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#also the way we talk about alcohol is so funny
nekohime19 · 22 hours
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AITA for punching my girlfriend in the face?
(Part two of the previous post!! Let's go! Love writing funny looney toons style things like that. It's still Wukong POV.)
I didn't expect to get that much answers 😅. Anyway, thanks for the wisdom.
For those who didn’t see my last post (AITA for sleeping with the guy my girlfriend is cheating on me with) : I have a girlfriend (Venom) who cheated on me with another guy (Six). So out of pettiness I went to see Six. I learned he wasn't aware of my existence and was getting played too. We bonded, got wasted and kinda slept together.
Here are my answers to all your comments :
LaZen :
NTA, thought you definitely need to break up with her like yesterday, cheating is not cool and poor six who was the side dish :c its going to be awkward but six and you need to talk with a nice breakfast about what you two want to do now, revenge? Just a one night thing? Or get to know each other, wich i think is going to be the latter since both of you were getting along, the guy just got to town, maybe show him around as friends?
OP response :
Yeah, I think it's due time I confront Venom, even if I really don't want to. Idk, guess she's been with me for a long time so it's somehow scary to move on. I honestly don't know what I want with Six. I've never been interested in guys before? And maybe he only got pulled by the mood? Anyway, you're right, we do need to talk. Idk if I can make breakfast but, hey, burned egg aren't THAT bad.
Lagt :
Anyway not the asshole, maybe a stupid move but at that point why even bother coming back together if you two were already broke up? Like it feels like she couldn't decide
NTA
OP response :
😬 You're really calling me out with that one. Venom and I do have a pretty weird way to settle things. Guess I just got used to the constant breaking up and getting back together.
Sakurabloom_26 :
NTA, OP it doesn’t matter the reason, she cheated on you and played Six for a fool by making him her AP.
It wasn’t ok that you slept with her AP before breaking up with her (especially since the two of you were drunk), but considering you both were played for fools, I can’t blame you for shooting your shot.
As for what to do, wait for Six to wake up and decide on how the two of you are going to catch Venom in the act and then dump her.
Regarding Six, I’d take it slow, offer to be his friend and if you think there’s a genuine connection there, ask him out on a date (something simple like a coffee date, or a picnic), but be sure to assure him that if he doesn’t feel the same way that you still want to be friends (you both sound like you just need someone to genuinely be there for each other, so awkward emotions shouldn’t mean that your friendship has to end 😌)
Best of luck to you OP, I’m rooting for you 😊
OP response :
Yeaaah, wine really got into our heads and maybe we shouldn't have slept together. Honestly, being friends with Six doesn't sound bad. I’ve never been interested in guys before so it's pretty new. The thing is I don't know if I felt like that because of the mood or because of genuine feelings? Taking it slow might be better, especially since we're both kinda still with Venom at the moment?? Thanks!
Mystsong :
NTA, you were cheated on by Venom and Six had no clue what is or was going on. Not sure it was a good idea for you and Six to sleep together but you were also both impaired by alcohol so you both weren't thinking at the time. I'd definitely stay away from Venom and take things slow and steady with Six and see if there's something there. Also please be careful with Venom I've heard of some ex boyfriends/ex girlfriends doing some crazy things when they get mad at their exes or to keep control of their exes...and she sounds dangerous to do that. Also getting advice from some friends and family like your successor, Bud, might also be a good idea especially if you want to get proof of what Venom is up to and has been doing. Hope this helps you out. (Hugs sent)
OP response :
The things alcohol makes you do. Talking it out with Six might be for the best, idk if he'll want to see me again though? Guess I'll just have to ask. Maybe we can just be friends for now until we figure it out. Venom can be intense, yeah. I wouldn't put it past her to pull some shit like that. I don't want to involve Bud in this mess though, he's not really aware of me and Venom and he has enough problems because of me. (Hugs received)
Sag3mint :
Honestly wondering what Venom's reaction will be. Anger probably. 🤔
But once she realises that the reason why you and Six met is because of her, oh boy...... 🤭 That's gonna be massive blow to her ego.
OP response :
Oh boy, she's not gonna be happy that her bf and her side bf are getting it on together. This is gonna be a nuke field to travel through.
Halfdeadhalfpaniced :
Oh she’s definitely not going to take it well but technically none of this would have happened and you two would never have met if she didn’t cheat first. Honestly OP? He’s probably not the only one she’s ever cheated on you with and might not even be the only other person she’s currently seeing.
OP response :
It hurts to think about that, I hope she didn't… But I can't be certain.
Littleguy-dot-io :
nta.. you seemed to be doing yall a favor. venom. seems kinda like a bitch??? like bro.... pick a struggle. anyways sorry she did that to yall both but break with her
OP response :
At this point, Yeaaah, both Six and I really need to break up with her.
Furornocturna :
Okay, a LOT to unpack here, but I’ll try my best to give you some advice you desperately need.
Overall consensus? ESH.
Let me elaborate before you dismiss me outright.
Venom clearly sucks the worst here for cheating and stringing you and Six along.
You weren’t wrong for wanting revenge (I would too) and you weren’t wrong to tell Six about the situation (probably should have done it sober tho), but the two of you cheating on her back with each other… while admittedly a little hilarious as an outsider hearing this story secondhand, that doesn’t do either of you favors here. Not only did you sink to her level, but now the situation is messier than before that you now have to deal with when she finds out (which she will). You are going to have to confront Venom to end things with her, OP. Because that’s what you need to do.
From the looks of it, she checked out of the relationship three months ago, and the love there on your end was gone after you found out she was cheating, plus was likely already heading in that direction with the other background you gave on how things have been. And Six doesn’t deserve to be the side piece to her either.
First and foremost, you and Six both need to break things off with Venom (and deal with the fallout that comes with, as I have little doubt she’ll take the news well) before you proceed with anything else with whatever it is you want to do with each other. Which, despite the rather unorthodox circumstances, it appears that you two really hit it off.
But if this is something you want to pursue, platonically, romantically, or whatever else, you need to sort out yourself. You mentioned questioning your sexuality at the end of your post, so you’ll want to figure things out there before jumping headlong into another relationship. More than that, if you really like Six in any form, the last thing you want to do here is make him think he’s just a rebound. He was also hurt by Venom too. And make sure Six isn’t just rebounding on you either. You both really need to communicate on your wants, needs, feelings, etc, and how you want to proceed.
I hope things work out for you and Six. It really sucked that this happened (Venom cheating on you two, not you two finding each other), and I hope you both can recover from this and come out happier.
ALSO
Since you mentioned Venom causing city-wide damage in the past and how she’s caused issues with your successor, I worry both Bud and the city might also become casualties if Venom decides to retaliate against you and Six for breaking up with her/finding out her cheating. Don’t let them get caught up in the crossfire of this.
Make your next moves carefully, and you’ll get through this with the least amount of hassle.
Hope this helps!
OP response :
Honestly, I do feel kinda bad for sleeping with Six because of Venom. Even if I'm really angry and some petty part of me thinks she deserves it, I didn't intend for things to turn out like that. Things with Six just… spiraled, the alcohol didn't make it better. Not the first time wine makes me do stupid things. But, somehow, I don't regret it?? I definitely need to confront Venom and I sure as hell don't intend to keep dating her after this. Things will be messy and, you're right, I do need to watch out for her reaction and make sure things don't get out of control. I don't know how things will go with Six. Tbh, I don't know what I'm feeling for sure either, everything is kind of a mess right now? But right, talk, we need to talk.
Sorry if I made a mistake on you guys names, 😅.
And sooo, I have an update 👀
AITA for punching my girlfriend in the face?
After that night with Six I got up and tried to make breakfast. You know, something nice to set a nice mood. Problem is idk how to cook (I usually eat hair, it's a mystic monkey thing) sooo my attempt failed miserably and I ended up with a black goo that was supposed to be eggs.
I just settled for fruits. Like Six should like fruits, no ?? He's a monkey. So I prepared a nice basket and waited.
I was kinda nervous.
Which was very unlike me. I'm not a nervous guy. But I never did hook-ups before, not with a guy, and not with my girlfriend's secret side boyfriend much less. It was a messed up situation tbh and I felt guilty for what I did (somehow it kinda felt I cheated on Venom??), angry at Venom and also excited to see Six again.
Six woke up after a few minutes, he looked ruffled and very much like he spent the night having fun in the sheet (I'm proud of that tbh). He froze when he saw me. Dear in the headlight froze and we stared at each other for a long minute before I managed to awkwardly gesture towards the basket.
Six sat down and nibbled on some mangoes. Our conversation kinda went like this :
Me : “so, last night was… ?”
Six : “... A lot.”
Me : “Yeah… Huh, what do you wanna do?”
Six : “Don't know… Guess I'm just gonna keep my distance a bit.”
Me : “From Venom?”
Six : “Yeah…”
Me : “How about we confront her together?”
Honestly I said that because I didn't really want to confront Venom alone. She could be intense at times and, well, it was perhaps better to do it with everyone directly involved present.
But before Six could reply, Bud barged in.
Now, I'm not the best at keeping track of time but I usually know when Bud is coming. But with the whole situation it just slipped by me. The three of us froze and Bud's mouth fell open… For context, the marks of what we did last night were still very visible so it wasn't hard for Bud to connect the dots.
Now, Bud knows I'm with someone but I never told him of Venom. The main reason is because Venom is more on the “bad guy team” and doesn't think that kindly of Bud. Moreover, Bud has been the cause of a lot of arguments between Venom and I and I didn't want him to be involved with an angry Venom. I just didn't want things to get complicated and thought it was simpler to separate my love life from my mentor life. Maybe I was also a bit scared of how Bud was gonna react to me dating a “bad guy”.
Maybe that's why Bud's first reaction was to be excited and rush to Six, rambling about how he's finally able to meet my partner. I'm not blaming Bud for thinking this but Gods above it was so awkward.
If I said that Six wasn't my boyfriend, then Bud was going to think I'm cheating on my true partner (Venom)... Which is kinda the truth?? Somehow???
I honestly didn't know what to do and, at this point, I was feeling a lot of different emotions. I didn't want Bud's image of me to be tarnished but I didn't want to lie to him either about the situation. Six, who looked quite overwhelmed as well, didn't outrightly reject Bud's claim but clearly didn't agree with it either. He just… excused himself and took the opportunity to leave. Which I can understand. Dealing with Bud isn't his responsibility and he just learned he was a side piece yesterday, he probably needed some time to cool off and think clearly about what happened.
He smiled at me before leaving so I assumed that he's not that upset with me.
Gods that smile.
I avoided Bud's questions after this and put the subject to rest. Neither confirming or denying anything. I just told him we'd talk about it later. It's not like I didn’t want to confide in Bud, but I didn't want to drag him into this mess, he has enough already on his plate.
So now, fast-forward to three days after that incident. I took a lot of tests on the internet to know if I'm actually bi ?? I questioned a lot about myself, my own sexuality, and what I wanted to do with Six and Venom.
Six and I decided to meet again and clarify things. Mainly about what we wanted to do with Venom and how we should confront her. He came to my mountain and we sat down around some fruits, trying to figure out this whole mess and how we should go about it now. Honestly, both of us agreed we should break up for good with Venom. But we weren't sure if we should tell her about our lil “fun in the sheet”. Venom can have an explosive temper at times (she did destroy half of the city) so we didn't want to anger her more than necessary. I know I may be TA for wanting to keep my “kinda cheating” with Six a secret but at this point I just wanted to be done with Venom and not give her any more reasons to put the city or Bud in danger. It was a moment where both of us were emotionally vulnerable, and waisted. It wasn't wise, especially given the context, but I did insist that I didn't regret it. I really felt like we had a connection that night. However, before Six could reply, I saw Venom stomping down this way with an enraged look.
We both panicked. The marks of our night together were still somewhat visible and both of us didn't want to aggravate Venom more than she already was. In hindsight, maybe it was kind of a stupid move and would seem even more suspicious to Venom, but I pushed Six in the nearest cabinet. He looked livid so I just told him it wasn't the right moment yet and that I'd deal with her for now. I quickly applied some glamors to hide any marks and waited for Venom to arrive (for context, glamors is kind of like magic make-up).
She was furious. She paced and accused me of cheating on her. I pried a little for information and it turns out she overheard Bud talk about my male partner and, yeah, things spiraled down from there.
So my soon-to-be ex was ransacking the house in search of my supposed side piece and I was just nervously standing in front of the cabinet with Six inside. She approached the cabinet and was ready to throw hands. In a moment of sheer panic and instinctual reaction to years of fighting demons, I punched her in the face, not enough to truly do some damage (I can pack a mean punch) but enough to knock her out.
So now Venom is passed out on the floor and I'm feeling very guilty and Six is still inside the cabinet, I'm typing this with the speed of light.
Should I just tie her up???
So AITA??
AND WHAT DO I DO????
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lungfuls · 9 months
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People who flex their moderate relationship with alcohol annoy the shit out of me. No one has ever asked and it's sort of a cruel thing to flaunt if you don't know whether the people you're talking to have challenging relationships with booze
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weirdmageddon · 1 year
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i love these tags this person is so right
actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?
i wanna get into this actually
(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)
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even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie
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but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"
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im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,
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don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity
dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor
(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)
despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him
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rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said
and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol
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roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"
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side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.
i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect
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but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?
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yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise
so, dave's environment
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the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors
his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)
roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok
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what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)
rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:
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and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear
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but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable
there two types of ironies at play here:
seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)
doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)
you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.
"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"
how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1
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he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”
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dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.
*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift
dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:
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if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.
basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"
speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use
oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. ​she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”
btw dave lalonde would look like this to me
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pia-nor481 · 2 months
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Dating Advice
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Lando Norris x Reader x Daniel Ricciardo 18+
Lando is in desperate need of advice in securing a date. He does so, just not in the way he expected
6.8k words Masterlist
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"Don't laugh at me. It's not funny." Lando groaned, pouring himself another drink. "It is a little bit. You're a rich formula one driver who many women think is attractive and you can't get a second date. Are you sure it's not your personality." Daniel jested, arms behind his head as he leant back on the bed. "I'm being serious, asking for dating advice and all I get back is you laughing in my face. Is that not a turn off for your girlfriend?" Lando pouted, bringing the glass to his lips. "Hey don't start on me. You don't know how long it look me to actually get a girlfriend; who, may I add, wasn't easy to win over." Daniel said, reaching for his beer on the night stand. "Oh really, like you had to work for it. Rich formula one driver." Lando was a little bitter, he hadn't been laid in months, and it wasn't from a lack of trying. 
"Tell me what you're actually doing, maybe we can find the problem." Lando was convinced that he was meeting the wrong kind of woman. "Well, you know, usually I'd pick her up from her place, bring flowers...Don't act surprised I'm not evil. Go out to dinner, of course I pay, again I'm not evil, plus this is Monaco so it's kind of required of me...Then you know..." Lando trailed off, reaching for his drink, desperately trying to ease his nerves. "Are you kidding me. You really are a dog." Daniel laughed, almost choking on his beer. "I am not. You're acting like you weren't when you first started racing." The brit finally sat down sighing. "Not really, I didn't have much game back then. Plus, if that's how you're ending the night, why are you acting like you've not gotten any in months?" Lando just looked down at his glass, not acknowledging Daniel's presence in the slightest. "Oh my, you've slept with them all. Every eligible woman in Monaco you've already had sex with. What are you? Some streetwalker?" Lando's face contorted as he heard the Australian's voice, it didn't matter how the sentence was worded, it always sounded horrific. "Maybe. Look it's not that bad. I asked for advice didn't I? We've been friends for years. So...Help me, please." His voice almost whined in desperation. "It doesn't matter what advice I give you. There's no one left to exercise it on." Daniel laughed, getting up to grab another drink. 
"Please don't ask me if I know any good doctors." Daniel muttered, looking to the side at Lando. "I don't have an STD. I'm a slut not an idiot." Lando crossed his arms as he spoke. "Good."
"Anyway, we know what you've done wrong. She is automatically assuming that she's just a hook up. You've created that idea. " Daniel stated with his hands back behind his head. "One good thing you're doing right is the flowers, the rest must come from what you say." Lando was slightly hurt, but he had to admit it now that his friend pointed it out, that he was the problem. "To be honest I don't really remember what I said." Lando muttered into his glass. "Enough to get her into bed clearly...Sorry that was a low blow." The Australian was quick to sip on the alcohol before beginning to speak again. "So one of the best things you can do is really get her talking, mostly about herself. But put in a few double questions if you will; a question specific enough that it gets a slightly personal or unique response but also generic enough that she can ask about you. But first you have to complement her, 'You look gorgeous tonight', 'Those earrings are really pretty', one thing I will say about jewellery, don't ask where it's from or where she got it in case it's a family thing and you know talking about dead relatives ain't great chat. Anyway make sure it's specific, if she's wearing a gold necklace make sure you mention it's gold, it shows that you're actually paying attention to her." Lando payed attention to every word that left Daniel's mouth, taking mental notes diligently. 
"Then move onto DHA. Her dreams, hopes and aspirations. Trust me... panty peeler." Daniel stated like it was the simplest thing in the world. Lando shook his head slowly, trying to fathom how that would work in securing him a second date. "Seriously? What happened to not having game?" Lando said, astounded at Daniel's advice. "Hey, I have a girlfriend don't I? Plus it took six dates to even get her to my place so, I think I did pretty well." He spoke hand on his heart, clearly offended. "So, was it a panty peeler?" The brit rushed out, quickly downing the rest of his drink. Daniel rolled his eyes before speaking again. "Obviously, but definitely later than six dates. She wasn't easy." He was smiling just thinking about her. "Alright, don't rub it in."
"You know what?" Daniel started, almost jumping up from the bed. "You need to test your newfound knowledge." He slurred, stumbling slightly as he got up. They had been talking at Daniel's flat for hours, mostly about the recent Bills game and the next quadrant video, so talking for hours lead to plenty of alcohol. "What are you on about?" Lando wasn't particularly sober either, but that didn't stop his curiosity. "You need a fake date, where I can help guide you a bit." Lando's eyes widened hearing Daniel's proposal. "I'm not going out with you and you're girlfriend." Lando stated, shaking his head, he didn't drink as much as Daniel, he never did, but even he could tell that Daniel was in no state of mind for this conversation. "Nah man. We do it here. You can practice, get it right with some help, and maybe you can travel to Nice and find a lady there." It was clear Daniel was getting too excited about the thought. "I need to get home. We'll talk about this later."
When she came home from work the following morning she was surprised to find Daniel laying askew on the sofa. She made quick work in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and looking for some pain killers. "Danny." She whispered, shaking him slightly. "Danny, wake up." He slowly began to stir, meeting her eyes with a smile. "Morning, Darling." He almost groaned, taking the water but not the pills. Exhaustion painted her face as she sat beside him, curious about the night he had. 
"So, did you and Lando do anything interesting?" She spoke softly, mindful of the state Daniel is in. He bought his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into him before speaking. "Mostly stuff you've already heard from me or I know you don't really care for." She got up once again, not worried for her boyfriend anymore, and ventured back to the kitchen, desperate for a warm drink in what now was the morning. "But?" She asked as she opened the cupboards. "I found out he's slept with every single lady in Monaco, and possibly Nice, but he didn't say anything about the French." Daniel said as he got up, following her into the kitchen. "No." Her disbelief was apparent in her tone, even as Daniel slid his arms around her waist and mumbled a quiet 'I know' into her neck. Her cheeks warmed at the feeling. "So you spent hours talking to Lando about his love life?" She wanted to distract herself from the feeling of him against her, thinking about anything that would keep her thoughts away from the fact his cock was pushed against her ass. "Maybe a little bit of you...Anyway Lando was asking for a little bit of help with actually dating women." Daniel stole the mug out of her hand and took a sip, burning his tongue slightly. "Serves you right." She laughed, turning around in his grasp. "So what did you say?" She was curious, they spoke about past relationships before, Daniel mostly about his lack of them, so she was slightly shocked that Lando would go to her boyfriend for advice. In his younger days he was very focused on racing, to a point that he had no time for relationships, so at the time he was supposed to be learning the best way to woo a woman, his mind was filled with a steering wheel and how to use DRS. "Exactly what I did to win you over." His hands met her cheeks, pulling her in for a sweet kiss. 
"How kind of you. Considering he has already been with every woman in Monaco, is he going to be traveling to find himself a girlfriend?" Upon hearing her statement Daniel become slightly nervous, perhaps asking his partner to go on a fake date with one of his best friends was not the best idea. "Well I may have made a suggestion." His hand left her waist and found the back of his neck rather quickly as his eyes shifted from her face.  "I think Lando should practice before he travels to Italy to find a girlfriend." He said in a slightly higher tone. "Let me guess, you're brilliant idea was for me to be the date?" She pondered out loud. At this point she was really considering it, it didn't really have any impact in their relationship. So realistically what could go wrong? "Has Lando already agreed?" She asked with a small smile, easing Daniel's nerves slightly. "Not yet, I was pretty drunk when I suggested it, to be fair so was he, so maybe he doesn't even remember. We will see. The worst that can happen is he says no." A small shred of excitement ran through her. "Call him later, you know how long it takes him to get up after he's been drinking." 
She went to bed both peaceful and enthused. She was hopeful that Lando says yes, and this quickly led to a spiral of questions: Where would they be? What would she wear? What was he going to ask her? How would she answer? It almost concerned her, she probably shouldn't be feeling so excited to go on a date, even if it was a pretend one, with her boyfriend's friend. 
Daniel grabbed his phone almost immediately after she fell asleep. Lando struggled to pick up his phone while still laying in bed. Lando was smaller than Daniel so alcohol always hit him faster and for longer. "What do you want?" Lando groaned into the phone, eyes still closed. "That's no way to speak to the friend that secured you a practice date." Daniel huffed down the line, playfulness practically bubbling out of him. "Are you being serious? You actually remembered asking me to go on a date with your girlfriend, and have somehow convinced her?" Lando was both shocked and amused. He sat up slightly, running his hand through his curly hair. "I didn't actually do any convincing, if I'm honest she figured it out." The brit's jaw fell open slightly, not only did he not expect Daniel to remember, he especially didn't expect his girlfriend to agree. "When?" He we was unsure as to what made him ask, but if it was going to help him then it was a good idea. "Tomorrow night, around eight." Daniel spoke softly, not wanting to cause his friend anymore stress in an already immensely stressful situation. "Alright." He hung up and threw his phone back on the bed as he stood up. At this point in time he was mostly nervous and a little bit confused. There was a lot he needed to do before going to their house. Most of it being mental preparation. 
She awoke a few hours later with Daniel by her side. "Morning Love." He whispered as soft as possible. He said morning although it was a few minutes until it could be called afternoon. She moved in silence so her head was resting on her chest, leg over his. "What did he say?" She mumbled, interlocking their hands. "Yes." Her eyes widened, realising that she actually had to go on a date with Lando Norris. "It's tomorrow evening, here of course. I'll be you're chef and waiter." He giggled, squeezing her hand in his. "Okay." She whispered into his chest.  "Can I ask you something...It's unrelated but still important?" He questioned, avoiding her eyes once again. She hummed, looking up at him. "It's about what we talked about before." His nerves where sky high, they shouldn't have been considering it was his suggestion. "What's her name?" Daniel was extremely lucky that his girlfriend was okay with almost anything, well actually she was more willing to try almost everything. "First of all, never said it was a woman, second I've not found anyone. I was wondering if you have, or if you were maybe changing your mind." Daniel was sweet in more ways than one, he always asked, even if he think he knew the answer. "I haven't and no I've not. We talked about this months ago, have you changed your mind?" He shook his head, it was hard to find someone you trusted to have a threesome with. "What brought this about then? This is about Lando. Do you want to ask him?" Daniel would have asked Max if he wasn't in a committed relationship. But to think, he wanted to have a threesome with his former team mate. It sounded weird when he put it like that. "Maybe. I've only really thought about it for all of ten minutes, and to be fair, I have seen his nudes in his camera roll before. But hey that's a conversation for another time." His small rant sent a wave of curiosity through her. Would Lando be the right fit for them. "Lets take some baby steps. He asked for some dating advice, not to fuck us. We'll see how that goes, then we can see if he's willing." She stated, a rather wide smile painting her face. 
The following day Lando began to panic slightly as he slipped his arms through his shirt, and made work on the buttons. He felt as though it would be really awkward and that worried him. Would this sour his relationship with Daniel slightly? Lando didn't think he could cope with that. His hands shook slightly as he got out of his car, flowers in a lose grip. He knocked on the door a few times before she finally answered. "Hello Lando." He wanted to lightly kiss her cheek, as he usually would but hesitated, he needed to remember this is Daniel's girlfriend, not a random date. "Go for it, nothing is off limits. We need to see what you're doing." Daniel stated matter of factly. The word 'Nothing' worried Lando further, because what did nothing really mean? Lando pulled her in for a short hug as he kissed her cheek softly. He handed her the bouquet with a sweet smile. "Thank you, they are lovely." She almost whispered walking through the flat towards the kitchen, reaching for the vase. "How are you?" He asked, voice low. Lando never considered himself shy, but tonight he was struggling. "I've been good, looking forward to this evening with you." Lando thought her acting was all to convincing, no one's girlfriend should seem this enthusiastic about going on a date with their boyfriend's friend. "And how are you?" She was quick to question as she turned to face him. "Well, I've been looking forward to seeing you too." He stated sweetly. Soon the silence was interrupted by Daniel making an almost 'wrong buzzer sound'. "You can't just repeat what she just said, It looks like you're not really bothered. Try again." He turned back around, stirring the sauce for the pasta. Lando sighed before speaking again. "Really good actually. I've been excited to see you." He turned to the side, looking at Daniel for conformation, who just nodded slightly.
Lando linked their hands as he guided her to the table. Daniel came over and poured the wine and gave the brit a slight nod. "Start with step one." Lando's chest was rising and falling rather quickly, he had never been so anxious sat across the table from a lady before. "You're earrings are really pretty, I like that the stones match you're dress." He stated as a light blush painted his cheeks. Daniel helped her get ready, from choosing the dress to helping her put it on. He wanted her to be as she would if they were on a date, which included a gorgeous dress, pretty earrings and a lovely pair of heels. He loved getting ready with her, especially when she would button up his shirt for him. "That's good, you're being specific enough that she feels noticed." Daniel could read her like a book, he could tell that she was becoming flustered already. He complemented,  no practically worshiped her, all the time, yet she couldn't help her reaction to hearing it from Lando. "Oh, Um...Thank you." She was shocked in her own reaction and reached for her drink, taking a rather large sip.
