#enjoy this deep and thoughtful interview and have a nice day

[drunkeddiediaz]

If I see any vile take like ‘RyAn dOeSN’t WAnT BUdDie’ after that interview 🔪🔪🔪

[onlymingyus]

Like We Just Met

pairing; yoon jeonghan x jeon wonwoo x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; friends to lovers, reunited friends, mild dom!jeonghan, mild mlm, flashbacks to high school, threesome, unprotected sex, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, temperature play, wonwoo is able to lift the reader, pet names/nicknames, cameos from other members -- as always if i have left anything out and its glaring let me know.

w/c; 9.8k

a/n; thank you to @onlyseokmins for proofreading for me! 

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

The lobby of the Eleva was impressive and caused you to take a deep breath. You had been inside nice hotels before but none of them seemed up to par now as you looked up at the ornate ceiling. 

You had moved to the city a few years ago after getting a job as an intern for Artistaire and just a few months ago you had been moved into the position of editor. You were on a fast track to becoming assistant editor-in-chief if you did well with what you had been tasked with starting today. 

You could hear your boss’ voice in your head as your heels clicked over the marble, making your way towards the receptionist's desk. The conversation was so fresh in your mind that your fingers were trembling around the leather strap of your bag, held tightly against your shoulder. 

“It’s the most important article of the year for Artistaire. I’m trusting you to meet with both of them and find out everything about them. I want every detail. Don’t stick to the script, Y/N.” 

The article was for Artistaire’s most influential of the year. It was not only a great honor to be picked and interviewed for the article but also to be the interviewer. It could make or break someone’s career. 

Your biggest problem was that you were given very little detail about the men you were interviewing. It could be anyone. The entire point of the interview was to go in blind with no preconceived notions about who you were going to meet. You weren’t supposed to do any research and to get everything in the article from the interview so that it reads “raw and fresh” for the audience. 

“Get the dirty truth for me. I want to know everything, from what they eat in a day to who they are fucking.” René had smiled at you when you let out a breath at her crude wording before she added. “I know how much you like the corner office with the view, darling.” 

“Do it for the corner office with the view." You mutter to yourself as you step up to the desk and give a bright smile to the pretty receptionist, who looked a bit bored with you before you even spoke. “Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, from Artistaire.” 

Pursing her lips, the woman sighs, glancing at the screen in front of her, before her lips turn into a slight smirk and she meets your eyes, reaching for something out of your view. 

“Take the elevator to the 100th floor. You’ll need this, and from there you’ll be escorted to the penthouse, Miss Y/L/N. Enjoy your Eleva experience.” 

Furrowing your brows at her wording, you take the black card from her fingers, glancing over the gold engraved lettering before glancing towards where she had directed you to go. Whispering a soft thank you, you turn towards the elevator, feeling the knot in your stomach only getting tighter. Who the fuck were you interviewing?

Stepping into the elevator, you glance around the mirrored walls before looking at the buttons that run from B1 to 100. You knew Eleva was a tall building but the idea of being in the penthouse on the 100th floor was one that you had never thought you’d get to experience. You couldn’t help but bite at your lip to suppress a smile, wondering what the view of the city would look like from that high as you tapped the card against the reader and pressed 100, listening to a soft chime as the doors shut. 

As the elevator rises and the minutes pass, you lean towards the mirrored door in front of you to check your appearance. You had tried to look good, especially not knowing who it could be that you were interviewing. The only thing that you knew was that it was two influential men. That was a broad term with an even broader range of candidates. 

Politicians, actors, affluent businessmen, influencers, authors... You had spent hours trying to go over names but the list was so long with people that you felt that their actions and accomplishments could merit the interview. 

Hearing one last soft chime, you take a single step back from the elevator door and let out a breath to calm your nerves as the elevator comes to a stop on the 100th floor. With the doors opening, you meet the brown eyes of a handsome man who smiles at you, giving you a quick once over. 

“Welcome to Eleva, Miss..." 

He didn’t know your name. Furrowing your brows, you step forward and clear your throat as you offer the man your hand, letting him take it gently into his. 

“Y/L/N.”

Your voice is meeker than you intended, but it was a bit daunting to see the long hallway with a single ornate door that seemed to loom in the distance. Was this the man who you were interviewing? 

“Miss Y/L/N. I apologize; when Artistaire set this up, they didn’t give many details. It seems like that’s part of the interview process. I’m Hansol, the personal assistant of Mr. Yo–”  

The name was hanging on the tip of Hansol’s lips when he smiled and tilted his head, thinking better of it. 

“Supposed to be a surprise, isn’t it?” 

He was charming but obviously not who you were interviewing. You smile at Hansol taking back your hand as he walks beside you towards the penthouse door. 

“Yes, it’s a silly premise, honestly but it’s supposed to provide a “real” interview experience. The idea that my editor came up with was that this creates tension that the reader can feel through words.” 

Hansol smiles, glancing over at you once again and giving you a quick appraising look before reaching for the door in front of him with a sigh. 

“Seems like it works out. The articles are always interesting. May I take your keycard?” 

You look confused for a split second until you remember the black and gold card in your fingers and lift it, handing it over to the man in front of you. With another grin, Hansol taps the card against a reader on the door and pushes it open for you, letting you go inside first. 

“Mr. Y–” Laughing and once again catching himself, Hansol lifts his free hand to rub at the back of his neck before correcting his words. “My employer and the other gentleman you will be interviewing are right this way. Follow me, Miss Y/L/N. Also, if you need anything during your visit with us at Eleva, just ask for me personally, alright?” 

Offering him a nod, you follow, lowering your eyes to your bag, ready to take out your things as you enter a large living area and your breath is taken away by not only the aesthetic of the place but also the floor and the ceiling windows, offering you the view you had imagined in the elevator. 

“It’s stunning, right?” 

A familiar voice causes your brows to furrow even as you take a step towards the windows. Why did that man sound so familiar? 

Jeonghan tilts his head, looking at you from behind as you look out the window at the view. He could tell you were gorgeous even from where he was standing but he hadn’t seen your face just yet. You seemed to have been startled by his voice; that hadn’t been his intention but he did have that effect on people occasionally. 

“My apologies; I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Yoon Jeon—” 

“Jeonghan?” 

Turning towards him, your eyes widening, you stare at him as if you had just seen a ghost. Swallowing hard, Hansol takes a step back towards Jeonghan, pursing his lips before offering him the penthouse key. 

“If you need me, sir – “

“Then I’ll call you. You can go, Hansol.” 

A smile pulls at Jeonghan’s lips as he steps towards you, putting the keycard into his suit jacket pocket. Dark eyes move over your face and body before the man you have known for years is within arms reach and he laughs in disbelief. 

“No way…Kitten?” 

Your eyes were searching Jeonghan so closely to make sure he was real that you hadn’t realized that another man had moved into the room. Hearing the nickname that you had once been called in high school by your two best friends, you glance to your right, only to take a step back in shock to see Wonwoo smiling at you. 

“I– no one has called me that in a long time.” 

Grinning, Jeonghan reaches out to take your hand, as you seem to almost stumble in surprise at seeing ghosts from your past. He wasn’t worried about the glass behind you breaking but he was concerned about you getting hurt from falling down, as unstable as you seemed on your feet. 

“Well, no one but us called you that anyway. 

It had been around a decade since you had seen either of your friends in person after the three of you had made promises to stay in touch. Graduation had come and gone and the promise became harder and harder to keep as each of you went in different directions. 

You knew they were successful. Jeonghan’s family had always been successful so it was a clear path for him into business. Wonwoo, you had seen him as the face of many brands and the star of many dramas and movies. Meanwhile, your road to success had taken a bit longer and you were still climbing. Now your climb was looking like a shear cliff face as you looked at the two men in front of you with expectant looks in their eyes. 

“Holy shit, you look great, Kitten.” 

Wonwoo’s voice was quiet but warm, just as you remembered it. He had always been a comfort in your life when you were younger and you had found yourself cheering him on with each award he had received over his years of blooming into a renowned actor. 

“Wonwoo… thanks.” 

Jeonghan squeezes your fingers with a light chuckle slipping from his lips as you start to come back down to earth. It was like you were waking up from a dream and he could see the realization starting to register in your eyes. Your fingers pull back from his as you clear your throat, your eyes dropping to the floor with a quick shake of your head. You were trying to put on a confident facade. 

“I, this is a surprise. Clearly, as the interview states, none of us knew who would be interviewed.  So this would be a biased article.” 

You were so fucked. In so many ways, you were so fucked. Your fast track to the corner office with the view was going into the lap of Karina and you could see her too pretty smile now. You could picture her crossing her legs and flirting with Jeonghan and Wonwoo the entire interview; it was making your stomach turn, but you couldn’t do this now. 

“What do you mean? Are you refusing to do the interview?” 

Lifting your gaze to meet Jeonghan’s eyes, you press your lips together, shifting in place as you try to figure out how best to phrase what you need to say. 

"I'm not refusing; I just don’t think it’s how the interview is supposed to go. The entire point is to be unbiased and raw. I’m supposed to ask you questions as if I’ve just met you, but clearly." 

Smirking, Wonwoo shakes his head, moving closer to you. There was so much about you that hadn’t changed. He had beat himself up for years for losing contact with you and Jeonghan but luck changed a few years ago when he stayed at one of Jeonghan’s hotels and now here you are standing in front of him. You were always talking in circles and you needed someone to sit you down and get you to stop spinning your wheels. 

“It kinda is like we just met, well again... High school was a long time ago, Y/N.” 

– 10 years ago – 

Jeonghan grins at you as he leans against his locker, watching as you struggle to get your textbook back in its proper place. He knew he could help you but it was cute to listen to your tiny whines. You were nervous about exams and about university acceptance letters, while he was doing his best not to let it show that he was nervous about other things. 

“Why do they make them so small?” 

“So that teachers can write tardy notes, Kitten.” 

Wonwoo smirks as he steps in behind you to take your book, lifting the organizer with ease to slip the book under as you glance over your shoulder at him. Things had changed between you and your best friends over the last year of high school but none of you were ready to talk about it. 

Each of the boys had started wanting to spend more time with you. They had started standing closer to you, touching you more, and there was always something left unsaid. 

“Thanks, Woo… Jeonghan was just watching me struggle. At least I can count on one of you.” 

Laughing, Jeonghan reaches over to pinch your cheek, causing you to pout your lips and pull back from his touch and teasing. 

“Well, you show your claws when you get whiny, Kitten. It’s cute…” 

Your cheeks burning, you glance up towards the bell as it rings and becomes your saving grace. Both of the boys watch as you clear your throat, brushing your hands over the front of your outfit, before you look up at them with a nod. 

“Anyway… I will not be tardy. See you after school.” 

Watching you walk quickly away, Wonwoo leans against your locker, giving a glance towards Jeonghan, who lets out a breath as his eyes move over your frame. They were thinking the same things, but maybe it was just teenage hormones getting to them. But maybe it was something more. 

– Present – 

Letting out a breath, you step away from Jeonghan as he speaks, only for Wonwoo to move in and take your arm, leading you towards the sofa. The feeling of being back in high school, either of the men on either side of you, made it feel like the air was water. 

“Jeonghan’s right. Why are you so worried about it anyway? It’ll be a great article. I’ve read your stuff. You’re a great writer, your editor has nothing to worry about. I know I’m not worried.” 

Shrugging as a way to agree with Wonwoo, Jeonghan sits down on the other side of you, crossing his leg over his knee, his arm draped over the back of the sofa behind you. 

“You can ask me anything. I’ll answer if I don’t think I’ve ever lied to you, Kitten.” When you and Wonwoo look at him Jeonghan grins and tilts his head, adding, “I’ve skimmed around the truth.” 

Shaking your head, you look down at your bag, now resting on your lap. Maybe they were right. Maybe you could still do this; maybe this was a good thing. It could give you an edge. When you nod, your brows furrowing, Jeonghan grins at Wonwoo, lifting his brows. 

“Yeah? Not so freaked out by us anymore? Still pretty much the same people you went to school with.” 

That made you laugh, both men watching as you cleared your throat to cover it, leaning down to put your bag on the floor, taking out an iPad to take notes on before crossing your legs. Wonwoo can’t help but watch how the fabric of your skirt stretches around your thighs as Jeonghan sucks at his teeth, letting his eyes run along the buttons of your blouse before you look up to meet his eyes. 

“You aren’t the same. Isn’t that what we just said? Not in high school anymore. You are... what do you do, Jeonghan?” 

You had known Jeonghan was a chaebol but that was such an umbrella term in the business world. He could own a multitude of things and hold many titles. His lips pull up into a smile as his eyes follow your hand, pulling the pen from its holder so you can start taking down your notes. 

“My father put me in charge of all the hotels and resorts.” 

Writing his name, you start to write what he was telling you when the scale of what he had just said hits you. A soft chuckle to your right brings you back to reality as you shake your head and continue where you left off, muttering under your breath. 

“All hotels and the resorts..." 

Swallowing hard, you glance at Jeonghan to find his eyes haven't moved from you at all. It was as if he were trying to stare a hole through you or, worse, undress you with his eyes. Quickly looking away, you continue your train of thought into a question. 

“In all countries?”

“All hotels and resorts are mine. We own 15 in the United States alone. I plan to open five in Europe over the next three years. There’s a scoop for you, Kitten. Make sure you jot it down.” 

Your hand was shaking, and you could see the nerves in your handwriting as you tried to take your notes. It isn't until Jeonghan leans in a bit closer to you to look at what you are writing that you press your lips together and pause. 

“Just…Y/N, I think would be better.” 

Pursing his lips, Jeonghan meets your eyes once again before giving you a playful smile and leaning back, lifting his hand from his thigh as if he were submitting. 

“Whatever you want, Y/N. Kitten is just a hard habit to break.” 

Both watch as you flex your fingers and go back to your task, writing a few more notes before looking up to Wonwoo, who is turned more to the side to face you, his legs crossed towards you. He was breath taking, they both were but after years of seeing him on a big screen or a billboard, it was startling to see him so close once again. 

“Have a question for me?” 

Wonwoo watches you nod, your eyes dropping back to your tablet, before you take a breath and are finally able to remember how to speak. 

“Your last movie, First Snow, was a hit.” Watching Wonwoo smile, you can’t help but do the same. You knew he had been nominated for several awards and was likely being cast from the hit. “You seemed to have great onscreen chemistry with your co-star…anything blossoming from that?” 

You watch as the man in front of you laughs and shifts on the sofa to brush his hand over his mouth. With a quick shake of his head, Wonwoo’s eyes lift back to meet yours, making you feel shy once again. 

“She’s sweet, incredibly so, but no. I do hope I get to work with her in the future but as for my personal life...  Things haven’t changed much from when you knew me before.” 

That you very much doubted, your brows furrowing as you scoff, jotting down a few more words on the iPad on your lap. 

– 11 years ago – 

“Just ask her.” 

Wonwoo shook his head as he watched you smile at the tall boy with perfect teeth. He might be friends with Mingyu but that didn’t make him want to punch him any less as he and Jeonghan watched him flirt with you and worse, you flirted back. 

“She doesn’t know how you feel and that you want her to go with you to the dance if you don’t ask her.” 

Groaning, Wonwoo looked at Jeonghan, who had his arms crossed and his tongue pressed into his cheek after saying his own peace when he really had nothing he could say. 

“So does that mean you are going to do the same?” 

Shooting a look at his friend, Jeonghan rolls his eyes and turns away from the scene in front of him as Mingyu dares to let his fingers brush over yours. He wanted to do more than punch the boy. He wanted to pay him to move to a different school at this point. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the one pining like a love sick puppy.” 

“Says the dude who just looked like he was going to go in swinging just now.” 

Sighing, Jeonghan turns towards his locker, using his fist to open it rather than a normal civil way, before shrugging. 

“Whatever. She can do what she wants and so can you. One more year of this hell hole and I’m out of here and on to bigger fish.” 

You look up at the sound of Jeonghan’s fist hitting his locker, along with Mingyu's hand dropping from yours, when you mutter your best friend’s name. Everyone knew you were pretty much off limits but every once in a while someone got gutsy and tried. Mingyu had been feeling confident but he hadn’t realized how close Jeonghan and Wonwoo had been. 

“I–shit. Can we talk about the dance later, Y/N?” 

Watching you frown, barely nodding, Mingyu sighed, knowing his chances were slim to none now as you walked towards the two men who took up most of your time. 

“Jeonghan, what the hell are you doing? Did you hurt your hand?” 

Your voice pulls Wonwoo and Jeonghan from their conversation and back to reality, where you were standing right in front of them. Starting to speak, Jeonghan tries to come up with an excuse when you grab his hand, bringing it close to you to look over his knuckles to inspect the damage. 

Wonwoo just stays quiet for a moment, watching how gentle you are, blowing softly on the rough skin before placing a kiss over his knuckles and lifting your head with furrowed brows. You looked confused. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t like you knew how Jeonghan felt or how Wonwoo felt. 

“I’m okay, Kitten. I just couldn’t get the door open, so I got mad.” 

Glancing at Wonwoo, you wait for him to tell you the truth but he just sighs and nods along with what Jeonghan says, though you can tell Jeonghan is telling you a half truth. He was good at those and Wonwoo was good at following the leader. 

Reaching over to the locker, you pull up on the latch and watch it swing open easily, much to Jeonghan’s dismay. With a sigh, the boy pushes it back closed before leaning his shoulder against it, looking over yours towards Mingyu, who was pouting and watching you while talking to another tall boy named Seokmin.

“Minkyu is waiting for you.” 

Sighing, you glance over your shoulder towards him, offering the handsome boy a smile and getting one in return before you cause his to fall instantly when you turn away. 

“Mingyu, Jeonghan…  but you know that. Why are you so mean to him? He’s nice. He likes you. Wants to be as cool as you.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan lets out a scoff before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you towards the doors that would lead towards your next class but not his. Wonwoo just shakes his head, following in tow, his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“He wishes.” 

– Present –

“He’s not lying. I’ve probably dated more than him.” 

Lifting your head back towards Jeonghan, you feel your stomach tighten at his words. You shouldn’t care if either of them were dating. You were doing your job. This was something that your readers cared about. They didn’t really care about what their jobs were or what they entailed; they wanted to know who they were sleeping with. 

“Oh? Currently? On your way to finding Mrs. Yoon?” 

Jeonghan’s lips turn up in a smirk before a full grin spreads across his face. He can’t help but see the look on your face when you ask the question. Did you really want an answer to that question? 

“No, not even close. Hasn’t been a steady girl in my life since you, Kit–mm, sorry, Y/N.” 

Swallowing hard, you push your tongue against your cheek and hum as if that is a normal answer to your question. You write down part of it but omit anything about yourself, which causes Wonwoo to chuckle as he runs his fingers along the back of the sofa. 

“Giving the readers hope?” 

Jeonghan leans forward at Wonwoo’s comment to read what you have written down. You scoff at his smirk, pulling the tablet back from them both, feeling even more like you were back in high school with them both. 

“I–sort of. It’s my job. I’m supposed to give them a raw interview with two fascinating people. I’m supposed to show them the most intimate parts of those people and if there are facts like that, omitting parts that they don’t need to know could be misunderstood –" 

You suck in your breath when you feel Jeonghan’s fingers up your arm towards your shoulder as he shakes his head. A soft sigh falls from his lips as he meets your eyes and you try to finish your thought only to lose it midsentence. 

“I get it; I do. Your readers are horny. They look at successful people and dream about what it would be like to fuck them. But no matter what you omit, there is still the elephant in the room.” 

There was no elephant in the room. The room was clear of any elephants. Shaking your head, you try to ignore his fingers as Jeonghan walks them along your shoulder blade. 

“They do like that sort of thing. It sells magazines. So I will omit it. I mean, looking at this objectively, you are both ideal. Incredibly attractive, wealthy, and single.” 

Grinning at your reaction and your attempt to ignore him, Jeonghan glances over to Wonwoo, who had been watching you both like a hawk. It was getting interesting. 

“That’s kind of you to say, Kitten.” 

Blowing out a breath, you shift from Jeonghan’s wandering fingers to shoot a look at Wonwoo when he calls you the nickname. Now they were both teasing you. You were struggling to keep this professional and they knew it. This wasn’t some game like they thought it was. This was your job on the line. 

“Not my name, Wonwoo.” 

“Is to me, but my apologies, Y/N. Keep going with your questions. What’s next on your list?” 

Focus. The word is repeating in your head like a prayer. You look back down at your iPad and lick your lips as you listen to Jeonghan laugh softly next to you. God, he was the same and yet worse in many ways. He was still unbearably confident and cocky but now he was a grown man. 

Lifting his hand to rest his thumb against his teeth, Wonwoo watches your eyes narrow at Jeonghan’s reaction. He could tell you were getting annoyed. This was better than high school because he wasn’t that kid who lacked confidence.

"It's... tell me about an important event in your life that led you to where you are today.” 

Jeonghan’s brows furrow as Wonwoo tilts his head toward the question. That was a loaded topic. Pursing his lips, you watch as Wonwoo reaches up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he meets your eyes once more. 

“Do you remember when you pushed me to try out for that play senior year?” 

Your smile causes Wonwoo to mirror you. Of course you remembered it. Wonwoo had been showing interest in acting and it might have been a high school play but he had been too nervous to try it out at first. You could remember going over lines with him for hours before the audition, before you and Jeonghan sat in the auditorium in awe as he took the stage and looked like he had been born to act. 

“Really? That’s what led you to this? Playing Tony in West Side Story?” 

Still smiling, Wonwoo nods, leaning to rest his head on his palm as his elbow pushes into the back cushion of the sofa. He remembered looking down at you from the stage opening night and finding confidence when his voice wavered. You were more important to him than you would ever know. 

“Yeah… Trust me, I don’t put it on my resume.” 

A short chuckle from Jeonghan draws your eyes back over to him as he leans his head back, remembering the play and how much you had wanted Wonwoo to do it. You had been good at pushing them to be great; now he was wishing they had done the same for you. 

“I can’t imagine why, Wonwoo. Couldn’t be because I still have a shitty copy of you butchering Something’s Coming from opening night.” 

Reaching behind you, Wonwoo smacks his best friend, causing the other man to laugh and for you to lean forward, a laugh of your own, slipping from your lips. You could feel your heart tightening in your chest. You had missed Jeonghan and Wonwoo more than you could even admit to yourself. 

“You said you deleted it.” 

"Yeah, well, I lied. It makes great blackmail for when we are old and decrepit.” 

Sitting back up when the men have gone back to their "corners", you just shake your head, putting your pen back on your tablet, and trying to word Wonwoo’s answer in the best way you could without inserting yourself into it. 

“What about you, Jeonghan? What led you here?” 

Sighing, Jeonghan rolls his eyes—not at you but more at the answer he came up with—before pouting his lips a bit and looking up at the tall celiing. 

“I mean, the obvious answer is my father. My family led me here directly but honestly," 

You watch Jeonghan’s face soften, your eyes moving over his sharp jaw as you chew on your lips, until he looks back at you and scoffs again but this time it’s like he has made a discovery. 

“You.” 

Looking behind you at Wonwoo, you give him a confused look before he shrugs and gestures back at you, sending you back towards Jeonghan, who just smiles fondly. 

“I’m serious. Graduation day.” 

– 10 years ago – 

You watch as Jeonghan flicks the tassel on his graduate cap from one side to the other as he leans back in his chair. Most of the other students had left with their families apart from you, Wonwoo, and Jeonghan. Wonwoo had promised his mom to come home soon but after she saw the look on Jeonghan’s face, she told him to take his time. 

“I’m sure there was a reason he wasn’t here, Hannie…” 

Rarely did you call Jeonghan anything other than his full name but today called for all the best tactics. Today should be one of the best days of your lives and your best friend was sad. He had been so proud of the honor sash around his shoulders and the speech he was giving but the moment he stepped out on the stage and started to speak, he noticed the space reserved for his father was noticeably empty. 

“Sure, Kitten. You don’t have to try so hard to make it better. You didn’t do it.” 

He was right. It hadn’t been your fault but there was something you could do to make him smile. Leaning towards Jeonghan, catch his eye before you press a soft kiss to his cheek and hold on to his arm. As much as he denied it, you knew how much he loved skinship when it came from you or Wonwoo. 

A sigh falls from Jeonghan’s lips but his lips do pull up at the sides and Wonwoo’s do the same, knowing you were succeeding in what you were trying to do. He hated to see his best friend like this. It wasn’t fair. Jeonghan had worked his ass off to be the perfect son and he deserved so much better today. 

“Stop slobbering on me.” 

You just laugh, pressing more kisses on his warm cheek. Jeonghan groans, grabbing your arm and turning his head away from you, only for you to turn it back a bit too far, letting your lips catch his briefly. Clearing your throat, you stop instantly and drop your hands, feeling heat rising in your neck and cheeks as you look away. 

