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byuntrash101 · 10 months

Text

the drill

reader x switch!yunho ft. wooyoung and mingi smut | mdni 6.8k yunho cant seem to pick up anyone at the club. for two main reasons, two problems if you will. the first one: his rizz level is negative and the second one... well it's bigger. much, much bigger. a huge problem wooyoung has named "the drill"

nsfw tags under the cut

alcohol consumption, ons to lovers (?), yunho's kind of a loser but so are you, mingi is a fuck boy, woo is the annoyingly clairvoyant friend <3, switch dom leaning!yunho, pushing the monster cock!yunho agenda (consider this fic a peer reviewed academic study), no but seriously he's H.U.G.E., size training, oral (m & f), very difficult blowjob (because duhh), choking on cock (duh x2), a dash of spit kink, fingering, pet names (baby, good girl), praising, protected sex (good job kids), bulge kink, slight edging, slight begging (not my fic without it lol), slight cumplay

a/n: i had a blasttt writing this im pretty happy with this i hope you will enjoy reading it too. thank you @cybrsan for beta reading this. you are so kind and i learned a lot <3

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Yunho didn't even know why he stood here. He didn't know how he let Wooyoung and Mingi drag him to yet an other party. To this packed night club while he originally invited them over to play league of legends, maybe drink a couple of beers and chill. Cause that's what he wanted to do. He wanted to spend a quiet night in, hearing Mingi complain about how he didn't want to play healer anymore and having Wooyoung shatter his eardrums with that infuriating hyena laugh of his.

And that? That was the exact complete opposite of it.

There was nothing quiet and chill about this night. Only one thing was still on the order of business. His ear drums were being damaged beyond repair, not by the high pitched laugh but by the loud and bass boosted blaring noise music. He could already feel the headache coming in.

Yunho brought the lukewarm and flat beer to his lips. He finished the drink with a grimace before setting it on the edge of the bar, his eyes scanning the amalgamation of sweaty bodies grinding and pressing against each other.

"Why the long face?" Wooyoung asked as he slipped to his tall friend's side.

Yunho sighed and chose to answer the question with another one.

"Why did you bring me here again?" He asked, round eyes turning sharp as he peered at the younger man.

"Oh I don't know," Wooyoung started sarcastically. "Maybe to drag you out of your cave for once?" He replied in disbelief, he should be grateful he’s being such a good friend to him!

Yunho only rolled his eyes and grunted in annoyance at his response. Why did he care this much that he enjoyed staying in and being on his own?

"Look at Mingi," Wooyoung said over the music. Yunho followed his gaze to glance at his other friend on the other side of the club. "He knows how to have a good time!" Wooyoung said with a smirk.

Yunho quirked his eyebrow as he observed Mingi chatting up not one but two girls. Whispering something in one girl's ear while he curled his arm around the waist of the other one. Making them both giggle and look up at him while he peered at them over his sunglasses.

Mingi was Yunho’s friend. Maybe even his best friend but… he looked like a douche.

"What kind of guy wears sunglasses inside… at night?" Yunho spat.

"The kind that gets bitches," Wooyoung remarked, jabbing at Yunho.

"Fuck off Woo," Yunho barked at him.

Yeah so what? Yes it had been a hot minute since he found himself being… intimate with a girl but it wasn't his fault! It was only because of his… issue…

"Come on dude. You don't have to stay bitchless, you know?" Wooyoung nudged his tall friend. "Why don't you try your luck with one of the dozens of women here that came for the same thing as you?"

"I," Yunho emphasized. "Did not come for that." He cleared his throat. "And you know I never get very far Woo!" He barked again. Truthfully Wooyoung was getting on his nerves.

"Bro! There's no way you can't find just ONE girl here that would be willing to take on the drill?"

Yunho shushed him and looked around him frantically as if anyone could have heard him over the blaring music.

"I already told you not to call it that!!" Of course Wooyoung only laughed at his friend's concern.

"I'm sorry but it's only the truth. Like that massive thing can only be handled by a licensed professional." He laughed again.

"Fuck off!" Yunho repeated, unconsciously crossing his hands over his lower half.

“No, but seriously. You just gotta find one that matches the vibe,” Wooyoung said, his eyes narrowing into a sly frown. His gaze wiped over the crowd while Yunho only sighed, turning his back to his friends to go get another beer.

“Wait,” Wooyoung gripped on his shirt before Yunho had the time to flee his friend’s ridiculous plan. “What about this one?”

The tall man followed Wooyoung’s finger pointing at a girl sitting at the bar, seemingly alone and absentmindedly stirring the mint leaves in her mojito.

“Woo, can you please shut up for a second while I get myself another overpriced beer and try to forget about this conversation forever? Thank you!” Yunho said, exasperated and turning on his heels again.

“No, no, no! Dude,” Wooyoung called him out again, holding his friend by his side. The shorter man rolled his eyes at his tall friend’s stubbornness. “I really have a good feeling about her.” Wooyoung insisted.

“And why is that?” Yunho asked, obvious mockery underlining his tone.

“Look at her, man!” Wooyoung pointed, choosing to completely ignore his friend's sarcasm. “She’s slumping over the bar counter, she’s been stirring her mojito for the past ten minutes but hasn’t had a single sip of it. She keeps looking over at Mingi with a scornful pout and look! In a second she’s gonna check her watch again.” he paused for a second. “See!!” Wooyoung exclaimed and turned to his friend who looked rather unimpressed. “She’s like you, man! She does not want to be here and she’s at least as lonely as you.”

Yunho frowned at the younger man, that last bit was totally unnecessary.

“Plus, she’s pretty! I know she’s your style.” Yunho frowned in an attempt to deny Wooyoung but it was true. Wooyoung felt like he was gaining the upper hand in the negotiations so he continued.

“You should go talk to her. Just talk!” Wooyoung added when he saw Yunho open his mouth to protest again. “I mean just talk, see if it goes anywhere and if it doesn't, then it doesn’t and I promise I’ll kick Mingi’s ass back into the car and drive us all home right that second!” He pledged.

Yunho looked over again at his tall friend and his two targets of the night. Even though Mingi was considerably taller and bulkier than Wooyoung he knew about the latter’s determination and sheer force of will that would turn any wolf into a sheepish puppy. So he didn’t doubt one second that he would be doing just that.

But first at had to “shoot his shot” with… you.

The girl moping at the bar, as if a rain cloud was perpetually following her around. And there was a good reason for it. You recently got dumped. Your friends took you out to this club to celebrate and hopefully get you over him. Truthfully, you had felt relieved because Jongho was just a jerk to you and you have been slipping out of love for a while but still! It hurt that you had to come to the realization that it was over for real this time around.

Granted you were in fact single but you were not so ready to mingle…yet. At some point in the evening they got tired of trying to cheer you up and just left you at the bar to enjoy the company of your little rain cloud by yourself.

“You don’t look like you’re having a great time either,” Yunho said, ordering another beer for himself. The deep voice pulled you out of your day dreaming as you looked up at him with round eyes. “Can I sit here?” he asked and you nodded silently. He didn’t let it show but he’s actually kind of relieved you didn’t turn him down on the spot.

“Yeah I'm not having the time of my life that’s for sure,” you sighed, clinking the melting ice cubes against the glass with your soggy paper straw.

“Why?” Yunho asked while casually wiping his sweaty palms over his distressed jeans.

You bit your lip. Trauma dumping about your not-so-prince-charming jerkface of an ex to a total stranger wasn’t probably the best idea in the world even if the alcohol in your system said otherwise, luckily you still had far too few drinks to start this conversation. So you opted for the easy going explanation.

“My friends ditched me for Mr. Tall-Douchebag over there.”

Yunho followed your gesture to Mingi bending over to whisper something in a girl's ear as he slid his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose while his other hand held onto the other girl’s bare waist, rubbing his thumb on her skin as she giggled, the cropped top she was wearing not concealing the patch of skin there.

Mingi was Yunho’s friend but he was also a dog. And that was just the plain truth despite the fact that their friendship went back to middle school.

“Yeah that guy looks like an asshole,” Yunho said in all sincerity.

“No shit,” you scoffed “What kind of giga chad wears sunglasses in a club… at night?” you rolled your eyes in disbelief and finally brought your straw to your lips to take a sip of the diluted mojito.

Yunho started to laugh. Maybe Wooyoung wasn't wrong after all. There was something about you that was right for Yunho, somehow your vibes matched. He even started to relax ever so slightly next to you.

“But did you say ‘either’?” you questioned. “Does that imply you too are not having a grand ol’ time?”

Yunho chuckled humorlessly.

“Well, no. Not really,” he confessed as he grabbed the beer the barman was handing out and shoved a couple of wrinkled bills in his hand in exchange.

You returned the mojito to the bar counter and turned to him, now that he was seeing you a little better you were indeed pretty, prettier than what the bar’s red and purple neons were leading on from a distance. But up close Yunho realized Wooyoung was right about that too, you were his type.

He swallowed thickly, your undivided attention brought back a sense of nervousness into him and he sipped on his beer for a small dose of liquid courage. “I invited a couple of my friends over and we were supposed to stay in and play League but instead they ganged up on me and dragged me here,” he sighed.

That was the truth! Yunho only carefully omitted all the parts where his friends made him sound like a lonely loser. So that wasn’t a lie! It was curated truth. He sipped on his beer once again to ease his nerves.

You gasped loudly and Yunho’s eyebrows arched in surprise at your reaction.

“Oh I wished I would have done that too,” you pouted, before taking another sip. “And how did they convince you to end up here then?” you asked once again, setting the glass down and looking up at the tall brunette seated next to you.

Uh oh.

That was bad. Yunho wasn’t actually the best at performing under pressure. And especially when said pressure was looking at him with beautiful shiny lips and such a wholesome and genuine smile.

“Well I-...uh,” Yunho started to stammer which seemed to entertain you as the genuine smile turned into an amused little grin. The tall man brushed his long bangs back in an attempt to regain his composure which worked to some extent. “I’ve been on my own for a while, too long if you listen to my friends and they said that maybe they could find me a nice girl to… keep me company,” he said before clearing his throat and attempting to push the lump in his throat back with two large gulps of cool beer.

Wow, that was lame. So much for not sounding like a total loser…

“And I'm the nice girl you settled for?” you asked, breaking eye contact. Yunho felt uneasy again, he couldn't make of your expression right there. Did he blow his chance by being too sincere with you? And why did he feel so bad that he just might have? Did he want to impress you that bad? When initially he only wanted to exchange a couple of sentences just to call it quits and get Wooyoung to drive him home but now was he actually trying?

“Too honest maybe?” Yunho said before pinching his lip between his teeth as you shrugged nonchalantly and took another sip.

Yes, maybe a little too honest indeed you thought as you sipped on the drink that was basically only water at this point. You were just another girl that was to be used to feel a little less lonely…

“Ughh. I suck at this,” Yunho groaned in frustration.

“At what?” you asked, his tone peaking your curiosity right when you thought you had figured him out.

“At this!” Yunho said, gesturing at the air between the both of you. “At chatting up pretty girls! At flirting!” He sighed again, feeling defeated.

Key word: pretty.

You grinned, you too felt lonely and you figured there was no harm in helping each other out. For tonight at least.

“It’s okay,” you said, suddenly wrapping your hand around his, tightly holding the beer pint. Which made him stiffen in the uncomfortable bar stool. “I don't really like the smooth talkers anyways.” You sent him a cheeky wink and Yunho felt like his stomach had somehow acquired a trampoline.

“Really?” he said, lips going round in surprise, eyes snapping to where you were rubbing small circles on the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, satisfied with the effet this simple touch had on him. “I’m not really into fuck boys,” you said, gesturing to the tall man in sun glasses once more.

Yunho knew you were referencing Mingi again but he didn’t have it in him to peel his eyes off you to look at him. His eyes traveled from your hand, up the curve of your arm, to the low neckline of your beautiful black dress (where he stayed longer than he intended) and finally (with much effort) to your own eyes fixated in his. Yunho was mesmerized, like a shipwrecked sailor being bewitched by the chant of a siren, like a parched pariah catching sight of an oasis on the horizon after days of wandering in the desert.

“So…” he started hesitantly, his heart beating against his ribs and resonating in his ears. “If I offered you a ride home to get out of this hell hole and get to know each other, would you maybe say yes?”

It wasn’t a coincidence that Yunho spoke in the conditional tense. He didn’t want to jinx himself, he never was the superstitious kind but as he was experiencing this streak of luck with you he found himself to be.

You chuckled again at his cuteness.

“Yes,” you said, batting your eyelashes flirtatiously. “Yes, I would.”

