#custom watches with logo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

periprose · 9 months ago

Text

Sweet as Nuka Cola

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader

You're an upcoming actress who has a constant flirtation with Cooper Howard. But even if things seem to be off to a good start, a nuclear bomb, a cryogenic pod, and two hundred years of carnage ruins all of it. Is there something to be salvaged from your relationship with Mr. Howard?

Genre: Mutual pining, flirting, slow-burn, angst, friends to kind-of enemies to lovers (no cheating but maybe it's a little murky?)

Word Count: 11k

“Action!”

“Hello. Yes, it’s me.” You wave at the camera, adorned in a classic-red sweetheart neckline dress. “You might know me from ‘Girls Want It All’ or ‘Next Door Babe.’”

Here, you play up your recent bombshell status. As Ed, the director of this advert, keeps reminding you, you need to sell yourself to make customers listen.

You sway in your dress, squeezing your arms and throwing your waist back to plump and push out your chest. The implication of the sex appeal in your movies keeps people watching.

But you’re still a rather new actress, so America might not know you so well. You’re glad Nuka Cola has hired you– if you want to be a star, you need more exposure.

“Do you enjoy feeling refreshed?” You cock your head to the camera, pursing your red lips. “Well, golly, what a silly question. Who doesn't?”

“That's where Nuka Cola comes in.” You lift a bottle out of the cooler next to you, all gentle in demeanour, showing off the logo of the bottle to the camera, in your perfectly manicured hands. “With triple the amount of caffeine found in competitor's bottled cola, it's sure to keep you feeling up for a long, long time.”

“And it's good for you.” Ed whispers, a last minute adlib you did not agree to, but you're a professional, so you add it on with a little wink.

“And it sure as heck is good for you.” You smile, the infamous smile that's won you notoriety to Hollywood execs for being the newest bombshell on the block, and you throw your shoulders back as you really lean into your image.

“Cut! That's a wrap, everyone!” Ed, wanting to finish early, quickly starts ushering everyone out so not a cent more gets spent.

You immediately relax out of your practised, professional smile. “Any ADR needed?”

“Don't think so, but we'll let you know.” The director is already moving onto whatever his next project is. Advertisements make more money than anything else these days.

You head over to catering, where you're craving– not a Nuka Cola, considering how much sugar is in that thing it's hardly refreshing at all– but an iced tea.

You stretch out your ankles in your kitten heels as you prepare it. If you told your Ma back in Mojave that the worst thing about fame would be the uncomfortable outfits, she'd smack you. So you keep it to yourself– you're grateful, you're humble, you'll never be an entitled asshole like those fucking execs.

“Watch out, I'm behind ya.” A man gently presses your shoulder as he walks next to you.

You know that voice. Famous movie cowboy, devilishly handsome, easy to admire. A career worth emulating.

“Mr. Howard?” You turn to look at him, and it is him. Wearing a tuxedo suit, smiling his classic, rugged grin at you.

“The one and the only.” He laughs in a self-deprecating way, as a man tired with his fame and used to mocking it. “Hey, wait, don't I know you?”

You immediately feel your face heat up. “Probably not– lots of people have mistaken me for Lucky Yates so far…”

“No, I do know you.” He points a finger at you, while pouring himself a mug of black coffee. “I told you mister, I'm not here for a long time. Just a good one, and if you can't provide it for me, I'll be inclined to look elsewhere.”

Cooper Howard does a perfect impression of your girly, haughty tone from “Girls Want It All”, and it surprises you that he even knows your dialogue that well. You're not used to this much attention, especially not from one of Hollywood's most notable movie stars.

He says your name.

“Yeah, that's me.” You say sheepishly– even though you know you have to fake that confidence, it's hard when you've been caught off guard. You're starstruck– you don't know how to operate, now realizing that even celebrities are noticing you. “Just shooting an ad for Nuka-Cola.”

“Ah, that’s smart of you.” He leans in– about to give you a bit of Hollywood advice, no doubt– and you feel yourself turning warm at the attention he’s giving you. “I wouldn’t expect any less from one of Hollywood’s upcoming stars– residuals aren’t enough to make the world go round.”

You know he’s admiring your street smarts, but you have to ask. “Upcoming, really?”

“Miss, I’m not sure many other actresses could’ve delivered that little monologue I just did without, er, pardon my language,” Cooper takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes peering down at you over the perimeter of the cup. “Fucking it up. Pantomiming too much wily, feminine shit that execs love, without that little edge of real, subtle emotion. I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

You giggle a little. “C’mon, really? I hardly got to act the way I wanted to.”

“That’s how it starts. Little moments, little subtleties where you’re letting your real character shine through– it’s noticeable to the industry. More opportunities come that way. But it’s smart to use, uh…” Cooper swallows, a tiny, imperceptible thing that reminds you of your bombshell image, that he must be thinking about it. “Smart to use such attractive imagery, if you get my drift. The public will eat you up.”

The way he drawls that latter part makes you feel excited, but you keep it down– it’s well known Cooper Howard is a married man, and you are not about to be ruined by an affair. Even if he does sound sort of flirty, this sort of complimenting is so common in Hollywood.

“What are you doing in the advertisement shooting lot?” You ask, changing the subject, and Cooper shrugs, a nonchalant ripple of a movement that tells you his general cool demeanour isn’t just acting.

“Promised my wife I’d shoot an advert for her. Vault-Tec, you know?” He admits, telling you he hasn’t forgotten about his wife, either. “Gotta head to the experimental Vault they’ve set up next door.”

“Yes, of course.” You, like anyone else, have seen the ads of Cooper in the Vault-Tec suit– it’s a rather controversial thing to be partaking in, but you think he knows what he’s doing.

“Well, Nuka-Cola.” He hands you an iced tea– one you didn’t even notice him making for you as you were talking to him. “I’ll see you around.”

The Ghoul walks around the wasteland, two hundred something years into the future.

He’s searching for a bounty– Leopold St. West– worth at least 1000 caps, and it’s terribly difficult to find him when every single person claims he’s in all these different locations, not a single one correlated to each other.

So he’s walking around a destroyed neighbourhood, where Leopold was last seen a day ago, if his fellow ghouls are to be trusted. If he had to guess, these are the remnants of China Town– the faux Asian-esque details, the cheesy red colouring, the false authenticity Hollywood loves to portray as “good as the real thing”. God, Coop does not miss some parts of the fame.

He suddenly stumbles over a piece of the broken sidewalk. Coop’s usually pretty agile, nonchalant on his feet– he knows this feeling. He’s going through withdrawal.

“Shit, I need a minute.” He mutters to himself, feeling a bit woozy.

He's only got a couple more vials of drugs, so he can't be using them all willy-nilly. No, he needs to recoup things and go through this carefully.

Shelter is necessary– the longer Coop is out in the sun, the harsher the effects of withdrawal feel. And, if he’s lucky, one of these buildings might have something for him to loot– more drugs if he’s extra, extra lucky.

Coop enters a nondescript building– where a radroach is waiting, and he immediately fires at it without even looking, killing it in one shot– and he sees the sign over the entry way, marking the lobby.

This is some Hollywood executive-owned club. It’s hard to tell– two hundredyears of wear-and-tear will do that for you– but Cooper Howard distinctly remembers this place, maybe in some conversation back then, maybe when he was networking.

Every single thing has a distinct, thick layer of grime over it. Coop thinks of sweaty strippers dancing, actors cheating on their wives– they’re all probably dead now.

He reaches into his satchel and takes a hit of one of his vials– and hopes he can replace what he uses with something here.

There’s not a single bottle behind the bar, and he jostles through, not seeing a chem or a drug left behind by anyone on the floor or behind the counter, and he’s mildly disgruntled over how every place has nearly everything picked clean by raiders, wastelanders– just other people. Coop will always loathe these other assholes.

He climbs the broken stairs with a lanky, languid stretch, making it over a fairly large hole where a corpse waits on the floor below. A raider who didn’t watch where he was stepping. That tells him there should be loot up on this upper floor– at least a bit of it.

He walks to the one closed door in a less-than-discreet hallway, gold sconces and railings marking the way.

“Ah… private office.” Coop jiggles an ostentatious handle to a mahogany door, that is surely leading to an even more pretentiously ostentatious office, and he finds that it’s locked.

A good sign. Most likely no one’s ever been in there, because it’s probably a difficult lock to pick.

It surprises him that no one’s ever just forced their way through.

Coop doesn’t waste time on this though– he just takes a teeny gun out of his bag, fires it, and admires the hole in the door where the handle used to be. The door creaks open on it’s own, and he saunters into a well furnished, dusty office room.

“Nope, nope, nope…” He pushes box after box in the shelves next to the wall, and they fall with loud clatter– loaded with panicky, nuclear-war-on-the-horizon type shit, like canned meats and beans and preserved jams and pickles. “Fuck no.”

He pushes off a toy figurine of Vault Boy down with extra gusto.

Coop looks behind the desk, where there’s a dusty placard reading Adrian Amos II. He grins– one of the worst producer bastards of all time is not someone he’d feel bad about stealing from, even if there was still some conscience left in him. No, sir, Adrian Amos the second did not deserve any sympathy, especially after the way he was known for bitching about salaries, abusing PAs, and having a predilection for going after less-than-consenting women.

Coop grits his teeth, remembering that asshole and how terrible and gaudy this club was back then. Not that it was better now– but he’s grateful for one man’s deserved death, at least.

He jostles open where the second drawer is filled with the glass clinking sound of many, many vials.

“Fucking jackpot, Jesus.” Coop stares down at how many there are– at least 40 or 50– a hell of a lot to just be left behind.

Well, based on the other supplies, Adrian Amos got fucked over and either didn’t make it to his vault in time, or forgot to run to his private club before heading in.

Coop doesn’t give a fuck, though. He starts piling the vials into his cases, and then back into his bag.

There’s a sudden whirring sound near him. “Huh?”

To his left, an imperceptible secret door has pushed itself outwards, decorated in the same dark brown wallpaper as the rest of the room.

Coop looks down and under– he’s accidentally pressed a secret button on the underside of the drawer. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t know what would be inside the secret room– assassins, raiders waiting on someone to dupe? Maybe even synths, just meant to protect Amos when he needed it.

Inside the room, it’s dark, and he can’t make out anything. Coop can only draw his gun rapidly when there’s a blue light suddenly emitting out from the inside.

He’s careful as he approaches– last thing Coop wants is an ambush– and as his vision improves, he sees it’s a cryonic pod, all frosted over so he can’t make out who’s inside.

Coop sighs, ready to leave it behind– he’s not interested in waking up Amos– and instead, the thing whirs, heating up it’s insides with extremely hot steam, and then opens up with a mechanical flourish.

Coop instinctively steps back, coughing “Holy shit!” as the air whooshes past him.

A body falls out, just looking slightly frosted– mostly thawed by whatever the cryo tank just did.

You're on set again, sitting in a free lawn chair while others get ready for their take– it's not for a Nuka-Cola ad, it's just a guest appearance on everyone's favourite sitcom, The Grady Group, where you play an overly promiscuous babysitter who has no sense for watching over kids.

It's comedic, it's an easy way to get laughs– plus it actually boosts the shows’ ratings since you've been in movies and all. You’re done filming already, you’re just sitting here watching the rest of the shoot, dragging out your return to your car, and then back home.

Something about the fictional family you wait on, Gill and Gina Grady, and their kids Gideon, Gessica, and Gwen, it makes you miss having a family of your own. In fact, you have half a mind to call your mother, despite all the bitching she’ll give you about the things you haven’t done yet.

It also doesn't help that Gill and Gina are a couple in real life– named Arthur and Bea Smith, they really, really are in love, and in between takes they're often canoodling with each other.

You're happy for them, if not a little– jealous, despite the fact that you're not interested in dating anyone right now. At least, you thought you weren't, but you find that lately, when you return back to your apartment all lonesome after a shoot, you feel like something is missing.

“Hey. Nuka-Cola.” Cooper Howard strolls over to where you're sitting, and you smile up at him, covering your eyes from the sunlight streaming through the windows.

“Mr. Howard. Shooting today?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“Not at all. Just lounging around, waiting for my kid.” He sits in the lawn chair next to you, leaning back, crossing one leg over the other. “Janey is on a field trip at a museum next door– I thought I’d kill some time before picking her up.”

“Ah, cute.” You grin. Janey Howard is an absolutely precious kid– she shares her dad’s smile, but has a curious nature that you admire. “Is she well?”

“As well as kids can be at that age, running around all the time.” Cooper shrugs. “You know how it is.”

“Kind of. I actually did used to babysit kids, so I know– they can never sit still or mind their business.” You laugh as Cooper grins.

“So you went method for your guest appearance, huh?” He asks, and you’re mildly baffled.

“How do you know about that?” You squint at him, just being jokingly suspicious.

“Oh, I saw a few clips of your footage. While I was walking over here.” He points over at Stu, the director, standing on the living room set, watching clips on his viewfinder. “Seemed pretty natural to me.”

It almost bothers you that he seems so interested in you and your work, that he always voices support– but he’s well-known for being happily married, for being content in general, unlike you.

Still, better a friend than nothing at all, that’s what you always tell yourself.

“Thanks. But it’s not hard being around kids, is it?” You reminisce being a kid in Mojave, playing with your friends on your street– and then as a young adult, babysitting new kids that still wanted to play with you. “I still sometimes feel like I’m just a kid pretending to be an adult.”

“That never goes away, darlin’.” Cooper laughs, and you blink. “Being an actor, especially, you’re never losing that childhood sense of wonder, you get my drift?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod. “I just don’t feel complete, I guess. I’m still waiting for the moment I’ll know I’m an adult– like maybe if I get married or something like that.”

“Being married didn’t change that for me either. Neither did being a dad.” He winces, and scratches at his stubble. “Just don’t tell anyone I said that, but I think it’s all apart of being a human person.”

Your face turns a little more glum at that, and he wonders what he said that bummed you out. It’s not his intention– he wants to cheer you up.

“What’s with the sad, forlorn, ‘I’m-a-pretty-girl-come-comfort-me’ look?” Cooper utters as he leans in, and you laugh a little but silence yourself, recognizing his compliment.

It’s dangerous to flirt with this guy, this taken man who has nothing to gain but a bit of affection he may be missing, but you see that he knows his compliment had effect anyways– and he definitely likes that.

You just choose to assume it’s entirely friendly.

“I just… I like the thought of having a family.” You suck in air,at how foolish and girly this sounds, hardly the cutthroat businesswoman you need to be out here. “This is stupid, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it isn’t.” Cooper taps his arm rest, thinking. “You’re hurting, I can tell. You got that same pissed off look most ladies get when they ‘don’t wanna talk’ but they’re holding tons of shit inside.”

Damn this guy, you think, but you decide to be honest.

“I just didn’t think it’d be so lonely out here. In Hollywood.” You press your palms together. “Like, everywhere I go, I’m surrounded by classic Americana, the nuclear family– and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m jealous.”

“As a bachelorette, don’t you got plenty of options?” Cooper grins. “I mean, are men not lining up to court Nuka-Cola girl?”

“Ah…” You hum, thinking of dates you’ve had here, settling back in your seat. “I don’t know– it’s cheesy but I want more sincerity.”

“In that case, don’t be jealous, marriage ain’t all that.” Cooper tuts, knowing that you of all people should hear about how it doesn’t complete you. “It’s not perfect, it’s not a magical fairy-tale where everything gets solved, it’s a hell of a lot more work than people let on.”

“Oh.” You knew that, deep down– but hearing it from him really solidifies that for you. It’s a silly dream.

It sounds like he’s speaking from experience, so you quiet down. But you’re not trying to get your hopes up about that or anything.

“And you’re not an idiot, Nuka-Cola. Don’t get into something you’re not a hundred fucking percent sure about.” Cooper clicks his tongue. “If you really feel the urge to suddenly go and play wife with someone, just for me, make sure he’s absolutely worth it.”

“For you?” You raise your eyebrows at that.

“I figure you won’t do it for yourself. Love is blind and all that.” He points at himself. “But if I, as your buddy Cooper, hold you to that? I’ll bet that you’ll vet every single guy.”

“Oh, really.” You smirk at him, your nose scrunching a little. “Is that for my benefit, or yours?”

“Uh…” Cooper is truly caught off guard here. He knows he didn’t intend anything by what he said, but it does feel like… he won’t enjoy the fact that if the next few times he talks to you, continuing become close to you, he’ll have to get the approval of some man.

Some man who wouldn’t even know you as long he has known you. He always likes his chats with you, and there’s an urge inside him not to let you go.

He thinks again that you’re a little too spontaneous. Not easy to dupe, no– he can’t just flirt with you for fun because you’ll always pick up on it, even if he did it by mistake.

“No comment.” He finally answers with a raspy, low tone, one that you barely hear but are satisfied by.

A few months later, you check your face in your little compact mirror before stuffing it in your purse and heading inside Sebastian Leslie’s home. Exciting, yes, because this is the first time you’ve been invited not just to network, not just because a big name has seen you in the movies and wants to flaunt that they know you tangentially.

No, this is the first time you know someone, you’re actually in with a crowd– you’re friends with the host. You don’t feel nearly as awkward walking into Sebastian’s comfortable home and seeing familiar faces that you’re close with, decor that you already recognize.

“There she is.” Sebastian greets you with a tight hug– for a massive flirt he’s actually rather protective of you sometimes. “Love the dress, by the way– is that a vintage Chanel? Black is very flattering on you, my dear.”

You get the sense he didn’t want you to be involved in this industry sometimes, but other times– he likes that you put work in.

“I saw your newest advertisement on TV yesterday.” He comments, and you giggle.

“Was it good?”

“Yeah, amazing as usual– but you gotta do more than that.” Sebastian holds your hand as he pulls you into the crowd of other low-level actors, people who could risk showing up, really, and you fix your dress, a black one with a low square neckline. “Look into Vault-Tec– I’ve been telling Cooper here about how our futures are totally going to be surrounded by their products, even though that fucker does not want to listen.”

Cooper’s lounging in a low sofa in the pit of this living room, holding a crystal glass full of amber liquid, black button up shirt half open– he looks dishevelled, hair slightly askew, jaw off-kilter as he presses his tongue into his cheek, thinking. Lost by something, but still put together as celebrities are. Geez, you really need to temper your attraction to him.

It doesn’t help how he looks at you, either– there’s something deep and reverent about his gaze, like he wants to believe whatever he sees when he’s looking at you– but you have no idea if it’s real, or if it’s just an act like with most of these celebrities.

You used to see him a lot more frequently too, over the last few months. Either at set, or at more fancy parties– most of which he’s been perfectly pleasant and kind to you.

“Of course you’d label me as some fucking chairman for them, Seabass.” Cooper slams back half a pint of whisky, and pours himself some more. “Hey, Nuka-Cola.”

“Hey, Mr. Howard.” You smile gently. You’ve heard about his divorce– everyone has, but you’re not 100% sure why it’s happened, why now when things seemed to be going so well for him.

Well is relative, though. You know loads of actors have decried him privately– no one wants to hang out with the man promoting the end of the world, apparently. It must be a tough thing to only be hired for your wife’s advertisements– and even then, you don’t exactly agree with what they’re marketing, either.

You don’t feel so strongly against Cooper, though. Maybe because you do like him– but also because you know what it’s like to have your image connected to something you don’t really promote. Nuka-Cola isn’t healthy, it’s got enough sugar to induce instant death when drank regularly. But you do it for the connections, the money– and you’re sure Cooper did too.

“Cooper is fine.” He grumbles, and you remember his last name is maybe a sore subject right now.

“Sorry.” You do your best to be delicate as you sit next to him, and Sebastian sits on the other side of you. “How’re you, Cooper?”

“Not bad. If you count being divorced as being alright.” He sighs, and you feel terrible that you even asked. “It’s like I never knew her, man– I thought Barb was different. Or they changed her, I don’t fucking know.”

“She had her eyes set on the prize. As did you, Coop.” Sebastian states, and Cooper turns, affronted.

“We’re all interested in money and glory, Seabass. Fuck you if you think otherwise.” Cooper tenses, and you feel a bit awkward listening in on this conversation.

“What did I say that negates that? I’m as money hungry as they come.” Sebastian shrugs. “I only meant that– despite it all, making money was what you had in common, evidently not the world-going-nuclear shit. Maybe you’ve got a heart of gold, a change of mind, I don’t know, Cooper. But throwing away an easy life just to pay alimony must be fucking awful, so I just don’t think you’re in it for the money anymore.”

“You’re fucking telling me.” Cooper sniggers. “I don’t think Barb cares. I’m here with no career, and she’s out there getting promoted in Vault-Tec. As for the heart of gold… any former marine would’ve been against that shit.”

You want to ask what shit, but you don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You get the general fear of nuclear war– but Cooper sounds more personally affected by it.

Cooper glances over at you. “What do you think? Better to be richer than you can spend in a lifetime, or to be out with a good conscience?”

“I don’t know if I’m that interested in money.” You say honestly, and Cooper raises his eyebrows.

“Really? Nuka-Cola’s a saint, huh.” He chuckles– he’s clearly a bit buzzed.

“No, I’m not. Of course I want to have a career.” You think about this carefully, so it doesn’t sound insincere. “Making money is nice– but I don’t think I have the right to say it should come at the cost of human lives. You know Nuka-Cola is terrible for you, right? ”

Cooper stares at you for a moment too long, and then looks away. “Yeah… addicting.”

He’s definitely not talking about Cola, but you continue on. “Yeah, so just in that way– I disagree with how much power marketing has. We’ve convinced America that they need this– just so some chairman can make an extra dollar.”

Cooper looks at you, renewed by whatever you just said. “Hell, woman after my own heart. That’s damn true.”

“Yes, yes, you two oblivious flirts– there’s no art in filmmaking anymore, just commercialism. Not like it hasn’t been the case for a century.” Sebastian chimes in, and you bite your lip, pretending not to notice how Cooper’s face is smirking bashfully. “But, babe. You’re going to want to make your money before the world fucking ends.”

“What’s that?” You startle, and Cooper laughs sardonically at your surprise, while Sebastian gets up.

“Let me get myself a drink– I hardly want to tell this story sober.” He leaves, and Cooper has half a heart to glare at him– he knows Sebastian is leaving the two of you alone so he can do the dirty work.

Not like his reputation can ever get better, especially by telling this story again with it’s lurid details, but at least it doesn't hurt that he's with you.

“What does he mean by that, Mr. Howard?” You wince at your use of that. “Sorry– I meant Cooper.”

“Ah, call me what you’d like.” Cooper takes another sip of his drink, leaning back in the couch to the point where he is practically lying down and against you. “It sounds good coming out of your mouth no matter what you pick, Nuka-Cola.”

Now that’s a suggestive, loaded line, and you feel a little more comfortable flirting with him even if it’s a bit of a rebound for him. The end of the world is approaching, right?

“The end of the world?” You prod at him, and he sighs, leaning against your shoulder.

“It’s fucking ridiculous, what it is… probably never going to happen anytime soon.” Cooper’s tone of voice is hazy as he examines his last sip of whisky in the glass. “No, no. Just something those fucking commies put in my head. I guess they’re not really commies, are they?”

“Unless you elaborate, I can’t say.” You utter back at him, and he pushes down a smile.

“Alright. Vault-Tec’s been selling this nuclear protective stuff, right?” He says, and you nod, your cheek brushing against the top of his hair. “All I can say is that a few… radicals, if you will, think that Vault-Tec might actually be more involved with it than they say. Like, they might be…”

“Not just protective, huh? More offensive? Everyone’s got that feeling, Mr. Howard. And that doesn't sound like a particularly commie-train-of-thought to me.” You hear the sorrow in his tone, even if he’s trying to make it sound like a rumour. “Did you hear this from your ex-wife?”

Cooper winces here. He still feels slightly guilty about spying on her. A part of him thinks they might’ve not divorced if he hadn’t found out– but he knows he was bound to find out eventually, and he would’ve just delayed the inevitable.

“Maybe, Cola. Maybe you’re just sharp.” He whispers, and you smile and he feels it– your skin is intoxicatingly close right now.

“So, odds are?” You ask, just curious, and he exhales.

“Bad. I have to agree with them.” He admits, and it feels exhilarating to admit this– that Vault-Tec is gonna nuke the world at some point, that the radicals are more like minded to him than he’s wanted to believe in the past. “Even if it didn’t cost my movies, I regret partaking in what they were selling.”

That’s a big thing for him to say– you know Cooper loves acting, he absolutely adores playing a hardened sheriff, the last vestige of goodness in the wild, wild west. All the times you’ve visited him on his set– probably during his last contractual movie, now that you think about it– and he was always so excited to show off the architecture and intricacies of the fictional western town they’d set up, share script details and little character quirks so you could have an insider’s viewpoint. He even donned his cowboy hat on you, saying you wore it like a natural.

He loved being the hero, really.

He lights a cigarette, and takes a puff.

“Most big-name connections refuse to talk to me because of this stuff– I’ve basically been dropped out of phonebooks all together. They think I’m still in on it, they think I’ve only stopped because of backlash–” He stops as you begin to scratch his scalp, still leaning against your shoulder, but getting progressively into your neck area.

Jesus, that feels good. He thinks. He hasn’t been intimate in a while– Barb became increasingly more cold to him over the last few months, as their marriage kept falling apart.

“Backlash, really?” You whisper.

“Yeah.” He stutters for just a moment, because your eyes are peering into his, and for a moment he thinks you could really make it as just a bombshell if you wanted to– then he takes another puff. “When really, I was just backing out of what I thought was really a massive crime against humanity.”

“Are you only telling me this to validate your poor conscience? Remedy that reputation a little?” You ask, and he presses his lips together.

“Well, I'll be honest, yeah. Of fucking course I'd tell the one woman who seems to be like me on this.” He sounds so certain of you, sounds so sure that you're on his side.

And you absolutely are.

“The world’s about to end, Mr. Howard. You're not a bad man for not wanting to support it. I'm inclined to agree.” You inhale deeply, and Cooper stares at you– something stirs inside him as he does.

“Kiss me, then. Humour me– since none of this will matter soon.” Cooper murmurs, lying on top of your chest now, the smoke from his cigarette enveloping your face.

He’s so close you barely have to move to oblige to what he’s said– you're second guessing yourself for just a moment, because it feels like a dream that he'd ask you to do this, so out of the blue, such a picture perfect fantasy that you almost don't care about the impending doom, and you press your lips gently to his in an upside-down kiss, his hair brushing against your open cleavage, but Cooper is insistent and leans upward, kissing you with such intensity that your head is spinning afterwards.

God, now that's a movie star kiss. You think.

He kisses you again as Sebastian returns, drink in hand.

“Oi! You two. Jesus Christ, can't keep your hands off each other, can you?” Sebastian pretends to vomit. “C’mon, if I want to talk to you at my party, I should have that right.”

You attempt to pull away– but Cooper, being a little mischevious, perhaps wanting to show off in a way he hasn’t been able to, sits up right and kisses you again, this time normally, just very slowly and passionately though, slithering an arm around your waist in a way that has Sebastian rolling his eyes.