"Sorry, uh, but no, anyway... We should go get dinner before we all go home. We are fucking graduates. Full ass adults who will be going to university soon.” 

Wonwoo just stares at Jeonghan as he sits in shock from feeling your lips on his, even as you try to make everyone forget it had happened. Reaching up to touch his lips, Jeonghan watches you do a cute little dance in your chair before shaking his head and furrowing his brows. 

“I gotta get home, Kitten. I’m sure my dad is at home. I need to tell him to shove something up his ass. You know, like his legacy.” 

Calming down from your accidental kiss, you shake your head and reach for Jeonghan’s arm as he tries to stand up to leave. You knew he would regret his decisions later. Wonwoo follows your lead, shaking his head and coaxing Jeonghan back into the chair, muttering for the other to calm down. 

“I know you are upset, Jeonghan. You have every right to be, but... listen to me, okay? Seriously, look at me.” 

You wait until Jeonghan sighs, rolling his eyes to look at you, his face softening as he does, knowing he can’t stay annoyed as he looks at your pretty face. 

“If you really don’t want to work for your dad and do the business stuff, then don’t but it’s all you’ve ever talked about. So don’t throw it away because of his selfishness. Use this to fuel yourself to work harder and get what you want. Be the Yoon Jeonghan I know. 

– Present – 

“I ran off spite for a few years but eventually I got my own space and now I am doing shit on my own. He gave me my own slice, like you said he would. I worked harder every day remembering what you said.” 

Jeonghan smiles while watching your lips form into a bit of a pout. He could tell you were remembering the conversation and graduation. He remembered it just as fondly, maybe for other reasons but he also remembered dinner afterwards with you and Wonwoo. He remembered sneaking off with drinks and the promises that all three had failed to keep. 

"Anyway, that and a kiss led me here.” 

Writing down Jeonghan’s answer, you stop midsentence to scoff and glance up at him, letting out a breath, only to scoff a second time in disbelief. He surely wasn’t talking about the accidental kiss on graduation day. 

“Not a real kiss.” 

Biting his lip, Jeonghan tilts his head and narrows his eyes as Wonwoo laughs and puts his hands up when you shoot him another look. 

“I’m just…  listen, Y/N… The kiss was just that—a kiss. And an 18 year old Jeonghan... He talked about it for a while. Trust me.” 

That confession from Wonwoo made you look back at Jeonghan, who was narrowing his eyes at his best friend, only to soften them when they met yours. Lifting his hands, Jeonghan sighs once, trying to speak, before sighing again and laughing. 

“I did talk about it for a bit. I mean, clearly, I remember it well. I mean, come on, Kitten, you had to know how we felt about you.” 

Shaking your head, you sit up straighter on the sofa, looking from Jeonghan to Wonwoo for clarification as if a bomb had just gone off in the room. You knew how you felt about them and that they had teased you about it but never in a million years had you thought they had felt anything for you. 

“No, no, no, I didn’t. What? What do you mean by how you felt about me? “We?” Clarify, Yoon Jeonghan.” 

Jeonghan laughs when you use his full name and your thoughts start to spin in circles. The interview is the last thing on your mind now. Taking a breath, he reaches forward, taking your iPad from your hands and leaning to put it on the coffee table so he can have your full attention. But that only causes you to flex your fingers and then play with the end of your skirt out of nerves as you wait. 

“We went to the same school for four years, Y/N. We saw you every single day and from day one, we latched on to you. At first, it was just because you were this cute frisky girl with a sassy mouth that could keep up but then it was more about the fact that you were ours.” Glancing down at your fingers as you tug at the end of your skirt, Jeonghan reaches to wrap his fingers around your wrist to make you stop as he speaks. “Did you really not see it? How we’d chase off anyone else or get pissed off if you’d give any of them a chance?” 

Wonwoo shifts beside you, his breath closer than you had remembered it being when you feel it almost against your ear as his deeper voice chimes in to add to Jeonghan’s point.

“The stupidest thing we did was not keep our promises to keep in touch during university. Letting life get in the way... You feel him smile into his words with how close his lips are to your ear. “But I guess life has a way of correcting mistakes.” 

You glance over your shoulder, brows furrowed, ready to ask him what he means when you find Wonwoo as close as you had pictured. If you hadn’t stopped yourself, you would have found yourself in a similar situation that you had on graduation day a decade earlier, as you stopped your lips just in time, taking a breath before they could brush over Wonwoo’s. 

“I don’t know. This isn't—I could lose my job.” 

It’s Jeonghan’s hand that slides over your thigh, gripping it just hard enough to make you want to spread them, which causes you to lose your resolve and causes a breathy, soft moan to slip from between your lips and into the air. Wonwoo smiles just a few centimeters from your lips as he shakes his head and furrows his brows. 

“Fuck the job, fuck the interview. If you want it that bad, you can ask the questions afterwards. If you lose the job, they didn’t deserve you, and we will take care of you or get you whatever job you want, Kitten.” 

He wanted you to say yes or take that final step. Wonwoo wasn’t going to do it but he was giving you all the right answers. Whining, you try to quickly weigh the pros and cons, a lifetime of regrets washing over you before they fade away when you close your eyes and press your lips against Wonwoo’s with purpose. 

Jeonghan furrows his brows and bites his bottom lip hard. He wasn’t upset that it was Wonwoo you had kissed first this time. It didn’t matter to him; all that mattered was that it was happening. All that mattered was that you were here and back in their lives by some random chance and he wasn’t letting you go again. 

Pressing his fingers into your soft skin, Jeonghan groans softly against your hair as your tongue glides along Wonwoo’s and you finally let him coax your legs apart. He could feel the warmth of your pussy under your skirt and he was dying to get his hands on you, even if it was just for a moment. 

"Baby, you are so fucking pretty. You always have been but now, God, you're stunning. Never letting you out of my sight again, you understand?” 

Reaching up to turn your head from Wonwoo, Jeonghan listens to your whimpers and soft complaints but he wants your answer. When you meet his eyes, Jeonghan runs his thumb along your bottom lip and smiles at your reaction—the way your mouth parts and your eyes flutter closed for a moment only to open and meet his once again. 

“I said, do you understand?” 

One hand on your chin, the other caresses your thigh up to your panties, where Jeonghan’s fingers tease you, causing your body to jerk with each pass of his fingers. Wonwoo smiles while watching you with Jeonghan, not phased by the other man pulling you away from him. Instead, he turns his attention to your neck as he works a few of the buttons on your blouse open before sliding his hand into your shirt over the top of your bra to squeeze your breast, making you arch against his chest. 

“Answer Jeonghan, Kitten.” 

They expected you to answer a question and think clearly when you were not only living out your teenage wet dreams but also the fantasies of every female that knew either of their names? Pressing your lips together, you furrow your brows and nod, regaining your resolve, before letting out a breath along with your words. 

“I understand.” 

Jeonghan grins, leaning forward to press his lips to yours, finally claiming his prize while also rewarding you for your answer. The kiss is gentle, yet you can feel the desire behind it as his teeth catch your bottom lip, nipping at it before he pulls back with a soft groan. 

“Good, girl. Wonwoo, I want her up where I can see her.” 

You weren’t sure what Jeonghan had meant but apparently Wonwoo did, as you found yourself on your feet before your legs were around the man’s waist so he could carry you where he wanted you. Smirking against your lips, Wonwoo glances behind you, following Jeonghan to the kitchen, stopping to sit you on the counter, where he stays situated between your thighs. 

Hands slide over your thighs, and fingers bunch up your skirt, urging you to lift your hips so the material can be pushed to your waist, granting you a peck on the lips from Wonwoo. You watch as the man groans, glancing down between your legs, his left hand gripping your thigh as his right thumb traces the growing wet spot on the center of your panties. 

“So wet already. Did you ever think about doing this? You can tell me, Kitten. I won’t tell anyone else.” 

The teasing tone in his deep voice makes your breath quicken as Wonwoo steps back and you watch him pull his dress shirt from his pants. His slender fingers move over the buttons with quick precision so he can pull them from his body and toss them to the floor, leaving him shirtless in front of you. 

“I–” 

The words get caught in your throat as you stare at Wonwoo, your eyes moving over his toned abdomen and chest. You had seen him shirtless in school and then in ads and movies but you had never imagined you would see him like this. 

“Words, baby, use them.” 

Jeonghan smirks, running his fingers over your hair as he stands beside you, watching you panic over Wonwoo. He was still fully dressed, though one glance at his dress pants told you he was just as aroused as you and Wonwoo. 

“I did, many times, but I always felt bad.” 

You hear Jeonghan coo, then feel his lips press against your jaw as you lean your head to the side, watching Wonwoo lean over to kiss your thighs. His fingers scratch along your thighs up to your hips before they finally press under the elastic of your pants and start to shimmy them down your legs to your feet. 

“You didn’t have to feel bad. I was doing the same thing and I know Wonwoo was too. We will just make up for lost time, right?” 

Jeonghan whispers the last of his words against your ear and you can only moan out a yes to not only the feeling of his hot breath against the shell of your ear, but also Wonwoo’s tongue running along your slit in one fluid motion. 

Leaning your head back, you gasp out Wonwoo’s name, reaching your hand down to thread your fingers through his wavy hair as Jeonghan smirks against your ear at your reaction. Glancing between your legs to watch, he furrows his brows, feeling his cock throb in his pants, not only to the visual of Wonwoo eating you out but also to the sounds coming out of your mouth and the wet sound of Wonwoo’s mouth on your pussy. 

“Fuck… He’s right; you are wet. Can I feel too?” 

Slipping his fingers between your folds and Wonwoo’s mouth, Jeonghan is surprised that your thighs jerk to his touch. That wasn't your reaction to Wonwoo. Lifting his head, Wonwoo holds your legs and takes a breath as Jeonghan’s fingers circle your clit, only for you to moan and slide your hips back from his touch shyly. 

“Your fingers are so cold." 

Jeonghan smiles, tilting his head and pulling his fingers back to rub them together, feeling your slick between them. He knew his hands were cold but he hadn’t expected you to have such a reaction to them. Glancing down at Wonwoo, Jeonghan just winks, turning from you both towards the cabinet to take down a glass and moving to the fridge to get ice and water as Wonwoo’s lips press to your thighs, making you split your attention between the two. 

“What are you doing, Jeonghan?” 

“Having fun, Kitten. What are you doing?” 

Your eyes follow Jeonghan as he sits the glass down beside you before dipping two of his fingers into the ice water. His eyes meet yours as a darker smirk takes over his pretty lips and you whine, feeling Wonwoo’s mouth back on your pussy, his fingers digging into your hips and pulling you back towards his tongue. 

“I–shit. What if I can’t handle it?” 

Jeonghan bites at his lip, the smile ever present, as he finally takes his fingers from the cold water. 

“Just tell me and I’ll move them, but I’ll make it worth it. I promise… Wonwoo, lean back.” 

Hearing his name, Wonwoo groans a bit frustrated, already feeling drunk off your pussy. He wanted to make you cum on his tongue and with how you had started to moan, he felt like you were getting close. Still, he wasn’t going to argue with Jeonghan so he licks his lips and leans back a few inches to watch Jeonghan touch his ice cold fingers to your clit and your reaction as you try to close your thighs around his head and the fingers. 

“Oh my god!” 

The cold sends a shock through your body that you weren’t fully expecting and when Jeonghan traps your clit between two fingers, squeezing it ever so slightly, you feel like the counter is going to break under your fingers. 

“Jeon—Jeonghan!” 

As quickly as you say his name, Jeonghan moves his fingers and uses his free hand to push Wonwoo’s head back to your waiting pussy. You feel hot breath and a warm tongue running over your now chilled folds. Smiling against your skin at the feeling, Wonwoo can’t help the excitement he feels at working together with Jeonghan. He enjoys making you feel good, especially as you grind against his mouth. 

“See? You liked it, didn’t you?” 

All you can do is nod as you feel your orgasm on the precipice. Jeonghan watches your face and listens to your breath starting to hitch when he tugs at Wonwoo’s hair, pulling him back, and listens to your curses as your orgasm is pulled from you. 

Ice cold fingers slide between your folds and towards your dripping entrance, where Jeonghan works two into you, curling them upwards. Quickly, you forget how upset you are at him as you see stars and your nails dig into his forearm, cum seeping around his fingers as your orgasm takes control of your senses. 

Wonwoo just watches, entranced by what is happening as your thighs start to shake and Jeonghan’s fingers thrust into you. He watches as you roll your hips towards the man’s palm and Jeonghan groans your name like a soft, sweet prayer. 

“Here… I know you want it.” 

Nodding, Wonwoo leans forward, licking the cum from Jeonghan’s fingers before grabbing your hips again and running his tongue along your folds, cleaning you of every last trace of your cum. Your mind spins with what you have just experienced and watched as you find yourself leaning back on the counter, your chest rising and falling quickly. 

It is Jeonghan who pulls Wonwoo from between your thighs as you whimper from overstimulation, tears running from the corners of your eyes. It isn’t even that he’s concerned that you aren’t enjoying it; it is more that he doesn’t want his friend to miss the image. 

Wonwoo just groans, running his palm over his wet mouth and chin before leaning down over you and the counter to capture your lips. His thumb is running along your temple to push away the tears as he mutters against your lips about never leaving you and never losing you again. 

“Mm, see, he shares the sentiment, Kitten. We have to get you to bed or I’m gonna fuck you on the counter.” 

You weren’t against it but it seemed both of the men were. You quickly found yourself moving through rooms and on a large bed, then stripped of your clothing. Jeonghan was the one between your thighs now; his clothes were also discarded with yours somewhere between the kitchen and the bedroom. He let his eyes move over your body in wonder as his hands followed the same path as if he were trying to imprint it on his brain. 

“So perfect… and ours?” 

In truth, your relationship status hadn’t been discussed before any of this started and also Jeonghan hadn’t cared. Now, with you lying on his bed, looking like every dream he had ever had of you, as Wonwoo slid in beside you to press his lips to the top of your breasts, he was starting to wonder if you really would be there at the end of the day. 

“Yours.” 

A single word left Jeonghan breathless. He hadn’t seen any rings on any important fingers but he hadn’t been in your life in a long time. He didn’t know what your life was without him but now, as far as he was concerned, there wouldn’t be a time without you. 

"Fuck, I need you. Can I?” 

You lift your hips as Jeonghan’s hands slide along your inner thighs and along your legs to your hips. You knew what he was asking and there was nothing you wanted more. Nodding, you whine into a moan as Wonwoo sucks at your skin, your fingers once again threading into his hair and tugging at his scalp. 

Lining himself up with you, Jeonghan shakes his head, realizing what was really happening and how lucky he was as he slowly pushes his tip in. With his eyes on your face, Jeonghan watches your lips fall open at the stretch, his fingers digging into your skin as he angles his hips, feeling your soft, warm walls enclose around his cock. 

“Feel good, Kitten?” 

Wonwoo smiles against your skin as he speaks between kisses, working them up your breasts towards your neck. Wonwoo nods along with you, feeling Jeonghan’s hips meet yours as he bottoms out. The stretch is delicious and your brain is a mixture of spinning and empty. While your brain wants to freak out over what's happening, the only thing you can do is just feel and enjoy the drag of Jeonghan’s cock as he starts to thrust into you at an even pace. 

His head falling forward as he pulls your hips up more, bracing your weight with his hands, Jeonghan quickens his pace, feeling your pussy throbbing around his length. You already felt better than he had ever imagined and he had dreamed about it many times before. He had tried to substitute the dream girl in his head before and none of them were living up to this now. There was only you and he could already feel himself tightening up from his stomach to his thighs. 

“God, baby… cum on my cock. Give me that. At least once.” 

Jeonghan had said you were theirs but just in case this was a one time thing, he needed to feel you cum around him at least once in his life. Sliding his right hand between your legs, he uses his thumb to massage your clit in tight circles while watching you throw your head back and your fingers scratch at the bedding. Jeonghan just groans your name as he feels your walls tighten around him and then the warm, slick feeling of your cum makes each of his thrusts all that more delicious. 

A moment later, you feel your ass lowered back to the bed and Jeonghan pulls from you before his warm cum paints your thighs. The sound of his soft grunts and groans dances off the walls like music as your eyes move over his body to his hand. You watch as his fists over his cock hard and fast for a moment longer before he lets out a long, soft breath. Smiling, Jeonghan feels your leg running along the side of his when he opens his eyes to find you and Wonwoo looking at him. 

“I made a mess. I can start the shower…” 

You can only laugh as Jeonghan rolls from the bed, leaving you in Wonwoo’s arms, his lips gently pressing to the side of your neck. Wonwoo’s brows furrow and a groan slips from between his lips as your fingers wrap around his heavy cock, lazily stroking him as the sounds of water drift in from the attached bathroom. 

“I’m too wound up, Y/N… I won’t last long. Shit…” 

Pressing your thumb against his slit, you take your hand away, leaving Wonwoo breathless as you sit up and take his hand, pulling him from the bed. A look of confusion in the man’s eyes, along with a slight pout on his lips from seemingly being denied, is replaced by a smile when you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you as Jeonghan lifts a brow to the scene in front of him. 

With your hand back around Wonwoo’s shaft, you feel him gasp into your mouth as you pull away from him once again and smile at Jeonghan as he opens the shower door for you, letting you and Wonwoo in first before following. 

“You are being mean to Wonwoo, Kitten...  after he cleaned you up so nicely with his mouth?”

“I’ll make it better, promise.” 

Jeonghan starts to speak but is rendered speechless when you move to your knees in the shower in front of Wonwoo, who silently curses, lifting his hand to run it through his hair. With the water running along his back, Wonwoo leans his head back into the stream of water with a long, deep groan when you wrap your lips around his head and take him into your warm mouth. 

He had wanted to fuck you but this would work too. Unlike Jeonghan, he was almost certain this wasn’t a one time thing. He was going to make sure of it, especially now as your pretty hand stroked his cock under your mouth as you moaned around him. He had told you he was wound up and he hadn’t been lying. 

“Shit… shit! Too good… babe. Gonna cum. Slow down.” 

You had no intention of slowing down. You wanted Wonwoo to cum. Just as much as he wanted to taste you, you wanted to taste him. So when he told you to slow down, instead you moved your hand and took him as deep in your mouth as you could, letting his tip nearly graze your throat. The action pushes Wonwoo over the edge, his hands gripping for whatever is closest, one being your hair and the other being Jeonghan’s arm, as he cums hard into your mouth. 

Closing your eyes, you moan around Wonwoo as you pull back to just his tip, letting the last of his cum drip into your mouth before you sit back on your feet and swallow most of it, just a bit seeping from the corner of your lips. Jeonghan stares at Wonwoo for a moment longer before looking down at you and groaning, feeling blood start to work its way back to his cock when he seems cum dripping down to your chin. 

Tugging his hand free from Wonwoo’s grasp, Jeonghan takes a deep breath, reaching down to swipe his thumb over your chin, collecting the cum, before pushing it back into your mouth and letting you suck it clean. Willing himself to not get hard becomes even harder as he curses under his breath and smiles at you in disbelief. You were even more perfect than he had dreamed. 

“Both of us made a mess of you, Kitten. Only fair we clean you up, huh?” 

Your cheeks warm as you come down from the high of everything that had happened. You look at both of the men as Wonwoo helps you back to your feet. His hand runs over your back, spreading body wash, as Jeonghan does the same to your front, paying extra attention to your thighs where his cum still lingered. 

“This is crazy…” 

Jeonghan’s brow shoots up at your soft words like a puppy hearing a new word. You were starting to panic. The shock was setting in. Shaking his head, the man steps closer, running his hands over your arms before leaning in to gently press a kiss on your lips. 

“It’s not. It makes sense. We’ve always made sense. We were just too young and dumb to realize this. We just had to meet again in a different life to see it.” 

Pouting on Jeonghan’s lips, you feel Wonwoo’s body close to yours; neither man is willing to let you run away from them, knowing you too well despite all the years of separation. You wanted to believe this could work. You wanted it to work. Sighing, you lean your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder, letting Jeonghan look at you with a soft smile on his lips as you speak. 

“I’m so getting fired.” 

Laughing at your words, Jeonghan shrugs, running his hands along your wet arms as Wonwoo smiles, leaning to kiss your cheek and hugging you tighter to him. Lifting his hand, Jeonghan pinches your cheek like he had so many times in high school to tease you, feeling your warm cheek under his touch.  

“I might be biased but I think we are worth it.” 

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

[steddiealltheway]

It's Cass Day!!!! Happy happy happy happy birthday @henderdads. i love you so so much, and I'm so thankful that you let me plot all my fics and ficlets (including this one ha!) in your dms. (and of course, I'm thankful for you forever and always for everything). I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful birthday :))))

Wednesday afternoons are Steve’s favorite afternoon out of the whole week.

There’s something about pushing a squeaky cart around the local grocery store and making small talk with the Wednesday regulars - a gossipy book club of moms who do their shopping at the same time so they have more time to complain about their husbands - that really fills Steve heart. (Or maybe it’s just the slight bitchy side of him that loves to rag on Elizabeth’s husband Tom who really needs to get his head out of his ass and appreciate the beauty in front of him, and of course he can’t forget Charles, Lisa’s dick of a husband who apparently doesn’t know what a date night is, oh! And Margaret’s husband Al… and really, he could go on about these husbands for hours without getting tired of it)

Really, he loves the routine of it all. And the way the women dote on him for being so kind to his girlfriend back home - which he constantly reminds them is not his girlfriend. But he sometimes wishes the groceries in his cart and the scribbled list in his hand was for someone he could go back home to greet with a kiss. (After giving Robin a hug of course, because in any fantasy, some of those things on that list and in the cart are always going to be for Robin).

But really, it would be nice to have someone to brag about to the group. Maybe bring up their spirits that love is not lost and-

Steve stops in his tracks, all thoughts gone from his head as he does a double take at the magazine rack near the checkout. And yeah, he knows that Corroded Coffin is popular. Hell, he’s seen Eddie’s face on the same rack at least five times before. But never like this.

The picture on the front page is taken at a lower angle, with Eddie clad in leather pants and a tight mesh black shirt that might be a crop top, but Steve can’t tell with the way Eddie’s guitar is covering his midriff, hands flying over the frets, showing off silver rings glimmering under the stage lights including the one that Steve helped Dustin pick out for him as a celebratory gift. But as Steve’s eyes trace over Eddie’s bare arms and the stark black tattoos, he’s led to wild curls perfectly framing Eddie’s face which stares down at the cords, mouth parted in an ‘o’ shape and eyebrows knitted together in concentration in a way that makes Steve feel weak in the knees.

And Steve’s suddenly hit with the question: Why didn’t anyone tell him that Eddie was hot???

He snatches the magazine off the rack before he can even really think about it, and tries not to think of what the moms will say about him when he leaves.

Maybe they’ll stop assuming he has a girlfriend at home at least.

During his drive home, he can’t help but think about the magazine laying between the loaf of bread and carton of ice cream that were packed together by the newest bag boy - which the ladies have a lot to say about, but Steve can’t think of anything besides that damn picture.

Once he’s back at the apartment, he puts the groceries away at an alarmingly fast rate, before making his way to the couch and laying back with the magazine in his hands.

It’s nice to see Eddie on the front cover of a magazine without it being attached to some weird scandal that Eddie had nothing to do with. Usually it’s an ill timed photo because he always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But this time…

Steve let’s out a deep breath and flips through the magazine, hoping that there’s some type of interview with more pictures that he can secretly stare at and panic about later.

There’s a bunch of boring looking articles and ads until he spots a page with bright red lettering and a number of pictures. Steve can’t help but wet his lips when he opens the page to find a picture of Eddie smiling at something off camera, looking totally different from the front cover. He just looks like… Eddie.

Yet, Steve finds his heart racing even harder at this picture, missing those dimples and that glimmer of mischief in Eddie’s eyes that’s usually directed at him. And Steve suddenly wonders what or who Eddie's looking at, feeling a bloom of jealousy in his chest.

He glances away from the picture and scans the page for another one. He smiles when he sees Eddie with the rest of his band mates, leaning heavily on Jeff while pulling his signature expression, nearly elbowing Jeff in the ribs to do his devil horns.

Steve laughs at Jeff’s face scowling down at him while Gareth and Frank cackle beside them. He wonders when they’ll be back in town.

Wait.

Steve dog ears the page before running up to his calendar where Robin had written “Dustin’s favorite day ever” on the upcoming Friday.

“Oh no,” Steve mutters to himself. That’s way too damn soon for Eddie to come home after Steve’s realization. He needs to give him at least two weeks to panic and process.

Okay, if Eddie was there with him, the panicking and processing would probably happen in two hours- no, minutes- maybe even seconds. But giving Steve two days is not the right amount of time. That’s just enough time for Steve to really start and settle into the panic. But hey, maybe he can dedicate the next twenty-four hours to panicking and the twenty-four hours after that to processing. Right?

