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#Loved the booth last year <3
satorisoup · 7 months
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ᰔ CANDY GRAMS ft. rintaro suna
ʚ CW : secret admirer. manager! reader.
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ʚ hq valentine’s series mlist ಇ
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every year on valentine’s day, your schools student body sets up a booth for candy grams. $2 to send a cute little message to your loved one with little lollipops and candied hearts. the line would stretch all the way down the hall with students eager to buy one, the end of the line grumbling at their time wasted when they heard the shout of “sold out!”. it was a huge tradition that the students never failed to miss, as it would always cause an uproar of excitement along with the funds being donated to whatever cause.
it’s your second year at inarizaki highschool, and you were luckily privileged enough to become the manager of the volleyball club during the second half of your first year, being a new student, despite the insane amount of girls who had applied for the spot. you had made it extremely clear that no, you were not interested in the twins, no, this wasn’t a plan to get one them to fall in love with you, and no, you weren’t a secret spy for a fangirl instagram account trying to gather information. all things accounted for, you were accepted into the position.
now as a second year, you had kept your word on not falling for the infamous volleyball twins who in reality were just dumb teenage boys that talked your ear off with their constant nagging and immature jokes. however, the one who had caught your eye was the middle blocker with the #10 jersey, rintaro suna. they never said you couldn’t have a little crush on him, right? and even despite having quite the interest in him, you would never act on it, as you seemed to be good friends with him along with the twins, not daring to ruin the friendship or break the trust with the club.
suna was a nice person to be around, his sense of humor was infectious and he was a good, more tame break from the rambunctious person known as atsumu miya, even though they did tend to occasionally get into mischief when together. he was blunt in the ways he showed that he cared, and you recall the moment you realized you had feelings for him when you had accompanied him at the store to get a snack before practice. he had asked you if you wanted anything, and you had told him you didn’t have any money with you.
“i didn’t ask if you had money. i asked what you wanted.”
it left you blushing for the rest of the day, walking out of the shop with a cookie in hand and hearing “why didn’t ya pay fer me?!” fall out of atsumu’s mouth in complaint. you knew in your heart you definitely couldn’t deny it now, you had fallen.
the date marked february 14th, valentine’s day, and just like last year, the halls were bustling in delirium as the line stretched from one end of the courtyard to the other. you slung your bag over your shoulder and continued to walk to your designated class, overhearing the cheers of the people who finally made it to the front of the string of students. making your way to class and taking your seat, you prepare to take on the day as if it were any other.
eventually, the period before lunch had rolled around, and the person passing candy grams from each class had reached your door. you could feel the anticipation of your peers as the student began dropping each one off to certain desks. 1 here, 3 there, 5, wow that’s quite a few.
after most of the class had received their special gifts, whispering the notes their partners had left for them to one another, you had expected the deliverer to make their leave and be on with it.
your assumptions hadn’t been correct, when you see that they had made their way to your desk.
“10 candy grams for miss l/n, here you go!”
wait what?
you caught a few quiet gasps and small whispers from some of your classmates as your desk had been filled with a whopping number of 10 candy grams. even you had wanted to gasp yourself, but you really did not want this attention on you.
after everyone had quieted down a little more, you took the gracious opportunity to check the pink slips of paper on each packet of treats.
“to: y/n.”
again, you checked another slip. then another, and another for good measure. to your upmost confusion, every single slip you had was completely nameless. before you could comprehend exactly what was going on with these mysterious sweets, class was being dismissed for lunch.
“buying candy grams for yerself? that’s pretty depressin’.” atsumu bellowed at you when you had walked up to your friends, arms almost overflowing with your gifts.
“im not that cheap, you idiot…there’s 10 here, and ALL with no name.” you scoffed back at him.
“maybe it’s yer stalker.” osamu had countered, eyeing the bags.
“oh yeah, how lovely that would be. quit trying to scare me, osamu.” you deadpanned. “where’s suna?”
“dunno. so, ya gonna share that candy or what?”
“really miya? you’re both holding an entire grocery bag of them. i’ll see you guys at practice.” you walked off, still pondering on the thought of who it could be.
you still hadn’t managed to find suna within the midst of this entire situation, wanting to get his input. despite the so called “thrill” of having a secret admirer, you didn’t really seem to care. you wanted suna, and you wanted it to be him who was sending you stupid pieces of candy and dumb notes. that however, is a wish that could never be granted no matter how bad you yearned for it.
it’s the last half of the day by now, most classes having been visited by the deliverer, disregarding a few. mostly extra candy grams were being passed to the people who didn’t receive them before lunchtime. you practically ignored the lesson your teacher was explaining, too caught up in your thoughts to listen. 10 candy grams, no name, suna has practically disappeared. when class had been dismissed, you passed by your locker in hopes of putting the treats in there for later, but when you opened the latch, you had yet another surprise waiting for you.
10 more packets of candy dribbled out of your locker, a couple landing by your feet as if to mock you. you scamper to pick them up with a huff, and when you start to shove them in with the rest in your locker, miserably failing to fit them all inside, you come to an immediate realization.
atsumu is the only person who unfortunately knows your locker combination, back when you had held his lost textbook for him until he could get it back.
it dawned on you in an instant, of course, this was atsumu’s idea of humour, a perfect valentine’s day prank.
you roll your eyes at the idea of the twins antics, but also began to feel a tinge of sadness when you came to your conclusion, a hint of hope in the back of your mind that maybe, it was the one your heart had longed for who was up to this, but you’re quick to shut it down. with an upset slam of your locker, you head to the gym.
feet that slowly skid onto the concrete stairs was all that could be heard, and your shoes squeek against the vinyl flooring of the inarizaki gym when you enter. as you prepare to tell off atsumu, a voice interrupts you.
“what’s up with you?”
it was suna, his head cocked to the side with a slight furrow in his brow.
“im trying to find atsumu, he’s really done it this time…”
“and what did he do?”
“he thought it would be a funny idea to prank me! on valentine’s day of all days! sending a mountain of candy grams that won’t even fit in my locker…there wasn’t even a name on them. and it made me think…” you interrupt yourself before you accidentally say too much, “it’s just dumb yknow?” you huff.
“i figured you would think something dumb like that.”
“… huh?”
suna starts to dig into his bag, hand reaching in and then back out. one of his arms extended out to you, holding one of the same cellophane bags that had been taunting you all day.
this one held a cookie, the same kind as that day back at the store, and when you open the note, you can feel yourself grow lighter.
“to: y/n.
you’re kind of a dunse.”
and this time, there’s an indicator of the sender on the slip of paper, in the same handwriting as all of the others.
“R. S.”
you look to suna with widened eyes and a growing blush to your cheeks, your mouth slightly ajar when you ask him,
“…it was you?”
suna softly smirks at you, his hidden facade of mischievousness breaking as he replies,
“yeah, you should really think before you trust a miya with your locker combo.”
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leitmotif · 2 years
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was not looking forward to going to work today (having a hashimotos flare up 😔) but today was my A/V training day and it was actually really nice :] tech booths always feel like home 2 me... once a techie always a techie
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theemporium · 1 month
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[10k] an investigative study into the mysterious fish that saved his life; by oscar piastri with the assistance of logan sargeant, google searches and a crush that makes a man blind to the obvious signs that his coworker is a mermaid.
happy birthday @scuderiahoney!! for one of my fav people and one of my fav spirals we have had together<3
inspired by this moodboard
warning: mentions and descriptions of drowning!! idk why that wee bit went angsty but it did so be warned!!
.
THE PREFACE 
Oscar Piastri never considered himself a ‘go with the flow’ kind of guy, but more of a ‘never have a plan’ kind of guy instead. 
He likes to let fate guide his decisions, or at least that’s what he told himself. That the universe was looking down at him and putting him where he needed to be. 
Because it was fate that he read the wrong room number, ending up in an ocean wildlife conservation lecture rather than the mechanical engineering one he was meant to be in. 
Because it was fate that he found a map, with a small seaside town circled, in the glovebox of the secondhand car he managed to save up and buy. 
Because it was fate that that very seaside town had one of Australia’s biggest ocean conservation programmes that was currently accepting applicants. 
Because it was fate that the dodgy, beachside cabin he bought for ridiculously cheap ended up being home to a stray dog who would become his best friend. 
Because fate was the only explanation for so many things in Oscar’s life that he never planned to happen nor did he believe would’ve just happened if he followed along the way he was. He chose to believe that there was some superior being up there that was making sure he was sticking to the path that was meant for him. 
And so far, it hadn’t led him astray. 
In fact, all things considered with his mother’s constant questioning and uncertainty of him moving so far from home for the programme, things had been working out pretty well for Oscar. 
He enjoyed the routine he had settled into in the almost year of being in one of Australia’s most picturesque, scenic seaside towns. 
Every morning he woke up just before sunrise, when the sky was breaking into pinks and oranges and yellows. He would shuffle his way into the kitchen, pouring a bowl of kibble for Buddy and a bowl of cereal for himself before taking a run along the beach (that was essentially his front garden) until the sun was in the sky. Some days he hit the water, most days he tried to stop Buddy from eating the jellyfish that had washed up on the beach. 
He would have a quick shower, put out some more food for Buddy before riding his bike fifteen minutes towards the water park (because unlike the others, he listened to Sebastian’s talks on lessening your carbon footprint). 
He would greet Alex and George by the door, the two already arguing or disagreeing about something or the other. 
“Alex, they have to show you proof of university ID to get a student discount!” 
“They looked trustworthy!” 
He would pass by the gift shop where Lando would be sitting on the cashier counter, swinging his legs back and forth and fiddling with the speakers to play whatever music he was feeling that day. 
“I’m telling you, Aussies love country music, Osc. You’re clearly the odd one out.” 
Some days, he would pass by Charles and Max by the tourist booth, bickering back and forth about the customer shows and tours for the day. 
“I can’t dedicate thirty minutes of my tour to you, Charles.” 
“But the penguins have learnt new tricks!” 
Other days he would pass by the labs where Sebastian would stick his head out, waving at the boy and throwing some weird and wondrous fact at him. 
“Hey, Oscar, did you see that the squid killer parasite was treated successfully last week?” 
And some days Sebastian stayed in the lab, the door closed and locked behind him which told Oscar and the others that Mark, the park’s owner, was visiting. 
And by the time Oscar reached the staff room to drop his stuff off in his locker and prepare for the day, Logan would’ve somehow hunted him down and began yapping his ear off about something or the other before he eventually brought up his favourite topic. 
The crush Oscar had on you. 
“You must be happy this morning,” Logan commented offhandedly as they left the main building, heading down towards the animal habitats. 
“As opposed to every other morning when I’m always angry and upset?” Oscar deadpanned, shooting the American a look. 
“Just thought you would’ve had a small mood booster after seeing the rota,” Logan shrugged, but there was a mischievous and knowing glint in his eyes. “Heard you were on the late shift.” 
Oscar narrowed his eyes. “Uh huh.” 
“On the late shift with a certain someone,” Logan continued. “Someone you happen to—”
“Do you have to do this every time?” Oscar asked, deadpanned.
But Logan was already nodding. “Yes, it brings me great joy when you try to act nonchalant and then lose your mind in front of her.” 
Oscar scoffed. “I do not lose my mind in front of her.” 
“Hey, guys!” 
Oscar felt his mouth run dry when he turned his head to find you already out on the dock by the dolphin enclosure. It was embarrassing the way his brain went blank, the way his eyes were glued to you—your outfit no different to the uniform both he and Logan and everyone else wore—and not a single coherent thought could leave his mouth. 
He felt Logan jab him in the ribs, kickstarting his brain and letting out an awkward garble before he managed to blurt out, “Heyo!” 
He wondered if jumping into the tank with the dolphins would save any of his dignity. 
“What he meant to say was hey back,” Logan called out, far too smiley as he tried to hold back his glee. “You’re out here early.” 
“I was teaching Rufus a new trick,” you explained, something quite fond in your voice as you turned to smile at the dolphin who was currently nudging a ball towards you. “And then Gizmo felt left out so I played with him a bit too.” 
Logan raised his brows. “With one ball?” 
“I’m creative,” you shrugged. “If you were working in the dolphin enclosure, I would’ve taught you my tricks, Sargeant.” 
“Well, you can always teach Oscar!” Logan said, giving his friend a slightly rough slap on the back which caused him to stagger forward. “I’m sure he would love to learn anything you wanna teach him!” 
Oscar shot Logan a glare. 
Logan only grinned wider. 
“I’ll see if I can make him a dolphin whisperer,” you teased, lighthearted and playful and unaware of the lingering tension between the two boys. You turned to Oscar with a kind smile on your face, one that kind of made his brain go fuzzy. “It’s been a while, Piastri. I’ve missed working with you.” 
And Oscar could feel his cheeks burning up but he couldn’t bring himself to care as he mirrored your smile, his heart beating wildly in his chest. 
“I’ve missed it too,” Oscar replied, sincere and genuine. 
He did. He really did. Because despite all of Logan’s taunting and teasing about Oscar’s crush on you—which was very much real—he also appreciated you as a friend. He had since the day you both started, anxious and eager and leaning on each other for support since day one. 
Just somewhere along the line, Oscar managed to catch some feelings he couldn’t quite shake away. But it was fine. He had them under control. He had long ago accepted they wouldn’t be requited and he would let them run their course before the friendship returned to normal—whilst you were none the wiser. 
“The dolphins missed you too,” you added. “That’s just ‘cause you feed them an extra herring.” 
“I gotta bribe them!” Oscar defended. “You have some secret bond with them. It’s not fair.” 
You snorted. “Well, lucky for you, you’re on swimming duty. Get that wet suit on, Piastri.” 
And then, you flashed him a wink and turned around and—
Yeah, Oscar was far from moving on from how he felt about you. 
But it was fine. Because Oscar Piastri was the kind of guy who let fate take the reins for him. 
Because fate led him to this town. Because fate led him to this job. Because fate led him to you and all the others he had bonded with to make a dysfunctional but supportive family. 
Because it was fate that led him to making one of the biggest discoveries in his life. 
THE SIGHTING 
It was as normal as a morning could be. 
He had woken up a little earlier than his alarm, a weird and unsettling feeling in his chest that he brushed off as the few hours of sleep he had managed to get. Buddy wasn’t much better, not as eager to get out of the house as he usually was when Oscar stood by the door for their morning walk. 
It was a little chilly, enough to warrant Oscar wearing a jumper as they wandered down the beach until Buddy felt a little more relaxed and playful. 
But by the time they returned to the house, Oscar was still wired with some restless energy itching under his skin and still three hours until his shift started at the park. 
He thought a quick go at the morning waves would help settle the feeling buzzing through his body before he started scratching at his own skin. 
The water was cold and refreshing and definitely washed away any last dregs of sleep that Oscar had been clinging onto. The exhaustion was long gone, now replaced with a different type of adrenaline that made him seek out the waves that made him work for it. 
It was still early, far too early for many people to be on the beach. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon and Buddy was still half asleep on the beach by his towel, no real rush to join Oscar in the water any time soon. 
Everything was fine. 
Everything was normal. 
The morning sun was starting to shine through, but instead of fluffy, white clouds like the forecast had assured, large, dark clouds were taking over the barely blue sky. It was disconcerting, especially when the waves seemed to be getting rougher. 
He took one glance down at his watch, assuring himself he had enough time for one more wave before he headed back to shore to get ready for his shift at the marine park. With a deep breath, he narrowed his eyes at the water and began paddling with his hands. 
The wave didn’t look too big or risky. It should have been an easy attempt, one that Oscar could do with little to no thought on a day with good weather. But the wind was stronger than he realised, the water more temperamental than he assumed and it didn’t take Oscar long to realise that this wave wasn’t going to end well. 
But the panic didn’t start setting in until the wave washed over him, knocking him off his board with little time for him to take a breath before he went under. He could feel the current tugging his body in different directions, pulling his arms one way whilst the leash around his ankle pulled him in the opposite direction with his board. 
And no matter how hard he kicked his legs and propelled his arms, he couldn’t seem to get any closer to the surface. 
It hit him that he was absolutely fucked when he could feel his lungs starting to burn.
Buddy would be left on the beach, whining and crying out for Oscar until someone found him. Or, god forbid, the loyal dog would try to swim out and find him himself. Oscar was all he knew, the only family Buddy had ever known and it was clear that the dog loved him. It made him feel a twisted sort of pain at the idea of leaving the dog behind. 
People at work would be confused when he didn’t turn up for his shift. Logan would probably be the first to notice when he spends far too long waiting for Oscar in the staff room, watching the clock with a frown. The blond would probably offer to drive out to his house to check up on him. Charles would probably offer to join and might even offer to drive if he could see the boy’s hand shaking too much. He wondered if you would join. 
Sebastian would probably have to call his family back home, to tell them. His stomach twisted into something bitter and awful at the thought of leaving his family behind, of never being able to hug his mother again or tease his sisters or surf with his father. 
His body stopped fighting at one point, too tired to even attempt to reach the surface. But his brain kept going, kept haunting him with the life his family and friends would lead whilst he continued to float and float and—
And then he saw it. 
It was blurry, his vision dotted with black and white blobs as the overwhelming urge to close his eyes took over his body. But he saw it. He saw the flashes of orange, the scales glimmering in the little light under the surface. He saw a fin and scales and then—
Skin. 
And hair. 
And arms reaching for him. 
And he swore he saw the features of a human face staring back at him, but before he could even try to force his eyes to focus, everything was going black and Oscar let it happen. 
The first that hit him was how fucking cold he was. 
The second was—
Well, the second hit him when his eyes blinked open, barely giving him a chance to acknowledge the people surrounding him before he coughed, emptying out the saltwater that was still stuck in his lungs. 
He could feel someone’s hand soothing his back, the action almost relieving if it weren’t for the fact Oscar swore he couldn’t stop shivering. 
“Let it all out, honey, atta boy,” a woman’s voice soothed as Oscar laid on his side, panting heavily and trying to wrap his head around everything before he felt a furry head pushing against his own. 
“Hey, Buddy,” Oscar breathed out, his lips twitching as he let the dog practically throw himself on top of Oscar even if it was still a little hard to breathe. 
“Smart dog you got there,” the woman spoke up again and Oscar finally turned his head to find a kind-looking woman smiling down at him. It took a few seconds before he realised she was wearing the paramedic uniform. “He managed to drag a couple out of their car to come help you. They are the ones who called us.”
Oscar blinked. “You swam out?” 
The woman frowned a little. “Of course not, honey. The waves seemed to have washed you in. You were lying out on the beach when we got called out.” 
“I—” Oscar blinked again, his confusion growing as he stared out at the ocean for a few moments. “Right. Of course.” 
“Do you remember what happened?” The kind paramedic asked.
“A little,” Oscar admitted. “I was surfing and the wave took me under. The current started dragging me further out. But then I saw—” Before he paused. Images of orange scales and a human face flashed in his mind but there was a voice in the back of his head that told him to stop, to keep that to himself.
“Saw what?” The paramedic prompted. 
“I don’t know,” Oscar eventually said as he shrugged. “I think I blacked out after that.” 
“I see,” the woman nodded, though he couldn’t read whether she believed him or not. “Think you can stand up? We just wanna do some standard tests, make sure you are alright. Then maybe someone you know can come pick you up.” 
“No need, my house is just there,” Oscar said as he nodded towards the cabin in the distance. “I feel fine, I promise—” 
“Procedure,” the woman said with a sheepish smile. “C’mon, it won’t take long. Promise.” 
And true to her word, it hadn’t taken long. 
Beyond some tests to prove that he knew his name, had basic motor functions and wasn’t concussed, he was allowed to head back home with Buddy by his side and a blanket wrapped around his body to try and maintain what little heat he had left.
His body was running mostly on muscle memory as he shuffled into the house, pulling the blanket off (against better judgement) and starting to unzip his wetsuit so he could peel it off his body like a second skin. 
He was smiling down at Buddy, who had refused to leave his side, when he felt a sharp prick against his finger. He winced, lifting his thumb to his mouth without second thought before glancing down to see what had nicked him. 
His eyes widened comically large when he saw an orange scale stuck to the side of his leg, sparkling and glistening the same way he swore it had under the water. The attempt of removing the wet suit was quickly abandoned as he glanced around the room, swearing under his breath before shuffling towards the kitchen. 
Buddy followed, whining and huffing as Oscar slammed cupboards doors open and shut before finding a small container. He leaned down, grabbing the scale as gently as he could before transferring it to the container. 
“M’telling you, Bud, that thing out there saved my life,” he spoke, his voice still a little raspy and raw. “I don’t know what it is but it wasn’t a normal fish. And I’m gonna figure out what the hell it is.” 
With all due respect, Buddy looked at his owner like he was insane but Oscar didn’t seem to notice. 
“I need you to look at something for me.” 
Logan let out a high-pitched scream, his body reacting quicker than he could keep up with and causing him to fall out of his seat before he noticed Oscar standing there, a frown on his lips. The blond let out a curse, his hand pressed against his chest as he let out a deep sigh of relief. 
“Fucking hell, dude, don’t sneak up on a guy like that!” Logan grumbled before pausing, scrambling to stand up and really focus on Oscar this time. “What the fuck are you doing here? You should be resting!” 
Oscar blinked. “I’m fine.” 
“You almost drowned,” Logan said slowly, like he was explaining the point to a child.
“Yes, Logan, I’m aware,” Oscar deadpanned. “I was there, believe it or not.”
“I—” Logan let out a deep breath. “You’re insane. Like actually insane. I think you lost too many brain cells because you shouldn’t be out of bed, let alone at work—”
“I’m not here to work,” Oscar corrected before flashing his friend a grin. “I came here because I need your weird fish encyclopaedic knowledge.” 
Logan stared at him. “Be honest with me, did your board hit your head?” 
“Shut up,” Oscar rolled his eyes before gesturing to the jar he slammed on the table before Logan fell off his seat. “Look.” 
Logan frowned a little, picking up the jar and peeking inside. “I know you work with dolphins but I’d at least hope you know that’s a fish scale.”
Oscar shot him a look. “I know it’s a fish scale but I need to know which fish it belongs to.”
Logan blinked. “You think I’d be able to take one look at this random scale and tell you which fish it belonged to?” 
“I mean,” Oscar shrugged. “Yeah. Kinda.” 
“You’ve been hanging around the dolphins far too much,” Logan murmured. 
“Listen, whichever fish that scale belongs to saved my life,” Oscar started. 
Logan stared at him like he had grown a second head. “A fish saved you from drowning?” 
“Yes.” 
“And you are sure you didn’t hit your head?” 
“Oh my god,” Oscar huffed. “Look, I know what I saw. It had a huge orange tail but it also had…like…skin and hair.” 
“Very commonly found in marine animals,” Logan deadpanned. 
“I’m serious,” Oscar said, his lips turned downwards. “And think, if it is a new kind of fish and you help me discover it—” 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Logan muttered, waving him off. “For the record, I still think you’re going insane but I’m your friend so I’ll help you out.” 
Oscar grinned. “I knew you’d help.” 
“You owe me lunch though,” Logan added. “I dropped my burrito when you scared me.” 
Oscar rolled his eyes. “Fine, deal.” 
THE INVESTIGATION
Despite his concern, Oscar managed to convince Sebastian to let him come back to work the next day (after saying he would be bored out of his mind at home) with the condition that Buddy be allowed to join him at work considering the dog had downright refused to leave his side since the accident. 
George and Alex had been awkward at the front. They had been less than subtle at their surprise that he had come into work so soon, and in turn, had been dreadfully unprepared in the etiquette of how to talk to your coworker friend who had almost drowned and died less than twenty-four hours earlier. 
Lando had been no better, downright asking him if he met God in the few minutes he lacked oxygen under water before being washed back out to shore. He hadn’t understood why Oscar—and even Buddy—had stared at him blankly.
Charles had been a little more sympathetic, though oddly protective of the boy. He had been a little fussy at Oscar coming in so early, insisting that he would make sure the boy had proper breaks and meals, even if he had to talk to Sebastian himself. Max had rolled his eyes at the other boy’s antics but clapped Oscar on the back and said he was happy he was alive. 
Even Logan had been cautious around the boy. Despite his agreement to help search for the fish that saved him, he still constantly looked at Oscar like he had downright lost his mind. And maybe he had. 
The only person who seemed to be acting remotely normal towards him was you, or at least it felt that way. 
“You know, Rufus really missed you yesterday.” 
Oscar raised his brows as he walked down the pier towards where you stood, two buckets of fish in each hand. “I think we must be talking about different Rufuses.” 
You rolled your eyes, though it seemed quite fond as you patted the spot next to you as you sat on the edge of the dock. “He likes you. He just also likes teasing you.” 
“That’s easy for you to say, he is a little prince around you,” Oscar commented, smiling softly when Buddy rushed towards your side, nuzzling you fondly. 
“There’s my favourite dog,” you cooed, taking Buddy’s face in your hands and pressing a smacking kiss on the top of his head. “Such a handsome boy.” 
Oscar chose to ignore the fact he was feeling oddly jealous of his dog of all people. 
“You’re just a dolphin whisperer,” Oscar said eventually, looking out at the two rescue dolphins that were currently chasing each other with a red ball between them. “I don’t get how you do it.” 
You shrugged, but your smile was mischievous. “If I told you, I would have to kill you.” 
Oscar snorted in response. It would have been embarrassing if it didn’t make your smile widen. 
A few moments of comfortable silence passed between the two of you with Oscar watching the dolphins and your attention on the needy dog now half-sprawled across your lap. You waited a few moments before you found the confidence to speak up again.
“How are you feeling?” You asked, your fingers tangled in Buddy’s fur as the dog sighed happily. “I mean, obviously you don’t have to answer that but if you want to talk about it—”
“I’m okay,” he answered with a kind smile. “It was…weird.”
You snorted before you could stop yourself. “Weird is an understatement.” 
But Oscar just shrugged his shoulders. “I was lucky, that’s what I’m choosing to focus on.” 
You nodded but you didn’t say anything in response. You didn’t get the chance as Logan came barrelling down the dock, a huge grin spread across his face and a bunch of scuba equipment in his arms.