“Okay, present.” He says, not pulling his arm off your waist.

“Thanks.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I was thinking we should take the mood off with some party games…”

It's about 2 AM when you've finally left the party. Cooper didn't want to let you go– he's crashing at an apartment for the time being, but you really don't want to waste yourself on being his rebound, if he really likes you.

You tell him as much, and he likes that– you really are rather sharp about things.

“Well. Gimme a call when you realize I'm not kidding around with you.” He says unabashedly, holding your hand, kissing it as you leave.

You’re absolutely sure he's drunk, and he's being a little too clingy– but you want to believe him anyways.

You walk back to your car, alone. Thinking about if Cooper is worth the damage it could have on your potential career. But then again– the end of the world is coming, right?

So maybe it won’t matter. And you find that you like this, the secret potential of this option, just hanging out with Cooper in a place that used to be America, no more expectations on you both. There’s also the chance you just both die, though.

You shudder.

You don't notice that there's a man in the backseat of your car when you get in, brandishing a chloroform stained cloth.

The Ghoul prods at the body that's just fallen out of the cryo pod.

Oh fuck.

It's starting to stir, whoever it is, and Coop knows he's ready, if this is really some synthetic android-clone thing, to make their life hell. Get some of his anger out on something that doesn’t matter.

Wait– he recognizes that cherry red fabric. That coiffed hair, frosty after being inside the pod. Oh, Jesus… even the makeup is the same as when he last saw you.

“Ah… shit.” He chuckles to himself in exasperation, because this is beyond belief. “Nuka-Cola, is that you?”

You tilt yourself to the side, eyes bleary, unable to see clearly. Everything’s dark. But you know that voice, you just heard it a couple of days ago.

“Mr. Howard?” You croak out, and he hisses inwards– nobody has called him that in centuries. Nobody knows who he is… except for you, of course.

“The one and the same, baby.” He licks the side of his gums, deciding to stick with his identity for now. “Well, maybe a little different. You wouldn't happen to know what a Ghoul is, huh?”

“What?” You don't know how long your vision is going to stay black for, but you don't like the sound of that. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Eyes haven't been opened for… two hundred years. I'll give you some time, Cola.” He sighs; cracks his neck, while you sink back into the floor. “Just imagine the ugliest horror-picture monster you can imagine. Zombie, no nose. That paint a picture for you?”

“...”

“What was that?” Coop can't hear you when your voice is muffled into the tiles of this secret room. He grasps your hair gently, from the root, pulling your head upwards so you'll speak– clearly you don't have the strength to lift up your body.

“I said, how is that any different from before?”

“Oh, she's still a jokester.” Coop scoffs– despite himself he snorts– and he lets go of your hair so you land back on the floor with a thump.

“–Ow!” You flinch, and then turn over so you’re on your back. “Still an asshole, huh?”

“Me?” He grins maliciously. Ooh, maybe he can use some misplaced anger on you. “You're the one who didn't call back for several weeks.”

“How could I? You can see I've been trapped in a cryo thing for… however long. Did you say two hundred years?” You flatly ask, and Coop still thinks you're lying.

“Yes, and bullshit. You probably had a couple weeks since I last saw you to call me.” He states, and he doesn’t actually hold a grudge, at least not that much of it in comparison to all the other horrid shit that’s happened to him– he just thinks it's funny to push your buttons after all of that, like looking into a mirror of the past– and you groan.

“No, I didn't. I got in my car after Sebastian's party, and some goon sprayed something in my face, I passed out, and he drove me here.” You start, and you begin frowning in such a way that Coop almost feels bad.

“Why you, sweetheart?” He shakes his head. “You weren't exactly high up in popularity yet.”

“Exactly. No one would miss me.” You spit out bitterly, remember the end to that night, where you were so unaware of your surroundings, and terrified of being assaulted as you were pushed around into this room, blindfolded.

“Adrian fucking Amos, the fucking Second, thought it would be great if I just became his permanent doll during the apocalypse.” You swallow, and Coop sits down next to you, to listen more clearly. You shift towards his body heat– and to his surprise, he still likes that. “See, his daddy has shares in Vault-Tec, so he decided before nuclear fallout happened, he wanted a guaranteed sex slave from his favourite advertisements.”

“Nuka-Cola.” Coop utters with the slowest drawl, concluding your statement– and you like that.

“Yeah, Nuka fucking Cola.” You grimace. “Then he undressed me, put me in this little number, and threw me in the pod. I barely remember this shit because I was so out of it.”

“Shame. I always wondered why you never called me back.” Coop circles back to his little grudge– but he also feels bad, feels some level of guilt that neither he nor Sebastian had the sense to look out for you back then, and you were practically assaulted (maybe actually so if you didn't remember).

“Yeah, because I wanted to miss out on that piece of ass. Sure.” You joke feebly, and Coop laughs despite himself.

“Honey, you're gonna run away screaming when you finally see me. Don't worry about it.” He shakes his head. “The real world's a lot more fucking difficult than would'ves and could'ves.”

“Okay, explain. If you're willing to owe me that much.” You start, and Coop gets reminded of that fateful night a couple hundred years ago, where he was the one to clue you into the impending nuclear war.

Not even three months later, it was all over, and you were nowhere in sight– if his mind ever did drift to you, the what-ifs and who-knows that still persisted– he would always assume you were dead.

Now he thinks you're just unfinished business.

“Fine.” He taps your shoulder, and you lean a little closer towards him– you touch his hand, and instead of flinching as many people have in the past– you trace the tough, callused skin there.

He thinks there’s something wrong with you. Why do you seem drawn to him anyways? You’re completely fucking up his tough guy, lone-wolf persona by being here, and he wants you gone. He pulls away his hand, ignoring how your face falls for a moment.

Coop inhales, and then starts. “In October 2077, they nuked America, bombed it all to hell. By they, I think we both know what I’m implying.”

“It wasn’t the Chinese.” You interrupt, and he shushes you.

“Yeah, Cola.” He starts playing with his fingers, feeling like you don’t deserve to be here right now. That you should’ve just stayed dead. “Vault-Tec destroyed it all.”

It’s no good. He’s an old man, and you’re still as soft and young as ever. He’s always haunted by his past, like with Barb and Janey, and then Sebastian’s voice in every single Mr. Handy robot he comes by, and then finally, his last couple memories with you.

“The last two hundred something years have been filled with carnage, death, unspeakable horrors that your pretty little mind could never comprehend.” He grits out, pushing past the past and remembering that this is who he is now– a killer– and you stare at him vacantly, because his tone is so much more serious suddenly. “Nothing is the same. Everyone has blood on their hands, water is a fucking commodity, if you’re not watching out for humans to betray you, hideous creatures like me roam the ground, and that ground? Sands, deserts, barely a hint of green. It’s nothing worth coming back to.”

“So you’re saying I’m in hell.” You suddenly inhale harshly, and Coop ignores the urge to check on you.

The last thing he needs is an extra person to take care of– especially someone who doesn’t know the Wasteland. So it’s better now that he just weans you off and leaves you here.

“Yeah, sweetheart. And I'm the devil.” Coop sucks on his teeth again. “If you had any sense, you’d go back into that fucking freezer until some utopia is born four hundred years from–”

You flinch, and he stops.

“Oh, God, my eyes–”

The sight comes back slowly then all at once. Light everywhere, overwhelming your senses.

You blink, tears rolling down your face.

“Maybe it would’ve been better if you stayed blind, Cola.” He stares at you as you rub your eyes, taking in the state of the room.

It’s a warning, but you look up at him again anyways. And Coop waits for the utter horror, for the sign that he really has transformed into a monster, so he can hurry up and leave– this entire conversation with you is just him finishing Cooper Howard’s past with a bow. A shiny, Nuka-Cola-red bow.

“...” You swallow, and then bite your lip, tilting your head up at him. “Couldn’t let go of the cowboy identity, huh?”

Coop furrows his non-existent eyebrows, disliking how hard you’re making this, how clever you still seem to be– you also seem way too relaxed with him. He has half a mind to fire a warning shot at you. “Yeah, okay, darlin’. You’re just avoiding facing that horrific, bile-inducing sensation in your throat, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, disagreeing immediately. “You might look– a little less like how I remember you, I guess… but you’re still you. I see it, and apparently so do you.”

How dare you? Coop thinks, how dare you intertwine his two images together so easily when he could never be the same man again, when just seeing an old VHS tape of one of his movies pains him?

“Yeah, no thanks. If this is your way to get me to valet you around, I’m not that man anymore, Nuka-Cola.” He resents the way you think he could still be good– just because his western image brings him a little comfort nowadays. “Not a sheriff anymore.”

Your face drops, but you seem to take that information readily. “Yeah, I figured that based on your outfit, the little blood splatters on your pants… if that’s how the world is, then so be it.”

You’re saying things that on paper should be right– but Coop is getting more and more disgruntled with you, and you feel like you need to separate yourself from him. Yes, tough, because to you it’s been all of forty-eight hours since you kissed him– but you can see, no matter how deep the original Cooper Howard is inside this new Ghoul, you’re not going to be able to bring him out.

You stand up, on shaky, bare feet, and motion for Coop to move out of the way. Independent woman to the end, you are, and you want to get your bearings without him.

Coop internally sighs. He doesn’t believe for one second you’ll survive out there– and he really doesn’t need to spend the time seeing you die, so he turns around, and leaves you here.

He never did find Leopold St. West, much to his chagrin– you really, really messed up his day.

It happens. Sometimes he’ll see Janey in another person’s eyes and freak out, and have to boil it down by murdering random raiders.

But now Coop is just spiteful. He’s always figured that a lot of what happened to the world was just a bunch of rich people picking and choosing a destiny for themselves to the detriment of everyone else, and now he’s aware that included you, too. To casually be grabbed away by some man, just because he was rich… Coop isn’t unsympathetic to how you ended up, even if he treated you quite poorly. It’s sickening.

Two hundred years of quiet, always-dwelling agony, the first few years out of fear for being alone, and the next few years spent conspiring about what could’ve happened to his family– and then here you are as confirmation of his worst theories.

No wonder he enjoys his casket time.

Coop sighs.

Vaultie is hard to keep track of. She got away with murder this time at the organ harvesting clinic– so Coop finds it easier to stop working with her, to move when he wants to.

The Govermint (really just Booker’s shitty gang) was rather easy to dismantle. The two sheriffs that he killed required no expertise on his part.

He’s thinking about the fact that since Moldaver is still alive, and apparently that fucker Hank MacLean, then that means there’s a good chance Barb and Janey are too– perhaps he could go and find them.

It’s an odd urge, though. Everytime he thinks about it, he wonders how he’s actually supposed to connect with them again– they’ve been fractured for so long, and he’s changed, and there’s a good chance neither of them would accept him like this.

But you did, didn’t you? You were on the verge of saying yes, you’d accept him– as if nothing had changed.

Coop grumbles. The big, significant difference is that you were infatuated with him, but Barb divorced him, and Janey was too young to make that choice. He considers that it could be a pipe dream, but he still has hope– for Janey, at least.

He thinks you’re probably dead anyways. He hasn’t seen you in several months, since that day where he unceremoniously woke you up– and he hopes it stays that way.

He's chilling in another small, scrappy area of the wasteland. Nobody bothers the Ghoul, not when he's casually fiddling with his gun and and chewing on a toothpick.

A man runs past him, holding a significantly valuable piece of Brotherhood equipment. Maybe worth thousands of caps if he knows his shit, and he does. That’s a fusion core, and they’re not exactly mass producing those anymore during the apocalypse.

Coop points his gun at him, finger on the trigger, seconds away from creating a bloody mess–

A blade thwacks into the guy’s neck, blood spurting as he falls and chokes. A person– a woman– jumps on his back, her face obscured by a deep green bandana . She yanks out the knife, stabs a few more times for good measure– and Coop knows the game, he’s not surprised he’s not the only one to go after this guy.

He’s pretty good at killing casually, and he barely even moves from where he’s standing, aiming the gun at her.

No way is he letting easy money pass by him.

He’s about to pull the trigger extra-quick when she yanks the bandana down, taking a deep breath as she sweats, and Coop actually misses.

It’s you. You stare up at him from where you’re squatting over the body, and your gaze hardens, furrowed brows, dark lashes, intensely dark pupils. You purse your lips, press them together, jaw set in a stern fashion, recognizing him but refusing to hear him out– and Coop doesn’t know why he’s not firing, but he’s almost… enamoured with how you are now, almost taken aback by your new nature.

Not so taken aback that he doesn’t immediately start firing when you take the fusion core and start running.

And Coop doesn’t want to actually kill you, he just wants to incite some damage. See how far you can take it.

You interweave through random gaps in the metal scraps of this little abode, seeking shelter as you do so, and Coop’s gunfire only ricochets off them with cartoony sounding “pings!”

He manages to graze your left thigh through a small window, and you inhale sharply, stopping as you grit through the pain.

Coop grins to himself. This little cat and mouse chase is what he expected, what was predictable from you– you’re smart enough to stay on the defense, but you would probably never attack him, avoiding him because of your sad feelings of the old times, never resort to carnage unless you needed to–

You shove past the walls where you’ve been roaming, and manage one kick against his stomach and he manages to grab you and restrain you, your back against his front.

You grab his own jacket for purchase, and instead of pulling forward– you push back, landing on top of him with a thud that surely hurts him. Coop clenches his teeth, back against the ground now, but you scramble, straddling him. Hands around his throat, knife pressed against one of his tendons. Not outright strangling him, but just enough pressure that he knows you’re seriously threatening him.

Holy fuck, have you changed. Just like Vaultie, maybe you’re showing your honest self– and Coop supposes it may have been his mistake to underestimate you.

“Got a whole new outfit… I like it.” He admires your new leather jacket, cargo pants around your thighs pushing his arms down, a blouse fashioned out of your old Nuka-Cola dress. Tough combat boots dig into his thighs as you push against him. “Don’t fucking start–” You squeeze a little harder and he groans, the tip of the knife pushing in. “With your on and off, hot and cold bullshit.”

Ooh, it sounds like you have a little bit of a grudge over how you were treated.

“Get over it, Cola. It was centuries ago, whatever we had.” He spits out, and you have a glint of sadness in your eyes.

He knew you were a little too gushy for your own good– not even he adapted that quickly to the wilderness of the Wasteland. He waits for you to make the mistake, apologize, break down– and then he can take the core and get out of here.

But you’re still firm in your grasp of him, your weight pushing him down, blade against him.

You’re not angry about back then. You’ve come to terms with that.

You’re angry at the state of the world.

“You know what I fucking hate, Ghoul?” You spit in his face, and he blinks, spittle now on his chin. “You are all so selfish. I got left behind, likely for dead, right, and nobody gives a shit, whatever. But instead of me hoping that the leftover crumbs of society would at least try to be, I don’t fucking know, more hopeful and kind, or at the very least, not be so fucking greedy and transparently trying to be the new party in charge.”

“You’re living in a dream world.” Coop interrupts, and he’s rewarded with you carving a small, little cut on his cheek, a rapid movement you hardly think about, and it causes him to inhale sharply, a drop of blood smearing across his face.

“Oh, no. I’m not asking for everyone to hold hands and play family.” You laugh suddenly, and then somehow lean in closer, and Coop finds that in some fucked up way he enjoys the pressure against him. “It’s bullshit, that kind of image making– you and I both know that. But for all this supposed talk against the rich billionaires who ruined our lives, how are we not just emulating them?”

Coop is actually drawn to silence.

“Maybe you actually got fooled by self-image, Cola.” He murmurs. “Or maybe that’s just people’s true nature.”

You don’t like that answer. You don’t actually want to believe that, but the more you think about it, the more it’s probably true. People lie all the time, but the amount of outrage you’ve heard from people the last few months, bemoaning Vault-Tec and all those rich fuckers, you were inclined to believe they wouldn’t act the exact same way.

Just at a different level. Power corrupts all, you guess.

You loosen your grasp a little. “Thank you.”

It’s honest, and Coop doesn’t like how much he does like your nature of trusting him– how even as this new, terrible version of yourself, you still trust him, and you still ask for his advice.

He doesn’t know what to make of this, but he thinks maybe he can get some use out of you yet.

Coop wrangles his arm from out under your thigh, where you’ve accidentally let a gap through, and shoves you over.

You fall with a gasp, hitting the ground, and he stands up and kicks you for good measure, while you screech in pain.

Coop picks you up by your throat, and you instantly move to fighting– your blade against his stomach, teeth gritted in resolute urge to kill– but he’s got his pistol at your neck, and the way he brushes it against you is almost like a lover’s embrace.

“One thing I hate is a fucking liar, Cola.” He grumbles, and you glare at him. “You’re not some innocent– why else do you got a fusion core in your pocket?”

“I never claimed I was a good woman.” You shake your head. “I just wonder why the Brotherhood, the Enclave, hell, even some of the Raiders… everyone wants the ultimate piece of the pie.”

“Besides, you’re the one who kept saying to survive out here I’d have to be a killer.” You remind him, and he looks down at you, thinking. “The world’s grieving– I don’t blame it for that, I feel the same way.”

You’ve still got a way with words, he thinks, and he was right. He can use you for his benefit.

“Say, Nuka-Cola. Why don’t we take some of those fuckers down?” He stills. “Not randoms. The power-hungry pie-eaters, like how you so eloquently put it.”

You don’t fully trust him again, but you’re into the prospect. You don’t want power, and you know he doesn’t either, but it’s not just looting. No, no, this is something akin to revenge.

“Alright.” You whisper.

“Alright. Okay, I won’t shoot if you don’t cut me.” He speaks softly, slowly, trying to cajole you out of attacking– and you move as he does.

The threatening air of before is gone now, and the Ghoul has only a odd stare for you, something that makes you feel watched, almost reminding you of two centuries ago. It could be that he doesn’t trust you either– and so you walk onward with a gap between you two, heading to wherever a faction that needs fucking up could be.

Coop strolls inside the makeshift bar as you make conversation, staying within the shadows. It’s not on official Enclave grounds, it’s simply a nearby bar where members have been known to hang out.

He doesn’t exactly mind being the one to pick up the slack of killing people– he can tell you’re good at charming people what with your former bombshell acting techniques, your silly, soft blinks, the way how your skin still looks smooth and untouched.

Was it all a lie with him? Aw, shit, why does he care? He really doesn’t have time to wonder if he’s been manipulated by you– he won’t be manipulated by you now, when he gets rid of many the people who represents obstacles in his way to finding still-existing Vault-Tec members.

Yes, that’s all this is to him. Another step to finding Moldaver, Henry MacLean, then his family if he’s lucky. And you’ll get some rage out of it, so he doesn’t even consider this to be that bad of an evasion of his.

You laugh at something the guy next to you says. Coop catches a bit of it, of him asking how you look under that big jacket– and you mentioning you’d like to see him without that government get-up, too.

He grits his teeth. He’s not fucking in love with you, or anything stupidly juvenile like that– but he definitely felt something before when the two of you were fighting, or when you had conversations during the long, arduous talk here– you bit into a piece of his jerky when he offered it, and he laughed in surprise that you didn’t spit it out after he revealed it was feral ghoul ass jerky.

He also found that his gaze kept being drawn to you, too. You kept up with him, you were capable of hunting and searching on your own, you took lives when the need arose, and you had his back, even if he didn’t ask for it.

You made him subconsciously draw from the past, reminiscing about a time with you and a future he never thought he’d revisit. And now he can’t ignore that, so he needs to let off some steam.

There’s a splatter of blood across your face as the guy in front of you splutters, a bullet hole shot through his forehead. Little pieces of flesh hit the bar counter as he falls, and you gasp.

Coop is kind of quick with it now– he fires off, and because these “politicians” are unprepared, he’s able to kill off more than half.

You get over your shock quickly and fire your own tiny pistol at random, managing a few kills, but the Ghoul takes the last one and looks back at you, with an intrepid glance that you can’t figure out.

“What the hell was that?” You call out, and he doesn’t respond, instead beginning to pilfer the bodies, looking for shit to take. “Hey, Ghoul…”

“We came here to kill off those guys.” He answers you, but it’s not really an answer.

“Yeah, but I thought we agreed on discussing this shit as we were doing it. What happened to signalling?” You approach him, and as you get close enough, he turns around and stares unnervingly into your eyes.

“I did signal, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, lying through his teeth.

“Bullshit.”

“No, I did.” He points at you. “It’s not my fault that you were too busy schmoozing and flirting to notice.”

“Wow.” You laugh exasperatedly at his antics, while he tilts his head. “You’re really obtuse, you know?”

“Nah. I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re gonna say you’re not jealous–” At that word, the Ghoul snarls, ready to tell you exactly how little he cares for you, and you motion for him to zip it. “But at the very instance of seeing me flirt, mind you, in the most fake way possible, you lost it. You can’t even tell the difference between my genuine flirting and the fakest, schlockiest shit?”

“...” Coop frowns, because you’re right– he did kind of let his mind go wild over nothing in particular.

Even worse, it means he’s made it apparent to you that he still harbours some feelings for your long-ago relationship. And that’s definitely a potential weakness– he does not want you to believe you can just work him around.

“Fuck you.” He spits, and instead of your face flinching in hurt, you stay neutral.

“I know you think you can come close and then shove me off every once in a while, because you’re fucking terrified of what it means that you’re not as hard as you pretended to be, that you still have a bit of human emotion inside you.” You tiptoe up to his face so he can’t avoid you. “I don’t care. That’s your problem.”

You turn to leave, to continue looting the bodies– and Coop’s hand wraps around your wrist.

He hates what you’ve said, because it’s absolutely provoking the worst issue he has– he can never just let go. Two hundred years of this has made him a different creature altogether, spiteful; evil, but Coop knows as well as anyone that his transformation doesn’t negate his original nature, buried deep down.

It was a lie on his part– people are not as evil as he made them out to be, it’s the cycle of this situation that perpetuates that shit. Violence begets violence and all that. He can’t seem to say this to you, though, because he can tell you already probably knew that.

What is this fuckery, that you’re able to generate such a sense of guilt in him?

“Show it to me again. Genuine flirting.” he says instead, and he knows it’s stupid as hell to say something like this. “It’s been hundreds of years, you can’t expect me to fuckin’ remem…”

You grasp his arm back, making him quiet.

He’s half expecting you to punch him, but you see something you like– something that finally satisfies you, and you kiss his cheek, where you cut him much earlier in the day. It’s a soft bruise, mostly healed over in the way ghouls heal– but it’s overwhelmingly, embarrassingly hot there now as you pull away.

“I won’t forget the difference next time, Nuka-Cola.” He tips his hat at you in a mockery of his acting as a dashing cowboy once upon a time.

“Won’t be a next time.” You shrug. “I would hate to have to flirt with someone again just to get you to notice me.”

This severely bothers him, like you haven’t been an annoyance in his mind this whole time. And then he wonders if you’re an idiot, like you have no idea the effect you had on him back then, and even now. Hell, even that overly-chaste kiss has him remembering how he felt at Sebastian’s party when you humoured him the first time.

Do you think the only thing he’s burying is some empathy for the human race?

He can’t just let you be this wrong about this, no fucking way. And it’s with this in mind that the Ghoul feels his reserve melt as he tightly grabs your face and kisses you. Not a soft, movie-star kiss of the past, but one more hungry, his lips swallowing yours, pressed sternly, firmly, like he’s not gonna let you go. He parts his mouth ever so slightly, trying to catch a reaction from you.

You’re caught off guard, and he’s glad. He likes that you don’t know what to do with yourself, that for once you’re floundering rather than him, and you barely remember to kiss back until a couple seconds later when your hands grasp the base of his skull. You’re tracing grooves, calluses, skin that’s been eroded by his ghoulishness. You feel like he tastes ever so acidic– perhaps from the radiation emitting from his body– but some weird part of you loves it, and you part your lips as you kiss him harder, wanting to feel his tongue.

Your lips are just as soft as he remembers– but there’s more excitement now, more of an urgency as you kiss him, so he takes your invitation and swirls his tongue around on yours, disgustingly vulgar and perversely fast, yet lingering to enjoy the sensation, and he kinda loves being a corrupting force, being the ghoul who eats up this sweet human girl, and he tightens his grip– it almost hurts you, how tightly his hands weave around your waist suddenly– and then before you know it, he pulls away.

He wipes his mouth, never taking his eyes off of you.

“So. Did I taste like Nuka-Cola?” You joke, and he laughs in your face.

“Nope. Darlin, you haven’t been the Nuka-Cola girl for hundreds of years. They replaced you not long after you vanished.” He smiles widely at how your face drops. “I can show you some of the new girl’s billboards, if you’d like.”

“That would explain the lack of revenue.” You raise your eyebrows. “Then why do you still call me Nuka-Cola, Cola, etcetera?”

“That’s how I remember you.” It sounds too sweet, too nice that he keeps your nickname on tabs, so he twists his lips in a sneer. “Plus I don’t remember your name.”

“Oh.” You bite your lip, finding his insult more funny than anything else, and turn around to take items from the bodies around you. “Okay, Mr. Howard.”

It was the optimal moment for you to joke back, calling him the Ghoul, but in classic you-fashion, you decided to extend an olive branch to him– reminding him that he’ll never just be the Ghoul to you. And even if Coop knows he’ll always remember you by Nuka-Cola, he has a fondness for you that he doesn’t neglect anymore– and he murmurs your name so softly, but just enough that you turn back and look at him, and smile with pleased recognition.

2K notes · View notes

flowergirlmiwa · 2 years ago

Text

I don't know how it is for other cable systems but I swear Charter/Spectrum have never once made an entertaining commercial

#My post #using my dad's cable and I keep seeing these ads like I feel nothing #I've never felt anything seeing these #at least time Warner cable had like road runner in their logo. that's something #American cable #cable systems sure love forcing their already established customers to watch this shit

0 notes

cutehoons02 · 17 days ago

Text

Mission: Don’t fall in love with the campus superstar

University series: Heeseung Jungwon Jake

*pairing: pervy campus superstar Jay x barista Girl

*trope: grumpy x sunshine

*synopsis: What would happen when the captain of the university baseball team as well as the campus superstar comes to work in the university cafeteria with you? Jay is the superstar of the campus, he has the pressure to be the captain of the Baseball team but at the same time he tries to produce music and study instead you are the classic girl who does not want to have distractions and who spends the days studying and working; but Jay is a storm of emotions and even the most tender girl can not not give in to his flattery.

*tags: fluffy,humor,Jay loves to tease the protagonist, the protagonist does not bear much Jay, kisses, Jay is a green fleg, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl), masturbation, (f.m receive it),fingering,pet names (sunshine,good girl) (rockstar), jealosy,+16

(English is not my native language)

9.9k (🎸)

The university cafeteria was full as always at eight in the morning. The smell of freshly ground coffee mixed with the chatter of students, newly baked brioche, and people’s chatter gave a sparkling energy that Y/N found strangely reassuring in that place. She loved working there despite the intense shifts. There were always interesting people to watch and his boss was incredibly patient with his experiments of milk art and various coffees customized for the different seasons.