Absolutely. He can do this.

-:-:-:-:-:-

"Robin, I can't do this."

Robin rolls her eyes at him. "I can't believe one picture wrecked you."

"It's not my fault! It's the damn photographer and whoever put that picture on the front cover," Steve complains, running a hand through his hair. "They're the ones who made me think of him like that."

"Uh huh."

Steve glances over at Robin who looks completely engrossed in painting her nails a deep purple color that looks black from where Steve is standing. He glances at himself in the mirror, nervously styling his hair before picking up the magazine from where it has made a permanent home on the coffee table. He flops down on the couch next to Robin who yelps and groans, "You made me smudge my nail polish!"

"We have more important things to worry about than the state of your nail polish."

Robin carefully cleans around the edge of her nail, stained with the dark color before turning to Steve. "Yes, the sudden realization that Eddie is hot is very important to me."

"You know what I mean," Steve sighs, leaning back against the couch as he opens the magazine to his favorite picture of Eddie in this edition. He looks at it for a moment, immediately closing it when he realizes he's smiling.

Robin blows on her nails and frowns before glancing back at Steve. "Okay. He's going to be here in less than an hour. How can I help you? Although, I really don't think you'll need my help at all."

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, a pinch forming between his brows.

Robin gives him a look. "You're going to act weird around him. He's going to eventually pick up on it. And then you're going to confess all these feelings you're having and then..." Robin has a sudden look of realization and immediate disappointment. "Then, I'm going to have to find somewhere else to stay tonight since you told Eddie he could stay here on the couch, which is not going to happen after your little confession."

"He's going to leave?" Steve asks quickly in confusion and slight panic.

Robin huffs, "No, he's going to be staying in your bed. And I really do not want to hear that."

Steve frowns. "You don't even know if he thinks I'm hot."

A look passes over Robin's face, first humor, then a bit of confusion, disbelief, and, once again, disappointment. "Steve," she asks, grabbing his hand, eyes staring hard into his. "This whole time you've had the magazine, you never read the interview?" Robin asks as if it's the most important question she's ever asked him.

"Why would I read it?" Steve asks with a shake of his head. When Robin's jaw drops, he gets the sudden message that he is definitely missing something. He snatches up the magazine and flips it open, somehow not getting to the interview right away although he was sure that he opened it to that page so much that it permanently creased the spine.

Just as he gets to it. There's a loud, persistent knock on the door.

Steve's and Robin's eyes meet in a panic. "Hide the magazine," Robin all but hisses as she makes it to the door raising her voice to say, "We have neighbors! Keep it down, dingus!"

Steve looks around, wondering if he can shove the magazine under the couch, but he knows Eddie would somehow see it in his antics. When he spots the stack of magazines on their side table, he rushes to put the magazine right in the middle of them. Hiding in plain sight. Perfect.

He stands up as soon as the door swings open, trying not to look guilty and failing miserably, only to breathe a sigh of relief when he realizes it's only Dustin. "Henderson," he says with a goofy smile launching into their handshake and ending it with a quick laugh, knocking off Dustin's hat to ruffle his hair.

When Dustin starts complaining about his hat being on the floor, Steve bends down to pick it up, only for a pale, ring-clad hand to grab onto it at the same time Steve does.

Steve glances up and locks eyes with Eddie. His heart starts to pound at an alarming rate as he takes in the familiar deep brown irises, moving on to take in the slight blush on Eddie's cheeks alongside a wide smile. "Steeeve Harrington," Eddie drawls out, the way he does when he hasn't seen him in a while.

"Munson," Steve says with a nod, a wide smile tugging at his lips that he tries to push down, as he always does when it comes to Eddie as if pretending not to care. The same way he does when he's trying to get someone to like him...

Oh.

Shit, he doesn't just think he's hot. He likes him. Hell, he's liked him for a long time even. And now he has even less time to panic about that.

Steve glances up, finding that Eddie has stood up, hat still between their hands as he stares down confusedly at Steve. He offers a hand, and Steve takes it, easily being pulled up into his space. He lingers close to Eddie, eyes dipping down to his lips, realizing how much he wants- needs this.

He glances up at Eddie, finding his pupils blown wide and his brow furrowed. And Steve finally feels that electricity that he's been searching months- no, years for.

"Am I getting my hat back?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.

Steve and Eddie both shove the hat over at the same time, eyes reluctantly leaving each other, only for Steve to see Robin giving him an unimpressed look. He can practically see her trying to figure out who she's going to call to spend the night with.

Steve glances back at Eddie and rushes out, "It's- uh, good to see you again."

Eddie grabs a strand of hair and pulls it in front of his face, kicking nothing as he says, "You miss me, Steve?"

Steve shakes his head automatically, "No." He turns to Dustin and asks him when the others are getting there, but his question is answered when the door opens behind them again.

"Do you guys knock?" Robin asks, stealing the words out of Steve's mouth.

"Do you guys lock your door?" Mike snarks back.

Steve sighs and moves to Robin's side, watching as the kids all greet Eddie excitedly. "Why don't they greet us like that?" Steve quietly bitches.

"Because we're not famous and gone all the time," Robin answers with a frown. "By the way, tonight is going totally as I planned."

Steve rolls his eyes. "No, it is not. I have been acting completely normally around him."

"Yeah, because you two have the tendency to eye fuck each other for an uncomfortable amount of time." Robin pauses and considers what she said. "Actually, I take that back. You two are acting completely normal."

"Since when do we-"

"Hey," Eddie says, successfully cutting Steve off, "When the pizzas get here, I'm paying."

Robin nudges Steve in the side after a few seconds pass, and Steve can't help but stare at the man instead of processing anything he said. "Hmm?"

"I'm paying for the pizza you all ordered," Eddie says, brows still furrowed. "Are you okay?"

Steve nods and crosses his arms. "Yes, it's just that we didn't order any pizza."

"But Dustin said..." Eddie trails off and glances at the kids. "Those little shits."

"Someone needs to give them a stern talking to."

Eddie raises his brows. "Are you shirking your co-parenting duties while I'm away?"

Steve huffs out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm keeping your sheep in line."

Eddie offers him a big smile and leans in to say, "Sorry, I can't be here often, sweetheart."

Steve shoves him away with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the way his heart flutters at the nickname. "Go do your part and entertain them."

"And pay for the food!" Eddie reminds him yet again, walking toward the group, eyes not leaving Steve.

"My hero," Steve says, taking a page from Eddie's book of dramatics by crossing his hands over his heart and fluttering his lashes.

Eddie stops in his tracks, looking over him before shaking his head and going to the table where everyone is setting up.

"That was painful to witness," Robin says, scaring the shit out of Steve. She crosses her arms. "Did you really forget I was here?" When Steve doesn't respond, she walks away, muttering, "Unbelievable."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, willing his heart to slow down before he has to sit through this long-ass campaign - that he secretly really enjoys, but no one except Robin will ever know.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few hours later, Steve finds himself giving the kids hugs as they rush out his door, nearly missing their curfew. When they make their way to Eddie, he whispers to Robin, "See, the night didn't go as planned at all."

Robin raises her eyebrows at him and whispers back, "Yeah, you're not going to act weird at all when you two are alone."

Steve gives her a panicked look. "What do you mean- you're not leaving are you?"

Robin throws her hands up in a shrug as she backs up into her room, leaving the door open as she very obviously packs an overnight bag. Steve wonders if there is any way to stop her without alerting Eddie.

"What's Buckley doing?" Eddie asks, startling Steve. Eddie reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay? You've been on edge all night."

Steve nods automatically. "Yeah, I'm fine." And yeah, he is fine. And he has not been on edge at all because that would mean that Robin is right.

Speak of the devil... "I'm heading out tonight! You two have fun," Robin says with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow." Before Steve or Eddie can stop her, she's already out the door, leaving them entirely alone. Steve doesn't even remember when the kids all left.

"I'm guessing you know what that's about," Eddie says, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs as he stares at the door.

"No idea," Steve replies, making his way back to the dining area to clean up the remaining mess the teens made, and really he was going to have to give them another lecture about cleaning up after themselves.

"Steve," Eddie says softly.

Steve hums in response but doesn't dare to look his way as he stacks up various empty plastic cups.

"Steve," Eddie tries again.

And Steve knows that tone. Knows that if he fully engages, Eddie will want to have a serious conversation which is not something they often do. So he just keeps cleaning until there's nothing left to do except brush imaginary crumbs off the table.

"Steve," Eddie says, voice impossibly close to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns to him, heart skipping a beat when he finds Eddie hovering in his space.

"What's going on?" Eddie asks gently.

Steve shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing." He quickly moves away from Eddie, grabbing a napkin off one of the kitchen counters and tossing it into the trash on his way to the living room.

"Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm not," Steve says, resting his hands on his hips in the same way he does when the kids start to annoy him.

Eddie raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, staring but not saying anything.

Steve stares back, jutting his hip out in a show of how adamant he is about his answer.

After a few tense seconds pass by, Eddie slowly walks closer to him, and Steve fights for his eyes to not flicker down to his lips. When Eddie is within arms reach, he leans forward. "Steve, what is wrong?"

Steve shrugs nonchalantly, but his eyes betray him and flicker to the stack of magazines beside the couch. He tries to keep his features carefully blank, but he sees the moment Eddie realizes there is something significant about that glance.

Before Steve can stop him, Eddie is diving down to the magazines, snatching up the whole stack in his arms. Steve moves forward to grab them, only to realize his error when Eddie scoots back and smiles wildly. "This is it, isn't it? What, did you hide a filthy magazine inside here or something?"

"Eddie..." Steve warns, standing above him, hands still on his hips.

Eddie smiles before turning his eyes to the stack and leafing through them. Steve moves down quickly, knocking the magazines out of his hands as he practically straddles Eddie. He stares down at him, eyes wide, about to move back when he notices Eddie's eyes resting on his stomach.

Steve glances down between them only to see the image of Eddie on the front cover staring back at him.

"Shit, I didn't know they released that yet," Eddie says, laying fully back, hands dragging over his face. He lets them rest there before spreading his fingers to ask, "You read the interview, didn't you?"

"No," Steve says honestly.

Eddie frowns and props himself up on his elbows. "When did you get this?"

"Wednesday." And curse his damn mouth for rambling without his permission.

"You got this two days ago but haven't read the interview?" Eddie's expression shifts from fearful to cocky. "Steve Harrington, did you buy this just to stare at me?"

"No," Steve says, crossing his arms.

Eddie sits up fully, and Steve becomes very aware of the way he's still sitting on top of Eddie's thighs. "Did you get all flustered about this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine teasingly.

Steve's eyes flicker to the front cover again, and his lips suddenly feel very dry. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. He glances back at Eddie and shrugs. "You look fine."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a bad liar?"

"Has anyone ever told you you need to get your ego in check?"

Eddie smirks at him. "Why would I need to do that when I know Steeeeve Harrington bought the magazine with my face on it?"

"Stop saying my name like that," Steve says, leaning forward trying to be menacing, but only satisfying Eddie by getting closer to him.

"Why? Steeev-" Eddie's cut off when Steve suddenly moves forward and kisses him, hands flying up into his curls to pull him closer.

Steve stills before pulling back, searching Eddie's eyes.

"You...?" Eddie asks before raking a hand through his hair. "You actually bought it to stare at me?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You already knew that since I'm 'such a bad liar,'" Steve says adding air quotes.

"I was hoping you were. Christ, Steve, this?" Eddie asks, holding up the magazine.

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "You look hot!"

"Christ," Eddie says again, this time dropping the magazine to pull Steve into another kiss. He breaks it to mumble, "I can't believe you haven't read the damn interview." His hands run through Steve's hair messing up the strands before he pulls back suddenly. "Wait."

"Yeah?" Steve asks as Eddie's eyes practically glaze over in panic.

Eddie's chest heaves for a second before he says, "Fuck, you bought it because you thought I'm hot not because... fuck." He looks away from Steve and stares down at the magazine as if it personally offended him.

"Huh?" Steve asks, knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor. He climbs off of Eddie with a groan, but Eddie must take it wrong because he almost immediately stands up.

"Sorry, it's stupid," Eddie says with a humorless laugh. "Hey, do you think Buckley will be upset if I take her bed for the night? It's been a long day, and I'm about ready to clonk out."

Steve can feel his face morph into an expression of bewilderment. "Eddie, what?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Yeah, you're right. Dumb idea. Robin would kill me. I'll take the couch like usual."

Steve carefully stands and steps into Eddie's space, but Eddie sidesteps him easily. He watches as he flops down on the couch, refusing to look at him.

Steve's eyes settle back on the magazine, reaching down to grab it to find whatever the hell is in that interview.

"Steve, please don't."

Steve ignores Eddie the same way he ignored him, opening the magazine to the same page his eyes have landed on several times before. His eyes settle on the image of Eddie before moving to the words, skimming before he finds his own name staring back at him. He backtracks, looking at the question and answer.

Do you guys have any sources of inspiration?

Jeff: Oh, Eddie sure does.

Frank: He has what you might call a muse back at home.

Eddie: Please shut up.

Gareth: A beautiful muse with the most beautiful hair you've ever seen.

Eddie: Please stop talking about Stevie.

Jeff: He's just shy when it comes to his little crush.

Eddie: Next question, please.

Steve glances up at Eddie who sits red-faced on the couch. He clears his throat. "They told me they would cut it out entirely, but then they reached out later saying it was too good not to publish, but they did me the favor of changing your name to something more feminine so they didn't out me. Still fucked though. I'm sorry you got pulled into this mess."

Steve looks back at the magazine and then at Eddie. "Is it true?"

Eddie groans and lays back on the couch dramatically. "Please don't make me answer that. I've gotten enough shit from the guys, and I know you don't feel that way about me. It's okay that you only find me hot, I'll take what I can."

It hits Steve all at once what Eddie's sudden dramatics are about. "Oh my god. Eddie, I like you, too!"

Eddie's head pops up. "What?"

Steve turns the magazine to him and points at the picture of Eddie laughing. "This is what I've been so flustered and weird about. Yes, the front cover made me realize that, hey, I find you really attractive. But I've been staring at this picture for way longer, and I didn't know why until you got here tonight. And it hit me that I like you. I think I have for a long time, but I just didn't connect the dots before."

"You like me?" Eddie echos, dumbfounded.

Steve laughs. "Yes, I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you."

"That's a fucking relief," Eddie says, scrambling off the couch and racing to pull Steve into another kiss.

Steve smiles into the kiss, pulling Eddie as close to him as possible as Eddie attempts to do the same.

"I'm going to give that photographer the biggest tip ever," Eddie says breaking the kiss for a moment only to kiss him again.

Steve smiles so wide that he can barely kiss Eddie back. When they break away, Steve says, "I'm going to have to buy another."

"Why?"

"I have to get the front picture and the interview framed," Steve says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course," Eddie says with a laugh before wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him in close. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Steve replies.

They hold each other for a while, not willing to break the moment until a sudden thought has Steve groaning.

"What?" Eddie asks, pulling back to look at him.

"Robin was right."

Eddie smiles. "When is she not?"

"Never," Steve answers simply.

They stand in each other's arms just happy to be so close, taking each other in as if it's for the first time. Steve wonders what to tell the Wednesday regulars and how they'd respond if he introduced Eddie to them. He thinks back to Lisa's comments about how the group should just date each other and how Sarah had responded with a little too much enthusiasm, and Steve thinks things will be just fine.

"What are you thinking about?"

Steve shakes his head with a smile. "What are you doing this Wednesday?" he asks, making a mental note to add two frames, another magazine, and Robin's favorite ice cream to the list.

"Anything you want," Eddie replies easily.

And with that, Steve finds himself looking forward to his Wednesday afternoon even more than usual.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Need more This or That especially with Nando x wife reader!!!

A Quiet Heart and a Racing Legend

Wors Count: 812

Pairing: Fernando Alonso x wife!reader

Summary: Y/n a shy individual steps into the spotlight for a televised interview, accompanied by her husband, Fernando Alonso. With Fernando’s loving support and playful banter, the interview turns into a heartwarming experience, showcasing the deep bond and shared humor between the couple.

______________________________________________________________

You had always been shy, preferring the quiet corners of life, far away from the spotlight. But today, you were sitting on a plush sofa, facing a camera crew, with millions of people ready to watch the interview that was about to unfold. And beside you, exuding calm confidence, was your husband—Fernando Alonso, the two-time Formula 1 world champion.

Fernando noticed your nervousness and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His touch was warm and familiar, and it instantly made you feel a bit more at ease. You offered him a small, nervous smile, which he returned with a grin that could make the sun look dull.

The interviewer, a woman with a friendly face and a notebook full of questions, leaned forward, clearly excited about the segment she was about to introduce.

"Thank you both for joining us today! We've got a fun little game to play—it's a classic 'This or That' challenge. Y/N, are you ready?" she asked, her tone warm and encouraging.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks flush slightly. "I think so," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fernando leaned in closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. "Don't worry, cariño," he whispered, "it’ll be fun. And I’ll help you out if you need it."

The interviewer smiled at the obvious affection between the two of you. "Alright, let's start easy! Y/N, would you prefer a quiet evening at home or a night out on the town?"

You hesitated, glancing at Fernando for a moment. "Definitely a quiet evening at home," you said, relaxing a bit now that the question was something you could easily answer. "I think we both enjoy our peace and quiet after all the noise of the race weekends."

Fernando nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. There's nothing better than some good food, a movie, and just relaxing together. And I get to hear Y/N's commentary on whatever we're watching, which is always the highlight," he added with a wink, making you blush and laugh softly.

The interviewer chuckled. "Okay, Nando, this one’s for you. Would you rather be invisible or be able to fly?"

Fernando pretended to think deeply about this. "Well, I already go quite fast, so flying would just be overkill," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I’d choose invisibility. Then I could sneak up on Y/N whenever she’s lost in a book and see her jump," he teased, nudging you playfully.

You rolled your eyes at him, but there was a smile on your face. "You already do that, and it's not nice!" you protested, poking him in the side. "He thinks it’s funny when I get startled, but one of these days, I’m going to give him a taste of his own medicine."

Fernando laughed, clearly enjoying your shy but playful side coming out. "Oh, I’m sure you will. But we both know I’ll be ready," he said, still grinning.

The interviewer looked delighted with the easygoing banter between you two. "Alright, Y/N, here’s a tricky one. Would you rather always know what Fernando is thinking, or have him always know what you're thinking?"

You bit your lip, considering the question carefully. "I think... I'd rather always know what he's thinking," you said finally. "Not that I don’t trust him, but sometimes he has that look on his face, and I just want to know what’s going on in his mind."

Fernando raised an eyebrow, looking amused. "Oh really? And here I thought you enjoyed the mystery."

You shrugged, feeling a bit more confident now. "Well, maybe. But you’re not always as mysterious as you think you are, Nando."

The interviewer laughed along with you both. "It’s clear you two have a lot of fun together. Last question—Fernando, would you rather win one more world championship or spend an entire month on a deserted island with Y/N?"

Fernando didn’t even hesitate. "The island with Y/N, of course," he said, his voice sincere. "Championships are great, but they’re not what makes life truly special. It’s the moments we share that matter the most."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt your shyness melt away completely. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. "Nando," you murmured, feeling both embarrassed and touched.

He looked down at you, his expression softening. "It’s true," he said simply, and you knew that he meant every word.

The interview wrapped up shortly after, and as the cameras were turned off and the crew began to pack up, Fernando turned to you, his eyes full of warmth.

"See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You shook your head, smiling up at him. "No, it wasn’t. Especially not with you beside me."

He grinned and leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Always, cariño. Always."

[ale-wosofan]

broken

Alexia x R

R is struggling but she’s not sure why or how to fix it. Will she finally be honest with her girlfriend about how she’s feeling?

warnings: little bit of angst (+fluff), implied adhd

a/n: English is not my first language (I’m aware how much of a cliché that is) so there might be some mistakes; feel free to correct them :) Here I talk about my personal experience with adhd, please don’t use this to self-diagnose, as it is not the same for everyone. Enjoy!

-----

The first time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, you’re at home with your girlfriend.

“Hey, princesa. Have you seen that there’s a new season of that TV show you like?” Alexia asks you once you’ve sat down on the sofa.

“Oh, I didn’t know,” you shrug settling on top of your girlfriend and kissing her cheek.

Alexia looks a little surprised at your answer but starts running her hands up and down your back nonetheless.

“How come? I thought you said it was, and I’m quoting you, the best show you’ve ever seen.”

But you don’t answer. You don’t really know what happened, you’re just not that passionate about that particular show anymore. You had been interested for a few months; had watched all the interviews, bloopers, deleted scenes, but now you just didn’t like it as much anymore. You’ve had a few intense months thinking and talking about the show almost every minute of every day so you probably just need time away from it now that all that initial intensity has worn off.

You don’t realise how much time you’ve been quiet until Alexia speaks again.

“Amor?” you hum in acknowledgement urging her to continue “are you okay?”

“Yeah, just got a little distracted,” you answer shuffling around a little bit trying to get comfortable.

After a couple of minutes moving around you can’t seem to settle. You sigh and sit up feeling Alexia’s eyes on you the entire time.

“So, have you finished the work you had to do?” your girlfriend asks while putting her feet on your lap.

“No, not yet. But I really needed a break.”

Alexia looks up at you surprised.

“¿De verdad? I thought it was supposed to be something easy. You’ve been working for almost two hours.”

You frown. There’s no way it’s been two hours, right? That can’t be possible. But when you look at your watch you realise that it really has been two hours. You have spent all that time in your office and haven’t been able to finish a relatively simple task.

“Today is not my day, I guess,” you say rubbing your hands on your face with frustration “I’m a little distracted today, I can’t seem to concentrate on anything.”

But it wasn’t just today, and you knew that. It was something that had been going on for a while. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it had started to happen, but it got bad after the quarantine. You were on your second year of college when the pandemic occurred. You spent a few months studying online, a few months that felt like a bliss to you despite everything that was happening in the world. But you had to come back to class eventually. And it was fine; until it wasn’t. Every time you tried to pay attention to class you got distracted and couldn’t focus on what the teachers were saying for more than a few minutes at a time. When you had projects to do you couldn’t bring yourself to work on them and waited until the last day to get them done. Studying suddenly became a torture since you couldn’t concentrate for long. What once used to take you ten minutes, now it took an hour.

And the thing is you still don’t understand why. You don’t know what’s wrong with you now that wasn’t before. It hadn’t really bothered you before, you’d been able to deal with it for some time. But now it feels like it just keeps getting worse with each passing day. Deep down you know you need help, and you know you should talk to someone about this, but you don’t feel ready to. Not yet.

“How about you keep working on it tomorrow? And we can relax for the rest of the say. We can have a nice bath and then order some food. How does that sound?”

You smile at your girlfriend. How did you ever get so lucky?

“Yeah, I’d really like that.”

-----

The second time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, Alexia had just come home from training.

When you hear the door front open and your girlfriend call out for you, you’re lying on your bed scrolling through social media.

You get up and go say hello to her.

“Hi, baby,” you greet her opening your arms for a hug.

“Hola, mi amor.”

She takes a step back from your embrace, places her hands on your cheeks and kisses you passionately. And just as quickly as it had started she was pulling away.

“Hi,” you repeat feeling yourself blush.

“Hi,” your girlfriend answers kissing your forehead “I’m going to take a shower.”

You blink slowly taking a few seconds to get yourself together, being quickly interrupted by Alexia calling your name from the bedroom.

You make your way there but stop in your tracks in the door frame when you realise why your girlfriend had called for you.

“Princesa, what happened here?”

You give her a smile that you’re pretty sure turns out looking more like a grimace.

“Okay so, I wanted to rearrange some of the books-”

“Again?”

“-but then I wasn’t sure if I wanted to organize them by colour or by genre, so I decided to watch a video to decide. But then I got distracted by another video and kind of forgot what I was doing in the first place, so I just laid down and waited for you to come home,” you answer honestly giving your girlfriend a sheepish smile.

Alexia looks at you in deep thought.

“Okay, how about this? I take a shower and get into some comfortable clothes and once I’m done I’ll help you with all this.”

You sometimes wonder how someone so perfect like the woman in front of you exists.

“Or, we could shower together and then work on the bookshelf together as well,” you suggest smirking.

Your girlfriends lets out a chuckle and kisses your cheek.

“Nice try, but if we do that we might never be able to come out of the shower.”

Once your girlfriend is out of sight you take a look at all the books splattered around the room. The state of the place is certainly overwhelming and it just stresses you out more. Where are you supposed to start?

You sigh and sit down on the bed.

You should’ve finished this before Alexia got here. You’d had more than enough time to do it, so why couldn’t you just focus on your task like everyone else instead of getting distracted with everything? Now your girlfriend had to help you out instead of resting after the long day she probably had.