“Dude, you won’t believe what Seb let me borrow!” 
Oscar’s eyes widened as he quickly scrambled up, shooting Logan a look that he didn’t seem to understand. 
“Don’t worry,” Logan rolled his eyes. “I didn’t tell him about your mission to find—” 
But Oscar reached over to smack his hand over Logan’s mouth before the boy could continue, laughing awkwardly as he looked over his shoulder at you. “He doesn't know what he’s talking about!”
You glanced between the boys, eyeing the scuba equipment curiously. “Hiding some top secret mission from me?” 
“No, of course not!” Oscar quickly blurted out. “It’s just…something stupid.” 
You raised your brows. “And requires state of the art diving equipment?” 
Oscar just laughed nervously.
Logan finally managed to push Oscar’s hand away, something mischievous and cunning shining in his eyes as he glanced at Oscar before looking at you. “You know, we have spare equipment. You could totally join us tomorrow—”
But before Oscar could intervene, you were already responding. 
“Oh no, I can't swim.” 
Logan blinked. “What?” 
“I, uh, mean,” you laughed, awkward and stilted as you quickly stood up, almost tripping on Buddy as you did so. “I swim. I can swim. Just not well.” 
Logan nodded slowly. “Well, Oscar could always teach you—” 
“No, no, don’t let me hold you back,” you insisted before clearing your throat. “God, would you look at that! I should go get some more fish. Bye, guys!” 
Neither boy got a chance to say much before you were running down the dock, heading towards the main building. Logan watched you for a moment before looking down at the two full buckets of fish by his feet. 
“Well, that wasn’t weird at all,” he deadpanned.
Oscar rolled his eyes. “You’re reading too much into it.” 
Logan gave him a weird look. “Dude, she’s literally lying. It’s a part of the entry requirements to be able to swim and be fully lifeguard trained.” 
“Well, maybe you made her uncomfortable and she felt the need to lie,” Oscar retorted.
Logan rolled his eyes. “A man in love is a blind man.” 
Oscar shook his head. “Pipe down, Shakespeare, and show me what Seb gave you.” 
As it would turn out, aimlessly diving around the area Oscar almost drowned was a useless and fruitless endeavour. 
Who would have thought?
Logan, clearly, considering the boy had been insisting as much since the two of them waddled back into Oscar’s cabin, their wetsuits drying out on the balcony and the heavy weight of exhaustion on their shoulders after the hours of searching was something that was not there. 
“Maybe it needs a purpose to show itself,” Logan suggested as he slumped down on the couch, happily letting Buddy jump up and join him. “Maybe you need to almost die again.” 
Oscar shot him a look.
“Right. Too soon. Sorry.” 
“No, I—” Oscar paused, shaking his head and letting it drop. He was too tired to deal with it anyways. “That is not a theory we are going to test.” 
“Whatever you say, man,” Logan shrugged, settled against the soft throw pillows Oscar’s mother had insisted he needed to buy to make his place seem a bit homier. “What’s your plan anyways?” 
Oscar frowned a little in confusion. “For what?” 
“When you find this fish,” Logan stated. “Like, what are you gonna do? Say thank you and move on with your life?” 
“Well, no, I—” he paused for a moment. “I hadn’t really thought about it. It’s a weird fish.” 
“And diving the depths of the ocean will get us nowhere except having a very boring hobby for the next fifty years,” Logan deadpanned. “Describe the fish again. Maybe we can note down some main features and do some research. There’s probably something on the internet.” 
“I don’t know,” Oscar shrugged, turning his attention back to whatever scraps were left in his fridge that he could somehow make a meal from. “I have never seen a fish like this.” 
“Because you know every fish ever to exist.” 
Oscar rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” 
“C’mon, just try,” Logan whined as he reached for his phone, muttering out a small ‘sorry’ when he had to manoeuvre Buddy on his lap before he pulled up a new tab. “We have orange scales, big, skin and hair-like features—”
“It was skin and hair.” 
“Yeah, sure,” Logan murmured as he continued to add a few more details Oscar had told him before hitting search. He waited a few moments, looking through the top searches before he let out a loud snort. “Okay, maybe you were right. Maybe googling is useless.” 
“Why? What does it say?” Oscar asked, reaching for the jar of pasta sauce that seemed to be shoved towards the back of his cupboard. For the sake of his rumbling stomach, he decided not to linger on how long it had been back there for.
“It says you’re looking for a mermaid,” Logan snorted, his amusement clear in his voice. “I mean, come on! Like any sucker would believe that.” 
However, when he turned his head to see if Oscar was laughing along with him, he found the boy staring back with a contemplative look on his face.
“No,” Logan groaned, leaning his head back against the pillows. “No, Oscar, we are not—” 
“It might be,” Oscar argued back.
“You need to get your head checked,” Logan grumbled.
“Just find as many reliable sources on mermaids as you can whilst I make lunch,” Oscar retorted, waving him off as the American let out a squawk of protest.
“He’s gone insane. My best friend has gone insane.” 
“I can hear you.”
“Good!” 
“I can’t believe these words are about to leave my mouth—” 
“You don’t need to say that everytime.” 
“But how do we know we are dealing with a mermaid and not a siren?” Logan questioned as the two of them sat on the dock by the dolphins, sandwiches in hand as they enjoyed their lunch break whilst entertaining Rufus and Gizmo with the new toys Sebastian had ordered.
“Because it would have killed me if it was a siren,” Oscar responded matter-of-factly. “If it was a siren, they probably would have eaten me.” 
“Should we really be saying it? Wouldn’t it be a she?” Logan asked, but before he could even wait for an answer, he was continuing. “And how do we know she speaks English? Like, she could speak some ocean language. Maybe you need to start speaking fish so you can thank her if we find her.”
Oscar blinked. “Speaking fish? Really?” 
“What? I am just making assumptions here,” Logan murmured. “It’s not like there’s a lot of accurate and reliable sources for mermaid logistics and habits.”
“Well, she is also probably a human living in this town,” Oscar pointed out. “So, I think my chances of her speaking English or any other human language is high.”
“So you think,” Logan muttered under his breath.
Oscar glanced down when he felt a nudge against his foot, smiling when he felt Rufus nudge him. “I wonder if she can speak to fish.” 
“Hm?”
“Like, imagine how cool it would be to be able to talk to different sea animals,” Oscar commented as he leaned down, his smile widening when the dolphin lifted his head up to meet Oscar’s hand.
“Well, your girlfriend is the dolphin whisperer,” Logan teased, nudging the other boy’s side with his elbow. “She could maybe teach you something, help you practise your fish language before you find your knight in scaly armour.” 
Oscar could feel his cheeks burn. “She’s not my girlfriend.” 
“But you wish she was,” Logan sang. 
“Plus, some people just have a special knack with animals,” Oscar shrugged, watching as Rufus continued to nudge his foot to gain his attention. “She’s one of them.” 
“A shame she can’t swim with them,” Logan muttered.
“Oh my god, get off her back with that,” Oscar groaned. 
“I am just saying—” 
“Stop saying it.” 
“—it’s a little weird that—”
“You’re a little weird.”
“—she was so dodgy about her swimming and then ran off—”
“You are reading far too much into it.” 
“—like she’s hiding something!” Logan exclaimed. 
“Who’s hiding something?” 
Both boys let out a scream, whipping their heads to find you standing a few feet away, looking far too amused at the expressions on their faces. You raised your brows, glancing between them and watching the way they both floundered for a response. 
“Were you talking about little old me?” You asked, a dramatic gasp following as you placed your hand over your heart. 
Oscar’s eyes widened. “No, we just—”
But before he could even come up with a half-assed, lame excuse to try and sell, a large splash of water hit the three of you. The water was cold and a shock to the system and the almost mocking laugh of Rufus as he swam away was the cherry on top. 
Oscar glanced down at the soggy sandwich in his hand before shifting his attention to you, noticing the way your eyes widened in panic. 
“Hey, you look a bit pale,” Oscar started but you were already starting to walk backwards. 
“I have to go!” You blurted out before turning on your heel and sprinting down the pier. 
“Wait!” Oscar frowned, ignoring the odd look Logan was giving him as he began to chase after you, watching you make a beeline towards the main building. 
He could feel his legs burning as he tried to catch up, as he chased you through the windy footpaths of the park, only to find himself at the main building with the door still locked and you nowhere in sight. 
He called out your name, his teeth starting to chatter a little as the water seeped into his clothes and hung heavy on his frame. 
But you were nowhere to be seen. 
“Do you think there is a way to find the human version of the mermaid?” 
Oscar barely lifted his head up from his phone, glancing down at the series of unread messages he had sent to you over the course of the last few days. Sebastian had said you called in sick, saying you needed a few days to recover from your cold without giving it to anyone. 
But Oscar wasn’t buying it.
“Because maybe we just need to look for the very obvious clues.”
Of course, there was the potential option that you really were sick. It was quite chilly the other day and Oscar’s mother always did say that wet clothes and chilly weather were never a good combination. It was why his first message was staged as a simple wish for you to get better, seeing if you would reply to him. 
You didn’t. 
“You know, like people well affiliated with fish. And maybe avoid water. And maybe have a suspicious background we don’t know about.” 
The following messages had been sent by accident. His thumb had been hovering over the second message when Buddy bumped into him and made his thumb hit the screen. And then, with the embarrassment already settled, he found himself sending a few more to follow up. 
But still, he hadn’t heard a single word from you. Nobody had. 
“It does make me wonder if your kids would come out as mermaids or fully human though.” 
Oscar blinked, head snapping up to stare at Logan with a bewildered look. “What?!” 
Logan huffed. “Have you not been listening to a word I’ve been saying?” 
“No, clearly not. Though, if you’re talking about how mermaids reproduce then I’m glad I zoned out,” Oscar deadpanned. 
“You should have a lot more interest considering your girlfriend is a mermaid,” Logan retorted. 
Oscar blinked. “Come again?” 
“Don’t tell me you don’t see the signs?” Logan prompted. 
Oscar shot him a look. “I don’t see the signs.” 
“God, love really is blind,” Logan sighed, shaking his head. “The signs are right in front of you, dude. She’s the one you’re looking for. Maybe. Potentially. It’s mostly a hunch.” 
“You’re ridiculous,” Oscar scoffed. “I know her. I know her better than you. And I know that isn’t her.” 
“In denial your girlfriend is a fish?” Logan teased, nudging his foot against Oscar’s shin only to let out a wince when Oscar kicked him back. 
Oscar rolled his eyes. “I’m not in denial about anything!” 
“Who’s not in denial about anything?” 
Oscar’s head snapped around, his cheeks burning when he found Charles and Max standing at the door of the staff room, looking between the two younger boys with a questioning but amused look in their eyes. 
“Nothing!” Oscar flashed them a strained smile. “Truly nothing. We are talking about absolutely nothing.” 
Max raised his brows. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.” 
“Well—“ Oscar laughed, another half-assed lie ready to leave his lips but Logan bet him to it. 
“Oscar is just in denial about his lady fish!” Logan blinked, realising what he’s been saying. “I mean his friend who’s a fish! I mean, his lady friend who likes fish. She isn’t a fish. No one is a fish but fish!” 
Oscar shot him a look. 
“You know?” Logan laughed awkwardly. 
To his credit, Max looked positively delighted like their misery was great for his amusement. But Charles looked downright concerned, looking at Oscar with a solemn look as he walked around the table. He placed a hand on Oscar’s shoulder and gave him a small squeeze. 
“We will fight your fish fetish together,” he said in a completely serious voice. 
Logan choked. 
Oscar blanched. “I do not have a fish fetish!” 
“It’s fine, accepting it is the first step and we will get there together, yes?” Charles said with a kind smile. “You’re not alone, Oscar.” 
“I’m not there at all,” he retorted. 
“You have a support system here, Oscar,” Charles said. “We are your family too.”
Oscar groaned, his head slumping down to rest on the table. “Logan, I’m not going to kill you.”
“Logan is your friend and he just wants to help,” Charles continued, patting the boy on the back like he was trying to comfort him. 
It was safe to say he wasn’t focused on your lack of response to his messages after that. 
THE REVEAL 
It was actually totally by chance that it happened that morning.  
Just before his shift ended the day before, Sebastian had managed to catch him on his way out, ranting away about storms and stocking up and eventually ending his ramble by asking Oscar to come in early for his shift tomorrow to help deal with the morning feeds in case they have to shut down the park for the storm. 
He had agreed, assuring the older man he would be at the park before the sun had risen before he left. 
The next morning, he had been cursing his past self as he dragged himself out of bed and forwent his usual morning swim for a quick walk with Buddy before cycling towards the park. 
He was barely awake as he sauntered towards the staff room, putting his things away and just barely noticing your locker was already full before he made his way out towards the dolphins where he assumed you would’ve started. 
After all, Sebastian never said you two couldn’t work through the breakfast shift together. 
Oscar still felt a bit half asleep and bleary when he saw you at the bottom of the pier, talking away to Rufus and Gizmo. It made him smile, listening to whatever you were saying without even really processing it. 
In fact, it was because he was so entranced that he almost missed it at first. 
“Okay, one more but then you’ve gotta have your breakfast,” you sighed, shaking your head fondly at the two dolphins before lifting your hand. 
It took a second for Oscar to even realise there was a massive ball of water floating in front of you. It took a few more seconds to realise it turned to ice seconds later. And he was already rubbing his eyes to try and wake himself by the time you threw it into the water, letting the dolphins chase after it. 
He stood at the bottom of the dock, mouth agape and heart thundering in his chest that he missed whatever you said to the squeaking dolphin before you dove head first into the water. 
His body kicked into action by that point as he sprinted down the pier, yelling out your name and already trying to shrug off his coat so he could dive in after you, only to pause when he saw something in the water. 
Not something—you. 
It felt like deja vu as he stared at you under the water’s surface, stuck between confusion and awe. It was still dark but somehow the scales of your tail still glimmered in the water, dancing and shining and downright mesmerising. It was orange and gold and yellow and just breath-taking to see when he wasn’t losing oxygen. He watched your hair flow behind you as you swam effortlessly beside the dolphins like you belonged, like you were meant to be in the water. 
It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. 
He had barely picked his jaw up off the floor by the time you rose to the surface again, your eyes widening as you saw him kneeling on the pier staring out at you. 
You gulped a little. “Oscar, it’s not what it seems—”
“It’s you,” he interrupted, though his voice was soft and awestruck. “You’re the mermaid. You’re the one that saved me.” 
“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t need saving if you hadn’t been an idiot surfing when it wasn’t safe,” you retorted, almost defensive as you squirmed under his watchful gaze. 
“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are so—”
“Scary?” You supplied. 
“Beautiful,” Oscar corrected with a small frown. 
“Oh,” was all you managed to say. 
His eyes drifted down once again, his eyes lingering on your tail and the way it swayed gently to keep you above the surface. It was long, much longer than he realised the last time he saw you. But it was there and it was real and it belonged to you and— 
It was overwhelming. 
And it was also deeply annoying that Logan was right. 
Oscar opened his mouth. “I have so many questions I want—”
“I’m sure you do and I will answer them but,” you flashed him a sheepish smile, though the defensive tone in your voice was still there. “Not now. Later. Promise.”
Oscar nodded, a little dumbly. “Come back to mine after work?” 
You nodded back, your smile a little strained. “Yeah, of course.” 
“Would you like some tea?” 
The wind howling and the rain pattering against the window from the storm managed to break some of the awkward silence as you sat in Oscar’s living room, picking at the skin around your nails and avoiding eye contact with him completely. 
“Uh yeah,” you nodded. “Tea would be nice.” 
Oscar nodded before shuffling towards the kitchen, grabbing two mugs and putting the kettle on before he glanced over his shoulder to peek out at you. 
He smiled a bit as he watched Buddy trot towards you, letting out a whine and knocking your hands away from each other and instead placed his head on your lap until you started scratching behind his ears instead. 
“He’s a bit of a clinger,” Oscar warned as he wandered back into the room, two cups of tea in his hands as he placed both on the coffee table before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. “If you give him too much attention, he will never let you leave.”
Your lips twitched upwards. “That doesn’t sound too bad.” 
“You’ll think twice when he starts chewing your shoes because he wants to go out in the morning,” Oscar retorted. 
You let out a soft laugh in response. 
He watched you for a few moments as you cooed at the dog in front of you. You had told him you’d make your way to his house, considering Oscar’s shift ended half an hour earlier than yours and he had only driven a bicycle into work. 
He had tried to be really casual and nonchalant about the whole thing, pretending like his mind wasn’t spinning all day since he saw you in the water. It got a lot worse when he got home, practically pacing the cabin and wearing a hole into the carpet as he kept glancing at the clock—so often that even Buddy started whining about it. 
And then, just minutes before the rain started, you were knocking on his door and walking into his house and—
He felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
He wondered if he was meant to be the one to drop it. 
“So, a mermaid, huh?” 
And maybe it was the shitty icebreaker or maybe it was the nerves catching up with you, but you couldn’t help but snort. 
“Really?” You teased, finally looking at him with something that felt oddly close to fondness. “That’s what you start with?” 
“I panicked,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. “And…I don’t know how much you want to share.” 
“Most people would be demanding answers,” you told him, your voice a little defensive like you expected him to be the same. 
“I’m not most people,” he responded before pausing. “Wait, other people know?” 
“Well, no,” you confessed before shrugging. “I just assume people would demand answers. I sure as hell did.” 
Oscar’s brows furrowed together. “You haven’t been a mermaid your whole life?”
“Since I was sixteen,” you told him, shaking your head. “It’s a long story. Full moons, sea caves and a very confusing attempt at a shower the next day.” 
His lips twitched upwards. “And you’ve hidden it this long?” 
You nodded. 
“That must be exhausting,” he murmured, his chest tightening a little at the idea that you had been carrying this secret alone for years. 
“I’m used to it by now,” you answered honestly with a shrug. “Plus, technically speaking, other people don’t know but other creatures do.” 
Oscar blinked. “You can actually speak fish?” 
You shot him an odd look. “Well, it’s not really a universal language amongst all fish but I can communicate with them.” 
“And control water,” Oscar blurted out, remembering what he saw that morning. 
You smiled softly. “Being a mermaid has its perks.” 
“The park is a risky place to work,” Oscar commented with a frown. “Aren’t you scared of constantly being exposed?”
“Like the other day?” You huffed, shaking your head. “I’m usually quite safe and I’m careful. Rufus was just being a dick.” 
“He…knows?” Oscar said slowly, like his brain was still catching up with the fact you could speak to marine animals. 
“He’s very demanding during our morning swims,” you admitted with a soft smile. “He also has very strong opinions and can be quite pushy with them.” 
Oscar raised his brows. “And what was he getting pushy with this time?” 
You fell silent, your attention quickly falling back to Buddy. 
He frowned a little. “I won’t judge, whatever it is. Unless it’s like a mermaid-slash-fish insider thing I wouldn’t understand, then I totally get it but—”
“It’s whatever,” you quickly interrupted, your smile seeming a little more put on and strained. “It’s not true, anyways.” 
Oscar’s frown deepened but he didn’t say anything as he nodded. It was only in the moments of silence that he realised how heavy the rain had gotten, with the drops sounding like harsh patters against his window. 
“Fuck,” you murmured with a frown. “It’s going to be impossible to get home.” 
“Home as in…a house or a sea cave or…?” Oscar started to trail off, having the decency to look a little embarrassed when you shot him a look. 
“I have a place on land,” you confirmed, though he could hear the amusement in your voice. “Although considering the fact I have seconds before I change, I won’t even be able to make it out your front door before I grow a tail.” 
“You can stay here,” he blurted out before he could second guess himself. “If you want to. I don’t mind. Neither does Buddy.” 
As if on cue, Buddy let out a soft bark of agreement as he nuzzled his head against your lap. 
You looked at him. “Are you sure? Because I—”
“I’m sure,” Oscar confirmed with a nod. “You can take the bed, I don’t mind taking the couch. Although, you may have to deal with Buddy trying to cuddle with you.” 
Your eyes widened slightly. “Oscar, I can’t kick you off your own bed.” 
“I don’t mind,” he repeated with a shrug. “Plus, the couch can be tricky to get comfy on if you don’t know the exact way to sleep and I’m used to—”
“I’m not letting you sleep on this couch,” you said, pausing for a moment before sheepishly smiling. “No offence.” 
His lips twitched. “None taken.” 
“We can—” You paused again before straightening up in your seat. “We can share the bed. It’s just one night, no?” 
Oscar blinked. 
“Friends can share beds, right?” You added, trying to keep your voice steady. 
“Uh, yeah,” Oscar blurted out. “Yeah, totally. Absolutely. We can so do that. No problem at all.” 
He was fucked. 
All things considered, Oscar thought he was doing pretty well until the two of you actually had to fall asleep. 
He gave you some spare clothes to borrow and took the gentleman’s route of letting you use the bathroom first. He let you choose your side of the bed and borrowed some of the throw pillows from the living room to act as a barrier to make you a little more comfortable. He had even made sure Buddy was squished on his side of the bed so he wouldn’t disturb you. 
But then, the silence settled between you both after he had turned the lights off and climbed into bed and not even the pattering rain could ease the suffocating tension. 
“Logan knows,” Oscar blurted out. 
You blinked, turning your head as though you could see him in the dark. “What?!” There was a pause. “You told him?” 
“What? No!” Oscar quickly corrected. “No, of course not. He guessed it. Kinda. He was, like, forty-seven percent sure you were a mermaid.” 
You frowned. “And the other fifty-three percent?” 
“That,” Oscar snorted a little. “Was him being confident that mermaids didn’t exist at all and I hit my head during the accident.”
“You almost did,” you confessed. 
Oscar swallowed before turning his head to look in the direction of where you were lying. “Thank you,” he whispered in a softer voice. “For saving me. You really did save my life and you didn’t have to.” 
There was a small pause before Oscar felt you reach over the wall of pillows to take his hand. “I would’ve never left you hanging, Osc. You’re my friend.” 
He squeezed your hand a little. “Right, friend. Of course.”
Another moment of silence passed between you two. 
“You know I would never tell anyone your secret, right?” Oscar whispered, something about the moment feeling soft and quiet. “Even with Logan. I’ll throw him off your tail, stop him from bothering you.” 
A laugh slipped out. “Off my tail?” 
His cheeks burned but he smiled. “The pun was unintentional.” 
You hummed before responding. “You’d actually do that?” 
“Of course,” Oscar confirmed, genuine and sincere. “You’re my friend.” 
“Right, friend. Of course,” you repeated when nothing else came to mind. 
And once again, the silence settled between you but it was thick and suffocating and desperate to be cut and—
“Rufus wanted me to be honest with you,” you blurted out, squeezing his hand a little like it was the small sign of comfort you needed. “That’s what he’s been bugging me about. Gizmo too, actually.” 
Oscar frowned a little. “About telling me you’re a mermaid?” 
“No. Yes. Kinda.” You took a deep breath. “They wanted me to be honest with how I feel.” 
“I didn’t realise they were licensed therapists,” Oscar commented.
Your lips twitched. “They are delusional like that.” 
“Whatever you wanna say, m’not gonna judge you,” Oscar murmured, squeezing your hand to solidify his point. 
“I like you,” you whispered. 
“Yeah, I like you too,” Oscar replied casually. “And nothing you say can freak me out. I promise.” 
“No, Oscar, I like you. Like like.” 
“Oh.” 
“Fuck, sorry,” you swore under your breath as you moved to pull your hand away. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position—”
“No, I just—” Oscar let out a huff. “Wait a second.” 
Your brows furrowed in confusion as you listened to him shuffling around on his side of the bed. It took a few seconds before you realised what he was doing, throwing the pillow wall on the floor and reaching for the lamp on his bedside table before he turned to you. 
“Better,” he murmured before reaching for your hand again. “You mean it? You like me?” 
“Are you really gonna make me say it again?” You winced a little. 
“I mean, it would help me redeem my response beyond a pathetic ‘oh’,” Oscar confessed, his cheeks flushing pink as he bit back a smile. 
You watched his expression closely. “And what would your response be this time?”
He swallowed harshly, gaining what little confidence he had left in himself before he chickened out and second-guessed himself. “I would say I have been pretty much in love with you since the day you accidentally trapped me in that huge fishing net and had to cut me out with a shitty pair of craft scissors.” 
Your brows furrowed together. “But that was our second day working together—oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” Oscar repeated with a grin. His eyes dropped to your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes, squeezing your hand as we spoke. “I like like you too.” 
“Even if I’m half fish?” You asked, watching as Oscar’s expression grew adoring. 
“Even if you told me I had to live on a dinghy for the rest of my life to be with you,” Oscar confessed. 
“That,” you paused as you laughed a little. “That might be one of the weirdest but most romantic things someone has ever said to me.” 
“You should see me flirting after a few drinks,” he deadpanned, not bothering to hide his smile as you rolled your eyes fondly.
“Just kiss me, Piastri,” you murmured.
“Yeah, I can do that,” he nodded before slipping his free hand to cup your face before leaning down to kiss you.
You let out a happy sigh, pulling your hand free so you could wrap both arms around his neck and tug him closer. Oscar rolled closer, keeping his weight off you as he deepened the kiss and smiled a little at the satisfied noise you let out. 
It was soft and sweet and adoring and made your whole body feel like it was on cloud nine by the time he pulled away, strands of hair falling in his eyes and a gentle expression pained across his face.
“We should probably sleep,” Oscar murmured.
“Yeah, we probably should,” you nodded in agreement.
“Glad you agree,” he hummed.
“Totally,” you responded.
Neither one of you could bite back your smiles as you leaned in for another kiss. 
THE AFTERMATH 
“This is cheating.” 
“How is it cheating?” 
“Okay, maybe it isn’t cheating but it is unfair.” 
You snorted, shaking your head in amusement as you lightly flicked your tail to splash the boy sitting on his surfboard. He let out a small noise of annoyance but he was still smiling, looking down at the seashell in his hand with utter love and adoration. 
“My gift seems lame in comparison now,” Oscar grumbled as his thumb smoothed over the ridges of the shell. 