That morning, however, her quiet rhythm was abruptly interrupted.

Jay Park entered the cafeteria as if he were the protagonist of a movie. Dark sunglasses - despite being indoors - and a leather jacket laid carelessly on the shoulder. A sports bag was hanging from his right hand, while the left one was slipped distractedly into his jeans pocket. His walk was slow, and calculated, as if he were aware of the glances that turned on his way.

<< That’s Jay Park, right? >> whispered a group of girls near the bar, holding their breath as he passed.

Y/N recognized him. How could she not? It was everywhere: on social media platforms, in the posters of university sports teams, and even in his roommate’s TikTok feed, who did nothing but watch his videos wherewith his collection of electric guitars every day posted some cover and with its charm made millions of views.

"Great," you thought, rolling your eyes.

Jay approached the counter and took off his sunglasses with a theatrical gesture, showing his deep eyes and an expression that seemed to say: I’m here to save the day.

«Hi, I’m looking for the person in charge,» he said, his voice low and full of confidence as he stared at you from head to toe. You looked at him, trying to keep a neutral expression. "It’s on the back. But if you’re here for free coffee, I don’t think you should try."

Jay bowed his head, a smile that seemed half amused and half irritated. «I’m not here for free coffee, sunshine.»

"Oh, sorry, the rockstar is talking to us, common mortals?" You said, crossing your arms.

The nickname made him stop for a second, before his smile came back, more arrogant than before. «Interesting. You always have this personality... or are you just angry because your day started before me or maybe you woke up on the wrong side of the bed?»

"On the contrary," you said, with a fake smile. "I love getting started early. It gives me more time to put up with guys like you."

Jay laughed softly, shaking his head. «This job will be fun.»

Just then, your boss came out of the back, wiping his hands on the apron. 'Jay! Perfect, you’re here. Here’s your uniform.'

«Uniform? Uhm...sure I must put that subspecies of robe over my sweaters or sweaters» he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Tried to hold a laugh when you saw his expression change, but his security cracked for the first time. The boss handed him a cream-colored apron from the coffee shop with the logo in the center.

' Welcome aboard,' said the chief, then he turned to you. 'Y/n, why don’t you show him how it works here? Today he will pair up with you. You’re always the best at making new people feel comfortable, take it under your wing'

You felt the smile slide from your face. "Wait, with me?"

Jay turned to you with a smile that was both a grin and a challenge. «It seems we are partners, sunshine!»

Jay was an impossible presence to ignore. From day one, you were committed to showing him everything there was to know about the café:

How to use the coffee machine, the correct way of blending milk, where the ingredients for the cakes were, and even how to handle the most complex orders.

But, of course, Jay had decided to make your task much more difficult.

«So I have to press this button to make coffee?» he asked, the tone full of innocent curiosity.

"Exactly," you replied, with infinite patience. "Just press that button and the machine will do it all by itself."

Jay looked at you and tilted his head slightly. «It seems easy. Are you sure even a rock star like me can do it?»

"Well, if you can play a guitar solo without missing a note, I think you can handle a cappuccino," you said, crossing your arms.

Jay smiled, the kind of smile that he knew was irresistible. «Interesting. So you’ve been watching my videos?»

"I didn’t say that," you replied quickly, blushing barely. You watched all his videos as a little "stalker" to understand why the girls were obsessed with him while he was playing those guitars that would cost more than your parents' various salaries of their whole life. You didn’t understand much about electric guitars but the covers were nice and some famous artists had even put back his videos, but surely the girls did not look much at how the music played but who played it, Every time Jay recorded a video, he was beautiful, sometimes he looked like a nerd with glasses, other times with a Ralph Lauren shirt that made his muscles stand out, Other times he played with sweatshirts of the baseball team and others real rockstar with t-shirts of rock artists and his inevitable leather jacket.

«But you didn’t deny it, have you seen if I covered your favorite song?» he muttered, loud enough to be heard.

You puffed, turning to make an order, "I can not watch the hundreds of videos that place to see if you played my favorite song, I have no time to waste but surely you will not play it" felt that Jay was laughing behind you and It was unbearable.

Days passed and, at each turn, the cafeteria seemed to become a tourist attraction for all the students on campus. Girls Y/n had never seen before suddenly showed up with bright smiles, flawless clothes, and demands that were far too complicated.

' A double latte macchiato with almond milk, vanilla syrup, and a dash of cocoa, please said a girl with a mellow voice, leaning against the counter to attract Jay’s attention.

«Immediately» he replied, with a smile that would melt even the most cynical heart.

But when he turned to make the drink, you noticed that he had no idea how to start. As always.

"Jay, the almond milk is there," you said, indicating it with a nod.

He turned to you, leaning against the counter with a mocking air. «Oh, so help me now? I thought you were too busy hating me.»

"I don’t hate you," I said dryly. "I don’t have time for that. You’re just... annoying."

«Yet you are always ready to correct me» he replied, with that unbearable smile that made you want to throw the first container of milk at him.

The more days passed, the more you realized that Jay was good at everything - except for his real job. He made coffee now and then but spent most of his time flirting with clients, having light conversations, and... attracting an absurd amount of attention.

One day, while you were cleaning one of the tables, you noticed another familiar scene. Jay was at the bar, with a girl laughing too loud at a joke he probably hadn’t even finished.

When the client finally left, you approached her, visibly irritated. "You are aware that technically you should be working, right?"

«But I’m working» he replied, leaning on the bar with that relaxed air while preparing a cappuccino. «People are happy. The cafeteria is full. I would say I’m doing a great job.»

"Jay, don’t take me for a fool. Someone else is always preparing their orders while you’re doing the showman with any girl who opens that fucking door of this coffee shop."

Jay chuckled, his hand in his hair. «Are you jealous?»

"Why would I be jealous of you? Not."

«No, not me,» he said with a smile that irritated her beyond measure. «Smiles that I reserve for everyone but not for you, sunshine.»

You were blocked for a moment, you could not stand it anymore, why the absurd reason that fate had made you know such an arrogant and self-satisfied guy?

"Maybe if you smiled less, you’d have time to do something useful and commit to something that isn’t frivolous."

Jay laughed, a deep and relaxed laugh that seemed to make fun of you but at the same time made you feel comfortable. «I promise you that the next smile is only for you, sunshine.»

You stared at him, but the truth was that you couldn’t stop thinking about those words for the rest of your shift.

The cafeteria was more chaotic than ever, thanks to the Jay Park effect. But despite his annoying behavior, you couldn’t help but notice how good he was at making everyone else feel comfortable except you. It was like he was doing it on purpose like he was having fun challenging you every turn.

It was a morning like many others, and you tried to get to the classroom in time so as not to be late. Psychology of interpersonal relationships was one of your favorite subjects, but the professor had the annoying habit of closing the door as soon as the clock ticked and not letting anyone in.

When you finally sat down, putting your laptop and notebooks in place, you felt a movement behind you. You didn’t pay too much attention until a familiar voice that you had learned to recognize and couldn’t stand did not break your moment of concentration.

«Sunshine, what a coincidence to find you here.»

You looked up at the sky and sighed deeply, immediately recognizing the tone. You just sunflower, just to confirm what you were already afraid of: Jay Park had sat right behind you, with that arrogant smile that you knew all too well.

"What are you doing here? , don’t tell me you missed me already and stalked my schedule" you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Jay laughed and gave you a slight pinch on the cheek while smiling at you

«Pff, calm I have not stalkerized your schedules and I did not miss at all this is the course of psychology of interpersonal relationships» he replied, leaning on the back of the chair as if he were the master of the world. «Interesting course to include in my CV»

You stared at him incredulously. "You? Psychology? You don’t seem like the type."

«Why not?» he replied, crossing his arms with a grin. «Relationships are my field of expertise.»

"Ah, sure," you replied, sarcastically "Flirting with all the girls on campus counts as a sociological experiment, I’d be curious to know if at least one of these girls has you friend-zoned to stand down once?"

Jay chuckled, amused by your tone and this time he came perilously close to your face which was red with anger.

«I didn’t know you were so attentive to my... experiments and relax all my experiments have been successful!» and he winked at you.

You quickly turned around, ignoring him as the teacher started the lesson. But all the while, you could feel Jay’s gaze on you. And when, at the end of the lesson you got up to collect your things he was already next to you.

"What do you want now?" button, putting the notebook in the bag.

«I thought I’d keep you company until the cafeteria» he replied in an innocent tone, although the smirk on his face told another story.

"No need, thank you," you replied trying to get rid of him.

Jay, however, did not let himself be discouraged. «Come on, you can’t always be so serious. Living a little won’t hurt you, you know? Every time I see you, you’re always so tense and serious, it seems like you hate everyone!»

"What should I do? Live my life like you, you mean?" you said, stopping to watch. "Spending your days doing nothing useful, wasting time and money because you don’t need to earn it?"

Jay raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

"Not everyone has rich parents who can buy him everything. I cannot afford to waste time. I work here to pay for my studies, and it’s not easy, so stop acting like it’s all a game."

Jay’s smile flinched for a moment. «I’m not saying that he doesn’t work hard. I’m just saying that...»

"What?" you interrupted him in a sharp voice. "That I must relax? Do you know the difference between me and you, Jay? I don’t have the luxury of stopping. I have to do everything myself."

For a moment, silence fell between you. Jay looked at you with a different, almost serious expression. He did not answer immediately, and you took advantage of the moment to leave, leaving him there, motionless in the corridor.

That afternoon, the work shift started as usual. You were already in the cafeteria setting up the counter and preparing the first meals. But when Jay came in, something seemed different. He didn’t make his usual theatrical entrance, nor the usual tantalizing comment.

Instead, he approached you for the first time and looked into your eyes without the usual smile of defiance.

«Y/n» began, in a low and sincere tone.

"What is it?"

«I didn’t mean to offend you before,» he said, scratching his neck and seeing for the first time a glimmer of sincerity and perhaps embarrassment from Jay?

«You’re right, I don’t know what it means to work so hard to get something. I got everything served on a silver platter and... well, maybe I act like it’s normal. But it’s not.»

You watched him, unsure of how to respond. "It’s not a contest, Jay. I don’t want sympathy or excuses. I just want to do my job without someone making me feel like I’m wrong or being arrogant with me."

He nodded slowly. «Understood. So... maybe today I’m trying to work. Show me what I have to do.»

"Really?" you asked, skeptical.

«Seriously» he replied. And this time he gave you a smile that seemed sincere.

The days at the coffee shop seemed to flow more smoothly after that candid conversation between you and Jay. It was as if a certain balance had been reached: he was more engaged in work and less in chatting or flirting with the girls, and you found the schedule that you had together of shifts even a little pleasant. Nevertheless, your interactions were not lacking in tension, with sharp lines and looks that said more than words.

One afternoon, during a break between shifts, Jay approached you as he was setting up some empty cups on the counter with a 32-tooth smile.

«Hey, did you know that there will be a baseball game tonight for the opening of the new academic semester?»

"So what?" you asked, and continued to tidy up the register.

«And so you should come» he replied, as if it were obvious.

You lie down quietly, shaking your head. "I don’t have time for this."

Jay tilted his head, pretending to be hurt. «Sunshine, you’re not saying you don’t want to support your... favorite coworker?»

"Favorite coworker," you repeated sarcastically, staring at him. "This is new."

«There will be the girlfriends of my friends and also the girlfriend of Jungwon who is your roommate, I promise you that you’ll have fun then there will not be 2 hours of leisure that would do you good» he looked at you with that smile that made everyone crazy but you wanted to say no.

"Thank you," you replied sarcastically. "But I don’t know if that’s the case."

«Oh, please, you have to come» insisted Jay, the slightly more serious tone. «It’s not just a match for me. It’s important. I’m trying to get noticed by some professional teams and you know better than me that my dream is to become a Baseball player and beat all the records»

That phrase made you stop for a moment. Despite everything, Jay had a dream. And you knew how important it was to pursue something that you believed in.

You finally let yourself be convinced - or rather Jungwon’s girlfriend forced you. Your best friend was excited to see Jungwon cheer for Jay and, of course, she didn’t leave you any choice.

The university stadium was full of screaming students, and the energy in the air was contagious. T/L immediately settled in the stands next to Jungwon, while you stayed slightly behind, trying not to look too out of place.

When the game started, Jay was a force of nature. Every time he hit the ball or made a strategic decision on the field, the audience burst into applause and screams. He seemed ready for the moment, with his natural talent and confidence radiating from every move.

'It’s amazing, isn’t it?' said Jungwon, looking at you with a smile.

' Admit it, you would never have thought he was so good.'

"Not bad," you admitted, though you avoided adding how impressed you were.

The game ended in a landslide victory for Jay’s team, and the applause was deafening. But as soon as he left the camp, Jay was surrounded by a group of girls, all eager to get his attention.

You watched the scene with a strange feeling in your stomach. There was something about the way he smiled at all of them, the way he seemed perfect, that bothered you. Why did it have to be like this? Why did he have to be good at everything and have the world at his feet?

"Perfect and unbearable," you murmured, trying to ignore the growing annoyance.

Later that night, as the crowd started to disperse, you found yourself in the parking lot waiting for T/L who was waving at Jungwon. You were exhausted, ready to come home and forget all that day.

But you didn’t notice Jay reaching for you, with a sports bag resting on his shoulder and his hair still slightly wet from the post-game shower.

«Hey,» he said, attracting your attention.

You looked at him, sighing. "Congratulations on the game. You did well."

«Just good?» he asked, tilting his head as he had that annoying grin you didn’t tolerate

"Okay, great," you said. "But you know already, I don’t know much about baseball but I saw that everyone was impressed by you, so don’t get your head in the game."

Jay laughed slowly, getting closer. «I wanted to thank you for coming.»

"T/L forced me," you said, crossing my arms.

«Sure» he said, with an enticing smile. «But you came anyway. Your support counts for me»

You roll your eyes. "If you’re done with your compliments, can I go? I’m tired and it’s so cold out here, I should have stayed in my room warm with Netlifx and a hot chocolate."

But when you tried to pass by him, Jay moved to block your way. It was not threatening, but his smile disappeared, replaced by a face she could not decipher.

«Why are you always so hard on me?» he asked, his voice getting lower and lower as she approached your body.

"Because you are... you," you replied trying to keep control. "You’re annoying, arrogant, and... and you seem to have it all. It’s frustrating."

Jay looked at you for a long moment, then did something unexpected. He came even closer, narrowing the space between you to almost touch your face.

«Words, sunshine» he muttered in a provocative tone but with an absent smile.

Before you could answer, Jay stooped down and kissed you.

You stood still, your heart beating fast, unable to move or think. It was a sweet and intense kiss at the same time as if Jay was trying to tell you something that words could not explain.

Jay touched your hips with his big arms and put you even closer to him to make you feel the warmth he felt only by kissing you, You put your hands in his chest covered with a jacket and he immediately let his tongue into your mouth and you muttered something undecipherable to the contact of your two mouths and the dance that they were doing their tongue.

When he finally broke off, he looked into your eyes with a serious but also slightly amused expression. «You were never just a game to me, Y/n.»

And before you could answer, he walked away, leaving you, confused and with a heart in turmoil.

You’ve been feeling like a disaster for days. The fever had forced you to bed and, unwillingly, you had to take a week off from work. A week in which Jay was left alone to run the cafeteria. Every day you called him, making sure everything was in order, that he knew how to do the most complex orders, and that he wasn’t spending his shift flirting with customers. Jay always replied in his usual playful tone, teasing her mercilessly.

«Don’t worry, sunshine» he said to you. «The cafeteria won’t burn, and yes, I remember how to put milk on. Although I can’t guarantee that it will be as perfect as when you do.»

And every call ended with him mentioning that kiss, making you blush even through the phone.

«Get well soon» he had said last time. «I might think of coming to check in person that you are resting»

"Don’t even try," you answered, in a tone that was more of a plea than a threat.

That night, you were wrapped in a blanket, watching an old movie while your head was still pulsing. He was almost asleep when you heard the bell ring.

"T/L? You open!" you shouted to your roommate, hoping she would hear you.

A few seconds later, you heard a sound of footsteps and then the incredulous voice of T/L. 'Oh my God.'

"What?" you asked with your eyes wrinkled and trying to get off the couch.

As you stepped out into the hall, the scene in front of you left you speechless: Jay Park, with a mischievous smile, stood there with a paper bag full of food containers and medicine.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, shocked.

«I thought someone should bring you food» Jay replied with a natural voice, entering as if it were his home. «And then I wanted to make sure you were alive. You were starting to sound like a ghost on the phone.»

T/L turned to you, wide-eyed and smiling.

T/L turned to you, wide-eyed and smiling. ' Jay, you’re amazing,' said your roommate, barely holding back a laugh. ' Oh, by the way, I should go to Jungwon. I don’t want to disturb... what’s going on here.'

"T/L", blushing deeply.

' Have fun!' T/L nodded to Jay and quickly left the door, leaving them alone.

You’re turning to Jay, still incredulous. "You shouldn’t have come here. I’m fine."

«You didn’t seem so well the last time you called me,» he said, placing the containers on the small table in the living room. «And then, it’s funny to see you so vulnerable.»

"I am not vulnerable," you replied with crossed arms, even though your voice betrayed the discomfort.

Jay smiled and started to arrange the food containers. I brought you homemade ramen, kimchi, and a tiramisu for dessert. I hope you like it...»

"You... can cook?" you asked, incredulous.

«I told you, sunshine. I can do many things» he replied, giving you a look that made you want to bury yourself.

As you ate together, the tension between you seemed to subside. Jay would tell you funny stories about working in the coffee shop, how he finally learned to make a decent cappuccino, and how he enjoyed watching customers ask for him.

«Of course, it’s not the same without you» he added, in a softer tone.

You blush again, trying to focus on his ramen. "Stop it."

«Stop doing what, sunshine?» he asked with a smirk.

"To say things that make you blush."

Jay came a little closer, putting his elbow on the table. «It’s too much fun to see you trying to hide behind that good girl mask and for a couple of months now it’s been my favorite game to make you blush.»

You looked up at him, trying to ignore him.

You looked up, trying to ignore him. But when Jay’s eyes got more intense, you felt his heart beat faster.

"Jay," you started, trying to keep control.

«Shh» he interrupted you. «Don’t say anything.»

And before you could protest, he leaned towards you, slowly approaching as if waiting for you to stop him. But you stood still, unable to turn your eyes from his eyes.

When your lips met for the second time, it was as if everything else disappeared. The world seemed to be reduced to that moment, to that kiss.

When you left, Jay looked at you with a smile as you tried to recover.

"What are you doing?" you asked, still incredulous.

«I told you so» he replied, in a light tone. «I am good at many things.»

You snorted, but couldn’t hold back a smile. The kiss had just ended. He did not move away immediately; instead, he put his hand on your back and began to curl it slowly, noticing that you were shivering.

«What’s the matter, sunshine» he asked, with a tone that mixed concern and curiosity. «Is it me who makes you shiver or is it still the fever?»

You shook your head, embarrassed, trying not to cross her eyes. "Don’t say nonsense."

Jay tilted his head slightly, amused. «Nonsense? Should I worry or feel flattered? I didn’t think you could get the thrills of pleasure just with my hands I can’t imagine when I will use...»

You looked at him very badly and did not answer, preferring to concentrate on anything other than him. But Jay, as always, was not going to let it go. «Okay, enough. You need to rest. And since you don’t trust me, I’ll take care of everything.»

Before you could protest, Jay picked you up like it was the most natural thing in the world.

«Jay! What are you doing?!" you cried, your face turning red even more than the fever.

«I bring a good girl to bed» he replied, smiling with his air of defiance.

You were slightly moved, but Jay held you tight as he carried you to your room. «If you move too much, you might drop me» he warned. «And we don’t want you to end up worse than that, do we?»

When he laid you gently on the bed, you looked at him with a combination of embarrassment and disbelief. "You shouldn’t have."

Jay shrugged. «Yes, we do. Now let’s see how badly you’re feeling.»

He took a thermometer from his bedside table and handed it to him. «Take your fever. Don’t argue, be good.»

You snorted but did as you were told. When the thermometer beeped, Jay took it to check.

«Almost 38. You need to rest» he said, in a tone that for once seemed genuinely concerned. He took a tablet from the bag and a glass of water from the nightstand. «Take this one. And don’t argue.»

You obeyed again, but the redness on your face was not just from the fever. Jay took off his sweatshirt and put it on.

«So you won’t be cold,» he said, placing it on your shoulders.

You looked at him surprised. "I don’t need your sweatshirt."

«Don’t be stubborn, sunshine. You know you’re a mess right now.»

You snorted again, but I tucked you into the sweatshirt, which still had its scent. Jay smiled triumphantly and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Why are you still here?" you asked, crossing my arms.

«Because I know you well enough to know that you will not take care of yourself properly», he replied.

"Jay, get out," you said, trying to keep a steady tone, even though it was hard with your weak body and that warm sweatshirt on.

«No» he answered, lying beside you with nonchalance. «I must make sure that you rest.»

"You don’t need to be here," you replied, trying to drive him away with a feeble attempt.

Jay, of course, did not move. He came a little closer, hugging you slightly.

"What are you doing now?" I asked, my voice full of disbelief.

«Keep you warm. It’s a green flag gesture, right? I read somewhere that you girls are crazy about these things» he replied, with his usual bold smile.

"You’re unbearable," you murmured, turning slightly toward him.

Jay laughed softly. «Maybe. But admit it, sunshine, you don’t mind so much.»

I didn’t answer immediately. The fever, the warmth of his presence, the scent of his sweatshirt... all contributed to your confusion.

"If you keep talking, I swear I’ll get up and throw you out," you finally murmured, trying to sound serious.

Jay smiled, stroking your hair softly. «I’ll let you talk then. With the fever, you are much more nice and tender.»

You looked at him, your lips curled in a half smile. "I shouldn’t let you stay here."

«Yet here I am» he replied, with a clever light in his eyes.

The morning light was filtering through the curtains, caressing your face. You stretched slowly, feeling much better than the night before, but your peace was interrupted when you realized that you were not alone.

There was a warm body next to you. Jay.

He was still there, hugging you as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his face relaxed in sleep and an arm holding you tight. He seemed incredibly serene, so different from Jay who teased you every day. He seemed... almost innocent.

You started laughing quietly, trying not to wake him. It was surreal to be in that situation, yet you couldn’t help but feel the warmth of that moment.

With a trembling hand, you found yourself moving without thinking too much. You began to gently touch his face, tracing the lines of his perfectly sculpted jaw, following the contour of his meaty lips.

Finally, your eyes fell on the small birthmark on Jay’s neck, a unique spot in the shape of a heart or butterfly, difficult to define, but incredibly charming.

As your finger lingered there, Jay slowly opened his eyes but said nothing. He had been awake for a while, but he wanted to enjoy that moment, your light touch that made his heart beat faster than normal.

When you realized he was awake, you suddenly blocked your face, turning a bright red. "Oh my God, I woke you up!"

Jay smiled, his voice still roaring from sleep. «I was already watching you.»

You looked at him with a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief. "Why didn’t you say anything?"

Jay leaned slightly, giving you a light kiss on the forehead. «Because I liked too much to feel you touching me. You can continue if you want. Maybe on my chest this time.»

You were left speechless, the shock mixed with a sudden urge to laugh. "You’re incredible. How can you be so cheeky even when you wake up?"

Jay shrugs his shoulders, pulling you back toward him. «It’s one of my talents.»

"You’re unbearable," you murmured, trying to push him away, but without too much conviction.

«Yet, you are here» he replied, with a satisfied smirk.

You sighed but did not move from his embrace. Even if you would never admit it out loud, being in his arms was not so bad. It was... pleasant.

Jay looked at you for a moment, his dark eyes shone with something deeper. «I didn’t know you liked me so much, sunshine.»

You looked up, trying to ignore your fast heartbeat. "Don’t get too excited, Park."

Jay was lying next to you, with a smirk printed on his face, as if he were in his natural element. You were still wrapped in the warmth of the bed and her sweatshirt, you looked more relaxed than the previous evening, but there was something in the atmosphere that had changed.

Jay, with his innate confidence, began to move his hand down your back, gently passing under the sweatshirt you were wearing. His fingers were warm and light, and the touch was more affectionate than intrusive, but it was enough to make you stiff for a moment.

"Jay," you mumbled

«I’m just making sure you’re comfortable, sunshine» he replied, with an innocent tone that contrasted with the cunning smile he threw at you.

You looked torn, but then, with a deep breath, you relaxed, leaning your head on Jay’s neck. Its familiar and reassuring scent surrounded you, making you feel more peaceful.

Jay kept drawing little circles on your back, his hand moving slowly, exploring but never going beyond a respectful limit. It was as if he wanted to see how far you would let him go.

But you decided it was time to turn the tables.

With a slight smile on your lips, you barely moved and began to place little kisses on Jay’s neck. It was a timid gesture at first, but when she noticed that he stiffened in surprise, your courage increased.

«What are you doing?» asked Jay, his voice suddenly lower and more stony.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you focused on the small butterfly or heart-shaped spot that you noticed the night before. With a light touch of your lips, you began to kiss, driven by an impulse that you could not control, you sucked her slightly.

Jay moans softly, an almost imperceptible sound, but enough to make you smile against his skin. It was as if, for the first time, I had found a weak spot in that self-confident boy.

«Y/N...» he muttered, but his voice had lost its usual impudence and there was something more sincere. There was a vulnerability, as if for once he wasn’t in charge of the game.

You pulled yourself slightly back, watching him with a smirk that was both sweet and provocative.

"What’s the matter, Jay? Don’t you like it when someone takes over or are you used to having everything right away?"

He looked at you, with dark eyes that shone a dangerous light and at the same time amused. «Oh, I like it. But don’t think I’ll let you beat me so easily.»

You slowly grovel, but before you can answer, Jay comes closer, his lips touching your forehead. His hand on the back became firm, holding you close to him.

«You’re playing with fire, sunshine» whispered to your ear, her voice low and sweet, but with a hint of challenge.

"And you think you’re the only one who can play?" You answered the smile that widened as you retreated against his chest again, satisfied to have turned, even for a moment, your usual balance.

Jay was silent for a few moments, a smile on his face. «You know what? I like this version of you. The one who knows how to stand up to me.»

"Someone must do it," you said, closing your eyes.

«And that someone is you, sunshine» When you heard that phrase from Jay you put yourself back near his legs, now completely on his knees as he sat leaning against the bed’s keyboard, and his arms were wrapped all around you and his face buried in your neck.

You started touching his chest under the over shirt he used to sleep in as pajamas and felt how sculpted his muscles were for the eternal hours of training on the other hand Jay was touching your neck all the time, His hands on your breasts as he pinched your nipples through his shirt, moaning at the feeling of your tits in his hands were perfect for his big hands and he couldn’t wait to stick you.

From time to time, his hands were going down your pussy, touching the spot where you needed attention most before he came up on your chest, and this time he was getting his hands in your body and getting rid of that pajama shirt.

