#I've been staying with my friend since Thursday night | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ienjoywritingfilth · 2 months

Text

love me more part ii

hi: you know i write filth. you can't be surprised by the depravity of this.

pairing: dbf!Joel x fem!reader part one here

trope: Mom's Boyfriend! Javier Pena

summary: After some great news you're in the best mood when your Mom's boyfriend Javier comes over. What's the harm in a little fun with him while she's not there?

warnings: public-ish sex (not sure how to define???), age gap, sexual tension, forbidden rel, absolutely filthy talk, daddy kink, oral (m receiving), swallowing, dub-conish, dark!JavierPena, almost caught, other shit but I've probs forgotten.

word count: 2.5k

rating 18+

wanna see my other stuff?

love me more part ii

Moving out wasn't going as quickly as you'd hoped. Rent on an apartment to call your own was exorbitant and your meagre savings weren't doing much to help.

Harper offered to let you stay at hers but the random men she brought home to her bed made you feel decidedly weirded out. You couldn't imagine actually feeling at ease in a home where you didn't know the person sitting next to you over cereal in the morning.

Five months had gone by since that night of fucking with Javier. Calling him faddy and seeing him get worked up. Five months since you heard him fucking your mother's brains out as he spoke filth about you, knowing you would fear. Five months since you made yourself come to the memory.

Well, actually, that's never really stopped. It's your favourite spank bank memory lately.

And you told yourself you'd quit the whole seduction act with Javier, except it was really hard because he was around more often. There in the kitchen when you went to grab coffee. There on the couch with his legs spread wide, a bottle of beer held casually between them as he stroked your mother’s hair. He was there in the mid afternoon when you came back from shopping with Harper dressed in tight jeans and t-shirt as he repaired the broken fridge. And he was there in her bedroom, fucking her brains out night after night.

As he should be, he was your mom's boyfriend for fucks sake.

Until he wasn't.

You came home from a weekend away with Harper to find moving boxes in the apartment and a wedding ring on your mother's fourth finger.

"We got married," your mother announced with a girlish giggle as you walked into the kitchen. Javier was at work and your mother was already three beers in. You goggled at the shiny emerald, shocked at the class of the design.

"When?"

"Javier has friends in Texas. We went for a little getaway to visit them and we passed this sweet little chapel and Javier's cousin is a priest and one thing led to another..."

She gave another girlish trill, practically floating around the kitchen.

"Why would you get married?” you choked out, still disbelieving. “You barely know him."

"We've been together seven months," she pouted. "Why aren't you happy for me?"

"I am happy, mom. I'm just surprised."

-----

And now you sit in your bed watching a movie on your phone on a Thursday night, still confused as to how you ended up here with your hands stuffed down the front of your pyjama pants as you imagine your new stepfather fucking you in your bed.

He and your mother are on their date night. Dinner and a movie. It's almost endearing if it wasn't also pathetically predictable. Like they bought into this whole white picket fence suburban dream despite the fact that they share a shitty apartment with you and your mom is shitfaced most nights.

Ever since the marriage you’ve tried to stay away from Javier for the most part, you'll say a polite good morning or good evening when you see him. You share the occasional meal with your mother and him, you even make extra coffee on the mornings that you start really early knowing that he'll want a cup as well. And he's equally polite to you, his eyes never straying from your face, his hands never coming anywhere near your body.

And it's driving you insane.

You hate how cordial you are to one another, you hate that you still think about his body and his voice and his eyes when you touch yourself at night. You hate that sometimes when he and your mother are really loud you press your ear to the wall and hopes of hearing snatches of his deep baritone groaning.

You're sick.

Your phone beeps.

I'm coming to pick u up.

It's late.

Bitch you need a life. You been working too hard

Harper is one of the lucky ones who get everything paid with her dad's credit card. You've had to work for everything you've ever had, coming from a poor background, being brought up with no father, you've had to overcome things at Harper can never even dream of.

I'll see you in thirty.

Harper doesn't bother replying to you and it's probably because she already has her tongue down some guy’s throat. She has a real affinity for guys that treat her like shit.

Despite needing to leave shortly you can't help but be drawn back to your bed. Your hand finds itself strumming your pussy once more to thoughts of the one man you shouldn't. When you orgasm his name bleeds from your lips before you throw yourself into the shower.

You dress in your best slutty club wear, applying deep red lipstick and calling an Uber.

-------

You arrive home hours later a little buzzed and more than a little horny. The guys at the club didn't do it for you. None of them have what you want, none of them are forbidden. You danced with them, let them kiss your neck, let them grind their hard cocks against your ass while you danced, but that was it.

You stumble through the front door after attempting the lock three times. The TV is glowing quietly.

Your mom is lying snuggled on the far end of the L-shaped couch with her face to the wall. She's snoring loudly, a sure sign that she's had too much to drink.

Javier is in the same spot he usually picks: the opposite end of the couch. He's watching some bullshit 80's action flick on the TV, empty beer cans littering the coffee table. You can tell from the brand that they were all your mothers. When you count up to eight cans you can only sigh exasperatedly.

Javier hears you enter the room, glancing over his shoulder to watch you stumble towards him. He’s got a cigarette smoldering next to him in the ashtray on the side table. It billows seductively.

"Hey. Didn't know you were still up."

"Yeah."

Javier nods before going back to the film. You glance to see your mom still snoring, deep in sleep. She's hard to wake up on these nights, one where she drinks herself into a stupor. You trip into the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and drinking it quickly before pouring another.

Javier's ignoring you resolutely and it makes you want to break him. You want to see that wild look in his eyes from so many months ago. The way he shuddered when you called him daddy.

You take another gulp of water before an idea comes to you. You tilt over the sink dribbling cold water down the front of your thin shirt. Without a bra the buds of your nipples jut beautifully through the fabric.

You saunter out to the TV room, the glass of water forgotten. You walk up to the TV, pretending to be engrossed.

“Watcha watching?”

You stand to the side, aware that Javier can see everything.

“A boring movie.”

You hold in a smirk when you turn to face him, your wet t-shirt clinging to you. The water makes the fabric stick to the curves, showcasing the round pert of your tits.

Javier doesn't look amused. He looks positively steaming when you turn, walking to the back of the couch. You stand behind him, looking down at the top of his head, the tousled hair, the wide shoulders. He continues to ignore you, fingers twitching at his sides.

You don't know why but you're desperate to touch him tonight. Your fingers slide up his neck, coming to wrap in the loose curl at the base of his skull and tugging.

"You have such nice hair," you murmur huskily. "So thick."

------

Javier knows you're fucking with him.

Even as the goosebumps rise on his skin at the sensation of your fingers gripping his hair, even as your fingernails trace down his neck as you slowly pull your hand off of him.

He knows that you've been playing this game for weeks. Every time you brush up against him unnecessarily when you grab your coffee in the morning. Every time you stretch and show him that thin band of flesh between your shirt and pants. It's just enough to tease without being obvious.

And he knows why you just showed him his own personal wet t-shirt contest. You think you're powerful, you think you have him where you want.

Silly girl.

He knows that even him ignoring you is fun to you, to see who will fold first. He knows you want him to fold. This is your game.

But tonight it ends.

-------

You smirk to yourself when you see Javier shift under your touch. You move around to the front of him and now his dark eyes move up your body, lingering over your breasts before forcing themselves to your face.

You tilt forward, your knees touching his. Your chest sways enticingly before him while your hands go to his shoulders. He tenses under you, his eyes wide and pupils overtaking the iris. You move your mouth towards him and he leans forward, confused when you move past his mouth to his ear.

"Have a good sleep, daddy," you whisper, your lower lip catching his earlobe. Javier shudders.

But you pull back sharply when your mom snorts. You and Javier watch her shifting slightly before she falls back into a deep slumber.

That was close.

You almost jump when Javier's hand darts out and grabs your wrist. In one fluid motion he covers your mouth as well, tugging you onto his lap. You collapse over him, your legs are spread, your crotch against his. He's hard.

"You wanna act like a whore?" Javier murmurs against your temple. "Then I'm gonna treat you like one."

He pushes you off of his lap before forcing you to your knees between his parting legs. He darts his dark eyes over to your mom's sleeping form, her snores still heavy.

He wouldn’t.

You watch mute as he unzips his jeans, his eyes on you the entire time. He doesn't even hesitate to pull his hard cock from its confines. It's angry red, jutting out like some beacon and the tip glistens.

You continue to kneel there, your eyes flying from the weeping head of his cock back to his face and then back again. One large hand grasps you by the back of the neck. You gasp when he holds the base of his cock with the other, tapping the head against your shocked lower lip.

"C'mon now, bonita," he whispers huskily when you don't act. "I know a slut like you isn't afraid of a cock."

Offended you tense, trying to pull out of his grasp.

"I’m not go-"

"I'm not asking," Javier says and the amusement has fled from his features. "I'm telling."

You swallow, feeling your nipples tighten and your cunt clench even though you know what he’s doing is wrong.

"I'll wake up my mom," you whisper weakly.

An oily smirk settles across his handsome features. He drags his cock along your lips and you can taste his salty pre-cum when your tongue darts over it almost immediately.

"I'll deny it. I'll tell her about all your little games. She'll see your tits on display and I'll tell you you've been hitting on me since we started dating."

The worst part is you know she'll believe him, her wonderful new husband. Javier surprises you when he takes your hand and curls it around his aching cock. You surprise yourself by allowing it. He captures your eyes with his again.

"Do what you've been promising me for months."

"I haven't promised you anything," you whisper with a tremble.

Javier leans forward, his eyes burning as his face stops inches from yours. His voice was already quiet and raspy, but now it seems like it's scraping the floor.

"Yes you have. Every time you called me daddy, every lingering touch, every longing look promised me everything, you little slut," he muses. "And you know it."

You watch in shock as he begins to thrust his cock between your fingers. He does it slowly at first, letting himself get used to the warmth of your palm and the shock present on your features. But you don’t stroke him, you don’t do anything but watch.

"Didn't grow up with a daddy so you don't have any manners," Javier whispers. He leans back, his fingers holding yours against his throbbing cock as he continues. "Guess I gotta teach you."

He strokes himself with your shocked fingers, casting a smarmy smile in your direction. You watch mesmerized as the pre-cum coats the meat of your palm, allowing him to glide unencumbered.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs. “Think you can handle it on your own?”

You don’t reply, but you do stroke him as he thrusts. His hands go to the back of the couch, one hand reaching into the ashtray at his elbow. He plucks his smoldering cigarette from it, popping it between his pillowy lips and inhaling slowly.

Your palm twists, jerking him and tugging. He grunts softly, his gaze slipping over to you sleeping mother before going to your breasts which sway as your arm pumps. He feels such a thrill at doing this. At fucking your hand while his wife sleeps only a few feet away, likely to turn over at any moment. It makes him harder.

He blows the smoke into your face, amused at the wrinkle of your nose when he does.

"Get them out," he orders, his voice still a husky murmur.

You shake your head, knowing what he's after.

"No."

"Cut the shit and get your tits out."

You frown deeply before lifting the hem of your shirt. Then realizing you don't want to be on more display then necessary you change course, bringing your shirt down low enough for your breasts to spring free.

Javier makes a soft purring noise, like some horny jungle cat. He pops the cigarette back into his mouth . He palms them both, marveling at how good they look, how soft they are before taking another deep drag from his smoke. He again blows it in your direction before speaking around it.

"Need that little whore mouth now.”

There’s a small voice that warns you there’s no coming back from this. That reminds you that Javier Pena is your mom’s husband. And yet he doesn’t even need to touch you and urge you forward, because you’re already shifting forward.

Your mother could turn around at any second and see you on your knees between his legs, hands in your lap and your head moving towards his throbbing cock. It's pathetic how easily your jaw is dropping open for him, urging his fat cock between the lips of your mouth, tasting every ridge.

What else would she see? The almost eager gleam in your eyes as soon as he moves over your tongue? The way your toes curl as he groans softly, his wide fingers tangling in your hair?

Would she notice now your eyes roll back not in pain but in ecstasy as he plunges himself deeper and deeper until he's fucking your throat?

Gotta keep quiet. Gotta keep quiet.

Would she be in shock to see her new husband fucking her daughter's mouth? Javier, sat back relaxed and forcing her head to bob up and down for him? Would she even notice the way her daughter slips one hand beneath her skirt and begins to rub her clit in time with Javier's thrusts?

"Faster," he pants quietly above you, slipping his slobbery cock between your lips over and over. He's enjoying the sight of you there on your knees, needy and desperate with your head snapping as he fucks your face.

Gotta keep quiet. Gotta keep quiet.

All you can smell is him, all you can taste is him, all you can feel is him. Thick and ridged as he coats himself in your saliva, forcing your jaw to drop as he feeds you more of him. You hear the way he works to muffle his grunts. You could be caught at any second.

Your eyes are smudged with mascara and you're drooling around his cock. He continues to hold his fist around your hair, fucking his cock deeper into your throat.

"A little whore like her mama," Javier purrs softly with what could sound like affection. "You swallow like her too?"

Your eyes roll back into your head at the degradation, your fingers stuttering around your clit until the explosion of pleasure hits you. It makes you tense and release, a fluttering between your thighs making you thrash as he continues to thrust into your mouth.

Gotta keep quiet.

You swallow you moan, shuddering violently as you continue to hollow your cheeks and take him. At the sight Javier feels his balls tighten and without warning he floods your mouth with his warm spend.

"Swallow daddy's cum," he manages to grind out, hips rolling as he explodes into your waiting throat. "Swallow it down like the good little whore you are."

You are a good little whore. His good little whore, wet and needy for him. You hold in a moan, feeling the warmth coat your tongue as you swallow him down, neck bobbing as Javier strokes your collar.

Gotta keep quiet. Gotta keep quiet.

Javier is breathing rapidly, his hair in his eyes as he stares at you. His cock is slick with your saliva and even watching it softening you are shocked at how much you want it back in your mouth.

He notices your hypnosis and he smirks before tapping your cheek gently with two fingers.

"Show me."

You tilt your face back and show him your clean mouth, eyes still wet and your pussy throbbing.

"Tongue."

Your tongue slides out, flipping to show him you weren't lying. Javier smirks, nodding at the fucked out expression on your face.

"Daddy's good girl."

Your mother suddenly snorts, half wheezing and shifting in her sleep. The sound terrifies you both. Javier tucks himself back into his jeans as you pull up your shirt and scamper off to your bedroom.

#javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier pena x you #narcos fanfiction #smut #narcos fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction

197 notes · View notes

miraclewoozi · 10 months

Text

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC. notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away. notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago.

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room.

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right.

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones.

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’.

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone.

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name.

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry).

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen.

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts.

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour.

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed?

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him.

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense.

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know.

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans?

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can.

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty.

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it.

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away.

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced.

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there.

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since.

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie.

There is one more.

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly.

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most.

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it.

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits.

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask.

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through.

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake.

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so.

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage.

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest.

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning.

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on.

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth.

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle.

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough.

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe.

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.”

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—” He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go.

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him.

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.”

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different.

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms.

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice.

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants.

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured.

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use.

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again.

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans.

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle.

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat.

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like.

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base.

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him.

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming.

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess.

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop.

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name.

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to.

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.”

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own.

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle.

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache.

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum.

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas.

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

#dino smut #lee chan smut #dino x reader #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #kpop smut #j writes.#*#this description is ass we're gonna pretend it isnt. ok THANKS bye <3

913 notes · View notes

gretavanmoon · 4 months

Text

S17

Spinning Now: "Birthday Sex" by Jeremih (2009)

Pairing: Danny x female reader

Word Count: 14.3k

Description: Danny's always been that friend and roommate who you never thought of as anything more, until a birthday proposition presents itself in a way that neither of you can deny.

Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, Heavy Flirting, Praise, Dirty Talk, Touching, Wax Play

Smut: Kissing, Oral M!Receiving, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex (use protection!!)

+ This little diddly of an idea has been swimming around in my head for months now, and I've been so excited to get it going. And thanks to the reader who suggested it be a roomies trope ;) Hope ya like xoxo

Girl you know i i i...

HER POV

White or red?

There is no special occasion, simply just the bi-weekly dinner gathering of your friend group that has turned into an every-Thursday-night habit. Not that an occasion constitutes your wine choice, but still yet, the thought quickly crosses your mind. You are all meeting at your and Danny’s house tonight, along with the conjoined group of friends that has been steadily keeping each other fed for the past two and a half years, now.

You’d been living with Danny for as long as you could remember, taking claim of his spare room sometime after everyone collectively moved out of your parents’ homes. The arrangement worked perfectly, the two of you already knowing how the other ticked after being friends for many years. Your jobs kept both of you busy, giving the other enough room that you didn’t feel like you were invading space in the small house.

You pull your phone from your pocket as you peruse the wine selections, texting the group chat to check on tonight’s menu.

You: What are we making tonight again? I already forgot

Jake: Salmon and quinoa and some other stuff

Jake: God your memory sucks

You: Emma, come get your man he’s being mean to me again

Emma: Quit picking on her babe

You: Ok so I should get white wine, right? Pairs with fish?

Sam: Just get three fuckin bottles of wine, who cares

You: Ok I’m not coming if you guys are gonna continue to harass me

Sam: Too bad it’s your house and you have to be there anyway

You: I’ll lock myself in my room I don’t care

Danny: No Y/N, if they’re gonna be assholes they don’t have to come over. They can stay home and we can order pizza :)

Jake: Shut the fuck up Sam, I’m making the damned salmon and quinoa

Josh: What the fuck is quinoa

You shove your phone back in your pocket as you roll your eyes, the buzzing still consistent as you imagine they are still arguing with one another.

It's funny how much Danny has been defending you lately. He’s still his normal self, your very good friend who sometimes lets his sweet side get the better of him, but in the past couple of months, something has switched. The more the brothers pick on you, the more he stands up for you. It used to be the opposite, with him joining in on your playful dog-piling any chance he could get. But ever since a couple of months ago… ever since his last birthday…

Almost three years ago now, you and Danny had found yourselves wrapped up in each other’s arms in his bed after a drunken night that started out like any other, dinner, socializing, cards, and way too much to drink. It was his birthday party, and after everyone else had cleared out, you stayed up to clean up the multitude of plastic cups and empty bottles that were scattered around the house. You were both fairly drunk, and you knew if you got the majority of the party cleaned up that night, you wouldn’t have to bother with it all while being inevitably hungover the next morning.

“I’ll get out of your hair soon, Danny. I’m about to call an Uber to go stay with Emma.” You’d said as you dried the last of the dishes. He was sprawled out over on the loveseat, his shirt halfway unbuttoned and his mess of curls pulled up on top of his head. You’d always found him attractive, but you’d always been positive he was way out of your league. He’d never even given you a passing glance in that way. Except, that night, he looked exceptionally delicious… and your hazy, drunken mind undoubtedly had started to drift.

“What? Whyyyyy…? Don’t get an Uber, it’s too late,” he’d slurred as you walked over to sit on the ottoman his feet were rested on.

“Becauseeee… it’s your birthday and I don’t want to interrupt your time with whatever guest you might have coming over.” You remember the words felt heavy in your mouth, like it was strange that you had never talked about Danny’s personal life out loud before. Or yours, for that matter. Even after all the years of being friends and roommates, the two of you had always taken things as they’d come… watching as strangers made their way in and out of your bedrooms without a second question.

“Guest?” His face contorted. “I ‘ont have a guest coming over, Y/N…”

You’d let your mouth gape open and your hand clutch your chest in a display of over-dramatics. “Really? No one to give you a happy ending on your birthday?! You must be falling off the wagon, Wagner.”

What you do remember, though, was how hard he laughed at your half-assed attempt at a shitty joke.

“I swear! Just me, tonight.” It was at that very second that you remember becoming enamored with the way he licked his lips, how he clicked his tongue just a little, and how his eyes had fluttered closed under his lashes. He’d reached his hand out for you to grab, so you did.

“You gonna let me be lonely on my birthday, Y/N?” His warm fingers slowly worked their way to interlace with yours. This flirtatious tone wasn’t something you’d ever seen from him before, but for some reason, you found yourself tumbling for it. The deep rasp in his voice signaled something else, something so unexpected from him that you almost laughed it off as him kidding with you.

Your eyes had glanced around the room in confusion, and when you didn’t answer, you felt his foot kick into your leg, bringing your eyes back to look at him. His eyebrow was cocked in the air, as if he was waiting for an answer.

“You’re drunk, Danny… you don’t…” you’d anxiously answered, nodding your head side to side in disbelief.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t want me to… stay…” for some reason, he was making you nervous, and you were having trouble answering him. There was no way he wanted you to stay, of all people. No way in hell.

He’d laughed, sitting up on the couch and leaning over to take you in his arms in a giant bear hug. His face was buried into your shoulder, pulling you close in the warmest embrace you’d had in a while. It was strange feeling him this closely, and you shivered a little at his touch. You’d hugged him back, and then felt his lips drift close to your ear.

“I actually do… want you to stay here with me. In my room, in my bed, until tomorrow morning…” his voice crackled in your ear, the faint scent of spicy tequila still on his breath. It’d sent chills all over your body, and you had to admit, it was a strangely welcome feeling. Danny had never been this close to you, like this, ever before. His words had shocked your system, though, temporarily deeming you unable to respond.

So when he finally pulled back from the hug and confidently met your eyes again, you let yourself go with it. You were still fairly intoxicated, but this drop dead gorgeous friend of yours who had hardly ever given you the time of day was now throwing himself into your lap. Why turn him down? It was his birthday, after all.

“I never knew you were into me, Danny,” you’d cooed, watching as his fingers drifted across the back of your hand.

He sat back and dropped his head against the cushion again, cracking his fingers above his head. “I‘ve always been into you, Y/N. You’re gorgeous and fun, make me laugh… always been so good to me.”

You’d never admitted it, but of course you had pictured yourself with him a time or two. How could you not? Talented, handsome, kind and genuine…always looking for fun and always including you in his outlandish plans. But this…him laying it out on the line like this? It had your body beginning to physically yearn for him, completely out of nowhere.

“Stop playing, no you haven’t…” you’d argued, still in disbelief.

He held his hands up in surrender, cocking a sideways smile. “I swear. I just… never had the guts to say anything…”

You contemplated it all for a second, giving him a questioning look that begged for his reassurance.

“Why not, ya know? Not like we’re strangers…” you’d muttered through a sharp inhale.

You stood from the ottoman and slowly began stepping one foot in front of the other toward him, standing just between his legs. Your heart rate spiked as you answered him, your face flushing with the reality of what you were about to do. “Just a birthday hookup, huh? Just this one time?”

You let your hand brush against his thigh, your fingers lightly tickling until they reached his hip. It felt as though your hands were disconnected from your body, making their own decision to reach out and touch him as he sat reclined in front of you. Gently, his hands pulled around your waist, his thumbs digging into the flesh, strong and inviting.

“Just this one time…and that’s it.”

That night, the two of you stayed up until the winter sun was striking through the windows onto Danny’s white down comforter, and only then did the two of you finally drift off to a short but sweet slumber, until the alarm on his phone woke you both in a panic.

You’d fallen asleep upside-down on the bed, both of your heads at the foot of his king-size. His arm was draped across the small of your back, and his hair was still a messy bundle of curls at the back of his head.

“Fuck,” he’d muttered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, it’s your alarm…”

Suddenly, now, in the light of day and the brightness of the room, the both of you became very conscious of your unclothed selves. You’d felt your cheeks blush at the sight of him, skin still dewy with the after-effects of sweat and sex. You didn’t miss his passing glance of you, too, still halfway wrapped up in his sheets as he maneuvered to the top of the bed to check the time.

“‘S only seven. Shit, I’ve got a headache…” he said, running a hand over his face.

“Me too,” you mumbled as he laid back down beside you. You pulled the covers up a bit more over your body, feeling extremely exposed in the bright sunlight. He propped himself up on his elbows, giving you a sweet and questioning look. “So, what are we supposed to do now?” you’d asked. “Cuddle?”

His laugh bounced off the walls, the glitter in his eye sending a wave of nerves through your body.

“We cuddled plenty last night, Y/N. We didn’t end up falling asleep until like, six,” he said, his voice groggy with sleep, or lack thereof.

“Fuck,” you breathed. “I’m sorry for keeping you up all night, I know you have things to do all day–” he cut you off with a kiss, his neck craning down to meet your lips with the sweetest surprise touch.