“That’s a bit dramatic,” you retorted, leaning on your crossed arms as you leaned on the edge of his board. 
“Yeah, well, I bought your gift and you literally dived to the depths of the ocean for mine,” he replied but he still held the shell with a great sense of protectiveness, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Thank you, babe. I love it.” 
“Thought it would look cute for your collection,” you grinned back, sighing happily at the ease and relaxation written across his face. It had been an intense few weeks at work and this was the first mutual day off the two of you had. You almost forgot how much you loved seeing Oscar so laid back and stress-free. 
“It’ll be the best one in my collection,” he grinned, staring down at the shell for another few seconds before reaching for the small zipped pocket in his wetsuit. “Okay, close your eyes.” 
You rolled your eyes but did as you were told, holding your hands out as you listened to the sound of the zip. You waited a few moments before you felt cold metal hit your palm and tried to bite back your smile.
“I know the mermaid magic has a whole mind of its own but I thought maybe this would be one thing you can wear both on land and in the water,” Oscar confessed, and you could hear the hint of nerves in his voice. “Something from me, so I can be there with you when you are deep in the ocean getting me cool shells.” 
You snorted a little, but the amusement was quickly replaced by awe and surprise once you opened your eyes and spotted the silver locket in your palm. Your thumb traced over the necklace, smiling a little when you noticed the gem was the same shade of blue as his favourite board—the same one he was currently sitting on—and Buddy’s eyes.
“Oscar,” you whispered when no other words seemed to leave your lips. 
“Open it,” he prompted. 
You gently clicked the locket open, your smile widening when you noticed a picture tucked into the frame. Staring back at you was one of your favourite photos of you, Oscar and Buddy on the beach that a passing local had taken for the three of you when you were out one morning for Buddy’s morning walk. It had been one of your and Oscar’s favourite photos, considering it was currently framed and sitting on his bedside table and another print tucked into his locker at work. 
You looked up at him, your chest feeling so warm and tight and full with all the love you had for the boy. “It’s beautiful.” 
“Perfect for you then,” he murmured with a grin before nodding his head. “Turn around, let me put it on for you.” 
You listened easily, moving your hair over your shoulder as the boy reached around to place the necklace on before clasping it together. Your fingertips brushed over the locket as you glanced down at it before turning to look at him. He was already staring back at you, his expression soft and fond and so full of love that it almost made you wonder how it took you so long to confess your feelings when he had been staring at you like that long before you started dating.
“I love you,” you murmured, your heart warming at the sight of his cheeks blushing at the same three words you have said countless times to the boy.
“I love you too,” he replied easily before leaning down to kiss you. “Happy one year anniversary, baby.” 
“Happy one year, Osc.” 
,
712 notes · View notes
art · 11 months
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Creator Spotlight: @jdebbiel
Deb JJ Lee is a non-binary Korean artist based in Brooklyn, NY. They have appeared in the New Yorker, New York Times, NPR, Google, Radiolab, and more. Their award-winning graphic memoir, IN LIMBO, about mental illness and difficult relationships with trauma, released in March 2023 from First Second.
Below is our interview with Deb!
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
That implies I am over my art block, but I’m still in it! I think about Kiki’s Delivery Service a lot and how she had to stop doing a thing, and that you can’t really force it, and you have to let it come back to you. It’s a pretty humbling moment, realizing there is more to life than just drawing. I’ve been trying to consume other content like reading or watching movies—anything that is not drawing-related—and to trust that it will come back to me. I think not being afraid to do the small pieces before committing to the big pieces is helpful. Because big pieces are what I am known for, I dig myself into a deeper hole, thinking that each piece has to be bigger than the last one. So yeah! Relaxing and doing the small things before overcommitting to a big piece is the best way to go about it for me.
Which 3 famous artists (dead or alive) would you invite to your dinner party?
I feel like these are all artists that I have second-degree connections with! Jillian Tamaki, Victo Ngai, and Tillie Walden would be my picks!
What are your file name conventions?
…What file name conventions? I mean, I don’t have specific file name conventions, but I actually have a public Google Drive archive! But I usually put “djjl_whatever-the-title-is_final,” and I would always know it’s the final and legit version.
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
I did an illustration for the whiskey brand Johnnie Walker. It’s so wild because I only had four days to finish it, and it usually takes me a week and a half if I rush. And honestly, it’s probably one of my best pieces from this year, which is funny. It was for the Mid-Autumn festival, so I made it as Korean as possible.
How has technology changed the way you approach your work?
I only use my iPad to draw everything now, and if I want to pretend that I have a steady workstation, I’ll use my Cintiq. I still am not as comfortable on the Cintiq as I am on Procreate, but it’s still pretty solid and nice. That’s the good part about technology. The bad part about technology is how AI art has been messing things up for me. I’m currently in a lawsuit about AI art as a class rep. Some of my stuff got turned into AI art late last year, so I have to give a deposition at some point. 
What is a convention experience that has stuck with you?
Honestly, they’re all good! I feel like Lightbox Expo has been really nice because it’s truly been a convention for artists. I feel like that’s where most of my audience is, and they’re all around because their purpose is to be better at art. That’s where a lot of original artists do well because they’re getting art they’re inspired by, not so much fanart. I like the Lightbox Expo because it encompasses the pure love of art very well. 
Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?
Use a Y axis, not just your X axis! Take advantage of it! Branding is also something to think about. It is definitely something I’m getting better at. Having an assistant is also very important. I’ve also heard that 8.5x11 to 12x18 inches is usually a good size for prints, but I also provide postcard-sized prints because sometimes people don’t want to commit to a larger size. 
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
You know this is so funny. I’ve been following @alicexz for over a decade on Tumblr and other platforms. I’ve followed her work since high school, and we’ve only recently become peers. I found her, and we met for the first time in real life, and she recognized me. And then I found all my drawings from when I was in my Alice phase, back in high school, and I was like, “Yo, this is when I was trying to be you so badly!” and she was cracking up and was like “Wow, this is so good!” It was such a sweet moment. I wanted to take a picture of her holding my drawing up. It’s really nice because now we’re peers.
Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Deb! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jdebbiel.
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aurorawritestoescape · 3 months
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TABLE FOR THREE
Joel Miller x f!reader x Dave York || 3,2k
Summary: you’re having a great time on your date but a man from your past interrupts it and makes it…better?
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, mfm, not specified age gap, dom/sub dynamic, infidelity (reader’s, in the past), manhandling, daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, degradation, slut shaming, m!oral, cum eating, mutual masturbation, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, light spanking, voyeurism, exhibitionism (they don’t get caught),mention of violence, pet names (baby, kitten, babygirl, sweetheart). Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.
A/n: this is filthy, y’all. Big thank you to an insanely talented writer @bonezone44 for inspiring me with this post. Smooching and hugging @milla-frenchy for beta-ing and screaming about this story with me. Love you all, hope you’ll enjoy it!💖 dividers by @saradika-graphics
PT 2 WHO’S YOUR DADDY? || MASTERLIST
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Your boyfriend Dave and you are having dinner in your favorite restaurant. Your regular booth is tucked in a corner, hidden from the prying eye of the other guests. You two love coming here because you can enjoy each other without being seen, thanks to the tall backrests. Now you’re laughing, kissing and Dave’s hand is resting on your upper thigh, barely covered by your short skirt. His thumb is caressing your soft skin and your mind brings you back to the night before when he was railing you while you were sucking on the thick finger and moaning like a whore.
Suddenly a man plops on the seat in front of you with a smug smile.
Joel fucking Miller.
‘Shit, shit, shit,’ you repeat in your head as your heart freezes.
“Hello, sweetheart. Knew it was you. Saw you in the window passing by.”
He motions somewhere to the right of you and you inwardly curse his sharp eye.
“Want to introduce us, baby?” Dave asks with a cold tone in his voice and throws his arm around you in a possessive gesture.
You clear your throat and say as calmly as possible while panic twists your stomach.
“It’s Joel Miller, my— ehm, old friend.”
Joel chuckles, “Well, if old friends fuck like rabbits and live together for 3 years then I guess I’m that.”
He keeps laughing as you’re boring your eyes into him.
“Joel is my ex,” you admit, highlighting the last word with an expression of disgust on your face.
“Ex?” Dave repeats, narrowing his eyes and taking in the man sitting in front of him — older than him, much older than you, a broad torso under a worn out denim shirt, a big fist resting on the table and by the look of it, the man works with his hands. Joel seems to be calm and confident, but judging by the way you tensed, the break up wasn’t pleasant.
“Would never imagine you with a guy like that, sweetheart,” Joel says with a smug smile.
“And what guy am I?” Dave’s voice is coated with steel.
“Not like me, pal. I’m a simple working man, and this one always went for sweaty dirty men like me. You’re all suited up,” his piercing eyes slide to you and he asks, “Shootin’ out of your league, sweetie?”
“Fuck you,” you bite back and Joel smirks. You wanna slap his face so much but Dave takes your chin between his fingers, turns your head to him and looks into your eyes. His gaze under the furrowed brows scares and excites you.
“I’ll handle it.”
“Ok, Dave,” you mewl with a little nod and return your eyes to your troublesome ex.
“It’s her business who she dates. And mine. I guess your relationship ended badly, and I’m sorry, but shit happens, man. Move on.”
It’s so hot how calm he is and you feel your core burn with desire.
Dave pulls you closer to him with his arm still resting on your shoulder and rubs your collar bone with his thumb. Joel’s eyes follow his movements and he rasps,
“Don’t be sorry for me, pal. I’m fine now but ya gonna get burned if you don’t drop this slut.”
“You motherfucking piece—,” you sit up ready to start a fight but Dave’s hand, that a second ago was caressing your skin, flies to your throat and he pushes you back to the seat, not squeezing your neck but holding you seated by his side.
He shushes you and you can’t help but gush.
It’s a usual thing for him to be rough with you in bed, you love the way he manhandles you, breaks you every time you fuck, little by little, making you his. But he has never shown this side of him out of the bedroom. The idea that he’s so dominant with you around people sends electricity of arousal through your body.
With widened eyes you see Joel’s lips twist in a satisfied smile and anger burns your insides with a scolding ire. Only your boyfriend’s steady voice slightly calms you down.
“Joel, you seem like a reasonable man. What would you do if some asshole interrupted your date and started calling your girlfriend a slut. What I would probably do is break his jaw and then his legs.”
Not losing his smug smile, even after hearing your boyfriend’s threat, Joel raises his hands in front of his chest and explains,
“I don’t want any problems with you— it’s Dave, right? I’m doin’ you a favor. Givin’ you advice. Keep away from this minx. She’s good to look at and great to fuck but she’ll use you and then sleep with half of your crew.”
You curse and Dave puts his palm over your mouth. It’s big and warm and you feel your panties soak more.
“Crew?”
“I work in construction. I found out this bitch had slept with half of my team. Married guys, single. She was a hungry slut and I don’t think anything changed.”
He laughs and you try to take Dave’s hand off your mouth but he grabs your wrists with his strong fingers and keeps your hands on your lap.
“Sit still and let me listen, kitten. Or daddy will be angry.”
You swallow loudly, as your nostrils flare and pussy aches. Only your eyes can move now, darting between the two men.
“I like you, Dave, you have her under your thumb. I was too soft and kind with her. And women like her don’t appreciate kindness.”
Joel’s eyes shift between you and Dave as he continues, “Don't tell me you haven’t noticed. ‘s her nature. Her needy cunt always craves a fat cock. And oh boy, she always knows how to find it.”
You growl under Dave’s palm and he tightens his grip in warning.
“Shh,” he whispers in your ear and then turns to Joel with his eyes narrowed.
“I believe you.”
You hum in protest, wriggling in Dave’s steel embrace, and he takes his hand off your mouth.
“Dave, don’t listen to him, he’s just jealous.”
Joel chuckles, shaking his head.
“You can’t deny the truth, sweetheart. I caught you with a guy’s dick in your mouth, my friend’s dick. And then I beat the truths about your affairs out of the others.”
You glance at Dave with scared eyes but he isn’t looking at you. His pensive gaze is set on Joel.
Then he turns his face to you and blood freezes in your veins.
“I did notice how you looked at the waiter just now, kitten. And that bartender. I know you gave him your number.”
You shake your head, opening your mouth to protest, but he interrupts you.
“Joel isn’t lying. I can tell.”
“He is! I didn’t …”
“Enough!”
You immediately shut your mouth, as soon as Dave slightly raises his voice. He trained you well after all.
“Fuck, good job, man. Look at her. So obedient but still a little feisty.”
Dave smirks and you see pride in his eyes when he hears your ex’s words.
“And she knows how to take cock, huh?” Joel looks at you, adjusting a bulge in his jeans.
You’re glaring at him but your mind bursts with images from your past, him pounding into you, his huge cock stretching you so deliciously and then pumping you full of his thick cum. His skilful fingers could make you explode in minutes and you’d never forget the way he ate your pussy. Dave is perfect in bed but Joel was unforgettable.
“Look at ‘er, she’s probably creamin’ right now, the way she’s starin’ at me.”
Dave smirks darkly and looks you over.
“Let’s find out.”
With that he shifts in his seat, slightly turning his big body to you, and his hand on your thigh slides up and under the hem of your skirt.
“Dave”, you breathe in sharply, widened eyes looking at him.
“Shh, baby, I’m just gonna check.”
His hand pulls your skirt up and he sees your black lacy panties. Joel grunts and leans forward placing his big hairy forearms on the table so he could see what Dave is doing.
Your boyfriend’s thick fingers slip under your panties and you blurt out,
“I’m wet because of you, Dave.”
“Is that so, kitten?” Dave asks but doesn’t look at you. His dark gaze is set on your clothed cunt as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to his and Joel’s eyes.
“Fuck, Dave, you’re the man,” Joel praises your boyfriend and you see hunger in the older man’s eyes. You’re so turned on right now, you know you’re dripping.
Dave tsks when he spreads your folds apart and your cunt blooms for them - your clit throbbing, skin glistening with your slick. The cold air hits your pussy and you softly moan.
“Dave, people could see,” you whine and try to close your legs but Dave’s hand stops you and you feel his lips at your temple when he says, loud enough for Joel to hear,
“Let’s ask your old friend to sit next to you and cover you from the passers-by. Will you feel more comfortable, baby?”
You glance up at Joel and though you hate his guts, you can’t deny that you want the fucker.
You nod and Joel’s lips stretch into a wide carnal grin.
He gets up and you salivate at the sight of the huge bulge in his jeans. You desperately want to see his cock, touch it, lick it, su—
Dave interrupts your thoughts, shifting to the side and pulling you with him to make room for Joel. The seat is meant for two people and when Joel plops next to you, turning to you a little, your body gets sandwiched between their huge frames. You feel so small, so helpless around the two men and your clit twitches as the arousal floods your core.
With your pussy still out in the open, you glance at Joel when he wraps his arm around your waist and fans your cheek and chest with his hot breath. The familiar scent of cigarettes, whiskey and Joel's musk hits your nose and you quietly whimper.
“Missed me, babygirl?” He’s leaning to you and you move away, pressing your body closer to Dave.
Your boyfriend reads you like a book. He knows that you’re acting skittish but it’s just a facade. You want it, you want them both.
“Baby, you did wrong by Joel. I think we need to apologize. How about we let him play with your pussy? Daddy won’t be mad, I promise.”
You look into Dave’s eyes and see that he’s not lying.
“Ok, daddy,” you purr and Joel barks a laugh.
“Told you she always wants it. Our little slut.”
You bite your lip hearing ‘our’ but Dave shakes his head.
“She’s mine, Joel, don’t forget that. But I see that she hurt you, and you have a right to punish her. Use her however you want.”
Joel throws him a nod. “That’s fair.”
With that his big calloused hand cups your pussy and slightly squeezes it. You look at Dave as he watches your ex’s hand touch you and his blown out eyes send another surge of wetness into Joel’s palm.
“I missed your sweet cunt, babygirl,” Joel whispers in your ear while his middle finger slips between your folds and he prods your soaking entrance.
“Fuck, she’s so wet, Dave. I remember how she used to soak me, her slick was fuckin’ everywhere. Wonder if she tastes the same.”
You see his finger leave your pussy as he brings it to his mouth and licks it clean.
Dave groans and you moan, watching Joel taste you.
Suddenly you feel a slap on your pulsating clit and you jerk, crying out a little too loudly. You cover your mouth with your palm, scared that the people will notice what the men are doing to you but Joel and Dave only chuckle.
“I fucked her last week in a changing room and she moaned like a little slut but now she’s all embarrassed.”
“I loved it about her. She looks so innocent but when you get her going… fuck, she jus’ loses her mind at the sight of a cock.”
You feel your cheeks burn but Dave doesn’t give you a chance to wallow in your delicious shame and inserts two thick fingers into your wet hole.
You moan his name and he kisses your cheek, before he begins sliding them in and out of you in steady rhythm, whispering obscenities in your ear,
“My little slut,” “bet people can see us”, “you don’t care, right?”, “I know you’d make us fuck you right in front of everyone”, “play with our cocks, baby, c’mon.”
When you hear his command, your hand immediately darts to his bulge and you hastily unbuckle his belt with one hand, open his dress pants and pull out his stiffening cock out of his boxers.
“Don’t forget about your friend, kitten,�� Dave rasps, spreading his legs wider, and you unzip Joel’s jeans and take out his already hard manhood.
Their cocks are exposed now and standing at attention, both gorgeous, long and thick. Joel’s is a bit girthier, but you salivate looking at both of them. You can’t deny it, you have a great taste in men.
You spit on your hands and grab Dave’s member with your left hand and Joel’s with your right. They both grunt, when you start sliding your hand up and down their throbbing cocks and you revel in the sense of control they’re giving you. Their slits are leaking on your skin and you glide your palm over their fat tips, gathering their precum to make the cocks wetter.
You’re a mess yourself, the seat under you is getting slippery because of the juices seeping out of your pussy, thanks to your boyfriend’s fingers.
Joel is softly growling, watching your hand pump his cock and Dave working your cunt. “Fuck, I missed you so much, babygirl,” he admits and grabs the neckline of your top. He tugs it down exposing your naked breasts, your perked up mipples and Joel takes one between his index finger and a thumb and shakes his hand up and down. You whimper at the pain that swiftly morphs into pleasure while your tit is bouncing. Joel hunches down and takes it into his hot mouth, gently sucking on it. Your hand flies to run through his hair and your eyes flutter shut, as your climax approaches.
“Come for us, kitten. Soak my fingers,” Dave orders and Joel pushes you over the edge when his fingers find your pulsating clit and he swirls it with his pads while his mouth is still latched on your puffy nipple. Both Dave and Joel are playing with your cunt and soon you’re writhing between them, as waves of euphoria are lapping at your body. You try not to scream but it’s almost impossible, so you bite your lips till you taste blood, desperately trying to hide your ecstasy from the people in the restaurant.
When your orgasm subsides and you slump in your seat, breathing heavily, Joel’s mouth leaves your breast and their fingers part from your messy pussy.
You languidly stroke their cocks, feeling them thrum in your hands.
Dave turns your face to him and kisses you, licking into your mouth, claiming you as his in front of the other man. While your lips and tongues are caressing each other, you hear Joel almost moan from the pleasure your hand is giving him and you part from your boyfriend to whisper,
“He’s gonna come soon, daddy.”
“Want his cum, kitten?”
You nod and he smiles.
“Sit on my cock so I can fill you up. And give your mouth to Joel.”
“Yes, daddy.”
You fix your top and Dave helps you to sit on his stiff member. You both moan at the sensation but Joel curses at the absence of your hand on his ready-to-explode cock.
When you lean down, bringing your mouth to his length, the older man coos, “what a good little slut. Want my load, babygirl?” You look up at him and breathe out a sultry ‘yes’.
“C’mon, milk our cocks, kitten,” Dave commands with a light slap on your ass and you clench around him, making him grunt.
You take Joel’s manhood in your mouth and it’s like those years apart didn’t happen. The taste of his skin, the shape of his cock are so familiar you moan, thinking how much you missed it.
Dave slowly rolls his hips into you, holding your hips with his strong hands and his length slides in and out of your clenching wet hole. You feel the second climax build fast, so you move your hips up and down to make him fuck you harder.
“Man, you did wonders with her. She’s such an obedient little slut now,” Joel praises your boyfriend as their cocks are filling your body from both ends.
“It’s a work in progress, but she’ll be a good girl in no time.”
The way they talk about you like you’re not here, like you’re not pierced on their hard cocks is so delicious that after one hard thrust from Dave, you explode, unravelling on your boyfriend’s manhood as your moans are muffled by your ex’s fat length.
Your trembling body sends the men over the precipice, and Joel starts spurting his warm cum in your mouth and you drink it, hungrily slurping till the last drop. As soon as you’re done swallowing your ex’s load, Dave pulls you up by your shoulder and presses you tight to his body, wrapping his arm around your waist, the other hand splayed on your chest. You feel warmth in your core as his manhood is pulsing inside your pussy and filling you up with his big load. Joel tucks his softening cock back in his jeans, watching your boyfriend’s balls draw up and pump you full while your hole is stretched around his girth.
When Dave stops coming, he carefully lifts you up and quickly pulls back your panties. You sit back down between the men as Dave softly kisses your lips in gratitude and then orders you,
“Don’t spill a drop, baby. Want you to soak your little panties through.”
“Can I see?” Joel asks the younger man, not you, and Dave gives him a short nod.
Joel brings his hand to your pussy and pulls on the band of your underwear. He peeks inside, seeing the creamy cum coat the gusset and your puffy folds.
“You're so fuckin’ hot, babygirl. Did so good for us.” Joel mumbles in your ear and you glance up at him with a little smile. You can’t deny it, you loved this fucker.
As if reading your mind, Joel shoots you a wink and looks at Dave again.
“Was nice meeting you, Dave.” Then he takes a card out of his wallet and puts it on the table.
“If you wanna share the progress, training this one,” he nods at you, “give me a call.”
Then he gets up, adjusts his bulge and leaves the restaurant.
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Thank you for reading!❤️ Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more filth for you, lovelies!🩷🌸
Pt 2 Who’s your daddy? || Masterlist
Main tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag
Also tagging the ceo of the Dave York agenda @janaispunk 😘💕
If you'd like to be tagged in the series or in anything else let me know!💕
695 notes · View notes
arthenaa · 10 months
Text
blurred lines — mizu x f!reader
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synopsis: your relationship with your roommate often threads the lines between friends and of something more.
content: fluff, suggestive themes, modern! au, roommate!mizu one jumping off a cliff joke mentioned, taigen, ringo, and akemi being great friends, mizu uses she/her pronouns, she/her pronouns for reader as well, mizu and you call each other bon/bonnie as an endearment, mizu is ur bf but not rlly your bf yk, mutual pining
song will be later mentioned in the story but listen to it while you're reading <3
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It isn't to anyone's surprise that more often than not, people mistake you and Mizu as a couple. It's gotten bad to the point that it's already counted as an inside joke in your little group of five.
Taigen was the main culprit of the joke (as usual). He often lets his tongue run loose in the most random of situations. Whatever piques his interest, he always has something to say about it. You're not sure if it's because of Taigen's natural person magnet trait but surely, you think this is somehow his fault.
"I just want to say how adorable of a couple you two are!" A person from your year—someone you had met in passing during your Ethics class for sure—gushed as she sat down on the empty seat in front of you. You stare at her, mouth slightly agape in shock at the sudden intrusion, Akemi chortles from her seat while Mizu's starting to look like she's about to commit homicide. It was currently your free period, hoping for a time to relax and wait for your next class, you sure weren't expecting to be bombarded by a series of questions about your love life. You're hoping that both of your unwelcomed stares would drive this person away, but the gal continues off on a tangent. "Not to be like—a real gossipy person, but like, I heard from Sanchez that you guys were dating, and I had my suspicions back then during Ethics class but I just HAD to confirm it, y'know?"
You lock eyes with Akemi seated beside the girl as she hides her grin behind her drink. You're so going to wipe that smile off her face soon.
"I'm pretty sure that's none of your business," Mizu deadpans as she stares at her under her tinted glasses. She taps her index finger on the surface of the table, a telltale sign of her impatience. The girl remains oblivious.
"Oh, come on! We were groupmates last semester! I'm pretty sure we're already close enough to know stuff like this," She sends the both of you a wink to which you wince as Mizu stiffens beside you. You're sure it was taking a real toll on her to prevent her from committing a felony and so you've decided to step up.
"I-I'm sorry," You give her a sheepish smile, hand raised to provide a calm reassurance of not being hostile. "I'm sure you mean well and everything but we're really tired. Whatever you're thinking, it's a no."
You give her your best award-winning smile with the hopes that she'll leave you both alone. You see her slightly pull back, finally reading the room but she pauses at the last second as Mizu wraps an arm around your waist. You're not sure why the girl gives you a cheeky grin as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder but your resolve is soon starting to waver if she doesn't get her ass off your table.
"Alright, whatever you say," She coos, eyes squinting playfully as she gathers herself off your booth. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. See you around!"
The three of you watch as she makes her way out of the shop before your shoulders release the tension you've both been holding over the past few minutes. Akemi chuckles at your expressions
"Oh my god, If you hadn't done that I would've gone off the rails," Mizu groans as she rests her head on the table.
"You should've, to be honest, might make this whole debacle a lot more interesting than whatever you have with Y/N," Akemi snickers from her seat as Mizu sends her a glare. "Funniest thing I've seen all semester. Keep it up."
"You're full of shit," Mizu grumbles from her seat. Akemi flashes her her middle finger. You roll your eyes at their banter.
"I don't get what's the big deal," You cross your arms over your chest. "I mean people do the things me and Mizu do all the time."
Akemi gives you a blank stare. "I mean this in the best possible way but if I didn't love you and you said that to me, I would actually slap your face."
"I can slap your face for free, right now."
"Not now, Mizu," You nudged her knee in retaliation as the blue-eyed girl grumbled in response. "Also, bullshit. That's unfair."