When he saw you without a shirt had a slightly open mouth and immediately began to torture the left breast «This body is made to be mine, look until yesterday you were embarrassed and wanted to kick me instead you are here now to have your breasts licked and you touch your pussy» moaning quietly and after little Jay feel your pussy still covered in pants "Jay, can.... Can I make you feel good this time?" he looked at you with a smile hanging on and the excitement that grew more and more.

«Are you sure, sunshine? You don’t have to» you said yes with your head and you were slightly embarrassed you didn’t know where you had found that courage but he had been so good to you yesterday and you didn’t know how to thank him.

Jay helped you to take off his pants and boxer shorts, throwing his head back when your hands immediately went to find his cock and play with it. Burying his head in your pillows, he moans about your name, whining at the feeling of your hands finally wrapped around him after wishing for you for so long.

Jay was so big, thick, and muscular, that you’d get your mouth watering just to see him. He was so toned but so thick, and his cock fitted perfectly. God, the thought of that monster inside you had already made your eyes swirl, you didn’t know if you had sex with him that morning or another day but you knew that sooner or later you would want it only for yourself and no other girl.

You spat lightly into Jay’s cock and licked and sucked his already slightly pink tip, moaning at him as his eyes rolled back. He stood up slightly to see you with his cock in your mouth while you were fucking him, he gently took your hair and made a half tail and you licked him even more wildly.

«You are so good with your mouth, every time you answered me I would have kissed you or put my dick in you, sunshine... Fuck, you’re so pretty full of my dick» panted Jay, moaning against his cock, already thirsty for him while he pulled your hair harder to make you get even more in his dick.

«D-where do I come from? Fuck, I’m coming, it’s so nice, baby. Take it so well for me, shit...»

You were too busy choking on your dick to answer right away, so you had to take a minute to get away and catch your breath, replacing your mouth with your hand while holding the other.

«Do you want me to fill your mouth with my cum and liquid?» You wanted to answer him: please fill my mouth with your cum but you couldn’t talk and I shook my head while you pumped his cock even more into your mouth.

When Jay squirted and came into your mouth you tried to swallow every shred of his essence, moaning at his cock afterward as you licked every solitary drop coming out of your mouth.

In the end, you were completely exhausted and Jay was extremely shocked that the girl he had met a few months before yelling at him or giving him orders was now kneeling and exhausted for giving him the best blow job of his life.

You returned to work after having fully recovered, your spirit was back as usual: serious, focused on your goal.

The cafe seemed to be getting more crowded since Jay started working there, and to your surprise, it seemed to have become a familiar presence for everyone. Not only the employees but also the customers treated him as if he had always been part of the team as if Jay was meant to be there, comfortable among the smiles and daily chatter.

You were watching him, a little surprised by his ability to adapt and integrate so quickly but also it occurred to you what happened the other morning; would he make fun of you? Would treat you like a slut or even worse, not care? But for the little you knew Jay would never treat you like that, right?

Jay didn’t seem like the ordinary working type at all, yet he moved with an ease that left him almost speechless. He was always smiling, attentive to people, and perfect in his role. But there was something that bothered you while you were watching him: he seemed to put more effort into acting as a "good guy" than being a "social guy". It almost seemed like he was trying to impress you as if he wanted to show you something.

One afternoon, while you were serving at a table, a guy came in. He was the opposite of Jay in every possible way. Tall, with blonde hair and the look of a studious boy, but he had a disarming smile that had already made more than one client’s head spin. When he approached the bar, you noticed it immediately.

' Hello,' said the boy, with a sure smile, 'I’m Matthew. I saw you earlier in Psychology class and when I asked about you around everyone told me that I had to come to the university cafeteria to try one of your cappuccinos'.

You were a little embarrassed and you smiled back. You had never heard anyone make such a statement so directly. "Thank you... Which one do you prefer?"

The boy, coughing, handed you a note. ' Here’s my number, if you ever want to study with me. I don't know how to make a coffee outside of work, I would like to get to know you better.'

Jay, who was passing by them, couldn’t help but notice the interaction and hear the worst excuse invented in this world to ask a girl out. His look, at first indifferent, became more attentive when Matthew touched the arm of Y/N with a certain ease. There was something unusual in the air, an energy that he could not ignore. The tension between them was palpable, and Jay could not help but react.

He approached the bar with his quiet but determined step, and before you could say anything, he bent over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder with naturalness. «Hey, sunshine, all right?» he said, casting a sharp look at the boy.

Matthew raised an eyebrow, surprised by the gesture. ' Sorry, but... what’s going on? You’re... together? Nobody told me that you were engaged,' he asked, his voice now more cautious.

You were stiff, not knowing how to react. You wanted to make a joke, to take the tension away, but the situation was out of control.

Jay, noticing your discomfort, decided to take you by the arm, with a strong gesture but without violence. He lifted you slightly, bringing your face closer to yours as if to protect your space. «Yes, we’ve been together for a while,» he said with an enigmatic smile, looking at Matthew with an intensity that left little room for misunderstandings.

Matthew seemed puzzled but, with a last smile, he walked away, leaving the bar with a slight hint of frustration. Jay stood there, holding you for a moment longer than necessary.

You looked at him with bright eyes, mixing disbelief and a subtle anger. "What do you think you’re doing? You should not have gotten in the way," You said, trying to shake off his embrace.

Jay looked into your eyes, his smile concealing a slight hint of possessiveness. «I don’t like to share,» he said, his voice low and still. «And you are mine, Y/N. I don’t want others to think that I can have a chance.»

You stared at him for a moment, a mixture of emotions running through your face. But before you could answer, Jay pulled you back to him, bringing his lips closer to his in a kiss that, this time, left no room for doubt. It was not a kiss of passion, but one that seemed to define a boundary, a line that both now had crossed.

When they broke away, Y/N looked at him intently, the breath that was escaping her the fastest. "Don’t ever allow yourself to do that again," you said, but your tone was so fragile as if you were not so sure you wanted to keep that distance.

Jay smiled as if he understood something more than you. «Don’t worry. There’s no need to talk about it. I know how you feel. I want only want you.»

But Y/N, even as she struggled with the emotions that were starting to mount inside her, detached herself from him, looking at him with an indecipherable expression. " I’m not a toy, Jay. And I don’t want to be treated like that."

Jay watched you for a moment, but he didn’t answer. He felt conflicted with you, but somehow the bond you were building kept deepening. And he knew in his mind that he would never be willing to let go of someone like you.

The weekend had arrived and, as usual, the cafeteria was a mix of chaos and tranquility, but this time there was something different in the air. Jay had not shown up for work and not only that morning but for 3 days, and it was immediately clear that his absence weighed on you. You felt frustrated and, for the first time, even a little angry. You knew that Jay had his priorities, the baseball team above all, but you never would have imagined that he would disappear without even a warning, You had discovered that he went to Japan for a game thanks to the social media of the university team and I asked you where had gone the girl a few months ago who didn’t care about these things?

While you were making coffee, the thought of Jay skipping the weekend without telling you anything made you bite your lower lip. Maybe he thought you would understand, that you would be comfortable with his absence, but you weren’t the type who easily accepted being put on the back burner. Although you were always sympathetic to him, you felt slightly angry at the time for the feelings you were beginning to feel for him. After all, there were no signs that Jay would consider you a priority, were there?

"Why didn’t he even warn me?" you mumbled in a low voice

The hours passed and his frustration grew ever greater. The evening was coming and, although you had a lot to do, the thought of Jay did not leave you, in the maxi screen of the cafeteria came a lot of his friends including Jungwon to see the game late in the morning and everyone talked about him.

Perhaps you needed a break, to forget for a while its presence in the cafeteria and your heart.

That night you went back to the apartment and it was empty because T/L was from Jungwon. You took a hot shower but after a few minutes, you heard the beep of a message on your phone.

The news you were waiting for, or perhaps that you feared, had arrived: Jay was back in Seoul. And instead of going straight home, he went to your house without changing.

You looked at the message, uncertain whether to answer or not. "Why now?" you thought with a mixture of curiosity and irritation.

A few minutes later, you heard the bell ring, and when you noticed Jay appeared, with his bad boy air that seemed to be an integral part of him. He hadn’t even changed his team logo sweatshirt, but you noticed him right away, the one who knew how to draw everyone’s attention in the room.

«Hey,» he said, with his smile that had a shadow of sincerity that could not hide. «I thought it would be nice to stop by before going home. I missed you.»

You looked at him with a mixture of disapproval and disbelief. "You missed me? Yet you didn’t even have the decency to warn me that you wouldn’t come to work."

Jay stepped towards you, but you moved away from him so that he would not be too far behind. «I’m sorry,» he said sincerely. «The team needs me, you know. But... it’s not that. I really missed you. I didn’t think I would miss being away from you so much. I didn’t write because I wanted to give you some space for what happened in the bar with that guy...».

Jay’s words touched you more than you wanted to admit. But your anger didn’t go away so easily. Despite missing him, you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was gone without even giving her a warning.

"Here’s the bad boy that everyone loves, who goes away without a word," You said, trying to keep his coolness. "And now you’re coming back to me like nothing happened."

Jay looked at you intensely, and his smile slowly faded. He knew his actions had hurt you, but he couldn’t control his desire to be with you. Your presence was the only thing that made him feel...complete, even if he did not want to admit it out loud.

He came to you and put a hand gently on your cheek and with his thumb caressed it. «I didn’t want to upset you,» he said, his voice softer than it had ever been before. «I just want to be with you. You’re important to me.»

You felt your heart beat faster, and despite all that you had felt for his absence, you could not ignore the fact that Jay had always specially treated you, in a way no one else had ever done.

But you didn’t want to be just a "secondary priority" in his life. He’s tired of feeling like that as if you were just a hobby for him.

"Is it too much?" you asked him, a little angry. "Is it not enough that I make room for you in my life, Jay?"

He stared at you for a moment, and then, with a calm he had never before, wrapped you in a hug. «No. I never have enough,» he said, whispering to your neck. «Because you are the only thing I want and now I will show you.»

Jay pushes you into bed while he continues to kiss you and takes off that wrinkled shirt and the short shorts you used as pajamas, touches your panties slightly but he was rid of them immediately also, and lays you near the edge to make you come.

«Stretch it out more, darling, today I will make you feel good». His voice is hoarse as his hands go to press on your thighs until he has no sight of your sparkling pussy.

His cock is flinching at the sight of your beautiful pussy. Fuck. You’re dripping in your excitement, and all he did was kiss you. Yet, there is already a messy web of excitement covering your swollen lips. She growls slightly when she sees your beautiful pussy clenching for the need to have her fingers inside and his cock.

You’re milking gently when Jay presses his middle finger and index against your pussy to spread your lips. The warmth of his fingers is different from when you touch yourself it’s much better, "Jay more pls, it’s much nicer to feel your fingers around me than mine that are small". Jay, when he heard this phrase stopped for a moment to look at you, how was it possible that the girl who scolded him constantly touched?

Jay puts two fingers between your folds. He curls it and slowly pumps it, feeling your hot wet pussy stretch around his long fingers. Just as he thought you were tight and had to prepare you for his cock.

«Fuck, sunshine. You’re so sensitive and wet just for me» His growl is deep and makes you clench his fingers. «I need to taste you."

The excitement clouds your mind and makes you feel drunk as it pumps more and more of its long fingers around your pussy. The way Jay looks at you like you’re the thing he wants most in the world makes you gush out of his fingers. Her hot mouth clings to your clitoris, swirling her tongue around the sensitive bud. You scream as his fingers slowly start to fuck your hole, reaching out to prepare for his cock.

"Jay" You scream as you bow back, pressing your pussy against his face in search of release.

Your groans stop when he forces his tongue into the tightness of your pussy. The moans she gives you make you release more juices in her mouth while waiting.

«Fuck, Y/N.» Jay moans in your soggy pussy. «You have a sweet pussy, the most beautiful and the sweetest."

All you can focus on is the way his tongue penetrates you with a force that makes you see stars. He skilfully slides his soft tongue along your aching folds until all you can do is shout for him. Jay smiles between your folds, fingers slowly massaging you deep.

When you look down you see that he is looking at you with unconditional desire, Jay groans along with you as you come all over his face. His cock contracts against the sheets as you keep moving your hips to crush your pussy in her mouth. With a low moan, she continues, using her tongue to fuck you during your orgasm.

You’re a panting disaster when it moves away. His chin is covered by your release and for a moment you wonder how someone can be so fucking attractive.

«Are you ready?" said Jay as he took off his Calvin Klein boxer shorts and saw his cock already erect and how reddish

"I didn’t think the campus rock star would ask if a girl is ready to get fucked by him" You watched with your mouth slightly drooling as he slowly caresses, smearing the presenial liquid that drips from his thick tip all over his venous length.

«Stop teasing me, sunshine, that I have always been too good to you» His voice was sweet but at the same time decisive.

Jay lined up at your entrance and your hands were weaving in his hair, bringing it back to your lips. He immediately returned the kiss, slowly pushing his hips forward and wrapping himself in your tight warmth.

You frown, your lips separated from hers as your face twitched and a moan overflowed from your lips, quickly closing your mouth. «Fuck, you’re so tight, I thought I’d prepared you for sunshine»

You couldn’t say a word, the noises stuck in your throat as he practically split you in half with his dick. In the end, he hit the bottom with a strong push and you could hear every ridge and vein, a deep breath that left him while he spoke, his voice trembled, «I’m about to start moving»

«move Jay pls, I need to hear you» whispers, a whimper sliding from your lips as he pulls himself out, pushing back in faster than before.

You couldn’t think clearly, your mind was confused and completely focused on how good you were feeling at the time, how well jay was fucking you, setting a perfect rhythm, and making you feel so good with him.

"Jay, fuck," you mumbled, your hands moving on his neck, his arms, his back, wherever you could grab to root. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed quietly through the room and small moans came out of your lips.

«I will make you cum on my cock. I’ll let you understand that for me you’re not just a hobby but everything for me» he sighed, his hand coming down to press on your stomach, your eyes wriggling back for the pressure, «fuck, you’re taking me so well, sunshine, full of my dick»

He stopped for a second and grabbed your legs and pressed them against your chest, holding them there by the back of his knees as he started moving again, the new angle made him feel even deeper. " Fuck, oh my god", you whined, throwing your head backward against the pillow. Had practically locked you under his grip, unable to do anything but take it all.

A certain push pushed him up against your G-spot, and a broken jolt left your lips as you pulled his hair lightly and began to suck on the sweet spot you loved so much «Right there?»

"Yes, yes, please oh my god," you stammered. he sped up, hitting the perfect spot repeatedly. You feel your high growing fast, the band ready to break.

"I’m close," you whined, and his hand immediately went down to rub circles on your clitoris. The added stimulation pushed you even closer to the limit, your eyes closed.

«Me too, baby. I’ll fill you with my sperm» he groaned, his thrusts became sloppy as he approached the limit, "would you like, this time to be filled not your mouth but your pussy?»

"please, I need it. I need your sperm", you complain, your hands pulling the sheets harder as you feel the band in your stomach getting tighter, "I’m going to come!"

He accelerated his thrusts, rubbing harder on your clitoris, «come for me»

His words pushed you over the edge, your toes clenched and your eyes rolled back as your orgasm exploded, and your release poured out all over his cock. Your pussy squeezed tight around him, making it harder for Jay to move while he moaned, watching how your face writhed as you succumb to overwhelming pleasure.

«Fuck, baby. you hold me so tight. I’m about to come, I’ll fill you» his voice was choked and trembling, his hips were slamming against yours as he shot his sperm inside of you, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. He swung his hips slowly against yours, helping you both to overcome your heights.

Your breath slowed down as your body relaxed in the sheets, trying to process what had just happened. his forehead fell softly against yours as he pressed a sweet kiss on your lips before freeing your legs, making you put your weak body over his and squeezed you to himself, You still felt his cum gnawing off your pussy but were too exhausted to get up.

Jay sprayed your hair and gave you another little kiss on the forehead «Do you understand that for me you will never be a sunshine pastime? It’s from the first time I saw you that I dreamed of having you, but I didn’t think you had such a difficult character with me»

You laughed lightly against his neck and you leaned even closer to him as you heard his heart beating fast.

"I hope so for you, Jay, because even if at the beginning you irradiated me I always found you fascinating and as I am yours, you will be mine" Jay started to laugh and moved slowly to look you in the eyes. «I didn’t think my favorite barista could be so territorial with me, but I like sunshine!»

I hope you like it:) I had a lot of fun writing this one-shot about Jay🎸

comments and reblog are appreciated

460 notes · View notes

ryiju-muunie · 6 months ago

Note

reader works at a strip club and choso falls in love with her? hes a reguilar and she always igves him private dances? she gets excited to see him? what if another customer tries to get too handsy and choso kicks their ass then takes her into his car and they get freakkyyyyyyyyy??

Let me ride UR Disco Stick!

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!stripper!reader/regular!Choso Kamo Warnings: attempted SA [nothing graphic], semi-violent, strip club AU, love at first sight, Choso is crazy down bad, semi-public masturbation, cumshot, car sex, somewhat exhibitionist, semi-public sex, breeding kink, lap dance, fluff, fondling, sitting cowgirl position, sexual tension, creampie, hands-free ejaculation/orgasm, Word count: 5223 DESC: Ever since Choso stepped into Cherry Girls, he was captivated by you.

REQUESTS are OPEN!

ASHRAF ALANQAR'S GOFUNDME. IF YOU HAVE OVER 1000 IN YOUR BANK ACCOUNT DONATE 1-5 DOLLARS.

NOTES: My friend is helping me with ideas so if this gets crazy blame her tbh. And ALL I've been listening to is City Pop, so take that in mind when reading

Choso wasn’t the type to step foot in strip clubs. He wasn’t even a very sexual guy, never one to masturbate unprompted or take time out of his day to watch porn. So he had no clue what made him pull over that Saturday night as he drove into the city, windows done and light music wafting into his ears. He wasn’t sure why Cherry Girls, of all places, caught his eye. The bright pink LED lights flashed in his peripherals, making his head turn just a bit. The sign was in the shape of a cherry, illuminating the city life. It was nice, in between a few dull buildings. It lit up the night and made him smile as he drove past. It was about 10 PM when he walked up, one hand in his black skinny jeans pocket and the other on his ID. He had seen a few movies to know how it would go.

He had just left a gathering with friends from college, nothing unusual. So the man's outfit was more casual than he’d typically dress. Black pants and a tighter black top, without any sleeves. It had some logo on it that he was unfamiliar with, but he wasn’t disappointed in how it framed his chest. To say he was scrawny would be a disservice to his body, molded perfectly to accentuate his muscles. He was built, but not intensely so.

Kamo’s hair was also different that night, instead of up in his usual style he had opted to wear it down around his face. Usually, it would be up in smaller puffs. Something cute that set his look apart from the rest of his peers. Approachable even. Without that, or even a touch of purple eyeshadow, he looked like a douchebag. Maybe it was the resting bitch face or that constant awkward smile that made him look unapproachable. But with the makeup and hair? More of a cutie-patootie!

After the man was let in, he was bombarded with pink lights and waves of perfume. It was an elixir, how it drew him in. LED lights shined on a stage in the center of the building, that’s what his eyes focused on. Anyone else would take a moment to scan their surroundings to take it all in, but he was stuck. He couldn’t stop staring at that stage and the perfectly thick legs that graced it. It was you. Your body was barely contained in thin straps and buckles. Curves spilled over each piece of fabric in an addictingly attractive way. You were addicting. His eyes trailed to your face as his body moved him to sit at the first seat available, drinking you in. You had a round face, completed with perfect features. They fit you in ways he didn’t know were possible. Facial harmony? Whatever it was, you had it. Your hair framed your face in a style he wasn’t sure the name of, with a few bows to make it come together. Gorgeous. You were utterly gorgeous.

How was it that an angel was walking among humans and he was just informed? And it was strange, from the first time he had seen you, he felt a rush of arousal. No woman had made him aroused by their face or their movements. As you glided up the pole, he was throbbing. Your head leaned back as your face did all the talking, your lips painted in red. They fit your face and contorted in a way that made you appear to have said something, without anything being uttered from your mouth.

Choso wasn’t the type to set foot in strip clubs, and he wasn’t the type to masturbate in public. But he was seriously considering it at that moment. His erection poked through his jeans and strained the cloth. He exhaled a shaky breath and pressed his palm into the center, trying to wain it in some way. Yet, that was a mistake. It was sensitive and god that touch felt good. What would your touch feel like? What would your dainty hands do if they got the chance to touch his erection? How would they wrap around his cock and how would they satisfy him? And your mouth; How would your lips suck his tip and how would your tongue lick his slit? Just these thoughts alone were sending pleasurable shivers up his length.

Bouts of pre-cum were staining his boxers and god he was so close he could feel it. If you could just touch him; If you could just breathe into his ear. Something, just anything from you would be enough. His breath hitched and his eyes closed, head leaning back into his seat. Kamo was inching toward a climax he wasn’t even sure would be possible just imagining you. How would your pussy feel between his fingers, wet and sloppy on his dick? How tight would you be and how bad would he have to stretch you out before he could take all his length? Your hips would be perfect anchors for his hands as he would plow up into you, from behind, or even from on top. Love handles would be good too, he’d take anything. Just to graze your ass with his boner and grind until he found relief.

And then it was too much, Choso felt himself spill over the edge in a hot burst of emotion. He gasped and opened his eyes to see your face grinning at the audience as you turned. Cum poured in spurts from his tip, warm and sticky into his underwear and coating himself in white. It was so hot, he gripped the seat beneath him and tried to hide his noises. But it was so hard to even sit still. A low growl, almost a whine, escaped his lips as he bit down, grinding his teeth. With his back arched, the male began to pant and pray no one had heard him.

As he came down from his high, he had to come to terms with exactly what happened. You had just made him cum without any touch at all, without even knowing it. It was one of the best orgasms he had ever had, from his mind alone. He needed more.

Getting a private dance was easy, the details being a bit fuzzy in Kamo’s mind. All he could focus on was sitting in a lounge chair in a small, yet desolate room. It had soft red walls with low lighting that made everything seem darker than it actually was. Maybe it was to further the arousal building again in his lower abdomen. Again? He wasn’t sure how, but he was finding himself becoming hard again just at the thought of you. Was this what it was like to be down bad? Down astronomical?

His thoughts got interrupted when you entered the room, lacy black set making his body turn on fire. A lump in the man's throat formed when you spoke in your angelic voice, “Choso, right?” You introduced yourself, turning a bit shy when you saw his very large erection forming in his skinny jeans, “Excited huh?”

He couldn’t speak, well it felt like it. With a loud swallow, the male attempted to form some coherent words, “Y..yeah. I guess you could say that.” Embarrassment filled his face in the form of a pink stain, blushing his cheeks and dabbling his nose. Was this what it felt like to pay for a woman to give him attention? For thirty minutes you were all his, and all he could do was stare as you moved your body.

“It’s okay. I know it’s your first time too,” you cooed, closing the door with your hip as you continued softly, “I’ll be gentle…” That tone, it was better than he could have imagined. If you didn’t stop soon he knew he’d be in deep shit. Choso’s hands tightened on the armrest as you approached, putting a hand atop his. Something about your eyes was telling him to relax and he wanted to listen. He wanted to give in and let you have your way with him for as long as you wanted, until you were tired of him. Until he was completely and utterly yours.

He let go of the armrest and you smiled, “Good boy. I’ll take it slow too,” your voice was music to his ears, so the raven-haired male let himself close his eyes for a moment to compose himself. Your perfume, a mix of chocolate and cherries filled his nose. It was sweet and pleasurable. He didn’t realize you were getting closer until his eyes fluttered open. Kamo felt his breath hitch when your face was mere inches from his own, lips forming a pout.

“H-Hey…” He breathed out, and you smiled.

“Hi, handsome,” your breath was sweet too, like candy. Before he knew it, you seated yourself on his lap, hovering over his obvious boner. It was hard to avoid, but you managed to keep your distance. This was getting too much for him and it hadn’t even begun. Your smell, your presence, it was going to make him spill over the edge again and again if you let him.

“You can touch me, baby,” you smiled through white teeth, leaning back and pressing your hefty breasts together, hands lightly thrumming on your own skin, “Tell me your fantasy.” This was different than anything he had ever seen in a movie. Was he supposed to touch you? Was this how you always operated in the club or was he special? God, Choso hoped he was special just for you.

“I want,” Choso’s voice stuck to his throat thickly, as he attempted to form words, “You…” And there it was, an opportunity to touch you. He didn’t take it for granted, placing two hands gingerly on your love handles. They were as soft as he had imagined, ever more so. Then his palms trailed to your hips, squeezing just a bit to see some kind of reaction. You bit your red bottom lip and inhaled just a bit, something he noticed and something he couldn’t help but drink in. You were intoxicating. He was practically drunk already and close to staining his underwear in pure white bliss.

“I want you,” the customer began again, focusing his eyes on your face with a sense of determination, “To ride me…” And he let out a small moan when you leaned into his touch, your clothed cunt grazing against his erection. That was enough and he groaned, trying his hardest to keep it in but he couldn’t, orgasming there on the spot in hot bouts of pleasure. He inhaled and whined lowly, throwing his head back and squeezing your hips to keep himself stable. Pleasure and orgasmic joy ran through his cock as his swollen urethra cried out hot cum into his jeans.

Your face looked a bit shocked at his actions, clearly understanding what had happened. But you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, your hands made home on his chest and rubbed small circles with your palms, fingers stretched out, “You want me, huh?” Your voice was teasing, almost rubbing salt into the wound. But he didn’t hear it. He could feel the throbbing in his ears getting louder and the throbbing in his pants started up again. What was going on with him? Never in his life had he come that much, especially without some form of physical stimulation.

“I …” Choso’s mind blanked when his eyes refocused onto you, leaning toward your touch. This was so overstimulating to be with you here, it was … nice in a way. All his senses could do was focus on you and your touch. Your beautiful and amazing touch. He needed to savor this for as long as he possibly could until his time with you was up.

The man wasn’t sure how long he stayed with you seated atop his lap, but it wasn’t enough. When he left, he couldn’t help but think about your touch. It was heavenly, so heavenly he couldn’t stop but get aroused again. This time it was more of a burn than anything he had felt before. It was a fiery sensation burning in his cock as he sat in his car. It was different than the last times because it was an innate hunger deep inside his lower abdomen. It was different because he had to touch himself or he might’ve just dropped dead then and there.

Your face, he could see it contort in pleasure as he unzipped his pants. And your warmth, he could feel it when he snaked a hand around his length. This was nice, closing his eyes and feeling your walls clench around him, as his hand stroked himself slowly. Teasingly, tauntingly. He wanted to savor this newfound pleasure for as long as he physically could until he had to go home.