After a few fleeting seconds he pulled away, meeting your eyes as he spoke again. “Don’t you dare apologize to me, Y/N. I asked you to stay in here. Asked you to keep me company on my birthday.” His hand reached up to pull the hair away from your cheek, bringing instant flashbacks of his hands on your face and shoulders last night as he pinned you down, fucking you into his mattress. “I was just completely unaware that both of us would last for that many hours…” he laughed, rolling away to cover his face.

“God, Danny, don’t embarrass me!” you laughed along with him.

“What is there to be embarrassed about?! Shit, I think we were great together,” he went on, holding his hand out for you to low-five.

You pursed your lips together, letting your hand clap onto his. “We were, weren’t we? Never would have thought.”

“Shit, I thought about it all the time…” he admitted.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you played, smacking him across the chest.

“I don’t know, you’re just a girl in my friend group, ya know? My roommate that helps me with rent…didn’t want to freak you out or something and make you hate me,” he explained.

You propped up on your elbow, shaking your head at him. “So we could have been doing this all along?”

“Oh, so you enjoyed yourself, then?” he countered, rolling you to lie on your back as he pulled himself over you again.

As you gazed up at him above you, small curly strands falling around his face and onto yours, you felt your face get hot, the same need you felt in your stomach for him last night coming back full force. A need you never thought you would have for him. A need that came back to you over and over again the night before, and left you both too exhausted to even bother to see the morning.

“Danny, we fucked like five times, of course I enjoyed myself,” you tried to keep the confidence heavy in your voice.

His nose scrunched up as he giggled, light and airy into the room. He laced his fingers with yours, lifting your hands together into the air and pulling them back down between you again. This time, you took the initiative and kissed him again, straining to keep things from moving as quickly as they had moved once you finally climbed into his lap on the couch last night.

When you finally separated, both of you refraining from letting it go any further, he disconnected your hands and clenched his jaw. “What do we do now?”

You didn’t want a relationship. And neither did he. That much was very known amongst your friend group, the both of you way too busy with your own lives to devote your time to another. You stood strong in that decision, and you knew for a fact that he would, too. So your mind began wandering, thinking of ways to end this entanglement you’d found yourselves in.

“What if we just… did this sometimes?” you proposed.

His brow furrowed. “I’m listening…”

“Our birthdays. Yours in December, and mine in June… it’s perfect. If the both of us are single on our birthday each year, we make a plan to not leave the other lonely…” The idea seemed preposterous, but at the same time, it didn't. A sure-fire way to make each of your birthdays interesting each year, and after the night you’d shared last night, you’re positive he wouldn’t turn the idea down.

His eyes dashed around the room as he considered it, taking a deep breath as he sat up in the bed. You caught a glance of his naked lower half, and your eyes rolled back on their own accord as you pictured his hips pounding into yours last night in the darkness of his bedroom. You sat up too, challenging his gaze.

He held his hand out again, this time for you to shake.

“Deal.”

—-

After deciding on the three bottles of wine, two white and a red, your mind begins wandering off by itself, causing you to hardly pay attention to the fact that you are singing the words to the song playing in your headphones out loud. You bite your lips, glancing around to see if anyone had seen you, or worse, heard your horribly flat singing voice. Luckily the aisle is clear, so you make a mad dash for the checkout line, ready to get out and head back home for dinner.

The drive is short, and when you finally arrive in the driveway, you find that you’re the last one to get there.

“Hello, hello,” you sing as you let yourself inside, kicking off your flip flops at the door. You set the bag of wine bottles on his island where Jake and Sam are busy preparing the meal.

“Thank god, the booze is here!” you hear Josh sing through the house as he makes his way over to stand beside you, opening the drawer of the island to search for Danny’s wine opener. You set all three bottles in line on the countertop in a nice straight line. “Shiraz, Y/N? That’s surely a bold choice…” Josh says, rolling his eyes.

“The label looked pretty, I don’t know!” you counter, shoving your shoulder into his. “It already smells really good, guys…” you say as you leave Josh to the wine, leaning over Jake’s shoulder as he stirs a pot at the stove. Suddenly Danny is leaning over his other side, sticking his finger in whatever sauce Jake is stirring.

“Aht, aht!” Jake swats his hand away just as Danny sticks his finger into the saucepan. “It’s not perfect yet…”

“Tastes good as hell to me,” Danny says, locking eyes with you as he pops his lips over his finger. You feel your insides churn.

“So Y/N, your birthday is next week, you guys planning your weird little bi-yearly birthday hookup still?” Josh nonchalantly asks as he yanks the cork from the bottle of red. Fortunately, it only took nearly two years for your friends to catch on to your and Danny’s little birthday agreement, when Jake inadvertently tried to surprise Danny with filling up his bathroom with balloons, only to find you bent over the bathroom sink.

“Christ, Josh, you have to put it like that?” Danny intervened. “Geez…”

“What?! That’s what it is, right?” Josh says as he pulls glasses down from the cabinet. You feel your face blush, even though it’s an open topic, at this point.

Danny pulls himself up to sit on the corner of his countertop. “No, we simply enjoy the other’s company on our birthdays because both of us suck at the dating playing field and always decide to indulge in one another’s availability, right Y/N?”

“That’s correct,” you confidently agree as you listen to the others groan.

Josh throws his head back and laughs loudly.

“What?” Danny yelps.

“You don’t think it’s funny that neither of you have ever had a significant other on your birthdays for the past what, three years now?” Josh says, eliciting silent looks of agreement from his brothers.

“Mmm, no, I don’t think it’s funny. We both suck at dating, you heard him. This is just…our way of making sure we aren’t alone twice a year.” The attempt at explaining yourselves is transparent, at this point. You know you’re lying to yourselves. It's obvious. Each and every time you pull yourself from Danny’s bed, or he from yours, you feel your bones begging you to stay. You like him, you’ll admit it, but only to yourself.

Twice a year isn’t enough, it was never enough. And you know for a fact that it will never be enough. On his birthday last year, you could have sworn you heard him say something close to the ‘L’ word as he came for the third time that night, his voice low and whining as you clenched around him, bringing him to his completely fucked-out state of mind. Each hookup had gotten hotter, heavier, and more serious. Each time was better than the last, and this last one was so intense, that you ended up staying in his room a second night, completely breaking your own rules.

As you slipped out of his bedroom that second morning, his honey brown eyes were begging you to stay, his lips touching his fingertips and blowing it your way as you quietly shut his bedroom door behind you.

That morning broke you. That morning your heart told you what it wanted.

That morning was the last time you denied it to yourself– you were absolutely head over heels for him. The yearning you’d felt had begun overtaking your whole self. And it wasn’t just yearning, it was something else. Something more powerful, something you couldn’t grasp the notion of, because you’d never felt it before. It’s now become something that makes your days drag by with the thought of him, not only sexually but personally, too. You feel wrapped up in his life, intertwined with his decisions, and some days you barely even have the time to give each other more than a goodmorning and goodnight. Sure, you still meet up every week with your group for dinner, but the subtle touches and the intense glances that are being shared almost on the daily now have become too much. You want to tell him. You need to tell him.

“Hm. Okay, so… what’s the plan this year?” Josh asks, obviously wanting to pry into your business, just like always.

“Josh, it’s none of your fucking business. Can you leave them alone for a second?” Sam says as he empties the box of rice into the insta-pot.

“No, it’s fine. I have big plans…” Danny bites his cheeks in as he denies himself a cheeky smile, swinging his bare feet as he sits on the counter. His eyes are boring into yours, and you swear just a simple word from him would have you on your knees for him, anymore.

“Big plans, huh?” you try to avoid his stare.

“Mmmmhm…” he says, grinning to himself. “Might have you running away and never coming back, though.”

You nearly choke on the sip of wine swirling in your mouth. Throughout the years, you will admit, your hookups had gotten more and more mischievous as time went on, both of you pushing each other’s boundaries just a little more each time. Nothing had ever gotten too crazy, but after his birthday last year, it was an unwritten understanding that not much was off the table, at all.

Sam plugs his ears with his fingers. “La la la I don’t wanna hear details!”

Jake pulls his wooden spoon from the sauce, turning to face all of you. “I do, I wanna hear it. Keep going. What’s the plan?”

“I’m not fuckin’ tellin’ you guys, it’ll ruin the surprise,” Danny argues as Josh hands him a glass of wine.

“Okay well you can tell me after her birthday then, right?” Jake pushes.

Emma steps in front of him, taking the now dripping spoon from his hand and running her tongue up the side to catch it from going into the floor. “Yeah Danny, maybe you should give him the rundown, maybe it’ll get his wheels turning,” she challenges, bouncing her eyebrows to Jake as she places the spoon back into the sauce. You laugh at her, feeling no embarrassment in the least.

“Get my wheels turning?! What is that supposed to mean?!” Jake yells, grabbing her waist from behind and spinning her around the kitchen.

You lock eyes with Danny again as he gives you a suspicious look of excitement, like he’s trying his hardest to keep his idea locked inside.

—---

After a rambunctious and wine-drunk dinner, everyone begins to file out of the house, stumbling away to either walk down the street to their respective homes, or catching a ride out with other friends to the nearest bar. You’re left behind again, like always, helping Danny with dishes and pouring out the remaining bits of wine left behind in the glasses.

“So, next week. The big 2-5. You still down for hanging out?” he asks as he dries the last dish, as if you would ever say no.

“Actually, I think I’m going to spend this year alone, ya know? Keep it low key, order some take-out and curl up on the couch,” you say with a cheeky tone.

His jaw hangs slack as he nearly drops the towel in his hand. “Really?”

You scoff. “No, Danny. Are you serious? We shook on it, and I don’t break my promises,” you laugh. You slowly walk toward him, the line between friend and more than a friend getting blurrier as time goes on. You want to put your hands on his bare chest, press yourself against his warm body, crane your neck up to meet for a sweet kiss, but you don’t. Because you can’t. Because he isn’t yours.

So instead you just simply stand before him, leaning a hand onto the countertop.

He lets out an audible sigh of relief. “Shew, good. I was about to be pissed at you, Y/N,” he breathes as he playfully shoves your shoulder. “Standing me up on your birthday…”

You smile as you realize your feet are carrying you closer to him on their own. You try to stop them, try to tell them no, but you can’t. Now you’re standing in front of him, your chests almost touching as you let your finger trail up his arm to his neck. “I’d never stand you up, Danny. Not in a million years,” you murmur.

You feel his body stiffen as you let your singular fingertip connect with his skin, your touch a featherlight drift. You glance down at his hand balanced on the cold marble countertop, his fingers tightening and loosening under the weight of his own want to touch you back. You hear him breathe in, fast and choppy as you begin to manipulate the line between friends and more, truly unable to keep it black and white no matter how much you try. Finally you let your eyes look into his, dark and brooding and looking a lot like they do after a few rounds of self-indulgence with you.

“Good,” he growls, “because I have a hell of a night planned for us.”

Us.

“Is that right?” you question, still trailing your fingertip across his arm and neck. You can see the chill bumps forming on his skin now, and you can tell he is physically restraining himself from succumbing to his mental constraints. You have to admit, you’re finding it very satisfying, watching his mind tell his body no. The muscles in his arms flex and tighten as you step closer, slowly tiptoeing to bring your faces close, your lips barely ghosting his.

“That’s very right,” he whispers, opening his mouth slightly as if he’s going to kiss you, but instead pulling back a little. The proximity is enough to make you feel soaked already, your entire body buzzing with fire for him.

“When do you want me ready?” you breathe, letting your lips graze across his, your finger now hooked behind his bicep. His hands are still gripping as he balances between the island and the countertop as he leans down to you, restraining himself still yet.

He’s inhaling and blowing air quickly through his nose, and you know for a fact that he’s holding himself back with everything in him. His jaw clenches hard as his eyes stay trained on your lips. “Want you right now, if I’m being honest…” His words make the butterflies in your stomach explode their wings.

You can taste the wine still heavy on his breath. “But it’s not my birthday, Danny…” you retort.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m getting to a point where I don’t care.”

You swallow it down. Maybe your thoughts are mutual… Your heart is absolutely racing, like it would do when you found out your elementary school crush liked you back. You don’t even know what to say, at this point, you want him so badly…your vision blurring with the mental snaps of the two of you wrapped up in one another again.

“You should care, we have an agreement,” you admit through your teeth, as badly as it hurts to say it. “We set our rules.”

He scoffs hard. “I don’t remember signing my name on any dotted line, Y/N,” he spurts back, making you feel that drop in your stomach again. He wants to break the rules, too.

You bite your lips in, deciding to cut your losses. You step back from him, disconnecting your finger from behind his arm, and stepping away. The flushed look on his pink cheeks is enough to make you want to run back into his arms, and the look on his face makes it seem as though he just lost the one thing in his life he never planned on having, anyway.

“I asked you a question, Danny. When do you want me ready?” you say strongly.

He closes his eyes and recenters, swallowing down his thoughts. “Uh, uhm. F-Friday. Around 8.” He finally cleans up his expression and meets you with a smile again. “Be ready to celebrate.”

—--

DANNY POV

Friday rolls around more quickly than you thought it would. The group had decided to rain-check family dinner this week, planning on celebrating Y/N’s birthday the following weekend when everyone would be in town at the same time.

Your palms had been sweaty all day just at the thought of what tonight would hold, and you realize that you hadn’t been this anxious for a night together with Y/N, yet. The nerves are positively eating you alive, but you shove them down, knowing that you shouldn’t be having them in the first place. She doesn’t feel for you the same way you feel for her, and she likely never will.

It’s heartbreaking and wasteful, really, knowing that your sexual chemistry with her is only put to good use twice a fucking year when it should be being shared with her whenever you wanted to show her how much you really care, but. Here you find yourself.

She’s taking up all the extra space in your mind these days. You feel like you’re floating on air each and every time the vision of her face pops into your mind, you feel like you can feel the blood in your veins rising to a hotter temperature than you’ve ever experienced, and you find yourself wanting to give her all the things she’s ever wanted, and more. Your friend, one of your best friends, you’d say, unknowingly spinning herself into your life in a way that you can’t even tell her about.

That last birthday you shared together, your twenty-fifth, wasn’t the same as the rest before it. Sure, fucking her was high on your list of excellent sexual experiences thus far, but that last time, shit. Had your head spinning for days after. Never had a woman gotten you more fucked up than she did after that night. Two nights, really. That was when you knew it was real. When you wanted to ask her to stay, don’t go… be with me here and don’t ever leave… But your pride got the best of you. So you let her walk out, taking every single last bit of hope you had to make her yours with her as she walked out your bedroom door.

Could she not see it? Did she not notice how horribly you want her, all the time? Surely she doesn’t think you’re just being nice when you do little things for her… offer to change the oil in her car, take her lunch to work, send her every single funny meme and video you have ever come across simply because you know they’ll make her laugh…

Apparently not. But you don’t want to push too hard, too soon, either. If it’s meant to happen, it will. Hell, you hadn’t even told Sam about these feelings you’d been having. No one knows. This is a secret you’d kept bottled up for months now.

You come back inside after a quick trip to the grocery store and gently place the items from your arms onto the island, making sure the champagne bottle doesn’t tip over and break. You stick the bottle into the fridge and remove everything else from the plastic bags before rushing into your bedroom to make sure it’s presentable.

While she was at work, you’d spent the majority of the day cleaning up the general guy-ness of your bedroom, putting on a fresh set of sheets and giving the bathroom a good wipe-down. You’d never cared this much, for what she thinks of your surroundings…

…But you want tonight to be special. You want this birthday to be her favorite one, yet. And you’re determined to do so. You’d placed various candles around the surfaces of your bedroom, trying to make it romantic, but not so much that it will make her think you’re trying too hard.

When you decide that your room is as neat as it’s going to get, you go back into the kitchen and tear into the small cardboard box that’s been hiding away on top of your refrigerator for almost a month now. You’d seen an ad for it while scrolling instagram or something, and you knew right then that you had to get it. Your birthdays spent with her were becoming more and more experimental, and the idea for this year had fallen right into your lap.

You rip the packing tape off the box, letting it fall to the wayside as you open the flaps, finding the perfectly wrapped 2 and 5 candles in all their glittering glory. Shiny, crimson red wax with metallic gold trimming, long wicks and a thickness that regular store-bought candles just don’t have. You smirk as you pull them from the packaging and lay them in front of her small cake- chocolate with white buttercream icing. Her favorite. A glance at the clock on the stove lets you know you have an hour until she gets home, so you scurry off to the shower to get a last-minute scrub before you inevitably hear her coming through the door.

—--

Your stomach nearly falls to the floor when you hear the front door unlatch, and you find her a tired and flustered mess after her long shift. You busy yourself on your laptop, trying your best to seem more involved with what you’re doing than watching her unload her things from her arms onto the table.

“Hey birthday girl,” you mutter without looking back at her. “How was your day?”

You feel her lean all her body weight across the back of the couch beside you. “Long,” she huffs, “but not bad.”

You find the confidence to turn your head to her, finding her resting her head into her palm as she eyes you. You have to reel it all back in as you feel her so closely in your presence again.

“Good,” you reply, keeping it short. “Not too tired to skip our date?”

She hums a sweet laugh. “No. Most definitely not.”

“Are we…leaving the house? I’m trying to decide what to wear…” she asks shyly.

You have to remind yourself that she’s your friend, there’s nothing to be scared of, you do this all the time…

“No, actually. We’re staying home,” you reply.

Home. Your home, with her.

“Eight o’clock?” she reiterates.

“Yep, on the dot,” you tease as she stands to make her way to her end of the house.

She sways down the hallway, tossing her jacket over her shoulder as she disappears into the shadows. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

—---

A few hours later, you’re leaned on the island swirling a lowball glass of tequila, waiting for her to emerge from her bedroom. You’d been standing patiently, fashionably early for your birthday date in the kitchen as you listened to the faint sounds of her music playing as she got ready.

Your nerves are already shot, the tequila doing little to assist in qualming the nervous anxiety swirling through you. So when you finally hear her bedroom door open and her steps coming down the hall, you have to tilt the rest back in hopes that it will hit you a little more quickly.

She’s dressed cute, but comfortable, and you can tell she did her hair that special way that you’d complimented a few weeks ago. She smells like sweet sugary flowers mixed with the woodsy smell of rain, and just her scent as she approached you was already driving you insane.

You meet her in the middle of the kitchen, grabbing her hand to twirl her around into your embrace. “Happy birthday, gorgeous,” you mutter, your face falling into her hair for a second.

Her arms lift around your neck, squeezing just a little as she places the sweetest kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, Danny.” You allow yourself to hold her for just a second, your right hand gripping the wrist of your left at the back of her waist.

“You hungry?” You ask as you pull away from her.

“Yeah, whatcha making?” she replies, taking a seat at the island.

You grab the box of the frozen pizza you’d previously thrown in the oven, displaying it for her.

“Oh my god, my favorite!” she squeals. “I’m so excited.”

You laugh as you fold the box up, cramming it into the trash can. “Knew you would be. It’s not a five-star birthday meal, but. Let’s be honest. I can’t cook for shit, and you love this pizza more than you love a lot of things…”

“No, you’re so right. I’ve actually been craving it for a while,” she giggles.

“Wait, I also gotttttt….” You make your way to the fridge, pulling out the bottle of champagne.

“Shit, pizza and champagne? You know exactly how to make a girl happy, Daniel.” She blushes a little, and you know you’re on the right track for the night.

“You gotta open it, though. It’s bad luck if someone else opens the champagne bottle on your birthday,” you lie, scooting the bottle to her across the countertop.

“You’re crazy. Give it,” she rolls her eyes as she takes the bottle, twisting the key seven times and removing the wire casing. She stands from her chair, gripping the bottle in both hands as she searches for somewhere to aim.

“At the wall! Just not toward a window!” you warn, closing one eye as she begins to push on the cork. Finally it pops off, flying toward the wall as the bubbly pours from the neck of the bottle. “Get it, Y/N, get it!”

She cups her lips over the overflowing bottle, slurping up as much as she can before it flows into the floor. The two of you laugh as you bring two glasses over, letting her pour them up. Just then the timer for the pizza goes off, and the sound of the beeps reminds you that time is ticking, making your nerves rush for the main event.

——-

After stuffing yourselves with pizza and downing the bottle of champagne, the two of you are piled up on the couch sharing a six pack of some crazy peach flavored beer she’d bought last week.

You’re seated on the couch as she reclines across it, her legs in your lap. You’d talked a lot tonight, like more than you maybe ever have before. Sure, you’d been friends for many years now, but majority of the time, you’re surrounded by the other guys always intervening on your conversations, or interrupting your discussions.

But after three hours of deep exchange, you swear you could talk to her until the end of time, and never get tired of it. She looks natural with her bare, sunkissed legs draped across your lap, and your hand that’s mindlessly drifting over her thigh and knee looks like it belongs there.

Her drunken laughter bounces off the walls and right into your chest, making your entire self beam with happiness and adoration for her. The way she takes up space in the home you share gives you an inexplicable feeling. Roommates doesn’t even begin to describe what you want to title your living situation with her.

Your faces are blotched red and tears are falling from your eyes as the two of you come down from a laughing fit, and a sweet recovery silence falls over the both of you. Her eyes are bloodshot from the alcohol, and her face is flushed from the belly laughs.

“You’re really pretty, Danny,” she flits, making you whip your head her way.

“What?” you ask, embarrassed.

“You’re pretty. Well, you’re handsome, of course, but. You’re also pretty,” she explains, her words making you feel shy.

“Oh, thank you, Y/N. Don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before…” you respond. Your hand grips into her thigh a little bit as your head falls back onto the couch cushion. You meet her eyes, the both of you staring at each other while everything else in the room disappears. You hold the gaze for a long while, each passing second making your breathing pick up. Fuck, she makes you nervous.

Finally, she stands, pushing her hair back behind her ear as she reaches for you to take her hand. “Take me to bed, Danny…” she whispers.

Okay.

You slowly stand, keeping her hand in yours as she pulls you into the center of the room. Like magnets, your bodies are pulled into one another, your hands finding both of hers as you turn to walk her backwards down the hall to your room. You move in slow motion as the two of you glide across the wooden floors, taking your sweet, special time.

You take her chin between your fingers, and push her hair back again before leaning down to press your lips to hers. It’s gentle and sweet and slow, her lips parting only just a little bit as you guide her down the long hallway. You allow yourself the indulgence of her lips, the feeling of her tongue gently swiping across yours, the flavor of everything that she is. It’s all perfect, she’s perfect.

Her hands finally find your face and hair, entangling themselves like they always do, pulling you further into her. For this only being the sixth time you’ve done this, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to you. It doesn’t make any sense that you waste your time thinking about it, instead of giving her the loving that she deserves.

But you plan on showing her tonight. You may not be able to tell her, but damned if you can’t try your best to show her.

“Wait, I almost forgot,” you pause as you approach your bedroom door. “I’ll be right back. Stay here,” you command, squeezing her shoulders. “No peeking,” you whisper as you watch her eyelids close.

You’d already strategically placed her cake on the table in your room, with two forks and no plates. But the last finishing touch is the sporadically placed candles. You grab your lighter from your nightstand and light them one by one, watching as the flickering flames cast a warm glow across your walls. Perfect. Lastly, you place the 2 and 5 candles in the center of the cake, but wait to light them.

You slip back out into the hall, finding her still standing with her eyes closed. You grab her hands and pull her to walk toward you. “Keep them closed.”

Her smile lights up your entire world. “What are we doing, Danny? I’m scared…”

“Don’t be scared, babe. S’just me…”

You pull her inside, instructing her to sit down on the bed as you grab the cake and lighter. You balance it in one hand and flick the lighter with the other, lighting the wicks of both the number candles.

“Open your eyes.”

Her eyes flick open, finding the room completely illuminated with orange glow. “Ah, Danny…” she gasps, glancing around the room, and finally to the cake in your hands in front of her.

“Hm hm hmm hm hmmm hmm…” you hum the Happy Birthday song, your voice a bit shaky and jittery with nerves. “Don’t forget to make a wish,” you say, watching as her eyes flick to yours, then back to the cake in your hands. She closes her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, and blowing out the flames of her 25.

“You wanna know what I wished for?” she asks.

You shake your head. “No. But I hope it comes true.”

You set the cake down on your nightstand and you sit back down beside her on your bed. You bring her in close again, letting your forehead balance on hers before you make contact. You swear to it, you could get lost in kissing her more easily than you could get lost in a foreign country. You’d kissed her a hundred times before, but lately…now…

Things move slowly, things move sweetly…normally the two of you waste no time in ripping one another’s clothes off, biting and scratching and devouring each other like you’re starved, but tonight feels like it deserves more attention than that. It deserves to be appreciated.