Akemi rolls her eyes before slamming her drink down on the table. "That's unfair? You two are basically me and Taigen if Taigen grew the balls to actually court me instead of parading his biceps like a damn himbo. That honestly felt like I'd lost 20 years of my life. She's at your beck and call and even fucking ditches our hangouts just because you had a little cold. That's what's unfair."
You stare at her with furrowed eyebrows as she huffs and takes an angry sip of her drink. You slowly nod, trying to get a sense of her reasoning. Well, you and Mizu had developed a natural sense of service-giving to each other. After all, your deep friendship was only a resort of living together. Wouldn't anyone be that considerate to their best friends?
"I swear to God," Akemi places a hand in front of her mouth as she looks between the two of you. Mizu had already tuned her out, opting to hug you close by the waist and leaning her head on your shoulder as she took the time to rest. "I'm so close to throwing myself off the cliff figuratively and it's both of your fault."
You roll your eyes at her, crumpling a tissue paper before throwing it towards her. The gal dodges it with ease before scrunching her nose.
"You're overreacting."
"Sure," Akemi squints her eyes. "Whatever fits your story."
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You're not sure when it started but somehow Akemi's words started to get to you. You knew, for sure, (you think?) that she was just bluffing. Your relationship with Mizu was yours and yours alone, anything between the two of you must be kept between the two of you only. It wasn't as if the comments of other people had affected you—you often tend to brush them off, treating some of them as either praises of your close bond or jokes due to their easygoing nature. You're not sure if it's because of Akemi's short-tempered personality that you've started to notice things too.
"Here," Mizu's voice startles you out of your focus. You turn your head to see the raven-haired gal, hair down and cozy in a black hoodie and sweatpants. You had been studying and getting things done at your uni's library as finals were nearing. The desk at your dorm and the familiarity of your room seemed to mess up with your productivity and so you decided to change venues. Mizu, being the good-hearted angel that she is, drops a cup of coffee beside you and a bag of your favorite food. She then tucks her hands into the pockets of her hoodie.
You look up at her with a pout, eyes softened. "You didn't have to."
Mizu pats your head before gingerly pulling the seat next to you. She sits down and leans her head on her arm perched on the table. "It's the least I could do. You're working hard."
You smile at her praise, glancing at the worksheets sprawled on your table. It wouldn't hurt to take a break, no?
Mizu gives you a raise of an eyebrow as you turn your body towards her, copying her form. Your lips pull into a small smile as you reach out to brush her loose locks. "It's way past your curfew. You should've just slept."
Mizu snorts. "You say that like I'm a child."
You reach out to pinch her cheek causing her to swat your hand away. Letting out a few giggles as she scrunches her nose at you. You would've continued to act normal afterward, there was nothing to freak out over but then Mizu started staring at you with that gaze of hers. Usually, you would either jokingly stare back or playfully ignore her but somehow this time, you're suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. You let out a cough as you turn back toward your worksheets, unable to handle the intensity of her gaze.
Not sure if she noticed it or what, you make quick haste to get back on track with your studying. About 15 minutes in, you hear shifting beside you. Thinking that it's her cue to go, you turn toward her with curiosity but then your chair moves swiftly to her side. You let out a yelp as she moves your chair with one arm, closer toward her.
"Mizu—!" You squeak at the sudden movement as she lets out a few chuckles at your reaction. Soon enough, a deep flush bursts across your cheeks due to the sudden proximity. She's faced toward you, legs spread to accommodate your figure, and her other arm perched on the back of your chair.
You feel your heart speed up as she leans close and smiles. "Get back to studying, Bonnie."
You obediently follow her orders as you lower your head to get back to answering the worksheets in front of you. You hear Mizu chuckle beside you as you willed yourself to continue writing and ignore her very existence.
Heart? Speed up? What the fuck?
There's a moment of reprieve before you feel the sudden thump of Mizu's head against your shoulder.
"What's up?" You hum gingerly, your free hand moving up to gently pet her head. Mizu shifts her body close, the arm at the back of your chair pulling your shoulder and body to her.
"Do you want Italian or Chinese?" She asks out of the blue, eyes watching you write down equations and numerical formulas on your paper. Your heart softens as you feel her other hand envelope over your stomach, pulling you into a side hug.
There weren't many people around the library at this time of the night besides the occasional suffering computer science major seated at the far end of the library and the librarian herself. Mizu allows herself to be vulnerable within your care. You eye your worksheets, debating finishing them or giving your cute roommate dozing off on your shoulder attention.
Nah, fuck it.
You gently close your notes before cupping Mizu's cheek, softly pulling her up from your shoulder.
"Hm?" Mizu hums as she slowly blinks at you, face leaning towards your touch as you cup her face gingerly within your palms. You give her a soft smile, thumbs running softly across her cheeks.
"Ordering takeout might be a bit too much right now," You quietly whisper to her, eyes crinkling playfully. She lets out a few chuckles at your response. "Although, I recall having a waffle mixture back at our dorm and we still have your dad's waffle maker. What do you say?"
Her gaze darts over you face before she pulls away from your touch. You look at her curious as she scoots to the edge of her seat before pulling you into a hug. The raven-haired girl burrows her face on your neck, letting a loud sigh of relief as she encased you in her arms.
"Alright," She mumbles on the collar of your shirt, breath tickling your neck. You flush at her proximity, opting to rest your head gently against hers. Just as the two of you would continue to bask in each other's presence, a cough alerts the two of you to pull away.
Your eyes dart toward the culprit as the librarian raises her eyebrow toward the both of you.
"You can take your couple date elsewhere if you both have nothing better to do here." The old lady deadpans, fanning herself with her foldable fan. The both of you stare as she gives you one last judgmental look before walking away. Mizu wordlessly helps you pack up your stuff, leaving the library with you trailing behind with your ears flushed red.
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"Listen," Taigen takes a deep breath before continuing. "We're only choosing your dorm because Akemi has their annual dorm parties, Our kitchen broke so Ringo can't cook, and we know Mizu is a loaded motherfucker, alright? It's absolutely not because we want to see your icky mundane domestic life."
Mizu leans against the doorframe, staring Taigen down as he finishes his piece. You, on the other hand, can only smile from your spot behind Mizu. It had been your scheduled movie night with friends and originally, it was Ringo and Taigen's turn to host but due to unfortunate circumstances, the duty of hosting befell on your shoulders again. Albeit, a bit rushed this time.
Akemi rolls her eyes beside Taigen before stepping up towards the doorway and pushing her way through Mizu's defense (Mizu let her in, she didn't do anything wrong). Ringo smiles gleefully from his spot beside Taigen before sliding his way inside and pulling you in a hug (again, Mizu let him in, he's the only person who can actually cook).
"Y/N!" Your tall bubbly-bear looking friend cheers as he swings you back and forth in his hug. You giggle as you return the gesture, slightly pulling away and patting his cheeks. Ringo grins. "I missed you!"
You playfully roll your eyes at him. "Oh come on Ringo, I saw you last week."
"Too long!" Ringo whines as he rests his head on top of yours. Your heart warms at Ringo's affections. Your dear friend was a walking talking incarnation of a life-sized teddy bear. The two of you continue to giggle at each other's presence, not noticing the pair of blue eyes trained on you.
"Oi, Ring," Mizu calls out from her position by the doorway, eyes pulled into a glare. Ringo stiffens beside you at her tone. You could only blink your eyes at her with a curious gaze. "Get your ass in the kitchen."
"On it!" Ringo makes no haste and eventually bolts to your dorm's kitchen. You place your hand on your hips as you stare at her with a raised eyebrow. Mizu only looks away before catching a sneaking Taigen trying to move his way inside. The raven-haired girl slams her hand on the doorframe preventing Taigen from entering.
"Where do you think you're going?" Mizu asks with a threatening glare. Her eyes squint as you watch Taigen sweatdrop.
"C'mon, man! I just want to fucking watch Ryan Gosling, can you let me in?!" Taigen whines, stomping his foot. Mizu's face stays blank, hand clutching the doorframe. Taigen resorts to plan B and looks up at you from his spot with the most disturbing try of puppy eyes. "Y/N, please I'll treat you all the fucking bobas you want just please pull your war freak of a wife away from me."
You chuckle as he clasps his hands together, ignoring Mizu's pointed glare. You knew that Mizu would let him in either way. After all Mizu says, and you quote, "It's like leaving a fucking dog outside with all that yapping."
Finally deciding to help Taigen, your eyes gaze at Mizu's back with a smile. "Bon, c'mon leave him be."
There's a pause of silence before Mizu eases up on the doorway and eventually side steps. Taigen lets out a noise of victory before making quick steps toward you and places a kiss on the side of your temple.
"This is why you're my favorite," Taigen crinkles his eyes playfully. You roll your eyes, slapping his arm.
"You said that to Akemi 3 days ago."
"The past is past, what matters is the pre—"
A loud smack on the head propels Taigen forward causing your eyes to widen. You turn to Mizu who looks at him with disgust.
"I let you in and you still yap like a dog. Do you want me to kick you out again?" Mizu stands next to you with a menacing glare. You watch in amusement as Taigen frowns, rubbing the back of his head.
"Goddamn, just fucking marry this emotionally constipated motherfucker please so that I may find peace," Taigen makes a pointed look towards you. "I hate that I'm always at the receiving end of your punches when Y/N doesn't give you a bit of her atten—AGH!"
You let out a few giggles as you watched Mizu try and kick him away from where the two of you were standing. The poor man cowers behind Akemi who elbows him off her figure as she tries to browse through you and Mizu's shared Netflix account.
Your eyes glance toward Mizu who grumbles under her breath before turning towards you.
"Never let him in our dorm ever again please." Mizu deadpans prompting soft laughs from your lips. You then watch as Mizu walks toward you, eyes squinting at the side of your temple before grabbing your face with one hand—cheeks smushed.
"Mijuuuu," You whine as she tilts your head to the side. You notice her gaze on where Taigen kissed you. Your eyebrows furrowed as Mizu reached you with the sleeve of her hoodie pulled over her fingers. She then makes harsh wiping movements on your temple causing you to groan.
"Ow." You sob playfully as she finishes her ministrations. Mizu then turns your head towards her, the corners of her lips slightly upturned as she squishes your face within her grasp.
"Cute." She mumbles before leaning down to place a chaste kiss on your forehead. Your heart thumps against your chest—eyes wide as a deep flush rises to your ears. Whether Mizu noticed it or not, she only pulled away and walked over to where Akemi and Taigen were—both too busy fighting each other for the remote (Akemi wants horror but Taigen insists on a Ryan Gosling marathon).
You stand still in the hallway, breath hitching as you try to calm yourself down.
Unfair.
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There's a nagging thought at the back of your head that you think that you might've been a little bit too lenient with Mizu.
Your friendship and current situation as roommates didn't start off in a good footing. Having met Ringo and Mizu during freshman orientation, you had no choice but to stick close to them due to the unfamiliar environment. Ringo welcomed you with open arms while Mizu didn't care if you joined or not. Apparently, she didn't really care about Ringo or you.
It was safe to say that your first impression of your roommate with her ever-perpetual stone-cold glare had not been the best. After all, she had ignored you most of the time and tended to stray away from your group of three.
It was during that time that she had issues with her current roommate who always tried to bring people in as a one-night stand that the two of you decided on common ground.
You were out that night, going on a quick walk break from midterms when you saw Mizu complaining at the front desk. Still considering her your friend albeit a bit hesitant due to her off-putting nature, you hear Mizu complain to the landlord. You overheard her issues with her roommate and decided to offer your space up as your previous roommate had shifted courses, was transferred to a farther building, and therefore had to move to a closer dormitory. She seemed awkward but grateful enough to accept your offer.
Then things are where they are now. After knowing and living with each other for at least 2 years now, your closeness with Mizu didn't really bother you. It was nice being comfortable enough to just be authentic in front of somebody without the fear of getting judged. Mizu tends to be quite direct with her words and doesn't like to bluff around. That's what you kind of love and hate about her.
Love because she's upfront—what you see is what you get. She gives you thoughtful advice, the most rational between the two of you, mature and level headed enough to tell you the truth when nobody else would. Hate because sometimes she's too direct. Direct about your mistakes and wrongdoings but also direct about what she feels.
Like this instance.
"Mizu?" Your feet cladded socks thump loudly against the wooden floor, waddling your way toward your roommate who is busy mopping the living room.
"Yeah?" She calls out, hair tied in her usual bun as she continues to clean. She hears you enter the area, turning towards you with her hand outstretched. "Careful. Floor's wet."
"Yeah, yeah." You grab her hand, watching as she puts the mop away to the side. Finally having her undivided attention, you swing your hands back and forth as you come to say what you went for in the first place. "So y'know how Akemi got her internship at that company she really worked hard for?"
"Mmh."
"Then she was offered like a position right?"
"Mmh."
"So like, as a reward for her great performance, she got tickets for us to watch Laufey next week."
Mizu's eyebrows raised in recognition. "Really?"
You nod your head with enthusiasm, smile brimming from ear to ear. Mizu's eyes softened as she lets you continue.
"So I was wondering," You bite your bottom lip as your hand shifts to wrap around her index finger—still swaying it back and forth. "Can you help me find an outfit, please?"
Mizu hums as you peer at her with an excited grin. The raven-haired woman glances at her unfinished work before sighing.
"I suppose cleaning can wait." She responds before getting pulled in a hug.
"Thank you! Thank you!" You make careful tiptoes around her work as you walk back to your room.
It takes Mizu about 7 minutes to finally reach your room with a soft knock on your door. You tell her to come in as she gently opens the door to walk inside.
"Options?" Mizu sighs in relief as she plops down on the bed. You tell her your options and Mizu nods for you to try them on.
It takes a while for both of you to decide—eventually having to stick with two dresses. Finally trying the last dress on, you twirl in front of the mirror, examining the way you look before meeting Mizu's eyes on the reflection.
"That's the one," Mizu says with a soft tone. There's something about the way she eyes you up and down with a gentle look in her eyes paired with the soft tone of her deep voice. You pause, turning around to see her on the edge of your bed, arms resting on her knees—hands interlocked with her body leaned forward. Those hues of blue peer up at you with half-lidded eyes. Your cheeks heat up.
She breathes a heavy breath before motioning for you to come over with a come hither motion of her fingers. "C'mere."
You make slow steps toward her form, a couple of inches away from each other. You look down at her as she eyes you up, an unreadable look on her face before she suddenly stands up from her seat. Suddenly you're reminded of Mizu's height, albeit only a couple of inches taller than you, you still had to crane your neck at a distance as close as you were now. Suddenly the air seemed thick and constricting.
There's a sudden tension filling the air as the two of you only look into each other's eyes. You find yourself unable to blink as you admire her features. A mix of handsome and pretty—a face you've seen countless times and yet still be in awe of.
Just as the moment had started, Mizu suddenly ends it with a flick on your forehead causing you to blink.
"Hey!" You whine at the sudden gesture, hands reaching up to touch the spot she flicked at. Mizu smirks, chuckling.
"You blinked, I won."
You scoff at her. "Unfair."
She then fixes the fabric of your dress, making sure that the pleats and the flow is positioned nicely. Then the next few words stun you.
"You look really beautiful, Y/N." She says with such a genuine tone that it leaves you speechless. Seeing your reaction she lets out a few laughs then pinches your cheek. You let out a chuckle at the sound of her laughter.
"Favorite Laufey song?" You tilt your head in curiosity as you look up at her with a smile. Mizu softly blinks with a gentle smile.
"Serendipity."
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Your hands slam against the wooden surface of the desk inside the library's discussion room. Three pairs of eyes—one filled with curiosity, one with indifference, and one with annoyance. You breathe heavily as you lock eyes with each one.
"I think I like Mizu."
Suddenly Taigen stands up from his seat and applauds you—Ringo, ever the sweetheart he is, smiles at you and waves his arms for a little celebration dance.
"Congratulations, Sherlock," Taigen smiles sarcastically. "If I had to watch the two of you in an eternal battle of who's the most oblivious, I would already have a degree in Bachelor of No Communication, Major in being a pussy and a minor in having mommy issues."
Akemi gives him a disgusted glare. "Can you shut the fuck up or is being a yapper your honest profession?"
"Alright," Taigen raises his hands. "Chill."
Akemi rolls her eyes before looking at you with her lips upturned. "Happy that you're finally realizing it, hun."
You groan as run your palms over your face. "That's the problem!"
"Why's that a problem?" Ringo asks innocently. You pull yours hands down with a huff.
"It's Mizu."
"So?" Akemi raises an eyebrow.
"Mizu's my best friend," You whine. "I can't risk it when I don't know if she feels the same."
"Be fucking for real right now." Akemi deadpans as she crosses her arms over her chest. "The damn woman looks at you as if you've just given her the stars and the moon. Y'know know how much I envy that?"
Taigen nudges Akemi beside him with a pout. Akemi glances at him with a sigh. "I was just making a point. You'd have to be dumb stupid to not notice anything at all, Y/N."
You purse your lips as you sheepishly look at Akemi like a child being punished.
"You did, didn't you?" Akemi squints her eyes with a smile. "Precisely why I favor you over that emotional catastrophe of a woman. I suggest taking the chance. It's not every day that you find someone that's a complete fit for you."
Akemi gives you a soft smile. You purse your lips as Taigen gives you a thumbs up.
"You can do it, Y/N." Ringo smiles at you from his seat. "If there's anything I know about Mizu, it's that she cares for you a lot more than you think."
You nod, encouraged by your friends' advice and reassurance. While Mizu's someone you didn't want to lose, you'd rather take the risk on giving her the love she deserves rather than keeping it buried within you.
Finally, your resolve is built and strengthened. It's just Mizu, it should be alright.
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To put things simply, it had been 3 weeks since your talk with Taigen, Akemi, and Ringo.
The three have tried their very best to allow you to confess but somehow Mizu always has something to do or something keeps ruining the moment. Confessing in a cafe? Suddenly a random NPC interrupts. In the library? Librarian follows you everywhere with that judgmental gaze of hers after your previous altercation. Campus garden? Mizu's getting called for org duties. Your own dorm? Mizu's asleep.
You're at your wit's ends and while you can tell that all of this isnt intentionally done, you can still feel the frustration.
It's this night where you reach your final straw.
You had just gotten home after a day of requirements, finals, and activities. Mizu's schedule was moved a bit earlier causing the two of you to be quite busy due to the gap in the dates for your finals. When you're free, Mizu's taking an exam. When Mizu's got nothing to do, you're working your ass off in the library.
The finals season has completely ended and you're walking home with a fleeting mind and relieved sigh.
As you make the turn toward your dormitory, you notice a familiar head of black crouched over the sidewalk. Your eyebrows furrowed as you see Mizu busy with whatever caught her attention. Just as you reach at least a meter away from her, you see a fluffy white cat perk its head behind Mizu's figure, blue eyes sparkling with curiosity as it mews at your figure.
"Huh?" You hear Mizu hum before turning to face you. A look recognition passes her eyes. "Oh. You're home."
You fall silent as you continue to watch her pet the cat. You hear its purrs as it leans its head to Mizu's touch.
"I cooked hotpot upstairs," Mizu says, eyes still looking at you. Her hair is down, only pinned back by her glasses worn over her head. That little frail bang escapes with ease from it as she looks down to see the cat on its back, paws demanding a belly rub. She's wearing the black sweater you gave her with its sleeves rolled up to her arms.
Fuck. Why does she look so—
"I can tell you're spent," Mizu softly smiles at you. There's a slight breeze that gently ruffles her hair. "You did so well, Bonnie."
Then it's as if something snapped within you and there's nothing that could stop you from unleashing the pent up frustration of not getting a moment with her.
"Oh my god," Your gaze is unwavering as you stare at her figure. She raises an eyebrow at your response. "I'm so fucking in love with you."
Mizu stops her ministrations with the cat, figure tensing as the light breeze of the wind fills in the void. Your heart thumps as you breathe heavily, watching any sort of reaction for her shocked face.
Then it is as if you could hear a pin drop then a change in the atmosphere. Mizu is flushed deep red, eyes blinking as she stares at you with mouth agape.
Your eyebrows raise in amusement.
"Huh?"
"I love you." You repeat taking a step closer to her crouched form. She furrows her eyebrows, blush spreading up to her ears. Oh?
"I-I don't—"
You grin as you crouch in front of her, eyes trained on her shy features. "I said I love you."
"Y/N." Mizu grumbles as she tries to glare at you.
"What?" You shrug, smile brimming from ear to ear. The emotions on her face are clear as she stammers and stutters in front of you.
"That's not fair." She grits her teeth.
"What's not fair?" You tilt your head in amusement.
"I wanted to say it first." She mumbles as she looks down at the cat purring between the two of you.
You let out a soft laugh at her whining.
"Well, I'll pretend I didn't say anything and that I just walked back from school," Mizu eyes you in confusion as you stand back up and run a few meters away from her—back from where you previously stood. You clear your throat as you straightened yourself up. "Oh my god! Finals is so hard, if only there's a hot tall masculine woman to declare their love for me."
You end with a dramatic touch of the back of your hand against your forehead. Mizu chuckles, shaking her head before standing to her full height. She reaches you with ease, lips turned to a smile as her hands make their way to cup your face.
"You're an idiot," She grumbles with affection before pulling you in a kiss. There's no time wasted as you kiss back, clutching the fabric of her sweater as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss.
You squeak as you feel her tongue intertwine with yours. You feel yourself get lightheaded, melting in her touch as your arms wrap around her neck while hers takes hold of your waist. She pulls you closer with no distance left to break you apart. You whine as you feel her bite on your bottom lip, gently pulling it before pulling away. Heavy breaths are what fills the space between your bodies, eyes still trained on swollen red lips while want and need courses through your veins.
She lets out a grunt as she dives to taste more of you, pecking your lips once, twice—thrice before finally breaking off.
There's a moment of silence before hushed giggles errupted between the two of you—Mizu swaying your bodies as you both bask in each other's presence.
Hushed whispers, sweet nothings, wide smiles, and stolen kisses are all that's seen between two idiots in love. Before you can further enjoy your moment with Mizu, a loud meow interrupts your moment. The two of you look down at the cat licking its paw as it stares up at you both.
It swishes its tail back and forth, tilting its head before stretching. You and Mizu look at each other with a smile.
"You up for another roommate? Might be severely in love with you too." You tease as the cat leans its body against Mizu. Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. You giggle.
"Oh, shut up."
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a/n:
you: *sees mizu w a cat* marry me
mizu: ?
projecting ken tendencies in taigen mb. akemi is a mood tbh.
1K notes · View notes
enwoso · 4 months
Note
Hi can you write a Lucy bronze x reader. Reader is the shy one of the team and during teamnights and interviews reader is very reserved. With Lucy she isn’t as shy. Lucy helps reader slowly get out her shell (some fluff :))
JUST NOT ME — lucy bronze
*i truly apologise for the lack of posts in the past few days, i’ve had a hectic few days and i’ve been focused on studying so sorry if this sucks — posts will probably be a bit inconsistent over the next few weeks but i’ll be as active as i can<3*
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"you excited?" beth asked as the car pulled into the entrance of st george's park, the familiar surroundings bringing a small smile to your face. this was your first call up to the england squad in almost a year, having been out with the dreaded ACL injury.
"i guess" you shrugged, beth shaking her head in amusement. you didn't really know how to explain it, of course you were excited, who wouldn't be happy playing for their country but you were almost nervous, what if you weren't up the standard of others in the group.
"always the women of few words!" beth joked, one you had heard many times as the arsenal girls loved to tease you about how quiet you were but that's just how you were cause not everyone was her.
they didn’t know that you needed a chance to warm up to people before you let them into your bubble, they didn’t know that even though because you don’t say a lot that you aren’t paying attention as you notice every persons small habits they have. cause not everyone was her.
you were a listener and not someone who could sit and chat someone's ears off for ever more than a day like the likes of beth mead and ella toone could do so effortlessly without even realising.
but maybe that's what lucy liked so much about you.
you and lucy had been together just nearing two years now, the two of you had known of each other for a while it wasn't until a night out in london with the lionesses that leah had dragged you to after you had said for days on end that you weren’t going, that you and lucy spoke to each other.
you sitting in the corner of the club, drink in hand as you watched millie and rachel on the karaoke a small smile on your face at their singing which was not the slightest in tune at all.
lucy spotting you sat alone slipping in the booth with you before asking you why you weren't doing karaoke like everyone else, you shrugging at the girls question before she asked you if you wanted to do it with her.
you face going red as you almost immediately shook your head, but lucy being lucy had her mission for the night and that was to get you to do karaoke, and to which she succeeded after sitting and having a few more drinks with you.
and from that night, the rest was history.
you rolled your eyes at beth's comment as she chuckled to herself getting out the cab first, getting her luggage as you followed close behind her, thanking the driver as you headed into the entrance of st george's park.
taking in the familiar surroundings, as you looked around noticing the few changes since the last time you were here.
"i'm not holding these doors open for the good of my own health, hurry up!" beth pointed out, her thick northern accent bouncing off the walls as she was stood in the doorway of the lift, pulling you out of your trace as you hurried to get into the lift. pressing the buttons on the side of the wall for the floor you needed.
you and beth getting out of the lift on the same floor, you noticing your girlfriend as she had her back turned the opposite way, a smile appearing on your face.
beth nudging you, "go on!" she whispered as you said a small bye to the blonde as she walked the opposite way.
"your here!" a voice cheered which you knew all too well, lucy stood at the end of the hallway in front of her room door as you stopped your suitcase at your own door.
you smiled seeing the girl, your smile getting bigger with every step she took closer to before engulfing you in a tight hug. your whole body relaxing in hers, the smell of her perfume that you had missed.
“of course i’m here?” you smiled confused at her reaction to seeing you stood in the hallway. “well the media was saying you were gonna withdraw because of an irritation in your knee” she admitted a small frown on her face at the mention of your knee, knowing how hard and the amount of hours you had put in just to get back to the level you were at just last year.
“baby, you do know i would tell you before i even told sarina if i was going to withdraw don’t you?” you asked her, your hands finding their way up the back of her training top, your girlfriend having been here since early as she’d had an early flight to catch this morning.
“yeah”
"anyways, i've missed you" you mumbled into her neck, nestling your head as her hands fell to your lower back you feeling her smile against your forehead as she kissed it.