 "So tell me, what have you been doing these past few days?" She questioned, leaning forward. Lando began to panic, he knows exactly what he did for the whole of the week, yet he just couldn't answer; he wasn't prepared to be asked a question so soon. He licked his lips before he began speaking. "I've spent some time with my sisters and my friend Danny. I think keeping up with family and friends is really important, so I try to do it as much as possible." Lando said with a small smile, looking back at her. "So what about you? Surely a pretty Lady like yourself must have had other dates." He asked, nerves rising once again as he brought his wine closer, almost cuddling the drink. "You have to be careful with that, depending on who she is, she might take that in a really bad way. Rephrase the sentence so you're not painting her as some kind of slut." 
Lando necked the glass for a small amount of extra confidence. "So what about you? A pretty Lady like yourself must be busy." He looked up to her again, a small smile on her face. He let her talk for a while, repeating the last few words of some sentence in an almost questioning tone, showing her that he was engaged. Daniel came over again, placing the bowls of pasta in front of them. "DHA." Was all he said as he looked at Lando, who's blush deepened at the thought. She was quickly confused by the acronym. This must have been 'How Daniel secured her'. "What do you plan to do in the future?" Lando was becoming slightly less nervous by the minute, until Daniel repeated the dreaded sound. "That's not specific enough. Show her that you're paying attention." The Australian stated, pulling himself on the counter. Lando was beginning to get frustrated. "What do you plan to do in the next three years?" Lando's tone was slightly sweeter, he waited until she said something small that could be expanded on. Daniel continued to eat the remaining pasta out of the pot as he listened to his girlfriend talk about her dreams, her answers have of course changed, but he felt almost a little hurt that he didn't know most of her answers. "Oh wow." Lando was genuinely surprised with what she wanted to achieve, it made him excited to see her again. Quickly he realised how wrong that was. He shouldn't find her as attractive as he does. Is he a terrible person? 
"That's all you've got to say? It's a good thing you're good in bed." She giggled out as Daniel choked on the pasta. "That was a bit mean Darling." Lando's blush deepened to a red. Was he supposed to become flustered when his friend spoke that was? Probably not. He shouldn't be reacting this way, he knows that, yet he can't help but feel slightly aroused. "Oh come on. He must be." She turned back to him with a sly smirk. Lando was confused, he knew if he told Daniel something then it was likely that she would be told too, and he didn't have a problem with it. But now he was surprised, he'd never heard her say such a thing. Lando felt as though he needed to match her, "Well I've not had any complaints." Her eyebrow furrowed before she lifted up her glass, finishing the rest of the drink. "Is that so?" Daniel mirrored her smile.
"Well it's hard to not be good at something you been doing for years, It's pretty easy to adapt woman to woman." Lando stated as his head tilted to the side. "Hold on. Hold on. You do the same thing...Every time?" Daniel jumped down from the counter in shock , while she was slightly taken aback and disappointed; Surely that couldn't have been fun, then again it was with different woman who would have all reacted differently, so maybe it wasn't as boring as it seemed. "You've got to spill, especially if none of their friends have said not to go out with you." The Australian practically begged. He pulling her out of the seat as Lando began to speak again. "You don't need those details." She was pulled into Daniel's lap during Lando's embarrassment. "Oh come on, please. It will help. You know what? Maybe it's not what you're saying, maybe it's the reputation you've created. They expect you to take em home and fuck em good." Daniel was a little tipsy again and Lando wasn't too far behind. "That's not gonna help me secure a date that is willing to come back." This so called 'date' quickly became an interrogation of friends. "Oh come on, we're curious, if every woman in Monaco wants to sleep with you, you must be good." She smiled, stealing her drink back from Daniel, who's arms were tight around her waist. "Well, I guess so, but it's not as fun as you think. Always being Dominant, always doing the work. It gets, pretty boring." 
They could finally see why he was so desperate, and although Daniel would disagree that always being dominant was boring, he could still sympathise. In a relationship there is more trust and willingness to experiment with one's partner, always keeping things interesting. Yet with dates accompanied with sex, that would be almost impossible to do.
"Okay then, why don't you be good and listen to what I have to say?" She whispered out in a rather seductive tone, leaving Daniel in the seat as she made way to the brit on the other side of the table. She pushed her knee between his legs as she began to speak, "Will you be good for me Lando?" Blood rushed to his cock as he finally made sense of the words that left her mouth. He shouldn't be as turned on as he was, he didn't know if he was even allowed to be. "Well Lando, are you?" Daniel repeated. How long had Lando been thinking? How long had he been focused on the feeling of his hard cock? Too long if it meant his friend gave him permission. "I promise, I'll be good." He almost whimpered , avoiding her eyes. She was quick to straddle him, grabbing his neck as she did so. "Yeah? Are you going to do everything I ask?" She whispered before lowering her lips towards his neck. "Yes, anything." Lando said followed by a low moan. Daniel was surprised to see this part of her. The Australian was quick to get involved. His fingers threaded through Lando's hair as he appeared behind him. "Good." Daniel said, voice dropping an octave. 
She pulled Lando out of the chair and towards the bedroom, Daniel quick to follow. "Strip." Was all she said when the brit reached the bed, and as he said he would, Lando listened. He made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, although struggling to begin with. As he reached the final button he looked up, eyes met with the sight of them kissing; Daniel's hands roamed over her slowly, first groping her ass shamelessly, before working his way up her spine, dancing over every vertebrae. Her hands rested on his jaw, almost as if she was pulling him in as close as possible. Lando was getting harder by the second, to the point it was almost painful. "Lando...Come take the dress off her." Daniel spoke in an almost condescending tone, and he knows it should not be as attractive as it is. Lando almost rushed over, pulling her hair out of the way before slowly sliding the zip down. She let the dress fall as she turned, looking at the desperate man before her. "I thought you said you were going to do everything I said. It seems you've decided to go back on your word already." She said shaking her head. Lando was confused for a moment, until he looked down, he only managed to take his shirt off, not the trousers. "So how are you going to punish him Darling?" Daniel asked, hands now resting on her hips, he pulled her back slightly, so her ass was resting against his hardening cock. "I think, since it was his first mistake, we go easy." She started, looking back at her boyfriend. Lando was slightly relieved until he heard her voice once more, "You don't get to cum. Not until you've made me and Daniel cum with your mouth. It's only fair since you can't follow simple instructions." She glanced back at Daniel and was pleased with the small nod from him. She knew she couldn't go too hard as didn't know what he could handle. Lando on the other hand didn't think he could cope any longer. His left hand could only get him off so much. He wanted to feel someone else, that's what he needed. So having that taken away from him was devastating. 
She moved towards the bed and sat at the edge, looking Lando in the eyes as she spoke. "Come here." She beckoned him over. The brit was quick to drop to his knees as he spread her legs further apart. He knew it wouldn't take him long to make her cum. That had almost become his specialty. Lando preferred to have multiple rounds so keeping foreplay as short as possible was almost a necessity for him, yet he still needed her well prepared. "Go on." Daniel whispered in his ear, pushing his head down lightly. Lando licked a long stripe up her cunt, looking up to see her reaction briefly. He wasn't told what she actually like so he wanted to find out as quick as possible. He first started by applying a light pressure with his tongue, circling slowly. He didn't even get so much as a gasp. As he began to lick up and down at a faster rate he let his thoughts come back.
 "A little faster." Daniel whispered again, feeling a little sorry for his friend. The Australian's hand travelled down from Lando's abs down to his cock, squeezing lightly, he could feel it throb in his hands. Lando moaned into her cunt, temporarily losing control of himself. He soon felt her leg over his shoulder, pulling his body closer to hers, and was quickly brought back to reality. He laid his tongue flat on her clit and shook his head side to side, conscious of the speed he was doing so, almost thankful for Daniel's help. "That's it Lando, make me feel good." She moaned, head falling back slightly. If Daniel was still touching him, he was sure that he would have come, even with the smallest touch. Lando continued his relentless movements even as she closed her thighs around him. He groaned once more knowing it would push her over the edge. "Yes. Yes. Yes Lando, fuck." Her hands met the sheets in a desperate need to steady her self as white clouded her vision. Lando slowed the movement of his tongue, letting her ride out the orgasm. Her moans became quieter the lighter the pressure Lando applied. "So good for me." She whispered, looking down at him. Lando blushed at the praise as it sent a wave of pleasure through him. "Do you like when I tell you how good you are? How good you make me feel? Does it get you off?" She questioned, leaning forward with a smirk. Lando was almost struggling to get his words out, mind fuzzy as he tried to think of a way to say yes. He was quick to nod his head extraordinarily quick. 
"I think that was a yes Darling." Daniel stated, pulling Lando back by his hair. "Take em off." He demanded, letting Lando catch his breath, Daniel was also aware of how overwhelming this could be for his friend. The brits hands came up quick, unbuttoning Daniel's jeans before pulling them down. Lando was slightly more worried about this, not just because he knew it would take him longer but because there was a high chance of him choking. Lando didn't know how to approach this as he'd never sucked dick before. Sure he had plenty of blowjobs but he didn't know how to give them. "You'll get praise when you do something worthy of it." Daniel said, pushing Lando's head closer to his cock.
"You need to spit a little." Lando felt her hands on his shoulders as she spoke. She was doing exactly what her boyfriend was doing before, guiding him teasingly, and Lando was both thankful and resentful of it. Although this time it was more of the former. "Wrap your hand around him, just below the head. Yeah that's it." She whispered, fingers tangling in his hair as she pushed his head so his lips were almost kissing the tip of Daniel cock. "Go on. You said you'd do everything I said." Lando was not ready for what ever punishment she was prepared to give him if he didn't comply. After coating Daniel's cock with his spit, Lando began to rub his thumb over the tip, teasing slightly. After a few seconds he let his hand form a fist and began stroking up and down slowly, never quite reaching the base. "I thought she said get us off with your mouth." Daniel stated, looking down at Lando with a smirk, who's nerves were rising by the second. "I'm not going to blow him for you. Start by licking the underside and take the tip into your mouth." She instructed as she slid her hand up his back, resting it between his shoulder blades. "So good. Be careful, don't take him too deep." She was quick to pull Lando back, making sure to teach him properly. "Breathe though your nose Baby. Start slow." She said, pushing his hair out of his face. 
Lando did as she said, taking an inch at a time, mindful of not holding his breath. He began to bob his head at a slightly faster pace, taking another inch or two. "Good, so good for me Lando." Daniel muttered, watching his cock disappear into the brit's mouth. Lando moaned as he did before, sending vibrations through Daniel's cock. "Careful, watch your teeth." Lando just didn't know what to do, it was almost like the praise was overriding his brain. He wanted to make them feel good, he wanted to see them cum but he wanted to be praised, he wanted to be told what to do. He was getting close, feeling her hands on his skin wasn't helping. Her fingers were tracing over every divot and it was driving him insane, so much so that his trousers were becoming impossibly tight. Lando almost pulled off fully before swallowing around the tip. "Fuck Lando, sure you haven't done this before?" Daniel gasped, hand now resting on Lando's head. He pulled off with a pop, gasping for air. "Promise I haven't...Please, hurts so much." He groaned, chest rising and falling quickly. "Not yet, you need to make me cum first." The Australian said, hand coming down to his face, rubbing the spit off of Lando's jaw. "Be good and you get to cum." Lando was quick to bring his mouth back to Daniel's cock, sucking the best he could as he began to bob his head again. In the meantime, her hands left his back and came down to his front, unbuttoning his trousers. She squeezed him rather tightly before undoing the zip. Lando moaned feeling the limited release of his cock, Daniel threw his head back in pleasure as he felt the vibration. "Focus on the head Lando, he's very close." She demanded, kissing and biting his neck, leaving distinct marks. Daniel came down his throat quickly, taking Lando off guard, who pulled away, attempting to catch his breath again. 
"You didn't have to swallow." Daniel stated, pulling Lando up from the ground. "I didn't have much choice." Lando whined, face contorted into disgust. "Don't get bratty, I'll leave you high and dry." He threatened looking towards his girlfriend with a large smile adorning his face. "I won't. Promise. Please, I need to cum so bad." He said, giving his best pleading eyes. Daniel's hands made contact with his skin before he pulled the remainder of Lando's clothes off. "Get on the bed, I want you against the headboard."
"And you, come here." Daniel pulled her in, kissing her passionately, letting his hands roam her skin once again, squeezing her tits and hips every now and then. He guided her to the end of the bed, pushing her down, watching her tits bounce as her back made contact with the mattress. Daniel was quick to climb on top of her, sliding his hands down her abdomen. She didn't realise how turned on she actual was. Did watching Lando give her boyfriend head really arouse her that much? "Fuck, you are so wet Darling." Evidently so. Daniel wanted to tease her slightly, even if they were both in control of Lando, he was still the one telling her what to do. He grasped her thigh with one hands, pushing her legs further apart. His fingers circled her clit slowly, waiting for her tell tale gasp of pleasure. "Oh please." Lando whined behind them, pulling on his hair slightly. "You're not allowed to touch yourself Lando. You have to wait." Daniel muttered, pushing a finger into her cunt slowly. "But it's not fair, I made you both cum." He said, sitting up straight, desperately wanting them to touch him. "Don't be a brat." She said in a pointed tone, turning her head towards the brit. Her demand was followed by a loud moan as Daniel pushed a second finger in. "She needs to be preped properly, too hard to fit you're dick in otherwise." She quickly became bashful and covered her face as Daniel began pumping and scissoring his fingers. His other hand rose from her leg and came to rest on her neck, squeezing lightly.
 "That's enough Darling, I can see how much he needs you." Daniel said, smacking her ass as she made when to Lando. "Be good for me baby." She whispered, holding onto his shoulders as she straddled his lap. "Finally getting what you need." She lined his cock up with her cunt as she spoke. Lando's hands came to rest on her hips, squeezing lightly. "Don't touch." She chastised, taking him fully. Lando's cock was hitting places Daniel's usually didn't and it was intoxicating. The feeling of having complete control over someone was almost taking her over, she could finally understand why Daniel always preferred to be in charge, it was so thrilling. "Please, faster, need it so bad." Lando was already moaning uncontrollably, his eyes closed and head fallen back.  She obliged and began bouncing faster, hands covering the bite marks she made earlier, making him wince loudly. As she began rocking her hips Daniel spoke, "Open your eyes Lando, you need to see." He did as he was instructed and was immediately met with her blissed out face and it pulled a low moan from his mouth. "Lando, look at me. Give me you're hand. That's it, You can touch her with your other, make her cum." His left hand was enveloped in Daniels, while his right came down to her clit, rubbing slightly harsh circles. Lando wanted to feel her cum around him, and this was the fastest way to do it. At the same time, Daniel was guiding his friend's hand back to his cock. "Come on, jerk me off. You must be really good at it now." Lando was stunned for a moment, brain struggling to comprehend. There was just so much happening, the overwhelming feeling if her cunt, the sound of her moans and Daniel's demands, it was all so thrilling to the brit. Lando made a fist around Daniel's cock once again, this time stroking faster than before and focused more on the head. The Australian was mindful of the state his friend was in and lead closer, grabbing his cheek softly and kissed his lips slowly, he felt every moan that wanted to leave Lando's mouth, and it jus riled him up even more. 
"Fuck Lando, that's it, a bit harder." Every part of him was occupied yet he wanted them ton take more, he didn't want anything left. Daniel was edging closer the longer he watched the scene before him; His darling girlfriend ruining Lando. "I'm gonna cum, fuck keep going." At this point the only thing Lando could do was follow instructions Daniel painted their skin white as her moans grew louder, and Lando's grip harshened. "So good for me Lando. Fuck." He lengthened the last few syllables as he came down from his high. Daniel's hands made way to his girlfriend, resting on her back to keep her steady. Lando could feel her tightening around his as his hand on her clit was replaced with Daniel's, giving her what he knows she needed. "Take a break Lando, just enjoy the feeling of her cunt. You deserve it." Lando's hips bucked without warning meeting her bounces. "Oh Please, let me cum. Please, please please." Lando begged loudly, voice practically bouncing off the walls. Daniel began to guide her hips bringing Lando ever closer. "Cum Darling, I know you're close." The Australian whispered in her ear, giving her clit one last harsh smack before she began convulsing around Lando, no longer in control of her own body. Lando was quick to follow, cumming inside with a loud groan as his back arched slightly, eyes rolling to the back of his head. 
They were both seeing stars as Daniel forced them both to ride out their high, he slowed the guiding of her body and began to kiss her neck softly. The only sounds in the room was their heavy breathing as she climbed off of Lando. They laid on either side of the brit, just enjoying each others presence. As she began to slip out of the haze, she let her hands trail over Lando's skin, draw shapes with feather light touches. His body was still twitching from the immense pleasure of her cunt. "Thank you...So good." He could barely from a sentence, still so fucked out. "You were so good for us, you deserved it." She whispered into his neck, shocked with the bruises she left. 
They could tell just by the look on Lando's face that he was already on the verge of being overstimulated and decided that just one orgasm was enough for now, especially with the amount of cum still spilling out of her cunt. "When was the last time you even came?" Daniel questioned, rubbing his thumb over Lando's forehead, brushing away the messy curls. "I don't...Know." He rushed out between heavy breaths. "It's been months since I been with anyone, and a while since I jacked off. Maybe a few weeks, could be a month...I really don't know." He said, turning his head so it was buried in her neck. A blush began rising to his face when he realised what he admitted. "So you really needed someone else to get you off huh. Interesting." Daniel said with an almost teasing tone. "It's a good thing we could help you then." She whispered into his hair. "And I think, we'd be more than willing to help you again."
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This took me way too long to write as I clearly went a little overboard in the build up. I hope you enjoyed.
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ilthit · 1 year
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Okay oooone more Cha Cha Cha post. 'Cause have we talked about stuff about that song that I recognize that could never come through to an international audience?
He's from Vantaa. I grew up there in a different time, it's a working class area.
Finnish ballroom culture leans heavily on Latin American dances, and cha cha is one especially associated with fun and parties in a kind of an uncool way, like a conga line, which the act also references.
Finnish drinking culture is drinking too much. Finnish party culture is also drinking too much. You wanna have fun, get prepared for alcohol poisoning.
Finnish songs tend to be sad or angry. Ballroom songs are sometimes the exception, though they can be melancholy too. Finns are kind of stiff and keep their problems to themselves, and Finnish masculinity means showing anger and competitiveness and being funny and clever, but hiding gentleness or vulnerability or need or anything too queer. It's the opposite of Latin heat, it's Nordic chill.
The way to break this is through getting shitfaced. That's what the song is about. You have locked yourself up inside yourself, all your rage and your gentleness have been held in check, you can't take another minute of it, but you know now you can drink. And you drink until finally the rigidity releases its hold. You are free. You are gentle. You are happy. You're not afraid of this world anymore.
The ugliness of the costume, the kind of a comedic reference to Latin culture is not, like, a pisstake on Latin music, but a reference to the bland imitation of it in Finnish ballroom culture. He is mocking himself and his own awkwardness and the specific culture he comes from (I could even say specifically Vantaa), while addressing this experience of being locked inside yourself, needing to drink so it will be socially acceptable or possible for you to defy that which is expected of a Finnish man.
It's not cringe if you were plastered. And when you're plastered, you're brave enough to be cringe.
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celestie0 · 8 months
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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]
kickoff ch.5 these feelings are hard to find
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ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot
ᰔ chapter. 5/x (probably 12)
ᰔ words. 10.4k
a/n. aaaa this chapter took me a while because i was having some pretty bad writer's block. i seriously can't believe it crossed over 10k words, i very poorly planned how much i wanted to get done by this chapter, but i didn't feel like splitting it into two so oh wellll. hope you enjoy! pls excuse any typos we all live on a floating rock.
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☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1
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“I really don’t understand why I’m here…” you’re grumbling as you, Mina and Todo make your way up the pavement of the driveway leading to the house party. You glance to your right where Mina and Todo are holding hands, arms swinging as they keep pace together. 
It was finally Friday after a particularly long and stressful week, so you were extremely excited to just spend the rest of the night relaxing at home. You had already poured yourself a glass of wine when you returned from your evening class and were sitting on the couch with a blanket on, scrolling through Netflix, when Mina approached you while she was talking to Todo on the phone. She mentioned something about an SAE party tonight that she wanted you to come along for and Todo said he’d extend his other invite to you. When you politely declined, Mina slumped down on the couch and told Todo she had no interest in going unless you also came. And then Todo was bribing you with a hundred bucks. Easiest hundred bucks you’ve ever made. 
“Don’t be a downer. You’re here because I think you’ve been working hard and you need to relax a bit,” Mina chirps, now clinging onto Todo’s arm, “and there’s no better way to relax than getting drunk.”
“I could be getting drunk at home,” you mumble to yourself, the night you were imagining for yourself all day being very different from where you find yourself now. 
The guy that was bouncing for tonight’s party was scanning people’s phones and engaging in some small talk before allowing people inside. He was pretty handsome and you wondered if there was some sort of requirement written in the rules to the SAE fraternity that they must be good-looking to join.
“Hello, my brother,” Todo says as he approaches, smacking him so hard on the back in greeting that the man stumbles over slightly and sends an irritated glare Todo’s way before he regains his balance.
“Hey, big guy, are these your invites?” He gestures towards you and Mina, his eyes landing on yours and lingering for a moment. You blink at him. 
“Yes, this here’s my lovely lady, and this here’s my lovely lady’s friend,” Todo says with a faux suave that only makes you narrow your eyes at him. The man at the entrance sighs and nods before stepping out of the way and motioning the three of you towards the entrance. 
The minute you enter, you immediately realize that this party felt very different from the one you were at last week. It was slightly less crowded, but there were still plenty of people bustling around the large expanse of the ground floor with loud rap music that practically shook the walls. It was dark, much more edgy, with the only source of light being the sporadic flashing of lights over by the DJ’s booth. You felt disoriented from the atmosphere, and the smell of weed and alcohol only further dazed you. 
“This is insane,” you barely hear Mina say beside you over the music as she looks around the expansive interior of the house. In between the brief flickering lights that lit up people’s faces, you register that Todo is grinning at her as though he was entirely satisfied by her reaction. 
You only make it a few steps inside, trailing behind Mina and Todo, before feeling the need to excuse yourself to get away from the intense environment for a second. “Hey, I think I’m going to use the restroom real quick. Todo, do you have any idea where it is?” You feel like you’re shouting just to be heard. 
He looks over his shoulder at you. “There are some downstairs but they probably have lines. You could try upstairs.” 
You give him an appreciative nod and head over to the base of the staircase at the right, glancing up before making your ascent. There didn’t seem to be anyone else upstairs, which surprised you, but you figured you were just in luck and began to walk up step by step until reaching the top. The music downstairs begins to sound muffled as you turn around the railing post and make your way to the left into the narrow hallway likely leading towards the bedrooms. There's a white door somewhere in the middle of the hallway that could only be either a closet or a bathroom. You wrap your hand around the cold metal door handle and twist, satisfied that it wasn’t locked.
The mumbling noises of people inside doesn’t register in your mind until you’ve already cracked the door open half-way, and your entire body recoils in the immediate rush of embarrassment washing over you as you take in the sight of two people, a man and a woman, getting handsy with one another in the bathroom. 
“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” is all you manage to squeak out, blinking dumbly at the scene. 
You’re quick to avert your gaze and about to close the door, incredibly mortified by what’s just happened, when the familiar silhouette in front of you causes you to freeze. You slowly lift your line of sight from the bathroom floor until Gojo Satoru is looking you straight in the eye from where he has a girl on the bathroom counter clinging to his shirt. 
“I…” you stutter, face feeling immediately hot as you let go of the door handle and look away from his shocked face. “Sorry,” you say again, this time barely above a whisper, before turning on your heel and making your way down the hallway in such a hurry that you don’t even realize you’re going the wrong way. You hear a feminine voice echo something in the bathroom like what the fuck are you doing?, and then there’s footsteps following after you that sound faster than your own. Ignoring the call of your name, you practically storm into one of the bedrooms, entirely relieved that it was empty, and can only take a couple of steps inside before a hand grabs at your wrist. A chill runs down your spine from the contact.
“Wait, y/n,” Gojo says behind you from where he’s followed you inside, sounding like he’s out of breath. His hand is still holding onto you, keeping you still and you can feel the roughness of his calluses against your skin. When you turn around to face him, he’s close to you and you see his chest is heaving, his hair is disheveled, his shirt is wrinkled at the front and there’s a crease in his brow. 
Your eyes don’t stay on his for long before you’re looking away from him again. “I’m…I’m really sorry, that was really awkward,” you say with a forced laugh and an attempt to wiggle yourself free of his grip but he’s unrelenting. The image of his fingers sliding up that girl’s top was still burned in your vision and no amount of excessive blinking at the carpet beneath your feet seemed to make it disappear. 
“No, I’m sorry, I was supposed to lock…” his trails off and you notice there’s a rough quality to his voice, “that was just-, we were just-”
You finally brave yourself to look up at him and he somehow seems closer than before, his face just inches away from yours and his eyes briefly flickering to your lips before he meets your gaze with a tense expression on his face. You haven’t seen him look so flustered before, and you’ve certainly never heard him struggle this much to find his words either. 
His other hand rubs the back of his neck as he closes his eyes in what looks like frustration, then takes a deep breath to seemingly calm himself down before speaking again. “She’s…We’re just friends,” is all he manages to say. 
There’s a silence between the two of you as you blink at him and he stares at you, his thumb pressing into the skin of where his hand was still wrapped around your wrist. You try really hard to bite back the words you’re about to say, but no amount of willpower could’ve helped you. Your chin tips up, looking at him more decisively, and his gaze is flickering to your mouth again. “Just friends…can’t say I’ve ever tried to get my friends naked in the bathroom at a party before.” You didn’t understand why your tone came off so hostile, but it felt good to criticize his choice of words for some reason.
His lips press together, gaze narrowing slightly and eyebrows furrowing further at your words. He leans in closer to the point where your senses were entirely occupied by him and it was impossible to think of anything else. “Well, you weren’t supposed to see that.” His eyes are contrite but his tone is vexed. 
You relax your body language and use your other hand to forcefully slide his hand off of your wrist, encountering some resistance from him before he acquiesces. Your skin tingles from the absence of his touch and you take a step backwards away from him. His posture straightens slightly, eyes continuing to dart across the features of your face and wide in anticipation as though he was patiently waiting for you to say something that would put him at ease. 
“It’s fine,” you say, trying your best to keep your voice as level as possible, “I accidentally walked in on something I shouldn’t have. You don’t owe me any sort of explanation for it.” Gojo seems to tense up even further at your words, his expression briefly contorting into one of confusion before it reverts to concern again. 
