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honey-flustered · 2 months

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Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fullg by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

700 notes · View notes

lovings4turn · 2 months

Text

ᯓ★ 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 (𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒)

— a few days have passed since you last saw lando, yet your feelings are as strong as ever. there’s nothing like another party to finally set the record straight. (3.2k words)

+ aka. part two of don’t delete the kisses (and my longest fic to date on this blog !!)

+ again mentions of drinking and clubbing, largely fluff . lando n reader are only slightly tipsy ! this took far too long to get out but she's finally here - hope you all enjoy !!!

it had been three days since you’d gone to the club, and three days since you’d consequently fled from the club due to your inability to act normally around lando norris.

you hadn’t seen him since then, but you’d texted back and forth from the morning afterwards. you’d felt bad about the whole thing, just leaving without even finding him to say goodbye, and so made up some excuse about getting too overwhelmed and not wanting to ruin his night with your desire to go home.

and because he was an angel, lando didn’t even question you. instead, he instantly accepted your explanation, assuring you it was more than fine as long as you were okay. he could go without a goodbye, if it meant the best for you.

eighty percent of your subsequent conversations were complete nonsense. ever since you had became close all those years ago, lando had taken it upon himself to text you every single thought he ever had, no matter how menial or silly.

embarrassingly, as a result of being down so, completely, horrifically bad for him, you found each and every one endearing. yes, even the god-awful memes he would send you religiously between the hours of two and five am when he couldn’t sleep.

perhaps it was even worse that you’d go on to forward said memes to other friends, pretending that you had found them. you were unable to prevent the laughs that would escape your lips every time your phone buzzed with a notification from lando.

one on hand, you were on top of the world. on the other, you were going insane.

lando had positively taken over your mind, every corner of your head filled with deep brown curls and impish laughter. even the most menial things proved to link back to lando in some way, a tangled red string of association that to anyone else would make zero sense but was obvious to you.

you were icarus, and lando the sun; something to dream of but never to have. you were certain that if you chased him, your wax wings would melt rapidly as you succumbed to your impulses before you crashed onto the harsh ground of reality.

learning to cope with the heavy feeling of yearning was something you could do. suffering with a little heartache to keep lando in your life far outweighed not having lando at all.

being definitive in your decision to bury your feelings didn’t mean it wasn’t a struggle, though.

now more than ever, it seemed impossible to not think about lando, or talk about him, shout his name from the rooftops so the whole world could hear the praises you would sing for him. it appeared to be a pretty clear sign that you were losing any remaining shreds of self control, but what could you do? no matter how many times your head said no, your heart would tell you that it would always be lando, one thousand times over.

a notification lit up your phone screen, and you were convinced it was a sort of cruel taunt from the universe.

landonorris just posted a photo!

it was borderline masochistic, the way in which you tapped the notification instantly and allowed yourself to be led to lando’s latest instagram photo dump. alongside a few selfies, pictures of him from that night in the club were littered throughout, and though he was posing with friends in each photo, your eyes were focused solely on him.

without really thinking, you pinched the screen, zooming in a little further to admire every detail of lando’s face that had been captured by someone’s iphone. the moles that were dotted across his face like they’d been individually placed there, the unruly curls that begged your fingers to find a home in them, and that fucking smile.

realisation hit soon after, and you caught yourself with a groan. here you were, sitting looking at his pictures with a dopey, love-sick grin on your face, acting like a teenage girl with an innocent classroom crush.

“god! might as well write all over a notebook that he rocks my world or something,” you scoffed, mock disgust lacing your words.

oh great, now you were fucking talking to yourself. christ, what had he done to you?

in an act of frustration, you quickly liked lando’s photo before throwing your phone onto your bed, partially hoping it would get lost amongst the pillows so you couldn’t find it again and fawn over more pictures of your supposed best friend.

a distraction was what you needed. and so you stood up and made your way into the kitchen, praying that maybe cooking a nice meal for yourself would sort you out. either that, or you could hit yourself over the head with a frying pan and hope that the concussion would remove any feelings that breached the label of ‘platonic’.

and for two whole hours, your plan had worked.

not only were you able to enjoy the delicious meal you’d made, but also got through a good few episodes of the new tv series you had started watching a week or so ago. the lando shaped hole in your mind had been replaced by witty dialogue and pointless character drama, and you were beginning to think that you had everything under control.

that was until you returned to your bedroom and reached for your phone once more, your lockscreen lighting up to display yet another text thread from lando.

lando: going out tomorrow at 10!!!

lando: be there or be square😈

lando: i need my best dance partner w me

fingers dancing across the keyboard, the text was sent before your brain could even think about the invitation.

y/n: i'll b there🥳

it was official: you were absolutely fucked.

. . .

it was 10:28pm and you were already questioning your decision to come out.

you would say that you had no idea why you’d even agreed to the invitation, but that would be a lie. you knew exactly what had convinced you to get dressed up and leave your house tonight, and that reason was currently grinning at you from his place at the bar, clothed in another stupid button down shirt and sunglasses, of all accessories.

how he had managed to make sunglasses indoors not only acceptable, but attractive to you was just another sign of the power that the man held over you. you’re sure that if you told your friends, they’d never let you live it down. and hell, you wouldn’t even blame them for it.

from the moment you had arrived, lando had commanded your attention. there wasn’t an inch of your body that wasn’t intently tuned in to every word he spoke, each movement of his limbs and the expressions on his face. he had you completely hooked, and you were letting it happen, swept along in the riptide of your stupid crush,

whether it was from the pulsating house music, the shot lando had shoved into your hand the moment you’d shown your face, or even just lando himself, you felt electric. sparks of lightning rippled beneath your skin, every last nerve in your body buzzing with anticipation for something that you couldn’t even put your finger on.

butterflies swarmed your stomach, and if someone were to tell you you were looking at lando with stars in your eyes, you would have no doubt that it was true. because as he grinned at you once more, the lively groups of club-goers began to fade away leaving only a vignette of his figure.

you were experiencing every romantic cliche in the fucking book, all thanks to him.

you were unsure as to whether it was a minute or a hour before he was standing in front of you again, the scent of his aftershave almost taunting you as it enveloped you. lando was expertly clasping two vodka cokes in one hand and two shots of tequila in the other, sporting a lopsided smile.

“lando!” you groaned, actions betraying your scolding tone as you reached out to pluck the shot from his hand before grabbing your drink, careful not to cause lando to spill anything.

the last thing you needed right now was to spill a drink on lando’s white shirt. the sight of the material slowly becoming see-through until it offered you a glimpse of his tan, toned skin was more than you would be able to handle.

lando held up the plastic shot glass with a cheeky expression, a silent toast to god knows what, before he tipped the liquid down his throat. his face quickly soured, and he wasted no time in seeing off a large portion of his drink in an attempt to rid himself of the tequila flavour.

“woah, woah, slow down there,” you laughed, gently pushing the cup away from lando’s mouth. “got the whole night ahead of you.”

watercolour eyes dropped to glance at your hand, lando’s stare lingering even after you had pulled your hand back towards your body hastily, as though merely being in the proximity of his body was enough to burn.

you would have thought it odd, if lando hadn’t immediately taken your hand into his larger one and stalked off towards the dance floor, gently tugging you along without a word. your mind told you that lando had simply felt the effects of his drink quicker than expected, and it took him a minute to realise that leading you to the dance floor was the mission he would give himself for the night.

flashbacks of the last time you were out clubbing with lando played in the back of your mind like an old movie, something you would put on in the background for comfort yet wouldn’t pay much attention to.

one dance turned into two, and then three, and before you knew it you had been dancing with lando for the better part of an hour, both of you expertly adapting your moves to match the vibe of whatever song the dj decided to play next.

one of the many perks of attending clubs with formula one drivers was that there was an ever-flowing supply of alcohol. it was something you’d discovered after the first few times you had gone out with lando and his friends: you would finish your drink and before you could blink, someone had shoved a new one into your hand, the cup still marbled with cold condensation.

your current drink had been supplied by max, or maybe even carlos, a far too strong liquor mixed with nowhere near enough soda for your liking. your nose scrunched up at the taste, and lando laughed before gently plucking the cup from you, his fingers brushing against your own for a fleeting moment.

a fire burned in the pit of your stomach, noticing that lando’s lips landed perfectly over the lipgloss mark you’d left moments ago. an indirect kiss.

much like your own moments prior, lando’s face twisted up into a grimace at the taste, and he shook his head furiously.

“that's fucking awful,” he claimed, leaning down a little to shout his complaints into your ear. “whoever bought you that has shit taste.”

“says the man who bought a round of tequila earlier in the night.”

lando chuckled, mumbling a ‘fuck off’ that held more adoration than malice, in your humble opinion. like he had rehearsed it, lando smoothly palmed your drink off onto max before delicately taking hold of one of your wrists, twirling you around just like he had done a few nights ago.

possibly driven by a subconscious want to set right the events of your last night out, you repeated your own actions and spun lando under your arm in response.

lando’s grin was almost blinding, and he pulled you towards him, your hands still clasped by his as he moved your limbs around like the world’s worst puppetmaster.

you were convinced that, had he had enough room around him, he would have spun you both around until you were dizzy, a move he’d pulled many times when you were dancing together in one of your kitchen’s to pass the time it took to cook your meal.

sadly, lando had to settle for flailing arms and uncoordinated shimmies, his priority making you smile rather than trying to look suave amongst the mass of bodies at your every turn.

a few other drivers started to join your circle, handing you both more drinks as they tried to engage in miscellaneous conversation and playfully poked fun at yours and lando’s lack of coordination or apparent shame.

unable to control who stood where, thanks to the power of free will, you had been separated from lando, instead flanked by oscar and george whilst he was wrapped up in a conversation with max fewtrell.

thanks to his position across from you, lando was able to catch your eye, his brow quirked slightly in a silent question meant only for you to decipher. you nodded, a clear response to his wordless communication.

as though it were planned, you and lando began to leave. this was how your last french exit should have been; no longer were you alone and flustered, stumbling into the back of your uber with the desire to bash your head off of a brick wall.

no, this time you had lando’s hand in yours, the pad of his thumb brushing soft circles against the back of your hand as he expertly manoeuvred you both through the crowd, informing you that a car would already be there to take you back to your flat with him in tow.

apologetic texts and goodbyes weren’t necessary this time around, if the loud, obnoxious whooping and whistling from pierre and charles were anything to go by. with their propensity for gossip, you were sure that every inhabitant in the club would be informed of your swift exit with lando within the hour.

the ride home was filled with melodic laughter as lando made it his mission to unload every observation he’d made in the past few hours onto you. he’d taken particular interest in the argument two girls were having when he was waiting at the bar, and left no detail out as he recounted the whole event like some sort of one man show, his only audience you.

the streetlights you passed caused a flickering glow to dance across lando’s features, and the momentary flashes of illumination caused lando to look otherworldly, all shadows and contours framed by deep curls.

lando was so caught up in his story that he was oblivious to your wonderstruck stare, completely unaware of the way you were drinking in every last inch of him, committing each miniscule detail to memory and storing it away for a rainy day.

good, you thought. he’d only take the piss anyways.

the alcohol rendered you both a little unsteady on your feet, and you snorted a laugh as lando stumbled through your front door, catching his shoe on the tiny step that led into your apartment.

whoever lived underneath you would likely be cursing your name right now, as neither you nor lando were too concerned about remaining quiet and light on your feet as you bumbled over to your bedroom. comfort was the only thing on your mind, though you made a mental note to push an apology letter underneath the poor soul’s door the next day.

making himself at home, lando threw himself down onto your bed, the plush mattress eliciting a soft groan from him. his once closed eyes snapped open as you tossed a pair of his joggers at him, a pair he’d left at yours a few months ago (and that you may or may not have ‘forgotten’ to return to him.)

“i’ll get changed in a sec,” lando promised, sinking back into your sheets. “you can too. just, come on, lie down for a bit.”

lando delivered two quick pats to your bed, perhaps hoping it would prompt you to join him faster than you already would have. secretly, you were glad that he thought you needed convincing to lie down with him for a moment.

you pretended to consider it, eyes flitting over to where your makeup remover sat, before you gave in, mumbling an ‘okay’ as you clumsily removed your shoes and clambered onto the bed next to him.

the gap between you both was barely there. if you moved your hand just slightly, your fingers would brush against lando’s side. how easy it would be, just to grant yourself a slice of heaven for once.

lando’s voice brought you out of your trance.

“when you left, last time…”

an unfinished question. lando was clearly attempting to seem nonchalant as he broached the topic that you had both been skirting around since it had happened, his eyes trained onto the thread of your duvet that he had busied his hands with.

in that moment, you didn’t think you could ever lie to him, no matter how humiliating the truth was.

“it got too much. y’hands on me and everything, i got too flustered. i just didn’t want to make a fool out of myself, i guess,” you admitted as an embarrassed smile played on your lips.

a giggle trickled from lando’s mouth, prompting you to roll onto your side and face him with a raised brow.

“what’s so funny?”

“nothin’. just the fact you fancied me so much that you had to run away from me,” lando responded, grinning mischievously.

your response came in the form of a pillow hitting lando square in the face.

“oi!”

the pillow came flying back, but missed your body by roughly a couple of inches, the alcohol clearly impairing his usually decent aim.

“missed me,” you taunted.

unexpectedly lando’s face lit up at your words, and he rolled closer to you, propping himself up onto an elbow so that his face was hovering over yours.

you swallowed thickly at the sudden movement, eyes darting across his face frantically as though his motives would be written into the curve of his smile.

