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watchmegetobsessed · 9 days

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SOFT LAUNCH

A/N: luckily i actually wrote this concept for once lol

WORD COUNT: 2k

SUMMARY: You officially soft launch your relationship.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Your usual barely changed when your relationship with Harry moved from a friendship to a romantic relationship. Well, at least your public usual.

Because in the privacy of your home or when around you it’s strictly the people you trust, a lot changed. The kisses, the touches, the looks, it’s obvious just how hard you fell in love with each other and your friends often tease the two of you for being great actors for hiding all of these the moment you step out into the public. Very early into your relationship the two of you agreed to keep it as private as possible, so the world didn’t see a single thing of how you eased from being friends into becoming a couple.

Spotting you out and about together wasn’t a new thing, you’d been friends for a while before you finally took everything down another road, there were plenty of pictures of the two of you grabbing lunch or coffee, hanging out with friends or even attending events. The moment you were spotted for the first time rumors started spreading that you might be an item, but with time they died down and back then, they weren’t true. But what people didn’t see was the shift that happened behind all those simply friendly pictures, how you both fell for each other and your love blossomed steadily and undeniably behind the scenes while everyone else started to accept that you are nothing more than good friends.

There were photos, still, but what the tabloids didn’t see was the kiss you shared the moment you were behind closed doors.

It’s been over ten months and you’re definitely over that first phase where all you can see is the pink clouds, no one around you is questioning if this is just a fling, it’s quite clear you are planning your future together.

There is a downside of keeping your relationship in the shadows however, a kind of freedom is taken away that’s given for everyone else. Date nights have been restricted to your or Harry’s place, if you wanted to go out somewhere you always needed extra people around you so it wouldn’t look romantic. You haven’t been able to go on a vacation, just the two of you, because it would draw suspicion, so it’s been always with others, friends and family. You can’t set your favorite photo of him as your lockscreen, because fans are always quick to spot him in the tiniest details.

It’s not that you want to post about him day and night, that’s not your style, never was, you like to keep things private, it might be selfishness or consciousness, doesn’t matter. But some days it would be nice to hold his hand as you walk down the street, share a reassuring kiss as you wait in line at the coffee shop or share a photo to your Instagram that features him and only him.

So it’s been lingering in the back of your head, the thought of being just the tiniest bit more public, allowing yourself to enjoy your love outside of the comfort of your home.

This is what your mind is racing about as you watch Harry move around the room. The warm Italian sun is peeking through the curtains, calling your name for another wonderful day, exploring Rome. The white, rippled sheets are snaked around your body comfortably, the other half of the bed is still warm from his body. You’re currently residing in a villa that’s hidden enough from curious eyes to let you be yourself even in the backyard, not just inside.

You mindlessly scroll through your photos from yesterday while Harry is showering and when he appears with a towel wrapped around his hips, hair still damp, water drops running down his chest as he is scratching his jawline and you already know what his question will be. He stops at the end of the bed and opens his mouth, but you’re quicker.

“Do you think I should shave it?” you ask, imitating his voice by lowering yours. He gives you a cheeky look.

“Well, should I?”

“Told you, I love you both ways.”

“Okay, but you surely have a preference,” he pushes.

Sighing, you sink deeper into the pillow, keeping eye contact with him.

“The stache is… always more than welcomed.”

He chuckles and then walks back in. When he emerges a minute later he is dressed and his facial hair is still the same.

“Up, up! We have a lot to see today!” He reaches under the covers and easily finds your leg, wrapping his hand around your ankle he tugs on you gently, to which you just grunt at him disapprovingly.

“Just five more minutes!”

“Come on, don’t you want to explore more?”

“Yeah, but I also want to sleep more.”

“Think of all the pasta and pizza we could be eating right now…” He barely even finishes, you’re already jumping out of bed, sprinting towards the bathroom. Harry just chuckles.

A couple of hours later your little group is grazing the streets of Rome again. You haven’t planned anything major for today, just exploring and having a relaxing time. To be honest, your feet are thankful for a slower day, you feel like you’ve walked around the world these past couple of days.

Sometime after lunch, your group breaks up. Some want to go souvenir shopping, others want to go back to the villa while you and Harry plan to check out a hidden little park you read about online. So now it’s just the two of you strolling down the streets and as you listen to Harry talk, all you can think about is how your hands are hanging by your sides, sometimes even brush against each other, but you can’t hold his.

When you find a great spot with amazing view of the city you instantly want to take a picture together, one where Harry is hugging you from behind, the panoramic view of the city in the background, you can already see the picture in your mind and you also think of a place in your home where it would look amazing framed.

But you know you can’t take a photo like that, you can sense how a few girls recognized the two of you, now they are a few feet away, pretending like they are just casually taking videos, but you know they are recording you and Harry, so you can’t risk it.

Instead, you both just take pictures of each other, staying as friendly as possible. Your phone is still in your hand when the girls come up to Harry at last, starting a chit chat with him and asking for photos that you end up taking of them of course. They thank his time politely and the two of you move on.

When you’re lying in bed at the end of the day you’re scrolling through your gallery, smiling to yourself at some of the candid pictures you’ve snapped of Harry today. These are your favorite, when he is just being himself and you catch a glimpse of his true essence, keeping it forever in that frame.

Then you find a photo you took probably accidentally when the girls approached you earlier. You must have snapped it when you were putting away your phone, it features Harry standing on the cobblestone, but only his feet and his tattooed arm is shown, his skin is a warm tanned color from being out in the Sun so much lately, his tattoos look so cool, you always loved the edge they give him. It’s also such a candid picture and for some reason you just love it so much, it’s exactly the kind of photo you’d post on your Instagram story.

The door to the bedroom opens and Harry walks in with two bottles of water in his hands, he places one to your nightstand before he joins you in bed, opening his.

“Why are you staring at a photo of my… arm?” he asks with a chuckle, when he sees what you have open on your screen.

“You have a nice arm,” you grin up at him. “I just… like this photo,” you add with a shrug.

Harry hums, but doesn’t really get stuck on the topic. He turns his attention to his own phone, sneaking one arm under your head, pulling you closer to cuddle him. But you’re still stuck on the photo and all the feelings and thoughts you’ve been struggling with.

“H?” you finally lift your head to look at him.

“Yes baby?”

“Have you ever thought of… being a bit more public? About us?”

He locks his phone and puts it aside to give you his undivided attention. He never fails to make you feel like his number one priority.

“I have, yeah.”

“And what do you think if we just… went for it? What if we just stopped hiding.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I just… I would love to act like a couple more, not just when we’re alone, behind closed doors. I’m not saying we should make out on the street, but… Holding hands, a few tiny kisses, these would be nice.”

Harry stays silent and you grow nervous that he might see it all entirely differently. You know it better than anyone else that Harry values his privacy highly, however he is not the most private public figure either, that’s also fact.

His gaze finds yours and slowly, you notice a tiny smile hiding in the corners of his mouth.

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, I’m okay with that as well.”

“Really?” You let out a relieved breath as you sit up in surprise. He chuckles.

“Of course. I just wanted to protect you. And I will still be doing that, but if you feel like you’re okay with being a couple for the rest of the world as well, then let’s do that.”

At first you pout at him, touched at how calm and supportive he is about the whole thing, then you just throw yourself at him, kissing him stupid.

“So then can I soft launch you?” you ask against his lips.

“What?” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Soft launch. I want to post this picture,” you say holding up your phone again, showing him the photo from earlier, “on my Instagram story. Your face is not shown, but everyone will know it’s you. That’s a soft launch, posting a suspicious but not straight forward picture of your partner.”

“Okay, Miss Urban Dictionary,” he laughs, his hand cupping the back of your head to bring you down for another kiss.

Cuddling to his side you open Instagram and then put the line ‘LOVE-ly day in Rome’ between his tattoos so it’s not quite what you notice at first, but it definitely catches your attention if you look at the photo for a few more seconds.

“How do you like it?” you ask, showing him your phone.

“The best soft launch of history,” he teases you before you finally post it.

Then you watch what happens together. Though you don’t have as many followers as Harry does, a lot of his fans engage with your social media profiles as well, hoping to get some content from you as well. Just a few minutes later the photo starts spreading across the internet of course, it reaches Twitter, Tiktok and other platforms, the reactions are mixed and pretty much all over the place, some aren’t the nicest, but Harry is quick to remind you just how much he loves you.

When you both put your phones away, shutting the rest of the world out, you’re lying in bed, facing each other, your hands laced together between the two of you.

“Now it’s out there,” you whisper.

“Softly,” he jokes and you just roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Is hard launch a thing as well?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s that like?”

“Well, it has to feature your pretty face, preferably in a romantic setting.”

