Tumgik
#honestly i never went to beauty school and i do all of this in my bathroom lmao
norrizzandpia · 23 days
Text
So American (OB38)
Summary: To the song So American by Olivia Rodrigo. In which a Brit and an American fall so deeply in love with each other.
Warnings: suggestive scenes, language, so much fluff omg, reader is from America (specifically California), reader wants to be a writer and loves Jane Austen, reader loves London, idk if you can tell yet but this is HEAVILY indulgent, reader goes to University of San Francisco (that part is not self indulgent lol)
Note: I couldn’t help myself ive had this idea for too long, my debut Ollie Bearman fic! I hope you like it because i do 🤭
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Eighteen and baby-faced, Y/n thought her trip to London with her best friends would be fun and outrageous. She expected when they touched down in Heathrow that the trip would bring countless amounts of unique memories. It was part of their celebration of completion in their first year in college, a week-long trip to one of their favorite places to welcome the desperately needed summer.
None of them expected for Y/n to slam into a tall body when they were running to a musical before the doors closed and none of them expected that tall body to be that of another eighteen year old who found the short, American girl too cute to tear his eyes away from.
Ollie hadn’t been expecting much when he decided to take a day trip into London, wanting to spend the day wandering around one of his favorite cities. Though, when his eyes graced him the vision of y/h/c hair and a flushed girl frazzled in front of him, he knew it would be one to remember.
She was short, almost too short as his neck craned down to meet her eyes and the two murmured out apologies as he knelt down to pick up her bag that had dropped when they both rounded the same corner too fast.
Her ID slipped out, California’s name in bold letters right at the top and made Ollie laugh.
”American?” He smiled as Y/n’s friends glanced at each other from the side.
Y/n grinned, “Yep, American.”
Part of him knew getting into business with someone who lived on another continent couldn’t be smart, but he couldn’t bear to think of not seeing her again. Her beauty struck him and there were no thoughts in his mind when he asked for her number when she mumbled something about having to leave.
Y/n’s wide eyes turned around to meet his once more, “My number?”
Ollie nodded, his hand in his pocket and clutching his phone, “Your number.”
Her friends behind her giggled before shoving her toward the British boy who they had no idea was not your average or normal eighteen year old. Y/n took his phone lightly and pressed the correct digits. When she returned it, her name staring back at him, he blushed, “Y/n. That’s cute.”
Her cheeks warmed just like his as her friends began tugging on her hand and yelling about making the showtime, “What’s your name?!” She yelled as they dragged her away.
He waved with a beam, “Ollie!”
Ollie. That’s cute.
That summer, Y/n never went back to California. The moment she began talking with Ollie and he began taking her out on dates before she was supposed to leave, she knew there would be no way she could leave him. She canceled her flight back after Ollie had begged her to stay, and told her friends they needed to go back without her, that there was something more she needed to explore in London.
The girls had anticipated it, honestly. When they had seen the dazed grin on their friend’s face every time she came back from seeing the boy, they knew there was not enough willpower to hold her back from changing plans.
She would come back for the next school year, but it was clear if things went well, which they seemed they would be, she would stay for the summer.
And that she did.
Ollie forced her around all of England, showing her his favorite nooks and crannies of the country he grew up in. They would spend hours in his car as he drove her around, to the end of the country and back, just so she could experience his favorite view too. Their moments spent together forced the two to get to know each other wholly. Y/n found out about his racing career, gaped at him when he mentioned his Formula 1 race, and Ollie found out about her mundane life as a student at University of San Francisco. Honestly, he loved how regular she was. He craved her stories of college parties and nights spent up until three AM trying to turn in a paper. He loved her life stories. She loved his. They made for a good duo.
When the end of the two months drew near, tears were shed and words of distance were stressed. As they stood at the entrance to Heathrow, Ollie held Y/n in his arms and promised to find another time for her to come visit him, or one where he would come visit her. He was insistent and while they wouldn’t say it then, they were already in love.
That proved true a few months later, after calls and texts back and forth, when Y/n turned up at Heathrow once more. She was on Christmas break, one that granted her time to see her boyfriend, and while her family had been supportive of her skipping the holiday to go see someone that clearly made her so happy, she still felt a bit guilty to cancel. Though, that feeling diminished when she descended down the escalator and found Ollie holding a large sign with her name on it in pinks and greens, a large smile on his face as she yelped out and sprinted toward him.
“OLLIE!” Her bags dropped and she flew into his arms as he yelled her name back, the sign he had worked so hard on thrown to the floor the moment she got close.
He kissed her cheek and the two were looked upon adoringly by bystanders in the airport as he gently set her down on the ground, kissing her softly and whispering how much he had missed her.
When he led her out of the doors, all her belongings in his hands, they smiled brightly at each other as if to confirm how much they would make this month worth their while.
Drivin’ on the right-side road, he says I’m pretty wearin’ his clothes. And he's got hands that make hell seem cold. Feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem I wish I wrote. I wish I wrote.
Ollie clutched Y/n’s thigh as he drove to their favorite spot, one he had shown her during the summer. Her head lulled to the side, staring at him lightly and lovingly right when he glanced at her, his eyes roaming over her body.
Her eyebrows pulled together, “What?”
He smirked, “You look pretty wearing my clothes.” His fingers traced up her stomach to tug on his sweatshirt that adorned her upper body. The way it draped largely over her made his heart warm and how she had the hood pulled up over her messy hair made him want to pull the car over and kiss her silly.
She looked cozy. Cozy enough that his hand traveled under the material to rest around her waist. His warm hands made her feel more sleepy, the clock in the car reading a time too early, as she cuddled further into herself. Ollie noticed the yawn that drew from her and smiled to himself, his eyes averting back to the lonely road they were on.
“Can I put my feet on the dash?” She murmured, eyes closing and head tucking further into his sweatshirt.
Ollie patted her leg, “Sure, baby. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”
He turned the music down enough for her to find sleep again and when her phone pinged beside him, he glanced down randomly. His head had snapped back up before he could genuinely realize the notification he had seen. When it dawned on him what he might’ve seen, his eyes drifted down once more and tapped the screen to see it again.
A notification from In-n-Out stayed put on her screen and he stifled a laugh before whispering, “Oh, she’s so American.”
And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.
Ollie howled from laughter as Y/n giggled, her joke going over better than she expected. She knew it was funny, but she didn’t think the red in his face from not breathing was necessary. Still, she admired the way he admired her and went along with his hysterics. When his breathing regulated and his hunched over position came back to a seated one on the cold bench in Hyde Park, her stares were finally noticed by him.
”What?” He asked, arm wrapping around her shoulder as he shoved a piece of croissant in his mouth. He offered the last piece to Y/n and she took it, murmuring before putting it in her mouth, “Nothing. You just think I’m funny.”
Ollie’s eyebrows rose and he blew out a breath, “I think you’re hilarious.”
”I wonder how much you’ll laugh with me when you’re wasted.” Y/n’s head cocked to the side as she lost herself to thoughts.
Ollie giggled, “Probably an annoying amount when I’m pissed.”
Y/n’s jaw dropped in horror, “Not when you’re pissed! Don’t pee yourself!”
The couple turned to each other in confusion, Ollie fully taken aback, “Who said anything about peeing themselves?!”
Y/n jabbed a finger into his chest, “You did!”
Ollie pushed her softly, his hand on her waist drawing her back to him, “No, I didn’t!”
Her head fell into his chest in a fit of laughter, “Yes! I was talking about getting drunk and then you just brought up pissing yourself!”
In a moment of realization, Ollie found himself howling with laughter again. His hands clutched her frozen ones in the midst of winter before he got out, “It means the same thing! Wasted and pissed! Drunk!”
Her mouth fell open as she began to understand. Then, she pulled a face, “Why would you British people say pissed? That’s weird.”
Ollie gasped with a smile, “Hey! Don’t be rude.”
She crossed her arms, “You’re the one that insinuated peeing yourself.”
Ollie groaned and scrambled from the seat, running away from her with loud laughter, “Get away from me, American!”
She got up, rushing after him, with strangers giving them questionable looks as they began running through the bushes and trees of Hyde Park,
As she followed after him, his smile getting caught in her mind, she realized she had never felt this way about anyone. Sure, she had had guys in the past, but none of them compared to Ollie. The time they spent together, whether over the phone or in the actual presence of the other, always left her with a fuzzy feeling. A fuzzy feeling she always wanted to feel. The idea of forever was premature, but she was beginning to believe she was in love with the boy running away from her and jokingly berating her for being American. If she was in love, why not entertain the idea of marriage in her daydreams?
When she reached him, falling into his arms roughly with continued giggles, he leaned in and kissed her softly. The look in Ollie’s eyes when he pulled back made her think he might just be in love with her too.
Maybe they could entertain the idea of marriage in their daydreams together.
God, I’m so boring and I’m so rude. Can’t have a conversation if it’s not all about you; the way you dress and the books you read. I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he’s with me, when he’s with me.
Y/n brushed her teeth in the white of Ollie’s bathroom, his parents having generously let her stay in their home during her stay for Christmas. Her best friend, Charlotte, stared back at her from the phone. Their FaceTime had just started and Y/n hadn’t waited to say any greetings before jumping into rambling about Ollie.
”Charlotte, I’m so obsessed with him. I think it’s unhealthy.” She laughed, Charlotte laughing with her. Ollie eavesdropped on the other side of the door. “He’s so sweet and attentive. He remembers all the little things and even suggests things he thinks I’ll love. Which I always do. The other day, we were walking around Sussex and he saw this small book in a window and forced me into the shop. Turns out he had found a Jane Austen Pride and Prejudice First Edition. He told me he remembered how much I loved that movie and that storyline. He even referenced exact sentences that I had said in the midst of my rant about how much I love Jane Austen books. I looked at the price tag, holy shit, Char, it was so expensive. I made him leave the store immediately because the look on his face told me he needed no convincing in buying it for me. I thought I was in the clear, but apparently he’s friends with the owner of that store, so he went in early the morning after, while I was still asleep, and bought it for me. He surprised me with it along with breakfast in bed. I almost cried, Char. He’s even started reading it with me because he knows how much I love it.”
Charlotte’s eyes twinkled at the look on her friend’s face. Charlotte loved Ollie for the way he treated Y/n. “That is fucking insane. This man is in love with you, Y/n.”
Ollie’s heart exploded in his chest from the other side of the door. He had been caught.
Y/n’s whispering was loud enough for him to hear, “I think I’m in love with him too. I can’t get over his smile and his favorite pair of shoes that he most definitely needs to repurchase. I love his humor and how much he wants to make me happy. I love how he makes me feel so wanted and important. I love everything about him from his ratty Ferrari sweatshirt to the moles on his cheek.”
Ollie almost started giggling, jumping up and down like a schoolgirl, at her confession. He was ecstatic. This feeling was better than when he scored points in his first Formula 1 race. Yet, he didn’t want to let her know he knew yet. He wanted to plan something, something big that would show how serious he was about her.
The two friends hung up the phone after Y/n realized what time it was and rattled off to Charlotte about Ollie waiting for her in bed. Charlotte tried not to point out the suggestive nature of her statement, but she failed. “Use protection!” She yelped just as the phone hung up. Y/n stood in the threshold to Ollie’s bedroom, him staring back at her as the two took in Charlotte’s warning.
Ollie flopped down into the sheets, Y/n falling right into his arms. He kissed her neck and whispered, “She doesn’t need to worry. We will.”
They wouldn’t end up falling asleep until far into the night.
I apologize if it’s a little too much, just a little too soon, but if the conversation ever were to come up I don’t want to assume this stuff. But, ain’t it love? I think I’m in love.
Ollie couldn’t wait to tell her. Let her know that he felt the same way. And Y/n couldn’t wait to tell him about her most favorite idea, one she had come up in the wake of telling her best friend how much she loved her boyfriend. Neither of them knew the other had something so serious to discuss as they drove down the quiet street. Ollie had shoved her in the car, telling her he was taking her to a picnic under the stars. He threw his coat over her, taking his other for himself, and drove the few minutes before arriving at the open grass area near his house. He helped her out of the car, leading her to the trunk to get the box of food his mother had helped him make in preparation for this, and found a perfect spot with the clearest view of the sky.
The cold, winter air made them curl into each other, creating the perfect amount of warmth to stay. Y/n didn’t know how to breach her topic as they popped spoonfuls of soup into their mouths. Ollie beat her to it.
“Can I tell you something?” He whispered, finding her soft eyes.
She nodded, “Of course, baby.”
He sighed, putting his soup off to the side and trying to rid his body of unnecessary nerves. He knew she felt the same. Still, his hands shook slightly, not from the cold, “You have completely wrecked my life. You were so unexpected and not something I was ever anticipating, but I am so happy you fell into my life, Y/n. I will always look back on that moment at that random corner in London with so much love because…” He took a deep breath, “I love you and that was the start of you and me.”
Y/n’s face beamed and she set her soup down, throwing herself into Ollie. He fell backward, the two falling into a heap of limbs on the blanket below them. She kissed his face all over with sloppy, lovesick kisses, “Ollie! I love you too!”
He would never get over how her voice sounded whenever she said his name. Sure, she had said it in annoyed manners before when he had ticked her off, but, even then, he loved the way her accent sounded around the syllables. Never did he think he would be putting American accents first before British ones on his list of most beloved accents. Though, he was beginning to find that her smiling face was getting him to do a lot of crazy things lately. Like, buying a book worth thousands of dollars and reading it along with her. Chilling.
She tapped the back of his palms before tugging lightly on his fingers, “I have something to run past you.”
He nodded, pulling her between his legs and stroking her back. She let her legs wrap around his waist as they continued to sit on the blanket, “You know how much I want to be a writer? The reason why I’m studying English and everything?”
Ollie continued nodding, tilting his head as to tell her he had no clue where this was going.
She cleared it up quickly, however, when she nervously rambled, “What if I transferred to a UK university?”
Ollie’s heart almost flew from his chest, “Like, move here?”
She gave a small smile, “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always wanted to move here and study here. I love it here. But, now,” She kissed his lips, “I have more of a reason to. Would that be something you’d be okay with?”
He scoffed, “Would that be something I’d be okay with?! Fuck, yeah! Oh my God, Y/n, please move here. Holy shit, move here.” He begged with the cheekiest grin on his face.
She laughed, “Okay, okay. I still have to be accepted, but I have good chances with my grades and everything.”
Ollie shook her body lightly, “No, you’ll be accepted. If I start a manifestation journal specifically for this, would you judge me?”
Y/n cackled, “No, go right ahead. Tap into that spiritual force, Bearman.”
He kissed her hard, happy it seemed to work out for them. God, he wanted it to work out for them so bad.
And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.
ONE YEAR LATER
Y/n walked down the street to her dorm, a quizzical look etched into her face as she rounded the corner and ran into a hard body. Her eyes found his familiar ones from her position below him and his smile welcomed her home after a long day.
Ollie laughed, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”
She tucked herself under his arm as they began walking, “You just need to stop walking so fast.”
He laughed at her comment before leaning down and kissing her cheek, “How was your day?”
She groaned, “So long. English in a UK university is much more in depth than I was expecting. It puts American colleges to shame. Plus, for lunch, the waiter screwed up my order.”
Ollie frowned, “Oh, no. What’d they mess up?”
Y/n gave him a sad smile, “I asked for chips with my sandwich and they gave me French fries.”
There was silence before Ollie shook his head with a soft smile, “Baby, French fries are chips here.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, “What do you mean?”
He playfully rolled his eyes, “No one says French fries here. If you want that, it’s chips.”
She stood in front of him in a stance that suggested this was an outrage. He chuckled at her, “Then, what do I say if I want chips?!”
He pushed her hair away from her face lovingly, “Crisps, love.”
She huffed and turned away, walking down the sidewalk before he quickly caught up with her. She grumbled from under his arm, “You need to teach me these crazy discrepancies.”
Ollie nodded and kissed her hair, “It’s not my fault you’re so American, but sure, I will. We can start now.”
Apparently, that sufficed for her as she let out an agreeing noise, “Yeah, so where are we going for this date.”
He put his finger to his lips and shushed her, “No, it’s a surprise.”
Her mind loved the fact that he was so obsessed with planning their outings by himself. She loved how much he initiated everything. She had never felt so taken care of. She always envied the girls loved wholly by their boyfriends and now she had that for herself. There would be no day that would come that she took advantage of the boy she fell in love with two summers ago.
She shrugged, “You better be happy I trust you so much, I’d follow you into a dark cave without any questions.”
Ollie squeezed her, “I mean, I follow you anywhere you go, so if you’re not going into that cave, I’m not either.”
He pulled her down the stairs to the Tube as he slipped her backpack off her body and onto his. She kissed him in appreciation, “So, it’s settled. No dark caves.”
Ollie shook his head and led her to the place they needed to be. He held her hand tightly as they weaved through the crowds, his head flicking behind him to check on her frequently before just pushing her in front of him, his hands around her waist as he steered her.
When they got to their platform, he added his last thought to their conversation, “We need to get married first before wandering into dangerous caves.”
He said it so nonchalantly, it made her fall in love with him more. And when he met her eyes after he was met with silence, he found overwhelming joy within them.
He kissed her in the midst of the chaos underground, his hands cradling her face and hers loosely around his waist. They were a sight for sore eyes, but no one saw them in the midst of their special moment.
It was just for themselves and would be referred back to in the coming years as the moment where their forever really started.
Bloody hell, they were so in love.
1K notes · View notes
rinhaler · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
𝖗𝖆𝖛𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜
would you fuck your high school bully if you got set up on a blind date with him? if he was hot, probably, right?? ... right?
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ ex bully!rensuke kunigami x f!reader
Genre: porn with a plot Notes: a concept that has rotted my brain for weeks now. ty to @chososdoll for beta reading as per ♡ Warnings: 18+, alcohol consumption, pro player!kunigami, pleasure dom!kunigami, consent check, overstimulation ♡, multiple orgasms (duh!), pussy eating ♡, fingering, slight nipple play, dumbification, size difference, vaginal sex, dacryphilia ♡, enemies to lovers?, pool sex ♡, skinny dipping, morning sex ♡, wake up blowjob, shush kink?, praise, reader has pubes! (landing strip), calls your pussy 'she', bullying mention, pet names (baby, princess). Words: 15.1k
Tumblr media
“This seems a little…”
“What?”
“Sad.” you laugh, repositioning yourself on the couch beside your best friend as you watch your fourth horror film of the evening. She tuts, but not before gesturing that she needed a refill on her wine. So, you reach over to the side table and start taking off the lid for her. “I don’t know. It feels a bit desperate, no?”
“No!” Maisie objects.
She can’t remember the last time she heard you gush about a guy. And honestly, neither can you. It’s been forever since you went on a date. And it’s been even longer since you got laid. You shake the thought away as you pour the red liquid into her empty glass.
You’re happy alone, for now, you think. It’s not like you feel lonely. Admittedly, it isn’t the best feeling when you have to listen to all of your friends talk about their date nights or cosy nights in with their partners. It isn’t the end of the world, though. Maybe happy is a strong word to describe how you feel.
You’re content being alone.
“I’m not saying you have to marry the guy,” she continues, lifting the wine to her lips when you finish filling her glass. “Just meet him. He’s so sweet, and he’s gorgeous!”
“You fuck him then!” you laugh. She takes the opportunity to flaunt her engagement ring that she hasn’t even had for a week yet. You roll your eyes, but laugh, grabbing her hand so you can examine it again. It is beautiful. Are you a bad friend? Because the stab of jealousy you suddenly feel is almost painful. “I’ve never been on a blind date. I didn’t even realise they were still a thing, why won’t you just show me him?”
“I promise he’s extremely sexy. Trust me, if I wasn’t engaged I’d definitely take him for a ride.” she giggles, and you laugh back at that. She has similar taste to you, so you’re sure you’ll feel the same way when you see him. It’s intimidating though. You’re putting complete faith in her that she won’t fuck you over. And then, you realise, you’re thinking about it as if you’ve already accepted. Maybe it’s a sign. You should just take the plunge. “I don’t want to tell you too much and spoil the fun, but—”
“I’ll do it.”
“Y- really?!” she wiggles a little closer to you in excitement, her wine sloshing in her glass as she approaches. “I’m gonna text him now! Eeeeeeek!” she squeals, putting her wine down and picking up her phone. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her fingers move so fast as she texts the mystery man.
You want to pry for more information, but you know her too well. She’s stubborn. And the blind date aspect for her is too exciting. There’s no use trying to get her to spill. Though it doesn’t stop you from attempting to extract even a slither of information.
“How do you know him?”
“He’s a client.” she pays you no mind, perfectly manicured fingers tap away at her phone as she formulates a text message.
You’re surprised, for multiple reasons. You hadn’t expected her to answer that truthfully, let alone with no hesitation. It came so easy for her to say; which means one of two things. Either, it’s true, or, she had a well-crafted lie prepared in case you asked that very question. But if it’s true… that’s interesting.
She’s a social media manager. And while her clients aren’t necessarily A-Listers, they aren’t exactly nobody’s, either.
“Oh my God, is he a footballer?” you smile, widely. She peers up from her phone and you find it hard to read her expression. She’s always had a good poker face, but you’ve known her long enough to recognise her tells. And when she licks her lips, you have your answer. “AH! Is he rich? Oh I bet he’s gorgeous, fuck, is he shredded? Like—”
“The horny jumped out!” she laughs, and you playfully hit her arm before laughing along with her. She doesn’t say anything else about it. Now, she is fully committed to the blind element of the date. “I’ll drop you off, I’ll tell him what you’re wearing so he knows it’s you. He said he’s free Thursday night, does that work?”
“Sure.”
“Great! So 9PM on Thursday.”
“Um…” you hesitate. Fucking 9PM? You know you aren’t that old, you’re in your mid-twenties for crying out loud, but that seems very late. You’re usually tired by 10 o’clock. But you refuse to risk her chastising you for being boring. So, you suck it up with a beaming smile, “Perfect.” it almost hurts to say.
She claps, enthusiastically, before picking up her abandoned wine glass again. You’re both silent, fixated on the movie. But you spot Maisie out of the corner of your eye finish her drink in a hearty swig. You don’t comment, though, still trying your damnedest to focus on the movie. It’s too late, though, you’ve missed most of the plot since she started plotting and preparing your upcoming date. You don’t dare break the silence, though. She looks utterly engrossed.
However your own attempt at concentrating is thwarted when you hear her glass land a little too harshly onto her coaster. It doesn’t smash, thankfully, but you’re both staring at each other after that.
“I haven’t got a fucking clue what’s happening in this.” she admits, and you laugh, agreeing. “Let’s go plan your outfit for Thursday!” she suggests, throwing the blanket you’re sharing off her body before walking hastily to your bedroom.
This is so her.
She’s more excited for this date than you are.
Tumblr media
“Deep breaths, you look gorgeous!” she assures you, holding your hand as you squeeze it again and again to calm your nerves. “For what it’s worth, by the way, he’s my sweetest client. He’s really respectful and kind, a lot of them can be rude but he’s never been like that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! He’s really understanding.” she nods, eagerly. “Do you want me to come in and wait with you?”
“No, um… c-can you wait and let me know when he’s coming in? Or, just be here in case I get stood up.”
“Don’t even think that, he’s excited! He’ll be here. I’ll drop him so fast if he does, but I know he won’t.” she assures you.
You take another deep breath before smiling at her. She reaches over to give you a hug. It’s a tight, reassuring squeeze that makes you feel better for a fleeting moment. She waves like a child when you step out of the car, and she wolf whistles before you close the door.
If nothing else, at least you look good. You both agreed that there’s nothing like a little black dress, and your high heels accentuate your legs. They clack as you stomp across the pavement. And when you realise your steps are in time with your heartbeat you think it wise to slow down.
As the entrance to the restaurant comes into view, you look down the street and give your friend one final wave. Though, really, it’s meaningless. You know as soon as you sit down you’ll pull your phone out and start texting her in a panic. The maître d’ welcomes you with a beaming smile, checking the reservation list for the booking strategically made under Maisie’s name.
Still so committed to the blindness of the date.
It’s sort of exciting to think he doesn’t know anything about you, either. Though it’s scaring you slightly that he could take one look at you and turn around. And you won’t know until it’s too late. You won’t know until you’re being pestered to order after telling the wait staff that your date hasn’t arrived yet several times.
They’ll have to be polite despite how humiliating it is to tell you that other patrons need to be seated and seen to and you’re wasting their time. You’ll have to swallow your pride and leave. You can’t possibly eat alone after shouldering such a burning humiliation.
Oh God.
You text Maisie. And your fingers tremble as you type out the message. Telling her that you cannot go through with this and that you’re about to leave. A barrage of texts come through as she tries to give you a pep talk. But your anxiety flares and your leg begins to bounce as you try and shake the nervous energy from it.
Part of you thinks it’s best to stay sober, but your body is screaming differently. One drink won’t hurt, you decide, ordering two glasses of wine in case your date ever turns up.
And then you remember who he is. Or who he might be. He’s a client of your best friend, the social media manager. He must have some level of fame to need that representation. You’re pretty sold on the idea that he is likely a footballer. And through this thought process you manage to relax, if only a little. If he’s famous, he could be busy.
You decide to offer him some grace.
Though you should have given him the time to be really late before you got so worked up. You’ve only been seated for three minutes, after all. It’s not like he’s stood you up for an hour. You decide you’ll give him fifteen minutes before you leave. That’s a suitable amount of time to be able to leave and not look really foolish.
Every person that enters makes your heart race. Is it him? Only to realise it’s a couple or a double date or a family party in tow. You check the time on your phone, nine minutes have passed. Your cheeks fill with air as you puff it out slowly through pursed lips.
YOU: he’s not coming. MAISIE MOO 🐮: dw he just called me! he was stuck in traffic!!! YOU: rly? MAISIE MOO 🐮: yah! should be there any minute, have fun 😉
Your heart rate intensifies again as you see a man walk through the entrance and close an umbrella as he greets the maître d’. It prompts you to look outside, the windows are practically black save for a few lights on in the buildings across the road. But your eyes focus on the fat raindrops and their white outlines as they roll down the glass. How didn’t you notice the sudden torrential downpour?
Even from your seat at such a distance from the entrance you can see how large and well defined his hand is as he shakes raindrops from his orange hair. The colour makes you shiver, but you bat it away. It’s him, it has to be him. He’s alone, after all. And you see the maître d’ smile in your direction.
Hell, he might be happier that he showed up than you are.
You hear him laugh, and it’s deep, as he’s guided into the restaurant. And you can’t help but smile as you see him. He’s handsome, very handsome, and he has such a positive energy beaming from him. His face seems warm despite being chilled by the wetness of the rain. There’s pink in his cheeks and at the tip of his nose as he continues to smile kindly.
And, really, you’re speechless.
He smiles so sweetly, you almost didn’t recognise him, as he takes his seat opposite to you. And he thanks you for the wine. His eyes betray him as he looks at you with optimism. You know him, you’ve always known him. Those amber eyes that you’ve never seen in another man again since him. They seem so kind, now.
But you know better.
While he knows nothing.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” he grins, looking briefly over the menu. “I got stuck in traffic and then I had a hard time in the car park.” he laughs, his thumb indicating he’s referring to the multi-story car park down the road. The one notorious for its broken machines and confusing layout.
“Well, you’re here now.” you smile, weakly. Tipping the remaining contents of your glass until it flows between your lips. It goes down smooth and you almost feel it swim directly to your braincells, feeling slightly faint until your senses return to you again. You blink it away, and your eyes squint at him suspiciously. “Excuse me, I have to pee.” you tell him.
“Oh, sure.” he smiles. “Should I order for you if the waiter comes by? What would you like?”
“Are you paying or are we splitting the bill?” you wonder, taking his menu from his hand before he can even register that it’s gone. Your eyes scan the menu quickly, not looking for anything in particular.
“I’m old fashioned, so—”
“Great, then I want this.” you tell him, pointing to the most expensive meal on the menu as you place it back into his grip. He chuckles, gently, before looking up at you. Your smile filled with anger and malice as you turn on your heel to find the bathroom. “Oh, and an expensive meal should be paired with an expensive drink, right?” you tell him, leaving before he can respond.
He watches as you approach a waiter, asking where you can find the bathroom. They point you in the right direction. But before you go, you point towards the table your date is still seated at, telling them you’re ready to order. You ascend the staircase to the second floor and slip away into the bathroom and out of your dates line of sight.
Your heart pounds furiously.
Little hands shake as you search for your phone in your purse. Christ, you could use a cigarette right now. You feel light-headed as you take deeper and deeper breaths as you pull up your texts, your fingers tremble as you lean against the sinks.
YOU: do you hate me? be honest MAISIE MOO 🐮: ???? what’s wrong? Do u think he’s ugly? YOU: no he isn’t ugly. ANNOYINGLY. UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! MAISIE MOO 🐮: … MAISIE MOO 🐮: what? YOU: do u remember me telling u about a school bully 😊 MAISIE MOO 🐮: stop it YOU: YOU SET ME UP ON A DATE WITH MY BULLY!! WHAT DO I DO?? MAISIE MOO 🐮: NOOOOOOOOOO MAISIE MOO 🐮: OMG OMG OMG IM SORRY MAISIE MOO 🐮: FUCK YOU: I told him to order me the most expensive stuff on the menu bc he’s paying.. so I might just eat and dip MAISIE MOO 🐮: stopppppp omg lmk when ur done I will pick u up im so sorry ily
You sigh, putting your phone back in your purse. Is that really the right thing to do? Maybe not right, it’s morally wrong, of course. But is it the best decision to make? Do you really want to sit and eat a meal you probably won’t enjoy with your former bully watching your every move?
“Fuck.” you whisper to yourself. You decide to pee while you’re here, and you wash your hands for longer than you intended. It’s distracting you from your worries as you stare at yourself in the mirror and feel the comfort of the warm water encasing your hands as you clean them. You shake them when your done, little drops of water landing back in the sink before you go to the hand dryer. Maybe you’re stalling. You’re definitely stalling as you realise you’re drying your hands for far too long.
With one final look into the mirror, you take a deep breath and decide to return to your date. He smiles as he sees you descend the stairs again. And instinctively, you smile back. It’s a habit you’ve developed, not necessarily a bad one. But in this instance, it feels like a betrayal to yourself. You tell yourself to remain straight faced as you sit down, pulling your chair closer to the table.
“I’m Rensuke, by the way. I realise I didn’t introduce myself.” he grins, beaming white teeth almost blinding you as he awkwardly holds his hand out for you to shake. “Sorry, been a while since I had a date.” he laughs as he puts his hand down.
“I know who you are.” you laugh in return, though it’s not because of what he said. You just can’t help but find yourself amused over the fact he doesn’t recognise you. He laughs, too, looking a little uncomfortable all the while. He scratches his head as he nods, coming to his own conclusion.
“Oh, right. You’re a football fan, then? Sorry, you didn’t strike me as the type.” he continues, assuming you’re familiar with him through his fame. You hold your eyes shut for a beat too long, an annoyed smirk creeping its way onto your face as you try to bite your tongue.
“Sure, let’s go with that.” you comment, taking a swig from your newly filled wine glass. He cocks his head in confusion, but drinks with you. “So, why are you here? In London, I mean. I assumed you’d be… not here.” you ask, unable to control your tongue. There’s venom in your words, but not enough to kill.
“Um, I—” he clears his throat, coughing into his balled-up fist. His honeyed eyes find yours again, an incredulous look appears on his face as he formulates his thoughts in his mind. “I feel like I’m being set up.” he chuckles, though you can sense the worry behind his voice.
You take another sip from your wine glass. A sip turns to a glug as you empty the red liquid from the crystalline glass. You refill it yourself; sensing things are about to go south very quickly.
“This wasn’t really a blind date, right? Maisie told you who I am and you wanted to meet me. Am I right?” he wonders. And at that, you do scoff. And now you’ve lost all interest in holding your tongue.
“Oh my God. You’re so full of yourself, you haven’t changed at all.” you tell him, crossing one leg over the other as you rummage through your purse in search of a cigarette that will never appear. “I had no idea I was being set up with you. If I knew that, I wouldn’t have agreed.” you tell him without remorse. Defeated, you throw your purse down to the ground by your feet.
There’s a sense of shame flaring within you that you couldn’t keep it together until the end of your date. Of all the people roaming planet earth right now, why did he have to be your blind date? You stare at him as you observe his confused expression, he’s utterly bewildered by your words.
“I’m… we’ve met before, huh? I’m sorry, I’m having trouble remembering. I— are you a fan? Or… were you?” he asks, trying to decipher your identity. You scoff, again, preparing to stand to your feet. He reaches across the table and grabs your wrist. You look down at his large, veiny hand and then into his eyes. Your own vibrating with a slight twinge of fear. You feel like that teenage girl all over again.
“Let. Go.” you warn him, voice quiet through your gritted teeth. He relinquishes his hold of you instantly, apologising profusely. He’s just confused about what he could have done for you to hold such disdain for him. But your warning replays in his mind like a record on repeat. It’s like his fractured memories are forming again, becoming whole as he hears your voice again and again.
Let go.
You sounded so much weaker back then. You’re more defiant, now.
“Are you Ryusei Shidou’s little cousin?” he asks, eyes widening and brows raising in excitement. You sigh, sitting properly in your chair with correct posture as your eyes look angrily at him.
“No, I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re not really cousins your families are just close. I remember.” he smiles. His eyes almost dazzle as he looks at you, all recollection of his past hits him like lightning as he repeats your name again and again like a mantra. “Is that really you?”
“It’s really me.” you repeat, sarcastically. “Cancel the food order, you can still pay for the wine.” you tell him as you pick up your purse and prepare to leave.
“What? Why? We should catch up!” he tells you, an expectant look on his face as he hopes to convince you.
“I don’t want to catch up with you?” you tell him.
“But… why not? It’s been so long since we saw each other.”
You signal the maître d’ when you finally catch his attention. Rensuke looks disappointed as you continue to ignore him. Instead, you alert the man that you’ll be leaving early and to cancel your orders. But you make sure to tell him that Rensuke will happily cover the bill. And he does, hastily pulling out a wad of cash from his wallet as you depart the restaurant. He hurries after you, he’s in slight disbelief when he realises how fast you are. You’re almost halfway down the road when he finally exits the restaurant.