You rub your hands on your face in frustration. It really isn’t supposed to be that hard right?

“Yeah, I’m just a little lazy sometimes,” you whisper to no one in particular before getting up.

-----

The third time you feel that there’s something wrong with you, you’ve just gotten to your house from work.

When you arrive home you’re exhausted.

Stepping into the house the first thing you notice is the Spanish music playing in the background and the smell of your favourite meal being cooked.

Walking into the kitchen you are welcomed by the sight of your girlfriend wearing one of your old shirts dancing and cooking.

“Hi, love.”

She turns around at the sound of your voice and looks at you with a lovesick smile.

“Hola, princesa,” she quickly answers opening her arms for you to hug her, which you happily do “How was your day?”

You step out of her embrace and give her a kiss before making a face.

“It could’ve been better,” you tell her honestly.

You sit in one of the stools while your girlfriend resumes her cooking duties keeping an eye on you the whole time.

“¿Por qué? Did anything happen?”

“No, nothing in particular,” you pause, deciding whether or not to continue “Although there’s a new project I’ve been working on, which is obviously really exciting, but I’ve spent all morning busy with it; emailing people, setting the different dates for it, planning meetings and all that.”

Alexia completely turns around to look at you and nods urging you to keep talking.

“I just-” you sigh frustrated “I suddenly got hungry, right? And I looked at the time and realised that it was already pretty late and I hadn’t eaten lunch yet, so I went to grab a sandwich to the shop nearby. Then, on the way back I went past that bookstore I really like so I decided to have a look around for a bit to relax, and I ended up buying that book I told you came out yesterday.”

Your girlfriend’s frown deepens.

“Isn’t that a sequel to a book you haven’t read yet?”

“Yes,” you whisper a little embarrassed “I know it was a stupid decision, but I really wanted to buy it in that moment. Then I just felt bad because I had spent money on something I don’t even know if I’ll like.”

You feel yourself blush at the admission and hide your face in your hands.

“Hey,” you hear your girlfriend quietly say in your ear while she wraps her arms around your waist “There’s really no need to be embarrassed, ¿vale? You bought something you wanted after having a fairly stressful day at work. I promise you it’s not the end of the world, mi amor.”

With each word she says you begin to slowly relax in her arms.

You turn around and take her face in your hands.

“How do you always know what to say?”

“Because I love you and I know you better than I know myself,” she answers placing a kiss in your nose “Now you’re going to take a shower, we’re going to have dinner and then we’re gonna cuddle while watching a film. Tomorrow will be a better day, princesa, I promise.”

You nod although you don’t fully believe it.

-----

When you finally lay down to watch TV with your girlfriend you can’t seem to settle. Your mind is working really fast and you’re starting to get a little bit restless.

You haven’t really thought about it until now, but what if there is something actually wrong with you? What if it isn’t just a bad day? What if all the sleepless nights, the impulsivity, the difficulty staying focused for too long and the racing thoughts are all somehow connected? There’s no way, you or someone around you would’ve realised sooner. Right?

You feel Alexia’s eyes on you when you stop the show you’re watching.

You try not to think about it too much and begin to speak.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“What do you mean?” she asks confused.

“Never mind. Just ignore what I’ve said,” you answer shaking your head and laying down on top of your girlfriend again.

“Hey, no. None of that,” Alexia sits up with you in her lap and takes your face on her hands “What’s going on? Talk to me, please,” she begs worried.

Looking at her you realise that this is your partner, the person you’re building your future with. You are aware this is a tough thing to talk to her about but there’s no one you trust more in this world. She is your home.

“I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately, like my mind is always racing and I can't seem to focus on anything for long. I mean, it actually started a while ago, but it’s just been getting worse. I’m not sure how to explain it,” you confess.

Your girlfriend takes both of your hands and smiles encouragingly at you.

“Try. I’m listening and whatever it is I’m here for you, okay? Always, te lo prometo.”

“Okay, so, have you notice how I always seem to jump from one thing to another without actually finishing anything? I've tried making to-do lists and setting reminders, but nothing seems to work. And that’s just one of the things, you know? But it’s also not being able to sit still for more than five minutes and acting always so impulsive. And it's starting to affect everything I do. I just-” you take a deep breath “I’m always so frustrated. I just want to be able to be like everyone else, but it's like my brain is wired differently.”

“How long has this been going on?” Alexia asks concerned.

“I don’t know. A few months, I think.”

Your girlfriend lets go of your hands and holds your face instead making you look into her eyes.

“Mi amor, listen to me. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. Yes, your brain may work a little bit different but that doesn’t mean you’re stupid or broken, ¿vale? It's okay to feel overwhelmed, and it's good that you're talking about it. But I really need you to understand that. What do you want to do now?”

“I’m not sure, I wasn’t even planning on telling you to be honest,” you admit feeling yourself blushing.

“Maybe it could be helpful to talk to a professional about all of this?” Alexia suggest “Whatever you feel comfortable doing.”

You shrug and hide your face on her neck.

“Yeah, I guess. You promise me you’re not going anywhere?”

Your girlfriend kisses your forehead before answering.

“I'm here for you no matter what, we will figure this out. Thank you for sharing this with me, princesa.”

“Thank you for listening to me,” you whisper just for the two of you “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

-----

Maybe I'll write a sequel to this but I'm not really sure. Let me know what you think! <3

[smuthospital]

⭐️Yandere Miguel Ohara⭐️

Premise: You're a scientist, and Miguel is struck with a strange virus while out on the field. It's up to you to help him

Warning: Non-con, aphrodisiac, biting, fem reader

Minors DNI

You fiddle with your handbag nervously as you walk into the large building, entering the main foyer. You walk up to the main desk to see no one manning it. Just before you were about to look for an employee, a hologram flashes before your eyes. "Ah, you must be here for the interview. I'm Lyla, Miguel's AI assistant. Miguel's office is on the top floor. The elevator is to the right. Good luck!" You nod, thanking her before scurrying off. "Grumpy pants is really gonna like this one. Just his type," she chuckles, just out of earshot before disappearing. You're sweating bullets as you enter the elevator. You hope no one can see your sweat through the clothes you carefully selected for today.

You press the top floor key and wait. The ride to the top is agonizingly long. The doors opened to reveal a long corridor with a set of double doors at the end. You hesitantly knock followed by silence...Maybe he's not in? "Ugh. What now!?" A deep voice booms from the other side, the door immediately swinging open to reveal a very, very large angry man leaning over you. Surprise paints his face as he looks down upon you. He forgot he had one last interview for the day. Lyla snickers behind him, purposefully withholding your arrival for this scene. "O-oh! My apologies, please come in. (Y/n), was it?" He moves out of the way, allowing you to walk into his spacious office. He takes notice of the way your hips sway as you walk. He shakes his head, trying to dispel his unwanted thoughts. "Yes, that's me. It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Ohara," you say, smiling up at him.

He chuckles. It's adorable and strange at the same time to see someone so cute trying to be professional. "The pleasure is all mine. Have a seat,(Y/n)." He enjoys the way your name slides off his tongue. He sits at his desk and you take a seat in front. He crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge. It's as impressive as it is intimidating. You feel like a small bug before him. Your hands are clamming up. You barely make eye contact with him, opting to stare at the ground. Your resume was a good match for the position and his team of scientists were looking for a helping hand with experiments. It also helped that you were required to submit a photo with your resume and he liked what he saw. He must admit that you look even better in person. More promising candidates came before you, but you had his favour, not that he would ever admit that, even to himself. He asked you a few questions about yourself, knowing he'd hire you as soon as you walked in.

"Your resume was quite impressive. We could use a hard worker like you around here," he says as his eyes drift down from your pretty face down to your sexy collar bones...and accidentally land on your slightly open blouse that shows a delicious amount of skin. "Thank you. I admire all the work you and the scientists do here and I wanted to be a part of it." His eyes snap back up to yours. He inwardly shames himself for allowing himself to indulge in your appearance so much. It looks like you didn't notice his perversion. He smiles down at you, still having heard your response.

He stands up from his seat and outstretches his large hand towards you. You blush furiously and take his hand in yours. You watch your hand disappear as it's completely engulfed by his. He relishes the feeling. Chills of pleasure go down his spine. your hands are so delicate and smooth in his. He gives it a firm shake. "It was nice meeting you. Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Ohara, " you say smiling up at him with that same sweet-as-candy look from before. So Polite! Miguel has already taken such a liking to you. He hesitantly releases your hand, missing the feeling of your soft skin on his. "I'll be looking forward to your help around here, (Y/n). Have a nice day." He curses quietly to himself as he watches you leave the room, finding his eyes land on your ass once again. The spider in him is telling him to do awful things to you. Those stupid instincts of his.

Your first day of work comes and you're welcomed by the senior scientists instantly. You're the youngest member of the team. You now have the important task of assisting the other scientists with their tests. Venom testing, finding antidotes for said venoms, and going on coffee runs! You worked very hard in school to get this position, studying tirelessly day and night so you were a bit disappointed when the majority of your tasks were just coffee runs and grunt work, but you're still very grateful to be able to at least watch them at work.

A few days pass and you get the hang of your duties. The scientists usually appear extremely tired and overworked. That's when they wore their pyjamas to work and you went on the most coffee runs. Your co-worker appears before you with a stack of documents and a box of test tubes and tiredly sets them down before you, causing the table to shake. "Here, girl. Take these to Miguel. He was struck by a monster that's given him some...unwanted side effects. The antidote and ans the originally tested venom are in here. He's expecting them very soon so hurry...And bring back some coffee!" He doesn't give you a chance to respond, going back to his desk where a larger pile of papers lies before him along with four empty cups of coffee. Afraid of angering your exhausted senior, you quickly take the papers and make your way to the elevator. You begin to get nervous again, not ready to see the large muscly man so soon.

Miguel paces around in his office, quickly taking a seat behind his desk when he hears you knock. "Come in," he shouts. You notice he's a bit off when you enter. He seems nervous.. and he's blushing. He can't stop his eyes from focusing on your most intimate parts. Try as he might, he can't look away. The way he's looking at you is...frightening to say the least. His hands clench and unclench as beads of sweat roll down his neck. He swallows hard. He's using all his willpower to stop himself from ripping your clothes off. The priapism mixed with his spider instincts is not a good pair. He is so painfully hard. He already came twice before you came in, the underside of his desk splattered a white mess. "Mr. Ohara, I've brought the test tubes and documents you request-" He cuts you off before you can finish. "Hand me the antidote."

"Yes, sir!" His cock jumps when you call him that. He grunts and digs his palms into the wood of his desk. To you, he just seems upset. You read the labels on the tubes. They're written in classic doctor's handwriting, but from what you can see, one of them is severe priapism and the other is the venom he was injected with. You quickly hand him the tube which he downs immediately. He's quiet for a moment, waiting for his bothersome symptoms to go away, waiting for his swollen cock to finally calm down. He breathes heavily, tapping his foot with his eyes closed. He can't bare to look at you, feeling so very embarrassed. He hopes you haven't picked up on what's wrong with him.

Suddenly, he stops his body going completely still in his seat before he tumbles out of his chair. You have no idea what's going on. You don't even know what he was infected with. "Mr.Ohara!? W-whats wrong!?" You approach the desk, about to look over at him. He's oddly quiet. You're scared. Is he that hurt? Was there something wrong with the antidote? Did you give him the wrong tube? Oh god, you need to inform the lab and the infirmary. "I'm gonna get hel-" He leaps over the desk and lunges at you, an animalistic growl escaping his throat. you let out a scream and dive out of the way just in time. You crawl away from your boss, your heart pounding against your ribcage like it wants to escape.

You look into Miguel's eyes. They're different now. Instead of their usual red-brown colour, they're red with slits. You feel like you're facing off with a jaguar. You have a feeling that the second you move, hell attack. Tears border your eyes as you sit there in fear. Lyla appears once again, but the calm look is wiped off her face at what she sees. She looks Miguel up..and down and realizes what went wrong. She covers her mouth in shock and looks over at you. "(Y/n)! You have to get out of here! Miguel isn't himself!" You look back at her, feeling your limbs go numb. You know you have a limited amount of time to sit there and do nothing. On three, you'll force your body to get up and make for the door.

One...

Two.......

Three!!!

You scramble up from your spot on the ground and make a mad dash for the door, not even looking back. You don't need to though. You can feel him behind you. You can feel his claws barely grazing your back. You can hear his footsteps right behind yours. You open the door and slam it behind you. You know that won't hold him and just as expected, he bursts through it and starts chasing you on all fours. You continue running down the hall and slam your hand on the elevator button. By gods grace, it opens immediately. You think it may have been Lyla.

You waste no time getting in the elevator and pressing the emergency shut button a second before he would have joined you in there. You breathe a sigh of relief and click the button for the lab floor. Hopefully, in his animalistic state, he doesn't know how to operate an elevator...You were right, he doesn't, but it doesn't matter. You hear a loud slam and see a dent form in the elevator. then another and another. You scream and cry as he pries the doors apart before the elevator could start moving. Your only chance of escape is getting past him and using the stairs. Right as he gets the elevator doors wide enough, you slip between his legs and run towards the stairs.

He grows and chases after you. You've never been more scared in your life. In your panic, you trip over your own feet, sending yourself tumbling down the stairs. although it hurt, you fell faster than you could run. You lift your head from the concrete to see Miguel jumping six steps at a time. You get up as quickly as you can and enter the floor below Miguel's office. Spiders are looking at you questioningly, wondering why a scientist is running around crying and screaming like a lunatic. their confusion is cut short when they see Miguel burst from the stairwell, knocking over everything and everyone in his path to you.

"P-Please! Help me!" you scream. Spiders immediately get between you and him, but it doesn't last long before he's throwing them around like rag dolls. You take the opportunity to run down the next stairwell, hoping to find somewhere to hide. You make it two floors below and hide under a desk. You curl into yourself and cover your mouth with both your hands, trying to muffle your ragged breathing and whimpering. You shut your eyes and take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Your soul nearly flies out of your body when a hand rubs your knee followed by a hush. You look over to see that it's just a spider. They lean in and whisper "Shh it's ok, love. I'm Hobbie. We have to get you out of here. We're going to capture boss man. Follow m-" The desk over the two of you goes flying. Miguel stands there with heaving shoulders, eyes just as wide and animalistic as before. The Hobbie takes your arm and crashes through the side of the building, swinging down and crashing down into the main atrium.

It looks like your arrival was prepared because a large team of spider people and the science team are already there waiting for you. You remind yourself to thank Lyla later. You scream as you and Spiderpunk continue to be chased by a very persistent Miguel. Spiders try to stop him, shooting webs and attacking him but he just busts right through them again. He's unstoppable. Your legs are getting tired and your lungs are burning. You can't take much more of this. Miguel is used to this sort of activity, but you're just a scientist. Miguel bars his fangs at you. He's gone completely feral. What was he even infected with?

An electric red web shoots out toward you. You think it's over for you, but open your eyes to see that Spiderpunk got in front of you. "Go! Keep running! Jess will find you!" He shouts. You reach a dead end with a bathroom. With no other choice, you run in and hide in a stall. It's silent for a moment. No footsteps, no sounds. Just as you think you lost him, you feel a hot sticky liquid hit your cheek. You look up in terror. It's Mr. Ohara. It finally clicks what he's been affected with. The liquid came from the bulge in his suit. He jumps down from the ceiling, landing on his feet and towering over you. You fall back, immediately clambering out of the stall through the bottom gap. He breaks the door off its hinges, following right after. Just as he's about to reach for you, a red light flashes. Miguel is caught in his containment device. Jess helps you to your feet. "(Y/n), are you ok? You did a good job leading him to a closed area." That was a complete accident, but you don't have the breath in your lungs to tell her that. You look over to Miguel to see him snarling and slashing at the red cage with the sharp attachments of his suit, his eyes never leaving your form. Your face is red for all sorts of reasons now. His cock is still visibly leaking arousal,

Finally. He's contained. The science team could help him from in there. After the sudden events, you let out a sob. You were chased through HQ by the strongest man in there. If it weren't for Jess, he would've... You sniffle. You're led back to the science team by Jess. They all look at you like they've seen a ghost. You assume it's because of what happened. Jess pulls them to the side and whispers between themselves. You can't make out what they're saying. After they split up, the scientists get back to work, sending you suspicious glances now and then. You must be in trouble. Jess walks into the room and whispers to the scientists, who suddenly look frantic. Jess grimaces. She pauses in her spot, looking at the ground before walking over to you. "Hey, sweetie, we got Miguel back to himself. We gave him a double shot of antidote to counteract his double shot of venom. He'd like to apologize to you now if that's okay with you." She extends her hand and you take it, feeling reassured. You're happy the nightmare is over. Jess helps you up and leads you back up to Miguel's office.

You look around at the wreckage. Miguel has caused quite a mess. The doors need to be replaced. All of them. You arrive at Miguel's office door, which seems to have been repaired with webs. You're about to enter when you hear a soft growl from the other side. Your heart rate accelerates. Jess shoves you through the door and uses her webs to stick it shut before you can even think of running. You bang on the door, not even facing the monster you're trapped in there with. "I'm sorry, (Y/n). This is the only way we can calm him. He broke through his containment device before we could make an antidote strong enough and he's too dangerous to let him roam free." You continue banging on the door, trying to push it open in vain. "No! Please! Let me out! I'm begging you, please!"

Your heart sinks into your stomach as you hear her footsteps fade away. A shadow encompasses you from behind. You're ripped away from the door and thrown to the floor, knowing the wind out of you. You scream as the monster known as Miguel Ohara climbs over you, his arms holding yours sown and jaw snapping towards your neck viciously. You're screaming uncontrollably, ducking away from his snapping teeth, missing him by a hair. "Mr.Ohara! Please stop!" you cry, trying to appeal to his long-lost humanity. His claws dig into your arms, bringing your torso up and smashing you back into the floor, winding you for a second time.

He latches his mouth onto your neck, his fangs sinking into your soft flesh. You cry out in pain as blood leaks past his lips before you feel a cold liquid enters the wound from his fangs. Slowly, you lose the ability to move any part of your body. You feel his ginormous bulge press into your clothed crotch. He grabs onto your waist, grunting while violently humping into you until you feel a hot wetness explode onto you. He came through his suit, soaking you.

You're helpless as he releases your arms and inhales your scent, moaning as he breathes out. He sinks his body lower on yours, pausing at your chest. He raises a clawed finger and begins tearing it in two from the center. Once off, he does the same to your bra, exposing your breasts. He doesn't hesitate to lick your nipple, lapping at it and tweaking the other with his fingers. He sinks lower on you and digs his nose into your crotch, pressing in and inhaling. The clothes protecting your pussy from his hungry eyes don't last long, falling to the floor in pieces.

He licks a stripe up your pussy and stares into your eyes. You try to tell him to stop, but your lips and tongue won't move the way you want them to. Noises slip past your parted lips in a pathetic attempt at begging. Your face burns bright. He grunts as his suit rubs against his throbbing cock. He rips his suit at the crotch to free his painful erection and climbs over you, his monstrous cock rubbing against your cunt. You whine in protest. as he lifts your thighs and puts them on his shoulders, leaning over you to lock you in a mating press. Tears run down your hot cheeks. This will kill you! Or render you handicapped at the very least!

He hisses as he pushes forward. You squeeze your eyes shut. Oh god, it hurts! He's stretching you open on his cock. Inch by inch, he sinks himself in. With nowhere else to go, his cock forms a large bulge in your lower stomach. A pained moan escapes your throat. he rears his hips back and rams forward, punching your cervix. He lets out short animalistic grunts and growls. He grunts as he finally manages to bottom out, your cervix screaming for help as you're fully stretched over his massive cock. He doesn't give you a second to adjust, ramming himself in and out rapidly until he thrusts in one last time before you feel hotness shoot inside you. There's so much that your stomach rises from the sheer amount before escaping past his cock. He bucks his hips forward as if to taunt you, forcing his cum deeper inside your already swollen insides. He pants on top of you before slowly unsheathing himself from your abused hole.

Your brain isn't able to process anything but the feeling of your insides and that he's finally done with you. He roughly flips you over on your stomach and pulls your hips back, forcing your back to arch up before him. He presses his thighs to your ass, lining his cock up with your entrance. You whimper, tears leaking from your eyes. He sheathes himself within you again, leaning over you and growing right in your ear. His hips piston in and out of you ferociously, his hot, ragged breath fanning over your neck. Your walls begin to clench around him again. His hands grab your hips, pressing your ass flush to his hips. The height difference causes your knees to lift off the ground. you can feel every inch of him inside you.

Your eyes cross. You can't take much more of this. You're getting drunk off the feeling of being raped by your boss. He ruts faster inside you, smacking sounds echoing through the room. You feel shame pool in your gut along with the same hotness from before. You feel it flow into you before running out of space and running down your thighs. His claws dig into your flesh, causing rivulets of blood to leak past his fingers. You feel your energy drain from you as you come down from your high. He continues pumping in and out of you as you succumb to sleep.

[jaketsparrow]

SOMETHING... | JTK

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 10.6K

Summary: When you have to say goodbye to your professor and mentor, a cocky young professor steps in, Jacob Kiskza. Literature used to be your safe place, but now you feel him getting involved in every corner; it doesn’t help that you’re his TA. You deny yourself every opportunity to fall for him until…

A/N: Hi guys :) I know it’s been forever since I’ve put something together and I apologize about that, but this is life. This one has been on my mind since the Grammy U interview and I finally had the idea to put it all together. I hope you enjoy :) 

Playlist

*Also I'm so sorry I lost my tag list so if you want to be tagged here's a new form* Taglist

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Sexual content (of course), talks about death/grief, angst, swearing, Dom! Jake, restraints, possible orgasm denial, choking, alcohol use, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, ~some~ degrading, praise kink!, I’m sorry if I missed anything, but, etc, it’s filth. 

The classroom was cold in the early months of the year. You had gotten in the habit of wearing your coat through the 3-hour seminar. You were lucky that this class only ran once a week, but you often had to stay longer than the students, working with the professor for a few hours afterward. He was always elusive. Always eager to get things done as fast as possible; efficient and snappy. 

There was much to admire about him, but his personality often left you rolling your eyes. He always seemed a bit too sure about himself, always being the tough grader, pushing students further than they were willing to go. He cared a lot, especially about the subject matter. He still had that gusto in him to do things right, to be stern. 

He was new to the program; and before this, only about a year into teaching. You studied under his predecessor. She was a kinder old woman who cared deeply for you, like your mother away from home. She taught you everything- and even got you to change majors during your sophomore year. She supplemented your reading supplies, nurtured your abilities, and was always willing to sit in deep conversation with you. Discussing the classics, introducing modern pieces, talking about life, talking about it all. 

Professor Kiszka on the other hand… 

When he took over for Professor Meelo, he took very little time to rip the bandaid off. When you had originally been promised a TA position in the literature department, you were expected to be under your mentor, not a cocky white man. 

You spent weeks crying during winter break after first meeting him. The day you met him didn’t go exactly as you hoped. It was the week of finals when you found out Meelo was sick, and that she was stepping away from teaching. As if finals week wasn’t stressful enough, you had to come to terms with the fact that the woman who taught you everything was going to be leaving this world sooner than you would’ve thought. It was even more of a punch in the gut to walk into your introduction meeting to see… him. 

3 Months Ago

The walk across campus felt heavier than usual. The winter had been harsher than it usually was in early December. The wind whipped across your bare rosy cheeks, causing freezing tears to slowly fall out of the corners of your eyes. Almost like a bad omen, the weather continued to get worse as you sludged your way across the quad. 

The parking lot was nearly a mile away from campus, which was nice during the warmer months; the trees would sway across the crosswalk, blessing the sidewalk with fallen flowers and leaves. The grass was green and lively, a welcome mat onto a wonderful learning home. Between the cracks of the stone walkways, little dandelions would grow. You never understood the people who thought them to be unnecessary weeds. They were bright and yellow lively plants, and when the time of beauty passed, they passed their good wishes onto you. Blowing what once were vibrant petals into the wind. Who knew you’d miss the weeds on your walks?

Instead, now the stones were smeared with remnants of snowy footprints, broken earth that had been cracked through with the force of shovels, and the remnants of the dead earth.

Meelo called you just last week. You begged to go see her in the hospital, but she didn’t want you to worry too much. She agreed to call you every other day, just like your usual coffee arrangements. She loved them just as much as you did. She never had a husband or any children. Her students were her children, her soul was fed enough through changing lives that she didn’t want to take away that love from her students or prevent any child from feeling all of it. You were not the first to bear their soul in her office, but you might be one of the last. 

Meelo begged you to go meet the new professor. You had tried to rescind your TA position, but she blocked you at every chance she got. Even while in hospice she still managed to look out for you…

“Please, sweetheart. I know it’s not easy. But he’s young, he’s smart, I think you’ll have a lot in common with him,” She pleaded through the phone. 