“Will we also be doing that?”

“Hmm… maybe.”

“Okay,” he smiles warmly. “But soft or hard, I will always love you.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

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sluttywoozi · 5 months

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Something In The Midnight Hours

Rating: T | WC: ~ 4.0k | Pairing: Lee Chan x F!Reader | Genre: besties to lovers, fake relationship, rom com, fluff

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend at my New Year’s Eve work party.”

“There better be an open bar. And I’m not kissing you at midnight.”

“Deal.”

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, kissing

Lee Chan is fucked.

That’s the only way to describe his current situation. He’s fucked.

Royally, epically, astronomically.

All because of one offhand comment he made six months ago about you being his girlfriend, back when he was still trying to fit into the company.

Now here he is on his couch, staring at the email invite to the New Year’s Eve party and trying not to freak out, his eyes glued to the subject line.

BRING HER OR YOU’RE FIRED (JK (OR ARE WE))

He sets his phone down on the coffee table and covers his face with his hands, his palms pressing into his eyes to stave off the growing headache as he goes over options in his head.

1. He says you broke up.

This is obviously the worst option, both because the thought of you not being around makes him tear up and because then he’d have to stop talking about you, which is virtually impossible for him.

2. He goes and doesn’t bring you.

This is the second worst option as it would open him up to relentless teasing and might also result in his expulsion from the company, neither of which he would like to happen.

3. He begs you to pretend to be his girlfriend and you go together.

This is the craziest option, but it’s also the most viable. Sure, you’ve been best friends since you were kids, and sure, he’s almost certain you’re not into him like that, and sure, you’re a terrible liar, but all of that can be overcome! Right?

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend at my New Year’s Eve work party.”

You stare at him blankly, your face unreadable for once, as he explains the situation. You haven’t stopped him at all and it’s like he can’t stop talking, the words just flowing out of him like water through a strainer.

“Everyone had a partner, literally everyone, and I was as single as could be, so when Wonwoo asked who my lockscreen was, I might have said you were my girlfriend. And I might have updated my desktop to be a picture of us together at that carnival last year. And I might have continued to lie about it every day since.”

You nod slowly, your eyes narrowed at him in skepticism, before tilting your head and saying, “And telling the truth is out of the question because…?”

“Because they would roast me alive,” he scream-whispers dramatically, imploring you with his eyes to understand his plight.

“They would, wouldn’t they?” You murmur pensively, fully knowledgeable of how often he’s under fire just for being the youngest in the office.

He nods emphatically, latching onto your kind, protective side and hoping it’ll carry him through this.

“They would be so mean to me, Y/n. Please don’t let that happen,” he hates being manipulative but at least he knows you can see right through it, your years of friendship making you familiar with all his tricks.

“Ugh! Fine!” You throw your hands up and roll your eyes, stifling your smile when he hollers in grateful joy and tugs you into his arms.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“There better be an open bar. And I’m not kissing you at midnight.”

“Deal.”

It hits him when the uber is on the way to the hotel, what he’s gotten himself (and you) into. Not only is this the first merging of his work life and social life, but you and him will have to pretend to be a couple until the party is over.

You’ll probably have to hold hands and smile at each other lovingly and, fuck, you’ll have to disappear before midnight because you already said he can’t kiss you and it’ll be suspicious as all hell if he doesn’t lay one on you when the ball drops. Even worse, you’re barely even affectionate as best friends - you don’t cuddle, you don’t hug, you even sit at opposite ends of the couch for movie night.

He doesn’t know why, all he knows is that it’s been this way since you first met. The most you ever touch him is to ruffle then fix his hair, or pat him on the back when he’s sad, or pinch his cheek and call him a baby even though you’re only seven months older than him. It’ll be awkward to have so much physical contact with you, to interact with you like a boyfriend does.

He’s a little… excited, though. It’s exciting to think about all of the guys finally meeting you after six months of him telling story after story. It’s exciting to go to his first ever corporate party, and to have you experience it with him. It’s exciting to think about how the two of you will take full advantage of the open bar and likely giggle yourselves to death in some closet as the clock strikes midnight.

He can’t tell how you’re feeling beyond knowing you’re nervous. You keep playing with the hem of your dress, and you’ve been looking out the window this whole time, and you haven’t talked much since you got in the car, though he’s made multiple attempts to draw you into a conversation. He decides to make one more, hoping that he can distract you and help you relax before the car pulls up to the hotel.

“I really like this dress on you. I don’t think I’ve seen it before, is it new?”

You turn to him, your lips quirking in a smile as you smooth your hands over the champagne silk.

“It is! it’s been a while since I got something nice so I decided to splurge for the party.”

“You bought it for this?” He asks almost incredulously, endeared and grateful you wanted to put so much effort in. You don’t often buy new things as you’re saving up to put a down payment on a house, and before the night is over, he swears he’ll find out how much it costs and send you the full amount.

“Yeah? I wanted to look nice to meet all your colleagues,” you respond quietly, shrinking under your seatbelt as if you’re self conscious.

“And you do! You look beautiful,” he scrambles to dispel your anxiety, kicking himself for accidentally bringing attention to something you’re seemingly shy about. You smile brightly and straighten up, replying, “You look good too, I don’t remember this suit.”

“It’s a rental,” he confesses. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“So I can’t go up to one of your coworkers and say, ‘Hi, I’m Chan’s girlfriend, his suit is rented’? Darn.”

He’s too focused on you saying you’re his girlfriend to hear anything else, an unfamiliar fluttering starting up in his belly as he replays the words in his head. He hates to admit it, but he kind of likes the sound of them coming out of your mouth.

He gathers himself enough to respond, “You can say the first part but not the second.”

“Ahhh, so just, ‘Hi, I’m Chan’s girlfriend,’ then?” You quip back, grinning at him teasingly and reaching up to pinch his cheek. His hand catches yours before you get that far, and while he’d normally let go, he decides to keep holding on, tangling your fingers together and bringing your hand up to press a kiss to the back.

“What’s that for?” You ask shakily, your eyes darting between his face and your entwined hands.

“Practice,” he says innocently, fully aware that he’s freaking you out and loving it.

The uber pulls up to the hotel before you can answer, and Chan thanks them before rushing to get out of the car and running around it to open your door and offer you his arm. You climb out as gracefully as you can, a bit unsteady in your heels and clinging to him for stability as you cross through the sliding glass doors into the lobby.

It’s decorated for the holidays, warm string lights and fresh evergreen covering nearly every surface, and the sight of you spinning in a slow circle to take it all in makes his heart feel too big for his chest. The party is being held in one of the ballrooms, the fanciest one, he was told, and he can’t wait to see your face when you set eyes on the opulence of it all.

He needs to find it first, and he exhales a sigh of relief when he spots his company’s name printed on signs leading into a grand hallway. He points so you see them too, leading you over and consciously slowing his steps so you don’t have to work to keep up with him.

You’re letting out oohs and ahhs as you walk, your eyes catching on every shiny statue and gilded candelabra occupying the hall. Chan can’t hold back the grin, he’s always loved to see how you appreciate your surroundings, and he’s so happy he gets to watch you experience this beautiful place.

The signs lead to a palatial set of doors, the party in full swing and audible behind them, and he stops you before you can reach for one, pulling you to the side and setting his hands on your shoulders.

“Listen, I know you’re not good at lying, but I don’t want you to be stressed tonight, so just follow my lead and don’t worry too much, okay?” He says in his most reassuring tone of voice, gazing into your eyes and waiting for you to square your shoulders and say, “Okay. And I’m great at lying.”

Literally everything betrays you, the expression on your face, your tense body, the way you’re suddenly avoiding his eyes.

“Sure, baby. Sure,” he agrees amicably, nodding and taking hold of your hand again.

He’s never called you that before, only ever refers to you by your name or stinky (you are the greatest smelling person he knows and you’re both aware of that fact), but for a first test, he thinks it goes well.

Your hand squeezes his, your eyes get brighter, and the corner of your mouth scrunches up in a small, pleased smile. All signs point to you being not only alright with the pet name, but maybe even happy with it, and if he's being honest, for him it felt… easy. Right.

On that note, he tugs open the door with his free hand and follows you inside. You both stop short, stunned by the magnificence of the ballroom and the amount of faces that greet you. Chan knew he worked at a big company but there’s at least two hundred people here, and only a few that he recognizes.

They find you quickly, apparently watching the doors for your entrance and agreeing to immediately converge upon you before you can even grab a glass of Dom Perignon. It’s scary, almost, the sight of the twelve friends he’s made so far weaving through the crowd to reach you.

There��s nowhere to go, to run, to hide. He has no choice but to stand his ground and allow this to happen to him.