Your hands drift to the bottom hem of her cream-colored eyelet lace dress, your hand drifting up her thigh. You pull the dress as you go, revealing her thong hugging her hip. Your hand slips below the waistband, and you run your fingers along it and down the front pantyline, the backs of your knuckles skimming across her heat. She whines a little at the contact, and you feel your vision growing blurry.

You continue kissing her while slowly letting your hands explore her in a way you’ve never let them before, taking special care to pay attention to your every move. The kiss becomes more longing when you let a digit slip into her folds, feeling her wetness coating your finger for the first time in six months. Her hands grip onto your shoulders, pulling your upper body into her. You push her back to lay on the bed, never once disconnecting your mouths.

Her left knee is bent into the air while the other one lies flat, so you push it to the side a little as your hand still hides in her panties. Her hand is yanking at the back of your hair as your featherlight touch drifts up and down, finally landing on her sweet spot. She cries quietly into your mouth when you land on it just right, using your middle finger to swirl her wetness across it.

She sits up a little, reaching to your back to pull your cotton t-shirt over your head. You disconnect for just a second to help her, and toss it to the floor. “Mmm there you are,” she mumbles, her hands rushing across the skin of your chest and arms while you go back to work.

You feel her legs spread, giving you the ok to move further. You let your two middle fingers dip inside of her to the hilt, her muscles already tight and twisting around you. “Fuck baby, you’re tight…” you pull away long enough to say. With your words she tightens around you on purpose, clenching herself as you begin pumping your hand in and out of her. You start to wonder if you’re the only one she’s slept with since December. Not that it’s any of your business, but, lately you’d decided that your feelings for her had gathered so heavily in your chest that that six month gap would be worth it, if it meant she could be all yours.

You watch her face in awe, suddenly feeling no ounce of shyness in the least in watching her come undone around your hand. Her bottom lip bites into her mouth as her eyelids flutter open and shut, and the sounds that escape from her lips make you realize how beyond ready for her you are.

You continue pumping your fingers in and out of her, feeling her drip down onto the bed sheets below you. “You wanna let go like this for me, baby?” you ask, having trouble keeping your breaths even.

“No. Yes, but no…” she concedes. “Wanna… want you…”

You smirk. “Go ahead, Y/N, we’ve got all night. You know how we are...” You take the opportunity to twist your fingers inside of her, turning your arm so that your palm is now pressed against her heat instead of perpendicular with it. You lean down and lick a stripe up the side of her neck as you leave your fingers buried deep, stopping the pumping altogether and instead wiggling the tips of your fingers against the spot deep inside her.

“Fuck Danny,” she breathes. “Keep it there keep it there…” Her eyes squeeze shut as you watch her chase her high, her hand squeezing at your pec and gripping onto it with everything she has.

It’s impressive really, how much you’d learned her body after just being with her a handful of times over the course of three years, learning her ins and outs and what drives her crazy for you, and stowing them away at the back of your mind until the next birthday.

You make quick and heady work of brushing your fingers across that spot, pressing your palm against her clit and adding just the right amount of circular pressure in both places. Her legs fall open even further and her head tilts back, all of her muscles tightening as she cries out, giving you her first orgasm of the night. And you had barely even removed any clothing yet.

When she’s done, you gather up her wetness and pull it onto her stomach under her dress, letting your middle finger massage it onto her skin. “Fuck…” she breathes out, wiping the hair from her face. “That didn’t take me long,” she laughs.

“No, it didn’t,” you agree, sitting up on the bed. “Must be excited to see me.”

She sits up and stands from the bed, pulling her flowy cream dress up over her hips and hiking one knee after the other across either side of you. You lean back away from her straddle, resting your arms back on the bed as you get a good look at her, already glowy. She reaches up and clasps her hands behind your neck. “Very excited to see you,” she admits shyly.

“Hm, really? You see me every day,” you poke, trying to feel out her level.

“Yeah but we can’t do this on random Tuesday afternoons, or in front of our friends, now, can we?” she presses, letting her hips fall onto your lap. You reach one finger to her chest and trail it up to under her chin, pulling her into you. Your heart begins pounding as you fall into a ravenous kiss again, this time bringing more heat than you even began to touch on a few minutes ago. Your hands fall to her waist, pulling her down onto you as she moves her knees to sit closer, pressing your chests together. Your hands travel across her thighs and to her waist, then finally around to grip her ass.

Though your tongue is burying itself deeply into her mouth, you’re metaphorically biting it. You want to tell her that yes, you do want to move things in another direction with her, you do want to hold her hand in front of your friends, you do want them to know how crazy you actually are for her. So in an act of boldness, you try.

“Maybe not in this regard, but they probably wouldn’t mind a little PDA…”

She giggles as she wraps her hands in your hair. “PDA? Like flirting with each other? In front of them?”

“Yeah, just like that. They already know we sleep together sometimes, they have to know we, ya know… are allowed to let it flow into days that aren’t our birthdays…” you swallow the words down, feeling so anxious that she may take them the wrong way, or hate them altogether.

“You think they’d make fun of us?” she asks, her mouth kissing behind your ear.

“Oh yeah, they would. But, I’d be there to slap the fuck out of them if they embarrass you,” you respond, squeezing your hands into her hips.

Her tongue is tickling the sensitive skin around your ear as she lays tiny pecks near your hairline. “I think I’d be okay with a little flirting… sometimes it almost happens naturally, anyway,” she says, making your heart rate soar again.

“Really?”

She nods, coming up to face you now, her cheeks tinted the palest pink. “Mmhm, sometimes I have to stop myself from touching you in front of them. You know, just innocently.”

You swallow hard, knowing the exact feeling all too well. When you’re surrounded by your friends making dinner or whatever it may be, you’ve found yourself having to stop your hand from grazing across her lower back as you walk by, from leaning down to kiss her cheek, anything, all the time. She’s right, it does feel natural to want to do that.

“I do, too, actually,” you admit. “You… It feels normal to me. Just a reflex.” You buck your hips up into her as you speak, your body begging you for some contact.

The whimper that leaves her chest ignites that deep carnal instinct inside you, wanting, needing to connect yourself with her again. You gather the soft fabric of her dress in your hands, signaling to her that you want to pull it off. She lifts her arms above her head, allowing you easy access to tear it all the way off of her. As her hair cascades back down over her shoulders you realize that her dress didn’t require a bra. So, you’re left staring at her left only in her thong, her breasts sitting more perfectly than you remember them. “You’re so gorgeous, Y/N, I swear…” you grit, raking over her body with your eyes.

She hops off of your lap, motioning with one finger for you to stand. When you follow her order, she falls to her knees, working her fingers to unbutton your jeans. “Fuck, wait,” you say. Her eyes glance up at you through her eyelashes. “Pull your hair back.”

She does as you say, pulling her hair into a ponytail at her neck while you undo your jeans with one swift movement. She gets done with her hair quickly, swatting your hand away and pulling your zipper down. “Take them all the way off, Danny,” she demands, and the backs of your knees hit the mattress as you lean over, kicking them and your underwear off one leg at a time. You kick them to the side as she walks on her knees closer to you, taking your already over-hard dick in her right hand, licking her lips just a little before she swirls her tongue around the tip. Everything had just happened really fast, her urgency making your blood pump. Her tongue flattened out against you, and she pressed you all the way to the back of her throat, almost making your knees buckle under you.

She grabs your hand, pulling it toward the back of her head. You take the signal and wrap your hand around her hair just as her lips meet your base, and you hold her there, feeling the saliva already beginning to pool in her mouth. “God damnit, baby, fuck you’re so good at this. Don’t even need my help…” You loosen your grip and allow her to drag her lips across your shaft, adding hard suction as she slowly ascends off.

“Want your help, though. Do it…” she motions, so you do. You use her ponytail to guide her up and down you, forcefully pushing and pulling on her head just like she likes it. The first time you did this, you were a bit thrown off, as you’ve always just let whoever was pleasing you do whatever they felt. But she likes it when you tell her when and where you want her to be.

The candles are physically heating up the air in the room, providing a heat that feels like a heavy blanket on your skin. Your mind flashes with remembering the special candles, and you feel a spark of excited electricity shoot through your body. The baby hairs around her face are beginning to stick to her forehead as her eyes glance up to look at you, doelike and pleading.

She hums onto your dick as you squeeze her cheeks together, taking a hard hold on her jawline as your opposite hand guides her motions. Your head falls back as you feel the knot tightening in your stomach, but you can’t let go just yet. Her tongue swirls around your tip and the sounds that her mouth is making sound downright ruthless, spurring on your albeit degraded current situation.

She moans onto you as her lips pull on and off, all by the force of your hand. You pull her hair particularly roughly, watching as the string of saliva connects her mouth to you, still. You take the second to sit down on the bed, physically unable to stand for another second without losing all will to hold yourself up. She moves in closer and digs her nails into the soft skin between your legs, sending a shake through your body. “Mother fucker baby, keep going with that…” you say, biting your bottom lip as you watch her. She scratches at your skin a few more times before you finally decide you can’t take it anymore, pulling and pushing on her head at a quicker pace.

“Mhmm…” she moans as she nods her head ‘yes’, and you feel the deep rumble in your stomach, telling you that you’re not far. She kisses her lips down tightly on you this time, flicking her tongue in all the right places as you feel her throat tightening around you.

“So fuckin’ deep baby, shit…” you say as your hips jut forward a few times, your dick hitting the back of her throat. Suddenly you feel your world falling apart as you let go into her, the dim orange light of the room turning into flashes of black and white as you send your streams down her throat. You wrap her hair around your hand as you hold her just where you want her, pulling her closely into you as you hiss through your release.

When you finally take a breath and your vision unblurs, you watch as she wipes her chin with the back of her hand, standing to her feet again and joining you on the bed, a completely smug and satisfied look on her face.

“The fuck are you grinning about, huh?” you ask, pulling her in toward you again.

“Nothin’, I just really love being the one to make you make noises like that,” she says, biting back another smile.

“Well, you’ve got me figured out, seriously,” you compliment her, and it was the absolute truth.

She shrugs you off. “Eh, I’m out of practice, really.”

Oh?

“No way, you’re like… well seasoned,” you kid.

“You dick!” she yells, stifling a laugh. “I haven’t even done that in six months.” You can tell she regretted saying it as soon as she did, suddenly avoiding your eyes and pulling one of your pillows up to cover her chest.

“...You’re kidding,” you breathe, truly in disbelief.

She shakes her head. “Lame, huh?”

“N-no, not lame. I–You haven’t, since…?” you stammer.

“Nope. Since your birthday. Go ahead, laugh at me all you want,” she says, motioning with her hand.

Her words hit you right in the gut. She hadn’t been with anyone since you…

“I’m not gonna laugh at you, Y/N. I… I actually haven’t been with anyone else, either.”

Her eyes meet yours in disbelief. “Really?”

You nod. “Not this time around.”

She sits for just a second, hugging the pillow to her. “Why not?”

You shrug, the nerves bubbling in your stomach. “I dunno, no one’s really…struck my interest. Not enough to bring back home, anyway.”

She pulls one shoulder up toward her ear. “Yeah, mine neither. I’ve…tried, ya know, but.” She swallows. “My birthday is my favorite holiday for a reason.”

You can’t stop the joy that rises in your chest, your extremities tingling and your heart beating in your ears as she basically admits she doesn’t enjoy anyone but you. She hasn’t made it work with anyone else in six months.

“Six months is a long time to wait, Y/N,” you mutter quietly.

She pulls the pillow down, moving closer to you on the bed. “Not when what you’re waiting for is all you can ever think about.”

Fuck… it feels like your head is going to float right off of your shoulders out of a pure high at her admission. Your chest gets warm and your mouth goes dry, and you swear if you were looking in the mirror, there would be stars in your eyes.

She feels the same.

After a few seconds of disbelief, you find the nerve to answer her, a hardly audible whisper as you bring your face close to hers. “I think I’d wait for you for fifty years, if you wanted me to…”

Her hand cups your jawline as she grits her teeth, pulling you into her again. Your mouth wants to devour her all over again, but instead you take note of the tender moment, laying a sweet kiss to her lips that has a promise behind it.

Her eyebrows furrow together when you pull away, a look you’re familiar with but also one that told you she’s confused. She opens her mouth to speak, probably to ask you if what you’d just said is true. But nothing comes out. She just stares at you in disbelief.

Your hand finds her hip as you yank her body in with a little force, almost nose to nose now.

“Yeah, you heard me right. I’d wait for you, I will wait for you, if that’s what you want me to do…” you say, feeling so anxious for the outcome of this conversation you could almost be sick. It’s either going to end really really well, or so badly that you’d end up alone in bed tonight. But the risk outweighs the outcome, and you are ready and prepared to take it, whatever it might be.

She swallows hard as you watch her eyes become glazed. Her hands are balancing around your neck and across your shoulders, and you can feel the heat rising in her palms as her digits nervously fidget. It feels like a hundred years pass in the time you wait for her to respond, and you contemplate taking it all back. Making up an excuse, saying just kidding, we’re just friends… But the panic stops as soon as she finds her words.

She shakes her head. “Wait for me… you’d, you wanna actually…?”

“Be with you more than just twice a year? Yeah, Y/N, I really would. You– you kinda have held a really special place for a long, long time now.” You swallow again, letting the words you’ve kept pent up for so long finally flow, but still feeling a little embarrassed by the admission. “I just never said anything, ya know, because of our arrangement. It worked so well for us but. I… I don’t know. It feels like more to me, lately.”

She nods hard again, a tiny smile crossing her lips as her eyes stay trained on yours. But she stays quiet.

“Can you say something, Y/N?” you ask through a huffed laugh.

“It is more, Danny. It’s been more to me for a long time, too. You take up more space in my mind than I’d like to admit,” she says, now avoiding eye contact.

Wow… finally. Finally, there it is.

“Why do we both deny it?” you whisper.

She shrugs, massaging the back of your neck. “I don’t know. But I don’t really want to anymore.”

You wrap your arm around her torso, pulling her weight from underneath her as you lay her flat on her back.

“Then we don’t,” you say as you tower over her, the candle light flickering in her eyes and off of her skin. Her body is beautiful, there’s no denying that, but what has always gotten you is how she carries herself…how her body language is always reflective of exactly what she’s feeling in the moment. And right now, as her midsection arches up into you begging you to touch her again, you have no other thoughts than to appease her.

Your mouth travels down her chest and across her belly, leaving long, lingering kisses across her body. As you get closer and closer to her heat, you move to kneel on the floor just as she had for you earlier, slipping your hands underneath her to pull her to the edge. Even in all your wild, drunken sexual adventures with her, for some reason, you’d never concentrated on this. You’d never gone down on her. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, as it was one of your favorite activities, but the immediate pull to one another on these nights always ended up with getting straight to the good part. Neither of you really ever left time for the embellishments.

She perks up onto her elbows as she gazes at your face between her legs. “Danny…”

“Let me show you what I mean, baby,” you more ask than say, running your tongue down the inside of her thigh. Her body stiffens as she still gives you that look of hesitation. Your tongue drifts over her opening as you tease her, barely ghosting overtop of everywhere but her sweet spot. She shudders again. “Unless you don’t want me to…”

“No! No I want you to. Please. You’ve just…” she finally relaxes her head back down.

“I know I haven’t. And that’s on me. But I wanna show you that I’ve been thinking about this, doing just this since the last time I had you…” you explain, finally delving your tongue deeply into her. Her reaction is immediate, her back arching up again as her hands find your hair. The sounds she makes make you strain to keep it together, and the taste of her finally on your tongue is enough to make you want to stop altogether, and get to the good part, but you savor this instead, realizing you’ve wanted her like this for so long.

You squeeze your lips over her, inching your tongue languidly inside of her and moving it back up to circle her clit. When you finally find it, she squeals, exhaling as her hands rip into your scalp. You glance to the head of the bed, pulling down a pillow and positioning it underneath her back to get a better angle. Your hands snake under her again, squeezing her ass as you pull her in.

“Fuck Danny, why did you hold back on this for so long?” she asks through a pant, her legs opening and closing over your ears. “Shit…” You realize that you don’t really have an answer.

She’s writhing and fighting herself, and you can tell she’s nearing the peak, until she backs off again, likely wanting to make this last. She hums and purrs as you work over her clit, using your tongue and lips to kiss every single drenched inch of her. You feel like you can’t get enough, until you remember. Her birthday gift.

You slow things down, pulling away a bit until you see the disgruntled look on her face at the disconnect. “No, don’t stop… don’t go..” she begs. Her expression is desperate, and you want nothing more than to feel her lose herself at the mercy of your mouth. So you dive back in, this time with a purpose.

“‘M not goin’ anywhere, baby,” you manage through kneads of your tongue against her. You bring your arm up between the two of you, using your elbow and hand to press her legs apart while your free hand’s two middle digits enter her again. Your tongue never lets up, circling and swirling furiously as her muscles tense. You take that as your cue to work harder, feeling her clenching around your hand already. You pump in and out of her again, making sure your tongue is pointed exactly where she needs it.

“Fuck, Danny baby… yes…” she breathes, and the pet name sends a shockwave straight to your dick, hearing her utter your name followed by a word so personal. You cup your lips over her clit, using a quick and harsh suction motion as you flick your tongue across it.

When she finally lets go, her cries and slurs of curses echo through your room, the most beautiful sound you’re sure you’ve ever heard. Her hands stay tangled in your locks, forcing your face into her as close as you can get. You savor it all, the sight, the sound, the taste… you wonder why you ever denied yourselves this piece of the puzzle after all this time, but then again, maybe saving something this intimate for right now is exactly what was supposed to happen.

Her body jolts and shakes as she lets the pleasure wrack through her, and you devour every last bit. You crawl up her once she opens her eyes again, her hand freeing from your hair and back down to your face, pulling across your cheeks and mouth as she wipes her wetness from you. Her voice is strained as she finally speaks. “Fuck that was…”

“Fucking delicious,” you finish, pressing your lips to hers again, making her nod into you.

“Yeah, fucking delicious,” she agrees, wrapping her legs around you and using the leverage to pull you onto her. If you weren’t rock hard before, you surely are now after witnessing her falling apart for you like that. You can tell she’s already ready to get things going again, but you stop her, pulling away like you had done before. You stand from the bed, watching that same look of disappointment come across her features.

“Don’t look at me like that, just wanna give you your birthday gift,” you say, walking around the bed to your nightstand. You grab the cake and place it carefully into your lap, grabbing the lighter again as she comes and sits beside you.

“I already blew out my candles, Danny,” she says, balancing her chin on your shoulder.

“You did, but I didn’t tell you that these are special candles. Not meant to be blown out,” you explain, flicking the lighter to life and igniting them both.

“Not meant to be blown out? Why–”

“Because they’re really an oil,” you say, putting the lighter down and grabbing the plastic tray under the cake again, holding it up between you. “These are candles specially made for us to let melt and drip onto each other. Not like regular wax, these don’t burn as hot. Once they start to melt a little, they turn into a body oil.”

“Like a massage oil?” she asks, and you nod.

“Mmhm, see, you can already smell the lavender and bergamot. They had birthday cake scented, but. I thought that might be overkill,” you smirk. Her eyes drift down to the candles with intrigue, and she bites her bottom lip in. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But, I’ve heard good things…”

She picks up one of the candles from the cake, carefully licking the icing off the bottom. She holds her opposite hand out palm down, and lets the melty wax oil drip down onto the back of her hand, a few droplets of dark red liquid dripping down between her fingers.

“Doesn’t burn at all,” she says, reaching to grab the cake from you to set on the table again. She then takes your hand, letting the wax drip down onto your hand, too.

The sensation is more of an extremely warm electrical pulse than the burn you’d expect, and it quickly dulls as the oil cools. It doesn’t harden like normal wax, instead it just turns into a thick oil. You take your other finger and rub it across your skin, feeling the softness of the lotion-like liquid sink into your skin. “Wow, no, it feels good,” you agree.

“Lay back,” you suggest, and she does, handing the candle off to you.

You question the situation, not knowing exactly where to drip the oil to make her feel the best. You assume maybe her chest and stomach, maybe even down her legs, if she feels up to it. You hold the candle directly above her sternum, raising your eyebrows in final question before you let it drip.

“Yeah, go ahead,” she says, her hand landing on your knee.

The red liquid finally falls through the air, a singular drop that lands and splatters across her chest. Her mouth opens just a little, but then her surprise quickly turns into a devious smirk. “Feel good?” you ask.

“Aha, yeah, actually. It burns pretty bad for a split second but it goes away…shit, do more,” she pleads.

You go along with her request, drizzling tiny drops between her breasts and down her stomach, nearly completely coating her in the oily liquid.

“You sure you like it?” you ask as you watch her face repeatedly turn from a surprised grimace into a devilish look of satisfaction. Thankfully, that second look, you’re more than familiar with.

“Yessss…” she hisses as another drop falls onto her skin. “I feel so…” her mouth lies open as you continue letting the oil drip and pool, the floral scent filling your nostrils.

“So what?” you ask.

Her eyes bore into yours as she bites her lips between her teeth, her hand still gripping hard into your leg muscle. “I like the pain. It’s like… I don’t know how to explain it…” she breathes. “Like a sensation I don’t want to ever end.”

You take your free hand and gently massage it in, taking time to work over her nipples and stomach. “God, that feels so good…” she whispers, her hand now digging into the muscle of your thigh. You place the candle back on the cake, turning to pay special attention to rubbing your hands over her muscles.

The heady scent of the oils mixed with the residual alcohol still flowing through your system brings a whole new dizziness to the atmosphere, and you feel as though the whole situation is only becoming heavier. You reach over to your phone sitting on the night stand, and flip your music to some psychedelic playlist. The distorted guitar and scratchy bass sounds bring you both to a new plane, and you take the moment to recognize the woman you have your hands on, and how she feels underneath them.

Her eyes flutter open and closed as your hands drift, massaging the soft oils across the mountains and valleys of her body. “You want me to do you?” she asks, eyes flicking back to the candle.

You shake your head. “No, shh. It’s your birthday, just relax.”

She smiles a little as she gets comfortable again, moving her body a little closer to yours on the bed. Your hands travel up her shoulders and neck, slowly kneading the tense muscles. Then you move on to her hips and waist, squeezing at the thickness of her. You feel yourself getting turned on all over again just by touching her this way. You watch as her hands drift across the tops of her legs, gripping at her own thighs. The visual is almost too much, watching as her fingertips pull at her skin. You reach to grab the still-lit candle, adjusting your body to sit beside her legs.

“‘M gonna try your legs, that okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, go ahead…” she mumbles, her eyes still rolling around behind her eyelids. You move between her legs and let the wax drip onto her inner thighs, not really caring if any lands on your comforter. “Ffff…” she hisses, biting onto her bottom lip. Her face contorts from pain to pleasure as the oil cools, and you replace the candle, making your way back to massaging her.

Your hands nearly cover the entirety of her upper thighs, your fingertips digging into the skin just as hers had done a second ago. You push the oil all around, paying special attention to start at her knees, and slowly work your way up. You have half a mind to lick into her again, seeing it now from this view, but you stop yourself. Your thumbs rub into the creases where her legs meet her heat, and she practically moans out at your touch.

“You’re being such a fuckin’ tease, Daniel,” she says, her hands cupping her breasts.

“Mmm, I don’t think you understand how hard it is to stop myself right now…” you huff.

She bites her lips again and shakes her head side to side, obviously feeling the same emotions as you. This doesn’t feel like it normally does, and you feel more anxiety than ever to satisfy her. You watch as she reaches her hands for you, signaling for you to get things going.

“Don’t stop yourself then,” she stutters, her voice almost shuddering. Her hand grips into your hair again and pulls you up, your hands crawling up either side of her as her nails claw and pull at your back.

Suddenly your mind finds itself again as you remember to grab protection. You balance your forehead on her sternum, both of you already panting and sweaty as you pull yourself away to reach for your bedside drawer.

“No, just—it’s fine,” she says, grabbing onto your arm.

You meet her with a puzzled look, not quite understanding that she’s changing her mind on a whim. This is one part of your agreement that you both have always stuck to.

“What? I’m—“

“Just…it’s fine. Don’t get it,” she says, giving you a look that could kill. “It’s been six months…right…”

You think it over, rolling the thought over and over in your mind. “You sure?”

She nods, “Yeah, yeah I’m sure. I’m…we’re good. I promise.”

You feel your heart growing in your chest, feeling a new wave of anxiousness and…something else bubbling up. It’s almost blinding you to even think about what’s about to take place, this already feels so different than before.

The slick of the oil across your chests make your bodies slide against one another as you line yourself up, both hands on either side of her head. Her hands gently drift across your hips, a devilish smirk sneaking across her lips.

“Gonna feel you for real for the first time…” she says gently, looking more excited than you’d seen her in ages.