“think there’s a saying about that,” lando mused, a hand trailing up your side so gently that you half believed you were imagining it. “missed me, missed me, now you’ve gotta kiss me, or something.”

and if that wasn’t a sign to press your lips to his, you weren’t sure what was.

you swallowed lando’s sound of surprise as your lips melded with his own, his mouth soft and warm as he more than returned your affections.

clearly not content with the level of control he possessed, lando briefly pulled back and swiped the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip before attaching his lips to your once more, gently sucking the flesh into his mouth and nipping at it with a smirk.

it was slow, and a little sloppy, a blend of tongue and teeth as you desperately tried to taste as much of each other as possible.

your grip on lando’s shirt was vice-like, as though you were scared he would disappear if let out of your hands for even a fleeting second.

“don’t worry, ‘m not going anywhere, pretty girl,” lando teased softly, punctuating his words with another kiss. “y’stuck with me.”

and suddenly, everything had become clear. it was always going to be you and lando, a love that would transcend a lifetime.

tags : @wintfleur @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @ssararuffoni @tbsloneely @onecojg @basicchelsea

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris drabble #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

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garfunklefield · 2 months

Text

Pools and Honey

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/Kento Nanami Warnings: reader has a temperature kink, pool .. fondling? outdoor sex but it's in his backyard, creampie, grinding, fondling, intense sexual tension, Nanami is the consent king, praise, dilf!Nanami, there is like a twenty year age gap, Nanami is divorced and also wears glasses again :P, Yuji and Sukuna are his kids, fluff, there is plot to this porn Word count: 4857 DESC: You become the live-in maid and babysitter for the hot dilf Kento Nanami.

I have a Ko-Fi now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm super excited :3 I've already uploaded some content and I'll make sure to get you guys well-fed! And PLEASE send me requests I have no ideas!

You got a match. It had been several days since you had put your resume up on a babysitting website, in hopes of someone swiping yes on you. All you needed was somebody to say “Yes of course watch my child, you stranger!” But it wasn’t looking good. You wanted to give up and continue going to your dead-end job, giving up your dream of raising children in hopes of being a good mother someday.

But then you got a match. It was a man older than you, about his forties, with two young boys. He was polite in his message, detailing how pay would work even the boys’ temperament. They were twins, ages 7. Ryomen and Yuji. Yuji was a blessing to the world with a habit of forgetting stranger danger, whereas Ryomen seemed to be … spunky as his dad put it. You knew it was another word for a problem child. They looked adorable in their photos, although you found yourself staring more at their father than anything else.

Kento Nanami… From the way he dressed in that selfie with him and his boys, the background of a few other photos, and the pay he was offering you could tell he was rich. A rich dilf who was offering a higher salary than what you were getting at your current job. It made your mouth water thinking about how all your bills would be paid.

Then you got to read his message more. It was polite and well-structured, with good grammar. Formal, a bit too formal if you thought about it but you didn’t mind. He was looking for a live-in maid and babysitter, who could watch his children 24/7 without hesitation.

He wanted you to move in? Well not entirely. He wanted to ease into the live-in maid situation and get the boys accustomed to you. If the first meet-up didn’t work you knew there wouldn’t be any hope for the future. It wasn’t looking too grim, and you were elated at the thought of living in a big house for free with a rich older man. You shot him back a simple reply and soon the date was set to meet the Nanami’s.

It was hard to pick out what to wear and you decided on something more conservative than you’d typically go for. It was about the boys today and you wanted to make sure you didn’t scare off their father either by dressing too scandalously. You wore a big black turtleneck and some loose-fitting jeans, all to cover your figure.

Walking up the steps of his house it was hard to stare. Ivory walls that shot up off the ground and about three stories from what you could gauge. Who really needed all of that house? No one! Nonetheless, you quickly moved through the driveway and the maze of plants, approaching the front door. It was black with a large gold doorknob. Inside you heard nothing with no sign of life from the outside of the house either. But once you touched the ring doorbell, because of course what rich person doesn’t have that, you saw lights flick on. Not just lights but you heard a loud crash, followed by clambering to get to the door.

Two boys, you knew it. There was some commotion between the two of them before you heard a man’s deep and soothing voice break their tension, followed by a “Yes Dad” from the boys. God, he looked and sounded hot? You were completely and utterly done for. Dating your boss was a complete no in this field, something you knew from experience. But you couldn't help it! You had a type. Dilfs.

The door opened and you were met with a man who you soon realized was much taller than you anticipated. He was blonde, hollow cheekbones filled his face, and he stared at you with dead tired eyes. Kento, as you remembered, had on the same pair of thick aviator glasses that were perched upon his thin nose. He wore a simple outfit of a button-up shirt and some slacks, and you noticed a fancy watch on the wrist of the hand he moved to shake yours with.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he spoke politely, not bothering to gaze at you as intensely as you were staring at him. You reminded yourself to blink and you quickly returned his handshake, trying not to grip him too firmly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you two, Mr. Nanami. I’m very excited to meet Yuji and Ryomen,” you smiled, tilting your head a bit. You mainly did that to see a bit of the inside better, and to gauge where the boys were.

You heard another loud crash and Kento retracted his hand, turning his head to find where the noise was coming from, “Speak of the devil. Boys,” he warned, his voice edging a faint shout. You heard some scrambling and you saw two of the cutest boys in the world scurry up to their father.

You could instantly tell who was who, even though they were practically identical. Yuji had wide eyes full of wonder, with a green dinosaur shirt on and pink spiky hair pushed downwards against his forehead. His cheeks were plump and fat, bouncing upwards into a smile when he saw you. Then there was Ryomen. He looked agitated, with his hair spiked upwards and a plain black shirt adorned on his small body. He looked at you for a moment and his eyes widened before he averted his gaze quickly.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you turned your attention to the both of them, bending down and resting your hands on your knees to meet their eye level. You spoke your name and then smiled, first at the boy who wasn’t looking at you, “You’re Ryomen, right? I like your hair. My brother likes to make his all messy like that too.”

The little boy looked back at you with a sheepish expression, before nodding, “S’nothing,” was all he said, looking over to his brother. It was as if he expected Yuji to be the center of attention once you were done talking to him and you felt your heart squeeze. You knew why. Problem children never got looked at the same as well-behaved children, especially if the two were side by side. From the way Ryomen looked at you, he knew you’d become busy with Yuji. He was always cast aside, compared to his brother, probably even ridiculed for it. All he needed was attention. And it didn’t seem Yuji cared if you paid attention to him either way, as he was now busy trying to get his father to pick him up.

“Yuji, why don’t you say hi to your babysitter?” Kento asked blankly, his voice remaining flat as he spoke.

Yuji glanced at you and waved, smiling widely, “Hi!” Before turning back to his dad and making grabby hands.

You smiled and waved back, turning your head to Ryomen again, “Is your favorite color black? Mine’s dark red, it’s kinda similar if you think about it,” you spoke calmly and delicately, in a way you knew he hadn’t experienced very often.

He nodded, cracking a toothy smile, “Mhm. And green. I like green … cause it’s like leaves,” Ryomen motioned to the plants behind you.

Kento cleared his throat and you gazed back at him, “Why don’t you come inside? Make yourself comfortable.” You nodded and followed suit, coming inside.

Yuji and Ryomen played on the floor, wrestling around or using their action figures. You sat on the couch a few feet away from their gorgeous father, who spoke occasionally to you. You thought it would go a bit differently, with more questions on your qualifications or your flexibility. But instead, he seemed to be observing how you acted with his children. The boys seemed instantly comfortable, Yuji it wasn’t surprising, but for Ryomen, you felt slightly surprised. From the way he was described, you were expecting a boy who was too bratty to even look at you respectfully. Instead, he was polite and soft-spoken. Every time he accidentally stepped on your foot or chucked a toy in your direction he’d apologize quickly and go back to doing his activity, nothing malicious about him.

“They’re cute,” you murmured, getting lost in just watching them be kids. God your ovaries just hurt at the sight of them, it made you wonder why it was taking you so long to find someone to settle down with. Well maybe…

You shook your head. No. You couldn’t date your boss, especially with his kids in the mix. Not to mention, he probably had a wife. This big of a house, and with his looks? There was no way he was single. He had to be married and you let out a sigh as you accepted this dilf was out of reach.

“They’re very comfortable with you. With the last babysitter, they were too shy,” Kento nodded as he spoke, using his left hand to motion to his kids. You glanced and your heart sped up. He didn’t have a ring. His hand was completely bare aside from the watch. Was he actually single? There was no way in hell he was single.

“I’m glad. Ryomen’s such a sweetheart and so is Yuji, of course,” a small smile bit on your lips as you watched the two boys wrestle around on the floor without a care in the world. God they were cute and god did your uterus hurt.

“People don’t typically say that about Ryomen,” he sighed, pressing his index finger against the middle of his glasses to push them up, “I’m glad to hear something different for once.”

It was sad but you knew it was true. Before you could reply, Kento spoke again, “I think I want to hire you right away as a full-time maid, if you’re willing to accept. I have a good feeling about this.”

You quickly learned the status of your boss's romance life after overhearing a few too many phone calls. He was divorced with a wife who had a thing for younger men. They’d often talk on the phone in a way that made your skin crawl. So tense and so passive-aggressive. You picked up the fact that she must’ve cheated or done something to push him over the edge, but none of it was confirmed.

The boys would spend every weekend with their mother and whatever boyfriend she had then. He didn’t mind being alone with you, he seemed to enjoy it. Kento would speak casually about a book he was reading, or just about something random that had happened to him that day. As if he was a friend or polite coworker, rather than your actual boss. It didn’t help either that your attraction for him grew. Every time his hand would accidentally brush against yours or his eyes would graze against your skin, you felt yourself become as light as a feather.

You wanted to feel his cold hands rake up and down your body, grabbing you in ways you knew he never would. You wanted to feel him become hard underneath your touch and revel in the fact you could make such a man bend to your will. But you had no hopes of him ever liking you like that. His glances were long, sure, but very PG. You never caught him once staring at your ass or a bit of cleavage through your shirt. His eyes were always on your face, with a polite faint smile ghosting his lips.

Today was Saturday. The two young boys were gone and it was you and Kento alone, sitting on his long white couch. He was a few feet across from you, legs casually crossed as he read some book you weren’t too familiar with. It was growing increasingly hot in the room and you couldn’t tell if it was your hormones or the fact the AC hadn’t been lowered in a few hours. It was almost summer so the fact it was getting warmer wasn’t too surprising. It was maybe mid-afternoon, with the sun shining through his back screen door.

You had eyed it for a long time before even asking him about the pool in the back. He didn’t typically use it as you soon learned, instead opting to sit and read. Always read. But it felt different. You tugged at the collar of your shirt and made some comment about how it was becoming too hot to handle.

Kento’s eyes glanced from one of the pages to your face, before setting down the book on his lap, “You’re hot?” He raised an eyebrow as he spoke.

You nodded, “I might grab some ice to eat if that’s okay,” you motioned to the kitchen in the other room, separated by a half wall.

“You can go swimming,” he suggested, nodding his head over to the glass door, “It’ll cool you down.” A different look filled your boss’s eye as he then added, “I’ll join you.”

With that, Kento stood up and headed upstairs to his room. The way he looked at you wasn’t the same as it had always been. You couldn’t tell if it was just a playful glance or perhaps a lustful gleam filling his eyes. You couldn’t tell if he wanted this evening to turn into something more than just a casual swim in his pool.

You weren’t sure which bathing suit to wear. You had a suit you’d wear in front of your family, it was a red one-piece that practically covered everything. But if it was going where you thought it was going you didn’t want to cover up. Instead, you opted for a pink two-piece with ribbons and bows on the sides. It was cute and innocent, the total opposite of your mind at that moment. God you could just picture his big hands on your ass, grinding you against the bulge in his pants while you two stayed in the water. It turned you on to think of how warm he’d be in contrast to the icy cool water against your skin. And you hoped he’d stare at you with some ounce of perversion in his gaze. Some ounce of pure unbridled lust.

Once you finished changing and put your hair up into something you considered fashionable, you made your way onto the back patio. It didn’t take you very long to find Kento sitting poolside, with his legs in the water. God just the sight of his back was enough to make the tender spot between your legs melt. He was toned and muscular, practically sculpted by god. You wanted so desperately to run your hands down his back and up his front, just tracing each muscle to feel him squirm.

“Kento,” you began, closing the screen door behind you. He turned his head and let his dull eyes rake up your body ever so slowly. There was a new kind of tension that wasn’t there the day you first met. It was as if he was looking at you from a whole new lens. It was as if he finally thought he had a chance.

“I like it. Is it new?” He inquired, motioning with his right hand for you to sit beside him. You followed quietly, making sure to keep a few inches of space in between you two as you perched beside the pool and felt the cold water run up your legs.

You bit your lip at the sensation of prickling cold and closed your eyes. Who wasn’t into a bit of temperature play, right? You had completely forgotten to answer Nanami, getting lost in the sensation of cold water against your skin. The mixture of that and the fact you could practically feel the warmth radiating off of your boss made you wetter beyond belief.

He cleared his throat and you looked at him through rows of thick eyelashes, “Hm?” Your head lazily tilted to the side, with a hazy blush forming at the temples of your cheeks. He was godly. His chest was made from the finest of marble and cut just to suit your perverted gaze. It made him seem unnaturally beautiful if that was even possible.

“I like your bathing suit,” Kento repeated, with his voice turning to a silky low tone. You could practically hear him groaning and moaning in your ear.

You nodded and turned away, staring down into the blue water. It was so clear you could see the bottom below you, which was painted a stark white. You could also see Kento’s legs, which were (just like his back) completely toned and rippled with muscles.

“I like yours,” you replied before dipping down into the water. You bit back a moan at the incredibly cold feeling shooting up your back and in between your legs, gripping onto the edge to steady yourself. Now if it just got incredibly hot… god that would be perfect. You looked up at him with a sheepish grin, noting the fact his eyes were completely glued on you. Not your face though.