“Slow down!” he calls out to you, running right up behind you until he’s walking at your pace. He opens his umbrella and holds it above your head as you carry on walking. “You’re gonna get sick if you keep this up.”
“Leave me alone.”
“At least take my umbrella.” he requests, “I’ll go to my car and leave right now if that’s what you really want. But at least take it while you wait for a ride home.”
You accept, not too proud to take something that might offer you a small comfort in the absolutely obscene downpour plaguing the city. How quickly you’ve transformed from a vixen to a drowned rat. He must be loving this.
“I really would like to catch up with you, y’know…” he smiles.
You look up at him as the rain soaks his gorgeous gingery locks dampening and sticking to his forehead. Maybe he has changed. It’s been years after all. He’s grown up, it’s plain to see from his chiselled jawline alone. And he was always big back then. One of the tallest guys in your class, and so big and beefy to boot from playing so much football and training in the gym.
He terrified you.
And now, he’s bigger. An inch or two taller and completely filled out into an even more muscular physique.
“I can take you home, too. You don’t need to talk to me if you don’t want to… but, it’s freezing. You’ll be waiting ages for a taxi or for Maisie to come get you.” he speaks softly. And unfortunately, he’s right. You know all too well how tough it is to get taxis around this time, but it would be worse if it was the weekend so at least you’re thankful for it being a Thursday. You want to decline. You’re so ready to decline.
But for some reason—
“Okay.” you nod. You walk ahead, though, leaving him behind as you walk to the parking complex you’re pretty confident that he used. He laughs, hurrying after you again and allowing you to lead the way. It seems you know the area way better than him.
He guides you to the elevator and to the top floor of the complex. You aren’t sure what you expected when you step out. It’s not like you’re familiar with cars. But you were expecting some kind of expensive sports model. A Ferrari or something. Instead, you’re greeted to a black Range Rover.
It’s definitely outside of your pay grade, but you can’t help but feel a little disappointed.
“I thought you’d have a nicer car, Rensuke.” you decide to goad him, thinking it’s the least he deserves at this point.
“This is my incognito car.” he smirks, looking over his shoulder at you as he unlocks it. Of course he has an incognito car. You huff a little as he helps you up and into it, closing the door behind you. He circles around the back and you see him looking around in the boot before he comes to the driver's side and sits behind the wheel. He gives you a towel, presumably used for his training days, and tells you to dry off. “My nicer cars are at home, sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh, wait…” you snicker as a thought comes to you. “Were you gonna try and pretend you’re a nobody if I didn’t recognise you?”
His face fills with a pink hue as he feels completely caught out. And you can’t help but burst into hysterics. It’s tough for him, meeting girls who will actually like him for him and not his bank account. When Maisie suggested a blind date, he thought it was as good a chance as any to try and form a natural connection.
“Anyway, I’ll take you home now.” he tells you, trying to change the subject. “Sorry the date didn’t go to plan.”
You huff, again, as you try to dry your skin with the towel. Eventually you give up and use it as a horribly soggy blanket. “I can’t believe you even wanted to go on a blind date. Girls used to throw themselves at you in school. I told Maisie a blind date seemed really desperate.”
“Did we go to the same school? I was a virgin ‘til we left.” he informs you. You look at him, surprised, and he nods to clarify. “I was focused on football and shit, didn’t have time for girls.”
“Well, you had time to bully one girl.” you remind him, regretting saying it instantly. You thought confronting him would feel better than this, cooler. Like you can finally get closure and make him feel almost a fraction as bad as he made you feel back then. But instead, really, it just feels… cringe.
He offers a weak smile at you. The tension could be cut with a knife as he pulls out of his parking space and drives down each floor. He wants to say something, and really, so do you. Maybe you should just let the hatred go. It was a really long time ago, after all.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t a good guy back then, but I like to think I’ve changed a lot.” he speaks, eyes focusing on the road as the street lights and car beams blind him in the rain. “Your cousin bullied me, y’know. Dunno if he ever told you, but I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair though, so I’m really sorry.”
“He is not—”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it, princess.” he smirks, “I wouldn’t want to claim a relation to that blonde freak either.”
The insult towards Ryusei makes you laugh. You’re still close with him to this day, and ‘blonde freak’ is the perfect descriptor. But you don’t like to think of him as being capable of bullying. You had a feeling that was why you were subject to Rensuke’s torment each day, but you didn’t want to discover the truth. He always made it a point to vilify you for being related to Ryusei. Though you adamantly denied it each time.
“So, you were a prick to me for being related to someone I wasn’t even related to?” you respond, seriously. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Though you’re unsure any answer to his bullying would have made you feel better. It hurts to know you suffered so much, ultimately, for nothing. “Wish I told him you were picking on me, he would have fucking killed you.”
“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” he laughs a little. It’s soft, but not weak. It’s almost like acceptance. As though he deserves anything and everything you’ll throw at him. “We’re good now, though, if we’re in the same place we’ll meet up for drinks. He’s a fucking good player, too. Always admired him. He kept me in my place for a long, long time.”
You stare at him as he speaks. How have you never noticed how soft his features are? He’s so relaxed, peaceful. He looks at you briefly when he notices you staring, but just as quickly looks at the road again as his cheeks fill with heat, reddened with embarrassment.
“I was immature…” you start, looking down at your shivering, wet thighs as you decide to accept your own faults, too. “It’s been a long time since then. And we were young, it’s obvious that you’ve changed. I didn’t give you a chance and I was childish.”
“No, no—”
“I’m serious. Ordering the most expensive stuff and going off in a strop, that was really immature so... I’m sorry.” you tell him, and he smiles at that. He can’t help but think you’re a great girl. He looks over at you again, smiling so widely his eyes close.
“You never gave me your address, y’know.” he reminds you, laughing when the realisation hits you that you’d let him drive off with no real destination in mind. “Is it too late for that catch up?” he wonders, looking at you with hopeful eyes. The orange and brown colour tainted with sparkles of red as the stop light reflects from them.
And you’re powerless.
You find yourself agreeing before your brain can even keep up with the way you’re shaking your head. No, it isn’t too late. And his smile is almost as blinding as the headlights of each car in the road illuminating the falling raindrops and deep puddles forming in the street.
“I know where we can go…” he thinks to himself
Tumblr media
Bowling.
You never thought you’d be coming somewhere like this. Truthfully, you feel like a kid again. You remember skimming some money from your daily lunch allowance given by your parents to save up enough to go to the arcade every weekend with your friends. Saving the extra coins to use the DDR machine.
Let’s just say you mastered Captain Jack on expert difficulty.
“Another strike? You’re too good, puttin’ me to shame.” Kunigami laughs before picking up a ball and preparing for his turn. “You better not tell anyone you thrashed me; my reputation will be in tatters.” he warns you, jokingly.
You watch him as he takes a swing and hits all but two pins, leaving an awkward split between them. You hear him mutter under his breath but can’t decipher whatever it is he was talking about.
For some reason, you feel like he’s going easy on you. It’s not like he was a stranger to the arcade either back in the day. You always scarpered whenever he showed up with his friends, deciding it was the perfect time to grab a bite to eat and hope by the time you were done they’d be gone.
“I wouldn’t have invited you here if I knew you were gonna show me up like this.” he smiles, sitting next to you after completing his turn. “I didn’t know you liked bowling, thought you just liked using the dance machines.”
“You remember?”
“Yeah, uh,” he chuckles and scratches the back of his neck as he recalls the memories from way back then. “Me ‘n Raichi, remember Raichi? Anyway, girls on the dance mats… well, we were teenagers, so—”
“Oh my God you’re so embarrassing.” you interrupt him to put a stop to his stuttering.
“Look, it was a sexual awakening that’s all I’m saying.” he laughs. “And you were the best one, never missed a step. I remember we used to watch you for ages before we came in to scare you away.”
“Disgusting. Pair of perverts!” you lightly smack his arm as you continue to tease him. “I was good, though. Wonder if I could still pull it off…” you look at the machines in the distance as you contemplate restoring your former glory, you feel a newfound sense of confidence as you think about Rensuke finding you attractive back then.
You decide to go for it.
He follows you as you approach the machine, standing on the second player arrows right next to you.
“Always wanted to try!” he shrugs as you look at him suspiciously. “You can teach me.”
“No, I can’t.” you laugh, slotting two-pound coins into the machine so you can both play. “It’s just memory and hoping your feet will respond in time. Good luck, though.”
“Yeah, sounds like you have real faith in me.” he rolls his eyes, throwing his coat over the red metal bar behind him and rolling up his sleeves. You quickly kick off your high heels as you scroll through the songs. You hover over Captain Jack, and his face lights up as memories of you back then flow through his mind. “You always did this one. There was a different one I remember liking, though…” he tells you.
He starts to scroll through the songs, listening to them carefully as he searches for the one he remembers. Your eyes widen in horror as he settles on one, and he looks at you with pride.
“This one!” he exclaims, loudly.
“No, no way. I could never get the hang of it and I’m even more out of practice now. Afronova is too hard it won’t even be fun!” you warn him, but he wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly. “Let’s do it la—” he interrupts you by pressing the select button.
“It can’t be that hard.”
“You put it on the hardest difficult, idiot. We’re fucked!” you laugh, but get into position. You’re both definitely going to fuck it up, but at the very least you’ll get a good laugh out of seeing him eat his words.
All colour drains from his face as he sees all of the arrows immediately come into view on the screen. He barely knows where to look let alone where to plant his feet. He looks at your side of the screen, though, seeing you miss a fair few moves yourself but you manage to keep up the pace enough to earn some words of praise from the machine.
If you’d know you were going to be doing this, you definitely would have worn a bra. You hold your arms across your chest as you continue to jump and follow along with the arrows as best you can. Kunigami, however, decided to give up and watch you instead. He puts his feet down a few times on ones he think he might actually be able to get.
You’re left panting by the time the song comes to an end and your final foot stomp leaves you breathless. Rensuke claps, proudly.
“Fucking hell.” you gasp for air, leaning over the red bar behind you. You think you might actually throw up. “You dick, you barely did anything either.”
“I was captivated by the master at work, you were amazing!” he praises you, and you can’t help but giggle. “I think we should do an easy one next.”
“Agreed…” you respond, flipping through the songs until you land on 5678 by Steps.
You both laugh and joke as you easily follow along with the routine on baby mode. And it’s easy to keep up a conversation with him like this. Discussing more memories of spotting each other in the arcade and what you got up to on weekends.
It makes you sad, in a way. Knowing how sweet he is now and what he was capable of back then. You could have been friends, great friends. Maybe even best friends. Though you’re sure Raichi wouldn’t have liked that.
He allows you to pick your favourite song for the final round. And, naturally, he can’t keep up with you. But this time he actually does his best. But for you, it’s like muscle memory. You don’t miss a single step through the whole routine and you don’t even feel out of breath when it’s over. Kunigami however is sweating and panting again, his already wet hair sticking onto his forehead again as the sweat clings to it.
“It’s getting late.” you tell him, “Should we get some gross bowling alley food and call it a night?” you wonder, moving to pick up your discarded high heels so that you can decide what to do.
He rushes by you and hops off of the step, snatching your shoes up before you can. You watch him, nervously, as he gets down on one knee while holding your black pumps. You’re too speechless to object when he helps you slip your feet back into them, so delicately. And he smiles up at you from his lowly position as you gain another six inches of height. He holds his hand out to you, helping you down the step after you take it.
You exhale, deeply, after feeling how unbelievably soft his hands are.
“I think I’ll get a hot dog.” he thinks, not letting go of your hand and he leads you up the small flight of stairs and into the eating area.
“Oh, the burgers were good last time I came here.”
“Ohhhh fuck you’re right, I’m getting one too.” he laughs, ushering you into a secluded spot to sit down. “What do you want to drink? I’ll run up and order everything now.” he smiles.
You quickly look through the drinks menu and tell him you want a strawberry and lime Kopparberg. He nods approvingly at your choice. You watch him walk up to the bar to order, unable to take your eyes off him. He’s chatty with the bartender, and you wonder what else they’re talking about. You see him grab a pad of paper and a pen from behind the bar, handing them over to Rensuke. And he smiles, happily, signing it for him. You see the man thanking him over and over before Rensuke walks back over to you.
“You only just got recognised?” you tease him.
“It’s rarer than you’d think, y’know.” he laughs, “he said his kid is a fan. No big deal.” he shrugs, sliding your drink over to you.
He moves on from the subject of his fame and status in favour of complimenting you again. Telling you how talented you are and how fun it’s been hanging out with you again. You end up telling him about your job. It’s nothing fancy but pays the bills. You tell him about how you pretty much fell into the job of doing admin work for a law firm and now you’re training to be a solicitor.
His face lights up as you tell him. Like he’s proud. Or maybe it’s a twinge of relief that he didn’t fuck you up mentally enough to ruin your life. Either way, his smile is contagious. It only grows wider when your two plates of food are put down in front of you. And you hate that you’re trying to eat politely. There is absolutely no way to eat a dirty burger in a ladylike manner. He laughs at you when a dollop of ketchup drops on your chest and tries to slither down your cleavage. But, ever the gentleman, he cleans it up quickly with a napkin.
“Sorry,” he hesitates after realising how intimate it is. He hands it to you and you finish clearing your chest. “Good call on the burgers, though, they’re so good.”
You smile as you chew your food, still doing all you can to appear polite and demure. But he doesn’t mind, or care. Canines tear his burger apart with ease, and he can’t seem to stop himself from smiling each time he looks at you.
“So,” you start, putting down the final bite of your burger in favour of taking a swig of your drink. “You perving over me, did that affect the bullying?” you wonder, laughing lightly as he almost chokes on his food.
“I wasn’t perving, it was, I— ugh. I always thought you were cute. But I wasn’t about to tell you that.”
“You thought I was cute?”
“Oh, like you didn’t have a big fat crush on me? I heard the rumours.” Kunigami laughs, drinking his beer as he leans back into his seat.
“No, no, rumours and hearsay. I told one girl I thought you were hot on our first day and it turned into a game of broken telephone and spread like wildfire. I hated you!”
“Sure, sweetheart.” he winks before taking another drink. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”
You shake your head, opting to finish your burger instead of disputing it further. He does the same, leaning back and sighing with relief before taking another drink. He slaps his stomach, as if he’s gained a beer bellying rather than possessing the rock-hard abs that you know reside there.
“This was fun. Really fun.” he tells you, crossing his arms over his chest as he continues to get comfortable in the booth seat. You nod, agreeing. “What are we calling… this?” he wonders.
“What do you mean?”
“Was it just a ‘catch up’ or could it still have been a date?” he asks, smiling when your eyes widen and your face flushes with heat so much that you feel the need to fan yourself. You tell him that you’re just hot from eating, but another cocky eye roll tells you that he’s not buying that. “I’m hoping you’ll say it was a date, if you were wondering.” he speaks, low and gravelly as he leans across the table to tell you.
“Well, it was technically a date. Just not the location we’d planned.”
“I enjoyed this a lot more.” he tells you, looking around at all of the arcade machines and the people bowling in the distance. “I go to snooty restaurants a lot, I don’t get a chance to relax like this as much. So, thank you.”
“R-Right, no problem.” you smile, unsure of what to say. “I guess we should get going, then.” you finish, gathering yourself and clutching onto your purse as you prepare to shuffle out of the booth. He looks a little deflated, then, but he follows your lead.
He puts his arm around you as he guides you to his car, helping you inside again. He even gives you his jacket to wear when he notices you shivering. Though you opt to wear it over yourself like a blanket.
You look out of the window as he climbs inside and shuts the door. The rain stopped while you were bowling, but it’s still so dark out. It’s damp and dreary, it’s just miserable, really. But the cold chill of staring out into the black abyss leaves you when Kunigami turns on the radio. Some generic pop music you’ve never heard in your life, and it makes you feel old and out of touch. But the face he pulls says the same story, and he begins flicking through other stations until he hears something he recognises.
“S-So… do you live nearby?” you ask him, curiously.
“I do! Just got a new place a few weeks ago, I’m still unpacking.” he smiles as he envisions all of the moving boxes still piled up in each room. “So where am I taking you?”
“If you go to Maisie’s office I can direct you from there.” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt into place as he pulls up directions on his phone to the office. You look out of the front window when you hear raindrops begin to pitter patter again. “Um… Rensuke…” you start, hesitating to speak as you wonder what the fuck you’re even thinking of doing right now.
“What’s up?” he asks, eyes darting to you before he starts the car. The only thing that can be heard is the light drops of rain. It makes your skin jitter, you feel a chill as you look at Kunigami, the rain rolling down the windows in your peripheral vision and you feel thankful to be here and not out there.
You feel desperate. And you’re sure you’re going to humiliate yourself, but you don’t want the night to end. In a million years, you never would have pictured yourself enjoying the company of Rensuke Kunigami. He’s a busy man, you’re sure. He fit you into his busy schedule and you’re sure he has better things to do than spend all of his free time on a date. A date that is supposed to be drawing to a close.
But you don’t say that.
In fact, you barely say anything.
He can’t help but smile, though, knowing exactly where your next destination will be.
“I don’t want tonight to end, either.” he confesses. You feel your body become lighter as you realise he feels the same way. He starts the car promptly, and you note how sure he is about where he’s taking you. “Can I show you my new place?” he asks.
He’s so cocksure as he says it. His eyes don’t meet yours and you sense it’s because he knows you’ll say yes. And who are you to disappoint? You’re curious, anyway. You wonder if it will be as impressive as you’re envisioning in your mind. Footballers are rich, aren’t they? But maybe he isn’t a high earning player. Either way, you’re curious to see the home that your former bully has worked so hard for.
Tumblr media
You lose track of time as you pull up to his house. Or mansion, you should say. He’s allowed through the security gate currently being manned by a member of staff, and he drives up and towards a three door garage. You can’t believe you’re visiting somewhere like this, it feels like a dream.
It’s something Maisie is accustomed to, Rensuke even tells you how confidently she strutted around and didn’t even bat an eyelid when she came over to discuss his contract. But you’re left speechless as more comes into view.
He doesn’t bother parking in the garage, pulling up directly to the stairs leading up to the front door. He’s out first, doing a little jog around your side to open the door and help you out.
“I didn’t bring you here to brag, by the way.” he insists.
“And here I was thinking you were trying to woo me into bed.” you laugh, and laugh harder the redder his face becomes. He holds his hands up defensively, waving them dismissively as he tries to assure you that was not his intention.
“I’ll take you home right after if you want! I swear I wasn’t—”
“Relax! I was teasing you.” you tell him, bumping into him as you enter the mansion. He offers you a drink, which you accept, happily. He pours you a glass of wine but gets himself some water directly from the tap. “You aren’t drinking?” you question, feeling a little uncomfortable that you’re drinking alone.
“I won’t be able to take you home if I drink more than I already have.” he chuckles, handing your wine to you.
He drinks his water, and you take a sip of your wine. His smile, that beautiful smile, it’s so disarming. You’re tottering on your heels to walk by his side as he encourages you to follow him. You feel as though time is flying when he takes you from room to room. There are still moving boxes in each room but it doesn’t detract from the lavishness of it all.
You laugh when he tells you there’s a tennis court out back.
“What are you going to do with a tennis court?” you giggle.
“Play tennis, I suppose.” he laughs back.
You don’t mind even a little when you feel his cold hand come into contact with the even colder skin between your shoulder blades. You mind even less when his hand snakes down your spine and settles in the small of your back as he guides you to the next room.
“Oh wow…” you express, hit by the warmth of the room. Your heels clack against the tiles with each step you take. You leave his side as you get closer and closer to your target. And you scream, smacking Kunigami’s arm as he rushes behind you and presses his fingers into your sides. “An indoor pool… you’ve really fucking made it.” you tell him, and he shrugs.
“There’s one outside as well.” he informs you.
“Now that was a brag.” you laugh.
“Shit, was it?”
“Absolutely.
You crouch down to the balls of your feet, letting your fingers swim through the pristine pool water. You aren’t quite sure how to describe the colour of it, but it’s mesmerising, as if sage and turquoise paint mixed specifically to fill this pool.
He takes your hand and encourages you to stand upright again. And he doesn’t let go as he leads you out of the room. The thought of going back to your poky apartment after being in here is harrowing.
It almost feels like he’s doing charity work.
There’s a rumble outside that causes you both to stop in your tracks. And once you enter the living room again, you see the heavy rain pouring down violently on the windows again. It’s louder than before. The raindrops are weightier.
He squeezes your hand as you yelp after seeing a bolt of lightning pierce through the sky. You look up at him, eyes full of grace as those honeyed eyes warm your soul for the umpteenth time tonight.
“There’s a weather warning from The Met Office…” he tells you as he checks the time on his phone. He lets go of your hand to look at you again, unsure of what to say. “I can take you home… before it gets any worse…” he whispers. His voice betrays him, though. You can hear the voice of a liar interspersed with his desperation to be a good guy.
He doesn’t want you to leave.
You don’t want to leave, either.
“It’s… dangerous, though…” you start, looking out of the window again at the gloomy weather.
“In that case…” he bends down, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “You should stay.”
You mewl, softly, as he not-quite kisses against your ear and the smooth skin behind it. And your head tilts, for him, so that he can press one final kiss against your neck. You don’t want it to stop, but he withdraws himself with a cheeky smirk while your eyes are heavy with lust.
It’s been so long.
Too long.
You might have lived your whole life up to now without being kissed like that.
He curls his finger, instructing you to follow him back upstairs. You put down your wine glass and hurry after him. He doesn’t wait, this time, leading ahead as he brings you to one of the bedrooms.
“Wait here.” he commands, and you do.
You walk up to the standing mirror against the wall and check yourself out. Trying to make sure you makeup hasn’t smudged or there isn’t food in your teeth. Your hair is still soaked, but that can’t be helped. When he walks back into the room you quickly back away from the mirror as if you’d been caught doing something wrong.
“The bathroom is just opposite to here.” he reminds you, pointing.
You look down at the pile of items he brought in from another room. There’s an unopened three-pack of toothbrushes and a brand-new tube of toothpaste. You can’t help but smile when you pick up the rolled-up ball of white, fluffy bed socks.
And you hate to admit how your knees go weak when you realise he’s gifted you with his football jersey to sleep in for the night. There are shorts, too, but you doubt you’ll need them. You want to keep your dress on for as long as possible. You’ll just sleep in the jersey and your panties when you’re ready.
“Thank you.” you smile at him. You notice the tips of his ears and his nose turn a blush pink as he sees you holding up his jersey and modelling it against your body.
He doesn’t say anything as he leaves the room, giving you the space you need to do whatever it is you’re planning on doing. You take the opportunity to freshen up, you pick up the dental hygiene products he’d thoughtfully left for you and head to the bathroom. You catch his figure slipping into his own bedroom and closing the door behind himself.
Your mind runs rampant now that you’re truly alone. Look where you are. You’re brushing your teeth and preparing to spend the night in Rensuke Kunigami’s house. Sorry, mansion. How the fuck did this happen? Your heart begins to race. Are you actually going to fuck him?
You can’t.
You can’t.
You can already feel your inner child cussing you out for letting him kiss you like he did, no matter how brief it was. It helps, slightly, to tell yourself you have a reason to spend the night. The weather. It would be dangerous to drive in weather like this.
But, Christ, you can feel your cunt throb with want as you think about him railing you in every room of the house.
“Stop.” you whisper to yourself.
You finish brushing your teeth and spit into the sink. And that is when an idea hits you. You splash your face with water and find some cleansing wipes in the cupboard underneath. You start getting ready for bed. Because that is what you should be doing. Sleeping, alone, until you can go home.
When you’re done clearing your face you decide to slip into the clothes Kunigami gave you to wear. Even the ill-fitting, downright hideous shorts.
You emerge from the room, and see Kunigami appear again with a wide smile.
“Hey—”
“I think I’m gonna go to bed.” you blurt out, awkwardly, and Rensuke stops in his tracks.
“Oh… really?”
“Yeah I’m… tired.” you lie, already turning back into your room. “Goodnight.” you call out, not bothering to look at him as you’re already shutting the door behind yourself.
“Goodnight.” he replies, the disappointment in his voice doesn’t go amiss.
You can’t.
You just can’t.
Tumblr media
You can’t fucking sleep.
It’s closing in on midnight when you check the time, and you have a multitude of texts from Maisie blowing up your phone. You can’t bear to respond, though. Not after all of the horror stories you told her about Rensuke. The thought of her knowing that you’re spending the night at his house is just embarrassing. Even though it is innocent enough. You didn’t even kiss, really. You’re just sleeping until morning.
But you can’t sleep.
Your mind is racing with ideas of what could have happened if you didn’t say goodnight. What else could you have gotten up to if you hadn’t had your responsible brain hardwired in. You’re thankful for it, you are. But just because it’s responsible doesn’t mean it’s always right. Right? It’s been so long since you’ve gotten fucked.
Are you depriving yourself over something so trivial?
You throw off your duvet and prepare to leave the room. You’re not looking for him. In fact, you’re hoping he’s asleep, like you should be. But if he catches you roaming the halls, you’ll just tell him you were going to use the bathroom.
The corridors are cold. The chill in the air caresses your no longer covered thighs, you discarded the shorts barely any time after you said goodnight.
You aren’t sure where you’re going, you only have the flash from your phone to light the way. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind you turning the lights on, but you don’t want him to catch you if he is awake. And you don’t want the light creeping into his room to disturb him if he did actually manage to get to sleep.
When you find yourself in the same room as the swimming pool, you have no idea how you even got here. It’s like you were summoned. It’s a mermaid’s lagoon and you were drawn in by a sirens song.
You can’t remember the last time you swam. It’s not like the weather is ever nice enough for it, and you hate public pools. But this… it might even help you feel tired enough to sleep.
You look behind you and approach a set of loungers.
As you’re about to pull Kunigami’s jersey over your head, you screech. The sound of breaching water echoes through the room and you turn around, sharply, to see the source.
“Are you okay?” he bellows, his voice reverberating through the room. “Were you looking for me?”
“Jesus Christ,” you yell, laughing soon after. “I- I couldn’t sleep. You almost gave me a heart attack, I didn’t even know you were in here!” you tell him, truthfully, and he laughs. He swims under the water from one end of the pool to the other. You stand at the edge when he comes up for air again. “I just couldn’t sleep.” you confess, though it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Your voice is quiet and mousy so that your words won’t carry throughout the room.
“Me neither.” he tells you, looking up at you as he does. You notice his eyes stray, catching a glimpse of your panties under his jersey before he shamefully looks away. But he looks, again, as he admires you in his jersey. “Why can’t you sleep?” he asks, the sound of water pouring is boisterous as he raises his hand and pats the edge of the pool.
You look at it, his hand, and understand what he’s doing.
You can’t.
You can’t.
But you do. You crouch down, submerging your lower legs in the warm liquid while it ripples against the back of your thighs and ass. Your breath hitches when you feel his hand on your thighs and raking up the sides. He stands up, his forehead resting against yours as water cascades from his soaking body.
You can’t bring yourself to care when you feel it splash up against you.
The only thing on your mind is how close he is.
“Why can’t you sleep, baby?” he tells you in hushed tones. The weight of his words and the way he speaks them makes your body limp. But he’s there to keep you upright. He angles his head so that his eyes, those honey pot eyes, can focus on you. Your words die on your tongue as you try and formulate a lie.
One won’t come.
“Why did you say you were going to bed when you weren’t tired?” he whispers, again, and you feel your resolve begin to crumble. He’s like an archaeologist, meticulously brushing at an ancient relic that he has no business handling.
He should have left you be.
“I… I don’t know, Rensuke.” you lie. And it’s an awful lie. He’s grinning from ear to ear as he hears you struggle to think of anything better than that. He knows. You both know. That’s why you can’t object when he pulls you closer. His hands force your legs around his waist. How did you get here?
“You look good, princess,” he tells you, tugging gently as his jersey, looking down at the strip that drapes like silk over your cute tits and perfect frame. “Want you to have it…”
“But it’s yours.” you respond. You’re a little taken aback by how demure your voice is as you speak. It’s like you’re instinctively making yourself small for him. Your inner child is protecting you, still to this day. He shakes his head at your words, though.
“It’s yours, I’ve got plenty.” he assures you. He keeps a tight grip of your thighs as he begins to walk you further into the pool. You wrap your arms around his neck and will yourself to remain some semblance of control. But he smirks, his nose touching yours before he pulls away again. “You’re coming for a swim… do you want to take it off?” he wonders.
Your eyes widen in horror as you recall your decision to decision to forgo a bra, knowing it would ruin your outfit. You shake your head, defiantly.
You can’t.
You can’t.
“I’m not wearing anything underneath…” you inform him. He chuckles, at that. In his mind, he knows. And deep down, you know it too. If you don’t find your willpower soon, your bare-naked form won’t be an issue. He closes his eyes and holds them shut, laughing when you repeat his name a few times in an attempt to get him to open them again.
“Take it off, ‘m not looking. You can hide under the water.”
Your movements are halted but for barely any time at all. He has a way of making you submit to anything he wants and you aren’t sure why that is. You were so mad at him hours ago. You didn’t even want to have dinner with him.
But look at you now.
Your legs are wrapped tight around his waist and you’re throwing his football jersey away. It doesn’t land on a lounger, but near enough. And you hold onto his shoulders as he begins to walk you both deeper and deeper into the pool. You don’t want him to feel you, not like that.
It’s getting out of hand.
You can’t stop it.
You can’t help it.
“You can open your eyes.” you tell him, and he stops walking. His eyes slowly open and it takes an incredible amount of restraint for his eyes to not wander beneath the water. And, you feign innocence. You aren’t sure what is wrong with you, because you know you shouldn’t have. But you look away, pretending something in the distance has piqued your interest.
You give him the opportunity to leer at you.
And he’s so thankful.
Even submerged and obscured by the greenish, dithering water, your body looks like an oil painting. To him, you’re a work of art and he’s grateful that you’re even letting him experience you in the slightest. But this… you’re a masterpiece, he thinks.
“Hey,” he speaks, he moves a hand from your thigh to your chin and you cling to him instinctively. He guides your line of sight back to him, looking back at you with a serious stare. “You don’t need to fight me, you know.”
Your heart practically stops at that. At the very least you think it skips a beat. But you hold his stare, eyes vibrating as you look between his as you search for an explanation. Are you truly so easy to read?
He sees you wrestling with your conscience. He doesn’t want to intervene, but what else can he do? He pulls you closer to him, a surprised whimper leaving you as you feel your bare chest come into contact with his.
It doesn’t register to him, though.
You don’t fight when his lips begin to trail your own. No pressure is applied, but you’re breathing is heavy. And he can’t deny that his is matching your own.
“I’m not seventeen anymore.” he reminds you, quietly. Your eyes weld shut and your self-preservation begins to scream at you. Imploring you to have some fucking common sense.
You can’t.
You can’t.
“I know…” you confess.
You look at him briefly, giving him silent permission to proceed. And he takes it. Without hesitation he takes it as his lips capture yours in a sweet kiss. You feel like you’re in a romance novel as it continues. It’s polite but not entirely tame. And for you, it’s been entirely too long since you last kissed anyone. You feel him smile into the kiss when he hears the softest little moan crawl out of your throat. But it fades, fast, when he remembers how lucky he is to be experiencing this.
He doesn’t deserve it.
He doesn’t.
And so, he takes it seriously. He brandishes the plumpness and texture of your lips to the forefront of his mind as you allow him to continue. He implants the way your body arches into his as his fingers trace up the curve of your spine, and how your mouth parts ever so slightly when he reaches the nape of your neck.
You’re perfect.
“Has it been a while? Since you had sex.” he asks, quietly, like it’s some sordid little secret. You feel embarrassed when you register what he’s asking. The insecurity creeps in and you try to pull away. He doesn’t let you, though, pulling you closer and reaffirming his interest with another searing kiss. “You’re so responsive, baby, that’s all.” he tells you.
You kiss him again.
And you feel pathetic. Like a dog humping a stuffed animal as you begin to instinctively roll your hips against him as you beg for more.
“Feels like forever…” you confess, hiding your words into another kiss and hoping he’ll forget you even uttered them. You hear him grunt when you sensually slip your tongue between his lips. He reciprocates, licking at yours as he carries you to the edge of the pool again. “W-What about you?”
You regret asking. Of course, the answer won’t be the same for him. He’s gorgeous. Beautiful, in fact. He’s rich, famous, successful. You’re another in a long line of women who throw themselves at him when given the opportunity.
You certainly aren’t naïve enough to think otherwise.
“Since I had sex? Not too long ago.” he responds, and it’s effortless. You knew. You fucking knew and yet you’re still feeling hurt. And you feel ashamed of yourself in the same breath. It doesn’t matter, really, you know who came before you and who came before him are irrelevant to what’s happening right now in this moment. But still, the feeling of embarrassment lurks. “I don’t remember the last time I fucked anyone the way I want to fuck you, though.” he finishes.
And now, you’re ravenous.
Your lips find his again. And the politeness has died, drowned in the pool along with your morals and self-respect, you figure. Your fingers grab and pull at whatever they can find. One hand finds purchase on one of his biceps and digs and squeezes into the hard flesh. The other tugs and pulls at his hair residing just above his undercut.
And he moans when you yank his pretty orange tufts. He breaks the kiss, laughing, for a moment after he recognises what you just stole from the pits of his lungs.
You feel your ass come into contact with the edge of the pool as he sits you down in the middle of a kiss. He breaks it, sinking down further into the water until you’re looking down at him. Your heart rate quickens as you feel deft fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.
And you can’t control your body, moving on autopilot as you lean back and keep your legs together as he steals the black lace from your body. He has no regard for where they land, but you hear a faint splash as they float on the surface of the pool. You won’t see them again, you think. They’re soon to absorb the chlorinated water and sink to the tiles framing the pool.
You sit back upright but find yourself unable to meet his eyes again. Instead, you stare up at the ceiling as he gently pries your thighs apart one by one. He’s slow, and careful, as he parts them. Soaking in the sight of your intricate folds.