You walk around him towards the bedroom door and see him in your periphery watching every step you take until you eventually exit the room. This time, you don’t hear his footsteps pursuing you from behind. It’s only when you make it past the bathroom, not even daring to take a look inside of it, and about halfway down the hallway that you unsteadily let out the breath you were holding in. Your hand takes its place over your chest in a flimsy attempt to calm your heart down as you quickly make your way down the stairs. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach and you knew you just had to get as far away from here as possible. 
You’re barely able to spot Mina from where she stood with Todo in a corner near the backyard screen door, and briefly notice that Nanami, Geto, as well as a few of their other teammates were clustered there too. You politely acknowledge their pleasant greetings to you as you approach Mina, pulling her to the side.
“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” She asks, stumbling a little bit and you let go of her sleeve. 
“I’m going to go home, not feeling well, I think I just got my period,” you easily come up with a lie, “Nobara says she’ll pick me up.” In truth, you were planning on just calling an Uber for home, but you knew that Mina wouldn’t let you go home by yourself. You didn’t want your confusing and heightened emotions ruining her night.
“Wait, are you sure? I’ll come with you,” she’s quick to say, taking a step towards you but you shake your head.
“No, it’s fine, stay here with Todo,” you demand, “and call me if you need me to pick you up. I’ll let you know when I’m home.” You give her a little hug and she’s standing there confused before hesitantly nodding, and then you make your way to the door. The loud music, flashing lights, and blurred faces around you were so intensely stimulating that when the cold air from outside finally hit your skin, you felt like you were human again. 
The Uber comes by in less than ten minutes as you wait for it on the sidewalk. The driver drops you off at the entrance of your apartment complex and the biting chill of the air has you wrapping your arms around yourself as you wait for the elevator to take you upstairs. Glancing down at your phone to check the time, you see a message from Mina asking if you were home yet. You also see that it’s nearly one in the morning.
Finally making your way inside your apartment, you lock the door behind you and text Mina that you’re home, then slide down with your back against the front door until you’re sitting on the floor. The heat inside was so comforting that you just spent a moment to warm yourself up and just breathe. 
Memories of your conversation with Gojo from just half an hour ago instantly come to the forefront of your mind and you’re shutting your eyes to try and repel the thoughts away. Still so embarrassed that you walked in on him making out with someone, your brain decides to mortify you even further by asking what if you had walked in a few moments later instead? What would you have seen then? 
You squish your cheeks between your hands defeatedly before letting out a sigh and drawing your legs in towards you, hugging your knees to your chest. You didn’t understand why you were so affected by what you saw. You’ve only met Gojo twice, and you knew even before you met him that he was that kind of person. He had a reputation of being involved with a lot of women, so his rather eager desire to explain himself to you just puzzled you even further. 
Standing up, you head over to your bed and flop down on it. Your wrist still burns with the memory of the heat of his hand, and all you can see behind the lids of your eyes when you close them is the sight of him so close to you, stealing glances at your lips. 
Somewhere along the night as you drifted in and out of sleep, Mina called to let you know that she was on her way home. When you hear her open the bedroom door and set her purse down on the nightstand near her bed, your body finally convinces you that it’s okay to rest, and that’s exactly what you do.
---
The weekend is over in the blink of an eye, simply not enough time to mope around in bed, and you’re walking out of your last class of the day on Monday. You check your phone pretty much every other minute to see if Gojo has sent you any messages regarding their new practice schedule for the week, which you’re sure he’s received by now, but there’s nothing. The last messages sent between the two of you were before the party on Friday, and an uneasy feeling has been settling in. You spent most of last week appreciating how helpful he was being so far, but you didn’t even consider the possibility that he could rescind his help at any time too.
You head over to the Department of Communication & Journalism building, making your way up the stairs until you reach the graduate division floor and walk down the hallway to Room 212. As you make your entry, a toasty and rich scent overtakes your senses. 
“Ah, y/n, hello! So good to see you, thanks for coming by. I missed seeing you last week,” you hear Utahime say as she sets down a cup of coffee for you on the conference table in the middle of the room.
“Sorry, I was just…very mentally occupied last week,”  you admit to her, setting your tote bag down on one of the chairs before taking the seat where the cup of coffee was placed, the fragrance instantly waking you up as you take a sip. “Thank you. How have you been?”
“I’ve been well, thank you, just working through my thesis,” she says with a sigh and takes the seat next to you. “Just a few more months…just a few more months, and I’m free!”
You smile at her and watch as she pulls out her laptop, the start-up noise chiming before she starts clicking away at the million tabs that were open. “Did you receive the email I sent you for the newsletter shots?” You ask.
Utahime was a 4th-year graduate student in journalism and was also the head of the school’s newsletter. She has so graciously allowed for Film Club photography shout-outs in every monthly issue for the past couple of years.
She nods. “I did,” she says, resting her elbow on the table and tapping her index finger to her chin, “how come I didn’t see any of your photos in there, though?”
You sigh, sulking your shoulders slightly as you peer down into the brown liquid of your cup and watch the steam evaporate. “I didn’t really take great pictures this month.”
“Aw, well are you working on anything right now?” She returns to clicking away at tabs.
“Yeah, I’ll be taking film photos out on the field of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni next week. It’s for an assignment,” you tell her and watch as her face lights up.
“That’s wonderful! That’s a pretty big gig, they usually only let professionals out on the field. How were you able to secure that?” Utahime asks you as she tips her head to the side.
“Ah…let’s just say I have some sort of deal with one of their players?” You say. Your heart drops a little when you remember the lack of communication from Gojo as of recently, wondering if he was able to get that referee permission for you.
“Which one?” Utahime asks with a teasing smile, leaning over to nudge you with her elbow.
“Gojo Satoru,” you say and then she’s pulling away from you and rolling her eyes, an annoyed look making its way onto her face. You let out a small laugh at her behavior. “Okay, well now I’m curious.”
She lets out an exasperated sigh as she peers beyond the window of the room. “I was his TA when he was just a wee-little freshman. He was always showing up late to class and trying to flirt his way out of completing assignments,” she grumbles, “is he still a little brat?”
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking way harder about her question than she had probably intended. “I don’t know…I don’t really know him all that well.” You look down at your hands. Despite the fact that you’ve only known Gojo for a short while, for some reason you felt like you did know him well. You knew the kinds of things that made him smile, you knew the look in his eyes when he was deep in thought about something. You knew what the heat from his body felt like, what the fragrance of his clothes smelled like. 
Utahime is silent for a moment as she studies you. “Hmm,” she’s humming next to you, “well, tell you what, send me your photos when you’re done with them. If they���re good, I’ll use your photos for the sports recap in the newsletter instead of the professional ones we get sent from the school. I can compensate you for them as well.”
Your eyes widen as you look at her, jaw dropping a bit as you blink in disbelief. “Utahime…you would do that for me?”
She gives you a smile and a wink. “Of course, talent helps talent. And it’s my newsletter, I can do whatever I want with it. Besides, you want to get into the school’s film graduate program, right? I’m sure it would look great on your application that you’ve had some of your portfolio published to the school’s official reports. The photos have to be good, though.” She points a finger at you and gives you a strict look.
You feel tears prickle in your eyes from her words, so overwhelmingly grateful for her support, and can barely whisper out a thank you before she’s rushing over to the other table to grab a tissue box and set it in front of you.
“Gosh, why do all my undergrads cry in my presence?” she complains as she pulls out a tissue and hands it to you.
You dab it to your eye. “Because you have such wholesome mom energy.” 
You say goodbye to Utahime after discussing a few more things and then leave the room. You check your phone and your heart skips a beat when you see Gojo’s name in your notifications.
|| 1:43PM Gojo Satoru: Hey, just wanted to let you know I was able to get that referee permission for you for next week
You let out a tiny gasp when you read his words then clutch your phone to your chest in relief. Utahime’s offer of the prospect of getting published in the school’s newsletter gave you a large sense of purpose, and you felt like it was time to take this assignment of yours extremely seriously to secure the opportunity. And Gojo was the one with the power to help you do that.
|| 1:52PM You: thank you so much, i really don’t know how to repay you
You sigh as you make your way to the stairs, grateful that you were getting some communication from him. The big game on the 28th was next Thursday, and you really needed to practice taking photos with your film camera. You open Instagram again to ask him for his practice schedule, but you see that he had sent you another message.
|| 1:54PM Gojo Satoru: No need to repay me, consider us even. Also sorry for the late notice, but we’re having a formal practice match in about an hour with one of the teams we played against earlier in the season. Do you want to come by?
After reading his message, you quickly shuffle your tote bag open and peer inside to see that you did indeed bring your film camera with you to campus today. Excited, you type out a response.
|| 1:55PM You: yes! i’ll hesd over right now
|| 1:55PM You: *head over
|| 1:55PM You: lol
You see little bubbles indicating typing in the left side corner.
|| 1:55PM Gojo Satoru: Meet me by the art sculpture, I’ll walk you over
You blink at the message for a few seconds, starting to type out a message before deleting it, and doing that a couple more times over. When someone tries to shuffle around you from behind, you notice you were standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs so you step away and lean against the wall. You press your lips together in consideration as you realize that today would be the first time you’re going to see Gojo again after that awkward interaction that you had with him at the party last Friday, and you were really not sure how you were going to feel having to be alone with him again.
|| 1:57PM You: that’s okay, i don’t want to trouble you
His response is instant.
|| 1:57PM Gojo Satoru: Just meet me there
Once you’ve made your way across campus, you spot Gojo sitting on the concrete barrier surrounding the art sculpture by the fields practically right in front of the please do not sit on the concrete barrier sign. His head is turned away from the direction you were approaching from, arms crossed at his chest and one of his legs impatiently bouncing up and down. You notice he’s wearing the school’s colors, a teal blue shirt and gray shorts that had some highlights of a sunset yellow, as well as gray athletic soccer shin socks and cleats. He looks so ridiculously sports boyfriend that you have to shake your head to try and physically fight the effect of how attracted you were to him.
He must’ve heard you approaching as you crossed the street towards him since he turned his head in your direction. He’s wearing a black sports headband across his forehead that’s pushing the hair up out of his face and you’re startled by the intensity of his blue eyes on you. When he stands up, his arms fall to his side, making you sad that you could no longer shamelessly stare at the way his biceps flexed when he had his arms crossed.
“Hey,” he says simply, staying perfectly still where he stood. 
There was only one way to dissolve an awkward situation, and that was to pretend like it never happened in the first place. You tip your head to the side, giving him a curious look before skipping right on up to him. “Hello, there,” you cheerfully say. He looks at you with a borderline annoyed expression.
“You’re in a good mood today,” he comments, his voice sounding deeper than usual. Almost tired. 
“Yes, very good mood,” you chirp as you walk past him, “I just got a very good offer.”
The sound of the bottom of his cleats on the sidewalk follow after you as you head in the direction of the softball batting cages. It's not long before he emerges at your side in your periphery. “What kind of offer?” You can tell from his tone that he was trying to restrain his curiosity. 
“Oh, you’ll see,” you say as you look up at him and smile. He gives you an irritated expression due to your lack of transparency but you continue to skip forward until you’ve made it to stairs that lead up to the grassy hills. 
Gojo’s about a step’s distance behind you as you lightly frolic across the land, your heavy tote bag bumping against your hip with every jump. You feel something fly out of it which halts you in your gleeful stride and look behind to where your bluetooth laptop mouse has fallen onto the grass right in front of Gojo. He’s sighing before crouching down to pick it up, then takes a step towards you and extends it out to you. When you glance up at him, he’s not looking at you and his face is hard to read. 
You grab the mouse from him, fingertips brushing against the skin of his palm, and he ever-so-slightly shivers at the touch. His gaze finally meets yours.
With a sigh, you toss your computer mouse back into your bag. “I’m trying really hard to not feel awkward around you right now, but you’re making it pretty difficult.” You were so used to feeling like he has the upper edge of conversation when you’re with him, but now you felt like you were the one with the power.
He raises an eyebrow at you and when you look at his hands, you notice he was apprehensively cracking his knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe you wouldn’t feel awkward if you actually stayed to talk last Friday.”
You cross your arms across your chest, disliking his tone. “Stayed to talk? About what? How not close you are with your ‘friends’?” 
He tips his head up to the sky and closes his eyes, his brow furrowing like he was entirely frustrated by you, before he looks back down at you again. “If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine, but what’s with you always running away whenever I try to talk to you?”
“I wasn’t feeling well that night,” you mumble to him as you turn away and continue to walk towards the practice field. It was the truth, you weren’t feeling well that night, and it was because seeing him kissing another girl made your stomach drop to the core of the Earth. But that wasn’t something you were going to admit to him. It wasn’t even something you were ready to admit to yourself. “Also, it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t care to believe you.”
“But why don’t you care?” he’s asking you, his voice sounding desperate now as he makes his way to your side again. He’s looking at you but you’re looking straight ahead.
You roll your eyes, continuing to march forwards. “Not everyone cares about your love life, Satoru. Contrary to what you might think.”
He jogs ahead a few steps, now walking backwards in front of you and you narrow your eyes at him. His tongue is poking at the inside of his cheek and then there’s a boyish grin on his face. “Say that again.”
“Say what again?” you ask.
“My name,” he says. 
You almost roll your eyes out of your head when you see his amused expression. “I seriously can’t believe this right now,” you’re muttering under your breath and walk past him down the large hill leading to the practice field, his gaze on you burning through your skin until you’re rubbing at your cheek with the back of your hand in a feeble attempt to physically wipe the blush away.
The practice field was much more crowded and busy than it was during the first practice you went to last week. Looking across to the other side, you see a group of men huddled near one of the benches, all of them wearing maroon-colored shirts with black shorts that have gold stripes running down the side of them. None of them were wearing jerseys, but you assumed they were wearing their school colors as some sort of distinguishing clothing that would help them during the practice match. 
“Satoru! Where the hell have you been?” You flinch upon hearing Coach Yaga’s stern voice nearby and you look over to where he had his arms crossed and glaring at Gojo through his thick sunglasses.
Gojo walks past you towards the benches and gives Coach Yaga a salute. “Sorry, sir, personal business.” He then makes his way over to the rest of his teammates that were huddled on this side of the field. There were a few tables located on the sidelines that had refillable water stations, bottles of Gatorade, towels and all sorts of other athletic gear. You walk up to one of the tables and fix the settings on your film camera before taking a snapshot of the items laid out on it. 
The atmosphere is light since this wasn’t an official match and so you spend some time fidgeting with your camera before they get started. You can only imagine how tense it must be during a proper tournament game at the actual stadium off-campus, the thought of thousands of people spectating from stands sending a shiver down your spine. Athletes were of a whole different breed, despite how wholesome and down-to-earth most of the UTokyo soccer players you’ve met so far were.
Eventually, Coach Yaga and the other coach from the opposing school blow their whistles, both acting as referees for the match, and the players scatter themselves across the field. You notice Gojo is at the center of the circle in the middle, his foot on top of the ball as he scans his eyes across the field to each of the players with a focused look in his eyes. He draws his foot back, and just when you think he’s about to kick it forwards to where he was looking, the back of his heel makes contact with the ball instead and it’s sent swiftly behind him towards Geto. Instantly, all the players begin to move across the field, some of the offensive opposing side charging towards Geto as he shuffles the ball between his feet before kicking it way ahead of him to another one of their teammates. You bring your camera up to your face and take a snapshot when one of the opposing team’s defenders makes an attempt to steal the ball. 
The play continues further, both teams playing a push-and-pull with the ball. Gojo makes an attempt at a goal before the opposing team’s goalie lunges for the ball that was flying in the air straight towards the net, catching it in his arms and then crashing down onto the ground. Somewhere along the intense match, the coaches call half-time and you’re shocked by how fast the first half went by. 
Some of the players retreat to the benches to quench their thirst and wipe the perspiration off their faces with their towels, while others remain on the green expanse to pace around while catching their breath. Your attention is drawn to Gojo who stood at the center with his hands on his hips and breathing visibly heavily. He leisurely shuffles the ball between his feet with an innate rhythm before passing it off towards Geto who stood a few feet away from him. Gojo pulled his headband off of his face, his hair falling over his forehead onto the sheen layer of sweat above his eyes. With each breath, his chest rises and falls, lips parted in a display of exertion, and then he grabs at the hem of his shirt to lift it to his face, exposing his toned torso, as he wipes away the sweat at his temples. Your eyes widen at the sight, almost entranced as a wave of arousal suddenly consumes you, before he releases his grip on the fabric and it falls back down. He pushes his hair back up out of his face with one of his hands, the other securing the headband back onto his forehead with a snap, and the muscles of his arms tense fluidly with every motion. 
You quickly look away from him, afraid he'll catch you staring, and blink at the grass as you notice the fast beating of your heart. Coach Yaga's whistle blows, causing you to look back up again. Players were making their way back onto the field and Gojo found his position at the center again. His eyes darted across the field, making their way onto the faces of each player, and then they eventually landed on you. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly into a small smile before he's looking back down at the ball by his feet. And then they start the kickoff.
UTokyo ends up winning 3-1, and by the end of the match the sun is starting to set, painting the sky beautiful hues of purple and orange. You lean over to pick your things up off the grass as the players make their final retreat to the benches, and you gently place your film camera back into its case when Gojo’s voice next to you makes you jump.
“Hey. Please don’t run off,” he says. When you turned to look at him, he was still breathing a bit fast and he had a flushed, almost serene, look across his face. “Give me your phone.” He extends his open palm out to you. 
“My phone?” You ask him, reaching for where it was located in your back pocket and pulling it out. He nods without any further explanation. You place it in his palm and he’s tapping away at it before handing it back to you. When you look down, you notice he gave a random number a call.
“That’s my number. Save it,” he says. You blink at him. His expression is soft for a moment and then he’s turning around and away from you, heading over to where his teammates were crowded around one of the tables and giving each other pats on the back.
You tip your head to the side to watch him as a couple of his teammates sling their arm around his neck and smack his chest, masculine laughter and jokes filling the air. You can’t help but smile before you pick up your things and start making your way up the hill away from the field, back towards the heart of campus. 
---
The following days of the week where you don’t see Gojo play soccer seems like a waste, because why weren’t you spending every single day of your life watching him play soccer? You sigh to yourself at the question as you use clothing pins to hang up the film photos you took up onto a wall in your school’s photo lab. You finished developing the photos from Monday’s practice match, only to realize that you accidentally took them on one of your black-and-white rolls instead of full-color. You step back to take a look at all the images you had clipped onto the string pinned to the walls, snapping a shot of the collage with your phone, before pulling them all back down and stuffing them into a Manila folder. 
The only time the photo lab wasn’t bustling with other film & photography majors was usually after sunset, but by the time you finished having dinner with one of your friends on campus, you had made it there around 7PM. By the time you leave and make it to your parked car, it’s pitch black outside. As you step inside your car and turn the key to ignite the engine, the windshield wipers automatically swiping as the control lights inside come to life, the clock on your dashboard reads 10:37PM. 
The GPS for some reason prompts you to take an alternative route back to your apartment that avoids the freeway in an attempt to save you from twenty minutes of traffic, and you consider what to do for a moment before the exhaustion in your bones convinces you to take the allegedly faster way home.
As you begin to head in the unfamiliar direction, the excitement you had to make it home as soon as possible slowly starts to dwindle more and more as the streets morph from well-lit and bustling with people to dark and surrounded by trees instead. What used to be a three-lane street turned into one, and you count the seconds between every passing car you see coming by in the opposite direction. You’re worried when your counting makes it past sixty seconds. 
You turn your music up in your car to distract yourself from the fear of driving down the secluded and dark road. There was a slight fog settling up ahead in front of you to where you could only see clearly about thirty feet ahead. You spot something on the road, blinking rapidly to focus your vision, and then your eyes widen when you realize what it was. Rocks.
You’re instantly swerving your car to the side, attempting to deftly avoid the scattered rocks but unfortunately you drive over a few of them, causing your tire to pop and you let out a scream when you lose handle on your car. One of the rocks flies up and hits your windshield, cracking the glass, and suddenly you’re driving up over the curb to the right before you finally regain control of your car and swerve back onto the road, slamming on the brakes.
Your heart is beating fast in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your body, and you grip onto the steering wheel while you try to regain your breath. Your windshield had a large crack in it, large enough to where the cold air from outside was whistling its way inside your car, and you were slanted in your seat due to the punctured tire at the front. As you took deep breaths, you noticed how alone you were on a dimly lit street where you hadn’t seen a single car in more than five minutes, fear and anxiety surging through your body. Your hands reach for your phone, shakily turning it on and exhaling in relief when you see that you have reception, then call the emergency telephone line.
“Hello, how can we help you?” a feminine voice on the other end of the line says.
“Hi, um,” you say, voice sounding shaky, “I just got a flat tire on Musashi road, about five miles from the Main Street intersection. I don’t have a spare on me, and my windshield is cracked too…could you send roadside assistance?”
“Yes, absolutely,” the woman says kindly and begins to take down some information from you. “Thank you, ma’am. Unfortunately, there has been a big accident on the freeway, so many of the tow-trucks and officers have been dispatched to that area. It may take about an hour for help to arrive. Are you able to call someone to come stay with you as you wait?”
“Oh…” You press your lips together in thought. “Yes, I should be able to.” After working out a bit more logistics with the woman on the other line, you hang up and then you’re scrolling through your contacts. You first call Mina’s line, which goes straight to voicemail, and then you remember that she was out of town for tonight and half of tomorrow visiting her family. You call Nobara, who also doesn’t pick up, and then a couple of your other friends who go straight to voicemail as well. You start to panic slightly before calling your friend Maki who lives two hours away.
“Hello?” You hear her voice say when she picks up.
“Maki! Oh my gosh, thank you for picking up,” you say to her through the phone, your hand on your chest as you sigh. You explain your situation to her and she’s instantly providing you with soothing words. 
“Is there no one that can come stay with you? I feel awful that I’m so far away,” she says.
“It’s okay, they said that help will be here in maybe fifty minutes now…I just really wanted to talk to someone,” you say, peering out into the darkness of the night. You’re still shocked you haven’t seen a single car drive by in the past ten minutes. You pull your phone from your face to check the time and see a notification on your phone that says 5% battery remaining. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Maki asks worriedly.
“My phone is running out of battery…” you say with a defeated tone. Your anxiety starts to rise in your chest again. “I don’t know if I can stay on the line.” You scroll through your contacts again, finger halting the screen when your eyes land on another name. “I…I think I have someone else I can try calling.”
“Good, try that. I don’t want you to be stuck out there with a dead phone and a flat tire. Let me know if this person doesn’t pick up, okay?” She’s saying to you and you send her your location before hanging up.
You’re breathing heavily from fear when a particularly harsh gust of wind pushes more cold air through the crack of your windshield. Pulling your phone from your face, you click on the name in your contacts and bring your phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost a third time before you hear a click and then a voice.
“Y/n?” Gojo’s voice calls out, sounding surprised. 
Hearing his voice immediately causes a wave of relief to wash over you and you lay back in your seat, having to muffle the abrupt sob that threatens to erupt from the tightness in your throat. “Hi,” you whisper.
“Hey, is everything okay?” he asks. 
“Mm…no,” you admit to him, sniffling slightly and swiping at the stray tear that rolls down your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’m just a bit scared right now.” Your voice cracks towards the end of your sentence and you silently berate yourself for not mustering enough emotional strength at the moment. 
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice starting to sound uneasy. 
“I was driving down this road, it was dark, I couldn’t really see much…but I ended up driving over these rocks and my tire punctured. I called for roadside assistance and they said it would take about an hour for help to arrive,” you ramble, “I tried calling Mina, and some of my other friends to come and wait with me, but-” You run out of breath to finish your sentence and you’re sniffling again. 
“Send me your location, I’m heading over right now,” he says and you hear what sounds like keys jingling in the background along with some other shuffling noises, “can you stay on the line?”
You pull your phone from your ear and see that you’re at 3% now before sending him your location. “No…my phone is running out of battery.” 
He’s silent for a second on the other end. “It says I’ll be there in twelve minutes. Just…hang tight, okay? Make sure your doors are locked.” 
You nod before remembering that he can’t see you, so you say I will. He’s hesitant to hang up on you but when your phone flashes from 3% to 2%, you tell him you don’t have much of a choice and then he’s giving you another word of caution before reluctantly hanging up. You’re all alone to your thoughts in your car again, shaking from the anxiety and blinking tears away. 
The twelve-minute wait felt so long, and eventually Gojo texts you that he’s one minute away when your phone is at 1% battery. You see headlights approaching behind your car in your rearview mirror, the first sight of another human being you’ve seen in probably the past thirty minutes stepping out of the driver’s seat and you immediately recognize his silhouette. He walks up to the passenger side door and tips his head down so he’s visible through the window. At the sight of him, you finally release the breath you were holding in before opening your car door and stepping outside. You both look at each other across the top of your car and you notice him letting out a deep breath of his own as his shoulders relax at the sight of you. 
He makes his way wordlessly around the front of your car to you and he’s studying your face intently. You look away from him when you realize he could probably tell that your eyes were puffy and that you had been crying. From your periphery, you see the back of his hand reach out when he’s right in front of you, hesitating slightly before it briefly brushes against your cheek, dabbing at a tear that you must’ve missed. His hand is warm against your skin and the sudden desire to hug him consumes every single fiber of your being, but when you look up at him, the soft expression on his face renders you still. 
“Thank you for coming,” you’re whispering to him.
He lets out a short comical exhale through his nose. “I wasn’t going to not come. What kind of person do you think I am?”
You shiver as another gust of wind passes through, crossing your arms across yourself. Gojo slips the jacket he was wearing off, revealing a beige sweater underneath, and then he’s circling around you to place it over your back. It’s cozy and it smells like him.
You’re about to voice your concern for him but his voice behind you cuts you off. “I run warm, don’t worry.” 
He walks around to the front of your car, bending over to the side to assess the flat tire at the front, his hands shoved into his pockets. You pull his jacket around you tighter. “Damn, the tread on your tires is horrendous. No wonder. You should really check on them more often.” He straightens himself up and peers at the crack across your windshield. “And that’s definitely not gonna be cheap to fix.”
You sigh in annoyance, his casual tone causing your eye to twitch slightly, but when you noticed your heart was calm and your breathing was normal again, you looked at him with the realization that him just being here managed to soothe you. 
He looks back over at you with a considerate expression. “Do you want to sit in my car? It’s chilly out here.”
You press your lips together before shaking your head. “I feel like I need the fresh air.”
Gojo’s walking over to the patch of grass on the pavement at the side of the road and sits down on the curb. He pats the spot next to him with an awaiting look on his face and you make your way to him, sitting to his left. He looks down at the distance you’ve put between the two of you, almost three feet, and he’s sighing before scootching closer to you. “Don’t be greedy with your body heat. I said I run warm, not that I’m a furnace.”