Kamo could feel your face press against his shoulder as you rode him, whining for more. You’d be needy, no matter how much game you talked. He could tell you’d beg for him to fuck you and you’d cry as he pounded you. He’d like that, to fuck you nice and good, huh? He’d make you beg for it, and make you ride it with your hands forced behind your back until you sobbed. He’d make you his, mark you with his mouth until you were covered in hickies. All over your thick breasts until your nipples were sore from his tongue, practically bleeding from how much he’d abuse them with his teeth.

He could hear you whine, basically, he could hear you crying for him. He’d fuck you good. He’d be the perfect boyfriend, too. No matter what you wanted, the man would get it for you. And meals? He’d cook! You didn’t want to clean? He’d clean! Choso would be your house husband if he could just be yours.

When he came, his cock was throbbing. He was milked beyond belief, leaking slowly into his palm as he gasped. Guttural groans filled the air he arched his back to the sensation. It was so good, and it would’ve been better if it was your hands. If it was your pussy, squelching as he made you, his.

And he was going to make you, his.

Choso didn’t want to admit it, but he was going to come back every Saturday until he married you. Was it too forward to already think of vows or what colors would be prominent at your wedding? Probably! Was he doing it anyway? Absolutely!!

The first time you saw him again, you did a double take. Now he knew he was going to be going to the club, so he had time to get ready. He spent an hour doing his hair in his signature puffs, then his eye makeup in purple and red, followed by some eyeliner. Just one line from his eyelid down to his cheek on either eye, followed by tight-lining his eyes. He felt a bit overdressed, but those insecurities faded when he saw you. You were in a light blue lingerie set, something that accentuated your skin tone. And, it didn’t cover much. His eyes wandered for a moment as he found himself a seat at the front, by the stage.

The man wasn’t expecting much from this, but he hoped to have a private room with you again. Something to see you and feel you. Maybe this time he’d be able to compose himself long enough to fondle your breasts, or even squeeze your ass. Just seeing you in your glory, walking around to talk to guests was making him feel a certain type of way again.

It was quickly stopped by a man who approached you. He was taller and probably more intoxicated than anyone else in the building. The way he walked indicated he could barely even hold himself up, but he had one goal in mind. Getting to you. Maybe Choso was being jealous, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the man. The way he strutted to you and grabbed your arm, shouting something slurred in your direction, it angered him. How dare this man? What nerve did he have to think he could ever talk to a woman like that? Spouting such bile to someone as beautiful and amazing as you? He continued to pull at your arm as you shook your head and pulled it back, grabbing a drink from a nearby tray and throwing it to his face.

No one was coming quick enough. Why weren’t the bodyguards handling this? Why wasn’t someone doing anything?

Kamo stood and dusted his pants off. He hadn’t wanted to get involved in an outfit he liked so much, but for you, he’d do anything. He was hooked on you, your voice, your scent, your hair, your everything … all after one day. So you shouldn’t have been surprised when he walked up to the much taller man and socked him in the jaw. There was a very high chance that could have gone south, or completely missed. But somehow, his balled-up fist plowed the guy in the head, enough to make him stumble. Of course, it wouldn’t have knocked him over. But he was aiming to disorient enough to get you to the back or somewhere safe.

“Choso?” You spoke, grabbing onto his arm, “You… really didn’t have to do that.” Before he could respond, the drunken man attempted to tackle Choso down. Thankfully for him, you grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the way. He stumbled forward and looked at you, smiling thankfully before turning his attention to the drunken man who was not giving up any time soon. Maybe punching him was a bad idea.

“Um,” he pressed his lips together, before forming a very awkward smile, “Will you marry me?” The drunk was busy grabbing a chair to throw, giving the two of you a few seconds before disaster. And of course, with the adrenaline, he wasn’t thinking.

“What?!” You whipped your head to him.

“Come to my car?” He said instead, offering his hand to you. The most he could do was offer you a ride home and hope security would take care of the issue. And a part of him really hoped you’d say yes for selfish reasons. He wanted you to trust him and let him in, and maybe then your relationship would blossom. Maybe then, you’d kiss him. It was farfetched as hell to imagine he’d get anything more than a handshake out of this, but he wanted to hope.

You took his hand and let him swiftly lead you to his old beat-up Kiya, parked quite a ways away, “Um. You didn’t have to do that.”

Kamo shook his head to dismiss that thought from your mouth, “I wanted to. No one else was going to protect you.” With a smile he clicked his keys, seeing his car light up a few spots ahead, “We can just wait in here until they kick him out, uhm, you know.” Your face lit up in a way he hadn’t seen before. Something sweet about it. It was a mix of relief and happiness. Your lips pursed together into a pout and your face began to redden. To Choso, it was adorable. He wanted to take you and hold you in his arms, vowing to protect you from the world and anyone who dared hurt you. Maybe that was extreme. But he would give his right arm just to hold you for a minute, pressing you close against his chest and closing his eyes, as he smelt your hair.

“Thank you, Choso. You didn’t have to,” was all you spoke, quiet and soft. It was a change from how seductive and snarky you could be, and he liked it more. It was a more genuine side to you, and the man wanted to see more of it.

He led you to his car, turned it on, and opened the back door for you to sit. He just assumed you’d prefer the room in the back rather than the small seats up front. Sitting beside you, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you looked out the car window. It was nice for a moment, to smell your perfume and to see you look comfortable. The way your body molded to the seat as you just sat there, your stomach bunching together in rolls, and how you leaned against one arm. You were cute. You were amazing.

“Um,” Choso broke the silence after a moment, watching your head turn to him. Your eyes scanned his face and you smiled, awaiting his next words, “Are you cold? I could give you a spare jacket…?” His voice trailed off when you pressed your glossy lips together.

“I could come closer to you?” You asked, tilting your head to the side and letting a few loose strands from your hairstyle fall across your forehead. Without being able to think if it was appropriate, Kamo reached forward and gently pushed some of the hairs away from your face, just so he could see all of your beauty in the moonlight. He hadn’t fully registered what you said until a few moments later when a red blush trailed up his temples. You wanted to sit next to him? You wanted him? It was hard for the male to imagine that the way he felt about you could ever be reciprocated. He didn’t speak but instead nodded. A smile, wider than before, pulled at your full lips as you scooted closer. Your big thighs stuck to the leather seats as you crawled toward him, sitting down right beside him. Your plush hand fell atop his and your eyes met.

Was this intimacy? Was intimacy more than simply fucking each other, but instead feeling a deep, soulful connection? Choso, in all honesty, had never felt a connection to someone so soon and so intensely, without knowing them. You were different. In the way you carried yourself and how he was beginning to see your mind too. It was different. Of course, your beauty captivated him. But you had something special to you hidden beneath the jewels of your flesh. Your warmth was comforting to him as you leaned your side against his. Hands on hands and skin on skin. That was what the raven-haired male liked. He needed you. He needed to make sure you were okay, and if you were, that was all that mattered.

Slowly, as the evening progressed he found you inching your way closer to his body until you were practically on top of him. Your arm weasled its way around him and pulled the man closer, letting you be one. His arm found its way around your shoulders. Without saying anything he pulled you in and let you rest. You were in control of the situation. Anything you wanted to do him he would comply and follow to any extent you wanted him to. If all you wanted was his warmth and his arm, he’d give you both without hesitation.

And slowly, you sat up and stared into his eyes. There was another look there than what he had seen the last week. Rather than a calculated lustful look, designed to make any man's knees weak, it was genuine. It was longing in a way he hadn’t seen in anyone in so long. You stared at him like he was a treasure you wanted to take apart and search with delicate hands, terrified of destroying. You looked at him with wide eyes, full of desire. But it was a desire to get closer, closer in every sense of the word. You wanted to be in him, on him, with him, near him; Intellectually and physically, mentally and emotionally. Were you as crazy down bad as him??? Honestly … yeah.

Choso uttered your name, low in the base of his throat, before he leaned in. It was slow and methodical and god, he wanted to cave and force your mouth onto his. But he wanted to savor this moment as much as he could, even if it meant putting himself in agony. Your lips met slowly, molding together in harmony for one slow second before you opened your mouth. Inviting him in, you kissed delicately and placed your arms on his sides. He wasn’t sure what to do, but followed your lead, kissing as you did. Your heads turned in opposite directions, opening up for more room to explore with your tongues. The intensity grew, as did the burning desire in his pants to feel your pussy. To feel you, live you, breathe you, he was going insane. Just touching your hair, trying his hardest not to mess it up, was sending hot arousal down his cock into his swollen head.

Deeply and passionately he kissed you as if the world would collapse unless your lips were on his. Deeply he swallowed you whole, just by pressing his mouth onto yours. If you weren’t the one kissing him he would have never wanted to kiss again. His hands found home on your hips and slowly pulled you onto his lap with practical ease. His arms wrapped around your waist and he seated you on his erection. It was so hot to feel your warm, wet, and clothed pussy against his groin, desperately beginning to grind for release. But Choso didn’t want you two to just bump and grind. He needed to be inside you or he was actually going to drop dead.

“Please…” Kamo whined, breaking from the kiss to stare into your eyes with his grey orbs, eyelids hanging low and lashes brushing against his cheeks, “Let me fuck you… I want to.. Mmm.. I want to touch you so bad..” His large hands squeezed your hips again, harder, with more drive. If he wasn’t going to be inside you why would he even live??

You nodded your head quickly and went to work. It was easy to free his cock from his jeans, then his boxers. All you had to do was unzip and pop it out. He was a bit shy to show himself to you, but your wide eyes and slacked jaw proved to him you seemed to like it. The man wouldn’t have considered himself huge but on the bigger end of the spectrum.

He ran his fingers down your front, thumbing your laced pantie set as they trailed further to your core. Just a few more inches and he’d be touching your pussy. If only he could live in it. His index and middle gently pried away the fabric so he could lay eyes on your perfect cunt. Even if it had discoloration, moles, or hair, or it wasn’t what he had seen on porn … he didn’t care. It was yours. Choso had been dreaming of this day for so long [1 SINGULAR WEEK]. He dipped into your wetness, rubbing one small circle just to see your sensitive reaction. Your breath hitched in a way he hadn’t seen before, your muscles clenched in your jaw and your hands rested on his shoulders. Beautiful. You were utterly beautiful.

He pulled your undergarments to the side and lifted you up a bit, attempting to position you in the somewhat dark parked car. You helped a bit, grabbing a hold of his length and stroking up a bit in a teasing motion. Choso stuttered in his movements and slowly lowered you down. He was going to cum from pure impact alone. He already knew he wasn’t going to last long, but your pussy was making it damn near impossible. Tight walls enveloped his cock, covering it like a warm and soft hug as they stretched to accommodate his girth. Wetness spread down his member and for a moment he swore he could’ve felt you pulsate above him.

“Choso,” you spoke impatiently, grabbing a hold of his face and pulling him in, “Please just … kiss me or something.” That was all you needed to say for him to take it from there. His lips met yours quickly, taking peck after peck until his head turned to the side and took in your bottom one. He wanted to do so much in such little time, but he couldn’t be everywhere at once. Big hands took your love handles and rocked you back and forth a bit, just making sure you were adjusted to his penis before he began to thrust you up and down. Kamo wanted you to bounce and cry on his cock until you were nothing more than a blabbering mess. He wanted you to choke on his cum after he face-fucked you, making you swallow every drop. He wanted to do so much in such little time.

He lifted you up just a bit to get a good angle, as he fucked into you. Tight and squishy, and warm and like melted honey on his length. You were so hot, your noises, your face, your fucking pussy. God, it was harder for him to concentrate on kissing you as he was fucking you. Your kisses were needy and incessant as was his urge to breed you- my god. He couldn’t help but barely hang on as white-hot bliss was building deep in his lower abdomen. The male's hips thrust forward, hitting your swollen spot. He could tell he was fucking you oh so good because your lips were trying to catch up with his. Your grip on his shirt got tighter and for a second he swore you were clenching around him tighter than you had before.

“H-Harder.. Mm..- hhah.. Cho-Cho..Choso..” You whimpered, pulling back from the kiss to rest your head on his shoulder. He wasn’t holding back anymore, groaning out as he was beginning to ride out his slow high. The man inhaled and gasped, grunting forward as you moaned. Your moans were perfect. They were music to his ears, making him spill almost instantly. Within seconds of pumping into you, he was fucking his seed right back inside your pretty cunt. He could imagine it, giving you a baby. Making you a pretty mommy as many times as you wanted. He’d never get tired of cuming into your hot pussy and painting your walls milky white.

Choso continued until he heard you cry out and arch your back, biting your lips and trying not to scream. He knew you were cumming then. He was past the point of sensitivity to feel anything, so he continued to fuck you good. All he wanted was to please you and make you cum. Your walls clenched around him as he touched your G-spot, violating it with his cock-head. You came and groaned, biting back another cry as the pleasure crashed throughout your body.

It stayed like that for a minute as he slowed his humping down to a stop, letting you keep a nice seat on his lap. All the two of you could hear were the sounds of your heavy breathing, mixed with the low hum of his car air conditioner.

This is the perfect time to propose, “...About what I, um, said earlier…”

#jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo smut #choso x you #choso smut #choso x reader #choso kamo #jjk choso #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #smut #x reader smut #ryiju-muunie writing

769 notes · View notes

bunny-jpeg · 4 months ago

Text

team principal

max verstappen - team principal au

cw: smut/pwp, driver!reader, team principal!max, age gap (20/45), power dynamic, (slight) bratty behavior, groping, driver's room sex, oral sex (max receives)

as requested by anon: Driver!reader asking team principal max verstappen for a custom line of all pink and feminine merch because the orange just “washes her out” so he does. And he goes ALL out, bright pink Verstappen Racing flare leggings, and baby tee’s with the MV logo plastered on the chest bc what she wants she gets.

like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! <3

being part of verstappen racing meant wearing their logo. it had been the logo that max verstappen himself raced with. the 'm' and the 'v' were known prior to the establishment of the f1 team. every team had their logo from ferrari's stallion to red bull's, well, bulls. even teams like hamilton motorsports had their logo.

the problem with max verstappen's merch wasn't the logo, it was how god awful ugly it was. you had a selection of some of the ugliest merch on the planet. why was it all orange?

you had been convinced that your team principal, your boss, only saw the world through orange hues. that was everything was a shade of orange so awful that it would make mclaren blush!

"this is ugly. this is ugly. this is somehow worse! this looks like a halloween collection rather than actual merch. mister verstappen you make more money than anyone i know, hire someone with design sense!" you shook the shirts in your hand.

you knew that almost every driver on the grid couldn't talk to their boss like that. but it was an poorly kept secret that max verstappen had a soft spot for you. he also fucked you two ways to sunday on a weekly, if not daily basis.

max chuckled and leaned back a little in his office chair, "brand integrity is important, schat. a recognizable brand is important to its value."

you made a face, "well, your brand looks like spirit halloween threw up all over the place." then put the items down forcefully. you put your hands on your hips, "and shouldn't brands take risks? try something new? all of you use the same colours, cuts and styles. it's boring!"

max asked, "then what do you have in mind? since you know so much about a brand. i've been doing this since i was seventeen. almost thirty years, schat. longer than you've known how to walk let alone drive." he raised his eyebrows, "since you know so much, dazzle me with your proposal."

max would let his precious driver bark like a yapping dog. but he knew how to keep you quiet. he watched you cower for a moment, realizing that you took it a step too far. max smiled with his face rested against his fist.

you swallowed, "maybe something a little more... feminine.. pink. something cute." you leaned forward at his desk a little, the shirt you wore was his and was a little big on you. your movements revealed the start of a hickey he left on your shoulder the night prior, "mister verstappen, you have the first female driver in a long time. we... could lean into that a little. make it cute!"

max leaned forward in his chair and rested his arms on his desk, "cute? verstappen racing is supposed to imposing. strength on the track, and you want pink." he chuckled a little, "the alternate logo besides the initials is a lion. lions aren't cute."

you looked at him, "what about that lion stuffed animal you got me? that's cute. i sleep with it every night." you then pouted a little, a look that always made max weak. you shrugged your shoulders a little as you had your hands behind your back. you swayed a little and suggested, "plus, i could model it as well."

max may have known how to shut you up, but you knew how to make the older man weak in the knees. he sighed and kept his gaze on you, his expression a little softer, "fine. we'll see what we can do, schat. maybe you're right about needing to do something a little different. but i hope you know, whatever item we end up with. you have to show off for me."

your pout dropped and was replaced with a smile. you leaned over the desk to be closer to him and kissed him on the mouth. you held his face and smiled against the kiss. when you eventually pulled away, max watched your turn around to skip out of his office. you said to him as you looked over your shoulder, "thank you, mister verstappen."

max verstappen had seen enough in his over forty years on this planet. he had seen many beautiful women over the years, but when he walked into your driver's room and saw you in the newest verstappen merch, he almost fell on his ass. he had seen the line of merch before it got into your hands, but to see you in them was another story.

you were in a pink skirt from home that was almost the exact colour of the baby pink of the baby tee that you were wearing. laid out on the couch of the room was the rest of the merch. the flare leggings, the bucket hat, the baseball cap, a form fitting tank top and even an oversized button up.

all in sickening baby pink.

so much for verstappen being predators on the track. not when you were sickeningly beautiful in the clothing. max held onto the door to the room for a moment to compose himself before he stepped in and shut the door loudly behind him.

"oh!" you perked up as you turned away from the mirror to look at your boss. you smiled at him, "hello, sir." seeing the logo of the team across your tits made his eyes go wide.

"hi." he said as he swallowed, "did they give you the wrong size?" he stepped forward and reached out for you, "and where did you get this skirt?"

you smiled, "oh! this is supposed to be my right size. that's just how the tee are!" he could see your curves and a bit of your stomach. you then added, "and the skirt is from home. i bought it for a matching outfit thing." you swayed your hips from side to side.

this was supposed to be your outfit for media day. something to show off the brand. max scratched the back of his neck and stepped forward. he placed his hands on your hips and gazed at you.

"you're not going out like this. no, no. there has to be something else to wear." he approved all of the items. he saw them from concept to final product. and now you were in the driver's room looking like a whore.

"what about it?" you pouted.

he pulled at the bottom of your shirt and you yelped as it was taken over your head. he made a small disappointed noise as he tossed the shirt to the side. he licked his lips at the sight of your breasts. this was beyond any code violation. if you two got caught. but it was better than you walking around the media section in that shirt.

"you look like you're selling sex rather than the brand! you look like a whore." he said as he held onto your hips. he could feel the leap in his chest at the sight of your breasts on full display for him. only for him.

"doesn't sex sell, mister verstappen?" you said as you pouted a little and you were pulled up against him. your hands on the front of his button up, with his logo on it. you spread your hand across his chest, he noticed that your nails were painted the same pretty pink as the merch. you held onto him as he took you by the ass to press up against him.

"not this kind of sex. this is an invitation for you to cause problems. what if that skirt flips up? what if your nipples poke through the shirt. what is the press got the wrong idea and thought you were a slut." he explained. he spoke like you were a bratty girl who needed to be scolded. to be taught the right way.

you pouted further, "i'm not a slut."

max pushed up your pink tennis skirt over your ass and grabbed handfuls of your ass. it made you yelp and max closed in the space between your lips. before he kissed he said, "i know you're not. but, when you dress like this, you look like one." then kissed you deeply.

his strong hands groped your ass as you felt his cock up against your middle. you shuddered at the feeling of it. you knew that max was quite big. you squirmed a little against him and kissed him deeper.

when he pulled away, he got you down on the couch roughly. you bounced a little and looked up at him. you stuck your chest out a little more and max looked down at you as he rubbed his cock through his slacks. for one of the top racers in the world, you sure looked beautiful below him.

"mister verstappen." you said before you were met with his cock in your face. you didn't say much else but rather wrapped your lips around his cock and let him hold the back of your head. you placed your hands on his strong thighs for support as you took his cock as deep as you could take it.

max shuddered at the feeling of you. you felt like a dream in his grasp. a beauty beyond all others. despite the age gap and the power dynamics, max knew that he could make you top of the grid. you'd be winning championships that would make other drivers jealous.

as you sucked his cock, max saw your future. world champion of formula one. pretty trophies in your apartment in monaco. he already had you in a multi-year contract and no clause to get out of it. first wear the verstappen racing logo then have the verstappen last name. only fitting for a champion after all.

a strong driver needs a strong last name. and as you looked up at him with that soft gaze of yours he panted a little heavier. all dolled up for him, in his merch. you were right about the need for cuter clothes, that orange washed you out. you looked cuter in the soft pinks.

"you look good like this." he said as he tapped your nose and you made a playful noise. too precious, too beautiful for him. he loved the sight of you seated with his cock in your mouth.

you continued to suck him off and max got both hands in your hair. he pressed you up against him a little tighter and let your throat clench around his cock. he remembered the first time you sputtered and coughed when he came in your mouth. but now you took it all like the champion he knew you were.

"you're going to do so well for the press." he said, "answer all their questions. be a good girl. you know you will be. just like you are now, taking me so beautifully." he patted your cheek lovingly before he pulled you further onto his cock once more.

he watched you shudder against him as you tried to take his entire length. you could almost feel his pubic hair against your nose as you whined against him. you whined a little bit from the back of your throat and continued to suck him off. you brought him pleasure that made the team principal see stars.

he cupped your face in those large hands for a moment, "you like that don't you? having me in your throat, you're so beautiful. i don't know if anyone told you about the bidding war to get you on my team." your eyes fluttered shut and he exhaled deeply, "had to play dirty."

you whimpered in response. you didn't know about the bidding war for you a year earlier. you knew that you had a few offers when you ended up in formula one.

those blue eyes looked down at you and max licked his lips. you could feel his gaze on you as he continued to rock up into your throat. he panted a little, he could feel his shirt cling to his toned back from the sweat. "not easy to get under hamilton's skin. but i got him to back off, the same with red bull. i only wanted the best and i got it. now she's sucking my cock and wearing my logo."

you whined a little bit and it was music to max's ears. you were his prize. your teammate was good too, but max didn't hear church bells when he was around. you were max's pet project, that he just simply happened to fuck often.

he'd make you a champion. team principals played favourites all the time, and max in a way was no better than them. at least max got something else out of it. those pretty soft lips around his cock. he held onto you tightly as he continued to thrust into your mouth.

you clung to him as you could feel the ache in your throat. you kept your eyes closed and you were wet between the thighs. max briefly got more aggressive with his thrusts before he finished in your mouth. you whimpered and swallowed it eagerly.

the salty taste in your mouth was familiar and you opened your eyes to look at your boss. when you pulled your mouth off of his cock. you kissed the tip and smiled at him a little.

if max had more time, he'd be making a full mess of you. but the press would want to see the star of the track soon enough. he rubbed his cock up against your lips and nose before he said, "i want you to wear the merch next time i fuck you. you're mine, got it?"

you nodded softly and said, "yes, mister verstappen. always."

when you did the interview, you still wore the outfit. despite protests from your boss. you were all smiles for the camera, but max lingered close by. just in case someone got the wrong idea. as if max's name and logo weren't plastered across your pretty tits. but, it did get the older man thinking as he watched from a short distance.

max's mind wandered to other ways to have you wear his logo. he wondered if collars and chokers were still popular with young women. he wondered if he could get you in something with a tag with his name on it. maybe it wouldn't be sold as merch for the public, but he wouldn't mind if his star driver wore it. <3

1K notes · View notes

emmyrosee · 3 months ago

Note

May I request opening a bakery with Sukuna…preferably with baby brother Yuji in tow 🥹

Tysm if u do this. ily! ❤️

OKAY BUT IMAGINE YUUJI IN A TINY APRON AND HAT WITH THE LOGO ON IT, UGH-

Just imagining sukuna in the back, baking his life away with his grandmother’s secret recipes in the back of his mind as he uses his big muscles to work the doughs and sweets into the shapes he desires. Donuts, croissants, cookies, any pastry he remembers from his youth, he bakes in the back to share them with the world.

Especially since yuuji never got to indulge in them. Part of this is for him, too.

You manage the front mostly, his paranoia of you getting burned keeping you from the kitchen- not to mention, his customer service skills certainly are not up to par with that of owning a business- helping guests and handling the cash. Every now and again, to restock the shelves, he carries out a big tray filled with pastries, and he presses a kiss to your lips as he walks by.

Yuuji loves to watch his brother bake. Same thing with the fear of his little brother burning himself in the back, or knocking something over and getting hurt, Sukuna tries his hardest to instate the rule of not being in the kitchen, but the little boy can’t help it. He loves to watch, to observe- sometimes, sukuna gives him a cookie, and that doesn’t help the ‘stay out of the kitchen’ rule- and ask questions. But other times, yuuji likes to be up front with you, plopped on a little stool next to the register while he reads out the total for the guests.

The hat is too big for his head, and you often find yourself adjusting it for him, and his little apron is covered in melted chocolate chips and frosting. But you don’t mind. He’s so cute, it’s hard to. Especially when he comes out the back with sticky glaze on his cheeks, and you smile and put your hands on his hips. “Yuuji, did sukuna give you a donut?”

“…no,” he lies.

You thumb at his cheek, making him giggle, “so if I go back there, there won’t be a missing donut?”

He giggles again, “no.”

As if on cue, your boyfriend comes out of the back, big tray in his arms as you eye him. He freezes, “what’re you looking at?”

“It’s just before his lunch, Sukuna.”

“And?”

“You gave him a donut?”

Red eyes furrow and look at his brother, “I thought I told you to save that for dessert, you little brat.”

“I was too excited,” yuuji confesses, but he’s still smiling, not hiding his guilt very well.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, “I’ll deal with you later. For now, go in the back and eat the sandwich mom made you.”

“Not hungry,” the child says.

Sukuna’s nostrils flare and he closes his eyes, “okay, let’s try this again. Go in the back and eat the sandwich mom made, because if you get sick from all the sugar and no real food, and mom yells at me, I’m going to get you, you hear me?”

The tiny boy squeals and runs to the back room, leaving you and your boyfriend in the front, where some patrons sip their teas and watch Yuuji go. You shake your head and give him a kiss, “get him with what?” You ask.

He shrugs, “I dunno. I’ve never had to get that far, the fear I instill usually makes him do what I ask.”

“‘The fear you instill?’” You snicker.

“Yeah,” he says, winking. “You’d better watch your back too.” He walks past you to start stocking the shelves with fresh pastries.

You smirk and bump your hip with his, “maybe I won’t.”

438 notes · View notes

shybunnie20 · 10 months ago

Text

BFF!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

friends to lovers

★Locations ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie calls on you to help him plan his first date, and you wish that you were the one going on it with him.

Author's Note: This isn't quite as polished as I'd like it to be. But, I'm pushing through my last few weeks of college, so I'm working with the few brain cells I've got left lol. I still love how it turned out and the ending is worth all of the self-loathing, I promise.

No use of Y/N, est. friendship, ages aren’t specified but E & R are approx. in their early twenties & it’s an early 90s AU, Reader has never been asked on a date before. Mild angst with happy ending!

Word count: 8.9k

Warnings: Reader dwells on poor self-worth & feels undesirable, acts of eating and multiple mentions of food, contains profanity.