Kento hadn’t had a chance to fully take in your form, seeing as you only wore baggy clothes in front of him. And now he had a perfect view of your breasts and it turned you on from how he stared. You could tell he wanted to fondle them and make them his. Bite along the skin and suck your nipples until they are sensitive to the touch. You bit your bottom lip again, feeling a throb pulsate through your swollen clit. Just any sort of friction would’ve been nice at that moment.

He hopped down into the water a few moments later, keeping his distance. It was as if he stood too close he’d lose all control and do something he’d regret in the morning. But you wanted so badly for him to lose control and fuck you senseless in the water. You wanted him to take your wet pussy and brand it with his cock until he was milked dry.

“Thank you,” Kento whispered, eyes staring up into the sky which was beginning to turn an orange color in the distance, “The boys really like you. And I really like you… is that odd to you?” He looked back at you with an intense gaze.

You shook your head, “I like you. It’s not weird. I…” You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t confess that you had been having those thoughts to him. You couldn’t tell your boss you wanted him to fuck you. You couldn’t.

He took one slow step towards you, big hands coming and resting against the small of your back, “Tell me. Does this make you uncomfortable?” His voice was a low purr, with his eyes boring holes into yours.

You felt your cheeks heat up and prickle a warm shade of pink, “...No.”

“Can I continue?” The blonde man tilted his head to the side, begging to inch closer to your perfect body. His hands moved from your back to grip onto your side, molding against your love handles and massaging them with a circular motion.

You couldn’t help yourself and you nodded quickly, bringing your hands to rest on his chest, “Please,” was all you had to whisper, because then his hands moved from your love handles to cradle your ass. One hand rubbed large circles while the other squeezed and prodded at it, just to get a rise out of you. You inhaled sharply and groaned into the sensation, pressing yourself against his stiff body, feeling the tent in his swimsuit press against your front.

“You tease me… walking around with those outfits, to make me wonder what body you have underneath,” Kento cooed, resting his chin against your head, “I could fuck you into apologizing, hm? I could make you sorry for teasing me like that if I was mean…”

A whimper came tumbling out of your mouth just at his words. God his voice was heavenly. You wanted him to whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he fucked you from behind, forcing your back into an arch and pulling you by your hair.

“You like that, I’m not surprised,” you could practically hear the smile biting at his lips as he pulled you back by your hips. He stared down at your face before pulling one of his hands from your lower half to touch your cheek, “May I kiss you?”

Your legs melted then and there. What a gentleman. What a fucking gentleman. Every single time he asked, even when he could gauge the answer from the look on your dumbstruck face, he asked. It made you hornier to just think he cared about how you felt in that moment. He cared about you in a way that wasn’t just sexual. I mean he entrusted you with his kids 24/7 of course he cared!

“Kiss me,” you whispered, resting your hand against his own on your face. A nurturing smile formed on his soft mouth and you felt it press against your own. It was chaste and sweet, just to test the waters. But it didn’t stay that way for long.

He pressed shallow kisses against your lips just to build up the sensation before englonging them ever so slightly. They got longer and longer until his mouth wasn’t moving from yours, but instead molding to become one. He sucked against your bottom lip and kissed you with passion. It was delicate and gentle, but you could tell he wanted to go crazy. You could tell he was holding back and it drove you crazy!

Kento tilted his head and slowly deepened the kiss, bringing your bodies closer together. His hands were underneath your thighs, pulling you up until your feet were no longer touching the bottom of the pool. Instead of bringing you to sit on the edge of the pool as you thought he was going to do, he put his leg in between yours and pressed you against his knee. Friction.

You moaned into the kiss and began to rock your hips back and forth, anything to get off to elevate the throbbing in your pussy. The man’s hands didn’t stay PG for long, one staying on your ass to prop you up as the other moved to untie your swimsuit top from behind. You needed to cum, it was a primal urge in your gut. You had to cum, you couldn’t stand not being able to anymore. And you needed to cum with Kento, on Kento, anywhere.

“May I?” Kento asked, looking down at you as he messed with the string of your bikini top. You nodded and moaned out an exacerbated please and he followed suit.

Your swimsuit top was off within a few seconds and he didn’t take long to attack one of your nipples, sticking your breast inside his mouth. He knew exactly what to do, using his tongue to roll over the nub and his teeth to grade against the sensitive area. You didn’t even realize you liked having your nipples sucked until he just … did it.

“F-fuck… me m-m..fuck me pl..please,” you breathed out, aching for some form of release. You had never needed it this bad in your entire life. It was starting to hurt from how badly you wanted him to fuck you. You wanted his girthy cock to stretch your holes and pump you with load after a load of his warm cum.

Kento didn’t have to be told twice. You found yourself now perched on the side of the pool, dazed and horny as he pulled himself out to sit beside you. The concrete ground was hard against your ass but you weren’t on there for long. He grabbed you delicately and picked you up, cradling you close to his chest. It was almost familiar, leaning your head against his pecs as he walked over to one of the many couches on the patio.

“Out here…?” You murmured as he set you on your stomach, prepping a pillow underneath you beforehand.

You felt a large and hard hand rub a circle against your ass cheek, “I have a fence,” was all he said as he pulled down your swimsuit bottoms and tossed them to the side. You heard some shuffling then a warm and bulbous head pressed against your slit, “May I?”

“P-please,” you whined, bracing yourself for the stretch. Nanami put both hands on your hips and slowly inserted himself. He was gentle and careful, stopping every few seconds to check in to make sure you weren’t hurting. The way he filled you out made you almost cum then and there.

“I’ll start slow so you can adjust to th-” He had begun but you promptly cut him off with another whine.

“No… just go,” you turned your head to look at him with a pout forming on your lips, “I’m beyond ready, Kento.”

He blinked a few times, and an air of surprise hinted on his face. He hadn’t expected you to be so eager to be railed by his cock, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Your stares were obvious from the beginning. You bit your lip and stared back at him, just waiting for him to begin.

Kento sighed and nodded, “Very well,” was all he said. He reached down, one hand on your hip and the other grabbing one of yours, “I’ll start now.”

He patted your hip and then began. You didn’t have time to brace yourself as he started rough. His hips snapped into your cunt and you felt his tip kiss your G-spot within seconds. You tensed and curled your back inwards, feeling the sensation grow with every thrust. Nanami was just a god at everything he did, easily fucking you as if it was second nature. His cock thrust in and out of you in perfect rhythm, plapping against your ass loudly. But you both didn’t seem to care.

“F-fuck!” You gasped, burying your head against the couch cushion, “A-ah.. I- mm ha- f-f-..fuck.” Not exactly a sentence but it was music to his ears. You couldn’t help it. You’d never been one to be loud typically when you were fucked, but this was different. There wasn’t any build-up and god was it just better. The fact he was going and going and going, without a care for how sensitive you were turned you on beyond belief.

Nanami’s hand brushed against your hip and pressed down at the small of your back, pushing your back from curling inwards to arching back again, “There we go… good girl. I want you to stay arched for me, okay pretty girl?” You whimpered and nodded a few times, looking back to see him intensely staring at your form. He rubbed small circles into your back and held you there, keeping you arched for his big cock.

He continued to fuck you, ramming his girthy length deep in your cunt, practically asking you to squirt down his shaft. And god you were so close to cumming. You hadn’t even noticed but Kento was getting close. You began to tell from how his thrusts got sloppier, or how his hand pressed deeper into your back, forcing your arch lower and lower.

“Fuck…” He breathed out, leaning forward to rest his head against your mid back. You felt his ball smack against your cunt, with his body pressing down against yours as you two became one. He could tell you were close, muttering, “You’re going to cum… huh?”

You let out a loud moan as a response, with your hips jerking up. It felt so good to the point where you couldn’t control your bodily movements anymore. Kento sat back up, groaning and then stiffening. You didn’t realize what was happening until you felt a warm load shoot deep into your pussy, causing you to cum as well. Load after load shot into your walls and coated you in white, milking him completely dry. His hand pressed into your back again, keeping you arched as he rode out his high.

Kento slowly came to a stop, letting go of your hand to hold your hips delicately. He used his fingers to brush along the skin and rub small circles on the areas he grabbed or pressed too hard, looking you over with an intense gaze.

“I…” You slowly began, turning your head to glance sheepishly at your boss. He looked down at you, breathing quickly. He blinked a few times, with his expression softening when he began to read the tone of your face. “I should quit, shouldn’t I?” You murmured, eyes fluttering close.

The blonde let out a sigh followed by a breathless laugh, “I thought that was going differently,” he mused, before clearing his throat and adding, “I don’t mind if you quit as long as you stay in my house … with me.”

You opened your eyes, “Of course, Kento. Of course.

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inlovewithpandora · 9 months

Text

- Party Girl -

Pairing: Protective!Miles!42 x fem!drunk!reader

Request: [ anonymous ] Protective 42 Miles when his girl calls him high or drunk (she's at a party and he didn't know) so he goes to pick her up and some dude is trying to get at her?

Synopsis: When Miles gets a post notification that you posted something on your story he assumes it’s a selfie of you but that idea flies out the window when he sees a bottle of alcohol in your hand.

Content: Aged!up Miles, fluff, angst (if you squint hard enough), established relationship (bf & gf), mention of alcohol/drinking, reader being under the influence

Author’s Note: Thank you for sending this request in! I hope you enjoy and that it meets your expectations! This was a really good request and I enjoyed writing it because I’ve been wanting to write drunk!reader for a while. Let me know what you think by sending an anonymous ask or comment if you feel comfortable!

Word Count: 1.1k

Glossary: Princesa - Princess

Extra: Requests are open! Please read rules before requesting! || Likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated❤️!

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As Miles lays across his bed, closing the text thread with one of his friends, he gets a notification from Instagram saying that you added something to your story. He assumes it’s one of your normal posts, a boomerang of yourself, a picture of you and him, or a daily quote with a song playing, but when he opens your story, it turns out to surprisingly be the complete opposite.

It is a picture of a bottle of Pink Whitney in your hand. His face scrunches up at the sight, wondering why you have a bottle of alcohol. He clicks over to see what else you’ve posted and he’s met with the sight of you pouring the bottle of alcohol into your mouth and his ears are filled with the sound of your friends cheering you on and loud music playing in the background.

To say Miles was baffled would be an understatement. You’ve never been a person who liked to drink or party, you would always rather stay home or invite Miles over so both of you could spend time together, thus to see this side of you, he’s caught him off guard. He immediately goes to your text thread and his fingers begin to rapidly type away.

—

Watching your friends dance with each other while pouring yourself another drink for the night, you feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket. You reach for your phone and check your messages.

You forgot that you didn’t tell Miles that you were coming to the party since your friends told you about it so last minute. You put your cup down and try to text him back, but you can barely see the words let alone coordinate your fingers properly to type out the sentence you want, so you decide to call him.

Once you press the call button, it only rings one time before you hear Miles' voice. “Princesa, are you okay?” He asks, making sure that you are okay before he starts bombarding you with different questions.

“I’m fine, baby! I’m just-” you hiccup, “having fun!” He can tell that you are drunk by your slurring words and the slowed pace you are talking in. As you try to focus on hearing Miles talking, your attention span plummets and you begin to hype up your friend.

Miles knows the alcohol is coursing through your veins and is making you zone out and he’s trying his best to be patient and keep your focus on him so he could figure out where you are.

“Bae, I need you to focus and tell me-” He starts carefully before you interrupt him. “You know you didn’t tell me hi when you picked up the phone, that’s so rude, Miles. You didn’t say it in your texts either.”

“My fault. Hey, baby. Now can you please tell me where you are?”

“If you say it a little nicer I’ll tell you where I’m at.” You say in a singsong tone which makes Miles groan under his breath and rub his temples. After he says it in a tone you approve of, you finally proceed to tell him the address of the party you’re at.

He immediately gets out of bed, puts his shoes on, grabs his keys, and makes his way out of the door.

“I’m coming to pick you up, okay? I’ll be there in fifteen. I’ll text you when I’m outside.” Miles gets in his car, puts his key in the ignition, and drives to where you are.

All in while you decide to take at least one last shot before he comes and spoils your fun.

—

When Miles pulls up to the house, he jumps out his car and walks into the party. He looks around but doesn’t locate you which makes him worry. He begins to barge through the crowd of people, trying to find you. His eyes scan the whole room and he doesn’t see you in the front, but he gets to hear your voice.

“I’m so-sorry, but I have a boyfriend that kills people.” You say in a giggly tone with slurred words as you talk to some random guy who has been asking for your number for the past few minutes.

“I don’t care about him, all I want is yo digits.” The guy presses you, pulling out his phone and handing it to you so you could type your number into it.

When Miles sees that his blood boils. He knows that the guy is trying to take advantage of you because you are under the influence. He immediately marches over to where you are and pulls you away from the guy.

“You heard what the fuck she said, she has a boyfriend.” Miles towers over the guy, yelling and pointing at him, making some threats just to make sure his point gets across that you’re taken and that he needs to leave you alone.

When the guy hears the bass in Miles’s voice and watches how his eyes slowly turn pitch black, he stutters out an apology and walks away. You just stand behind Miles, not paying attention or aware of anything that is going on until you feel him gently pull you by your arm.

“Miles! You’re here, I missed you!” You plant millions of messy kisses on his face before throwing your arms around his shoulders and hugging him. He is about to ask if you are okay, but by that greeting, he already knows you are totally fine.

“Let’s go home princesa and then you can tell me all about your night.” He grabs your hand and begins to escort you out of the party, but along the way your feet get wobbly due to the heels you're wearing. You let go of his hand and begin to fumble with the strings of your heels so you can take them off. However due to the alcohol, your hand-eye coordination isn’t the best.