“Yeah, no pressure,” you answer, pressing yourself through her folds. The sensation alone is making you quake, feeling her against you without a barrier.

“What, you nervous or something?” She asks, digging her nails into your scalp.

You clench your jaw, feeling the tip enter her just a little bit. “Kinda.”

“Daniel…shut up. No you’re not.”

“I swear,” you reply, pressing in just a little more. “Different now, like this.” You feel your heart beating from your ribcage.

Her hands grip behind you, pulling you in towards her, but you hold back. “S’okay, just me… please…” Her legs lift and her ankles cross at your lower back.

You push forward, telling yourself it’s okay to fill her all the way to the hilt. It’s now or never, and you’ve waited so long for this, wanted her for real for so long. You make sure to watch her face as you bottom out, taking in every single detail that you can.

HER POV

It’s almost dreamlike…

The dim and comforting glow of the room, the sweet scented oil that’s relaxed your muscles, the dying feeling of excitement from the gift Danny had gotten you…

But mostly, the feeling of his body towering over you and buried as deeply as he can get, finally without the use of protection.

You’d been wanting Danny for real for longer than you’d like to admit, now, and now that it’s finally happening, it’s almost as if you couldn’t have dreamt it up any better. Of course he feels nervous…you do too. Something in the air has shifted, and it’s not just because you both had finally admitted to wanting more than your predisposed agreement.

“Fuck, Danny…” you can’t help but yelp in a pitiful high-pitched squeal. Feels just like you always thought, but somehow better.

Much, much better.

He begins to pick up a pace after you lock your ankles against him harder, forcing his hips to find a rhythm. “You good?” he asks, almost shyly.

“Yeah, better than good, shit…”

His left hand grips your jaw with a little force before he brings his lips to yours in a heated mess. His thrusts are working in perfect time, hitting you in just the right spot to tighten the knot deep inside you already.

“You feel so perfect baby…god, never thought I’d have you like this…” his lips are hot against your skin as he speaks, his teeth nipping at your sensitive spots every few seconds.

“Leave a mark, baby… gimmie a reminder…” you breathe into his ear, making the light nips on your chest switch into slightly painful lovebites that you’re positive you’ll be able to see turn into bright red marks tomorrow. He growls into your skin as his teeth sink in just enough to make you squirm beneath him.

Though the room is flickering with a tangerine glow, the multicolored vibrance of the light flashing behind your eyes brings a whole new depth to what you’re experiencing, an overwhelming feeling of unwarranted pleasure that is undoubtedly ripping you apart at the seams. He’s all you’ve ever wanted, better than anything you’ve ever felt, and he’s been living under the same roof as your best friend for way too long.

You can tell he’s getting closer by the tumbling of his thrusts, but you swear you never want it to end. The euphoria taking over your mind is making you dizzy.

Suddenly he slows down a little bit, rolling himself to the bed but keeping himself inside as he plucks you to straddle his lap. Your hands find his pecs as you begin swirling your hips, feeling him at a completely different angle, now. His curls are laid out behind him on the white blankets, and his chest is gleaming from the oils.

You begin bouncing on him, his hands gripping into the thick muscle of your thighs as you grind on him. His head leans back, his jaw moving between hanging open and clenching tightly. “Y/N, shit…I’m not gonna be…”

You can feel the twist in your stomach, the deep tightening letting you know that you are close, too. You lean down and press a slow and needing kiss to his lips, showing him all the emotion that’s currently coursing through your body in the act. “Me too baby, just do it. Want to feel you…” you stammer through the ravaging feeling of your impending orgasm. You squeeze him hard, sending you both over the edge, tumbling down together in a flustered mess of echoed praises for one another.

He stays buried inside you for just a few seconds as you both come down, neither of you wanting to be the first to speak when you finally catch your breath. After a minute of silence, you let yourself come out of the cloudy bliss, sliding yourself up and off of him.

As soon as your body hits the bed beside him, he’s craning over you again, gathering you up into his arms into the most loving embrace you’d felt from him yet.

“Every six months isn’t gonna work for me anymore, Y/N…” he admits, fully submitting himself with an honest look in his eye. “I just…”

“Me neither, Danny. It’s not enough. Won’t ever be enough,” you admit, taking his face in your hands. And it was true, after experiencing him tonight in the way that you did, there was no way you’d ever be able to wait for him again. There’s too much emotion involved that you’ve both been hiding for too long. Too much still yet to explore.

“Stay, please? And not just for tonight,” he whispers, his thumb gliding across your cheek.

You nod. You know there’s nothing on this earth you want more than to wake up every day next to him…the friend who has always been just a little bit more.

“Okay,” you concede, sliding your body into his.

“Okay? Yeah?” He asks with an excited lilt.

“Yes. I’m not going anywhere,” you respond. “Couldn’t leave you if I wanted to...”

The low chuckle that rumbles through his chest and onto your cheek pressed against it feels so longingly familiar that you wonder why you ever thought it wouldn’t work out to begin with. “What took you so long?” he asks, wrapping and squeezing you hard.

“Could ask you the same…” you laugh into his chest.

You fall asleep with him that night a different woman than the one you were when you walked into his room, and not just because you’re a year older, now. You’d finally gotten everything you’d ever wanted.

Danny nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, sleep already lacing his voice. A soft feeling of comfort washes over you as you realize how safe and protected you feel in his arms, and how you aren’t too shy to admit that this feels more right than you could have ever anticipated.

Now you won’t have to wait six months to share your love with him again. You’ll be able to share it with him tomorrow, over coffee in the kitchen.

He presses a sweet kiss to your temple as you let the heaviness of sleep overtake you, already falling into a dazed place of complete contentment.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

Taglist:

@wetkleenex-gvf @britney-gvf @gretas-sweat @josh-iamyour-mama @highway-tuna @bestfriendsallstrungout @jjwasneverhere @gretavanbrie @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @myleftsock @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @jjsooobsessed @ageofcj @starcatcher-jake @capnjaket @cozyjakey @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @stardustjake @dancingcarbon @builtbybrokenbells @gretavangroupie

270 notes · View notes

minnophee-writes · 11 months

Text

Right Where You Were Meant To Be

Fandom: Avengers [Marvel]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size Reader

Summary: The reader has a crush on Bucky the second she looked at him but she also has feelings of self-consciousness about her body and doubts she’d ever end up with Bucky or any guy like Bucky. That all changes one night at one of Tony’s parties.

Word Count: 2,760 words

A/N: This is a cute little one-shot idea I had and just wanted to write out. I feel there aren’t many plus-size!reader stories so I wanted to make my own. I’m a chubby girl and felt like I needed some love, lmao. Any mistakes I take responsibility for, this story wasn’t beta read, so I apologize for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!! <3 <3 <3 [edit: this is an old fanfic lol]

It all started when you looked at him for the first time. He had just moved into the Tower, and you had just gotten the job as Tony's new assistant since Pepper had become CEO of Stark Industries. Because you worked in an environment with superheroes who were very fit and healthy, you had become self-conscious of yourself; whether it would be what you wore, the things you ate, or just how your body looked in general.

Being a bigger girl, it often took a toll on your mental health when you would notice the glances, the whispering, the judgmental stares, and how shopping for clothes in your size was difficult, and it made you feel like you had to lose weight to fit in and belong. You felt alone and isolated.

You didn't have any friends; you didn't even talk to many of your co-workers, and just kept to yourself a majority of the time. When Bucky moved in, you noticed he did the same. He didn't speak much to the rest of the team, he mostly stayed in his room, and only hung around Steve. Bucky was very fit, and his muscular body showed it whenever he wore tight-fitted clothing. You would never wear tight-fitted clothing for fear of having your plumpness accentuated.

After five months working for Tony and having a more friendly relationship with the rest of the team, you had built a few close bonds with some of the heroes. Wanda and Natasha were your closest girlfriends and would regularly have 'Lady's Nights' every Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Tony, Clint, Sam, and Steve were like your older brothers and would look out for you.

You and Steve made it a routine to do small exercise and yoga in the afternoons just after 4 o'clock. How this all started was because you wanted to accomplish small goals for yourself, as Sam told you to do to help with your mental health.

"Steve," You called out as you stepped into the Tower's gym, the one place you knew where to find Steve if he wasn't in the common room.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)! What's up?" Steve turned to face you as he held the punching bag still while he watched you walk closer to him, noticing you fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

"I just... I wanted to start doing light exercises, you know, to boost my endorphins, and so I have something to do in the afternoons when I've finished with work." It wasn't a complete lie, but it just sugar-coated the fact that you just wanted to lose weight to gain confidence in yourself.

Steve had agreed to help you; he wouldn't push you too much either because he didn't want you to strain anything and not push you out of your comfort zone too much. Both of you would exercise for an hour each day in the afternoons. This routine had been going on for six weeks, and you were enjoying it. You felt better about yourself each week when you would check your progress and write down how much you lost during the week; you were more confident than you were all those weeks ago before asking Steve for help.

During one of those afternoon exercises, you and Steve were both in the Adho Mukha pose with Steve wearing his usual tight t-shirt, that you swore was a size too small, and shorts while you wore a loose, black tank top, and tight-fitted leggings that complemented the shape of your plump ass. You were so in the zone that you hadn't heard the gym doors open and the sound of footsteps coming closer to you. Bucky stood behind you and Steve, him getting an eyeful of your butt while he cleared his throat to catch his best friend's attention.

"Hey, Bucky! I didn't notice you were there. (Y/N) and I were doing some yoga, would you like to join us?"

You. Were. Mortified. You quickly stood up beside Steve and looked down at your feet, trying to avoid looking at Bucky after having your ass practically in his face.

"Uh, I kinda have to get ready for 'Girl's Night' tonight, but I think Bucky can keep you company." You nervously spoke, having your words jumble out quickly due to your inner-embarrassment. "I'll see you later, Steve!"