Nestled in the quaint corner of Campbell Ave and 2nd Street, you’re engrossed in a call with a customer, jotting down an order for two bouquets consisting of pink-white lilies and snapdragons. Your eyes follow the effortless glide of your glitter gel pen across the paper, detailing their contact information.

Similarly to Goldilocks, you’ve found a place of employment where the pace is just right. You can handle whatever tasks Joan, the owner, asks of you. Sweeping the wood floors with a stiff-bristled broom, tending to the plants, and arranging flowers adorned with decorative ribbon and crisp paper are all within your grasp.

This place gets steady business, but the concept of a lunch or dinner rush is nonexistent. However, you do face a unique kind of rush occasionally. Now and then, a frantic lover bursts through the doors, bug-eyed, having realized they’ve forgotten a special anniversary or birthday at the very last minute.

As you recite the customer’s order and callback number into the phone’s receiver, their confirmational “uh huhs” cut through the buzz of the line. Suddenly, your attention is diverted by the sight of a van pulling into the parking spot out front, slightly askew. A small smile teases the corners of your mouth as you make a conscious effort to refocus on closing the conversation at hand.

The plastic shell of the phone clacks as you hang up, and you watch Eddie hop out of his van, and round the front of it with an unusual pep in his step—more than you’d see his best days.

“What’s up, buttercup?” Eddie’s voice carries across the room, accompanied by a genuine smile that lights up his face. He strides to the register counter you’re currently manning, wearing a vermillion polo shirt embellished with the neatly embroidered String and Strum shop logo on the breast. His hair is pushed back from his face with a black bandana, resembling a biker-like edge, tied firmly to ensure no stray curls disrupt his work as he repairs guitars and sells instruments for commission.

In seconds flat, he’s already scrunching his nose like a bunny, sensing a sneeze on the horizon. Being in a room packed with fresh plants is nothing short of hell, but he’s willing to endure it for the sake of seeing you. While he can handle flowers in small quantities, the confined space never fails to tickle his system like nobody’s business.

Vision blurring with mild irritation, Eddie blinks hard to disperse it. “Hey, how’s today going?”

You shrug, suppressing a giggle at the wiggle of his nose. “As good as it can, I guess. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

Eddie sets a grease-stained paper bag on the counter that separates you, along with a cup of soda. “Figured you could use a midday pick-me-up.”

“Must be my lucky day because I overslept and didn’t have time to pack a lunch. Well, that and I found a penny on the sidewalk.”

Eddie crosses his arms and tilts his head. “Don’t give luck all the credit. I have instinctual powers, y’know. My Munson senses were tingling and I knew you were in need.”

“My hero,” You exclaim, clasping your hands and swinging them to the side like a swooning princess.

Eddie chuckles with you, watching as you wipe your palms on your apron and eagerly dig into the bag, pulling out a foam to-go box. As you promptly open it and take a bite of your lunch, you can’t help but groan and throw your head back in satisfaction. Your eyes meet his thereafter, causing him to twist his mouth to the side and momentarily look away.

“How much do I owe you?” You ask, your words slightly muffled as you continue to chew.

Minnie, Joan’s cat, gracefully leaps onto the counter to greet Eddie. She perches herself beside the cash register, allowing him to scratch under her chin. “Nothin, consider it a favor,” He says with a wet sniffle, the tingling in his nose unrelenting.

The silence that falls is comfortable for you, but he’s seemingly lost in his thoughts as he continues to pet Minnie. Then, he looks at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Speaking of which, I just so happen to know a way that you can return the favor.”

Having taken a sip from your drink and another bite of your food, the inflection of Eddie’s voice causes you to slow your chewing. “And what might that be?”

“Come over later to find out.”

Your shoulders slump, eyes widened with mock defeat. “No! I can’t stand here and wonder all day. I'll die. The suspense will kill me.”

Eddie pouts mockingly, his sweet honey eyes betraying his faux-frown. “Then I'll be sure to have the prettiest floral arrangement for your funeral. Only the best for you.”

Your brows knit together in an authentic pouting. The irony of needing to meet an untimely demise to receive flowers from a guy isn’t lost on you.

He motions toward the untrimmed bundle of carnations on the workbench behind you. “Actually, if you’re not too busy, could you string those up for me quick so they’re ready to go for your wake?”

“Ha-ha.” You leer at him, taking the next bite of your food rather aggressively. “You’re cruel, you know that?”

“I beg to differ since I surprised you with your favorite from Val’s and all,” Eddie retorts, biting the inside of his cheek.

You grumble, “Yeah, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Eddie checks his watch and huffs. “Alright, I’ve gotta get goin’." He raps his knuckles on the countertop and beginning to walk backward. “See you later tonight.” He points at you before spinning on his heel and exiting the shop.

The bulky keyring on Eddie’s jeans jingles loudly as he steps onto the sidewalk. Abruptly, he stops in his tracks. For a moment he’s frozen, and then he braces himself against the nearby lamppost. It hits him like a brick wall and he sneezes mightily.

Heads of nearby passersby turn in his direction, startled by the noise. As he straightens his posture, Eddie remains still, trying to find his center of gravity and regain his composure.

“You good?” You call out, your voice just barely reaching him through the propped-open doors. Taking a casual sip of your drink, you watch as Eddie steadies himself. Still clutching the street lamp with one hand, he manages to stick his other arm out and give a thumbs-up.

True to your word, you arrive at Eddie’s place straight after work. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow through the patio door onto the walls of the living room. The apartment is in its usual state of disarray, expectedly so, since it’s home to three guys who aren’t particularly concerned with tidiness.

Toeing off your shoes, you’re unphased by the subtle smell of dust in the air. What strikes you as odd is how quiet it is. Typically, at least one roommate is home, blasting the TV in the living room or music from their respective bedrooms. But the only sound permeating the silence is the erratic thumping and screech of the water pipes behind the paper-thin walls of the bathroom.

As you snoop around the kitchen, hoping to find a box of saltine crackers or really anything to stop the gurgling in your belly. Having come up empty-handed, you turn your attention to the resilient plant that you challenged Eddie to care for—Keanu Leaves, as he so proudly named it.

Finished with your fruitless search of the kitchen, you make your way into Eddie’s bedroom to settle comfortably into the chair that only you sit in; it’s your spot. While you get cozy, the beans rattle as they perfectly mold to your figure. You knock on the wall beside you, signaling your arrival to Eddie.

You resume the magazine left sitting open on the page you stopped on. You occupy yourself in the article about predicted spring fashion trends as you wait. After a minute or two, the pipes go quiet from the shower being turned off.

Eddie strolls into the room wearing nothing more than a clean pair of boxers. Droplets of water trickle down his toned and tatted chest. Harshly ruffling his curls with a bath towel, he smirks at you. “If it isn’t Little Miss Zombie, back from the dead.”

“Less than alive and in the flesh,” you reply, your annoyance at being made to wait all day still evident. You hold grudges better than anyone he knows, and Eddie is well aware that he’s not immune to being subject to it.

Your tummy rumbles loudly, the discomfort only emphasizing the sharpness of your tone. “When was the last time you got groceries? I didn’t see any preserved brains I could help myself to.”

“I’m definitely due for a restock,” Eddie says as he drapes his wet towel over the back of his desk chair. Then, he grabs the bottle of mousse from his dresser and dispenses a foamy dollop into his palm. “Funny you should ask, though. That’s sorta why you’re here.”

You flip the page of your magazine, not pulling your eyes from the glossy print. “You told me to come over to go grocery shopping?”

Eddie rubs his palms together to spread the product and then runs his fingers through his curls. “Not quite,” he starts, his tone cryptic. “I’ve been tasked with providing a meal, of sorts.”

Finally, you look up at him. Watching him scrunch his damp hair with the remainder of the product that’s making his palms go tacky, you wait for him to elaborate.

Eddie’s eyes flit to the other side of the room, rather than meeting your awaiting gaze. “I have a date.”

You stare blankly at the back of his head, as still as a statue while your blinking intensifies. Dumbfounded, you struggle to survive the bombshell he just dropped on you. It’s as if a nuclear explosion has shattered your eardrums, leaving his continued words to sound muffled through the high-pitched ringing.

A million and one questions swirl in your mind, only adding to the disorienting whirlwind of emotions. Since when is he dating? Why all of a sudden? As you try to piece everything together, you note that he hasn’t had any recent romantic interactions, at least none that you’re aware of.

You always thought he’d confide in you if he was seeing someone, but now you’re not so sure; especially since you’re only finding out about this now. Without a doubt, Eddie has never had trouble attracting attention. But he’s always seemed so content with the ways things are. So why now?

Eddie turns to face you, a splash of desperation in his eyes. “I feel like doing this is the best way to know if she likes me back.”

Your mouth has gone dry, and you try to sound more curious than interrogative, but it doesn’t quite come off that way. “Who is this mystery woman, anyway?” A couple of names come to mind, some of the most beautiful girls in town—none of whom you hold a candle to.

His side of the room falls quiet when he’s hit with your question. Eddie’s eyes drop to the carpet. While it might seem like he’s lost in thought, it’s actually a glaring sign of evasion. You can’t help but feel a little hurt by his reluctance to tell you who it is.

A small smile forms as he leans back against his dresser, as though he can’t keep himself upright during his current daydream. Folding his arms across his pecs and rubbing his jaw, eyes still downcast, Eddie begins to gush about her. “She’s just- god, she’s something else. The way she laughs, it’s like... the sun coming out after a storm.”

“Sounds like quite the catch,” you mutter, trying to keep your tone neutral. You watch closely as blush tints Eddie’s cheeks and his smile threatens to grow. Without saying another word, Eddie walks out and returns to the bathroom.

You’re quick to follow, hopping up from your chair. “Do I know her?”

“Technically, yeah." Standing in front of the foggy mirror, he wipes it with the back of his forearm. Then, he starts rummaging through the counter drawer for his pair of shears.

You stand just outside the open door, the lingering humidity from his scorching hot shower kissing your skin as it disperses into the hallway. Leaning back against the wall, you cross your arms like he did moments ago, albeit far more tensely. Technically? It must be one of your ex-friends, then. That would explain why he’s been keeping you in the dark.

It’s your duty to be supportive, but right now, you could hurl. The thick nausea swirling deep in your gut is a storm raging within, overpowering your ability to stay present.

While trimming his bangs over the basin, the shears glint in the hushed light of the wall sconce. Eddie steals a glance in your direction, but his eyes dart back to his reflection too quickly to catch the discomfort etched on your face. “So you’ll help me, right?”

As you watch yourself anxiously wiggling your toes inside your sock, you mumble, “I can't if you won’t tell me who it is.“

“Sure you can, you’re a girl. You know how this stuff works.”

You scoff, your brows shooting up as your head jerks back. You open your mouth to object, but he promptly cuts you off.

“Ah, ah! Slow your roll." Eddie points the shears in your direction. “I’m not saying you’re all the same, but there’s gotta be some common ground of expectations, right?”

You don’t have the strength to argue, so you reluctantly allow for his generalization. “I guess so.”

“Like yeah, I could just study one of those lady magazines you’re always reading. But then I wouldn’t have a way of knowing what is and isn’t bullshit,” Eddie explains, his tone half-joking. “That’s why I’m going straight to the source, oh, wise one.”

Far too consumed with trying to narrow down who the chick could possibly be, you can’t be bothered to give him a huff of amusement through your nose. “Can I at least have a hint?”

“Nope.” The shears hit the countertop, their metallic resonance echoing against the porcelain. He pivots to face you, hands resting on his hips. “Alright, Sherlock. How about you quit trying to crack the case and help me pick out a tie.”

“A what now?” You squawk, eyes widening in disbelief.

Eddie chuckles softly and rinses the hair trimmings down the drain, then flicks off the bathroom light. “I have to dress for the occasion. This is a big deal for me,” he elaborates as he strides back into his room. “For her and me.”

Once again, you find yourself on his tail, trailing close behind back into his bedroom. You unfold your arms and instead, start to rub the inside of your wrist with your opposite thumb. “Yeah, I get that. Just seems a bit out of character for you.”

Rifling through his closet, Eddie pulls out a hanger with a navy button-up shirt and nonchalantly tosses it onto the end of his bed. “Maybe, but at least she’ll know I’m taking this seriously." Eddie reaches for the high shelf to retrieve a tattered shoebox. Lifting the lid, he presents it to you. “Here’s what we’re working with.”

You step closer, your fingers deftly plucking out the rolled ties one by one, laying them flat beside the slightly wrinkled shirt. Side by side, your shoulders nearly brush. Meticulously comparing the patterns and colors, neither of you seems drawn to any particular one.

“Here, maybe it’s better to do it this way,” Eddie suggests, picking up and beginning to slip into the shirt. His thick fingers falter as he attempts to maneuver each small white button through its corresponding hole. Once halfway dressed—having tastefully paired his plaid boxers with a dress shirt—he smooths out the material from his chest to his belly.

Eddie grabs the nearest tie and lays it against his shoulder. He faces you expectantly, anticipation evident in his gaze, awaiting your feedback.

Your eyes flit between the tie he’s holding, the array laid out on the bed, and the hopefulness in his round eyes. “These are easily the three ugliest ties I've ever seen. No offense.”

He blows a playful raspberry at your harsh criticism and shakes his head. “None taken, they’re not mine. But Wayne might be a little hurt when I call him next and tell him you said that.”

Shooting him a pointed look, your brows furrow in skepticism. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I just might,” Eddie teases with a smile before turning his attention back to the bed. He tosses the first tie aside and reaches for the mustard paisley one. “What about this one, does it compliment my eyes?” He bats his dark brown lashes.

You clutch your chin in contemplation, carefully assessing the combination of hues. However, the richness of his chocolate irises captures you. You wade in their depths. The hot flash that envelops your body is enough to break the trance he inadvertently put you under. With a disapproving shake of your head, you dismiss this tie as well. “Nope, next.”

Eddie looks at you for a moment longer, even though you’re not doing the same. A faint frown creases his features as he tosses the vetoed tie aside, forming a rejection pile.

You pick up the remaining tie and drape it over his shoulder, admiring the harmonious pairing of the navy in the tie with the shirt, accentuated by its white and black diagonal stripes. While you ponder, Eddie watches your face intently, holding his breath.

You nod, a trace of delighted approval in your expression. “We have a winner.”

“Hell yeah, blue on blue it is." He wraps the tie around the back of his neck but struggles to recall the proper technique for tying it. Attempting a few different nonsensical loopings, he groans, his determination waning. “Stupid son of a bitch, wouldya just-”

“Don’t hurt yourself. Let me do it," you offer. Not receiving protest, you step closer to him.

Eddie uses one hand to gather his product-enhanced curls into a makeshift ball, allowing you to access the collar of his shirt. He juts out his freshly shaved chin, granting you ample room to work. Standing this closely, you catch the clean scent of shaving cream lingering on his skin.

You begin to effortlessly tie the knot. Without pausing to consider what you’re about to say, the words spill from your lips. “Why’re you asking for my opinion on stuff like this, anyway? You should be doing what you think she’ll like, not me.”

“You always know best.” Eddie’s expression softens to something more vulnerable. “When you’re taking the next step in a relationship, you want everything to be as perfect as it can be, y’know?”

It’s common sense to him. No one understands him like you do, making you the perfect person for navigating this nerve-wracking experience. But for you, it’s perplexing. You’ve never been on a proper, formal date. The idea of one remains an unfulfilled pipe dream. Yet, here you are, agreeing to help Eddie plan his.

Your only frame of reference comes from romance movies and horror stories of dates gone wrong recounted by your girlfriends. Of all the things you could be in the world, you find yourself an unassuming tree. Sturdy and dependable, sure. You serve your purpose. But you don’t captivate onlookers with blooming petals like flowers do. Instead, you take pride in your intricately branched personality, valuing it as your true strength that often goes overlooked.

Even so, it feels as though your traits fail to enchant others regardless; nobody seems willing. You go unnoticed, and you’ve come to terms with that.

Beautiful wildflowers get plucked from the ground and carried away to be cherished. Meanwhile, you simply exist, rooted in no man’s land, devoid of admirers. You may stand tall, but you’re easily overshadowed by what other women have to offer.

Perhaps this is why you like working at the flower shop. It’s somewhat cathartic to witness the delicate petals fall from time to time. It brings you a strange sense of satisfaction to hack away at their stems. The best part, though? While it’s a little twisted, you know that those flowers that dazzle in their pristine state are destined to wilt. They’ll shrivel and brown.

Whilst among your shared group of friends in public, you’ve witnessed Eddie getting nudged by one of the guys to direct his attention to a smoke show walking by. You watched as they bit their knuckles and exaggeratedly gawked. You don’t compare, it’s not even apples to oranges. It’s like… apples to rocks. A delicious, shiny fruit compared to you, mere clunky chunks of earth.

If life were an album, you’re the track that everyone skips within seconds of hearing the intro. Except for those rare moments when someone half-listens by accident and they resonate with you—that’s how you and Eddie became friends. He’d stumbled upon his new favorite song, one worth revisiting. What he sees in you is what everyone else overlooks.

Eddie is the only man on the face of the earth who treats you like you’re worth being around. Only an oddball would prefer to spend time lounging beneath the shade of a crooked tree instead of homing a rose in a crystal vase. That’s one thing you love about your best friend; he doesn’t make you feel like you fade into the background.

All fairytale cliché bullshit included, you want to be sought out in a crowd. You want to light up the room for someone. Much to your dismay, that can happen platonically too, and it has in this case.

If Eddie only knew how much the little moments matter to you—the ones where he makes you feel prioritized and valued. You know you’re not anything close to special or remarkable, but he always made you second guess that thought.

Obviously, you hadn’t meant to fall for him. It was kind of like catching a cold; one day, there was a tickle in the back of your throat that you didn’t usually feel. Unsuspecting, the days went on, and that sensation only worsened. You started to panic a little but ultimately continued to deny your worst thoughts.

Before you knew it, you were bedridden, bitten by the love bug. You didn’t go down without a fight. You thought that you could be strong and deny it access to your heart, but it had already invaded. So, all you could do was wait it out.

You tried to distance yourself, hoping to recover and act like nothing ever changed inside of you. But Eddie didn’t let you get too far away.

It wasn’t love at first sight, rather, a creeping plague. There was no swooning and giggling, no struggling to keep your hands to yourself. The change was undetectable. You were a frog in boiling water, unaware of the gradually rising temperature until it was far too late.

It wasn’t until your chest started to ache every time you said goodbye at the end of spending time together that you realized you were in too deep. You genuinely debated going to the doctor to get the pang checked out, but luckily you didn’t. Otherwise, you’d have wasted a good chunk of money to find out that you’re a lovesick idiot.

Unfortunately, this is an illness you’ve been stuck with since, and you’ve at least learned how to distract yourself from it. But when you fail to do so, your imagination wanders. Naturally, you’ve wondered if pressing a mere kiss to his cheek would burn everything to the ground.

The forbidden territory beckons, tempting you to envision breaking those unspoken agreed-upon rules that forbid things like hand-holding and cuddling. The two of you uphold mutual respect, adhering to the expectations of friendship. Both of you reserve that level of touch for expressions of romantic affection. Actions such as those have no place in a true friendship.

That’s the most confusing part of this for you. How did you manage to catch such strong feelings for him when you’ve not crossed any lines? Sure, he’s a tactile person; maybe that has something to do with it. Eddie makes physical contact with those he trusts, but it’s not like he’s hanging off of you at any given moment. You receive the same treatment as the others in his inner circle: a hand on the shoulder, a pat on the back, and a brief gripping of the forearm to get your attention.

You’re not supposed to want the touches to be more frequent, much less of a different nature. The line has to be drawn somewhere, and it’s been plainly drawn in the sand. You understand and accept that. But why, of all lines in the world, does it have to be this one that you want to cross so badly?

Most of your days aren’t all that miserable. But there are those days that are more difficult than the rest, though it’s not his fault. Last weekend, the two of you were at a mall, and some chick waved at him flirtily. He returned it immediately, though playfully enough that it was almost mocking. He was fucking around and had no intention of entertaining the idea of approaching her. Regardless, it was humbling for you, to say the least.

In that moment, the world reminded you that there’s a reason you walk at his side at a respectable distance, not tucked under his arm. If anything, it’s for the best. There’s a sense of liberation in admiring him without the burden of articulating your feelings. There’s no pressure to meet a girlfriend quota or live up to a higher standard. What Eddie expects of you now is what you’re capable of, and clearly, all that you’re good for. You’re good for filling the void, but apparently not so much anymore.

You’re not lustrous and aching to jump his bones, and you’re certainly not desperate enough to kiss him on a whim by not allowing yourself to overthink it. But perhaps you are just desperate enough that a man simply paying your emotions, interests, and existence of any mind can shackle you to him. That has to be what’s done you in; Eddie gives a shit about you.

In reality, there’s more to it than that. Eddie is selective about who and what he lets in. He doesn’t care for conformity and lack of individuality. The idea of blending in with the majority of society repulses him. You find the flawed aspects of the Munson doctrine fascinating and raw. He’s not perfect and Eddie doesn’t care what others think of him, to a degree.

Not unlike you, he’s complex. Eddie is anti-establishment but still prefers a bit of structure over chaos in his day-to-day life. He’s independent and cynical as hell, but he’s also appreciative of his support systems and isn’t ashamed to rely on them. He’s not much of a rule breaker nor is he rebellious, but he’ll happily stir up a little trouble in good fun if given the opportunity.

Eddie is a hypocrite in some ways and a walking contradiction in others. You love that he’s unapologetic about being that way. He owns it for the most part, and you admire that.

His presence overstays its welcome in your thoughts. You’ve often yearned for him to call you in the dead of night, admitting that he can’t sleep without the sound of your voice. Many times, you’ve fought the urge to do that. He owes you sleep, countless nights of it. It’s a debt that will never be repaid, an outstanding balance.

Despite the attempts at trying to talk yourself out of it, you still can’t bring yourself to stop loving him. Even as he’s actively pursuing someone else, you’re unable to shake this. You could be paralyzed from head to toe, and you’d still feel the love you have for him in your bones.

Once Eddie is officially with someone, he won’t have much time or energy left for you. The anticipation of being thrown aside for something new and far prettier has shattered your heart before any changes have occurred. Yet, any fragment of his presence surpasses total absence. The greed isn’t worth it, and you know you should be grateful for getting any piece of him at all.

The phrase fizzles on the tip of your tongue like a smoldering ember, threatening to sear through the muscle… I’m happy for you.

You should say it, but you can’t. Because if you did, that would be a blatant lie. It’s not even possessiveness that has you so bitter, it’s envy. You wish you were in her place.

“There.” You adjust the knot with a delicate tug, ensuring its tightness before letting the material slip through your fingers. Unable to meet his appreciative gaze, you offer a sad smile and take a half-step backward.

Your sigh, cleverly concealed as a deep breath, escapes as you settle back into your chair with a plop. “So, um,” you begin, picking at your cuticles absentmindedly. “Where are you taking her? Somewhere fancy?”

“Nah.” Eddie meticulously revamps his curls one final time in the mirror, wanting them to fall just right. Then, with great care, he tames his bangs to lay perfectly in place. “She’s gonna come over here. I thought it’d be more intimate. Besides, I can’t exactly swing a reservation right now. I’ve been tight on cash this week.”

Your fingers come to a halt, the stinging sensation apparent. Looking over at him, your eyes meet his in the reflection. “Ya big dummy, you shouldn’t have bought me lunch when that money could’ve gone toward buying her a nice dinner.”

“Don’t start with that shit,” Eddie warns as he digs through his dresser in search of pants to wear. “I’m happy to do that for you,” He pulls a pair of dark jeans from the bottom drawer.

“It really did make my day, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Having donned his pants, he nears his desk where his black grommet belt lies on the floor. Eddie threads his belt through the loops of his jeans, the buckle jingling before he secures it in place. “I felt better knowing you were taken care of.”

It’s only now occurring to you what he’s implied, and you think how absurd it is for him to host a dinner when he’s culinarily challenged. “Wait, since when do you cook?”

“Oh, I don’t. But you do.”

“Hardly.” You scoff, downplaying your abilities. Placing your magazine back in your lap, you flip the page despite not having read it. Unexpectedly, you feel the urge to quell his enthusiasm, to set him up for failure by trying to poke holes in his plan. “I mean, food is one thing, but atmosphere is another. Aren’t the guys going to be here?”

Eddie moves the clutter on his desk around in a quest to find something. “I kicked them out for the night.”

Like a spear plunged into your chest, you swallow hard. Not only is he having a girl over for dinner, but he’s gone out of his way to guarantee privacy because he’s hoping to get lucky too. More than likely right there, on that very bed, feet away from you. The cramped twin-sized mattress, where they’ll inevitably be body to body.

He turns to you after locating what he was searching for, fastening the slightly fancier watch around his wrist; it only supersedes his Casio due to it being analog, as opposed to digital. “I’ve been wanting to try that dish you keep raving about. You can teach me how to make it. Two birds, one stone.”

“It’s not difficult, you could handle the recipe.” You shrug away the opportunity to cook with him because the domesticity of it would more than likely kill you.

“I wanna do it together.” His voice softens, genuinely asking as nicely as possible. “Please.”

“Sure, yeah.” You maintain your downcast gaze and slump back in the chair, wishing for a black hole to open and swallow you up. “What if she doesn’t like it, or what if you don’t?”

“If you like it then it has to be good.”

Eddie’s seemingly endless compliments cause no sense of flattery. Instead, you’re consumed with persisting nausea as you envision a stunning girl seated across from him while they share laughter and partake in unspeakable activities in this very room.

Abruptly, a wave of heat washes over you, causing the soles of your feet and your palms to grow clammy. The scent of newly sprayed Old Spice floods the room and you’re overwhelmed by it, struggling to draw a breath. “I’ll be right back.” You all but choke on your words, swiftly rising to your feet and hastily leaving. Eddie watches curiously as you do.

In the living room, you push the heavy sliding door aside, stepping out onto the balcony to catch your breath. You inhale as deep as physically possible, and the stirring evening breeze cools the hot tears gathered along your lash line. Cars pass by, and you distract yourself by watching a person leisurely walking their dog. You do everything in your power to divert your thoughts away from him and the impending date.

A few minutes later, Eddie emerges from his room and slides open the door to the balcony, poking his head out to check on you. “Y’ready to go?” The shift in your energy is immediately evident to him, though he can’t quite pinpoint what’s amiss. He figures you’ve had a long day and you’re tired from your shift. Maybe you’re a little hangry, too.

With your arms folded on the balcony rail, you continue to look out into the neighborhood. “Go where?”

“The store, duh. We’ve gotta get ingredients, do we not?” He says to the back of your head.

You nod meekly before turning to face him. “Right. Yeah, I’m ready.”

Eddie flashes a warm smile before sliding the door open wide enough for you to pass through. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand then, hot stuff. We’re losing daylight."

Arguably, you’re not losing daylight fast enough. You wish the sun would fall from the sky. That way, it would always be dark and you could hide in the shadows forever. You follow him inside and slide the closed with a subdued thud.