"i've missed you too love" she smiled as you looked up with a lovesick smile on your face. lucy pressing small kisses to your cheeks, nose and chin before finally pressing a soft kiss to your lips — which you would be dammed to say that you hadn't missed.
it was hard at times being away from your girlfriend for weeks on end as she played in barcelona and you were playing in north london at arsenal. having to schedule weeks in advance of when you would next be able to see each other.
but it made moments like these all the more worth it.
when you would finally be reunited and be in her arms again. sometime you think the distance made the two of you closer in a weird way as you felt as though you cherished you time together more.
"you coming down to lunch?" your girlfriend asked as she pressed your foreheads together, the smile never leaving either of your faces. you nodded, "yeah, let me just put my bag in and chance my shoes"
lucy hummed as she let you go from the hug, grabbing your suitcase for you as you rummaged around your pocket for your room key, the green light flashing as you pushed the handle down.
the door shutting with a click as you opened your suitcase finding your sliders to slip on, “baby, you got another pair!” lucy whisper yelled, pointing to your pink crocs that you were pulling out of your suitcase as she sat at the end of the bed watching you.
“yeah?”
“so what? that makes it seven pairs you’ve got now!” lucy said exaggerating the amount, as you huffed rolling your eyes as if she didn’t have trainers lined up on her bedroom floor.
“three actually” you sassed standing up and checking your hair in the mirror as lucy pulled a face at you, you doing one back to her.
“now quit your complaining, i want food!” you smiled sweetly at your girlfriend grabbing her hand and pulling her up from the bed as she pecked your lips quickly before you left your room not before checking that you had your phone and key card to actually get back into your room.
walking down hand in hand with lucy to where food was being served, as you filled each other in on the journey here. lucy’s sounding a lot more exciting then your two hour car journey consisting of views of trees and beth chatting your ears off about anything and every.
saying a small hello to others that you hadn’t seen since arriving before grabbing something to eat and sitting on a table just the two of you.
"on sunday, i went for breakfast with my mum and you know all she spoke about was you!" you complained as lucy had a smirk on her face as she put another forkful of food into her mouth, nodding alone to what you were saying.
"that's because i'm her favourite" lucy laughed as you rolled your eyes. “clearly, it’s so annoying-“ you began before being cut off by two blondes joining you at the table.
"how do you do that?" leah asked, directing her question more at lucy than you, as she sat down beth following behind the captain. as the two sat down at the table you and lucy were sat at.
"do what?" lucy asked, confusion taking over her face as she looked to you who shrugged putting another forkful of food in your mouth.
"get y/n to have a conversation!" leah pointed to you as you felt your cheeks go a little red as a small smile appeared on your face, as lucy looked back to the blonde and the two others still not really understanding what leah was trying to get at.
"we always have a conversation?" lucy shrugged as if it was nothing, cause to her it was. you had never really spoken to lucy until she had brought you out your shell. lucy knew you were more reserved when it came to talking to others, you would speak but it would be very few words.
but she wouldn’t change it for the word cause even if you didn’t say anything back she knew you were always listening and taking in everything she was saying.
beth and leah began to recount all the the times they had talked to you and you only ever gave them a one word answer, the two pleading with lucy to tell them her ways.
"really? y/n over here is a little chatterbox!" lucy smiled over to you as you awkwardly smiled at the two not really knowing what to say.
"she's not at shy as she likes to let everyone think she is!" she bumped your shoulder, as you rolled your eyes the sound of your fork tinkering against the plate in front as beth and leah’s mouth hang wide open in shock.
"no i refuse to believe it, how!"
"your just not me" lucy joked, the four of you beginning to laugh as you nodded your head in agreement, "i mean your not entirely wrong"
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liked by lj10 and 736,250 others
lucybronze no one compares ☺️
comments -
youruser awh how cute
-> lucybronze no i meant no one compares to me?
-> youruser your ego is sickening at times.
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deerlino · 4 months
Text
DENYING THE OBVIOUS
— “i'm not falling in love,” he says, while he's actually falling the hardest. minho's in such deep denial, it's like he's drowning in the nile.
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words ༯ 0.8k / pairing ༯ lee minho x gn!reader / tags ༯ best friends to lovers (kinda), childhood friends, mutual pining, fluff, humor, teasing & banter, arcade games, unspoken feelings, slice of life / content warnings ༯ fluff and more fluff !
a/n ༯ eh, this one's not my top-notch work, had a few bumps and hiccups, but hey, it's alright. took me ages to write tho. 😭 wanted to really nail that denial part, but i guess it's decent enough. hope you still got a kick out of it ! <3
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“I’m not falling in love,” he says.
You stare at Minho, half-smirking, half-annoyed. He’s sprawled out on your bed, flipping through one of your old comic books, pretending he’s way cooler than he actually is. His hair is a mess—he’s too lazy to even run a hand through it properly. You roll your eyes.
“Sure, Minho. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you say, tossing a pillow at his face. He barely dodges it, laughing. It’s that laugh that makes your heart skip a beat, but you refuse to admit it.
“Why would I be falling for you?” he teases, grinning. “You’re like... my best friend. And you’re a pain in the ass.”
You snort. “Right back at you, loser.”
He sits up, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “Let’s be real. If anyone’s falling, it’s definitely not me. I’m the epitome of self-control.”
You can’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, right. You cried watching Toy Story 3.”
“Hey, that was emotional!” he protests, eyes wide in mock offense. “Andy grew up, okay? It’s relatable.”
“Sure, sure,” you say, shaking your head. You grab your phone and plop down beside him, scrolling through your messages. He leans over, way too close, trying to peek at your screen.
“Who’s texting you?” he asks, curious.
You nudge him away. “Nosy much? It’s just my mom.”
“Tell her I say hi,” he says, leaning back on his elbows.
You do, and your mom’s quick reply makes you giggle. “Tell Minho he’s still grounded for breaking my favorite vase last year.”
“Mom says you’re still grounded,” you say, showing him the message. He laughs again, this time falling back onto the bed, clutching his stomach.
“Man, your mom’s got a long memory.”
“Yup,” you agree. “So, Mr. Epitome of Self-Control, what’s the plan for today?”
He sits up, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint you know all too well. “Let’s go to the arcade. I bet I can beat your high score on Dance Dance Revolution.”
“You wish!” you exclaim, jumping up. “You couldn’t beat me if your life depended on it.”
As you both head out, the playful banter continues. At the arcade, it’s as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s just you, Minho, and the flashing lights of the game machines. You watch as he concentrates intensely on the dance mat, his tongue sticking out slightly. You can’t help but think he looks kinda cute like that. Not that you’d ever tell him.
“Ha! Beat that!” he shouts, pointing at his score. It’s higher than yours by a mere point. You roll your eyes.
“Beginner’s luck,” you mutter, stepping up to the mat. He watches you, that goofy grin still plastered on his face. You nail the moves, one by one, beating his score by a landslide.
“Told ya,” you say, smugly.
He pouts, crossing his arms. “Okay, okay. You win this time. But next time, you’re going down.”
As you both leave the arcade, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. It’s a casual gesture, something he’s done a thousand times before, but tonight, it feels different. Warmer. More... significant.
“Hey, you hungry?” he asks, steering you towards the diner down the street. It’s your usual spot, a place that holds countless memories. As you slide into your favorite booth, Minho immediately starts teasing the waitress, who’s known you both since you were kids.
“Two milkshakes, please. Extra whipped cream for her because she’s extra,” he says, winking at you.
You stick your tongue out at him. “And fries. Don’t forget the fries.”
When the food arrives, you both dig in, talking about everything and nothing. It’s easy, comfortable. But there’s an undercurrent of something more. Something unspoken.
“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks suddenly, looking at you with those deep, thoughtful eyes.
You pause, a fry halfway to your mouth. “Sometimes. Why?”
He shrugs, looking away. “I dunno. Just wondering what it’ll be like. If we’ll still be... like this.”
“Like what?” you ask, genuinely curious.
He fiddles with his straw, avoiding your gaze. “You know. Best friends. Hanging out all the time.”
“Of course,” you say, nudging his foot under the table. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
He finally looks at you, a soft smile on his lips. “Yeah. You’re right.”
You both finish your food, and as you walk home, the silence between you is comfortable. His hand brushes against yours a few times, and each time, your heart skips a beat.
Back at your house, you sit on the porch, watching the stars. Minho leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, looking up at the sky.
“Thanks for tonight,” he says quietly.
You glance at him, surprised. “For what?”
He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “Just... for being you.”
Your heart flutters, and you find yourself smiling. “Anytime, Minho. Anytime.”
He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment, it’s as if the world stands still. Then he breaks the gaze, looking embarrassed.
“Okay, seriously, I’m not falling in love,” he insists again, more to himself than to you.
You laugh, shaking your head. “Keep telling yourself that, idiot.”
But as you both sit there, the night wrapping around you like a warm blanket, you know the truth. And maybe, just maybe, he does too.
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© deerlino (est. 040624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3
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ashwhowrites · 9 months
Note
Love your older Eddie!
Picturing him working somewhere with a sweet, sunshine-y younger woman. Maybe a restaurant or store? He’s got a crush on her, but she’s always getting hit on by the younger, flashier guys who work there so he never thinks he’d have a chance. To hide his feelings he’s been a standoffish grump, so he can’t believe it when she reveals she has a crush on him at the work holiday party.
Angst/fluff/smut whatever you like - I know anything you write will be amazing! Thank you ❤️
I love older Eddie! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3
Work crush
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Working at a small restaurant that focused more on the younger crowd, wasn't the exact job Eddie pictured for himself. But after his car shop got shut down, he just needed anyway to make cash. In a way, it was like he had to start over.
He didn't enjoy how much older he was than everyone else who worked and dined there. He worked with young twenty-year-olds who needed cash throughout college and served bratty teenagers. Other than the cook, he was the oldest one there.
His older looks and charm got him good tips. Younger girls enjoyed the flirtation and teasing games. Eddie delivered that as much as he did their food.
He hated the younger guys he worked with. They were loud, annoying, and sucked at their job. Eddie had to cover their slack as they snuck out back for smoke breaks. But there was one worker that Eddie secretly adored, Y/N.
She was also young, part of a group of annoying guys. But she was polite, hard-working, and sweet. She brightened the restaurant up whenever she walked in. She made Eddie feel butterflies and he loved watching her happiness rub off on everyone. Many people requested her, she was one of the best. And she was damn beautiful. Which sadly, everyone noticed.
Eddie lost count the many times he overheard her being asked out, by customers and the employees. Eddie couldn't help but compare himself to the guys that asked her out. They were all young and looked like they'd be on the cover of a magazine. Eddie was nothing like that, he didn't stand a chance.
When she turned down Beck, even Eddie was shocked. Beck was the heartthrob of the restaurant, almost every girl signed their number with their receipts. He was tall, and fit, with blue eyes and dirty blonde curly hair. He was sweet and polite, and Eddie hated to admit he was perfect. If perfect Beck couldn't get her to say yes, Eddie knew there was no hope for him.
With that realization, he didn't tease himself with the thought. He kept his space and didn't get to know her. He knew if he learned about her, he'd fall for her even more. It was safer to not know who she was. He just admired her from afar. He smiled to himself when he heard her sweet laugh. And he tried not to punch Beck across the face when he flirted with her his whole shift.
~~~
Tonight was the holiday party and Eddie didn't plan to go. He didn't want to party with a group of kids, he felt too old for that shit. The party was at a bar, and the owner had the dumb idea of everyone wearing Christmas sweaters. Eddie didn't own anything like that and he wasn't going to spend a dime to wear the ugly thing once.
Eddie cleaned up his last few tables, the restaurant closed early for their event. He pocketed the tip, ignoring the lipstick kiss and number written on the receipt.
"Poor girl, she was probably hoping you'd call." Eddie jumped as a voice came from behind him. He quickly turned to see Y/N standing there. A teasing smile on her face.
"I think she'll be fine," Eddie said, scooting into the booth to clean the table. He watched as Y/N took a seat across from him. She silently watched as he worked. Her eyes were on his arms and hands.
"Any numbers for you today?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah, but not interested." She shrugged. She patted the table, a hint for Eddie to sit down. Eddie threw the towel on the table and took a seat. He didn't want to be that rude to her face.
"Never are." He teased, she smirked and moved on.
"Are you going tonight?" Eddie tried not to roll his eyes at the question.
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"Why would I?" He argued back
"It's a work party, you work here and you're invited." She said, pointing out the obvious.
"Nah, it would be like a dad hanging out with college kids. It's embarrassing. And I'm not wearing an ugly Christmas sweater."
"Yeah, but it would be like the hot dad you secretly want around. The kind where you go to your friend's house every weekend just to see her dad shirtless in the morning." Y/N said, a certain look in her eye. A look Eddie got from many of his customers. She was flirting....with him. "I have a bunch of my dad's old Christmas sweaters, I'll bring you one!" She stood up excitedly. Like she declared he's going.
"You think I'm hot?" Eddie asked, he couldn't help a tiny smirk that crossed his face. Everyone flirted with her, and she picked to flirt with him.
"I do and I know you'll look hot in the sweater. See you tonight." Eddie stared at her ass as she walked off.
"I'M NOT GOING!" he yelled after her. He heard her sweet laugh and the bell on the door.
~~~
Eddie groaned as he pulled up to the bar. He was two hours late. Mostly because he was debating if he was going to come or not.
He walked into the bar and scanned the room. He found a few of his coworkers scattered around. A few at the pool table, a few at the bar top, and a few in the back booth. He walked to the bar, at least he got to drink through it.
He held his drink and looked for her. He didn't want to make it obvious, but he knew he didn't care who was there, he came for her.
"EDDIE!"
Eddie turned to see a tipsy Y/N, her hands in the air as she raced into his chest. She crushed him in a hug. Eddie slowly hugged her back.
"I knew you'd come!" She said as she pulled back. She was decked out in Christmas wear. An antler headband, that he'd hate if anyone else wore it. But of course, it looked adorable. Red eyeliner and dark lashes. Her lips were red and Eddie stared at them for too long. Her Christmas sweater was full of printed-on lights. A few real lights that flickered. She had a black skirt, tights and black boots. She was glowing.
"Did you know?" Eddie teased, smiling down at her as she leaned on the bar for support.
"Of course. I knew once you found out I wanted you to come, that you would come. " She explained. She grabbed his hand, slightly tripping on her feet.
"Woah okay. Maybe you should sit." Eddie laughed, he wrapped his arm around her waist.
"No! We gotta go to my car for your sweater!" She argued, she didn't move away from his touch. She loved the feeling of his arm wrapped around her and the way she could smell his cologne. "Just help me." She said and began walking.
After a few stumbles and many laughs, they made it to her car. She unlocked it and grabbed the sweater from the seat. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it. Eddie removed his touch from her as he grabbed the sweater.
"Put it on!" She said she looked so excited and Eddie didn't have the heart to say no. He gagged on the inside but sucked it up.
"I gotta change my shirt so let's go inside." He said but she didn't move.
"don't be silly. Just change here. I'll cover my eyes." She threw her hands over her eyes, a giggly smile on her face. She was somehow even more adorable drunk.
Eddie didn't fight on it. He took off his jacket and placed it on the top of her car. He took a deep breath, preparing for his skin to hit the cold. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt with one hand and yanked it off. He let it drop to the floor as he put his arms in the sweater, as he pulled it on over his head, he heard a small squeak.
He could see Y/N's fingers split open, allowing her to see through. Eddie felt his cheeks warm at the thought of her peeking.
"Did you just squeak?" He asked, trying to hold back a smile.
"No" she mumbled, embarrassed.
"I can see that you're still peeking." Eddie laughed, she groaned and dropped her hands.
"I couldn't help it! You can't be this hot older guy that I want to ruin my life and expect me to just not stare at you." Sober her wished she'd stop talking.
"Ruin your life? That sounds like a bad thing." Eddie said confused.
"It means I have this huge crush on you. I see you flirt with those young girls and I hate that you never did it with me. I hate that everyone flirts with me, and you haven't." She pouted, she crossed her arms as she sighed sadly.
Eddie let out a small smile, moving closer. He lifted her chin with his finger and leaned down.
"I didn't flirt with you because everyone else got shot down. I didn't think I'd be different. But now that you are loose with your lips, I can admit I've been attracted to you since your first day."
Y/N felt her heart skip multiple beats. She couldn't believe the words he said, but the reality of his lips pressed against hers made her believe. She uncrossed her arms and wrapped her arms around him. Her palms were against his back as he deepened the kiss.
She wasn't sure if the alcohol or the kiss made her dizzy.
~~~
"Where the hell is Y/N? She got sat like ten minutes ago!"
"Where is Munson? His table has been waiting for the check for an hour!"
"I think we need to get back to work," Y/N whined, her hands against the door.
Eddie stood behind her, his hands gripping her hips as his cock pounded inside of her. The harder he went the more she cried. She felt her legs go weak as she tried to keep herself up.
"Not until I cum." Eddie grunted.
~~~
"Anything else I can get for you?" Y/N asked the pen smacking against the notepad. She tried not to seem annoyed with the rowdy group of male teenagers.
"You on the menu?" She tried not to roll her eyes. An unpleased look on her face.
"No, but my boyfriend serves up a delicious knuckle sandwich if you want to try it." She said with a glare.
The boy whistled, almost like her attitude made it more fun.
The second she felt the boy's hand touch her thigh, she snapped.
"EDDIE!"
Tags!
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formulaforza · 1 year
Note
💐 hi my wonderful birthday girl !! so i was thinking about a dress coded lewis blurb (because i was born a lewis and ts girl) where they just get drunk together and there’s teases flying and stuff. keep it as brief as u wish <333
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—you can take it off
lewis hamilton x merc!reader summ. thank you stephy i love u bad <3 inspo from... ur never gonna believe it... this. hope it's up to your standards my love. 2.7k (kind of got out of hand)
You were half-asleep and half-drunk the night of the Belgium Grand Prix. The air was cool, recycled like all air seems to be in hotels, smelled of too-strong perfume and was filled with the dull noise of elevator jazz. What had begun as a before-we-go-to-bed night cap in the hotel bar with Bono had turned into a seemingly never ending addition of guests. 
Valtteri was first to join—never could pass up the opportunity to give you shit, to offer you job postings at Alfa Romeo that weren’t job postings at all—and with him around, there’s no casual drinking. You don’t try to keep up, not really, because you know you don’t stand a chance, but also because he would never let you. After all these years of being just a few months younger than him, he still calls you kiddo, still promises to call your parents when you’re out after dark, and always sends you a text after a race with some… questionable strategy decisions you’re catching flack for online. 
A brief appearance from Toto and Susie, just long enough for them to know they had no business trying to go drink for drink with Valtteri, and then they’re wishing all three of you a wonderful summer break and retreating to whatever room is considered prestige enough for Motorsport’s it-couple. 
And then there was Lewis, the last to arrive, who never called you kid, who never viewed you as one. He sits adjacent you in the red, high back leather booth and takes up a seat and a half, the toe of his shoe brushing against the side of yours, flashing you apologetic puppy dog eyes every time he bumps against yours. 
It’s somewhere between drink number five and six that Lewis gets his first, insists on a toast to the summer break that officially began… six hours and fifty-three minutes ago. For a long season this and a too-short summer break that, you lot had a mouthful of things to complain about, but a million more to be grateful for. “To not having work for a month,” Lewis proposes, clinking his glass against yours, offering a quick wink and holding it up properly over the table. 
“To no racing-talk for a few weeks,” Bono adds, clinking his glass against Lewis’. 
“To summer-fucking-break,” Valtteri chimes in, laughing at himself before the rest of you get the chance to match it. 
“To summer fucking break,” you repeat because you know there’s no better way to sum it all up. 
Unlike the other two, you slowed down when Lewis joined, wanted to give him time to catch up, to give yourself time to meet him somewhere in the middle. A glass of water and a virgin rum and coke and another water and the night is still young. 
“First summer break as the big boss, kiddo,” Valtteri remarks, and you have to squint to hear him through the alcohol-induced thickening of his accent. 
“That’s right!” Bono laughs. Your cheeks run hot at their mention of your title, of your promotion following James’ departure earlier in the season. Lewis smiles against the rim of his glass, bumps his foot against yours and doesn’t give you apologetic eyes. No, he raises his brows so slightly you think you’re the only one that notices, which is probably exactly the way he intended it to be. “Little miss queen of strategy is making the big money now, got any big travel plans?”
Lewis clears his throat, and your eyes dart over to his almost instinctively. “You’re staying in London, yeah?”
He’s right. Your summer-break plans consist of four weeks of trying to remember what it feels like to do nothing, failing at that task pathetically, and spending the rest of the time meticulously picking apart every call you’ve made all season and imagining the million and one things you could’ve done differently and their billion and two outcomes. 
You pick apart the drink napkin, tear it into tiny little pieces. “Yeah, yeah. Just staying home, catching up with friends and family,” you clarify, try not to sound as pathetic as you feel. It’s hard not to when you’re sitting next to the guy who spends his offseason snowboarding in Antarctica with his celebrity friends and his weeks off traveling to Paris fashion week for front row seats next to supermodels. Anything you say would sound pathetic to someone who makes thirty-five million a year. 
“I love it,” he nods, stares right through you and into your soul so you know he’s being genuine. “That’s awesome.”
You nod, swallow hard, purposely angle your body away from his, to the rest of the group. “What about you guys?”
Lewis laughs, soft, quiet, completely under his breath. The kind of laugh that deserves to be bottled into a jar and kept on a shelf for safe keeping. You know he’s always laughed like that, even before he knew you, but in the last few months it just feels different. Good different, like he’s laughing just for you now instead of everyone else too. 
You know you’re crazy, that he’s just Lewis being Lewis and you’re just single for the first time in a long time and also drunk. Not half drunk anymore, just drunk—even if you do think you’re meeting him in the middle, you’re not. He’s just chasing after. 
“Back home, too,” Bono concludes. “Take a breather, might head up to the country with the family.”
“You’ll take pictures, yeah?” Lewis asks, starts to pick up the pieces of your napkin tear pile and move them in front of him like a kid who isn’t patient enough to share or destructive enough to rip up his own. You watch in your peripheral, the way he fiddles with the wet paper, gets it stuck to his fingertips. You can’t laugh, so you don’t, but you want to. You think he knows you want to. 
Bono scoffs, nods while swallowing a sip of his drink—something dark, something pungent. Not what you would have pegged him for ordering, even after knowing him as long as you have. “So I can compare with the likes of you lot and,” he turns to Lewis, leers around you to emphasize the eyeline, “your million dollar vacations or,” and then the other way, back to Valtteri, “your olympic cycling events?”
Valtteri smiles, swirls his drink—gin, you think. Expensive. “Yes.”
“No chance.”
“I’ll be sure to send you a picture of me having a meltdown when I think about our side pods from the beginning of the year,” you chime in, because it’s not like they all don’t know you well enough to know exactly what you mean by spending time with friends and family at home.
 “What sidepods?” Lewis chuckles.
“Fucking exactly,” you add, mirror his mannerisms without even realizing it, all the way down to readjusting in your seat when you’ve had your laugh. 
“Could be worse,” Bono offers. “Could be last year.”
Lewis nods, holds his drink up in the direction of Valtteri across the table. “We never should have let you leave.”
He smiles, weak, lips  pursed. “I could have told you that.”
The night continues on, all drinks and laughs and yawns, occasional remarks that it’s about time I head up, followed by another round, another joke, another comment about this, that, or the other thing. 
You’ve always liked Lewis when he’s a little tipsy. He lightens up a bit, you can actually watch the stress drip from him like sweat, all the titles and the wins and the losses, they all just fall away when he’s relaxed like this. You’ve always liked him like this. Always. Before he was king of the world and before he was the prodigal son and every moment in between. 
After every joke he makes—or, after every comment he makes that he thinks could be considered a joke—you find yourself laughing, because it’s Lewis and you have a crush on him and of course you do. And, without fail, everytime you laugh, he winks, like you’re in on some inside joke even though he’s making it to the whole table, like there’s some double meaning to all of his words that are meant just for you, just for the two of you to understand. 
Somewhere in it all, it comes back to Lewis, because, well, it always does. “Is your back still bothering you?” Bono asks, and you think you already know the answer. You think you know, because you can’t remember the last time you;d seen him take careful consideration of his posture when he sits. Not even now is he sitting up straight, with his legs perfectly spread a shoulder’s width apart and his feet flat on the floor. Instead, he’s taking up more room than he needs to, all relaxed and comfortable on the leather booth bench. 
He swipes his thumb over the  condensation of his glass, looking up from the action at you, and then to Bono. “No, no. All good there.”
“All good?” Bono prods, because he was on the receiving end of a year and a half of complaints from Lewis.
Lewis nods, clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “No Paracetamol in a month.”
Across the table, Valterri chimes in. “None?” 
“None for my back,” Lewis says, and the whole table laughs. You just watch him, though, because who laughs better than he does? You could wax poetic about it without a second thought, the way that his lips upturn and his cheeks round and his eyes crinkle and go soft in a way that makes you feel like you’re the funniest person in the world even when you’re not making a joke. The way that his smile is brighter than anyone’s you’ve ever seen, and the way that if you look at it for too long, you think about how it would feel to run your finger along the gap in his teeth. 
“That’s what I thought,” Valtteri mutters off the end of his laugh. “You're getting old.”
“Not too old to make half a million.”
The entire table’s heads fly to him. You gasp, an embarrassingly wide smile on your face. “You didn’t!” You almost yell, smacking his upper arm with a weak hand. 
He mocks your gasp, makes it somehow more dramatic and over the top and laughs sweetly, shrugging your hand off his arm and letting his hand fall to your leg, bumping your foot with his again. “I didn’t.” The table chuckles, you pout, and then you realize that his hand is on your thigh, that it’s staying there quite comfortably, and that you mind it less than he does. 
“Don’t be a tease,” you sigh, take a swig of your drink. Your knees are suddenly weak, like you know you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you wanted to. It’s like he can sense your change but can’t quite read it, because then he’s moving his hand back to his own lap, interlocking it with the other and resting it there.