His shoulder brushes against yours and his knee bumps against your thigh as he gets comfortable. You bring your legs closer to you and wrap your arms around them, resting your chin on top of your knee. Gojo was leaning back onto his outstretched arms behind him, legs extended in front as he tipped his head back up to look at the sky. You look over at him. His gaze slowly shifts from one point in the sky to the other, and you wonder what he’s mapping with his eyes. 
“Thank you for getting the referee permission for me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him in person. “I’m excited to take photos out on the field next week.”
“Sure thing, my freaky little photographer. I’m sure you are,” he chimes. 
You stick your bottom lip out in an annoyed pout. “So, we’re even now.”
He looks over at you and smiles. His blue eyes were a bit darker underneath the starry sky with less light to reflect off of them, and the quality made them look gentle. “No, you’ve gotta make sure Mina stays interested in Todo.” 
You can tell he’s just joking, but you respond as if he’s serious anyways. “That was never part of the agreement,” you say, “besides, I don’t really think that’s necessary. She seems to be pretty taken with him already.”
He laughs. “And you’re not worried about that?”
“What’s there to worry about?” You ask.
“I don’t know, the fact they hit it off so fast?” He shrugs and you feel the friction of the movement against your shoulder.
“Hmm, no. Mina’s a smart girl, she’s good at sniffing out those red flags,” you say assuredly before lifting a suspicious eyebrow at him, “should I be worried? He's your friend. Enlighten me.”
Gojo shakes his head musingly at your concern. “Todo’s a good guy,” he says in a soft voice.
“He’s not on the soccer team, right? I didn’t see him the past couple of times I was on the field,” you say with realization.
“Nah, he’s just a mad lad I met in my freshman year econ class. We’ve been friends ever since,” he says, swaying his knee from side to side. “He’s the one that got me to join the frat.”
You two are silent for a moment, listening to the noise of the wind through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. The previous anxiety you had from the night completely dissipated into peacefulness instead, and the man beside you was responsible for that shift. 
“Can you tell me what that offer was that you were so excited about earlier this week?” he asks.
You look up to the sky briefly, trying to remember what he was talking about. “Oh. I might be able to publish the photos I take of the game next week to the sports recap in the school newsletter,” you say.
He turns his head to look at you, eyes widened. “Woah, seriously? That’s so cool. Can you make sure I look hot?”
You roll your eyes and go back to resting your chin on your knees. “Sure.” 
A comfortable silence settles before he’s speaking again. “What inspired you to be a film photographer?” He’s turning his body so he’s facing you a bit more directly. 
“Well, the end goal is film movie making…but my professor says that it’s important to understand the art of film photography before that,” you say, twiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “He says that ‘if a filmmaker cannot master the single frame shot, then how can they possibly put together a film composed of a million of them’?” 
Gojo is humming beside you and nodding in agreement. He turns away from you to face forward again and he starts tapping his foot on the pavement of the road. “Huh. That’s kind of similar to something coach says during drills.” 
You glance over at him, a little surprised. He continues to stare forward with a somewhat innocent expression on his face, and then you can practically see the moment another question pops up into his head. 
“Why don’t you make your Instagram public? Your photos would probably get a lot more views or likes that way,” he says in an excited tone, like he’s cracked some code. 
You let out a small laugh and bury your face into your knees, your voice sounding muffled when you speak. “I did have it public for a while. Until a troll spammed a bunch of hate comments on my posts and I quickly switched it to private after that.” Saying it out loud, you felt a bit silly. You’re apprehensive as you say the next few words. “I guess I’m scared that I’m not good enough to be acknowledged or successful, and that somehow other people will see that truth before I can.”
“Oh come on, y/n,” he’s saying beside you, gently nudging your arm with his elbow. The contact causes your breath to catch in your throat. “You just have to go for it. You can’t accomplish anything if you don’t face your fears.” When you watch those words leave his mouth, you notice he now has a thoughtful expression as he stares ahead to the other side of the road.
Another beat of silence goes by. “Why did you start playing soccer?” you ask.
He’s quiet for a long time as he blinks, to the point where you’re unsure if he even heard your question, but then he finally answers. “My dad used to play in college. He introduced me to the sport when I was younger and I fell in love with it.” Your perk up slightly and tip your head to the side in curiosity. He’s looking down at his lap now.
“That’s really wonderful, Satoru. Was he also center forward in college?” When you ask him this, you don’t miss the way his eyebrows pinch together for a split second before his expression relaxes again. 
“Yeah, he was,” he responds, “he got injured in his last year, though. Never got to play after that.” There’s an inflection at the end of his sentence that makes you think he’s about to say more but he doesn’t. 
Your face softens when you see him stare down at the curb with a slightly troubled expression. In a moment of tenacity, you place your hand on his thigh and his eyes widen when he sees the movement before he’s looking over at you.
“I’m sure he’s really proud of you,” you say softly, your hand reaching up to brush a few strands of his hair away from his eyes. Both of you are shocked at the intimate gesture and you’re quick to withdraw your hand. 
Your faces are close, his side still pressed against yours, and neither of you break eye contact. You take a moment to study the handsome features of his face and your heart aches a little. The cold air has you licking your lips and Gojo’s eyes dart to them, gaze lingering, and you blink slowly when he leans forward slightly. Blue eyes find yours again and he stills himself, searching your face for something, and when he doesn’t see it he continues to lean forward and you lean towards him too. And then his lips press against yours, so chaste and so light that it’s possible you could have imagined it, but just when you feel his warm hand cup your face and he’s about to deepen the kiss, a loud honking noise startles the two of you and you both jump, pulling away from one another. You see Gojo’s face illuminated with bright golden lighting as he winces and holds up one of his hands in front of his face to shield himself from being blinded by it. 
You turn your head to the left towards the source of the light and see a tow truck approaching. “Hey! Is this the flat and windshield crack?” you hear the driver shout out from where his head was stuck out the window.
You’re speechless, cheeks feeling flushed from the realization that Gojo had just kissed you, and you turn to look at him. He silently stands up with a weary exhale and a calm expression on his face and then shoves his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, it is.” He makes his way over to the tow truck and you hear him make conversation with the driver as well as the man in the passenger seat. You’re still sitting stunned on the curb, bringing your fingers up to gently touch your lips that were still searing from earlier. Gojo’s suddenly standing in front of you and you’re staring at his legs before you tip your head back up to look at him.
“Do you have any valuables in your car?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of your car.
“Ah…my phone and my tote bag,” you say. He crouches down in front of you, earnest eyes level with yours, and his hand reaches into the pocket of his jacket where you had stashed your keys. He removes only your car key from the ring, handing the set of other keys back to you, and then he’s unlocking your car to get your stuff out of it.
You remain on the curb, watching as Gojo handles the entire interaction with the tow truck helpers. When they’ve successfully anchored your car to the tow truck and one of the men comes around to shake Gojo’s hand, you see him reach into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing the man some cash. You stand up in a bit of a panic and head over. 
The tow truck is already pulling away with your car from the curb when you make it in front of Gojo. He hands you a business card with the towing company information on it and then looks down at you with a mild demeanor, letting out a long exhale. “Ready to go home? You’ve had a long night.”
Exhaustion suddenly consumes your entire being and you hesitantly nod. 
The interior of Gojo’s car is nice. It’s clean, smells like him and pine, with nice leather seats that have warmers. You’re still wearing his jacket, clenching it tightly around you, as he inputs your apartment address into his GPS and starts to drive you home.
Neither of you say a word to one another during the ride. You watch his hand tighten its grip at the top of the steering wheel occasionally as he drives. He turns his car into the entrance of your apartment complex and parks in the loading zone. You watch as he makes his way out of the car to the passenger side door, opening it for you. You step outside and thank him.
“It’s okay, I’ll head inside from here,” you say, already feeling like you’ve caused him enough trouble. You abruptly remember that Mina isn’t home and the realization that you’ll be all alone tonight creates a hollow feeling in your chest.
He raises an eyebrow at you. “Come on,” he says, walking past you to make his way to the elevator and pressing the up button. It dings before immediately opening and he walks inside like he’s the one that lives here. He places a hand out to hold the door sensors when he sees that you don’t follow him inside. You jump out of the mild trance you were in and quickly rush in before he withdraws his hand and the elevator door shuts. 
“Which floor?” He asks, finger hovering over the control pad. You tell him three. 
Once you reach the third floor, you step out into the hallway and he follows suit. Your apartment was just seven units down towards the right and the two of you eventually made it to the door. You turn around to look up at him. His expression becomes slightly distressed and when you don’t say anything to him, he shoves his hands further into his pockets and sways back and forth slightly. 
“Alright, mission accomplished, I got you home,” he says with a forced jovial tone, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. You notice he does that when he seems nervous about something.
Your mind recalls the kiss from earlier, the feeling of Gojo’s lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed up against you in the cold, the tender way his hand held your face still so he could have more of you, only for it to be cut short. Your heart is beating fast in your chest and your cheeks flush with warmth. He’s looking down at you intently and you’re looking up at him pensively. 
You didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Not yet.
Your hands reach into your tote bag to pull out the keys to your apartment. “Yes, home.” He watches you jingle the metal in your hands. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he says and he takes a step back. Turning around, you push your key into the keyhole with shaking hands, turning it, and open the door to your apartment, letting yourself inside. You look at him from the entryway with the door still ajar. 
“Good night, take it easy,” he says to you.
“Thanks, you too.” And then he’s out of your sight as you shut the door.
You lean back against the front door, letting out a sigh and biting down on your lip, the thumping of your heart pertinent throughout your entire body. There was a lingering truth to all of the emotions that you’ve been having recently. It followed you in the early hours of the morning, it followed you as you tried to fall asleep at night, it was present in the silence, lurking in the dark, and it was there with you tonight for every second that he was by your side.
You had feelings for Gojo Satoru. 
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a/n. thanks sooo much for reading and i hope you enjoyed aaa idk this week felt off for my writing for some reason but i heavily edited it so i hope it came out okay in the end.
➸ take me to chapter six!
tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru
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sugarlywhispers · 2 months
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a.n; SMUT, oral sex (fem receiving), izuku is pussy-drunk because we know no other izuku than the one who LOVES eating pussy. lol i had an izuku itch that needed to be scratched so here it is *wink wink*<3
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You and Midoriya Izuku have been friends for a long time now. He's such a good friend, always attentive, kind, funny and respectful. Yet he becomes cheeky, flirty and sometimes sarcastic when there's more trust in your friendship.
Friendship. It's just friendship. You have to remind yourself of that everyday. Push your stupid little –strenuously huge– crush on him very deep inside and lock it away. He's fucking Number One, Pro Hero Deku. How could you not have a fucking crush on him?
Still, when he gave you the opportunity to be friends, you didn't doubt it. You dug your feelings very deep and just accepted what he gave you; a funny, sincere friendship that you honestly didn't want to ruin. Especially because Izuku was also very intentional in watering this friendship with you.
It got to a point where you even slept in each other's places with complete normalcy sometimes. He had clothes in your closet for when that happened, and vice-versa. Izuku even talked to you about the dates he went on, and so did you.
He even held your head after a hard night out with friends, where you found the guy you were in a “relationship” with snogging another girl. Too much alcohol trying to bury what you have witnessed and an ugly date with the toilet as you threw up. Izuku held your hair back and caressed your back with patience and care that early morning. Even dried your tears and hugged you through the feelings. No, you didn't love the guy, but you could have if he hadn't been a fucker.
No one would ever fit into the standard Izuku had made you build around men. But you had to try and find, considering that the main standard was not interested in you that way, and would never be.
It's exactly why, here you are. Waiting in your car after texting said man “oi!, i'm here!”, after he expressed that he has had an awful week and was so stressed he could throw a train towards the sky, up to the atmosphere. Holy fuck. The imagery made you laugh at the moment, but also sent a shiver down your spine at his tone because damn, he was so frustrated and angry. So, you didn't doubt it. Told him to get ready, that you would pick him up in 20 minutes to take him out.
There was no other intention other than pamper him, help him distract his mind from all the troubles that stressed him. Like a friend would.
It had been a lovely night, filled with lots of laughter, jokes and accomplished smiles that felt too normal by then.
You suddenly feel his eyes on you, his body directing his attention towards you as you ride the car, softly mumbling to a well known song that it's playing.
“What?” You ask a moment later, stopping right in front of Izuku's building and looking back at him.
“I just realized… You took me out to dinner. We had ice-cream as dessert and even some cocktails after. You drove and paid for it all. And now you took me back home…”
You snort, “And? What's the problem with that?”
You are a bit confused, especially because he's talking looking dead serious, like he has come to a realization that makes him even imagine in his head whatever it is that he is thinking. Jesus, even his eyes look so determined and shiny it makes you feel weirdly nervous.
But of course, you were not expecting at all what he said next.
“Do I have to suck you off?”
You look directly into each other's eyes for a full minute. Death silent. Song playing in the background. A car passes, its light making Izuku's face become clearer and exposed for the second it took until it drove away. Both your breathing suddenly heard loud inside your car. 
And then you both laugh your hearts out. Almost to the point of crying.
It's so ridiculously funny. The way Izuku asked it was so sure and ready for it and also keeping a serious tone. This type of humor with him has become so funny and comfortable to portray, you can't help but to answer back, “I mean… if you want to.”
You obviously mean it as a joke. It's not the first time you joke with double meaning in your words. It has become normal by now between you two.
Yet Izuku suddenly stops laughing. Again looking dead serious as you slowly come back from your laughter. You clean a small tear that threatens to fall from your left eye as you look at him. His expression is... alert, attentive; eyes are on you, shining, waiting, excited. And as time passes, you realize with a quiet and small gasp; he wants to suck you off.
Next thing you know, you’re sprawled over Izuku’s big and expensive couch, your jeans and panties thrown around somewhere in his living room. Legs open, exposed, as Izukus delves into the taste of your cunt. Both his hands, callous and a bit raspy due to his injuries and in contrast to your soft skin, hold you down by the waist as his mouth doesn’t even separate a millimeter from its place, tongue dancing all around your very wet pussy. 
His eyes are closed and he lets a few grunts here and there that travel up in your body and make you shiver in pleasure, followed by a tongue movement that makes you roll your eyes back. He's fucking enjoying having you like this.
Finally.
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wonysugar · 2 months
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working in retail 101 | ahn yujin
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synopsis : what happens when a floor manager flirts with a floor clerk during an accidental, overnight lock-in inside the store? well, not anything professional, that’s for sure.
pairing : clerk!gpyujin x floormanager!femreader
genre : smut, kinda fluff towards the end too? coworkers trope, kinnndaaa boss x employee?? idk but THEY’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE DATING!
tags : so! lot to unpack here lol, superstore au, yes that sitcom netflix show SUE ME, references to the show, you don’t have to watch the show to read this but it’d be better if you knew what i was talking aboutgiejdks, naturally all characters work at cloud 9!girlpenis!yujin, handjobs, teasing, oral sex (yuj receiving), missionary sex, marking up, sub!yujin, she’s hung halp, dom!reader, implied puppy play, jonah!coded yujin, so yes she’s a loser, amy!coded reader, dina!coded gaeul, cheyenne!coded wonyoung, glenn!coded jiwon, although she isn’t really mentioned ueueueue, garrett!coded rei!
warnings : mentions of alcohol!
word count : 5,1k (excluding texting ofc!)
a/n : THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC YET?? kinda not proofread so sorry for that but HAIII omg okay so this took me such a long while to write i’m SORRYY</333 i started it while i was in the PRIME of my superstore hyperfixation and ??? IT’S SUCH A FUNNY SHOW I DEFINITELY RECOMMEND IT OMG did i mention this was a superstore au— [GUNSHOTS] as for my other drafts, they’re being worked on as we speak!! i really hope you enjoy reading this and thank you for your time! :]
also. IF ANY OTHER SUPERSTORE ENJOYERS ARE READING THIS PLEASEEE INVADE MY INBOX IMMEDIATELY I BEGGG
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yujin.
that was all that preoccupied your thoughts, just her stupid face plaguing your mind like it was some sort of virus on a computer.
you needed yujin, there was no way around it. it was impossible to focus on your job when all you could think about was her, you needed her right here and right now.
and that’s exactly what you were gonna get.
after making sure that none of your coworkers were watching you flee the department you were in charge of, you quickly rushed towards the photo lab, or as everybody in the workplace liked to call it, ‘the bang room’. you walked in, slowly closed the door on your way and immediately pulled out your phone, leaning on the table and grinning to yourself as you typed up a text to send her.
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running.
..running?
visualizing her just running across the store made you uncontrollably giggle at your screen in amusement.
cute, you thought to yourself. nobody else you knew would go out of their way to run across a department store as an employee to get head, and you’d normally take that text as a hyperbole, but knowing yujin? well, she was known to be very literal in everything she said. if she’d one day tell you that she had bigger fish to fry, that’s probably because she was indeed at home, frying bigger fish on a pan. (and she’d probably even send you pictures of the bigger fish in question, because why wouldn’t she?)
barely 30 seconds had passed after her last message when you turned off your phone, slid it into one of your back pockets and waited patiently. looking around at the familiar environment, you thought of various ways you two could use it this time. on your last encounter with yujin, she laid you down on the same counter that the printer sits on and proceeded to dick you down there! another time, you thought that grabbing the professional camera that’s usually used for passport or id pictures on the metal shelf next to the table and recording yujin as you rode her cock was an amazing idea! and, it was.
so much so that you still have the videos saved onto your phone!
you didn’t know that reminiscing about all of these past occurrences again would worsen your original predicament, but it did; you needed yujin to show up as soon as possible. now more than ever. 
then, suddenly, as if your prayers were magically answered, you heard rapid and loud footsteps outside the lab, followed by a familiar voice exclaiming the words “oh shit—“ before being cut off by the sound of numerous heavy boxes falling on the ground, the thud of that person’s body immediately following. worried, you got up from your seat, the door swinging open before you even had the chance to take a step towards it.
a panting yujin is what greeted you, her chest heaving up and down.
she looked at you, and you looked back at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. her eyes were nervous, darting around occasionally, looking like this was the first time you would’ve ever sucked her dick in the photo lab. 
oh she definitely fell on her way here.
“…hi?” you said, amused by the thought.
“hello!” she responded, still short of breath, smiling stupidly. 
still preoccupied by the alarming amount of boxes toppled over behind her, you tried looking over her shoulder, wanting to confirm your theory. she reacted by immediately leaning onto that side of the door frame, attempting to hide her accident from your curious sight by acting casual. that gesture alone made you especially notice how messy her short hair looked, how the ‘ahn yujin’ name tag she had pinned to her blue cloud 9 vest seemed to be abnormally tilted to the left, as well as… how weirdly scratched her glasses looked..?
it, unfortunately for her, didn’t take long at all for you to connect the dots.
yup. she fell. 
“yujin— did you slip on your way here?”
she immediately started laughing nervously in response, her eyes darting around as she pushed up her glasses and cleared her throat, hand running through her soft short hair, “…what?! noo… who do you think i am? that’d just be clumsy of me..” she kept laughing, that is, until she mumbled under her breath, 
“i did jog a little bit and didn’t seem to notice the wet sign that was on the floor but it’s just a tiny little scratch probably, nothing too bad aha i’ll clean it up later before the other managers sees it— a-anywho!” 
so you were correct in believing her, she did run across the store just to get in here quickly. and, as expected of her clumsy person, she apparently also slipped and fell in the process.
you giggled at her. god, what an idiot, you thought.
your favorite idiot.
“you know you could’ve just walked here, right?” you told her, slowly walking towards her as you cheekily smiled. “we’re not in a rush.”
while you did so, yujin took the opportunity to finally lock the door properly behind her, not even looking back at it. she stared at you, then at your lips, then right back up at your eyes. “well— i did tell gaeul that i was gonna stock up the fridge after cleaning the spilled yogurt..” 
her hand scratched the back of her head nervously, “and.. i-i kind of was in a rush, i mean, you texted me...”
you chuckled, simply thinking that she was being sappy. that is, until she nervously bit her lip and motioned with her eyes for you to look down at her. “i couldn’t have anyone see me like this… so—“
your gaze was met with the incredibly visible hard-on she had. no seriously, it poked right through her denim jeans, anybody with average, functioning eyes could effortlessly see it, especially under the new, very bright lights that were recently installed by the electricians. you scoffed, incredibly amused by the sight, she got a boner from those innocent texts alone? that was a first, no wonder why she looked so keen to get here.
in her defense, it had been a long while since the two of you were last in this room alone. hell, it’d been a long while since the two of you even said actual words to each other, period. you guys aren’t friends or anything, you only ever text her whenever it’s work or sex related and there’s still barely any conversation then, let alone when you spoke to her in person.
therefore, the boner wasn’t completely unexpected, but it was still enough to heavily flatter you. then, you felt your ego get even more stroked when you remembered that… she didn’t know much about you at all, yet she got this worked up over texts like that from you? a simple coworker she knew and fucked from time to time?
i mean, you probably wouldn’t even remember what her last name is without looking at her nametag; in other words, you know absolutely nothing about her either! okay yeah, you know that she would always stumble on her own words when talking to customers, and that she has a tendency to always pick at her nametag that’s on the left side of her vest using her right hand. you also know that she always pushes her glasses up whenever she’s nervous and that she is overall incredibly handsome and that you catch yourself staring at her from any department you’re tasked in managing very often, but apart from that? you truly don’t know much.
she’s nothing more than just an inferior at work, to you. an acquaintance, at most, but that’s about it.
this whole approximately-twice-per-month ‘meet me in the photo lab’ ritual you two have going on wouldn’t have even existed if it wasn’t for that one time that the corporate team accidentally locked all of you in the store for the night. seriously, what else was there to do? every employee there (including yourself) took the opportunity to get drunk out of their minds to pass the time and.. honestly? yujin just looked that good that night. you couldn’t help but feel the desire to drag her to the photo lab and figure out what she tastes like, despite it being strictly forbidden to be having any sort of sexual or romantic relationship with your inferior.
the both of you were anything-but-sober, very hot individuals, and she’d caught your attention for the longest time prior to that moment, too, something stupid was bound to happen in the heat of the moment!
“photo lab, in five.” was what you quietly slurred into her ear that night, holding the biggest, most cliché, red, beer-filled solo cup ever. since the others were too busy drinking and playing ‘never have i ever’ in a certain corner of the store, nobody particularly noticed you two. she, in response, could only turn her head to face you properly with her eyebrows slightly raised, clearly taken aback by your sudden and unexpected boldness, whilst also subconsciously taking in all of your intricate facial features all at once. it’s not like she didn’t know what ‘photo lab’ entailed, everyone that worked at cloud 9 for more than a week did. maybe you were joking, she thought, perhaps you said that just to get a reaction out of her. saying that she was confused in the moment would be a big understatement, especially when she watched you get up from your seat and make your way to the spot in question.
yujin’s not stupid at all, she knew you were drunk as shit, the manner that you stumbled on your words, the way your hand sat on her thigh, the slight tint of blush on your cheeks and nose quickly gave it away. she also figured that it was most probably a very bad idea to actually follow you into that room, considering that you’re her manager, and all..
did she still do it, though? of course, of course she did. because despite everything, despite all of the ‘this is so wrong’ and ‘we shouldn’t be doing this’ she managed to get out of her,
she was equally as intoxicated that night, and it’s not like she even had it in her to pass up your invitation whether she was sober or not; as much as yujin tried to remain professional around you and not pursue anything outside of work, she always deemed you as intriguing, and she had thought about you in such a way occasionally. that being said, she was willing to accept the consequences that came with potentially having sex with you that night.
those feelings only got stronger when you eventually showed her what she’d been missing out on for all those months in one singular night. anything she’d have hoped for, you exceeded in.
as it turns out, drunken people don't always make the worst decisions after all! since, yknow.. you haven’t gotten caught by anybody yet, and hopefully never will. the only consequence she really had to deal with afterwards was you contacting her throughout random times of her shifts whenever you felt like sucking dick.
and that’s a perfectly fine outcome for both you and her.
but, that hasn’t happened in a long time, not until now, at least. hence the situation you were both put in now.
“should’ve texted you earlier, by the looks of it, hm?” teasing, you approached her, both of you now face to face. your eyes trained on her crotch, you pressed your palm onto it before looking up at her again. yujin pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose, then looked away from you in response to the intimacy, embarrassed.
you got to properly look at her features again. her eyes were still just as soft and fragile as when you saw them for the first time, staring back into yours with careful anticipation.
“m-maybe..” was what she mumbled under her breath, trying her hardest not to let out an accidental whimper from the slight friction she felt down there (which she failed to do), her thighs slightly clenched together. 
“did anybody see you walk in?” you asked.
“n-no! the only one near was wonyoung, i believe. and she was on her phone, as per usual..” reassured, you giggled at her usual nervousness, then, after keeping your eyes on her nervous lips for a few moments and licking your own in anticipation, you closed the minimal amount of distance between you two and made them meet after what felt like an eternity.
and once you did, she immediately got used to the familiar feeling and melted into the sensation of your embrace.
after such a long time of not being able to touch her like this, you felt like your hands glided on her entire body by themselves, feeling up the curve of her back and waist as you kissed her. she did the same, only this time more eager than your gentle movements, as one of her hands ‘accidentally’ grazed your ass.
one thing about yujin: she will always love your ass.
the only audible thing in the photo lab was her lips intertwining with yours, the kiss was undeniably messy, and while it might’ve been able to be heard from outside, you just couldn’t seem to care; at that moment, you just wanted to feel her body against yours, to pull her in closer than physically even possible. that’s what happens when you don’t get to have each other for a long time, after all.
“i missed you—“ she pulled away for a quick moment and whispered, pouting in a puppyish manner. her arms set around your waist and holding you, her fingers tugged onto your vest in desperation as you kept rubbing your hand on her clothed hard-on. 
“i know you did.” you whispered back, taking the opportunity to delicately unzip her jeans with the same hand you teased her with before going back into the kiss, this time, more longingly than ever. you did want to tell her how much you missed her too, but you refrained from doing so.
you had way better things to waste your time on.
your lips still on hers, she whimpered against the kiss. knowing her, she was wordlessly begging for you to do something about the raging boner you gave her. and knowing yourself, you wouldn’t give into her desires so easily, not until she used her words like a big girl. in other words, you wanted to see how desperate she would get.
smiling to yourself, you slowly slid your hand up from her crotch to her abs, you only kept tracing your finger on them, teasing her further.
“god, please—” her breath hitched, breaking the tense silence, the one that was occasionally filled with the sound of your lips uniting with hers. she whined even more, feeling her hard cock rubbing against the fabric of her already zipped down denim pants.