He glances over at you and feels some tension leave his body, knowing that no matter what, you’re here for him and you always will be. That’s what gets him through the next half hour, plus the champagne Jeonghan so considerately brought over. He makes introductions, laughs off the comments about how long it took him to finally bring you to a function, and bites the inside of his lip every time you have to answer a question.

You manage to tell the truth most of the time. Many of the questions are about you, who you are and what you do and, from Seungkwan, why you’re with Chan. You don’t have to lie until that last one, but he’s impressed by how quickly and smoothly you manage to answer.

It still makes him grin, thinking about what you said.

“Because he’s made me happy and taken care of me all my life. It just makes sense.”

They all softened at your response, and the conversation naturally deviated to their own partners, a few of which are in attendance tonight. He’s not sure why they’re not with his coworkers but he can’t complain about having less people to keep up with. It’s hard enough tracking a conversation between fourteen.

Eventually, everyone splits off into groups. You and Chan make your way to the bar with Soonyoung, Jun, and Minghao, the rest of his friends disappearing back into the well dressed masses. You’ve both finished your champagne and are ready for a real drink, and it’s shockingly easy to order them even with how crowded the bar is. Even Minghao is drinking tonight, likely because he doesn’t love crowds or parties, but regardless of the reason, he’s more happy and giggly and kind than normal and Chan is entirely delighted he gets to see him like this.

Jun and Soonyoung are already deep in their cups, and knowing them, they likely pregamed at the apartment they share, forgetting that drinks would be free all night. He just hopes they don’t embarrass themselves, and vows to himself that he’ll make sure they get cut off if they get too crazy. They did the same for him the first night he ever went out with his officemates, when he had a few too many and found himself troublesomely drunk, and he’ll return the favor if need be.

You seem to fit right in, your humor similar enough to theirs that you have them cracking up at every turn, and it’s not long before they’re begging you to spill all of Chan’s most embarrassing secrets. They seem nearly giddy with the prospect and you seem primed to share, and all he can do is tug you away, shouting, “See you later, we have to go!” over his shoulder as he makes his escape.

You and Chan finally get to take a breather on the balcony. The chilly night air stings but the view is gorgeous, the city lit up in reds and greens and bright, warm whites, the countdown displayed on a skyscraper across the way. There’s an hour and a half left till midnight, and Chan is starting to wonder if there even is an accessible closet in this hotel for you to hide in when the time comes.

Maybe you could sneak away to the bathroom, but you wouldn’t be together then and Chan wants to enter the new year with you by his side. There’s always the option of leaving before the ball drops, but everyone would wonder why and they might even be disappointed in him, which he’d like to prevent if possible.

The consternation must be clear on his face because you reach up to smooth away the wrinkle between his eyebrows and ask gently, “What’s wrong?”

He sighs and takes your hand, swinging it softly and playing with your fingers as he says, “I’m trying to figure out what we should do at midnight.”

“What do you mean?” You sound confused, as if you think there’s nothing to figure out.

“Well, you said I can't kiss you but it would be suspicious if we didn’t, so I’m trying to think of where we could go to get out of it.”

“Oh, about that, I’ve been thinking-”

“So this is where you snuck off to,” Seungkwan calls from the doorway, with a mischievous smile on his face and Vernon in tow.

“Just needed some fresh air,” Chan pastes on a smile but internally he’s screaming, raging at them for interrupting you when he thinks you might have been about to say something important.

Of course, everything you say is important to him, but if he’s following the vein of logic, it’s possible you were going to say he can, in fact, kiss you at midnight, which would honestly rock his world. Both in the life-altering sense and in the wow this is so amazing sense, because, he has to admit, he can’t stop thinking about it.

When you take a sip of champagne, he’s watching your lips pucker around the edge of the flute. When you’re speaking, he’s thinking about tasting your words. Even when you’re not doing anything, his thoughts are occupied with what it might be like to feel your lips pressed against his and your body in his arms (and don’t get him started about your body, especially in this dress).

He knows that’s not something normal best friends think about, but you’ve always been more than a best friend to him. You’re everything to him, and he’s beginning to think you might even be it for him. You fill so many roles in his life: friend, confidante, protector. Why couldn’t you pick up one more?

It could all be so simple, so neat, and all of those well-meaning but embarrassing inquiries about when you two would finally get together could finally be answered. He thinks the transition would be easy, you seem to have no qualms touching him and being affectionate now, and he’s definitely finding it easy to reciprocate.

Fuck, but he has no clue how you feel. You’re chatting with Seungkwan while Vernon nods and laughs at the appropriate moments, and he’s thankful you noticed he was elsewhere mentally and took over the conversation. He doesn’t want to seem too deep in thought, but it’s difficult not to be when he’s having the startling realization that he doesn’t want this relationship to be fake, that he actually wants to date his best friend.

Shit, it’s an hour and fifteen minutes now, and Chan’s no closer to knowing what to do. He might even be further away, might be even more confused with the added layer of knowing he absolutely wants to kiss you.

Vernon and Seungkwan excuse themselves to grab more champagne and he takes the opportunity to pull you to one of the darker corners of the balcony lest his other coworkers discover your location. He needs to talk about this with you, now.

It’s just not normal or right for him to hide things from you, the biggest thing he’s actually ever kept being that he told his office you were his girlfriend. He’s not positive he’s ready to lay it all out though, especially when he’s not sure where you’re at.

“What were you going to say before?” He asks urgently, taking hold of your other hand and holding both of them tight.

“Ummm, I don’t remember,” you lie, so very obviously, and this time he’s not going to let you get away with it.

“Yes, you do. Please tell me, I need to know.”

You squint at him in scrutiny, your mouth bunching to the side, and let out a big breath before speaking.

“I was going to say that I’ve been thinking about it a lot and… I think you should kiss me at midnight,” you say, looking away from him and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in your dress.

“A lot, you say?” He jokes, only because he knows it’ll make you feel annoyed instead of nervous.

Predictably, you roll your eyes and scoff, “Of course that’s what you focus on.”

He lets out an easy laugh, tugging you closer with his grip on your hands and leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

“What was that for?”

“Practice.”

His lips touch your other cheek softly. He can feel it heat up and breaks into a fond smile, his hands squeezing yours as you breathe, “And that?”

“More practice. And maybe I couldn’t wait until midnight to kiss you at least a little.”

Your eyes dart to his and he catches a flash of vulnerability before you grin it away and glance over your shoulder to check the time.

“Just forty five more minutes. Do you think you can make it?” You tease, and he feels his own cheeks flush as he realizes that you’re flirting with him. He likes it. Very much.

He grimaces, sucking in a breath through his teeth and shaking his head, “I don’t know, baby. I really don’t know.”

You just smile and push at his chest with your joint hands before asking, “Should we get some champagne?”

He’s barely tipsy, and he can tell you’re only a little buzzed, so he nods and lets you go, only to offer you his arm. He escorts you to the table of glasses, taking one and offering it to you before grabbing one for himself. You hold your glass up and he clinks it with his, taking a sip and looking around the room.

He spots some of his friends but they’re all engaged in conversations, which is fine with Chan, honestly. He’s enjoying this time with you, and he’s not ready to share again.

You pass the next half hour warming up and people watching, waving to his friends when they spot you and narrowly escaping before they start to make their way over. He feels a little bad about avoiding them, but he doubts you want to kiss him for the first time in front of everyone. He needs to find somewhere with a little privacy, looking around for a corner or…

Or the giant ass column behind you. It’s perfect, still in the ballroom but secluded enough it’ll almost be like it’s just the two of you. He takes your hand again and gently pulls you over, situating you so your back is to the stone just as the ballroom starts to spark with energy. It’s only a few minutes to midnight now, and Chan can already feel his heart racing just at the thought of what that means.

You seem similarly affected, your lip bitten in nervousness but your eyes full of anticipation. He takes a step into your space and lifts his hand to cup your cheek, murmuring, “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you nod, tilting your face into his hand and covering it with yours. A hush comes over the ballroom before the counting begins, and you join in unison as he starts leaning in, “Five, four, three, two, one.”

One is whispered against your lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he presses his mouth to yours. You taste like champagne and lip gloss and possibilities, and even though other kisses end and cheers erupt, Chan can’t make himself stop kissing you.

Eventually, it starts to veer into indecent territory, with wandering hands and seeking tongues and sounds not fit for public consumption. He forces himself to pull away, smirking slightly at the way you try to follow him before your eyes blink open. There’s a bright glint to them, and before he knows it, you’re both falling into each other and struggling to contain your giggles.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you whisper through your smile.

“Me neither,” he laughs. “Our moms will be so happy.”