 He nods, suddenly shy, suddenly guilty. “It’s as good as done.”
Valtteri laughs. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” You hear what he says, but you’re not listening, not really. Lewis stares into you like he wants to look anywhere else—apologetic eyes and a fear he’s taken a misstep. He hasn’t, you want to tell him. You haven’t, put your hand back, please. Silently, you try to convey what shouldn’t dare be spoken. “I’ll believe it when pen is on paper.”
He snaps his eyes away from you, back to Valtteri. You don’t follow suit, stay fixed on him, on trying— hard—to get your message across. “I’m telling you, they’re announcing it after the summer break.”
“Whatever you say, Mate.”
Bono nods around a mouthful of alcohol, sets his half-empty glass down with an incidental thud. “Who’s to say we still want your geriatric ass?”
Lewis raised his interlocked hands from his lap, to the tabletop, resting his elbows on the wood grain and rattling the empty glasses when he does it. He leans in towards the center of the table, even though the only person separating him and Bono is you. “Would you tell Schumacher ‘no?’”
“What was that?” You ask, your words a convenient excuse to lean in closer, to settle into a spot that much closer to him without raising any brows. To brace for the shift, you leave your hand on his thigh with less subtly than your original movement, but it’s okay. It’s okay—only Lewis knows where your hands are, and you don’t want it to be subtle, don’t want anything to be lost in translation. “I can’t hear you over your ego,” you smile, and your fingers dance up his leg just a few, careful inches. 
He drops back into his seat, drops his hands back into his lap. Under the table, he grabs yours and laughs, but it’s stifled, stunted, not quite relaxed. “Very funny,” he humors, and moves your hand back. His stays too, though, and he crosses one leg over the other under the table. His thumb moves over the fabric of your slacks in shudder-worthy circles. 
“Someone’s gotta check you,” you smile, nod in the direction of your tablemates without ever looking away from him. “These two won’t.”
Bono scoffs.“Are you kidding?”
Your smile grows. “How do you want me to answer that, Peter?”
“Damn,” Lewis laughs so hard he coughs. “She Peter-ed you. That’s cold.”
“You’re the one comparing yourself to Michael fucking Schumacher,” Bono scolds. 
“I didn’t say that, but,”
“But!” You interject. 
“But,” Lewis laughs, threatens to continue even though all at the table know he won’t, knows that no matter how often the media and the girlfriends and the friends and the family tell him he should put himself up there with the greatest, he’ll never quite see himself in the same light. “But it’s about time I head up, I think.”
“Ah, see,” Valtteri chuckles. “Old man Hamilton can’t hang.”
“No, he can not,” Lewis remarks, pulling his phone and his hotel keycard from his pocket, setting the latter on the table and if you were feeling a little crazier than you are, you’d swear he nudges it ever so slightly out of his bubble and into yours. He types away rapidly at his phone, and you try to pay attention to the jokes Bono and Valtteri throw around, the pokes at Lewis they make, but suddenly you’re feeling like it’s a good time to head up, too. You try to shake the crazy, to leave it with your backwash in the final sip of your drink, and you do. You do.
You do, but then he’s slipping his phone back into his pocket. He’s leaving his glass just beyond his keycard and telling you to feel free to finish it. He’s saying his goodbyes while he moves out of the booth and his hotel room key is still sat on the table next to you. It stares at you—the hard, thin plastic. Stares at you in its white paper pocket with the intricate printing of the hotel label and dares you to look at him when he walks away. 
You do, begrudgingly, subtly, and his eyes are already on yours. They’re expressionless, and yet, say so fucking much. You hold the remainder of his drink in his direction before downing it in a single gulp and then he winks at you. He looks at his keycard on the table, and then to you, and then he winks, and you’re sure you’re absolutely crazy. 
You swallow. 
“Oh, fuck,” Bono says, reaches over you to grab the keycard from the table. It’s like you were zoned out and he snapped in front of your face, the way it pulls you from Lewis to the table. “He forgot his key.”
“Oh,” you squeak, and then louder, “I can take it to him.”
“No, no, It’s okay,” Bono says, and he makes you stand up to get out of the booth. “I should be heading up anyway.”
“Really,” you half-insist, trying to convince him you can handle it without letting him in on why you’re convincing him. “It’s no problem.”
Bono pulls out his wallet, flips through the pockets of it and fiddles with his bills. “Our rooms are right by each other,” he insists, tosses his share onto the table. “I got it.”
“Okay,” you nod, accept your defeat. “Yeah, I should be heading up, too, I guess.”
964 notes · View notes
yazmarina · 1 month
Text
super trouper
for hit play, a drabble event.
—"part of a success that never ends, still i'm thinking about you only " (super trouper by abba)
charles leclerc (f1) x afab!reader
warnings/notes: exes to ?, hint of second chance romance
a/n: short and sweet on my return. i hope all the charles girlies and non-girlies like this <3
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You really shouldn't be here. You had no reason to turn up at this race weekend, save for the fact that your friend was also going and she urged you to go for her sake.
Right. You're doing this for her. No one else. Certainly not for the hometown hero.
His face is everywhere and so are the eyes that seem to gape at you. People's eyes follow you with curiosity, double takes and soft gasps when they realize who you are.
It takes all your self-control not to roll your eyes under the heat of their stares. Are they not aware that I live literally a bus ride away? I spend half of my time in Monaco, anyway. Why is everyone freaked out that I'm here?
You can already read the gossip headlines in your mind.
"Do you want to grab some lunch first?" Your friend asks, gesturing to the huge hospitality building that overlooked the pitlane.
You nod, wanting nothing more than to be indoors and away from prying eyes. "Sure."
The two of you make your way inside and you're relieved to see that people are sparse here, not a single one of them giving you any mind. You settle in a booth at the very end of the floor, letting your friend have a go first at the buffet of food laid out.
You idle with your phone for a bit, already seeing your inbox count tick upward. You've been here for an hour and it seems as if the whole paddock has already seen you.
You lock your phone in frustration.
You really shouldn't have come. Not when the breakup barely six months ago was shrouded in so much speculation and drama. It's not as if your relationship with Charles exploded into a world-stopping mess. It just slowly but surely crumbled, all the gossip chipping away at the love you once shared. You know all this was part of it—the dedicated pages to scrutinizing you, your looks, your behavior, the news about you and your ex still coming out half a year after you split, the constant barrage of questions about Charles, Charles, always about Charles.
But it was indeed always about Charles.
Even you being here, in Monte Carlo today, was about him.
You promised you'd see him race at home when you were still together. It wasn't your fault the relationship would be that short-lived.
But, still. You promised.
You unlock your phone once more, opening up the message thread you had with Charles. The last text was from him, asking if you'd be in France this week. You never answered back.
'Hi Charles.'
You cringe at the formality but with a deep breath, you continue to type.
'Yes, I'm still here. I'll be watching today with a friend. Wishing you all the luck :)'
-
The grip you had on your seat could have been enough to crush someone's hand.
The wide-screen TV in hospitality flashed the bright red Ferrari of your ex-boyfriend, leading the race, five laps away from victory. A victory at his home race, with his dream team, his people cheering him on.
Your heart hammers against your chest and you feel rigid all over, nerves and anticipation taking ahold of you. Your friend looks over and you meet her eyes, and you know at that moment what she's thinking. She smiles, reaching for your hand, and squeezes.
Regardless of what became of you and Charles, it's hard not to feel as if this was your dream too. All the late nights and missed dates and the pain and scrutiny were for this. For him to achieve this very dream.
You feel tears start to well in your eyes as Charles enters his final lap. The people around you are already jumping out of their seats, egging him on, closer and closer to the chequered flag.
As Charles drives past the finish line, the whole world seems to erupt in cheers but it's all tuned out as your tears start to finally fall. You don't notice the gentle shake of your shoulders as hundreds of emotions crash down on you.
You let your friend pull you into a hug, hiding your tear-streaked face from the world.
The podium celebrations right after didn't help much with your attempt at keeping a casual, level-headed facade. Your nose is stuffy and you haven't stopped crying since the race ended. The slow recognition from the people around you isn't lost on you, either.
But it's hard to care when Charles stands on the top step of the podium, beaming as his national anthem blares. It's more difficult yet, fighting the urge to run to wherever he is just so you could jump into his arms and tell him how proud of him you are, how much you miss him, how much you still love him.
Instead, you turn to your friend, hicupping through your tears as you ask if they can come with you back to the paddock.
-
"You're here."
You smile sheepishly as Charles stops just as he's about to enter the Ferrari motorhome. The calls of his name and murmur from the fans around you tailing him through the paddock are drowned out, your whole body seemingly rooted in place as the familiar green eyes look into yours.
"Yes," you respond plainly, suddenly at a loss for words. Clearing your throat, you step closer and Charles automatically opens his arms for a hug.
"Congratulations, Cha," you say, voice muffled into his shoulder as he pulls you against his chest.
"Thank you." Charles beams at you as he pulls away. The smell of champagne is still strong on him but you pay it no mind, wanting nothing more than for everyone to disappear so you could share even a fraction of a moment with him. Just him.
"Did you cry, mon cœur?" Charles asks, looking at you closely. Your jaw drops open at his use of your old pet name and he, too, pauses and blinks as he realizes what he's done.
Charles laughs, a hint of nervousness in his voice, and you can't help but giggle along. It's awkward and it's not ideal, but being this close to him brings a certain ache in your heart, more sweet than painful.
"I'll see you later, okay?" Charles declares, gently taking hold of your arm. "Promise. I'll see you."
You nod, smiling up at him. Tears prickle in your eyes again and you quickly blink them away, mortified at what everyone would think about you crying in front of your ex after his home race win.
Charles leans in and delivers a peck on your cheek, quickly rubbing your back before turning to finally enter the motorhome. He gives you one last wave before disappearing behind the glass doors.
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blackhairandbangs · 9 months
Text
That's What Friends Are For
Seo Changbin x Reader
info/masterlist
word count: 2.8K
genre: smut smut!! but its a little fluffy in the beginning
summary: you head to the studio to return bestfriend!changbin's hoodie and end up talking a bit about your friendship
warnings: smut! minors DNI, oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (don’t do it!) maybe a little choking? Reader is called “baby”, “baby girl”, and “bunny” Let me know if I’m missing anything!
a/n: this is currently unedited... i was too excited to post this and haven't given it a second look-through yet.
reblogs are MORE than appreciated &lt;3
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You and Changbin had been friends for years. Chan had introduced the two of you just pre-debut and you both had been inseparable since. From late nights over at his dorm, to early mornings at the studio, he just seemed to get you in a way you others didn’t.
Him and Chan were spending another evening in the studio, finishing up songs for the next comeback. The booming of bass flooded out as you opened the soundproof door. 
“Hey,” you started to speak, giving the boy a small wave. “Hope I’m not interrupting, Binnie, you left your hoodie at my place last night and I know how cold the studio can get so I figured I would come run it by.” You saw the blush fall on his cheeks as you walked over to where he sat at the mixing table to hand him his tan hoodie. Truthfully, you had planned on stealing the hoodie, wearing it around the house, but you two were just friends and that didn’t seem like the appropriate “friend” action. A good friend would wash the hoodie, fold it up nice, and bring it to the owner’s place of employment, right?
“Oh my goodness, you are so thoughtful, thank you!” He takes the hoodie, slipping it over his broad shoulders. “Come have a seat! I was just finishing up this new mix before Chan gets back.” You nod your head, happy to have a chance to hang out with your friend. You loved watching him work. Something about the way his eyebrows furrowed when he was deep in thought, the way his hair would get ruffled underneath the booth headphones, the way he would bite his lip trying to get the audio effects just right, the way he… But all of the things you noticed couldn’t be anything more than platonic… You just loved to see your friend passionate about the things he enjoys and is good at. All friends love to see that!
“Do you want to hear a bit?” Changbin asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You whip your head to look at him, taking the headphones he held out in his hands. 
You give him a sincere smile, “I would love to.”
He leans over the table, pressing a few buttons before leaning back in his chair to get a clear view of your reactions. You get engulfed by the sound, taping your hand on your leg as the beat carries. 
“Oh my God, Binnie, this is amazing!” You say, removing the headphones as the cut comes to an end. “My best friend has to be the most talented person in the world.”
Changbin gives a shy laugh at your praise. He is so grateful you enjoy his work, but the word “friend” hits him in his heart every time you say it. “I’m glad you like it,” He tries to hide his disappointment with a smile, just happy to have you here with him, even if it’s not in the way he wants.
“How has everything been going for you today?” he continues. You two saw each other the night before but were used to talking multiple times a day. However, his studio schedule left him with no free time to do so all day. 
“Oh you know, the usual,” You start. You look down at your lap, twiddling your thumbs a bit. “Just another failed date, I really need to get off these apps.” You give a small chuckle, hoping to move on from the topic. You had met a really nice guy through one of the many dating apps on your phone and had planned to meet for coffee earlier in the day. You waited at the shop for an hour before realizing he was not planning on showing up and went home where you threw yourself on the couch until you could muster the strength to get up and bring Changbin his hoodie. 
“I told you, you need to try meeting people in different ways!” He laughs. This was a conversation you two had often. You would constantly complain about all of your failed dating app dates. The dates you went on to clear your mind of the crush you had on your best friend. Your best friend would then suggest you meet people in person rather than on your phone. “Maybe you can find dates through hobbies, or maybe your friends?”
You give a small laugh before leaning closer to him. “You know, thats not a bad idea…have any friends I can date?” The question wasn’t serious, just a little joke to get a reaction out of him. You knew you didn’t want any of his friends, just him. 
Changbin laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Well, there’s me-” he starts before realizing what he was saying, “and Chan, of course.” His original comment was muffled and flew right over your head. “But, I don’t think you want to date Chan, hes practically married to that sound booth,” he says, gesturing to the open booth in front of the desk you two sat at. 
“Hmm… I don’t know, Chan is pretty cute���” You tease, avoiding eye contact with Changbin. What were you doing? Sure, Chan was good looking, but definitely not who you have been pining after. Actually, the guy you were into was sitting right next to you and you just told him you found his friend cute!
“Oh come on, I am not allowing you to date Chan,” Changbin says, playfully hitting your arm. 
“Ow!” you laugh, rubbing where he hit, even though it wasn’t even close to actually being in pain. “I’m only joking, Binnie.” You take the opportunity to lean your head on his shoulder, the contact making your ears hot. “Besides, I’d choose you over Chan any day.”
Changbin moves his shoulder so you pull your head up to look at him. He gives a small smirk, “Oh, really? Hm, well you know I’d have to think about that,” he says to tease you. He wasn’t sure where this confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he was having a hard time keeping his feelings in tonight. He lets himself come back to the moment, remembering who you are. “You’re quite interesting, but our friendship will always come first,” he says, hoping you couldn't read the sadness in his eyes. 
“Right,” you speak quickly, looking away, leaning back to your chair. The space between you grew back to what it should have been. “And we are really good friends.”
“Yes we are, and I am so happy about it,” He gives a fake smile and places his hand on your knee. “You’re really special to me…” his voice trails of as he sees the blush growing across your face. He rolls his chair closer to you reaching his other hand out to gently cup your cheek. 
“I might have been teasing you earlier about Chan, but I mean it when I say you’re special to me. I..I like you, you know?” 
Your blush goes deeper, feeling his warm hand on your face. Sure, you two had spent many nights cuddles up watching a movie, but something about this contact felt different. It felt intimate. 
“Binnie, please don’t play with me like this…” You look down, not wanting to show the disappointment in your eyes. “You like me as a friend, right?
Changbin turns his head the other way, pulling himself away from you. “Yeah,” he nods, “As a friend, I promise. I’m just messing with you,” he says, trying to cover his tracks, hoping none of this is making you uncomfortable. “Friends do that, right?” He asks, turning his attention back to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder pulling you into almost a sort of side hug. 
You give a small laugh, “Yeah, totally! Friends can do a lot of things.”
He releases his arm from you, meeting your eyes. “And what kind of things can friends do?” 
You look down once again to hide the color of your cheeks, which you are almost certain are about as red as a tomato at this point. “Oh you know…” you trail off, trying to think of an answer. “Friends can cuddle, and…” you don’t allow yourself to finish the thought, feeling the tension sitting in the air. 
Changbin leans in, placing a small kiss on the top of your head, sending a shiver straight down your spine. “Well then, friend,” he says, placing an emphasis on that last word, “How about we cuddle for a bit? I could use a break from this song.” He pats his lap, motioning for you to come over. Without hesitation, you are straddling his lap, head resting in the crook of his neck. 
He smiles softly, feeling your warmth against him. “Good friends,” he sighs, reaching a hand to stroke your hair. “I’d say we make quite the comfortable pair.” 
None of this was feeling real to you, you had to bring yourself back to reality. You lift your head from his shoulder, “How much is left to finish on the song?”
He gives a small chuckle, feeling your breath on his neck. “Oh not much, actually. We’re almost done, just a few more lines,” he starts to rock you gently, feeling your hearts beat in sync.
“That’s good,” you reply, looking up and leaning close to him. “Binnie, just out of curiosity, is there anything else you think close friends could do?” You run a hand through his hair, loosing control of your brain. The words came out without a thought.
Changbin’s heart races slightly over the close proximity and your question. 
“Well, good friends can share secrets, and support each other…” he trails off feeling the warm breath of your lips above his. “But were just friends, remember”
You look him up and down, “Binnie, if we’re just friends, why can I practically feel your heart jumping out of your chest right now?” You let yourself be bold, knowing you need him in ways he will never understand. 
He swallows hard, unable to meet your eyes. “Friends…um friends…do that…we’re um…just really good…” He struggles to get the words out, reaching out to touch the side of your face. 
You decide to just go for it, letting all rationality leave your brain. Your hand comes up to grab his chin, turning his head to look at you. “Now, as a good friend, does this do anything to you?” you ask, practically feeling the heat of his cheeks radiating into the air. 
His breath hitches, your faces inches apart. “Well, um… a good friend might be curious about the feelings of another close friend.”
“I think this good friend has maybe had strong feelings for the other good friend, bit was too scared to ruin anything.” His heart races even more, wanting nothing more than to say the words he has been waiting to say for years now. 
“A good friend might have those sorts of feelings too…maybe..” You cut him off before he could finish, finally bringing your faces together, letting yourself lean into the kiss, your arms snaking around his neck. 
Changbin moans softly into the kiss, gripping your hips as he  leans back in the chair, allowing himself to be pinned against it by your weight. He pulls away momentarily, looking you up and down.
“Your lips, feel so soft against mine, I’ve always wanted to taste them.” A shiver sends through your body, feeling his grip tighten on your hips, leaning in to take more of his lips in yours. 
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
Changbin’s tongue sweeps against your lips gently, begging for entry as he deepens the kiss. He is completely lost in the moment, his mind blanketed by the desire to have all of you.
Your lips part, allowing him access inside. A small moan leaves your throat as the kiss intensifies. You pull away for air, your mouth still lingering close.
“Baby, when was Chan supposed to get back?”
“Not for another hour at least,” he starts, peppering your neck with kisses as you through your head back. “He had some things to take care of.”
“Perfect,” you lean in to take him into another string kiss, this one feeling different. It lingered with lust and need. 
He pulls your hips closer, his tongue gliding against yours. A small whimper escapes the back of his throat as his hands travel up and down your back. You grind softly against him, feeling his hard grow underneath you.
“Fuck, yes…” he moans, kissing every part of your lips, down to your jawline and neck. He growls low in his throat as his hand moves down to grab your ass. “Tell me what you want, baby”
You moan, continuing to grind your hips, wanting to feel more. “Anything please, I just want you.” 
He takes this as an invite to stand up. You allow your legs to wrap around his waist as he carries you to lean against the back wall. 
“Binnie,” you whimper, feeling the contact of your head against the wall. 
“Fuck, that name,” Changbin breaths out, his hands exploring every inch of you. He tugs on the hem of your shirt and you lift your arms, allowing him to take it off in one swift motion. 
“You are so fucking sexy like this. All needy for me,” He starts to speak, lowering himself to his knees as his hands grip your thighs.
“Binnie, please” you moan out, desperate for his touch. He takes this as an invitation to swiftly remove your pants, leaving you in nothing but a bra and panties.
“Let Binnie make you feel good, baby” He says, brushing against your sensitive folds, pushing your underwear aside to leave kisses on your clit. He licks a stripe down you before inserting a finger inside of you, thrusting with precision. 
Your head hits the wall as you moan. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?” Your words come out as jumbles as he continues to please you.
“Come on, baby. I’m not stopping until you cum all over my fingers,” Changbin murmurs, picking up the pace of his fingers inside you, working you up to the edge.
Your hands reach down to grip his hair, feeling more pleasure than you’ve ever felt before. 
“Go ahead, cum for me baby. Let it all go,” he whispers against your clit, sending your legs shaking above him. He feels your walls clench around his fingers and presses his mouth against your clit one last time before standing up and sucking everything off his fingers. His breathing is ragged as he watches you come down from your high.
“Fuck, youre incredible, bunny.” You pull him into a needy kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips. Changbin hums into the kiss, running up and down your back as he holds you close, “I could do this all night.”
“Please,” you whine, “Binnie, I need you to fill me up.” He laughs, picking you up and throwing you down on the couch that lays in the back corner of the studio. Changbin gets on top of you, leaning down for his tongue to invade your mouth once more. Your hands reach down to tug on the waist band of his sweatpants, pulling them and his boxers down. 
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, pulling away from the kiss slowly. You nod your head, looking at him, the hunger in his eyes making you flutter. He takes his cock in his hands lining up with your entrance before pushing himself in slowly.
“Tell me when I can move, baby”
“Please, Binnie, I need you,” You whimper, needing to feel him take all of you. With a hum, he starts a steady pace, hitting every spot inside of you. You throw your head back in pleasure, moaning out his name, his cock hitting places you never even knew about.
“I’m not gonna last much longer, you feel so good,” He whines, reaching a hand up to snake around your neck, squeezing gently. “Come on baby, cum for me, you can do it.” 
You feel your stomach tighten as you reach your high, trying to use your hand to muffle your screams, remembering where you two were. You clench around him as his body shudders in pleasure as his seed fills you up completely. He reaches down, planting kisses down your neck, not yet pulling out from inside of you.
You speak out, breathless between kisses, “You should probably finish that song before Chan gets back…”
“Mhm..,” he hums, pulling out and sitting up on the couch, his breathing finally stable. “Come here, baby girl,” he says as he pulls you up into his arms, nuzzling his nose against your hair. “You’re amazing.”
Your head falls in the crook of his neck, taking in everything that just happened.
“I take it we’re not good friends anymore, huh?” you ask, giving him a small laugh and placing a kiss on his cheek. 
He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before returning a giggle to your question. “Definitely not,” His voice is soft as he leans your foreheads together. “You're mine now, and I promise I’m never letting you go.”
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A/N: there ya go! this was my first time writing smut in years so I do hope this turned out okay! my requests and asks are open if anyone wanted to pop some hot takes, suggestions, comments or anything else you may want to say. Thank you for coming along with me as I finally return from my 3 year long fanfic hiatus. Happy Holidays guys!
455 notes · View notes
spideystevie · 2 months
Text
bad for business
summary: steve’s good for your heart but he’s really bad for business word count: 4.5k a/n: me every time i post after being mia for months: who’s missed me! this was technically supposed to be inspired by bad for business by sabrina carpenter and then suddenly it wasn’t. not even sure there’s much of a plot but alas! also feel a little rusty at this right now, it’s been a while since i’ve really written anything but i’ve missed steve a crazy insane amount. love you, miss you, hope you all enjoy this <3
You’re late. You’re never late. 
The bell above the door to Dottie’s jingles as you hurry inside. Your fingers work on muscle memory to tie your apron around your waist as you slide through the mismatched seating arrangements inside the diner to get to the back office. 
You’re not sure if the way your stomach flips is from it being full of a single gulp of coffee or because it’s more than an hour past when you should’ve been here. The time punch on your card reads 9:07 am and your stomach lurches. Definitely not the coffee. 
It’s a Sunday, arguably your busiest day in the diner and arguably the worst day for you to show up like this. No doubt Dottie has noticed but you’re hoping against hope that she didn’t. God, what are you going to tell her?
Sorry Dottie! My super hot, super charming boyfriend wouldn’t let me out of bed this morning! Won’t happen again! 
Your face feels warm, like you’ve just spent an extensive amount of time in the sun in the middle of July. You knew you shouldn’t have stayed over last night, but you were so tired and Steve’s couch is way more comfier than yours. It really doesn’t help that his bed isn’t any different. 
“Lots of traffic this morning?” you jump, notepad falling out of your hand. Susan starts to snicker as you drop down to pick it up. There’s a smirk on her face when you rise to full height. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her name tag is crooked on her apron. You’re not sure you’d consider Susan one of your closest friends but you find yourselves pulled together considering she’s the only other young person working here. 
“Oh you know…,” your voice rises in pitch and you clear your throat, hitching one shoulder up to your ear in a shrug. “Sometimes you just hit every red.”
Susan’s eyes narrow. There’s only one working light on your usual route to work. Coming from Steve’s adds only two. Not to mention, you didn’t drive yourself today. Steve dropped you off, promising to pick you up at 4 on the dot when your shift ended. Susan pops her gum in her mouth, not convinced with your fib.
“Right.”
“Yeah. Now if you’ll excuse me, Cliff is waiting for me in his usual booth,” you hurry past before she can ask you anything incriminatory. You hear Dottie before you see her, on your way to grab the coffee pot. 
“You feeling okay, sweetie? You’re normally here right on the dot. An hour isn’t like you.”
Dottie’s older than most and she’s been running the diner outside Hawkins for a whopping 30 years now. She hangs out behind the counter and loves to chat with the regulars and get to know those just passing through. With rosy cheeks and gray streaked hair almost always pulled out of her face in a bun, she’s almost like another mom with how long you’ve been working here. 
You snag the excuse she basically throws you out of the air. 