His car keys drag and jingle while he swipes them off of the counter. Once he reaches the entryway, Eddie drops the keys on the floor beside him as he kneels to put on his sneakers. A few seconds later, you’ve joined him to do the same. Eddie glances at you as he feels the evening breeze that slipped in finally reaching this side of the room. “It’s a little chilly out, wanna borrow a hoodie or something?”

Quickly tying your shoes to avoid prolonged eye contact, you get to your feet, hugging yourself as you do. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Eddie snorts and stands, his shoes now tied as well. “I’m getting you one." He heads to his room, gesturing for you to follow.

“I said I’ll be fine without one,” You opt not to follow, instead calling out to him to compensate for the distance and his half-open door.

“Shut up, I’m getting you one and you’re gonna wear it ‘cause I said so.” His tone drips with feigned amusement at your stubbornness. “Come in here.”

As you step into the room, Eddie offers you the hoodie, watching as you just stare at it. “Sweetheart, put it on. You’re gonna freeze to death if you don’t. Then, I’ll have no choice but to cancel my super hot date because I’ll be too busy defrosting my ice sculpture of a best friend with a blow drier. You want me to blow you all night? I know you-”

“Okay, okay! I’ll put the damn thing on,” you agree begrudgingly, take it from him. “Happy?”

“Try elated.” Eddie smiles from ear to ear and winks at you, content that you’re allowing him to do what he deems best for you, knowing you’re too stubborn to do so for yourself. He’s got your back, always. Even if it means enduring a bit of attitude in the process. Eddie likes that about you, he always has. With a final glance, he leaves the room, flicking off the light switch.

Left standing in the dark bedroom, you blindly navigate the article of clothing to locate the opening. However, as soon as you go to put it on, it occurs to you that this hoodie is not fresh out of the wash.

The distant floral scent left behind by dryer sheets mingles with his natural aroma, enveloping you as you pull the sweatshirt over your head. He grabbed whatever was at hand, inadvertently submerging you back into the very sensory experience you fled from. The spicy notes from his cologne turn you into a human lava lamp, effectively melting you on the inside.

The mingling of Old Spice, tobacco smoke, his unique essence, and a hint of spring meadow flood your mind. You consider the idea of keeping the hoodie. You could tell him that you forgot to return it, and he’ll forget about it. Eddie can afford to lose one hoodie, he’d survive.

“Let’s go!” He barks, impatience peaking as nerves gnaw at him with each passing minute bringing him closer to the dinner.

Exiting his bedroom, you find Eddie stationed at the front door, propping it open with his foot. Once within his view, you extend your arms and twist your expression to emphasize your annoyed compliance.

“One last thing.” Eddie withdraws his foot, causing the door to slam shut, its latch clanging twice against the wood from the force. He reaches out and pulls the hood up, adjusting it to cover most of your head. “There.”

You stick your tongue out at him, your grin eliciting one from him in return. “Alright, let’s-” He begins, but instead of turning, he fakes you out and grabs both drawstrings. Eddie tugs them, causing the hood to cinch tightly around your face.

“You’re an ass.”

“Yeah, well.” Eddie turns around to leave this time and holds the front door open for you. “You’re stuck with me.”

With a narrowed glare, you fix the hood and your hair on your way out of the apartment. Eddie is close behind, closing the door and locking it. You take the opportunity to collect yourself and adopt a supportive, cheerful demeanor.

These are gonna be the longest two hours of your life.

You can’t fucking believe it. You’re preparing a meal for another woman, and doing so willingly. You tried to guide him through the prep process, but he grew frustrated. Now, he’s on dish duty, conquering the mountain of dirty dishes piled up on the counter.

She may be getting a delicious and intimate dinner, but at least you get moments like these. But soon enough, she’ll have them too. If everything goes to plan, the memories of these moments will be all you have left of Eddie. As you lose yourself in the sound of his voice, the ramblings about a sale he made at work eventually circle back to the topic of his evening.

As he excitedly goes on, his voice carries a boyish enthusiasm. Unseen by you, Eddie bounces on the balls of his feet while standing at the sink. Ten minutes seem to fly by unnoticed as you both focus on your tasks.

After taking the food out of the oven, his demeanor flips like a switch. “Oh, it’s time for me to leave apparently.” You barely have the chance to take off the oven mitt all the way before he’s practically pushing you out of the apartment. “Be sure to heat it up at 375 degrees,” you suggest, struggling to put on your shoes fast enough.

“Sure thing. I’ll let you know how it goes!”

“Looking forward to it,” You lie. Eddie waves you off before closing the front door. Left standing alone in the hallway, you feel foolish.

Finally arriving home, you crawl onto your bed. The weight of reality crashes down upon you, and you physically collapse under the weight of your emotions. The pain in your chest burns up the back of your throat as you sob. This was a harsh wake-up call, but it’s what you needed to finally confront yourself.

It’s better this way. Not having to reject you outright or politely turn you down, Eddie doesn’t have to hurt simply because you are. This is best because Eddie doesn’t have to feel guilty or pity you. Just as you’ve loved him in silence, you can grieve the loss of him in it too.

Ten minutes pass and just as you’re starting to drift asleep from exhaustion, your telephone rings. The ringing in the kitchen pulls you from your room. You drag your feet on the way there, clearing your throat and taking a deep breath before answering the phone.

“Hey, uh,” Eddie sounds panicked. “Can you come back over? I forgot the most important fucking thing and-”

You cut him off. “Relax, I’ll be there in twelve." Abruptly ending the call without another word, you rub your sore eyes, blow your stuffy nose, and splash your face with warm water. The last thing he needs is for his night to be ruined because he notices how hard you’ve been crying. If your feelings get in the way of him having a good time with the girl he’s head over heels for, then you don’t deserve his friendship.

Entering the building and letting yourself back into his apartment, you’re caught off guard by how different the space looks. He worked his butt off to tidy the living room and make certain that everything is presentable. Besides being notably neater, you also notice the faint smell of air freshener.

The apartment is blanketed in darkness, illuminated only by the flickering flames of candles and the light from the table lamp in the living room. Hushed music emanates from the record player in his room. It’s a genre you wouldn’t have expected him to own, because of how slow and romantic it sounds. You wonder whether he bought it specifically for this occasion.

Upon hearing the front door creak open, Eddie halts his pacing in the living room. “Thank god, you’re here.”

You teeter on the heels of your feet, feeling out of place in the carefully arranged setting that isn’t meant for you. “I really shouldn’t be. It’s quarter to seven, she’ll show up any minute now.”

Eddie makes his way over to you, rounding the dinner table and draping his arm along the back of the dining chair farthest from where you stand. “No, no. Don’t worry about that, she’s already here.”

Your eyes flit towards the bathroom, expecting to see a sliver of light escaping from beneath the door, yet the hallway is pitch black. There’s no dolled-up gal standing in his room either. You look back at him with a furrowed brow, confusion etched on your face. “Where, exactly?”

He can’t think of a time he’s ever had to remind himself how to breathe correctly. Eddie holds his hand out to you, his anxiety mounting. With hesitation, you extend your hand and place it in his. He wraps his trembling fingers around yours.

Rarely have you been in this position, and in those instances, it was never an act with deeper meaning. It’s only ever happened in urgent moments, like darting across a bustling street to avoid being separated—a mere safety measure.

Eddie’s attention fixates on your hands, willing them to respond to his touch. Then he notices your puffy, reddened eyes. “What’s the matter?” He instinctively squeezing your joined hands.

“It’s stupid.” You pull away from him, retracting your hand to wipe away the smeared mascara beneath your eyes.

Rather than forcibly turning you to face him, Eddie gracefully moves around to stand in front of you once more. “I bet it’s not,” he says softly, his compassionate expression tinged with concern. He reaches for both of your hands this time, praying you can’t feel his pounding pulse through the contact.

Eddie delicately lifts your hands and peppers velvety kisses across the tops of your knuckles. The warmth of your skin against his lips sends a shiver shooting through his core, goosebumps rising across his body.

You emit a wet giggle from the shock, uncertainty, and embarrassment bubbling within you. “What the hell are you doing?”

He chuckles a little too, his eyes sparkling as they reflect the dancing flames behind you. “What’s it look like? This is all for you.” Eddie presses one more featherlight kiss to your hands before lowering them, but he doesn’t let go, keeping them securely in his own. “It’s our first date.”

You’re the prettiest little package of unusual. From the moment he first heard your song, he couldn’t shake you. Eddie couldn’t get your tune out of his system, but it’s not like he wanted to. Never before had anyone shown him such unconditional care; no one had ever gone out of their way to get to know him like you did. You’re the safest thing he’s ever known, but you’re also the scariest, in the best ways possible.

The thought of confessing how you make him complete, unlike anything he’s ever experienced, is nothing short of terrifying. Yet, the fear of not seizing the opportunity to love you outweighs the fear of rejection. There’s no turning back now.

Your eyes wander to the table, taking in the details: the thoughtfully arranged mismatched plates and silverware, the glasses filled with expensive wine. At the end of the kitchen island sits a teddy bear beside a bouquet. In addition to the flower petals, there are red, white, and pink balloons scattered across the floor.

You turn away before he can see your face contort, biting your lip harshly to suppress the sob rising in your throat. It’s all useless, though. A broken cry escapes your lips.

Eddie’s stomach lurches and pressure builds behind his own eyes. The change he just caused is palpable, the damage has been done. He releases both of your hands and plants his on the sides of his head, stepping away. “Shit, shit, shit. I’m such a fucking idiot. I read this all wrong.”

“You’re not and you didn’t. They’re happy tears now.”

His frantic expression mellows out, his arms drop to his sides, and the tension in his body gradually dissipates. “Happy tears?”

You respond with a soft hum and nod, a grin forming as you admire the table setting and gifts once more before looking back at Eddie.

“Oh,” he chirps, wearing a cheek-splitting smile as he brings his palms to your face. He wipes away your fallen tears with his thumbs. Eddie studies your expression intently. “I didn’t mean to make you cry sad ones.”

“It’s not your fault.” You close your eyes, relishing the sensation of his fingers calmingly swiping along the apples of your cheeks.

“It is and I’m sorry.” Eddie inches closer, his toes now touching yours. “I wanted it to be a surprise ‘cause I thought spontaneity would make it more memorable.”

You look at him questioningly. “It’s not exactly spontaneous when you had me cook my own dinner.”

“Fair enough. You’ve got me there.” Eddie thought it was a foolproof plan. If you made the food, there was no chance that you’d hate it. “I went about this all wrong, huh? I should scrap the whole thing and start from scratch.” He becomes distracted, his train of thought shifting to how he’s going to clean this up and figure out a different approach.

“Don’t do that. Just ask me.” You grasp his forearm to regain his attention. “Ask me out and maybe I'll say yes.”

“Maybe?” Eddie scoffs airily, unsure if you’re teasing or genuinely undecided. He clears his throat and theatrically composes himself, gesturing with a downward motion of his hand in front of his face. “Okay, uh, would you like to have dinner with me?”

“No.”

Eddie’s mouth falls open.

“I’m fucking with you.” You smile devilishly and wrap your arms around his middle.

Finally, he can hug you the way he’s always wanted. Eddie brings you in close and tight, his arms encircling your head. “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He murmurs into your hair, inhaling deeply to indulge in every aspect of you he can.

“A little.” You laugh. You remain in each other’s embrace for a moment longer before easing apart, though still connected by your pairs of lassoed arms.

Eddie’s laughter melds with yours, the relief in his tone evident. “Now that the cat's outta the bag, I can finally tell you that I absolutely love when you’re a crybaby.”

You pull a comical expression, raising your eyebrows and widening your eyes. “What, why?” You take in the scattering of freckles across his T-zone while he responds.

“Honest to god, it’s mesmerizing to watch you experience things so intensely. It’s fucking beautiful.” With nothing but adoration in his eyes, Eddie strokes your hair, relishing the way it feels against his skin. “Can I call you my crybaby?”

“No, you cannot!” You swat at his chest and attempt to push him away, but he laughs smugly and brings you back in close. Your hands find purchase on his biceps, surrendering to him entirely. Locked in each other’s gaze, time seems to crawl.

Eddie’s hands, having made their way down to caress your hips, settle on the small of your back. “How about just baby?” He nudges the tip of his nose against yours, his voice taking on an almost sultry tone. “You like the way that sounds?”

All you can do is nod dumbly, watching his eyes fall to your lips.

Eddie mumbles, “Me too.” His hands flex where they lay, tugging you slightly so that your bodies are flush and you have no choice but to lean against him. “Would it be okay if I kissed you?” Eddie licks his lips, his eyes finding yours again, the chocolate pools of his irises swirling.

You nod, slide your hands up his shoulders, and wrap them around his neck. The air was stolen from your lungs, rendering your voice a ghost. Eddie leans in and his lips hover over yours, your eyes fluttering closed in time with his. Then, you feel the gentle pressure of his lips against your own.

For a few moments, you’re out of sync, a mere beat behind due to nerves. But after taking a brief breath, you find each other without trouble. When you slot your lip between his, it’s as though there’s a sunrise in his veins; a new dawn spreads through his body. You tug a fistful of curls at the nape of his neck, your lips clicking wetly with one another, chests heaving in unison.

When the two of you finally have to part to breathe, Eddie whispers, “Jesus Christ.”

“You can say that again.” You exhale, releasing the grip you have on his hair and soothingly scratching the area with your nails.

“I mean I could.” Eddie borderline purrs, tightening his arms around your waist. “But I’d much rather keep kissing you.”

“Hard to argue with that." You smile against his lips and give him a quick peck, which he happily returns. Then, your mind begins to wander. “You got me flowers?”

He can’t discern if there’s a trace of disdain or disbelief in your tone. Eddie knows that you consider flowers cliché and overrated; after all, you deal with them all day. But just because you see them that way doesn’t mean he does.

Eddie pulls away slightly to get a good look at you. “Yeah, of course I got flowers for my flower. How could I not?”

Truthfully, he’s bummed about not being able to find a bouquet as exceptional as you. You’re unlike anything from this world, resembling something from his cherished sci-fi novels. You’re resilient, showing up any old rose or daisy. You unfurled your petals solely for Eddie and allowed him to see you bloom. Nothing on earth compares to you. So, a regular bouquet would have to do.

You comment with a slightly teasing tone, “I had no idea you’re a hopeless romantic.”

“Too much?” Eddie bites his lower lip, afraid that you’re offended.

“No, not too much." You remove your one hand from his hair and rest it on his chest, drawing mindless shapes while you avoid eye contact. “Far more than I deserve though." You’re slightly taken aback when Eddie cups your face without hesitation, forcing you to look at him. Despite his assertiveness, his touch is tender.

“Sweetheart." Eddie’s eyes carry an intensity you’ve never seen, brimming with affection and sincerity. “You deserve everything good that this world has to offer. I can’t give you that, but I can give you all of me. That much I can promise.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

★My Masterlist

tags:@nj01@tlclick73

934 notes · View notes

6okuto · 1 year ago

Text

SPECIALLY MADE

timeskip sakusa x gn!reader

“you know i could have gotten you something for free, right?”

sakusa’s legs are spread, cheek resting against his knuckles as he sits on the couch and watches you.

he wasn’t one to complain about you wearing team merch, especially not when it had his number on it, but he’s still not sure why you didn’t ask him to get you something instead.

“i wanted to surprise you,” you defend yourself. “plus there was a sale.”

“paying nothing is even cheaper.”

“did you hear the first part about it being a surprise?”

kiyoomi replies with a deep breath before standing up. “you could have asked someone else on the team? not hinata or bokuto, but meian could’ve kept a secret.”

as soon as he reaches you, one hand comes up to play with a drawstring while the other finds its way into your front pocket. his fingers quickly intertwine with yours so he can pull you closer, and he smirks at successfully flustering you, even for a second.

“first of all, don’t look at me all smug like that—”

“i don’t know what you're talking about.”

“—second, i know, i thought about it. but official merch of anything is like, always ugly.”

“ours isn’t that bad.”

“yours isn’t that much better than any other team.”

“the colours are good?”

“yeah but the number and logos are always too big. i had this custom-made so it’s cooler.”

and to be fair, kiyoomi couldn’t really disagree. it had the jackal over your heart, claw marks stretching over your side and ‘MSBY’ on your left arm. luckily for him, though it was notably smaller than on the official jerseys, the number 15 and ‘SAKUSA’ were still on the back for everyone to see. even after all of these years, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat or two at the sight of your support.

“now, instead of a boring, normal jersey, i have a one-of-a-kind msby sakusa hoodie just for me.” you smile.

he hums, smiling softly in return. “alright, just for you.”

a beat passes while his eyes take you in again, before kiyoomi suddenly asks, “can i do something, though?”

the next game you come to watch, you get your regular spot close to the court. the team waves when they see you as usual, kiyoomi lingering for a few seconds so you can jokingly shoot a heart his way and he can shake his head.

the difference this time, though, is that you're wearing your new custom hoodie specially signed by your boyfriend in gold lettering, right under his number and last name.

Kiyoomi... i sure hope there arent any typos in this guys

🏷️ | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie

#haikyuu x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu fluff #sakusa fluff #haikyuu x gn!reader

2K notes · View notes

thragedys · 6 months ago

Text

Midnight Visitor

Sol x Reader

Synopsis: Thanks to the takeout you ate last night, the effects of food poisoning from poor catering have finally kicked in, hitting you when you least expected it. To ensure you’re properly cared for, Sol takes the duty of watching over you.

Word count: 1.8k

Includes: Gender neutral reader, sick reader, Sol being soft, affection, trespassing, jealous Sol (+ more!)

After undergoing a series of nausea and intense dizziness, Sol insisted on walking you home despite being out in the city with him and Hyugo. It was as though all life was drained from your face, the only support you had while walking was Sol’s arms holding you upright.

Food poisoning… Should’ve never eaten from that takeout place with less than three stars in their reviews.

Grabbing the key from your bag, he unlocks the door and escorts you inside, directing you to your bedroom while you whine and hold your face in your hands. Even the slightest tilt of your head would send you spiralling sideways, a recipe for disaster as your stomach decides to conjure its own storm.

Inside the kitchen, Sol spots a paper bag. The logo of the company which made you unwell is there, presented in a large font. Retrieving his phone, he snaps a picture of the logo, alongside the contact details printed on the back. He’ll deal with that later. Currently, he has more important things to tend to. You.

Rummaging through your cupboards, he successfully finds some medication that will ease the aches in your stomach. As for your dizzy head, the best thing he can do for you is close your curtains and encourage you to get rest. Fluid intake is also vital, it’ll aid dehydration. Returning to your side with a glass of water and some pills, Sol places them on your bedside table and sits on the edge of your bed.

“Are you okay? Let me feel your head.” Sol sighs, placing his palm flat on your forehead.

“Sol…” You whine, one hand remaining on your stomach and the other clutching his free hand.

“You’re not that hot, yet. Leave your window open—”

“No! No, I can’t! You’ve seen the news…”

“You will be fine, I promise. Fresh air will make you feel a lot better.”

“I’m sorry for burdening you with this…”

“Don’t be. I’d rather it be me taking care of you than anyone else.”

“I’ll buy you a—”

“No. Sit down.”

“Ugh, Sol—”

“Rest.”

“I’ll buy you a thank-you gift when I’m better…” You mumble, pouting at him as he leans against the doorframe.

“Send me a text or call me if you need me. Doesn’t matter what time it is.”

“Text… Call… Yeah.” You repeat, rubbing your eyes while burying your head into the pillow.

“Don’t forget, take your medicine.”

“I’m gonna take it… Now.” You reach over and drop the pills into your mouth, then take a small sip of the drink to wash them down.

“Goodnight. I hope you feel better soon.”

Before leaving, he waited until he heard your breathing pattern change, signifying that you were asleep. Alongside the medication, he slipped in a sleeping pill, its dosage strong enough to keep you out for the correct amount of time.

As if he would leave you alone so easily while you’re sick.

Right now, however, his main concern is dealing with the business that made his soulmate ill, after all, what good is a company in operation if its only achievement is casting a vast majority of its customers extremely unwell upon eating their cheaply sourced food?

Upon arriving back at his apartment, he stripped from his usual attire and threw on a set of his darkest clothes, a matching surgical mask to cover what remained exposed on his face. A complaint wouldn’t be enough, they clearly racked up enough of them online but did not change a singular thing about their selfish ways.

It was just after midnight when the streets were soundless and the civilians were tucked away inside of the safety of their homes. Strolling down the deserted sidewalk, Sol stops outside of a building, comparing the logo to the one saved in his photo album. A perfect match.

Subtly, Sol explored the perimeter, tracing the outline of the building before returning to the front. It’s no wonder why all of their customers become unwell, the amount of trash that remains behind the building is piled up, much taller than him.

There is no point in teaching those who do not wish to learn. An ignorant mind reflects an ignorant heart. Only the careless would profit from neglect like this.

Flicking his lighter on, he tosses it to the ground before walking away, the flicker of flames igniting in the distance as he glances back. It won’t be long before a passerby calls the fire department, but that’s no concern to him. When the authorities see the state the building was in previously, they could rule it out as the impact of an unkempt business.

His feet led him back to your apartment, the open window a much easier entrance for him as he climbed up. After all those locks you’ve bought in the past, he’s surprised you never gave up your safety protocols. Securing his footing, he creeps back into your bedroom, kneeling beside you as you rest peacefully in your slumber.

You are so beautiful. Every feature of your face was crafted with tender hands. He traces over your lips with his index finger, slowly drawing his hand back.

“Hi, Pumpkin.” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips against your cheek. “I’m going to check your temperature again.”

This time, Sol uses the back of his hand. Thankfully, he would say you are around average, partially a slight bit higher than usual.

“Good… You’re going to be okay. You might be sick tomorrow but I’ll come over to make sure you aren’t alone.”

“You like having me here, don’t you? You feel so safe, so loved.” He strokes your hair similar to how you would pet a fragile animal. As his hand ventures under the blanket, he comes in contact with something.

“You still sleep with the plushie I bought for you? You…” Sol’s smile expands, his cheeks lighting a subtle shade of pink. “You must love it. Or me. I hope it’s me.”

In your sleep, you moan, your body beginning to shift. He strokes the side of your arm, calming you down as you endure whatever dream is unfolding. After a while, your body stops with its relentless motions and goes still again.

“This is our special time together. It’s my favourite part of the day.” Sol’s lips curve up, his eyes filled with adoration as he clutches your plushie close to his chest. “I’ll make it smell like me again, don’t worry.”

“Mph…” Your lips moved, but he couldn’t decipher the sound that left them.

“Hm?” Sol pinches your cheek, a procedure to test if you’re awake or not.

You must be mumbling to yourself since you didn’t respond to his touch.

“I’m guessing you missed smelling me then. That’s cute.” When he finished rubbing the plushie against his flesh and clothing, he tucked it under your chin. “You’re cute.”

“He doesn’t deserve you, you know?” Sol mumbles, sinking onto the bed beside you, fingers toying with your hair.

“He would never do the things I have done for you.”

“I know you prefer me. It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it right now. I can wait.” He rolls onto his side, your face now in view.

“You make it hard for me to leave every single time…” His pitch was low, an almost pouty tone as he nuzzled his head against your chest. Lifting your limbs, he wraps them around himself, drawing the blanket over both of your bodies this time.

“I’ll just stay like this for a few more minutes… Then I have to go.” Sol closes his eyes, the therapeutic beats of your heart are a soothing melody to his ears.

…

Sunlight filters in through the curtains, a bitter breeze hitting your clammy skin. Compared to yesterday, you’re feeling a lot better, the only thing remaining is the dull ache in your stomach. Rubbing your eyes, you squeeze your plushie, only to hear a strange noise.

Last time you checked, this plushie shouldn’t be able to communicate. Shooting your eyes open, you find a mess of green hair sprawled out on top of you.

“Sol?” You rub your eyes again, unsure if what is in front of you is reality or a fever dream.

“Yeah…?” Sol mumbles in response, his body shifting. Then he goes still, springing up from his previous position. Shit.

“I thought you left last night.”

“After you took your medicine, you asked me to stay. You went out like a light but I made sure that you were okay.”

“Did you have this on yesterday?” You tug at his hoodie. “I’ve never seen you wear clothes like this before.”

“These are my comfy clothes, that’s why. I keep the hoodie in my backpack.”

“Oh…” That food poisoning must have hit you hard to leave you so delirious. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“…?” Sol flutters his eyelashes while your hands cup his cheeks, drawing him near. Your lips plant a peck on his forehead, a suiting reward since he went out of his way for you.

“Ah… You shouldn’t have to thank me… It’s what anyone would do.” Sol rubs the back of his neck, a flush spreading over his face.

“I feel sick. Like I’m going to throw up.”

“I’m not surprised. Let’s get you to the bathroom. Get all of that food out of your system for good.” Sol stands first, offering his hand to assist you to your feet.

“I don’t like vomiting.” You mope, refusing to move despite your stomach cramping further.

“But it has to come out. You’ll be okay, I’m right here.” He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently.

The only option is to get up if you don’t want to clean your bedsheets. Swiftly shuffling between rooms, you kneel before the toilet and allow your body to regulate itself, removing the foreign pathogens that invaded your meal. Sol rubbed your back, making the process easier. There wasn’t a lot of retching, but you still felt that familiar burn in your throat when you were finished.

“Any more?” Sol pats your upper back and you shake your head.

“I’ll cook for you this time. No more buying from trashy food places.”

“But they’re cheap…” You puff air into your cheeks, taking your toothbrush which he handed you to remove the bitter taste from your mouth.

“My meals are free. Don’t be ashamed to ask.” Sol takes a final glance at you before heading back to your kitchen, scouring the cupboards in search of something to work with.

For you, he would do anything. Make anything. Even if it’s from scratch. No matter the simplicity or complication of a request you have, he will ensure that you get what you ask for. You don’t deserve anything less. If only you were aware of the lengths he has gone and is still willing to go for you.

#tkatb vn #tkatb sol #the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back sol #the kid at the back vn #fanfic #sol x reader

982 notes · View notes

bloatedandalone04 · 1 year ago

Text

The Perks

➪the one where you get to experience all the perks that come with being james’ wife and biggest supporter.

Warnings: smut, fluff, oral (f receiving), semi-public smut, swearing, hair pulling

Word Count: 1.8k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

It was nearing one in the afternoon when you arrived at J Kelly Auto, a takeout bag in hand and a dumb smile on your face as you waved at one of the mechanics. You walk past the garage and pull open the door to the lobby part of the building, your smile growing when you catch sight of James.

He was leaning against the front of the desk, his arm crossed over his chest as he listened to someone on the phone. The arms of his work jumpsuit were tied around his waist, his toned biceps on full display as the white muscle tee he wore under it did nothing to hide them. His various tattoos were on full display as well and your eyes trail over every one of them as you waited for him to be done with the call.

His shirt was stained with oil already, despite you spending more than half an hour the previous night trying to get it clean again once he came home smelling like motor oil and cigarettes.