“Pretty everywhere, huh? So fuckin’ pretty…” he expresses. You feel his thumb drift along your inner thigh to your pubis. A soft, low chuckle escapes him as it comes into contact with your pubic hair. A perfect landing strip guiding his eyes to your scintillating cunt. “You did this for me.” he states. He doesn’t ask, he tells you. And your eyes snap back to look down at him, defensively splashing him with water.
“I didn’t know it was going to be you,” you remind him. “I wanted to be prepared in case I—”
“But it was me.” he interrupts, wrapping his arms around your thighs after wiping the excess water from his face. “You’re letting me see. So it’s all for me, princess.” he continues. You don’t have a response, despite his logic seeming broken at best. It’s for him, now. But had you known who would be walking into that restaurant…
His breath fans across your heat as he places his thumb at the top of your lips and pulls back the hood of your clit. You gasp, letting your head sink as you lean back on your hands and rest your weight on them. And he spits on it, sucking at it soon after.
“’h my God…” you start, moving a hand to his hair, threading your fingers through damp, orange strands as he continues to suckle at your clit.
You’ve lost the means to feel embarrassment anymore as he looks up at you with his head buried between your thighs. Though you can’t deny the hot flush you feel as he makes a holy show of flattening his tongue between your lips and licking upwards from your oozing hole to your still exposed clit.
But you lose him, again, as he decides to focus.
He didn’t think he could burrow any deeper between your legs until you feel his still hooked arm drag you closer to the pools edge. You tug at his hair again when he finds his rhythm, and he emits another grunt that vibrates throughout your sex.
You admire how his muscles flex as his grip around your thighs intensifies. He feels how your hips begin to buck, like you’re getting there. Like he’s helping you get there but you’re still trying to run from him.
You can’t.
Not anymore.
He looks up at you with golden retriever eyes as you begin to moan. It’s quiet, until it’s not. Quiet, secretive breaths begin to turn into sinful, saccharine moans that echo right back to you as they bounce from the walls.
His nose wiggles and nestles against the perfectly formed line of your pubic hair. It tickles, but he’s always had an affinity for landing strips. It’s nothing he can’t handle. And it’s something that drives him wild.
You clamp your legs around his head as you start to dance along the cliffs edge of your orgasm. But he parts them, easily, his veins bulge in his hands as he grips tightly into the doughy flesh of your thighs.
“Ren- Rensuke—!” you cry out, unable to even warn him before he’s already dragged you into toe-curling bliss. And he prolongs it, divinely, not altering his ministrations even as you begin to shudder and scream. “S’too much, Rensuke, f-fuck…” you pant, looking down at him as he finally begins to slow down.
“’m not done, though.” he warns you. He liberates your left thigh from his grasp, but his fingers lightly trail down your inner thigh and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of your sensitivity. You twitch and spasm from the lightest of touch.
Though the whine that rips through your vocal chords is just as delightful. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t even predict it when you felt two thick fingers seamlessly slot inside of your clenching entrance and curl up against your g-spot.
“Fuuuuuck, no, Rensuke, c-can’t.” you warn him, partially succumbing to light headedness as you feel him hone in and target your squishy slippery inner walls without remorse. You’re shivering. You’d like to think it’s just the exposure of wet skin to the stormy air, but it’s too much. You know it’s too much.
“You think too much,” he tells you, head sinking low again to continue feasting upon your gorgeously ruined flesh. Your pussy pulsates through the recent orgasm and the overstimulation. He’s going to be disappointed when he realises you can’t even fathom the idea of cumming again.
You just can’t.
Your body goes limp as he nudges a particularly delicate spot and presses down on your lower abdomen. The moan that leaves you at the feeling is downright pornographic. You can’t see, you can’t feel, but he’s smirking. He doesn’t relent, but his ego and his cock swell with pride as that salacious fucking moan plays on repeat in his brain.
The hand applying pressure ventures up north of your body. And your cunt clamps down on his fingers as his adventurous hand grabs the fat of your breasts and gropes your flesh. You moan, weakly, with no energy left in you as he tweaks at your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.
You’re pathetic, you think.
It was this easy for him to reduce you to this.
But you can’t help it. Your body is spent and you can feel another orgasm climbing through your nervous system. And yet, despite being wrecked, your body still finds the energy to clench and groan as you feel pleasure surge through you. Your toes curl, again, before they spread and widen and you try and gain some sort of control over what Rensuke is thrusting upon you.
Another scream is torn from you as you fall, no, you’re pushed from what seemed like a higher cliff than the first. Your back arches from the tile and further into Kunigami’s titillating touch.
“Rensuke, I- I…” you aren’t even sure what you want to say when you begin babbling. You manage to rest your weight on your hands again and look down at him. He showers your inner thighs with adoring kisses, they’re sweet and loving and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were falling in love.
He pulls his fingers out of your spasming walls and looks up at you. Your jaw is agape, slightly, as you feel him spit a perfect glob of saliva onto your clit without even looking. He needs to stop. You shake your head as you see the gears turn in his brain and you catch up almost instantly. You try to pull his wrist away but you’re weak.
“C-Can’t, Rensuke… no more!” you tell him, despite trying to sound firm, you just sound pathetic.
He can’t stop.
So he doesn’t.
He rubs the two fingers that were inside you just moments ago repeatedly over your throbbing clit. The smile sprawling across his face is that of a menace. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He thinks he knows your body better than you do.
And, hell, he might.
You say you can’t.
But why are you moaning for him?
“Doin’ so good for me, princess.” he tells you, kissing your inner thigh again as he continues his assault. His eyes droop as he admires how tender and overstimmed your pussy is. You can keep going, though. He’s sure of it. “You moan really pretty when you cum… ‘n I can tell she likes attention.” he speaks, it’s gruff but somehow still soft. He doesn’t look at you right away after he speaks. Instead his eyes remain focused on your tremoring cunt.
“I’m— I c-aaaan’t. Anymore, no more, ‘mmm hmrmf…” you struggle to even make sense in your mind of what you were originally trying to say as the nonsense you actually spouted takes root in your brain. He laughs, shallowly, as you try to reason with him.
You can’t reason with him, though.
Not when he knows better and your cunt is betraying your weak will.
“Goin’ dumb for me ‘cause you feel too good, huh?” he chuckles, tilting his head as he tries to command your focus on him. The way every inch of your skin trembles with pleasure makes his cock leak like he could never imagine. He’s glad he’s in the water so you can’t see what a pathetic mess your pretty noises alone have him reduced to. Though he makes a mental note to get the pool cleaned tomorrow. “Don’t need to think when you’re cumming. Jus’ cum for me. Can tell she wants to… just let go, princess.”
“Haah, hn- hnnnnng—!” you finish with a cry, you can’t believe he’s managed to make you cum three times in such quick succession.
Even as an adult, Rensuke Kunigami has found a way to reduce you into a sobbing puddle.
He frees you, eventually, allowing your body to catch up to what has just happened. He finally lets you close your legs and allow your twitching quim to recover, alleviating the pressure between them.
He hoists himself out of the water, though. And he climbs effortlessly above you. And, really, you know he’s always been a big guy. It’s arguably his most defining trait. But fuck, like this, while you’re shivering and spent, he’s fucking massive.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks. The soft, caring voice contrasts completely with his all-consuming presence. He lowers his head to kiss between the valley of your breasts and down to your navel. But he stops short and looks at you again. “We can, if you want. But… I’m having fun with you.”
You should answer. He’s asking for consent, after all. Your lips part and reseal repeatedly as you try and decide on what to say. You’re having fun, too. But can you handle it? Can you handle more of this?
“You’re so… big.” you whisper, and you don’t know where that even came from. You giggle when you see him smile at your silly comment, and he immediately has a retort spring to mind.
“My cock matches, y’know. Why d’you think I made you cum so much?” he tells you. “Well… I like making pretty girls cum anyway, but you’ll thank me. If you wanna keep going, that is.”
“I want to fuck… want you to fuck me, ‘Suke.” you admit. He lifts your back away from the cold, damp tiles and pulls you into his embrace. You receive one final, show-stopping kiss from him as he pulls down his swim shorts. You keep your eyes on him, not having the confidence to look down below.
He grabs your chin, his thumb helping tilt your head and guiding you to look at his length. And, embarrassingly, you gasp. He chuckles, kissing your forehead and you look between him and the impressive size he possesses. It’s scary, honestly, looking at how thick and heavy his cock is and what it will feel like inside.
There isn’t a doubt in your mind that you’ve never seen a dick like this and you surely won’t again. He’s big, thick. And long to boot. His tip is prominent but soft. Like you could suck it into your mouth and hear a pretty pop sound once it’s in. You could run your tongue along the ridge and make him hiss from the pleasure.
The thickness is akin to an energy drink can. Eight long inches threaten to invade your apparently well-prepared walls, but still, you aren’t so sure. His veins aren’t prominent, but they’re there. You see them running along his shaft in different directions. And then you do find one. One throbbing, prominent vein as you admire each and every inch of his heavenly member.
You’ve never had an affinity for balls. Seeing them as a nuisance that are just there rather than anything you have any interest in pleasuring. But for him. For those. You could be persuaded. They’re heavy, God they look heavy but every inch of him does. He’s a large, imposing man and his balls are no exception.
It turns you on to no discernible degree to think about how full and aching his balls must be after you’ve teased him all night. How they’ll tighten and release as he floods you with his cum when he’s through with you.
“Need you, Rensuke, n-now.” you tell him, unable to function without feeling him inside of you for a second longer.
A brief panic shoots through your veins as he pulls you back into the water like a siren. But he stops short of pulling you to your death.
At least, in the literal sense.
You might experience your fourth little death as soon as he sticks his tip in you.
The water sloshes around you as you’re pushed into the pool wall. Your legs sit comfortably on his hips as he guides his still leaking cockhead into your greedy cunt. You moan in tandem as you become accommodated with each other.
“You’re so cute, s’fucking tight, princess.” he tells you, silencing any response you might have had with an ardent kiss. You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you. And it’s calculated, of course, as he pushes further and further into your sticky walls.
It wasn’t enough.
Three wasn’t enough.
The thickness of his length would have you screaming if he wasn’t keeping a firm grasp on the crown of your head so you couldn’t pull away to voice how the stinging stretch was affecting you.
He doesn’t let go until he’s in. Fully in. You feel him kiss your cheeks and now you can finally moan, pant, screech if you so choose. But as your breathing comes out in hiccupped sobs, you realise he isn’t kissing your cheeks.
He’s kissing away your tears.
“Took me so well, gorgeous.” he mutters against your skin, still continuing to softly peck his lips against your damp skin. “You’re so good… such a good girl, princess. I’m so proud of you, bein’ so good f’me tonight.”
It makes you cry more, though you aren’t sure why. You can barely think about what he was like back then. When he was cruel and callous for no viable reason. But you’d never have heard such sweet sounds from him like you’re hearing now. You’re a good girl, and it’s for him.
Your tongues tangle into a clumsy fervour as he starts to move his hips. The sound water lapping at your bodies is deafening. He lifts you up, slightly, so that he can pound himself into you without restriction.
Both of you find it hard to keep kissing romantically and consistently the harder and faster he batters his cock against your insides. Your lips touch but your mouths hang open. And he’s looking at you. Really fucking looking at you as he drinks in every facial contortion you make from the feeling of his cock bullying itself against your self-destruct button.
He loves the way you bite your lip when you’re close. How your eyes cross and you look so damn wet and pathetic as he brings you to ruin again. It’s a sight he’d have tattooed on the back of his eyelids if he could. He’s been around the world and still couldn’t name a more beautiful sight.
Maybe you could be a porn star, he thinks. If both of your careers fall through, he knows what a good fallback will be if you were so inclined. You’re perfect. Every inch of you, top to bottom, is perfect.
You can barely hold onto consciousness as you feel his heavy breeder balls slap relentlessly against your ass. But you hang on, you have to when he grabs the lower half of your face and pinches your cheeks until your lips pucker.
“Is my good girl about to cum?” he asks, and you nod, dumbly. “That’s it… stay with me. Wanna watch your pretty face while you cum again.” he orders.
You breath faster, fighting against the crushing urge to close your eyes and let go of your body completely. But you’ll do anything he asks, in this moment, so long as he keeps calling you a good girl.
“Can I cum inside?” he asks, thrusts increasing in pace as he jackhammers into you. He’s close, too, but he wants you to cum first. It’ll tip him over the edge if you cream him like this. It’s all he wants. It’s all he needs. “Or should I p-pull out?” he struggles, the thought of spraying your body with his seed appeals to him just as much.
“D-Don’t pull out, Rensuke, don’t you dare…” you command. “Hnf, ah, I’m! Haaah, aah, f-fuck—!” you finish.
“Shit, shit.” he follows you right after. It seems that he would have came inside whether you wanted him to or not. “Ohhhh, fuck, baby. Fuckin’ perfect pussy… take it.” he finishes, too, his pace only slowing by a fraction as his cock spurts rope after rope of pearlescent cum into your cunt.
The sound of water calms after some time. The waves lap around you, carefully, as you breathe and sweat after such a vigorous workout.
It surprises you, a little, as he kisses you after the fact. You thought he’d turn a little colder after he got what he wanted. But you underestimate him again, clearly, as he kisses you sweetly.
“That… amazing.” you tell him, not possessing the energy to fill the rest of the sentence. The start and end are enough for him to figure it out, though. And he cradles your body in his arms as he walks you both to the shallower end of the pool with the staircase. “’m so tired.”
“I know, baby.” he hushes you, you feel like a child in his hold. You’re so little in comparison and you’re still surprised he didn’t break you. He manages to effortlessly pick up his jersey and walk you towards the pool room door. “Gonna get you cleaned up, ‘n we can go straight to sleep.” he promises.
Tumblr media
You can’t remember the last time you got such a good nights sleep. Really, you barely remember even falling asleep. You remember Rensuke washing your body and your hair in a warm bubble bath. But you don’t remember him putting you to bed.
Waking up in his arms was a nice feeling, though.
So nice you felt compelled to wake him up with a reward.
He stirred in his sleep as you began to kiss down his bare chest and further down his body. He’s a light sleeper, you came to realise, as he woke up with a cheeky smile on his face and asked what you were doing.
You took his cock between your lips and showed him just how thankful you were for his attentive treatment and aftercare from last night. And you may have wanted to give him a reason to remember you if he wanted to consider going on another date.
He got close.
Really close.
Until he pulled you away to sit on his cock.
“’m not wasting my cum in your mouth when I can cream this cunt again.” he smirks, helping you straddle his hips before lowering yourself down onto that perfect fucking dick again. And he watches you ride him, his jersey riding up slightly with each rise and fall of your hips.
“L-Love your cock, Rensuke, s’fucking big.” you moan like a slut with no remorse. You can’t act coy anymore. Not after last night.
“S’all yours, baby.” he tells you. His attention is stolen from observing your enjoyment when he hears a buzzing on the side table. He reaches for it, and you don’t even notice while your eyes are screwed shut.
And he realises it isn’t his phone.
It’s yours.
He moves slightly, so that he’s sitting upright, covering your mouth as he answers the call. Your blood runs cold as you feel the cold glass of your iPhone screen pressed against your cheek and your ear. Your eyes widened in horror as you look down at Rensuke for help.
“Hello?!” Maisie.
He uncovers your mouth, allowing you to speak. “H-Hey, Maisie.”
“I texted you so many times, where have you been? Did you get home alright? I was so worried!” she yells at you. You can tell she’s in her office pacing back and forth on the tiles as her heels click with each step. She’s pacing. She’s furious.
“S-Sorry! I was just, it was a weird night!” you try and answer simply without lying or giving too much away. But your heart quick starts again as Rensuke holds onto your hips. You're mouthing and no no no! Butit’s ignored as he nods sadistically. He holds tightly onto your hips until your flesh spills between his fingers. And he fucks. You whimper pathetically as you seal your lips in a bid to keep quiet. He really is a sadist, he looks like he’s going to cum to the sight of you desperately trying to maintain your composure.
“I cannot believe I set you up with your old bully, that is so my luck.” she laughs. “Did you just get a taxi home?”
“A-Ah! Uh, yeah I know, c-crazy.” you struggle. “S-Sort of. Eliza was in the area so she picked me up.” so much for not lying.
“Oh, really? That’s good.” she replies, though the click clacking of her heels comes to a stop. “Weird, though, considering I rang all of the girls to see if any of them had talked to you. None of them did.”
“T-That’s… weird.” you reply, eyes rolling back as you try and maintain a level head and think of a way to get off the call. “Um, I uh—”
“I’m at work, just looking through some of my client's details. I’ve got Rensuke’s address up on my screen right now.” she starts. Oh fuck. “You know what else is on my screen?”
“W-What?”
“Find my fucking friend you little slut! Oh my God!” she screams, though you can’t tell if she’s actually screaming or if it’s melded into laughter. “Did you fuck your bully? You whore!”
“I— It’s complicated, nngh!” your free hand flies to your mouth as you spasm through another mind-altering orgasm shatters through you. Rensuke keeps a firm hold of your hips as you tighten around his cock. You hold the phone as far away from your face as you possibly can, though it doesn’t matter. Not when Rensuke cums in you again with no regard to his volume.
“Oh… my God.” Maisie speaks, though you barely hear it. You bring the phone back to your ear and sigh. You already know you’re busted, there’s no point in hiding it now. “I thought I heard a mattress squeaking. Have you just fucked?!”
“Hmph… yeah. Sorry.”
“I’ll pick you up later if you need a lift, I want all the details you absolute slut.” she laughs, sitting down in her office chair as she actually starts to do some work. “How was the date though, was it good?” she asks, knowing she’ll have to go soon.
You look at Rensuke’s pink, sweaty face and wide smile. You melt into the way his thumbs stroke into your sides so tenderly. And you smile back at him, a newfound confidence you’ve never felt before.
“It was… fucking amazing.”
Tumblr media
© 2023 rinhaler
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
simpxxstan · 25 days
Text
Nobody Else (jww oneshot: part 1)
pairing: chaebol!wonwoo x chaebol!fem.reader
genre: enemies with benefits to lovers, smut (minors do not interact please), mild angst, fluff in part 2
summary: the girl who was proud about making her own destiny, the boy she swore to never interact with. sometimes it takes a lifetime to know someone, even yourself. because who would've seen any of this coming?
chapter word count: 13k
warnings: honestly, way too much smut. cockwarming, oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving), usage of sex toys, orgasm denial, gagging, overstimulation, dom-sub dynamics, public sex (i don't even know if it's feasible, please suspend your beliefs about reality while reading aah), unprotected sex (please do not do this irl), breast play, spanking, use of spit during sex, usage of petnames (darling, babe, sweetheart for female), usage of word slut (for female), usage of sir and daddy (for male), sir kink, daddy kink, office sex, use of profanities, lots of bickering. let me know if i missed something out!
a/n: and we're back. (or are we?) honestly, i write when i get the time. and i don't know when i'll get my schedule to clear up again </3 hopefully within a few months my life will be back on track.
hope you enjoy this!!! posting this in two parts because it's way too long otherwise. part 2 coming soon ^^ do leave your thoughts, i swear reading them makes me so happy. open to hearing criticism too so pls my inbox is right there for you to rant. have a nice day!
Tumblr media
You’ve known Jeon Wonwoo since the age of eleven, but you’d never thought you’d end up like this. Being in the same social circles as you and your family, the young Jeon heir had never really been your friend. However, that did not mean you didn’t meet him. In fact, you met him quite often. He went to the same school as you, he was always there at the parties you went to, and everyone around you kept talking about him. No matter what the season or the age, everyone was infatuated with Jeon Wonwoo. 
Objectively speaking, no. 
Subjectively speaking, not at all. 
You could never understand why one would find a man with no beauties to his personality, nothing to his merit except a pair of thick-rimmed glasses and those never-changing black clothes, attractive. Apart from that, he never exchanged a friendly conversation with you. Never a moment of warmth. And you reciprocated the feeling absolutely. You had no desire to seek his favour. He simply never left the periphery of your life, and it annoyed you. But not enough to bother you. You’d grown used to the sight of the tall boy, who never spoke to anyone except his tight-knit group of absolute losers. And he should have remained in your periphery, never in your focus. You wanted nothing to do with the cold, arrogant nerd. 
So naturally, you’d never, in your wildest imaginations, thought that you’d be here, sucking his dick off under his desk while he engaged himself in a meeting on his desktop. You had been in that position for hours, your mouth lolling over the wetness surrounding his penis, both from your saliva and the slow trickle of his pre-cum. While he has switched from meeting to meeting, both with corporates in Korea and internationally, his suit impeccable and the glasses sitting neatly on his nose, you’d cockwarmed him. That would’ve still been fine, had you not enjoyed it so thoroughly that it had become a routine for you both over the months. 
After a solid two hours (and a few more minutes), he’d allowed himself to push back the chair a bit, pull his pants down further, spread his legs wide enough to meet the annoying temptation that had been bugging him for so long, and thread his hands into your hair, indicating you to step out of the haze you’d fallen into and get on with the job. And oh boy, you’d obeyed. At this point, it was a reflex for you. Feeling the way his hands caved your jaws and neck, you leaned into his touch, all while keeping your eyes on the little twitches he made on his face. Perhaps it was his need to be dominant, or perhaps it was just his arrogance, but he never slipped during sex. Even when you were giving him the most mind-blowing blowjob, like right now, using techniques you’d picked up over time, slipping your tongue under his cock to feel his veins throb around your tongue, gently nipping the foreskin to make the red tip burn harder, and taking him into your throat completely without a moment of a gag reflex. He’d never show you how much he liked it, never praised you, never revealed that he wanted it as much as you did. 
It was all a part of the act, you knew that. 
It was designed to make you more eager to perform well, more eager to earn his praise, more eager to put your all into this. 
Jeon Wonwoo, with his signature cold stares and the arrogant tilt of his smirk, would break you every time, and you’d come back for it, again and again, addicted mindlessly, like a drug. 
Eventually, his cum would flow down your throat, and you’d feel his body relax against yours, as he let you lay your head on his thighs for a few moments to recuperate. 
But never enough. 
“Up, sweetheart. I thought you had a party to attend.”
He helps you stand up, smirking at the pool of your cum on the floor where you’d been sitting, with the bullet vibrator parked deep into your pussy, which had given you endless orgasms and sent you into heaven, all while you’d felt the weight of Wonwoo’s warmth on your tongue. 
His words bring you back to reality, as you limp towards the washroom to clean yourself, slowly breaking your daze. “I do. When are you going to change?”
“I don’t want to. I’ll look good even if I don’t doll up.” With a snicker he goes back to his desktop, and you roll your eyes at the implication of his words.
“I still don’t understand why you’d ask them to deliver the dress here.”
“It is pretty late. Imagine if I’d have to go back home, change, and then leave for the venue. Too much hassle. I would have to leave an hour back. Your place is much closer to the venue.”
“And so you chose to make my bedroom your vanity room?
From Wonwoo’s vantage point in the study, he has a direct view into the master bedroom, where you’re settling yourself into a fresh pair of lingerie and the jumpsuit, which had been designed exclusively for you, for this occasion. The jumpsuit was perfect, made to look professional and yet classy, just as the event demanded, and in midnight blue, your favourite shade. You smiled while wearing it, your secretary had truly learnt your style well and ordered the perfect outfit for you. 
“I’ll be out in ten.” You can feel his eyes on your figure, even from the distance.
You’re too engrossed in fixing the zip on your back to notice Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, his eyes fixated on you. 
“Do you need help?”
You give him a look. There’s that semi-permanent smirk lingering on his face, he knows he’s pushing your buttons. Outside of sex, you would never ask for help. In fact, you wouldn’t ask Wonwoo for anything. What could he do for you that you couldn’t do yourself? 
He doesn’t say anything else, he quietly steps in and takes grip of the zip. After pulling it up, he doesn’t say a word, carefully watching you wear your scanty makeup. It could be a little creepy, but you surprisingly don’t mind. Or perhaps you just don’t care. 
“Ah fuck. I forgot to bring the lip gloss.”
“But you just wore lipstick?”
“No,” you turn around and outside of Wonwoo’s periphery. Slipping your feet into your heels and putting on the earrings that had also been sent by your secretary, you told him, “The lip-plumping one. It makes my lips look nice. Well, nicer. They’re already quite pretty, as I’ve been told.” You hear Wonwoo scoff behind you, and you turn around to face him. 
“Well, how do I look?”
His hands are in his pockets, his shirt buttons are halfway opened and his hair is messy, but he still looks better than you do after all this effort. 
“They’ll love you.”
You smile. That’s more than enough feedback from Jeon Wonwoo. He doesn’t have to praise you outside sex if he can’t do it while fucking.
“They always do.”
_
And they do. The photographers, the journalists, the social elites, the ministers, their wives, their mistresses, the chaebols, their heirs, and their bastards. Everyone loves you. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way possible. At twenty six, you’re at the height of your life- young, charming and intelligent, everybody wants you. Ever since you took your father’s already prospering business to new heights four years ago, straight out of grad school, by introducing Korea to the world of AI like they’d never seen before. The industry had not just been disrupted by your introduction of AI to the field of healthcare and diagnosis, but also awed by the sheer magnanimity of your creations. You hadn’t spent years perfecting your ideas in vain. 
Everyone wants a little bit of your time, a little word with you, slipping in a plea and a pickup line in the same tone, and you love the attention they throw at you. Honestly, this is where you were born to be. The spotlight is where you deserve to belong. 
But eventually, the crowd dissipates, leaving you walking towards the bar looking for a martini, arm looped into the arm of your sister. “Y/N-ah, I tell you, let’s go to Jeju this weekend! The weather is perfect now- not too hot, not too cold. The forecast also recommends visiting now!” She tugs at your arm playfully, and you smile fondly. She knows your answer, but she never stops trying. “And what about your husband?” “I need a break from him, please. He’s getting on my nerves!” “Darling, it’s your hormones.” She slaps your wrist. “No! Stop saying that. Kyungmin says the exact same thing, in the exact same tone! It’s so annoying. Stop ganging up against me! Anyway it’s not my fault I’m pregnant. The least he can do is take care of me. If he can’t take care of me now, how is he going to be trained to become a father? Huh? How will he take care of our daught-” “You don’t even know that.” “I do. I have a feeling.” “You can just say you want a girl, you know. There’s nothing called ‘a feeling’.” “Damn it. Just because you have a trash sixth sense doesn’t mean you can dismiss mine, my intuition never goes wrong!” 
And you’ve reached the bar, and the bartender serves you your drinks- just a virgin mojito for your sister though. “The canapes are great.” “Hmm… But I’m craving oranges! That’s why we should go to Jeju, yah!” “Unnie, you’ve gotta stop. Don’t excite yourself more than you need to. Do you want orange juice?” “No, eww. Not this artificial flavour.” “If you really want to go to Jeju, take Kyungmin Oppa and go. Don’t ask for me- I’ll never be able to keep up with your tantrums.” “Hmm. That is true. Now that you mention him, I suddenly miss him. For all my complaints, I still love him though-” You giggle at the sudden sappy tone of your sister, tuning out parts of her endless chatter, while your eyes search for someone in the crowds. 
Jeon Wonwoo stands out, so he’s easy to find. 
He’s wearing the same suit he’d worn earlier, not changed like he had told you. He looks tired and yet, good. Before you realise it, he’s looking back at you, and walking towards where the two of you are standing. 
“Oh! Wonwoo-yah! How have you been?” Your sister asks, ever friendly. She’s the only one in the family who doesn’t show that the Jeon and Y/L/N families are rivals in business and hence, avoid speaking to each other. That norm wasn’t broken by you. To be fair, even the nights you spent together had very little conversation. No orgasm-induced dopamine could break through the wall of your egos to encourage you to be friendly with each other. Hell, outside of the bedroom, Wonwoo isn’t even attractive enough to catch your eye. 
“Hmm, I’m good, Noona. I see your baby is growing fast. How many weeks left?” His tone is courteous, formal, and sweet. Makes you want to laugh at how different he sounds from the usual voice you hear him speak in. 
“About eleven weeks to go. This trimester has been killing me, I swear. I’ve told Kyungmin I don’t want any more kids. Ever. I don’t think I can go through this again, and I haven’t even gotten to the pain of delivery yet. I don’t even know if I can go back to skating after this.”
You scoff. “As if. First get over your never-ending honeymoon period. Then talk about not having any more kids.”
“I support Y/N here. The company will need an heir, and I don’t see anyone else providing any.” 
You sigh. There he goes. You roll your eyes at him, “An heir doesn’t have to be through blood relation. Merit exists. But then how can I explain this to someone whose existence is owed to nepotism.” 
“Rich of you to say so.”
You take a step closer to Wonwoo, too riled up by the calm way he’s speaking. “I’ve built my world from the ground. From level zero. I haven’t just sat on a throne that was presented to me.” 
“Forever the brat, huh? Running your mouth even in public, begging me to shut it?” You notice that Wonwoo has also come closer to you, and you can smell the cologne off him. He’s a solid four inches taller than you, even when you’re wearing heels. But you stare right back into his eyes, yours angry and his cold and superior, as usual. You wonder for the n-th time if his blood even runs warm. You’re tempted to retort back, disgusted by the below-the-belt remark, going off-topic, but your sister’s gently pulling your arm, reminding you that you’re in public. “Back off. Don’t make a scene, guys. Let’s not ruin the evening?” She puts on her best smile to calm you down, and you step away, seething in vain. Wonwoo’s smirk never leaves his face as you two bow and walk away. The way he’s looking at you reminds you of other memories. 
You suddenly wonder if your sister had heard the comment or not. Considering her though, probably not. Thank god it was her and not someone else. 
_
The rest of the party flows seamlessly. You’re spiralling slightly in your head though- overthinking can’t be avoided. The way Wonwoo was successful in riling you up has shocked you, to say the least. There have been a thousand such instances, but you don’t remember losing your temper to this extent in any of the situations. But somehow, Wonwoo talking about you not being interested to have children vexed you so much? It just didn’t add up. 
It’s the first time you’re doubting your current situation. You’d been absolutely convinced that settlement between the two of you was more to your benefit than his. It wasn’t like you had a dearth of men wanting to fuck you. It was quite the opposite. But a few scandals and rumours had taught you that keeping your private life discreet was the optimal choice. Especially if you were a woman and people simply assumed you’d sucked someone’s dick to get ahead in life. 
But the arrangement with Wonwoo was so perfect. He wanted discretion, so did you. He didn’t want to get involved with a random hookup who could get pregnant, you didn’t want a random hookup to get you pregnant. He wanted someone to match his wavelength, and you needed a vent for your stress. Now that you consider the drastic improvement in your energy and efforts, in retrospection, becoming Jeon Wonwoo’s submissive had been the best decision of your life. 
_
It had begun quite suddenly. At your sister’s engagement party. Everyone was delighted with the new couple, especially you. Your sister had never shown any desire to join the company, satisfied with following her passion of ice skating. And now she was getting married to her boyfriend of five years, the love of her life, and everyone was left fondly jealous of the pure happiness on her face, even you.
Perhaps it was because of this jealousy that you’d decided to flirt with Wonwoo at the after-party. Against your better judgement, you’d drifted towards him by the end of the night, until your knees were touching on the barstools, and he was leaning back looking over your figure again and again. I was wondering which spot would be ideal for me to bite first- your collarbones, your cleavage, your thighs or your belly button, he would tell you later. God knows why you’d suddenly decided to find him attractive after fifteen years of knowing each other, but that was it. You’d ended up in a hotel bed that night, fucked until tears ran down your cheeks, begging him to go harder and faster whenever he slowed down to look at the mascara dripping down your face, leaving hickeys all over the soft skin of your breasts, not letting you rest of a second of the night, going at it till dawn. 
“Wonwoo… I can’t…” you’d begged, your words muffled through your panties stuffed into your own mouth, the overstimulation hitting you hard as you squirmed against his tongue fucking his cum back into your pussy. “You can, sweetheart, give me another one… hmm? Do you want to be a good girl?” 
And you had let loose. Given yourself up to him, to make or break you, as he wanted, and then put you together one by one as the sun rose up in the sky as you’d drifted to sleep. The next afternoon, you’d woken up feeling like a new person, and decided it was the best night of your life. The man in question was nowhere to be seen, but you didn’t care. The bliss ran too deep. 
Sadly, not deep enough. The overthinking kicked in a few hours later, and you cussed yourself for becoming so easy for an undeserving man like Wonwoo. Just because he’d made you cum and given you a good time didn’t mean you’d go against your rational thoughts. In a way, he was no better than your best dildo. Except you liked your dildo. You simply did not like Jeon Wonwoo. The arrogant brat had been the type of man you’d avoided all of your life. You hadn’t seen him work hard in school, and now that he had inherited his father’s company, you didn’t see him work any harder either. Sure, Jeon Estates was doing better than ever, but that was only because the economy was booming and the housing market was doing well. He had done nothing extra. Unlike you, who had built your world yourself. You’d never taken your father’s prosperity as complacency, and strived to make a name for yourself. And now people knew of Y/L/N Corporation as synonymous to both your father’s name and your name. 
And you had, like a silly stupid girl, gone and slept with this very man. 
And you had liked it. 
That was the worst bit. An accidental hookup would have been fine. But no, you wanted to sleep with him every night, if it meant he’d treat you to the same feast you’d blissed out on last night. There was a certain happiness in giving up to him, letting go of the constant worries that burdened you down, and allowing him to take control, but god knows how you ended up trusting him so much in bed.
Anyway, you reconciled with yourself, it’s just a one-time thing. It’s not like it’s going to happen again. 
You were wrong. Jeon Wonwoo had picked you up that evening and taken you directly to his house. 
“What did you want to talk about that you couldn’t do in your car?”
“The chauffeur was there.” 
“It’s not a big deal, Jeon. You can just say that you regret last night, cause honestly, same. Don’t want to dwell on it.” You were in a rush to leave, because you didn’t want to think about the memories in this same house the night ago. 
“Are you sure?”
His question had taken you aback, as he watched you with his hawk eyes, licking his lips.
“Y/N, I … couldn’t tell you in my car that I didn’t regret it. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
You’re speechless, waiting for him to continue, as he took another step forward. 