***

It wasn't long before you found yourselves tangled up into each other on your couch, your last drinks getting warm on the coffee table, barely even touched.

To your surprise, Yunho’s hold was gentle and patient. You felt comfortable in his arms as his warm and large palm gently pressed against your nape. His soft lips finding yours and pulling you in this delicate kiss, almost like a good morning kiss. It isn't rushed at all, like he has the whole day (or in this case night) to get to know you and to give you a thousand more. If he really was as touch deprived as he claimed to be he wasn't letting it on at all.

That raised suspicion on your side and you broke the kiss. Immediately Yunho’s eyes fluttered open and he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, worry taking over his features again.

“So,” you start, slightly shifting in his hold. “Tell me why you said you weren’t good at flirting again?” you say as you plant a soft kiss in the crook of his neck, making his Adam's apple bobble in his throat. He could feel himself getting hard and you felt his fingers lightly twitch around your nape. “Because to me it seems like you are pretty good at it.” You licked a large swipe on his blazing skin and drew back to look at him. “I mean, less than an hour ago I was moping on my own in the club…” you slipped your hand up his shirt to undo the first button. “And now I'm all over you, kissing you and about to do much more,” you whispered softly. The promise of what’s to come had Yunho’s length jumping between his thighs.

“I thought you’d be all over me, tearing my clothes off the second I got to lock the doors. But there you are taking your sweet time. It doesn't add up.” You popped off another button and slipped your hands over his collar bone.

Yunho was torn between the heat that pooled in his stomach with every single one of your touches and the actual dread he felt to move things forward. Because he knew all too well what usually happened at this point of the story.

And although it was actually fear that kept him from tearing every single article of clothing clean off your body, you mistook it for some kind of elaborate plan to get you alone.

“I’m actually pretty nervous, that's why I haven’t done… a lot more,” he said, hesitantly.

“About what, baby?” you cooed, latching your lips on his skin again, earning a cute little whimper, your fingers working their way down to the last couple of buttons still holding his shirt together.

The pet name made Yunho’s heart sing, thousands of butterflies launching in his stomach, sending waves of tingles towards his groin.

“Because this is usually where it stops.” He let out a shaky breath as you pushed the cotton off one of his shoulders and let your fingertips drag across his soft skin, going down to his collarbone to his pecs to his abs. “Because the girls usually leave at this point.”

“Why?” you said, lips still pressed to his skin, hands reaching the button of his jeans.

“Because I’m…” Yunho hissed as your other hand came in to play with his nipple while you still went down, your hand brushing over the jeans. “Because I’m too big.”

There. He said it.

This coincided with the moment your hand laid over the colossal bulge in Yunho’s pants. You couldn't help but to stop everything, you stayed there frozen upon your discovery.

Yunho could only close his eyes shut as he felt you immobile all of a sudden.

Well, it was fun while it lasted at least.

“I can go if you want me to,” he said as neutral as possible, but he couldn't help but let disappointment tint his voice. He can’t explain why but it felt different this time, he really wanted it to work with you. He wanted you.

“No!” you said as you held onto him when he shifted to get out of your hold and onto his feet. “Wait,” your fingers gliding over the bulge, moving once more. Instantly he sat down again against you. You cupped him, gauging the size and evaluating the challenge at hand, said challenge generously spilling out of your grasp as it could not be contained within your palm.

“We could at least try, right?”

“Really?” he exclaimed, before letting out a choked gasp as your grip grew a little tighter.

“Yeah,” you sighed, still gently rubbing over his hard on. “I’m determined and stubborn and my parents didn't raise no quitter,” you said, trying to throw some humor onto this to deescalate the situation and it did the trick.

“The only thing is… I don't think I have a condom that would fit you,” you say, suddenly bashful.

“Oh… hm. I brought mine” Yunho started to pat his pockets hastily. “It’s in my wallet, in my vest, in the… car,” he said, voice growing quieter as he realized he will have to go get it.

You then hopped on your feet. Yunho's hips instinctively bucking up, chasing the friction.

“How about you go get it and come back to meet me in the bedroom?”

Yunho only nodded vigorously before you turned on your feet and walked to one of the closed doors of the hall, he couldn't stop his eyes from falling down to look at your ass roll in the black dress as you walked away. You turned back before disappearing behind the door.

“Don't take too long, ok?” you teased him with a smile.

Yunho didn’t need more to snap him out of his trance and run, no, fly to his car. He barged in the hallway of the apartment complex, not even trying for the elevator, he knew with his long legs he'd be faster if he took the stairs. So he flew over the two flights of stairs and ran to his car to practically rip the wallet from the inner pocket of his coat and stuffed the condom in his back pocket before swallowing the two flights of stairs again and coming back into the apartment, short of breath.

As afraid as he was a couple of minutes ago to go faster with you, now every second where he didn't have you to himself felt like an eternity.

The apartment was completely dark except for a ray of light that was coming from under the door you disappeared behind. Yunho velvet traded across the living room to the hall and to the door, guided by the line of light, the golden thread he ought to follow to reach heaven.

He delicately pushed in. And he felt like he had opened Pandora's box. He found you completely nude, waiting cross legged on the edge of your bed for him. The dim light from the nightstand sweeping across your form and casting the otherworldly shadow of your divine outline onto the wall. You were absolutely sublime. A sight that went straight to his groin, pumping brand new and boiling blood to his half hard member.

You sat up straight putting both your feet flat on the ground as Yunho approached you. You held your palm flat to him without a word and he handed over the magnum condom in a black and gold packaging. You settled it on the nightstand before bringing your attention back to the elephant (quite fitting term) in the room.

Now that he was standing close to you and you were really at eye level with the thing you were really getting a feel for it. Yunho was indeed really big, the thick outline of his length progressed way down his pant's leg making it impossible to miss.

You gently undid the button of his jeans and pulled on his zipper, the vibrations on his length making him frown, completely entranced by your hand moving on him.

You hooked your fingers onto the waistband of the pants and his underwear and very gently pulled the fabric down, Yunho’s open shirt still floating as his sides. Gradually you had a peep at the trimmed hair of his pubic bone and then you uncovered the base of his cock. He was incredibly girthy and it only got bigger as you continued to pull on his pants. It was only when you were mid thigh that the member sprung free infront of your face and you audibly gasped at the size.

The girthy member sat heavily between Yunho’s thighs, the tip an angry shade of red and profusely leaking at the slit. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't have masked how eager he was for you. His cock has been leaking ever since you got in his car and he got to smell your flowery perfume without the parasitizing smell of smoke and alcohol from the club. But that he couldn’t possibly say out loud.

He held his breath when you wrapped both your hands around his base, his cock twitching at the minimal contact of your fingers interlaced around him. You were still measuring him, getting an idea. He was as long as your forearm and as thick as your fist.

In other words, he was ridiculously big. If he had said one hour ago when you were back at the club that he was walking around with a literal third leg you would have laughed in his face and left him there. But now that you were seeing it with your very eyes, it was different.

Yunho grew nervous as you stayed there eyeing him down with this puzzled expression.

“So what do you say?” He asked, his toes wiggling on the carpeted floor nervously.

You didn’t even say anything back, only aimed the tip at your lips and started to lick around the sensitive cock head. Yunho emitted the most beautiful sound you had ever heard, a deep sigh of relief and pleasure as he let his head roll back, his large palm instantly finding your hair to intertwine his fingers with it.

You licked around the tip thoroughly, earning more airy sighs from the brunette before you pursed your lips and sent a big wad of spit on his length. Making him moan a little clearer as you dragged your warm spit down to his base with both hands. You spat again to make sure to lubricate him thoroughly, before taking him in your mouth.

As soon as your lips wrapped around the tip, you heard Yunho softly curse from above you. Your lips stretched around the girthy tip with difficulty and slid down as far as you could manage until he hit the back of your throat, and you weren’t even halfway through.

But Yunho didn't mind, it was the first time somebody even got that far and he swore he could have cum just by the look you gave him when your eyes snapped back to him and he saw your pretty face stuffed full of his fat cock, hair slightly disheveled by his doing, eyes glazed over with unspilled tears and your beautiful lips stretched to an unbelievable extent.

You felt him twitch on your tongue before you popped him out, taking a deep breath and going down again. His free hand dipped down to play with your breasts, he cupped them and flicked your hardened nipples a couple of times making you moan on his cock.

“Fuck baby,” he breathed. “Your mouth feels so good,” he panted. The praise made you confident enough to push your head a little further down, his cock reaching down to a brand new depth inside your throat.

“Fuckkkk,” Yunho sighed his hand on your hair holding you there for a second, just long enough for him to feel your gag reflex triggering and your throat clamping down on his cock trying to reject the massive foreign object that was obstructing your air pipe. When he pulled out again long strings of thick saliva linked your red and swollen lips to the raging tip of his cock and you coughed a couple of times, choking, the air burning your sore throat.

“Need you on my tongue right now. Wanna taste you,” he whispered as he practically tore the shirt off his shoulders and slipped out of his pants. He carefully pushed you towards the bed so you would be laid on your back and very gently his big hands wrapped around your thighs to pull them apart to finally lay eyes on your center.

Yunho licked his lips in anticipation, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening folds covered with your slick, the transparent liquid cascading from your entrance and running down your thighs, some even staining your bedding. He swiped a single finger on your slit, gathering some of your arousal.

“Fuck, baby you got this wet just by having my cock in your mouth,” Yunho smirked when he noticed you twitched at his words. So you liked a little dirty talk, that was good to know. He brought the digit covered with your essence to his mouth, moaning against his own fingers as your sweet and velvety nectar enveloped his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste so good.”

Yunho pulled on your hips so your ass would sit at the edge and he kneeled on the ground. He planted a couple soft kisses on your inner thighs and pubic bone, making you squirm, itching to be touched in the right places. Maybe next time he’ll make you beg for it but today he needed you as much as you needed him.

He gently wrapped his mouth around your clit, taking the swollen bud into his mouth and sucking on it gently. Your reaction was immediate, it has been quite a long time since you have felt the touch of somebody else and Yunho was good at what he was doing.

He went down to dip his tongue inside of you, parting your folds with his tongue and tasting the deepest parts of you, you arched your back and let his name fall off your lips.

“Aaah, hmph… Yun-ho,” you struggled to say as you unconsciously started to roll your hips against his face, smearing your juices over his cheeks and chin.

The way you called out his name and fucked yourself back on his face, shamelessly using his mouth to chase after your high had him leaking on the floor, as his aching cock sat heavily between his thighs.

That’s when he chose to stick two long fingers inside your tight heat, making you moan louder and stop dead in your tracks. You don't know how he managed that but he somehow found the perfect angle right away, curling the two digits right into your sweet spot, so you stayed put, exactly where you were while he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

He alternated between fast strokes then slower ones when he rolled his fingertips inside you teasing your g spot, to then go back to the quicker pace. Taking you on this rollercoaster of pleasure where he made you go up and down but never to your peak.

Yunho had no intent on making you cum, at least not right now, now he only wanted to prep you to take him inside you. He was stretching you out as much as possible to make sure he could fit his huge cock inside your tiny little pussy.

You had figured out that much but that didn’t keep you from slowly growing frustrated and therefore hungry for more. Much more.

So he slipped a fourth finger in.

At this point your body was covered with a light sheen of sweat making you beautifully glisten as the dim night stand lamp shone on you.

You gasped at how full you felt, arching your back, your hands fisting the sheets as you called his name again.

“You’re doing so good.” He pressed a soft kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “My good girl,” he cooed before he started to swirl his tongue around your clit, making your cunt clamp harder around his fingers.

You felt yourself throb at the possessive pronouns. You both knew you weren’t his. But for the both of you it was what felt good. You’ll have plenty of time to feel lonely again in the morning. Just for tonight you belonged to each other.

Your hands flew between your thighs where your fingers untangled with the long strands of brown hair, tugging at it, your frustration getting the best of you.

Yunho enjoyed the dull burn on his scalp as he kept on abusing your swollen bud, sucking, licking and flicking it. Until he felt you throb on his tongue. But before he could finish you he felt you pull on his hair hard enough for him to look up at you.

You were panting, your chest heaving up and down, disheveled from thrashing your head around and pushing it back into the mattress.

“Wanna cum on your cock,” you urged, panting, as plainly as that. After all of this teasing, you wanted to save your appetite for the main course.

Yunho could have bursted and cum all over the carpet with just those words. But instead he got back up and grabbed the rubber from your night stand, tearing the wrapper away and rolling the condom down his huge cock.

When he came back between your thighs he laid his cock on your stomach, and that's when you fully understood what you got yourself into. The sheer weight of the thing was in itself impressive but that was nothing compared to the size of it. It reached all the way to your midriff, the massive thing laying menacingly on your bare, sweaty skin.