“I bet our dads placed bets,” you murmur, winding your arm around his neck and pulling him into a hug. “Happy New Year, Chan.”

He lets go of your cheek to hug you back, his hand still wrapped up tightly in yours.

“Happy New Year, Y/n.”

You’re dozing against Chan in the uber when his phone buzzes in his suit pocket. He opens it to find a message from Wonwoo, one containing three pictures that make Chan’s heart beat so hard he’s scared it’ll wake you up.

The first is just before he kissed you; you’re staring at him with brand new eyes, and he’s gazing at you with obvious infatuation.

The second must be just after midnight, he’s still kissing you but he’s got a hand dangerously low on your back and you’ve got one in his hair.

The third is when you both collapsed into laughter, and he smiles at the joyful tears in your eyes and matching beaming grins before making it his lockscreen.

He’s not sure why Wonwoo was taking pictures of him instead of kissing his wife, but he’s forever grateful, and he tells Wonwoo just that. These are photographs he’ll treasure for the rest of his life, because they document the start of something great, something real, something he hopes will last forever.

He can’t wait to print them out, they’ll look perfect on your wall (your apartment is nicer than his and he’ll be moving in as soon as you say the word).

AN: Happy almost new year!! ily all 💖 i wish you light and blessings 💫

My Masterlist

#lee chan fanfic #lee chan x reader #lee chan fluff #lee chan imagines #lee chan x you #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #kpop imagine #kpop oneshots #✨emily writes✨

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scuderiahoney · 2 months

Text

a hockey au social media au / mini blurb

notes: this is my very first social media au! thank you so much to @theemporium for making the notification lockscreen for me, and @lightsoutletsgo for smau inspiration, tips, and encouragement! bunnyrabb1t is y/n’s instagram! think that’s all!

bunnyrabb1t

liked by maxverstappen33, oscarpiastri and 56 others

bunnyrabb1t fall semester: ✔️

landonorris why

landonorris I look like a 5 year old on the first day of school

bunnyrabb1t the smartest 5 year old!!!

maxverstappen33 we are so proud of you son

landonorris I hate it here

charles_leclerc officially on bunny’s instagrammmm ✔️

carlossainz55 … where?

charles_leclerc on the ice!

carlossainz55 not sure that counts cabron

lilymhe the collage!! new project?

bunnyrabb1t maybeeeee

oscarpiastri great semester!

oscarpiastri cool pics!

oscarpiastri & a great grade in physics to top it off!

bunnyrabb1t look at us go!

landonorris

liked by bunnyrabb1t, maxverstappen33 and 221 others

landonorris mood

maxverstappen33 mood

charles_leclerc mood

carlossainz55 mood

alex_albon moon

georgerussell63 *mood

alex_albon fuck off

bunnyrabb1t mood???

landonorris why so unsure?

oscarpiastri she doesn’t play hockey, she will never understand

bunnyrabb1t i hate it here

The second he sees the notification that the grade has been posted, he texts you. He types and deletes and retypes the message at least a billion times. When he finally sends it, his heart is pounding harshly in his chest. He stares at the screen of his phone until his eyes burn. When it starts to buzz in his hand, he nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Hi,” he answers, hoping he sounds normal.

“Hey, Osc- is everything okay?” You ask, voice full of concern.

“Yeah, no, everything is fine,” he says, clearing his throat. “Sorry to bug you. I just saw that they posted the final grades for physics.”

You make a noise of distress, and he smiles softly at the sound. “Oh, god.”

“Thought we could check together?” He suggests, cringing at the way he says it and the idea itself. “I don’t know, I just thought maybe-“

“That would be really nice, actually,” you say, letting out a slow breath. “Let me go find my laptop, hold on.”

He waits on the line. He can hear you shuffling around in what’s probably your parent’s house. He wonders if you have a dog, or any pets. He’s never asked. He thinks of his family dog at home, who is staying with the dog sitter while his family visits him in the US this year, and something about that makes his chest hurt.

“Okay, I’ve got it, opening it now,” you say. “How’s your break been?”

He turns back to his own laptop on the desk. “It’s been good. Quiet, right now, because everyone’s at the hotel, but it’s been nice to have them here.”

“That’s awesome,” you say, sounding genuinely excited for him. “Got fun plans the next few days?”

“My mum makes the plans,” he replies, scrolling the wheel on his mouse absentmindedly. “I just roll with them.”

You laugh, and then he hears you sigh. “Okay. I’m logged in.”

“Ready?” He asks, quietly.

“No,” you sigh. “I don’t want to retake physics, Oscar.”

“You won’t have to,” he says, his cursor hovering over the View Final Grade button. “I know it.”

“Okay, okay, let’s just get it over with,” you say.

He wonders what you look like right now. He almost wishes he’d asked for a video call, because he finds that suddenly he misses seeing your face terribly. If he knows you well enough, you’re probably criss cross applesauce on the bed, lower lip pinched between your teeth, brows furrowed.

“Alright. Three, two, one…” he says.

He clicks the button. The screen lights up brighter, and he blinks. He’s got an A, no plus or minus, but it’s good enough. He’s happy about it. Then he hears you let out a long, slow breath, and his stomach sinks.

“What’s the verdict?” He asks, quietly.

You’re quiet for a few moments, and then you say, “B plus. Holy shit! I mean, I know it’s not an A but- I really thought I was going to fail-“

Oscar lets out a breath, then. “Fuck yeah! B plus is great!”

“A B plus means I don’t have to retake physics,” you say, and Oscar laughs.

“I knew you’d be fine,” he says, heading over to sit on his bed.

“Yeah, yeah, you told me so.” You say. “Couldn’t have done it without you, y’know.”

He flops onto his back on the bed, feeling his cheeks go red. Maybe it is for the best that it’s not a video call. “Yeah, you could’ve,” he says. “But it was nice to have a study buddy.”

You laugh at that. He thinks he can almost hear you rolling your eyes. He feels the silence stretch on for a few seconds- it’s comfortable silence, but the reason he called is over now. He doesn’t want to hang up. He wants to keep talking.

“Got any fun plans?” He asks, and when you launch into your answer, he smiles.

The conversation goes on for nearly an hour, by the time it’s all said and done. He stares at his ceiling and listens to your voice, chiming in when he’s needed or when he has something to add. But mostly, it’s nice to just listen. He’s missed hearing what you’re up to.

When you hang up, it’s with a promise to talk soon. The beep of the call ending makes his heart feel just a little heavy. He falls asleep with his phone still in his hand, and hopes he wakes up to a notification from you.

bunnyrabb1t added to their story

landonorris replied to your story: safe flight!

bunnyrabb1t thanks lan!

maxverstappen33 replied to your story: just remember the plane is in pudding!

bunnyrabb1t jello, max. but thanks. see you soon!

oscarpiastri replied to your story: safe travels! headed back to campus?

bunnyrabb1t yes!

bunnyrabb1t if you’re free we should hang out tomorrow?

oscarpiastri I am so free and so bored

bunnyrabb1t good news i’m great at curing boredom

maxverstappen33 added to their story

landonorris replied to your story: reppin the team even on break that’s our girl!

maxverstappen33 she said “ew stop” 🤢

landonorris yeah. that tracks

oscarpiastri replied to your story: Can you guys hurry back with the snacks?

maxverstappen 🙄

bunnyrabb1t added to their story

oscarpiastri liked your story

alex_albon replied to your story: can I have my girlfriend back?

bunnyrabb1t hold on let me ask

bunnyrabb1t she says my cooking’s better. soz albono

alex_albon :(

maxverstappen33 replied to your story: no invite?? 😔

bunnyrabb1t max in what world is this something you want to be invited to

maxverstappen33 I made so many collages with you while you were injured 😔

bunnyrabb1t this is a vision board not a collage

maxverstappen33 they look similar to me 😔

bunnyrabb1t they’re different. but we can make one the next time i come over

maxverstappen33 😌

find part 4 here!

main taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5

series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @verstoppenheimer @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat t @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @avg-golden-retriever @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom

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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

Text

Pregnant II

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Pernille's pregnancy

During the first month, you're about the size of a poppy seed.

Pernille's fine on her own during this period. She has a little bit of spotting and feels a bit more tired than usual but she's mainly okay. Since the announcement, her teammates have been more careful on the pitch with her.

Everyone knows that the risk of miscarrying is higher before the third month so they all take care not to knock into her as much or, at least, to not hit her head on.

Magda, it seems, is the only one completely stressed out of her mind. She sends regular texts to check in with Pernille. She calls every day (once in the morning and once in the evening).

If she didn't have commitments in England then Pernille's sure that Magda would have flown over daily.