James slumped back a bit more as the person rambled on, but as his gaze swept around the room before landing on you, he stood up again. “Hi,” he mouthed, grinning over at you while you swayed on your heels by the door. “Uh huh. Well, what you can do right now is bring it in and we’ll see if we have the parts you need. If we don’t, I’ll send in an order for them. Alright, no problem. See you soon.”

He reached behind him and set the phone down before reaching out to you, his hands finding their home on your waist once you were standing in front of him. “Hi,” you greet him with a small smile, kissing him quickly afterwards.

“Hi, baby,” he said back, bunching up the fabric of your dress as he pulled you a bit closer. “You look pretty.”

You smile at him, sliding your free hand up his arm until your fingers are able to wrap less than halfway around his bicep. “Thanks, Jamie,” you blush under his gaze as you look around the near-empty room. “Slow day?”

“If by slow day you mean we’ve had three customers today, then yeah, it’s a slow day,” he answered, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling your body up against his. His eyes raked downwards, pausing at your somewhat exposed chest before going further. You knew what you were doing when you chose to wear your white sundress with the small blue flowers that matched his eye color almost perfectly. It never failed to drive him crazy, and you could tell he was holding himself back right now.

While he was pretty into PDA, James still didn’t want the few customers in the lobby to witness his inability of keeping his hands to himself whenever you are around. “I brought you lunch,” you tell him and hold the bag up, the logo of his favorite fast food place making him smile.

“You brought me lunch?” He teased, trailing his hands lower down your back.

You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and standing on the tips of your toes to be able to kiss him. He pulled you closer to him and tried to deepen the kiss, making you laugh at the way his lips chased yours. “I did,”

“You’re too good to me,” he mumbles, kissing you again quickly.

Laughing, you pull away and hold up the bag again. “I’m just proud of you,” he smiles at your words, taking it from you. “Always.”

“Thanks, baby,” he murmured, taking your left hand in his free one. His thumb turned your rings as he added, “Now I’m starving.”

You perk up at that, “Oh, good, because I wasn’t sure if you’d eaten or not-”

The shaking of his head made your words die on your tongue, and you watched as he looked around before walking backwards to the office door, pulling you with him as he went. “I’m not hungry for food,”

You get the hint pretty much instantly, a blush taking over your face as you glance back at the customers who seemed to have no idea of the words that were being exchanged between you and James. “Right now? Here?”

James pulled you into the office that was labeled as his own before closing and locking the door. “Right now,” he confirmed, shutting the blinds on the doors window and setting the fast food bag onto the table next to it before making his way over to you in three strides. His hands grab hold of your hips and he pushes you against the side of the desk, his fingers bunching up the fabric of your dress as he sinks to his knees. “Here.”

Your eyes widen as he pulls down your panties with one quick tug before he wraps his lips around your clit. “Oh, my God,” you gasp as he sucks on your bundle of nerves harshly. “Jesus, do you have any self control at all?”

James smirks up at you with a shrug, “Not when it comes to you,” he answered, nudging your right thigh to rest on his shoulder as he licked a stripe up your folds. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your engagement ring and wedding band being barely visible in the dark strands.

“You’re on the clock, Jamie,” you point out in a breathless tone. “This is what you’re getting paid for?”

He raised his brow at you as he used the tattooed fingers of his free hand to gently split your slick entrance. “I think you’re forgetting that I’m my own boss,” he rasped, slowly fucking his index and middle fingers into you.

You whine a bit as you grip the edge of the desk. “How could I ever forget that?” You ask, biting down harshly on your lip to stifle the loud moan that threatened to escape you. “Don’t you know how proud I am of you?”

James nodded, kissing your inner thigh as he fucked his digits into you. “Of course I do,” he answered. “You tell me it everyday.”

“Because it’s true,” you whisper then moan. “Jamie.”

“I know,” he hummed, staring up at you with dark blue eyes. You didn’t need much of a build up for you to be ready to fall apart for him, and he knew this. The way you were helplessly clenching around his fingers told him all he needed to know, and he sped up a bit, making sure to brush his thumb against your clit with every thrust of his hand. “My wife is the prettiest thing in the world.”

His compliment makes your face flush as you grip onto the hair on the back of his head, squeezing your eyes shut. “Fuck,” he knew what he does to you, and you didn’t have to open your eyes to know he is smirking. “James.”

Your voice held a sense of warning, but he didn’t need to hear it to know that you are close. After being together for nearly six years and married for just under one, you and James knew each other like the backs of your hands. “I know,” he repeated his previous words, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue as you squirmed against him.

Your walls clenched around his fingers and your stomach flexed as you felt the knot begin to steadily form. “Oh, God,” you murmur, not wanting to be too loud since he still had customers in the other room.

James looked effortlessly hot right now, with his face buried against you, his fingers deep inside you and his movements slow. He wasn’t rushing even though he is currently at work and will probably be needed soon by one of the other mechanics. He was taking his time with you, getting you off slowly in the way he knows you love.

You reach down and brush your thumb against his cheek, wiping away the smudge of dirt and oil that had collected there since he started his shift. “If you think I’m pretty,” you struggle to say as he curls his fingers, the tips brushing against your sweet spot. “You must have no idea how perfect you are, Jamie.”

He shook his head, pulling away from you but keeping his fingers deep within you. “I’m not the perfect one, baby,” he brushes you off, but all you could focus on was the wetness that coated his lips and chin. “You’re so fucking perfect, and you’re all mine.”

You moan and grip his hair again, making him grin up at you as he raises his left hand.

“I made sure of that,” he added, wiggling his fingers and showing off his wedding band.

“James,” you gasped loudly, feeling the knot tighten even more. He just shook his head and wrapped his mouth around your clit again, sucking the bud harshly. You buck against him and push him closer to you with your foot on his back. “I’m close.”

You lean further back on the desk and accidentally knock over the lamp that was sitting on it. James didn’t seem to care at all about the well-being of it as he just pulled your body closer to him as his fingers inched even deeper in you. “I know, pretty girl,” he rasped, quickening the pace of his hand in a way that had you gripping onto him with everything you had in you as you felt your walls spasm. “I want you to come for me. All over my hand.”

His words make your head spin as you writhe against him before the knot unravels. You moan rather loudly as you come on his fingers and then again when you saw the wetness that dripped down his hand as he fucked you through your high. “Fuck, fuck,” you whimper and watch as he slowly pulls his fingers out and kept eye contact with you when he brought them up to his mouth and licked them clean. “Fuck, James.”

He grins up at you before standing to his full height and walking over to the door. “You okay?” He asks over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” you say as you try to control your breathing. “Give me a sec and I’ll get you off, too.”

James just waved you off as he grabbed the takeout bag before walking back over to the desk and sitting down on the chair. “Don’t worry about it, baby,”

You watch with wide eyes as he pats his thigh and opens the bag, a surprised laugh escaping you. “You’re eating right now?”

He shrugged as he reached over and wrapped his arm around your middle, pulling you onto his lap as he leaned back. “That was a lot of work,” he teased, giving you a chaste kiss before reaching into the bag. “Let me get my strength back and then we’ll talk about you getting me off.”

1K notes · View notes

puckinghischier · 14 days ago

Note

thinking about comforting nico during this weird playing period.. he comes home upset and frustrated with not only the team but with himself.

he’d be so mopey, just kind of dragging around, not really saying much. mumbled answers to your questions, saying he’s not hungry, no input on what to watch. he’d kind of just go lay in your shared bedroom, headphones-in-and-staring-at-the-wall, kind of mopey.

you’d pad softly into the room, knowing you had to bust him out of the slump somehow. he had every right to be frustrated and upset, but you hated seeing your bright boy so down and dark.

he’d have his head leaned back with his eyes closed, legs stretched out in front of him with his hands resting clasped on his stomach. you softly crawl onto the bed to sit cross-legged beside of him. you poke at his soft belly a few times to get his attention.

peeking one eye open, he raises his head and removes one ear bud.

“what’s up?” he flatly asks, so unlike himself.

you smile at his fuzzy hair, his lack of properly drying it before slipping a beanie over it to leave the rink evident.

“let’s go for a drive,” you propose.

he scrunches his nose up at your suggestion, not interested in the slightest at getting back out into the cold air and riding around the city he keeps disappointing.

“not really in the mood,” he shakes his head, going to put the bud back in his ear until you grab his arm.

“please?” you give him your pouty eyes, hoping they’ll work now just like they do every other time.

reluctantly he agrees, tossing a sweatshirt on and covering his messy hair with a hat.

you bundle up yourself, slipping on a pair of comfy shoes before meeting him at the door, his hand reaching for the keys resting on the hook on the wall.

your hand beats his, though, grabbing his car keys before he can.

“you’re passenger princess tonight, bud”

he rolls his eyes, holding open the door so your smug self can walk out, making your way down to the drafty parking garage and seating yourself in the drivers seat of his lush mercedes.

pulling out of the garage, you turn the radio on to play whatever he was listening to last, some swiss rap you couldn’t understand the words to playing softly through the speakers. nico isn’t talking, just looking at the various lights and buildings as you drive through the quiet city.

most of the traffic from the game is already dispersed, giving you an easy ride to the mystery destination you didn’t tell him about.

you half expect him to figure it out based on your pattern of turns and familiar surroundings, but he must really be in his head, because when you park his car on the street outside of your destination, he’s still staring, unaware that the car even stopped moving.

“hey, neeks, come back to me,” you softly touch his arm, startling him a bit.

he looks over at you, almost like he forgot where he was, relaxing once his brain registered there was no threat. just you, looking over at him sweetly, as you always do.

“sorry, got lost thinking,” he mumbles, a little embarrassed. you smile at his accent shining on “thinking”, the subtle slip of his lips when pronouncing the word one of your favorite things about him

“s’alright. we’re here, though, so we gotta get out of the car.”

his thick eyebrows furrow in confusion, turning to look out the window to figure out where “here” is.

once he sees the familiar logo on the building right next to your parking spot, he looks back over at you.

“are they even still open?” he asks you, his tone lifting in a hopeful tone you haven’t heard for days.

you shake your head yes, trying not to grin like an idiot as his small show of excitement. “called them before we left, asked if they’d stay open a little bit longer for a special customer.”

the small, swiss owned bakery was somewhere you and nico had found on one of his few days off, simply setting out to explore the city with no plan in mind. on your lengthy walk, the sky had unexpectedly opened up, drenching both of you to your core. you ran into the closest storefront you could find, needing cover from the downpour.

the second your soaked figures trampled into the store, you were met with some of the most delicious smells you’d ever encountered in your life. the small space was empty, other than a plump older woman cleaning a display case of some of the most delicious looking pastries you’d ever seen.

“oh je!” the woman exclaimed when she saw the state of the two of you.

you thought the expression has sounded familiar, but couldn’t place it before she started speaking again.

“oh you poor kids, please, come sit, let me get you something to dry yourself,” the woman insisted, pulling out a couple of chairs at a small table, rushing off to find something dry to give you.

you heard her voice conversing with someone, a language you definitely had heard before, while you took your seat in the wooden chair.

she came back out to the two of you with warm dish towels, allowing you to at least rid your face of the excess water. nico was eyeing her suspiciously as she was bumbling about her husband making both of you a hot tea and something warm to snack on with it.

when he started speaking swiss german to her, you had no clue what was being said, but you loved the way he melted into being able to use his native language with someone who understood him and spoke it back. a tall, thin old man came out of seemingly nowhere in the middle of their conversation, two mugs of tea in hand.

the older man joined right in their conversation, his kind face just as excited as nico seemed to be.

the two of you ended up sitting in the small bakery for longer than anticipated, the rain long gone before you made your exit. the conversation had eventually switched back to english, the woman explaining how they had moved to the states many years ago, their dream of owning a bakery in the city finally coming to fruition a couple of years ago.

nico was amazed at the selection of swiss desserts they had, and praised their recipes as being reminiscent of his mothers. the couple insisted you take a whole hoard of stuff home, wanting nico to have a piece of home to enjoy.

the hidden gem ended up being a frequent weekend destination for you and nico, making a visit at least once a week when he’s home. the shop was so small and off the beaten path that nico never had to worry about someone spotting him there, going and sitting and conversing with his new friends for hours as you sat and watched their animated conversations.

you even found yourself frequenting the bakery on your own when nico was gone for any length of time, needing your own pastry fix. always being welcomed with open arms, you never left without a special pastry just for nico to have when he returned home.

which is what lead you here tonight, wanting to bring him even the smallest bit of comfort you could.

“schätz, did you really?” he uses the term of endearment you loved the most, having heard the shop owner utter it to his wife several times during your visits. “you shouldn’t have, they need their rest.”

you roll your eyes at his insistence on never wanting someone go to any extra lengths for him. he never wants anyone to be inconvenienced for his sake, even during times like these when he deserves to be made to feel special.

“hush, they insisted on it. you know how they are, too stubborn for their own good,” you wave off his concern, the concerned tone of the woman fresh in your mind when you called and explained the situation. “they even told me they were making something extra special for you tonight, so i hope you’re hungry after all that skating.”

nico doesn’t react to your words, staring at you so intently you were beginning to squirm at the gaze.

sensing your shift in body language, nico breaks the loud silence of the car.

“i love you, you know that?”

you giggled at his words, because of course you know that. he tells you all the time. every day. as often as he can.

“yes, neeks, i know that. and i love you too.”

he shakes his head slightly.

“no, i mean it. i love you so much. you…you always know what to do when i’m being a pouty mess. you never fail to make me feel better by just being you, but when you do things like this, even though i’ve been closed off and pouty this whole week because of the team and how our game is right now, even when i don’t deserve it, you still always manage to know exactly what i need.”

he grabs your hand in the middle of his small speech, needing to touch you so you can feel his words and his sentiments.

“well, you do deserve this. you always do. especially with how things have been going for you lately, because you’re giving it your all, always. and i’m proud of you. win or lose, i’m so proud of you, nico.”

you squeeze his hand in yours, emphasizing your point.

nico can’t stand how far away you are from him all of a sudden, reaching over and pulling your face across the console to meet his, consuming himself in you. the feeling of your lips on his melts away any thought in his head about his job and is filled with only you. the taste of your fruity chapstick, the softness of your face in his hands, the smell of your perfume still left over from earlier.

he tries to tease your lips open with a swipe of his tongue, but you give a small laugh as you pull yourself back.

“alright now, can’t be doing all that, now. you’ve got a hot, home cooked swiss meal waiting on you i promised some very eager people you’d be by to try ten minutes ago. don’t want them to think we flaked, do you?”

“oh god, i hope it’s traditional fondue,” he groans at the idea. “i’m sorry, baby, but this american version is shit, and i can’t pretend to like it anymore,” he completely switches up on you, taken over by the thought of food, completely unaware you’d already expressed to the owners how it was his favorite, a hot pot of the cheesy dish awaiting him behind the door he’s speeding towards.

#so this was way longer than i meant for it to be #but once i started i couldn’t stop #i hope it’s what you wanted !!#hockey #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x you #hockey blurb #hockey fic #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nh13

353 notes · View notes

kamospeach · 4 days ago

Text

fuck it guess we both ain't shit .ᐟ

plot: bodyguard!toji just can't help but show his charge what she's missing

content warning: cheating on both ends, age gap(21 & 32), second hand embarrassment, pwp, fingering, cunnilingus, mating press, doggystyle, oral f! & m!recieving, cum eating, p in v sex, quickie

peachy's yap: wc! 2.6k. cringed writing this :P without cringe how else would i get him to blow her back out? i don't believe in cheating, pls remember everything is FICTIONAL before y'all jump me.

“i do not need a bodyguard!” you yell at your father who rubs his temples getting fed up with your antics. you’ve been against the bodyguard idea and have had the bodyguard for two weeks already. speaking of said bodyguard he stood there shoulders slumped listening to you argue this. you did this every day‘ it’s getting old…’ toji thought to himself.

toji watched your every move as you paced back and forth in your father's office. your short pink pleated shirt that left little or maybe even nothing to the imagination. it showed the bottom of your ass and the tattoo of the 'Brat' logo under your left ass cheek. your extremely tight crop top that showed an unnecessary amount of cleavage. your hair past your hips almost mid-thigh.

to toji you looked fuckin' hot but that was because he was a womanizer. any woman dressed in a small amount of clothing was his type.

he knew his job was to protect but he had an inkling his father wasn't really the best at hiring people. toji came to the interview dressed in ragged clothing a black shirt with a half circle cut out the left side. his sweatpants had small stains of blood that your father somehow didn't see. if anyone else had seen toji they would have immediately raised red flags faster than you can blink.

but your puny, oblivious, money-hungry, self-centered, (toji's words), and questionably caring father didn't notice. hired toji the same day and bought him a suit until his custom-tailored ones could be ordered. took him to your penthouse gave him the code to your door and dropped him off downstairs. he huffed that day realizing 'great father' would never be one of your dad's many attributes. yet who was he to judge?

“IT’S TOO FUCKIN LATE Y/N HE’S IN A TWO-YEAR CONTRACT.” your father yelled at you, you frowned turning around. you walked away snapping your fingers twice signaling toji to follow you. toji didn’t like you either the feeling was insanely mutual.

“take me to my boyfriend’s house,” you instructed toji who had no choice but to obey you. he started the car taking you to your boyfriend’s house. knowing the way there since you went there every day. and as always toji was required to follow you in the house.

it was a little different this time, you barked orders at your boyfriend. yelling at him telling him ‘get toji a drink’ and your boyfriend nods running off. he handed toji a bottle of water and you snap your fingers at your boyfriend. giving him a sharp glare ordering ‘take me upstairs’. to which he obliged picking you up.

toji sat downstairs on his phone telling his wife he’d probably be home late. toji wish he could quit after he met you and got to know you personally. and this? was the worst part of the day, when you’d go to your boyfriend’s house. while your boyfriend fucked you and you let out fake moans and your boyfriend yelled out in pleasure.

he honestly felt bad for you, not only were you an annoying spoiled brat. but you couldn’t get fucked properly by your shitty ass suck-up boyfriend. you were a naturally dominant woman and you wouldn’t get any pleasure if you weren't with a man who was as dominant as you.

you walked down the stairs rolling your eyes as your boyfriend begged you to stay. you being your bratty self waved him off and snapped for toji to follow you. he was getting fed up with the demands and was sure he was gonna tell you off soon.

he drove you to your house parking the company's car and getting out. he opened the door for you allowing you to leave. as always toji followed you to the door of your penthouse making sure you got in safely.

"leave me!" you yelled at toji and that was his last straw.

"i'm getting real tired of your shit. your a fucking spoiled brat, if this is gonna work you need to learn real manners. you dont yell at me and snap your fingers just 'cause your daddy's money is going into my pocket," he yelled at you. you were taken aback. no way was he yelling at you. you owned him. "

"just like you said my dad is paying you. which means if i say you're fired you'll be fired," you said and he raised a brow at your dumb assumption.

"your name is nowhere on the contract... you hold no power over me. we're both equals you work for your dad and so do i. we're practically co-workers darlin' nothing more nothing less." he said with a smug smirk. your nostrils were flaring in anger and your fist clenched by your side. your brain scrambling for a comeback to say to this ignorant man.

"well yea... i'll get my boyfriend to beat you up!" you yell voice shaky and toji chuckles darkly. he walked towards you, you were shivering under his intense glare.

"your weak ass boyfriend can't even make you cum and you think he'll beat me up?" he laughed and your face dropped.

"h...how did you know i wasn't finishing?" you ask swallowing a big lump in your throat. it was getting intense and toji had backed you into a corner. figuratively and literally. your back was pressed against the island and his hands trapped you.

"i've sat downstairs listening to your fake moans and his weak thrusts for 2 weeks now." toji smirked as you looked away from you. "plus i know what it sounds like when a woman's actually cumming."

the silence was loud and your breathing was erratic. toji looked back at your microwave checking the time. his brain was fighting his heart to go along with what he was thinking he'd do. while toji was deciding what he wanted to do, you knew what you wanted. when toji turned his face back to you you smashed your lips on his.

you pulled back remembering not only was he 11 years older than you, he was a married man. you both looked at each other in shock you held your breath hoping he wouldn't snitch to your father. but before you knew it toji's lips were back on yours, he picked you up placing you on the counter. his fingers ran across your thighs as your hands rubbed up and down his toned back.

it was wrong you knew it but did you care? hell no. his wife was a bitch anyway, you knew she was just a backup for his first dead wife. even if you did hear it unethically from snooping in on your father's childlike gossip. he didn't really like his wife so this technically isn't wrong. just as you finally let go of all thoughts it was toji's turn to pull away.

"this is wrong... i'm married, you have a boyfriend-" you cut him off not wanting to hear the excuses.

"you don't like your wife and my boyfriend can't make me cum. i think we have good reason for what we're doing this," you say and toji's eyebrows furrowed.

"those aren't good reasons..." he mumbled ignoring his thoughts and grabbed your chin roughly pulling you to him. he kissed you roughly your teeth clashing. the roughness of his fingernails digging in your skin knowing when he removed his hand there would be prominent crescent indents on your jaw.

he was so rough and it wasn't how you were used to. usually, you initiated everything with your boyfriends. it seemed as if toji was in a rush to get it over with and he needed you as soon as possible. he played with your thong under your tiny skirt.

his fingers slipped under the band of your thong pulling on it and letting it snap against your skin. "get down and go to your room." he tells you backing away and you furrow your brows.

"you can't carry me up there?" and he laughs walking away from you and heading to your room. this was shocking for you it felt like you went from one extreme to the next. first, you were with a submissive nice man and here you are with a dominant asshole. you swallowed your spit as you walked into your room seeing toji standing there naked.

you knew toji would be big but not that big. he was bigger than any guy you've ever slept with. you walked over to toji while stripping out of your clothes. you were down to your bra and skirt when toji grabbed your waist pulling you closer. he unclasped your bra letting it fall to the floor and tossed you on the bed.

you propped yourself on your arms and toji leaned over you pressing his lips on yours. your hands were anxiously touching him everywhere nervously. you felt like a virgin not sure where to put your hands or what to do. without any warning, toji pulled down your skirt and thong all in one pull. he kissed down your neck and pulled away glancing at his watch.

"we got 20 minutes," he said going back to kissing your neck sucking and nipping at the spot that made you moan.

"un...until what?" you asked and he laughed.

"until i have to leave. my wife's expecting me," he mumbled and you frowned.

"don't mention her while you're with me from now on," you tell him and he smirks.

"as you wish doll," he agreed not wanting to talk about his wife anyway. although it was wrong you both felt so right being here with each other. for you, toji was everything you needed rough and in control. for toji... well, you just gave it up and he wasn't one to turn down pussy he didn't have to pay for.

he kissed down your chest teasing you purposely missing your nipples. until you whined out and told him to stop teasing. he played with your clit rubbing and collecting your juices on his finger. pulling away from your nipples placing two fingers in your mouth. you grabbed his wrist as you tasted yourself on his digits.

after your spit was running down his fingers he removed it from your mouth. he pushed them in your entrance feeling how tight your needy cunt is. he scissored his fingers attempting to stretch you out. toji didn't talk much and initially, he wasn't in the mood for intimate foreplay. but now he did want to taste you since you were so wet.

he continued kissing down your body and one last time on the mound of your privates. he wasted no time sucking on your clit while vigorously fingering you.

"toji wait." you moaned out the feeling was becoming too much for you. you had never been eaten out before and this was new for you. the stimulation of your clit and his fingers massaging your rough g-spot had you gasping for air. your hands reached for his black hair pulling harshly. he groaned against you making you squeal in pleasure.

his tongue moved expertly against your clit taking his fingers out of you. you whined missing his fingers inside you and he leaned over you. he looked down at you with a bored expression but your clouded mind read it as admiration.

"ya ready?" he asked and you melted at the concern in his voice that you were definitely making up. you nodded lost in thought as toji wasted no time pushing into your entrance. your body arched at the feeling of him stretching you out.

he didn't wait for you to adjust to his size and started stroking immediately. you were moaning at the feeling already pushing on his stomach.

"take some out." you moaned head thrown back and toji just laughed at your pleas.

"it's only halfway in doll," he whispered in your ear pushing himself all the way in now. you tried to run from him but he gripped your waist holding you in place. you couldn't believe that it was only part way initially. yet you could definitely tell the difference now. his cockhead was kissing your cervix as he roughly pounded into you. you reached up to grab his face pulling it down to you and kissing him messily.

his hips didn't slow or stutter as he pounded into you mercilessly. he was fucking like he needed to leave right away, you could've sworn you both had another 15 minutes. he grabbed your legs pushing them against your chest putting you in a mating press.

"did he fuck you like this?" he grunted looking down at your tight cunt that sucked him in like a vice. you were squelching and your cream was painting his dick white. the view pushing toji closer and closer to his release.

"mm mm..." you hummed but it came out more of a moan. toji wasn't satisfied with this answer. he wanted to hear you say that he was the best you ever had.

"use your words ma. did he fuck you like this?" he repeated himself thrusting into you with a particularly pointed thrust as you were about to talk.

"nooo!" you squeaked and he pulled out smiling at the mess of cream on your folds. he flipped you over perfecting your arch and sliding into you again.

"fuck you're so tight," he groaned pushing himself into you. he gripped both of your ass cheeks roughly nails digging into the fatty flesh. once he calmed himself so he wouldn't nut too early he begin to fuck you again. this time making it a point to push his tip into your g-spot.

"toji m'close," you mumbled as your face was pressed into the pillow. before you knew it you felt pressure on the side of your face. your eyes opened seeing toes in your face.

you were in utter shock toji had his foot on your head thrusting into you relentlessly. the new found angle only pushing you closer and closer to release. you reached under yourself playing with your clit. you clenched around his dick making his thrust slow down at the grip.

"relax doll m'right behind you, just hold it for me," he grumbled still thrusting into you letting out small moans and guttural groans. he pulled out jerking himself off flipping you over and rubbing your clit quickly.

"fuck toji!" you yelled as your body convulsed and jerked as your squirt soaked him and the bed. he slapped your clit causing your body to lightly flinch from the feeling on your clit.

he crawled over you hover over your chest stroking his cock over your face. his dick twitched in his hand and his hips bucked into his hand. you leaned up wrapping your lips around his tip and swirling your tongue until you felt him release his hot cum down your throat.

"fuck yea ma that's it." he hummed as you took him down your throat and pulled off him with a pop. you swallowed his cum open your mouth sticking out your tongue.

"ah." you showed toji that you swallowed it all and he smirked softly smacking your cheek.

"good girl." he smiled looking at the watch on his wrist. "5 minutes to spare," he hummed to himself getting off of you. he didn't bother cleaning you up, he simply slipped on his boxers, then his suit.

"uh," you say not really sure what to say to be honest. he looked up at you where he sat on the end of your bed putting on his shoes.

"see you tomorrow," he said grabbing his phone and keys from your nightstand. without waiting to hear it back from you he jogged down your steps and to your front door. he left out locking the door with the code. you sat on your bed looking down at your hands with a smile.

"so that means we're together? right?" you thought to yourself out loud.

sure girl... sure.

251 notes · View notes