Yunho then took the thick base in his hand and rubbed his tip at your entrance, coating it with your slick.

“You ready?” he asked, cheeks taking a pink hue, flashing you the most adorable of coy smile as if he wasn’t tongue fucking you a second ago. You only nodded, bracing yourself. Scared but foremost eager to be filled up again.

“Try to breathe, okay?” he advised right before he started to push himself inside you. Instinctively you let out a whine at the way your walls stretched around him as he gradually, very gently pushed his huge cock inside. You caught your lip between your teeth as your brows met on your forehead. Yunho was very attentive and didn't blink once to make sure he could read your micro expressions, so he could adapt the pace. He knew when to let you take a breather and when to keep pushing in. So when you let out a small cry and your hips jerked upwards slightly, he stopped.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, soft voice laced with concern.

“Well the obvious answer is yes.” You chuckled softly at his adorable worried expression. “But at the same time… It feels so good,” you said, half whispering, half moaning. And you felt his cock twitch inside you.

That was the very first time somebody has ever said that to him. He would lie if he said he didn't like that.

“Please keep going,” you said, whiny tone bordering on begging.

“Fuck baby,” Yunho breathed out. “Say that again.” His voice was somewhat urgent.

“Please Yunho, fill me up, I wanna feel you all inside of me.”

Yunho cursed under his breath again. He didn't need more to push the last couple of centimeters inside you. And just like that you’re full of him. He flipped both of your legs on his sturdy shoulders and leaned forward to kiss you. The softness is masked by the state of extreme urgency in which you both find yourselves in, the kiss is messy, sloppy, heated. Your teeth grazing against each other before you stuck your tongue out to let Yunho suck on it, you taste yourself on his tongue making you light headed before you bit on Yunho’s bottom lip to let it snap back against his teeth.

“Please fuck me,” you whispered against his teeth.

“Anything for you, baby.”

He started to pull out gently and pushed in again, with each thrust he went faster, his large frame still laid over you as he fucked you in the mating press. The position was just perfect, with both his feet firmly on the ground, Yunho had great control over his movements and could easily adjust the pace as a plus the angle was absolutely divine.

You whined and whimpered and cried with each stroke, his big cock perfectly brushing and poking at your soft spot, deep, deep inside you. A spot nobody had ever been able to reach, not even yourself. The new found source of pleasure made you cry out in bliss, your cunt taking a vice grip around Yunho’s huge cock.

“Fuck,” you yelped. “You’re so…aaah… big,” you moaned. “Feel so good inside me. Please keep going. Fuck me please,” your words were slurred, you barely made any sense but it didn’t matter. Yunho knew exactly what you meant.

“You’re so good, baby. So good to me.”

He moaned against your mouth, prying your jaw open with his thumb and letting his tongue slip into your mouth, his warm spit running down your tongue. You swallowed his saliva, along with each of his pants and grunts. The way you felt around him was surreal, your wet sopping cunt coating him with your slick making it so easy to slip in and out of you, so much so that at some point he found himself absolutely drilling into your cunt completely losing himself inside you. The lewd wet noises bouncing off the small dark room as he rearranged your guts.

“I won't last for long,” he whined, eyes closing shut as he tried his best not to burst.

“I’m almost there,” you said, your legs tensing up and wrapping around Yunho’s hips.

He stood back up straight and put one hand on your waist firmly gripping your side to pull you back on his cock every time he thrusted in. Admiring the outline of his cock poking inside of your stomach creating a visible bulge with every snap of his hips. He laid his large hand over your stomach, lightly pressing, making you yelp and feeling every come and go as his thumb found your swollen and throbbing clit.

The sudden pleasure made you cry out a sob. Yunho started to play with your clit as he was deep inside your guts. Drawing tight circles on it, teasing it so perfectly that you grew even tighter around him.

“Please be my good girl and cum for me,” he said in a strangled moan, knowing he could only last for a few more seconds. Snapping his hips into yours, making your tits jump with each powerful thrust. “God please, please cum,” he begged in a desperate little whimper, as he wanted nothing than to make you cum but he also knew he could only keep up for a few more agonizingly long (at least to him) seconds.

That's when you crossed the edge, your walls fluttered around his big cock as you reached your peak, white heat radiating from your core to each of your limbs, making your body shake uncontrollably and your cunt grip into Yunho’s length like its life depended on it. You were completely delirious with pleasure, the earth shattering orgasm washing over you and convincing you the monstrous cock plowing into you had definitively ruined you for anyone else. You didn’t see how you could ever be satisfied again with any other cock.

The twitch of your cunt is Yunho’s queue to finally let go as well. He pulled out of you and ripped the condom away. He only had to give it a couple of strokes before cumming all over you. Thick white ropes of burning hot cum spurting out of his slit and crashing on your heated skin. Yunho had never cum so hard, his cock is like an open tap. Squirting cum all over your stomach, your tits and some powerful spurts even reaching your pretty face, which you hurriedly lick off your lips and chin. Making Yunho’s huge cock twitch in his balled fist.

He nearly collapsed when he’s done, his legs suddenly turning into jelly. But he still managed to haphazardly wander into the bathroom to give you a clean washcloth he found and even goes back to the kitchen to get you a glass of water.

After that he blacked out next to you, completely drained (in more ways than one). You chuckled next to him when you heard him snort softly as you set your still half full drink on the nightstand and switch off the light. Naturally finding your place snuggled up against him.

***

The incessant vibrations of his phone abandoned in the pocket of his jeans was what woke up Yunho the next morning. He got off the bed half asleep and picked the device to answer the call. Because he was still in a daze he didn’t check the caller but he definitely should have when he heard Wooyoung yell at the end of the line.

“SO DID YOU GO BACK TO HER PLACE??? DID SHE SURVIVE THE DRILL?????” he shot out question after question, not taking the time to breathe between each one. Yunho shushed him right away, looking back over his shoulder at your sleeping figure.

“Shut up! she’s sleeping!” Yunho said as he struggled to turn down the volume on his phone.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” the speaker resonated even louder. “Come by to my place we’re going to brunch, you’ll tell me all about it and then I promise I’ll play all the League you want for the rest of eternity!” Wooyoung pledged as Yunho chuckled. That's exactly why he loved him.

“Brunch and then League?” Yunho heard your groggy voice from behind. “That sounds fun…”

“I’ll call you back,” Yunho briefly said before hanging on a screaming Wooyoung. He beamed at you.

“Wanna come with?”

IF U WANNA HELP ME PLEASE REBLOG WITHOUT USING THE COMMUNITY LABELS 🖤

a/n: oooffff omg that was something. i had so much fun writing this and omg i loved yunho in this he was so cute but hot ughhhhh. tell me if you liked it. that would make me so happy and i will def kiss u if do <3333

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#yunho smut #ateez smut #kpop smut #yunho fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez hard hours #yunho hard hours #ateez yunho #yunho #jeong yunho #ateez hard thoughts #yunho hard thoughts #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #ateez ff #ateez #kpop fanfic

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foldingfittedsheets · 3 months

Text

Come with me now on another story adventure.

Some types of hardship do start to feel like curses if they happen often enough. One thing I’ve experienced a lot- or at least enough to posit a curse- is my apartments flooding.

I’ve had flooding in three separate apartments I’ve lived in.

The place I lived with Betty flooded due to a massive rainstorm and poor placement on a downhill slope. Betty’s room was more effected than mine, but due to poor handling by the management it resulted in some rampant black mold and my eventual falling out with Betty as we broke the lease to escape.

My first flooding though. Happened when I lived in a third floor apartment. How, you might ask, is that possible?

Oh, Reader. Prepare yourself.

Now, I need to set the stage. Because you see, I shared this apartment with the last boy I’d ever date. For the purposes of this story let’s call him Connor. We’d known going into the relationship that I had a predilection for pussy but it finally clicked that I was just not attracted to men.

This was particularly devastating because I still loved that boy with all my heart but neither of us were getting what we needed out of the relationship. Suffice it to say, the atmosphere in the apartment in which he was sleeping on the couch was A BUMMER.

We were both sick, probably from stress, and had bad coughs. It was the night before midterms.

I was tucked up into bed, with little kitten Leeloo, ready to get to sleep. It was about 10pm. Connor knocked and poked his head into the room.

“It’s raining in the bathroom,” he said.

I got out of my comfy bed, and joined him in the bathroom. Raining was an exaggeration but there was definitely water dripping down the door jam and pooling up under the paint.

“That’s not good.”

We both stared at this problem together, sick and sad.

Finally, I suggested, “Go see if the upstairs neighbor left a faucet on. I’ll try to call maintenance.”

He left and I started making calls. At 10pm it was understandable that I was getting a lot of voicemails. Two maintenance lines deep, Connor returned.

“The people above us are getting drops too, and the place above that won’t respond.”

Four defunct numbers later, I finally got ahold of an emergency maintenance guy who was on call. “It’s raining in our bathroom.”

He was befuddled and said he’d be in soon.

That was about when it really actually started raining. Drips began pouring out of light fixtures. Terrified, we turned off the lights we could, setting out bowls and towels to mitigate water damage. Water dripped from several lights and started pooling ominously in the long flat kitchen light.

The maintenance man arrived around midnight. There was bowls and buckets littering the ground as Connor and I watched in abject misery as water filled them. The maintenance man was wildly out of his depth, having been left in sole charge while the entire rest of the staff was on vacation.

As we spoke to him, the water infiltrated our smoke alarm which began screaming in earnest at this wet invasion. The maintenance man promised to try to see what was causing the issue and fled. Connor and I regarded each other. We coughed, sick and exhausted, then went to empty the water buckets.

An hour passed. The smoke alarm persisted, it’s three shrill screeches pounded relentlessly into our ear drums. We stopped existing as individuals and became vessels of suffering. The paint in the bathroom started sloughing off the wall in wet ripples.

Connor tried to rouse the neighbor again and returned unsuccessful.

The maintenance man returned. It was 1am. He couldn’t get ahold of the apartment causing the flooding. He couldn’t get ahold of his bosses. After the update he made to leave and we begged him, please, just make the beeping stop, please. It can rain inside, and I can get no sleep the night before midterms, and I can cough miserably all night while I empty water bowls, but please, god, please, just make the beeping stop.

He promised to try and left. At some point around then, the flat kitchen light shattered under the pressure and gushed out a fall of water. Connor and I gave a bleak half hearted startle and tried to scrounge up more towels.

I started slipping into madness. The unceasing blaring beeps. The rain. The misery of being in this wretched situation with someone I used to be able to reach toward for comfort who I couldn’t anymore. This was hell, I decided. This circumstance fits into how they torture people, and I live here in this torturescape now. The maintenance man was never coming back.

The maintenance man came back with a ladder eventually.

Connor and I watched with blank hungry eyes as he fussed with the alarm and at 2am it finally ceased its shrieking klaxon of madness. I cried. The man left again. We emptied the bowls.

And finally, half an hour later, the rain began to abate. The maintenance man returned to inform us that he’d entered the upstairs unit.

Someone had become incapacitated and left their bath running. He was not at liberty to disclose what happened so presumably someone was sauced out of their gourd and fell into a deep stupor such that several hours of sustained door pounding couldn’t rouse them.

People all down the row flooded, and he looked near tears himself. We thanked him and went to collapse into bed. Neither of us took midterms the next day.

Connor and I are still friends to this day, even after a night fit to drive someone mad.

My last event of apartment flooding was a sewer main getting blocked. It was when my betrothed and I had just started dating and they were hanging out at my place while I was at work. Due to this good fortune, they were able to move my couch, entertainment system, and electronics out of the path of the flood.

It took a week and some extremely pointed emails to get the landlord to comp me rent for the week I couldn’t live there and the entire time I was just thankful I wasn’t stuck with water dripping from my lights while a fire alarm drove me to the brink of madness.

#ramblies #storytime #funny #funny story #writing #honestly just have some schadenfreude #cause it’s fucking funny now to look back on it #ffs foibles #curse #raining #flooding

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jangmi-latte · 10 months

Text

3:00 𝐏𝐌 — 「 FAILURE NOCRIOL TUL- I GENERAL 」

nsfw. gender! neutral reader.

the title is gnoomish for: failure must come to the general

"Thorn Fairy, hear my wishes. You, who are full of grace and beauty, bless upon me the patience fitting for the blessing of the night..." you mumbled in ancient fae dialect, kneeling against the dais where the statue of the thorn fairy stood.

"I hereby declare, Mr. Lilia Vanrouge..."

"Thorn Fairy, hear my wishes. You, who are full of grace and beauty, bless upon me the strength to face and defend the blessing of the night..." You grit your teeth, tightening your grip on the quartz crystal. Your breathing deepened, your eyes shut tighter as your eyebrows furrowed.