“please what, baby? you know i can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what it is you want.” you looked up innocently, now staring into her hooded eyes. she, in response, exhaled in anticipation, looking right back at you with her eyebrows slightly upturned. you knew exactly what she wanted, that much is obvious to her.
of course, she knew it wouldn’t be so easy, she knew she needed to work for it.
“i want you to t-touch me..” she desperately bucked her hips into your palm as a pitiful attempt at satisfying her crave for friction. “please..” was what she added afterwards, wearing her trademark puppy eyes whilst she pleaded.
“good girl.” you hummed, already getting familiar with the sound of her begging again. you planted a small kiss onto her lips and another onto her neck before getting down on your knees in front of her.
you looked up at her as you unbuttoned her jeans, your eyes locking with hers whilst you slowly pulled down her pants. once those as well as her boxers were completely off, leaving with nothing but her pretty dick springing up at you, you left lazy kisses all over her lower stomach and sides. 
you kept kissing her all over, giving attention to her inner thighs and hips, purposefully giving attention everywhere except where she specifically asked to be touched, watching out for any kind of reaction from her end.
and when you eventually got what you wanted, oh you were way more than satisfied.
“you’re so m-mean y/n.. please..” yujin whined quietly, too embarrassed to even look you in the eye anymore, hers all glossy with hot, desperate tears threatening to spill if this carried on any further. her dick said all of the words that couldn’t come out of her mouth through its slight movement, twitching and practically throbbing before you, aching to be taken care of.
she needed to feel your warm mouth around her, hell, just feeling the light graze of your touch against her aching cock would be enough; at least, that’s what it felt like, she was sure she’d go insane if you didn’t give her just that. if she could, she’d grab the back of your head and fuck your throat like she likes it, unapologetic and more than ready to make you swallow all of her thick load.
she knew she couldn’t, of course, she was very much aware that she needed permission to remotely even touch you, which, unfortunately for her, just contributed to arousing her even more.
taking pity on her, “i’m sorry for teasing, baby, you’re just so cute when you beg..” you admitted, smiling to yourself and running your hand up and down her thigh, before adding on, “you’ve been so needy, so good for me.. and just for that, i’ll take good care of you now, okay?”
just like that, her eyes were back on yours, this time wider and more excited, it’s like you could see her invisible puppy ears standing up in anticipation. she nodded at your words, her gaze still wet and pathetic with tears. 
it didn’t take long for you to finally wrap your hand around her hard shaft, stroking it up and down ever so slowly, to which the girl whose penis you were jerking off let out a heavy sigh of relief. your thumb brushed the slit of her tip, rubbing all of the precum that came out of it all over the surface of her cock, making her shudder. then, after what felt like an eternity of you teasing her, you eventually took all of her length all at once, holding your hair up. 
“ahh— y/n.. fuck..“ desperate moans escaped yujin’s mouth as you sucked her off, using all of her willpower attempting to not hold up your hair for you and ram herself into your mouth. 
she really wanted to, though, and you know her like you know the back of your hand, so that wasn’t hard to figure out. it’s obvious, especially with how her nails seemed to dig into her own skin due to how desperate she was to touch you. 
you saw that, and took pity on her; gently grabbing one of her hands and putting it on your hair, you nonverbally gave her the desired permission to finally touch you, and to guide your head however she wanted to.
mumbling quiet and desperate ‘thank you’s, she nestled her fingers in between your strands of hair for maximum comfort. unconscious about it, she dug her nails into your scalp slightly. it didn’t take long until she proceeded to finally move your head in a repetitive, back and forth motion.
“y/n..” she groaned after a while of having you suck her off, looking down at you and using all of her willpower to be as quiet as possible, but alas, “i can’t hold it in.. i’m sorry i— i need to cum.. so badly—”
no matter how hard she tried to keep it contained, she simply couldn’t: she moaned, finally shooting her long anticipated load into your throat, the warm and thick substance coating the entirety of the inside of your mouth. 
you weren’t done with her, of course, especially not after that.
now, you weren’t usually one to be into anything considered similar to ‘vanilla sex’, you always liked experimenting and trying different things, especially if it was yujin. however, you felt like keeping it simple today, your only objective being to orgasm from the girl’s, still very hard, cock.
therefore, what better way to do that than some good old missionary on the photo lab table? 
after making out with you and leaving marks all over your neck and visible parts of your collarbone, she ended up on top of your laying body, both your clothing and hers mostly still on. 
being positioned like this was the only time where she felt like she had power over you, and not vice-versa. it was the only time where she felt like she could do anything she wanted to you without any consequences, and she looked forward to it every single time. of course, she still thoroughly enjoys having you order her around, whether it’s for work or not, however, she also liked having a role switch every once in a while.
keeping her balance with one of the hands she has on the table, positioned right next to your head, she proceeded to take off the glasses from her face and set them somewhere near. you quickly stopped her by gently grabbing onto her wrist, which caught her attention. wide-eyed, she asked, “yeah?”
“don’t take them off.”
“...excuse me–”
“keep your stupid glasses on this time,” she was already committed to the action of putting them back on after you indicated that you wanted her to, but you decided to justify further, just for good measure, “i’ve always wondered what’d it look like for you to wear them while you fuck me.” 
and when she thought she couldn’t possibly be any more turned on and eager to fuck you, you proved her wrong with just that small, simple sentence.
she quickly pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose before leaning back into you, kissing you again, this time more eagerly. soon enough, she pulled away and started fucking you with slow, gentle thrusts, listening out for any sounds that came out of your pretty lips, gaze going back and forth between admiring how pleasure quickly contorted your beautiful face and watching how her dick disappeared into you.
the longer that went on, the harder it got to contain the noises that threatened to leave your already agape mouth, especially with how fast yujin’s pace got progressively faster.
“f-fuck yujin..” you whined, watching the girl on top of you lose herself as she thrusted the entirety of her length into your core. she looked at you through the lenses of her glasses as you whimpered sweet praises, leaving hungry, desperate kisses all over your lips, neck and even collarbone, marking you up even more.
soon enough, all of this turned into a constant cycle; all of a sudden, you realized that you wouldn’t actually mind staying that way for hours and hours on end. who knew that yujin could make hooking up on a shift for around the hundredth time still be so fun?
she eventually planted one last kiss on your lips before making you cum, your walls clenching all around her cock, which, of course, turned her on so much that she had to pull out to jerk off and help herself reach her own climax, in one last long moan.
lightheaded from the consecutive orgasms she’s put herself through, she laid there after you thoroughly licked her coated-in-cum dominant hand, as to remove any evidence of you two being ever here. her body rested on yours and her head comfortably nestled in the crook of your neck as she cuddled up to you, enjoying your body warmth. you panted, matching the rhythm of her own breathing, otherwise a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. 
that is, until her phone obnoxiously rang in one of her jean pockets, breaking said silence and catching the both of you by surprise. 
sitting up in a hurry, she quickly digs into said pocket and pulls out her cellular device, wasting no time to look at the caller and straight up just answers it, in case of an emergency. she puts it up to her ear before speaking up, clearly nervous, “..hello?”
silence. you stare at her with anticipation and curiosity, studying her facial expressions and looking out for any hint of bad news. thankfully, that never happened, as her eyes instead lit up in surprise.
“oh! yes, hello..”
“uh huh,” she added, nodding along to the words only she heard from the tiny phone speaker placed against her ear, “4 pm? yes! of course, i-i’ll be there. thank you so much.” 
she quickled fixed her posture and ended the call soon after saying that, turning back at you with a pleased and surprised expression.
“who was that?” you asked, curiosity eating at you.
“target.” she watched as your expression switched to a puzzled one, therefore explained further, “they called me to see if i was free for an interview later.”
“interview?” you repeated, making sure you heard her correctly, she nodded. “you applied to places recently?” is what you added.
she gave you another nod, this time reluctant, fixing her glasses and messy short hair, “i mean, nothing against cloud 9 or anything! i like working here and i love you guys, a lot! i simply just wanted a change of pace, i guess.. p-plus they might not even hire me, it’s not like i was expecting them to even call me back in the first place, so—” 
“hey,” you placed before she could stumble on another one of her words, wearing a sympathetic smile, “don’t worry about ‘not repping’ cloud 9 or whatever, it’s not like you sold your soul to jiwon when coming here. you’ll kill it there!” you joked, before continuing, “plus, you can always come back if things ever don’t work out; whatever happens, i’m rooting for you, we all are.” 
“even if you’re working for the rival company.” were your last words before leaving a kiss on her cheek and standing back up on your two feet, fixing yourself up. the sudden skin contact combined with the banter earned a shy giggle from yujin.
it was somewhat a ridiculous situation, feeling guilty for leaving your coworkers and going for another job, yujin didn’t know why she felt like this over trivial things such as this one. yet, you comforted her, despite how stupid it might seem. it’s only natural since you, out of all people, are the first person to know how much of a nervous wreck she is and how sensitive she always is to this kind of stuff, that was her charm, after all.
she appreciated you way more than she’d like to outwardly admit.
so, while you’re making your way to the door, getting ready to go to the break room to grab your things from your locker and clock out for the day, she calls out to you, “hey, y/n?”
“yeah?”
“are you maybe free, afterwards? y-yknow since our shifts both end at 2:30pm i was thinking we could maybe go grab a coffee together before my job interview and stuff but it’s like, totally fine if you already have plans or whatever—“
you smiled, flattered by the invitation. after all, today would mark the last day that you’re considered her ‘superior’, so you found it cute that she’d ask so soon. quite frankly, you were very tempted, this time having no obstacles in your way. who wouldn’t wanna go out on a date with the cute, charming girl who usually works at the dairy section? well, used to.
“sure, i would love tha—“
“ahem ahem.” you were cut off by the staticky sound of the words coming from the intercom, immediately recognizing the familiar and soft-spoken voice of your coworker, rei, “attention, dear shoppers of cloud 9, just a heads up to please proceed to not feel concerned about the following message, as it is destined to our staff, and our staff only, please and thank you. happy shopping!”
you and the puppy-like girl looked at each other in confusion, only to be thrown off guard by the same voice again, this time sounding more impatient. 
“now.. y/n, yujin, i know you can hear me; come out of that damn photo lab before i personally drag you out of there myself oh my god y’all aren’t slick, we all know what you do in there, you’re not fooling anybody. also, what happened to keeping it classy? what happened to doing this at home? not only that but it’s been like— an hour and a customer has been trying to get some passport photos done but you hoes— two, you two have been at it for forever. next time, if you’re gonna do this, make sure to at least keep it short and not have it last a whole decade.” 
then, you heard the intercom turn off.
yujin’s face went completely red as she listened to that, now not at all wanting to walk out of said photo lab. you cleared your throat, your whole body invaded with nothing but embarrassment as uncomfortable silence filled the space between you and the other girl. 
then, once you heard the intercom turn on again, it felt like your worst nightmare coming back to life for round two.
except this time, it didn’t come for you.
“oh and yujin, gaeul wanted me to tell—“ rei’s voice blasted through the speaker again before being obnoxiously interrupted by what sounded like gaeul’s voice, who was audibly angry and annoyed.
“yujin if you don’t get your ass back in the dairy section right now and clean that god damned spilled yogurt i’ll personally make sure that jiwon gets your next paycheck cut off by fifty percent, don’t test me. it reeks, yujin, reeks. oh and as for you, wonyoung, get off that damn phone before i—”
then, the intercom turned off again, which was probably rei’s doing, to both yujin, and probably wonyoung’s relief. 
you simply giggled, watching as she took off her name tag in an embarrassed manner, yknow, as to not be recognized by the customers she’d meet on her way to the row she had to clean. then, you cleared your throat, earning her attention before leaving. 
“meet me outside when you’re done?” you smiled.
she returned that same smile, immediately having forgotten the misery that was waiting for her outside that door, visibly excited.
“yeah, i’ll be there.”
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Idk who i want this ask for other than Firefly, but an S/O who’s such a light weight that basically one sip of alcohol gets them spouting about how much they love their girlfriend.
(H:SR/Genshin Impact) Firefly, Arlecchino, Rosaria, Chiori, Xinyan, Clorinde and Dehya with a drunk S/O being overly affectionate
I don't even need to be drunk to do that for Firefly
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Firefly lets out a sound that could be interpreted as a squeak, laugh, or cry of embarrassment. The answer was probably a mixture of all three.
Firefly wasn't that easily affected by alcohol due to her genetic engineering, but she wanted to tag along with S/O just to spend time. She swore they just tasted the drink before they started loudly exclaiming how adorable she was.
Sure enough, one glance over to their glass and it was still completely full, making her pout.
(Firefly) "S-S/O! Please lower your voice! It's a little embarrassing hearing all that out loud-"
(S/O) "But how else is everyone going to know what a cutie you are? That face right now is sooooo pretty...Wait, you're right, it only belongs to ME!-"
Firefly lets out a quiet sigh. At least she couldn't argue that S/O didn't love her so much.
(S/O) "Even when you wear your armor, you're my Firefly, not SA-"
Firefly's hand instantly moves to S/O's mouth, covering it before they could continue, eyes rapidly darting left and right.
(Firefly) "Okay, we're going home!"
The bar watches as this tiny woman manages to lift S/O over her shoulders with zero issue out the door.
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Arlecchino watches with silent amusement as she hears what's so great about herself.
Would Arlecchino use any of the terms S/O was shouting out into the room to describe herself? Archons, no.
But...it was endearing to hear S/O think so highly of her.
Tracing the edge of her glass with one finger, Arlecchino hums as she sips her wine.
(Arlecchino) "Would you tell anyone else of how you felt about your 'lovely' girlfriend?"
(S/O) hic! "To the world, I'll shout about her on the top of the city!"
Slowly, her eyes trailed down to their glass. They haven't even got it to halfway.
(Arlecchino) "How entertaining..."
(S/O) "H-hey...! Are you making fun of my affection for my Arle!? DO YOU WANNA FIGHT?!"
With an eyebrow raised, she turns back to S/O.
(Arlecchino) "You are aware of who you're speaking to, correct?"
(S/O) "Some punk who's making fun of my girlfriend! I don't care that you look like her, I won't let you insult her!"
(Arlecchino) "...Maybe we should pour you a less alcoholic beverage next time."
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(Rosaria) "Oh good gods no."
Sure Dandelion Wine was strong, but it couldn't be strong enough to knock S/O flat on their ass like this, right?
(S/O) "Your eyes are so pretty too...the way they look like you want to-"
(Rosaria) "Okay, I get it, thank you. Don't finish that."
As annoying as their volume was, especially considering people were giving her and S/O looks, this was pretty damn funny.
And also sweet, she had no idea they had this much love stored for her.
Part of her feels bad, she hadn't even done that much to deserve such praise.
Rosaria just chuckles and reaches out a hand to rustle their hair, which they hum at the cute gesture.
(S/O) "See?! Just like that, you're such a darling!"
(Rosaria) "Not the word I'd use, but sure."
(S/O) "I can use a hundred different words to-"
(Rosaria) "Do not."
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(Chiori) "Ew."
Chiori would not use any of these terms to describe herself, much less anyone else.
To have S/O use pet names like "sweetie-pie" or "honey-bunches" was having her internally cringe to the point she might die.
(S/O) "Hey, don't you say ew about my girlfriend!" hic! "I-I'LL KICK YOUR ASS!"
Now that got Chiori to laugh, one hand rushing to her mouth as she fails to contain her own volume.
(Chiori) "You'd kick your girlfriend's ass, S/O?"
(S/O) "Huh...? NO! I LOVE HER, I WOULD NEVER LAY A HAND ON HER!"
(Chiori) "Then check who you're talking to."
(S/O) "No, this is some mindgame! She'd just tell me that it was her and not play around! She's too honest!"
Well, at least they were right about that part.
Next time she should pour them a shot glass of sake, if one sip from not even a full cup was enough to get them riled up like this, Chiori wouldn't have wasted so much.
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(Xinyan) "K-Keep your voice down, yer gettin' rowdier than my guitar!"
(S/O) "Yeah, and you're SOOOO hot with the guitar too! You shreds it and...and...shreds it!-"
(Xinyan) "For the love of...!-"
Xinyan gets extremely flustered with S/O screaming about how lovely of a woman she is.
Which would be great, if half the Harbor couldn't hear them at this very moment.
She wants to hide away to avoid all the stares, but at the same time Xinyan wants to give S/O the best kiss she can.
She was always so insecure about herself, but to hear S/O's unfiltered love for her was something she could never have prepared for.
...Probably because they were shouting it, but regardless, it was enough to get her to tear up from love and embarrassment!
(Xinyan) "S-Sshhh! I'm beggin' ya, S/O! Tell me how much ya love me when ya ain't so loud!"
(S/O) "You want me to whisper my love for you?"
(Xinyan) "Yea-"
Xinyan then thought about that sentence for a few seconds.
(Xinyan) "...N-NO!"
She honestly forgets about the drinks in their hands, being too preoccupied with S/O.
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Clorinde flushes red, and not because of the alcohol.
Thank Archons they drank at home and away from the media vultures, because the things they were doing was mortifying.
To both her, and themselves.
(Clorinde) "...D-Dear, that's enough drinking."
They were nuzzled into her chest, noises of approval coming out as they cuddled closer.
She had to stop their hand reaching for the drink, or more accurately, stop it from spilling over.
(S/O) "You're really strong, you know that?"
Clorinde lets out a quiet chuckle, rubbing their hair.
(Clorinde) "I have been told on occasion that my skills are-"
(S/O) "And you're so pretty...! And smell nice...!"
(Clorinde) "...That, less so."
(S/O) "Your chest is super big too...and pretty...!"
(Clorinde) "...I wish I have heard that one less."
Alright, romantic mood over. She moves them off her, though their whine almost made her rescind her actions.
But they needed to sleep. Or at least get ready for the worst hangover from a single sip.
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Dehya is laughing in both disbelief and from second-hand embarassment.
As shy as she was getting from the heartfelt compliments, it was more the fact S/O was shouting so loud the other mercs could hear them and began laughing that made her feel antsy.
They would never never live this down, especially because they drank a couple sips from the wine they bought.
But damn if this wasn't funny/cute.
(Dehya) "Hm...what else do you love about me S/O? I'm open to hear them.~" And so is the rest of the camp, apparently.
(S/O) "You're so tough and kickass and..." hic "And super cute!"
(Dehya) "Cute? Not hot?"
(S/O) "Nah! The way you're so happy applying...the...the makeup thingy, its really cute!"
Now she was the one getting silent, and all red in the face.
(Dehya) "I-Is that right? Dunno if I should be happy or angry about that."
People complimented her physical attributes, perhaps a little too much, but this was the first time it was flat out ignored.
Especially since this was S/O speaking from the heart.
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fuckmycrane · 1 year
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Moon — Thomas Shelby.
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— CW: 18+!, smut. breeding kink, (slight) housewife kink, mentions of kidnaping. Age gap. | word count: 1.7k. (not proofread!)
— a/n: I have no clue from where this came from. I'm not in the best mindset and this happened. This is also my first time writing for Tommy so don't hate me lol. This isn't canon compliant ig because I don't want it to be. I just want him so bad it's not even funny.
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Vulnerability. 
It was a word he never thought he’d truly understand the meaning of. 
It was always meant to be a secret. Why? Because good things don’t last long— not for him. Never for him. 
And every time he is away from you, it is a constant heartache that not even the strongest alcohol or an insane amount of tobacco could ease. He wishes he could steal the moon from the dark skies of Birmingham and hand it to you, he knows how much you love the moon. Night after night, he raises his head to stare at it for hours, wondering where are you, if you are thinking about him as much as he is thinking of you.
Wondering if you love him as much as he loves you.
Love. Such a funny word. A meaning both so full and so empty.
He wishes he could steal you. 
He knows how much he loves you.
It is always better to be safe than sorry— that’s why he secluded you, and you understood. Perhaps it was the naivety granted by your young age, or maybe it was your blind love for a man who was doomed since the day he was born. Whatever it was, it kept both of your hearts attached, beating as one; watching the same moon.
He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes; he is a smart man, he knows where you are and with whom, he knows what dress you wore and who you talked to. And he does it for love. Or even obsession. A strange urge that creeps into him every night when he thinks of you after a long day of work— an urge to be loved. He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes until he is able to see you again. To hide under that perfect, warm blanket that is your arms, your kisses, your body. 
In front of your front door, he knocks even though he knows the door is open. He has guards on every corner, eyes on every window. He already lost too many precious things in his life. He can’t afford to lose you. He built you a house, a paradise for you to enjoy, cherish and take care of. He gave you everything you could ask for, even more. Growing up, you never experienced the same deficiencies and struggles he did, you never had to lift a single finger and that’s alright for him. Because on those days when he feels powerless and exhausted, he knows he can always ride back home, and regain that power by standing next to you. 
Home. Home. Home.
“Tommy!” The squeak of excitement makes the long trip worth it. Everything is worth it if it comes to you.
He hugs you, keeping you tight against his chest wishing he could stay that way forever, basking in your delicate soul, your selfless heart. Thomas calls your name in an affectionate way that no one could evoke in such a genuine way. He kisses you with such passion that makes your blood boil and your heart flutter.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, ignoring how his mind scolds him for the hint of vulnerability that laces his voice. 
Placing your hands over your stomach, his body tenses at the small bump underneath your expensive, tailored dress. “We feel good, we missed you— I missed you” You reply with adoration. He is finally here.
“I’m here,” He says as if you needed confirmation that he is in fact in front of you. 
“How is everyone?” 
“Good” He places a large hand over your stomach, rubbing it with his palm. “Ada keeps asking me when I will bring you back to Small Heath”
“And when will that be?” Your question gives him a pang of guilt. He wishes he could have an answer, his face says it all. “It’s alright, love. I understand things are… difficult”
“Enough about that” He breathes, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He wants the distraction, he wants the warmth, he wants you. “I’m here to see my wife, not to talk about work”
With a giggle, you kiss him. “Fine. Whatever you want”
And he loves that. He loves how willing to please you are. He loves how you let him guide you upstairs, undress you, and adore you. Thomas’ hands caress the small bump in your stomach as he carefully lifts his hips to thrust deeper, enjoying every small moan and gasp. Normally he isn’t this gentle, but he will never harm you or your baby. With his occasional grunts and pants, he grabs your thighs, increasing his pace. Watching you bounce on top of him is a heavenly sight and is in these moments when he is sure you are an angel sent from heaven from him. He might not believe in God but whatever exists in this cruel world granted him with a Goddess.
“I m–missed you” You moan digging your nails into the pale skin of his shoulders. “I missed you s–so much”
That damn wave of vulnerability washes over him, the bed creaks with your combined weight, creating a delicious, sinful melody that he evokes on those nights when he is too desperate for your body and has to find relief in his own hands. 
His large hands cup your breasts, paying attention to your swollen, sensitive nipples. Thomas pinches them gently watching you tremble. He can already imagine them full and heavy, ready to take care of the baby that you are expecting— his baby. A louder groan falls down his lips at the thought. Such a wonderful mother you will be. Such a perfect, precious housewife. 
Such an angel sent from heaven.
“I love how you look” He confesses in a husky fashion, bouncing your tits in his calloused palms. “I can’t wait to see you— to see you all round and heavy with my baby”
His words send a shiver down your spine, clenching around him and making Thomas hiss from the raw pleasure of your tight pussy. “Please— don’t stop”
“I wasn’t plannin’ on, doll”
Thomas dares to increase the pace, using one hand to grope your ass to keep balance. Your moans also increase in volume, igniting the primal desire to claim you inside of him. “You are so fucking tight— I will fucking pump another baby into you as soon as you have this one”
You nod fervently, closing your eyes and scratching his chest. “Yes! I’ll have as many as you want Tommy— anything you want! Anything”
The loyalty he so loves. 
His lust wins over his composure for a moment, landing a sharp slap over your asscheek that makes you whine and clench again causing him to grit his teeth. He is aware of how much you adore it when he is rough with you, he thrives on the submission you gave him since day one. Unable to help himself, your husband slaps your ass repeatedly, relishing the cries of pleasure that call him like a siren to a poor, lost sailor. 
“Say you are mine” He grunts after another hard slap. He isn’t going to last any longer. Not with such a breathtaking view. 
“I belong to you!” You comply instantly. “I am y–yours! I’ve always been” He knows you are telling the truth. That’s why he had to take you away from your home, to manipulate you in order to give up your last name, to cast you under his spell— that’s why he had to have you since he first landed eyes on you. 
But at the end of the day, he was the one wrapped around your finger.
He is the one wrapped around the velvety, soft walls of your cunt, squeezing him for dear life and silently begging him to breed you, use you, claim you…
Love you.
With a strained cry, you come around him. He could watch you unravel on top of him for hours— in fact, he has.  Your movements were slow, deliberate, and intense. He could feel his breath hitch as you moved, and his heart raced as you arrived at your climax. His gaze was unwavering as he watched you ride out the waves of your pleasure. Thomas followed you seconds after, moaning your name under his breath; he fills you up just the way you both adore, it’s evident that when the hours pass, time is the only thing left to waste. Panting above him, he carefully settles you next to him, spooning you and keeping his softening cock inside of you. This is how he wants to end every day, to wake up every morning. 
Kissing your sweaty neck, he breathes you in, memorizing your scent once again. He knows his time with you is limited before someone notices his absence and begins to track him. Thomas needs to be two steps ahead of anyone. Your soft giggles make him smile, a genuine smile that feels so foreign to him. Under the darkness of your bedroom, his hands caress your hot skin, providing you with the heat and care he knows you crave. 
“I love you” You whisper, closing your eyes and falling asleep rather quickly. He listens to your heavy breathing, peaceful and unbothered; and that’s how he wishes it could stay forever. Away from worries, stress, fear. 
“I love you, more than you can imagine” He musters, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.
It’s true. Because love is such a funny word that gives him such a funny feeling. 
A warm, fuzzy feeling.
He opens his eyes, raising his head to look at the windows. The curtains are wide open, the weak glow of the full moon casting a divine glow over your naked body. His lips land on your shoulder, allowing the sensation to wash over him. It's a moment of peace and serenity, a moment in time that will never be forgotten. A moment he doesn’t want to end. 
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will bring you back where you belong. It doesn’t matter the consequences, it doesn’t matter if the whole world finds out Thomas Shelby was the one who kidnaped Jack Nelson’s younger sister. As long as he has you, he is alive.
And he swears it to the moon.
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gguk-n · 1 month
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Chapter 5- Racing for Love
Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)
Series Masterlist
Summary- Y/N spends her time in Netherland with Max while his girlfriend no where to be seen. They spend Christmas and New Year together. Y/N can't get over Max; maybe it's for the best. Max realised he loves her.