“Wonwoo, I… you know this is a bad idea.”
“I do,” he chuckles darkly. “You look like a bad idea, as I’ve known for years now. But when I see you wearing that hideous turtleneck to hide the hickeys and that tiny skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I keep remembering the way you submitted to me last night. For all your big talk and your attitude, you obey pretty easily, huh?”
You stand up, indignant. “Wonwoo, you can’t use that against me. Listen I know we’re not friends-”
“Be my submissive. I want, no fuck, I need you. You’re perfect.” He’s standing an inch away from you, bending his neck gently to look into your eyes. His mask slips for a second. A million emotions flit through your brain, and you’re deliriously begging for your intelligence to kick in, but there’s something about the subtly layered desperation in Wonwoo’s voice that makes you curious. 
“What are your terms?”
_
You look at Wonwoo across the dining table. He looks as put-together as ever, not a hair out of place, as he converses with the middle aged-men sitting next to him while eating dinner. He quickly notes your glance and looks back, and you turn your eyes away before he catches the blush along your cheeks. 
No, there’s nothing wrong with the arrangement. It works perfectly in your favour. As long as nobody knows. 
_
You’re wrapping up a meeting with the board members of the company, when you get a call on your phone. It’s Wonwoo. Excusing yourself from the meeting, you pick up the call while walking back to your office.
“Hello?”
“Are you going to the Paris Conclave?”
The invitation for the event had arrived just that evening, the first time they were inviting your company. It had made you gush with excitement, happy that you’d been able to take your company to this prestigious conclave. Moreover, this would be the first time you’d be visiting Paris, one of the few dream destinations of your life. Due to a packed professional schedule, you had hardly been able to travel for the past few years, and the thought of going to Paris made you naturally happy.
“Yes, of course. Getting fomo? I can get a croissant back home for you.”
“I can get my own. See you there.”
He cuts the call. 
What was that? He’s going to the conclave as well? That’s impossible. Jeon Estates had never been invited before this-
“Jisung-ah.” You call for your secretary, who appears at your side quickly. “Has the Jeon Estates been invited to the conclave?” 
“Ma’am, I- why, yes. I hadn’t checked the list for their name.” His voice drops as he speaks, mirroring the disappointment rising in you too. So, it wasn’t only you who had been invited for the first time. 
Fucking Jeon Wonwoo. Even had to call you to rub it in, the nerve. 
“Well, we’ll just have to outshine them there. I’m sure we shall. Please organise a meeting with the team leaders and managers today so that we can get the presentations perfected.”
Your secretary bows to you and leaves you alone in your office. 
_
Paris comes sooner than you had thought, and you’re bursting with excitement. Nervousness too, a little bit. But your confidence isn’t so easy to rattle. You’ve picked out your choicest outfits for the trip, hellbent on making it memorable. You’ve even kept a few days extra in hand to allow you free time to travel the city. 
You had asked your sister if she’d wanted to come along, but she had said that her doctor hadn’t deemed it safe for her to travel by airplane now. “I’m so jealous! But there’s nothing to be done.” “Go with your husband and your baby afterwards.” You’d kissed her forehead when bidding the final goodbyes before leaving for Paris.
There was just one little worry worming through your brain. Not even a worry, just an irk. Jeon Wonwoo would also be there. You’d have to compete again for the spotlight. As if the jerk deserved to be there. 
“Ma’am, do you want to go through your speech once more?” Jisung asked you from the seat next to you. You smiled, the younger man was definitely nervous by the look on his face. “Why, are you scared I’ll forget? You know I take vitamins every day to strengthen my memory.” “I do, but-” “Don’t worry. Don’t let anxiety deter you from forming the memories of the fun times you’ll be enjoying there!”
Fun. 
As if. Jisung knew well enough that you rarely had time for fun, and consequently, neither did he. He saw you overwork yourself every day, staying at the office till late, obsessed with perfection, ensuring no loose ends were visible. Even if you tried your best to send him home when his work time ended, he wanted to stay back out of compassion for you. He was truly the best secretary you could’ve asked for. He was godsent- he’d learnt your habits and your thinking process within days, and soon he produced documents and answers before you asked for them, pre-empting your thoughts. After working with you for three years, he was good enough to be your clone- that’s why you sent him to many events and meetings as your representative if you couldn’t make it. You knew he’d handle it as well as you would, and report all the key details to you at the end of the day. 
“Yes, Ma’am. I hope it all passes well. We’ve all worked hard.”
“And hard work always pays off, you know that Jisung-ah. Now, sleep quickly so that we’re not tired due to jet lag once we land there.”
_
They’ve assigned Wonwoo a seat next to you at the conference table. As if seeing his face here wasn’t bad enough. 
“Will you never leave me alone?” 
He scoffs, “Me? You’ve been at my tail since you were a kid.”
“Oh shut up. Inside school, outside school, at parties, at funerals, at my graduation, at my sister’s wedding, you’re always fucking there. And now you’re here, to steal the spotlight. Not that you can anyway. Don’t try too hard Jeon, you’ll just look pathetic.”
“It’s funny how vain you are. You think I have any desire to steal your spotlight? Go ahead, be the talk of the party, by all means.”
“And I will! I don’t need your permission for it.”
“Hmm-”
The rest of his words get tuned out as the convenor of the conference begins their speech. You turn your eyes towards them, but you can feel Wonwoo’s eyes burning on you. 
“What did you say?” You whisper to him. 
“Never mind. Do you want to go out tonight?”
“Go out?” You turn your head towards him, leaning in, incredulous. 
“For dinner.” 
You almost burst out laughing. “And pray, why would I go with you?”
He scrunches his nose and pushes up his glasses. “You’re going to miss out on seeing the Eiffel Tower?”
“No. In fact, I have plans on going today myself. But you didn’t tell me why I’d-”
“Come with me.” He turns his face away from you, his expression cold and unreadable. 
“Hell nah. We don’t know each other, okay? Just because we’re both newcomers here does not mean we have to maintain solidarity or any of that shit.”
“You’ll regret it, sweetie.”
“I regret nothing.”
“We’ll see.”
_
“Jisung-ah! You were scared for nothing. That presentation was flawless.”
“Yes Ma’am. I know our team always works hard, but the nerves never stop,” the young man looks much fresher after the conference wraps up for the day, his tie undone slightly. You can easily understand how his mood changes reflect in his facial expressions and attitude after the long hours you spend with each other on a daily basis. 
“Are you still up for going to the Eiffel Tower tonight? I’m planning on skipping the post-conference dinner. But if you want to stay, I won’t force you to come with me.” 
“No Ma’am, I was thinking…” he hesitates, but you raise your eyebrows to urge him to continue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to visit the Eiffel Tower again, so I do want to go with you … but after that I’d like to go to one of the clubs in the nightlife zones? I’ve heard from friends that the Paris nightlife is crazy.”
“Ooh!” You pat him on the back, “Yes please Jisung, finally you’ve started to act your age. Go, be young and wild, I’ll cheer for you!”
“You won’t come along?”
“Oh no. I’m way too old for that. Plus I never was into the club scene. And for real, you should go out and enjoy without me sometimes. People will start thinking I’m your girlfriend.”
Jisung opens his mouth to say something, but ends up just smiling shyly. “Okay Ma’am. Then should we leave for the Eiffel at 7 pm?”
“Yes. Pick me up from my suite then.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
_
“Sorry Ma’am, the Eiffel Tower has been booked out for the evening. It’s been a really sudden booking, and we’re sorry for the inconvenience, but it’s just been booked out completely by a private party and no external visitors are allowed.”
You’re wearing your best white silk Gucci dress, the one you spent your entire salary on as soon as it was released at last year’s Fashion week, and a stunning Cartier necklace, ready to spend the best evening of your life atop the Eiffel Tower, savouring life at its finest… but no. Some jerk just had to book it for this evening. 
You slide up to the lady at the front desk, whose bored expression does nothing to calm your nerves down. Jisung has tried his level best to convince her, but it’s failed. So you try the one thing you know always works. 
“Ruth-” you see her name from her name tag pinned on her chest. “I can outbid the private party.” 
“I’m sorry Ma’am, I didn’t get you.”
You laugh, a careful measured laugh, to hide your irritation at having to say it again. “I said, I can pay you more than whatever the private party’s booked it at. I just want ten minutes. Isn’t it a win-win situation for all of us? Ten minutes for me, and your private client can enjoy it for the rest of the night.”
Ruth smiles, pitifully. Wretched woman, she’s clearly not affected by your offer. This is what seeing too many rich people in a day does to a person, it immunes them to bribe, you think. Well, it’s her loss. 
“I’m sorry Ma’am, but we really cannot accept your offer. It’s against our rules-” 
“Let me speak to your manager, Ruth. Trust me, when they hear my name, they’ll let me in,” you smile again, attempting to remain amicable instead of bursting out into the wildest Korean slang.
Ruth smiles again, “You are, currently, speaking to the Manager here, Ma’am. We simply cannot allow any external visitors tonight. Can we book a slot for you tomorrow? If you’d like to visit again, in the morning or later.”
Jisung tries to interject, but he sounds resigned. He seems intimidated by Ruth, and frankly speaking, you get it. He’s just twenty four and spends over thirteen hours in a day with you, so he’s not used to snarky women. Well, apart from you, and you’re never snarky to him.
“Ruth, my dear. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m here at the Paris Conclave.” You say your name solemnly, expecting it to have the same effect it has in Korea, but alas, the woman remains untouched as ever. “I’m dreadfully sorry Ma’am- wait, did you say Y/N Y/L/N?” Your smile becomes wider. Oh so it does have the intended effect. “So you finally will let me in, huh? You do know who I am.” 
Suddenly Ruth’s demeanour changes and she’s smiling pleasantly. “Oh Ma’am, the private client has specially informed us to allow you in. Only you.” “I’m sorry, what? Why would they suddenly ask for me-” “Mr. Jeon told us that you would be here. I’m so sorry for the miscommunication, Ms. Y/L/N-”
“Mr. Jeon?!” You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you bitch. Aloud you say, “Mr. Wonwoo Jeon?” “Yes Ma’am. He’s booked the entire place for the evening. He has been waiting for you too,” Ruth smiles graciously, doing nothing to relieve your confusion. “There has been a mistake. I don’t think he meant me. We’ll leave now-” “Ma’am, I’m sure there’s no confusion now. Mr. Jeon asked us to bring you up as soon as you arrived. We’re sorry to keep you standing here on your date night.” “Date night? This is ridiculous. Wonwoo and I are not-” Jisung whispers into your ears right at moment, noticing your bloodshot wide eyes, “Ma’am, I think there’s no point fighting with them on this,” he says in Korean. “This lady seems adamant, and you shouldn’t miss out on an opportunity to visit the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit up so prettily. Even if it is with Mr. Jeon,” you wince at his suggestion, and he smiles apologetically. He’s right, you realise. 
“Okay, but Jisung comes with me.”
“I’m sorry Ma’am.” Oh I’ve had enough of your sorries. “No one except you are to be allowed up.” 
“Wow. First you say no external visitors. Now suddenly I’m allowed and Jisung is not-”
“Ms. Y/L/N, these are simply instructions from my client.” 
Jisung bites his lip and says, “Well I guess it’s not written in my fate then. Ma’am, don’t miss out on my account. Please enjoy. I’ll just go downtown and waste the night away. I’ll see you tomorrow then? Please make sure to eat dinner!” You’re seconds away from whining and pulling another tantrum, but Jisung whispers fighting to you in his soft indulgent tone that he uses on you whenever you’re being a brat and he needs to take care of you. And then he’s gone, and you have no option but to face Ruth. That bloody woman. “Welcome to the Eiffel Tower, Ma’am. Please accompany me as we take you to the top.”
_
At the top, Jeon Wonwoo stands with a glass of champagne in his left hand and his mobile phone in his right. 
“If you’re going to work on your phone and not enjoy the view, why the fuck did you book this place out?”
You walk towards the man standing in the open air viewing area, and he smiles at you. The annoyingly handsome smile, where his eyes crinkle up, and his perfectly white teeth are revealed in a rare display. 
“You came. I knew you’d come.”
“How so?” A server appears from nowhere and offers you champagne too, which you accept. You’ll soon switch to whisky though, to calm your nerves down. 
“You’re easily predictable. You act like any other average tourist, although you pretend to be such a princess.” 
“Everyone comes to visit Eiffel Tower on their first day in Paris, Wonwoo, there’s nothing weird about this-”
“Exactly. Average. Me? I personally prefer to see it from the window of my hotel, so that I can see it in its glory without experiencing this slight dizziness and bling of the night view.”
“You’re stupid. That’s why you have such stupid preferences. This night view? Priceless.” 
“Let me inform you, darling, it cost me a hell lot to book this. So not priceless.”
You laugh, looking at Wonwoo, who’s leaning against the railing facing you, and then back at the gorgeous night view. The Champs Elysees looks glorious with the lights. You can sense Wonwoo leaning in closer. His cologne and perfume mix to create a dark, musky smell that’s new. You’ve never smelled this on him before. “Why did you book it? That’s what I've been asking since forever.” 
“I want to fuck you against this railing.” 
You choke on the champagne, before catching your breath and turning back to face him. 
“What?”
“You heard me the first time.” He maintains eye contact, but in that cold, nonchalant way of his, like he didn’t just propose the most scandalous thing you’ve ever heard. 
“Aren’t there cameras?”
“Will pay for them to be turned off.”
“That’s probably illegal.”
“I don’t care. I’ll pay enough. Plus, I’ve already located the blind spots.”
You take a deep breath. As ashamed as you are to admit this, it does turn you on. A lot. If Wonwoo would touch you under your dress, he’d find evidence of the same. Sex like this- in public, definitely the most outrageous thing you’ve done. But Wonwoo suggesting it? The fact that he booked this place out on a probability that you’d come and a hope that you’d agree to it? The more you think about it, the hotter your body feels. You can feel your nipples straining against your dress in the cold air, and your face turning red with imagination. 
“If you don’t want it, we can just eat dinner and leave.” Wonwoo’s eyes have become impossibly  gentler but also darker, like he’s seconds away from losing his control. His sight betrays his words as he keeps looking at your lips. Thank god I applied the lip plumper tonight, you think. But then his eyes go to your breasts, like the pervert he is, and he smirks at the sight of the two nubs pressing hard against the soft silk. 
You shake your head.
“Say it.”
“I want it too.”
“Atta girl,” his smirk widens, before he leans in to capture your lips. It’s a rough kiss, nothing romantic like one would expect atop the Eiffel Tower, but it sets the right mood for the night. You realise that all servers have disappeared, and you’re perfectly alone, as his lips move down towards your neck, leaving beautiful hickeys along the way. “It was torture and heaven waiting for you. Knowing you’d come, but fearing you wouldn’t.” His hands take away your champagne glasses and place them on a table nearby, before bending you backwards on the railing, making your head zoom more with pleasure. What if I fall off? What if someone catches us like this? What if he takes a picture of me like this in front of the view, with my tits out and my lipstick ruined?
“No bra, huh? You’re so sexy in this dress, I want to fuck you in it. You mind that?” You’re panting as he keeps kissing you in between his words, tongue dominating yours right away. It’s like a switch flipped inside you. Just minutes ago, you were so against sharing the Eiffel Tower view with Wonwoo, and now you’re letting him fuck you here. It drives you crazy.
“Wonwoo just- I don’t care, I need you now.” He bites all over your shoulder, slipping down the straps to grope your breasts in the rough-handed manner you like, sure to leave bruises with the way he kneads them while leaving open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone.
“Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean you forget your bedroom manners.” He bites down on your nipple, surely missing his favourite clamps back home, and you squirm in his iron grip. 
“Sir please!” 
“That’s better, sweetheart. But what do you want?”
“C-Co-” he alternates his bites with little kitten licks, looking up at you. “Articulation, baby. Speak up.” “Want your cock, in my m- mouth, Sir!” He pulls away from you, leaving the cold air to tease your bruised nipples, and laughs. Fucking laughs, but it turns you on again. “If you insist.”
He takes off his belt and ties your hands behind your back, and then pushes your shoulder down and you fall to your knees, and he stands back, tall. “Oh, what a pretty sight,” he sighs, taking in the night sky view, and then looks down at you, but makes no move to open his pants. You assume you’ll have to take care of it yourself, so you attempt to open the zipper with your teeth. It’s not particularly difficult, but in the process you get some drool over Wonwoo’s cock over his pants. “Tch. Dirty girl, drooling everywhere,” he wipes away the drool from the edge of your lips, before you slot your mouth against his erection, now free from his underwear and pants which have slid down his legs. It’s not as hard as it gets during sex, but that’s what you’re here for. Nothing but a slut for him to use. Your ankles burn against your heels in this position, but it’s okay. You’re losing your mind as you swallow his sheath inch-by-inch, until you feel his skin against your nose, and you stay like that for a second, easing out your gag reflex. But before you can move, Wonwoo thrusts deep into your throat, eyes not leaving yours. It makes you roll your eyes, the pleasure of the surprise way more than the pain, and makes you crave for more. He slowly wraps his hands around your head, a strong broad support for you to rest in, and continues to ram his dick inside your mouth. Your body becomes limp as you slowly surrender to his actions, your mind blank, except a crazy wanton desire to please him and make him cum. You’re too sex-crazed right now to reason out why only Wonwoo elicits this reaction from you. 
But then his dick gets rock hard, and right when its weight becomes the best and warmest around your throat, wet with saliva and pre-cum, he pulls out. You can’t frame words instantly, but you whine. “Ah, Wo- I- pl- co- please…” He laughs cockily at your state, and you blush with shame at the way you’re acting. “Get up,” he walks away from you, leaving you to your own devices to stand up in those heels. 
It strikes you yet again, just how open this all is. Anyone can walk in. The security guard may be jerking off watching this on the security cameras, and you won’t lie, it’s hot as fuck. The thought of Wonwoo and your activities being porn for someone else- oh fuck. 
Wonwoo sits on a couch meant for visitors on the balcony. “Come baby,” he beckons, and you sit on his lap. His cock is still hard, leaking pre-cum, and you’re tempted to lick it off, but you won’t make a move until he tells you to. You can’t disobey him now- if he spanks you in punishment, you won’t be able to walk to the conference tomorrow.
“Spit on it.” And you do. Wonwoo likes your spit, for some reason, and you wordlessly obey. Then he pulls out something from his pocket, and you realise- “No Sir! Please, not the paddle today!” It’s a folded paddle, the pocket-friendly one you can buy at cheap sex stores. “I need to walk tomorrow, I can’t if you spank me-” “But you’ve been so naughty. Begging for my cock in a public place like the little slut you are. Not accepting my invitation to come up here and making me wait for so long. Turning my offer for dinner down at the conference this morning,” You try to protest, but he simply inserts his thumb into your mouth, and you instinctively start sucking on it. “Now be pretty, and let Sir show you your place.” While you’re still distractedly sucking the thumb, you don’t even realise when he’s lifted the back of your dress and the paddle hits the ass flesh exposed by your thong. “Count.” “One,” you whimper out, not wanting his thumb to slip out of your mouth. The spanks continue, alternating on ass. He can alternate between asses and keep the same pressure just by one hand, the other holding up your dress, his hands big enough to cover your entire ass cheek. The spanks burn more after the moment’s relief due to the cold air, and by the time you reach twenty, your knees have given up, and you’re drooling on Wonwoo’s shoulder. 
“Don’t make a mess. Sit up straight.” As you do so, he asks you, putting away the paddle and tucking your hair behind your ears. “Have you learnt how to behave? Or do you need another reminder?” You fervently shake your head, but he whispers in his insanely sexy tone, “Words.” It makes you shiver, and you respond, “Yes Sir. I’ll not misbehave, Sir.” He smirks, and leans back. “Now ride me like you mean your words, darling.” 
You don’t need another command. You sit down on his dick quickly, ready to take the burn without any prep, because you’re already leaking down your thighs. He grips your hips with one hand, steadying you, and cards his other hand through your hair. As you begin bouncing down on him, he shudders and releases low grunts, but nothing breaks his composure. He never once whispers Good Girl, as you cum once, but you still keep riding him to ensure he reaches his climax. Somewhere after your orgasm, he starts thrusting up from below to meet your efforts, and it brings him closer to his orgasm as he scrunches his nose and closes his eyes. When he does spurt inside you, he whispers softly enough that you almost miss it, “Fucking gorgeous.” 
That’s enough praise for the night, you think to yourself, as you fall limply against his chest, nearly passed out from the strain, his cock still spasming inside of you. He soothes your hair, and you fall asleep.
_
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Please wake up! We’re running late. Ma’am? Ms. Y/L/N?” You open your eyes blearily to see Jisung shaking you lightly. Slowly you come to your senses, and you can hear his voice louder, and see the desperation in his face clearly. 
Fuck. 
What have you done?
“How late am I?” 
“Not too bad, Ma’am,” Jisung scrunches his nose as he looks at the clock on your bedside table. “We have twenty minutes to go.” 
“Fuck!” You scramble out of bed, not even bothering to check if you’re clothed, and make your way to the washroom. There’s a pain growing in your head, and it’s only when you see yourself in the mirror that you realise that you’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts. What even happened last night? The last thing you remember, as you try to recollect while quickly brushing your teeth, washing your hair and hopping into the shower all at the same time, is that you had passed out on Wonwoo’s shoulder. Then the world had gone blank. Fucked into oblivion, truly. He must have brought you into your room. Oh fucking hell, he owed you at least that much.
By the time you wrapped your bathing suit around you and walked back into your bedroom, Jisung was gone, but your outfit and shoes were laid out on the bed and there was a note, I’ll pack some breakfast for you, Ma’am. Please come down directly to the conference hall. Thank god for Jisung, that was one prayer you said everyday. He’d been partying too last night, hadn’t he? And yet, he had responsibly made it on time and woken you up as well. You were getting too irresponsible, too lax. Your discipline was gone and you mentally bashed yourself for it. All because of that stupid Wonwoo.
After that, it doesn’t take much time for you to get dressed. Jisung must’ve noticed the hickeys on your neck, and brought you a jacket with lapels and a collar high enough to hide most of the marks. You quickly tied a scarf around your neck, making it look fashionable by adding colour to the otherwise beige monotone outfit, and praised yourself mentally for looking this good even without makeup. Dabbing on some lip balm in the elevator, you quickly reached the conference hall, finding yourself a minute late. Again, thank god for Jisung, the boy had reserved your seat, made excuses on your behalf and kept a croissant and coffee ready at your seat, so that everyone greeted you with kind smiles. 
Except Wonwoo, who had that unreadable expression again. 
Must be pathetic, living like him. What worth was a face like that if it couldn’t express anything?
_
Four days later, you land in Incheon amidst the wildest of storms the country has faced in the year. You won’t admit it, but you’re glad you travelled in your private jet, where you can close all windows down and wrap yourself up in a blanket burrito to drown out all signs of the storm. You wish storms didn’t exist, and you wish no one would have to see you in this weak state. Not Wonwoo for sure. 
After that first day in Paris, the two of you had barely interacted. Primarily, you were too ashamed to speak to him. How could you smile and talk normally to someone after getting railed by them on the Eiffel Tower, especially when that same someone was annoying as fuck in reality? Sure, eye contact had been made several times, over dinners, over the conference tables, when you’d been on the stage presenting, and when running into each other in the corridor. But words? You possibly couldn’t. It��d be too much for the fragile self-respect you’d been holding on to. 
You really want to avoid him once you’re back in Seoul as well. The workload seems to have tripled in the few days you were away, with endless tiny emergencies and approvals pending to be resolved. You’re again thankful for Jisung, but there’s only so much the poor boy can do. You make it a point to send him home soon after his scheduled timing every day, but you can’t say the same for yourself. 
It’s the fifth night of you eating ramen from a cup noodles pack and sipping on apple juice from a 1 litre tetra pack, that you finally give up on the abstention. It’s a hard decision, but somehow, your overworked brain and sleep-deprived body leads you to one craving, and one craving only. 
Thirty minutes later, Jeon Wonwoo arrives at your office. He’s been to your office only rarely, as you both prefer to meet up outside professional areas, but in the darkness of the empty office, he can easily recognise your brightly-lit room. He’s dressed in formals too, as if he’s just got off work himself, and you think he may be in the same boat as you. But definitely not as much as you- you’re a perfectionist who looks over everything yourself, Wonwoo doesn’t even come close for sure. 
“It’s one of those nights, huh?”
He gently opens the door and walks in. Everything about him seems to be delicate today: perhaps it’s because his shirt is damp from the rain he’s surely walked in, his hair is wet and falling over his eyes, and his tie is gone. His jacket is soon gone too, dropped off on the couch, and he takes off his shoes. They’re leaving slightly muddy footprints, and you wonder if Wonwoo even drove and came or just ran like a peasant. 
“How’s work treating you?”
“Stop wolfing down that ramen, it’s not healthy. Not as bad as you, as I see. I finished up hours ago,” his eyes don’t meet yours, and you know it’s a lie. It’s one of the signs of lying, as you’ve picked up over the years. Wonwoo rarely breaks eye contact while speaking, always honest, and his lie is really odd to you right now. Why would he lie to you about this?
“I was wondering, if…” you stand up from your desk, taking in the figure of the man sitting on your couch now, manspreading and head leaning back. He’s tired, why did he lie about getting off early?
“Come here, princess.” 
That’s all it takes, and you sit on his lap and wait for his lips to meet yours. He indulges you in your wish, and immediately the tension in your body eases out. Along with the stress of work, you’d been even more worried that he’d bring up your last night together, and you’d get too ashamed to remain turned on. But he doesn’t, and you’re glad. You let your lips be bitten by him, but then he soothes over the burns with his tongue. He tastes like candy, and you tell him the same. 
“Hmm, low sugar.” 
Then he picks you up and gently walks over to your desk, holding you in the same bridal pose without even a muscle flinching. With one hand, he clears the laptop sitting atop your desk to the coffee table, and swipes the rest of the clutter on the floor. It would’ve made you angry otherwise, but you’re already entering subzone with the way he’s handling you. Lips still locked on yours, holding you in that pose with just one hand as you hold on to his shoulders for dear life, it’s a crazy show of strength and you’re getting incredibly turned on by it. You let yourself go, giving it up to this person, who seems to be so reliable, so strong, so manly. 
As he lays you down on the desk, he takes off your trousers and underwear in one go, and sits down on the chair you usually sit on. 
“You’re so wet, so dirty. Did you touch yourself after texting me to come over?” Your pussy is at his eye level, and you’re looking down at him, his eyes menacing and beautiful at the same time. His question makes you squirm, as you reply, “Of course not.” Then there’s a slap across your cunt, and you whine. “Manners?” “Of course not, Sir.” “Liar,” he smirks, and dives headfirst into your cunt. 
It’s a treat he rarely gives you. Only when he’s very happy with you- like after you’ve taken thirty spanks, or you’ve eaten dinner with him while having a vibrator stuffed up your cunt, or you’ve let him wash you in the shower (for some reason, Wonwoo likes that a lot. He ties you up to these poles he’s attached in his bathroom, and plays with your body by applying as much oil and soap he wants, making sure not to touch your pussy for hours, denying every release to you even as it builds up just from the oversensitivity of having your nipples and ass played with). 
You wonder why he’s so happy. 
But you can’t care enough, now that his tongue is working so hard against your clit. The sensation makes you lose all rational thought, as you lean back against the desk, mind empty, and just moaning his name. You remember the first few times he’d fucked you with your mouth gagged, but then he’d told you he likes your sounds way too much, so you’d stopped controlling them too. He gets what he wants. After all, only he can fuck you so well. 
“Wonwoo, please-” He moves his head up, licking his lips which are glistening with your slick. “How do you address me baby?” “S-sorry! Sir, please I-” “Hmm?” He leans back in, humming against your clit. His tongue now moves to your hole, nose brushing against your clit. “Can I come? Like this? May I? Please?” When he moves away again for breath, he removes his hands from your thighs, and you see the red marks he’s left there just by how tight he was gripping them. It’s a wild sight, and your climax hits you right then, coming before he could answer. “So impatient, coming all over my face even when I’ve told you not to come without my permission.” But even his scolding sounds gentle tonight, softly chiding rather than his usual harsh coldness. In your post-orgasm clarity, you wonder again what’s gotten into him. 
He licks away your cum, and it makes you burn with overstimulation. “Uhhhhh, please-please Sir!” “Stay still.” His hands are back at your thighs, spreading them apart, and he seems hellbent on getting another orgasm from you. Your screams are louder this time, and you’re growing even more desperate to get something bigger to fill you up. You wrap your hands in his hair, and tug unconsciously while he keeps licking at your pussy. His entire face is hazy with your slick, thank god he’d taken off his glasses earlier, but he doesn’t care. He keeps diving in. 
“Sir, please, I’m going- uhhhh,” he pulls away instantly and smacks your cunt hard. “No coming until I allow you to. Let Sir have his treat.” “Please Sir I’ll be so good, I promise, I- please let me, just this once.” Another smack, and you’re screaming. Thank heavens the office is empty. 
“Do you not understand my words? Should I retrain you?”
“No! I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.” 
“Hmm, you better be,” and this time he doesn’t just lick your pussy, but also starts entering two fingers alongside his tongue, hitting your g-spot almost instantly. You’re whining yet again, losing your breath, but everytime you’re about to come, he pulls away. You can’t figure out how he realises, but soon two hours pass by, and you’re still being edged. Your legs are shaking, and you can’t think straight. You just want more of his fingers, you want his cock, inside your mouth, your cunt, hell, you just want to orgasm once. 
“Girl, stop moving. You’re so filthy, dripping like this. What would your boytoy think if he saw you like this? Should I call him to clean this mess on your desk?” He’s curling his finger inside you, and it’s really hard forming words when you’re seeing stars like this. 
“Sir, I-” “What’s his name? Jieun?” “Ji- Jisung. Aaah, please-” “Look at you begging. So pathetic. No wonder your secretary is so pathetic. He really likes you, you know?” Your eyes go wide, trying to register his words. “Why- why are you- how do you–” “Hush. I want to know, is he jerking off to you now? Thinking of how slutty you looked in those grey trousers, how perfect your ass looked? Bet you show off in front of him on purpose.” You’re squirming harder, not wanting to think about Jisung right now. “But- but daddy, I on- only want you!”
He laughs, then he leans in to whisper into your ear, “Daddy? That’s a first. Say it again.” 
“Daddy, please! I only want your cock.” 
“Really? So demanding, like a wife. But you’re just a slut. You’d do this to Jisung as well, won’t you?” “No! I swear- please. Daddy, just, it’s just you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, I swear!” You nod feverishly, the sensation building up inside you again.
“Okay baby girl. Come for me. Come for daddy. Then I’ll take you home and fuck you good. This desk is too small.” You don’t need to be told twice. You gush all over his hands and some of your come ends up on your desk and his pants too, but he only chuckles. Licking off the come on his hands, he smiles. “You taste like sugar, sweetheart.”
_
The sheets you wake up in smell overwhelmingly like Wonwoo. The man is nowhere to be seen, but the blankets next to you are shuffled and the pillow has a dent, and you remember being caved by his warmth at night when the storm had hit Seoul again and you’d woken up for a second before falling asleep to the steady rise and fall of the chest wrapped around you. 
You wake up slowly, adjusting your eyes to the sunlight. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in Wonwoo’s bedroom, but this is the first time you’ve slept over. Usually you leave, no matter how late it is. But it feels good. It feels oddly intimate. 
Your legs burn when you walk, but you try to look for your clothes. 
Your shirt is ripped again. 
You strut out of the room after wearing your panties and bra, which is barely holding on to one hook remaining, and find the man standing in the open kitchen, wearing a tank top and sweatpants. He’s drinking coffee, and a book is in his hands. 
“Wonwoo, you’ve torn my clothes again. How am I supposed to go home like this?”
He turns to face you, smiling and fixing his glasses, and standing up. He looks so good in the warmth of the sunlight falling on his golden skin. “You’re up.”
“Do you think I can keep buying new clothes?”
“Yes. Now, calm down. Do you-”
“Wonwoo!” 
“For god’s sake, I can’t take your shit this early in the morning. You want to fight, please do. Not now. It’s too early. You just always find something up your ass and have to pick on me for nothing, huh?”
His smile has faded, and the warmth in your body seeps away. About time, though. You don’t want to start feeling safe in Wonwoo’s private space. It’s too intimate- waking up in his bed, seeing him walk around in sweatpants, drinking coffee he’s making for you. It’s too much.
“This has to stop, Wonwoo.”
“Okay, fine! I’ll not rip your shirts. Take my card and buy something-”
“This arrangement has to stop.”
He turns away from the coffee machine for a second, and stares at you. You walk towards him, and he looks even better up close. His tank top shows off his arms, and they look soft yet really firm. You want to touch-
“Why? Have I made you uncomfortable?”
“No, it’s not-”
“Do you want to date someone? You can, you know. I don’t care-”
“Wonwoo-”
“Did I hurt you? Was I too much last night?” he steps closer to you, furrowing his eyebrows in evident confusion, and you suddenly can’t breathe. His expression is very much readable and it only reads as one emotion- concern.
“Wonwoo, please.” You take a step back, hugging yourself with your arms. 
“Does it hurt? I am sorry if it does-” 
“It’s not your fault. It’s a me thing, I swear.”
His eyes become clouded by even more confusion, and you quietly walk away and sit down on the kitchen counter. 
“This is becoming too much for me. I- I got into this arrangement thinking that it would be a good way to vent stress. But it’s toxic now- I can’t think of any other way to deal with stress except this. Don’t you notice how our meetings have become more frequent now, especially initiated from my end? In the last three months, I’ve initiated sex fifteen times, and you’ve only six times. You see? This has become my only solution now.” 
Wonwoo doesn’t look at you, but he keeps wincing at your words as if he’s being hit physically. Then he responds, when you’re done, “That does sound like  a you problem, like why-” 
You slide off the counter with a huff, muttering Fucking jerk under your breath, but he catches your wrist before you can walk further away. 