You bolted out of the gym as fast as your legs could go and made it up into your room without another incident. When you flopped onto your bed, you let out a loud, exhausted sigh before closing your eyes shut tightly. 'Why did I have to act like a nervous wreck? You didn't even let him talk for Christ's sake!' After beating yourself up over the little incident, you started to get ready for 'Girl's Night' with Nat and Wanda.

~~~~~~

It was two hours into 'Girl's Night' and you, Nat and Wanda had, at least, drank four glasses of Kraken Rum and about three shots of Vodka. You were more relaxed and carefree, enjoying your time with your best friends while gossiping about an episode of Criminal Minds you all saw the other day together.

"Not gonna lie, I would love to have a man like Morgan. Have you seen his muscles? And how he kicks down doors like a badass?" You gushed.

"That is true, and I fully believe Morgan and Garcia should be together. They have chemistry and look so cute!" Wanda loved her Morgan and Garcia ship.

"Eh, I like to have a super cute genius but that's just my opinion" Nat took a sip of her fruity vodka drink while shrugging her shoulders.

"Of course you would, you're with Bruce and that's a little bias, Nat." You gently shoved your red-haired friend playfully.

You and Wanda giggled like school girls when Natasha scoffed before she pointed an accusing finger at you.

"Well, says you, (Y/N)! You practically drool whenever you see Barnes."

That shut you up quickly. 'How does she know?! Play it off...'

"That's very funny Nat, but I don't know what you mean."

"Don't bullshit me, (Y/N). I've seen the way your cheeks get all pink and how your eyes are glued to him whenever he walks by. You're so smitten it's grossly cute." Then Wanda turned to you with a small smirk on her face.

"Maybe you should ask him to work out with you and Steve!"

Flashbacks of your embarrassment earlier that day made your face go pale. 'Absolutely not'. You shook your head furiously, staring at your two friends with fear. There was no way you'd have the guts to do such a thing, not after how you acted around him before. Plus, you didn't want him to look at you with disgust when he looks at you working out. You shake off all the negative thoughts before finishing off your last bits of rum.

"I think I'm going to head off to bed now, gotta wake up early tomorrow. Tony wants me to help him organize and plan a gala party to celebrate his newest project. And when I say to 'help him' I mean I'll be doing most of the work while he hides away in his lab with Bruce." You said before walking off and waving the girls goodbye.

2 weeks later...

You had most of the gala planned out. You had booked a cute catering company to organize some food dishes for everyone and even hired a group of people to decorate one of the large common rooms that would fit all the guests on Tony's guest-list. You had even bought a cute new dress to wear for the party. The party was starting that night at 7:30 and you would hopefully get everything done while having an hour and a half to spare to get ready.

When the decorating and planning finished, you quickly made your way to your room and got showered and changed. You stood in front of your mirror for quite some time, nitpicking every flaw you could see, judging your appearance because you knew how the other women at the party were going to look flawless and have every man swooping in for them. A sudden knock on your door snapped you out of your negative thoughts.

"(Y/n), you ready?" Wanda's voice called from the other side.

"Y-yeah! I'm coming now." You dashed for the door to get away from the mirror so you can't put yourself down even more. Once opening the door, Wanda linked your arm with hers, and both of you walked toward the elevator.

Telling FRIDAY which floor, you both arrived just as a few of the guests were mingling around; drinking, eating, and chatting. You glanced around, hoping to see the familiar faces of your friends, spotting Sam, Nat, and Clint near the bar where Natasha was serving the drinks. Tony was standing next to Pepper and being an absolute flirt as always while Steve and Bucky were standing near a corner with drinks in hand. Before you could make your way over to the bar, Wanda told you to wait where you were while she goes to quickly touch up her make-up, disappearing before you could say a word. You stood there awkwardly and looked around, making sure everything was going swimmingly until you felt a presence behind you. A tap on your confirmed that someone was indeed behind you.

You turned around to see a group of two slender women and three muscular men staring at you with smug and cocky smiles on their faces.

"Can we get some more drinks? And make them with a little more alcohol this time." One of the men quirked an eyebrow, waiting for you to scurry off to grab their drinks.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not part of catering. I'm-"

"You certainly look it though, I mean, you're not dressed like you're here as a guest. The dress you're wearing looks like the other catering staff." A woman spat, her eyes narrowed at you. You started to feel self-conscious about your outfit now, realizing the color-scheme looked very similar to the catering staff.

"Plus, the dress isn't that flattering for your body hun. We can practically see your muffin top and panty lines with how tight that dress is on you." The other woman commented while she leaned to the side to glance at more of your plush figure.

A stinging sensation began to appear behind your eyes, feelings of doubt, and an anxiety attack began to make themselves known. So looked away from the group and quickly made for the elevator, shooting Wanda a quick text saying you weren't feeling too well. 'How stupid of me to think I even looked good or that I could fit in at the party.' By the time the elevator doors reached your floor and the doors opened, hot tears were falling down your cheeks as you tried to furiously wipe them away with zero results. The tears kept flowing down as you began to walk down the hallway to your room; quiet footsteps barely making noise as they followed you. Just as your hand settled on the door handle, a warm hand clasped onto your shoulder gently. With a yelp, you spun around with a jump to look at your "attacker", only to find a pair of stormy blue eyes staring at your teary eyes intensely.

Bucky's eyes held hints of concern and worry, but it was hard to see because he was good at hiding his emotions, and the fact that your eyes were blurry from crying.

"You okay, (Y/n)? I saw you leave the party quickly and noticed how fast your breathing was." Bucky had to look down at you because he was so tall, or was it because you were just very short?

"I'm fine, Bucky. I just don't do well in crowded places or with so many strangers. I got a bit overwhelmed but it's fine now." You weakly smiled but he could see right through it, he always did.

"You had a panic attack after speaking to a group of people and judging by the looks they gave you while talking to them, I can only believe it wasn't a pleasant conversation." Bucky then brought both his flesh and metal hands to cup your face while he peered into your eyes more. "Tell me what happened, doll."

You sighed, you knew he wasn't going to let this go. Even though you both barely spoke to each other, he still cared for you like the both of you knew each other for years. Something about his calm voice and caring nature helped your nerves settle.

"They thought I was part of catering and asked if I could get them more drinks. I told them I wasn't catering, only for them to make snarky comments about my outfit and body. But it's fine, I'm used to having those comments made to me, I've dealt with those types of people all my life." Your hands gently held his and tried to move them away from your face but Bucky didn't budge.

"You don't believe them, right? I mean, I think the dress looks good on you. It shows off your curves and any man who doesn't get blown away is blind."

You gave a humorless laugh and shook your head at Bucky, looking down at the floor.

"You're just saying that to be nice to me, Buck. We both know girls like me don't belong in a place like this, or a party like that. You can go back to the party, I don't want to waste more of your time." You went to turn away when Bucky held your upper arms tightly.

"Not a chance, doll. I'm not a fan of crowds myself and was about to leave the party myself until I saw you run away. I'd rather spend my time with you and making sure you don't ever think that you don't belong."

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, his stare was intense with adoration and love while you stared at him in shock that he'd want to spend time with you. Before you could blink, Bucky leaned down and you felt his soft lips on yours, his arms wrapping around you and caging you into a warm and gentle embrace. Your hands rested onto his firm chest while his hands rested on your lower back, just above your butt. At first, you were in shock but then you gave in to the kiss and snaked your arms around his neck, your fingers embedded into his long hair.

The kiss was full of passion, and so much love that you didn't think it was possible. When the need for air was too much, you both separated and looked into each other's eyes once again.

"H-how? Why me? We barely know each other!"

"Because, (Y/n), I've been smitten for you since I first laid eyes on you but didn't have the guts to tell you. Steve's been a punk and trying to get me to join your work out sessions for weeks but I was too nervous to do it." Bucky's cheeks tinted red as he chuckled.

"And why's that? I was scared that if saw me working out, that you'd be grossed out by my body." You explained, chewing on your bottom lip.

"I could never be grossed out, sweetheart. I love a woman with curves and plumpness to her. I was nervous that if I watched you work out, I would try to make a move on you too fast and scare you away. I didn't want that to happen." Bucky grabbed your chin and leaned in again, his lips almost touching yours. "And you looked downright sexy in those tights, they shape your ass well."

You gasped and lightly smacked his shoulder while he smirked at you. His playfulness coming through. You made the first move this time and got onto your tippy toes to kiss him. It was quicker than the first but still held the same emotions. With so much strength you underestimated he had, Bucky lifted you up - your legs wrapped around his waist - as he opened your door and carried you over to your bedroom. Both of you watched a bunch of movies in your room; many kisses were shared before you both passed out, cuddled up under your fluffy blankets, safe in Bucky's arms.

Right where you were meant to be all along.

#minnophee writes #fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #plus size reader #plus size girl #curvy #chubby #marvel #marvel fanfic #avengers #fluffy fanfic #x reader #x reader fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fanfic #bucky barnes x reader

419 notes · View notes

clarisse0o · 1 month

Text

Camp Wiegman-Part 49

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————-

Monday, February 8th; 11:45 AM - In class.

Returning to reality is hard. I'm bored to death with these classes. If Lucy saw me, she'd probably lecture me for slouching over my desk trying to follow this pointless lesson. I wish we could have extended our weekend. It was so much more enjoyable, even with the little incident Feli caused on Saturday night. I keep thinking about it. Lucy was so sweet to me from beginning to end. I was so worried, but now I regret that the weekend was too short. Plus, seeing my brother again was such a joy. It broke my heart when it was time to leave. He didn’t want to let us go, and he even cried. I felt sorry for Hector, who had to stay with him. Luckily, the holidays are coming soon. We have just one more week. I’m eagerly looking forward to it, so much so that I feel like these next few days are going to drag on. It’s well known that excitement tends to slow down time. If all goes well, I'll spend those two weeks with Lucy. The first week is certain, since we'll be going to the Alps with her friends. She told me she'd handle the planning with Ingrid during the day.

- "You seem lost in thought," Alessia murmurs. "Is everything okay?"

- "Yeah," I say, sitting up and giving her a shy smile.

I’ve never felt so good. Of course, I still have problems, but the biggest ones are now resolved. My smile fades for a moment as I recall the events of last week. With everything that happened, I haven't had the chance to speak to my friends since the cafeteria incident. I did check in with Alexia via text, but that was it. I got bombarded with questions this morning. If I had at least had one meal with them, I could have avoided this situation. But I don’t regret eating with Lucy. I was still too shaken to be around other students. Coming back to school this morning reminded me why I wasn't ready for that. The students made me the center of attention. I hated it. My friends told me that a bunch of rumors had spread after the fight. The first was about Korbin getting expelled, but for me, it was a different story. The students thought I was in the hospital, considering the beating I took. The scene in the cafeteria must have been something for them to think that. After hearing all this, I’m not surprised everyone is staring at me. Sure, I still have a few marks, but everything’s healing pretty well, thanks to Lucy’s weekly care.

- "I wanted to apologize," I said.

- "For what?"

- "For being radio silent until today. I shouldn't have worried you. To be honest, I didn't expect you to be so concerned."

- "You're our friend; it's normal to worry."

- "Yeah, but you know, except for Mapi, I was never close to many people. But now that I have you guys, it’s… I don’t know. I’m glad to have you."

- "We’re glad to have you too," she smiles. "Just don’t leave us without news next time. We saw you Thursday morning, so we knew you were okay, but we still wondered why you were absent the next day."

- "I promise, next time I'll let you know."

I return her smile. I've grown closer to them, so I can’t shy away now. I’m relieved when the bell rings right after our conversation. I hope the rest of the week doesn’t pass as slowly as this half-day. I’ll die of boredom otherwise. My only motivation is that I’ll see Lucy every evening since we’ll be sharing her room again this week. She told me she’d be busy these next five days, so I’ll have to make do with our evening classes and nights together. I hope I can manage. She’s been my support these past few days, and I already feel lost without her by my side. In the meantime, I content myself with my friends. Specifically, Alessia. She’s telling me all about what I missed last week, and her stories are pretty funny. I stop laughing, though, when we run into Lucy walking in the opposite direction just as we’re about to leave the building. I step aside to avoid getting in anyone’s way.

- "Hey," I say with a smile, happy to see her.

My smile fades when I realize she’s not looking at me. Her attention is focused on Alessia beside me, and she’s giving her a dirty look before finally turning to me.

- "Hi," she finally responds. "You know we already saw each other this morning, right?" she jokes.

- "Uh, yeah," I say awkwardly, making her smile.

- "I don’t have much time to chat, but we’ll meet after class. I’ll be done with what I have to do by then, so we can work on your assignments."

- "Really? I don’t want to waste your time. If you’re too busy, Alessia can help me."

- "No. I insisted on helping you with your studies, so I’m not going to abandon you," she replies.

I suppress my smile at the tone of her voice. Oh, so she has an issue with Alessia... I didn’t see that coming.

- "Alright. I’ll be there," I simply reply.

- "You better be. You can’t back out now."

- "I wasn’t planning to," I tease.

- "Good," she smiles. "See you later in the classroom."

- "Aren’t you going to eat?"

- "I just finished. I wanted to avoid the crowd and save time."

- "Oh," I say, struggling to hide my disappointment.

She smiles at me, as if she understands how I feel. I wish she could have been there with me. Just seeing her in front of me would have given me courage. She ruffles my hair affectionately before slowly walking away.

- "See you in a few hours," I whisper.

- "See you in a few hours," she repeats.

I sigh as I watch her walk away. I wish I could follow her. I turn back to Alessia, who raises an eyebrow with a small smile.

- "Study session, huh? I guess things are better between you two if you're willing to ditch me."

- "Oh... Uh, yeah. I should’ve told you," I grimace as we head outside to join the others.

They were waiting for us at the exit. We follow them to the cafeteria as they start walking when they see us.

- "I’m really sorry, but because of my terrible grades, Bronze wanted to take charge again."

- "So, things are better between you?"

- "I... Yeah, you could say that."

- "You could say that?" she giggles. "You seemed pretty happy to see her just now," she smiles.

- "You’re exaggerating... It’s just that I didn’t expect to see her. She told me she’d be very busy today."

- "Who, besides you, tries to run into their supervisor?" she teases.

- "Alright... You’re right. Probably no one," I giggle. "I can’t help it if I enjoy spending time with her. She... I don’t know. I need her, that’s all. With what happened last week, she once again proved that to me."

- "Uh-huh..." she smiles.

- "What?"

- "Nothing," she says with a smirk.

- "Oh, come on. I know you well enough by now to know you’re thinking something."

- "No, I’m not saying anything," she says, raising her hands. "You might take it the wrong way again, and I don’t want to risk it."

- "Of course not," I protest.

- "I’m sure you would," she laughs. "Please drop it. I really don’t want you to get upset again."

- "Fine," I sigh.

I don’t insist, knowing that if she doesn’t want to talk about it, she must have a good reason. I don’t want to create any tension between us when we’ve been getting along so well these past few days. I step into the cafeteria hall as she holds the door for me. I barely take a few steps before Alexia half-jumps on me, putting her arm around my shoulders. I wince, holding back a cry of pain to avoid worrying her. Though my injuries are healing, they are far from fully recovered.

- "Classes are so depressing," she groans. "I’m so glad we’re on break!"

- "I totally agree."

- "You guys can’t complain. We only have one week left," Alessia comments.

- "Yeah, Especially the first week. Oh my God, I can’t wait!"

- "I can’t agree more," I say with a knowing smile.

- "What do you mean...?" Ale asks, slowing down. "Wait, don’t tell me—"

She stops completely, making me chuckle. I hadn’t told her the good news yet. This vacation is going to be amazing. I’ll be surrounded by all the people I’m closest to: Lucy, Mapi, and Alexia. Gradually, a smile spreads across Alexia’s face as if she’s just figured it out.

- "No, but wait... Really?"

I shrug, smiling even more. I reply with a wink before continuing with Alessia toward the buffet, who no longer tries to understand our half-spoken conversation. Thankfully. She’s a good analyst, and I don’t want her starting to ask questions.

- "Ona Batlle! What don’t I know about!?"

- "Oh, a lot of things," I giggle. "Let’s talk about it tonight, okay?"

"You have no idea how much I hate you right now for leaving me in suspense!"

I laugh, not saying anything more. I get the feeling Alessia is already asking herself questions, so I don’t want to add fuel to the fire by feeding her curiosity. We finally change the subject as we return to our table.

Monday, February 8; 5:45 PM - Lucy and Ingrid’s Office.

For the fifth time, I try to slide my hand onto Lucy’s thigh, but she stops me again, this time with a grumble. I pout as she furrows her brows once more.

- "You need to stop that."

- "I need to touch you," I groan.

She smiles softly, tilting her head. Coming from me, that might be confusing. I’ve never felt such a primal need before. Lucy has always been the one to offer me affection, and it’s frustrating that she’s denying it now.

- "Since when, huh?"

I shrug, blushing slightly. I missed her today. It was the first day we’ve been apart in four days.

- "Just wait a few more minutes until the building empties. In the meantime, focus. You’re far from done with your exercise."

I slump, resting my head on my hand and letting out a long groan. I’m getting tired of these management exercises. It’s been nearly an hour, and I’m almost back to square one.

- "Um, hello."

I lift my head to see a new presence in the room. Ingrid isn’t here tonight, so I wanted to take the opportunity to get Lucy’s attention, but now I understand why she didn’t want that. We could still be caught at any moment, like now. I squint as I recognize my management teacher, Mr. Tompson.

- "Hello, Mr. Tompson. How can I help you?" Lucy takes the initiative to ask.

- "I didn’t expect you to have company, actually."

- "Oh, Ona isn’t a problem. I help her with her homework every evening, so I doubt there will be other times to discuss privately. I’ll make sure she stays quiet if it’s an important matter."

- "Actually, it concerns her class."

He glances at me with a gentle smile. I don’t return his smile at all. He caught my attention as soon as he arrived. Lucy sort of confirmed for me that he’s interested in her. That makes me even more eager to defend my territory, but of course, I can’t. As if Lucy sensed that I was seething beside her, she gently squeezes my knee.

- "Well?"

I loosen my grip on my pen and look back down at my paper. Maybe my inattention will encourage my teacher to talk, and that’s exactly what happens. He must have realized that I wasn’t going to leave. There’s no way I’m letting him be alone with Lucy.

- "I was thinking of organizing an outing for their class. It would involve seeing how a company operates. I’m just waiting for responses from the companies I’ve selected."

- "Okay…" Lucy responds uncertainly. "And how does that involve me?"

- "I’m looking for chaperones… Three, to be exact."

- "I see."

- "I was hoping you’d be willing to do it," he adds hesitantly after Lucy’s response.

- "Well, why not, but it’s not my decision to make. You’d better discuss this with the principal."

- "Oh yes, of course! That was my intention," he says quickly. "I just wanted to know if you were agreeable before approaching her."

- "Do you already have the other chaperones?"

- "Another teacher who helped organize the outing will be there. I’m still missing the third person."

- "I can ask Engen. I suppose she’d be interested in coming with us. Of course, it will need Wiegman’s approval first."

- "That’s a good idea. I’ll handle that. Anyway, it’s not happening for a few weeks."

- "Alright, then we’ll discuss it again when the time comes."

- "Bronze…?" I murmur. "I’m stuck here."

A smile spreads across her lips as she presses her hand on my knee a little more. She seems to understand my plea for attention.

- "Excuse me, did I interrupt you?" my teacher asks.

- "No problem," Lucy replies.

- "Well then… I’ll leave you to it. Have a good evening."

- "Thank you, you too."

I watch him leave the room with a nasty look. Fortunately for me, he didn’t notice as he had his back turned. He closes the door halfway at Lucy’s request. I sigh with relief at his departure. He was making the atmosphere heavy. Lucy smiles at me almost mockingly.

- "What?"

- "Oh, nothing."

- "Hmm…"

- "So, what’s your problem?"

- "Oh, I didn’t have one. I just wanted him to leave."

She smiles again and goes back to her work. I groan, resting my head on my palm again.

- "Still, I hadn’t realized how insufferable that guy is."

Lucy lets out a laugh she’s probably been holding in for a while, given its intensity.

- "Hey, don’t make fun of me! It’s the truth."

- "I thought you liked him?"

- "Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind. I like him less now that I know he’s hovering around you."

- "He’s not hovering around me," she rolls her eyes.

- "He likes you and ogles you; it’s all the same to me. Plus, I would’ve preferred to avoid confronting him today, given how much I missed you," I tease her.

She smiles in amusement and surprises me by leaning in to kiss me. I close my eyes, fully enjoying this contact, which I realize has become a necessity for me right now. However, it doesn’t last. I open my eyes to beg for more, which prompts her to respond verbally.

- "I hope you fully enjoyed that little taste to satisfy your needs because that’s going to be my only affectionate gesture in this office tonight. Now get back to work. I want that exercise finished before dinner."

A plaintive whine escapes me. I should’ve expected it, but it’s so frustrating. Knowing that she really means it, I abandon the idea of getting more and change the subject.

- "I can’t do it," I replied.

I’m not sure if I’m talking about the exercise or the affection she’s withholding. She seems to assume it’s the former, judging by her response.

- "I’ve explained it to you three different ways. You can’t tell me you can’t do it. This is clearly a lack of effort on your part, and if you think I’m going to do the exercise for you, you’ve got another thing coming."

I sigh, knowing full well that she’s right about this. In truth, I already understood it the second time she explained it, but I just don’t have the motivation to do it. I still pout, not entirely happy with her attitude. However, I don’t complain to avoid getting scolded for real. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that Lucy won’t act any differently than a supervisor during work hours. With little enthusiasm, I finally dive into my exercise.

Monday, February 8; 8:15 PM - Ona and Alexia’s Room.

- "No way, this can’t be true…" says Alexia, completely shocked. "Why do you always hide so much from me! So, you and Bronze…"

She doesn’t finish her sentence, as if she still can’t believe it enough to say it out loud. I giggle and nod. I just told her we’re a couple. I thought she would’ve guessed when I said everything was settled, but it seems she hadn’t thought that far. She falls back onto the bed across from me. It looks like she’s going to need some time to process this.

- "But like, really?"

- "Yes, Ale," I laugh. "We’re together."

- "B-but, but… How?! We’re talking about Bronze here!"

- "Call her Lucy with me, please," I roll my eyes with a little amused smile.

- "Oh no, no, no. I definitely can’t do that. We’re talking about Bronze!"

I laugh heartily before we look each other in the eye. I wait for her to digest the news. She opens her mouth to speak but then closes it again. She seems to be thinking about what to say before finally speaking.

- "How? I mean, Bronze hates me because I broke the rules by dating Jenni, and she got fired because of me. So how did you get her to break the same rule herself? It’s so unexpected. I mean, of course, I encouraged you, and I hated her for hurting you so much, but… I don’t know. I just never expected her to offer you an intimate relationship, seriously!"

- "Stop it, Lucy doesn’t hate you."

- "Oh yes, yes, yes! She hates me! She made that clear from the start! She’s only become nicer to me since you two started hooking up! And that’s only because we’re friends! Did you say something to her? Oh my God, you must have said something! Otherwise, she wouldn’t be acting so nice to me!"

I chuckle in amusement. The way she’s getting worked up is hilarious. Now she’s standing up, panicking, saying things I can’t even understand anymore because I’m laughing so much.

- "Ale, calm down. I didn’t say anything to her. If she’s doing it for me, I don’t know about it. I can find out If you want.

- Definitely not! Besides… why are you here with me? Don’t you want to go find her?

- Well, you see, I have a friend who pressured me a little to stop by here before heading back to my room. I should hate you for delaying the moment I’ve been waiting for all day, but you’re lucky I like you, I teased.

- Aww, you’re too cute! But go on. I don’t want to keep you. I’ll just try to process this news now that I know.

- No, I think I’ll stay here for a bit. Actually, I need to make Lucy wait. She left me frustrated while I was doing my homework.

Alexia sits back down on her bed, nodding.

- It’s understandable that she’d want to keep things discreet. Her best friend lost her job because of me for the same reason. I doubt she wants to get fired for it too.

- I know… I sighed. I don’t blame her; I get it. Honestly, I just didn’t expect to want to be so touchy-feely with her. I mean, just last week, I could barely stand being touched. Now I’m practically begging her to touch me, even if it’s just once.

- I’ve been saying from the start that you were hooked on her, she teased. But still, I can’t get over it. You two, together? I mean, especially Bronze in a relationship—it’s unimaginable.

- Oh, stop. It’s just because she only shows you the mask she wants you to see. She’s really sweet deep down. I even think she’s hiding her true self, I said with a roll of my eyes.

- What do you mean by that?

- I’m not saying anything. You might never see her the same way again, and I doubt Lucy would appreciate it, I replied with a small, sly smile. I think she likes to keep you on your toes, I chuckled.

- Yeah, well, it’s really not funny, she pouted.

- You know, I can always talk to her if this bothers you that much.

- No, absolutely not! I want to prove to her that I’m a good match for Jenni. I feel like she still doesn’t think so.

- If she doesn’t yet, she will. And I promise I won’t do anything to make that happen.

We exchanged a knowing smile just as there was a knock on the door. A rather timid Lucy entered our room. I raised an eyebrow, not expecting her to show up. I’d seen her after dinner and told her I wouldn’t come by right away.

- Hey, I said. What brings you here?

- I was wondering what was taking you so long.

I raised an eyebrow, noticing it was only twenty past eight. I usually didn’t head back to my room until nine when I stopped by here first.

- Hmm… We were just talking, but I can come back with you if that’s what you want.

- Oh no, it’s just that… she started before cutting herself off. Never mind.

Lucy shifted her gaze from me to my roommate. She raised an eyebrow, making me look at Alexia in turn. Alexia’s cheeks were clearly flushed with embarrassment, probably from staring at her. Lucy sighed, running a hand through her hair.

- She knows, I guess?

- Of course. Don’t think I was going to keep it from her.

- I didn’t say anything, she smiled softly. Well… are you done, or should I leave without you?

- I think we’re done…

- Yeah, sure, Alexia confirmed.

- So, see you tomorrow morning? I asked.

- Yeah, she smiled, getting up to hug me. See you tomorrow morning.

- Good night, I said, before joining Lucy, who had been waiting by the door since the beginning.

Lucy wished her a good night as well before letting me go ahead to leave. We walked through the buildings, taking her shortcut to make the trip quicker.

- You thought I wasn’t coming back? I teased. I usually get back to your room later than this.

- No. Let’s just say I didn’t expect you to take so long. You told me you’d only be fifteen minutes.

- Hmm… And what would have happened if I’d stayed longer, huh?

- It would have meant that I couldn’t enjoy you the way I wanted, she murmured as she opened her bedroom door.

- Well, I started, immediately searching for my things in my suitcase. You didn’t want me to enjoy you in your office either, I replied in a slightly reproachful tone.

- You’re not really mad about that, are you? she teased.

- You don’t know me very well if you think otherwise, I replied with a wink.

She tried to steal a kiss as we moved, but I ignored her and slammed the bathroom door in her face. I heard her groan behind it, which made me stifle a laugh. I expected her to give up—at least, that’s what I would’ve done in her place—but instead, she came into the bathroom just as I was taking off my shirt.

- Luce, get out of here.

- No, she said, blocking me against the sink.

- What’s gotten into you? I sighed, slightly unsettled by her sudden change in behavior.

- You should know that I don't reject you in my office for fun, she replied. I told you that I'd remain your supervisor at school and your girlfriend in private. I thought you understood that. Let's not start taking jabs at each other over this.

Her response made me realize she took my words seriously. Sure, I was a little upset with her for making me wait with just one kiss, but I was mostly joking.

- Sorry, I... It’s just that... Today was hard. I really missed you. I didn’t expect it to be this much. Plus, it was tough dealing with all those rumors and students without you by my side.

Lucy sighed as she pulled me into her arms. I relaxed into her embrace, enjoying the long-awaited hug. She kissed my forehead.

- It was only the first day... You'll have to hold on for three more months because I’m not planning to change my stance on professionalism. Don’t forget that I’m working here.

- I know, I mumbled.

- We’ll have all the time in the world to be together in the evenings, OK?

- Yeah, and after the holidays, huh? I won’t be here in the evenings, remember?

- Well, we’ll have the weekends, she arched an eyebrow. You're not going to get all depressed on me, are you? I didn’t think you were this needy for affection, she teased.

- Well, you’re the one who made me like this.

She laughed and stole a quick kiss from me.

- Now, go take a quick shower and come join me. You’re not the only one who’s been waiting for this moment all day. I just hide it better than you.

I smiled as I watched her leave. She really does hide it better than I do because I hadn’t noticed. I hurried to wash up and get ready for bed before joining her. She was already waiting in bed with the next Harry Potter movie queued up on her laptop. I quickly joined her, snuggling into her arms. She held me tight and kissed me passionately, showing me just how much she had missed me too.

- So, how was your day otherwise? she asked as she started the movie.