Miles notices you struggling, so he decides to pick you up bridal style and walk out. The walking distance between the party to his car is short, but it gives you enough time to fall asleep in his arms, your head resting on his chest and your small snores ringing through his ears.

Once he makes it to the car, he somehow manages to open the door and carefully place you inside without waking you up. He closes the door gently and walks to the driver's side and gets in. When he places the key into the ignition, he looks over at you and thinks about how he can’t get over how adorable you look sleeping. He leans over and kisses your forehead then begins driving to your apartment.

He knows that he is going to have plenty of questions for you in the morning, but for tonight he is going to let you sleep the alcohol out of your system.

I hope you enjoyed❤️!

Previous Fic

Editor - @justmemyselfandthemoon

Taglist: @toneystank-3000 @savagemickey03 @soilmayo @baizzhu @solanawrld @kxllanxtdoor @kxtsxkii @onlyloaksgf @popeheywardssecretgf @naiomiwinchester @number1gal @spidersthetic @taylormarieee @h3art-l3ss @mellagzz @em-x0 @3zae-zae3 @khamanix @miguellover6969 @beargracecanbeanyone @strawberryclouds22 @ban-al3x @starsharkz @onginlove @kxllanxtdoor @lorarri

#❖ — 🕸️: 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑴𝒀 𝑱𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑨𝑵’𝑺?.!#❖ — 🕷️: 𝑰𝑻’𝑺 𝑨 𝑴𝑬𝑻𝑨𝑷𝑯𝑶𝑹 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝑪𝑨𝑷𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑴.!#earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x you #miles morales #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles #atsv miles #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #atsv x you #spiderman atsv #atsv x black reader #astv x fem!reader #astv x reader

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mellifiedprincess · 3 months

Text

GOT MY FIRST MATT REQUEST😝 this is angsty to fluff, so be warned. i got kind of carried away and don’t have anyone to proofread my writing so sorry if this actually sucks ass.

“I’m gonna be working 16 hours again today, so I won’t be home until late.” You can feel the annoyance from your boyfriend before you even turn around. Matt absolutely hated when you worked long shifts like that, but he also knew you loved your job as a peds nurse. Still. He hated the hours. He hated how tired you were after work, all because you would pick up everyone else’s slack.

“Again? Baby-“ He stops himself, watching you pull the baby pink scrub top over your head. You can only laugh softly at his expression. “That’s the 3rd one this week.”

“I know, but I Lisa asked me to cover part of her shift. She’s always been super nice to me.”

That was one of the things Matt loved and hated about you, you were too nice. Always doing for others, never for yourself. And he worried you were gonna burn out.

He places his hands on your cheeks, placing a kiss to your slightly squished lips. “You’ve barely slept baby. You haven’t had anything to eat. You’re barely a person right now.”

“Matt, please don’t do this right now. I’m gonna be late.” You watch as he rolls his eyes, stepping away from you as you gather the rest of your things. “I know you’re just worried about me, but don’t be. I’m fine!”

“Just please text me and let me know you made it to the hospital okay, and let me know when you’re on the way home. Just so I know you didn’t fall asleep at the wheel.” He reaches out for you, and you greedily fall into his embrace. “I will. I love you, okay.” You place a soft kiss to his lips and smile sweetly. “I love you more baby.”

And with that you leave.

You kept your word of texting Matt and letting him know you made it to the hospital safely. Even sending him a cute little selfie of you blowing him a kiss.

But when he saw it was almost 45 minutes past the time you should have been home, he felt a pit of anxiety form in his stomach.

He immediately ended the game of fortnite he was playing, and grabbed his phone wasting no time in calling you.

No answer.

So he tried again. And again. And again.

No answer. So he calls the floor of the hospital you work on. Only for the nurse on the phone tell him, you left almost an hour ago.

Kid was shitting bricks he was so scared.

“Nick!” At the sound of Matt’s terrified voice, the older brother of the triplets rushes into his room. “What?” Nick asks as he watches a frantic Matt put his shoes on. “I need you and Chris to take the other car and help me look for Y/N.” This only confuses Nick more.

“Isn’t she at work? And we can’t drive without our-“ “She’s not answering her phone. She left work almost an hour ago. She should have been back by now!” Matt cuts Nick off, trying his best not to break down.

Next to his brothers, you were the most important person in Matt’s life. The thought of anything happening to you made his want to throw up.

“You need to breathe before you pass out. Y/N is fine Matt, she’s gonna be okay.” Nick rubs comforting circles on his back, trying his best to calm his younger brother down.

“Maybe she fell asleep in the parking lot.”

You were not in the hospital parking lot when Matt arrived, only making his anxiety worse. “She’s not here!” He tells his brothers who are on the phone with him as they drive around the city in search of you.

“Chris is gonna take me back home, in case she shows up, but he’s gonna keep looking.”

Matt was barely listening anymore, because as he turned to get back on the highway he sees your car. And when he looks closer, he sees you in it. Asleep.

“I just found her and I’m going to kill her, right after I tell her how much I love her.” “Is she okay?” Chris asks.

“She fell asleep in her car. She’s fine.” Matt hangs up after that. He was relieved to say the least, but so furious with your stupidity.

As he gets out of his car and walks up to your window, he allows himself to take a minute to actually breathe.

You’re startled out of your sleep to a tap on your window, looking up you meet the eyes of your very angry looking boyfriend.

As soon as you unlock the door, he’s pulling it open and unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’m so sorry-“ He cuts you off by pulling you into his chest, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart against yours.

“Do you have any idea how fucking worried we were?” You begin to gnaw at the inside of your cheek, the feeling of guilt all consuming your body. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize I was falling asleep.”

“I need you to realize how stupid and dangerous that was. We’re not in Maine or Utah, baby. We’re in LA. You know from working in a hospital how dangerous it is here.” He knows he should be a little more cautious with his words, but fuck he was scared.

“I’m sorry. I closed my eyes for two seconds! I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Matt stops himself from berating you anymore, knowing you probably feel guilty enough. “Just- go get in the car. I’ll grab your things.” “I can’t leave my car here-“ You don’t even finish your sentence at the look Matt gives you.

You get in the passenger seat of his car and watch as he grabs your things, and double checks that your car is locked, before settling in the drivers seat.

“I need you to really listen to me when I say this.” You turn in your seat to face him, his hand reaching for yours. To comfort you or himself, he’s not too sure at this point.

“The next time you even think there’s a possibility of you falling asleep like that, I’m talking you yawn for 2 seconds longer than usual, you better call me. I don’t care what time it is. I love you and you scared the hell out of me tonight.”

“I’m sorry, Matty. I love you and promise I’ll never do anything like that again.” He smiles softly, and places a delicate kiss to your palm.

Now that you’ve faced the repercussions of Matt, you spent the drive home preparing yourself for the inevitable lecture to come from the one and only Nicolas Sturniolo.

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader

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puckinghischier · 29 days

Text

Chef’s Kiss

Nico x fem!reader, soft!Nico, domestic!Nico

summary: Nico fluff, basically

notes: i just really love soft nico and couldn’t get him out of my head so here’s this (also ignore the fact i keep using the same pics in my posts, i need to find more 💀)

[2k]

Nico was always trying to do little things to bring a smile to your face. Whether it was having the laundry washed, folded, and put away by the time you got home, sending you funny videos and silly selfies throughout the day, or simply having a glass of your favorite wine waiting on you as soon as you walked through the door, he loved providing small moments of happiness for you. He didn’t have time to do things for you often, his schedule getting increasingly busier as the season goes on, but today he had a completely free afternoon and wanted to have your favorite meal plated and waiting for you to enjoy as soon as you got off work. The idea came to him when you called him on what was supposed to be your lunch break.

“Neeks, I’m so sorry but I have to work late again. I’m having to re-do all of my reports for the day because my boss didn’t like the format that I used, even though it’s the exact format he told me to use three days ago! I swear sometimes he just wants to make my life a living hell. I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

Nico had a fond smile on his face, despite the nature of your call; hearing you rant to him about work was always something he looked forward to. While he didn’t love the fact that you were upset and that your boss was a grade A asshole, he loved being the one you came to when you were frustrated and just needed to blow off steam. It always made him happy to know that he was the one you called when you needed a mid-day pick me up on particularly stressful days. He had tried to tell you multiple times to just quit—that he makes enough for the both of you to live on – but you wouldn’t even entertain the thought. You’d always tell him no and that you needed to pull your weight with the bills and rent, too. You didn’t want to have all of the tears you shed while you were in college go to waste. To quote your exact words ‘I’m going to use this damn degree even if it kills me’. He admired your work ethic and that you didn’t want to have him be your own personal bank, but it was times like this he wishes you would just take his suggestion to heart and actually quit.

“I understand, but don’t work too late, schatz. It’s not good for you. Tuck and I will be here waiting on you when you get here,” Nico looks over at the cat quietly snoozing over on the couch. “I noticed you left your lunch in the fridge; do you need me to bring you something? I don’t have to go back to the rink today for anything, so I could pick up something from that sushi place you like and we could have a little lunch date? Give you a few minutes to reset and recharge?”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t have time to eat today anyways. At this point working through lunch is the only way I’ll be able to come home before midnight. Thanks for the offer, though, Neeks. I have to go, my boss is calling me, probably to tell me something else I did wrong. I’ll text you when I leave, love you,” you hang up the phone, not giving Nico a chance to respond. He knows your boss hates when he catches you taking personal calls on company time, so he just sends you a simple “I love you, too. Please eat something and don’t work too hard” text since you hung up before he had time to tell you himself.

As soon as he pressed send, Nico grabbed his keys and took off to the grocery store. He really only went to pick up the ingredients to make dinner, but he couldn’t help making a quick stop at the local florist, grabbing a small bouquet of daisies he knows you’ll love. As he was driving home, he remembers this bakery you had told him you’ve been wanting to try, so he finds himself in said bakery picking out a few baked goods for you to taste test (and maybe a few for himself, too). By the time he had made it back home it was well past five, when you typically leave your office for the day. Once he brought his haul of groceries, flowers, and pastries in the door, Tuck greeted him by meowing loudly for his food.

“Sorry, Tuck, I’m late for dinner, aren’t I?” Nico asks the cat as he walks over and fills the hangry cat’s food bowl. “Now that you’re fed, I need to get to work on feeding your mom. That is, if I can manage not to burn anything.”

Nico got to work immediately, turning on the cooking playlist you had made and grabbing his ‘Kiss the Swiss’ apron you had jokingly gifted him for Christmas. He pulled out the recipe book that your mom gave you two as a house-warming gift when you first moved in. Just last week you had been talking about how you missed your mom’s famous pasta, so he decided that was his attempted dish of the night. He laid out all of the ingredients and followed the recipe as closely as he could, paying special attention to all of the little notes your mother added in the margins of the typed recipe. About an hour into Nico’s cooking you sent him a text that you were nearly finished and would be home soon, but he was so busy trying to perfect making pasta from scratch that he never even looked at his phone. When he was on his third attempt at the pasta dough, he heard the front door open.

He looked over at the clock to see that it was nearly seven-thirty. He heard your keys hit the bowl sitting on the small table beside the front door and your sigh of relief once you took your shoes off. He could hear the soft thuds your feet made on the hardwood while you walked into the living room. He looked up from the counter to see your tired body drift over to the couch where Tuck laid sound asleep.

“Hey, Tuck. How was your day? Did you catch a lot of Z’s? Dream about catching mice? Poop on your dad’s pillow again?” Nico heard your soft voice say, chuckling at your last question.

The poor kitten had, somehow, got locked in yours and Nico’s bedroom a few weeks ago and neither of you noticed until it was well past feeding time and the little furball hadn’t come running into the kitchen screaming for his dinner. It took the two of you twenty minutes to hear the soft meows coming from your bedroom, the TV in the living room having drowned them out for most of the day. As soon as you opened the door Tuck came sprinting out of the room as fast as he could, acting as if he’d been in there for days. He ran straight to his food bowl and turned around, glaring at Nico and yourself. Later that evening the two of you made your way to the bedroom to settle down for the night only to find that Tuck had left a nice, smelly present on his pillow. Nico was appalled, to say the least. Gagging and holding his pillow out with straight arms as if it was poisonous. You, however, were doubled over with laughter. You fell onto the bed and were laughing hysterically when Nico finally came back into the room, no pillow to be seen.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing; it’s disgusting! The cat shit on my pillow!” Nico expressed, standing in front of the bed with his arm crossed, looking like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

“Neeks, it’s hilarious! Out of all the places in the room he could’ve shit, he saw your pillow and thought ‘Ah, yes. Dad’s pillow. I think this will be my new bathroom.” You wipe the tears from your eyes, slightly out of breath from your laughing fit.

“Well, of course it’s funny when it’s not your pillow! If he would’ve shit on your pillow, you would be as upset as I am.” Nico huffed, still in his childish stance.

“Wait, where is your pillow?”

“In the trash.”

“You threw away the whole pillow!?” you exclaimed, starting to laugh all over again.

“Of course, I threw away the whole pillow! I’m not about to sleep on that thing tonight! It’s contaminated!”

“Nico, you could’ve just gotten a new pillow case. You didn’t have to throw your whole pillow away! What are you going to sleep on tonight?” You asked him, amusement clear in your voice.

“Well…I didn’t think that far ahead,” Nico said, his stance deflating a little.

He ended up sleeping on a throw pillow from the couch that night, picking up a new pillow on his way home from practice the next morning. Since then, the two of you have always made sure to keep your bedroom door open anytime Tuck isn’t in his usual spot on the couch.