"...the duty and power to guard and protect..."

"Thorn Fairy, hear my wishes. You, who are full of grace and beauty, bless upon me the essence of what it is to be part of the blessing of the night..." You can feel your heartbeat speed up. You can feel it throughout your body, you can feel it banging against your ear drums. The quartz crystal cracked against your grip, your nails digging into your palm.

"...annointed by Her Royal Majesty, Malleficia Draconia, and Her Royal Highness, Meleanor Draconia..."

"Thorn Fairy...hear my wishes...You..." came your chants that turned into forced whispers.

"...as the General of the Land of Briar."

The quarts crystal crumbled into dust, shattering completely before you threw it to the ground and screamed. Hands slamming against the floor as fists pounded and smacked against the dais. The echoes of the ceremony that commenced not even an hour ago rang and rang in your head.

You glared up at the statue, breath heaving while you continued to thrash the flowers and gifts that surrounded the statue. Your knees collapsed with your hair tarnished as you continued to stare up at the thorn fairy. Her stoned face, those lifeless eyes of hers angled up to mock your demise. Her lips smirked down, as far as the angle could provide, at you.

Such a pathetic fae, that you are.

"I hate you, Lilia Vanrouge."

You heard the heavy wooden doors close behind you; you paid no heed, not to the fae, not to the ruined dais of the savior of faes, and definitely not to how you looked.

"The hypocrisy you really possess baffles me," he said, heels clicking against the marble floor.

Your teeth nearly cracked. The stoned dias creaked under your fingernails as you slowly panned your head over his shoulder. There he was. That fucking General.

That title was supposed to be yours. You're supposed to be the General of the Land of Briar. You're supposed to be in charge of protecting the land. You worked hard to impress the royals—

Yet, why did this foresaken man get annointed instead of you?

"Stand up," he ordered.

He is not using his position on you. Not now, not ever. You were equals before he was chosen. Fuck the hierarchy.

"I said. Stand. Up," came another order, sterner than the one before. "If you're going to let out your anger, do it to me."

And that was your final breaking point. The cockiness, the arrogance, that glint in those sharp eyes of his. It's all mockery, it's all a game. Not an ounce of care that he defeated you. What he wants, you don't know. But, what you want, he holds.

You stood up and charged at him. Fists hitting wherever it landed just as long as it's on his body. He didn't flinch, he didn't resist. He just stared. It angered you more. Your vision was nothing but black.

"I hope the war takes you," you sneered, landing a punch on his face.

"I hope you fail the princess!" A punch landed on his shoulder.

"I. Am. Supposed. To be. The General!" You screamed and landed a blow to his chest, sending him to take a step back and puff out a breath.

No damage, still no damage. It wasn't enough. No physical outlet can diminish this desire for blood; for his blood on your hands. The restraint you need to hold on yourself was too much.

"And you truly believe you deserve this position?" he laughed. Lips outstretched in a menacing grin.

"How do you think Meleanor would react when she sees what you've done to this room?" He gestured to the dais behind you.

"You can't even control yourself."

And all you saw was red.

You shoved Lilia to the wall adjacent to you and slammed your lips on his dry ones. Neither of you are fools. The man held no hesitance nor did he fight you back. In fact, he relinquished in your misery.

He devoured your lips just as feverishly as you did. Hands pulling and gripping on his now messy hair while his own hands grasped on your clothes. His tongue savoured itself in your mouth, eliciting unwanted muffled moans before he easily flipped you two with you now against the wall.

"You're better off as a decoy," he growled against your lips, grabbing your thigh and hooking it around his waist. Your hands moved down to pull on his uniform, tugging the tormenting material that refused to show an ounce of his skin.

"You're better off dead," you snapped back when he moved down to bite, bite, on the side of your neck. Your nails dug on his nape as you continued to persistently rip through his clothes, only earning a small snap as the skin-tight material on his shoulder ripped just a bit.

He snickered against your neck. Tongue darting out to lay flat against the your throat and lick from your collarbone and up to your chin. Your breaths turned to pants as you're eye-to-eye with the General. His were half-lidded and yours were wide with desire — for what, you don't entirely know.

His slammed his lips again, this time, grabbing your other thigh and lifting you until they're wrapped around his waist. Pressing his clothed cock against your crotch as he groaned into your mouth. His free hand easily ripped your own uniform from the middle, exposing your unarmed chest him and the cold air of the room.

Your nipples immediately erected upon contact and he mercilessly pinched on one making you gasp and shudder while he sucked on your bottom lip. You were shaking now; both from anger and desire. He had too much power over you. You hated it. You loathed every single bit of it. You wished, you prayed, that he just loses it to whatever lurks in the forests and never return.

"Say it."

"Fuck you," you breathed, gritting your teeth after pulling away. Finally being able to snap the buckles of his chest armor and exposing the shirt beneath it. It hugged his body too well, too damn well. Tight against his bod, translucent as far as the mind can imagine. You want it gone, you want it all dispersed.

"You need to learn to respect your leaders." Lilia gripped pressed down your nipple, his thumb circling as he leered at your nudity. "Say it."

"Like hell you're my fucking leader," you snapped. "You're nothing. You're just a bastard of a fa—" you were cut off by your own throat. A loud moan escaped your lips when he bit on your nipples. His fangs barely teasing your sensitive tits. It was a hard bite. The other breast was being fondled and squeezed by his other hand. Your don't know where to lay your hands. You don't know what to grip.

You hate being inferior.

"Say it," he moaned as he sucked on your abused nip. You shivered and tilted your head against the wall, refusing to see his ministrations. You can feel how hard his cock was against your pelvis, grinding and pressing against your crotch. Your eyes settled on the statue of the thorn fairy behind him. Her eyes looked like they moved, now laughing at your state.

And unbeknownst to you, Lilia's hand shoved itself inside your pants, cupping your sex before rubbing his fingers on your groin. You arched your hips away as much as you can, only pressing your ass against the wall with no more room to move. Your mouth hang open as you looked down and stopped the whine that dared leave your throat.

"I'm giving you one last chance." There was a singing tone to his voice. He's smirking down at you while tauntingly pressing his fingers harder, rubbing slow circles as he can feel how wet you've become. It made you wither, it made you look away from his minacious gaze.

"Fuck..." you breathed out, tightening your legs around his waist as you thrusted your hips on his fingers. Closing your eyes and feeling the pleasure build up, the heat and coil to burn hotter inside you.

Before you were dropped to the ground with a yelp leaving your mouth. You snapped your head up, looking at him in surprise with furrowed eyebrows. He laughed while he shook his head then looked down at his slick-coated fingers and grinned. Shamelessly licking it off with a pop from his lips before leaning down and wiping it on your cheek.

"Clean up before the subordinates see you looking so..." His eyes trailed down your body with no word finishing his sentence. With a hand in his pocket he turned around and started walking away.

You were left baffled, annoyed, and weak. Your eyes followed his retreating figure and once his hand landed on the doorknob, before you could even control yourself, you blurted.

Just like he said.

You can't control yourself.

"G-General Vanrouge!"

You couldn't see it, but the smirk that danced on his face was more than enough to signify his victory. To have the dais crack when your back collided with the cold stone and your legs pulled apart and laid bare against his hips.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #diasomnia x reader #twisted wonderland smut #lilia vanrouge x reader smut #twisted wonderland x reader smut #twst x reader smut #twst smut #general vanrouge #general lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst #twisted wonderland

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cleoluvrr · 6 months

Text

high school sweethearts (rafe cameron x reader) - I

these are the requirements, if you think you can be my one true love

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, dub!con, choking, domestic violence, substance abuse & addiction, controlling behavior, coercion, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, attempted suicide ,kook!reader

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rafe’s head weighed down your chest, tears soaking through your pajama shirt that left your skin feeling sticky from the salty substance. his large body was racked with sobs and while it may have made someone else feel pity for the boy, all you could feel was the uneasiness creeping up your spine.

he’d shown up randomly in the dead of night, the sound of his knock at your window leaving you filled with so much dread that you almost ignored the desperate tapping. the tall man stumbled in like a fawn, leaking blood from his flushed, teary face that left stains all over his shirt. as he came closer, the red scratch left behind from his father’s family ring was clear on his cheekbone, raised and pink from the irritation.

it was the second time that week he’d come over like this. the bruises from the last time had not even healed before being overlapped by fresh ones.

you weren’t sure why rafe and his father got into it so bad, so often; but it had taken a toll on you both mentally and physically for having to deal with the aftermath all on your own.

after nursing his injuries and having him change into a spare shirt he’d left in your room, all you could do was allow him to cry into you. it was the only thing you had the energy to do, and there were no words you had to say to him to make him feel any better than he did now.

so, here you sat with your back against the headboard, legs outstretched and weighed down by your boyfriend’s body as he buried his face into you chest to muffle the cries that he couldn’t stop from escaping. sleep was slowly creeping through your body, but you fought it off to pacify your aching lover’s pain.

“it’s okay,.” your voice was soft, the sweet sound vibrating against his ear drums. “you don’t need to cry, i’m right here.”

you continued to speak soothing words to him for what felt like an eternity before he finally began to calm down, his cries steadily reducing to erratic sniffle every few dozen seconds. your arms cradle his upper body as you gently rock side to side in both an effort to calm him and keep yourself awake.

a pair of puffy eyes stared back up at you as rafe pulled his face from its hiding spot. his face was tired, pink, and tear stained, though most of the salty fluid was thoroughly soaked into the tank top stretched across your chest that he used to cry into. you don’t complain about the less than comfortable way it sticks to your skin out of concern that it would only manage to further upset him.

“i’m sorry…” rafe’s voice was quiet and broken as he spoke, the strength of his sobs evident from the damage it left on his voice.

“don’t be. you have nothing to be sorry for.” your head shakes at him in refusal. nimble fingers graze over his face gently as you wipe away the stray tears that continued to fall.

“i didn’t mean to come over so late.” the pink of his tongue pokes out to moisten his chapped lips before it retreats. “i didn’t know what to do. i–i just really needed you, y/n.”

“i know, baby, i promise it's okay.” you look down at him with soft eyes, one that you pray display deep affection for the man and not the irritation you felt inching closer to the front. “you can come to me whenever; i always have time for you.”

it wasn’t a lie, exactly. if rafe wanted to see you then he would do it, whether you were busy or not. you had no free time, practically your entire life outside of school was dedicated to your relationship. going to a college on the mainland was completely out of the question, simply because rafe would never let it happen–he already hated the fact that you lived fifteen minutes away. you couldn’t count how many times he’d begged you to live in tannyhill with him, nor could you count how many times you’d said no. living four hours away in a different city where he couldn’t keep a constant eye on you, where you would be around thousands of guys, would never happen–in this lifetime or the next.

you had to go to a university nearby to take classes, one that was close enough to home that so wouldn’t have to leave. you rarely hung out with your friends alone because it offended your boyfriend if you spent too much time with them. ‘are they more important than i am?’ is what he would ask through gritted teeth whenever you made plans with them more than twice a week.

that’s how much rafe controlled every aspect of your life.

the last time you tried to free yourself of it, rafe promised to kill you. so you’ve learned to accept it for your own safety. even if your entire life revolved around your boyfriend, you’d rather that than having it be taken from you.

“do you want to talk about what happened?” you remained cautious in your inquiry, trying your best to be inoffensive as to prevent triggering him to anger or another crying fit. “it’s the second time this week you came over like this, baby…i’m worried.”

“my dad doesn’t think i deserve you, that’s what happened.” rafe chuckled dryly, head shaking as if he couldn’t believe his father would ever say something like that.

“what?” you brows knit together in confusion. “what do you mean?”

“my dad really likes you, y/n. more than he likes me, probably.” he releases another humorless snort. “he called me a, and i quote, ‘worthless leech of a son.’ he said that you were too good for me and that you would never stay with someone like me if you were as smart as he thought you were.”

you blinked at him as you processed the recounting of events. ward’s words towards rafe should never be uttered from a parent to their child, but he wasn't wrong.

rafe stole money from his father and misused their funds very regularly. he would spend it on drugs, alcohol, vehicles, and whatever else he felt like impulsive spending on–all the while he contributed nothing. it was something that you consistently scolded him for, especially when he would spend his father’s hard earned money on expensive gifts for you.

you would never call rafe worthless, but it would be a lie to say he’s not mooching off his father. however, every rich kid in kildare did the same thing to their parents, and his father definitely never worked to stop the behavior while he was younger.

as for you being too smart to stay with someone like rafe–you can’t say that you agree too much.