“Don’t touch me if you’re going to react like that. I fucking knew it, why did I even talk to you? I can just walk away, I didn’t even need to expose my weaknesses to you.” 
He yanks you closer using your wrist. “This isn’t a war, Y/N. I don’t get off on knowing about your weaknesses, for fuck’s sake. Can you stop being paranoid?”
You sigh. You know you’re always paranoid around him- funny, because he’s seen you in more compromising positions than anyone else. If he wanted to blackmail you, or hurt you, by hitting your weaknesses, he would, you realise. Is that why you’ve learnt to feel so safe around him? 
“I’m sorry I reacted like that, Y/N. Talk to me, let’s work this out together. Let’s set up a system to slow our meetings down if you like?” 
You bite your lip, and look up at him. “How?” 
“Umm, how about you start to find other sources for it? Like hanging out with friends? Developing hobbies?” 
You huff again, twisting your hand out of his grip. “Wonwoo, if I had other sources, would I not use them?” 
“Darl-”
“Don’t call me that! We’re not having sex right now.”
“Y/N. Take your time to find other sources, then. If I’m your only means of relieving stress, it is extremely toxic. You’ll become dependent on me, and-” his pupils shake, looking away from you, “you’ll find it tough to date and all. Been there. Done that. That’s why I can tell you this.”
You’re about to reply something, when your phone rings out in a shrill tone. Surprisingly, Wonwoo’s phone rings out at the same time too. 
You jog into the bedroom to find your phone and pick it up. It’s your sister. 
“Y/N-ie! You’re not at home?”
“No. Why? Are you coming over?” 
“No, I just made Kyungmin drive us to your place to see your place is empty. Where are you?”
“Never mind where I am. Why did you come over?” 
“Mum and Dad want us to have lunch with the Jeons,” you can hear her giggle. But you’re stunned. “With the Jeons? Now? Today? For what joy? Are we buying their company?” She giggles again, leaving you more frustrated. “You’ll find out. I’ll send you an address then, come over directly!” And she promptly ends the call, leaving you blank and confused. Your phone pings- there’s the address of a restaurant, and a message asking you to be there within an hour. You realise only now how late you’ve woken up, and you’re glad it’s a Sunday.
“Why am I eating lunch with your parents?” Wonwoo walks into the bedroom, that confused look on his face again. “I could literally ask you the same damn thing. What’s going on?” “Does it look like I’ve got a single clue, babe?” He smirks at your cluelessness, and walks into his ensuite bathroom, leaving you speechless. Did he just call me babe? You wonder, but then your mind flits back to the issue at hand. 
“Wonwoo!” You scream at him from outside the bathroom. You’re sure he can hear you, so you don’t wait for a reply. “Yah! What am I supposed to wear? You’ve torn my clothes, you fucker!” Your stress levels are rising again. You’re going to have to go back home to wear something appropriate. You realise that you haven’t even brought your car. You’ll have to ask Wonwoo to drive you back. But fuck, what if your sister is still at your place?  Then she’ll see you both coming together, and undoubtedly she’ll prod and poke you. Then you won’t be able to have the upper hand at lunch when Wonwoo signs his company over to you. But there’s no other option as well. Well, there is- you can always stop at a boutique or a shop to buy something and wear it on the go. But that’d mean you’d have to go out in this hideously ripped blouse of yours. Oh!
“Wonwoo! You dumbass! I hate you! What have you done now? Why are we going for this lunch? For god’s sake.”
“Stop screaming, woman.” The door suddenly opens, and a half-naked Wonwoo steps out, engulfed in the steam from what was definitely a very hot shower. You have to stop yourself from moaning out at the sight. It reminds you of the three times you’ve showered together, and you can’t help but think back to the vivid memories of those sessions. 
“How can I stop screaming? I don’t even know what’s going on. You knew about this, didn’t you? Why are you so calm?” Wonwoo takes another step towards you, and he runs his hands along your arms. You shiver under his touch, realising you’re still wearing just your underwear. “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal, you’ve dealt with more serious issues. It’s just lunch.” “But it’s lunch with your family. I don’t even know why.” He presses a hand along your cheek, and you’re feeling even more conscious and nervous. Why? This is really unusual, because Wonwoo is right. You’ve been in worse emergencies. Why is this getting on your nerves? Probably because your periods are due this week. These are just your hormones. 
“Just enjoy the food. You’re anyway good at ignoring me in public places, and you can do the same to my family too.” 
You bite your lip, and shake your head. “I need fresh clothes.” 
“Yeah okay. Get into the shower and clean yourself up. I’ll ask my secretary to send something over.” “What? How-” “I think she’s the same dimensions as you.” “Oh.” You step away from him, swallowing whatever words you had to say. “I’ll go into the shower then.”
_
Thirty-five minutes and a very nice warm shower later, you’re standing in the bedroom and there’s a very pretty black dress on the bed. There’s also a new pair of lingerie next to it, complete with red roses sewn into black lace. Wow, that’s what Wonwoo asked his secretary to buy, huh. He definitely knows her dimensions very well. And the clothes fit, almost perfectly as if tailor-made. The dress is of unknown brand but the feel of the satin on your skin feels nice enough for you to forget about its origin. 
“Done?” Wonwoo steps into the room. “Jeez, can you knock? Scared me.” You’re applying Wonwoo’s sunscreen (frankly shocked to see him owning it, but then, his skin is pretty nice). You’ve also applied the same perfume as his, and combed your hair in a million different ways, to make up for the lack of make-up or your usual products. 
“Knock when I’ve seen you naked in this very room a hundred times? No thanks. Let’s go, we’re late.” 
“Hmm,” you slip your feet into your shoes and pick up your bag. “I’m ready.” So is Wonwoo, you notice, who’s dressed in a grey sweater and jeans. The softness of his clothes contrast the sharpness of his features, and it… looks nice. 
It takes you two twenty minutes to reach the restaurant, the ride passed in silence as you catch up on work mails from your phone. 
“I’ll go first, and you come ten minutes later, okay?” “Yeah. And Y/N, don’t tell them you were with me, okay?” “Of course not. I’m not a dumb nut like you.” And you shut the door of the car with unnecessary force as you walk out of the car. You swear you can hear Wonwoo curse behind you, but you give no fucks. 
“Oh! Y/N-ie! Welcome!” You walk straight into the arms of your mother, who’s dressed in a gaudy dress that does not suit her figure. “Eomma! How many times have I asked you not to wear these dresses?” “Oh shush! I bought this last weekend. Don’t tell me it looks bad, I’m in a good mood now.” You grimace and walk towards the table where your sister, her husband, and your father are waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear. Mr and Mrs Jeon, and Wonwoo’s younger brother are sitting on the other side of the table, also smiling from ear to ear. The excessive smiles are disturbing you, you’ve positively never seen Mrs. Jeon smile that wide.
“Oh, you look so good! Did you lose weight, Y/N-ie?” Mrs Jeon beckons you to sit next to her, and she takes your hand in hers. You force a smile on your face, still clueless about what’s going on. You can only hope they start talking about it when Wonwoo comes. 
Speaking of the devil, he does come way earlier than you asked him too. You’re suddenly nervous, as the families start smiling again. “Aigoo, our handsome boy is here. Sit here, sit here.” Your sister welcomes him and he sits wedged between her and his mother.
“Eomma, what’s going on?” he asks.
“Aah, straight to the point. Forget about that, tell us, did you both come together?” You spill out the drink from your mouth, almost choking. “Us? Together? Hahaha. No, of course not! Why would you think that Mrs Jeon? Hahaha.” “Hmm…” your sister exchanges looks with your mother and Mrs Jeon, before finally giving you that stupidly bright smile again. “Is there something you both want to tell us? We’ll give you a chance before-” Wonwoo interrupts, “Appa, what’s this nonsense? Just tell us without this suspense.”
Mr Jeon, who’d quietly been busy on his phone for so long, looks up and stares a little blankly. His wife nudges him, and then he seems to remember. “Oh, so, Wonwoo. You know you both can tell us what you want.” Your father pipes in, “Yes, same goes for you, Y/N.” Wonwoo and you exchange confused looks before you speak up, “Okay, but really. What’s this suspense for?”
“We know you’re dating.” Your sister blurts out, and there’s a sudden silence at the table. 
You think your eyes may burst out from the shock, and the way in which your palms instantly become sweaty is a dead giveaway of your nervousness. “What?! Unnie, are you out of your mind? What the fuck?” 
“Language, Y/n-ah.” Your mother says, “You think we don’t know what you both are doing, huh?” And then she giggles. The damn audacity.
“I think there’s some grave misunderstanding, Mrs Y/L/N. Y/N and I are… certainly, not dating.” Wonwoo’s mother grasps his hand across the table, and says, “Oh my son. My dutiful son. You don’t have to pretend about this. Just because Jeon Estates is rivals with Y/N’s company, doesn’t mean you both have to be secretive about dating!” There’s a little cough from both fathers, and Kyungmin and Wonbin, Wonwoo’s brother, burst out laughing. 
“Eomma, we’re not hiding anything. It’s a fact, we aren’t-”
“Explain these then. Booking out Eiffel Tower for a dinner date, huh?”
“Eomma, how do you know? Are you spying on me?”
“No! Of course not! We just looked at your credit card bill, accidentally. Then I spoke to Bora, your secretary, and she confirmed that you’d been spending a lot of time with Y/N. Not only that, there’s more-”
“Yes, indeed. Y/N-ie, why didn’t you ever tell us?”
You gasp, feeling lightheaded. “Did Jisung…? That trai-”
“Not Jisung. Jisung wouldn’t open his mouth. So I spoke to your chauffeur. He tells me he regularly picks you up from Wonwoo’s place?”
That’s it. This is it. It doesn’t get worse than this. This is your end. Oh, earth, swallow me up.
“Darling,” Mrs Jeon rubs your back, “Please don’t feel so shy. We know that our husbands haven’t left a great friendship for you two heirs. But you need not worry about all this rivalry.”
Your sister joins, “Yes. I’ve convinced Appa, and our lovely Aunt Jiwoo has convinced Mr Jeon too. Oh you both are so silly, hiding a precious thing like this from us.”
Wonwoo and you glare at each other. You realise there’s no point in explaining things to these people sitting in front of you. If they’ve reached the point where your sister is calling Wonwoo’s mother as aunt, then they must have discussed this extensively before calling you two to this lunch. An ambush, that’s what this is, you think in despair. 
“So what we’re saying is, instead of keeping it hidden like this, why don’t the two of you get married? Wonwoo-ah? You’re turning thirty next year, aren’t you? I want to see my grandchildren too,” Mrs Jeon says, and everything falls in place. This is blackmail. Your mother’s been asking you to get married ever since you took over the company, claiming that having a man at your side would help your life be perfect and free of any troubles, and even forcing you on some arranged dates. Wonwoo must be going through the same kind of thing, with him being three years older to you also. It fixes the nail in the coffin, and you stand up from your seat.
“That’s not happening. Mrs Jeon, Mr Jeon, Wonbin-ah, I’m sorry if this disappoints you, and the same goes for my family too. Wonwoo and I are grown adults. What we do is none of your business.”
“But if you are dating, what’s the issue with getting married? And from what I hear, it’s not even a recent fling. All this has been going on for a year now!” Your mother cries out loudly. Although you’re sitting in a secluded corner, the restaurant isn’t quite empty. 
“We’re not… dating. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you all along.”
“Well, then are you guys enemies having movie sleepovers?” your sister adds, and it’s too annoying. “And why did you come over in Wonwoo’s car?” How the fuck? But then you realise, nothing is beyond these women. They may be keeping tabs on your and his car GPS for all you know. 
Wonwoo stands up, looming over your figure. “That’s quite enough. Like Y/N said, what we do is not your business. Thank you for your concern, and enjoy your meal. Eomma, since you’ve taken access to my credit card already, might as well use it to treat yourselves with this meal.” He steps out of the chair, and walks over to where you’re standing. He swiftly grabs your wrist, and pulls you away, “Let’s go. This is a waste of time.” And just like that, the two of you walk away.  
_
Six days later, a wedding invite stands ready in front of you, held out in Jisung’s pale hands. “Does it look good, Ma’am? I’ll send it for printing then.” 
You sigh, and nod your yes.
_
a/n: see you in the next part!!!!
893 notes · View notes
louloulemons-posts · 11 months
Text
Missing You
Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader
Summary : Eddie misses his favourite girl.
Word count : 0.7k
Tumblr media
Warnings : Toothrotting fluff, Eddie being clingy, pet names, minor mention of sex, minor angst if you squint, a kiss, reader calls Eddie Edward lmao, fluff fluff fluff.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
“See you later Wayne,” Eddie shouted out to his uncle as he headed off to his night shift. He heard the older man speaking to his favourite girl as he went.
“Hey Wayne,” said her sweet voice.
“Hiya Sweetheart, you have a good night okay.”
“You too, don’t work too hard.” Wayne’s soft laugh echoed through lightly and he heard the front door shut again.
Sliding her shoes off and putting her bag down on the couch, she called out for her boy, “Eddie.”
“In here baby.” Soon enough his bedroom door was pushed open and there stood his love.
“Hey pretty girl,” he smiled softly, she was slightly disheveled, hairs sticking out wildly, but still so beautiful. “Whatcha working on?” she motioned to the guitar on his lap. “Just trying to figure out this piece, but it doesn’t matter, come to me.”
He placed the red guitar on the bed next to him, and held out his hands to her. Walking into his space he rested his head on her stomach, wrapping his arms around.
“How was work?” he mumbled.
“Same old, Saturday shift so busy,” she smiled, running her hands through his curls. “Missed you,” he spoke gently.
“You okay?”
“Can’t I miss you?”
“No you can, just wondering. Let me get changed and we can cuddle okay?”
He whined as she pulled herself from his hold. “The sooner I get changed the sooner you can have me back,” instantly he let her go, so fast that she stumbled slightly. “Jesus babe,” she laughed.
Taking her clothes out of her designated draw, Y/N spoke, “What do you want to do tonight? Steve and Robs are heading to the movies after work, we could join them?”
“I thought we could stay here, hang out.”
Popping her head through the shirt she cocked her brow, “Okay what’s up with you?”
“Nothing!”
“Edward,” she sighed, walking back over to him, now in sweats and an old tee, “baby what’s up?”
Taking his face in her hand she met his beautiful chocolate eyes, like a baby cow she’d tease. “I just miss you.”
“Eddie I’m right here. We see each other nearly every day. At school, we hang after school, I come here.”
“But it’s never just us anymore! It’s us and other people : Dustin, Gareth, Robin, Wayne, god damn babe, even Steve Harrington,” he exclaimed, flailing his hands dramatically.
“Are you trying to tell me you’re horny?” and asked, softly rubbing her thumbs on his cheeks, “Babe we can fix that.”
“No! It’s not that, I mean I love doing that, but I just want you .. just us, to spend time together. I miss you,” he closed his eyes, embarrassed by the outburst.
Gently she sat down on his lap, legs wrapping round his waist, pulling his head to rest in her neck. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“What? Eddie no! You have nothing to be sorry for. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than lay in bed and cuddle with you.”
“Really?” he asked, coming out of her neck to look at her face. Nodding, smiling slightly, “Really, I love spending time with you Eds, you’re my favourite person. Honestly I’ve been missing you too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I feel like with work, and school and friends. We’ve been seeing each other but we’re not really SEEING each other, you know?” she explained.
“Exactly! I just miss us.”
“Hey, you listen to me Edward Munson, we are still us, we just need to be us in private rather than with other people. I have an idea,” she said, as he gently played with the hem of her shirt. “Hm?”
“I’m gonna go call Robs, get her to cover for me, then I’m gonna call my mom and tell her I’m with Robin.”
“Why would you do that?” he asked as she stood up from his lap. “Because we are having a sleepover, and tomorrow we’re gonna hang out all day, and you’ll be so sick of me!” she grinned, kissing his cheek.
Turning around to run to the phone, she was pulled back by Eddie who stood up. Taking her face in his hands he kissed her softly, “I love you so much my sweet girl.”
“I love you Eddie Munson. Now put your guitar away, I’m you to be ready for cuddles when I’m back.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Thank you so much for reading, feel free to leave any requests 🤍
1K notes · View notes
allieebobo · 6 months
Note
Do you have any if recommendation?
Ooh! I have really, really bad memory(!!) but these are current faves that I have played/replayed recently that I can think of. A lot of the authors are also THE BEST HUMAN BEINGS EVER. So, double recommendation.
I probably missed a bunch out, so take this as a non-exhaustive list! In no particular order:
(Edit: Added some descriptions but yeah I got a little unhinged so I'm sorry nothing makes sense or if the quality of the write-up went down over time/did not actually give you any useful info)
WIPs with demos
Citadel, @bouncyballcitadel (I think of all the IFs on this list, this one makes me sweat the most. And I've said it once and I'll say it again: the dialogue is so snappy and well-written, and characters are SO DAMNED LOVEABLE.)
Infamous, @infamous-if (I've been manifesting Band/Musician IFs for the longest time, and then this popped up! I've even played Choice of a Rockstar, that's how desperate I was... Anyway, this is legions better than that. Angsty ex routes are my kryptonite, and Seven is just. Inevitable.)
Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian, @defiledheartsblog (I went into this wanting something juicy and fun/historical—and it's all of those things, but I didn't expect it to be so damned funny, too. The ROs are all impeccable.)
Raiders of the Caravan and Apartment 3-3, @leftski-if (A'ight listen, fantasy slice-of-life is my fave genre, and these are IT. Like, everything I never knew I needed in my life, and SO cozy/wholesome, with a cast of characters that I want to befriend in real life.)
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: An Affair of the Heart @doriana-gray-games (First off, the customization in this game is INSANE, and the branching too. I've replayed a couple of times and the little variations I discover each time just blows my mind. Secondly, it's so funny and written so well. Ngl I'm not a Sherlock fan but that's just testament to how amazing this IF is.)
When Life Gives You Lemons, @when-life-gives-you-lemonssss (Modern slice-of-life with an adorable kid, a bunch of hot ROs, CC. Hill's humor, what can I say?)
Golden @milaswriting (Really interesting world-building, one of the coolest fictional cities I've read in an IF, AND I'm obsessed with the ROs, in particular K de la Renta. Also Mila is such an awesome writer, I'm beyond excited for @beyondthegame.)
A Tale of Crowns @ataleofcrowns (This game is beautiful, polished, and SO exciting. Honestly, it looks like the kind of game created by a whole-ass game studio and would cost $50 to buy, it's that good. I really got swept up by this IF—probably played it all in one go.)
Rougi @rougi-if (Again, another game with scrumptious visuals/UI and also is just so well-crafted. I love the premise too, it's so original and fresh.)
Scout: An Apocalypse Story @anya-dev (Unfortunately this one might be on hiatus but I am/was really, really obsessed.)
Wayfarer @idrellegames (Love the game mechanics of this one, and the visuals. Probably controversial, but I like the D&D / random dice effect. And I also like the fact that it feels like an old-school RPG.)
Chop shop @losergames (The premise is all I needed to be sold, really—I'd always wanted to buy GTA as a kid but my parents were like NO WAY. Anyway, this IF did not disappoint, and let me live all my childhood dreams.)
Edit: AHH! How could I forget, one of my recent faves, Folksaga @folksaga-if (Lush atmospheric writing, super unique premise—norse mythology, plus I'm head over heels for Katla).
Completed IFs
Butterfly Soup 1 and 2 @brianna-lei (these are completed and I will never not promote them. Honestly the most adorable, wholesome, funny sports/coming-of-age IF I've read)
Elsinore: After Hamlet @lapinlunairegames (Insanely cool premise, insanely cool execution)
The Thick Table Tavern @manonamora-if (I love bar/tavern games, and this one actually lets you mix drinks! Instant fave.)
Other HGs/COGs I love: Slammed, Tin Star, Fallen Hero, If it pleases the court, A Player's Heart (these last two are so underrated, though I guess cause it's mainly wlw)
737 notes · View notes
natailiatulls07 · 7 months
Text
The golden trio Pt 4
Tumblr media
Lando Norris x female!reader
Carlos Sainz x female!reader
Max Verstappen & Female!reader & Charles Leclerc
Summary - Being bestfriends with two famous formula one drivers is never easy, but what will happen when you get involved with yet another formula one driver??
Warnings - talks of hate, slight talks of sex, swearing
The golden trio
-
Going Purple podcast
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Text (Orange: Lando) (White: Max F)
Hey mate, can I ask for some advice??
Yo what’s up? You haven’t been jailed for doing something dangerous whilst drunk have you?? 🫣
No not this time lol. So me and Y/n slept together the other night whilst we were drunk and then the next morning she asked me if I remembered…
Oh god no, please tell me you didn’t say what I think you said 😟
I said that I don’t remember and then quickly shut it down. But now I think she feels like she meaningless towards me
Mate you fucked up big time
Ik, her face was so disappointed and upset I could tell immediately even though she tried to hide it 😣
Look Lando, I don’t know how to help you with that one honestly
Yeah I guessed that, it’s fine I’ll figure it out. Just needed to get it off my chest for now though
Good luck mate 👍🏻
yourusername
Tumblr media
Wishing on a shooting star for you
Liked by heidiberger_ and 39,036 others
username Who’s ‘you’??
= username Lando maybe, they’ve been getting a bit close
= username Maybe 🤔
username I love that dress 😍
maxverstappen1 Photo creds??
= yourusername 📸📸 by maxverstappen1
username Beautiful girlie
username So are we going to ignore hers and Landos thing rn or what???
charles_leclerc
Tumblr media
Since Y/n decided to expose me and Max, we decided to expose her. So here you go, you stitched yourself up Bee 😂
Liked by yourusername and 52,843 others
username The first picture 🥹
username Is that high school golden trio??
= username I think it is, they look so young ☺️
yourusername I was expecting this lol
= charles_leclerc Just wait until you see Max’s post 🫢
= maxverstappen1 Hehehe 😏
username Y/n with her pink eye mask is the cutest thing ever!!
maxverstappen1
Tumblr media
Part two of pay back expose Y/n!!
Liked by charles_leclerc and 56,367 others
username That vanity is the definition of girl messy and it’s just amazing!!
username I love the whole dynamic of this trio 🤩
yourusername When did you take a photo of my vanity??
= maxverstappen1 When you went out to the club with yourfriendsusername 😂
= charles_leclerc how does it get so messy? Like wtf
username I’ve just realised that Y/n is actually very relatable ngl
Twitter
username Guys so I ran into Y/n L/n today and she is like the sweetest person ever 🥹
username No way, I feel so bad that she had to go through all that hate whilst being so sweet and kind 😕
username So I was chatting to her and I asked her about her friendship with Max and Charles and she said “Me, Maxy and Charlie are like siblings. Sometimes they’re like protective older brothers or then annoying little brothers”
username That’s so cute!!
username I know right!! Anyways I asked about her and Lando and she was like “To be honest with you, I don’t know what’s going on there so yeah”
username Oh Noooo!! My ship!! 😔
username She looked so devastated and defeated when she said it though, that’s what got me 🥺
username I hope it works out, they’re the cutest ship EVER 😭
-
Tag list: @eviethetheatrefreak @janeholt3 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @namelesssav @amalialeclerc
564 notes · View notes
hugshughes · 7 months
Text
mirrorball M. Estapa
Tumblr media
Mark Estapa x fem!reader
synopsis - You realize Mark Estapa is the one person you don't have to perform for.
wc - 4.8k (#proud)
contains - cursing, slight miscommunication, upset reader, frustrated reader, fluff asf, kissing, cuddling. as always lmk!
an - LIGHTLY EDITED!!! sorry if there's any mistakes! THIS ONE WAS FUNNNNNN. i love mark so much so this was cute. it does take a long time to get to the point though so.. sorry! this song is also everything to me so yeah! oh also, betty love interest has been determined!!!! connor bedard is like honestly the perfect guy for it i feel like, cause he's young and stuff. and JH86 already has illicit affairs sooooo don't be mad at me! i hope you LOVE this! as always reblogs and replies are very much appreciated!
-
i want you to know, i'm a mirrorball. i'll show you every version of yourself tonight.
You'd always been somewhat of a people pleaser. Your happiness had almost always stemmed from whether or not the people around you were happy. It started when you were little, because of how your parents would praise you when you'd take care of your 3 little siblings for them.
Your parents were always working, trying to make enough so that your family could live comfortably, but it had you parenting your siblings for all of your childhood. All of your nurturing at home caused you to do that to everyone you cared about. Always being called the "mom of the friend group." You would do anything you could for people around you to be happy with you, no matter if it meant you were miserable or not.
Now that you were in college, you felt weird not having someone depend on you every second like you do back at home. You had a lot of friends in school now, and lots of people liked that you would never say no to them, taking advantage of your kindness.
You'd met Ethan Edwards in a business class freshman year and he immediately took you in and brought you everywhere. He thought you were cool and fun and one of the few girls he could be friends with that didn't make it weird because of his "status" on the campus. He'd brought you to a hockey house party sophomore year and it's where you met Mark Estapa.
i'll get you out on the floor, shimmering beautiful. and when i break, it's in a million pieces.
Mark had been enthralled by you when you met. Your caring nature and kindness absolutely melted him. He watched you be the designated driver everywhere you went, take care of all of your girlfriends when they got plastered, and in his opinion, let them walk all over you. See, he loved your caring nature, to an extent. He loved how sweet you are, but he hated how other people took such an advantage of it. Once he'd even told your friend to fuck off when he'd seen her trying to make you feel bad for something that was completely on her.
hush, when no one is around my dear. you'll find me on my tallest tiptoes, spinnin' in my, highest heels, love. shinin' just for you.
While Mark loved how nurturing you were, he loved even more when you weren't so tense, and taking care of everyone, and you were just carefree. The first time he'd ever seen you like this was in February of your sophomore year, six months after he met you. You guys were at a party, that was really a "hangout" but while you guys drank, where none of those friends of yours had been invited. He'd never seen you that happy.
You were sitting right by him on the couch, your Ugg slippers on the rug in front of you while you tucked your legs into your chest, a drink in your hand. You were laughing and making jokes, not having to stress over whether your "friends" were about to get drugged because they would just grab drinks from anyone offering.
You'd always admired Mark. Since the night you met him, you just loved everything he did. How gentle he was even though his hockey stats would say otherwise. You loved how he always seemed to have a smile on his face, and how much he cared for you. He was one of the first people ever who cared for you the way you cared for everyone else.
hush, i know they said the end is near. but i'm still on my tallest tiptoes, spinnin' in my highest heels, love. shinin' just for you.
You had been in love with him since June. Your friend group had gotten together in the summer and spent a weekend on a lake in Michigan, near where Mark's parents lived. One night his parents had invited your group to his childhood home to have dinner and when you'd seen his interactions with his parents, you were a puddle. He was the sweetest guy you'd ever met, but you were convinced you couldn't have him. And he thought the same things about you, sadly enough.
Unknowingly to you, Mark had fallen in complete love with you the same exact day. When he watched you help his mom out with dinner then again afterwards with dishes his heart pounded. Ethan was teasing him all night. Ethan had done everything but tell you guys that you liked the other to try to get you together, sending you two out on drives to get something for a party, making you two a team during every game on the PlayStation, encouraging you guys to enroll in the same classes for junior year, and more.
You hadn't seen Mark all summer after the trip in late June, you'd texted a lot though. He'd even called you a couple of times, which always made you scared because no one had ever just called you to talk to you like he did.
No matter how much Ethan pressured you to tell Mark how you felt, you were always too scared. You'd only ever had two boyfriends before, and they were not good guys, so you didn't really know what it felt like when a guy really loved you.
It was two weeks into the school year and you still hadn't seen Ethan or Mark yet. You were lying in your bed with your eyes closed after class when your phone rang, you jumped, grabbing your phone, seeing 'Mark Estapa🤍" at the top of your screen. You tensed for a second, sliding your finger across your screen to answer and hitting the speaker button.
"Hello?"
Mark smiled when he heard your voice, blush dusting the tips of his ears.
"Hey! What's up? Do you have plans for tonight?"
"No, should I? Is there an Alpha Phi party Ethe didn't tell me about?"
You sat up in your bed, rubbing your eyes and flattening your hair.
"No, no party. I wanted to ask if you maybe want to go get dinner or something, maybe we could go walk around target or something."
You blushed at his proposal, you knew it was just a hangout, but dinner with Mark was like, all you ever wanted. You accepted gently, not trying to sound desperate to see him.
"Okay, great. Can I come pick you up in like 20?"
You accepted again, quickly saying goodbye and texting Mark your new address so you could get ready. You'd just moved off campus and into an apartment for your junior year. It was 50° and felt like 45° in Ann Arbor, perfect fall weather, so you made sure to wear warm clothes.
You slipped on your Ugg slippers right when Mark knocked on your door. You opened the door with a big smile, Mark's face adorned by his usual grin.
"Hi Mark, oh my gosh I haven't seen you in forever!"
You were gonna use that as your excuse to hug him. He greeted you sweetly, squeezing you tightly. When you both pulled away from each other you admired his face, his rosy cheeks from the cold weather, how comfy and warm he looked in his big Wolverine Hockey sweatshirt, everything.
You guys exited your apartment building silently, when you got to Mark's car he went up ahead of you and opened the door for you. You looked up at him and smiled sweetly.
"My hero."
He nodded and laughed, making sure you were securely in the car before closing your door, running around the front of the car to get in. You turned on your seat warmer while he buckled up, he looked over at you and smiled again, and you raised your eyebrows at him, silently asking him 'what??' he just laughed and shook his head.
You plugged your phone into the car so you could play music, Mark didn't fight you over it, he never did. He loved watching you lip-sync to the music you loved, even though you didn't think he saw you. He smiled as he glanced over to you while stopped at a red light, the red illuminating your face as you sang silently along with Bad Habit by Steve Lacy. He thought the song choice was funny because he literally did wish you knew he wanted you.
This was the you that he loved, the girl who wasn't constantly stressed over people who didn't deserve even half a second of her attention. He snapped out of his trance on you when the light on your face turned green. He drove to your guys' favorite place to eat fast.
You were quickly texting your mom back when you pulled up to the restaurant. Mark hopped out of the car with haste and got around the car before you could get your seatbelt off, opening your door for you, holding out a hand so you could balance.
Your cheeks warmed as you accepted his hand, letting him help pull you out of his warm car, and into the cold of Ann Arbor. You both ran across the parking lot to get away from the cold, Mark running around you once you'd crossed the street so he could open the door for you. He was the sweetest guy you'd ever met. You guys greeted the staff that knew you two well as the "friends" that come in every week together.
Your favorite waitress brought you to your usual booth, taking your drink orders then taking off. Said waitress was the same woman that always would tell you and Mark that you guys were perfect for each other when one of you was in the bathroom and the other was left at the table. You and Mark had both sat on the same side of the booth always, you guys just liked it better that way, and it was always both of yours' side when you came with other people.
Taylor Swift was playing lowly through the restaurant while you guys pretended to look through the menus, acting like you didn't get the same thing every time.
After you guys ordered, you started talking about summer, and what you guys had done since June 27th, when you'd seen each other last. You told Mark how you spent July with your family and then August with your friends in Miami.
i want you to know, i'm a mirrorball. i'll can change everything, about me to fit in.
"-but you know partying is never that fun with that group of girls because I always am the DD and they all always get absolutely blackout plastered and none of them are good drunks and it just-"
"You know I hate when you do that?"
You halted, staring at him with furrowed eyebrows. You were shocked, did you make Mark upset? You didn't think you'd said anything bad. You couldn't even get a 'what?' in before Mark started again.
"When you let those girls walk all over you. You don't deserve to go out with them just to take care of them while they do whatever they want all night. It just makes me like sad to see you literally hate every time you go out with them. You don't always have to take care of everyone. You can let people do things for you, and let people do things for themselves, okay? You can do something for yourself for once."
you are not like the regulars. the masquerade revelers. drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten.
You were stunned. You'd never had anyone care about you like that before, you'd always felt like you had to let everyone depend on you since you were so little. You'd never had a Mark before. Someone who'd let you be you, someone who wouldn't let you go out of your way and hurt yourself to make sure other people are happy.
You didn't know what to say, you hugged him, though. You hugged him tighter than you ever had. And he held you so gently as if you would break. You didn't even know you were tearing up until your vision clouded over.
"Thank you, Mark. I just- I've been taking care of everyone around me since I can even remember. My little brothers and sister were always my responsibility when I was little and it just stuck and now I feel bad if I don't do anything I can to make the people I love happy. But thank you, um wow yeah thank you, Mark."
You both pulled away, he nodded with a straight face. You quickly wiped under your eyes and turned back to the table, you didn't know what to do now.
"Sorry if I just like, made that awkward, but I just really care about you and I don't like when you're with those girls 'cause they don't make you happy."
I love you. I love you. I love you.
That's what Mark wishes he could say.
hush, when no one is around my dear. you'll find me on my tallest tiptoes, spinnin' in my, highest heels, love. shinin' just for you.
"You didn't, it's not awkward Mark."
You giggled and shook your head at him, asking him how his summer went in turn. He went on about all his plans and it just mesmerized you. The way he talked was everything to you, how excited he got over little things, how enthusiastic he was about almost everything. You loved how bright he was while also being able to understand you and be serious.
You guys got your food and ate while talking about more random things. Mark got up and went to the bathroom right after you both finished, while you sat and waited on him and the check. Mark walked back from the bathroom minutes later and when he got to the booth he held out his hand to help you out of it.
"Mark the check didn't come yet. We can't leave."
He smile got bigger, you could already tell what he was about to say.
"Well I just paid so I think we're fine."
You rolled your eyes at him, lightly pushing him after you accepted his help out of the booth, telling him you’re paying him back somehow. When you got into the car you checked the time, 8:13 p.m. Target closed at 10, so you decided to drive over to it and check it out.
hush, i know they said the end is near. but i'm still on my tallest tiptoes, spinnin' in my highest heels, love. shinin' just for you.
You played more music in the car, and at every red light Mark would watch you sing along silently, and whenever you were driving, you'd glance over at Mark, admiring the slope of his nose and his sharp jawline. He was beautiful, to say the least, but staring at him while Ceyando by Frank Ocean played in the background was breathtaking.