Nico smiles at the memory, completely forgetting the fact that he was supposed to be kneading the pasta dough in his hands. By the time his thoughts circulate back to the task at hand, he hears you ask the cat “Where’s your dad, huh?” followed by the sound of your clothes rustling as you move to get off of the couch.

“Nico? You in here?” you call as you walk around the corner of the living room into the kitchen. “Neeks- Oh, there you are. What are you doing?” You stopped in the doorway of the kitchen when you took in the scene in front of you. The pots and pans on the stove, the steam coming from a pot of boiling water, the smell of chicken in the oven, and the bouquet of flowers and box of pastries on the counter next to them. Then your eyes move over to Nico, noticing he was absolutely covered in flour. He had flour in his hair, on his face, on his apron, in the floor, and all over the counter.

“Nico, what the hell are you doing? What is all of this?” you asked him once the two of you made eye contact.

“Well, I was trying to have dinner waiting on you when you got home because I know you’ve had a shitty day, but I’ve just now realized that I don’t know how to make pasta from scratch.”

“Why are you trying to make pasta from scratch?” you walk towards him, laughing at how distraught he looks.

“You said you’ve been craving your mom’s pasta recipe, so I thought it would be a good way to cheer you up after the day that you’ve had,” he replied, grabbing a towel to wipe the flour off of his hands.

“Nico, I love you, I do. And I appreciate the effort, but please throw that ball of…whatever that is in the trash and just use dried pasta next time,” you look over at what’s supposed to be pasta dough, reaching him and placing your arms on his shoulders, hands coming together to rest on the back of his neck.

“I try to make you a nice meal and this is the response I get? No ‘nice try’ or ‘wow, it smells great in here!’” he jokes, looking down at you, attempting to look offended, but his eyes only reflect love and amusement.

“You’ll get real praise when you learn how to make pasta from scratch. For now, consider this your compliment,” you stand on your toes, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“You call that a compliment? Read the apron and try again.”

You laugh before meeting him halfway for a real kiss this time, thinking to yourself just how lucky you were to have Nico in your life.

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cumikering · 5 months

Text

Keegan Russ x reader

3.5k | fluff, second chance, childhood friends

You matched with Keegan on Tinder

@glitterypirateduck’s holiday challenge, inspired by I Don’t Do Drugs by Doja Cat

“No way.” You shook your head. “Not Keegan goddamn Russ.” You chuckled as you stared at his profile.

It had been over 15 years since you saw him last. His teeth might have been straight, bowl cut replaced by a far more fitting fade cut, but his sharp blue eyes and easy smile remained. They were unmistakable.

This dude hadn’t crossed your mind in years, but you were pleasantly surprised to see he’d grown to be a tall and athletic Marine. You hated to admit that he got hot, even that not having a stupid haircut wasn’t a very high bar to begin with.

You zeroed in on his smile again. He was attractive and he knew it. He couldn’t have been there for anything serious.

You laughed to yourself. “What the hell,” you said and swiped right on him.

At the other end of town, Keegan laid in bed, swiping mindlessly on his phone. Left… Left… Oh!? … Yeah, another left… Until his hand froze when he saw your card.

“Goddamn,” he muttered as he rolled to his side, clutching his phone. Where the hell were you all this time?

He took his time ogling your photos. The first one was a full body picture, your figure on display in your tight jeans. The second was a selfie, your eyes bright, donning a brilliant smile and glossy lips. The last two were group photos. He loved your style – comfortable yet tasteful. Your genuine laughter and the twinkle in your eye as you sat among your friends mesmerised him.

Okay, so you were the life of the party.

Keegan often worried about not having enough to say and preferred chattier dates who’d lead the conversation. Evidently, he didn’t have to worry about that with you… Because you probably wouldn’t even look at him twice. With looks like that, you could have anyone.

He lied on his back and gawked at your selfie again, biting his lip.

“What the hell,” he said to himself and swiped right.

He nearly dropped his phone on his face when it chimed right away. It’s a match! He gasped.

He stared at the empty chat window, fingers drumming on his thigh as he contemplated what to say. He wished he had more game.

After a minute, he settled with a simple Hi, hope you’re doing alright :) are you from the area?

You seemed a little quiet the first day of texting, but he’d expected that, a usual occurrence in his endeavour. Keegan didn’t relent, coming up with discussions, although some he had to admit were rather lame. Soon, you asked him specific questions about himself, allowing the conversation to pour throughout the days. He stopped thinking too hard when replying.

As it turned out, you were from the same hometown. You went to different high schools, but had a few mutual friends, although none he knew anymore. He barely kept in contact with anyone back home safe for the handful of his close high school friends.

Now that he reached for his phone far more often on base, grinning at that, it took no time for people to notice the newfound habit.

“We need to tell command someone’s hardly working.” Ajax nudged Kick, nodding at Keegan at the far end of the rec room. “He keeps looking at that one selfie.”

He chuckled. “If it’s too good to be true, it probably is. Don’t get catfished, bro.”

“Or ghosted.” Ajax roared in laughter. He had no business sounding so proud of his pun.

Keegan’s eyes narrowed at them before looking back down at his phone. He wasn’t going to let his buddies stop him from sending you the What kind of bread are you? quiz.

At night, it’d also become a routine to text. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but it grew to be the highlight of his day. He could unwind and laugh with you without having to wait long to have you text back. His bed felt less empty, a little less cold.

“I’d really like to meet you. You’re wonderful,” he said longingly at his phone.

He knew he wanted to after the third day, but didn’t initiate a date in fear of moving too fast and appalling you. But after over a week, with his next deployment inching closer, he’d grown impatient and a bit mad at himself for overthinking the matter. He didn’t remember asking anyone on a date being that unnerving.

Unprompted, your name flashed across his screen, sending his heart racing. Keegan sat up and cleared his throat before answering.

“Hey,” he said with as much smoothness as he could muster.

“Hi, Keegan.”

He could hear the smile in your voice, and he prayed he had even a fraction of the effect you had on him, on you.

“I was wondering if you’re into soccer?”

His brows furrowed. Hell no, he wasn’t at all.

“You want to watch the World Cup screening with me Saturday night?”

But for you? Well for you, he was the biggest fan in town.

“Sure,” he answered immediately. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was it Christmas already?

“For dinner, there’s a taco truck I like near the sports bar, if you’d like to try.”

He tried not to smile too much, but he was failing miserably. He was two seconds away from puking out the butterflies in his stomach.

“Sounds great,” he breathed. “I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

“Me too.” Your easy voice calmed him.

Kick’s comment crossed his mind. He stilled for a moment and decided he didn’t care what you looked like. The little of you he got to know the past week was enough to get him hooked.

“Well, I only wanted to ask that. I’m going to bed.”

“So soon?”

You let out a small laugh. Oh, he wanted to stay on the phone all night.

“Talk to you again tomorrow, okay? Send me more quizzes.”

After you hung up, he bit down a silly grin as he pulled up your photos again.

The following night, struck with a sudden burst of confidence, Keegan called when you were both in bed. He’d expected the pauses on his end (which was why he always preferred texting), but you didn’t seem to mind. At least he knew you weren’t opposed to talking to him. You stayed on the line for half an hour, your laughter lulled his reeling mind.

Saturday couldn’t have come sooner. He’d shaved that morning and put on some cologne before taking way too long to pick an outfit. He hoped it didn’t look like he was trying too hard.

You declined his offer to pick you up. He didn’t take it personally - he was a patient man after all. But when he’d arrived a little too early, he started to lose his cool the longer he leaned on the streetlamp.

He had to do a double take when he caught sight of you walking towards him. Oh, look at the way you lit up, your smile the same brilliant one like in your photos. You were in those delightful jeans again, your hair bouncing to your steps. He straightened up and met you halfway.

“Hi,” you said when you got to him.

“Hey.” His smile didn’t waver. “You look great.”

You took the words out of his lips, the words that he already had so few of. This was the opposite of catfish because you were far prettier in real life. He needed you to hold his hand because he wasn’t going to look where he was going.

He couldn’t wait to brag to Kick and Ajax.

You looked up at him, eyes bright. “Thank you. You look nice yourself.”

He followed you to join the short queue. He stole a glance as you ordered.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to the cook, giving your hand a gentle nudge when you tried to pay.

First skin contact. Innocent enough.

But why did it get so warm all of a sudden? He hoped he wasn’t sweating. Fuck, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he shove them in his pockets? How close was the acceptable distance to stand next to you?

Well, he certainly stood close enough for you to catch a faint waft of his cologne.

You meant it when you said he looked good. He wore a light jacket over a black shirt, light washed jeans and sneakers. His jet black hair was styled, a little longer than in his photos. The way he stood with his hands in his pockets accentuated his build, his watch a nice touch.

Sure, curiosity got you at first. It quickly came to light that he didn’t recognise you – granted you used a nickname – but you found it amusing nonetheless. You didn’t even mean it to get that far but after talking to him, you couldn’t help but want more.

Dating was always daunting; putting your heart on the line like that rendered you vulnerable. It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate – his company was delightful, but whatever you had between you felt stagnant. You thought your initial assumption was right: he wasn’t looking for anything more. Was this a mistake after all?

You sat on the bench nearby, the drinks between you. You took two bites before you stalled.

Your face twisted. “Why’s this hot?”

“Is it? Mine isn’t at all.”

“It is ridiculously hot.” You blinked the tears away.

“Can’t be. Let me try.”

You handed him the taco, instead he grabbed your wrist and leaned in for a bite.

He gave you an amused smile. “It’s not hot at all. Here, I’ll have yours.”

By now, a few drops of sweat had broken out of your forehead. You didn’t question it when he swapped the paper plates on your thighs and took a huge bite.

It wasn’t supposed to be hot! This was so uncool, at your first meeting at that. Your gaze trained on the ground as you took a small bite of his which actually tasted normal. When you looked up, it was his turn to frown.

“Wait. It is.” He put the taco down. ”It is hot.”

“I told you!”

“Oh God. Oh shit,” he hissed, scrambling for his drink. “Why is it so hot?”

You stifled a giggle. “They must have put the wrong sauce in mine, because yours tastes fine.”

“My tongue had never known such pain. What the hell is in this thing?” He continued gulping down his drink. “Oh no, it’s getting worse.” He sniffled before shoving the last half into his mouth.

“You know you don’t have to eat it, right?” You busted into laughter as he chew with all his might. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

His brows knitted, the agony in his watery eyes as clear as day. You handed him a serviette.

“That’s inhumane, but I’m a man of my word,” he said between hisses, wiping at his forehead. “My mouth is on fire. I need to inhale fire extinguisher.”

You could only offer him your drink which he gladly chugged. Still giggling, you finished your meal before making your way to the bar.

“I’m sorry, that was really embarrassing.” He grimaced through his drying tears, forehead still damp. “But at least you’re laughing. I like it when you laugh.”

You wanted to kiss him right then.

Keegan was the first man to make you willingly lose sleep in a long time, but his inaction didn’t sit right with you. Self-doubt inevitably crept up - maybe you simply weren’t his type, but you were too hooked to not at least shoot your shot despite your mounting fear of rejection. Your heart lodged in your throat when you called him that night.

Oh but his voice was so calm and soothing, and what for? He got you hanging onto every word - some straight up sounded like he was purring. Like now, he had to lean in closer and closer to talk over the noise as the bar continued to fill up. The deep rumble of his laughter so close in your ear got you biting your lip.

You didn’t want to like him so much, but here you were smiling non-stop the past hour. He’d taken his jacket off, his sturdy arms on display as he lied back. Now that was the highlight of his outfit. It didn’t help that he kept looking at you like that either; blue eyes piercing, brows striking with a cool smile.

It was unfair how effortlessly charming he was, like it was simply an unfortunate by product of being Keegan Russ, like he didn’t even mean it.

Well, evidently, Keegan was literally sweating about the humiliating incident. He sincerely hoped you wouldn’t excuse yourself to the bathroom to stand him up, but the smile hadn’t left your pretty face ever since. That was a good sign right?

Halfway into the first half, he extended his arm along the back of your seat, eyes still on the screen pretending to not notice the way your lips curled in amusement. You dragged your chair against his, thighs touching now. His fist clenched when you placed your hand on his knee.

He was secretly glad this was your first date – if he could even call it that. At least there was no pressure to keep making conversation and he could focus on your company, which he thoroughly enjoyed thus far. Was wrapping his arm around your waist an appropriate next move? He itched to be closer.

“How long have you been on Tinder?” You turned to him during halftime.

“A few months now.”

“Any luck?”

He looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t get a lot of matches, and when I do - even after many weeks of talking… Well as it turned out, people just aren’t very interested in dating long distance.”

When his eyes flicked up and met your sympathetic look, he wondered if he shouldn’t have been so honest.

“You? Any luck so far?” he asked quickly.

“I went on a few dates with someone who looked an awful lot like my first crush.” You let out a small laugh. “But that’s all. It didn’t work out.”

A speck of jealousy flickered in his chest. “Tell me about him. Your first crush.”

“Well, I was a late bloomer. It was in high school, he was a sophomore when I was a freshman.”

“Handsome dude?”

“Yes, but I actually never spoke to him.” You tilted your head and smiled. “Well, I did once, kind of. I don’t know what possessed me, but one day I walked up to him and gave him a bar of chocolate. He said thanks, and that was it.”

You looked over him. The crowd had started to move towards the bar

“I’ll get us more drinks before the wait gets too long.” You stood up.

Keegan perked up; he wasn’t going to miss his chance. When you came back, he’d mustered all his courage to tug on your wrist in the direction of his parted thighs. There was a glint in your eye as you indulged and he snaked his arm behind you, hand on his knee. You had a playful smile on your lips when you moved it to your waist and wrapped your arm around his neck.