By the second month, you're the size of a kidney bean.

The symptoms have gotten a little worse by now. The tiredness has been replaced by sore breasts and the spotting by morning sickness. It's still manageable and Pernille doesn't even think to tell Magda until she misses a morning call in favour of hunching over the toilet and spewing out her guts.

"Her heart's developing now," Magda's voice comes through the phone, echoing around the tiled walls of Pernille's bathroom," And her brain too. Do you think she'll be smart? I think she'll be smart."

"We don't know if it's a girl yet, Magda," Pernille says. She's still leaning against the toilet but Magda's voice is safe and soothing.

"I know it's a girl," Magda replies, an air of finality in her tone," A little Pernille."

"She's your egg. She'll be a little Magda."

Pernille can hear the smile in Magda's voice as she replies," I made you admit she's a girl."

At the end of month three, you're the same size as a lime.

The morning sickness is extremely bad now and Magda even flies out when she hears from Nilla that Pernille had thrown up on the side of the pitch one morning.

"This brings back memories," Magda quips as she holds Pernille's hair back.

"Of what?"

"Crazy parties in our youth."

"We're still young, Magda. Becoming parents doesn't automatically make us old," Pernille sits up and takes the washcloth from her partner.

"Yeah, but we're more mature now. No more crazy parties and throwing up."

"None recently," Pernille corrects. She smiles for a moment before hunching over the toilet bowl again.

Magda rubs her back. "I've taken a few weeks off," She says," You keep getting sick."

"Magda-"

"No, I've already made my decision. International break is soon anyway. Our next match isn't too difficult. They don't really need me."

Pernille can't find it in herself to argue about it much, with the way that she sags against the wall and stays within arm's length of the toilet.

Magda kisses her stomach. "You're making your Momma sick," She says," You've got to leave her alone. You're still growing in there."

At month four, you're around the size of an avocado.

The morning sickness has stopped completely now but the soreness in her breasts doesn't subside at all.

It's completely coincidental when, one evening as she's changing her shirt, Pernille catches the sight of herself in the mirror.

She's got a baby bump now.

Instantly, her hand goes to touch it, as if she could feel exactly where you are.

She takes a picture and sends it to Magda.

She can see that it's been read but Magda doesn't reply for hours until finally...

MAGDA ❤️ you look so beautiful that's my new lockscreen

It's month five. You're the same length as a banana.

She could have found out earlier but Pernille waits until Magda can make the trip to find out your gender.

"A girl." Magda is still convinced as they sit in the waiting room, her hand stroking over Pernille's knuckles. "I know she's a girl."

"We'll see."

Pernille feels a bit vindictive so has the doctor write your gender on a scrap of paper, folds it up and hands it to Frido (who has come to visit).

"Huh?" Frido says as she looks down at the scunched-up ball of paper.

"You're in charge of that," Pernille says," Magda doesn't see it, she doesn't take it before the gender reveal."

"You guys are planning a gender reveal?"

Pernille shakes her head. "No. You are."

By month six, you're as big as an ear of corn.

You move around a lot now and Pernille never forgets the look on Magda's face when, one evening, Pernille grasps her hand and places it over her swollen stomach.

You kick almost every day and Pernille rubs her stomach softly as Frido hands her and Magda a knife.

"I bought cake," Frido proclaims," Because this is a celebration and you can't go wrong with cake."

Someone (Pernille's not sure who) on the Wolfsburg team rolls it out.

"If it's blue, it's a boy. If it's pink, it's a girl," Frido explains even though it really didn't need explaining. She's taking her role as future moster very seriously and it's slightly amusing.

"It'll be pink," Magda says," I know it will."

Frido rolls her eyes. "Then cut it. But...just wait until the camera's on. Okay! Ready? Ready!"

Magda's hand is warm around Pernille's, who is holding the knife in her own. They make two cuts into the cake, one after the other, and then pull out the slice.

"A girl," Pernille says softly, smiling as her team celebrates around her. She looks up at Magda, whose eyes are glistening with unshed tears.

"A girl."

Month seven and the only thing different is now you're the size of a large aubergine.

Her doctor has said that you can hear now so she spends countless nights with a pair of headphones on her stomach, playing voice notes Magda has sent throughout the day for you.

It's amusing. They're mostly nonsense, Magda just talking about her day and all the things she looks forward to doing with you but it's incredibly sweet and Pernille ends up crying every time.

Month eight comes around and now you're the same size as a cabbage.

Pernille's back aches more than ever and you enjoy sitting on her bladder so she has to take a bathroom break more often.

The highlight of the month comes when Magda comes over and lifts her bump, allowing Pernille to sag against her and feel slightly weightless for a little bit.

At month nine, you're the same as a head of lettuce.

She and Magda have been arguing over names for months now. There's a list pinned to the fridge and each of them takes a lot of pride in crossing out the other's suggestions in healthy competition.

Your last name is still up for debate too, as is your middle (but, somehow, Frido's gotten in on that action and has been texting Pernille suggestions for weeks now).

Pernille's having trouble getting to sleep too and you get more active than before. Rather than kicking though, it's your little fists thumping against her stomach (something that, many years in the future, she will tell Zećira was you foreshadowing).

Her doctor told her it was normal but it's still a bit disconcerting to see the tiny imprints of your even tinier fingers poking from the inside out.

By month ten (and Pernille hates that she's been lied to and pregnancy does not, in fact, end in the ninth month), you're the same size as a pumpkin.

She feels ready to pop but restless at the same time.

Magda's meant to be flying out later today but Pernille is in desperate need of some fresh air so she pulls on some clothes and gets herself ready to head to the Wolfsburg grounds.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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robinbuckleysfringe · 4 months

Text

you are in love.

tom blyth social media au

pairings: Jacob Elordi x reader, eventual Tom Blyth x reader

warnings: none

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*yninstagram has posted*

liked by tomblyth, Zendaya, jacobelordi, rachelzegler and others

yninstagram cats out the bag, can finally announce that I'm joining the cast of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. see you november 17th 😘🫶🏻🤭

View comments

jacobelordi proud of you ❤️

↪️ yninstagram love you ❤️

rachelzegler so happy that we can finally work together 💕💕

↪️ yninstagram dream come true 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

hunterschafer "cats out the bag" as if you didn't ring me straight after you found out 😂

↪️ yninstagram 😂 can't keep a secret to save my life 😂🤭🤐

↪️ zendaya you're almost as bad as @/tomholland2013 😂

↪️ yninstagram @/zendaya at least I'm yet to spoil a whole ass movie 😂

↪️ tomholland2013 keyword there being "yet" 😂. on a serious note, congrats on the new movie you absolute star ⭐️

↪️ yninstagram thanks Tom 🫶🏻💕

tomblyth bring on the press tour madness

↪️ yninstagram indeed 🫶🏻

user omg was already excited for this but am even more now I know you're in it!!

user so excited!!!

user YES YES YES!!!

user can't wait!! the cast for this movie is insane!!

user iconic that both you and Jacob have your movies out on the same day

↪️ user omg yes!! didn't realise that Jacob's film also comes out that day

↪️ yninstagram some might say we planned that on purpose (we didn't actually)

↪️ user imagine if you guys had tho 😍. Power couple

☆☆☆

*yninstagram has posted*

tagged jacobelordi & keoghan92

liked by florencepugh, jacobelordi, keoghan92, tomblyth and others

yninstagram Saltburn premiere with my love ❤️. so bloody proud of you @/jacobelordi, you Hollywood star ⭐️⭐️😘

View comments

jacobelordi love you, my darling ❤️ xx

↪️ yninstagram ❤️

rachelzegler fit 😍😍

↪️ yninstagram no you 🥰🥰🥰

hunterschafer endlessly proud of the both of you, you absolute gorgeous humans 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

↪️ yninstagram luv ya 💕

↪️ jacobelordi thanks Hunter x

user jacob calling her "my darling" 🥺🥺🥺 I can't!!!

user the cutest couple

user mum and dad for real!!!

user THE FIT??? UNREAL

user omg the bts pic of Jacob!!! 🥺🥺😍😍

↪️ yninstagram ikr!!! made it my lockscreen instantly

↪️ user you're so real for this!!!!

*yninstagram has posted*

☆☆☆

tagged jacobelordi, hunterschafer, rachelzegler, joshandresrivera and tomblyth

liked by tomholland2013, florencepugh, tomblyth, jacobelordi and others

yninstagram tbosas premiere with some of my favourite people 🕊🐍❤️

rachelzegler queen!!! 🫶🏻💕

jacobelordi stunning 😍

↪️ yninstagram 😘

hunterschafer love you!!! 💕

↪️ yninstagram love you more!!!!!!! 💕💕

tomblyth ❤️

↪️ yninstagram ❤️

user she's so pretty!!!

user can't wait to see the film!!!

user omg y/n and Jacob supporting each other at their premieres is the cutest!!!!