“don’t listen to him, rafe. no good father should ever say that to their child.” is what you settled on telling him instead.

“i know, what a piece of shit.” he shook his head, eyes rolling in annoyance as he retold the events of the night. you observed the faint appearance of a smirk on his face, the ghost of a smile barely visible but you couldn’t miss the slight twitch of his lips before he spoke again. “so i told him he’s just mad that my girl actually loves me, while my mom was smart enough to leave his ass.”

“rafe!”

“yeah, he didn’t like that very much.” the eyes that had lowered while he spoke flicked back up to watch yours. “he hit me with that big ass ring on and told me to leave, so i did.”

you tilted your head to the side, lip caught between the whiteness of your teeth.

what he shared was not out of the ordinary for the duo. what was out of the ordinary was the state in which rafe was in just a few minutes ago. typically he would just come over and let you dress his wounds before letting you play with his hair is silence, or listening to him call his father everything but a child of god in a rage-fueled rant.

“and why were you crying? you can’t just show up like that, rafe…you scared me.” the boy in your arms sat silently for a moment before answering.

“its just…you’re in college now. i’ve made so many plans for our future but what if….you’re not gonna leave me, right?” rafe had worry set deep into his expression as he watched you process the question, his head shaking at you. “he was wrong, you’d never do that. you’re smart enough to know better.”

you were sure he heard you gulp after speaking the last sentence. you knew what he was implying, and he was right. ward was correct in saying that you were intelligent enough to know that staying with rafe was a terrible idea, but you were also smart enough to know that rafe would do anything and everything under the sun before letting you go.

“i’m not going anywhere, baby. don’t listen to him, he just wants to get under your skin.” it nearly made you sick to say it, but what choice did you really have? “i love you so, so much, and going to school isn’t going to change that. i’ve had a plan for my life way before i met you, but that doesn’t mean i don’t wanna make you a part of it. my future is my future, but i can’t see it without you there too.”

you meant what you said. you love rafe so, very deeply, and you would do almost anything to make him happy–within reason. rafe didn’t understand reason; rationality was not his forte. any reasonable person would understand that the waters would be tested once a high school relationship became an adult relationship, but rafe was not reasonable. any normal person knows that plans change as life goes on, but rafe was not normal.

maybe you would marry him one day. you might have his kids, be his trophy wife, and live in tannyhill, happily ever after. you knew that even if you went to college on the mainland, you wouldn’t leave rafe. that you would come back to kildare every chance you got and spend every spare second with him until you had to leave again.

even when he gave you hell, you still loved him with every bone in your body.

rafe didn’t understand that, though, and that’s what led to your attempt at breaking it off with him. he degraded your lifelong goal, telling you that your relationship was more important that ‘some stupid degree’ could ever be. you supported him through everything, even when you thought it was the most idiotic thing someone could do, so his total disregard for something that you deeply cared for hurt you.

the only reason rafe even let you go to school was because he’s terrified of losing you. not only physically, but emotionally. sure, he could threaten your life to make you stay and you’d listen out of fear. what he knew, however, is that he would lose you if he took your dream away from you. his leash was tight, but it was long enough to keep you satisfied.

rafe nodded at you in approval, seemingly satisfied enough with your answer to leave it alone.

he never wanted you to go to college in the first place. it was the only thing that you put your foot down on, but if it were up to him, the two of you would be getting married by spring.

he thought it was stupid–why do you need a degree or a job? why work when rafe was there to provide for you once he took over his dad’s company? he fought you long and hard about it for months, but you wouldn’t budge. you needed a safety net–you couldn’t let him take the most important thing in life taken away from you; knowledge.

for you, knowledge was power. it was the closest thing you had to freedom. you knew that if you had a degree, it would be a safeguard in case things with rafe ever went south. deep down your boyfriend knew that, which is probably why he was so against it in the first place.

rafe knew his father was right, which is why he was in such a severe state of distress. he would never admit to that, however,

“are you just saying that because you’re scared?” your breath hitched at the sudden question and you were sure that you’d been caught.

“no! i mean it, seriously-”

“you’re smart to be scared, honestly.” he chuckled at you darkly, eyes glinting in the dim light of your bedroom. “i couldn’t live without you in my life, i love you too much. just thinking about you ever trying to leave me makes me so–so…sick. i need you more than anything. i would probably have to kill myself if you were gone, because i don’t want to live a life without you in it.”

you remained stoic.

“and i couldn’t see you with anyone that isn’t me.” he stared at you for a heavy moment after saying it. the two of you both knew what he was hinting at, a look of understanding shared amongst the silence that overtook the room.

“rafe, my love…i don’t think that’s healthy.” the words left you in a soft, inoffensive tone. setting off the unstable man was the last thing you wanted to do. “you shouldn’t say things like that, its not funny..”

he shrugged at you, pushing your arms away from him and sitting upright. your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his soft lips against yours, body melting into him instinctively. it only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away abruptly, the feeling of his soft breath mixing with yours leaving you confused.

the moment doesn’t stay on your mind any longer when he leans back in, lips meeting yours in a fervor. your skin feels flushed, face warm as the tingling feeling sets in from his skin on yours. rafe brought his hand up from its resting place on your thigh and attempts to wrap it around your neck like he usually does, but you pull it away haphazardly, hardly paying it any attention as you descend deeper into the kiss.

your own fingers reach up to play with his hair, a set of manicured nails gently scraping against the nape of his neck. you use it to pull him closer, the sound of lips smacking together filling the otherwise silent room along with your minorly labored breathing.

a warm, calloused hand slowly crawled up your side and landed on your throat once again, each finger slowly working to wrap around your neck in a firm grip. it was much tighter this time, and its grip strengthening faster than you could adjust. you reach up once more to pull it away, but he doesn’t let up.

“stop,” you pull away from him mid-kiss, your hand covering the pale one tightly wound around your neck. he doesn’t flinch at the sound of your demand, eyes low as he observes your increasingly frantic movements.

“what?” he asked.

rafe’s face was expressionless, the slight scrunch in his nose being the only giveaway of his sudden rise to anger. it was the silent rage that scared you, why you so carefully chose your words when speaking to him–because it would lead to moments like this. you weren’t even sure what you said to trigger him, but your rapidly decreasing airflow wouldn’t allow for you to think about it in depth.

“rafe, stop.” you repeat yourself. another hand reaches up to fight against his, nails scratching at the skin as they try to pull him off. the feeling had long passed being uncomfortable, and was encroaching on unbearable. “what’re you doing?”

“what's wrong, baby…can’t breathe?” your boyfriend’s eyes furrowed with a look of faux concern, but you felt him stop holding back. he allowed the full weight of his strength onto you, biceps flexing as the tips of his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your throat. “huh?”

unable to answer verbally, you hummed quietly as you desperately tugged at him. despite your incessant squirming, that doesn’t deter him from returning his lips to yours. the kiss was sloppy, you were too focused on fighting for what little breath you had to return it fully, but rafe didn’t seem to care.

he suckled at your bottom lip before nipping it with the sharpness of his teeth. he laved his tongue against yours, all but fucking your mouth the wet muscle. the sound of his soft, dark laughter reached your ears after he heard you whine against him. you were beginning to become lightheaded the longer rafe’s hand compressed your trachea mercilessly.

he was allowing just enough room for you to not pass out from lack of air, but the finger against your jugular veins was preventing oxygen from reaching your brain.

leaving you with a few sporadic, wet pecks, he pulled away only slightly to observe your less than lively state. his lips were glistening with moisture, and you could feel spit dribbling down your own chin from your inability to swallow the saliva that had been gathering in your mouth. the blond’s face went stoic again and pulled you back to him, lips just barely brushing against yours.

“you see how i just had your life in my hands? how scared you felt knowing that i could’ve just crushed your throat if i wanted to?” the grip over your neck had finally loosened and you did your best to not pant against his face as your breathing steadied itself.

you remained silent but rafe watched you expectantly, clearly awaiting an actual response and not the stupid, wide-eyed expression you carried. you nodded at him weakly, stray tears sliding down your face as you blinked your eyes clear of them.

“i’m not joking.” he whispered against your parted lips, eyes low and jaw clenching for just a second before speaking again. “i will fuck you up, and i mean that.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #obx1 #obx2 #obx3 #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #cleoluvrr fics

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR EIGHT

in which graves are dug up, walls are built, and nobody knows what happened in the bathroom that night.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4.6k+

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

8:00 ────ㅇ────────────── 24:00

DINGUS: hey, do you guys remember the first night they met?

BIRDIE: you mean when we took her to the bar to meet everyone and they very clearly fell in love at first sight? no, doesn’t ring a bell.

DINGUS: stop being such a fucking smart ass

NANCE: @DINGUS What about it?

DINGUS: she just called me asking me about it. said eddie was nice until you guys went to the bathroom. apparently he acted differently when you guys came back, but i can’t remember anything about what was said?? did eddie actually start acting differently???

BIRDIE: i remember that! thought it was weird or eddie just started overthinking? i dunno. i was in the bathroom obviously.

ARGYLE 😎: oh i remember that night very clearly brochacho

ARGYLE 😎: kind of surprised you don’t, dude

JOHNNY: Oh God yeah @DINGUS you’re living up to your namesake dude

NANCE: You really don’t remember, do you?

DINGUS: @NANCE and how the fuck do YOU remember? you weren’t even there, nance. you were in the bathroom as robs put it.

NANCE: Best friend privileges. You really might want to remember, Dingus.

BIRDIE: @NANCE message me real quick?

DINGUS: hey! no fucking whispering! that’s not fucking helpful! @JOHNNY @ARGYLE 😎 what did i say?

NANCE: @BIRDIE I will. Let me call Eddie first.

—

HOUR EIGHT - 11:00 PM

You weren’t trying to eavesdrop - you were trying to sleep. If anyone asked you, you could have honestly defended yourself. The couch was uncomfortable, your back aching as you repeatedly twisted back and forth to just try and find a minute of rest. Your mind was reeling, still replaying all of your moments with Eddie leading up to this night. Suddenly, you were overthinking it all. You couldn’t differentiate between things that really happened, or things that you’d simply blown out of proportion due to your innate need to spin the narrative of Eddie being the villain.

“Yeah, I… I think she’s sleeping.”

You hadn’t even heard Eddie opening his door finally, your back facing the hallway as you stayed curled up tightly. His footsteps are heavy as he gets closer to you.

“She’s… uh, she’s on the couch.”

Immediately, you can hear a shrill voice shouting over the line. It’s hard to miss. You can imagine the way he’s wincing, holding the phone out from his ear in an attempt to not let her scolding damage his ear drums.

“I didn’t think she went to bed!” he hisses, trying to stay quiet, under the impression you’re still asleep, “I- Jesus H. Christ, Nance! Calm down, calm do-” he’s cut off as the anger over the line still leaks into the calm air of the room, “No. No, I wasn’t- I was going to let- Nance. Please, can I get a fucking word in?”

You hold your breath during his pause, and the clear scolding, Nancy’s scolding, finally ceases.

“I wasn’t going to let her sleep on the couch,” he says slowly. You almost turn over, almost face him and show him you’re very much awake and not sleeping. “I didn’t think she’d go to bed while I was in there. I thought… I thought- Jesus, I thought at worst, she’d snoop through my shit. Maybe go for a walk or something. I didn’t- I just… Fuck, I needed space. It’s just been a long night.”

Nancy’s voice is no longer audible, but it’s clear he’s listening to what she has to say. You’re nearly overcome with guilt; you’ve done plenty of things wrong, but to eavesdrop on a private conversation? It might be your worst crime against Eddie yet.

Suddenly, he says, “It’s just been a lot.”

Something in his tone has changed. It’s gone soft, whispering from his lips in sudden muted blue. It’s a type of sadness you can’t quite place – it’s the kind of mourning you’d seen in his eyes in the photo.

Nancy must say something, because he hums in response. It’s obviously not good enough of an answer for Nancy over the phone, because her voice grows back to audible levels, less shrill, more stern.

Eddie answers with words this time. “I… I think I do.”

He thinks he does what?

“I do. I really fuckin’ do.”

He’s more sure in his answer the second time around to the unknown question. The guilt grows. Inflating, turbulating, ready to crack your ribs. The vines are no longer there to hold you together.

You’re put out of your misery when Eddie murmurs out a bye, Nance and you can hear his phone snap shut. If it were just a mere few hours ago, one hour ago, you would have made a comment about it - you would have joked again about what year it was, how maybe the two of you should get to sleep so first thing in the morning, you could drag him down to the Apple store to get a normal phone like the rest of you. But you’re not a time traveler, and Eddie is still an ocean away from you.

And you’re not a strong swimmer. The water’s were rocky, were vicious, and if you dared to try and backstroke to his side of the water, you’d surely drown. He had to come to you.

