AITA for making out with my boyfriend when we're alone?
This is so stupid and I am so angry but ok
My (25M) boyfriend (26M, J) was over the other day to hang out and watch a movie with me. We were cuddled up on the couch under a blanket and I was lying next to him (wide couch, fucking rules). I was getting a bit bored of the movie and I hadn't seen him for a while, so we started making out.
I have a roommate, S (30M), who was at work at the time. S is romance and sex repulsed, so to accommodate him, I try to keep J and I's PDA to a minimum around him. He gets pissed off at the tamest of things, like hand-holding or cuddling. I think it's my right to be as affectionate with my partner as I want as long as it's appropriate, but I'm tired of arguing with S.
Anyway, I specifically waited til S wasn't home to invite J over. I wasn't planning on going any further than kissing him, and if I was gonna go further, I wasn't going to do it in a communal space. We would have moved to my bedroom.
Well S came home from work early and he found me and J like that. He started freaking out, saying we were disgusting and that he was sick of living with me, shit like that. Eventually J started defending me, which escalated into a (verbal) fight, ending in J admitting to me that he was sick of having to walk on eggshells around S and he wasn't gonna come over anymore. He left, and I blew up at S. I said some things I regret, like calling him a prude, which I know wasn't cool, but I was too angry to care.
Eventually S told me that the reason why he freaked out is because he thought at first that we were fucking. Blanket was covering us so I can understand that, but he said we still shouldn't be "inappropriate" in the living area. I don't think we were, but he's not backing down. I definitely think that some of this is due to the fact that he just doesn't really like J and never has for reasons he won't tell me.
AITA here?
What are these acronyms?
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LAZY (SICKLY) MORNINGS AND MARRIAGE PROPOSALS, q. hughes
word count | 577 words
pairings | quinn hughes x reader
summary | where a common cold turns to the flu leaving quinn and his girlfriend to cancel their plans, leading to a lazy (sickly) valentines morning and a marriage proposal
warnings | descriptions of vomit and other sickly bodily fluids. not proofread. no use of “y/n”. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.
a/n | i was gonna post this for valentine’s day but never actually got around to writing it lmao, but here it is now!
a groan filled the silent room, followed by someone hurriedly throwing the blanket off of them and running to the bathroom. the sound of heaving could be heard as the other person rolled out of bed and hurried to the bathroom to help.
quinn rubbed her back with one hand, the other making a makeshift ponytail with her hair as she vomited what little of what remained in her stomach. she sat back against the wall once she had finished, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“you okay?” she shook her head no at quinn’s question, fearful if she spoke she would begin to heave once more. “let me get you some water.”
she rarely got sick, but when she did it was bad. she gratefully accepted the glass, sipping lightly. it eased the burning in her throat enough for her to speak, “you really shouldn’t be by me, quinny. the team can’t have their captain out sick.” she coughed roughly, trying to clear the flem from her throat.
“i’ve already told you: they can handle a game or two without me. i want to make sure you're okay.” he tried to conceal his own cough as him just clearing his throat, but she knew.
“damnit, i knew you would get sick. i told you!” she tried to come off as angry but she was too tired to portray an emotion she didn’t actually feel. quinn helped her off the ground, the two moseying their way back to bed. she sighed contently when her head hit the soft pillow, shivering slightly as she curled into the blankets. she began to shiver more as quinn got settled, unable to find warmth.
“cold?” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. she moved as close as she physically could, in search of warmth from him. she hummed as she settled in his arms, her boyfriend placing a gentle kiss on her head. “well, this is one way to spend valentine’s day.”
“don’t remind me.” she muttered, turning slightly to look at him. “i’m sorry i’m sick. i know how hard it was to get that reservation and you got me that nice dress and–” quinn shushed her quietly, placing yet another kiss, this time on her shoulder.
“don’t worry about it.” she turned over fully to face him. “it does have me thinking though.”
“yeah?” quinn smiled softly at her. “about what?”
“about how i want to spend the rest of my life with you, ya know, through sickness and health and all that shit.” she giggled, a hint of confusion on her face. they had talked about marriage and family but she had thought he wasn’t ready.
“what are you saying?”
“i guess i’m saying– well asking, will you marry me?” she felt the oxygen leave her lungs for a moment, before a smile broke out on her face.
“hell yeah,” she watched him smile widely. “god, i love you.”
“i love you so much, baby, so goddamn much.” quinn leaned in to kiss her, only to be stopped by her placing her finger on his lips.
“you can kiss me after i brush my teeth.” quinn pouted, earning a small giggle before she paled. “fuck.” she rolled out of his grasp, getting up and taking off toward the bathroom once more. it may not have been the most conventional way of proposing but neither party would have it any other way.
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Heyyyy oh my gosh I love your work so much, I was wondering if I could request a Pedri where he forgets about his plans with her and she was always understanding but with this being the fifth time, she’s over it and confronts him? Angst please!
All I ever asked — Pedri Gonzalez.
Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x Fem!Reader
Summary: He was late. For the fifth time that month. You’d waited in the restaurant for an hour and a half, coming up with flimsy excuses as to why your boyfriend hadn’t arrived, come to find out, he was sitting at home. The whole time. You’d had enough. Arriving home exhausted and upset, you can’t help but ask the question you’d been wondering for a while. “Do you even care?”
Disclaimer/s: angst to comfort , but thats pretty much it! oh and lots of cursing..
A/N: men (forehead slap)
Leaving the restaurant, you felt embarrassed. Humiliated, even. The waitress had given you the most pitiful look as you excused yourself, leaving her a tip and apologizing profusely.
You’d finally gotten home exhausted and angry. Your heels had dug themselves into your feet, leaving a throbbing ache even as you took them off. Holding them by the tips of your fingers, you trudged your way to your bedroom.
Opening the door, your eyes land on Pedri, who was sitting comfortably in bed on his phone. Was this a sick joke?
“Hey baby—“ his voice trails off, eyes scanning your outfit curiously, “where were you?”
You scoff. This had to be a joke. “Oh, just at the restaurant, waiting for you. Because, well! We had a fucking date tonight.”
Pedri’s smile falls instantly, “oh fuck.” He mumbles, throwing the comforter off him as he moves to stand, but you raise a hand, stopping him. “Shit, i’m sorry—“
“Save your fucking apologies, Pedro.” You snap, tossing your heels off to the side before opening the closet to fish out some pajamas. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. Like seriously, five times in one month? Are you actually fucking kidding me.” You begin rambling off, angrily shuffling through the drawers.
Letting out an anger filled noise, you slam the drawer shut. You’d forgotten today was laundry day, so your favorite pajamas, the ones you’d been dying to change into the whole ride home, were in the washer.
Pedri watches nervously as you angrily look through the closet. He’d been so busy lately, every date you’d reminded him off, had slipped his mind. There was no excuse, he knew it. And you’d been so understanding, but tonight he knew he really fucked up.
“And! To make it worse, do you fucking know what day it is? How special of a date this is supposed to be?” You whip around, pointing a finger at him.
Your anniversary.
Pedri groans inwardly. He was such an idiot. “I’m sorry, I don’t how it slipped my mind—“
“Our anniversary, ‘slipped your mind?’” You make air quotes around it, your eyes rolling. “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
Eyebrows furrowing, Pedri stands from the bed. “Hey—that’s..” but he stops. He knew you’d need your space, but kicking him out of bed? Seriously?
“That’s what? What Pedro.” Your jaw tightens, using his full name just to show how pissed off you really were.
“Stop calling me that,” he sighs, taking a few steps toward you, “i’ll make it up to you.”
“Good fucking luck.” You laugh, although it’s full of spite, not humor. “You’re a real fucking dick, you know that? Four dates, and our anniversary. All forgotten. For why? I get you are busy, but am I seriously that forgettable? Do you even care?”
You seemed to have struck a nerve, because Pedri’s face hardens. “You know you aren’t, and you know I do. I—“ he closes his eyes, running a hand over it, “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry, i’m sorry.”
Your lips purse and you grab a T-shirt off the rack, “whatever. I’m tired, I need to shower, and I want to go to bed. We will talk tomorrow.” You laugh, “oh, unless you forget about that too.”
Pedri says your name, almost hisses it. “I know you’re upset, but seriously? I’m trying here. It’s been a busy month, and I know that’s no excuse—but can we just talk about this like adults?”
Eyes widening, your face contorts, eye twitching. “You are such a—a man! You—“ Your voice cracks, but you suck in a long breath. You will not cry. “All I ever asked of you this whole month, is that you take me on a date.”
Pedri’s face softens and he takes the final few steps toward you, pulling you close to his chest with one hand on your lower back, the other holding your head near his heart. “I’m sorry, i’m being a dick—I am a dick.” He murmurs, placing light kisses to the top of your head.
“I love you.” He sighs out, “I love you. I—“
“I fucking get it.” You huff, eyes closing as you listen intently to his heart beat, the soft, rhythmic thumping calming you down. “You owe me big time.”
“Whatever you want, it’s yours.” He smiles, hands coming up to hold your face, “anything you want, i’ll give you. Just know, I am sorry.”
You pout, nodding. “Let’s start with you switching the loads while I shower, you’re on laundry duty for the next two months. And dishes, and cooking, and—“
“Got it! I got it!” Pedri chuckles, leaning down to place a small kiss to your lips, “i,” peck, “love,” peck, “you.” peck.
You try not to smile, you try to stay mad, you deserved to be mad. But you fail. Your cheeks pressing into Pedri’s callused palms with how wide you were smiling. “You make it so hard to be upset.”
He hums, kissing your forehead. “Good for me, honestly.”
“Whatever, i’m still pissed off. You’re lucky I love you.” You grumble, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
“The luckiest man alive.” He agrees, squeezing you thightly. “So..” He really shouldn’t push this right now.. but he has to ask, “do I still have to sleep on the couch tonight?”
“Oh, well, yes! You’re not getting out of this unpunished.” You pull away, bopping his nose with your finger before skipping toward the bathroom.
DTS , @halfwayhearted !
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