“But he’s not you. I just, I thought… I thought I’d have more time…” Your voice trailed off. 

You tried to hold the phone away from your face, trying not to distress her more with the sounds of your whimpers and tears. 

Her voice started again, “You never know what you will learn from him. You have more time with me, but there comes a time when a teacher must share her students for them to learn more. If we stayed in our echo chamber together my dear I’m afraid you wouldn’t learn everything you need to know. Jacob is going to be a great professor, and I know you will learn a lot from him. His research and analysis work is quite extensive. The school and I hired him for a reason. Please. Just give it a try. For me.”

“Just for you.” 

And here you were trudging through, feeling every bone in your body telling you to turn around, to go home. But you were doing this not for you, you reminded yourself. For Meelo. She was right, you latched on to her from your early years in college and favored her over all of your other professors. They were kind and nice as well, but it didn’t matter to you in the end, if they weren’t Meelo, they were never going to compare. 

The building seemed colder than usual. The large glass windows were covered by their shades; no one wanted to see the gross state of life outside of the classroom. That’s hardly motivating to any student, the fluorescents would give more life than the grey state of the weather. 

You pull the door open, walk through the entryway, and follow your usual path down the hallway to Meelo’s room. 

The thing about old colleges, everywhere you turn is a little piece of history. Each room has housed many professors and many students. The building had life, had ghosts of its own hidden in each brick, in each stone. You felt the comfort of this presence moving through the hallway. 

You stop right before Meelo’s room, catching your breath before you enter. Trying to have an open mind. Kiszka could be something, or he could just be another man throwing words at you. Not that all men were the same, but a majority of the male professors here were lackluster, favoring the male students and the athletes who needed the better grades to stay in the school. And if they favored the women… You always felt a cold chill thinking about that. Thinking about why…

One last deep breath before you enter the classroom. You grab tight onto the handle of your tote bag and strut confidently into the room. 

It was empty. 

The beautiful artwork and posters that Meelo had filling the room were stripped. Revealing the natural state of the architecture. It was beautiful in its own way but didn’t feel like the educational home you once felt so blessed to be in. The desks were all shoved to one side of the classroom. The previous welcoming U-shape was demolished, instead providing a cluttered destruction of Meelo’s work. 

You stood awestruck in the shape of the room. There was no time wasted between Meelo leaving and Kiszka starting to make his mark on the room. The bookshelves that used to be filled in the back of the room had been emptied and their contents sat on the floor in boxes.

You walk over to the boxes, kneeling to gently sift through the carelessly placed books. This was Meelo’s library that she had collected for the classroom. Take a book, leave a book, borrow a book, bring it back. You loved visiting this wall every week, seeing what books your peers were interested in, and which books made their way into the library. Some new, and some returning after long months away. 

Sitting on top of the box was the classic “Brave New World”. Aldous Huxley. 1932. Not an original copy, but a new binding. It was like the universe was sending you signs. This would be a brave new world. A world where you might have to come to terms with the fact that Meelo would not be in your life forever.  A world where you might have to figure out everything with a new mentor. A world where you thought you would have years to work on your pieces with a woman who understood you, but now you would turn over your heartfelt pieces to a man. One who may not understand you the same as someone else does.

“A favorite of yours?” A voice perks up from the doorway. 

You turn to see him. Your eyes work your way up his figure. He’s wearing Chelsea boots, black thick linen pants, a white loose shirt with a black vest, and a dress coat over it. His chestnut hair lays over the shoulders of the coat, and his eyes are covered by circular gold-rimmed sunglasses. He oozes mystery. His arms crossed, surveying your crouched body by the boxes. You hate to admit it, but he may be one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. 

You hold up the book towards him, displaying the cover. 

“Not particularly. I don’t like thinking about the takeover of technology. It feels too real right now.” You respond. 

He wanders over to you, taking his time, each step creating the most annoying echo in the emptied classroom. He reaches his hand out to yours, asking silently for the book. You hand it over to him and stand to match his level. 

He passes the book between his hands, admiring the binds, “Ah, yes, but perhaps something can be learned from the book if more understood its warning… if only more read it…”

“If only…” You let the conversation trail off. Your eyes wander back to the pile of desks on the opposite wall. You feel yourself zoning out, focused only on the change of the room, not on the man in front of you. 

“-Your favorite?” He asks. 

You snap back to the conversation, trying to recall the beginning of his question, “I’m sorry? 

“If this is not your favorite, can I ask which is?” He waves you to walk with him. 

You follow him into the office at the back of the classroom. He sits in Meelo’s chair, and you sit in the chair that had held you so many times. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cushion had a you-shaped imprint in it at this point. 

He asks a third time, “You don’t seem like the Jane Eyre or Louisa May student, so what is it?” 

You let your bag fall off your shoulder and you try to sit up in the chair, asserting some sort of professionalism. Your answer will hold some sort of judgment for him. Although you want to be offended by his comment about the female author’s classics, he’s right. They were never your favorite. 

“Tess of the D’Urbervilles. Meelo gave it to me as my first assignment.” You respond, confident in your answer. 

He nods in approval, “Lovely choice, very telling. Meelo said you were very bright–one for the classics.” 

He leans back in his chair, stroking his chin. His hand reaches up to the gold-rims and pulls them off, clattering onto the desk. He pulls himself towards the desk, resting his elbows on the table. 

“Are you going to ask me mine?” He asks, almost presumptuously. 

You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, he has to find a way to be important here. You adjust yourself in your seat, crossing your arms in the process. 

“If you want me to know, why don’t you just say it?” You retort. 

He chuckles to himself, “Lord of the Rings.” 

Your mouth falls so far open that you’re afraid a fly might buzz its way in. You lift your hand to your mouth and try to hide your disapproval.

“That’s a classic for sure.” You reply, “Not one I would’ve expected from a college literature professor, but a classic nonetheless.”

He pushes himself off the desk, running his hands through his long locks before they make their way onto the arms of the seat. 

“You don’t approve?” He scoffs. 

“I didn’t say that, I just said it’s not one that I would expect.” 

“I believe there is a difference between a personal and professional favorite. A favorite you could read over and over again, and you could enjoy without having to think too much about what it all means. it’s an adventure, its heroes and legends, it’s a call for relaxation and enjoyment. I’d rather have my favorite be a well-known classic than a deep thought-provoking story about purity.”

You fight every urge in you to slap the man sitting before you for disgracing such a beautiful novel. But you think about Meelo. You think about stepping outside of the echo chamber. 

“I think we may have different opinions on favorites, Professor Kiszka.” You say shortly. 

You feel the tension grow between you already. This would be a difficult semester. Even more difficult because as you felt your dislike for him grow, you couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful man sitting in front of you. His brown eyes stared deep into you, trying to assess his new assistant. You tried not to let him in too far. You were not fawning for him, at least you weren’t trying to. You wanted to fight off the growing warmth crying to spread through you. It was like seeing a handsome stranger in the bar; you knew the danger, but almost didn’t want to let yourself protect your heart. 

He was by far the youngest professor here, and the most eligible. No ring was on his finger. 

“Please, call me Jacob.” 

You stood up from your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder. You try to compose yourself enough not to let any distaste escape from your lips. 

“Sorry, Professor Kiszka, I have finals I need to finish, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you in January. If you need anything from me before then, I believe the dean gave you my information.”

You reach your hand out awkwardly, trying to invite a handshake. He cautiously reaches his hand back, pulling you into a firm, but still gentle handshake. 

His eyes meet yours. The deep brown staring into you. Although you should have the power from your standing position, you knew he held all the cards from his seat. The handshake lingered longer than you had expected, both of you locked deep into staring each other down. He finally releases his hand. 

“It was a pleasure.” You start to leave the office, but he makes one last remark, “Oh, one last thing…” 

You turn to face him, “Yes professor?”

 He reaches into the desk and pulls out a cloth-bound book, handing it to you. You slowly return to the desk, taking the book from his hand—the Lord of the Rings. 

“Try it for me? You do have a whole winter break…”

You rub your hands over the cover, smiling at his request. You place the book back in his hand.

“I used to read it as a child. No need to give it a try when you’ve read it four times already.” You smile at him. 

Even if it wasn’t your favorite, didn’t mean it wasn’t a favorite. 

Present

In some ways, your relationship with him felt like a love-lost marriage. Just moving through the motions. You sat in on the classes and took note of who engaged, and who didn’t. You graded assignments, tests, and papers, with him always double-checking and doubting your work. You didn’t sit in on long conversations with him like Meelo. Perhaps some of that was your fault, always quick to get to work. He adjusted to you quickly, understanding how you needed to work, and letting you grieve. 

Meelo passed quickly into the semester. You cried once in front of him when the news broke. You nearly snapped his head off when he asked if he could help you. From that moment on he took on this cold persona, but you don’t blame him at all. You knew in your heart that you would not have the same connection with him as Meelo, so it was easier to never try. 

Through everything, your work never faltered, and your school work remained the priority. Perhaps it was a way to hide through all the pain but the calculated steps it took to grade provided a soothing rhythm amongst the distress. 

You never failed to notice all the times you caught him catching glances at you. You were silly to think that it meant anything more than just a quick look, but still maybe somewhere in your heart, you had hoped that maybe he was thinking of you more than his assistant. For weeks you watched him stroll into class, always wearing a disheveled but somehow put-together outfit. You loved seeing how he would piece together different clothes from his collection. Never repeating an exact outfit, but always finding new ways to repurpose the same items. 

One day he walked in with a new addition to his look, a cluster of pendants on a necklace. They looked older, more worn in than any new silver. You asked him about it briefly, trying not to engage in a further conversation. 

“They’re coins, Spanish coins, designed after ones from the 1600s. I think the jeweler lied to me when he said they were originals, but they still look okay… Do you think so? 

“You look like a pirate.” You responded. 

A sexy pirate. You shoved that thought deep into the back of your mind. Holding on to it, because you didn’t want to forget how good he looked. 

His Thursday classes were always one of the better ones. This was one that you had to take yourself for your graduate program. There was no TA’ing involved as that would be a huge conflict of interest if you got to grade your papers. You chose to sit in the back corner of the class by the window, in hopes that when spring rolls around you could watch the foliage return. The unfortunate thing about this choice was the waiting. February was colder than you had expected and the windows provided no warmth. 

When you were TA’ing you got to sit at the edge of the office and the classroom. Kiszka brought a space heater for you to place at the doorway. He joked he didn’t need his assistant ‘freezing to death’, because then ‘who would grade the papers’.

You tried your hardest to not let him favor you, but you knew he was someone who would be kind no matter how much you asked him to stop. He would leave books on the edge of his desk for you to read and when you tried to return them he declined and told you he already had a copy in his collection. You doubted that and always protested in fear that you thought you might lead him on. But in the end, it was always you walking out with a new book in your bag. 

He was trying his hardest to get along with you. Some days it was easier and you would entertain his questions, but other days it was easier to be quick and move along. This relationship was not going to be a fairytale. You had already found your soulmate once, and you lost her. In your mind, there was no more room in your heart to let someone in. And why should you prepare space for someone if you truly don’t know if they want to be there? 

This class although interesting became boring as the weeks went on. The class had fallen into a seasonal depression of sorts. Many like you had expected to have Meelo for the semester when you had booked your classes, so when Kiszka showed up and tried to shake things up… It wasn’t easy. He was skilled and smart, sure… But not the same. He craved involvement and wanted the class to join in with him, but often would push people further than they were willing to go. A room full of mid-20-year-olds was truly a space of burnout. Many of these students had already passed four, sometimes five years of school before they stepped into this class. They no longer have that lively interest in reading and analyzing literature but want to create their own.

“-And what was this author trying to convey through his use of metaphors?...” He asked from his commanding space at the front of the class, “No one?... No one picked up on this…? Or are you too scared to be wrong?”

Your attempts at fighting off eye-rolls also subsided the longer this course went on, and this roll came on hard. You’ve heard this line countless times through multiple classes. He wasn’t wrong, but he could at least find different ways to say the statement. 

“Y/N? Care to enlighten everyone?” He calls to you, in need of saving the class who had lost attention nearly an hour ago. 

“Sure. It’s a metaphor for how women are treated in society.” You answer.

He grits his teeth and sighs, “Not quite, but you’re close…” 

You lift yourself from your slump, “No, that’s right. She is clearly trying to convey the expectations of women in society and how we are treated. As a female author, she leaves these metaphors to be very simple for female readers to understand. For males, it’s harder to grasp that the severity of these situations could imply the treatment of women, but that’s what she’s trying to explain.”

He clasps his hands together giving them a brief shake, “That class, that is how you analyze. Literature can be read in different ways by different readers. The author may have a clear intention of what they are trying to write, but others may be able to relate it to other aspects of their life. I have my own interpretation, and you all may have others. That is how this should be working. There is nothing wrong, with how you analyze, just that you have the knowledge to back it up…”

Every time you tried to make him out to be the bad guy, he ended up being in the right. You hated how smart he was. You hated how much you wanted to watch him while he stood up there. You hated how he wasn’t her. But you knew you didn’t want him to leave. 

“So with that,” He continues, “Finish up the last few chapters and please come prepared with statements next week about your findings. I want you to dig deep; feel the author. I’ll see you next week.” 

The class starts their shuffle for the door, while you meander to your usual spot at the doorway of the office. The next class wouldn’t be in for 20 minutes, but you would at least have time to warm up. 

You click on the heater and walk over to Kiszka’s rolling desk chair. You take your coat off and rest it over the seat, pushing it over to the door. Kiszka finds his seat at the front of the classroom, pulling out his book of the week. He usually would try to follow you, asking you what you were reading, then the next day showing up to class with an identical copy. It was annoying and endearing how much he wanted to learn from you. You wondered if it upset him that you weren’t as keen on learning from him. 

He confided in you that Meelo was an idol of his as well, and although he didn’t get to learn from her, he was going to try to through you. 

You pull your copy of Anna Karenina from your bag and join him. Your chapters ahead of him, but you enjoy being one step in front of him. 

You peep up from the back of the room, “I didn’t ask, but please tell me this isn’t your first time reading this.” 

He lifts his head from the book slightly, eyes still skimming the page, “Third.” 

You sigh in relief. That would’ve been embarrassing; for him. 

You return to the book. You’re finding it harder to dive in today than usual, something is different… You see out of the corner of your eye that Kiszka has put down the book altogether, and you can sense him staring. This lasts a few moments, but you try to remain focused on the words, but catching yourself having to re-read the paragraphs; not processing the sentences you’ve already read.

A minute goes by and he hasn’t returned to his pages. Instead, you hear the squeak of his chair rolling over to his computer. A few clicks and a frenzy of taps on the keyboard. 

“Hey.” He prods. 

You look up again from the book. He peers at you over the edge of his computer and then closes it so he can see you better. He grasps his jaw lightly, stroking it in his hands. 

“Yes?” You asked, trying not to seem annoyed by the interruption. 

“Let’s go over your manuscript. I want to see it.” He continues. 

No. It’s not time yet. You’ve been meticulously editing it for months now. He wasn’t supposed to read it until midterms, you were supposed to have more time…

You drop the book into your lap, “It’s not ready…” You close the book, “Also we have class in twenty minutes, you won’t be able to read it all by then.” 

He stands up from his seat, straightening his vest out, “I canceled class. Pull it out.” 

Two Hours Later

Some time had passed. You both sat in his office now. Him at… his… desk, and you still positioned by the heater at the door. At this point you were warm enough to finally take your sweater off, stripping down to a simple black t-shirt. You saw him staring through the pages when you pulled the sweater off. If he had looked any harder you think he might burn a hole through the book.

The office was silent except for the occasional click and clack of the heater, and the flickering of the candle on his desk. He flipped through the lightly bound pages while you continued through your reading. Every couple of minutes you could hear the stroke of his red pen hit the pages. The words or corrections will wait for you later. You could sit and scoff at them later in your apartment. The man said his favorite book was Lord of the Rings, how could you possibly trust his editorial judgment?

You had made it about a hundred or so pages through your book, which was slower than you would’ve liked. You still couldn’t breach the interferences. You thought the silence would help, but hearing his hums, his pen strokes, the occasional sip of scotch… It was all a distraction. 

You couldn’t stop looking up from the book to watch him slyly admire your work. You knew your writing was good; Meelo had seen the early stages of it all. She heard the direction and loved every word… A complete sadness rushed over you thinking of how she would never see the final product. 

Kiszka would adjust himself every few minutes; switching positions in his seat. You wanted to trust yourself enough not to look every time he shifted his hips, but those linen pants he loved so much left little to wonder about him. You had a closeness to him that you didn’t want to admit. As many differences as there were between you, there were just as many similarities. He was an outsider here; you could see that clearly. The other professors didn’t trust him because of his age- the students tried to walk all over him because of that too. 

Even though you wanted to hate how pretentious he seemed, deep down you knew it was a facade to seem more studious to others. You saw the real him in glimpses. The kindness he offered to you that many others most likely wouldn’t have. Your youth and love for literature matched his perfectly, although you couldn’t always find the way to express it correctly. Your loyalty to Meelo prevented that at every chance. 

Letting him read this manuscript was a big step that you didn’t fully even realize until he had reached the halfway point. You wanted to go and rip the pages out of his hand, throw them out the window, prevent him from seeing you too deeply… But something inside you needed to know what he thought of it. 

Frustrated by your lack of progress, you lowered the book into your lap. You took this time to look around the room. It had changed so much since you had seen it back in December. Kiszka’s library had taken up the room, along with his record collection. When you would come by early in the morning to drop off the graded work, you would hear him playing some of it. Blues, rock, the classics. You never disturbed him during these times, it felt too intimate to interrupt. Instead, you would place the binder of essays on his classroom desk and scurry away before he could come to say hello. 

You place your bookmark into the page opening. You calmly stand and place the book where you once sat. Quietly, you make your way over to his collection.  

You see him peer up through the pages. Curious about your movements, watching you silently behind the manuscript. 

You lower yourself to the floor, sifting through the jackets of the vinyls. Alphabetical. Of course. You make your way quickly through the a’s and land through the b’s. As cliche as it seems, you truly love Abbey Road, and of course, there it is front and center with the other Beatles albums. You pull it out from the shelf, removing the jacket carefully from the sleeve. You lift the vinyl out and place it on the record player. It’s a modern one, which feels very out of character for Kiszka. He always seemed like the type to randomly have every item of his be nothing newer than 20 years old. 

You press play and lower the needle onto the music. 

Come Together plays softly through the speakers. You turn to look back at him, seeing if there is any protest. Instead, he has the red pen out, slashing across the paper. You grit your teeth and try not to engage. You return to his collection, running your fingers along the remainder of the vinyl. The plastic tickles through your fingers, creating a click, click sound as each jacket releases from your hold. 

Although you did want Kiszka to keep reading, you felt it was necessary to distract him, to try and persuade him to step away…

You continue from the vinyl collection, traipsing through the room. It’s like a library out of a movie, truly. You admired his office deeply and loved to gaze at it while he was lecturing. Sometimes when he was deep in his philosophy of literature speeches, you would lean back in the chair and try to read the book titles from afar. Your eyesight was good, but not good enough to make out the exact names of all of them. You never dared to peruse like this before, but this moment presented the perfect opportunity. 

You were his captive for the remainder of his reading. Well… In all reality, you didn’t have to be here, but you didn’t dare leave that manuscript alone. It had been stored with you in your tote for the past month. You tried to take chunks of edits at a time, working through it yourself when you had time but didn’t want to share it with anyone until you felt that it was complete. 

You tried to fight Kiszka off, but the notion of him canceling class meant that he found taking the time to do this very important… 

The books that were displayed on these shelves were not the type of books that you would find at your local bookstore. They were older, worn in, some of them originals, even some you haven’t read yet. Maybe he did have some things that he could show you…

 You make your way to the last set of bookshelves, rounding the back corner of the office. The last edge of the wall had his makeshift bar. 

The liquor was all dark, amber-colored. Very manly, you thought to yourself. Bottles of whiskey and scotch lined the makeshift bar. Jack Daniels, Sazerac Rye, Macallan Double Cask… You recognized some of the labels. 

Kiszka crept up behind you, “If you wanted a glass, you could’ve asked.” 

He reaches down below you to fetch a rocks glass from the bar. He grabs the Macallan Double Cask and pours a finger for you. The alcohol flows effortlessly out of the bottle, barely splashing into the glass.  He hands the glass to you, your hand brushing his. His touch is warm… Kind. He takes his other hand and grabs your shoulder, in a comforting way. You want to seem completely normal, but feel your cheeks getting rosy from the touch. You suck on your bottom lip and try to hide your face. 

You take a large swig of the scotch, trying to be mindful of not wasting such a good drink. He looks at you, shocked at your ability to take it so easily. 

“Wow. Good.” Is the only words he can mutter. 

You smile meekly. The praise makes you feel undoubtedly shyer than you had just before. 

“Are these originals?” You ask, pointing to the corner section of his library, “I couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to touch them if they were.”

“Many of them, yes,” He responds, “I trust that you would be gentle with them, please, which one were you curious about?” 

You make your way over to the shelf, placing your drink down on the small table near the corner. You reach up to fold out the red bound book. Its title was completely faded from the binding, but we’re curious as to which one it was. He follows closely behind you, close enough to almost be on you. 

He laughs, “Funny you should grab that..” 

You open the cover to find Lord of the Rings printed in big black letters. 

“Oh, dear god.” You sigh. 

“It is an original if that makes you feel any better about it. I know you hate this book, but still-”

“No, no,” You protest, “I never said I hated it, I just said it wasn’t my favorite. Remember we have different opinions on that professor.” 

He scoffs and takes the book from your hand. Rubbing the cloth binding with his thumbs.

“Want to know something funny?” He questions. 

You did. You really did. You wanted the connection at this moment… For whatever cosmic reason it finally felt okay to banter with him. You nod your head, approving him to continue. 

“I saw the movies before I read the books.” He laughs, “My brothers and I loved it, we were practically obsessed, but I was younger then and a stupid boy who didn’t read like I do now. Not the fairytale way most people find their favorite but it reminds me of childhood…”

You wanted to laugh, you wanted to make fun of him for it. But you knew that this was a special moment for him. A look into his past, a presentation for more. He places the book carefully back on the shelf, tucking it back into its spot. 

“Well, I guess that makes more sense now. But, as a graduate professor, you ought to just say you like the pretentious shit. No one’s going to take you seriously.” 

He turns from the shelf, “Who said I was worried about that? If I lie then I am a fraud. I don’t care if anyone says that.” 

Oh fuck. His confidence is so intoxicating. He’s right. Why should he care? 

“I just- I meant… I thought that the other professors-” 

“You thought that they don’t take me seriously? Right. They don’t. In schools like this, you have to earn respect. I’m not an alumnus, I didn’t go to Harvard, but I do a damn good job at what I do. As much as you may protest some of my teaching, I know what I’m doing.”

He breezes past you and strolls back over to the bar to pour himself another drink. You reach back for yours and hold it between your hands, trying to collect yourself. You hope that you didn’t hurt him. 

“Did I offend you?” You ask.

“‘Course not,” He takes a swig, “I just wish you would realize that it doesn’t matter what standards others hold you to. You are not someone else. You are you.” 

“I know that.” You respond dryly. Your answer didn’t sound as confident as you wanted it to be. It came out unsure and desperate. 

“Then why has your whole academic career been based on your relationship with one woman? Why must everything you do be for her?...” 

You stand there silently. Completely struck with emotions. Anger, sadness, discouragement.

“She… She made me who I am,” You pipe, “She’s the reason I am in this program.” 

He strolls back over to you, locking your eyes with his. It’s intimidating, this look he has on his face. He’s studying you, seeing how lost you feel. Truly for the first time you couldn’t even try to put up any walls. He had broken you down. 

He places his hand on your shoulder again, “Can I show you something?” He asks. 

Before you have time to even object to him, his hand moves from your shoulder to your waist, guiding you back towards his desk. You feel butterflies growing inside you. 

No. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He is your advisor. He is not someone you should feel this way about. He’s trying to help you, he’s not interested in you. 

The vinyl finishes its song and moves on to Something. He guides you into his seat. You place the glass down on the desk and wipe the condensation from your hands onto your thighs. He reaches over the desk and twirls the manuscript back in front of you. The pages sit open about two-thirds of the way through. He stands behind you, practically leaning on your back. His chest rests against your shoulder, pointing at the beginning of the page. 

“See this paragraph here?” He questions. 

You strain so hard to not melt at his touch. His hair is grazing your cheek. It smells wonderful, but you can’t admit that. He has this gentle but clean musk about him. He smells like a perfectly cared-for bookstore. A soft smell of tobacco and oak. The chains with pendants are draping over his neck, sparkling in the moonlight of the night, softly clanking together with his movement 

You need to focus. 

You respond, afraid that you waited too long, “Yes?” Your voice wavers, the lack of confidence creeping back through, “Is there something wrong with it?” 