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{Reader's POV}
I headed back to the hotel after the race to get dressed and meet up with Max. Every one was going to be celebrating Max's win at the club. All the drivers were also joining, making it the perfect opportunity for us to meet. I was so excited. I wore a navy blue body con midi dress, it made me look and feel hot. I had told Max I'd meet him there, yet he insisted on picking me up. I was almost done getting ready when Max knocked on my door. I opened it to a much cleaner Max. I grabbed my purse and headed out with Max. "Is your girlfriend in the car?" I asked walking along with him. "No" he answered and then we walked in silence to the car. On the way there I asked again, "Is she meeting us there?" "No" he replied shortly. "Why?" I asked again. "She went back home" Max said in a tone that meant he didn't wanna talk about it anymore.
At the party, I had a lot of fun. I got to meet everyone who were very kind, welcoming and funny. They were all shocked that Max had a friend for so long that no one knew about, Charles and Lando included. We laughed, we drank, Max was pretty sober, not having touched a drink since we got there. "Why aren't you drinking?" I slurred having gulped down my previous shot of vodka, I'd lost the count of how much I had to drink since I got handed a glass as soon as one finished. "I drove here, we need to drive back to the hotel" he replied. "OHHHHH, LET'S DANCE" I shouted over the loud music. "You should go, I'm good here." Max replied while preventing Lando from toppling over. I sauntered my way to the dance floor, a guy had made my acquaintance as soon as I started dancing and we were having a lot of fun until, Max came dragging me back to where we were sat. "Max, I'm having fun. Lemme go" I whined trying to pull my hand away from his but drunk me wasn't very strong. "Drink some water and then we're leaving." he stated. "What? But we just got here. Look at all those bottle" I pointed at the bottles behind the bartender, "I need to sample those" I cried. "You can sample the alcohol later. We don't want you to get alcohol poisoning." he said shaking his head. "I have a good tolerance. SEE" I said while finally breaking free from him to try to walk in a straight line only to fail miserably and almost fall. I was only saved by Max's crazy fast reflexes, who caught me at the right moment and carried me over his shoulder back to his car, all the while I was screaming. "PUT ME DOWN....MAXIE.....YOU'RE MAKING ME DIZZY....PLEASE....I THINK I'M GONNA puke" I puked as soon as he put me down next to his car; thankfully having the brain to stop myself from puking all over his expensive car. I brushed the back of my right hand against my lips after puking, "Thank god I didn't puke on your car. haha. I don't think I can afford to clean it" I laughed. He handed me a bottle of water and got me in the car after that. The hang over wasn't as bad as I had expected it to be; maybe because Max got me medicines to help.
I spent the next few days in Zandvoort going to some of the very few places Max was allowed to go and have fun as a kid. We even went go karting. It was a shitty feeling racing against a World Champion since that idiot can't just enjoy the race. He had to make everything a competition. How did he expect me to win when this was the first time I was karting while he did this as a living for many years. We had bet on the fact that the loser had to do whatever the winner wanted; in all my confidence I had said yes, I had forgotten that my opponent was Max Verstappen. Yet, when he won after one pout, Max forgot he's the winner and let me get what I wanted since it was technically cheating since this wasn't his first time and it was mine. So, that's how we ended up watching Barbie at the end of the day. As I wiped away tears, I saw that Max was also wiping away tears. I'm never gonna let him hear the end of this.
The next few days were a blur, I tried to make the best of the situation since I wasn't sure when I would get to meet Max again. I packed up my stuff, a question still lingered on my mind; where the fuck was his girlfriend?. So, I decided to have this conversation in the car where he wouldn't be able to escape me like he did the last few days. Max carried my stuff to his car and loaded it in the car. I sat down on the passenger seat waiting for Max to come. We drove off towards the airport when I said, "Maxie, I haven't seen your girlfriend since the race. I was really looking forward to getting to know her" "Oh, umm" he sighed, "Actually, we broke up" he said while looking straight ahead. "What? Why? Is it because you hugged me first at the race. Fuck, should I apologise?" I rambled. "Schat, nonsense. We hadn't been getting along for a while. I'd been thinking about breaking up with her for a while, it just happened when you were there. It's not your fault" he clarified. My shoulders sank while I waited to get to the airport. I bid Max a good bye and he promised to come visit or have me visit during the off season. I promised to meet him soon. With a heavy heart, Max disappeared in the crowd as I walked into the airport.
We went back to our previous routine of talking on video calls. I ended being spoiled a lot more now that he knew where I lived because I would come home to a new package I didn't remember ordering at my front door when I returned from work. If I asked him why, and he'd just shrug it off and say that it was something that reminded him of me when he was in that country for the race. After a few packages, it was overwhelming me. I felt like I was using my rich friend for financial gain. We were on call after I had opened up a package I got from Brazil. Y/N- Max, you can't keep sending me so much stuff. There was a box full of trinkets and snacks from Brazil. Max- It was nothing, did you like it? Y/N- No Max- oh ok, what do you want? I can get that for you? Y/N- Maaaaxxxxx, that's not what I meant. You have to stop sending me stuff now. It's getting over whelming. Max- But...I just wanted to bring a little something back from every race. Y/N- Yes, do that for yourself. Not me Max- I've always wanted to take you along to races and bring you stuff back from races since I've known you. Now that I can, let me make up for all the lost time. Y/N- I get the sentiment Max, I do, but no. It's making me feel crappy since I'm not able to get you anything. I enjoy our friendship, I do not want to feel like I'm using you. Max- You're not using me. I'm using myself, honestly. Y/N- I don't want to come home to anymore packages any more. If you really want to get me something, think about it for a couple time. One or two items that you would like to get for me, is perfectly fine. Max- Ok...I really wanted to get you things though. Y/N- You can tell me about your weekend. I'll listen but this is overbearing to me. Finally he got what I meant.
We ended up making a plan for the off season. Max had won the season with the amount of points he had scored. It was a given that he was gonna be the World Drivers Champion for 2023. So, I wanted to celebrate it with him. He offered to fly me out to Abu Dhabi for the race which would not be possible since I had work. That's why we planned to spend the Christmas break together. I did suggest leaving a few days before Christmas so he can spend it with his family but he was vehemently against it. I had started Christmas shopping in November, could've done it earlier. I got Max an ugly Christmas sweater with the grinch and a matching one for myself. It would be like a friendship bracelet. We would be spending the holiday in Monaco because of the privacy and I wanted to get away from here for a few days at least. I kind of wanted to clear my feeling for Max during this trip too. Being on the receiving end of Max's affection with gifts or the phone calls wasn't easy when you were in love with him. He made it so difficult to try and get over him when he would sweet talk his way back into my heart whenever I thought I didn't like him in that way.
I had sent my collection to the author I was editing for currently since she wanted to read it ever since I mentioned that I wrote. I sent her the email a couple days after going over the collection one last time. It was exciting and nerve wrecking. Maybe getting the opinion of a fellow author would help me make it better and improve it, if need be.
The last race of the season was upon us. Max was crowned the World Driver's Champion for the third time. I texted him as soon as the race ended and congratulated him. I couldn't believe that I got to witness a Max win. The day couldn't get any better when I got a call from the author I was editing for who said that she loved the collection of poems I sent her and she wanted to help me get it published under the publication she worked for. She had been working for that publication for so long and was the biggest earner that they couldn't deny her request. In her defence, she said that the poems were so good that any one stupid would only reject it. I was asked to edit it and the author was an angel to help me out. Her reasoning was that this was a mutually beneficial relationship since she hadn't enjoyed working with someone as much as she enjoyed working with me.
Winter break couldn't come any sooner. I had packed my bags; no work, done with my editing side gig. I couldn't wait to hang out with Max. The flight there felt so long, maybe it was the excitement of wanting to see him. Max was waiting for me at the airport when I got there. A big smile on his face as I walked towards him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I hugged him. He twirled me around a little before putting me down. We walked back to the car with my bag in Max's hand. The ride there was filled with a lot of talking on Max's part. Hearing him go on about what he loved was the warmest feeling. "The cats are so excited to see you" he said. "So, you aren't?" I joked. "What no" he was flustered. "I'm excited to." he mumbled a tint of red visible on his cheeks. My heart leapt in my chest as I watched him blush. What if I wasn't delusional? What if he liked me? I thought.
At his home, the cats were a little cautious of the stranger that had entered their space but recognised me quickly by my voice and a few hours later I was sat with both of them sat on either side of me; petting the two with both of my hands. Max snapped a picture of us sat on the couch. "Can't believe this is the life you live" I said petting his cats, a soft purring exuding from both. "Having cats is the best thing ever" I almost screamed from excitement. Max laughed. "I might kidnap them" I suggested. Max shook his head, "You will do no such thing"
The next few days leading up to Christmas were a a blur, we spent time around the city, walking around and site seeing. Max was a great tour guide since he stored the most random information in his head. He gave me a quick history lesson on a lot of the places we went to. We walked along the track in Monaco since I wanted to. We went hiking; I was very out of shape is the conclusion I've come too. We spent the day leading up to Christmas cooking at home and decorating the place. This was the first time since I moved out from my parents place did I end up celebrating Christmas.
We ended up sleeping on the couch as we watched Christmas movies after tiring our self out with the decoration. I woke up in Max's arms, a warm fuzzy feeling erupted in my stomach as I watched soft snores emit from Max's lips. I carefully pried myself out of Max's grasp. When I returned, I found a disheveled Max sat on the couch. "where did you go?" he asked while rubbing his eyes. "I had to pee" I said, now sitting down on the couch beside him. "Should we open presents?" I asked. "Lemme freshen up" Max mumbled while getting up. He came back, much more awake and with 2 cups of coffee for us. We drank in silence until Max brought his present for me from under the tree and handed it to me. There were a few actually; a book on Formula One with Max's face on it, a pendent with a sapphire stone and a stupid coffee cup saying 'best friends forever'. I smiled as I held the cup against my lips acting like I was sipping coffee. "Thank you Maxie" I said. He just smile. "Now, it's your turn." I said. He grabbed the other presents; which included an ugly sweater, a Sid from Ice Age plushy and a perfume from Max's favourite brand. "These are a lot of things" he said. "Yeah, I wanted to spoil you" I smiled. "I feel spoilt" he smiled back. "I got us matching ugly sweater" I said while going to grab mine. We ended up putting our sweaters on. "I didn't tell you but I got signed by a publication" I said while Max inspected his sweater. He looked up with shock and happiness in his eyes. He quickly hugged me, "I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it" he said while hugging me. I hugged back, "Thank you for believing in me" I said with tears in my eyes.
Christmas was a weird day, we had Turkish kabab because Max wanted to. I wasn't one to say no to delicious food. The days between Christmas and New Year were a bit of a blur honestly. On new year's eve, we went out with a couple of his friends. I had decided not to drink my weight in alcohol. As we all counted down the time to new year, the excitement palpable. When the clock struck 12, I was pulled towards the guy next to me who had made acquaintance much to Max's dismay. He pressed his lips against my lips, easing me into a kiss. When I pulled away to look at Max, who's eyes flashed hurt. I hugged Max wishing him a happy new year. We left a little while later. Max was uncharacteristically quite as we drove home.
We never spoke about the silent treatment Max gave me on the way back from the club. I left Monaco a few days after. Our friendship returning to it's long distance status. With Max having to train for the next season and me having to prepare for school and my book.
The next few months were a blur with both of us quite busy. Max kept is his streak of winning the races and watching him win was a proud feeling. He would call me at the end of the day to discuss what happened and I enjoyed listening to him even though I didn't know shit about cars.
I spent the entirety of my spring break and summer break with Max, travelling to his races; which he insisted I joined. The feelings I had for him only grew. I tried to keep myself in check but all the small things he would do made it impossible. He was caring and sweet and kind, and most of all my first love that I had a hard time moving on from.
His summer break was spent lounging around my house. He accompanied me to the launch of my book; going as far as to promote it on his socials. People had started to speculate that there was something going on in between us. Max didn't really answer those questions or even try to kill the rumours. He got me a big bouquet of my favourite flowers when he came to the book launch. We went out for dinner to celebrate; ending up on all the tabloids the next day. I apologised to Max about the mess but he was unbothered, a little smile played on his face after he read the articles but nothing more.
After the summer break, Max was flying out to Netherland, for his home race. I couldn't join him due to there being a few tests I needed to grade but promised to be there for the race. I flew in the morning of the race, Max showing up at the airport to pick me up. He wouldn't let me be on my own, if he was there. We caught up on the stuff that happened in the 2 days we didn't speak. It felt like routine talking to Max. If we didn't, it felt like my day had gone my horribly and everything that could go wrong would go wrong. There was comfort in Max's voice and his arms whenever he hugged me.
I accompanied Max to the paddock, the cheers loud. Last year, was the first time I was here, this year it felt so familiar even though it was only my second time. Max wasn't starting pole but he could still finish first since he was in the front row. The race started off with Max over taking Lando at turn 1. The chance of Max wining his home race for the fourth time seemed more likely. But as the race went on, Max lost his P1 to Lando who kept the distance between him and Max a constant. Making Max finish P2, the way he started. He got out of the car to find me and his team waiting for him. I mouthed a congratulations as he walked towards me. He had tears in his eyes, "I wanted to ask you out as a race winner." he said wiping his tears. My heart skipped a beat; "You can still ask me out" I suggested. "But I'm scared of what you'll say" he muttered. "My answer would be the same, whether you were P1 or P2" I said. "And what's that?" he asked expectantly. "I would love to go out with you, Maxie" I said with a smile and tears in my eyes. Max almost jumped when he heard me, "Go on and finish up. We have a lot to talk about" I said pushing him towards the media pen.
I was waiting in his driver's room just like last year. But this time it was different, there were butterflies in my stomach and I couldn't stop smiling. I found myself pacing around the room, imagining what we would say. I was pulled out of my thought by Max now standing at the door. "Hi" he greeted shyly. "Hey" I replied, sitting on the sofa followed by Max. We sat facing each other, he took my hands in his, "Lifde, I can't believe this" he began. "me neither" I chimed in. "I've liked you for so long, I don't remember a time I didn't like you since I've known you" I continued. Max couldn't help but smile. "I didn't think you felt the same" I said. "I didn't think you felt the same either." He added. "Y/N I really wanted to win this race and ask you out as a race winner." He sulked. "You're already a race winner and a three time champion at that. I couldn't ask for more. Plus I couldn't care less; to me you'll always be a winner" I said. He took my face in his hands, "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly. I nodded. His lips inched closer to mine before they touched, our eyes fluttered close, his lips dry and chapped against my soft shiny glossed lips. Our lips moved in synchrony, tilting our head as we deepened the kiss. His hand trailing down from my cheek to my waist to pull me closer, I was now sat on his lap. I pulled away breathless, our foreheads touching, breaths intermingling, eyes locked; "I love you Y/N" he stated. "I have for a while. I didn't know how to say it. I'm glad not winning pushed me over the edge" "I love you too, Maxie. Can't wait to celebrate your fourth championship" I said. "You think?" he asked. "I know" I said, cupping his cheeks to kiss him again. His hands on my waist pulled me closer, as if it was even possible. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked in between kisses. "Yes" I breathed out as we continued to kiss.
When god sends blessings, it becomes hard to count. I got the man of my dreams and the stepping stone to my career goals.
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scary-grace · 2 months
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blind date (part ii) - shigaraki x reader
After endless failed attempts to help Tomura up his game, his friends have settled on their last resort: A blind date. Even before you show up, it's not going well. No quirks AU, female reader.
Part 1
Part 2
“No.”
“Yes,” you say. You look sort of embarrassed. “Eight times.”
“No way.” Tomura studies you across the table. His eyes feel blurry with exhaustion and alcohol, but he’d prop his eyelids open with toothpicks before he’d let you think he was falling asleep. “I don’t buy it. Two, maybe. Not eight.”
“Why would I lie about this?” You take a sip of a drink. It might be yours, or it might be Tomura’s. There are so many mostly-empty glasses on the table between the two of you that Tomura’s forgotten which ones he ordered. “If anything, I’d lie the other way. Being stood up for eight first dates isn’t exactly a good sign.”
Tomura finds another drink, finishes it, and gives his verdict. “It’s a sign you met eight stupid guys.”
“I don’t think that’s it,” you say. “If it was one person, or two – but eight? At that point it’s more likely that I’m the problem.”
Tomura doesn’t think so. Tomura’s been talking to you for a while. Probably hours. He lost track of time at some point, probably around when he lost track of which drinks were his and which were yours, and there’s nothing about you that looks like a problem to him. Except the fact that nobody else is dating you, and that looks more like a crazy stroke of luck for Tomura than anything else.
Tomura might not be good at this shit, but he’s not naïve. He keeps checking in with himself, trying to make sure his interest in you isn’t just because you’re a woman who’s talked to him for longer than five minutes without looking at your phone. He hasn’t seen you take your phone out except once, and that was to put it on silent. Which was – hot isn’t right, but Tomura doesn’t really have a better word, except nice, which isn’t right, either. It’s not just because you’re a woman who talked to him or held his hand or ran to meet him even though you were late. He likes a lot of other things about you, too.
He likes that you showed up looking the way you actually look most of the time, instead of dressing up like Magne told you to. He likes that you don’t try to pretend to be something you’re not. When Tomura started talking about video games, you didn’t act like you knew something about them – just like he didn’t pretend he knew something when you started talking about horror movies or novels or manga. You’re funny, but not on purpose. Or at least that’s what Tomura thought, until he glanced at your face after you’d said something that made him laugh and realized that it was what you’d been hoping to do.
“Sorry,” you say, and Tomura snaps out of it. “Talking about past dates on a first date is kind of a red flag, isn’t it?”
“I asked,” Tomura says, wondering if you called this a first date because you’re hoping for a second one. You shrug. “If you’ve met that many shitty guys, how come you agreed to this? What did Magne tell you about me?”
“What did she tell me.” You finish one of the drinks and grimace slightly. “Um, she said you were my age.”
“Okay.”
“She said you have a job,” you continue, “and friends.”
“Yeah,” Tomura agrees. “We have an apartment. We were friends before we had the apartment. It’s not just because we have an apartment.”
“Magne said you’ve all known each other forever,” you say. You smile slightly. “It sounds nice.”
It’s a good thing Tomura’s known them forever. He hasn’t had a lot of luck making friends as an adult. The closest he’s come to making a friend as an adult is probably Dabi’s stupid fiancé, and that’s only because he never leaves. Toga keeps saying that she thinks he’ll like her girlfriend, but she also never lets her girlfriend within a kilometer of the apartment. One time Tomura asked her why not and Toga gave him the weirdest look he’s ever seen. “You’re all boys,” she said. “You’re gross.”
Maybe that’s true. Tomura’s never been in a woman’s apartment, so he doesn’t really have a way to confirm. How gross could it be, really? He should probably ask Toga for specifics. “Did Magne say anything else?”
“She said online dating and the apps weren’t really working for you,” you say. “You do better in person. I don’t know what you’re like online, but – I feel like she was probably right.”
Tomura’s face flushes. He finishes another drink to cover it up. “Your turn,” you say. “What did Magne tell you about me?”
“Uh,” Tomura starts. He finds another drink, but can’t quite stomach finishing it just yet. He’s already about to screw this up, and it’s going to be worse if he throws up on you afterwards. “Not much. Just that you were a girl and you were my age and that you agreed to it.”
You laugh at that. “That’s the important stuff,” you say. “She did a good job managing your expectations.”
“No,” Tomura says. You blink. “She should have told me more.”
“She doesn’t really know more,” you say. “I only see her at work. She got my number so I could tell her when I’m on shift and my boss is off.”
“What’s your boss’s deal, anyway?” Tomura asks. “Just an all-purpose asshole, or –”
“He’s not great to us. The employees, I mean.” You don’t like talking about this. Tomura can tell. “But he makes things really hard on customers who have certain prescriptions. HRT and stuff like that. He doesn’t do anything they can report him for, but he makes it so miserable for them that they don’t want to come in to pick their meds up.”
Tomura knows that type. Magne runs into that type a lot. If it happens when all of them are out together, Tomura and the others take care of it, but they can’t be there every second. “A few people have my number,” you continue. “I give them a heads-up when their prescriptions are in and he’s out.”
“Why didn’t she tell me that?”
“She did,” you say. Tomura meant before, and says so. “Maybe she thought you’d think I was too nice.”
Tomura snorts. “That guy who tried to cut us in line didn’t think you were too nice.”
If he’d been by himself, Tomura would have let it slide just because he doesn’t care enough, but you blocked the guy’s way with your arms crossed, and when he told you to move, you stared at him until he backed off. “Okay, so not too nice,” you say. You pick up another glass, see it’s empty, and wince. “But if she’d told you more about me, you’d have found a reason not to show up.”
“If she’d told you more about me, you’d have said no.” Tomura feels pretty confident in that, and more so with however many drinks under his belt. “She told you I was bad at app dating.”
“Lots of people are.”
“So bad at it that I’ve never been on a date.” Tomura feels pretty good about one-upping you right up until he sees your eyes widen, but his mouth is way ahead of his brain. “Beat that.”
It’s quiet for a second. Tomura stares at you, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment, while you peer into glass after glass, trying to find one that hasn’t been emptied yet. “I don’t know,” you say. “I think being stood up eight times is worse.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“My record is terrible,” you say. You find one more glass and drain it. “Your record, on the other hand – you’re one for one. I’d say that’s pretty good.”
“One for one on what?” Tomura asks.
“Dates,” you say. “This one’s going well.”
“Yeah?” Tomura’s mouth goes dry. He looks around for a glass with something in it, so that he’ll be able to speak without swallowing his tongue, but he comes up empty. You slide your water glass across the table to him and Tomura gulps half of it. “You think it’s going well?”
You looked pretty calm until he said that. Tomura sees you getting nervous. He slides the glass of water back across the table to you in case you want to drink it, but you leave it alone. “I mean,” you start, “we met up at five-forty-five, and it’s almost last call. Maybe it’s just me, but I wouldn’t spend eight hours hanging out with somebody if it wasn’t going well.”
“Last call?” Tomura says, like a dumbass, only for the bartender to shout it out to the room at large a few seconds later. “Eight hours? Really?”
You nod. “So either it’s going well,” you say, “or you just didn’t have anything better to do.”
If Tomura doesn’t want to be somewhere, he goes home even if there’s nothing better to do. He’d rather spend hours watching the most boring vintage simulation game streams in history than spend two seconds longer being social than he wants to. Eight hours hanging out with one person is a record, even once Tomura subtracts the bathroom breaks he had to take because he was dumb enough to break the seal four drinks in. Has he ever spent eight hours doing nothing but talking with someone without getting bored? No. Not even close.
“It’s going well,” he says, and you look relieved. Not happy, just relieved. That’s – not good. “They’re kicking us out now.”
“Yeah.” You get to your feet and stagger a little bit. You probably drank at least as much as Tomura did, but you’re shorter than him, and you’re a woman. Are you okay? “I’m going to go pay. We should figure out rides home. The trains don’t run this late.”
Tomura fucked up somehow. He can’t figure out how, but he’s pretty sure he did. But you’re still about to get kicked out, and somebody has to pay the tab – and somebody has to figure out how you two are getting home. He gets to his feet, too. “I’ll get it. It can’t be that much.”
You look back at all the glasses on the table. “I think it’s going to be a lot. We’ll split.”
Even with the split, it’s more than Tomura’s spent on a night out, ever – and the longer he spends upright, the clearer it is that he’s trashed. You’re trashed, too. Maybe less than he is, because you’re still trying to work out how to get home. “It’ll be cheaper if we split a rideshare,” you say, and hold out your phone. “Put in your address.”
Tomura forgets his own address for a second. Then he types it in, and you take your phone back. “Okay. It’ll drop you off first, then me. Let’s go.”
Tomura follows you out, only weaving a little bit, and then the two of you are on the sidewalk again. The air’s still warm and humid, but at least there’s more of a breeze than there was before. You lean against the boardwalk railing and Tomura copies you. He leaves one hand open at his side in case you want to reach for it. You don’t, so Tomura goes for yours instead, and you look up at him. “Tomura?”
“It’s going well,” Tomura says. Your eyes slide away from his, and he asks a question that’s been on his mind since an hour or so in. “Want to do it again?”
“Stay out until two am on a work night and blow five times my hourly rate on drinks?” You shake your head. “Go on another date? Yeah.”
Tomura hears all of that in the right order, except the thing in the middle that he actually asked about. “It’s a work night?”
“For you, too. You said earlier.” Your hand moves in Tomura’s, unfolding your fingers to lace them together with his. “We should have called it quits four hours ago.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to.” Tomura shouldn’t have had this much to drink. He’s saying stuff he probably shouldn’t. Or should he? He doesn’t see the point in lying about shit on a regular basis. Why start now? “I still don’t.”
Next to Tomura, you take a deep breath, then let it go. “Okay. Give me your phone.”
Tomura fishes it out of his pocket with his free hand and passes it to you, then has to take it back to unlock it. He watches as you navigate to his contacts and add yourself to them – your first name, plus the words “blind date”, like Tomura’s going to forget who you are. How many women do you think he has in his phone? You hand it back to him after saving your contact and Tomura waits for you to hand yours over so he can add his number to yours. You don’t. “I need your phone. You need my number.”
“If you text me, then I’ll have it,” you say. “If you don’t, I won’t need it.”
Tomura feels weird about that. “Is this some kind of test?”
“I’ve gotten stood up eight times. I’m done chasing after people who don’t want me.” You loosen your grip on Tomura’s hand, like you’re giving him the chance to let go. “I ran sixteen blocks to meet you. You can send me a text.”
Tomura can see where you’re coming from. Sort of. The rideshare shows up, and the two of you slide into the backseat. Going from standing up to sitting down gives Tomura some kind of drunken headrush, and he slumps sideways against you. “Sorry –”
“It’s fine.” You shift around in your seat until Tomura’s cheek is resting on your shoulder. You’re still holding his hand. “I don’t mind.”
Tomura doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but the next thing he knows, the rideshare’s coming to a stop outside his apartment building and you’re shaking him awake with the hand that was holding his. “We’re here,” you say. “It was nice to meet you, okay? I had a really good night.”
Tomura nods. His mouth tastes like something died in it, and his mind feels foggy, but not so foggy that he can’t figure out how he wants to say goodbye. Maybe you know. “What do we do?”
“How about a hug?”
Sounds good. Tomura’s mouth tastes too bad for kissing, anyway, and his lips are gross enough to make you wish you’d never met him. He reaches out and drags you awkwardly across the backseat and into his arms, and you – fit. Tomura normally hates touching people, and he hates it even more when he’s drunk, but you fit, still and quiet with your head tucked in against his shoulder and your eyelashes brushing the side of his neck when you blink. Tomura could go back to sleep like this, easy. He’s having a hard time keeping his eyes open.