↪️ user love them so much

user she owned the red carpet 😍😍

↪️ rachelzegler for real!!!

↪️ user OMG RACHEL!!!

user mum and dad looking so in love in the last slide 🥰🥺

user mother is mothering

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

let me know if you want more parts to this. I'm slowly getting back into the world of writing.

feedback is always welcome x

#jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tbosbas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #rachel zegler #hunter schafer

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pavardscherie · 1 year

Text

― what i deserve ;; pablo gavi & pedri gonzalez ;; part one

⤷ pairing: pablo gavi x f!reader ;; pedri gonzalez x f!reader ⤷ summary: your relationship with gavi ended after he cheated on you. time has passed, pedri always checked up on you with small messages until he invited you to one of the home games. somewhere between losing your heart to pedri; gavi still attempts to get you back. ⤷ warnings: curse words ;; injuries ;; mentions of blood ;; hand around throat ;; explicit sex scenes ;; asshole!gavi ;; cheating ;; violence in fights ;; spanking ;; dom & sub ;; dirty talk ;; teasing ;; very deep feelings & conversations ;; slight triangle thing but not most of the time ;; second chances kinda ;; friends to lovers ;; not proofread & probably horrible written kiss scenes lol ⤷ izzy's notes: first part here we go! it took me so long tbh, but like, i swear i got distracted by pedri (& reading other's imagines about pedri lol). tell me what you think if you want!

Seven Months passed. Multiple calls turned into none. Messages vanished from your lockscreen, and for the first time, when you stared down at your phone, it seemed more like a blessing than torture. The reminders of an unhealthy relationship rested in the back of your mind, stopping the painful memories of being cheated on to resurface.

It’s been almost a month since you found yourself, enjoying casual football games again. Raised by a very determined father, who cheered from the couch or in the middle of the fans for his favorite club, he passed his knowledge to you before he became the beautiful picture in the settling sun.

Avoiding Camp Nou to increase the distance between you and your former boyfriend, the stadium pulled you back one day. It all started with a call, you never expected to receive. On the other side of the line, waited a nervous Pedri with an invitation to one of his home games. After the awful break up with Gavi, the friendship between you and his best friend crumbled quickly.

At least, once in a while, you received a short text message, asking about your well-being but after answering, you never received another. The game of two messages in a month lasted until the surprising call reached you and suddenly, Pedri found himself in your inbox almost each day.

And somehow, even after declining his invitation multiple times in a row, you ended up in the secluded section of the stands, reserved for family members and people close to the players. It was new to you to be treated like a special addition in someone’s life as Gavi never offered you such a seat.

Your little flag draped over the bouncing legs, the anxiety had you trembling. An empty stomach caused your chest to tighten, as your eyes skimmed across the still empty pitch. It would be the first time of seeing Gavi again, after checking his latest social media posts once in a while. Snapchat let you in on the multiple parties he visited over the past months; in each picture another girl with high hopes of feeling his undivided love wrapped around his biceps. It was pathetic in many ways, especially that you still shed a tear while staring at the photo, and compared yourself to the different types of women.

Gavi never really had a particular type. He just enjoyed the thought of having too many gush about him.

Loud music boomed through the stadium, the announcer’s voice mixed with the beat as he welcomed the fans of both teams. After a quick speech about the upcoming match, the team was shown on the large four screen on each side of Camp Nou.

Fans shouted the last names of the players, some louder and some swallowed by the warm air of the early summer day until two faces appeared. Number Thirty, Gavi. His face appeared on the screen, the pillow-like lips without a curl and the arms crossed. He still looked like the guy, you met over a year ago.

Yet, the fans were equally excited when Pedri’s number was shown. Black hair carefully brushed down, the ends of his strands scattered across the forehead and the arms crossed like Gavi had before.

Eyes glued to the screen in front of you, you paid no attention to the players, running onto the pitch in their pre-match jackets and warming up for exhausting ninety minutes without additional time. Discomfort replaced the emptiness, and you suddenly wanted nothing more than to stand up, and run out of Camp Nou — away from the upcoming confrontation, and seeing Gavi question Pedri’s intentions.

Nervously, your trembling fingers brushed the loose strands of hair out of the face, attempting to forget about the little voice in the back of your head — shouting at you to run as fast as you could. You were close to the field, almost too close for your liking as it seemed so easy to notice your attendance.

Maybe it was a mistake to show up; even after Pedri’s words turned into a sweet begging. You should have declined his attempts, should have watched the match from home and switching channels quickly when Gavi appeared on the screen. Same routine as the past year.

“I thought you would dodge.” A familiar, gentle voice demanded your attention, the source standing right in front of the stands. Your head snapped around, almost quick enough to tear a muscle, as you were faced with Pedri. A ball tightly in one hand, his lips curled into a sweet smile. Black strands styled upwards on the front, dressed in the Barcelona kit and a pre-match jacket, his eyes glued on you.

“I accepted; how could I dodge then?” Your elbow propped up on your knee to stop the nervous bouncing of your leg, you placed your chin in your palm. “I’m not that mean.” Emphasizing the the second to last word, Pedri’s head dipped down, and chuckled mildly.

“I can’t judge that, it’s been a while.” The ball rolled out of his grip and bounced on the grass until being trapped underneath the studs of his football shoes. “I didn’t tell him, you’re here. He doesn’t really deserve to know about your presence.”

Pedri was Gavi’s best friend, they shared secrets with each other and even trained out of the club together. Through your relationship, you became close friends with Pedri as well. And you were thankful for it, as he forced Gavi into telling you how he messed up that one night. If it wasn’t for Pedri, you still would be trapped in a very toxic relationship with a man, who used your trust for nightly adventures.

“Thank you.” You mouthed, this time letting the small smile tugging on the corners of your mouth break through. “Score a goal for me, yeah?”

Pedri raised a bushy eyebrow, surprised by what you demanded from him after losing contact for way too long. Yet, nothing has changed, you were still irresistible in each possible way for him. Turning away from you to dribble towards the teammates, Pedri glanced over his shoulder for a second time and raised his hand to show you a simple thumbs up. Enough of an answer for the question, as the midfielder found his way to his partner in crime on and off the pitch.

The game was in the hands of Barcelona, holding the ball in their possession the longest, and playing in the half of the enemy team. Close to scoring the lead goal, they stood in the twenty-ninth minute when a particular, harsh foul coaxed a gasp out of your mouth. A frustrated defensive player from Villareal decided to slide-tackle Pedri, the studs on his shoes hitting the ankle of the midfielder with full force instead of the rolling ball.

With a loud scream, filled with pain, Pedri fell to the ground, clutching his ankle between both hands. Pain twisted in his expression, and you jumped up from the seat, throwing your hands in the air. Camp Nou was filled with Barcelona supporters who booed and shouted insults through the stands.

Pedri was the last friend you had left, the last person that actually attempted to ask about your well-being even if he never answered another message until writing again. Seeing him, crumbled, laying on the ground, triggered the bubbled-up anger inside of you.

"Idiots!" You suddenly shouted; the insult rolled off your tongue quicker than you were able to process in your head. The medical team hurried across the field, pushing the Barcelona players out of the way to take a closer look at the ankle. While your eyes glistened with worry, they drifted from the ground to another person, ruffling the hands nervously through the hair and staring down at his best friend. Gavi.

Delicate palms pressed against the cold, silver bars which were used as a railing, you stared at the horrific incident, and how the medical's started to help Pedri off the field. But the midfielder's mind changed with the first steps, shaking his head and hands to explain that he belonged on the pitch; and wanted to stay. The referee behind them, blew his whistle, pointing his fingers annoyed at the watch around his wrist. Waving him off, Pedri hobbled off the field and the game continued quickly. At least three minutes have passed, if not longer, and it would be added at the end of the first half.

Still leaning across the railing, you tried to steal a glance at the coaching bench to see if Pedri was truly doing better, or playing the tough guy while his ankle swelled in a deep navy blue and wine purple. The medical team focused completely on the midfielder, inspecting how harsh the contact was and how strong the pain was. Losing Pedri in the midfield position would be a devastating start into the game.

The match continued, with Barcelona forced to play with one man less; and the opponents immediately tried to use the fact to their advantage. You couldn’t find a second to glance away from the painful twist on Pedri’s face. Eyes squeezed close, the bottom lip assaulted by his teeth as the medic’s pressed their fingers deeply against different spot around his ankle.