He turns to face you, “Yes. I have a big problem with it.” 

You feel your heart sink. What could be wrong with it? The back half of the book is the best part, it is the part you feel most confident with. You feel confused. All of those walls and confidence you felt once in his presence were lost. 

“What…? What problem?” 

You look back at the pages, disregarding his closeness to you, pulling the bundle of paper back towards you, and flipping through to the previous pages. He puts his hand on yours, stopping you from searching. He lowers himself next to the seat, squatting to be at your eye level. His thumb wanders back and forth over your wrist. 

He smiles a crooked and cunning smile, “It’s some of the best writing I’ve seen in years, and the author was too scared to even share it with anyone. She lost someone and had to do this all on her own. That’s terrifying, but it’s still her work. ” 

You look at the hand holding yours. It’s strong but has a softness to it. It has a few rings sitting on them, but none a wedding band. You lower your head and release your wrist, grabbing it with your other hand. You sigh heavily and grasp your hands in front of the pages. Your hands travel up to hide your face, which presents a melancholic smile that you can’t let go of. You can’t tell if it’s the liquor or his presence, but you feel a glow coming from inside. 

You rush your hands past your face and through your hair, resting your hands on the back of your neck. Scoffing, you turn to look at him. His amused smile is irresistible. 

“You,” He starts, “Are an amazing writer.” His hand lifts from the pages and reaches up towards your cheek, holding your face in his palm, “And no matter who your teacher is, you can still do it on your own.”

Your hand finds its way up to his arm, holding him back. Staring longingly at each other. Both deep down knowing that this was about to lead down a path you couldn’t return from. 

“Professor-” You initiate.

“Jacob.” He replies. 

“Fine… Jacob. This- I… I don’t think.” 

He quickly removes his hand from your face and comes to his senses. “Oh, dear, um… I’m so sorry y/n… I…”

You let yourself slump in the seat. How could you? How could you squander that moment? After years of wishing to find a man who was at least half as interested in literature as you… Here you are throwing it away. But you could be right to do so. He was your professor, you were his assistant, the moral implications of this all… 

Jacob stands and leans back onto the desk, stroking his chin, concerned. Thinking about it all. You can see the nerves climbing through him. He feels embarrassed.

You reach your hand up to your face again, burying your emotions into your skin. 

“I just thought- I, fuck.” He continues, “I thought we were turning a corner, I was looking and I thought I saw you-” 

“You did.” You respond, “...I was looking.”

You lower your hand from your face to stare back at him. You put the manuscript back on the desk and stand. 

“You… You were?” He searches for the answer. 

“Jacob… For months I have looked. I didn’t want to like you. I didn’t want to admit that to myself. My mentor was my heart and soul, she was everything to me. I didn’t want to give you any chances because I didn’t want to lose someone like that again… I can’t handle that heartbreak. But…” You trail off. 

“But?” He inquires. 

You reach for the scotch glass and swirl the liquid around. Staring deep into the stormy amber. 

“Fuck it.” You take the last of the scotch into your mouth and turn back to Jacob, “You… You are what I’ve wanted. I can’t deny the way I feel when it’s just us. When I see you deep in thought, when you push me to go further; when you challenge me. When we’re alone, and I see you for the man you are. When I see how genuinely fucking amazing you are. And I’m so mad at myself for not opening myself to you.” 

Jacob peels himself off the desk and stances himself in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them tenderly in his. You drop your head, your hair falling over your frustrated expression. 

“You were grieving, you wouldn’t have been ready for this.” He reaches his hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

You look up to him with doe eyes. He was the older man, coming in for the prey. You wanted to be his. You wanted to have him. You wanted it. You denied it for months. You denied it from the moment you saw him. You denied yourself to knowing him in fear that this exact moment would happen. But here you were. Unveiling yourself to him in the very place you felt the first attraction. 

“I want to be ready. No, I am ready. I want this. I can’t deny myself happiness because of everything that happened,” You said. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. Trying to test you. 

You nod your head in approval, trying once again to keep the emotions bottled in. 

“I don’t want you to feel any pressure because-”

“Please don’t say it. I know. I know this is all morally fucked up, but I’m an adult, you’re an adult. Just treat me like one.”

He smiles, admiring your maturity, “If you want to do this, there are some things we have to settle first.” 

You look up at him confused, “Things? What things?” 

“More like rules,” He answers, titling his head playfully, “I need to know what you’re comfortable with. I don’t want to scare you even more than you already seem.” 

He returns his hand to hold your face, just like he previously had only moments before.

“I’m not scared Jacob. What rules?”

“As much as I like to be gentle with women, I also enjoy being rough.” He says through a velvety tone

You jolt back, at first fearful of his words, but relax quickly, reminding yourself you don’t need to be scared. 

“How rough are we talking…” You prod. 

The cunning smile returns across his face, “Don’t worry, I don’t leave marks, at least too bad of marks… And only rough enough that you’ll still be wanting more by the time we’re done.” 

You bite your lip at the thought. You’re no virgin at this point in your life, but you’ve never been able to explore this type of intimacy. Every man in college is practically an amateur at pleasuring women and even more so when it comes to exploration in sex. You’ve read plenty of books to know about the type of sex he was talking about. As much as you enjoyed the classics and the light-hearted romance, you still found yourself picking up a steamier romance book in private. 

You wanted that. Had practically dreamed about it before… 

Being here with this man, who was only a few years your senior, felt like you could practice this fantasy safely. He knew what he was doing, he could show you pleasures you didn’t even know you could enjoy. Even if you felt like you couldn’t learn more from your education with him, perhaps there were other things he could teach you. It was all becoming a bit too exciting. 

His hand moves slowly down from your cheek to your waist. His palms gently grazed your spine until they locked in on your love handles. 

“So,” He continues, “Are you going to be my good girl? Can you be good for me? Do you think you can take it?”

You reach out to his chest, moving aside his shirt which had barely been buttoned. With one swipe down his sternum, you unlatched all of them revealing his smooth golden skin. He watched you intently, seeing you explore his skin like never before. You traced your fingers along the opening, feeling your need to reach more grow. With each second that passed you felt the insatiable thirst to be close to him; to feel him. His grip on your waist tightened with each pass you made over his chest. 

His other hand joined him on your opposite side. You feared that your hips may break with his excited hold. You looked up at him, biting your lip, trying to remain coy. That soft smile appeared on his lips; you had answered with your body language. 

He pushes his hands further into you and lifts you onto the desk, your ass barely resting on the edge of the wood. 

“Words,” He said, pulling himself closer into you, resting perfectly between your legs, “Nothing’s going to happen until you tell me you want it to. This isn’t going to work sweetheart unless you use your words.”

“Jacob-” Are the only breathy words that you can mutter. 

You can feel him growing, feel the linen pants barely holding back his excitement. You feel your heartbeat travel from your chest, down into your stomach, into your… 

His hand moves up to your jaw, holding it firmly in his grip, “Y/N, follow the instructions. Words. I’m not going to wait much longer.” 

“Yes-”

Before you can even finish he’s pulling you into an embrace. Your lips meet his. The soft taste of scotch remaining on both of you created an intoxicating addicting feeling. It was complete passion, complete neediness to be one. His tongue introduces itself into your mouth… Soft, wet. Beckoning. The noises you both are making sound feral, completely unusual for the both of you. What once was a prim and proper relationship between you became a fervent desperation to touch… To fuck. 

His hands traveled down your body, first reaching your chest, grasping you completely in his hand. Rolling his palms over the front of your breasts, driving you completely mad. You wished the barriers of clothing had been completely stripped away, but he was too hungry to even keep you waiting for long. His hands reached under your shirt, plowing underneath the wire of your bra to find your naked breasts. A soft relieving moan escaped your lips through the breaths of the kissing. 

You reached your hands out to find the remainder of the buttons of his vest closing you off to his body. You made quick work of unbuttoning them, reaching your hands across his midsection; climbing to his back. Reaching up towards his shoulders, feeling the softness of his skin across the pads of your fingers. God, he was perfect. 

His fingers traveled to your nipples, running his thumb and forefinger over the bud of your nipples. Before you could even realize what you were doing, your nails dragged down his back, raking into his skin. He paused the kissing for a moment to let out a moaning growl. He slid his hands out from your bra, slipping down to the edges of your shirt, attempting to tug it off as fast as he could. You snatched your hands out of his shirt to raise them over your head, giving him complete access to strip you. 

He placed his hand between your breasts and forced you down onto the desk, your head falling onto the manuscript below you. He shook off his vest and was quick to pull his shirt off. 

“Seems like I’m not the only one who likes it rough, huh?” He asked. 

You lifted your head from the desk, “No, definitely not.” You responded. Unsure where this untamed version of you had even come from. 

“No, sir” He stated, pushing you back down. 

“What?” You asked, skeptical of what he meant.    

He mounted himself once again between your legs, grinding himself into you. He traced his finger down your neck, to the waistline of your pants.

“Sir… That’s what my good girls going to call me, okay?” 

You rolled your eyes, unaware that you were even doing so, “Call me Jacob,” you mock, “Call me sir.”

He reached back up to your jaw, pushing his thumb into your cheek, “If you’re going to be a brat we’re going to need to set some more rules. Good girls don’t get punished, but you’re already testing me.”

Completely stunned, you look back at him trying to emulate a softness, an apology. You had to admit though, you weren’t scared of him… If anything you were more turned on by the thought of his punishments. 

“And how would you punish me, sir?” You ask in your best sultry voice. 

He let out a low grumbling laugh. He studied your body, not even acknowledging your question, just thinking… Thinking of what he would do to you. He grabbed onto your hips and pulled you hard into his cock. There was no wondering anymore. You could feel how large he was, how excited he was. If your own body wasn’t blocking it you could probably see it entirely. 

“Maybe,” He starts, “Maybe you’re not going to be my good girl,” His hands dig deeper into your waist, “Maybe, you’re going to be my little slut.” 

The word echoed through the room. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not the feeling of being displeased, it was a feeling of being right. Being here with him, being under his control, felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. He could see you in a way that someone hasn’t seen you for months. He was learning every inch of you and would learn even more as the night went on. 

He leaned down from his high position to plant gentle kisses along your neck. Gingerly leaving behind little reminders of passion. 

“-And if you’re going to be my slut,” He whines through breathy kisses, “you need to know the safe words.” 

You run your hands up to his hair, feeling the soft strands between your fingers. Tracing his scalp over your fingertips. You don’t want to go this slow, the breaks are killing you. You just want to feel him. You want to feel him on you, in you, taking you completely as his own. 

His kisses finally reach the band of your jeans, but that doesnt stop him from exploring further. He pulls down on the jeans to reveal more of your stomach, delivering gentle almost tickling kisses. 

“Green,” He whispers, “Means you like it… You don’t want me to stop.”

His hand travels over to the button of your jeans, popping the metal away from the denim. Your eyes follow him, watching his hair fall over your stomach, the metal of his necklace chilling your bare skin. His shoulders look strong here, masculine, powerful. Watching him focus so intently on you is killing you. This is a man unlike any other that you’ve been with, he’s focused on treating you first, even if there were some other pleasures in it for him. 

“Yellow,” The zipper slowly starts to unravel as he pulls your pants further down, “Means you need me to slow down… If you need a break…” 

Your pants steadily fall off of your legs, finally being exposed to him entirely until they fall onto the floor. The only thing separating you from him now is your thong. Which you are now praising yourself for wearing today. He resumes his consuming kisses across your midsection, joining back down where he had left off. His hands slip underneath him to grab the edges of the lace, sliding off the thong with ease. 

His kisses start to graze you closer to your… 

He stops and lifts himself. His hand leads up to your mouth, putting his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. You accept them, excited for what it means. 

“Red.” His voice develops a more serious tone, “Means stop.” 

He removes his now slick fingers from your mouth, returning them down below. His fingers reach your cunt, and you welcome him with excitement of your own. Your body is in shambles waiting, wanting to know what it feels like. His fingers dance across your aching clit, his thumb padding the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves through your deprived body. A loud distressed moan escapes you, you can’t help but express your enthusiasm. 

“Don’t worry sir,” You shudder through achy moans, “I don’t think I’ll need to use that one.”

“Good girl.”

Without any hesitation his fingers breach you, filling you up. He stands over you, watching you grow with the agony of pleasure. Your breath hitches with each pump, your back arching with each lift of his fingers. His thumb traces back over your clit, stimulating every inch of you. 

Every attempt at communicating the feeling faulters, except for, “Oh fuck-” 

Your body is shaking with each movement. He’s painting the perfect picture of an orgasm with just one hand. The power he holds, the knowledge he has. He knew how to please you better than you knew how to. 

His free hand makes its way around your neck, gripping it, holding you in place so he can work harder at you. You’ve never been choked before, it’s a completely new sensation. The gasps for air were something you thought you’d fear, but instead, you were wishing he’d hold on harder. 

“Green?” He asks, looking for permission. 

You nodded your head ferociously  

You feel yourself completely letting go under his control, something you feared once to let him have all the power. But here, now, held down to his desk… You never wanted it to stop. 

“Words.” He barked. 

Your hand reaches up to hold his wrist, “Yes, yes…” 

“Yes, what?” He asks again, his fingers slowing their movement. Clearly, he wouldn’t be letting you get away with anything. You had to be obedient and do as he told you.

“Yes… Please, Sir,” You beg. 

The words were getting harder to communicate. If he could finger you into oblivion, you might let him if it meant you could feel this good again. 

He smiled in approval and resumed his previous pace. Steadily building faster, and faster. Harder and harder. You could feel how wet you were becoming, it really didn’t take much for him to draw the excitement out of you. The swirls of his fingers and the vigor of his motions were precise… Calculated, trying to accomplish only one mission; and he was close to succeeding. 

Your moaning only got more frequent and louder, you couldn’t hold back. The pleasure was far too great to stay quiet. He almost let you be loud too, only for a few moments before reminding you of your location. He lifted his hand off your neck to lift a single finger to his lips and then pointed around the room. 

“If my good girl can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to make her. We don’t want anyone spoiling all the fun.”

You nod your head, remembering you were still in his office. Your surroundings had escaped you completely; only thinking of him and you. 

His thumb started to apply more pressure, practically begging for you for more. A softer moan forced its way out, helpless to be silenced. His hand plasters itself over your mouth, holding you silent. The pads of his fingers resting deep into your cheeks. 

“I know baby, it’s so hard… You’re gonna be so good and come for me now, okay?” 

Finally being relieved of speaking, you nod your head, ready for the climax. His fingers dive upward, grazing the sweet spot buried inside of you. The pressure, the sensation it’s all too much. You feel your belly tighten, your back arching. He’s trying to hold you steady as you writhe in pleasure. There’s no stopping anything now. 

“Do it baby, come on… Be a good little slut for me…”

Your eyes roll deep back into your head. You feel the sweet sensation of release wash over you. Like a wave of ecstasy, traveling from your toes, past your aching clit, through your belly, all the way to your head. Stifled moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. His fingers stay at their steady pace, pushing past your orgasm. You feel yourself dripping around him. You’ve never come this hard in your life, you’ve never felt the devotion to make you feel this good. Your body is quivering around him, unable to shake the overstimulation. You’re squeezing onto his wrist, trying to come down easy, but everything he’s doing is making the sensations crash into you. 

He takes his hand away from your mouth and you immediately gasp for air, trying to find serenity. 

“Oh god,” You moan, “How did you-”

He shuts you up by taking his mouth to your soaked cunt, sliding his tongue through the mess he made. You place your hands beside you to sit up slightly. This was a sight you did not want to miss. You take his hair in your hands and tuck it aside. Each stripe of his tongue makes you wince, you want him to stop, but you can’t let him. It feels too good. It’s too much but just the right amount all at once. 

He was consuming you, desperate to explore every inch of you. Wildly eating you up, trying to capture every last drop of his work. You were spilling into him, it was never-ending.  It was like you weren’t even there; everything except your pusy. This was a high that you never wanted to come down from. He was devoted to keeping you there as long as he could, but you couldn’t hold on for more. 

You fell back onto the desk, squirming through it all. He had you right where he wanted you. You let yourself fall into him, trying to take it all. Your hands reach over the desk, trying to find somewhere to hang onto, but instead knocking the scotch glass off the desk. Shattering loudly beneath you. 

Jacob didn’t stop though, he was completely distracted, locked in. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Yellow.. Yellow..” You begged, completely overstimulated and shocked. How could you even ask for that?... But it was impossible to withstand any more sensation. 

He stopped slowly, easing you out of the enjoyment. His hands reached up over your thighs and rested on your hips, slowly petting them with his thumbs. He looked up at you through glazed-over eyes, completely drunk on your arousal. He didn’t want it to end. 

Slowly raising himself back to a standing position, you could see how hard he had gotten. He felt just as much pleasure as you did. He was completely lost, coming back to reality. Chin dripping with your wetness… 

He leaned back over you and kissed you sloppily. The passion was more fiery than before. You did something to him and he did even more to you. It was strange to taste yourself on his lips, but exciting nonetheless. You were caught up together. Complete and one at that moment. And then it all stopped… 

Footsteps approached outside the classroom. You both stopped. He removed himself from your lips and raised his head to listen. 

A knock at the classroom door. 

“Hello?” Someone called out. 

There was no mistaking that someone was in this office, between the music, the glass breaking… They knew. 

“Everything okay in here Kiszka?” 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. He stands and reaches for his shirt, buttoning it with no haste. He grabs your shirt and pants and kicks them under the desk, “Go, get underneath the desk,” He whispers, “Now.”

[kumezyzo]

corpse x faceless streamer cause it has more plot...

anyway, enjoy! or dont :) m.list

as cliche and over-used as it is, you met bf!corpse in an among us lobby. but you two had heard of eachother before, seeing as youre in the same faceless community.

your followings seemed to have a lot of crossover, so when you met, it was a dream come true for your communites. and for you two, it was nice having someone understand what it was like to be faceless.

overtime, you two grew closer, hanging out outside of streams. and at some point, you got comfortable enough eachothers faces.

when your chat found out, it became the only thing they could talk about for a good two days on twitter.

"guys, corpse looks really cool," you said to your chat. you and corpse were streaming on your channel, just talking and catching up. his scoff made you giggle quietly. "im not joking, he's kinda... attractive."

"and yn looks nothing like how she described herself," he said, laughing at how much prettier he thought you were.

"and his hair is actually curly," you say.

then, you both went on anthony padilla's channel as a part of his 'I spent a day with...' series. and you revealed that you were doing the interview on the same day.

"i mean, corpse is the only other youtuber that knows what i look like," you state simply. "if im honest, the main reason im here is because this is the first time im meeting up with him in person."

thankfully, no one was suprised when they heard that in the video. but thats just because corpse posted a video of you two playing rock-paper-scissors.

it started off silent, you two doing the motions silently. corpse played scissors, you played rock. he sighed. another up and down motion. he played scissors, you played paper. you took a deep breath. another up and down. he played rock, you played rock. you scoffed and cracked your knuckles. one more time. he played paper, you played scissors.

"fuck!" he yelled loudly as you laughed manaically in the background.

during this meet up, you stayed at his apartment. and it just so happened you got to spend more time with him. slowly, you both started developing further feelings for eachother.

it showed itself in you two being cuddly, touchy with eachother. both of you tiptoeing round the topic of the weird dynamic. neither of you actually choosing to say anything or admit your feelings.

it really set in when he started unironically calling you "baby". it gave you butterflies and he felt his face heat up as the words left his mouth.

and when you had to leave, it was far more intense than you had expected.

"thank you for letting me stay here," you told him greatfully. he smiled softly at you, going in for a hug. you smiled and felt yourself melt into his arms.

you two pulled away briefly, looking into eachothers eyes. you dont know when it really happened, but the next moment, youre lips are on eachothers.

when you went back home, it was like you two know you were dating. but you never actually said it. it just felt right.

this is kinda like a prequel to this beautiful shit. i also know no one requested this (or at least i could find one when i went to check cause this was in my notes for way too long) -Nony

[solaireverie]

dr3 | deep blue but you painted me golden

part one — i polish up real nice

[ series masterlist ] part 2 | part 3 | part 4

pairings: daniel ricciardo x f!leclerc!rbr driver!reader, lestappen

summary: [ social media au ] y/n joins red bull and stirs shit up! ft. lestappen's oblivious flirting and danny's impeccable pr training

warnings: language

faceclaim: barbara palvin + random faceless checo pics

author’s note: i first came up with the last post of this series (stay tuned!) and it kind of snowballed into whatever this is 😂 i played fast and loose with the timeline. suspend your disbelief. anyways, enjoy!

Daniel Ricciardo Talks About Red Bull and What Comes Next — The Late Show with Stephen Colbert

liked by charles_leclerc, redbullracing, pierregasly and 459,157 others

yourusername looking forward to racing with an undying commitment to winning 👊 thank you so much @.redbullracing for the opportunity to join the fastest team in the paddock

view comments

charles_leclerc super fier de toi 💙 mais ferrari est toujours la meilleure [ super proud of you but ferrari is still the best ]

↪��yourusername si ça te chante 🙄 🥰 [ whatever floats your boat ]

user not the caption 😭😭

↪ user she definitely saw the interview 😭😭

↪ user christian did say that rbr thought it was "right" to bring daniel back to the team 👀 which team and in which capacity though... 🤔

↪ user praying y/n isn't the next victim of the red bull second seat curse 🔮🧘🙏🕯

user y/n didn't hesitate at ALL with the speed comment huh 💀

↪ user i mean she's not wrong, red bull are currently the fastest and if they keep their momentum they'll completely dominate this season

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, danielricciardo and 519,238 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, yourusername

redbullracing Pre-Season Testing sees us go fastest as Max and Y/n record fantastic numbers 💪

user holy shit we all know that y/n is a rookie but can we just appreciate her pace during testing??? that's insane for anyone, let alone a driver who's still getting used to the car

↪ user i've been saying it for months y/n could 100% be the next big thing for f1

↪ user can't wait to watch an actual race 🤩

liked by yourusername

user hear me out, rbr 1-2 in bahrain 👀

↪ redbullracing what dreams are made of! 🙌

user y/n proving all the haters wrong we love to see it!

liked by yourusername

↪ user danny would still do better though 😤

↪ user well he's not the one in the cockpit so wouldn't it make more sense to just support y/n as well?

liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 1,258,976 others

yourusername never in my wildest dreams did i think this day would come. getting my first podium in my first formula 1 race is absolutely insane to think about. i don't have words to describe the joy i feel.

thank you to @.redbullracing for giving me this chance, thank you to the fans for cheering me on, and most importantly, thank you to my family for supporting me in chasing my dreams ❤️

i promise i'll keep making you proud. p2, baby!

view comments

charles_leclerc that's my baby sister 😍

↪ yourusername we were born a year and a half apart.

↪ charles_leclerc yeah well max and i are only 16 days apart and he still calls me a baby

↪ yourusername i— you know what, you're hopeless 💀

liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly, arthur_leclerc

maxverstappen1 congratulations y/n 😁

liked by charles_leclerc

↪ yourusername thank you max!

danielricciardo 👏👏👏

liked by yourusername

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

masterlist

[romanreignseater]

This Is Cinema.

Jey Uso x Black Female Reader

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; consensual pornography & rough times 🤫.

“You know what they say about the Bloodline, them boys make CINEMA!!”

A/N: That Jimmy fic is on hold until further notice 😤 (that boy made me so mad). I do have another Jey fic, but this was TOOO good for me to not upload first!! Hope you enjoy 💋!!”

GIF: @jeygif

Another day of work, another asshole to deal with.

Or so you thought.

Working as “pornstar”, but your preferred term of “adult film star”, was something you didn’t see yourself doing when you were a teen. The idea of getting nude in front of a camera with loads of crew surrounding as you do something that seems so sacred was weird to you back then. But, once college didn’t work out, you had other plans.

One of your homegirls who started off doing porn and soon ventured into the world of OnlyFans gave you the idea to start. And honestly… it was one of the best decisions you’ve made!!

You were soon living lavishly in Tampa, Florida, with $6 million to your name, the most gorgeous mansion, a brand new bright pink Range Rover, the cutest teacup poodle named Rex, food in your fridge, and bills paid. All in under a year.

Regardless of what people may say about you on the internet… sweetheart they were paying your bills.

You were working with some of the best in the industry and millions of views on those videos. Your career seemed to be at its pinnacle, but your manager informed you that there was a group of men starting off in the industry and absolutely taking over. In a little over five months, they were rated the top pornstars in the world.

Hundreds of millions of views on each of their videos and numerous women wanting to start a career just to be able to be near them. Working with them would not only boost your career even further, but to get a chance to fuck a handsome ass Samoan, yes please. In the words of your manager, “We gotta get that dick.”

An interesting choice of words, but you trusted every piece of advice she gave you. Soon, you were on a flight to the ATL to meet up with one of the members of the infamous group.