“Had a bit of a rough night, but I’m feeling a lot better now, Dot. Didn’t realize I had overslept until I heard the birds chirping outside. It won’t happen again,” you say. 
You didn’t oversleep actually. Whatever natural circadian clock inside of you wakes you up at almost the same time every workday but Steve can be quite convincing when he wants to be. Your heart does a little sigh of his name. Steve. You swallow and try to blink away the image of him.
Dottie gives you a sympathetic smile with a concerned tilt of the head, taking your flustered mannerisms and the way you wipe your palms against the sides of your jeans as lingering symptoms of whatever she thinks ailed you last night. She squeezes your bicep, the press of her mixed metal rings cool against your skin.
“Take it easy today, okay? You let me know if you need anything.”
“Course, Dottie. Thank you,” you give her a smile and grab the coffee pot. 
Cliff sits at the same spot every morning. A little booth along the window wall, three down from the door to the diner. He looks a bit rough around the edges, his coat well loved and worn and his hands weathered from years of hard work. He’s worn the same baseball cap every time you’ve seen him and he’s always got a copy of the morning paper open and propped in front of his face. 
He spots you out of the corner of his eye and scoots his empty mug closer to the table’s edge. You smile and pour the coffee, leaving enough room for his two packets of Sweet ‘n’ Low to be stirred in. 
“Anything new this morning, Cliff?” 
You’ve only known Cliff on his own, but you know he used to come with his late wife Winnie for coffee every morning before she passed. He’d summarize the big news and events and she’d do the crosswords on the back. Now, you let him summarize to you and he leaves the paper on the table for you. You do the crosswords on your break. 
“Same old, same old. They’re thinking about rebuilding the mall that burned down in Hawkins a few summers ago. You hear anything about that?” He sets the paper down to the right of his coffee mug and grabs two pink packets of sweetener. You watch him tear the paper and pour them in. When he looks at you, you shake your head. 
“First time I’m hearing of it. My boyfriend used to work there before it…you know,” you mention, unable to stop the morsel of information from slipping out. A twinkle sparks in Cliff’s eye, a small smile on his face as he diverts his attention back to his mug. The spoon he’s stirring with clinks against the coffee stained ceramic walls. 
“Are you ever gonna bring this boyfriend of yours around here so I can actually see that he’s real?” He’s teasing, tapping the handle of the spoon against the rim of the mug and setting it in the gap between the coffee and the newspaper. You roll your eyes but a smile lifts your cheeks. 
“I don’t know if that’d be too good for business around here,” you joke. 
“And was he the reason you were late giving me my coffee this morning?” He's quick to cover his smirk with the coffee mug as he takes a sip. Your mouth falls agape and you fluster, shaking your head and laughing shakily. 
“Ha ha, very funny, Cliff. No, he was not. There was traffic!” Cliff makes a face at this and you don’t blame him. Has the traffic excuse ever worked for living in a small town, you wonder. “And I had a rough night and accidentally overslept, is all.”
He grabs his morning paper again and opens it up. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
The rest of the morning starts to fly by in a blur. You recite your favorites off the menu to a couple passing through from Chicago. Refill Cliff’s coffee twice, each time dodging whatever he tries to insinuate about your tardiness this morning. Sneak an extra pancake onto little Sofie’s plate with a wink. The early morning breakfast rush blows through and things start to quiet down. 
You’re wiping down the table adjacent to Cliff’s booth. His mug is empty and he’s left the paper for you like usual. The bell rings as he opens the door to leave. 
“See you tomorrow, Cliff!” you call after him and he raises a hand in a wave as he walks through the door, thanking the young man that holds it for him. 
You have to do a double take as you swipe the paper off the table. It’s not just any young man in passing holding the door, no it’s Steve coming inside Dottie’s. It’s Steve standing at the entrance in his usual Levi’s and a white tee with sleeves that seem to strain around his biceps with windswept hair and a bright smile when he sees you. 
There goes your heart again with the sigh of his name. Steve. Though maybe this time you think it was your voice instead, airy and soft. You can’t believe he’s here. It’s nowhere near 4’o’clock. You’re aware of Dottie’s eyes on you behind the counter and Susan’s from across the diner and nearly every regular scattered about as well. 
Your knees wobble at the sight of him, the disbelief fading away and giddy smile falling into place as he meets you next to Cliff’s booth. Cliff, who’s standing outside the diner and staring and you worry he might come back inside to hound you and insist you introduce him, but he doesn’t. 
Steve wraps an arm around your waist, fingers hot against the side of your stomach through the layers of your apron and shirt, and dips to press a kiss to your cheek in greeting. There’s a rush of a swoon that goes down to your toes, the bulk of it getting stuck in your abdomen and swirling like crazy.
You’re in the middle of a greasy old diner but Steve’s somehow tucked you away from prying eyes and into your own little safety bubble. He’ll be the death of you one day. Your heart’ll just keep expanding until it can’t fit inside your ribcage anymore and has no choice but to explode from adoration and kill you. 
“What are you doing here?” you wonder aloud, eyes scanning all around his face, taking in every freckle and crinkle and mole. You pause for a minute on his lips and then you blink and find his eyes. He’s smiling at you, in a way that tells you he caught that and you feel struck by that feeling of being caught in the July sun again. He looks around the diner and everyone’s attention goes back to what they were doing before.
“Thought I’d surprise you! Also, it’s supposed to rain later and you didn’t take a jacket so I brought you one.”
Only then do you notice the gray fabric in his other hand and your heart twists and flips and oh god, you think this might be the moment it explodes. He presses it into your hands, the newspaper crinkling against it. 
“What’s that?” he asks as you go to thank him. Your brow cinches for a minute before it smooths in comprehension.
“Oh! Cliff,” you point towards the door he’d just walked through, “one of the regulars, leaves the paper behind for me every morning so I can do the crosswords. A little tradition we’ve got going on.”
“A tradition? Should I be concerned?” He jokes and you laugh. 
“Oh, definitely. Cliff’s your biggest competition,” you throw back and now it’s his turn to laugh. A glittering light fills your chest. You glance over to where Dottie is engaged in conversation with a middle aged woman just passing through. She can’t hear you from this far but you drop your voice nonetheless. “No but, he did give me a bit of a hard time about his coffee being almost an hour late this morning.”
At your pointed look and sly smile, Steve winces, fingers pressing a quick squeeze against your side. An embarrassed blush blooms on his cheeks, bridging across his nose. “Right. Sorry.”
“Forgiven,” you lean up to press the quickest flash of a kiss to his cheek. You wrap your arms around the newspaper and jacket, holding them to your chest. “Do you wanna sit for a minute? I can get you some coffee? Although be warned, Dottie might come up and talk to you.”
His arm drops from around your waist and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, coffee sounds great.”
You smile and motion him into Cliff’s booth. When he sits, he insists on holding onto the jacket and newspaper for you and you let him. He watches you take Cliff’s mug away and walk to Dottie behind the counter to get him a fresh one.
Dottie bumps her hip with yours as you pass and you give her a look. The pot’s nearly empty and you wait the few minutes it takes for it to fill, eyes catching on Steve while you wait. He’s stopped staring and has instead taken interest in the comics in the paper. 
“He’s handsome,” Dottie’s voice snaps you back into your senses. You glance at her and she’s got a special look in her eyes to match the smile on her face. You check the coffee pot that’s filling up quicker than normal. But your focus drifts back over to Steve, who senses your gaze and looks over to you and flashes a big grin. 
“Yeah,” you sigh, “he is.”
Dottie looks between the two of you and then takes a look around the diner. It’s not the usual Sunday hustle and bustle, post early breakfast rush and the impending rain could be the indicator for that. She's got Susan and Judy’ll be coming in any minute now and Pam right after at 12. When she looks back at you, you’re watching the last few drops of coffee fall into the pot. 
“Take the rest of the day,” Dottie says. Your eyes snap up to meet hers over the coffee pot between you.
“What?”
“Go sit and have coffee with that boy of yours and then go home,” it doesn’t sound like a suggestion, more like an order but you look around the diner and hesitate. 
“Dottie, it's Sunday. I can’t just leave this early on our busiest day of the week.”
“There’ll be other Sundays busier than this one. And you need your rest after the night you had. We’ll be okay, now go,” she pushes. You bite back a smile as you relent, kissing Dottie on the cheek as you pass with the full coffee pot and two mugs gripped tightly in your other hand. She shakes her head watching you cross back to the third booth from the door. 
Steve lights up when you enter his line of sight but his brow furrows at the two mugs held in your left hand. You set them on the table and fill them both with the fresh coffee before setting the pot down on the table. He watches you slide into the empty spot in front of him. The same place you assume Winnie occupied when she’d come here with Cliff. 
“Dottie’s letting me off early,” you say, grabbing an almost obscene amount of Sweet ‘n’ Low packets and dumping them into your mug. “Can you hand me a creamer?”
Steve finds himself staring at you, doctoring your diner coffee to how you like it, hearts for eyes and a wistful smile taking permanent residency on his face. When he doesn’t hand you the creamer right away, you look up, only a little confused but mostly amused at the blatant and overwhelming display of admiration across his features. 
“Steve?”
He blinks in quick succession and clumsily reaches for a creamer while you giggle and god, it’s killing him that he hasn’t kissed you right yet since he’s been here. You hold out your hand and he sets the mini pod on your palm, your fingers brushing his as they enclose around it with a thank you. 
He watches you finish stirring in the creamer, the coffee in your cup now a light shade of brown. You take a sip, both palms wrapped around the mug and your eyes on his when you set it down on the table. 
“You look nice,” you say, eyes dropping down to the simple white tee he’s wearing. When you look back up at his face, his smile is cheeky and his cheeks are flushed. It takes an incredible amount of self restraint not to kiss him across the table.
“Yeah? The plain white tee is really doing it for you?” he leans closer over the table, voice dropped just the slightest bit. You mirror his movement almost like there’s a magnet pulling the two of you together. Steve pulls one of your hands into his, weaving your fingers together across the table. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” there’s a flirtatious thrum in your voice that makes Steve grin. His mouth opens to respond, another silly flirty quip back when Dottie appears at the side of the table. 
“You kids want anything to eat?” 
The sound of her voice sends Steve jumping back against his seat, like he’s 15 and getting caught doing something he shouldn’t be. You lean back slowly, amusement clear on your face and a question in your eyes. Do you?
Steve looks from you and up to Dottie who watches with a knowing gleam in her eye. He starts to shake his head but then his eyes fall back to you and he’s repeating the question to you with his eyes. You consider it for a second and then shake your head slightly which Steve repeats to Dottie.
“No, we’re alright, thanks,” he says and Dottie nods. She grabs the coffee pot but doesn’t move. 
“Heard a lot about you…” she trails off and Steve’s eyes widen just a tad. 
“Oh! Steve. Harrington. Steve Harrington,” he fills in the blank for her, even reaching out his hand for her to shake. 
“Dottie. She talks a lot about you, Steve. Sometimes I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it.”
You try to cover your face with your one free hand and groan, “Dottie.”
Steve lets out a small laugh and squeezes your hand, always finding it endearing to see you flustered. You slowly move your hand away, to which Steve gives you a quick wink which only makes you want to hide away again like you’re 16 with a crush. 
Dottie pulls him into an easy conversation. How is Hawkins? Where’d you both meet? And: Do you have a job? I expect only the best for my girl here, you know. And: you’ll have to come back and have something more than just coffee next time. 
By the time she’s finished and gone off to engage with the newest patron in the diner, your coffee’s finished and Steve’s has gone cold. You watch Dottie walk off and when you look back, Steve’s staring at you, soft and kind. His gaze makes you squirm. 
“I like her,” he says. 
“Uh oh, do I have to worry about having competition now?” you joke and Steve shakes his head with a laugh. 
“You don’t have to worry about anyone else, you’re the only one for me,” he confesses, rubbing his thumb against your hand. There’s that feeling like your heart might explode again with a sigh of his name, Steve. Though this time, you’re positive you’ve said it outloud.
“Steve,” you tilt your head, voice soft. He lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles and if you don’t kiss him in the next minute, you’re going to have a problem. As if he can sense it, Steve sticks a five on the table and grabs the jacket he’d brought for you as well as Cliff’s leftover newspaper.
He holds his hand out to you to help you out of your side of the booth and you take it, his palm soft against yours. You make it to the door and then pause. 
“Oh! Gotta grab my bag from the back,” you lean up to press a kiss against his cheek. “Meet you at the car?”
Steve nods, squeezing your hip briefly. He watches until you’ve disappeared into the back office before he walks out to his car. You come out not even a minute later, apron off and over your arm and bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a slight skip in your step. 
The air smells like rain, an earthy petrichor that makes things somehow feel lighter. Steve’s leaning against the passenger side, the door already open and waiting for you. When you’re close enough, he hooks a finger through your bag strap to pull it off your shoulder. It gets caught on the crook of your elbow when you reach up to cup his cheeks with your hands. 
He’s confused for the briefest of seconds and then your lips are on his and he forgets about the bag on your shoulder. His hands fall to your hips, one of his arms wrapping tight around your waist. Something inside both of you is cheering, finally. 
You don’t think you’ll ever tire of kissing Steve. Both of you fit perfectly into the empty spots of each other, as if you were carved from the same stone upon creation. It’s a kiss almost far too explicit for outside Dottie’s diner midmorning on a Sunday but you can’t bring yourself to care. That is, until you need to come up for air. 
You pull back, Steve chasing your lips and winning. You’re almost smiling too much now for it to work, your hands sliding from his cheeks to the sides of his neck. This time, he pulls away and your chests rise and fall in sync. 
“Been needing to do that since you first walked inside,” you breathe out and Steve lets out a laugh that you can feel reverberate through you. He kisses you again, quick and soft and his hand moves to take your bag off your shoulder again. 
“And why didn’t you?” he jests, stepping back enough for you to get into his car. One of your hands rests on the top of it, the other hanging loose at your side. Steve wishes he had a camera on him just to capture you in that moment with the sun hitting you in just the right way, playful adoration in your eyes. 
“Because,” you shrug, stooping to get inside the car, holding a hand out for your bag when you’re situated. Steve passes it over and closes your door, jogging around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. 
“Because…?” he pries, sticking the key in the ignition but not yet turning it. You’re pulling your seatbelt across your chest, turning your head to smile at him as you click the buckle into place. 
“Because Dottie might’ve gotten suspicious as to why I was so late this morning,” another pointed look his way and Steve shakes his head, turning the engine over and quickly buckling in his seatbelt. He shifts into reverse, checking his rearview mirror and then slinging his arm across the back of your seat. 
It’s like a feast for your eyes. The stretch of his arm, a long expanse of muscle right by your head that carries a strong whiff of his cologne. The swift, smooth, one handed feel on the wheel. You’re staring unabashed, only getting knocked out of your reverie when he responds. 
“I’m never living this down.”
He glances at you, his arm dropping from your seat to shift into drive. You lean your head against the headrest and shake it with a smile. 
“So what was your excuse then? For being late?” 
He pulls onto the street to take you back towards Hawkins, his right hand leaving the wheel and dropping to find your hand. You take the liberty of slotting your fingers into the spaces between his. 
“Oh you know. Rough night being sick. Oversleeping. Like something out of Steve Harrington’s playbook for getting out of work,” you tease. He scoffs, sparing you a quick amused glance. You lift your hands to your lips in response, your smile hiding behind the kiss you press to his knuckles. 
“And did it work? Did she buy it?” 
“Oh, of course. Why do you think she let me off so early?” 
Steve looks over at you again and sees the slight smirk on your face. He shakes his head with a slight laugh. 
“Wow, you’ve been hanging around me too long. I’m rubbing off on you.”
“Like that’s such a bad thing,” you roll your eyes, turning your head so your cheek rests against the leather of the headrest. A gooey softness melts into your gaze. “You’re one of the best people I know.”
Steve smiles, his cheeks blooming with a slight twinge of pink. He doesn’t say anything, just takes his turn lifting your joined hands to his lips to litter kisses along your knuckles. Your heart goes mushy, such has been the case since you started dating Steve. The mush liquefies, seeping through your body with a shiver when you notice the picture he’s got propped on his dash. 
He’s had to have just added it recently. A grainy film capture of the two of you, you think Max must’ve taken it if you remember correctly but you haven’t seen it before. You’re both leaning against the hood of his car, Steve’s arm around your shoulders and your hand lifted to hold his hand that hangs there. A big toothy grin is spread across your face, your head tilted slightly against Steve’s shoulder. Steve’s not looking at the camera though, he’s looking at you with a lopsided smile, adoration spilling out of him clear as day. 
“When did you add that?” you ask, pointing at the picture with your free hand. Steve glances down at it and immediately breaks into a smile.
“Just the other day. Surprised it’s taken you so long to notice it,” he replies, looking over at you and then back at the road. You’re about to ask if you can somehow get a copy of your own when he says, “I have a copy for you at home, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get it before you go back to your place.”
You smile at him, one that’s soft around the edges, a perfect mirror of how you feel. It feels so wonderful to be known and seen by somebody the way Steve knows and sees you. Making sure to get two prints of that picture of you. Bringing a jacket to work for you for the rain that doesn’t arrive until that afternoon as you’re about to leave his house to go back to yours. 
He uses it as an excuse to keep you with him for another night, something you weakly protest against because the roads aren’t completely slick yet and you can get home just fine. But he insists, his eyes round and pleading and really you can’t deny that you’d rather stay with him anyway. 
Even if it means you’re tired again in the morning and rushing to work. You think being with Steve is a worthy price to pay, you never thought you’d be so glad to be so tired. 
And, at least you’re not late this time.
314 notes · View notes
licorice-tea · 7 months
Text
The Object Of All My Desires
Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader
Content: so much angst, unrequited feelings (or so law thinks!), pining, yearning, (verbal) fighting, cursing, reader refers to law as a “stalker”, which is valid tbh bc he’s being a little weird, but not really, strawhat reader
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: oh my god i spend so long on this and i just kept hitting mental roadblocks! but then, tonight i got the inspiration to write like ~500 words and finished it up. there were only meant to be 2 parts, but similar to the second season of bridgerton (which it’s inspired by) there will be a 3rd! (the 1st part is based on the first meeting of kate/anthony, this part is based on that entire pinning phase+the confesssion, and the last will be shorter and basically be a resolution of everything.) also, im looking for beta readers! pls dm or comment if you’re interested!!! and if you’d like to be tagged in the next lmk! thanks for reading <3
Part 1 • Part 3
The second time you and Law were around one another long enough to have to face the other and, god forbid, speak, would come 2 years after your first meeting. After all your training apart from your crew, you had finally united and started traveling together again. You and your nakama took on all the challenges Fishman Island had thrown at you and soon moved on to the next adventure: Punk Hazard. It was there you met the standoffish Captain of the Heart Pirates again, and he proposed an alliance to Luffy between your two crews. So here you are; in an alliance with a captain you’d managed to piss off 2 years ago, and who clearly still carries that grudge with him.
Law already doesn’t like being part of the alliance with Straw Hat- but you only make it 1000 times worse. It’s unbearable having to be on the same ship as you, let alone sit at the same table over meals or pass each other in hallways. Not to mention, you seem to make everything a competition. And he doesn’t want to be in as childish a feud as the one that the swordsman and the love cook have, but you’re forcing him to act that way. You’re absolutely insufferable, and how he ever found you remotely intriguing or pretty to begin with is beyond his comprehension.
And yet, Law can’t pull himself away from you, nor you from him. He lingers in dark hallways just to pass by you as you go about your errands on the ship. He stares long enough to burn holes through you, then turns away milliseconds before you catch him (or so he thinks.) But every time you approach the reserved man, he exudes an air of annoyance.
It all makes you wonder, “What’s his deal?” Besides your little tiff back in Sabaody 2 years ago, you’ve never done anything to offend him in his time on the Sunny… Maybe you just need to clear the air. Yeah, that’s it; confront Law and ensure there is no bad blood between the two of you. No grudges, just goodwill.
You hope.
~
The Strawhats and co (Law) are docked at a small island, just for a day or so. Frankly needs supplies, Sanji; ingredients, Chopper; medicine, Zoro; booze, etcetera. And since most of the others have something specific they’re in search of, you have a free day to explore and shop!
You bid Brooke goodbye and thank him for watching the ship, then make your way up the dock and into town. It’s a quaint area, but the market near the entrance of what resembles a town square is overflowing with interesting bits and baubles.
Though you are happy to have this time to yourself, you’re not alone. Law is a mere 20ish feet away. He doesn’t greet you or even make eye contact, instead choosing to lean into shadows and stand behind vendor booths. You can tell that he’s trying to go unnoticed, pretending to be interested in whatever wares the shopkeepers have for sale every time you turn back to check for him.
And it’s fine, for a while. This could be a good opportunity to try and talk to him and ensure that the two of you are on good, if not neutral terms. It’s a little strange that he’s following you now after the two of you have had close to no interactions during his week or so on board the Thousand Sunny, but you don’t mind.
You cannot, however, pass up the opportunity to harmlessly scare him when he gets momentarily distracted by one of the little shops. While Law is reading titles of comic books (how strange…), you double back so that when he looks up, he can’t find you. He scans the marketplace, but to no avail- you must have run off somewhere.
Then you tap his shoulder, and the man nearly jumps out of his skin as he whips his head around to see who it is.
“You really like stalking me, huh?”
“…I’m not stalking you.”
“No? Well, whatever you want to call it, it’s the second time it’s happened.”
“What are you-“
“Sabaody, 2 years ago.”
“I wasn’t stalking you then, either.”
“Fine; following me through at least 3 groves while trying to be quiet and stay out of sight.”
Law scoffs. “Whatever.”
“Hm…” You lean to the side to see what’s behind him; display shelves with various comic books. “What were you looking at?”
“Nothing, I wasn’t even looking here.”
“Ah, so it’s ok for you to lie to my face, but not me to you. Got it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
You nearly laugh. 2 years ago, after proceeding to follow you through several groves of the Archipelago, Law had insisted on knowing if you were a pirate or not, and the conversation had somehow escalated into an argument. It was a stupid little thing. But, you find it funny now, which is why you’re attempting to make jokes about the encounter and ensure him there are no hard feelings reserved over it. “Again, Sabaody.”
“Well… maybe you should stop carrying a grudge over that.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I only bring it up because I think it’s funny.”
“I think it’s childish.” Law doesn’t know why he says this, to be honest. He wants to come off as smart and witty, though he might not have executed it very well.
With a scoff, you cross your arms. “Law you’ve refused to even look at me in your time with my crew. When I try to talk to you, you act like you don’t hear me or straight up ignore me. Then you go and stare at me from across as if I can’t see you. And I’m childish?”
“Yeah, you are, and I don’t like you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Better than you being an awkward asshole with no explanations as to why.”
“I’m not fucking awkward, shut up.”
“Oh no, you just follow people around for the better part of an hour without talking to them. Very charming.”
Law huffs, unamused, and storms off without another word.
You sigh and continue browsing the stalls. “Ok, so, maybe there is some bad blood between us….”
~
Things are awkward between you and Law for the remainder of the evening. Not only is he avoiding you, but you’re also avoiding him. And though you still try your best to be at least a little friendly, he straight up ignores all of your attempts. Whereas before your little confrontation in the marketplace, the stoic man would have at least responded with an eye roll.
When it’s dinnertime, you take your seat next to Robin as usual. Casual conversation and laughter flow around the table easily and seemingly endlessly… until Law walks in. He sits in the only empty chair, next to Chopper’s, and nods at Sanji in thanks for the food. And you, foolishly, try to incorporate him into the conversation. Maybe you do it to try and heal the small rift between the two of you, or maybe you simply want to provoke him further (though you'd never admit it.)
“So, Law, how was your day?”
Everyone pauses their conversations to not-so-discreetly listen in. They had also recognized the growing tension between you and the ally captain, for seemingly no reason at all.
“Mind your own business.”
“Hard to do when you’re always in mine.”
He nearly spits out his drink.“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I’m starting to get sick of your behavior, y/n.”
“So sick that you just can’t seem to leave me alone?”
“Watch the way you speak to me-“
“My apologies Law, I’m so used to being watched by you rather than having conversations, I must have forgotten my manners-“
“Shut up!”
“Fuck you!”
Now that both of your voices are raised, the crew sees it fit to intervene.
“Watch how you speak to them, Trafalgar-“ Sanji warns.
Similarly, Robin tries to talk you down. “Y/n, he’s our ally-“
The attempts to calm what had nearly turned into a screaming match prove futile, as Law storms out. You scoff and cross your arms. He’s so infuriating, it makes you sick to your stomach.
Silence passes as your crewmates look between each other, none wanting to be the first to… console you? Admonish? Give advice.
“You two should talk, y/n.” Says Robin, ever so mature.
“If he wants to talk, he can come to me instead of constantly staring at me from across the deck without saying anything.”
“Well, he’s clearly not very good at showing it, but you realize that he likes you, don’t you?”
You blink and turn to look at her. This must be another one of her dark jokes. “Very funny, Robin.”
“Oh, y/n, come on!“ Usopp groans; he’s had enough of the yearning and tension. “You seriously didn’t know?”
“No! Because he doesn’t like me. He’s been holding a stupid grudge against me since the first time we met back in Sabaody-“
Nami backs up Usopp’s point; “A crush, y/n. He’s had a crush on you and he’s too shy to talk to you normally-“
“So, what, it’s ok for him to just watch from afar but then act like a jerk when I try and talk to him?”
Surprisingly, Chopper speaks up next. “…Maybe your intentions came off different than intended?”
This makes you bite your lip in thought. Perhaps they had.
Nami pats your shoulder, “Now, go work this out so the rest of us don’t have to deal with all your unresolved tension.”
You unintentionally pout; the last thing you want is to talk to Law right now. But, your crew urges you on, and all but pushes you out the door.
~
You find him pacing back and forth on the starboard deck of the Sunny.
“Law?”
He whips around and you swear you see his scowl become even more pronounced than usual. The crease between his brows deepens, as the corners of his lips turn into a borderline pout. “Not done tormenting me?
“Tormenting? I just… I came to talk to you.“
“I find that hard to believe. From the moment we met, you have been nothing but rude and a nuisance to me.”