- Long and boring, I sighed. It’s really unbearable. I’m just glad Alessia and the others were there to distract me.

- Alessia, huh?

- What? I asked, smiling slightly, already knowing where this conversation was going.

- You two have gotten close pretty quickly. Is she still into you?

I smiled mischievously. I vaguely mentioned this to her because of what happened on New Year’s Eve. I seriously need to stop talking to her about these things.

- I don’t think so. At least, she knows I’m interested in someone else.

- Really?

- Yeah… But she’s starting to have questions about us, so if you ask me, you might want to save those looks for someone else next time.

I bit my lip and looked up. The scene from this morning was unforgettable. I saw her give Alessia a disapproving look, and I doubt it was accidental. I caught her rolling her eyes before she turned them back to me.

- Why? She’s asking questions?

- I think she suspects that you’re the one I’m interested in. So yeah, I guess she’s asking questions. This morning, she didn’t want to continue a conversation about it, fearing I’d get upset…

- I see, she murmured. I’ll try to control myself. You try to do the same with your management professor, she teased.

- At least I didn’t stare him down!

- Maybe not, but you weren’t exactly pleasant either, she giggled.

- That’s not true.

- Yes, it is, she laughed. It was cute.

I blushed, sinking deeper into her. I turned my attention to the movie that had been playing. Lucy kissed my head, making me smile. It’s funny how easily we express our feelings now when we hid them for weeks before.

- So… I can’t talk to Alessia about us, right? I broke the silence, making Lucy sigh.

- Why do you ask? Do you want to tell her?

- No, but I’m afraid she’ll find out…

- If you ask me, from what you’ve told me, she already suspects. It’s up to us to prove her wrong, which is why we need to stay professional here, especially during work hours.

- You’re right, I murmured.

- I’d love for you to be able to talk to her, but the fewer people who know, the less chance we have of compromising my end of the year. I’d rather we don’t talk about it, no matter how much you trust Alessia or anyone else.

I nodded. It’s definitely too risky. It might be our last year, but I’m not going to risk anything happening in the short time we have left here.

- I won’t say anything.

- So… Do you really like her since you’ve gotten close to her?

I swallowed a smile. She’s really cute when she’s playing jealous.

- She was a good support while you were away… I misjudged her, to be honest.

- You know, if you asked me a question like that, I would have reassured you…

I frowned, worried that I might be misunderstanding the tone of her voice. I looked up to see her smiling softly at me.

- Yes, I’m jealous of her, baby. Unlike me, you could have been open with her in front of your friends.

- I was open with you in Barcelona and even in front of my mom. That was the first time that ever happened. Well, I did it with Mapi in front of our friends, but definitely not as quickly.

- Really…? she murmured.

- Yes.

I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better look at her. She suddenly seemed deep in thought. Her hand gently caressed my back.

- What’s on your mind? I whispered.

- I don’t want to rush you into things too quickly. You know that, right?

- Of course. I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. Honestly… I expected this weekend to be a disaster because of my fears, but I ended up loving it… You made me feel comfortable, as you always do. Everything feels so natural between us, and that’s exactly what I need.

She smiled softly before kissing me.

- I’m glad to hear you say that. Don’t hesitate to tell me if anything bothers you, okay?

- Nothing bothers me… But I’ll tell you if something does, I promise. Can we finally watch the movie now?

- Of course, she giggled. Sorry. Come here.

She lifted her arm, and I didn’t hesitate to snuggle as close to her as possible. I love when she holds me in her arms. I used to be afraid of starting a new relationship because I didn’t like physical contact anymore, but now I crave the opposite with Lucy. I buried my head in her neck, thinking about this. I can’t imagine being without her anymore. We’ll need to balance our time during the day and our private moments. I have no doubt she’ll help me with that, even though it will be challenging for both of us, from what I can tell. Lucy is clearly better at hiding it than I am. I hope I can do the same in the coming days, and then the holidays will finally be ours.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #ona batlle #barca femeni #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze

69 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months

Note

AITA for being the reason my mom and her boyfriend broke up?

My (23) mom has been with this person since I was 7 years old. They do not nor have they ever lived together (in fact, he lives a state away and drives here every thursday-sunday). To his credit, he has shown up for me for orchestra concerts, graduation, flight pick ups, etc almost my whole life whereas my dad has not. However I have not liked him since I was around 17 years old (we were in the middle of a very long drive two states away from home yet AT NIGHT. My mom has high anxiety and can't see very well at night and he screamed at her for not driving but then didn't even stop the car to let her drive anyway?? And when she started crying he jerked the radio up to the highest volume and ignored me kicking and yelling at him in the back because I could've driven instead but whatever)

Anyway. He has a history of tantrums and outbursts like the above. He's never been violent, but one time he hid my mom's cat's ashes just to upset her. He broke her potted plants, showed up at her work to yell at her more, etc. Thanksgiving of 2020, he had me cornered against the wall and was screaming in my face about how ungrateful and disrespectful I am because I didnt talk to him enough while I was home for break. We ended up having to leave our house and stay at a friend's.

And yet my mom forgave him because he cried and apologized to her. But never to me. And she expected me to forgive and move on because she "knows he has a good heart."

Anyway anyway, my mom knew how I felt after that. To prevent him having meltdowns on Christmas or his birthday or fathers day, she would get him gifts and put my name on them. Which I never asked her to do.

Well this year for Christmas he decided I once again was not being grateful or respectful or appreciate enough to/for him. My mom told me to call him and apologize and I said no, because he's never apologized to me and I didn't think I had even done anything. Plus, if I DID apologize out of nowhere for not meeting his expectations he would've known my mom told me to do so.

I was on the long drive home for break when they got into a big fight about me. He asked her if she would choose him or me and she chose me. He broke the brand new TV she bought him for Christmas and the entertainment stand it was on. They haven't seen each other since.

My mom says it's not my fault, but I feel like I've always been the one wedging between them. I'm the one who couldn't let things go, I'm the one who obviously avoids him, I'm the one who won't accept his apologies through a third party. She says this is for the best because they're on different paths and now she can focus on herself, her own happiness, and her faith (which is very important to her and not at all for him).

I just wish my mom was able to come to this conclusion without me being the catalyst. There had to have been a better way to go about this. I don't think I'm blameless here. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

151 notes · View notes

gleefullypolin · 3 months

Text

My top 10 ships

I haven't done this in forever, and I was bored and didn't feel like working so.....felt like an appropriate thing to do instead.

My top 10 ships!

#1 Polin - Bridgerton

Did you really anticipate anyone else being at my top spot? Friends to lovers....Swoon! They have my heart, soul, and life. I literally love a girl who knows what she wants and a man who loves the fuck out of her like no other so this is like porn and comfort. Give me everything tonight and more!

#2 Captain Swan - OUAT

If you aren't going to give me friends to lovers, I'll move over to Enemies and find my kind because holy hot out of hell, there is nothing better than Captain Hook and his smolder winning over Emma Swan. Fuck that man can burn! Years after that show ended and I can still sit in them and ruminate and catch myself on fire.

#3 Clois - Smallville

There have been a lot of different Lois and Clark's out there, but none have been Erica Durance and Tom Welling. I've never been so happy and angry with a show in all my life. I used to wish so much against Lana Lang that I am embarrassed my own behavior. But I truly loved the banter and way these two brought these characters to live. It was marvelous.

#4 Reylo - Star Wars

Being a Reylo shipper was like being sentenced to death and hell all at the same time for many years. We were bullied, tortured, shat on, and then given everything we wanted in 30 seconds only for them to fucking KILL HIM after a sacrifice. I have never both smiled, cried, and then curled into a ball in a theater so quickly that I wanted to die before. Even my family ridiculed me. It was torture but I still live there. I still ship it and you cannot make me stop!!

#5 Fitzsimmons - Agents of Shield

The brilliant science couple put through so much that even they thought they were cursed. Pushed to find each other across time and space, kidnapped into a matrix, forced to fight one another, half the couple killed, duplicate versions of themselves, but champions of the hug, star crossed and so full of love. Friends to lovers, he fell first, she fell harder and GOD I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR!

#6 Starpollo - Battlestar Galactica

A couple who knew how to tear out my heart, throw it to the ground, and then trample it with their feet to ashes. While Lee and Kara were not destined to end up together, they damn sure made it hard not to want them to find a way. They truly loved each other more than anyone they were with in the show, but guilt always found a way to fuck that up for them. God it hurt to love you two.

#7 Romanogers - Marvel Universe

Let's talk crack ships because oh how they break your heart. But it is glorious. This one is mine. I will forever love Nat and Steve and I will live in the space and time that they were on the road together living their lives without a banner. Because you can't tell me what they got up to! I refuse to believe you! But let's not talk about how it all ended because my heart still hurts and I don't like to talk about it!

#8 Finchel - Glee

Since I'm already ripping my heart out, let's go all the way with it. Finchel has always been that ship that tears my heart to shreds. I was all in from the characters to the actors and I'll never honestly get over it. I'll probably always bleed Finn and Rachel, Cory and Lea. And I'll never be able to talk about it to normal people. It was something I lived, breathed, and honestly part of me died with. So I think that's enough of that.

#9 Caryl - The Walking Dead

You can call this whatever it is, some say crack ship, I say...otherwise. It's my ship of ships for TWD. It's my coming home ship. Because that's what they are to each other. They are love. No one tell me otherwise, I live there, I love there. So do they. Deal with it.

#10 Roschel - Friends

Look, say what you want, but I stayed home on Thursday nights just to watch whether they would or wouldn't. Nothing grabbed me like these two. They were lobsters, they were on a break, I didn't give a fuck what it was, only that they had me in a chokehold and that's what I realized what shipping was. Because dammit, I wanted whatever feeling it was. And thus the 9 people above because the passion I sought. So bless it, they needed to be here.

And there you have it, my top 10 ships! Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to add your own :)

75 notes · View notes

eddiesguitarskills · 5 months

Text

It can’t all be bullshit Part 2

Read part 1 here

Eddie Munson x fem Reader x Steve Harrington (unfortunately no Steddie in this)

Summary: pinning after your best friend can be hard, especially when he doesn’t like you back. You were trying to get over a crush the last thing you needed was another.

AN: this is all I've written for the story, so I won't be as fast updating. Also, I'm sorry I write a lot for female-presenting readers it's just I find it easier to write it like that, especially with my dyslexia. However, if you guys want I can start reuploading the story with non-gender descriptions just might take it longer to edit it.

Warnings: Angst, use of Y/n, mention of break ups, miscommunication, sexual themes but no smut readers discretion is advised. Drug and alcohol use, and swearing.

word count 3.7kish

Monday morning came around quickly, which you were glad about. The sooner you could get away from that awful weekend, the better. Eddie hadn’t remembered anything from that night, or if he did, he didn't mention it. You were also glad that you didn’t want another argument, and you definitely didn’t want details on his love life. Not that you hadn’t thought about it, your brain was too cruel to not make you dwell on it, you also thought about Harrington was he okay? Not that you cared about him of course just one human looking out for another. If you happen to be looking around to see if he made it to school that would be out of curiosity not because you cared. Thankfully his locker was near to yours so you would eventually see how he was, to be honest with how the gossip spreads in this school you would hear about it eventually if the king and queen of Hawkins really had broken up.

I don't hear anything about it until a week later at lunch. You were a little late as you had been stuck talking to your English teacher, Miss Plant, and you felt too rude to leave despite the rumbling in your stomach. As soon as you got to the table, a conversation began. “Do you reckon his head hurt?” Eddie joked. “Whose head?” you said while sitting in your seat beside Eddie. “The king when he fell from his throne”. You were beyond confused. Were they talking about a new campaign? You couldn't remember a king in your current D&D campaign. Maybe you had been too busy dazing at your leader at the meetings to notice if there was a new character. You didn't want to feel stupid, so you nodded like you understood. It wasn't until the conversation continued and you heard the mention of Nancy Wheeler you understood. You knew Eddie and Steve didn't like each other, but some of his words seemed too harsh. You saw what Harringtons' wrath could be like, and you didn't want Eddie on the receiving end. You picked at your peas, not daring to look up, and you knew how they would all tease you about nagging again. “Maybe we shouldn't talk about this”. Eddie raised his eyebrow, stopping his rant. “Why are you scared?” he challenged. You shrugged back.

Everyone was surprised. You hadn't nagged, you hadn't come back at him, you had stayed remarkably calm. Eddie wanted to see how long it would take you to snap, but he didn't have a chance when Chris, taking the hint, changed the subject. “So when’s the date, Eddie?” Not realising this would be the thing to make you snap. Since when did he have a date? Indeed it wasn't with what's her face from the party? You thought he didn't remember anything from that party, and if he did, why hadn't he apologised to you yet? “Well, she wanted to come over on Thursday, but I don't know” he looked at you to gauge a reaction; that was your weekly bowling night. Don't shout. It's okay. It's only the night you look forward to most, and you don't have much to look forward to. It doesn't matter. Well, maybe it does, but not to him anymore. “Have fun” you say standing to leave the table, dumping the food on your tray. Any hunger you had felt had gone and was replaced with nausea.

You needed somewhere to hide because you weren’t going to the next period. You needed someone to cry or scream or both. So you disappeared to Eddie’s spot in the woods. You hold onto yourself for warmth, looking down, trying to be careful not to trip on the twigs hidden in the mud. You finally make it to the table without an accident when you see out of the corner of your eye a guy. You pray it's not Eddie or someone here for a deal. It was the last thing you needed. You weren't sure if you would keep your cool this time round, especially with the stupid tears that kept lining your eyes.

“I didn't think anyone else would be here”, he spoke. It wasn't Eddie, but it was someone you also didn't want to bump into. You hoped after that night you would never have to come face to face with Harrington again. “Sorry, I can go,”you say, hoping to make a swift exit. “No, it's fine, I don't own the woods”.

There is an awkward silence. You debated getting up to leave, but you were stuck there frozen. “Looks like I’m not the only one having a shit day.” You don’t dare look up. Yeah, you were having a bad day, but it didn’t feel right to compare it to a breakup. “Mine nothing compare to yours”. You look up quickly. You didn’t mean it to sound that way. “No, I meant I’m fine. I’m sorry about what happened”. God, did you sound as dumb as you thought? “So I guess everyone knows now”. You shake your head “just because I know doesn’t mean everyone knows”.

He weakly chuckles, but there is no humour behind it: “It kind of does. It’s made its way down to the bottom of the food chain”. Steve’s eyes widened. Shit, he didn’t mean to sound like that. “No offence”. He couldn’t help being how he was. Having to put up an act for so long makes it hard to realise when he was being a dick. “None taken”. You shrug. You were used to the name-calling by jocks, so his words felt like nothing. “So what happened to you?” You twiddle with the ring Eddie gave you on a chain. “Don’t worry about me”. Steve smiles. “It’d be nice to worry about something else for a change. So is it a guy?” You laugh at him. “Do you think all girl's problems revolve around a guy?”. He nods.” Well, that is very guy-like of you, but yeah, you’re right. This time, it’s a guy.” Steve’s face lights up with a smirk. “I knew it! So what happened.” You go to speak but look up, realising it is not a friend you are talking to. It’s a popular kid. Even worse than that, it’s the king of Hawkins high. “Just typical guy stuff.”

Steve took the hint you didn’t want to get into it, so they changed the subject. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but Can you not tell anyone I was here? If Principal Coleman finds out I cut, I’m dead” You almost wanted to laugh; the Principal would find out, but looking at his face, you knew he was deadly serious. “who would I tell?” He shook his shoulders. “I don’t know”. You smiled. “Exactly. I’m gonna have to start charging you for all the secrets I keep”. He looked utterly lost. “Huh?”

Eddie sauntered over, his metal lunch box in hand. He could only see Harrington and the back of a girl’s head. So he didn’t know who it was. “My spots are popular today. I’ve even got King Steve, and I assume his new plaything here.” You turn around to face him. Now was not the time for his antics. “Leave it, Eddie” you sneered. The boy’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Absolutely not” he grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the woods away from Steve.

After many tries, you finally got out of Eddie’s grasp. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”. The boy rolled his eyes, “saving you”. You repeated his facial expression, “I didn’t need saving”. He tutted and slung his arm around you. “You were about to be Harrington’s next prey; trust me, you needed saving.” You pushed him off. “We were just talking”. Eddie looked at you like he was telling off a child, not a friend and definitely not someone he fancied “That’s how it starts”. You hated that he treated you like you didn’t know how the world worked. “I don’t see why you care”. He shook his head. “I’m your best friend, of course I care”. There it was, the famous last words of any crush. You were officially friend-zoned, and you would never get out of that. You felt deflated, so you just nodded and followed him to his van and then trailer.

A month later you were going to another party this time it was your idea. Getting over this crush had been more challenging than you had planned, so you decided to do something the opposite of what you usually would. Tonight, you would act like all the other teenagers and drink till you forget. Or find someone to help you forget. When you told Eddie you were going, he insisted he took you despite your protests. How are you supposed to get over someone when he doesn't leave you alone? You had bought an outfit for tonight because your usual outfit of jeans and a tee didn’t feel fitting. So you bought a red tight spaghetti strap dress, you thought about wearing heels you put them on, but as soon as you wobbly stood up like Bambi on ice, you realised it wasn't the best idea, so you put on your black trusty Converse. It's nice to have familiarity and not feel like Bambi on ice when trying to catch someone up. You hear several impatient beeps outside; you would think you had made him wait for hours when he had only just arrived 30 minutes late, of course. Life is always on Eddie’s schedule. You just wanted to get to the party and out of his sight, so you grabbed your bag put on a layer of lipgloss and ran outside to Eddie’s van.

He had the window down. He looked at your outfit and shook his head. “You’re gonna freeze”. You were sick of his new habit of babying you; was this what you sounded like to him? Was this just him mocking you? The girl from the last party poked her head out. “I think you look hot. I’m Sasha (sorry if this is your name she is nice though) by the way”. You nod. “Y/n”, he brought her, of course he brought her. She was nice. Why did she have to be nice? It's easier to dislike someone when they are a bitch, not a beautiful soul like hers. You were even more jealous now you wish you could be more like her than you. You got into the back of the van as Eddie drove (over the speed limit) to the party. Sasha was super friendly along the way and kept asking you questions to get to know Eddie’s best friend more. The boy stayed quiet, in thought. He was struggling to keep his eyes on the road as he kept looking at you through the rearview mirror in disbelief.

When you finally got to the party, you found your way to the punch bowl, the pair not leaving your side. You picked up a red cup, filling it with the content of the bowl, whenever that may be. Before you could even put it to your lips. Eddie took the cup from your hands, pouring it back into the bowl, Tutting at you. “Are you okay tonight? You’re acting weird”. God, you were sick of his stupid face and stupid comments, but then it struck you this was your way out from the couple, from him. “You know I’m feeling a little weird. I’m gonna go to the toilet… it’s probably because of my period”. It was a lie, but you knew it would stop him from following you.

You went up the stairs and poked your head into a room, hoping it would be the bathroom. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t; Steve Harrington sat on a bed, his leg tapping anxiously and anxiously. why did you two seem to have a universal magnet. “Sorry”. He looked up at you. You went to leave but were stopped by his voice calling, “Wait, you’re the girl who ditched me”.

“The girl?” You repeated him. “I have a name. It’s y/n, and I wouldn’t exactly call it ditched.” He laughed, getting up and shutting the door behind you. “What would you call it? I know it’s not your fault, though, was your boyfriend jealous?”. You glare at the thought, “he’s not my boyfriend”. He laughs. “Does he know that?” You turn to leave. “I’m not in the mood for whatever this is”. He holds your hand not too tightly, so if you want to go, you can, bringing you to the bed to sit down. You are stocked by yourself that you don't push him away, but the gentleness of this action makes your heart flutter. Maybe Steve Harrington could help you forget. “So he’s the one that made you cry”. Maybe not. You put your hands on your face, embarrassed “Is it that obvious?”. He pulls your hands away from your face, shaking his head. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t see how beautiful you are”. You want to smile at his words, but they make you cringe. “Is this how you get all the girls?” He sighs. God, he had just been broken up with; maybe it was too soon to mention girls. “I’m sor-“ he puts a finger to your lip. “You apologise far too much”. You nod. “I just don’t want you to bite my head off again”, you mumble, fiddling with the end of your dress.

“When did I do that?” He had no clue what you were talking about, so why did you even mention it? “It doesn’t matter” you keep your eyes down. He uses his hand to lift your chin so you’re looking at him. “When did I do that?” He says as genuinely as he can. He was trying to be better, a more likeable guy, and if he wanted to do that, he needed to right his wrongs. “It wasn’t your fault; it probably just seems worse in my head because I wasn’t enjoying myself…and Eddie was being a dick and-“ he puts his hand on yours to calm you. “It was Halloween; I think you and Nancy had just had an argument. I guess you needed someone to take your rage out on, and I just happened to be there”. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. Annoyed at himself, he couldn’t look at you. “It’s fine; I swear it wasn’t that bad. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here. You just told me to fuck off and said bullshit a lot”. He looks over at you. “So you know what happened with Nancy?” you nodded “I got the gist”. He nudged your shoulder with his “thanks for not telling anything”. You laugh. “As you said in the wood, I’m the bottom of the food chain. I've got no one to tell.”

He wanted to beat himself up; he had fallen so far into the idea of popularity that he became what he swore he would never be a dick. “You aren’t, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that.” You squeeze his hand. “Don’t go soft on me. I'm quite content being there . It means I can fade into the background”. He holds both of your hands and looks you up and down until his eyes land on yours. “Someone like you isn’t meant to fade into the background”. You don’t know what comes over you; maybe it’s how nice he’s being, that you had never been called pretty by a boy, or how handsome he looked, but you lean in and kiss him. Maybe it’s because you recognise the broken mess hidden behind his eyes. You instantly realise what you’ve done. You couldn’t blame alcohol for this. You had still never drank. You’re about to pull away when Steve brings his hands to your hips and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. “Where” kiss. “Do you” another peck “think” another “you’re going?” You giggle into his mouth and further the kiss. Your hips were rolling against his, which was out of your control, not that you or Steve minded. You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t taste the beer on his lips until he put his tongue in your mouth. You tried to ignore it, but after a few moments, that’s all-consuming your brain: the metallic taste of it.

Steve could tell you wasn’t really into it anymore, so he pulled away. He started to feel insecure. He hadn’t kissed a girl since Nancy had. Had he already lost his touch? “are you okay? Didn’t you like-“ you shake your head animatedly. The action makes your whole body shake against him, making him moan. God, he was super embarrassed now. He moved you off him before anything got more awkward, especially if you were to feel the semi he was sporting. Jesus, why were you so in your head about everything you had a way to forget, and you ruined it? “I really liked it” he refused to look at you, too self-conscious about the situation. He kept his eyes on the ceiling fan above him. “It’s fine, y/n”- you feel awkward, too, so you keep your eyes on the door in front of you. “I just get so in my head sometimes, and I don’t drink, so I tasted alcohol and- I don’t know” You got frustrated at yourself not being able to find words. You sounded like a complete idiot. No wonder Eddie didn’t want you.

Steve looked at you and started laughing, even though he thought you were stupid. “Wait, so the Alcohol is cock blocking me?” He wasn’t laughing at you. You felt a relief wash over you. He was laughing at the situation. His laugh was so contagious and charming you don’t think you’ve ever heard it. Before you know it, you can’t help but laugh too. “What did you think you were a bad kisser or something?”. He hit your shoulder playfully. “Of course not” He joked.

There were suddenly loud moans from the room next door. You both look in that direction and laugh again. You do a silly impression of the moan. Steve stops laughing and stares at you, surprised at how good you are at making that sound. She must have had a lot of practice faking it to be that good, he thought. The moaning next door suddenly got louder. You raised your eyebrow at him “wanna play a game?”. You don't know what had come over you, but something about him relaxed you. You didn't feel the anxiety you would feel around your friends, making sure they were safe. You just wanted to have fun. You hadn’t been like that in so long.

Free to just be yourself. He raised his eyebrows back. “I'm listening”. You moan again, louder this time. He didn't expect that. He wanted to laugh because it came from nowhere, but it turned him on. “Come on then”. (totally inspired by Easy A here) You whisper. He got the hint and moaned, too, not as loudly, though. You kept doing this back and forth, both getting more exaggerated and louder. It was hard not to laugh at how ridiculous you sounded. Next door suddenly got very quiet. “I think we won”, he nudged your arm. You burst out laughing. He had never noticed you before, but he was glad he had you tonight. He needed a laugh. He doesn't remember the last time he had actually had fun with worrying about the consequences.

There was a bang on the door. “Are you in there, y/n!?” you suddenly stop laughing and roll your eyes upon hearing your best friend’s voice. “Looks like your boyfriend’s jealous again”, Steve joked without thinking. But he then started to panic that maybe you weren’t friends yet. Was it his place to jok- you smack his arm. “Shut it, bullshit boy” you tease back. He would have hated hearing that from anyone else. But from you, he didn't mind. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it's because there was no malice in your voice. Perhaps it's because you had made his awful night better. His week is better. There is another bang on the door “y/n!” you glare at the door. Of course, he had to ruin your fun.

Wasn't it bad enough that he was breaking your heart? “I should go before he bursts a vein or something”. You get up to leave despite the voice in your head telling you to stay. “Thank you for tonight. I really need it”. You kiss his cheek. He smiles, feeling his cheek getting warmer and his heart beating faster. No, he wasn’t ready; he couldn't let this happen like this. “ I'm trying to be better, so I don’t want to lead you on. I don’t want a girlfriend”. You shake your head, going to leave the room, and scoff, “In your dreams, bullshit boy”. He shouts after you, hoping you can hear, “I'm not sure about this new nickname”.

Outside the door, Eddie has his hands on his hips like a parent. “Were you just in there with Harrington?” he says the name like it’s venom. “Yeah, so” just because he was your best friend, he had no right to tell you who to hang out with. You used to think his protective side was endearing, but now it was annoying. You couldn’t say anything about who he hung out with, so he can’t say anything about who you choose to spend time with. Well, that’s what you thought, but Eddie had other ideas, “are you trying to kill me?” He asks like it’s a serious thing that could happen. “Oh yeah, top of my to-do list” There you were, the person Eddie loved, the one with a comeback for everything, but now wasn’t the time for him to bask in your teasing contest that he lived for. No, when there was only a door between you and Harrington, that was too close for comfort for Eddie. He wasn't sure what the new relationship between you and the ‘king’ was, but he didn't like it one bit.

Taglist : @yourdailymemedelivery @kitkat80 @mewchiili @xprloki

@daisy-munson @exploding-bonbon

(if you wanna be added to the tag list let me know)

Masterlist link here if you are interested.

#eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things angst #steddie x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things

135 notes · View notes

burrowbaddie · 1 year

Text

Ghosted

Joe Burrow x Female Reader

Series Summary: You, one of the top actresses in the world find yourself falling for the unbelievably attractive quarterback, Joe Burrow. But as Joe falls faster he finds that everything isn’t so golden about the world’s golden girl.

Acts: 2/?

Status: Ongoing

Warnings: female!reader, smut swearing, oral (m&f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, taking plan b, mentions of toxic past relationship, age gap between ex and reader.

Act 2 Summary: Joe gets ghosted but that doesn’t stop him from falling effortlessly in love with you. But he learns loving you comes with flaws. WC: 6.1k

Series Masterlist

"You what, bro?" Ja'Marr asks.

"I told her I loved her," Joe replies, shutting his locker. Ja'Marr grabs his shoulders and shakes him.

"You have only been dating for nine months. What goes on in that brain of yours? Let the women say those words first. I taught you better than this." Ja'Marr shakes his head, causing Joe to laugh at the younger boy's words. It's been three weeks since Joe dropped the L bomb on you and three weeks since he last spoke to you.

"Should I call her?" Joe asks, looking through his phone. You haven't returned his texts or his calls.

"She ghosted you. Your girlfriend ghosted you. I need you to get a grip and move on." Ja'Marr grabs Joe's shoulders and forces him to sit on the bench.