Doing your research the night prior to your flight, there were three brothers and a cousin. Roman, the cousin, was the oldest and definitely the biggest. A set of twins, Jimmy and Jey, and their younger brother, Solo, who didn’t look so little.

Roman was the one who wasn’t the most booked, as he only worked with the best of the best. Viewers only seeing his work every once in a while. But, when he dropped a video you knew it was gonna be heat. The absolute passion in his strokes and darkness in his eyes made you bite your lip at his raw manly magnitude.

Jimmy was fairly booked, with his whole month practically full. Most of his content involved acting with a lot of backstory. Really diving deep into massive rounds of role play and foreplay. That boy didn’t play games once that time came around though.

Next was Solo. He was working with a lot of underground stars and still reaching the levels of the ones older than him. Yet, he picked up those levels quick. Reaching the heights of his family and making women reach their climax at the same time.

But, the one who really caught your eyes was Jey. He was the definition of your ideal man. His warm-looking tan skin, his beautiful curly mullet, sexy ass style, big meaty thighs and muscles, and those grills. The way he fucked made you shrivel in your panties. He was a beast with a lot of mouth, just the way you liked it. His style consisted more of an interview at the beginning with a little foreplay and then straight to business. Asking girls about what turns them on the most and what he’s gonna do to them. Making each and every woman who set foot near him blush heavily.

And let’s not get started about that dick.

Definitely a 9-incher, big and heavy looking balls that laid nicely underneath his cock. A luscious pink mushroom tip, with meaty veins that trailed down to his trimmed hair. Now, it’s getting really hot and the thoughts of what he could do to you couldn’t stop dancing around your head.

After some more internet stalking, the time flew by and your flight approached.

Knowing that he stayed in ATL made you absolutely happy. Your manager wouldn’t let you know who exactly you’d be working with, but as soon as you saw your ticket, you knew you were in for a treat and rude awakening.

Dressing your absolute best in a grey Skims shirt and matching miniskirt, that barely covered your ass… perfect.

Wig secured down by some industrial glue and an opt out for the lashes, knowing they’d come off. But, mascara is a must.

On your way there, you couldn’t contain the excitement you felt. Watching some of his work that night before and earlier that day, you knew what he liked, how he acted, and how he wanted it. All the little things that made him tick and shiver.

You were seriously on demon time.

Even though, you felt as though you were throughly experienced and quite the pro. The flashing lights and big cameras still made you very nervous. In the beginning, your parents weren’t very supportive, but once they saw you had a roof over your head and food to eat, that’s all that mattered to them. But, sometimes the days didn’t get any easier. Luckily, your manager was a real one and knew how to calm you down.

After meeting all members of the crew, and the camera and director you and Jey would be working closely with today, you got touched up as you awaited Jey’s arrival.

“Nervous?!” The makeup artist asked you. Laughing slightly, you nonchalantly ignored your jitters and told her you were fine. All that anxious behavior would only arise and the man of the hour arrived.

He looked absolutely scrumptious in a pair of white joggers and a white Nike Tech with no shirt on underneath. His Cuban link chains shining in the sunlight and his cross earring dangling from his one ear.

Your cunt just throbbed at the sight of him. “Hello Ms. Y/N?! Is anyone in there?!” Completely zoned out and you didn’t even realize it, Jey waved his big hand in your face to catch your attention. His dimple prominent as he was quite amused by your expression.

“Hey Jey nice to meet you. Sorry… I just zoned out for a second.” Reaching out to shake his hand, he kindly refused. “It’s no problem, but I don’t shake hands I’m more of a hugger.” Flustered by his comment you arose from your chair and were soon enveloped into his burly arms.

His arms were thick and wrapped around your waist securely, his warm chest pressed against yours, as you felt your nipples harden. The feeling of his semi-hard dick rest against your thigh made you bit your lip and hold your arms around his neck tighter. “You out here showing out, I see you and your little miniskirt.” Spinning you around at 180 degrees, he stopped when your back faced his front.

Obviously entertained by his comments, you decided to show out a little more. Bending over slightly and giving him a little shake, Jey took the opportunity to give your ass an ample smack. “Uh oh, we got a lotta chemistry over here, don’t we?!” The producer of our film walked over to us as we were sharing a moment.

Both of us blushed at the producers comments. Damn right we have chemistry, but we really are gonna see once those cameras turn on. “But, we need more of that on the screen, so let’s get filming.” Turning back around to you, Jey gave you a wet kiss on the cheek and winked at you as he headed to the living room.

He is something else.

————————————————————————

“In 5, 4, 3, 2… 1.”

“Alright, well look at who we have here. We got the Queen of Screams, Y/N in the building. And the Leader Beater, Jey.” Both of us have a wave and proper introduction to the camera as we laughed at the names the producer gave us.

“I just gotta say you guys just sitting next to each other is already a movie.”

“Maybe I need to move a little more closer to him then.” Snuggling up by his side as gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Jey’s arm was placed on the back of the couch with his legs fully spread, giving a beautiful of his already hard dick. You crossed you legs to staf off that feeling of what he would do to you tonight.

“You already know what it is Uce. I got one of the baddest in the game next to me and I’ve been waiting to get my hands on that ass.”

“Ooooo, Jey got all the smoke about you Y/N. You know that ass is viral!!”

Rolling you eyes slightly, you casually smirked as you began to open your mouth. “I got all the smoke behind him too. I’ve been waiting to dig into him for a while.” Your hand left your right thigh as you palmed him through his white sweats, feeling all of his girth.

“Okayyy, Jey how we feeling about that?!!”

“I’m feeling real good about that Uce. Like the feeling is only rising from here.” Removing your hand from his length, you put your head down as you laughed at his comment.

“She bout to be a REALLLL problem Uce!!” Jey’s hand traveled from the back of the couch to your ass as he palmed and massaged it. Returning the favor, you returned your hand back onto his dick.

“Tim, you need to speed this up a little don’t you think?!” Biting your lip and looking Jey dead in his chocolate brown eyes.

“She’s on demon time Jey.”

Jey simply nodded his head at the camera with a smile on his face as you threw your head back in laughter. “But, you gotta show me a little something bae.”

“What you wanna see?!”

Jey intently stared at your chest, barely taking his eyes off of them. “I think he wants to see my tits.” You giggled as you sensually removed your top, letting your breasts out on full display. Jey took a sharp intake of his breath as he admired your ample assets. You played with them first as you stuck your tongue out of your mouth, letting your saliva drip down onto them.

“Why yo ass so scared Jey?!” He quickly snapped out of your trance and gave you a questioning look. “I ain’t ever scared.”

“Prove it.”

Jey dove straight into the middle of your breasts, motorboating himself. You giggled as you took the back of his head into your hands. Things took a sharp turn when he massaged both of your sensitive breasts in his hands and began sucking on each nipples. Covering them in the upmost amount of saliva.

Bringing himself back into an upright position, he sat back and played with your tits. In awe of the dangly Hello Kitty nipple piercing you had on your right tit. “That fuckin’ piercing go crazy Uce, get a closeup on that.” As the cameraman went in to get a closeup, Jey shook your tits from side to side giving himself and the viewers a show.

“He’s having a lot of fun.” Jey gave the camera another sly look as he continued to play with your breasts. “But, I know he’s gonna have more fun with this.” Removing his hands from you, your chest now faces the back of the couch and your knees now pressed up against the seat cushion. You could hear a whistle coming from Jey’s mouth as you gently shook your ass, letting your miniskirt rise showcasing your lovely pink thong.

“This what I’m taking about baby.” Jey bit his lip as his head neared your ass, giving it a wonderful spank, kiss, and caress. “I’m done with this. I’m ready to get in the field.”

“Wow Y/N, I don’t think we’ve ever seen Jey skip over the interview so fast. We got only about four minutes of footage.”

“Four minutes is enough, come baby.” You yelped as Jey took you into his arms and walked to the bed placed off camera.

“I guess I just got the magic touch.”

“Damn right she do. Take that shit off for me mama.”

Tossing you onto the plush bed, you followed his orders and removed your skirt and panties. Your cunt on full display: wet, warm, pink, and soft. You began to play with your pearl as you stared into Jey’s now dark eyes. He slowly started to undo the ties in his sweats. “Keep playing with it baby, I need that pussy real wet when I fuck it.”

Him telling you to continue masturbating in front of him already drove you over the edge, but wanting you real wet when he fucked you, sent you to the moon.

“Unhhh… my pussy’s so wet for you daddy.” Jey was now in his PSD boxers, playing with his clothed cock at the same pace as you. You both stared sensually into each others eyes as Jey finally became nude. Your eyes couldn’t help but to trail down to his massive length, taking in all its magnificent glory.

“Yo ass looking at it real bad, come give it a taste.” Swiftly, you positioned yourself ass up face down as you took his dick into your small hands. Licking at his swollen head, you captured his bead of pre-cum. Closing your eyes and savoring the taste.

Jey’s head leaned back as you enveloped his entire cock into your mouth, all the way to the base. “Fuckkk, that throat ain’t no joke for real.” Not only were you known for your ass, the way you seemed to swallow a dick up so easily was also a topic of discussion.

You sloppily cover his entire length in your saliva, balls and all. You barely even gagged as he reached the back of your throat. Jey’s head lolled back as he revel in the feeling of your throat swallowing him whole like it was nothing. Bobbing your head up and down, twirling circles around his dick, and playing with his balls. “I-I-I-I c-an’t.”

Jey immediately pushed you away as he shivered at the immense amount of pleasure he was receiving, that he had to stop you. “We can’t be going too crazy so fast now. Stay bent over like that baby.” Arching your back even further, Jey assumed the position behind you.

Massaging your ass oh so heavenly. “That ass is something dangerous mama.” Blushing, you began to shake your ass back reaching to feel his dick. He just stood still as he admired your lewd attempts to fuck yourself against him.

Your pussy finally found his cock and you moaned as you gently pushed it into yourself. “Oooo Daddy, that feels so good already.” Jey grabbed your hips in order to get himself inside of you faster. “That pussy so tighttt.”

You bit your lip and looked into the camera as Jey bottomed out into you and began fucking you slowly. “Hey Jey, I swear you got more than that. Give the girl what she wants.”

Jey paused as you looked back at him. “Many girls can’t handle this and then they tap out.”

“I don’t tap out sweetheart. Do your worst.”

Jey pushed your head down into the mattress, as well as pushing your back down slightly more. He spread your legs further and held your juicy hips. He whispered to the camera, “She ain’t ready.”

Jey soon began to absolutely berating your cunt into oblivion. Your nails almost broke as you clawed at the sheets so roughly. Your ass bounced off of his taut abs as if a basketball was being dribbled on a court.

Your screams muffled into the mat as he didn’t cease his ministrations. His hand stayed trained on the back of your head as your nails scratched up his forearm.

“I told you yo’ ass ain’t ready. Tell the world your ass wasn’t ready!!” He pulled your head up as your face was covered in mascara stained tears and forced you to stare into the camera. The cameraman moved to get a closeup. “Tell the world yo’ ass can’t take it.”

Eyes rolled all the way to the back of your head and a big smile on your face, you proudly spoke. “I ca—n take i-i-it wo-rld.” A moan in each break of your sentence as you took Jey’s dick like a champ.

“She lasted longer than the rest, I ain’t gonna lie.” Your head fell back into the sheets as pulled both of your arms to your lower back. You soon began squirting and screaming like a mad woman, nearly as if someone was murdering you.

Well… you were definitely getting murdered in a different way.

“Fuckkkk, baby I’m about to cum. Keep squeezing me just like that.”

Your cunt never stopped clenching as Jey’s cum soon entered your quaking pussy. Jey beat seven hard strokes into your cunt, ensuring that he got every single drop into you.

You shivered as he left the warmth of pussy. You lied back against the bed and but your lip as Jey gave you a sloppy wet kiss.

“How was that guys?!”

“That was cinema.” We said in unison.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE END.

I actually think this is my longest fic to date. Why are all my Jey fics so long?!?! I wanna do a Roman fic give some ideas for Big Uce 💝💝🤪!!!

MY TAG SQUAD: @cyberdejos2 @thesamoanqueen @nayys-world @mzv11 @babybatlover @vogueyonce @harlem11680 @seeingstarks @thewarlordsworld @alyyaanna @southerngirl41 @christinabae @pitlissa22 @thealliasylum @fame-ass-ers @iluvthebloodline @jeyusos-girl @ah-fin3sse @solosikoasgf @msbigredmachine @rollinsland @angelicflower2020 @theogsamoanqueen @saintsvenust @angelreigns444

[digitaldiarystuff]

FRIENDS?

Hello everyone, this is my digital diary which I’ll pour what’s in my head. Hope you enjoy my writing and feel free to reach out to me!

— — — —

summary: you’ve met Jude through your close friend which put you in the same friend group but even though you’ve fancied him from the jump you’re also scared because you know how footballers can be

pairing: Y/N - Jude Bellingham

genre: angst / fluff

— — — —

“Are you done putting the decorations up?” your friend Chris asked. This was his christmas party and you were helping him add the finishing touches.

“Yeah I’m almost done. Don’t worry it’s going to be great.” you said reassuringly.

“I know but this is my first christmas in Madrid and I want everything to be perfect.” he said coming to the living room to see the final product.

You have known Chris since you were in high school, your parents knew each other and you were cordial until the end of high school when you both decided to move to a bigger city. You, for education and him to pursue his music career which has been great so far. He had put out 2 albums in 2 years and had big success.

When you were new to the city, you two bonded over the loneliness you sometimes felt and that prompted your close friendship. Even as he gained followers and became famous, he made sure you were with him. He invited you to events, referred to you as a sister in interviews.

“It’s going to be amazing!” you exclaimed as the doorbell rang. He went to open the door welcoming his friends which consisted of some influencers, producers and even one or two footballers who listened to him and invited him to games.

You hugged them as everyone was coming in and complimenting the party and you. Being one of the few people who wasn’t a celebrity, you’ve put a lot of effort into your appearance tonight. You wanted to look good.

“Hello, darling.” you heard someone say and you absolutely knew who he was. It was Jude freaking Bellingham. You’ve met Jude through Chris as well and you’ve formed a semi close friendship over the last couple months, though you couldn’t help but develop a massive crush on the guy from the day you’ve seen him. He was everything you’d wanted, handsome, nice, sassy, tall and funny but you always remained cool. Even though you sometimes felt his eyes on you for too long or his hand on the small of your back, you knew how they were and you couldn’t blame him. He’s in his prime and playing for one of the most prestigious clubs in the world, he could get anyone he wanted and you reminded yourself that a couple of times a day just to get him out of your mind.

“Hi Jude!” you said and hugged him.

“You look incredible.” he said while his nose was in your hair, the hug lasted an eternity before you decided to pull back.

“Thank you, you look great too.” you said slightly blushing. He had this kind of effect on you, he said things that wouldn’t normally make you feel things like this. He really looked amazing, though. He was wearing a black button up shirt since this was a special occasion but you knew whatever he was wearing didn’t matter he just was devastatingly handsome.

“Okay, let’s get this party started!” Chris yelled as everyone around you cheered including Jude.

It had been a couple of hours into the party and everyone was pretty wasted at this point. You were also a little dizzy but not too bad. It was going great with games and traditions and right now you were sitting on the couch between Chris and Sofie, one of your friends and playing cards when your eyes caught Jude’s. He was out by the pool and drinking alone, deep in thoughts.

You excused yourself and went over to him. He didn’t notice you until you were just in front of him.

“Don’t party this much, you might regret it tomorrow.” you said in a teasing voice.

“How can I enjoy myself if you’re far from me?” he asked in the same tone.

“I-you could’ve come to me.” you mumbled in a newly found confidence. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that last glass of champagne.

“You wanna sit?” he asked as he slides on the sunbed. You carefully sat next to him hoping you weren’t in his space much but on the contrary, Jude felt like you were too far away and gently placed his hand on your waist pulling you closer.

“This is better.” he mumbled, clearly more intoxicated than you’ve ever seen him. He was always a flirty person with you but this was next level.

“What were you thinking?” you asked suddenly remembering seeing him sitting alone silently.

“I wasn’t thinking of anything.” he answered but you just raised your brow.

“What? I wasn’t!” he said like a kid that’s been caught.

“I know you better than that Bellingham.” you said.

“Well, if you really know me, you tell me what I was thinking.”

“That’s not how this works!” you exclaimed laughing. He joined after hearing you.

“I was thinking about you.”

“What were you thinking about me?”

“I was thinking” he trailed off. You decided to wait and not pester him.

“…about you.” he confessed and looked up to your eyes staring intensely. It’s like he was trying to read your thoughts about his confession.

“Jude” you said, sighing. You wanted to believe his words so bad but seeing every footballer you know being a player, you found it hard to believe.

“Y/N” he said in the same tone, trying to get your attention to him.

“It’s true, I was thinking of you.” he tried again.

“You’re just drunk.” you chuckled slightly trying to lift the mood. You were in denial, hoping he would just stop this before you say how you feel about him embarrassing yourself because you were too close to saying how you always think about him as well.

“I am.” he accepted. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

You gulped and your eyes closed for a second before you opened them again and saw him even closer than before. Your eyes shifted to his lips and he watched your every move carefully. Just as he was leaning in, one of your drunken friends yelled out to you stating she was going home before being sick. You turned to her immediately afraid that she’d realize what’s going on but she was too wasted to even see anything. You got up and went to her without even glancing at Jude embarrassed about being this afraid. It wasn’t like you haven’t thought about kissing him, it was just you knew he was drunk and didn’t want to be just someone for him to spend the night with and leave without caring.

One by one, everyone started leaving. It was just Chris, his situationship, you, 2 of his friends and Jude. The night had slowed down and you were just on the couch talking about life until Chris took his lady’s hand and took her upstairs before telling you to crash wherever you want to.

You started cleaning up before going up to the guest bedroom that was designated for you. You took a trash bag from the kitchen trying to empty plates until you felt another presence in there with you. It was Jude.

“Did they leave?” you asked, trying to make conversation. You were still pretty nervous about your moment out by the pool.

“Yeah.” he said shortly. Just as he was bringing the glasses on the counter he stumbled and nearly broke them before pulling himself together.

“You’re barely walking straight, just stop Jude.” you said laughing.

“No, I’m not!” he said offended.

“C’mon.” you said taking his hand in yours to help him balance, taking him to the guest bedroom. He drove there and there’s no way you were letting the starboy of football drunk drive on christmas.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked like a child.

“The guest bedroom, you need to sleep.”

He didn’t protest, just followed you but held your hand harder. Just then you realized how you were holding hands but didn’t want to make it awkward and pull your hand back.

You entered the room followed by Jude and sat him on the bed. He still didn’t let go of your hand. You tried pulling back but he didn’t let you.

“Jude, you need to rest.” you said smiling softly.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’m going downstairs to clean up a little and rest too.” you explained.

“Where?”

You actually now realized this is the only spare bedroom in Chris’ home.

“On the couch.” you said sounding more like a question.

“No you’re not.” he said making you sit down with him.

“Yes I am, we can’t fit in one bed.” you said terrified about the possibility of sleeping next to Jude. You already knew you couldn’t even relax just hold your breath the entire night.

“Are you calling me fat?” he asked, smiling.

“No, I’m calling you big.”

“I heard girls like that.” he smugly said. Of course girls liked it, especially me.

“Well, some girls do.”

“And you don’t?” he asked curiously.

“Jude, you’re wasted. Just sleep.” you said trying to change the subject.

“I’m not even tipsy Y/N. I’ve only had 2 beers.” he said like it was obvious.

“What-Well you looked drunk.” you said shocked.

“That was the only way to get you to pay attention to me. Look, you’re taking care of me.” he said motioning your intertwined hands.

“Well, that’s what friends are for.” you said looking down.

“Yeah, friends do that. But we’re not friends.” he said before leaning in and capturing your lips with his and kissing you softly.

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 2.3

2.1 || 2.2 || [here] || 2.4

in todays part: what did chrissy mean by multiple options? is eddie still gonna be standoffish? we’ll see! :D i hope y’all enjoy this part :)

ignore how uhh unrealistic this is lmao it’s very handwavy about pretty much everything &lt;3

About a week later, just a few days before they were set to leave, Steve and Robin pulled into the address that Chrissy had given them. He was surprised to see that it appeared to be a Universal Home and RV lot. He spotted Chrissy and Eddie standing at the entrance of the building, so pulled up next to the car that was parked near by, having seen Eddie get into it during the in-person ‘interview’.

"Hey, guys!" Chrissy greeted cheerfully. Her warm, summer scent immediately let Steve know she was an omega, which he somehow hadn't known before. He wasn't really surprised, if he was honest.

"Hi Chrissy! Eddie," Steve responded, with a slight nod and shy smile to the alpha.

To his surprise, Eddie smiled warmly and greeted him, “Hey, Steve.”

"And you must be Robin," Chrissy said, reaching a hand out to shake the trembling alpha's.

Steve glanced at Robin to gauge her reaction and grinned at the enamored look she had on her face. He nudged her gently, startling her out of it.

“Oh- um- yes! That’s me! Robin! It is so nice to meet you in person, Chrissy,” Robin reciprocated the handshake. Steve noticed she looked like she was about to go on one of her rambles and decided to spare her the mortification. While Steve, and he doubted anyone else, didn’t mind it, he knew that Robin hated when she couldn’t stop talking.

Steve thought it added to her charm.

Robin thought he was full of shit.

“I can’t help but notice we’re at a dealership,” Steve said, interrupting whatever nonsense was about to cone out of Robin’s mouth. She shot him a grateful look, to which he returned a smile.

“Yes! So, as we discussed, we—Hell’s Fire Records—are responsible for your traveling expenses,” she explained with an easy grin. “The best way to do that, we figured, was to get you your own transportation. And because you two already live together, we figured we could do two birds with one stone and get you guys an RV.”

Steve and Robin stared at the other two in shocked silence, mouths open.

Steve was the first to recover, “You- that’s not- we can’t just accept an entire RV,” he breathed, shaking his head.

Eddie tilted his head with a small grin, “It’s part of the contract you signed.” he explained, “both of you did.” he added with a nod towards Robin.

Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but he'd only had Robin give it a once over. She had said everything looked fine. He supposed, this was probably ‘fine’ in her opinion.

“When it said ‘all travel and accommodations expenses paid’, I expected like, gas reimbursement, or paying for hotel rooms,” Steve exclaimed in distress, “not, fuckin’, an entire RV?”

“Oh, that’s also included,” Chrissy cheerfully explained, as if this was normal and not at all insane. Steve let out a noise that was definitely embarrassing for him to have made, but he couldn’t hold it in.

Eddie’s face softened at the sound, “Steve, we want you guys to be comfortable on the road, and you need space to teach Elodie in.”

Robin seemed to snap out of the reverie she had fallen into just then, “I mean,” she started hesitantly, turning to Steve, “they’re not wrong.”

“What?” Steve asked, turning to her in shock.

“I did see something like this in the contract,” she admitted sheepishly, “I just didn’t think that it would be an RV they bought for us. But it makes sense, because you can use part of the RV for a little classroom.”

Steve brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. He took a deep breath, and tried to calm his racing heart.

“Okay. Alright, fine. I guess,” he huffed, still not exactly happy with the information.

“Great!” Chrissy exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She turned towards the building and signaled to someone, which led to someone immediately appearing by their group.

“Ah, Mr. Harrington and Ms. Buckley, lovely to meet you,” the man said, smiling warmly. “My name is Winston Graves, but you may call me Winston. Ms. Cunningham told us a little about what we’re looking for and I chose three RVs for us to view today..”

Then the man was off, leading the group towards the center of the lot. Steve followed reluctantly and listened intently at the description of each of the RVs that Winston had chosen.

One had a bed on top of the drivers seat and a small bedroom at the back of the RV, with a living and a kitchen space between them, as well as a tiny bathroom between the kitchen and the back bedroom.

The second just had two twin beds in the same room at the back of the RV, and the last one was similar in layout, just a bit bigger in size.

Steve was torn between choosing one of the cheaper options—the last two described—or choosing the option that was better for what he needed to do while traveling, but was more expensive. He and Robin discussed it quietly, just out of ear shot of both Chrissy and Eddie.

“It’s more money, Robs,” he seethed quietly.

“You need enough room for a mini classroom,” Robin hissed back with a frown. “Besides, either way, we don’t owe them anything out of this. They’re buying it for us. It’s basically already paid for.”

Steve crossed his arms with a scowl. “You know I hate taking handouts,” he muttered, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

His family was rich, but even before he had been disowned because of his secondary gender, his family was weird about money. They often would buy him something and then expect something in return. For his sixteenth birthday, his biological father had bought him a car. Then, after, lorded it over him to be taken away if he didn’t do exactly what they wanted.