Minutes passed, and Xavi decided a substitute for the struggling Pedri was needed on the pitch. Displeased by the quick exchange, he rolled his eyes but swallowed the unattractive curse words which wanted to escape his mouth. Cheerful sounds rang in your ears, the fans around you jumping to their feet with the arms stretched into the warm spring air. Lewandowski once again scored a goal for Barcelona; with an assist from none other than number thirty. Gavi, who ran over to the much taller man, jumping straight on his back for a piggyback ride.

Pedri clapped his hands from the sideline, still seated in the grass while a bandage was wrapped around the swollen ankle; a thick pack of ice hidden between the layers. While the team hugged, and congratulated Robert for another perfect lead goal, Gavi jogged along the sideline towards his best friend for their very own celebration. Head tilted to the side, acknowledging the different aged females that screamed his name in a high-pitched, loud voice, with a wave and a smile.

But the curve of his mouth dropped, when his gaze drifted through the front row of the stands, bathing in the applause; and suddenly, drawn in by your presence.

A black, woolen jacket over the shoulders, the sleeves in your delicate palms. Underneath the thin material of a cardigan was a tight-cropped shirt, showing a small line of exposed skin until the charcoal-colored cargo pants perfected the chosen outfit. Hair, partly in a messy bun, the loose strands falling freely over your shoulders.

An appearance that reminded him of the first nights, you spent together. You were never a person for the tight dresses, or the overusing of makeup, and the confessions immediately drew Gavi in. But this time, your worried gaze wasn’t focused on him, you were staring at the injured man next to the coach’s bench. Concern twisted your features, eyebrows pulled down in a frown when Pedri winced as the ice bag was pressed tighter against the purple marks.

You visited Camp Nou for Pedri; for Gavi’s best friend. Unfortunately, the thought of seeing his mate touch you, kiss you, or even more, bothered him. A sudden wave of jealousy overcame Pablo, turning away from the sidelines as the referee blew the whistle for the third time, and already rummaged through the little pocket on the front of his polo shirt.

Trembling fingers brushed through the damp, chestnut strands as Gavi received the first booking of the night. And all he had left as an answer, was a subtle shrug of his shoulders instead of throwing a fit. He did not understand the sudden, unknown pinches in his heavy-breathing chest, or the reason behind the drifting gaze of his eyes to see if you were still in the stands and not already by Pedri's side.

A trail of thoughts, seeing you with his best friend entangled, bothered his mind and increased the difficulty of focusing solely on the last minutes of the first half. In seconds, he remembered the scent you carried around like a shield of protection, a fruity mixture of raspberries and vanilla. It was never a perfume like he assumed in the beginning, it was just a tube of shower gel. Those memories never bothered his concentration before, all it needed to remind him, was a glance at your face.

The referee blew the whistle once more, ending the first half of the match with a leading goal for Barcelona. And it did not take you longer than a minute to find a way out of the stands and to the catacombs. Your face was a familiar one, the security guards were still the same from the time you were by Gavi's side. An advantage for you, as they casually nodded their heads and let you through to the entrance of the tunnels. Brushing the thin strands out of the face while jogging down the corridor, the hem of your sleeves tightly between the delicate palm and soft fingertips.

Anxiety burst through your body in irregular waves when you reached the entrance to the pitch. Greeted by multiple familiar faces, your unfocused gaze drifted through the crowd, trying to find the injured midfielder. "How ironic." The rough voice twisted your stomach, the all-too-familiar melody, you once loved to listen to for more than six months. Stopping in your tracks, like the soles of your shoes were rooted to the tiled floor, you swallowed the breath you held without notice. Before you had a chance to find Pedri, and assure yourself that the concern was deeply unnecessary, Gavi found your worked-up self. „Can‘t stay away from me, huh?“

Arrogance infiltrated Pablo‘s voice, showing off the admiration he received over the past months as a shield and a new part of his personality. Confidence always lingered in his body, but the way he spoke, wasn’t similar to what you remembered. Teeth gritted, the anger bubbled in the pit of your stomachs. Anger twisted your insides, tainted your gentle heart and attempted to push you into a blinded rage. Accusing him of what he has done, how easily he played with your heart and tossed you away, but the worse part was the way, he tore your soul apart with his lies and words. Delicate fingers clenched into tight fists, the manicured nail dug into the sensitive skin of your palms.

Little needles pierced your heart, and the pain tightened your chest. You wanted to scream at him, make a fool out of yourself in the middle of the faces, you became all too familiar with. Turning around to face the arrogant curve of his mouth, Gavi stood against the wall. Studs against the stones, arms crossed over the Barcelona Jersey with the number thirty and his name. Chestnut strands in a devilish mess, thick hairs stuck to his sweaty forehead but the curl of his lips, the smugness written in the corners was the only part of him, you were able to focus on. It did not matter how attractive he was in any situation, the actions he did turned him into an ugly person for you. "Hermanito, she's not here for you. I invited her to the game." Pedri's gentle voice echoed through the corridor, capturing the attention of the two ex-lovers. Gavi rolled his eyes, tilting the head to the side while yours snapped in the direction of the entrance to the pitch at the first tone.

One arm draped over the shoulders of a medic, Pedri was carried inside on one foot. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, he was still in pain, but he did not intend to show an ounce of it. Pedri's gaze drifted away from the glimpse of annoyance in Gavi's expression, and to your face. Gentle features twisted by emotions, anger, and confusion, but also concern overshadowed the pureness.

„Are you okay?“ Carefully, you took a step towards the injured player, who assured the medic‘s that he was fine enough to walk further on his own. „That looked harsh, is it broken? I hope not.“ You rambled on between questions and expressing your concern as the distance closed between the two of you, and Pedri stepped into your little personal bubble.

Gavi‘s existence was not acknowledged by you anymore, the groan that slipped past his lips swallowed by the thick air in the catacombs. "No, it's swollen but it's nothing too serious. I'm benched for the rest of the game though."

"At least, it's nothing too bad! I almost jumped off the stands after hearing your scream." The words she attempted to hold inside, spilled out of her mouth, and admitted the intense moments of concern she went through. "Don't worry, again." Pedri chuckled, waving the worry away with his hand. "But it's flattering to know that you declined my invitation way too many times, just to sit in the stands weeks later and jump out of your seat because I got tackled.” While Pedri did not leave a second to spare to share a flirtatious comment with you, Gavi swallowed the heavy mixture of breath and oxygen. A lump in the throat, the need to leave the hallways indescribable but his hooded eyes were glued to the scene. Curiosity forced him to stay in his place, curiosity about how far the encounter would evolve.

„Well..“ You trailed off, swaying from your weight from the left to the right while deciding what words to say. „You’re my friend.“ A gentle smile plastered over your face as the answer slipped out so easily. But what you didn’t see, was the little flinch in Pedri‘s proud posture, the way he almost considered taking a step back and leaving your personal bubble again after hearing the word friend. For him, you were always irresistible, he never understood how his best friend chose hundreds of others when the perfect example of a caring girlfriend was right in front of him.

But the scene, the awkwardness that unfolded between the two of you caused a loud laugh to slip out of Gavi‘s mouth. Suddenly, he was relieved that he stayed to witness how you called him a friend with such ease. “All that work for being pushed into the friend zone again.“ He clapped his hands together, pushing himself off the wall to walk towards the changing rooms. „Maybe, she‘s still too much into me, hermanito.“ Pablo disappeared, including himself in the round of multiple conversations between his teammates. Thoughts vanished when you confessed Pedri was just another friend; leaving you alone with him in the corridor suddenly did not bother Gavi anymore. Satisfied by your words, satisfied to see that you just could not move on from what he gave you, plastered a wide smirk across his face. At least Pablo told himself that you weren’t able to leave him in the past to smooth his growing ego. Glimpses of confidence and pride written over the curl of his mouth.

"Maybe, you can watch the second half from the stands with me?" You fiddled with the ties on your cargo pants, avoiding as much eye contact as possible. Gavi's words triggered another wave of pure anger, and it was difficult to decide if calling Pedri a friend was the wrong or a good choice. "Just you know, if your coach allows it." Shrugging the shoulders, asking such a question felt oddly weird. And waiting for an answer gave rise to your nervousness.

"I have to change first, then there shouldn't be a reason not to be able to." Asking for his company in the stands, with the almost invisible watermelon-pink tint across the span of your cheeks, allowed another spark of hope to ignite in Pedri's stomach.

Taking a liking to his best mate's ex-girlfriend wasn't the greatest move, but Pablo knew the best, that Pedri fancied you for much longer than he actually said. With a quick nod, the injured midfielder stumbled into the changing room and immediately received a warm welcome, and questions about his foot from his teammates. Except for his best friend, Gavi stayed in the corner of the room, drowning a bottle of water while his intense glare never left Pedri's smiling face. And the number thirty of the Barcelona Football Club was the first to leave the locker room again, leaving behind a confused Balde, and stumbling straight into your gaze again.