“Hey,” the driver says from the front seat. “Are you staying or going?”
“Are you in a big hurry or something?” Tomura pulls away from you with an effort and gets out of the car. The door shuts behind him, and Tomura turns to say goodbye, but he’s too slow. All he gets is a glimpse of your face through the window as the rideshare drives away.
Tomura should text you right now. The thought occurs to him, but then a mosquito bites him, and he slaps it a second too late. He’ll get inside the stupid building and get to his room, and then he can text you. It’s a good plan. Whether Tomura will remember it by the time he gets to the apartment is an entirely different story.
Tomura and his friends live on the top floor. The entire top floor. It used to be a penthouse, back when both the building and the neighborhood weren’t shit, but now the rent is cheap enough that the seven of them can afford it together. They all get their own rooms, three bathrooms is usually enough for everybody, and usually there’s at least one person who’s willing to cook dinner and let the rest of them mooch. Tomura and his roommates all keep weird hours, but by two-thirty in the morning everybody’s usually in their rooms, even if they’re awake. He’s not going to bother anybody as long as he’s quiet.
Or at least that’s what Tomura thinks. He’s dead wrong, because when the elevator doors open, he finds all the lights on in the living room, and most of the people he lives with sitting in there, wide awake. It looks like they’re waiting for something. It occurs to Tomura with slowly dawning horror that they’re waiting for him.
He makes the first move out of shock more than anything else. “What the fuck?”
“We decided to wait up for you. Since it’s baby’s first date and all,” Dabi says with a smirk. His stupid fiancé is here, too, perched on the arm of the chair Dabi’s in. “So how’d it go?”
Tomura doesn’t want to talk about this when he’s drunk. He wouldn’t want to talk to Dabi about it stone sober. He shakes his head. “Come on,” Twice announces from where he’s sprawled out on the rug next to Toga. “Nobody comes back from a date at three in the morning and gets to shake his head about it. Spill. No, don’t spill! I don’t want any nasty details.”
“I want all the nasty details,” Magne says. “What happened?”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t quiz him,” Sako says from the other chair. “Shigaraki will tell us what he wants to, when he wants to.”
Sako is officially the only person Tomura’s not pissed at right now. “No, he has to tell us now,” Toga says. “We’ve all been working on this for a month. We have to hear how it went!”
“Give us at least a few details,” Dabi’s idiot fiancé says. “We need something to base our wild speculations on.”
“You don’t live here,” Tomura says. Dabi glares at him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Wait, it was bad?” Spinner runs the opposite way with it. “Why didn’t you just come back? Or you could have called us – we’d come drink with you –”
“It wasn’t bad,” Tomura snaps. “I got her number.”
He was hoping that would shut everybody up. Instead they all trade glances. “That’s it?” Dabi asks, incredulous. “You get back an hour after last call and all you got was her number?”
That’s not all Tomura got. “She said we should go out again. And we held hands.”
“Are you thirteen or something? That’s so lame,” Dabi’s idiot fiancé says. “Was she like, not –”
“She’s not that kind of girl,” Magne says. She reaches over from the couch to punch Dabi in the arm, even though it was the goddamn fiancé who said it. “You think I’d set Shigaraki up with that kind of girl?”
“Yeah, because that’s the kind of girl he’ll be dealing with in Vegas. Did you time-warp back to the fifties when I wasn’t looking?” Dabi grimaces. “You’re supposed to be upping your game. This is a setback.”
Tomura finally gets his feet under him. “No, it isn’t,” he says. “I had fun.”
He feels weird saying it, even though it’s true. He had fun walking around with you trying to find a bar you both wouldn’t hate, because both of you hate when things get too loud. He had fun talking about any of the fifty things the two of you talked about over the course of the eight hours you spent together. He liked seeing you square off with the asshole who tried to cut you both in line and he liked seeing you order the weirdest drink on the menu, even though it was disgusting and neither of you could finish it. He liked that he didn’t notice you trying to make him laugh until it already happened. He liked holding your hand.
Tomura had fun on his date, end sentence. “You guys are assholes. I’m going to bed.”
“We’re not assholes! We want to help,” Twice protests. “You don’t need our help! You’re doing fine.”
“Yeah, I’m with Twice,” Spinner says. Twice starts arguing with him, but Spinner ignores it. “It’s a win if you say it’s a win. Hanging out with somebody who’s not us for that long is definitely a win.”
“It’s not a game,” Toga says. She rolls over on her back and stares up at Tomura. “Are you going to text her?”
Right. Tomura was going to do that. He fumbles his phone out of his pocket. “No,” Dabi and his fucking fiancé say at the same time. Dabi keeps talking. “It hasn’t even been an hour. Are you trying to look desperate?”
“I texted Ochako while I was on the train home from our first date,” Toga says. Toga’s the only one other than Dabi who’s in an actual relationship, rather than a bunch of situationships, friends-with-benefits things, and hookups they block the next day. “I wasn’t desperate.”
“You’re the most desperate person I’ve ever met. But you’re a girl, so it’s cute on you,” Magne says. “It’s not cute on guys. It’s weird.”
“I don’t think it is,” Spinner says. Tomura adds Spinner and Toga to the list of people he doesn’t hate right now. “Sending a dick pic or begging for nudes would be desperate. Just saying something is – nice. I’ve never had a date text me the same night before. I wouldn’t mind.”
“In that case, your date would be a girl,” Magne points out. “Cute when girls do it. Weird when guys do. I’d know.”
Tomura lost the plot a few sentences back. “I wasn’t going to send a dick pic. I don’t even have a dick pic.”
Dabi’s fiancé wheezes. “What?”
“Okay, that’s enough!” Toga pops up off the floor. “Tomura-kun has work tomorrow and so do I – and so does Spinner – so we’re all going to go to bed.”
“We are?” Spinner asks, then yelps as Toga yanks him off the couch. “Hey!”
“That’s right,” Toga sings out. She grabs Tomura’s arm, too, and Tomura barely manages to avoid getting yanked off his feet. He stumbles down the hall after her, colliding with Spinner a few times. It’s all he can do to keep ahold of his phone.
Toga’s bedroom, Spinner’s, and Tomura’s are all along the same hallway, sharing the same bathroom. Once they’re in the hallway, Tomura plants his feet. “Why are you kidnapping me?”
“We’re not kidnapping you. Your room is right there.” Toga points, like there was any way Tomura was going to forget. He’s drunk, but not that drunk. “They were being mean. I’m happy for you. So is Spinner. Right, Spinner?”
“Like I said. A win’s a win.”
“It’s not a game.” Toga elbows him. Then she looks at Tomura. “They’re making it sound complicated and it’s not. If you like her, text her. If you don’t, don’t. Easy. Now go to bed.”
It’s not a puzzle game. It’s a yes or no question. Tomura likes that a lot better than whatever the hell the others wanted him to do. Still – “Do I need a dick pic?”
It’s quiet for at least a minute. “You know what,” Spinner says finally, “we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. I’m with Toga. Go to bed before you get yourself in trouble.”
Tomura’s tempted to tell them both that he’s doing it because he wants to, not because they’re telling him to, but then he decides not to waste the air. The sooner he goes to his room, the sooner he can send you a message without everyone bothering him about it. He shuffles back to his room, flops down on the bed – which he didn’t make this morning, because he’s just going to get back in it later – and pulls out his phone. When he taps the contact icon, the first thing he sees is the contact you set for yourself.
Your name (blind date). Tomura opens a message and gets stuck trying to think of what to say. Short is probably better. His mind is off on some weird paths right now, a lot of which have to do with you and his dick and all of which would be a lot more of a problem if he wasn’t still drunk. And none of which you need to know about. You also don’t need to know about the ambush his friends set up for him when he got home. Or the fact that Tomura’s friends only sent him on this date so he could get better at women before the trip to Vegas in two months.
That might have been why Magne set you and Tomura up, but that’s not why Tomura’s texting you. this is tomura. i want a second date. That gets the point across for sure. If you texted Tomura that he’d count it as a win, so he sends it. But Toga said it’s not a game. Spinner said it would be nice to get a text from a date. What would Tomura want you to say, if he got a text from you?
Tomura overthinks it. He overthinks it so hard that he falls asleep, and only wakes up when he drops his phone on his face. You haven’t texted back yet, but it’s only been fifteen minutes since he sent the message, and you’re probably asleep. What kind of text would Tomura want to see from you when he woke up in the morning? That you liked him. That you had fun. Maybe you’d say something funny, too. Tomura doesn’t do funny. He almost falls back asleep again, then hauls himself up to wakefulness hand over hand, sitting up in the bargain. One more message. It should be easy.
sorry I fell asleep on you is what Tomura says. He barely manages to plug in his phone before he falls asleep for good.
He wakes up to his alarm howling, right on schedule. He can hear Spinner’s alarm doing the same thing from across the hall. Tomura’s mouth tastes like he threw up in it in his sleep. He fumbles for his phone to hit snooze on the alarm, but in the split second before he does, he sees a text notification. Everybody he texts has been asleep for the last – Tomura looks at the time and groans – four hours. So who –
Tomura unlocks his phone at warp speed and taps the message icon. He remembers texting you last night, but he didn’t remember how stupid he sounded. Sorry he fell asleep on you? You’re probably texting him to fuck off. Tomura glances down at your message. His head hurts badly enough that he has to read it five or six times to process it all the way.
You gave his first text a thumbs-up, then asked what he wants to do on the second date. But you replied directly to his stupid second message. it’s okay. next time it’s my turn.
Tomura’s lips split as an uncontrollable grin crosses his face. He got four hours of sleep. He’s got a full day of work and a hangover to go with it, and the instant he sets foot in the living room, his friends are going to start up on him about how he’s handling this all wrong. But Tomura must not be handling it all that badly, because he’s got a second date, and for a few seconds, the hangover and work and everything else doesn’t matter at all.
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alessiasfreckles · 8 months
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fasching (georgia stanway x reader)
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you've had a crush on georgia for a few months after meeting her at a party in munich. now it's fasching, and you're determined to show her the intricacies of the german holiday - i.e. getting drunk.
warnings: alcohol, fluff
a/n: wanted to write something about georgia and fasching/karneval since, y'know, it's fasching (which is a german holiday at the start of lent where everyone wears costumes and gets drunk, basically)! short and sweet x
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“Well, can I just wear the dirndl I wore for Oktoberfest again?” Georgia asked, frowning. 
“No!” you exclaimed. “You need a real costume.”
“What if my costume is an FC Bayern footballer?” she grinned.
“That’s not a real costume. Or at least, it would be if it wasn’t just basically your work uniform,” you said, rolling your eyes. You got out your phone and started swiping through pictures. “Look, one year I went as a cat. Oh, this is when I went as a clown- but, like, a sexy clown. Ugh, this one year we walked in the parade with my grandad’s political party and they were going as sewage workers for some reason? I was like, 13. I was so embarrassed.”
“So it’s basically like Halloween except with a parade,” Georgia said, an eyebrow raised.
You shrugged. “Kind of, but don’t let anyone hear you say that. Germans take Fasching very seriously. Oh, and if anyone tries to tell you it’s called Karneval, ignore them. It’s Fasching.”
“Right,” she nodded slowly, arms folded. ���I still don’t really get the point.”
“Do Germans really need an excuse to get drunk and party?” you asked with a grin, and the English player laughed. “Nah, I think it’s to do with lent, but no one really cares about the origins.”
“Oh, like pancake day!” she said, brightening up.
“Oh! Yeah, I guess. I forgot about pancake day,” you shrugged.
“How could you forget about pancake day? It’s the best holiday.”
“English holidays are weird.”
She hummed. “So, what are you going to go as this year?”
You thought for a minute. “I’m not sure yet. Usually it’s something sexy, because if you can’t pick up girls at Fasching when can you, you know?” you said, not meeting Georgia’s eye. You’d had a crush on her since the two of you had met at a party a few months ago. You had hit it off instantly. Since you were half English and had lived there as a child, and she was new in Munich, meeting another English person felt like a breath of fresh air. 
She laughed, cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What d’you think I should go as?”
“Hmm,” you tapped a finger to your chin, eyeing the footballer. “Well, it depends. Do you want to be hot or funny?” 
Now her cheeks were bright red. “Uh, I dunno,” she said, laughing nervously. 
“Well, we could do a costume together, if you want. That’s a little more fun than just by yourself,” you suggested, and she nodded eagerly. 
------------
By the time Georgia found you at the parade, you’d already had a drink or two and were decidedly on your way to feeling tipsy. 
She saw your costume before she saw you. The two of you had spent a while deliberating on what to wear, going back and forth between ideas, before finally settling on Tom and Jerry. You were going as Jerry (although you felt more like Karen from Mean Girls), wearing a grey dress and mouse ears, and Georgia was wearing a cat onesie, with a nose and whiskers painted on her face. 
Seeing your mouse ears from across the busy street, she hurried over to where you were waiting with your friends. 
“Gee!” you exclaimed when you saw her, pulling her into a hug. “Hi!”
“Hey!” she said, cheeks pink, and nodded to your friends, who were all eyeing her curiously.
“Aha, also sie ist die Fußballerin, in der du schon seit Monaten verknallt bist?” one of your friends said, looking Georgia up and down.
“Klappe!” you said, glaring at her. 
“Was? Sie spricht doch eh kein Deutsch, oder?” the friend asked. 
Georgia wasn’t sure what you and your friends were talking about. All she really picked up was ‘Fußballerin’ and ‘Deutsch’, so she figured it was about her. Feeling awkward, she tapped your arm. 
“Hey, um, I can head out if you want to hang out with your friends a bit,” she suggested, making your heart drop.
“No, no!” you insisted. “They’re being rude. I’d rather hang out with you anyway. I’ve been to plenty of Faschings with them before, this is your first one! Come on, let’s go. Tschüss, Leute.”
Your friends whooped and whistled as you left, making you roll your eyes. 
“Sorry about them. I swear they’re really nice, usually. They’re just protective of me,” you explained. “And I’m sorry about the German - they do speak English, it was rude of them not to.”
“Protective of you? Do they see me as a threat?” Georgia laughed.
You shrugged, cheeks pink, not wanting to say that they knew about your huge crush on the footballer. As you headed into a big square filled with people, you quickly changed the subject.
“Okay, so, rule number 1 of Fasching: bring your own drinks,” you told her, pulling a bottle of premixed juice and vodka out of your bag. “There’s places you can buy them, but they’re always super expensive and watered down.”
Georgia nodded seriously, listening intently. “I’m not really meant to be drinking, but I think I can make an exception today,” she admitted, smiling. “At least, I know a lot of the other girls are. I didn’t bring anything with me, though.”
“That’s okay!” you said brightly. “You can share mine. Rule number 2 is don’t get lost. There’s so many people that it fucks with the phone signal, making it impossible to contact people if you get separated.”
She bit her lip, frowning, and you took her hand in yours. “Just keep holding my hand and we’ll be fine!” you said with a grin. Normally you wouldn’t just take her hand like that, but the drinks you’d had were starting to take some effect, giving you a confidence boost. 
“Okay,” she laughed, blush rising to her cheeks. “Any other rules?”
“Hmm, not that I can think of,” you said, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay? I know it’s a lot of people.”
You squeezed her hand and she nodded, taking the bottle from you and taking a swig. You cheered her on, and when she gave you the bottle back you took a drink as well, trying not to think about the fact that your lips were where hers had just been. 
“Ready?” you asked, eyes sparkling.
“Ready.” 
-----------
2 hours later, you were well and truly drunk, and Georgia wasn’t far behind you. You had watched the parade for a while before getting bored and wandering around together, giggling about people’s costume choices. After an hour of trying to squeeze through the masses of people, you decided to cut through some back alleys, and had ended up staying in one of them, drinking and talking.
“Usually I don’t really like Fasching,” you admitted, hopping up to sit on a brick wall and swaying slightly, holding out your hands to steady yourself. “Woah.”
“Careful,” Georgia giggled, putting her hands on your waist to help ground you. “Why not?”
“Too many people,” you said, voice slurred, waving a hand towards the noise of the parade, which you could hear streets away. “Too loud.”
“That’s fair,” she nodded. “I don’t really like crowds either.”
“What!” you exclaimed. “Why did you come with me then? I wouldn’t have taken you if I’d known. Fasching is awful if you don’t like crowds.”
“Because you asked me to,” she said simply, smiling at you. “It’s not so bad with you.”
“No?” you asked, blushing. You realised Georgia was stood between your legs, her hands still on your waist from steadying you, making your heart flutter. 
“Nah,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s, I dunno, easier with you.”
You smiled widely at that, taking another drink from the nearly empty bottle to try and hide how hard you were blushing. 
“Hey, what was your friend saying, before?” she asked, wondering whether you were drunk enough to tell her.
“Oh, that,” you said, rolling your eyes, any kind of filter you had gone. “She was asking if you’re the footballer I’ve had a crush on for months.”
You clapped your hands over your mouth when you realised what you’d said. Georgia’s eyebrows were raised, a look of surprise on her face that was quickly replaced by a teasing smile.
“And, am I?” she asked, hands tightening a little on your waist. 
You swallowed, trying to think of something clever to say, but the alcohol was making it hard, especially when all you could really think about was the feeling of her hands on your waist and the fact that she was stood between your legs, close enough to kiss you. 
“Maybe,” you said, biting your lip. 
“Oh, just maybe?” she asked, all the alcohol giving her a boost of confidence. She watched your eyes flit from her eyes to her mouth and back, and leant forward slightly. 
You nodded shakily, heart racing as she leant towards you. She paused just short of your face, giving you space to back away if you wanted to, but you leant in enthusiastically, your lips meeting hers. 
You were a little too enthusiastic, your mouths bumping into each other, making you both giggle and pull away. Georgia was undeterred, and cupped your face with one hand, steadying you, before leaning in to kiss you. 
She tasted sweet, like fruit juice and alcohol, her soft lips perfectly melding against yours. You gasped when her tongue swiped against your bottom lip, and she took the opportunity to kiss you deeper, the hand that was still on your waist moving to your back to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, jumping when you felt the soft onesie. 
She leant back. “You okay?” 
“Yeah, I just forgot about the onesie,” you admitted with a laugh. “Wasn’t expecting it.”
“You mean, the cat costume isn’t doing it for you?” she asked with a wink, and you wrinkled your nose. 
“I mean, the costume is cute and all, but if I’m honest, I think you’re the one doing it for me. After all, you are the footballer I have a crush on.” you said, making the brunette blush. The painted on nose and whiskers were smudged slightly from your kiss, and you giggled at the sight of her. 
“What?” she asked. “Is there something on my face?”
“Nah,” you shook your head, and pulled her in for another kiss.
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bitchlessdino · 1 year
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okok i'm here for a request
wonwoo as your coworker who you've been having an office romance with - which you have been taking as a joke. everyone thinks you'll get together, and you play along with that. but wonwoo is very serious.
so late night booty call from coworker!wonwoo? or maybe drunk dial to wonwoo and the aftermath the next day (fucking in the office)
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Pairing: wonwoo x afab!reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 3.9k
tags: office au, feturin bartender!chan and coworker!mingyu, mentions of alcohol, exhibitionism, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, pet name
author note: hi bee ily bee, you're messed up for this bee. but im worse for producing it gdjgwkjg. anyways enjoy wonu rot
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @wonuhour @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro
Wonwoo is a handsome guy and it was clear as day to everyone in the office. You like having a bit of his attention. He’s funny and quite friendly with you, but that is perhaps because the first time you met you had the courage to fight with him over the last jam-filled donut in the break room. Since then, there’s never not been a reason to talk as if you’ve known each other forever.
You admit some of the socializing you’ve been having with Wonwoo is more than what you do with any other coworker, let alone friend, but you were just playing along and it was too late to go back. Besides, both of you know what this is. All this talk was simply harmless flirting, playful jokes, and lively banter. You make it clear at the end of it all that there is nothing between you and Wonwoo, that things are as platonic as two subordinates can get.
You can’t say the rest of the office believes that though, seeing as so many of them with jealous glares in your direction or the nudges from the suspecting coworkers that ‘lowkey ship’ you two together as if you were some characters in television. 
“Ugh, you two make me sick. Just get together and have beautiful children already.”
You and Wonwoo shared a harmonious chuckle together, one louder in humor and it wasn’t the man dashing in a silk silver necktie.
“I wish I could, but they like to sleep on the left side even though I also sleep on the left side and I don't know how that would work,” Wonwoo knocks against your shoulder
“Not to mention he likes cats way more than dogs and the fact that we could never really be together because we’re just good coworkers.”
“Right,” he lightly punches, indicating agreement. “It’d be a really bad idea if we were actually together.”
You raise your brows, almost offended. “Woah, woah. I never said it was really bad.”
“But you were thinking about it.”
“Lover quarrel I hear?” Mingyu butts in after getting his morning joe. “They’re always at it at this time of day.”
You roll your eyes at the giant. “All I’m saying is. I and Wonwoo are good together at work. Just work. Dare I say he’s a good work husband, even if he steals the last of the pastries—“
“Will you ever let that go—“
“No—and that’s all there is everyone. Sorry to disappoint.”
The crowd gives their share of snide smirks before dispersing. Mingyu is the last to stay behind, a Cheshire smile on his face. “Sure, you two. Just keep your hands to yourself around here…if you can help it.”
You were about to throw a light kick at the man before he started scurrying off, leaving you and Wonwoo in your lonesome as always. 
“They mean no harm by the way,” Wonwoo points out, “but if it bothers you that much, I can tell them to lay off.”
“Nu-uh,” you reply, shaking your head, “and make me look like a buzzkill? I don’t mind the back and forth. Just don’t anyone get the wrong idea that our jokes are actually serious?”
“Yeah, because it’d be just awful to be caught dating someone like me.”
You groan at his choice of words. “That is not what I said. Stop putting words in my mouth. This is why we wouldn’t work together.”
Wonwoo shrugs, a smile on his face that truly does brighten up a whole room. God, no wonder people think you’re dating him. What single man smiles like that? “Alright, sweet face. Fine. Who cares what they think? We know left from right, okay?” There’s a hint in his tone that says otherwise but you decide to ignore it.
“Okay, good. Anyways, what are your plans tonight? Up for another night of Valo queue?”
“I actually have plans tonight.”
“Oh?” You say wiggling your eyebrows. “Hot date?”
“Maybe? Haven’t met them yet.”
You’re playful expression fades. “Oh, actually? Wow. You must be…excited.”
He shrugs, freshening up his mug. “It’s nice to have plans outside of binge-watching TV at home, so a little bit.”
Your smile can’t seem to reach your ears until you’ve found a way to find the humor out of it. “That sounds nice. I wanna be set up—Wonwoo don’t you have any hot friends?”
Wonwoo feigns thought, clicking his tongue, now noticing the watch on his wrist. “Well, would you look at the time? Back to work.”
You sneer at him leaving you unanswered, following after him to continue the rest of your day. This is how most days went. Outside of work, you shared your personal interests with him, such as video games—perhaps adding to the assumption that you both seem very couple forward—but otherwise, that was all. There was nothing else that made you more than people who work in close proximity together, and not by your own fault either.
Despite this dynamic, Wonwoo is a private person and you only know what he lets you know. Perhaps, that’s why you are so dead set on keeping the formality the way it is. Who knows the type of person he is behind doors?
You try not to be curious about him for the sake of your circumstance, but the thought of Wonwoo and his date stays in the back of your mind, pestering you like an insect well into the afternoon until after work. That’s when you decide to hit up the local bar, grab a drink—or 5–and catch up with your favorite bartender, Chan, to see what he’s up to. He’s normally a good distraction, seeing as he can talk circles around any subject while jumping from one to the other, and you think it starts to make you forget why ever you came in the first place.
However, ‘drunk you’ does whatever the fuck they want, even if ‘sober you’ says otherwise. You seem to forget that every time you go out, perhaps because you think you’ve overcome that part of you after a while of not drinking. Truth was you haven’t.
“Hellooo…”
The dial tone plays on the other end and you continue your incessant greeting until you’re met with a familiar and confused sound. You automatically grin, clutching the device close to your ear in hopes of hearing his voice again.
“Wonwoo…are you and you having fun…”
You hear shuffling in the background, unaware it was Wonwoo checking caller ID to make sure it was you. “Are you doing okay?”
“Me? I’m great…how are you bud? Buddy? Companion? Bestie?”
“Okay. Where are you right now?”
You chortle, glancing back at Chan who is preoccupied with other customers but watching you from the corner of his eye concerned. “Hehe, I’m with a friend. A very handsome friend…”
Chan lets out a light chuckle before finishing up the drink and handing it to the person waiting. He strolls out to you, listening in on the rest of your call as he pretends to clean up glasses.
“Handsome friend?” Wonwoo repeats.
“Very handsome.”
You aren’t sure what’s going on with you, but you feel the urge to simply narrate everything around you, making sure the man on the other line hears every word. 
“Is there a reason you’re calling me, Y/n?”
You hum against the phone in pondering. “Just…because. It’s you.”
“Me?”
“You.”
Chan lightly scoffs at the scene, almost seeing the pink in your eyes as you speak to whoever is on the other end and politely asks for your phone. You pout at him, denying him the device, but with a stern look, you melt into mush and soon obliged.
“Hi, you must be Y/n’s friend right? They’re at the Carat Club right now and it looks like they’ve had enough to drink.”
Wonwoo hums into the phone before responding back cautiously. “Are you the handsome friend?”
Chan grins hearing the hint of jealousy. “Why yes, I am.”
“You don’t sound that handsome.”
“Well, you can judge for yourself because I’m also the bartender here. If you aren’t too busy, I’d really appreciate you getting them home. I’ll keep an eye on them but I can only do that for so long with the rush we’re having.”
There’s a moment of silence on the phone that makes the young bartender think the calls have dropped until the gravelly voice on the other end begrudgingly agrees, quickly hanging up right after. 
Chan sets the phone back to your side, doing what he’s promised to do. After some time, he recognizes Wonwoo right away by his frantic arrival and the bartender waves him over. Wonwoo scans your current state with a frown creasing his eyes. He tries shaking your sides, and see how little effect it makes.
“How much have they had to drink?”
“A couple of cocktails but by how early they’ve gotten here I assume they haven’t eaten. Best to take them home before it goes right through them.”
“Thanks,” Wonwoo, picks you up by your limp arms and supports your side in the direction of the door. When he’s out of sight, he quietly curses to himself about the accuracy of the bartender’s appearance before settling you in his passenger seat.
His goal is to get you rested and safe. Seeing as your driver's license is doctored from the city several hours from where they are, he assumes it is in need of an update, and tries to pry your address out of you. To no avail, nothing useful comes out from your drunk slurred lips and he ends up taking you to his home, dumping you on his bed, and tucking you in. 