He leaned onto your shoulder, his chest pressing against your side. He watched the way your eyes transfixed on the screen, how your glass would freeze against your lower lip at times. He couldn’t help smiling when you tensed up whenever someone got close to scoring a goal. His other arm wrapped around your waist.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off you when the bar erupted in cheers. You turned to him with a proud grin. Oh, your lips were just right there. He wasn’t going to survive the night.

Your favourite team won and you left the bar beaming. You were glad he offered to walk you home because you still wanted his presence. Your fingers curled around his forearm.

“I didn’t get to ask about your first crush.”

He chuckled to himself. “We were in fifth grade.”

“You ever told her?”

He shook his head. “She hated me. My friends used to tease her about her weight. I didn’t join in but I hung around anyway. I guess when you’re young you do dumb things to fall in.”

You remembered the raucous boys he hung out with.

“Over the summer, I convinced myself to finally say something, but she’d moved away.”

Had he not looked at where you were going, he’d have seen the shock on your face. Your heart skipped a beat. Is he talking about me?

“What was she like?”

“My memory’s fuzzy now, but she had two other girlfriends they teased too but she always stood up for them. Oh, was sassy too.” He smiled. “I used to stand around to overhear her jokes. If I laughed along, she’d stare me down until I left.”

You laughed, too hard for someone who supposedly wasn’t involved in the story. You remembered that too, the way prepubescent Keegan Russ and his dumb bowl cut scrambled away when you gave him bombastic side eye.

You couldn’t believe it. He had a crush on you?

“I think had I spoken up, we’d have been good friends.” He glanced at you with a smile. “You know, when I heard she’d moved away, I came home crying and my mum smacked me upside the head. Told me not to hang around with the shithead boys anymore.”

You stopped in your tracks and took your hand off his arm. “You really don’t recognise me?”

He turned to you, brows furrowed. “What?”

“You used to paste Superman stickers on my Barbie backpack.”

Keegan’s eyes widened. He turned away, a hand over his face, laughing out of pain. No fucking way. He wanted to disappear.

You chuckled. “A new one whenever I managed to peel the previous one off. Said they were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t recognise you at all.” He lowered his hand. “But you don’t even have the same name?”

“It’s the internet. You’re the weird one for using your real name.”

His brows rose. “You knew it was me all along?”

“Right away.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” He shook his head. “That’s just mean.”

“Was wondering if you remembered, but we were kids. I’m not surprised you didn’t recognise me or forgot.”

The corner of his lips pulled. “Well, I didn’t forget.” And probably won’t. You haven’t left my mind the past week.

And that voice was back, of course. He definitely knew what he was doing, and still you couldn’t get enough.

“Wait, no. Is this it?” He frowned. “Did you talk to me the entire time- meet me just for this?”

“No! No. I wanted to see you.” The edge in his voice stung more than you expected. “I… I didn’t think you’d even want to, because you didn’t make a move.”

His cold eyes searched yours, making your heart ache. If only he knew how much he made you smile, how many times a day you wished he’d replied when you checked your phone. You never wanted to see that pain in his face again.

“Please don’t lead me on,” he finally said, his gaze softening. “Not when you know you don’t want this.”

You wanted to hold him. “I promise I won’t. I know it’s early to say, but I want to try.”

He took a small step towards you. “Are you sure you like me?”

Suddenly he was once again the young Keegan who couldn’t meet your eyes, asking if you wanted to share the last of his favourite chocolate with him.

“Are you?”

“Positive.” His icy blues were back on you. You saw the wary hopefulness in them.

You closed the gap, arms wrapping around his waist. You let out a small sigh as your head rested on his shoulder.

“May I see you again?” He pulled you closer, his voice lighter now. “I want to go on a date. A real one, with my first crush with the death stare.”

You laughed against his neck.

Keegan hated getting ahead of himself, not knowing how many more times his hopes could be shattered before the shards got to small to meet again. But as he held you, he let his mind drift, just a little further, just this time.

With his eyes closed, he thought that maybe in the future - perhaps soon enough, someone would be waiting at the base to welcome him back with a smile and an embrace just like this.

More Keegan: fake dating, werewolf AU

A/N: I think the song represents the uncertainty in the initial stages of falling, when you keep trying to swallow the hopefulness, cautious of each other’s intentions as to not get hurt. It takes bravery handing your heart over to a stranger, unsure if they’ll just stomp on your feelings or be the best thing ever.

@sofasoap @b1rds3ye @macravishedbymactavish @shadofireshinobi @two-gh0sts

#codholiday2023 #call of duty #cod #cod fanfic #keegan x reader #call of duty ghosts #cod ghosts #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ x you #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #cod fluff #call of duty fluff #keegan russ fluff #keegan russ #keegan p russ #brian bloom u my fave tuker tambah dong

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lssugaluv · 1 month

Text

Things he says to you while doing the deed. 🤭

• Haikyuu x fem reader.

• Haikyuu + Headcanons.

• MDNI 18+

• Synopsis: He loves to praise you all the time, you deserve it. But he also knows how much you love dirty talks, especially when doing the deed. Each character has a different small story.

• Ushijima -Dominance.

• Kuroo - Smartass, Teasing.

• Iwazumi - The man is just so in love.

• Suna - Loves your taste, attached and in love.

• Osamu - Exes who are still in love.

• Daichi - Jealousy, dominance, petty.

• Contains: Timeskip HQ characters (all 21 or older), s3x talk, some cursing, dominance, small sex stories, oral s3x, some degradation, body praise, mentions of slight choking, pet names, temptation, teasing, pettiness, jealousy, some fluff (it’s not an Lssugaluv post without fluff.)

• Characters: Ushijima, Iwazumi, Daichi, Suna, Kuroo, Osamu.

• I choose these guys because I can just see their dominance in bed.

• Please let me know if you’ll want to see other characters.

Ushijima:

• “Look at me.”

• You will never ever get used to his girth. As many times as you’ve done it with Ushijima, the stretch is always something you can never get used too. Especially when he’s gone for a while due to his games and tournaments.

• Ushijima has you nice and wet making sure you’re prepped for his girth to rip you apart. As soon as you feel the tip in you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Open your eyes. I need you to look at me.”

As soon as you open your eyes, his are burning straight at you. He then continues to insert himself in you as you can’t help but gasp with widened eyes. He grits his teeth causing his jawline to pop out even more, groaning a bit, not breaking eyesight. He bottoms out and your arch your back , filling in the gap you two had. He loves to see you become a hot mess just for him.

Kuroo:

• “I Can Tell That You Want Me.”

• Oh, your favorite smartass. Kuroo and yourself were best friends with benefits back in high school. And you decided to lose your v-card with him a week after you guys graduated high school. You later on in time became a thing. You two work at the same place now and live together.

• Kuroo can be such a tease. Especially when it comes to pushing your buttons or getting inside your pants. No one at work actually knows that you and Kuroo are technically high school sweethearts. Not that you wanted your relationship to be a secret, but more because sex at work is always 10x better when kept in the DL. Plus, everyone at the office thinks you two are enemies, since you two tend to bicker a lot. Also, you guys agreed that if people find out, that’s fine.

Today you left 25 min after he did because you slept in, plus he had a big meeting right at 8 a.m that he couldn’t miss. You went to work in a sage green long sleeve that has fur on the collar and end of the sleeves. You paired it with a black mini skirt and see through leggings under. You didn’t have time to do your hair so your did a messy bun and paired it with accessories.

You had the whole office practically drooling for you. That was until your man spotted you. His hungry gaze couldn’t get off from you. You catch him staring from afar and text him.

You: “Do you need me to send you a selfie so it can last longer?”

Kuroo: “Damn, hot but always an asshole.”

You giggle at the message and look up to him and blow him a kiss.

You pass by him and purposely drop your pen in front of him. You bend down and he sees your gorgeous ass cheeks. He makes sure know one is around to pull you in and have you sit on his lap. Your back is facing his torso, rough hand on your neck, lips next to your ear. The other hand tightly around your waist, making sure you’re securely on him.

“I can tell that you want me baby.” He whispers into your ear, following a gentle bite.

“Can you really?” You slightly moan, pushing your ass into his now growing boner.

“Meet me at our spot in 5 min.” ❤️

Iwazumi:

• “I just can’t control myself when I’m around you.”

• You met Iwazumi through Oikawa last year and right away caught his attention. He is an ass to Oikawa but man does he love you. You guys finally decided to work something out and started to see each other. You wanted to start slow with him but life had other plans.

• Iwa is a man of consent. No matter how many times you’ve guys done it together already, he will never not ask for your consent first.

He came over after a week of not being able to see him due to your university’s schedule. As soon as you opened the door you noticed he had a boner already that was IN NEED of your attention. He pinned you to the wall at the entrance of your door. He had his hands all over your ass, mouth stuck on your jaw and neck.

“Baby, please, I need you.” You pant out after a steamy make out session.

“I’m sorry baby, we haven’t seen each other, and I know you want to catch up. But I just can’t control myself when I’m around you. Once you say yes, there’s no way I’ll stop.”

You nod your head yes as in giving him consent. You literally almost fold in half when he told you that. He picks you up in princess style and takes you to your bed, the rest was history.

Suna:

• “I love the way you taste. Never get tired of it.”

• When you first met Suna, he looked like a guy who just had no cares or worries in the world. Like you couldn’t break him, so you had no idea what he would think of or what type of hobbies he was in. Now you two have been dating for a year, and for some reason, every time he comes back from a tournament, he has to be buried in between your legs.

You were watching your favorite show when you hear a click on your apartment door. It was Suna who opened the door. He rushes to take off his shoes and leaves his bag and rest of his belongings at the entrance.

He doesn’t even say say hi to you when he right away pulls your pants & undies down and leaves you in your tee shirt with nothing on the bottom. You turn flush red from your face trying to push him away.

Without saying anything, he looks at you and pushes you down to the couch, his mouth connecting with yours. His tongue wrestles with yours and out of no where you feel a finger on your clit. He kisses your neck and then stops. He sits back up and taps on your thigh for you to do the same.

He puts that finger in his mouth, getting a taste of your delicious slick. His eyes almost stayed in the back of his head with that intense eye roll.

“I love the way you taste angel. I’ll never get tired of it.”

You turn even more red from embarrassment, and cover your face. He spreads your legs wide opened using his calloused hands. He wastes no time as he starts to lick your clit up and down, up and down. The warm sensation of his tongue making you almost cum right then and there. You use both your soft hands to palm his brown locks, and boy does he love that. He moans while eating you out, because he did miss your taste.

Daichi:

• “Don’t tempt me.”

• You have known Daichi for years. You two met in middle school and you know he can be a huge hot head. You know he can also be very territorial. Yet he is a huge sweetheart and very respectful. Now, after many years of dating him and being by his side, you are at a police academy ceremony, celebrating his new position as captain.

You are wearing a beautiful navy blue satin down. You look like a precious diamond, and of course Daichi is on protective mode. You see he was busy speaking to a small but important crowd during the cocktail hour. So you decide to go pour yourself some champagne.

As you were about to pour yourself some champagne, a big man stole the bottle from your hand. “If you’ll allow me too Miss.” He had such a husky tone. You turn to see a tall, handsome police officer who had a piercing on his right ear, a small yet curled mullet and gorgeous blue eyes. You stay in shock wondering how a handsome guy like him came across you.

You stood there frozen in place as he pours champagne into your cup. He then places the bottle back into its spot on the table and whispers something in your ear. That is when reality hit you when you felt a burning gaze heading right your way. You are completely flushed for your face, as you turn to see your boyfriend about to shoot the place down.

One thing about Daichi is, when he gets upset, it’s very hard to help him calm down. Another thing is, his aura is felt dozens of miles away when something/someone he loves is being taunted with. The tall male felt the same presence you felt and decided to casually walk away. He looks at Daichi as he walks towards him and places a hand on his broad shoulder. “Sorry man, didn’t know she was your’s.”

You quickly rush to the bathroom trying to disappear. When you hear the door knob twist and it was Daichi. You were looking at him through the mirror when he goes behind you. He places both strong arms around your small waist, chin on your shoulder. He takes some times to breathe in your beautiful scent. He whispers, “Darling, you know you look beautiful tonight?”

He places a small kiss on your jawline. “What did he say?” He then places another kiss , this time on your shoulder. You turn red all over again, “n-n-nothing.”

He sees this guy made you into a stuttering mess, which irks him even more. “Darling, I’ll give you one more chance, what did he say?” His warm breath next to your ear makes you so wet, you feel your about to drip on the floor.

Your silence was irritating him. “Darling, don’t tempt me.” His tone of voice drives you insane as he lets go of you and turns you around, lifting you up on the counter. He lifts up your gown as he unzips. He knows you want it, but since you don’t give him the answer he wants, you also don’t get what you want.

He rubs his angry dripping tip onto your clit causing you to be a moaning mess. You become impatient, wanting him to fill you up. You move your hips to line yourself up but he pulls away. “Oh no baby. I asked you a question twice. You didn’t answer and I told you not to temp me.” He caresses your cheek and gives you a passionate kiss. “Sorry baby.” He says as he puts his penis away and leaves you there a throbbing mess. “I’ll wait for you outside.” As he pecks your lips one last time.

Osamu:

• “Nobody understands your body like I do.”

• You and Osamu dated for a few years until a year after you both graduated from university, you two decided to part ways and stay friends. Due to his now growing business and your traveling job, you never saw each other which created unwanted distancing. You thought you both fell out of love, which you both never did. Osamu never wanted to part, but he has always respected your decisions and didn’t want to force you to stay.

You were invited to a party by your coworkers. You didn’t want to go but of course they forced you out. They wanted you to go out there and meet new people. You were in a cute black romper with your luscious locks nice and wavy.