You’re praying he comes to you. Eyes tightly screwed shut, still resembling a ball on his old couch.

Please reach out for me, your mind screams, please wake me up. Please tell me to come back to bed with you. Please tell me we can forget all the words said in the kitchen. Please, please, please.

You don’t know where the pleading comes from. But whatever gods and goddesses may exist, whatever higher power in the Universe that would normally ignore you, hears out your silent pleas.

His hand is warm when he first grabs your shoulder.

It’s not rough, surprisingly gentle as fingertips press into your clothed skin and the first shake comes. It’s hardly enough to rouse a truly sleeping person. And Eddie realizes this as the second shake is a bit more firm, moving you a little more with a soft whisper of, “Hey, wake up.”

The command isn’t as harsh as you’re used to from him. It’s crushed velvet, smoothing over your skin like the blanket you’d previously pondered for, making the guilt begin to deflate. A slow release of air and the accompanying feelings of dishonesty and disloyalty leaves your chest weathered when his next whisper comes not only louder, but closer.

“C’mon, you’ve gotta get up,” he insists, but all you care about is his cologne. He never changed it from that first night. Always something warm, always something spiced. And you hate it, because it’s still the feeling of coming home from a long week, “You’re not sleeping on the couch. I’ll carry you if I have to.”

That makes your sleeping facade crack. Your lips betray you - one twitch, and Eddie knows you’re awake, pressing you to roll onto your back.

“I know you’re awake now. Let’s go,” you can hear the dimples in his tone. You can picture the lazy smile, the shining eyes. With your eyes closed, you can pretend you never had to meet mean Eddie. When you’re not looking at him, it’s almost as if the man you initially met still exists, to have and to hold, to make inside jokes with as you let the scenery around the two of you fade to black.

You crack your eyes back open to find him looking down at you just as you’d expected, but not nearly with as much mischief or mirth as you had craved.

The Eddie you first met is gone. He’s not coming back, and you can’t live with your eyes closed. Hell, maybe he had drowned in that ocean between you two as well.

Maybe if you took the leap, just attempted to take on the waves, you’d meet him somewhere at the bottom of it all.

“I thought you said you’d carry me?” you tease.

His hand. His hand is still on your shoulder, and his palm is still searing you. You couldn’t pull away from its burn if you tried.

“I’d carry you if I had to,” he corrects, “You’re awake, therefore, I don’t have to.”

“I don’t know. I think my legs may be broken.”

Eddie says your name firmly. It takes you off guard, momentarily distracts you from the way he squeezes your shoulder, “Let’s go before I change my mind and leave you out here.”

You decide against putting up any further fight. You’re just happy he’s talking to you again. How odd and peculiar that feeling is.

You rise from the couch and take him in. He’s no longer in his jeans, having traded out his earlier day clothes for something more comfortable. A pair of comfortable grey sweatpants, one or two sizes too big with the drawn string pulled to its limit and tied into a knot. He’s wearing a faded band shirt, loved in every way possible: it’s been cut along the bottom to shorten it in length, several holes torn along the torso and in the neck hole, the once black fabric now a stormy shade of grey far darker than the sweatpants. There’s a logo across the chest, peeling away at the edges.

“Deftones?” you ask, squinting to make out the words written amongst the logo, “What is that? A band?”

He chuckles, almost in disbelief, before he realizes you’re serious, “Wait, you’ve really never heard of them?”

You shake your head, “No, are they any good?”

You’re still making no move to stand, Eddie towering over you as you tilt back to meet his gaze. The disbelief is morphing, ever changing, pulling in and out of his features like the sea against sand. Like the waves of his self-imposed ocean that taunts you. You only dig your toes into the sand, you only stand at a far enough distance to not get your feet wet yet. You’re not ready to dive in. You’re not brave enough yet.

His chuckle this time isn’t in disbelief.

“Yeah, yeah. They’re great. I can show you them later, if you just come to bed.”

The game of teasing and begging is over, and you refuse to push your luck. He’s talking to you. Normally. You finally stand and shrug off that hand on your shoulder, finally trying to get your wits and not glance down at the waistband of his boxers.

“Okay, lead the way,” you gesture before spinning your upper body around with your feet planted in place, a soft crack coming from your back.

There’s no words exchanged in that brief walk to the bedroom; there’s nothing else to really say. The fight happened, Eddie locked you out, you’re both having to start from square one. The ocean still calls to you, and there’s nothing you can change about it.

His room is the same as it was hours ago, when you’d locked yourself into it. A little messy, a little boyish, but comforting all the same.

“A couple ground rules,” he finally breaks the silence. Oh, this oughta be good. “One, no more looking through my shit for…. Uh, magazines.”

“Trust me,” you hold up a hand in defeat, “Learned my lesson the first time. You can keep your gross Playboys.”

His brows wrinkle in minute irritation, “Gross? They’re not gro- You know what? Whatever. Yeah. Stay away from my gross playboys. Second rule, I have enough pillows we can make a… wall, I guess?”

You have to bite back your amusement, you have to remind yourself of the roar of an ocean. Maybe if you taste the salt on your lips again, you’ll remember that this is all temporary.

“Sounds good to me,” you agree.

“Obviously that means staying on your side of the bed. And it’s not a big bed, obviously, so-”

“What side of the bed do you prefer?”

“Excuse me?”

He’s dumbfounded despite the question not being a hard one. “The bed – which side do you prefer?”

“I, uh, I-” he brings a hand up to the back of his neck, a nervous habit as he rubs his curls that are matted at the nape, “The left, I guess? Or I mean, if we’re looking down at it, it’d be the right, but…” he waves his hand in the general direction of the side he’s referring to, the one closest to the wall, “You know.”

A nervous Eddie is a sight to behold. The fidgeting, the flush of his neck and cheeks, the stuttering sentences. He’s nervous about sharing a bed with you.

“Perfect,” you offer a smile, although you don’t think it does much for him considering he’s looking down at the ground in bashfulness, “I prefer the right side. I just refer to them by left or right when you’re laying down, by the way.”

You don’t have to add that tidbit – you don’t need to reassure him that your mind works in the same way as his in the slightest. But you do, and the red of his cheeks lightens.

“Cool,” he murmurs.

“Cool,” you echo.

The awkwardness can be afforded as the two of you straighten out the comforter, not needing to focus on shaking hands or fluttering chests as Eddie climbs in first and begins to rearrange his spare pillows as a barrier. His sweatpants slip down a bit lower as he does this, and you catch sight of the band of his boxers.

The band of his boxers pressing into the jut of his hips. The streak of alabaster, soft and unmarked unlike his arms, and the coarse patch of hair that interrupts the center of it all.

“Have you ever considered getting hip tattoos?” you blurt out, and immediately, you both freeze.

You really need to learn to think before you speak.

“Uh… what?” Eddie chuckles nervously, presenting an opportunity to redeem yourself.

He didn’t even have to catch you staring. You’d outed yourself.

And yet, you choose to double down, to take the embarrassment in stride as if it doesn’t phase you, “Hip tattoos. Have you ever thought about getting some? I think they’d be pretty sick.”

Your self-destruction pays off when Eddie smiles up genuinely at you. Sugar coated sweetness, a bit of authentic amusement.

“You’re right. They would be pretty sick.”

He should have mocked you for staring at his hips. He should have taken the opportunity to embarrass you and run, but the tides are shifting between you two, and you keep taking two steps closer to his ocean. The sand only grows colder and colder the closer you get to the edge, and it has your mind reaming with the possibility of what it would feel like to recklessly dive in.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to need you to say that again, this time into the microphone,” you make a fist, an invisible microphone in your grasp as you thrust it out towards Eddie.

He laughs. He laughs, and its reverb travels through the caverns of your chest. Suddenly, you’re sipping a watered down Amaretto Sour and his breath smells of Jack & Coke, and the lowlights of the room have become treacherous bar lighting as you lean into his shoulder, sitting side by side on bar stools.

The echoes still carry as he swats away your hand, eyes squinted with the mirth you’d be seeking out since he ‘woke’ you up, “Jesus Christ, you’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, a funny idiot.”

“Oh, now you’re just pushing it too far.”

“Too far? I don’t think I’ve gone far enough.”

Why don’t we ever hang out? Why don’t we ever banter like this when out with the others?

It’s so easy, easy to continue to giggle as you turn out the bedroom light before crawling into bed with him, feeling his warmth radiating even through the pillows between the two of you. Pillows, oceans – they all have started to feel the same.

Once the two of you have settled, you on your side and Eddie on his back, a nicer sort of silence blankets you. It’s almost as soft as his voice when he woke you, almost the same type of crushed velvet if you don’t reach out to it. But if you were to touch it, brush your fingertips over the material with intention and inhibition, you’d find the roughness. Roughness that mimics sand amongst an ocean’s waves, a roughness that says there’s more to be spoken about.

“The bed’s nicer than the couch,” you speak out loud rhetorically, not necessarily to him, but to the coarseness. To the sand and to the fake velvet, “More comfortable.”

“I know,” he answers to fill the space. I know, meaning he’s slept on his couch.

It makes sense. It’s his couch. But your mind runs rampant with the scenarios. Did he discover this through afternoon naps after hard shifts? Or maybe after one too many night outs that ended in collapsing face first into the cushions because he was too drunk to make it to his bedroom?

You jump when he sits up suddenly, “Fuck.”

“What’s your problem?” you twist from your position of your back facing him, squinting into the darkness.

“The photo.”

“What photo?”

“Photo evidence, you idiot! We have to send a photo to those fuckers.”

You had nearly forgotten that this is what this is; your friends and a bet are the pushing force behind this all. It’s not fate, it’s not the moon bringing two tides together. You didn’t happen upon his beach because you two decided to give this, whatever this was, a fighting chance.

You sit up next to him, crinkling your nose, “My phone’s in the living room, I think.”

“I can go get it.”

An offer of chivalry you didn’t even have to ask for.

Same as him sharing the bed. Same as him paying for your meal when you forget your wallet, or catching you when you trip up steps outside a bar. You really wish the list would stop growing.

He’s shuffling out of the bed, down the line of pillows and off the end of it, before you can even protest. You didn’t even tell him where the godforsaken phone might be besides that it’s in the living room. That doesn’t stop him.

It feels like an eternity, but is probably no more than a full minute, before he’s returning back to the room. He’s looking down at the phone, your screen lit up and basking his face in the only light in the room.

“What is it?” you can only assume the chat is messaging for a photo, by the scrunch of his brows and the small part of his lips.

“Nothing.”

That was the first thing that made your stomach drop.

The second comes when he returns to the bed, fighting his way up into his original position, handing the phone over to you as you glance at the notifications.

A notification from Steve. A private message, not sent in the groupchat.

STEVE-O: i’m sorry, i really don’t know what happened that night. the others won’t tell me either so they’re kind of useless. whatever it was, i don’t think it was you, though, honey.

Honey. Mother fucking Steve Harrington, and his need to use nicknames.

“All good?” Eddie asks, as if he didn’t just have access to this message, as if he doesn’t know what Steve’s said. You don’t know why the thought of Eddie seeing Steve’s careless nickname throws you over the edge. You just assume he’ll take it out of context, that he’ll spin it as a weapon against you.

“Fine,” you curtly reply, opening your phone and ignoring the message, going straight to the group chat and opening your camera. Your heart is still racing in terrible inconvenience as you glance over your shoulder at him, “How do we wanna take it this time?”

“I don’t know about you, but I personally just love to take it laying down-”

“Are you trying to make a sexual innuendo right now? Because if so, stop. It’s terrible.”

More giggles, more chuckles, more taunting waves of a daunting ocean that is scaring you less and less. Maybe the jump is worth it. Maybe the initial chill will break and show you warmth. Maybe it would never be cold to begin with.

At least he’s teasing you, which is a good sign. You lay down in the same position as earlier, this time Eddie propping himself up to peek over the wall of pillows so his face is in the picture.

It’s too dark to really see your faces very clearly. You can still make them out, to be fair, but it’s hard. You have to strain your eyes quite a bit to make out the mess of your hair and the indents of Eddie’s dimples.

Eddie’s dimples. His dimples. Oh God, he’s smiling.

“Turn on the flash,” he reaches over, invades your space with boy and spice and nostalgia to tap on the screen himself and do as he had just requested.

“What was the point of telling me to do it, if you were just going to do it yourself,” you grumble, trying to yank the phone out of his reach. He only leans further, pressing into the boundary of pillows, his collarbone knocking against the back of your shoulder.

Warmth. So, so much warmth. It occurs to you that it’s not just the smell of his cologne that feels like a long week’s homecoming; his touch and presence can manage to do the same, when he’s not being a pest of course.