You don’t remember anything after the third drink: making that call to Wonwoo, or the debacle of trying to get you home, or his persistence in climbing up the flight of stairs in his own home with the extra body weight. You can only assume the worst when you wake up the following day in a foreign bedroom; your internal alarm was clock accurate as always. You jump from the sheets in pure fear, scanning your surroundings for an owner, when you realize you still have the clothes you wore to work the day before.
Promptly, Wonwoo walks towards the bedroom you occupy from the wide open door and greet you, a smile on his face. “Good, you’re up. Work is in an hour, I’ll get you there.” “Wonwoo, where am I?”
“My place. I would’ve taken you home if you had been more cooperative.”
It takes your eyes some adjusting but you soon realize the lack of clothing on his body, warranting the smooth, broad, and muscular appearance of a Jeon Wonwoo you wouldn’t dare dream of. You gulp at the sight taking it in before hearing him chuckle as he crosses his arms to obscure the view, forcing your eyes on his face that was bare of the thick pair of metal frames you are used to. Instead, you see his eyes, overflowing with warmth you worry you’d stumble upon seeing them. “Extra bathroom at the other end of the hall. I can lend you a shirt.”
“T-thanks.” You say before he disappears in order to get ready for another day.
You quickly finish what needed to be done, taking advantage of the oversized shirt Wonwoo left you behind and somehow making it work. Soon enough you’re off to the office, in his passenger, only time sober and a lot more self-conscious.
“Did I do or say anything weird?”
He lets out a deep, familiar chuckle. “Depends. What’s your definition of weird?”
You try thinking of an answer but none would come up, having you change your mind about getting his prompt response.
“If it’s any consolation, you didn’t get sick like I thought you would, and you were mostly asleep.”
“That just means I was a mess,” You whine.
“Perhaps, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Wait, what about your date? Don’t tell me you—“
“She canceled and I had nothing going on. You called at a good time.”
“I called you?” You question him in bemusement.
“Like I said, nothing I couldn’t handle.”
His repeating that phrase does something the chemical in your brain, retracing the dents of his torso as if they’re right in front you, glistening against the sun rays peaking out of the windows. The smile on his face makes your heart pound a little harder than you’re used to, and now you’re noticing the veins on his hands as he grips the wheel.
You feel yourself swallow. Hand to heart, you pat down as if trying to manually regulate it, but ultimately fail as Wonwoo continues to speak. This must be the embarrassment talking.
“For a second, I thought you called me to confess your undying love for me or something.”
“What?” You ask laughing a little too hard, for once grasping the humor in the situation with difficulty. “Why would you think that?” 
“For one, you were drunk. It seemed likely.” He clears his throat, trying to focus on the road. “And maybe that’s what I wanted to hear.”
Those words settle into you like hot cement, frustratingly slow, and before you finally answer, you’re already back at work, following Wonwoo as you leave the car. When both obviously arrive together, the usual attention has multiplied by tenfold, and the treatment feels different than normal. More flustering a suffocating after the night you’ve had. Wonwoo is the only one to notice as he calmly escorts you to your cubicles, leaving the questions of your coworkers unanswered.
You aren't sure why they’re comments are getting you like this now, making you feel hot, hands clasped against your cheeks like a bashful child, but it bothers you throughout the day, forcing you to keep mostly to yourself. Its then Wonwoo, sends you a note, meeting him for lunch alone knowingly while everyone else planned a meal out. You hesitantly oblige to his request and when the time came around, it’s unexpectantly timid, awkward, and nerve-wracking. That’s not how monets with Wonwoo are supposed to go.
“You’ve been quiet.”
You bow you head. “Sorry.”
“Why are you being sorry?”
“I didn’t think I was bothering anyone.”
You don’t see it, but he rolls his eyes.“Well, you were bothering me. Talk to me, joke around with me, be mean to me I don’t know. The silence is annoying me.”
“...I’m sorry.”
“Apologizing again? Look at me.”
It was difficult given the predicament you’re in, but he forces you to anyways by lifting up your chin between his fingers. You watch a dark storm brew in his eyes and now you can’t bare to tear away.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”
You don’t get it. For the past year, you’ve known him, there's only ever been amicable looks or gregarious smiles at a maximum, but in the deep pit of your stomach bubbles a new sensation that has finally festered enough to rise to the surface. You clench your legs in instinct, eyes fluttering back at him as you let each breath take a slow turn.
Intuitive as always, Wonwoo sees that shift in your eyes. It’s disturbing, daunting, and tempting all at once and he decides he can’t take it anymore.
With the break room wall behind you, he pushes you against it, claiming your lips and body until there is no way of escaping. His lips are soft against yours, but moves languidly and impatient, and the grip of his hands on your hips drains the energy out of your lower body. You attempt to chase his vigor, hands against your neck as you suppress your moans at how he kneads your flesh through your slacks only to press your thigh to his side.
“So I’m what’s wrong?” He asks in a low rasp against your lips.
You naturally hold him by the back of his neck, his nose nuzzling against yours. Wonwoo feels your lips part to speak, but he is in a daze by how soft they felt only seconds ago. “You are far from what’s wrong,” you finally answer.
Ridding of inhibitions and doubt, Wonwoo opens the storage closet behind you and shoves you in to lock you both inside. His hands run up your body needily, desperate to taste the skin underneath the shirt you’ve borrowed. You help him undress the same way he does to you, and your pristine pressed Van Hausens fall near your feet like rubble.
His lips then fall underneath your chin, trailing your neck, he refrains from leaving too much pressure but is almost swayed by your natural scent mixed in with his shampoo. He roughly plants you against a mostly empty shelf, the ice cold metal somehow burning your skin. He helps you tug off your slacks finding that sopping cunt that’s been dying to have him discover them since this morning.
“For me? Just for me?” He wastes no time shoving his hand down the frail fabric of your underwear and gliding his thick digits over your wet slit. “I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself this time.”
Your voice reveals itself, saying his name in a way you wouldn’t dare let another person hear as long as you lived. He repeats the action, watching you crumble in front of him like award-winning cinema.
“I never heard you speak like that to me. I could get used to it.” He find your ear, his cat-like smile forming before his lips closes around your skin and his whispers cause the ripples of chills down your spine. “Say my name like that again for me, darling.”
You tremble under his touch, feeling his fingers dip into your heat enticingly. “Won…wooo…”
He lets out a soft and gentle moan, and the heat of his breath fans your pebbled skin. “Such a pretty little thing. I’ve dreamt how you’d be like this for me so often.”
“You…have?”
He presses a lingering kiss on your neck. “More than I can be proud of.” He curls his digits before taking light jerks, his thumb rubbing your arousal around the circumference of your clit. He drinks in your pretty pants, teeth grazing back at your skin. “You like me touching you? Aren’t I being such a good work husband?”
Your eyes screw shit, mouth etching open to give him a well-deserved praise, “So goo—“
“Where are my keys,” a voice breaks outside the door.
Wonwoo seizes his fingers from you and clamps them over your mouth, your arousal basically coating your lips and his eyes staring back at you intently.
“Where did they go anyway?”
Wonwoo shushes you with pursed lips. “Better be quiet.” His tone is stern but his actions say otherwise as his zipper comes down in a fraction of a second. “It’s in our best interest not to get caught, right?”
His name muffles under his palm, squeezing the life out of your cheeks as he exposes the bulging cock that’s been fighting away at him since he kissed you. Your eyes dart in their direction, beading perspiration across your forehead, and you feel yourself clench around nothing as his cock draws closer to your fluttering heat.
Your eyes double their size and then shrink to half the size once he’s inside you. His raw, long heat pushes into your core inch by inch, and you feel the necessary evil to bite down his palm. If Wonwoo was bothered by it, he doesn’t show it as he claims you with deep strokes, having your hands rest against his firm pectorals in reluctant trust. His low grunts can only be heard by you and the slight fog in his glasses is apparent the closer he thrust into you, even in the dim closet lighting,
Outside these walls still is a confused Mingyu, not foreseeing the event occurring behind a door mere feet away. “Maybe, they went somewhere else for lunch.”
You audibly squeak within the tight space and Wonwoo shushes you again, knocking back into with a curt but harsh slam before forcing your walls to hold his cock inside you like a natural plug. “You’re gonna get us in trouble, darling. I’m not done with you yet.” An accumulated thrill runs through your veins at the thought of being caught, taking every thrust with pressure and liquifying at the devious smile on your rumored boyfriend’s face. 
“No they’re not here,” the intruder says to a voice unheard from their distance. “…Coming!”
His footsteps noticeably scan the perimeter once last time before they retreated further and further away.
“Finally,” Wonwoo breathes out, “now I have you all to myself.” Although he states that, he doesn’t let go of your mouth, in fact, you swear his hand is getting tighter and now his face closer, finally processing the spearmint on his breath “We should still be careful. Can you be quiet for me?”
You quietly nodded, grasping at his body desperately, gesturing for him to keep going.
He scoffs. “My darling being impatient?” He pulls out almost his entire length before shoving back into you, earning a feeble tremble. “My. Cock. Making. You. Needy. Hm?”
You nod back at him, holding back your tears, nails digging into his shoulder blades.
“Eyes on me, darling. Your work husband is need of your attention while I fuck you senseless.”
Shallow breaths escape your nostrils, finally meeting his eyes, which seemed to have lost the thick barrier of his glasses somehow already set on the shelf behind him. “Would you like for me to cum in you?”
You gingerly nod.
“Will you listen to everything I say when I let go of your mouth?”
Like a glitch, you nod the same exact way.
“Such a good little darling.”
His cock fills you up as naturally as breathing does. While his lips are home against yours, tongue entangling to the point it becomes sex itself. Your hushed moans are music to his ears and bear motive as his cock plunges deeper and harder inside you. He doesn’t mind how you bit his lips, nor how your nails drag against his back, rather he revels in it, doubling over you to push his cock inside you deeper until you're unable to contain your screams and he’s forced to silence you again.
You whisper how you’re close and it’s a natural drug, encouraging him to only ram inside you and claim the sweet sound of your orgasm coating decadently around his cock. He handles it rather gentlemanly, fairly as his cock is next to ripple in climax, shooting his thick over churned honey until it fills your heat until the point of fully occupancy. His arms come around you in a firm grasp, bruising your lips until you’re imprinted with the memory of him. 
You let out light pants, awkwardly thanking his promptly done tasks before you’re whisked away again by his perfect, salvia-sheened lips. “That was very…superb.”
Strange adjective but it’s done the job, you think.
“I’m glad you think so,” he chuckles in a way that tells you things are far from over and you’re proven correct when he brings up your legs, thighs crushing his cheeks that splays the most impish smile. “But we still have 15 minutes of our lunch and a man’s gotta eat.”
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spngi · 2 months
Text
My tears ricochet | mafia!carlos sainz jr x reader
Prologue | part 1 | part 2 | Part 3| Part 4 |part 5| part 6
Part 7
summary: Mr. and Mrs. Sainz lived in a dream for many years, now everything is falling apart and they need to deal with their feelings
warnings:Grammar mistakes, mentions of violence, Carlos is an idiot, mentions of cheating, sexual content, angst.
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I watch the man lying on my bed, Carlos is in the same position as the night before, breathing high and I can smell the alcohol of perspiration infesting the room. I open the curtains and windows and let the sun enter along with the breeze to clean the smell of the room.
The man doesn’t move, still too drunk to wake up and I know that an infernal hangover awaits him.
“Wake up” I pinch the skin of his shoulder and he just murmurs leaving me with no patience. “The phone doesn’t stop ringing and if I have to solve any other problem with ports and tax I’ll throw the phone at you, carlos”
He just grunts, opens his eyes slowly and regrets it immediately.
“Good morning,” he murmurs, hoarse voice.
“Good morning” I approach him and extend the cup of coffee with the medicines for him.
“What’s going on?” I watch him scratch his eyes and face me, his eyes stopping when he sees the green nightgown I’m wearing.
It was good to provoke Carlos, even more after everything he told me yesterday, it was good to leave him desperate the same way he left me. The green piece was just a good detail to add to Carlos’ punishment.
“That idiot from the Port of Brussels does not stop calling, I have already solved the situation but it seems that he is too incompetent or just can’t stand to receive orders from a woman” I murmur to Carlos “me and Charles are solving this, but your accountant is also calling to talk about taxes, and we have to leave in a few hours for your cousin’s wedding preparations.”
“I can just...” he breathes, closes his eyes. It’s a lot of information for his head exploding and I could even laugh if I was in the mood. “Lay down for a while? Lie down with me, let’s forget all these calls”
This time I can’t help laughing, Carlos’ words funny enough for my state of mind. As if nothing had happened, as if that was his way of fixing things.
“Get up, Carlos! We still have to pack our bags” I murmur to him, leaving towards the closet.
“You look beautiful in green” his voice resonates groggy around the room.
“I know”
...
It’s strange to share the joy of creating a bond from a new family when mine was falling around. Although I still didn’t know exactly what to do, and the presence of carlos behind me wherever I went like a shadow left me stunned, the word divorce kept returning to my mind.
Maybe it was time for me to give up after all.
The excitement of being with the sainz family, the effort I had in buying the best wedding gift that this couple could receive, the joy in the eyes of the bride for knowing that she would soon carry the surname sainz as well. None of this was able to cheer me up, and I felt like an intruder taking off the luck of the couple.
I had once read in a Lima Barreto book the following phrase “we did not understand each other, their joys were not mine, my pains were not even perceived” and I never felt so represented.
Carlos seems to want to surround me, fill me with his attention, with his affection but that only makes me more uncomfortable, because I know that morning he didn’t choose me when he received that phone call, didn’t even think of me twice or doubted that I had done that. I think I could only really get over it by hearing him apologize, real apologies as an adult man and not that drunk show he gave the other night.
The shared hotel room becomes small enough for me, suffocating with the presence of Carlos. And the game of teasing each other ends up becoming a fierce trap.
I regret having started this game the moment I realized that I couldn’t get away from Carlos here, miles away from our house sharing a normal size hotel room. So every time I showed up before getting dressed or just in a towel after the shower I needed to hear him begging so that he could have me or just touch me, and for most of the nights I need to sleep frustrated with all the words and promises that I don’t let Carlos fulfill.
It is on the night of the rehearsal dinner, the day before the morning of the wedding that I let myself be defeated, maybe if I just let things flow I would feel better, I would remember what it was like to have a happy marriage and Carlos has always provided infinite amounts of pleasure.
I wait for Carlos to get out of the shower, sitting on the end of the bed, watching the TV passing an old movie, waiting and hoping that Carlos will continue begging tonight and don’t leave me a desperate mess today.
When he finally appears in only sweatshirt pajama pants and watches me, sitting, wearing only the old Real Madrid t-shirt of Carlos that became my pajamas a long time ago.
“You’re beautiful, I don’t get tired of saying that” he speaks, hoarse voice and body leaning on the door stop. “Please, cariño! Please let me show you how much I appreciate you, that I love you”
His voice comes out desperate and when he calls me cariño I can’t avoid the chill crossing my body. He realizes and takes the opportunity to get closer to me.
“Please” he whispers, kneels in front of me, brown eyes never breaking the contact, his hand is content to hold my ankle and kiss the area there. “Let me just be with you again, prove you, please I’m begging”
“Why did you do this to us?” I ask him, the same foot he holds I use to move his body away from mine.
“Because I couldn’t see you grow up and be like me,” he admits, “And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, I know that words will never fix this but I want you to know that I will do everything for us”
I loosen the strength of my leg against him and let him get closer.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks.
“Don’t make me regret it” I murmur to him who doesn’t waste time, the big hands pull me by the waist and the mouth joins in mine. He is desperate and anxious after so much time away and provocation.
Carlos’ hands explore the sensitive skin under the t-shirt, the light touch of his fingers making me more anxious for him, pulling the black curls of his soft hair in the form of retribution. He takes the T-shirt off my body in a single movement when he separates the kiss, his hot mouth going down kisses around my neck, lap and letting himself play with my nipples, his teeth rubbing on the sensitive skin, he is still kneeling between my body, his hands holding my waist keeping me still with his grip, delivered to him.
“Carlos” I call his name, lust flowing from my voice.
“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll take care of you” he murmurs, his mouth slipping through my body, one of his fingers caressing the already wet fabric of my panties and I hear him moan along with me when he realize that I’m already like this at his slightest touch.
I kiss him again, my hands firm on Carlos’ back probably leaving nail marks, he bites my lip and I moan, my panties going to the ground in a quick gesture coming from him, his right hand playing with the proximity of where I want him the most.
He separates the kiss, arrogant smile on his face before bending down to where I need him the most, leaving small kisses on the sensitive skin of my thigh and getting even closer, and when he arrives in my pussy I let myself lay my body on the bed, my breathing already heavy with the slightest touch. Carlos’ mouth explores my intimacy, my feet resting on his shoulders, one of his hands squeezing my chest while the other focused on provoking my entrance with his fingers, his tongue leaving me a mess crying out for him and after all this time I didn’t know if I was still prepared for all the pleasure that carlos could provide.
He devours me like a hungry man, making me squirm in the hotel bed, my hand trying to cover my mouth to stifle the unnecessary amount of moans coming out of it. Although Carlos had a provocative nature, today he had no patience for this, he wanted to catch up on lost time, leaving my high getting bigger and bigger, and the closer I get the more I move.
“I need you to stand still, mi reina” he murmurs, his head tilted up slightly, his mouth swollen, his thumb making slow and torturous circles on my clitoris. And all this vision makes me moan even more his name, he laughs and uses both hands to hold me against the bed, the strong squeeze in my ass. He continues his exploited, knowing that I wouldn’t last much longer that way, the way I pull more and more of his curls leaving him alert of how close I am.
He continues with slower movements even after realizing that I finally came, my head is in an eternal wheezing due to the pleasure I felt and when I open my eyes I slowly observe Carlos, now standing on the end of the bed watching the work he did, he licks his lip and then his fingers and only this action makes me squirm in bed.
“God how I missed you” he murmurs still standing.
“It was you who put yourself in this position” admirably I still have the strength to answer.
“I know, and I regret it every day” he puts one of his knees on the bed and leans over to my body, his hand caresses my disheveled hair “I will never be able to be grateful enough that you insisted on me”
I know that his words are true, I see in the back of his eyes the emotion this time, it is exciting at least to know that he is opening up to me again, to know that I can read his eyes as before and not the icy astonishment he stared at me in recent months. But, again, the memory of knowing that I didn’t put myself in this situation, that I wasn’t my husband’s first choice makes me nauseous. Then I pull him again for a kiss, more delicate this time, without all urgency and hurry, just showing each other’s devotion.
Not even after the four hallucinating orgasms and the most intense fuck I’ve ever had in one night, and after sleeping like a little angel, full of endorphins and in Carlos’ warm arms I wouldn’t be prepared for what would come next. Even after the morning sex, intimate and slow, full of caresses and whispers, declarations of love spread everywhere. I still wasn’t prepared for the weeding day.
I didn’t know I wasn’t prepared for the wedding ceremony, I didn’t know I would feel terrible at every step.
When I joined the bride for the preparations, and I looked at her, wondering if maybe the future that awaited her would be like mine, I wonder if I forgot some tradition during the wedding for it to have lasted so little, Carlos had never seen the wedding dress I wore, I wore a veil, I had a wreath on my head, I had my new piece, an old one borrowed and I had the blue too, I did all the right things and I still envy the innocence of the future Mrs. Saiz in front of me.
I laugh when they comment on how lucky I am, and how the men of the sainz family have the motto of being gentlemen and romantic and I imagine that mine certainly came with a factory problem.
The worst part is the ceremony, and my tears that I can no longer hold mix with those of the other guests who cry with emotion. I watch Carlos on the other side of the altar, next to the other godparents of the wedding, he smiles at me. He doesn’t understand the real reason I’m crying, his eyes seem nostalgic and maybe he’s remembering the day we got married, how he cried when he saw me at the altar, how my dress made me absolutely angelic as he repeated so many times on that special day, how we couldn’t help but smile with the realization that we were finally married.
My heart breaks with every word prophesied by the priest, with every vow I hear the bride and groom speak, with every good memory I had and was destroyed.
“I carlos oñoro sainz, receive you, Maria, as my legitimate wife. I promise to be faithful, love you and respect you. In joy and sadness, in health and disease, in wealth and poverty, for all the days of our lives. So receives this alliance as a sign of my love and my fidelity” the groom recites the vows, the most sacred laws of a marriage and I can only think of how they were all broken.
In how there was no fidelity, support and unity, in how Carlos and I managed to ruin everything, to break something so sacred.
I feel suffocated in the pink dress that matches that of the other bridesmaids, I clean the controlled tears that run down my face before I become a mess.
And it didn’t matter the way Carlos held my hand during the reception, or how he danced romantic songs with me and made slow and passionate love to me at the end of the night, I was already decided when I left that church.
I just didn’t imagine that it would be at a wedding that I would decide to end mine.
We are coming to an end 😭
I don’t know you were waiting for this or what your bets for how things will end but let me know, I love receiving your opinions and I can’t post nos because it may contain spoiler lol 😂
Thank you all ❤️❤️❤️
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fantasylandloser · 9 months
Text
Attention pt.2
Warnings: 18+, dry humping, kissing, premature ejaculation (hot, right?), uh sorry?
pt. 1
*******
When Daryl’s patrolling shift is over he’s too tired to go to the bonfire, instead he opts for his cell, knowing that you'd come and find him when you’re done. He falls asleep before you get there, waking up to the sound of you shuffling around.
You’re obviously trying your best not to wake him, but he’s a light sleeper nowadays. Your movements are also clumsy, probably due to the alcohol that was passed around and even though you only drank a little, he knows you’re a lightweight and you’re no longer used to the feeling. 
“Daryl.” You whisper, into the dark. Something you did to avoid startling him when moving around in his space. He grunts, still hazy from drowsiness, but slightly alert in the way you have to be at the end of the world. 
You say nothing else after his acknowledgment, climbing onto the cot with him. You only slept on the same bunk with him the week all the others came to the prison from woodbury. You were not good with strangers and part of you wanted to cling to Daryl for some sort of comfort. You in your drunken state must have been looking for the same thing.
Daryl allows you to climb over him. He can tell there was an attempt to be more on his side but the prison mattress only allowed for so much space because of that you’re directly on top of him. Not that either of you mind. He places an arm over your back trying to get you to stop moving once you finally get comfortable, lets you place a soft kiss over his stubbled jaw before the two of you finally let the exhaustion claim your bodies. 
You wake up before Daryl, but you don’t move in hopes of him getting well deserved rest. He only sleeps twenty minutes longer and it takes you both a while to acknowledge the other out loud, but you enjoy the peaceful moments of breathing in sync and legs intertwined. 
“Last night any fun?”  He asks, voice still thick from sleep. You hum out a yes, your thumb brushing over his bicep as you try to think of any reason to keep him there. You settle for just asking when you don’t find one, knowing how quick he usually is to get up and find something to do. 
“Can we just lay here a little longer?” His hands run up your sides as he sighs a little. 
“Someones gonna come lookin’ for us in a bit.” He doesn’t make any moves to leave though. Enjoying your softness against him, compared to the usual harsh realities of the world. 
“Did you talk to Mark?” He can’t help the resentment in his voice.
You groan at the memory of the conversation. “He saw us kiss.” And even though you’re not looking at his face you can feel that he’s smiling. 
“S’not funny. He was upset. I feel bad.” Daryl rubs his hand over your back to comfort you but he’s still smiling. 
“Thought you said you weren’t with em’” You can practically hear the smugness.
“I wasn’t, I think he just got the wrong idea.” You defend. He hums, knowing you probably gave him the wrong idea..
“What’d you tell him, heartbreaker?” You flush in embarrassment before mumbling your answer that's barely coherent. 
“That m’yours.” He feels your cheek warm against his chest.
“Damn right.” His confirmation only makes you flush deeper.  You try not to smile too much. You fail. He feels it against his chest, before he sees it when you turn your head to look in his direction. 
“Can I kiss you?” The angle of your lips places you so close to his and you can practically already feel it. You ask so softly, like you think he’ll tell you no.
“You better.” You’re both smiling when you press your lips to his, so softly at first that he barely feels it. Until you do it again, harder. You’re damn near devouring him after about two seconds  and he lets you. When you go to release him he pulls you back into him, switching the two of you around on the cot so that he can be on top of you.So that you can’t leave him.
He’s slotted himself in between your legs in the midst of it all, making you stretch them wide. Kissing you once again on your lips before he lets them go long enough for you to breathe air that isn’t his. Kisses you twice more along your neck and you’re so soft. Daryl tries to think of the last time he’d been touched like this, and even before the infection it had been a long time. 
He loses himself to touching you, so quickly he doesn’t even realize it's happening. That is until he feels the almost foreign feeling of pleasure in the pit of his abdomen and he finds himself bucking against you. And it drives him crazy because you’re just in your underwear, those girly panties that pretended not to like. And you’re so soft. Much softer than his fist and he knows you’re strong but you’re so small in his arms, pliant under his lips.
You hear someone moving in the cell next to you and you remember that you need to be quiet, but as you work to silence your moans Daryl’s pants get louder. He’s worked himself to the point that his thrust against you gets sloppy. You try to kiss him to silence him, but he is so damn loud that you blush thinking of who might be hearing him. 
“Shh.” You murmur, but you can’t bring yourself to stop him because he needs this. You need this. You need him close. You need his warmth, You need him.
“Baby,” You start and he groans at the name, his hips stuttering, he swears, pressing more kisses into your mouth. He feels immediate shame at him cumming in his damn pants like a teenager, but he takes one look at you and he knows you couldn't care less. He plans to make it up to you regardless, already kissing down your stomach. 
Rick interrupts that plan with clearing of his throat and his head peaked into Daryl’s curtain, obviously more than pleased with himself. “Daryl, whenever you get done with this, we’ve got that run we’re supposed to go on.” His southern drawl did absolutely nothing to hide the amusement he was feeling. 
“Alright, get out.” Daryl tells Rick grumpily, after the swift reminder of his responsibilities. Rick nods the smile on his face, unmoving. He leaves after telling you good morning, just to fuck with Daryl. Your flustered face gives him even more of a kick and the both of you hear him chuckling outside the curtain as he walks away. 
“I’m sorry. I gotta-” He’s cut off with a kiss. 
“Don’t be sorry.” You smile and you look so sweet that he has to kiss you again and he feels like he’ll never get enough. 
“I’ll make it up to you, yeah?” Another kiss, on his cheek this time.
“You better.” You say, even though you don’t think there’s a thing to make up for.
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