You guys stopped at a red light, and then Mark's eyes met yours. You quickly looked away, staring straight ahead at the road in front of you guys. If the red light wasn't shining down on you guys, Mark would've seen the way you blushed. You were everything to him, everything.
and they called off the circus, burned the disco down. when they sent home the horses, and the rodeo clowns. i'm still on that tightrope. i'm still trying everything, to get you laughin' at me.
When you got to Target, Mark opened your door like always. You guys rush inside to fight the cold weather, giggling like little kids. Before you guys start looking around, Mark goes to the bathroom, claiming how he didn't actually get to go at the restaurant.
While he was away, you ordered Starbucks for the two of you, happy that you were partially repaying him for dinner. You waited outside the bathrooms with two hot chocolates in your hand and a big smile on your face. Mark as always, argues with you when you hand him the drink. You ignore him and grab a cart.
You push the cart through the store, both of your cups taking space in the cupholders on the cart. You both throw in random things you need for your homes, from paper towels to shampoo to Gatorade. You gasp with excitement when you see the books and music section, your favorite part of the whole store. You abandon the cart with Mark, running over to the vinyl.
Now that you had your own apartment, you could finally bring your record player from home and have room with it.
"When was the last time you listened to something on vinyl?"
Mark teased you but admired you also as you scoured the shelves of vinyl, gasping at every Taylor Swift or Harry Styles album.
"Well actually Estapa, my new apartment has enough room for my record player now so I listened to one like two days ago!"
He nodded with an amused look, letting out an 'Oh yeah?' to which to nodded aggressively.
Mark saw the way your movements halted when your eyes landed on one vinyl that was at the very back of the stack. Mark recognized it to be a Taylor Swift album, because you had played it in his car before, but he wasn't exactly sure what it was called.
"Oh my god. This is the Folklore Deluxe album, the red pressing. This is so weird, I left this at home for my little sister to have before school started. I haven't seen this album in Target in like over a year."
Mark nodded along with your words, a big smile on his face as he watched how excited you were.
"Oh my gosh I need to play this for you. Okay, on the way home we're listening to the whole thing okay?"
"Yeah, alright, we'll listen to it."
You squealed, giggling as you slid the vinyl into the cart. Mark pushed the cart behind you as you looked through the books, grabbing two that had been on your 'tbr' list for a while.
Mark let his thoughts wander into delusion as he pushed the cart behind you. He thought about grocery shopping with you like you were married. He shocked himself with that thought, quickly shaking it from his head. He hadn't even told you he liked you yet.
You two went to the self-checkouts, splitting your items up and paying. Mark pushed the cart behind you as you exited Target, while you jogged to the car, the cold air seeping into your jacket. You jumped up and down slightly as Mark took as long as possible to get to the car.
You guys quickly loaded the bags into his trunk, and you insisted on pushing the cart back to the cart corral. When you walked back to the car, a crazy thought appeared in your mind. You thought about being married to Mark and loading your shared groceries into your shared car. Lord, you hadn't even told him you liked him yet.
You got back to the car to see your door open and waiting for you. When you got in, the heater in your seat and pushing through the vents enveloped you. Mark smiled, holding up the aux cord for you. You grinned back, snatching it from him and pulling up Spotify, clicking on folklore (deluxe version).
"Okay so, the album starts with 'the 1', and it's about like thinking about your ex that you thought was your soulmate and wishing they were just a little different so that it could've worked out."
"Oh okay, I think you've played this one before."
You nodded as the song faded in, letting him listen to the song. Mark especially loved when you played Taylor Swift, because you always lip sync the "hardest" to her. 'my tears ricochet' faded out when you pulled up to your apartment.
"Oh my gosh, Mark you have to come in and let me play the rest for you. Please? You're gonna love it I promise. Oh, and we can make those cookies we picked out!"
Mark didn't even have to think for two seconds before agreeing, not that he could ever say no to you. The idea of spending the rest of the night with you sounded like heaven. You had Mark park in a visitor spot and you both got out of the car, grabbing your bags from the back. Mark insisted on carrying 4/5 of your bags, even when you argued with him. You led him up and into your apartment. You both took your shoes off by your door, dropping your bags on the kitchen counter.
and i'm still a believer, but i don't know why. i've never been a natural, all i do is try, try, try.
"Sorry it's a little disorganized, I'm still in the rearranging everything stage."
Mark walked in and immediately loved the vibe of your apartment. It was so warm and it smelled good and just was so you.
"I think it looks great, don't worry."
You blushed at that, feeling all giddy over a boy liking the way you had your apartment decorated. You started to put away your perishable groceries but then noticed Mark standing awkwardly on the other side of your kitchen.
"Oh sorry Mark, please make yourself at home!"
He smiled and nodded, walking around the counter over to you, asking if you needed any help with groceries. You asked him to preheat the oven, and he immediately agreed. You then heard a confused call of your name.
"Your oven is like a fuckin' spaceship. How do you work this?"
You laughed so loud, Mark loved it. You walked over from where you were putting the Halloween-themed cookie dough on a baking sheet and stood between Mark and your oven. You preheat the oven successfully before turning around to make a snarky comment but then realized your proximity. Both of your faces warmed before Mark backed away, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile.
It was a little awkward for a beat before you remembered what you invited him in for.
"Oh my gosh, come over here, look at my record player area! It's my favorite place I have decorated so far."
You grabbed your new vinyl off the counter, sliding on your socks over to where you had your record player set up in your living room. You carefully took the wrap off of your new record, grabbing the first vinyl out and gently placing it on your player. You moved the needle to where track 6 started and turned it on, letting the needle drop onto the vinyl.
"This one is my favorite on folklore, it's about like being a people pleaser but also having someone who you don't have to be like that for."
You avoided looking right at Mark when you said it because you realized that's exactly how you felt about him. He was one of the only people that you didn't have to perform for, the one person who preferred when you didn't. What you didn't know was that Mark was smiling so big when you said what the song was about, thinking of you and himself.
You turned up the volume, walking back over to your kitchen to slide the cookies into the oven when the oven beeped, signaling it was finished preheating. You turned and saw Mark standing at your counter, staring right back at you.
"Hmm, oh! You've never been here before, let me give you the tour."
You turned up the record player once again, so you could hear it throughout your space, and led Mark over to the hallway that led to everything else in your apartment.
"So obviously my kitchen and living room, there's a coat closet, but it's pretty much empty still so whatever."
You showed him the bathroom, another closet, laundry room, and then finally you got to your bedroom.
"Okay this is my bedroom, I'm actually like just finishing up with my decorating in here, sorry if it's a little messy."
Mark thought your room looked spotless and beautiful. Everything just screamed you so he loved it. Your salt lamp dimly illuminated your room from your nightstand, the song dancing through the air of your room. Mark looked all around your room before stopping when he saw your photo wall.
There were dozens of photos, Polaroids and printed pictures, photo booth strips, and other mementos from various occasions taped on the wall.
When you saw Mark halted at your wall, you hoped he didn't realize how much of him there was on it. Every picture of you and Mark in existence was printed out and taped to your wall. The ticket stub from when he took you to The Little Mermaid in May. A cut-out drawing he doodled on your page during class once, he was surprisingly good at drawing hockey jerseys.
Mark noticed how often he came up on your wall, then there was one photo that made his eyes widen a little and his heart jump. It was a Polaroid of you and him at a party last year, your arm around his neck as you both smiled widely. That wasn't even the best part to him, the best part was that on the margin underneath the picture, there was just the date, a dash, and then a heart drawn.
He looked over at you and there was a different look in both of your guys' eyes. Some kind of understanding, but still a little bit of fear that your feelings were unrequited. You walked over to Mark, pointing at the photo he had been staring at.
"That's my favorite picture like, ever. That's why it's in the very middle of all of them."
Mark just stared at you, as you stared at the picture. He was so in love with you, it would probably physically hurt him if he held back telling you any longer.
"I think I'm in love with you."
Your eyes widened, head snapping in his direction. You blushed so deep red, that it even spread to your ears. You were stunned, you literally couldn't move your mouth, Mark had just told you exactly what you think every time you look at him. He was in love with you? You would jump up and down in victory, but your downstairs neighbors might not like that. Mark didn't take your silence well, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck as he blushed madly.
"Well no I know I am but like it's cool-"
You kissed him, you kissed him. You kissed Mark Estapa after he told you he was in love with you. What fucking universe is this? You kissed him as the bridge of seven played through your home. Your hands framed his face as his hands instinctively held your hips. Butterflies were all either of you felt, whole body tingling and excitement as you kissed each other.
When you pulled away, you were both out of breath, you stared at Mark, so incredibly flustered. Mark took in your rattled appearance and his confidence skyrocketed. He had just got the girl, he was on top of the world.
"So, does that mean like, you like me back or?"
You pushed at his chest, covering your warm face with your hands, hiding your embarrassment and big smile.
"Shut your mouth, but yes."
Mark grinned even wider than he already was, wrapping you up in a hug as august started playing. You both stood there for a minute, taking the moment in. You stood until the timer on the oven went off, indicating your cookies had finished. You pulled out of the hug, taking both of Mark's hands and leading him back to your kitchen, not before he could let out a funny comment.
"I really like this album by the way."
You let out an 'oh yeah?', giggling at his stupidity. You couldn't believe you'd finally gotten him. He was yours, and you could definitely tell that he was the 1.
because i'm a mirrorball. i'm a mirrorball, and i'll show you every version of yourself tonight.
745 notes · View notes
sweatervest-obsessed · 7 months
Text
Quand Tu Voudras
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
WC: ~7.2k
TW: kissing, angst, blood, burns, cuts, bruises, arguments, crying, depression, mention of EDs, panicking, explosions, drinking, self-image issues, mentions of addiction, mentions of drug use, mentions of Maeve
A/N: Third and Final Part babyyyyyy let's GO. I'm actually excited to watch each part get its own vibes, but also be a cohesive story. I really hope you all enjoy it! Thank y'all for doing me on this crazy journey!
Dedicated to New Lovers , You're Keeping Me Down
Tumblr media
“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.” ~Orson Welles
It was the most beautiful you had ever looked. 
Shopping for a wedding dress was one of the most terrifying experiences you had ever lived through, and you had been shot multiple times. 
But being surrounded by your closest friends and family members as you tried on dress after dress kept you going. 
You finally found the perfect one in a small shop outside of the DC area, hidden in a little suburb where life wasn’t as rushed as it felt. 
You tried on only three dresses at this little boutique. The second was almost perfect, and you were about to “say yes to the dress,” but someone was reorganizing the front rack, and that’s when the one you were currently wearing appeared, sent by the higher powers. 
It fits you perfectly. 
You started to cry when you saw yourself in the mirror, which caused Garcia to start crying, which caused Emily and JJ to cry, and the rest of your family quickly followed. 
So it was only natural that staring at yourself in the mirror right now made you tear up again. 
“Oh, Babe, no.” Emily was quick to fan your eyes as you tilted your head back, letting the tears melt back into your eyes. 
“I can’t help it.” You grumbled, eyes wide as you tried calming your breathing slowly. “It’s just so pretty…” 
“I know, I know. My money is on Derek crying first.” 
“Oh, please. We all know Rossi won’t stop crying the second he takes his seat.”
You had decided that the only people you wanted at the ceremony were close friends and family. That meant the team, their little ones, and each of your parents. Small. Peaceful. Intimate.
Derek was over the moon when you asked him to officiate your wedding, wanting him to be there for you in every way since that’s always been his role. 
You had taken him out for coffee under the very real guise that wedding planning made you want to rip your head off and chuck it out to sea. 
“Okay, baby girl, talk to me.” 
The ice was melting in the cup from the warmth of your hands, making your hands wet with the condensation, hiding the sweat from your nerves. 
“Do you know how much flowers cost?” 
Derek chuckled and shook his head. “No. I don’t think I do.”
“The government doesn’t pay me enough for the amount of flowers I want at my reception.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have picked the Peabody Library as your reception location.”
“In my defense.” You furrowed your brows. “You were with us when we toured it. It’s perfect, Derek. Don’t tell me it’s not.” 
“No, it’s perfect; I just don’t understand why you need that many flowers.”
“Sometimes, I feel like you don’t even know me, Derek Morgan.” 
“He’s going to cry first.” Emily smiled, lightly dabbing under your eyes with some of your powder foundation to show that you weren’t almost crying. 
“I will buy you a whole bottle of Möet that Rossi will cry first.” 
As JJ entered the room, you and Emily shook hands, giggling like school girls. “Almost ready?” 
You nodded, glancing over at yourself in the mirror. 
Honestly, you had never thought this day would come. Your wedding day. After everything you had been through, all of the heartbreak, all of the confusion, all of the traveling and running away. Everything you could possibly think of going wrong just went wrong. Suddenly, the flowers weren’t delivered, and then no one showed up to the reception, and then you were left at the altar, abandoned and unloveable again. You couldn’t breathe; your chest was seizing. It was too tight. There wasn’t enough fresh air in the room. Your heartbeat was too loud, and you couldn’t look away from yourself in the mirror. This wasn’t real; Everything bad happening was in your head. 
Or maybe it was an awful dream, and you need to wake up before it gets too far and your heart gets shattered again. 
JJ whispered your name, reaching out for you, sending a shock of electricity through your arm when she touched it. 
You jumped. 
“I want to talk to him.” You blurted out, looking over at JJ. “I–I need to talk to him.” 
“You said yes.” 
You nodded, staring down at your wine glass, pondering if it was the right decision. Emily was wondering the same thing. 
“I don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to go back to—”
“It is.” You cut her off, not harshly, just firmly. “I haven’t been the same since I left the BAU, and I left for perfectly valid reasons, Em, I know. But….”
“But?” 
“But I miss it. Don’t you? It flexes my muscles in ways I couldn’t replicate, and I was so good at it. I felt smart and useful and not lost, wandering the islands of Greece.”
If you didn’t know her so well, Emily’s fake gasp could have easily been mistaken for a real one. “We had a fantastic time, and you know it.” 
“Yes, but I also know that I was feeling so unfulfilled intellectually that I went off and got a Ph.D. Like, come on, I never wanted a PhD before I left; I just didn’t know how to challenge myself.”
“That is fair. I just think you need to consider the fact that you’d be working with you know who.”
“You can say his name, Emily. He’s not some dark lord; he’s just an idiot with an IQ of 187.” 
“Yeah, Yeah, look. I have to go, but we are not done with this conversation, okay? I’ll need a full PowerPoint presentation with all the pros and the cons.” 
“Yes, ma’am, I can do that. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”
You heard the click of her line going dead before there was a knock on your door. You quickly pressed play on your movie, letting one of your favorite rom-coms (When Harry Met Sally) play in the background as you scrounged around for where you had left your wallet. 
Clad in an oversized shirt you’ve had forever, plaid pajama shorts that were once part of a Christmas set, and your comfiest fuzzy socks, you slid over to the door once you had found your wallet. 
You opened the door. “How much…”
His eyes met yours, and you took a small step back. 
“You are not the pizza guy.” 
“No. I’m not.” 
His answer caused you to laugh a little bit, filling his chest with a warmth he hadn’t felt in over two years. 
“Can I–” He gestured into your house, and you moved to the side, allowing him to enter. 
“I, um….” You bit your lip and eyed him up and down. “As long as you’re okay with When Harry Met Sally playing in the background.”
“Time for the annual rewatch.” He smiled at you nervously, but a very small part of yourself enjoyed the fact that he remembered. 
You headed back towards the couch, casually trying to clean up as you went to give the impression that you were cleaner than you were. 
“Shoes off before you get to the couch.” You called over your shoulder. 
The door closed behind Spencer with a soft click. 
“Honey, you said you don’t want a first look.”
“We don’t have to look at each other—I don’t know, like a corner or something. I just..I-I-I.” 
JJ watched as your panic started to bubble over, and she took your hands in hers. “Want to call him first?” 
You nodded. “Y-Yeah, let’s try that.” 
JJ handed you your phone off the vanity, watching as you dialed the number, panicking even more when it wouldn’t connect—there was no service. 
Spencer had asked you to play chess with him that night, and you obliged. Something about falling into an old routine felt good; it felt right. A movie you chose in the background while playing chess against Spencer. Some things were always meant to be. The night was filled with laughs, small talk, and contentment–life feeling like it should. 
A familiarity shrouded you both, mocking the comfort you once used to feel.
When you won, he was a bit baffled. You had only beaten him a few times, and he was focusing on all of the outcomes. How could he not notice—
“You can’t win every game, Spence.” 
His heart lodged in his throat at the nickname, and he looked up at you, that goofy half smile on his lips. 
Lovestruck. He looked lovestruck. 
And then you exhaled. “We can’t avoid it forever. I know that’s why you came here in the first place.” 
He blinked away the love, replacing it with guilt, hurt, fragments of something you both had grieved in your own time. 
“Y-yeah. Let’s um, let’s talk about…”
You redialled the number only to be met with the same beeping as before, eyes wide as you looked at JJ. “There’s no service. JJ, I can’t–he won’t…” 
Emily handed you her phone–it was ringing, thank god. 
“Hey Emily, is everything okay?” 
“It’s me.” You said simply, but the wobble in your voice said everything he needed to hear.
“oh–Honey, talk to me. What’s going on? What’s wrong?” 
“I-I…” You swallowed your tears and looked over at your two friends—you gestured slightly, silently asking them to leave the room so you could talk to your future husband alone. They obliged, letting the door close. It was nice of them to pretend like they weren’t running over to see if they could eavesdrop from his room, but they were just met with Derek in the hall, who had also been booted out. 
“Is she okay?” 
Emily shook her head. “No idea. She was fine one moment, and she was about to burst the next. Like a complete shift of personality.” 
Derek sighed. “I’ve never seen him switch so quickly either. He was all nervous one minute, but the second he heard her voice….he almost sounded like Hotch doing damage control.” 
JJ laughed slightly at that, glancing back at the door hiding you behind it. 
“Do you think she’ll go through with it?” Derek whispered slowly, making sure no one was around to hear him. 
Emily fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist. “She’s terrified he’s not going to.” 
“Look, Spence, I get it. Shit happens. But you don’t know what it was like, coming home one day and you were laughing with someone else. You hadn’t laughed for months, almost a year, before then.”
“I know. I’m so–”
“Say sorry one more fucking time. Sorry isn’t explaining…or talking to me. I know you have trouble expressing whatever bullshit is going on in your head, but you have to try. It’s me, for fucks sake, Spence, And while I am willing to wait, I can only be so patient for so long with no actual explanation—” 
“I was terrified of you.”
“What…” 
Spencer stood up, pacing back and forth in front of your coffee table, trying to find the right words. “You were so far gone when Em died, and you had sunk into this pit of despair, and I was scared of watching you push down this path, destructive and–and; I didn’t know who you were, and I was so scared to watch you go down this path so I turned away instead.” 
“Spencer, you ran to JJ. You just left me here, alone. And then, when she comes back, you fucking threaten the fact that you were having Dilaudid cravings?”
“I think he’s even more mortified that she will back out on him. He knows everything she’s gone through. I mean–I love her, but she’s got major commitment issues.” 
JJ slapped his arm and glared at him. “And for good reason, Derek.” 
Derek grumbled an ‘ow,’ rubbing at his arm. “I’m not saying it wasn’t justified–I completely side with her on it--I’m just pointing out what we already know.” 
Spencer closed his eyes. “I don’t love you anymore.” 
Your heart leaped into your throat, or maybe it was vomit, you weren’t sure, but all you could do was stare at him from across the kitchen countertop. 
“Since this was my place first, uh…I can give you a couple of weeks to find a place, and I’ll even sleep on the couch…”
You hadn’t even spoken yet, shaking your head. “Stop. Spencer. What.” 
Your head was pounding, hands gripping onto the counter to try and steady yourself.”
“Sorry.” He whispered. He couldn’t even look at you. He was just staring at his hands, almost unsure about what he was saying. 
“Sorry?” You laughed, tears starting to track down your cheeks. “Spencer, this has to be a sick fucking joke..” 
He shook his head. 
Behind the door, You were just pacing back and forth, listening to his voice, trying to erase this memory from your mind and find a new one to replace it, barely listening to the man on the other end of the line. 
“Hey, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. If you want to call the whole thing off, everyone will understand. If it’s not right—.” 
“No.” You responded immediately. “I–I, I want to do this, I want to marry you…just…”
“You just needed some reassurance. I know.”
You nodded, not realizing he couldn’t hear you nod, but somehow, it felt like he did. 
“I love you.” 
You smiled, exhaling shakily. “Good.” 
His laugh bubbled through his lips, causing you to take another breath.
“I’ll see you out there?” 
“Can you just stay on the phone for another minute or so? I just need, like—”
You could hear him nod over the phone. “Anything you want.”
Somehow, you were back in that fucking elevator. Again. 
But this time, it felt like a homecoming rather than a curse you were trying to break. 
When the doors opened, you saw your family leaving little presents on your desk—flowers, balloons, chocolate, even cupcakes from your favorite bakery. They were all so busy setting it up that they didn’t notice as you walked up behind them, peering over their shoulders. 
“Looks good, guys.” 
“You think—” Derek did a double take and clutched his chest. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.” 
You laughed and smiled at him, dropping your bag onto your chair. “It looks wonderful. You guys didn’t have to do anything for me–”
“Actually, we did. How could we not? I mean! She’s home! She’s back solving crimes in sexy-looking outfits!” Garcia wrapped her arm around your shoulders, resting her head on yours. 
“I love it, guys, thank you.” 
JJ briskly walked past you all, giving you a brief smile, almost running up the stairs and into Hotch’s office. 
“Well, looks like you’re getting thrown right back into it.” Derek sighed. 
Hotch came out of his office and smiled at you before nodding at the others. “Wheels up in forty, everyone. I’ll brief you all on the plane.” 
“Good.” 
“Just breathe y/n. Okay? I’ll be the one at the end of the altar with the incredibly well-tailored suit and those flowers you like so much pinned to my chest.”
“You’re gonna cry.” You whispered jokingly, taking in a deeper breath than before. “I look so good in this dress. I actually was crying about it before I made Emily call you.” 
“It’s like you’re trying to kill me.”
Derek knocked on your door, leaning his ear up against it, trying to hear what you were saying. He called out your name, and after about a minute, you told him it was unlocked. 
“Can I come in?”
“If you want Derek, it is entirely up to you.” 
He opened the door, tears welling up the second he saw you. 
Hearing him enter, you faced him, smiling softly at him. 
All Derek could do was take you in for a second, unable to really think of what he was about to tell you. This felt a bit ridiculous since he was there when you picked out the dress, but watching you now, ready to actually wear it for its intended purpose, was a whole different ball game. 
“You look…..”
“Right.” You whispered, walking over and squeezing his hand. “I’m ready. Let’s do this thing before shit goes south.”
______________________________________________________________
“Y/n, You are the love of my life, and I could give you an eternal list of every single moment of my life where I felt nothing but complete and utter adoration for you. But then last week, you picked the movie you thought we should watch: a nineties rom-com, obviously, with big romantic gestures and a heroine who doesn’t need to be tamed. And those two inspired me to give you instead a list of the ten things I hate about you.” 
Spencer had gotten a good look at you for the first time in a long time. He had already felt guilty about the fact that he had Maeve and that you had broken up. But what he had failed to realize was the same thing Derek had–You were someone entirely different, a ghost of yourself. The guilt was gnawing through his stomach when he told Hotch what was going on, and he had begged Hotch to let you sit out, trying to save you from this, but clearly, Spencer couldn’t do anything right for you anymore. He hadn’t been able to in a very long time. Hotch had cleared his throat while Spencer shook his head. “I-I tried Hotch, I really didn’t want…”
He just nodded at Spencer. “I know, Reid, but you must have known there was no way this conversation would go any better than that.” 
Reid just nodded and stood up, going out into the bullpen, not missing the way all of their eyes snapped to him as Penelope dumped her broken mug into the trash. 
Before anyone could say anything, Hotch walked out of his office and looked at everyone. “As you all could have guessed, Agent Y/L/N will not be joining us on this case. I expect everyone in the conference room in ten.” with that, Hotch walked past Reid and down the stairs toward where he had assumed you had run off to. 
Reid just returned to his desk, sitting and staring at your now empty desk. Hotch had fulfilled your request, letting you move across the bullpen so you didn’t have to sit next to him anymore. 
Some part of the thought that you couldn’t even look at him anymore caused his gut to lurch, causing his hearing to burst for a moment. Maybe this was too fucked up. Perhaps he had been wrong. He thought he was doing the right thing by letting you go, not weighing you down with all his own bullshit, but he realized he had failed to pay attention. 
Spencer thought long and hard, trying to piece together everything he had thought about in the past couple of months when it came to you, and that’s when he realized it was every day. He thought about you every day. 
But he had ignored you. He had failed to notice as you crumbled to nothing in front of him. 
“Number ten is that I hate the way you fold laundry. It’s incredible how you manage to fold every single item in a completely different manner. It baffles me. One of the great mysteries in this world that we might never have the answer to.” 
“So you two spoke?”
You held up your finger as you finished the prosecco in your glass. Once you finished, casually, you picked up the bottle and poured yourself a second glass, only beginning to speak when the glass had been filled to your liking. 
“He came over to my apartment, Derek. I had already opened the door, and what was I going to say—”
“How about no?”
“It’s rude to interrupt Derek Morgan.” Penelope elbowed him and took a sip from her own glass. “But he’s right, Y/n. You could have said no and slammed the door in his face.” 
“But that’s not who I am. You know I’m a sucker for closure. You know I wanted to talk to him anyway. I just wasn’t expecting the discussion that ended up happening….”
Derek raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “Do tell Princess.”
You shrugged and took another sip. “We talked about Maeve.”  
The looks you received were exactly what you had expected, only because it was how you felt about the conversation. 
“Number nine. I hate how you pick out what we will watch each week. You just skim through every single title on every platform until the one with the right ‘energy’ calls out to you. And they’re never the same. You manage to match a film to the night perfectly, and I hate how well you can pinpoint that about me. 
“Eight. I hate the way you drive. You manage to be the safest and most dangerous person on the road. There’s nothing more to that one. You terrify me.” 
“I cannot believe you, Spencer Reid. You have the audacity to come to my house, lose at chess, and then accuse me of being the reason our relationship ended!?”
“That’s not what I said.” His voice was desperate. “I’m not blaming anyone but myself, okay? I fucked up. I know I fucked up. I just—You were so–”
“I was so what, Spencer. What about me was just soooo fucking terrifying to you that you decided you didn’t want to propose to me anymore.” 
“That’s not fair.” 
Your jaw dropped. “You’re fucked in the head if you think the part that isn’t fair is me calling you out on that.” 
Spencer paced around, running his hands through his hair. He was going to wear a path in your carpet the way he was pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. 
“Seven. I hate how captivating you are. Whenever you tell a story, there’s no use in getting any work done because all anyone can do is wait for the story to be finished. If there’s no ending–I’ve watched Morgan sulk at his desk until you returned from a meeting because you were running late and didn’t wrap up the end of the story for him. Something about the way you speak, the way you capture people’s attention, is one of the most dangerous weapons I’ve ever seen on the planet. 
“I hate—oh, sorry–Number six.” He smiled at you and squeezed your head. You were shaking slightly as you rapidly blinked away tears, trying to inhale and exhale through your nose. It wasn’t working. Every word this man said made you one second closer to jumping onto him and kissing him senseless. “I hate how smart you are. It’s ridiculous. You can argue so beautifully and eloquently that it makes anyone arguing against you look like a fucking idiot. You speak four fucking languages, making you invincible and even more aggravating since you’ve decided to start learning a fifth one. You have started to beat me every other game in chess, which is actually humiliating for me, and I can’t figure out how you’re doing it. You read everything under the sun and still manage to have a life, friends, and family. I don’t know anyone in the world who could compare to your intellect.”
“Five. I hate how you steal my chocolate-covered pretzels. I bought you a whole fucking cabinet’s worth, and somehow, mine still got eaten.” 
You watched him give you a bit of a stink eye for that one, causing you to kiss his hand lightly. “My apologies.”
“You don’t mean it, and you know it.” He grumbled, flipping his page so that he could keep reading. 
“I hate how beautiful you are. It’s distracting. I can’t work near you anymore because all I want to do is daydream about you. I want to watch you smile for the rest of my life if I can help it.” 
“Three. I hate how much you care. It terrifies me how much you care about other people. I have seen you at your best and your worst moments.” You squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I have seen the worst outcomes of cases we could ever imagine, or the best, and yet you put the same amount of effort and care into all of them. It’s infuriating because you put your life on the line constantly to be able to give people a chance, whether that be to save them from others or to save them from themselves. You are the most considerate person in the world, even to those who might not deserve it.” 
This was not a good case. 
It was never a ‘good case,’ but this one just sucked the absolute life out of you. You had been back for only a month, and it was going too well. You were on top of your game. You were better than ever—but you knew the other shoe would drop.
And it did. 
You were never a big fan of getting shot at, but you would prefer that rather than have to escape a burning building. It was one of your biggest fears, and here it was, being realized. 
You had managed to crawl down to the first floor before everything started to go black. He had sealed the windows. He had sprinkled broken glass along the stairs, causing you to rip open your legs and hands as you slid down the stairs. The more significant shards of glass shredding the back of your pants. It was fucking painful. But you had managed to make it to the kitchen. 
That’s when you saw the firefighters bursting through doors, trying to contain the fire surrounding you. You could feel the burn on your skin as they pulled you out of the building, blood dripping down your legs and hands. 
You must have been one fucked up sight for Hotch to drop everything he was doing and run over to you. But you wished he didn’t because the building behind you exploded. The flames must have hit the gas line, and the house came crashing down. 
You were thrown back from the force, causing you to land on your back. Nothing was broken, nothing was sprained, but adding road rash and hearing loss to your ever-growing list of injuries was not fun. 
Spencer and Hotch, who were shoved to the ground by the blast, scrambled over to you, where you were just lying on the ground, facing the sky, trying to breathe. 
Maybe they were yelling your name or just trying to speak to you, but your head buzzed with the remnants of the explosion. 
You watched as the sky above you filled with smoke and flickered with red hues. At some point, you saw Spencer come into your line of view. He was definitely mouthing your name. 
Just then, like a wave crashing over you again, your hearing came back. Overwhelming could barely describe the feeling of shock running through your body. Your eyes widened as tears sprung to your eyes, your lungs gasping for air, and your mind flooded with adrenaline, with panic. 
“Y/N. Hey. Listen to me. Hey.” Hotch had been trying to get you to sit up. He was going through his own internal panic attack—this scene was a little too close to NYC, to Kate. 
Ambulance sirens blared, and you could hear a beam crash down and spur on the fire—” It hurts. So. Bad.” You finally managed to whisper, still gasping for air. 
Reid wasn’t sure you were even registering that you were sobbing and that tears were racing down your cheeks. 
“Can you sit up?” 
“My hands.” You mumbled. “There-there was glass…so much…” 
You flinched as Hotch yelled for a gurney. 
“I need you to try and sit up, okay?” Spencer was next to you. He was on his hands and knees, slowly trying to gain your attention. There is a gentle touch on the arm here and a brush of your hair out of your eyes. He was just trying to give you peace, a breath amid everything going on.
“Spence.” You whined, flexing your hand, wincing when a tiny shard of glass shifted in your palm, causing even more pain. 
“I know.” He said to you, gently taking your hand and wincing as he saw the microscopic shards scattered across your palm. “I need you to sit up for me.” 
“Please don’t make me get up, Spence.” You whispered. 
Hotch had moved away from the both of you, trying to clear a path so two EMTs could reach you. 
“Once you sit up, I promise you won’t have to do anything else.” 
You closed your eyes and let out a cry. It felt so relieving to just let whatever tension you had left in your body. But the thought of not doing anything sounded even better, so you slowly made your way to a sitting position, leaning against Spencer’s chest as he kissed your head and carefully ran his hand up and down your arm. 
Spencer’s entire body relaxed into yours. He had never been more grateful that you could make it out of that building before…he didn’t want to think about what else would have happened. The two of you had just started talking again. You were hanging out. He would have never forgiven himself if he left things the way they were. 
It felt wrong for him to be grateful at how much you got hurt because all of your limbs were still intact, and you were still conscious, still breathing. But he was thankful as he held you on the pavement, in the middle of the road, while everyone ran around you both. 
You, on the other hand, were not happy to be sitting up. The adrenaline started to wear off, and your body was no longer buzzing. “Spence.” You whispered to him, trying to get his attention. You were nauseous, and the world was spinning. Everything was phasing in, and out of clarity, you could actually feel the earth rotating. 
“Spence.” This time, it was said with more urgency. And it caught his attention. “I need to lie back down.” 
“You can’t—”
“I’m gonna vomit.” 
“Shit shit shit, okay, nausea is usually a sign of a concussion, a really bad one, most likely in the red zone—”
“Spencer, please.” You mumbled, closing your eyes and slumping against him, trying your best to hold down whatever you felt slowly creeping up your throat. 
“I can’t let you lay back down.” He mumbled, turning you in his arms, prepping for whatever would come out. 
Luckily for both of you, the two EMTs and Hotch had made it back over, bucket in hand, because Hotch had told them you most likely had a concussion. And god bless that stupid bucket because it managed to save some of your dignity by not throwing up all over the street. The EMTs had checked you out, flashing that stupid fucking light in your eyes, looking at your hands and doing their best to pull out some of the larger chunks of glass, and then helping to get you onto a gurney, and eventually into an ambulance to be shipped off to the nearest hospital. 
Spencer was the only person you would allow to come with you in the ambulance. 
“Two. I hate how well you know me and can read me like an open book. I have never met someone who knew me in the same way you could. You know things about me before I could even fathom the possibilities. You have been there for me in some of the darkest times of my life, and I would not have survived if it wasn’t for you. You picked me off the ground countless times, more than I could ever repay you for.” 