“Shut up and take the photo,” he bickers before giving up and settling back into his pose. He even adds to it, throwing up a peace sign with the hand not holding him up.

You can’t help but tease him for it, mimicking the motion with your own hand and failing at holding back your tittering. When you tap the button to take the photo, the screen flashes white and you both immediately groan before rubbing your eyes.

“Fuck.”

“Wow, bright idea.”

“Was that a pun?” Eddie stops mid eye rub, side-eyeing you, “Fuck off. That was a terrible pun.”

“I never said my puns were good!” you try to defend yourself, blinking to bring relief to your scorned irises and focus on the photo of the two of you, “I said my jokes were good.”

“Puns are jokes.”

You completely ignore him, and instead sigh deeply when you see the photo, “We need to retake it. No flash, this time. They can adjust brightness on their own time.”

The photo is terrible, truly. The photo captures the moment somewhere between your enjoyment of copying Eddie and the pain the two of you had brought upon yourselves. Squinty eyes, coiled lips. Two peace signs of two drastically differently sized hands.

Don’t you dare, you scorn your mind at that trail of thought, don’t even start that comparison.

“Why?” Eddie protests, once again beginning to lean over and take a closer look at your phone, chest brushing your shoulder again, “Oh, c’mon, it’s fine – just send it so we can sleep before they bother us again.”

You just shake your head, already reopening the camera app and being sure to adjust the settings. No blinding this photo.

“Say cheese, pretty boy.”

It’s not until you’ve tapped to take the photo that you both realize what you’ve said.

Pretty boy.

Eddie is leaning in still, just as he is in the photo you’ve taken, and both of you look far too happy to be sharing a bed. The words – the nickname, the compliment – are still formed on your lips in it. If the flash was on again, you’d see the blush of his reaction.

Neither comment on it. You won’t lean into your embarrassment for a second time tonight, and Eddie isn’t in the business of teasing you cruelly anymore, it seems.

You can hear him swallow hard before he asks, “Is that one good?”

“Fine,” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Um, yeah, it’s good. I sent it.”

“Okay, good.”

“Good.”

The awkwardness is stifling. Heavy and drowning and goddamn stifling.

You toss your phone far too quickly onto his nightstand, wishing the bed would swallow you whole.

If you two were friends, it would have been mindless teasing. The same as when Steve calls you honey, or Robin rambles about how hot you look on a night out. But you two aren’t friends.

You two aren’t friends because of some mysterious change that occurred in Eddie while you went to the bathroom. You haven’t forgotten the burning question, and the longer you two lay there, the more you let it consume you rather than regret.

“Hey, Eddie? Can I ask you a question?”

He’s laying flat on his back as he answers you, hands nervously wringing on his stomach, “You just did, but sure.”

It should be a good thing. He’s still teasing you, it’s still a good thing. But all your questions die in your throat.

What happened when I went into the bathroom that first night?

Why did you turn so cold towards me?

Was it my fault?

Why aren’t we friends?

The last one doesn’t go down without a fight. It reverberates and battles you, it tries to pull you into the ocean head first.

Why aren’t we friends?

“Do you still drive a motorcycle?”

That sure was a funny way of asking what you needed to.

He’s quiet for a moment, clearly puzzled by your random question, but nevertheless he says, “Yeah. Why?”

“No reason.”

You’re picturing him stalking away from you again, without so much as a goodbye, straddling the bike and tucking his head away into the motorcycle. The last glimpse you’d ever had of everything he could have been to you. It’s enough to make your eyes water, your bones shake, your toes curl into coarse sand until they bleed.

The next time you hear his voice, he’s whispering your name. You don’t respond, and so he tries it again, saying it a bit louder this time.

“I know you’re not asleep. No one can fall asleep that quickly.”

“I can,” you snap, still choking on his waves and personal mourning, a yearning you need to find the grave of once more to bury – for good this time.

“Clearly, you can’t,” he shuffles, but you don’t check to see if he’s sitting up. (He’s not, he feels like his back is glued to the bed). His voice is back to crushed velvet and kindness, vulnerability and softness, a sort of home you can never return to, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

That piques your interest. You turn, laying on your back and looking at the same ceiling as him in that moment, “For what? Earlier in the kitchen? Or at the bar?” you feel his flinch, and are quick to add, “Because consider it water under the bridge, okay? You’re forgive-”

“I mean for everything. I’m sorry for… everything.”

Everything. Ten letters, four syllables. It means a whole lot more than it should be capable of.

“Everything?” your voice is hardly audible as you turn to look at him. He’s half hidden by the wall put between the two of you. But if you squint, if you adjusted the brightness, you wonder if you’d see his eyes shining with the same remorse yours burn with. You wonder if you’d see the dirt caked under his nails from also digging up graves he shouldn’t have tonight.

“Everything.”

Ten letters, four syllables, one leap of faith. The ocean isn’t as cold as you’d thought it would be.

—

BIRDIE is typing…

DINGUS: i swear to god rob. if you’re not about to tell me what the fuck i did that night, you better lock your phone and just go to bed.

BIRDIE stops typing.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

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#twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #i gotta stop with the metaphors lol #i know it would notify them that robin stops typing but i think it'd be so funny to watch her lil bubble of dots disappear #robin was ready to scream about them sharing a bed

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norrizzandpia · 9 months

Text

London Boy (LN4)

Summary: In which she falls in love with a London boy as an American girl

Warnings: mentions of family trauma, but it’s really light, FLUFFFFFFFFFFF

Note: I promise I will stop doing song imagines. I already have a regular imagine in the works, THIS ONE WAS JUST TOO GOOD TO PASS UP 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Word Count: 4,377

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal and you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee Whiskey, but something happened. I heard him laughing. I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent.

When Y/n had been invited to the British Grand Prix, she was as excited as she could be. She wasn’t really educated when it came to F1, seeing as she had only heard of it twice in all her life. Nonetheless, it was a girls trip with her best friends, Paige and Lily, so she was eager to go anyway.

However, as she stood in the middle of the Paddock with coffee down her shirt and jeans, her views on the sport turned sour. The moment had transpired in seconds as she hurriedly walked down the street with her friends to get to their suite. She had heard a group of men laughing, one of the laughs standing out as more of a cackle, before her shoulder was crashing into another’s and hot liquid was seeping into her clothes.

“Shit!” The clothes clung to her, burning her body completely. Her eyes snapped up to be met with the chin of a man wearing orange, her gaze moving up to be met with dimples that were disappearing rapidly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” His British accent bled into his voice as he frantically gave her a once over, assessing for damage.

She would have been more mad if she hadn’t found him so attractive. His tan skin and muscular body only lessened the fuel in her fire as she listened to his charming british accent.

“I can pay for the clothes.” He said once more, sounding as if he was trying to grab her attention.

Her eyes met his, “Um, no, it’s okay.” She pulled at the clothes, shifting uncomfortably under the still scalding temperature.

“Here, my teammate’s girlfriend probably has something you can change into. I can take you to her if that works?” He asked timidly, gesturing around like she was near.

Y/n tilted her head, “Your teammate?”

She really had no knowledge of the sport. She assumed each brand had one driver because, in her mind, why would they need more?

The man chuckled as her American accent dawned on him and he realized she had no clue who he was, “Yeah, you can bring your friends if you want?” He tried once more, looking behind her.

The girl glanced over her shoulder, her friends’ mouths gaping open as they quickly nodded their heads for them to go with him, “Okay, that works.”

—

Lily held up a pair of blue jeans and a black bodycon shirt with a smile, “Try these on?”

Y/n smiled timidly, her friends were seemingly freaking out over the people in the room, but she didn’t understand why, “Thank you.”

Thankfully, the clothes fit her well, hugging her waist and doing wonders for the curves of her body. Stepping out of the bathroom and back into the room, she found Paige, Lily, and Teammate’s Lily as well as the man she had come to know, Lando.

“Better?” He asked as he walked up to her with an apologetic smile.

She returned it, “Yeah, a lot.”

They continued looking at each other for a few moments before Paige was clearing her throat and the two were separating. As the three girls grouped together, moving out of the room and toward the exit, Lando’s loud voice flooded their ear drums.

“Y/n! Wait!” His accent yelled as he ran over to them. Catching his breath with his phone in hand, he looked at Y/n with a toothy grin, “Let me take you out to dinner as an apology?”

The two girls beside her gasped as she nodded and put her number in his phone.

–

They say home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives. Ya know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon. He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you.

If you had told the y/h/c haired girl that day on the Paddock that the man who had spilled caffeine on her was successful and talented Lando Norris, driver for Mclaren, she would have laughed in your face. After multiple dates together and Lando feeling guilty at her still clueless self, he informed her of his rather rare occupation. She had been taken aback, not seeing him as some famous celebrity who had girls falling at his feet. He was so down to Earth and nice, even when she knew, she didn’t believe it.

It was around 5 months into the relationship when he asked her to come visit him on his vacation to London, telling her he wanted to show her around his hometown. Over the phone, she had asked him if this was his way of asking her to meet his family and she could hear the shy smile in his voice as he said, “What would you say if I said ‘yes’?”

With a smile on her face, she had excitedly told him to tell her when and she’d be there. Bags in hand at 4 AM, she had said goodbye to her best friends and assured them she would call every night over the next 2 weeks to fill them in on her “whirlwind romance with a celeb”. Their words, not hers.

To say she was giddy when her eyes met him from across Heathrow was an understatement. The way his glasses, baseball cap, and face mask failed to hide his smiling face and ecstatic demeanor warmed her heart. Instead of running over to him like she knew the both of them wanted, she walked cooly in his direction, not wanting to draw any attention to him and the relationship they were trying to keep under wraps. Upon reaching him, his arms wrapped around her middle, his face burying in her neck and inhaling the scent he had missed so much, as the two whispered words of longing and love in the other’s ear.

When he pulled back and his eyes landed on her smile, he tilted his head and gazed at the feature on her face he had grown to adore so much.

“Lando,” She giggled as her eyes clocked the way he lingered on her beam. His name on her lips forced him to move his eyes up, meeting hers and sparkling as they took the quiet moment for themselves.

Shining with adoration and yearning, his eyes said way more than he let on, “I missed you, my love.”

—

Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates, so I guess all the rumors are true. Ya know I love a London boy, boy, I fancy you.

“What if they don’t like me? Don’t Europeans, like, hate Americans?” Y/n asked as she clutched onto Lando’s arm, sticking to his side as they grew closer to the restaurant.

He laughed from beside her, but quieted down when he saw the genuine concern on her face. Stopping and taking her face in his hands, he pecked her lips, “Baby, they will love you. Trust me. Just because you’re American doesn’t mean they’ll think you’re annoying before they even meet you.”

Sighing and shrugging off his hold in frustration, she began walking toward their destination, “Do you guys really think people from America are annoying?”

He jogged to catch up with her before taking her hand in his and kissing the knuckles of it, “A lot of them are not as pleasant as you.”

Stepping into the pub, Y/n inched closer to his side, suddenly being hit with double her original amount of nerves. Thankfully, Lando’s arm slid around her shoulders as he steered her toward the back of the establishment. A booth filled with whispering 20-something adults came into view before Lando was pulling her to stand in front of everyone, on full display, something he liked and she didn’t.

“Guys, this is Y/n, my girlfriend.” He smiled as his voice grabbed the attention of what Y/n could only determine were his best friends.

A chorus of “Nice to meet you!” and “We’ve heard so much about you” graced the couple’s ears. Lando ushered for her to scooch into the empty seats saved just for them.

Once settled, the questions began.

Max was the first to jump in, wanting to get to know the girl his best friend hadn’t shut up about for the past few months, “So, are you in uni?”

Her face scrunched up in confusion, “Uni?”

Lando chuckled from beside her and in his best American accent said, “College, baby.”

She laughed at her own stupidity, “Oh, yeah. I forgot you guys call it uni.”

Max shook his head with a smile, “No problem.”

“But, anyway, yes, I am in college.” She smiled and nodded as Lando’s friends hung onto her every word, something he was sure would happen.

“Oh, cool, what are you studying?” Ria entered the conversation, leaning over the table to greet the, now, only other girl in the group.

“Psychology. I want to become a therapist.” Y/n’s face lit up at the mention of her passion and Lando gazed upon her like she had just told him he would be World Champion next year.

The table’s eyes bulged, “Don’t you have to go through a lot of schooling for that?” Maz inquired.

“Yeah! But, it’s okay. I’ve always liked learning.” She smiled back.

Max’s jaw dropped as he laughed and let out a breath, “How are you putting up with his stupid ass then?”