"Don't listen to a word he says. Doesn't he have like three baby mamas?" Sam chimes in, making Joe laugh. Ja'Marr flips him off and walks away. Sam sits and holds out his hand, asking for Joe's phone. Joe hands it over and lets him scroll through the messages. He makes a face and shakes his head.

"She definitely ghosted you. Maybe she's just busy. She is one of the top actresses out right now." Sam hands the phone back. They didn't help Joe at all.

"He said what?" Eliza, your best friend, shouts, jumping up from the bed. You turn around and nod your head.

"He said he loves me. I panicked and didn't reply. I've been ignoring him since that day."

"Girl, that was three fucking weeks ago! What is wrong with you?"

"I can't say those words to him. I didn't even think things would get this deep. I thought we were having a good time together. Oh God, he's calling me!" You toss your phone on the bed and start pacing. Your best friend grabs your phone and forces it into your hands after answering it.

"Hey-Hi," You answer, glaring at her.

"Oh, hi. I didn't think you would pick up. How are you?" Joe nervously fidgets with his seatbelt.

"Busy. I'm sorry. I picked up a new role, so I got invested. I'm sorry." You apologize.

"I understand. Umm, I'll be in LA for some work. I was wondering if I could come to see you."

Eliza nods her head, telling you to say yes. You frown and shake your head.

"Yes. Sure. That would be great. Text me the info. I have to go." You hang up and throw your phone.

"See, was that so hard? The guy seems to really like you. Give him a chance. He's hot. You've said the sex is fantastic, and he's the hottest thing right now. America is obsessed with him. This is a win. See where it goes." She tells you. You start playing with your fingers and catch yourself before you can get carried away. Joe arrives Thursday night, and you guys stay in for dinner and a movie.

"I can't believe you've never seen Titanic. It's my favorite movie like ever." You're about to sit in the movie chair, but Joe pulls you onto his lap.

"A movie about a real historical tragedy is your favorite?" Joe questions you. YOu bury your face in his neck.

"When you put it like that, it sounds terrible. But Leo and Kate are all-time greats. Their chemistry was beautiful. You'll see." You climb off his lap and sit in your chair as the movie starts. Joe barely watches the film. His eyes continue to drift to you. At one point, you start crying, and he leans over to wipe your tears.

"The way he loved her. Urgh, my heart is so full."

"So you are a fictional romantic?" Joe asks. You pause the movie and turn to him.

"What do you mean?" You ask, feeling a little on edge.

"I mean, I confessed to you, and you panicked and ignored me for three weeks. But things in movies and shows have you smiling and crying."

You open your mouth to speak but don't know how to answer.

"I like what we have going on, but love isn't something I'm looking for. If you want to continue this relationship, I want to keep things the same." You stand up, taking the empty popcorn bowl to refill it, but Joe lightly grabs your wrist and stands up.

"Why does love scare you?"

"It doesn't! I have the right to be happy with my situation, and I don't think love has anything to do with that."

Joe cups your face and reads your expression. His thumb grazes your bottom lip.

"Do I make you happy?"

You nod your head, getting lost in his puppy blue eyes.

"Do I make you feel good?" Joe asks, bending down so that your lips touch. You nod again and lean forward to kiss Joe, but he pulls away with a chuckle.

"Don't tease me," You pout, pushing his chest and storming away. Joe takes a deep breath. Joe could tell a lot about you from your eyes. You were going to run every time love was the subject. Maybe you had a bad relationship, but since you've been famous, you never had a relationship. Or perhaps it wasn't public knowledge. Joe follows you upstairs into the kitchen, where you are pouring a glass of wine. He lifts you and sets you on the counter.

"So, who was this guy?"

"What guy?" You ask, sipping your wine. Joe stands between your legs.

"The guy who made you afraid of love." He replies, rubbing your thighs. You chuckle and put your glass down.

"I don't want to have this talk. I want my wonderful, strong, and very attractive boyfriend to take me upstairs and fuck me into the mattress. Is that so hard to do?" You throw back the rest of your wine. Joe scoops you up and takes you to the bedroom, where he, in fact, fucks you into the mattress.

"Feels good." You cry, riding him, letting your hands squeeze his as you feel the rush of another orgasm flood over you. You buckle over when Joe suddenly grabs your hands, thrusting into you faster.

"I'm going to always make you feel good, baby." He whispers. Your mouth falls open, feeling Joe pound away at your poor overstimulated cunt. Joe quickly pulls out and flips you over. He pumps his cock a few times and cums all over your stomach. You reach up for him, and he complies, bending down to kiss you. Joe carries you again toward the shower this time. After changing the sheets, you guys lay in bed watching movies. Joe stares at your body through the sheet as he massages your feet. You turn around, smiling.

"Should I put clothes on?" You ask, noticing the print under the white sheet. Joe shakes his head, his face becoming noticeably red. He slides his hands up your calves as you turn back to the TV. Joe slyly slides the sheet off of your body. He repositions himself so that he is hovering over your butt. You squeal when he takes a bite.

"Joseph!" You giggle, turning over on your back. Joe kisses up your body to your lips.

"Keep your clothes off." He whispers. You nod your head as he works his way back down. When he gets to his treasure, he places your legs on his shoulders. The moment is interrupted by your best friend barging into the room. Joe grabs a pillow to cover himself.

"Omg! I am so sorry!" Eliza covers her eyes.

"E, what the fuck?" You shout, getting on your knees.

"Sorry! But tonight you were supposed to go to Zendaya's birthday party. We're already late!" Eliza yells, backing out of the room.

"Fuck. Sorry, Give me an hour." You yell, scrambling to get out of bed.

"Umm." Joe sits on the bed awkwardly.

"Oh, right. Do you want to come? We can't go together, but if you come with E, I think it should be good."

"It's alright. I'll stay here and watch something."

"Are you sure?"

"No worries, go have fun."

You return to the bed to kiss him and hurry to your closet. Joe makes himself comfortable, but after two hours, he becomes bored and decides to explore your home. He starts in the living room, where you have photos of your three brothers and father. After you and he first hooked up, he might have done a small (deep) dive on you. It did help that his sister-in-law is such a big fan; all he had to do was listen to her rant. Even his cousins adored you, so getting his family to tell him all about you was easy. Unknown to him, you did your own research on him. Joe had spent some time watching your interviews. He loved how much you adored your family. He could see the genuine happiness they brought you every time you spoke about them. Joe hopes to be introduced to them one day. He put the photo down and made his way to your piano room. You started playing piano when you were seven and haven't stopped since. Joe liked that you had such a special talent. On top of being a phenomenal actress, you had an incredible ear for music. He could listen to you play and sing for hours. It's insane to him how you didn't get into the music business first.

"Hello?" Joe picks up a phone call from you.

"Hey. Missing you. Can you tell I'm a little drunk?"

"Yeah, baby. Are you coming home?"

"What do I get if I come home?" You slur into the phone. Joe leans against the wall smiling to himself.

"Come....find out." He says, emphasizing come. You giggle into the phone and tell him you are on the way home. And when you get home, Joe takes over your body for the rest of the night. In the morning, you feel like a brand-new person. You stand by the stove, humming and dancing as the bacon cooks. Joe sits on the counter, watching you.

"You are so beautiful. Do you know that?" Joe asks. You stop and roll your eyes.

"I'm in nothing but a t-shirt freshly fucked. My hair is all over the place. I look a mess." You complain.

"I think you look the most beautiful right now. Mostly because I helped you get to this state." Joe grins. You slap his knee and turn back to the stove.

"I have to fly back home today after this interview but don't ghost me again." Joe hops down. You nod your head, flipping the bacon. Joe wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

"Baby, I'm serious. I care about you." He says, turning you around. You look at him and give him a reassuring grin. But Joe can see it in your eyes; you are again in flight or fight mode. Joe links your fingers with his and kisses each one.

"I care about you too. I won't ghost you. I'm enjoying my time with you and where this is going."

"Good. Does it make you uncomfortable when I tell you I love you?" He asks you. You let go of his hand and turn toward the stove.

"I'm not uncomfortable. I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"Losing myself...again." You whisper the last part. Joe doesn't say anything, but his heart breaks for you.

"I won't let you lose anything."

"You can't promise that. When people fall in love, one person always falls deeper." You shake the feeling creeping up in your gut and start cooking again. Joe leaves you to your thoughts and packs his bag. Breakfast was a little more awkward than you wanted it t be; you tried to make small talk, but you could tell something was bothering Joe.

"If you want to end things, it's okay." You push your eggs around, and Joe puts his fork down.

"I don't. Let's talk again. I have to go now, but I'll call you. Come visit me when you can." He stands up and walks over to kiss you. Then a week goes by with no word from Joe, so you hope on the first flight to Ohio to surprise your boyfriend for a home game.

"You did amazing!" You squeal as he scoops you up.

"How long have you been waiting for me? If I had known you were coming, I would have hurried up. I still need to shower." Joe states fixing the towel around his waist. You lick your lips and pull your shirt over your head.

"I can help you with that." You say, unbuttoning your jeans. The smirk on Joe's face doesn't leave as he watches you tip-toe toward the shower. He stands by, watching you turn the shower on. The warm water hits your body, and you hold your hand for him to join you. Joe drops his towel, following you into the shower. He is very surprised at your spontaneous public session but doesn't complain one bit. How can he when he's losing himself while giving you the deepest strokes? Joe holds you against the shower wall tiles as you dig your nails into his shoulders.

"Fuck Joey right there." You cry out.

"Yeah, I know." Joe chuckles against your throat, leaving open-mouth kisses on your neck.

"Can I cum inside you?" Joe whispers. You nod your head, too fucked out to realize what he's asking at first. When your orgasm hits, you go limp in his arms.

"Yeah. Cum inside me." You mumble. This cause Joe to rapidly snap his hips, moaning your name and complimenting you on how good you feel. You can't help but let it all go to your head as he cums inside you for the first time. You spend five more mins making out and then finally get dressed.

"Oh yeah, your parents want to meet at their house. I was sent in here to tell you that. I'll meet you over there." You kiss him goodbye and leave. Joe quickly dresses but finds his athletic trainer there stunned.

"No fucking way. You are hooking up with-"

Joe covers his mouth before he can say your name.

"I need you to keep this quiet."

"Why? You are banging the hottest chick in the game right now. She is everywhere."

"I know, but please."

"Fine, but you owe me, Joe." He says, leaving. Joe prays that he doesn't open his mouth. Ever since you ghost him, he feels he needs to walk on eggshells to keep you from running. There had to be some reason you wanted things to be kept quiet. Joe arrives at his parent's house and finds you in the back, where everyone is around the bonfire. You stand up to give him your seat so you can sit on his lap.

"Your mom was getting worried about you." You whisper into his ear.

"Sorry, my girlfriend held me up." He answers back. You cuddle up to him, listening to his parents tell you stories of when Joe was younger. The night ends with you and Joe back in bed.

"I have to go to Italy for the next few weeks for some shoots."

"Is that why you came to see me?" Joe asks, sitting up. You stare up at the ceiling.

"I didn't want you to think I was ghosting you again." You lean on your elbow, turning to the side to give him your full attention.

"Can I ask you something?" Joe is ready to dive deeper into that head of yours.

"Go ahead."

"Why don't you want to go public about us? I'm sure there will be speculation when you've been to two games already and photos of you around my family."

"Which is why I've attended other sports games. I went to the Rams games a few times."

"But why? Why keep us a secret?" Joe asks, rubbing your hand. You slip your hand away and get up from the bed to grab your clothes.

"I should take a plan B." You say, going through your purse. Joe lays back down and stares at the ceiling. It seems he takes one step forward with you and two steps back.

"Can we talk without getting mad or changing the subject?" This time, Joe gets up and follows you to the bathroom.

"Joe, I can't give you the answers you're looking for. There are reasons I do what I do. I can't love you right now."

"What do you mean right now? Then when? Do you think I will wait around for you to love me?" Joe's voice comes out louder than he expected it. Both of you are shocked. You squeeze your palms so tight that your nails dig into your flesh. Joe looks down at your closed fists and tries to reach out, but you flinch away.

"Hey. Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice." Joe's voice is softer. Joe reads over your body language and takes a step back.

"I need to go. I have to catch a flight to Italy. I'll call you." You stand there waiting for him to leave the bathroom. Joe takes the hint and leaves you to get dressed. He sits on the bed panicking, but you come out of the bathroom in a different mood.

"I'll call you when I land, okay? If you have some time, you should come to visit me." You kiss his cheek and grab your phone. Joe doesn't walk you out because he's never been more confused in his life—the dry texting between you two last weeks. During Joe's bye week, he uses this time to fly out and see you. Eliza plans everything so when you return to your hotel from a long day of shooting; you find your boyfriend with roses. A feeling of guilt rises in your chest, and you drop your bag running over to him. Joe pulls you into his arms.

"I'm sorry for being difficult. I want things with us to work. If you give me some time, I think things with us could work out."

"Of course. That's what being in a relationship is about. We will work on things together."

"Thank you for coming to see me. It's been such a crazy schedule. I'm so tired. You don't have a game?"

"On bye week, so no game this week. I decided to come here, spend some days together, and fly back. So, are you going to show me a good time?" He asks. You nod your head eagerly. You show Joe the set and your trailer, telling him all about the movie's plot. Joe even gets to watch you in action.

"Who's your favorite actor?" Eliza asks while you guys have dinner at a local restaurant.

"Of all time or currently?"

"Currently, well, besides your girlfriend." Eliza gives you an elbow. You sip your wine and lay your head on your boyfriend's shoulder.

"My favorite actor right now is Jackson Taylor. I think he's amazing. I mean, I've probably watched every movie he's ever done. He's a good guy too. He has so many charity organizations too. I hope to collab with him one day. And he's from Ohio, so can't go wrong there." Joe laughs. Eliza looks at you, and your eyes are staring at the table.

"Nice." You comment, excusing yourself to use the restroom. Eliza watches you walk away and turns her focus to Joe.

"How much do you love her?" She asks, ready to give him the best friend shakedown.

"I'm in love with her completely. But I can sense she's not ready for that step. I want to take things as slow as she needs." Joe takes his card out to pay the bill.

"Be careful with her. She's fragile. But I think she's coming around these days. I haven't seen her so happy like this in a while." Eliza's comments stick with Joe all week. He knows there's more to the story, but he decided to take his time and let you tell him when you're ready. When you get back to the States, you go visit Joe. It's Christmas time, and you decide to spend the holidays with him. One year ago, you met at your cousin's wedding, and here you are, all lovey-dovey.

"Fuck, baby." Joe moans moving your hips as you ride him on the couch. Joe bites your shoulder, bouncing you up and down on his cock, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Don't stop." You cry, feeling yourself reach another orgasm. Joe flips you onto your back, pushing your legs to your chest.

"One more baby. Give me one more." Joe coaches another orgasm out of you as he fills you simultaneously. He grunts, and his hips stutter. Joe throws his head back and runs his fingers throw his sweaty hair. You lay there trying to catch your breath. Joe pulls out of you and reaches down to scoop you up for a quick shower. He kisses your back in the shower and tells you how much he loves you. Once both of you are fully dressed, you guys finish decorating your Christmas tree. Yeah, you both got carried away and decided to have sex in the middle of decorating.

"I did date someone before you." You place a snowflake on the tree and turn to Joe.

"Yeah?"

"I started dating him when I was 18. He was 30."

"What the fuck?"

"Umm yeah. It was hard for me to move on from him. The reason I can't go public is that he-I signed an NDA. And if our relationship ended, I couldn't date someone else for five years."

"What piece of shit did that to you?"

You shake your head.

"It doesn't matter. Joe, I'm happy with you. I want a future with you, so if you can just be patient with me, I can work this out."

"5 years...How long has it been?"

"3." You stop decorating to face Joe. He places his snowflake down and opens his arms.

"What he's doing can't be legal. There has to be some loop and-"

"No one knows besides Eliza. I was stupid and young, and new to Hollywood. I shouldn't have signed anything, but I thought he was my forever." You bury your face in Joe's chest as he rubs your back. Joe doesn't pressure you into telling him more about your ex; instead, he makes you his mother's famous hot cocoa, and you watch the polar express on the couch. Having Joe in your life gave you back the normalcy you craved. He was fun, caring, and loving. Joe always made sure you were comfortable and able to be yourself. In his eyes, you weren't a star; you were his world. Spending the holidays with Joe and his family left you feeling renewed. Joe has been asking to meet your family, but you're too afraid to take that step. What if things don't work out? What if Joe hates your family dynamic? What if Joe leaves you? What if-

"What are you thinking about?" Joe groans, kissing your forehead. You've been taking space in his home for the last few weeks. You didn't realize Joe was awake for the last 5 mins.

"Nothing. I have to fly home today. It's my dad's birthday." You close your eyes as Joe pulls you closer to his chest.

"Yeah?"

You loved waking up to Joe's deep morning voice. He always called you first thing in the morning when you were away from him.

"Would you like to meet him?"

"Are you sure?" He asks cautiously. You only nod your head. With Joe's season-ending because of the loss to KC, you thought that this was the right move. Joe will have a lot of downtime, so it's better to get the meeting over with. And with that, you find yourself making room for Joe in your own home. He arrives today, and you've already psyched yourself into him meeting your family. Everything needs to be perfect. But, of course, nothing goes your way. You get called into a last min appearance at some day party. Joe tells you it's okay, and he will find his way to the house. But Joe gets invited by Ja'Marr, who was there, so it works out for you. The place is packed with celebrities; you laugh and greet some friends and make sure to mingle with everyone because once you find Joe, you plan to stick by him for the rest of the party. That is, until you spot him. Ja'Marr is the first to see you and waves you over. You smile, walking over and hug him, Joe, and the man they're talking to.

"I can't believe we are talking to the legend himself, Jackson Taylor," Ja'Marr says excitedly. Joe agrees with the comment.

"Don't brag on me too much. I don't think I'm a legend yet." Jackson replies with a big grin.

"You are! Don't humble yourself. You are up there with Leo, DeNiro! You are!" Ja'Marr can't contain the excitement and asks you to get a photo of all three of them. You take his phone and snap a few pictures.

"How do you guys know her?" Jackson asks, placing his hand on the small of your back. Joe doesn't miss the way you stiffen.

"Who doesn't know her? She is also an amazing actress. She is on the cover of every magazine, and she's da-"

"My brothers are huge Bengals fans, so I took them to a few games." You interrupt Ja'Marr and take Jackson's hand off your back. Jackson takes this opportunity to hold your hand.

"You guys should do another movie together," Ja'Marr adds.

"What do you think, sunshine?" Jackson asks, kissing your hand. You nervously laugh and slide your hand out of his.

"That would be awesome. I need to find Eliza."

"Actually, you guys don't mind if I steal her away, right?" Jackson asks. Ja'Marr shakes his head, and Joe doesn't respond. Jackson takes your hand and pulls you away from the crowd. You snatch your hand out and walk in the opposite direction. Jackson follows you, calling your name. You bump into Joe and stumble back. He catches you and gives you a concerned look.

"I-"

"Joe Burrow. Look at us two Ohio boys. I wanted to talk to you about joining one of my charity events. Let's chat." Jackson steps in. Joe looks down at you, and you give him a weak smile.

"I'll leave you guys to it." You walk away to find Eliza and leave the party. But Eliza is currently chatting up some guy. You don't want to block, so you find a seat and stay there. Joe finds you sitting alone and takes a seat next to you.

"It was that piece of shit, wasn't it?" He asks you, eyes trained on Jackson, who is talking someone else up. You don't take your eyes off Eliza in the opposite direction. Joe shoots up, and you grab his hand.

"I'm ready to go home." You say with pleading eyes. Joe takes a deep breath, and you leave together. At home, Joe doesn't mention Jackson, but you know in the back of his mind he's dying to talk about it.

"How did you know it was him?" You ask, taking a seat next to him.

"When he touched you, you stiffened. Every time he spoke and we laughed at one of his stupid jokes, your face held a look of terror." Joe rubs your hand. Little things like that could bring you back to the surface, so you appreciate every small gesture from Joe.

"Oh. I thought I got better at faking it. But seeing you laugh with him, I feared he would take you away from me." Your voice is sad again, and Joe stands up and squats before you, cupping your cheeks.

"No one on this Earth can take me away from you."

"Joe, you don't know what kind of power he holds. He can have me blacklisted at the snap of his fingers. I don't know what I would do if he ruined your career too." You take Joe's hands off your face and stand up. Joe follows you to the kitchen.

"What are you saying?"

"We should break up. It's for the best that way; nothing can happen. I'm not breaking the contract and-"

"He can't hold that contract over you. You're a person, not an object. You can date whoever you want to date. Fuck that guy."

"Joe, please, you don't understand how this works. I won't go to jail, sure, but I will have my career ruined. I've worked so hard to get where I am. I can't let him take that away from me. My father gave up everything just to get me into auditions and school. I can't throw it all away. My career is too important!" You didn't realize you were yelling until the silence filled the space between you and Joe.

"I know you're scared, but he no longer controls you. Think about the people that would be behind you if you spoke up. Think about the women you will help keep him away from. Most importantly, think about how free you will feel after it all comes out. You deserve to be happy....to be loved."

You shake your head and step away from Joe.

"I'm sorry." You walk away, leaving Joe standing there, trying to find a way to fix this. But he is clueless for the first time when it comes to you. Joe finds you in the bedroom texting. You tell him it's over and that he should go home. There is nothing Joe can do but give space.

"She broke up with you? Out of nowhere?" Ja'Marr laughs, throwing his head back. Joe shakes his head and stares at his phone. His lock screen is a photo of you sleeping on his arm. He unlocks his phone to look at his home screen, which is another photo of you smiling down at him. It seems like an innocent photo, but you're in Joe's jersey riding him in that photo. Joe locks his phone and groans. He tried texting you, but you blocked him.

"Can't believe you messed that up. But since we both are single, we got invited to a party. There are bound to be bitches all over." Ja'Marr pulls Joe off the couch.

"I'm good. I'm going to stay here."

"Stay here and be sad? What kind of a best friend would I be if I let you do that? We are in LA; there are too many women for you to sulk about one, even if she is the hottest. Besides, I need a DD unless you want me to drink and drive!" Ja'Marr forces Joe to get dressed and come along to the party. Joe talks to a few people and mingles.

"Joey B! Am I allowed to call you that?" Jackson smiles, making his way over. Joe instantly stands up straight and glares at the older man.

"Joe is fine." He replies, correcting him. Jackson raises his eyebrow and nods.

"Thanks for coming to my party. I like to host these little events to have fun. You don't need to be football Joe; just be yourself." Jackson taps Joe on his shoulders with both hands. Joe removes his hand and tries to walk away.

"Is everything okay between us? Earlier, you were my biggest fan, and now I'm sensing animosity." Jackson crosses his arms over his chest. Joe wants to tell him to go fuck himself, but he has to protect you. This isn't protecting you.

"Everything is good. I'm tired, and Ja'Marr dragged me to this party. It's an honor to be here." Joe replies with a smile. It made him sick to his stomach to be conversing with him.

"Been there. So many of my friends dragged me out to parties; you get used to it, trust me." Jackson offers Joe a drink, but he declines. Joe continues to engage in unwanted conversations with Jackson, and when your name is mentioned, Joe mentally calms himself down.

"You guys seemed a little close at the party earlier."

"Not really," Joe mumbles, looking for Ja'Marr through the crowd.

"Seemed like it, but that one is quite the girl." Jackson smiles and laughs to himself.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Joe turns toward Jackson, facing him. Jackson is a few inches short than towering Joe. His aura is intimidating, but Jackson laughs it off.

"You know these young stars that get around. I wouldn't get mixed up with that one. There are rumors, and I'm guessing you would like to keep the title as America's All-American good boy." Jackson's smile isn't inviting or nice. Jackson is threatening Joe. Joe stares into his green eyes, not backing down.

"I think I can handle myself."

"Relax. It was a joke. You're a good kid. Enjoy the party. I'll have my people contact your people." Jackson bumps Joe's shoulder as he walks away. Fuck. He knows. Joe knows he knows. There is no way he doesn't know. Joe had one opportunity to protect you, and he blew it. He let his stupid anger get the best of him. Joe grabs Ja'Marr, and they leave the party. The next morning, Joe is one of the celebrities on the gossip blog.

Jackson, Ja'Marr, and Joe photographed at party together.

Joe stares at the photo of him all smiles with the man who ruined his relationship without even trying. He throws his phone and screams. You haven't unblocked him, and you probably saw the headline. He picks up his phone, logs into IG to find your page, and realizes he's blocked there too. Joe does the most desperate thing he has ever done and emails you.

"Why is Joe emailing you?" Eliza laughs, checking your email. You have your makeup artist stop so you can read the email.

"Can you block it? Thank you." You tell her, handing the Ipad back. Eliza takes a deep breath and blocks Joe's email. The door opens, and Jackson walks in. You sit up straight as the room clears. Eliza stands in front of you protectively.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm the executive producer of the show. I think I'm allowed to be on set." Jackson laughs. You stare at him through the mirror.

"What? Your name was not on the project at all. I wouldn't have let her book if-"

"Money talks. I'd like to talk to her privately."

"Go fuck yourself. Stay away-"

"It's okay." Your voice is meek. Eliza looks at you, and you give her a nod. She leaves the room. Jackson stands behind you, touching your hair.

"Do you know why you got this role?" He asks. You don't look at him; only focus on your hands. Jackson softly grabs your face and turns it towards him.

"I'm a good actress." You whisper. Jackson laughs a loud belly laugh. He wipes his fake tears.

"Sweetheart, you're not good at all. I told the director to hire you. I think this is a better way to keep an eye on you. I met your little boyfriend."

"I don't have a boyfriend. You made sure of that." You spit, snatching your face out of his hand. Jackson lifts your hand to kiss it.

"I care about you. If you get caught up with relationships, it will only mess up your career. This is how I look out for you. I'm always going to love you. I'm always going to care about you. Stay away from him."

"I don't know who you're talking about. I'm not-"

"Joe Burrow."

You don't move at the name, and Jackson smiles.

"Maybe you are a good actress. I'll see you out there, sunshine." He kisses your cheek and finally leaves. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You quickly put out hand sanitizer on your hand, trying to rub off his touch.

Joe flies back home to Cincinnati, heartbroken and confused. His brother opens the door, shocked to see his younger brother looking heartbroken.

"Is Janet here? I need to ask her something."

"What's up?" Janet appears almost out of nowhere.

"I need help with a contract. You're a lawyer, so I figured it makes sense." Joe says, walking into the living room.

"Your contract? What's going on?" Dan walks over, joining the conversation.

Joe takes a seat. If he's going to protect you, he needs to know everything on the contract. He doubts you will let him see it, but maybe Eliza would help in that area. Joe was going to do everything in his power to help you, even if that meant you couldn't be with him in the end.

A/N: Here is the Actress AU! I hope you guys like it. It will be different from Second String but still good! Let me know what you guys think! If it sucks, umm don't tell me! JK. I hope you guys are ready for the rollercoaster of fame and fortune! Joe is definitely all simp in this fic. He loves loves loves him some you! I will post a tg list soon so check the mater list for it!

#joe burrow x you #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow smut #joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joey b #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow fluff #FAIY #val writes

445 notes · View notes

canmom · 2 months

Text

dànachd canmom aig worldcon - pàirt 1: diardaoin

I'm at the World Science Fiction Convention! Better known as Worldcon.

Unlike previous adventures, this one didn't take me to any picturesque French towns. In fact it's like 15 minutes bike ride from my house! I managed to move to Glasgow right before Worldcon dropped in my lap.

Due to Events, the last few weeks before the con ha been some of the most hectic of my goddamn life, but I've been able to secure some time off. Things actually started on Wednesday night, when my friend and I wandered into the hotel at the convention centre on our way home and ended up fast friends with a group of people including a few big authors and editors in the scene, which was kind of wild. That's the con experience though! But things kicked off for real today on Thursday.

Due to a combo of minor medical emergency and then staying up late to finish off work after I finally got home, I got very little sleep that night, and sadly did not arrive at the con in time to catch Dune: The Musical. So most of the day ended up panels, though with an opera and a ceilidh at the end to spice things up, not to mention meeting like 90% of my old friends from uni, which is kinda sick. (Hello to the ones who follow me on here :p)

Here are some artstation-ass cars they had in the uh... the hall where all the little societies have stands.

Nearly every timeslot had multiple things I might want to attend, so I kind of played it by ear... and ended up weebing it up a little bit, attending two panels on anime and a presentation by the Japanese Scifi Writers Association.

The anime panels (on the subjects of food and music in anime respectively) were sadly quite disappointing. The panellists seem to have been chosen kind of arbitrarily - my friend dakkar knows his shit but there were a lot of banal 'what's your favourite x' type questions and a couple of panelists who either just wanted to bang on about basic shōnen shit as if it's all anime is, or were constantly mispronouncing Japanese words in a kinda painful way ("ai-sekai" being the worst). I was really hoping the food in anime panel might go into, for example, the historical context for why anime has such lavish depictions of food, or the technicalities of how food is portrayed. The discussion ended up going on to subjects like cooking recipes from anime and manga but honestly didn't really have a lot to say about it!