You scoff, all plans of reconciliation forgotten. “Believe me, Law, the feeling is mutual.”
“Fuck off.”
“This is my ship, so why don’t you fuck off? Jump overboard for all I care.”
“Maybe I will if it gets me away from you.” Law turns on his heel and storms off the open deck and into a hallway.
“Good luck swimming, asshole!”
Your rebuttal brings him right back to his former position, face to face with you so that your screaming match can continue “I hope you know that every moment I have to spend on this ship is torture, y/n, all because of you.”
“I haven’t done shit to you, Law.”
“Then whose fault is it that I feel this way? Go on, name someone else so I can take it out on them instead.”
“It’s your fault if you feel any type of way about me besides amicably. I’ve been nothing but kind, and-“
“Bullshit. Whether you know it or not you’ve done… something to me, I can feel it.”
“Oh yeah? And since when do you know anything about how you feel, all you do is brood.”
“I don’t brood. And I know that you are the bane of my existence.” He spits back, making sure to emphasize the word bane.
You hold your breath, refusing to play into this childish argument any longer. Or maybe it’s because, even if it’s just a little, his words genuinely hurt. You realize then, that you don’t want to be the so called ‘bane of his existence.’ He takes your silence as an opportunity to continue, though at a much lower volume than before.
“… And the object of all my desires.”
After a moment of disbelief, your scowl turns to a raised brow. “Excuse me?”
“Every one of my waking hours is plagued by thoughts of you. It doesn’t help that I can’t go anywhere on this goddamned ship-“
“Don’t you talk about the Sunny that way-“
“- without seeing you!”
“Well you must enjoy being around me if you’ve decided I’m,” you create air quotations with your hands, “the object of all your desires.”
You feel so out of your depth now. All you know to do is to bite back with witty remarks, even when he opens up to you. And he seems to do the exact same.
“It’s a nuisance.”
Your lip trembles, but you refuse to cry in front of Law while he plays this sick mind game with you. “I didn’t know liking me was such an awful fate.”
He lets out a shaky breath. “There are so many other things I should be focused on, but all I think of is you. It’s not awful, but it’s making me weak.”
“You’re such a prick, Law.”
He’s bewildered, mouth gaping as he tries to understand what could’ve been wrong with what he’s just confessed to you. “I’m saying I like you, y/n, I- Do you hate me that much?”
“No, I don’t hate you, idiot! But you- when you started traveling with us, you made me feel like I had done something to offend you, and then when I confronted you about it in the market you started to really hold a grudge, then you - I just- that’s not how you treat people!”
“Y/n-“
“Are you messing with me right now, Law? Is this another play to try and gain the upper hand in this… ongoing thing we have?”
“No, I wouldn’t…” He trails off and shakes his head. He probably would, if he weren’t so enamored with you and on the condition he possessed the social skills to pull off such an elaborate scheme. “It’s not.”
You’re silent again, but both you and Law are refusing to break eye contact. He must notice your still watery eyes and trembling bottom lip because he steps forward. His hand travels to your arm, then your chin. Forced to look at him, you are pained to see a similar unhappy look in his eyes. Minus the tears. You could almost take him for sorry if it weren’t Trafalgar Law, of all people. So instead of falling into his arms like you suddenly feel a desperate need to; you step backward.
You fold your arms over your chest as you look off somewhere- anywhere besides his eyes. “Law, nothing good can come of this.”
“This? What is this, y/n?”
“These.. feelings.”
“You feel the same?”
“I didn’t ask to feel this way!” You bite back, “But… yes, I do.”
“So what should we do?”
“We aren’t going to do anything, Law. You just stay in your lane, and I’ll stay in mine.”
“I thought you didn’t like that I was avoiding you?”
“Well now that I know why, what else can be done? Nothing can happen between us, Law. And we can’t allow feelings to complicate this alliance. I can’t allow that, at least; it’s too important to Luffy.”
He searches for reasoning that will trump yours but comes up with none. And so, with a heavy heart, he concedes. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Nothing happened.” Law confirms.
“And nothing will.”
You nod and start walking away. “Goodnight, Law.”
“Goodnight, y/n.”
And once you’re back safely in your room, the tears start to spill. You hate this- you hate him. You hate the way he makes you feel. You hate that you’re in love with him, and it took you this long to realize.
The tears don’t stop until you’re knocked out, and by the time you wake up, they’ve stained your cheeks.
Taglist: @augustanna @lavanderdreamve @pinksaiyans @khaleesihavilliard @jennapancake
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rhaenerystargaryen · 1 month
Text
i wanna be saved
pairing: modern!daemon targaryen x fem!reader
synopsis: it's okay to have a little fun once in a while but remember, everything is better aged.
warnings: smut (p in v), oral sex, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, age-gap relationship, consumption of alcohol, cussing/adult language
wc: 2076
a/n: my request box is open for anything your hearts desire <3
it had been a long week at your corporate job. your boss, being the asshole he is, made you the head of a project. managing a nine to five and grad school proved to be one of the worst things on the face on the earth. you’ve spent countless nights studying for exams while also trying to keep everything in order so that the launch of said project would go smoothly. long story short, it had been a while since you’ve had some fun.
“which skirt suits me better?” your friend, rhaenyra asked.
“the silver one,” you replied, aimlessly scrolling on your phone.
your dear friend, rhaenyra, had begged invited you to come clubbing with her. according to her, “you never go out anymore!"
*start of flashback*
"you should come to this thing my uncle is hosting," rhaenyra pulled out a flyer from her purse, "here. it has the address and everything on it already."
"rhaenyra, you know i'd love to but i really need to focus on-" she cut you off.
"work? well, i already know its either work or school. have you seriously forgotten that you're a hot, young twenty two year old and not some middle aged woman?"
"rhaenyra-"
"just come with me," she whined, "pleaseeee!! we can get ready together and i'll even buy you a drink," you raised your eyebrow at that last statement to which you both laughed at.
"okay! okay! i'll go," rhaenyra threw her fist up in excitement, "but," you started, "if i get shitfaced, its your problem."
*end of flashback*
you watched her slide the skirt on and turn to face you.
“i don’t think this skirt looks good on me,” she expressed making you roll your eyes.
“yes it does,” getting up, you grabbed at her shirt, “look it matches this silver detailing.”
“whatever you say my dear y/n,” she laughed.
"well im done so whenever you finish we can go," you stated.
rhaenyra turned to look at you, "you're joking right?"
"what?"
"there is no way you're going out in that," she exclaimed. you had opted to wear a white tank top with some black shorts while rhaenyra went all out.
"what? does it not look good on me?" you asked.
"its too casual," she made her way to her closet and from there you could hear shuffling until she emerged holding a black lacy dress.
"here, try this!"
you looked at the dress then her, "rhaenyra-"
"oh cmon, please! do i have to beg you to do everything? this dress would make you look so sexy and while you're at it, ditch those shoes."
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as the two of you stepped out of the car, you made note of the scenery. whoever her uncle was must have been loaded, or important, because this venue was too fancy for just a couple of young adults clubbing.
"rhaenyra?" your eyes darted back and forth between the building and her as you walked toward the entrance of the venue, "what does your uncle do for work exactly?"
you had hardly taken notice to the man standing by the door, waiting for rhaenyra.
"niece," he stated look at rhaenyra then turning to face you.
"y/n," you reached your hand out to shake his.
"y/n," he repeated, "what a beautiful name," then he grabbed your hand to kiss it.
rhaenyra rolled her eyes as she spoke, "y/n, this is my uncle daemon."
"nice to meet you," you shyly responded to his gesture.
"no need for formalities. it is always a pleasure to be the in presence of such beautiful young ladies," he teased.
"uncle," rhaenyra started, "i think my dear friend y/n has had enough, would you show us to our booth?"
"with pleasure," daemon said with a sly smirk plastered on his face.
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it had been two hours since daemon had taken the both of you to your booth. those two hours were spent getting pampered by rich wall street men who were looking to spend a pretty penny getting young girls drunk. rhaenyra had entranced one of them to the dance floor 30 minutes prior, leaving you all alone.
"enjoying your time, princess?" you looked up from your phone to see daemon standing, arms crossed.
"oh yes, everything here is so nice. not like those dirty college clubs where i usually get wasted," you joked.
"oh really?" daemon had moved to take a seat next to you, "do you party often?"
"well...not really," you shrugged.
"why's that? you seem like a fun girl," he laughed.
"i've just been really busy at work and you know i'm trying to balance that with school," you knew you were starting to ramble but at this point you didn't care, "it just hasn't been working in my favor i guess."
daemon was looking at you, almost as if he was consuming every word you'd been saying.
"what?" you took notice of his odd staring.
snapping out of his trance he cleared his throat and sat up, "nothing nothing. you seem like a very dedicated young woman, y/n. everything will pass but you shouldn't deny yourself the pleasure of living," he said.
you could tell he was speaking from prior experience, making you question his age.
"how old are you, daemon?" you blurted.
clearly the question caught him off guard but he didn't seem to mind as he started laughing.
"i'm sorry. i know that question was probably insensitive, i didn't mean to-"
"i'm 40, y/n," he spoke smoothly.
"oh," you couldn't seem to find the right words for this situation.
raising a brow, he leaned in closer, "does that bother you, y/n?" he asked.
"no, no it doesn't," you shook your head.
daemon didn't say anything but just lean into you, your legs now touching.
"when was the last time you had some fun, y/n?" his tone now a bit firm.
"well, depends on what kind of fun you're talking about," you joked trying to ease the tension.
you couldn't sit here and deny how your body was reacting to daemon. ever since he'd kissed your hand a couple hours prior, you'd noticed how well his blue-grey eyes complemented his platinum hair. not to mention the fact he had to be at least 6'2. the one thing that set your stomach on fire though was the fact that he was older, so much older.
"when was the last time you were fucked, y/n?" he spoke lowly, breath fanning your face.
your body retracted a bit which daemon took notice of, grabbing your face in response so that now you were looking directly at him.
"are you going to answer, princess?" he hummed.
you could feel your heart beating so intensely you thought it might run out of chest, "a while," you shyly responded.
"was it good?" he asked.
you couldn't bring yourself to speak. you just shook your head "no" and that told daemon all he needed to know.
"would you like me to show you how a real man pleases a woman, y/n?" there was a hint of mockery in the way he spoke. obviously not directed at you, but the man who had you before.
"what about rhaenyra?" you bit your lip, "what would she think about this?"
"this has nothing to do with rhaenyra. you are a grown woman, y/n...but i can see now that you're hesitant. you don't want me to show you," he released your face from his grasp.
"wait! daemon," you grabbed his arm, "i want you," you admitted with the last bit of dignity you had.
"how badly do you want me, princess?" that damn nickname had your heart running laps around your rib cage and even doing backflips.
"so so so badly, daemon," you toyed with your lip as you tried to read his face.
daemon leaned in to grab your face once more, placing his lips onto yours. the way he kissed made the heart doing laps and flips in your ribcage drop dead and instead, set your stomach on fire. he was aggressive, threading his fingers through your hair and pulling your head back to nip at the exposed skin on your neck.
suddenly, he pulled back, "follow me."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
daemon had taken you by the arm down a secluded hallway of the club. you figured you were going to his office, thinking he worked here. yet when he opened the door, you were met with the sight of a private room.
"well...this is nice," you joked before daemon pushed you up against the wall, taking your mouth into his.
his muscular arms traveled down your torso, pulling at the thin material of your lacy dress. your legs opened slightly ajar, giving him the opportunity to place his hand through the ridden-up cloth and tease your leaking slit.
"daemon, please...do something," you whined as he slowly kissed down your neck.
his arms traced back up to where the bottom of your dress was residing and pulled it over your head.
"no bra?" he teased, biting down on your hip bone.
"no bra," you whined out, "just for you."
"oh yeah? who knew you were such a dirty girl, y/n?" he moved so that you could look at yourself in the full length mirror, "look at you...so perfect."
you could only hum a response back before daemon pulled your thong down and started teasing your leaking hole.
"daemon! fuck...please," you mewled out.
"please what, princess?"
"please, eat my pussy," you begged.
"i will, my love...but first i want to play with this pretty pussy," he affirmed as he slid a finger in.
pumping for a bit, he decided to add another one, "how does that feel?"
"sososo good...," you threw your head back, "fuck daemon!" you moaned when he took his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue.
the way he ate your pussy, almost as if he was a starved man had you cursing more than you ever had in your life. not to mention the stars that clouded your vision as he combined the prior finger action with his tongue.
"daemon," you shuddered looking down at him, "i'm gonna cum," you threw your head back, eyes shut.
"no you're not," he responded, pulling his fingers and tongue out of you.
"wha-" you were too clouded to think as daemon picked you up and threw you onto the bed.
he immediately went back to kissing you and you could taste yourself on him. making you even wetter then you were before.
"daemon, take off your clothes," you tugged at his shirt.
"take them off for me, baby," he replied, placing your hands on his chest.
quickly, you went to work removing every piece of clothing on his body until he was bare. you admired his abs for a second, trailing your fingers through the ridges until they reached his v-line.
"that's enough teasing out of you," daemon stated as he flipped you onto all fours, "i want you to look at yourself in the mirror when i fuck you. don't take your eyes off."
the way he said it made it seem like a threat and you weren't willing to test daemon's patience. he slowly entered you and you could feel your knees start to shake from the sheer girth of his length but his hands came to lay on your hips, helping you steady yourself. it only took a couple of thrusts before daemon started going absolutely insane.
"fuck...it's like you were made for me, y/n...so perfect," he groaned as he pulled your back up to touch his stomach.
"daemon, i'm not going to last much longer..." you whispered as his thrusts increased.
"look at yourself when i make you cum," he commanded and your eyes shifted to the mirror.
"fuck y/n, baby...i'm gonna cum," daemon nipped at your ear, "i want you to cum with me."
within a matter of seconds the two of you were falling apart. you were sure that if there were other private rooms, they would've heard the way you yelled daemon's name. hell, the whole venue probably heard you but it all didn't matter because the orgasm that daemon just gave you put the rest to shame and he knew it too. you laid, breathless on the bed looking at him.
"are you tired, old man?" you teased.
"do want to see how tired this old man really is, princess?" daemon replied before emerging on top of you for yet, another round.
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silantryoo · 2 months
Text
BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — EPILOGUE 3, begin again
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jo yuri and choi yena's wedding.
WARNINGS ; implied depression, mentions of overworking, slightly suggestive, mentions of broken homes (2.4k)
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y/n wished that it was her up on that altar with wonyoung.
the hues of white and gold twinkled against the sunlight, the heat of the californian sun blinding everyone in the venue. yuri's dress, a hanbok beautifully accentuated with gold, ruffled in the wind, yena standing across from her soon-to-be wife with tears in her eyes.
y/n couldn't focus as they began to open their letters, the couple's vows written in great length (and the last time y/n asked yuri, she had almost two pages).
all she saw was jang wonyoung, standing across from her with a soft smile, watching the couple exchange their speeches.
the wonyoung she knew was still there, bits and pieces of the shy, caring girl she fell in love with years ago making herself known through each smile and laugh. her smile was still angelic, but gone was the burden of her last name. she walked lighter, the shackles of expectations now released from her .
she wasn't jang wonyoung, the daughter of a politician. she wasn't jang wonyoung, the promising volleyball player and the hope of suma, nor was she 'victory' jang, yoo 'the ace of korea' jimin's shadow.
she was wonyoung, just wonyoung.
and somehow, despite the years apart, wonyoung looked as beautiful as ever. she seemed much older, wiser, yet it was all the same. with her hair slightly shorter, y/n could tell she had gained some weight in her cheeks. her eyes, still doe-like, never seemed brighter, and from where she stood, y/n could see someone familiar.
she didn't know why, but y/n wanted to fall in love with this wonyoung, just like she she fell in love with her wonyoung.
y/n's eyes tore away from her ex, the entirety of the venue cheering as yena and yuri kissed.
she clapped half-heartedly, her mind and eyes wandering to the tall girl standing on the other side.
she was happy for the two, knowing how hard it must've been for them. y/n knew about their rough patch and the long-distance relationship they had during yena's overseas training. she admired them honestly, the way they pushed through it.
y/n wanted to be like them, so sure they'd be better for the other person.
she glanced at wonyoung, their eyes meeting.
it was pathetic, honestly. she was still hung up on her ex from college despite graduating so long ago. even through her multiple counselling and therapy sessions, she couldn't let go of it.
she did all the steps. she explored her options, dating around but nothing truly sticking. she took care of herself, both mentally and physically. she focused on her career, finally a well known actress.
but it always ended with wonyoung in her heart, no matter how much her mind wanted it to stop.
yuri and yena walked down the aisle, and beside her, jiwon and minju had already begun to cry.
(she was sure after their toasts later, jiwon would sob a river.)
it was bittersweet, knowing that when she was young, she had always dreamed that she and her wonyoung would be walking down in a similar fashion, somewhere in france.
wiping a stray tear on her cheek, y/n smiled. they followed suit with the now-wedded couple, cheers erupting as flowers littered the hot air.
y/n looked forward at the couple.
wonyoung didn't.
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the after-party started right after aeri's toast.
they had moved to a much bigger, more ambient venue once the ceremony had ended. it was a couple minutes away from the vineyard, yet it was enough to fill the entirety of the one hundred guests and the couple's requests.
wonyoung knew coming in that there would be a huge bar with a plethora of fine wines and liquor. yena had asked her months ago about the most expensive services money could buy. beside it, a photo booth with yena and yuri's cardboard cutouts stood. tables littered the floor, the front designated for the two brides. in the center was the dance floor, a huge, rave-like stage sat in the middle.
she was surprised that the two didn't bother to buy a disco ball while they were at it.
"yeah," yujin hiccuped, raising a glass of champagne in her hand. she watched as yena messily made out with her now-wife in the middle of the dance floor. "that's my friend!"
wonyoung smiled. part of her wished rei could've come to humble yujin a tad, but things were already hard on her with the mention of jiwon. if she were to see the kim, fully dressed up, she was sure to have a mental breakdown.
gaeul sat yujin down, the taller girl leaning on her fiancée.
"is yujin-unnie drunk already?"
her eyes wandered for a moment, settling on the actress who constantly invaded her mind.
unlike wonyoung who was mostly known for her brand, l/n y/n was a name you heard everywhere. her face was on billboards, her smile on screens. everywhere she looked, everything she heard was y/n, or at least adjacent to her.
it hurt for a while, seeing the girl you loved everywhere but not hearing from her. wonyoung had waited months for a text back, for a call.
nothing came, and it was enough for wonyoung to know that y/n was done with her.
but the years of drowning herself in horrible music, expensive wine, and using work as a distraction paid off. VKY took off, and the bigger it got, the worse and worse her mind became.
the first few months of success felt like a failure.
"she was drunk during the ceremony, actually." gaeul clarified, ignoring the sulking girl beside her.
wonyoung was thankful for them, dragging her away from her desk and forcing her to face everything she worked so hard to push away. gaeul, rei and yujin urged her to go get help, and despite her parents raising hell to prevent wonyoung, she did.
she hated taking those stupid pills though.
"i was not!" yujin sulked, clinging onto gaeul like saran wrap. "i was tipsy."
wonyoung glanced once more at her ex, y/n smiling at some joke yuri had made.
she got over it, the ghosting. it took a year or two (or three), but she did. she cried, she drank, she tried to forget. wonyoung even journaled, her baby blue leather book filled with tears and pain.
still, she could never get over y/n.
it was by accident. wonyoung had found out when she was going through her contacts with yujin, the two talking about other notable people to model for her newest collection. yujin, always making sure never forgot, mentioned the actress. out of curiosity, she checked, only to realize that her number was wrong.
and then she panicked even further.
('wrong number.' she had double-checked with jiwon.)
"baby," yujin whined, her eyes watery. "i wanna dance."
the olympian tugged on her fiancée, huffing at gaeul's sluggish movements. yujin's emotions always got amplified tenfold when she drank, and years later, it was still the same.
"i'm gonna go with her." gaeul grinned, gathering her purse as yujin tugged harder. "she'll start telling people we're married if i don't."
"we are!"
"we are not." gaeul's voice blended into the background, finally giving into yujin's request. "our wedding is next year, yujinnie."
the music continued to blast around them, wonyoung watching as they walked into the surprisingly active crowd (but what did she expect from yena and yuri's friends?). their figures blurred into the horde, leaving wonyoung alone at the table.
she looked at her glass, dripping as the cold mingled with the hotter air.
it was lonely, being twenty-six years old and watching your friends get married. she achieved success, all the things her father was sure she would never reach. but not once was she date. she didn't want to date anyone, and when she did, it wasn't her.
it wasn't y/n.
wonyoung felt like she was back in that stupid bathtub, drinking some wine she grabbed from the dollar store, and playing some music that someone probably dedicated to their ex. her eighteen-year-old self would probably sit beside her, crying in her arms. she'd probably even throw up on the ta-
"hey."
l/n y/n.
familiar yet different, everything and nothing, hers but no ones.
"hi." wonyoung smiled, her grin soft but her heart hammering.
y/n's nerves crackled in the dim light, the sun setting behind her. for years, she had dreamt about this, pathetically so.
"can i sit here?"
the designer nodded. "go ahead."
the decorated chair scraped the floor lightly, y/n taking place on it. she was close enough to feel, the heat of her skin permeating onto wonyoung's, their knees nearly touching. wonyoung strained her ears, hyper-aware of every move, every breath, everything that was y/n.
she was over the hurt, but wonyoung would never be over y/n.
"congrats, by the way."
wonyoung glanced at the shorter girl's hands, watching as she rubbed her knuckles. "on what?"
"on your brand." y/n whispered, her words coming out slightly forced and awkward. "i remember you always liked stuff like that."
she always tried to hide it, but y/n remembered freshman year, and the little pastel blue notebook wonyoung would hide in her nightstand.
"i did." wonyoung fought the urge to look up, to steal a glance, afraid that this was just another dream. "i just never had the time to."
fear always ruled jang wonyoung.
the fear of imperfection, of loss and pain. it lingered in the halls of the jang household, long before wonyoung was born. it was a birthright that she had no say in, one acquired through her father's actions and her mother's words.
wonyoung wasn't scared anymore.
the taller girl's eyes met with y/n's, a soft sigh escaping her mouth. y/n was way more beautiful than she remembered, her cat-like eyes and her mole pairing with her smile.
"how's hyunseo?"
"she's good." wonyoung closed her eyes, letting out another breath as she relaxed. "we visited hannah's grave a couple weeks back."
y/n had never heard of hannah, her name a foreign word to the actress. she tried to wrack her mind for any memories, but every single one came out empty.
"hannah?" y/n sighed softly. "who's hannah?"
wonyoung stared at her, her eyes softening. it felt so freeing, finally being able to say her name. "hannah was someone who meant a lot to me."
even after years, a near decade, y/n could still read the bits and pieces of wonyoung. how she'd look away, contemplating on telling more. how the girl take a sip of water, trying her best to calm down.
wonyoung was still so similar to the girl she met, the girl she loved, and the girl she let go.
"why didn't you tell me that you were the deleted number?" her mouth moved before she could process her words.
"huh?" wonyoung froze, and from the corner of her eye, she could see the crowd getting larger and larger. "oh, um, i didn't think it mattered anymore."
if wonyoung was eighty percent sure she let go, then she was sure y/n definitely did.
and before, as soon as those words left wonyoung's mouth, y/n would already be in hysterics. her heart would be ripped in two, and she'd go silent, trying her best to figure out what she did wrong.
"it mattered to me." it felt like the world lifted off her shoulders. "you should've said something."
their eyes met once more.
"i panicked." wonyoung's voice was sheepish, a small dust of red coating her face. "it was stupid of me, i know. i just..."
y/n's fingers twitched, her mind itching to touch her wonyoung again, to figure out who was in there.
"an old habit, i'm guessing?"
she'd love any version of wonyoung, whether it was hers or not.
"a very old habit."
the air danced around them as the night continued, the smell of booze multiplying with each minute. neither moved from their spot, worried that this was the last time - the last chance - they'd get to see each other. so the two sat, stealing glances and people-watching, content with whatever was going to happen next, whether it be good or bad.
a soft whisper traveled into wonyoung's ears, and if she hadn't spent the past eight years yearning for the sound, she might have missed it.
"i'm better now, wonnie."
wonyoung loved that nickname more than life itself. "sorry?"
"my promise." a smile flickered onto the actress's face, and wonyoung found herself afraid of losing her again. "i'm better now."
old habits die hard, but time marched forward. wonyoung knew that they changed, for better or for worse. she knew that no matter what, in sickness and in health, she'd love y/n. they weren't the same two naive girls who were hurting, and even though glimpses of them flashed through, wonyoung was willing.
y/n held her hand, and everything fell into place.
"thank you..." wonyoung could barely hold her tears back. "for keeping your promise."
"anything for you, wonnie."
y/n squeezed her hand, and the room fell silent. wonyoung felt like she was floating. she wasn't sure where she was gonna land, if it was gonna hurt her or anyone else. all she knew was that somewhere, y/n was waiting for her, just like wonyoung had been too.
to love someone was to do the right thing.
"are you seeing anyone?"
"no." a grin splayed across y/n's face, one that was only ever reserved for wonyoung. "i'm not."
jang wonyoung would wait forever. she would wait for the perfect time, sitting idly in the corner of the room. she'd count the seconds as they go by, watching as each hand moved at a snail's pace, but a pace nonetheless.
"good."
l/n y/n couldn't wait. she couldn't sit by and let nature take its course. she could prevent earthquakes and hurricanes if it meant protecting wonyoung. she'd move planets, shapeshift, become someone new... someone better.
"good?"
wonyoung stood up, her hand trembling. she reached out to her y/n, offering a hand. she couldn't keep waiting forever, and she knew y/n couldn't be the only one changing for rest of eternity.
(wonyoung was too grown to keep being an idiot, anyway.)
"dance with me, y/nnie?"
love.
it was still there.
"gladly."
THE END.
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masterlist
taglist (CLOSED)!!
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