At the party, you had about two drinks and were talking to your coworkers. A hot guy comes up to you and invites you to a drink. You are talking and all and that’s when you lose your mind seeing your ex boyfriend across from the balcony. “O-Osamu?” You think to yourself, completely shutting out the guy’s conversation. You excuse yourself to the bathroom and decide to leave the party and just go home. Seeing him after a year really threw off your whole vibe. And you couldn’t help how freaking sexy he looks now.

As soon as you enter your front home’s entrance, you hear a knock on the door. You open it thinking it was your coworkers to take you back to the party. Without knowing it was Osamu. Your eyes completely widened and you stay glued on one spot.

“What are you doing here?”

He walks into your home and hugs you.

“I’m glad I saw you. I really miss you.”

You couldn’t help but grow teary eyes. “Osamu.. I can’t-“

He cuts off your sentence by kissing you. He starts off with two small pecks and sees you don’t stop him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. He then kisses you, inviting his tongue in your mouth. He gains a sexy moan from you, knowing you’re already as horny as he is.

He pulls away gently to look at you. “Did my baby miss me too?”

You continue to kiss him to answer his question but then you go back to your senses. “Wait. We are broken up. We can’t do this.” You let go of him. He grabs you again, this time gently spreading your legs apart, brings his hand down to your underwear, moving it to the side. He slides one finger in, rubbing your clit in small circles.

You moan, hiding your face on his neck, taking in his scent you missed so much. You feel his finger slip out and you look up at him a bit frustrated since he stopped. You look at his finger that he’s holding up to your face.

“Ya see that angel? You’re completely wet. And it’s just for me.” His finger was completely soaked in your juices.

You become embarrassed and try to deny how crazy he has you. You try to deny that you miss him and his touch as well. You try to deny that you still love him.

He picks you up and takes you to the couch. He starts kissing you all over again, gently removing your clothes. He kisses your shoulders, your neck, your collarbones, your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. He kisses every part of your body. You feel like you’re about to cum, that’s how much you miss him. He undresses himself, showing off his gorgeous body. Now the two of you are completely naked.

He has you in the missionary position. He inserts himself in you, causing you to arch your back, moaning loudly. Your small hole is so tight, you cause him to groan onto your neck as he hugs you tightly.

Osamu starts to slowly pump in and out, in and out. Allowing to adjust to his size, it’s been too long.

“Ya think I don’t know ya baby? As soon as I saw you at that party, I knew you missed me.” His face a blushing mess. “Ya think ya can resist me? Ya think I can resist ya? As soon as ya kissed me, I knew ya wanted me.”

He thrusts himself hard in this sentence. Hitting your g-spot so delicious that you came after the last word.

“Nobody. Understands. Your. Body. Like. I. Do.”

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lovingseventeen · 11 months

Text

svt doing your makeup

a/n: i luv fluff and i luv seokmin UGH. and i’m releasing this as my 1k event is still going on bc i figured y’all deserve some new ideas too. but please go check out that series too! i’ll put the link to it right here <3

seungcheol:

✧ claims that sitting on his lap while he does it is necessary

✧ “sit here” he says, patting his lap, “i need you up close”

✧ tries to be as gentle as he can

✧ whines when eyeliner is hard to do then he whines even more when you laugh at him

jeonghan:

✧ lowkey pranks you by telling you he’ll attempt one look but he does something very different

✧ nothing crazy, like he wouldn’t purposefully make you look bad by any means

✧ but maybe he wants to gently push you out of your comfort zone so he picks a new eyeshadow color, but still subtly does it so it isn’t too vivid

✧ “you said you were gonna do my usual!” you gasped when you finally checked yourself in the mirror

✧ he actually did pretty well, you were just caught off guard

✧ “i always wondered how you’d look like this” he tells you, “and would you look at that, i knew you’d look so good”

joshua:

✧ he likes to watch when you get ready most of the time so he knew your routine for the most part

✧ his hands are confident as he works, his lips gently parted as he focuses

✧ tilts your face by gently holding your chin

✧ gets up very close to your face to put your makeup on but also to definitely fluster you (he’s evil for this)

jun:

✧ thinks watching one youtube tutorial is enough but it is in fact, not

✧ forgets how to do something as soon as he puts a dab of concealer on your face

✧ “wait, wait a minute-”

✧ he’s rewinding the video he referenced and maybe he swaps a method here and there - like jun the dot of makeup is starting to set

✧ you don’t look too bad at the end either, but he’s very relieved to be done (after an hour) as he’s spritzing your setting spray

soonyoung:

✧ get so excited, “can i pick your outfit too!”

✧ really really wants to do it well so he asks you about everything, every step of the way

✧ “is this the one they use when they get rid of my eye bags?” he asks

✧ “i have to tap the excess off right?”

✧ “what’s the difference between these two?”

✧ maybe you have to retouch a little at the end, but you’re proud of him (may have been light handed because he didn’t want to overdo it)

✧ loves it when you put on the outfit he picked and give him 360 of your look

✧ you give him a kiss on the cheek after and you leave a kiss print with your lipstick (he’s the kind of bf to not wipe it off too and he sends a selfie to the svt group chat to brag)

wonwoo:

✧ calm about the whole ordeal

✧ googles general makeup instructions and references this one article as he does your makeup

✧ he keeps looking back between the article and your face

✧ doesn’t go for anything over the top, but more or less just perfects your skin

✧ “very pretty” he comments as he assesses his work

jihoon:

✧ also does research and he’s the only member who learns how to undo a mistake

✧ he mutters to himself “wait, this is not it, wait, don’t look in the mirror right now,” as he’s scrambling for your concealer

✧ very careful hands

✧ kind of under pressure because he doesn’t want to be at fault for making you look bad

minghao:

✧ he’s so fun, he wants to do a matching look with you

✧ wants to go for something edgy, maybe some soft smokey eyeshadow

✧ winds up being a session where he does your makeup (with the most delicate hands) and you do his

✧ you also end up painting each other’s nails to add to the look

✧ easy to say both of you look very hot together

mingyu:

✧ APPALLED when you flinch away from him when he’s holding your eyeliner

✧ he’s already talking in pout when he goes “have i ever hurt you before? baby trust me”

✧ he’s so pouty from that point on and he’s even more motivated to make you pretty (well, more pretty than you already are)

✧ “here, look” he tells you, holding out a mirror so you can examine his work

✧ you gasp, “‘gyu you did so good!” he’s blushing but still a little sulky

✧ “see? i’d never hurt you! you had no reason to flinch!”

✧ “i know, i know” you assure him, taking your usual seat in his lap to wrap your arms around his neck to snuggle him. “thank you baby, i love it” (you know he’s already forgiven you when he wraps his strong arms around your waist to pull you closer)

seokmin:

✧ baby is so so gentle with you

✧ compliments you after ever step

✧ “your skin’s already so perfect i don’t have to do a lot..” he mumbles under his breath

✧ “wow this is so sparkly, your eyes are even prettier” he grins

✧ “pucker your lips for me?” he’ll ask (he takes off half of what he put on though because he cant fight the urge to peck your lips when they’re like this)

✧ squishes your cheeks when he’s done and he says “you’re so prettyyy” in that painfully adorable lovesick way he does

seungkwan:

✧ here’s our resident perfectionist — he does research thoroughly

✧ even finds some good alternatives for some of your current stuff

✧ winds up teaching you a better method for the looks you tend to go for

✧ “that’s not how i do it but-” you begin, only to be interrupted with “i thought you said i could do what i wanted! just wait, look, i’ll show you-”

✧ his lips are pursed and frankly, he’s starting to sweat because he’s passionate about getting you to look even better than you already do

✧ 10/10 look in the end, you could easily wear it out

vernon:

✧ he was surprised at your request to do your makeup but he agrees. though he does warn you it might not look great

✧ “you trust me with this?” he double checks as soon as you lay out your supplies on the desk

✧ “of course i do” this makes him grin

✧ he doesn’t look up anything but he lets you talk him through your steps and his touch is so light and a little awkward as he swipes across your eyelid

✧ he can’t hold his reactions when he messes up though, and he’s kind of like 😬 in that very specific vernon way. “i think you’re gonna wanna do this part babe” and he watches so intently as you do it

✧ amidst this though, he does learn about your process and even if he can’t do your look for you entirely, he might offer to do parts of your routine for you in the future. if you’re tired as you’re getting ready in the morning maybe he can lay your foundation for you and your concealer - the parts of your process that aren’t too intricate.

✧ future vernon maybe even offers to take off your makeup for you at the end of a day instead

chan:

✧ he believes the phrase “shoot for the moon. even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars”

✧ in hindsight, it could be poetic but he really just bites off more than he could chew

✧ rewatches the same ten seconds of a tutorial over and over again and he still doesn’t quite understand what cutting a crease means

✧ please kiss his forehead and walk him through it

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doobea · 6 months

Text

✰⋆⁺★ WE KEEP THIS LOVE IN A PHOTOGRAPH ─ CHOSO KAMO

synopsis: you're serious about getting an A for your photography class. so serious that you end up fake dating your best friend. and, well, it gets out of hand.

contents: no curse AU, gn!reader, sfw, fluff, mr ed scares me but his songs are corny bops, friends to lovers + fake dating, choso has been secretly pinning but waits for you to make first move hehe, a satosugu kfc joke thrown in here, i always make my readers a stem major but they're an artsy major here, i feel like choso will always be some sort of chem major in my stories because it just works???, kinda PROOF'D, i finished writing this at 4am... word count: 3.8K (crazy ik) a/n: i love him, i love him, i love him sm *explodes* songs related to this fic: out of my league by fitz and the tantrums + photograph by ed sheeran

The best part about majoring in photography is that you’ve enjoyed every single project you’re given. This year, your professor explained that she wanted all of her students’ projects to always follow a specific theme — happiness, sadness, anger, etc. And, throughout the year, you’ve gotten nothing but A’s on all of them. It’s something you’re proud about, something that you didn’t hesitate to tell your best friend Choso when he had asked about it the first time around.

However, this straight A streak might soon come to a stop as the end of the semester wraps up. Your professor had just gotten engaged a few weeks ago and today's the first time she’s returning back to classes from her honeymoon, which she hasn’t stopped gloating over. She’s happy and you’re happy for her, you really are, but the themes of the projects for this class usually revolves around what she’s feeling and, unfortunately for you, the last theme just happens to be—

“Love!” your professor writes the word in big pink letters on the chalkboard and you immediately hear half of the class cheering and half of them groaning. Safe to say, you’re part of the other half.

“Oh, c’mon guys,” she frowns before pointing to her diamond engagement ring. “Love is amazing, it’s beautiful, it’s everlasting—”

“Some of us are single, you know?” one student calls out, several others joining in right after. “What if we don’t have a partner?”

It’s a valid point. This project will be a piece of cake for anyone in a relationship. Half of the class will probably submit a folder with selfies with their partners. And, given that your professor is in a particular good mood for this assignment, it’ll be an easy A. You, on the other hand, have nothing to submit because you’re not dating anyone. If somehow your professor suggests taking photos of your crushes, then that’ll be really fucking weird.

“You don’t have to be in a relationship for this project to work,” she explains with a smile. “For example, you could always submit pictures of your crushes.”

Fuck that.

“Kinda borderline stalkerish,” your thoughts slip out quite audibly.

Other students around you quickly agree while the other half of the class is arguing to keep the theme. Your professor opens her mouth to protest but only ends up shutting it again.

“Okay,” she laughs nervously before clapping her hands together in an attempt to calm everyone down. “If anyone would like a modification to this assignment, just send me an email by the end of the day and I’ll make a slight adjustment.” she says seriously.

That seems to work as some of your classmates are already typing away on their laptops. You’re tempted to join the list, not out of frustration of being single, but rather because you’re not sure if getting an A is possible this time. You’re wondering if you should even bother asking Choso to be your little guinea pig, but that would probably be asking a lot from someone who already has a lot on their plate. Plus, it would be really weird to actually ask your crush to be your pretend boyfriend.

“How was class?”

“Fine.”

Choso cocks a brow as he slides into the dining booth across from you. He has a brightly assorted platter consisting of various vegetables and a fat salmon filet. He’s been lecturing to you about healthy eating habits a week ago after catching his half-brother downing a bunch of fried foods and burgers. What a health nut. Which is why he splits his sides of vegetables and adds some on your sparse plate when he sees you have nothing but a lonely scoop of pasta and fries.

“No, seriously, tell me what’s wrong,” and he gives you that look where you know you can’t make up an excuse out of it.

You gracefully jab your fork at some of the oven roasted carrots he placed down, chewing and swallowing them in a way that made it seem like they kidnapped your entire family. And, fuck, they taste really good.

“My professor told us about the final project today,” you start, eyes focusing only on your plate and avoiding your best friend at all costs.

“Yeah?” Choso slices a piece of the salmon off and plates it on top of your pasta. “What about it?”

You briefly frown at the action, feeling your cheeks burn up shamelessly because why does he have to be so attentive and perfect?

“The theme is ‘Love’ and… well, I don’t really have anyone.” you cringe, poking at the salmon until it shreds apart.

Your friend goes silent, making a low humming sound as if deep in thought. After some pauses, Choso speaks up, “What about crushes? Or celebrities?”

Your eyes immediately flick to his face at the word ‘crush’ but you steel yourself before your emotions betray you. You begin coughing into your fist, pretending to be choking on a piece of noodle before downing your glass of water.

“That’ll be weird, dude. I can’t just take a photo of my crush and I feel like celebrities would just be a shitty cop out.” Sadly, you’re quite the model student in your major, and you’re not going to half-ass a project just because it’ll still give you a passing grade.

“So, what’s your plan?” Choso asks genuinely.