Not that Steve had been able to keep the car after his presentation. He hadn’t. His father had it towed and then probably sold it after.

To say he didn’t enjoy when people bought things for him was an understatement. He felt he had to prove himself to earn it.

“It’s literally part of the contract. Legally, they have to buy this for us,” Robin reminded gently, trying to control her scent to soothe Steve easier.

Steve’s nostrils flared as he scented her and he let out a sigh, “Fine. I think we should choose the first one.” he grumpily admitted.

Robin grinned, “Was that so hard?” she teased with no heat, leading them back to the others to share their decision.

“I’m glad you chose that one,” Eddie said, giving Steve a significant look, as if he knew exactly how their conversation had gone.

Steve smiled tensely and shrugged helplessly. “I needed to chose what would be best for Elodie,” he claimed. It was true, but that didn’t mean he had to like the decision.

“Alrighty!” Winston said enthusiastically, probably because he was about to make good commission, which Steve couldn’t fault the man for. He couldn’t tell what his designation was, likely due to some business mandated scent blockers, but Steve guessed he was either a beta or an alpha, based on how he held himself. Everyone was led into the building, and while Steve and Robin had to sign papers, Chrissy and Eddie were taking care of the payment. Steve felt a bit sick looking at the amount of money that was being spent and tried to remind himself that it was for Elodie.

Once they were done, Steve and Robin waited for the other two to finish doing the payment. The look on the employees face was pure joy, and while Steve wasn’t sure if he got more commission when someone paid in full, he was sure that it definitely didn’t hurt.

“At least we can bring more stuff now,” Robin said quietly beside him. Steve tore his gaze away from the others and looked at her.

“That’s true,” he hummed, tapping his fingers restlessly against the opposite bicep. “We’ll probably be able to drive it to our apartment so packing is easier.”

“Oh! I didn’t even think about that. Does that mean I get to drive?” Robin asked excitedly. While Steve was the primary driver—when they did drive—Robin had her license.

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’, rolling his eyes afterwards.

“Fuck yeah,” Robin cheered quietly.

“Alright, here are the two sets of keys,” Eddie said, holding his hands out to each of them. Steve startled and gripped his chest with a gasp.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, relaxing as he reached out and grabbed the keys, “you startled me.”

“Just ‘Eddie’, actually,” the alpha teased with a wry grin. Steve’s cheeks turned pink, and he rolled his eyes in response.

“Ha ha,” he said sarcastically with a huff.

The four of them walked out of the dealership together. Someone must have pulled the RV around front while they had filled out the paperwork and paid, as it was parked next to the cars. Steve let himself be a little excited about the prospect of having an RV—it was one of his dream vehicles, even as a pup. He dreamt of having a family he traveled with. His heart sank, but he shook off the feeling, refusing to feel worse about getting the RV than he already felt.

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[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Under the mask

Kinktober day 2

Paring: fem!reader x Ghostface!amab!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, DUB!CON, Dom!Nat, Sub!Reader, implied murder, blow job, unprotected sex, riding, Daddy kink (I’m sorry), stalker behavior, clit play, slight dumbification

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

Masterlist- kinktober

A ghost made it was through your hometown. Hiding in the shadows to wait patiently for its next victim. The community in your city was terrified to say the least. The police was useless having no idea who the gruesome could be. The only clue which they did have that the killer must be a male. No woman could be this sadistic they thought, they suspect. Oh how wrong they were. Why the cops interviewed some innocent man Natasha made her way through the cold city. This years October was especially cold leaving anyone outside to freeze especially at this hour. However Natasha was burning in desire. Desire for you. She was watching you for a week now, her body was longing for your youth and sexuality. You were different than her other victims she didn’t want to kill you. Not yet. She wanted you to be hers. There was only one problem; your boyfriend.

You were alone tonight like so often you tried to call Peter to see if he was home but he didn’t pick up making you suspect that he was out with friends . Peter, your boyfriend, rather went out to have a drink with his friends and some chick named Gamora. To be honest you suspected him cheating on you. He’d smile at his phone all the time came home late at night smelling like cheap perfume. You didn’t leave him either, to big was your fear of ending up alone. You made your way into your apartment building up the stairs facing the door. You press the door handle down to notice that the door was unlocked. You looked at the handle confused not knowing how the door could be unlocked when you checked it twice the this morning. You tried to clam your nerves by thinking it must’ve been your boyfriend and not the killer. What would be the chances?

Once you were in your apartment you called out for Peter. No response. You felt a shivers down your spine something was off you weren’t alone here. Your instincts set in and you rushed to the door. Your hand was nearly touching the handle as you felt to arms grab you roughly. The persons bloody knife on your neck pressing the sharp steal against the soft flesh of your throat. “What I nice catch eh?” She pressed you hard against her. “It’s a shame you had to put up with such an excuse for a boyfriend but I took care of that sweetheart” Her touch felt strangely comforting better than Peters could ever have felt. “We are going to have a lot of fun tonight”

The woman with the mask found herself with you on your couch again. The white screaming mask and black clothes hiding her identity from you. You were afraid of her but also aroused at the sight of her bulge. “I’ve you are a good girl I’ll leave you unharmed bunny.” Her voice was sweet like honey pulling me in to her. “Yes of course Daddy” Your knees hit the hard ground as you watched Natasha unbuckle her belt moving her hips away from the cushion to pull down her pants and boxers freeing her thick length. She was big to say the least the biggest you had had yet. “You’re so big daddy” you said in an awe wrapping your hands around her erected penis. “I know bunny but could girls can take it” Your plump lips wrap around her deep red tip your tongue circling it making the woman with the ghost mask throw her head back groaning. You swallowed a few more inches bobbing you head up and done.

You pull away again licking up the sides of her cock spreading the saliva up her thick shaft making her crazy. You lick her balls and the woman above you was in heaven and you. You enjoyed it more than you should. “Do you like that daddy” you ask in an innocent tone your tongue on her shaft again. Nat moaned nodding how how badly you wanted to see her

face twist in pleasure maybe later you thought. You wrapped around her again put this time she had decided that you were way to confident. She place her hands on your head holding it in place as she roughly fucks up your throat making you gag and whimper. The sounds you made were running vibration down her veiny shaft as she grew even more desperate. Her groans turned into whimpers as she emptied herself into your throat. Hot cum shot down into your stomach as you swallowed everything she gave you.

Roughly she pulled you up making you sit on her lap avoiding her still hard member. “Good girl“ she whispered in your ear pulling you up and forward your entrance right above her tip. Slowly she pulled you down making you cry at the feeling of the stretch. You pushed your face into her neck as she filled you up to the brim. She moved your hips back and forth making you cry as you rode her your legs shivering. You clenched down hard as your arousal dripped down your thighs. You babbled some unrecognizable words at he feeling for her finding your sweet spot “Fuck you little slut too cock dump to talk” her hands found your clit. She pulled the hood back rubbing tight circles. “Do you like your clit getting played with” she groaned into your ear. “Fuck I’m gonna-” Natasha interrupted you “cum cum with me” you clenched down hard as you both had your releases her painting your velvet walls white. You collapsed on top of her.

“Ready for round two?”

:)

I do not own these characters all rights go to Marvel

[mint-yooxgi]

I did not see your drabbles being closed again, so may I please make a request? You can pick whoever you want (do not follow kpop, just love you) with a soft yandere and slight dollification? Like a dude doing the little things while watching you with the most enamored, dopey expression. Ex: brushing/drying your hair while you do your skincare, making sure the blankets are around you even when he's only half awake to roll over, head in his hands listening with rapt attention to celebrity gossip you read. Disregard this or change whatever you want. Please and thank you!!

"You're doing it again..." You sigh, chuckling lightly as you shake your head.

"Doing what?" Soobin hums, his head resting in his hand as he watches you. His eyes shine with nothing but tender love and affection, the corners of his lips twitching upwards in the corners in amusement.

"Staring at me like that." A small warmth begins to bloom on your cheeks as you avert your gaze to the side.

"Sorry," he chuckles. "I just enjoy hearing what you have to say."

"Sometimes I swear you're more content with staring at me than listening to me ramble on about Jongyeon's new haircut, or how this next comeback really fits Jihyo's style."

"I could listen to you speak all day," Soobin replies honestly, sitting up fully as he smiles so gently at you.

"Were you even listening, though?" You question, testing him.

"Misamo's comeback was styled nicely, but you felt the song was lacking a key component. It fell flat for you. However, while you enjoyed Jihyo's solo debut, again, it felt like she was being limited as an artist." He sits perfectly straight as he replies, intertwining his fingers together as if he were responding to an inquiry in a formal interview. "You're also revelling in all the nods to other groups in Stray Kid's new music video."

Both your eyebrows raise in shock, surprise he had even been listening at all.

"Though, I prefer when you're not fawning over Felix's blue hair and deep voice, I appreciate your admiration." Soobin tilts his head slightly as he says this, a grimace resting on his features. Then, a large grin is taking over. "Makes me think you talk about me in the same ways when I'm not around."

His words make you splutter, cheeks flaring with heat. "I don't!"

"Mmhmm," his eyes shine with clear amusement as he stands. "Come on, let's get ready for bed."

Offering his hand out to you, Soobin nearly shudders pleasantly as he feels your skin grace his own. Every touch is like a personal paradise for him, and he is grateful every time you grace him with your voice, your touch, and your thoughts. Simply, he revels in you.

Carefully, he leads you upstairs and to the bedroom, running a bath for the both of you. He helps you into the tub, slipping in behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. Not even a moment later, he begins washing you gently.

"You know I can do this myself, Soob," you mumble, relaxing further into his touch.

"I know," comes his gentle reply. "I just enjoy taking care of My Baby."

A soft smile tugs at your lips, and all too soon, he's helping you towel off as the water drains from the tub.

Hushed whispers, and quiet words are exchanged between the both of you as you prepare for bed. Like usual, Soobin pulls back the covers for you, making sure you're tucked in before sliding in on your opposite side.

Every night, you turn to face each other, and every night, he never fails to trace your features gently with the tips of his fingers. Tonight is no exception.

The silence around you both seems to swell beneath his tender gaze, and you end up fidgeting beneath the covers. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?" Soobin repeats his words from earlier, his hand resting on your cheek, cradling your face in his one hand.

"Staring at me like I'm worth more than the sun, moon, and all the stars." You mumble, turning to hide your face slightly in the pillow to hide your bashfulness.

"That's because, to me," he hums softly, his thumb tracing over your skin, "you are."

[truwaifu]

Heartstrings Entangled

Chiyoris has officially moved to her new home and has started her new job. What she didn’t expect was to see Nanami at her new company as her coworker. How can she look this man in the eye knowing what she does in the dark to thoughts of him? What about Satoru, her best friend? 

Chapter Two in this series. Read Chap. 1 here

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Chiyori (fxreader) Word count: 1.3k Warnings: Slight angst at the end? I've been having a lot of fun writing this and I hope you guys enjoy!

The next couple of weeks flew by. Chiyori nailed the job interview and before she knew it, she was being relocated to Japan. Chiyori couldn’t remember the last time she felt so nervous. She’s been in the corporate world for the last five years and being in a male dominated field wasn’t anything new to her. Now packing up and moving to Japan? That definitely constituted as something new. She would be closer to Satoru, which made her happy. He’s been her best friend for almost 20 years and she’s convinced Satoru keeps her around because she’s human. Her mundane normie life keeps him tethered to the real world. 

Some nights when his sorcery got to be too much, Satoru would just show up at her door with their favorite snacks and crappy rerun box sets. They never talked about the horrors he saw but she knew enough. She didn’t need the gory details to know her 6 foot hero needed an escape. Satoru knew to check in when he went too long without answering a text. It was easy for them to show up at each other's homes when he was working in the States but that got difficult when he had to move back to Japan. He always insisted Chiyori move to Japan as if it was something that was so easy for any regular person to do. Even if they didn’t talk every day, Satoru knew his well-being was non negotiable. So knowing she would be living in the same city as her best friend, gave Chiyori a sense of comfort and familiarity that she missed dearly. 

With this new company Chiyori was relocating to, they allowed her to have a week off before her official start date. This gave her enough time to unpack essential living things and some clothes. Making sure to prioritize unpacking her work clothes first. Satoru helped her move everything in, they caught up on things she missed but he avoided the main topic Chiyori had been curious about. What is the deal with Mr. Arctic! Satoru was being incredibly stingy with the details and she kicked herself for not being able to let it go. 

“If it’s serious you could just tell me. You’ve never been this secretive before.” She pushed the topic again. “And you’ve never been this curious before. I wonder why that is?” He would evade again. “You know what, it doesn’t even matter, I really don’t care. I was simply trying to make conversation.”

 “Mhm, sure you were.”

 “Oh, you’re such a dick.” 

“But you love me anyway. Some would even say obsessed with me!” 

“Okay, Toru, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.” 

“Hey, I’m not the one who moved continents to be closer to the other.”

“I will literally ghost you the second you leave this apartment.” 

“As if!, With these six eyes I could find you anywhere! The bar, the bakery shop, the street corner looking for your next victim!” At this statement Satoru had lifted his blindfold so Chiyori could get a clear view of his eyes. 

“Put it back down, I hate it when you have that look in your eyes. You fucking creep.” She had fallen into a fit of giggles as she lurched towards him to pull his blind fold back down. Satoru being who he is had turned his infinity on. 

“Cheater! I'm gonna finish unpacking the bathroom box.” She stuck her tongue out while walking out of the living room. It really was nice to have family this close to her again because that’s exactly who Satoru was, Chiyoris family. Which was exactly why her smile faded the second she was away from Satoru. Does he know how much of a fucked up friend I’m being? She knew deep down her motives for wanting to know anything about Nanami Kento were far more sinful than she would ever allow herself to speak on. She could never tell Satoru how almost every time she needed a release it was to filthy fantasies starring Nanami and Nanami alone. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Before Chiyori knew it, her free week was up and it was time for her to start her new job. At Kirin Enterprise they took new hires seriously. Especially when the position that was being filled was for a Chief Marketing Officer from the states. They had a welcoming meeting for Chiyori in a huge conference room that looked more like a meeting hall. It was far too spacious. The table felt an oceans away and she felt like she was being auctioned off. 

“Hello everyone, I’d like to introduce you to our new team member, Chiyori Shelts. She moved here from the States and has a lot of experience working as a Chief Marketing Officer. She was the top of her team in the states and won many awards and closed many deals.Trust me when I say we are lucky to have her joining our team. Please Ms. Shelts, tell us about yourself.” 

Mr. Nakayamaha was boasting and Chiyori felt her heart in her throat. 

“Well that is some introduction. Kind of hard to follow up. Um, yes, well the names Chiyori Shelts, just like he said. Call me Chi, call me Shelts doesn’t really matter so long as you call me, amiright?”  She let out a half hearted laugh. Please, someone kill me now.

 “Okay, sorry, that was supposed to be a joke. I like cats, bit of a gym rat and if you’re ever wanting to earn some points with me, matcha boba is the way to do it. I look forward to working with you all, thank you.” 

While she scanned the room she felt her face get hot. Chiyori hated having to talk about herself, let alone in front of people she didn’t know. Amongst the crowd she saw a head of silky blonde hair. When she zeroed in on the blonde locks, she thought she was dreaming. Too shocked to speak she looked away quickly putting her head down and hoped she had it wrong,  hoped he hadn’t recognized her. Nanami Kento was here. She couldn’t explain why she felt so embarrassed. She dared to look up and peek at him only to find Nanami already had his eyes on her. He looked so different in the light of day. He had glasses on this time. Does he always wear those? She wondered how it would feel to be the one to take them off his face. She placed her hand on her cheek to try and help ground herself. Chiyori shook her head and turned to look at her welcome folder. Her thighs clenched at the thought of Nanamis’ eyes still being on her. Get a grip! This is Satoru’s boyfriend for fucks sake. She didn’t need any distractions. Not any involving him. An image of Satoru came to her mind and she felt horrible. Some friend, I am… Chiyori noticed that the welcome meeting was coming to a close. 

“Ms. Shelts, please let me show you to your office.” This was exactly what she needed. Bless you Mr. Nakayamaha.

“Right away sir, thank you.” Chiyori gathered her things and began walking out and no matter how hard she tried to keep looking forward, she couldn’t help the need she felt inside her to look back towards Nanami. He was looking back at her with an indescribable look on his face. Beautiful. She thought. Absolutely beautiful. It was almost tragic the pang she felt in her chest when she looked away from him. She knew she had to talk to Satoru about this because she couldn’t stand feeling like she was betraying him. Chiyori might not have outwardly done anything with Nanami but she knew the feelings she had about him were not right. This was wrong on so many counts and she needed to rectify this somehow. She just didn’t know how. 

Chapter 3

[vsyrworld]

i rrly need a quick fluffy post monza charlos fanfic so here is my shot (turn out its not quick but anyway)

rated : m (bcs of they kiss a lot)

tags : sleepy cuddle and kisses, singapore as core memory, not beta read so sorry bout error.

♡ enjoy ♡

///

carlos is so so done. so freaking wasted as he could only sprawled on his bed, lying there like a death log. feet cramp, shoulder aching, body hurts everywhere. and finally after a dreadful weekend, enormous laps of attacking and defending rewarded by a worthy podium, is an ecstasy but not for long as he has to spare his social energy for boring long ass press interview and celebration. at least the last one is another reward.

he thought.

if isnt because of that stupid thieves out of nowhere, he already eating his dinner out, have a drink that charles had promised him through interview and the bad thing was charles also already texted him, "matee! lets have a drink together tonight!!", he read and left the chatroom opened, and then his watch accident, ran his breath out then the police -- oh merde, charles must be waiting him at bar or atleast his response and yet- carlos told rupert to skip a dinner and call it a day.

the other bad news is, if he is too tired. he couldnt sleep. and tifosi are still out there whatever the chantng or lullaby they are doing-- its actually nice and heartwarming-- but he needs sleeps. constantly nagging by the anonymous hands, scents, crowds making him dizzy. he lost sense of familiarness. then he remember this week, they didnt film anything about c2 challenges. carlos hadnt had a chance to annoy charles because they are cramped in a big crowd, people here people there --

his phone ringing stopping carlos from circulating haze thought

lazily, or more pricisely, fatiguely, reach his bed side stand and swipe the call without minding the caller id,

"carlos?! you okay? where are you now?" carlos stunned in silence but his lips form a smile, cahlos

"hey" he turned his body to lay down on his left side. the phone is on top of his right ear, as he dropped his own hand to matress, "sorry" he speaks slowly, his energy already depleted

"forget it, the important is you are ok." charles' voice smoothing right to his ear.

"hm" he hummed in agreement. already closing his eyes.

he heard a chuckled from other line, "do you want me ...um..."

carlos smiled as his hand mindlesly caressing the empty spot beside him,

"dont wanna get up. too tired" he said truthfully. the bed is already swallowed him half of his body and soul,

"okay" charles said. carlos didnt expect anything so he doesn't hang up the phone.

but he knows charles will come anyway,

thus when his hotel room door closed with a soft thuds, and his arms streched into a cold empty spot is finally, finally, now replaced by a slender warm figure.

carlos with eyes closed, instinctively wraps the body and pulling him so his chest against charles' chest, legs tangled each other, a warm laugh land on his sleepy face

"is this how you greet me, hm? mister ministary of defence? pole sitter? podium winner? or hm a superhero who chasing down the thieves around the street hmph--"

carlos shuts him with long deep kiss, with the very last energy he had. his hands welcoming him by smoothers down the softness of hoodie charles' wears. it is so warm and cloudy. charles fresh scents is a lily, musky vanilla. sweet and calming makes him dropped his lips into charles juncture neck.

"wrong," he replies and left a warm kiss on charles exposed skin. "it's your lover." finally. a familarness.

charles breathed out as his finger massaging carlos hair softly. "hi to you too, mi amor"

they take their own time respectively, trying to gain and mapping each other body again after a full weekend constantly dealing with stranger sweats, sticky skin.

"miss me?" charles said into carlos thick hair. he loves when charles does that.

he opens his mouth to answer but then his wicked mind does something else,

charles let a sudden moan as carlos nipped and sucking charles neck slowly, open mouthed, "ca- ah, carlos, wait" the way charles gripped carlos hair's is so addicting. its soft but firm, delicate but sensual. carlos cant get enough from it.

carlos grunts and continue licking the spot, "you said you tired, ah-" charles didnt even finished his sentence because their hards-on rubbing against each other and carlos circling his arm on charles wait, trying to get the friction

but carlos is tired, so the movement is painfuly slow thus creating a consistent gap of moan from charles. "you menance" charles said between moan as he chin up carlos so they are facing each other.

"open your eyes you idiota" carlos slowly blinking his eyes to find charles hazy gaze straight at him with such a fondness.

carlos breath into his face and decide to gives him a eskimo kisses. the one that he and charles likes to do. its ticklish but sweeter than lips kisses.

from carlos hooded eyes, he bring his palm to caressing charles' cheek, "tired. sorry" and eyes flutters to shutting again

charles laughs like a lulabby to him, "okay okay. so don't rub on me. let save it for the morning" he exchanged the kiss by rubbing his nose to carlos cheek and back again to carlos' nose, then he stayed there.

"charles" he said after a moment with, of course, the tifosi singing at outside

"hm?"

"tell your fans to shut up please"

charles giggled then smacked carlos biceps that hugs them close, "hey that's rude to say like that!" carlos didnt mean it but he really really need a quite and good sleep. really, he let out a dissapoint grunt

charles shifted his head to see beyond carlos shoulder, at the closed curtain window, luckily they couldnt be seen from outside. "they are not my fans, carlos"

another nose rubbing, "its ours"

carlos smiled at charles statement as his mind start day dreaming about monza podium celebrations. he is enchanted by the prancing horse.

"si, but i really need a quite moment." carlos hummed,

charles doesn't answered him, only shifted his head closer to him then flushing their forehead together. breath rising constantly with each other, trying the best to focusing their breathing rhythm and so the tifosi chant become a soft background sounds.

"charles" carlos said again between the time their chest expand.

"i'm here" a slow long exhale drawns out from both of them.

as both of them inhaling the oxygen, carlos closed the gap by placing himself to charles' lips with a soft kiss. charles , slow but reassuringly, sealed them with pulling carlos closer and they start to exchanged some languid kisses. it was a simple peck then turns into a french kiss somehow, back again to calmer one and ending it with their most favorite kisses all the time, the one long deep kiss.

to have charles lips against him, and their nose flushed into each other cheek. carlos kissing him raw and breathlessly until the air in his lungs sucked all out, charles not wanting to apart from carlos' lips, cluthed his hand to carlos' tshirt, and other one is settle down at spaniard cheek to trails carlos face up and down. thus, carlos answered it by tighting his waist grips.

they pulled out together in a loud exhale, "god i love when you do that" charles giggled and bring their nose kissed each other affectionately.

carlos grins widely with his eyes still closed. he rubs charles' in agreement.

"carlos i have an idea"

"what is that?"

"lets go to singapore a couple day quicker than others"

charles statement successfuly makes carlos' eyes open. he analyze charles expression but none other than a soft private smile he gives him and there is a longing, like a want feeling, a desire and a permission for spending a time together outside racing schedule

"you want to flight early?" he reassure charles again, afraid it's might his delulu scenario since his brain is not working properly.

"us. i want us to ..." charles dimples appear as he bites his lips nervously,

"to what?" carlos raised his eyebrows

"you know, do what couple do?" he said shyly

carlos swear he melted against the bed sheet ever more, "date then?" he gives charles a kiss on his dimples.

which create a soft giggle, "you can say that"

"yeah" carlos brings his hand into charles' nape and goes into his cheek where the dimple is rested. he really really want to feel him all.

singapore, a perfect runaway country. is not monza, is not charles' monaco and it is also not carlos' malorca. it's their singapore.

"yes, i like that" carlos said again this time between the kiss.

"yeah?" charles is caressing his eye bag. smoothing them like a butter, making carlos purrs

"yes and then we can make love there too" he grins teasingly and a hand smack on his chest making him laughed.

"you are really what max said, naughty" charles rolled his eyes, "but yes i guess we can"

"in the pool?" he pushed again, eyes glint with a mischieve, "pool sex?"

"oh my god cahlos, stop!" charles put his own hands to covered his well redden face.

he chuckled seeing charles flushtrated so he dropped a kiss on charles' hand, whispering a "carino" against the slender fingers.

"if is not singapore..." carlos trailed his voice down as charles opened his hand and settled it down into carlos' cheek. A circular hand motion drifting him to sleep,

"if is not because of singapore, i wouldn't be here with you" he said before closing his eyes

he doesn't have to see charles expression, he already know it by all of his heart

so he doesn't protest when charles tucked him down, resting his chin ontop of carlos head, wraping his arm protectively as carlos felt a drop of forehead kiss

"let's sleep and get out from here"

with that, carlos finally get his best sleep in that day.