“And last but not least. I hate how I can’t live without you. I hate that if you’re not in the same room as me, I can’t breathe. I hate how you manage to make my days filled with comfort, support, and love when sometimes I don’t deserve it. I hate when you go away to conferences, and I have to wake up to an empty bed, and the only thing that motivates me is the fact that I know you’ll text me as soon as you’re awake. I hate how you are the last person I want to see at night before I go to sleep. And I hate that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
You were fully crying, tears tracking down your cheeks, as you squeezed his hand tightly. You laughed slightly, trying to wipe away one of the stray tears, but he beat you to it, using his thumb to wipe away your tears gently. 
“Did you just quote When Harry Met Sally at me?” 
He smiled cheekily, handing the paper back to Derek, who put it in his pocket. “What else would I be able to quote at you? It was playing that night…” 
You shook your head, unable to stop the smile across your face. You heard him whisper, “I love you,” but it still made your heart ache. 
“Okay, Doctor Reid. Work your magic.” 
“You make it sound like I’m performing a spell or something. I’m literally just fixing your computer.” 
You snorted and shrugged. “Isn’t it you who always said that physics and magic are basically the same thing.”
“Okay, yes, but—”
“And computer science is a science, right?” 
Spencer just rolled his eyes, realizing he would not win this argument, and began to futz with your desktop. 
It had crashed on you while you were in the middle of a report. At home. In your pajamas. 
This was a practice that was familiar to Spencer. Whenever you were working on something that was not classified or very sensitive information, you had gotten special clearance from Hotch to bring it home. So Spencer has seen you write up preliminary profiles for cases around the country in nothing but your pajamas many times. 
Except he hasn’t seen you in just pajama shorts and a tank top since, well. 
He was supposed to be focusing on the desktop, and that is what he is going to do. 
“I really appreciate you coming over at like 10 pm, Spence. I really do. I’m sure you were busy, so I really appreciate it.”
He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “It was no trouble, really. Besides.” He turned back to the screen with a cheeky grin across his face. “I know how you get when something breaks.” 
Your jaw dropped slightly, and you leaned against the kitchen counter. “Spencer. Are you…flirting with me…”
His face turned slightly red as he quickly faced the computer screen again. “And so what if I am,” he mumbled, focusing on the task at hand. He wasn’t sure how you managed to freeze your computer this badly, but he was determined to work it out. 
You shrugged and checked your phone, looking at the text from Emily that you had chosen to ignore. Maybe she told you not to ask Spencer over. Maybe she had warned against moving too quickly with anything. 
But you were a grown adult, you could make your own choices. You could—
“It’s, uh, it’s all fixed for you.” Spencer had stood up and was nervously fiddling with his hands. He hasn’t been like this towards you since you had both started dating over seven years ago. 
You bit your lip and casually turned your phone on DnD. 
“Thanks, Spence. I really appreciate it.” 
He nodded, doing his best to stop eying you up and down. 
The two of you stood there, unsure of how to continue on with one another. 
The tension was thick, almost like a humidity in the air that covered your skin and ruined your hair, just by stepping into it. 
Spencer eventually broke eye contact and wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, I’m going to uh…Have a good night.” He quickly grabbed his bag from the counter and shut the door behind him. 
Your hands dragged down your face as you sighed and shook your head. Maybe it was for the best that you two just stayed friends. Maybe it was for the best that you two never were in a relationship again. You remembered what happened last time. Maybe you should just finish the report and go to bed. Or maybe you should run after him. It wouldn’t be that embarrassing, considering he was staring back at you, right? 
Who said you didn’t deserve to make a bad decision every now and again. 
You grabbed your keys and slid on your slippers, not even bothering to grab a coat. You opened the door and came face to face with an out-of-breath Spencer just about to knock on your door. You took one look at each other. 
And that’s when he reached down and brought your lips to his. 
Emily reached over and gently handed you your vows.
“Fuck fuck fuck.” You whispered, causing everyone around you to laugh softly at you, desperately trying to stop crying. 
“I said I was going to try not to cry during his, and that obviously was not the case.” You slowly exhaled your lips, taking his hand and smiling up at him.
“Hey.” You whispered, causing him to whisper it back to you. “So–um. I wrote my vows a long time ago. Like, a while back. And I was looking for them and almost couldn’t find them. But I remembered that I had written them in that really small brown, leather journal thing that you got me for one of my birthdays that I kept losing because I always put it down and never remembered where.” 
The small, collected group laughed together, watching you turn the page in that small brown leather journal. 
“I didn’t know where I wanted to start when writing my vows. I knew how I wanted it to end, though. I’ve always known how I wanted my life to end and everything to go. So that’s what I did. I started at my endgame and worked my way backward. But shit happens, and life never goes according to plan. Never.” 
He squeezed your hand. 
Those weeks after were fucking brutal for you. 
Relaxing was something you were never fantastic at, so having to take two weeks off to recover from your concussion, burns, cuts, and bruises was excruciating. 
Maybe it would have been worse if a certain someone wasn’t basically living in your apartment with you, doing anything and everything to be there for you. 
You woke up to freshly brewed coffee, sometimes breakfast if he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes, he’d be home in time to make you both dinner. It felt oddly domestic for you, reminding you of before Maeve, before everything that had gone down over the phone. 
Once the two weeks were over, he might have visited to check up on you. There would be nights where he would stay over just in case your head or back started to hurt again. It took more convincing for Spencer to let you go back to work than it did for your actual neurologist. 
“Need I remind you I’m a doctor too, Spencer. I’m going back to work on Monday, meaning two over one, majority rules.” 
Spencer scoffed and crossed his arms. “The lights will cause headaches, and staring at screens and files will only add to that. It’s a bad idea, y/n. Especially if we have to go somewhere, traveling across the country in a plane. You might as well knock yourself out because the air pressure would kill your head and ear drums.” 
“Always the one for dramatics, aren’t we.”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m not being dramatic. I just care about your well-being, apparently more than you do—”
“Spence.”
“What.”
You kissed him softly. Just to shut him up. There were no ulterior motives. None. 
He hummed, hands sliding around your waist, keeping you close to him as you broke the kiss. 
That was another development you were keeping under wraps. The two of you might have decided to give it another shot. It had been over a month since you rejoined the BAU, and even before you got severely injured, Spencer had been doing everything he could to apologize. Whether that be his apologies or through his actions, he was stepping up. 
But both of you had yet to outright tell the others. Emily knew something was going on, especially when you showed up to work in the same outfit two days in a row, but she had assumed you had seen someone else, not your ex. 
You didn’t mind, though, when he took such good care of you when he bought you fresh flowers every week, when he kissed you past the point of breathing when he would—
“What are you thinking about?” Spencer whispered, interrupting whatever spiral you had started.
“What book I should read next.” 
“Liar.” He squeezed your sides, laughing softly and kissing you again. 
“There’s not much I can say about how life doesn’t go as planned since everyone here with us understands and knows how quickly life changes. But I realized that I need to have you by my side regardless of how it changes. I don’t want to be back in a place where I’m not with you because it just didn’t make any sense.” 
“My vows are short because I would never make it through them if they were any longer.” 
This caused another ripple of laughter throughout your friends, giving your fiancé a moment to wipe away another stray tear on your cheek. 
“All of this to say.” You cleared your throat, but it didn’t stop the tears from clouding your vision. “Shit. Give me a second.” 
Emily gave you a tissue, which you used to wipe under your eyes. You shook your hands slightly, trying to calm yourself down and shake out the rest of the emotions so that you could at least finish saying your vows. 
“Having begun to love you, I love you forever—in all changes, in all disgraces, because you are yourself.”
Spencer beamed joyfully, realizing you followed his same path, quoting something you knew the other loved. 
And suddenly, the stars aligned. A soft breeze picked up, and the world was quiet. 
Everything was alright. Everything was okay. 
And for that beautiful, brief moment, you had everything you could have ever asked for, and there was nothing you would have changed, nothing in the whole world that was worth the love and happiness you felt in this moment, beaming at Spencer as you both said
I do. 
“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.” - Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
______________________________________________________________
Taglist: @gubzgirl @onlyspence @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @mynameisnotokay @kalulakunundrum @academiareid @lilsunshine1092 @brilliantreid @shqwqrma @cluelessteam @lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests @hereforfun22-blog @yoursarahg @r-3dlips @lilrios-world @hereforfun22-blog @mega-kittyglitter-1
451 notes · View notes
mrsmikaelsxn · 1 year
Text
New Girl
masterlist
pairing: gilbert blythe x female reader
warnings: just fluff, somewhat love triangle with billy, some jealousy, kissing
summary: you had just moved to avonlea from london, you were a beauty with fancy clothes and a lovely accent, who just so happens to have two boys take interest in you
a/n: there is such a lack of gilbert fanfics on here, he is such a sweetheart and needs more attention
song: angeleyes - abba
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Walking up a hill from your new home, you follow a path you saw that helps lead you to school easily. You were dressed in a gorgeous light blue dress that somewhat stuck out around you. You had a ribbon in your hair and some jewelry with white gloves.
You truly didn't know what to wear, back at your old school this was the normal clothing.
You saw a pretty small white flower, you picked it and tucked it behind your ear. Smiling to yourself you continued down the path until you hear your name being called.
"Excuse me! Miss!" you stop walking and turn around to see a young boy, he seems to be around your age. Your eyes quickly scanned his features and you had to admit he was rather handsome.
"Hello, sir!"
"Gilbert- please, call me Gilbert," he smiles.
"Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you, Gilbert. I'm y/n," you smile at him.
"You're new here? You have a pretty accent"
"I am, and thank you. I just moved here from London," you blush.
"Wow, is it nice there? I've been wanting to travel."
"Well honestly I suppose it depends on where you are and what part you're talking about. But overall I like it," you explain looking at a squirrel you saw running in a tree.
Gilbert seemed to not be able to look away for you. He was in awe of you, he has never encountered a girl with such beauty as you.
"Perhaps you would join me in my walk to school? If that's where you're heading?" you suggest.
"I would love to"
Tumblr media
You both arrive at school and see everyone already there. You put your small bag on a hook in the cubby area. All the students turn and look at the two of you. It quickly goes quiet and they start to whisper.
You smile at them nervously and start to fidget with your gloves.
Gilbert leans over to your ear and whispers, "don't worry about them, they just don't get a new classmate that often." You nod and introduce yourself. The girls giggle at your accent and the boys ask you to say some words they think would sound funny with it.
Gilbert also took notice of Billy Andrews who was in the back watching the scene. Gilbert also noticed the way his eyes lingered on you, longer than he liked.
He then saw Billy start walking towards you as the boys started to walk outside and girls went to their little corner. They all told you to come sit with them but before you could follow, someone stepped in front of you.
"My, my, what a pretty girl you are. I'm Billy Andrews," he says holding his hand out. You put your hand in his with the intention to shake it, but to yours and Gilbert's he gently picks it put and places a kiss on your knuckles.
Perhaps you would find this sweet, if it were Gilbert doing it. But this boy seemed rather arrogant in your opinion.
"Oh- um- thank you and good to meet you... I must be going now, the girls are waiting for me," you nod your head over to the girls watching in the corner. You see Diana and Anne smiling at you waving their hands over for you to join them.
You slip away from Billy and go sit in between them. "I love all of your dresses," you say to them. They were different from what you grew up with but that's what made you like them.
"Ours? Look at yours! You are very beautiful and that outfit is miraculous!" Anne exclaims as the other girls nod their heads.
"Why thank you," you then lean over towards her when the other girls broke off into some converstations, "your red hair is lovely, did you know? It suits you perfectly," you whisper.
"Oh you don't know how much that means to me!" Anne smiles so happily you can't help but do the same.
Tumblr media
The day ended and Gilbert had a clenched jaw while he was thinking about Billy telling the other boys that you would be crawling to him in no time. Gilbert may or may not have accidentally stuck his foot out as Billy was passing by.
Gilbert saw you walking out of school and jogged over to you. "Hey! How was your first day?"
"It was magnificent, it was very different from what I am used to," you admit.
"Figured it would be, do you mind if I..." you look over at him as he continues, "walk you home?"
"Of course not!"
This then became a routine with the two of you, you both had grown very fond of each other and were very close.
Today, Billy was flirting with you again, and Gilbert mistook your actions for you flirting back. That day on the walk back, you got in a small argument.
"You were flirting back!"
"What? No I was not," you shook your head.
"Even if you weren't why wouldn't you?!" Gilbert didn't understand why you never went out with Billy, most of the girls had a crush on him.
"Because- because I fancy someone else!" you take a step closer to him, leaving only a few inches between you two.
Gilbert stops as his eyebrows raise, "who?"
"Oh Gilbert, you complete idiot," you sigh while shaking your head, but before he could respond you grabbed his collar and connected your lips to his. He quickly responds and puts one hand behind your head, and the other around your waste. You could have melted right there as you leaned into the boy. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, loving how soft it was.
Gilbert was about to faint, he had been dreaming of this happening since he met you. As you were pressed on him while your lips molded with each other, he prayed that you couldn't feel how fast his heart was beating. You slowly pull back and rest your forehead on his.
"You, Gilbert, I fancy you," you whisper to him, breathlessly.
"I like you as well, darling," he smiles connecting your lips again.
1K notes · View notes
hotvintagepoll · 16 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Propaganda
Deborah Kerr (Bonjour Tristesse, An Affair to Remember, The King and I)— For several decades she held the record for most Oscar nominations without a win (6 in total), and she was a prolific leading lady throughout the 40s and 50s. She's best known today for the romance An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant, and as the governess in The King and I. Many people have this erroneous perception of her as extremely prim, proper, and virginal, but this could not be further from the truth. When she first came to Hollywood under MGM she was typecast into boring decorative roles, but broke sexual boundaries for herself and Hollywood generally in From Here to Eternity, when she made out (horizontally!) with Burt Lancaster (on top of him!) in the famous Beach Scene. She went on to play many sexually conflicted women, a character type that would define most of her post- Eternity work. She continued to break Hays Code boundaries with Tea and Sympathy, which addresses homosexuality/homophobia head-on, and even did a topless scene in The Gypsy Moths 1969!! One of the only classic stars to do so. She deserves a more nuanced and frankly a hotter legacy than she currently has!!!
Devika Rani (Achhut Kanya)—She was grandniece of Rabindranath Tagore (laureate). She was sent to boarding school in England at age nine and grew up there. After completing her schooling, she joined the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art (RADA) and the Royal Academy of Music to study acting and music, at a time when aristocratic women did not enter showbiz. She studied filmmaking in Berlin. It is well known that she underwent training at the UFA Studios in the art and technique of acting under Eric Pommer, and other aspects of film production including costume and set designing and make-up, under eminent directors like GW Pabst, Fritz Lang, Emil Jannings and Josef von Sternberg. She is also reported to have worked with Marlene Dietrich. She had a multi-faceted personality and took on many responsibilities of film production at Bombay Talkies, a studio that she co-founded with Himanshu Rai in Mumbai in 1934. She often took care of hair and make up, supervised set design and editing, scouted for new talent and mentored them. She was the face of Bombay Talkies, and also the reason behind the political and financial backing the studio received, at a time when even women from red light districts refused to work as actresses. She was the first recipient of the Dadasaheb Phalke Award, when it was instituted in 1970.
This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Deborah Kerr:
Tumblr media
I think she was one of my first crushes before I realised I was bi in The King and I when I watched it as a kid honestly. The kissing scene in From Here to Eternity is iconic for a reason. Actually tried to learn the accents for the characters she was playing if they weren't English which is more than pretty much anyone else was doing then. Played very restrained characters who frequently seemed to be desperate not to be so restrained. Did horror movies without venturing into hagsploitation tropes. Gave Marni Nixon the credit she deserved for her share of the singing in The King and I.
Anne Larsen is a peak late 1950s bisexual with big MILF energy. Have you seen the behind the scenes pics of her wearing a suit?? Have you????? Vote Deb as Anne Larsen.
Nominated for an Oscar six (6) times and never won, but besides her having actual talent (hot), and besides her looking Like That (very hot, also beautiful), she was always playing women who are, like, crazy repressed. Which makes it fun and easy for me to read these characters as queer. Icon!!!! You know what's hot? Playing ambiguously gay in vintage Hollywood.
Tumblr media
Her face and talent and body, yes, ofc, duh. But also!!! Her HANDS!!!! I may be but a simple lesbian, but she is the best hactor (hand actor) that ever lived and that's HOT! For propriety's sake I feel I must redact a large portion of my commentary on this subject. Anyway. She's hot in her most famous roles (mentioned above), and also some of her sexiest hacting is on display in An Affair to Remember (her hand on the bannister when Cary Grant kisses her off-screen??? HELLO???), Tea and Sympathy (when she's trying to persuade Tom not to go out and she keeps flexing her hands like she wants to reach out to him but can't??? ALLY BEHAVIOR! WE STAN!), and The Innocents (which opens and closes with extended shots of her hands bc director Jack Clayton was also an ally and he did that for ME). Much of her appeal also lies in the fact that she often played deeply repressed characters and you know what's hot? When those uptight characters finally unravel. It's sexy. It's cathartic. It's erotic. Plus, she's beautiful to look at in both black & white and technicolor, and the more of her films you see, the more you can't help but fall in love!
Tumblr media
Literally is in thee most famously sexy scene of all time (or maybe just during the hays code era which is what we're talking about HELLO), which is the beach scene with Burt Lancaster in from here to eternity. To quote a tumblr post of a screen capture of a tweet of a video of joy behar on the view: "y'know, there used to be movies where they were kissing on the beach... From Here to Eternity. They're kissing-- Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr are Kissing on the Beach and then the WAVES crash!! You know exactly what they did!"
Tumblr media
She might have a reputation of being chaste and virginal or whatever, but we all know it's the quiet ones who are certifiable FREAKS
Tumblr media
Devika Rani:
Achhut Kanya (1936) is the only one of hers I've seen but hot DAMN
Tumblr media
245 notes · View notes
he-calls-me-kitten · 2 years
Text
Pleasures of Royalty
Diavolo and GN!MC's secret debauchery
Tumblr media
"Di-Diavolo! Enough please!" You screamed, holding his hair in fistfuls as he relentlessly pleasured you with his mouth. Even watching his head, moving between your legs, feeling his deep breaths on your skin. All of it was driving you wild.
How long has this been going on now? Honestly you had lost track of it. Somehow you went from being his favourite human to his favourite being in all three realms.
Gentle pats on your head after exams well done turned into him grabbing your hair as he pushed his ungodly length into your mouth. Helping you clean up after intense P.E. exercises with his tongue instead of towels. His hands often slipped inside your clothes when he was straightening your uniform.
But it's not like you did a very good hiding your eagerness. Always leaning on his shoulder during group getaways. Sitting yourself down his lap to help him to paper work, when noone was around. And the one time you called him to the throne room for him to see you sitting naked on his throne, wearing his crown lopsided on your head.
He's still hasn't finished getting back at you for the last one.
"Diavolo, please, someone will hear us outside!" You whimper and shake your head. What was he thinking, trying to fuck you in the throne room like this? All the while he's kneeling while you're sitting...Barbatos and Lucifer would never forgive you.
"But you look so beautiful on the throne, my love." His kisses travelled upward, past your stomach, tracing the shape of your ribs. You turn more irresistable, the more he has you. Atleast that's what he keeps groaning into your ear as he fucks you.
"Y-you told me it was an emergency! Ahh!" His hands undid your already dishevelled uniform. "I ran here, straight from RAD...I even told Lucifer...aaghh...he said he'll join us soon-"
Knock. Knock.
"Diavolo. This is Lucifer. Are you in there?"
Diavolo looked disappointed, shaking his head as he fixed you a little. You looked panicked. There's no other exit out of this throne room. And there's no way you can face Lucifer with the amount of hickeys Diavolo has left on you.
"I'll hide there until he leaves." You pointed towards a long table with a floor length cloth covering it's legs entirely. Noone would see you until they lifted the cloth.
"Coming Lucifer. Just a minute." He allowed you time while he wore his coat begrudgingly and opened the door. You relaxed, leaning your head against one of the table legs and smiling. It was exhausting sometimes, but it was mostly fun.
Sneaking out during parties and school fests, just to embrace each other in dimly lit locker rooms and cubicles. Sometimes even in empty classrooms. Whenever you and Diavolo passed by someplace he'd made love to you already, he'd exchange mischievous grins with you.
There was about to be a brand new addition to this list of places. You tensed up hearing their voices get louder. Shit, they were right above you. You watched in horror as they sat down, their legs under the table along with you. You gravitated towards Diavolo, bumping your head against his knee.
L: "So what was the work about?"
D: "MC and I were discussing difference in cultures between the Devildom and Human realm. We are thinking of making it an extensive report and printing it in the Annual magazine."
Diavolo's sneaked his hand inside. He seeked out your face and you gave it to him. His fingers carressed your cheeks lovingly. His thumb brushed over your lips. What a tease. Well seems like you could tease him right back.
L: "Ah I see. Allow me to assist you as well. I will call Satan to fetch some appropriate books for research and I can start right away."
D: "Lucifer, really. You've helped enough with the paperwork last month. You deserve a- uh...a break"
Diavolo stammered as he realised what you were doing down there. He sat through you palming your crotch, but unzipping him and bombarding his length with your panting breath was not precedented.
L: "Are you sure? You seem rather flushed, your face is completely red. You must be tired already... perhaps I should take MC home. You need some rest."
D: "No no, Lucifer. I assure you I'm absolutely fine. Also I think I'd rather have MC here tonight."
Diavolo's fingers threaded into your hair as you choked on his length willingly. He was barely keeping it together and you were having the time of your life, tormenting him like this.
L: "Are you sure Diavolo? Sigh...alright, let me just tell MC to let you rest early and not let you stay up talking to them. Where are they?"
D: "Down...uh..down in the washroom. MC... might be a while. I'll... tell them what you said.. instead. You...really should go home and rest now..."
The moment Lucifer walked out of the door, Diavolo let out an ungodly groan of pleasure, finally releasing himself on you. You savored the feel of his cum on your tongue, dripping down your face and chin. You win.
But the victory doesn't last for very long. The next thing you know, you're naked with your wrists bound tight to the headboard of his bed as he stands there shirtless, unbuckling his belt menacingly. You close your eyes and sigh.
"Shouldn't you write me a notice of absence for tomorrow?" You already know you're not walking tomorrow. He laughs, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulder.
"I'll write you one for the whole week instead, MC."
3K notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 1 year
Text
george russell’s the type of guy | george russell instagram au
pairing: george russell x reader 
when george starts to hint at a relationship, the internet can’t quite believe who “white bread” george russell is with. 
f1wagupdates
Tumblr media
liked by likedbypierregasly, albono23 and 421 others 
tagged: georgerussell63 
f1wagupdates george posted this on his story recently sparking rumours he’s in a relationship. we don’t know who she is yet but it looks like he took her home to the countryside, very cute. 
view all 21 comments 
yukierreforever george russell attempting a soft launch was not on my 2023 bingo card 
softleclerc the way she looks exactly like the country girl we’d expect
lavenderlewis i wonder what private school she went to 
yourusername 
Tumblr media
liked by georgerussell63, y/bffname and 9,087 others 
yourusername a still from a recent project (killing my friend’s exes - jk if you’re the police) 
view all 101 comments 
peachyrussell @georgerussell63​ ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE??? 
y/bffname stab me please 
yourusername ur wish is my command 
f1fan34 she’s super cute but like we all know this isn’t the girl on george’s story right??? he’s the type of guy to cry if she rose her voice at him 
lordperceval  omg let him breathe 
Tumblr media
georgerussell63 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked yourusername, alex_albon and 271,430 others 
georgerussell63 a weekend away from the track well spent 
view all 11,629 comments 
alex_albon GEORGE WILLIAM RUSSELL WHAT IS GOING ON 
landonorris RUSSELL we need answers now !!!!!
charles_leclerc the boys gives us regular life powerpoints but conveniently left this out 
georgerussell63 we have a group chat for a reason CAN WE NOT USE IT 
cleclerc16 i don’t mean to sound like a conspiracy theorist but it was defo that girl whose pic he liked the other day 
chillisainz55  all the pics have been a brunette... you may be onto something 
yourusername 
Tumblr media
liked by georgerussell63, lovelysainz55 and 11,338 others 
yourusername word on the street is that i’m cuffed so enjoy this pic before they become one-way traffic to him 
view all 231 comments 
georgerussell63 one of a kind beauty 
yourusername come back home i miss you (all of you) 
alex_albon THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE 
yourusername you can see yourself out 
f1girly12 i honestly don’t even know what’s going on anymore 
totowolffy can someone grab a camera when they show toto who george is with i wanna see his breakdown 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
georgerussell63 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by lewishamilton, yourusername and 671,349 others 
tagged: yourusername, mercedesamgf1 
georgerussell63 ahhhhhh this is what we’ve been working for, thank you so much to everyone at mercedes. words can’t describe how much this means to me and my family, my maiden win is something i’ll never forget (though thanks to a special someone i don’t really remember the celebrations). 
view all 11,982 comments 
yourusername you’re welcome handsome, congrats on the win lover 
danielricciardo russell george i think i say on behalf of the entire paddock that we love your girlfriend and her parties 
yourusername anytime danny 
georgerussell63 i love her more 
landonorris man you make it so sappy everytime 
f1wagupdates so is this the full confirmation? 
russymerc i feel like i’m the only one who isn’t surprised that george finally went for a girl like her instead of what everyone expected 
yourusername 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by georgerussell63, mercedesamgf1 and 24,198 others 
tagged: georgerussell63 
yourusername the paddock looks good on me. oh and congrats georgie boy, (gross shit incoming) i’m so proud of you, here’s to being at your side for the many more in the future xx 
view all 3,091 comments 
russellstar63 they’re so different but i actually love them together so much 
georgerussell63 thank you my love, i intend on winning a championship with you 
lewishamilton now i see what alex was complaining about 
pierregasly be in love somewhere else 
alex_albon god you’re such a loser how did this happen 
yourusername  i think you’re cool babe 
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
writingsonsaturn · 25 days
Note
Tim and Y/n are high school sweethearts but they go there separate ways not because they want to but for some reason, and y/n moves to LA (maybe sometime after the break up with Rachel) and meets tim again after she calls 9-1-1 for help and they reconnect - you're an amazing writer
rekindled love - tim bradford
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
{ masterlist }
🪐: i’m so sorry it took me so long to write this, i made it a little longer to make up for it so pls forgive me lol :)
word count: 1.8k
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
Senior year was the beginning to the end, Tim had talked to you about joining the military and The moment your eyes met Tim’s freshmen year during first period you knew your heart was his.
Your secret crush developed as you continued to stare and daydream about his pretty face, your friends all laughed at you and practically screamed at you to finally make a move on him.
“He doesn’t even know who I am! Why would I make a move?” you had groaned over the phone.
“Y/n, babe, I need you to be serious. That man has the biggest crush on you! He barely even knows what class he’s in because he’s too busy gawking at you” your friend, Darla, argued with a roll of her eyes.
After the much needed push to finally get the ball rolling, you had sat next to Tim in class. Unbeknownst to you his heart had started racing, hands began to profusely sweat, and mouth became dry at the simple thought of you being next to him.
The class was long, and boring. That was until Tim asked “are you understanding any of this?” you were surprised, and slightly caught off guard.
“Honestly, no, but i personally enjoy a good game of pretend” your witt had caught his attention, he smiled and looked back at his paper seemingly writing something down.
Your gaze was curious, looking over his shoulder. “Ms. L/n, please keep your eyes towards me” your teacher had declared loudly, causing your cheeks to heat up.
Tim had looked at you once the teacher's prying eyes had left you two alone, he slyly slid over a note.
“Here’s my number, call me?” the note had read, you smiled and put the note in your backpack. 
Your eager body was nearly out of the seat before the bell could even make the first ring, hurriedly running out of the school halls, ignoring the confused calls of your name spoken by your friends.
The rest was history after that, late night calls began and he started picking you up in the mornings for school. Tim bragged about you to his friends, and you to yours.
you told him about a writing program you had been accepted into. You both were happy for each other, but deep down both of you knew that long distance wouldn’t be something that could work for you two at the moment.
Graduation night you and Tim went out to the coast, sitting on the sand and taking in the serene atmosphere. “I really don’t want to go” you broke the silence tearfully, the impact of the moment finally hitting you.
“Neither do I” he agreed, putting his arm around your shoulders.
You both sat there, tears streaming down your faces in quiet acceptance. 
You both had said your goodbyes, the hug lasting longer than usually knowing it would be the last one. “I’ll find you again” he whispered in your ear, and kissed your forehead, leaving you with his love.
-
You looked around your now empty apartment, the heavy brown boxes filled with your life already on its journey to Los Angeles. 
Your job had offered you a chance to move offices, you took the chance to finally move back to your hometown. Your life was seemingly perfect, you had a well paying job, a beautiful high rise apartment in the upper east side, you were living the dream.
Although your heart never seemed aligned with your head, it stayed where you left it. The ache never left your bones, the longing for the once in a lifetime love you had experienced. 
While you sat in the back of your cab, your mind wandered off, running away with different thoughts and daydreams. Tim was a recurring image in each of those daydreams and thoughts, you wondered if you’d see him again, if he still thought about you the way you thought about him.
The simple thought of seeing Tim again made your stomach flip and heart pump faster than you could have prepared for. That feeling only enlarged when the airport came into sight, you knew the idea of seeing Tim again was a mere fantasy as you hadn't heard from him or keep up with how his life had been. You both agreed it was better to make a clean cut, seeing each other live their respective lives without one another would just be another grueling stab to the heart. 
You didn’t even know if Tim still lived in California, all of these old, decrepit feelings were clawing their way out of their tomb. You simply just shook your head, hoping to scramble the memories, and quickly made your way inside the airport.
The flight was as nice as a flight could be, you would've gotten first class but you didn't feel like selling any organs. You were lucky enough to get a window seat and a nice older woman who gave you little sweets that she claimed would help pop your ears.
You were greeted by your mother, who was gracious enough to pick you up at 11:30pm on a weekday. “Mom!” you squealed, hugging her tightly with excitement, you only had your bare necessities with you so you didn't have to go to baggage claim. 
You and your mom walked out arm and arm, you talked about your long flight and she mentioned how excited your dad was to see you again. Your parents were letting you crash at their place for tonight while you waited for the moving trucks to arrive.
As soon as you got to your parents house and greeted your dad, you went right up to your old room and immediately went to sleep, not worrying about your skin care or taking a shower. 
Once you had woken up, you were met with the comforting smell of your mothers cooking. You got yourself off the bed and walked into your bathroom, hoping that a nice warm shower would rid you of the suffocating airplane stench. The warmth of the water melted into your sore muscles, while the steam rolled through your stuffed sinuses.
You took a couple of deep breaths before getting out, wiping the steam of the mirror before getting ready. 
“Oh how i've missed your cooking” you exhaled as you reached the kitchen, your dad spoke from the dining room table “you gonna need help moving in?” 
“No, the moving dudes will help with all of that pops” you patted his shoulder while grabbing a piece of bacon, “I’ll be able to stop by sometime next week after i've gotten settled in, and my work hours situated” you explained, your parents smiled at you “we’re glad you’re home, y/n.”
When the moving company had finished their job, you finally were able to take a moment and breath. You were once again exhausted but still needed to eat dinner, you weren't in the mood to cook, let alone were you willing to dig through all your boxes to find your kitchen utensils. You pulled out your phone and ordered take out, as you waited you unpacked the box with your bed sheets and made your bed sleepable. 
Your house was in a dainty little neighborhood, it was older architecture with beautiful accents and all around wonderful. When the room had been unpacked to your standards, your next battle was to unpack your bathroom. 
The doorbell rang, you quickly made your way towards the door. You tipped the driver and said your thanks closing the door. You were thankful they packed you plastic silverware and dug into the mouth watering food in front of you.
You decided to call it a night after a little more unpacking here and there, but you had tired yourself out and you were ready to go to bed.
You flinched awake at a loud clashing coming from downstairs, you sat up quickly thinking it might just be home alone jitters until the loud crash was heard again. You knew better than to try and investigate the noise so you quietly tiptoed to your bedroom door and locked it, then went into the conjoined bathroom also turning and locking it before hiding in your tub and dialing 911.
“911, what's your emergency?” the voice on the other line asked, “There’s someone in my house.” your shaking voice answered, fear present in your speech, “Okay, and what is your address?” she questioned “4758 garden road.” “Okay, and do you know where this person is located?” she asked for clarification “I think he's in the kitchen” you tried to stay calm but the adrenaline and fear were catching up to you.
The 911 operator stayed on the phone with you until the police arrived and arrested the intruder, you hung up the phone when you heard a knock and an announcement stating it was the police. You hurried to the door, unlocking it and ready to profusely thank the officer who had possibly just saved your life. “Oh thank god, i thought i was going to-” you abruptly paused when you noticed who you were thanking.
“Y/n?” you heard Tim’s voice call your name, you almost thought you were hallucinating out of fear. “Tim?” you replied, all the emotions you were holding in waiting for the cops to show up spewed out. 
“It’s okay, it's okay, you’re safe now” Tim comforted you, your shaking form easily fit into his body. He held onto you, also in shock at seeing your face after so much time had passed, he knew he needed to get a statement from you but he just can't seem to let you go. 
When he had gotten you to calm down, he took you to the precinct to get a statement from you. “So you became a cop” you tried to make small talk, your voice nasally and hoarse from crying. “Yeah, i did” Tim responded, putting paper on a clipboard “when did you come back to town?” he continued as he tried to make you comfortable.
You and Tim went over your written statement, and after that you caught up on life. You talked to him about your time in New York, and he told you about his time spent in the army and how he went on to become a cop.
It had felt natural, like the flame rekindled as if it had never been put out.
Before you left the station Tim slipped you a note and a quick smile before going back to his duties and having another officer drive you home, you read the note “Here’s my number, Call me?”
You felt the same excitement you had the first time you read those words, and still were just as eager to get home and call him.