You purse your lips together, shrinking back into your seat, gaze now downcast again. “I’m not sure… I’ve been doing really well in that class and, well, it would suck seeing a C on this assignment after all the hard work I’ve done.” you answer honestly.

He’s silent again and you can feel his foot tapping against yours underneath the table. Choso doesn’t show emotion easily on his face unless provoked, but you can tell he’s really focused on finding some sort of solution because he’s chewing the insides of his cheeks, brows slightly creased under his bangs, and the tattoo on his nose is slightly scrunched up. You probably think he looks the same when he’s taking his exams and, for some reason, it makes you kinda happy that he’s putting this much effort into this silly dilemma. Though, makes you also feel slightly guilty, too.

“Hey,” you put up your hands in defeat and laugh. “It’s alright, Cho. Unless you volunteer to be my fake boyfriend and I take cheesy selfies with you, I don’t think you gotta do anything for me.”

“No, I can do that.”

You go into a coughing fit again. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Well,” this time Choso looks slightly flustered, hand rubbing the back of his neck and the other drumming away on the tabletop. “If that gets you an A, then I’ll do it for you. If, you know, you’re okay with that?” When you don’t give him an immediate answer, Choso waves his hands dismissively in the air, shaking his head, “Actually, never mind, it’s a dumb idea.”

No, it’s a genius idea. An idea that you thought only existed in your fantasies. And, now, you can’t stop thinking about actually doing it. “We can do that,” you say quietly, swallowing a heavy lump. “A few sappy photoshoots and then we call it, yeah?”

Choso nods slowly. “Anything for that A, right?”

“Right,” you echo back.

The first photo shoot occurs pretty soon after the proposal. Choso had suggested that a dinner date would be a good start and he just happened to make a quick reservation at Kentucky Fried de Chicken, or KFC for short. He’s heard good reviews from his classmate Suguru prior and texted you its details.

Business casual, ambient lighting, and live jazz music. You’re starting to wonder if he’s taking this more seriously than you are.

The fancy restaurant is way fancier than you originally anticipated. It’s the type of fancy that only the richest of the rich would go to, definitely not where a bunch of college students like yourselves would hang around in. Still, it’s impressive that Choso managed to find a spot last minute. You hope to order just a mini appetizer to split and pray that they don’t charge for a glass of water like some places do.

“Fuck,” your eyes feel like they’re about to jump out when you breeze over the menu. “How do people justify these prices?”

Choso stifles a groan of his own, probably thinking about losing a week’s worth of pay to a side he can’t even pronounce. “Nepo babies,” he answers bitterly.

“Ugh, Suguru probably made Satoru pay for everything…” you mumbled. “Not that he would mind, I guess. He’s practically the definition of old money.”

“Sorry, next time I’ll pick somewhere less… flashy,” Choso frowns, seemingly disappointed in himself.

You feel a wave of guilt hit again. Shit, you didn’t mean to make him feel bad or poor on this pretend date. Hell, you can barely afford student housing but you would probably spend the last of your money in your bank account to treat Choso out. You’re under the delusion that he’s doing that right now. But, if anything, you should probably cover for most of it because it’s your project, not his.

You lightly kick his feet, careful enough to not scuff his only pair of loafers. “No, I’m sorry. This,” you motion to the hanging chandelier above the table and towards the live band across the room. “This is perfect, Choso. I’m gonna be jealous of your future partner.” you say fondly but also exasperated.

This makes him tense up, and you’re wondering if somehow he does have someone in mind. You’re about to ask, but the waiter swings by with two glasses of lemon water and a side of complementary towels. When the waiter starts asking for your orders and you respond with ‘just the broccolini’, he gives you an eye roll and scribbles the dish down with most likely a complaint added to it.

“Budget tight, I see.” the staff comments before moving to a busier table of actual business men.

You stick out a tongue once he’s out of sight. “Budget tight?” you mock his tone and Choso laughs from across. “Dude, the broccolini costs as much as a full tank of gas in this economy and he wants to complain about the size of our wallets?”

“Half of a tank of gas,” Choso corrects and waves his wallet around. “You’re my date for tonight, I think it’s fair that I pay.”

Your cheeks flush at his words and you’re glad that it’s dark otherwise Choso would probably think you’re having a fever right now. You swallow thickly, “Let me pay, you already cover for Yuuji’s groceries.”

“How about I pay for this and you can cover for the next photo shoot?” Well, you can’t really argue with that logic, as much as you do want to.

“I, ugh, okay fine,” and to lighten up the mood, you add, “As your date, it’s your job to spoil me tonight.”

Choso laughs a little, seemingly satisfied by your answer. “Yeah, I know.”

The broccolini ends up tasting subpar. But you both knew that, afterall, you couldn’t afford any of the entrees on the menu without going into debt. You split half of the dish, which really isn’t that much to begin with — maybe like three pieces for each person. You’ve seen Choso eat before, you practically have lunch and dinner with him almost every single day, but something about this feels entirely different.

He’s more careful, using the comically gold plated silverware to cut into the dish and making sure he doesn’t make a mess. There’s a certain softness in his eyes when he looks up, asking if the food is okay, if it’s too salty and if he should order more. Obviously, you say no, because you’re not the type to take advantage of his kindness, no matter how much he persists. When you manage to get a bit of sauce on your cheeks, he subconsciously reaches over and swipes it away with his thumb, only then do you smell his rich cologne and see that he’s freshly shaven in the face. It makes your dumb heart do even dumber flips until you remind yourself that it’s just for a class project.

The rest of the 'date' goes surprisingly well. Of course it does – you’re with your best friend, and the topic of fake dating doesn’t come up again in the night. You both end up making stupid games with each other about inventing fake backstories for all the rich old people in the restaurant, and you both have to bite down on your hands from laughing too loud.

It feels like a normal hangout but, in your mind, it’s so much more.

After another futile attempt to fight for the bill, Choso wins, and you both start leaving. You’re lagging behind him, hands fiddling on your camera settings as you look through the few photos you manage to take during the meal. The dim lighting makes Choso look moodier than usual, but the images still feel stiff and doesn’t really capture the whole ‘love’ theme.

You only look up again when Choso tugs on your sleeves, dragging you gently out the revolving doors and finally into the cool, night air, and you can’t help but gasp.

Choso blinks and his hands fly to his face, rubbing around for any traces of green florets. “Is there something on my face?”

“Don’t move,” you angle your camera, getting down to one knee and making sure the moonlight is shining directly at his sides because he looks absolutely ethereal right now.

The camera releases its shutters several times, taking at least ten photos in case one of them ends up looking bad, which is practically impossible because it’s Choso — but you’re not going to tell him that. Satisfied with the outcome, you rush up to him, bumping into his shoulder, and eagerly present the finished results.

“One of these is definitely going into the project,” you huff out with pride and Choso nods besides you.

“I’m not usually the type to have photos of myself but these are good,” he agrees. “Mind sending a few over?”

“Yeah,” you give him a soft smile and laugh.

You decide to save the first one for your portfolio and leave the other nine for your memories.

The second photo shoot ends up being domestic themed. Which is way better than paying for an overpriced meal.

It’s the weekend and also your monthly movie night marathon with Choso, so both of you are currently laying on either end of the couch in nothing but an oversized t-shirt and sweats. You decide, in order to fit the theme, that the perfect movie series to put on is the After series.

“Did you know that this first started out as a One Direction fanfic?” you huddle your knees close to your chest, eyes practically glued to the screen as the introduction plays.

“Is that why the reviews are bad?” he jabs.

Your eyes widen, scooting close to his side and pinching his arm as punishment for looking up the movie prior. “Hey, you’re supposed to go into this blind.”

“You’ve already read it though,” Choso counters and nudges you back.

“Yeah, and you haven’t,” you roll your eyes and somehow neither of you comment how close your bodies are.

You understand why they have to change the names of the characters due to copyright laws but you can’t help but to cringe at the replacement names. Harry is now Hardin, Zyan is now Zed, and Liam is now Landon. And the acting? Pretty bad. Possibly even worse compared to the Sharknado marathon you both had last month.

“That’s,” you pull out your fingers to count, “like the fifth sex scene within the past hour.”

In the middle of it, when Choso is pressed up against you, you decide it’s picture time. You raise the camera to fit you both, and throw up a peace sign, because why not? It’ll make a cute photo.

Or so you think until impulsively, Choso leans down and plants a chaste kiss on your head.

The photo ends up looking comically cute, with his eyes closed and your surprised look, but you're pretty much trying to keep yourself together from exploding on the spot.

“Sorry,” he pulls back, and there’s a heavy blush running across his cheeks as he says, “I thought it would look good and fit the theme.”

“R-Right,” you sharply inhale a breath as you wordlessly lean back into his touch, continuing the film without bringing up the kiss again.

When the third film starts playing, Choso ends up falling asleep on your shoulder, and you take it upon yourself to steal yourself a kiss on his forehead, somehow convincing yourself it’s for the project without even taking a photo.

“Have you ever, I dunno, thought about the fact that he likes you back?” Nobara asks bluntly during one particular evening at the library.

“Shh!” You press a finger on her lips, ignoring her muffled whines as you try to control the rapid beating from your chest. “Not so loud!”

Nobara sighs and pulls back, pen gliding across her notebook and draws a shitty version of you and Choso in the middle of the page. “This is you, and this is him,” she points at the figures before doodling hearts above. “This is you and him from everyone’s point of view—so disgustingly in love that it makes all of us physically vomit sometimes,” she says this in the nicest way possible.

“Dude,” you frown and hide your face behind a textbook, fearing that other students would overhear. “He doesn’t like me like that. We’ve been friends since forever and I feel like if we make a move on each other then our dynamic will be fucked.”

She blinks, unfazed by your frenzied state, and sighs again. “Keep telling yourself that.” Nobara rips out the doodle and slides it across the desk to you. You begrudgingly accept it, shoving it in your bag. “When are you guys meeting up? You have one more photo shoot, right?”

“Later tonight, in his dorm,” you mumble shyly, feeling yourself growing smaller at that fact.

Nobara snorts. “A sex photo shoot?”

“No!” and you slap a hand over your mouth once several students hush you. “No.” you repeat, softer this time.

She laughs and doesn’t push the conversation any further. “Mhm, okay, okay.”

A few hours later and you're browsing around in his dorm room, trying to understand some of his organic chemistry notes but all it does is makes your brain hurt.

“I don’t get how you’re able to do this,” you plop down on his bed, staring hard at the back of Choso’s head as he pulls out an earbud, chuckling at your frustration.

“I can teach you,” he offers, to which you immediately decline. “Or not, that’s cool, too.”

It bothers you a little of how normal everything is. You’ve definitely moved on from the kiss. Definitely. Not like you replayed it every day of your life for the past week. Not at all. Completely moved on. Yeah. Maybe Choso’s doing the same thing? Or, maybe he’s completely engrossed in his studies and you’re just a sick, sick friend who’s using your best friend? Yeah, maybe that’s it.

You clear your throat after a few beats in silence. “What did you have in mind?”

Choso hums in thought before shrugging. “Maybe capture something personal in my dorm? I think that’ll work.” Then, he gets up and excuses himself to the bathroom. “If you’re hungry, I have some snacks in my drawers. Be back in a second.”

When the door shuts, you let out a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. You’ve been in his room plenty of times and, after everything, it’s so hard to keep yourself composed around him. Ugh, this project wasn’t supposed to make you feel anything.

You take up his offer and start rummaging through his drawers. The top drawer consists of nothing but graphing paper and his carefully curated pens and pencils. His second drawer holds his other lab notebooks and extra scrap paper with scribbled notes. As you approach his third and final drawer, your gaze falls to an old photograph of you and Choso back in middle school on his desk.

It’s tucked away in the corner, just behind his lamp, and it’s a fond memory. Your arms are wrapped around his waist, his body slightly lifted above the ground, and your face looks absolutely constipated as you were trying your hardest to hold him. Choso, on the other hand, looks like he was about to burst into flames. Without thinking, you grab your camera and capture his desk, zooming in on the photo as the focal point. It’s slightly out of focus and a bit shaken up, like you couldn’t keep your hands still when you were taking it, but it’s perfect.

The following day you submit your portfolio, along with the rest of your classmates. Some complaining about how unfair the project was, some boasting about how it’s the easiest assignment out of the year, and some—you—are a bundle of nerves.

It’s not until the end of the week, where you’re having dinner with Choso in the dining hall, that you receive an email notification stating that grades are finally posted.

You jolt from your seat, swallowing the last bits of roasted vegetables on your platter, before checking your grades. One. Two. Three… when the site loads, you practically screech in celebration.

“I got the A!”

“Congrats,” Choso smiles softly before it fades away, replaced by a nervous laugh and then a frown. “I’m sorry about kissing you the other day.”

Wow, that’s not exactly what you were expecting.

You choke on your drink but he continues, “I can tell you’ve been acting weird since then. And I think I stepped out of the line doing it. I’m sorry.”

Fuck, what are you supposed to say to that?

You scratch the back of your neck, face now equally as warm as his. “Don’t apologize, I’m actually kinda glad you did…”

He blinks. “You are?”

“Yeah,” you nod and Choso flushes more at that.

Then, his eyebrows shoot up. “You like me?”

“A lot,” and he gets even redder. God, he has no idea how much you’re madly in love with him.

“So, I guess we can start taking photos together like an actual couple then?”

You laugh, not fully believing that this is how your confession gets to be known. “Yeah, I guess we can.”

Looking back at every photo, every longing moment to the lingering touches, kisses, and the methodical layout of his room, you wonder if there was a moment where you faked your feelings for one another. The simple answer is no, to anyone, these photographs only contain unconditional love.

#doobea writing #choso x reader #choso fluff #choso kamo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #i love him so much mwah <3 #jjk choso #choso #choso kamo

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