The way the panels seem to have been organised is, so far as I can infer... someone would pitch a description, and then the organisers would assign some people to be on that panel from a big pool? Which... idk, doesn't seem like it necessarily leads to selecting people with a lot to say on that subject!

I think I would have been wiser, in retrospect, to have gone to talks about sff lit, since in the end it's just not an anime con - something I'll bear in mind tomorrow. On that front, I did go to the presentation on Japanese scifi, which included the presentation of the Seiun ('nebula') awards to a couple of people whose works in translation were popular in Japan. In a bizarre quirk of programming, this one was run right next door to a panel on Chinese scifi, which is a real move lol.

Sadly this panel was marred by some pretty severe tech issues. Two of the panelists couldn't come to the UK due to visa bullshit, but the video call wasn't working, so Takayuki Tatsumi had to deliver a talk without being able to see his slides, and the slides were slightly in a different order than his talk. Still, I collected a nice list of JP SF authors whose works are available in translation, so looking forward to getting into that. Worse, there were other tech issues, like audio bleeding from another panel; a couple of the panelists struggled with English and the moderator ended up interpreting, which really isn't his job. Compared to the anime talks at Annecy, which had some very talented and fast interpreters, it was a bit of a disaster.

Due to all these issues, I didn't really get to figure out much of what Mari Kotani had to say about the links between shōjo manga and science fiction, a topic which sounds really interesting. Perhaps I can find her books.

The Seiun awards were given to John Scalzi, who showed up and got his prize for The Kaiju Preservation Society and was very polite about it...

...and Alastair Reynolds, who didn't show up to receive his giant fan.

I haven't read any of Scalzi's books, tbh they probably aren't my thing, but he seems like a really sweet guy from my encounters with him and his daughter yesterday and today. And I respect that he insisted on sharing credit with his JP translator.

The other panel I went to was a talk on magnets. This one was properly prepared - I learned a little about the geopolitics of rare earth production, and some of the cool new uses of magnets, though sadly at a fairly surface level. The presenter - who turned out to be a former aerospace industry guy who worked on the fucking Eurofighter Typhoon, now at some society that uhh promotes magnetism or something - mentioned that this is a talk he often gives at schools, and it did kinda feel like being back at uni. There wasn't a lot of good picks for this slot, but maybe the rocketry anecdotes panel would have been better. It was fun to play with the neodynium magnets and similar demos after the talk at least! I probably should have realised that having a physics degree meant I wouldn't learn very much from this talk.

I do hear there were some real good panels in other rooms, so I kind of have only myself to blame here. Tomorrow I'll try and learn from it!

Much better than all the panels was the debut performance of the new opera Morrow's Island, about a scientist conducting Cold War experiments to create psychic links with animals. I knew I was in for something great when one of the first lines was a scientist declaring 'There is no contradiction between dialectical materialism and extra-sensory perception' and it did indeed deliver.

I don't listen to a lot of opera, so I don't have a lot of context to analyse it musically, but it sounded great, full of cool polyphony and interesting melodic lines and the texture of repeating phrases, supported by the flowing motions of a group of contemporary dancers. The ending left me a little cold, but honestly it hit so many of the right notes for shit I'm a real nerd about - Soviet stuff, occult stuff, etc. - that I couldn't not love it. My favourite sequence saw the psychics make contact with the overwhelming complexity of ecosystems, summed up by the repeating phrase "there's so much life, there's so much death". The repeating phrases and gradual transitions called to mind Philip Glass to my admittedly very uncultured ear. Absolutely cool shit, definitely my favourite thing I saw today. I think they're putting a recording online.

The ceilidh, run by Science Ceilidh, was pretty intensely crowded at first so I ducked out. Later in the evening it got a bit more manageable so I returned to dance a bit more, and got to witness an astonishingly nerdy and complicated dance based on the life cycle of Dune sandworms. Surprisingly it went pretty smoothly - credit to the caller for making that work somehow.

I also wandered around the stalls a bit. I got some cool booklets about spaceflight, met a guy from the SCA, saw a 3D scanner scanning a vase, and didn't buy any books because I need to come back with a bag lol.

The best part about Worldcon is just meeting people from all over really. The con ribbons tradition is a great trick for encouraging nerds to talk to each other (though i need to get more...), and people have been very approachable for a crowd whose autism quotient must be near saturation lol. I met people from Finland, Australia, South Korea... mostly anglophone or european countries but still it's good shit. I'm starting to recognise more and more people in the crowd as the con goes on.

It really is so goddamn nerdy, like you look at this crowd and you're like damn, but in the best way, honestly. I am definitely no exception. Hopefully I make some better calls on panels tomorrow loll.

If you're in town, give me a shout, would love to meet more internetfriends!

#adventures of canmom #worldcon #glasgow worldcon

22 notes · View notes

joanvisitsrome · 3 months

Text

stars between us - ch.7 - h.c

I am actually so sorry for the wait. I've had some serious writer's block writing this, and then also have been so busy these past few days. I have decided to write an epilogue for this, since I'm literally having so many problems with parting with this series. I promise though, only 2 more chapters. Next chapter is the smut chapter btw 🤭 As usual, comment to be on the taglist, and feel free to send in requests!

Summary: You and Hazel embark on your first real date.

Contains: Fluff, light teasing, slight angst, hazel venting a bit, justin beiber reference, romeo and juliet reference, tybalt reference

I am genuinely so sorry for the amount of outside references in this. I think we can tell I genuinely had a lot of fun writing this. Yes, I know about french tybalt. And yes, i googled how many times they say Baby in the song baby.

You and Hazel agree to go out to dinner Friday night, and then hang out at her house after. Still fairly in shock from the day’s events, you make sure that Hazel wants this. After all, she had voiced how concerned she was to start something more than friendship.

“We’ll never know if we try,” she had said, head laying on your chest. “I kissed you because I realized that I was playing it too safe.” You nod, showing that you’re listening to Hazel while stroking her hair. She snuggles into your chest as you scratch her scalp.

“This is quite nice,” Hazel admits, “I haven’t felt this attended to in so long. It started about a year before my parents’ divorce. When they started fighting. And then they split up, and both were too hurt to help me. And now, my mom’s fucking Jeff, even though, that’s like, fucking illegal.”

“Well I’m gonna stay and take care of you whenever you need it. Okay, Haze?” you give her a soft kiss on the forehead before seeing the clock.

“I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay Haze?” you sit up on the bed and hold her hand.

“Yeah. I’ll walk you out.” Hazel walks you to your car, and makes sure you exit her driveway safely, waving as you exit her driveway.

The next few days at school go quite well. You sit with Hazel at lunch, discussing everything under the sun. Of course, you both had to endure a number of teasing exchanges from the rest of the fight club, from knowing smirks shot across the lunchroom, to kissing noises whenever the two of you walked by anyone in the fight club. They all knew that you and Hazel had the hots for each other, even though neither of you had said a word to anyone. You both agreed that it would be better for the both of you, and the sake of your relationship, whether that meant you got together or stayed friends, that your friends had no say in it. Which meant not talking about anything that had happened recently. They already knew enough from the camping trip anyway.

On Thursday night, Hazel comes over your house to study for a quiz the two of you had in Mr. G’s class the next day. After ‘studying,’ and totally not just saying a bunch of bullshit to each other, since Mr. G’s class was a joke, and the two of you didn’t want to study, the two of you got entangled in another make-out session. You straddled Hazel’s hips again, pulling her closer to you by her chains, as she held your waist, rubbing it with her thumbs. You didn’t realize it, but you were moaning in between kisses, but Hazel took large notice. She began to slip a few of her fingers under your shirt, testing the waters. To be honest, Hazel didn’t know how to respond to this, and was too scared to point it out, worried you may find her inexperienced.

“Hey, is this okay?” she says, out of breath. You don’t even realize that Hazel has begun to slip a few fingers under your shirt.

“Maybe not today, if that’s okay? I’d rather us be in a relationship before we started doing this.” you motion to Hazel’s hands, still holding on to your waist under your shirt. She quickly removed her hands and put her hands on your thighs, running them up and down slowly.

“I think that’ll be good. I’m glad you said that, since I was feeling that way too.” You give Hazel another kiss before getting off of her.

“Do you mind if I sleep here tonight? I think I saw my mom picking up Jeff after school today.”

“Of course Haze.” The two of you cuddle in your bed the whole night, tangled in the sheets. You have to admit, sleeping in Hazel’s arms sober feels amazing. You feel cared for and safe, causing you to fall asleep very quickly.

That Friday, the next day, school goes agonizingly slow. Minutes feel like hours, and hours feel like days. All you want is to go on your date with Hazel, and have a good time. That’s it. You daydream all day about your date, thinking out every single possible scenario. In case you two decide to be friends at the dinner? Check. In case you two make out in the back of her car? Check. In case you guys run into PJ stalking you two with binoculars? Check.

You practically run to your car when the last bell finally rings. You take your time getting ready for Hazel, making sure every strand of your hair was in place, that your outfit looked good, and that you looked absolutely perfect. Hazel notified you earlier in the day that she would text you when she made it to your house. Until then, you paced in your room, thinking up your possible situations again.

You receive a text from Hazel. i’m outside

You quickly grab your bag, take one last look in the mirror, and head outside, to see Hazel leaned up against her car. She’s wearing a white button-down shirt with small brown stripes going vertically, along with her signature bowler’s jacket, and black jeans. She straightens up seeing you, eyes widening at your beauty.

You truly were the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“You look… really nice,” she says while running around her car to open the door for you.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you reply wittingly as you get into the passenger’s seat.

“Do you like pasta?” Hazel asks, adjusting her seatbelt. You nod, already taking a huge breath of relief. This was already feeling a lot more natural than you thought it would. You begin to feel a lot more comfortable in mere minutes of the car ride. Hazel lets you know that she made a reservation at Olive Garden, to which you tell her was a great choice.

The whole car ride, you and Hazel spend your time talking about music, since Hazel had her playlist going. The two of you argue over who has the more superior music taste, spatting a few playful insults back and forth, and acting dramatically offended when the insult is pointed at each other.

“Would someone who has a superior music taste have Baby by Justin Beiber on their playlist?” you ask Hazel playfully.

“Yes! I believe that it’s a classic for our generation!”

“It says BABY fifty-six times! That’s not a classic!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Just admit it Hazel, you’ve got Beiber fever.” Hazel rolls her eyes, swatting her hand, as she pulls into the Olive Garden. She stops the car and runs around to open the door for you. You get out and hold Hazel’s hand after she clips her keys onto her carabiner.

The two of you are seated at a table for two, next to a wall. Hazel pulls out the chair for you, pushing you in before seating herself. The two of you order, and begin talking again. Much to your surprise, this is going quite normally. You expected things to be awkward, but it was almost like you two were meant to be together. Each thing you said to each other complimented the other perfectly, like two voices in harmony.

“You know, we’ve talked about me a lot tonight,” Hazel mentioned, “I want to learn more about you.” You nod, still chewing on your food.

“Ask away, Haze.”

“So other than reading and astronomy, are you into anything else?”

“Not really. I tend to just do things centered on that most of the time.”

“Well, what’s your favorite book?” Hazel asked, taking a sip of her water.

“I really enjoy Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. I know it’s pretty basic, and maybe a bit weird, but I really like re-reading it.”

“Romeo and Juliet? Please tell me your favorite character is Tybalt, at least.”

“Of course it’s Tybalt! He’s literally so underrated!” you exclaim.

“Have you heard,” Hazel asks, her voice low, “of French drag Tybalt?”

“It’s like you’re reading my mind.” you say, laughing. You genuinely feel like Hazel just gets you in a way that no one really understands. Matching your energy, not laughing at you for your niche interests, but instead, supporting them. This date had gone a lot better than you had expected, that’s for sure.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Hazel asks, during the car ride back to her house.

“Yeah, Hazel. What’s up?”

“Will you be my girlfriend? I know I said before that dating would ruin our friendship, but honestly, I haven’t been this happy in a long time. This date helped me realize that we really should be together. That, well, I truly want you to be my girlfriend, and that it’s not going to ruin anything.”

“I really want to be your girlfriend too, Haze.”

“So will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course.” You say this while pulling into her house.

taglist: @at1nyzen@slaughtercarrie@sophia2414@canmargesimpson @sam-cooperrr @rubycruzin4abruzin

42 notes · View notes

blossomwritesthings · 1 year

Text

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. | 𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

⬷ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab) // chan x fem!reader (afab)

genre: nonidol/collegegrad!felix. waitress!reader. college au. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. friends to enemies to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining. cheating. abusive boyfriend/ex. drama galore. the sexual tension is REAL in this one.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. felix is reader's estranged childhood bestie. chan is low-key an asshole in this ngl. heavy topics are mentioned such as: abusive/toxic relationships, cheating, and pathological lying. drinking/partying. the summer vibes are real in this one. there will be humor/fluff throughout to balance everything. and ofc smut too because who am i if not a whore for filthy felix smut. 😉

word count: 3.0k

summary: ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.

a/n: damn, I'm posting this SO MUCH later than I wanted to... but school just started back a few weeks ago and I've been swamped with uni hw and working full time and balancing a social life in between. 😩 so you'll have to forgive me if updates are kindaaa slow 💀 anywho- yay, they finally made up in this chapter!! things aren't completely resolved, for obvious reasons, but we shall see how things work out very soon~ 🫣

🌊 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The entire week after the party at Jeongin’s, you absolutely threw yourself into staying busy. Whether it was helping your parents out at Angel Waves by serving during the weekend dinner rush or studying for your first big exam for your Advanced Environmental Studies class, you were always on the go.

Soon after the drama ensued between you and Chris at the party, he stopped by your place to apologize.

Well, it wasn’t so much of an apology as it was an explanation.

And a long bout of making out afterward, too.

So thankfully, things were patched up between you and your boyfriend again.

That only left the chaos that was stretched between you and Felix.

You hadn’t seen him since your big blow-up at the Ice Cream Hut. And frankly, you weren’t in the mood to see him for a long while.

At least, that’s what you told yourself most of the time.

But when you noticed his absence on the beachfront every morning since the night of the party, you felt your heartstrings pull taut in an agonizing kind of way. When you began to miss the sound of his laugh and the soothing tone of his voice, you could feel the butterflies flit around in your stomach painfully.

Just like that, the two of you had already fallen back into a routine.

But you always knew that things were bound to collapse.

The murky pasts that you shared was like the elephant in the fucking room, and it just so happened to be the night of the party that everything came to a head.

It was late one Thursday night when you found yourself drifting off to thoughts of... him once more. You had worked a full day at AW but even though you were so fucking exhausted, you still had to catch up on some homework.

So there you were sitting at your desk in your bedroom, watching one of your professors drone on about the impact of Australian coral reef bleaching. Usually, you were very interested in your studies. But lately, you could feel your resolve slipping.

You could practically feel your focus going down the drain, as your mind was taken up with thoughts and worries of Lee Felix. You were still angry at him for what he had insinuated about your boyfriend that night. But mostly, you were just sad that he hadn’t fought for you.

That he hadn’t tried everything in his power to keep you from leaving his side at the Ice Cream Hut. You were still angry about the past, too. About the feelings that he had hurt just by leaving your side that fateful day during your graduation ceremony.

Your computer screen flashed, as the lecture you were watching changed to show a table graph that related to what your professor was teaching at that moment. You could feel a headache start to bloom between your temples from how much you had been studying and how worked up you still were about everything.

Taking in a deep sigh, you resigned to giving yourself a five-minute break from studying to regroup and re-focus your mind. Soon, you found yourself outside, standing on your parent’s front porch and gulping in the fresh sea breeze.

With it being so late out, the waning crescent moon was shining high in the sky, casting a silvery, ethereal kind of glow onto the brown sand below. The high tide lapped at the shore, the deep waters of the coastline looking murky and endless to your eyes.

It was as if you were suddenly possessed by a beautiful Selkie that was hidden just in the depths of the ocean, because soon, you were pulling away from the front porch, bare toes dragging through the soft sand as you made your way towards the shoreline.

Soon, you were wading through the chilly water, wiggling your feet against the moving silt just at your heels. The sound of the biting cerulean sea dancing all around you seemed to lull an aching part in your soul. And soon, you could feel yourself irrevocably relaxing.

Almost like, the filmy ocean waters were melting away the pain that you had been carrying onto for so very long. It was lifting the heavy weight off of your shoulders, soothing your broken heart, and trying its very best to mend the tear in the pit of your soul.

“You shouldn’t be out here so late at night- it’s dangerous.”

The deep voice that resonated out quietly behind you caused your entire body to jolt awake. Spine going completely straight, you fixed your eyes on the horizon before you, gaze drifting up to the shining moon above your head.

And when you didn’t reply, the man behind you continued.

“What are you still doing up?”

You were silent for a few beats, fists clenching and unclenching at your sides as you held in your rising anger. You could already feel it boiling up inside of you from having to deal with his presence again. You continued staring out into the sea, watching the black inkiness of the ocean depths.

“I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t think you’re-”

“Just leave me the fuck alone, okay?!” You suddenly burst out, turning around on your heels, gaze catching with his. His blonde tresses were disheveled, and the white tee he was wearing was wrinkled at the collar. He just gaped at you, with an unreadable expression on his face, lips pressed together in a single firm line and jaw ticking only slightly. “You’ve done enough already.”

Then you were walking away without another word. You didn’t have the energy or patience to deal with his bullshit any longer. Your heart was weak enough as-is. You didn’t need any more abuse towards it.

Especially from him.

You didn’t stop trekking through the warm, slick sand until you felt a firm hand wrap around your wrist, gripping on tight and keeping you from moving any further. You stopped in your tracks, breathing coming out in sharp puffs.

“Wait, Y/N, I-”

Ripping your hand out of his grasp, the blood in your veins shimmering from the way his fingers had felt against your skin - all warm and faint - you could feel the anger rising in the corners of your vision. Painting everything in red again. “I hate you, you know that?”

For a few beats, there was utter silence.

And then,

“What?”

Regard focused on your childhood house that wasn’t too far off into the distance now, your shoulders set with a rigid kind of resolve. “You heard me,” you began, voice low as death and tone cold down to the marrow. “I fucking hate you- have since years ago and-”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

Finally getting fed up with his blatant disregard for your feelings, you twisted around to face him again. Coming up into his space, you pressed a finger into his chest, for the moment ignoring the hard muscle you could feel there. Gazing up into his eyes with narrow eyes, you seethed out. “You don’t get to fucking abandon me and disappear out of nowhere, and then come back around here and act like you know what’s best for me. Don’t act like you know me because you don’t- we’ve both changed and you’re too much of a coward to admit that.” Your voice wasn’t raised in anger. Instead, it was deep and gravelly, throbbing with emotion.

Because although you were angry beyond belief, you were also sad out of your mind.

Then without another word, he was wrapping a few fingers around the one you were jamming into his chest, pulling it away from himself and squeezing there gently. “Every day that I was gone- I died a little bit inside. It killed me to be met with utter silence every time I needed someone to turn to. I missed you so much, I would lie awake in my bed late into the night, aching so much I could hardly fucking breathe- I’d wake up and my limbs would shake from all of the agony.” He was staring down at you, and only then did you realize how close the two of you were. Faces just a mere hairsbreadth from each other.

“Why did you do it, Felix?” You found yourself asking, voice breaking at the end of your words as the cloudiness began to form at the edges of your vision. “I needed you, you know that? I needed you so fucking much and you-”

The tears overwhelmed every part of your system after that, shaking your shoulders and making your legs wobbly. And then Felix was wrapping both arms around your waist, holding you close and pressing the side of your cheek against his warm chest.

“I know- I know,” he choked out, sounding like he was on the verge of tears as well. One of his hands rose from your hips, stroking through your strands of hair gently. “I just- couldn’t deal with the fallout of everything. Like a fool- I left without a word and stayed away. And then one day- I got in contact with Jisung again and he mentioned you and I… I lost it and I knew that it was time for me to finally come home.”

You pulled away from his chest at his words, gaping up at him with slightly parted lips. The tears blurred your vision, making him out to be a smudge against the brilliant starry sky. The moon hung low on the horizon, casting a supernatural kind of glow down onto his blonde tresses and milky skin.

“B-But why, Felix?” You needed an answer. A final and definite one. You were sick of beating around the bush, skirting around all of the issues. For years, ever since your colossal blowup, you had been wondering and obsessing over the sole reason why he had done what he had. Why he had caused everything to go to shit in just a single fucking night.

The silence lapsed between the two of you, and after a few beats, his hand was pulling away from your scalp, moving around to your face. A gentle thumb caressing underneath one of your eyes to wipe away the falling tears, he let out a quiet breath, freckled cheeks dusted with the pinkish hue of sentiment. His finger swiped against your cheek like the kiss of a butterfly wing.

“I think you already know why, angel.”

That nickname…

Angel.

The one he used to use on you ever since you were little kids.

It caused something deep inside you to stir. Something unknown and scary to break apart deep inside of your heart - dancing and leaping around in your soul and painting your mind in an effervescent light of happiness and mirth.

Because no one had ever called you that besides him.

And it had been over four years since you had heard him utter it.

Low, sultry voice wrapping around the word, the sound of it floating out of his mouth and tickling your ears delightfully.

His confession came out all whispery, just barely louder than the waves lapping at your feet. They were meant for your ears only, and at that exact moment, you understood everything.

Lee Felix peered down at you like you were his whole world.

His everything,

And so much more.

And he had been the same thing for you, for so very long.

But then Chris stepped into your life and turned your entire world on its axis.

“You really hate him that much, then?”

“I wouldn’t choose him for you if he was the last man on earth.”

“He’s not that bad, Felix.”

“Hell- I’d rather you date Jisung instead!”

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him, the corners of the night sky starting to become clear again as the tears staved off rather slowly. “You seriously can’t mean that.” Although Jisung had been both of your friends since elementary school, the man was notorious for being horrible with the ladies. He couldn’t charm the pants off of a woman if his life depended on it.

But he was one hell of a good guy and the most loyal person you'd ever met. In your mind, he had always taken a close second place next to Felix.

And when Felix moved away and left you in utter silence…

Well, Jisung was there to help you pick up the pieces.

And Chris, too.

But he was your boyfriend.

And boyfriends were much different than best friends.

Felix reached forward, tucking a loose strand of your wild, windswept hair behind one of your ears. “I just think- he’s not the right guy for you, that’s all,” he canted his head to the side in a quizzical way, trying to find the right words that were jumbled up in his mind. “I never liked him, even before the two of you started dating in high school.”

You raised an eyebrow his way, mind buzzing with millions of questions. Ones that had been left unanswered since you were a young seventeen-year-old girl. “What is it about him that irks you so much?”

He shrugged slowly, the hand clutching on a little tighter to your hip, the other fingers going back to card through your hair. “Honestly, it’s hard to pinpoint… he just, rubs me in all of the wrong ways.”

“And do you think every man that dates me will rub you the wrong way?” You asked, playfully shoving at his chest and putting a minuscule amount of distance between the two of you. The moon was out, and with it being so late at night, the breeze was cool against your skin, forcing shivers to course up your spine.

“Yeah, I think so,” he shot you a devilish grin, the kind that spread across his mouth and brightened up his entire face. But then suddenly, his eyes were darkening and his smile was turning into the serious press of a frown. “You’re too perfect to give up to some cunt of a man- I want to see you with someone much better than him. Someone more… competent.”

Poking a finger into the hidden dimple at his cheek, you laughed heartily at the remark. “Well, that’s never gonna happen because no man is 'competent.' They’re all assholes, except some aren’t as bad of ones.”

Just then he was leaning into your space again, breathing in your scent with a wicked smirk slashing against his lips. “And where do I stand on the totem pole of assholes, huh? Am I the lowest of lows or middle ground?”

Your eyes trailed up to the sky above, searching the stars for an answer. “Hmm- I’d say…” You let yourself drawl on, focus coming back onto him, and his face that was illuminated in the deep twilight. Blonde locks messy from the beach breeze at your side and pearly white teeth showing against a pretty pink mouth. Fuck- that mouth. Why had you never noticed it before? It was so perfect - shaped like a springtime rosebud, red and rosy and so fucking kissable and… Wait. Why were you thinking about his lips? “I- uh, I’d say-” You found yourself stuttering over your words in the next beat, breath catching painfully in your chest as you tried to rip your eyes away from those lips.

“It’s alright, I get it. Such an extraordinary man like me is hard to pinpoint.” Those lips ticked up higher into that familiar smirk of his, forcing your heart to skip over itself about a million times in just under a single minute. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold the judging against you.”

That seemed to break the trance that you were in, and soon, your regard was traveling up his face again, past his regal nose and sharp cheekbones, and locking onto his eyes. He stared down at you with those imploringly. They were dark against the night atmosphere, swimming like the swarthy oceans below, with a myriad of colors and feelings. Dark brows suddenly crumpled together, and it looked like he was about to say something in that halted moment. In that tender, delicate space that had suddenly formed between you.

“I need to get back inside. It’s getting late and I still have to finish studying.” You finally said, breaking through the bated silence that had fallen between the two of you in the last few moments.

Felix nodded once, but he didn’t seem all that committed to the idea. Almost like, it killed him to leave that space with you. To abandon that tightrope that the two of you were balancing on just then.

“Yeah, I’m pretty beat myself.” He said, rubbing a nervous hand at the back of his neck.

Backing up slowly, you started to float towards your parent's house once more. As you neared the front porch steps, you heard the rustling of fabric behind you and turned to see Felix had followed you to the house.

He shrugged, once, gaze leaving your form and traveling over to his own parent's house just down the way. “Figured it’d be safest to see you to the door.”

Rolling your eyes at him in annoyance, you took the first two steps up to the front door. You could feel his eyes on you, stare burning two searing holes into your skin with each small movement that you took. Growing further and further away from him.

“See ya tomorrow, bright and early?” His voice carried out between the distance around you, serenading your ears and dancing in the depths of your soul.

You didn’t even spare him a full glance, just tilted your head to the side and offered him a crooked smile. “We’ll see…” You let your words trail off into the misty night, the high clouds above carrying them up and off into the watery distance of the shoreline. Then, you were slinking across the threshold of your house and closing the door behind you with a soft click.

To be continued...

🌊 taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added!! to be removed from the taglist, please send me a msg and i will promptly take you off of the list.

🌊 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98 :: @sherryblossom :: @priincehoseok :: @biribarabiribbaem :: @/leyknxw :: @linovely :: @lolqxv :: @linonyang :: @morningstardada :: @taeriffic :: @day6andetcetera :: @hyuka-luvbot :: @linohumina :: @urmomma0324 :: @poisonivy2 :: @nappynapnaps :: @/annsunakai :: @bellamuerte1987 :: @julciaqwerty :: @abbiestearsricochet :: @leeknowsramen :: @maeleelee :: @cb97breathing :: @armystay89 :: @drhsthl :: @skzcollision :: @noellllslut :: @skz-streamer :: @hello-2-u-from-me :: @h0p3l3ssromantic :: @bangchanbighandsome :: @imastraykidsfan :: @feellikecinderella :: @hyundumpling :: @/weirdkoaladuck ::@hyunnieshannie :: @astralis-is-typing

a blue tag means that there was an error in tagging you. please check your settings for further information.

126 notes · View notes