282 notes · View notes
miinatozakiii · 8 months
Text
moonlight serenade
kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (pt. 3)
summary: sana finds you even cuter after seeing you in shark pj's, you two are hopeless lesbians, you drive sana home and it's more romantic than it should be – oh my god you're not a mother?
wc: 5.3k
warnings: mentions of food, i think that's it ; reader has tattoos ; u two are hopeless romantics ; lesbians being lesbians
pt 1. pt2. pt4.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: I love jazz. I've been listening to jazz in a bakery/cafe while writing each part actually. pls listen to moonlight serenade by ella fitzgerald, it's a work of art and one of my all time favorites :-D
(are lyrics in fics corny? I have no idea. I just love jazz and thought this song was perfect for this part.)
trying to write as much before I move! enjoy ;-]
-
“Are you actually serious?” Jihyo says, placing her cup of coffee down. Sana pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a small breath,
“Jihyo, I don’t know what to do,” Sana says defeatedly.
Two months have passed by and that means two months of seeing you every now and then. Johnny, your brother, has returned from his business trip, so he ended up being the one to take Hana to school in the morning and the one to pick her up in the afternoon. You, however, were not going to miss the chance to see this lovely woman named Sana. 5'4 inches of pure beauty and charm. So, you convinced him to let you take Hana to school once or twice a week just to see who you think is the woman blessed by Aphrodite. 
I mean, the temperature is dropping, and the warmth that spreads through your body when you see Sana is definitely something you need for this weather.
Every week Sana would see you in the morning once or twice. You two would exchange your friendly greetings before Hana goes off to chat with her new best friend Jiyeong, you’d stare at each other all lovingly (you two are oblivious, it’s sick), and then part ways. Rinse and repeat, reuse, reduce, recycle, etc, this went on for two damn months. 
Sana would never say anything more, she wouldn’t flirt, she wouldn’t ask you out, and she wouldn’t do anything but be friendly. She still believed that you were literally her student’s mother, and there was a guilt that got heavier every time her heart did a flip from seeing you.
Each interaction sparked a small flame in your hearts, and just before it grew bigger, you’d wave goodbye; the flame would die again, never growing large enough to really warm you two the way you both needed.
“Sana… I honestly have no clue what to say,” Jihyo starts, and she looks at the young teacher in front of her, practically losing her mind, “I mean, you’re sure she’s her mom?”
“Yes, I mean, the girl’s dad and her take turns dropping her off and whatnot. I'm not going to be more delusional than I already am trying to find anything that makes her seem less like a mother, I mean, it's clear that she is the mother of that girl.” Sana explains, and her heart sinks a little, “I guess her dad is nice, though, and tall, I don’t know.” Sana groans. 
Jihyo watches Sana stick out her signature little pout and swirl the coffee in her cup, 
“Well… There are always others, no?”
“I don’t know, it’s just something about her Jihyo,” and Jihyo listens with interest, “I just, ever since we met, I feel like, there was some kind of… god this is so embarrassing…” Sana trails off, putting a hand on her forehead and pinching her eyes shut from slight embarrassment. Sana reminisces the way you’d joke about Hana making your wrinkles appear if she kept it up with her little antics, how you’d make her laugh at your little comments, and the way your eyes scan the room for her in the mornings and -
“You’ve been a hopeless romantic since we were roommates, I’ve probably heard worse.” Jihyo sighs, and she reminisces about the days when Sana and she had to share a small single-bedroom dorm, and how she would gush about anything and romanticize everything. 
“Look, she’s just so pretty… Maybe we could just be friends? She’s sweet.” Sana suggests, and Jihyo laughs in disbelief.
“You want to be friends with someone’s mother that you also, or, might have a crush on?”
“Maybe.” 
-
You let yourself in through the front door with your spare keys, hanging your jacket on the coat hanger and sliding your shoes off, setting them on the shoe rack. 
There’s a faint melody of a slow, soft song playing, and there’s a low voice that hums along to the old tune. It fits the atmosphere of the quiet house on a Thursday night.
You creep through the hall quietly to see your brother in the dimmed kitchen washing a few plates. He’s in a navy long-sleeved shirt with its sleeves rolled up so water doesn't temporarily shade his apparel, and loose shorts that go down to just above his knees. His hair is a bit messy, and he looks nerdy with his circular black glasses on. You laugh at the sight of him in his pajamas and slides, he jumps a little and turns his head in surprise after hearing you.
“My god, at least text me.” He sighs, and you chuckle at him. You make your way over to the area where he is and sit across from him at the kitchen island, he directs his attention back to the dirty plate in his hand, “Did you need something?”
“Kinda.”
“You know where everything is, just grab it if you need it. Also, be quiet, Hana just fell asleep.” Johnny responds, turning off the sink and placing the white dish in the dishwasher. 
“It’s not a physical thing, I just… maybe some advice, or at least your thoughts.”
“...On?”
“There’s this girl,”
"Oh," He mumbles quietly, “You’re ready to date again?”
“I think so,” You begin, “She’s different you know. Not like that girl in high school. She’s actually the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she’s sweet and nice and caring and-”
“How long have you known her?”
“Two months...”
“So it is Ms. Minatozaki.” Johnny scoffs, though, not in an insulting way, more of an ‘I fucking knew it’ way. He picks up a rag and starts to wipe it on the countertop.
You look at your taller brother in surprise, “How did you know?”
“Hana tells me all about you two y’know? Why else would you willingly wake up earlier than you should to drop off my daughter at school? And, she tells me that you ask about her teacher?” He laughs, “You’re not good at hiding things, never have been.”
“Hey!” You say defensively, and a little too loud as it makes him put a finger to his lips,
“Lower your voice.” 
“Sorry.” You mumble, laying your head on your palm. Johnny turns his body to face you instead of the counter connected to the sink that he had previously been wiping,
“Soooo, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know Johnny.”
“You think she likes you?” He asks, genuinely curious about your new interest. Johnny grabs two glasses of water and places them on the counter, then sits down to the right of you, making sure to give his full attention to you. 
Johnny has always been a good brother, and you two had your necessary brother-sister moments where you were at each other's throats; in fact, you’d bicker all the damn time and it even went on into high school. However, you two always had each other’s backs. Even when you hated each other there would be moments where you two were the only ones who understood each other, and sometimes time seemed to stop when you’d talk about the deeper topics and anything bothering you two. 
And so, time slows down as Johnny listens to your rant.
“We’re friendly, I mean, what am I thinking? I feel slightly delusional I won’t even lie,” You sigh, “She’s so pretty and sweet and I just, I really want to get to know her. Like ever since I met her I felt like… It’s so corny but I swear the world literally paused for a moment.” You add, shifting your look away from your older brother.
How are you supposed to tell your brother that this woman that you’ve known for two months is making you lose some sleep, and, by the way, you haven’t even had a full conversation with her either. You think of the woman that you go out of your way to run into and see for ten minutes a day total, twice a week. You think of her radiant smile that rivals the sun's rays, the voice that’s more soothing than any song on your playlist, and the way her eyes light up when she sees you, and -
“You’re head over heels, huh,” Johnny says, amused.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I barely know her.” you lie,
“Well, you could.”
“And how am I supposed to do that? ‘Oh hey I think of you day and night just because I think you’re cute and nice and I think I almost overfilled a cup of cold brew while daydreaming about you, uh maybe we could go out sometime?’”
“Maybe don’t say that much, dumbass.” Your older brother says playfully, “Just start with a compliment or something, you seriously suck at this romance stuff.”
“Thanks,” You mutter, rolling your eyes, “But what if she thinks that’s weird? I’m literally her student’s aunt.”
“Maybe,” Johnny sighs and finishes the water in his cup, “Maybe you should get some rest, y/n. If you lose sleep over this woman who you’ve never had a full conversation with, imagine how much sleep you’ll lose when you finally do.” He stands up and makes his way over back to the sink to rinse the glass cup you had gotten him for his last birthday, “So, maybe you should catch up on rest now and rant to me when you finally have the balls to actually make a conversation with her, then I could actually give you some decent advice."
“You suck.”
“I want to give you my feedback and advice, but this is literally all I can say right now: ask her out and come back to me.”
“This is too much.”
“You’re a loser, y/n.” Johnny jokes, and he takes the cup that you hadn’t touched away and then rinses it.
-
You don’t even get to plan anything or prepare yourself for your next interaction with Sana, and you look stupid when you run into her too.
You’re at the nearest convenience store in an oversized t-shirt that was your brothers’, the gray shirt with a shark graphic on it that was too comfy to not steal. Paired with that tee were plaid shorts and white socks with more sharks on them that you had gotten from Hana last Christmas, along with grayish-green clogs on your feet. 
You were dressed like a college student that was on a budget, and of course, you had to run into the woman of your dreams at a convenience store at 12:24 am on a Friday night while looking stupid.
Sana had run into you while you scanned the drinks section. You didn’t notice her calling out your name while there was pop music playing in your earbuds, and when you turned to see who had tapped on your shoulder your eyes widened.
Sana held a small basket in her hand, and she wore a purple sweatshirt along with gray sweatpants, much more presentable than what you were wearing. Your face goes red as you realize that she’s caught you looking ridiculous, all while she looks perfect.
Her hair is clipped up and some strands fall over her face, and she looks so unbelievably adorable just standing there smiling at you.
“Hi.” She says, looking you up and down. 
She scans your whole look and gets a little flustered by how precious you look. Your hair is messed up and disheveled at the roots, as if you’d just gotten out of bed and ran a hand through it. The oversized t-shirt drowned your figure in comfort, and your inked, toned forearms were revealed. The t-shirt you wore had a cute shark graphic on it, Sana had guessed that your daughter had something to do with why you had that shirt. She smiles at the sight of you in such comfy clothing, looking lovely as ever while you stare back at her. 
“Hey.” You respond, taking out an earbud,
“It’s surprising to see you here y/n,” Sana giggles, “Thirsty?” She questions, and she’s peeking at the vitamin water in one of your hands.
“I guess so.” You mumble, biting the inside of your cheek and putting a hand in your pocket, “It’s pretty surprising to see you here too.” You add. Surprising, but wow, definitely lucky. When would you ever see her looking so comfy and out of her workplace looking so cute? 
Sana giggles and you feel like a huge gust of wind has hit you so suddenly, about to hit you off your feet. You smile brightly. 
“I couldn’t sleep, I wanted something to snack on,” Sana shrugs. You glance at her basket and see some spicy turtle chips in the basket,
“Eating something spicy at this time is new to me, most people would have something warm, no?”
“Maybe.” Sana mutters, “I like your outfit, by the way.” 
Your ears turn red again and you look down at your clothing, “Yeah… It’s a shirt from Hana’s dad, haha, that’s why it’s so big.”
Sana’s heart sinks a bit at the mention of Hana’s dad. 
Sana and Johnny had met other times, and Sana thought he was nice, sweet, and she can't lie he does has a nice smile, but not as nice as yours. He treated Hana with care; Sana could tell he loved her dearly, as much as you did. 
“I see, I like it. The two of them must love sharks, she always draws them during class.”
“She and her dad are very similar, lots of shark things in the house. I prefer koalas.” You reply. You wonder why the hell you’re mentioning koalas at this time, at this moment in this place, but it doesn’t matter because it seems to spark some kind of conversation with the woman in front of you, and Sana thinks it’s cute, actually. 
“Koalas?” She questions amusingly, "They’re cute. I think hamsters are cuter, though.” 
“hamsters?”
“Mhm.” 
You chuckle at her response and wonder, how does she get cuter every time? Sana turns her head to eye at the drinks, then makes her way to the refrigerator door to grab one for herself, she grabs a canned iced americano and turns her body to face you again, 
“Do you live near? I feel like I would’ve run into you sooner if you did.” Sana says, looking at the can in her right hand. 
“Uh - no. The nearest convenience store closes at 12, so I just drove around until I found one open.” You answer, “Do you live near?” You ask. You wonder if the question is too weird or creepy to ask, I mean, this is a woman you don’t know too well, and would it be weird to ask a person you find so attractive where they live?
“Kind of. It’s a fifteen-minute walk, maybe less, give or take. The one right next to my place is closed too.”
“You walked? At this time?” You question her. Worry takes over your whole body because she walked alone? In the dark? At this hour? 
Sana just hums in response, “Yeah, the neighborhood is really quiet and not too bad.”
“Still, you should’ve driven or something.”
“I don’t drive.” She simply states. You furrow your brows. She just stares back at you with those big brown eyes, it almost makes you forget about worrying.
She walks past you and heads to the self-checkout, you follow. There's a sudden idea that pops up in your mind, and you usually wouldn't be so bold to suggest or ask anything so direct, but it's twelve in the morning and your mind is too scrambled to make or think of any decent decisions.
“Sana,” You murmur, voice just barely above a whisper as you find the confidence for what you’re about to say, “Uh- this might be a little weird to ask, but, um…” You stutter, why the hell are you stuttering? She’s staring at you with those large espresso-colored eyes that remind you of your job at the moment, and the longer she stares back at you the more your mind races. This woman has your heart doing flips and pounding through your chest, you can barely manage your thoughts and words,
“Yes?”
“Uh, could I take you home?” You finally say, barely managing to make eye contact with her and it’s a humbling experience as your usually leveled (at least you think) demeanor crumbles under the presence of this woman.
“You don’t have to. It’s late and I don’t want to cause you too much trouble, y/n.” 
“I’d be much more troubled if I knew you were walking home alone at this time, I insist.”
“Alright then. Let me pay first.”
You pause for a moment and Sana just turns back around, scanning the chips and canned coffee she had in her basket. It’s almost 12:30 now, and a pretty girl is letting you take her home. This wonder of the world is letting your disheveled self take her home.
-
“You have a nice car,” Sana says. She's never had a thing for cars or really knew too much about them. She's only paid attention to Jihyo’s five-seat white Lexus and the black, modified BMW that belonged to her childhood friend Momo. Other cars don't really matter or stand out to her, but Sana’s interest in you grows when she first sees the green Mercedes. Five-seated car looks nice and neat from the outside, for some reason, it really catches her attention. When she sits in the passenger seat she’s hit with the smell of coconut and vanilla. There are two things hung from the internal rearview mirror: One, a small keychain of a koala, and two, a picture of you and Johnny.
Sana can’t help but smile at the picture of you two, you two look happy.
You start the engine and put on your seatbelt before putting the drink you bought in the cup holder. You press on the screen in your car and a slow jazz melody plays. Of course, it had to be a love song. 
“I’ve never seen your tattoos up close, they’re really pretty.” Sana suddenly says as you start to move out of where you were parked. Her eyes scan from your upper forearm, where the tattoo started, and down to where it ended just below your wrist, “I only saw a bit of them when you had dropped Hana off the first day.” Sana added.
She wanted to add on about how she also noticed the tattoo just under your knuckles too, and how she found the ink on your skin so endearing. She wanted to tell you all about the things she found attractive about you. From the noticeable things like your bold features to the little things she’s noted in her mind from every meeting. The way you’d always run a hand through your beautiful hair once or twice, the eye contact you couldn’t hold with her, the way you bit the inside of your cheek when you were quiet, the way your fingers often tugged at the beaded bracelet on your hand, how cute it was to watch you say bye to your daughter, and various other little details. Sana wanted to tell you all about those things, but that would be incredibly weird, right?
“Oh, yeah, thank you. I got the tattoo on my forearm a couple of years ago. Hana picked out the butterfly on my hand last year, actually.” You say, looking at the screen of your car as you back up a bit, making sure you don’t hit anything. 
“Oh, also, you can type the address on my phone. Here.” You add, handing her the device. Sana types in her address quickly and it pops up on the screen. It’s a quick 4-minute drive, and you both wished it were a bit longer.
The music continues to play softly while you two sit in silence, and it somehow makes the mood a bit more intimate whilst the faint sound of Ella Fitzgerald's voice echoes,
I stand and I wait 
For the touch of your hand in the June night 
The roses are sighing 
A moonlight serenade
Your breath hitches, “Um, you can change the song if you want…” You say embarrassed. Sana shakes her head and mumbles, 
“It’s alright. I like it, It’s cute.” She admits, making you blush a bit. You grip the wheel a little tighter as you stop at the red light. The heartfelt lyrics fill the air with a romantic hum, and only the tender melody is heard as you sit together in silence.
The stars are aglow
 And tonight how their light sets me dreaming 
My love, do you know 
That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?
Sana’s heartbeat skips a little knowing that you listen to such romantic melodies, and she wonders if you love as romantically as such songs. Her mind wanders to the thought of you serenading her in the moonlight, or serenading her in a more domestic setting. The sudden thought of you humming along to these tunes while you cooked or cleaned allowed made her cheeks flush a bit. Jihyo was right: Sana is a hopeless romantic. She’s too far in to get out of the hole of these feelings, and her heart aches a little, the guilt piles up.
You on the other hand are freaking out.
Sana likes your lovey-dovey taste in music, and she seems content (Sana's having a crisis). Maybe you do have a chance with this woman, I mean, she’s already in your car and letting you take her home. Maybe you can do this again, maybe you can listen to songs like this together in a more intimate setting rather than your car, and maybe you can do more than just listen to Ella Fitzgerald together. All the maybe’s in your head are cut short as you reach her place and park in front of her apartment complex. 
“We’re here.” You mutter, and you wish you weren’t.
Sana nods and reaches for the eco-friendly bag she had set down, unbuckles her seatbelt, then turns so that her eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. She puts her left hand on your right hand that had been gripping the gear shift ever so gently, your jaw tenses a bit and your left hand that had been on the wheel tightens its hold once more. She looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again. Your heart is suddenly an acrobat the way it's doing so many flips.
“Thank you again, I appreciate it.” She says, and her other hand is on the handle of the door, ready to get out, but she doesn’t.
“Anytime, I didn’t want you to be out alone at this time.” you wonder how that sentence leaves your mouth so calmly because your heart is beating at least two hundred times per minute. 
Sana’s lips curve into a smile again and you relax a bit,
“Well,” Sana starts, and she opens the door, “I’ll see you soon?”
“I’m picking up Hana on Monday.”
“Great. See you then, y/n.” She finally says, turning away and getting out of the car. You two look at each other again and your eye contact lingers a bit before she finally closes the door, waves, and turns to head inside the apartment complex. 
The music continues to play, and your heart longs for her once again.
I stand at your gate
And I sing you a song in the moonlight 
A love song, my darling 
A moonlight serenade
-
A week passes after this encounter, and Sana is currently giving the kids an announcement that might have them jumping off the walls.
“Alright everyone in your seats please.” She says kindly. The students listen to her and shuffle to their seats, some chatter being shared as they do so. Sana claps her hands in a pattern to bring the students’ attention to her, and they clap their hands the same way that she had, quieting down in the process.
“Alright everyone, before I make this announcement, I need everyone to behave and not get too rowdy, okay?”
“Yes Ms. Minatozaki!” The class answers enthusiastically. Sana nods and smiles at them,
“Alright. So, there’s a special trip that is planned for you all next week.” She begins. The kids' faces start to light up after hearing the words “special trip” and almost all of them are itching to get more details on it. Sana’s face seems to light up with theirs from just looking at the excitement on their faces, so she continues,
“Next Wednesday we will be spending the day at the art museum downtown. There are going to be multiple people guiding you throughout the museum, and you’ll be able to learn about the art.” Sana explains, “And, at the end of the trip we’ll all meet back at a special room where you can paint along with an instructor.”
The kids’ smiles grow even wider, some are whispering to each other while others continue to keep their attention on the young teacher. 
“Now, I also wanted to add that we will be needing some chaperones to help look after the class. I have some papers that I’ll give to you, make sure you show them to your mom, dad, or guardian. If they’d like to tag along to help out that would be great, and highly encouraged.” Sana says, pulling out a pile of papers from her desk, she begins to pass around said forms.
-
An hour passes and it’s free choice time. Hana walks up to the young teacher with the form that Sana had previously handed out. Sana smiles at the young girl and tilts her head,
“What is it, Hana? Is everything okay?” The young teacher questions,
“Um, Ms… What does guardian mean? You said mom, dad, and guardian earlier. Does that mean grown up?” Hana asks, and she looks at the paper as if her five-year-old self can read the whole thing with ease, 
“I guess so. It’s an adult who takes care of you.” Sana explains to the girl. The girl hums to herself and furrows her brows,
“Does that mean y/n can come?”
“Of course, she’s your mom isn’t she?” Sana asks, and she’s confused as to why the girl looks up at her in surprise,
“My mom?” 
“Yes… She’s your mom, no?”
“Ms. Minatozaki, Y/n is my aunt.” 
Sana’s whole world stops for a moment. Y/n is her aunt? 
“So your dad and her are…?”
“Y/n is my papa’s younger sister, she always jokes about him being so old,” Hana says, laughing to herself.
Sana genuinely stops functioning as she processes this new information: You’re not taken. Fireworks set off in her heart and confetti seems to pop: you’re not her mom. All the guilt that had been on her shoulders from thinking she was infatuated with a taken mother is gone, and it all makes sense now. Sana wonders how stupid she could’ve been, I mean, you and Hana’s dad had similar features, face shape, hair texture, and color. The young teacher had also realized that Hana only called you by your name, and not “mommy” or “mom” or anything like that; how could she have been so stupid?
“Ms. Minatozaki?”
“Oh, yeah, yes Hana. Y/n can come, of course, she can.” Sana says, and she really hopes you do come. Hana smiles and looks back at her paper before talking to her teacher again,
“You know, my aunt, she asks about you a lot.” 
“She does?” Sana says, her heart skips a beat. Hana nods and looks back up at the teacher,
“She always asks about how school was, but she always ends up asking more about you and how you were during the day.” Sana’s eyes widen and she looks at the young girl in front of her, exposing you for being so interested in her. 
The flame in her heart grows bigger, and it seems that the flame has no intention of dying down now that she knows you’re not Hana’s mother. Hana turns around and makes her way back to her desk to color after seeing that Sana wasn’t capable of responding again, and Sana doesn't even notice. Hana sits down unbothered, not knowing that she just turned Sana’s whole mood around, not knowing that this new piece of information will have her daydreaming the rest of the day – no, the rest of the week – maybe the rest of the month.
-
The school day comes to an end and the usual routine occurs: bell rings, kids scream, talk, and practically leap out of their seats to get in line to go to the entrance of the building. Sana waits with her usual group of eight, which includes Hana, and she hopes that today would be the day that you decided to pick her up. You had already picked Hana up on Monday, but now it’s Wednesday and those are the days that Hana’s dad would usually pick the little girl up, great.
-
Forty minutes pass and Sana sits down at the main office with Hana, no one had come to pick her up yet. Hana seems to be unbothered by this as she colors and draws on the sheet of paper that Sana had given her to cure her boredom, but she worries slightly since Jihyo still waits for her in the front. 
Sana texts Jihyo a string of apologies and explanations and before she reads the instant reply, the sound of heavy breaths are heard as a familiar face enters the room, looking around all worried until her body relaxes when she sees her niece.
Y/n lets out a sigh of relief seeing Hana sitting down, coloring as if there wasn’t a single problem in the world. Her look shifts over to Sana, who is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and it makes the two women smile at one another.
“Hana,” your voice makes the little girl turn her head. She smiles and runs up to hug you, leaving her art on the desk,
“Aunt y/n!” And this is the first time Sana hears the little girl actually call you her aunt, she wishes that she would’ve called you aunt earlier (it would've saved her sleepless nights of wondering what the hell to do with her feelings, but at least she knows now). 
You hug the little girl back and swipe away the strands of hair on her face, “Hi little one. Your dad had something come up at work, I rushed over as soon as my shift ended.” You explain. You turn back to share eye contact with the young teacher, eyes narrowing and lips curving upwards as you smile at her, “Thank you for watching her, I’m sorry for being so late.”
“It’s all right, really.” It’s more than all right, Sana thinks. 
You grin again and turn your attention back to your niece, “Ready to go?”
“Yup!” 
“Okay little one, come on.” and you crouch down to let her wrap around your shoulders, letting her piggyback ride you. You grab the art that your niece had made on the table and finally stand in front of Sana, thanking her.
“I’m sorry again, thank you so much.”
“It’s no problem, it’s nice to see you again,” Sana admits, a bit shyly too. The grin that’s already present on your lips grows and you wave to the shorter woman,
“I’ll see you.” You finally say, waving with your free hand and turning your head to the little one, “Let’s get going, your dad will be back by dinner.” You mutter, and Hana hums tiredly in response before you head out the main office doors, taking a quick glance at Sana, smiling again.
Jihyo’s going to lose her mind when I tell her all of this, Sana thinks to herself.
511 notes · View notes
louloulemons-posts · 9 months
Text
Shy smiles
Eddie Munson X Shy!Reader
Summary : Eddie and reader crushing on each other.
Word Count : 1k
Tumblr media
Warnings : Not Proofread, major fluff, use of Y/N, kinda rushed, I was in need of fluffy Eddie honestly, idiots in love, very ramble-ly, fem pronouns are used, but readers not described physically.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
He knew you because of Nancy, you were a childhood friend of hers, along with Barb. You were quiet and normally went unnoticed, but not by him. Never by him.
He remembers the first time you caught his eye. You were walking down the hall, waving goodbye to Nancy and didn’t realise he was next to you. Bumping into him, dropping all of your stuff, along with him dropping his.
“I’m so sorry!” You said quickly, picking up his things, along with yours. “I’m sorry too, seems like we were both in our own worlds huh?” He smiled at you, helping you.
Standing up, he handed you a book and you passed him his D20 dice. “I’m really sorry,” you said, meeting his eyes. He was taken aback, you were beautiful. “It’s okay Sweetheart, just mind you don’t hurt yourself okay?” He smiled crookedly.
“‘Kay,” you said, gently. That’s the first word that came to mind. You were so gentle. Not dainty, no weak, but gentle. Like you wouldn’t hurt anyone or anything, you’d do things with care.
Shaking his head slightly, he spoke once more, “Well it was nice to bump into you, you have a good day.”
“You too Eddie,” you smiled slightly. His mouth went slack, you knew him. You knew his name.
You turned from him and carried on to your locker. He stood there, watching you. Not in a creepy way - okay maybe it was slightly creepy. But he was in awe. “Munson!” A voice shouted.
“Let’s go,” Gareth called to him.
“Uh, yeah I’m coming.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
That’s the first time he met you. He thought about it often. Since that day he’d had a sixth sense for you. He knew when you walked in a room, or saw you as soon as he entered one.
And then he met Mike Wheeler, which meant he met Nancy, which meant he met you. Properly this time. He saw you often, but you were so quiet, he didn’t want to scare you off.
Playing D&D in the Wheelers basement has become a regular thing this summer.
It was one of the spaces large enough for the boys to hang out, and as Wheeler parents didn’t mind it was perfect. Eddie pushed up from his seat, excusing himself to the bathroom.
Running up the stairs he waved to Mrs Wheeler and Holly. The pair smiled at him and he carried on up to the next floor. Walking to the bathroom, he hummed to himself, but when he went to open the door someone walked out and into him.
Looking down he saw a familiar face. “Y/N,” he breathed out. “Hey Eddie,” you smiled sheepishly, “Sorry for bumping into you, really need to stop doing that.”
He chuckled, “I’m sorry too. How are you? It’s been a while.”
“I’m doing good, college is kicking my ass but you know,” you shrugged, and he noticed how you played with the bottom of your shirt.
“How about you? How’s everything?”
“Well I finally graduated.”
“I heard! Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” his face warmed. “Oh and I’ve got a new job at Hawkins mechanics.”
“That’s so great, I’m so glad for you,” you said honestly. “That you, what is it you’re studying?”
“Oh forensic science.”
“Wow. I’m not surprised, you were always the smartest girl in school.”
“I dunno about that.”
“You were.”
“I think people would disagree, if they remembered me,” you laughed to yourself.
“Well I remember you. Never forgot.”
You looked up to meet his deep chocolate eyes. “You didn’t?”
“How could I? How could anyone forget you?” You face turned pink and warm, which made Eddies mouth lift in a smile.
“Never forgot you either.”
“Little old me?”
“Yeah you Eddie.”
“Well I’m hoping it was good impression I left.”
“Oh the best.” The pair of you smiled at each other, struggling not to grin.
A door opened down the hall, “Hey Y/N you okay?- Oh hi Eddie,” Nancy said, her head popping round the door. Eddie waved, “Wheeler.”
“Sorry Nance, me and Eddie were just catching up.”
“Oh yeah course take your time,” the girl gave you a knowing smile, and shut the door.
“Well I better let you get back to Nancy,” Eddie spoke. “Uh yeah of course.” Looking down at your shoes, you walked past each other. As he was about to enter you spoke, “Hey Eddie.”
“Yeah Sweetheart?” The nickname made your heart flutter. “I was um - I was just wondering,” you played with your fingers, twisting the rings that sat there. “If maybe, and feel free to say no, if maybe you’d wanna hang out sometime?”
Eddie paused, was this real? It couldn’t be, the girl he’d crushed on for so long was asking him out. “Like .. um like a date?” He asked.
“Y-yeah, like a date. If you want. Or as friends.”
“A date sounds good.”
“Great.”
“Great.”
“Gonna need a number to call,” you smiled.”
“Oh um right, I have no pen or paper, but Nancy has my number. You know cause of Mike and stuff. So ask her and call whenever you’d like,” he rambled on quickly.
“Okay, well I’ll call you then.”
“Can’t wait,” he smiled.
“See you.”
“See you.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
You slipped into Nancy room shutting the door behind you. She sat up on her bed, wiggling in excitement. “So?” She said.
“I asked him out,” you spoke.
“And?”
“He said yeah!” You almost squealed, she ran from her bed and hugged you.
“Oh my gosh this is so exciting!”
“He um, he said to get my number from you,” you laughed, knowing Nancy had given it to you months ago, practically begging you to call the boy you’d fawned over for years.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Eddie locked the bathroom door, unable to stop himself from grinning. Fist bumping the air a few times he was beaming.
He looked in the mirror and spoke to himself “Don’t mess this up Munson! She asked you out. She’s gonna call. You’re gonna go on a date.”
His smile was none stop, when he walked past the room you and Nancy were excitedly chatting in, past Mrs Wheeler and Holly, down to the basement.
The boys looked up at him, at his face. “Let me guess Y/Ns here,” Mike teased.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍
844 notes · View notes
lyssasdrafts · 2 months
Text
— AFTERGLOW (azriel x reader)
Tumblr media
015: “ just wanna lift you up, not let you go. ”
masterlist previous next
‼️‼️ written portion below the cut ‼️‼️
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you’d never felt more at peace.
you’re holding onto azriel’s back, your head laying on his shoulder as he starts up the motorcycle. he drives slowly at first, your heart beat suddenly beginning to race as he starts going at a faster speed, causing you to grip onto him tighter.
a smile passed your lips, though no one could see it since he’d insisted on you wearing his helmet. although the view goes by fast, you try to enjoy the scenery you pass by. nothing but the sound of his cycle and the wind, the lighting below the sunset, and that feeling of gratification within you. you could get used to this, you think to yourself.
he stops at a spot near the mountains, it’s a quiet place with no one else nearby. he helps you off his bike and the two of you find a bench to sit down on. it starts to get darker outside and you talk until the stars start to show themselves.
“so,” he smiles, “was the ride worth the hype?”
you admire the way his eyelashes fluttered in the moonlight. how the shine in his eyes reflects the stars above you. he’s beautiful, you think.
“yes! definitely,” you laugh, “thank you.” and maybe you were starting to fall in love with him, too.
the atmosphere is calm, so relaxing that you find yourself yawning and resting your head on his shoulder.
in your haze, you blurt out a question.
“azriel,” you say, no longer sounding as sleepy. he turns his head at you.
“why did you drop out?”
he stays quiet for a moment, was there something deeper there? you wait until he throws the question back at you, “well, i could ask why you chose to stay at velaris,” he chuckles.
you know that he was joking, but recently you’ve learnt that trust is a two way street. if you wanted him to talk to you about these things, he would appreciate you doing the same.
“honestly, i wouldn’t know where else to go,” you begin. “i’m mostly chose to go to velaris because that’s where nesta went. she’s basically my sister from another mother…”
“did you have anyone else?”
“other than her sisters and maybe lucien, no.” you shake your head. “we grew up together and they were all i had, i was… mostly alone as a kid.” you saw the way his demeanor shifted, something sparked in his eyes, signaling that the same thing resonated with him too. it was on the tip of his tongue, but he respectfully let you continue.
“i know that my mom loved me, but she was too focused on work. i was always over at the archeron household instead,” you smile, thinking of your childhood memories. “i admire her though, it probably wasn’t easy since… you know, my dad wasn’t there.” you chuckle thinking of the trouble you probably caused both your famillies.
“it must’ve been hard raising me while she worked on her corporate business. maybe people at school thought i was probably stuck up and well… i’m not really the easiest person to get closer with.” you lift your gaze from the ground to look at azriel, listening attentively. you give him a smile and a content look, telling him that it’s okay now.
it’s okay because i have you now.
“anyways, it’s your turn,” you chuckle, “what about you?”
azriel hesitates before he looks you in the eyes and realizes it’s okay. “i had a single mom too, y/n. and i didn’t really have any siblings either, i’m an only child. i guess we have that in common.” he tries to force a smile at the thought.
you nod, “you have step-siblings, right?”
“yes, but they’re—” azriel is interrupted by his phone ringing, the bright lockscreen causing a strain to your eyes under this lighting. you don’t see the contact name, but you see him visibly tense up after reading it. though he’s still at a loss for words, he picks up the call, getting up to be a few feet away from you, just out of your earshot.
you’d never seen him as upset as he was during that entire phone call, he mutters a “i’ll get back to you,” before putting it on hold and walking over to you.
“i’m sorry, y/n.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— NOTES
hearing more about y/n’s backstory and perspective… hopefully we’ll get azriel’s too
spoiler: i think y/n might be in love too 🫶
who do you think called azriel?? 👀👀 you and cassian both tried reaching him before cassian got rhys to call him
— TAGLIST
@ithan-holstroms-girl @strangelycami @fell-in-luvs @goldenmagnolias @glam-targaryen @acourtofdreamsandshadows @bloombb @mp-littlebit @gamarancianne @stqrgirlies-blog @peachcontour-blog @azriels-shadowsinger @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @chessebookgirl @fairywriter-oracle @thelov3lybookworm @corvusmorte @evergreenlark @marina468 @405rry @azrielsmate3 taglist is open!! lmk if you want to be added
155 notes · View notes