The group, including Y/n and Lando, threw their heads back in laughter as Lando tried to act annoyed, “Mate, don’t scare her away just yet.”

She put her hand on his bicep and rubbed softly, “Lan, if I was scared, I would have been gone already.”

He kissed her cheek quickly with blushing cheeks as Ria, Aarav, and Niran observed a lovesick Lando. Leaning over Aarav spoke to both Ria and Niran, “Why does he look happy?”

Niran giggled as Ria rolled her eyes, “Because he’s in love, dumbass.”

From across the table, Y/n tried to partake in a conversation between Lando, Max, and Steve, but the moment Ria’s comment met Y/n’s ears, she was done for.

Looking at the man who was crowding her space to hear his friends better, she wondered if he did, in fact, love her the way she loved him.

—

Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride, “Babes, don’t threaten me with a good time”. They say home is where the heart is, but God, I love the English.

Throwing themselves into the cab, Lando and Y/n breathed out a sigh of relief. Glancing out the window and being met with the aggressive downpour that was overwhelming London, Y/n listened to her boyfriend rattle off his address to the driver.

Sitting back, he let his head fall on the seat behind him as it lulled to the side, capturing his girlfriend’s unexplainable beauty.

He smiled before tugging on her hand, making her turn her attention away from the water droplets and to the man who was as soaked, if not more, then she was, “How long do you think it will take us to get back?”

He glanced outside, “The traffic’s really bad…” He trailed off as he wondered, “Probably around 20 minutes?”

“Mmm,” She leaned into his side, not at all caring for the way his drenched clothes stuck to her own.

His head fell on top of hers as they breathed together for a moment. His mind wandered to that morning and how he had been woken up by Max calling him.

–

Lando had shut off the ringer the second it blared loudly and thankfully, he hadn’t disturbed your sleeping form as he got out of the warm, soft cocoon to answer.

“Hello? Why are you calling me so early?” His groggy voice greeted his best friend on the other end of the line as he shut the door to the bedroom and walked out to the kitchen.

Max laughed, “Mate! It’s literally 12 PM. What were you up to last night?” His suggestive tone had Lando’s mind flashing back to the rather intimate activities that had taken place hours before.

“None of your business,” He bit out, “What do you need?”

“No need to get so hostile on me.” Max said innocently, “Just wanted to ask you if you’ve told Y/n you love her yet?”

Lando choked out a breath before clearing his throat, “I’m sorry- what?”

“Have you guys said that yet?” Max repeated, not understanding why his friend sounded so confused.

While he wanted to deny his love for her, Lando knew he couldn’t, he never could, “No.”

“Well, you should tell her.” Max stated firmly.

Lando’s voice fell quiet, “But, what if she isn’t there yet?”

Max loudly laughed, “Oh, man! It’s crazy how you bagged someone intelligent.” Lando cringed as Max continued, “She clearly feels the same way.”

Lando’s heart soared, “You think?”

HIs best friend sighed, “Yes, I do. So does Ria, and Niran, and Steve, and Aarav. It’s really obvious, dude.”

Lando’s smile hurt, “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Max chuckled, “I know. That’s why I called you.”

—

His brain thought over the possibility of telling her about his growing feelings as he felt her weight against his side in the back of the dirty cab. It was almost as if she heard his thoughts as she moved her head off his shoulder to stare up at him, silently begging him to say it.

Whether it was in his head or not, he fulfilled the wish he was convinced she was pleading with him to make reality, “I love you.” He whispered.

Their faces inches apart, Lando watched as Y/n’s face gleamed and her smile grew, “I love you too.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief when she moved to kiss him. His hands in her hair and no regard for the driver in front of them, he kissed her like he was crazily, stupidly, and wholly in love with her.

Because he was.

—

Just wanna be with you, wanna be with you, wanna be with you. You know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking’ SoHo, drinking in the afternoon. He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you. Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates, so I guess all the rumors are true.

“Darling, are you ready?” Lando’s voice flooded through his apartment.

As he rounded the corner of the hallway, she was popping out of the bedroom clad in jeans and a sweater, prepared for the crisp and cold London air. Catching his gaze, she jokingly twirled around as she muttered, “This good to meet your family?”

Closing the space between them and wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her forehead, “Perfect. You look perfect, baby.”

With crimson red cheeks, the two of them left his building and made their way to his parent’s house minutes away.

“For some reason, I’m not as nervous to meet them as I was to meet your friends.” Her eyebrows contorted as they walked down the sidewalk.

“Maybe that’s because I’m their son and you love me. Ya know, the whole ‘Apple doesn’t fall far from the tre-’” He was interrupted by two giggling girls stopping to stand directly in front of them.

One of them gently shoved her phone in between them, “Can we take a picture?”

Y/n watched as Lando’s eyes softened before he was grabbing her phone and lightly turning her way to ask her to take it. Shaking her head with a smile, she grabbed it and positioned them in the frame, “Okay, 1…2…3,” She mumbled before taking multiple and handing it back to the girls that couldn’t be over 16, “I took a couple.”

Nodding, the other one’s eyes drifted between Lando and Y/n before cocking her head to the side.

“Wait, were those dating rumors true? Is this your girlfriend?” Her eyes grew wide in realization as Lando blushed and pulled Y/n into him.

Glancing down at her y/e/c eyes, he nodded, “Yeah, this is her.”

Gasping, the fans excitedly told the two how pretty they thought Y/n was before thanking each of them and running off.

Resuming their steps, Y/n giggled, “They had a crush on you. It was so cute.”

He laughed from beside her before kissing her temple, “Maybe, but I have a crush on you.”

—

“Okay, I take it back. I’m going to throw up.” Y/n’s face paled as Lando’s fist rapped against the wooden door.

“You said the same thing with my friends, baby, and they loved you. I’m telling you it will be the same with my family.” He tried to calm and reassure.

Thankfully, there was no room for disagreeing because his mom was opening the door and smiling widely at her son and his infamous new girlfriend.

“Lando!” She exclaimed before throwing her arms around her child.

“Hi, mum,” He laughed as he squeezed her tightly. Moving away and turning her head, Cisca beamed.

“Oh, you are so gorgeous! Tell me my son is treating you right?” She laughed before sending Y/n the sweetest smile the girl had ever received.

“Oh, he is, Mrs. Norris. Don’t worry.” Y/n assured as the woman pulled her into a hug as well.

“It’s Cisca to you.” Y/n could hear the warming smile in her voice before she was being led inside.

Walking into the house, Y/n’s noticed the immediate warmth that surrounded every furniture piece and person. It was a bit of a shocker and adjustment when she found out just how close Lando was to his family. Growing up, she hadn’t had that with her family as her parents didn’t have a good relationship and were constantly fighting while her siblings tried to calm both adults. It was traumatic, to put it simply, and after Lando had picked up on her confusion when he said he was going to meet his mom for lunch earlier in their relationship, he made a mental note to ask her about it later. When he did, she had had no choice, but to tell him her childhood, or lack thereof. He was quite surprised when he found out his bubbly, sweet girlfriend had come from such a toxic, violent household, but he didn’t voice that as he comforted her and apologized for something that wasn’t even his fault. Long story short, even though she had come to understand his relationship with his family, it was still a bit weird to her how much love there was to go around.

Coming up beside her, Lando’s hand rested on the bottom of her back as he whispered in her ear, “How are you doing?”

He could only assume how saddening this could be for her after countless words spoken with her over how angry she had been as a teenager at her parents for not providing with some sort of normal home life.

However, she just smiled up at him, laying a kiss on his cheek before whispering back, “I’ll be okay.”

He nodded and before he could lean in to meet her lips with his, Flo was appearing before them.

She beamed at the couple, “Hi! You must be Y/n. I’m Flo, Lando’s sister. He talks about you all the time.”

Her comforting tone gave Y/n the confidence to respond with, “Oh? I hope all good things?”

Lando chuckled as his hand squeezed her hip as his sister exposed him completely, “Oh, very good things. I’m serious, he actually never shuts up about you. I would be annoyed with him if he wasn’t so clearly happy.”

Y/n sent a smile to Lando’s sister before turning her head to gaze up at her boyfriend, realizing how much of a home she had found within him.

Soon enough, the rest of Lando’s siblings joined their sister, conversing with his American girlfriend like they had known her their whole life.

“So, you’re studying psychology to become a therapist, I hear?” Oliver inquired as Lando began to nod his head, a proud boyfriend.

She nodded along with him, “Yes, I’m graduating college this year and then I’ll move onto grad school to get my masters.”

Flo’s eyes widened, “Wow, do you know where you’re going?”

Lando blurted it out before Y/n could, he just couldn’t help how much he wanted to brag about her intelligence, “She’s going to Yale!”

All three siblings’ jaws fell open as Y/n laughed at her boyfriend’s eagerness, “Yale. I’m going to Yale. Thanks, babe.”

He smiled sheepishly down at her as he muttered a sorry to which she shook her head, not mad at all.

The conversation took off from there, continuing on while all of them sat at the dinner table, only then did the parents join in. Everyone was enthralled by Y/n, captured by her charm and smile, falling victim to all the same things Lando had. He wanted to take a picture, at that moment, as he gazed upon the girl who was very quickly earning the title of “Love of my Life” and how she clicked perfectly with everyone else he loved immensely.

As the night went on, leading into the darkness of midnight, Lando found himself in his old backyard, alone, as he watched Y/n in a very committed conversation with his sisters about Taylor Swift.

He wasn’t aware how long Oliver had sat next to him, only being aware of his presence when his brother said, “I think she’s it.”

Shaking his head, he frowned at his brother, “What?”

Oliver smiled down at his younger brother, remembering his own lovestruck days, “I think she’s it. I think you’ve found the one, Lando.”

To say he was blushing would have been an understatement, Lando was blood red in the cheeks, the neck, the ears, everywhere. His smile spoke volumes to his brother as he took a moment before responding, “I think so too.”

“How’d you two meet again?” Oliver had heard the story once, on the day it happened, but never again after that.

Once again, Lando’s smile hurt, “We met on the paddock at Silverstone. She was with her friends and we were both distracted, so we ran into each other and I literally spilled my coffee down her entire front. Thankfully, she was really sweet about it which didn’t help the fact that I was already in love with her. But, anyways, I remember I got to look at her first. She was looking down at her clothes while I was just staring at her. I seriously think I have never been that gobsmacked by someone’s beauty before. I almost couldn’t speak when she actually made eye contact with me. I offered to pay for her clothes, but then I realized that that would mean I wouldn’t have a chance to talk to her again, so I told her Lily would have something extra. I actually had no clue if Lily had extra clothes, I really didn’t expect her to because who the hell brings extra clothes to an event? But, I knew it would give me at least 20 more minutes with her, so I ran with it. Fortunately, Lily did have extra clothes, something I was incredibly confused by, and when Y/n was finished changing, she walked out without my number. I had been so nervous to ask her, but Lily yelled at me the second the door closed to get off my ass and go get a date with her, so I did. Thank God, I did, man.”

Oliver hung on to his brother’s every word, observing the twinkle in Lando’s eyes when the three girls across the yard would laugh at something Y/n had said. Even if he had never met Y/n, Oliver was sure he would’ve gotten the memo on how in love Lando was with her just by how highly, how affectionately he talked about her. I mean, it was actually partially true. Going into the dinner, everyone in the family was aware of how love drunk Lando was with this girl he had been dating. From the moment he had called them, detailing how he had just met this girl who had absolutely stolen his attention, the family had made bets on the fact this relationship would last a lifetime.

Even now, as he watched Lando wander over to his girlfriend like a lost puppy, Oliver was sure it would.

—

Just wanna be with you, wanna be with you. I fancy you, fancy you, oh.

“Baby! Guess what 5 years ago today was!” Lando’s voice yelled throughout their flat in Monaco as he wandered aimlessly, trying to find his fiancé.

He found Y/n in the kitchen, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows as her hip rested against the countertop, “What?”

Pulling her into his arms and showing her his phone, he smiled, “You met my parents, love. 5 years ago today.”

She laughed as she looked at the screen, only to find a picture of her, asleep in Lando’s car at time with the caption, ‘slumped after meeting the fam’

“God, that’s a really horrendous picture of me.” She replied as Lando immediately tugged on the hem of her shirt with a scowl, “What? No, it’s not! You always look so cute when you’re asleep.”

She over exaggerated a nod before he pinched her side, her yelping in response.

“Isn’t it good I think you’re cute when you’re asleep?” He smiled cheekily, “I mean, we are getting married,” His fingers toyed with the ring on her finger, “so, I’ll be waking up to you like that every day for the rest of our lives.”

She smiled as he kissed her, breathing her in, “When you put it that way, it’s not too bad.”

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