Somehow, his features moved on their own. Furrowed brows relaxed, and the corners of his mouth lifted, much to your dismay. “You could have done anything.” Gavi pointed a single finger at you, closing the distance with slow steps. The woolen cardigan suddenly felt too warm, too tight wrapped around your numb limbs at the sight. For months, you avoided social media, the news and even football as a whole to not come in contact with regret. Remorse for not answering his incoming text messages about spending time together again, the multiple question marks that filled your inbox and even worse, the filthy words he sent without hesitation, which your body accepted and reacted to way too quickly. “And yet, you chose my best friend as a reasonable excuse to watch me again.”

Shaking your head to answer his words without having to use your trembling voice, defending the leftovers of your pride, you failed ultimately when Gavi caged you between his sweaty body and the cold brick wall. Calloused palm placed beside your head, he used his free one to let his warm fingertips dance over the span of your cheeks. “Still so beautiful, even after I ruined you so many times.” The whispers triggered the memories, the moments you locked away in your mind — yet, not deeply enough for Gavi to easily access them.

Nights, you spent at his newly bought house. Wrapped tightly in the comfort of the black blanket, his naked chest pressed against your bare, arched back. Rough fingertips dug into the sensitive skin around your throat, pressing your windpipe barely together. It was never meant to hurt you, the ecstasy was his greatest reason. His hips snapped against your ass, diving deeper into the warmth of your walls. Moans filled the in darkness drowned bedroom, the dim light of the moon illuminating the side of your face. Lids fluttered close, just like those nights when Gavi was in the mood to ruin you.

But he chuckled, nonchalantly and pulled your mind out of the daydream that played like a movie in front of your closed eyes. Forcing the lids open, your pupils dilated in slight shock. Months of preparation weren’t enough to decline Gavi any access to your mind. But what was worse was the rapid pace of your heartbeat or the painful hammering against your rib cage that he was able to feel. The hand on your cheek started to travel south, fingertips caressed along your jaw, over the side of your throat, and towards your chest. Palm softly pressed against the material of your shirt, fitting perfectly between your breasts, his lips curled upwards in satisfaction when your heart boomed against his sprawled-out hand. „Still the same reaction and yet, you think Pedri could offer you what I‘ve given you.“ Head tilted to your height, just a couple of centimeters smaller than him, his warm breath fanned over your glossy lips

"Tell me that you're still mine, carino." Gavi muttered into the thin air that was caught between your mouth and his. Shaking your head with the last bit of willpower, and the unsettling feeling of shame in the pit of your stomach as he played his little mind games with you, your lips brushed over his repeatedly but never closed the gap. „You ruined me one too many times, darling.“ You hissed, wiggling yourself out of his trap and stepping to the side as the door to the locker room opened, and multiple players walked outside. It was the last piece of self-confidence that slipped out of your mouth and defended your honor. Mistakes were made, repeated way too often and kept as long-term secrets throughout the relationships. Gavi's disrespect to you as a woman was enough to turn him into an unattractive person. Yet, you questioned yourself if the sentence you spoke, wasn't too harsh.

Suddenly, your shoes became an interesting view to avoid Gavi's lingering gaze and the quick glances of the passing players. But Pedri's appearance went by unnoticed, his white sneakers the first thing you see. Taking in his body, the left hem of his cargo pants settled underneath his knee to decrease the pressure on the swollen ankle, the charcoal color an extravagant sight on his tanned skin. Paired with a hoodie, he adjusted the pieces of clothing to the warm weather, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. A small black bag underneath his arm, keeping the most important essentials like his phone, and money inside of it. "You look a little flushed." Pedri used one of his hands to show with his long fingers the strawberry red tint across your cheeks, on his own face. Unfortunately, his words did not help to calm down your irregular breathing, or the intense pounding in your chest.

Any second longer at Camp Nou spread the discomfort in your body, shifting the weight from your left foot to the right to overshadow how much you trembled from the minutes with Gavi alone. Telling Pedri about his best friends' assault on his former lover would be absurd, after all, he was just a piece between Pablo and you. A friend for the two of you, but quietly cheering for your side. Clothes, way too tightly wrapped around your heavy limbs. Pedri's gentle face, radiating too much for your comfort.

"I think, I might just skip." You muttered, tilting the head to the side to avoid witnessing how the disappointment and the surprise twisted Pedri's features. Guilt bubbled in the pit of your stomach, inviting the midfielder first and then immediately taking back your words, and wanting to leave the stadium. Just in the span of five minutes, the glimpse of hope in Pedri's body vanished. Your sudden confession was a surprise to him, already attempting to find the mistakes he made that caused any discomfort to your figure. But the search never found a reasonable result. "Oh, I can sit at the coach's bench if you don't want to watch the game with me, it's fine." Pedri suggested immediately, trying to take the blame for the ways she felt without knowing what kind of emotions mixed in the pit of her stomach. "What?" You reacted quickly, the question tumbling out of your mouth as your eyebrows rose in confusion. Just for a simple second, you were clueless why he offered such a proposition but it hit you quickly.

"You said, you want to skip." Pedri's calloused palm placed over his neck, the fingertips scratching over the small hair and tanned skin. "I guess, you meant watching the game with me."

"Oh my gosh." You facepalmed yourself, letting your soft hand caress over you face. Strawberry red tint spread further across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose, showcasing a sign of shame. "I didn't mean watching the game together, it was more about the entire second half. I think I will skip the rest of the game, I don't really feel prepared enough to watch Pablo longer than needed after his rude interruption." Palm pressed to your flushed cheek, your tried to hide the hues of bright crimson red tainting your smooth skin.

“Oh.” Pedri chuckled, a very calm and light-hearted sound as the relief washed over him. “Understood. He can be a real pain in the ass.” Since Gavi transferred to Barcelona Football Club underaged, and him and Pedri became best mates. Driving as the passenger of the midfielder’s forest green mini became a ritual, the fans always knowing if they saw Pedri’s car, Gavi wouldn’t be way too far. “I really hope you don’t mind. Maybe next time, the circumstances are better.” You almost apologized for looking after yourself once again, offering Pedri a gentle smile as you turned around to leave the cursed corridors of Camp Nou.

“I can drive you home.” Pedri was quick with his suggestion, taking a step forward to wrap his long fingers around your wrist and stop the distance from growing. The little contact; just the way his warm fingertips carefully pressed against your pulsating veins, caused another blush to creep its way across the span of your cheeks and increase the heat that already put your body on flames.

Like the watermelon pink attempted to tell you that the ignited fire wasn't a usual feeling. Admiration resurfaced, the slight crush you had on the midfielder before Gavi asked you out prominent in the way your face twisted. Letting the sensation linger, the warmth spread over your skin, you tried to tug your arm away from his embrace. Instead of another attempt to convince you of his offer, Pedri's finger loosened, your limb slipping out of his grip and out of reach, without taking a step forward. "Only if you feel comfortable enough to share a car with me." Pedro added to his suggestion, witnessing how your body language changed. Muscles tensed with his touch, your voice barely audible as your heavy breaths overshadowed the words. And for merely a moment, Pedri questioned the way he almost tried to persuade you into spending time with him — even if it was just a lame car ride.

Delicate and soft palms wiped over your face, probably ruining the layers of make up you covered your blemished skin with. Choosing Pedri’s company could be a chance to feel a moment of mild comfort again. After all, he cared enough for your well-being to ask many, many times. Even when you decided not to answer the first text messages because you thought Gavi would be the reason behind the sudden interest. But it wasn’t, it has never been. “Sure, it’s better than being alone right now.” You accepted with hesitation as your mind traveled through the worst-case scenarios. While you walked through the corridors towards the parking lot where the signature green mini waited, you heard how the fans chanted Gavi’s name like a beautiful melody as another goal extended the lead. Another ball hitting the back of the net, another time number thirty scored for Barcelona.

Bathing in the applause, the attention and how needy the girls at the front of the stands tried to reach out, Gavi smiled at the cameras. The curl of his mouth plastered across his face, the burst of happiness faded when the drifting gaze of his deep hazelnut orbs didn’t find your face in the crowd. Empty seats in the secluded section, his head snapped to the coach’s bench to find Pedri. But his best mate was missing too.

Unfortunately, the realization and the negative thoughts forced Gavi into a wave of blinded rage. He knew immediately, he would leave the pitch with another booking — just no one knew if it would be a simple yellow as usual, or a deeply crimson red one.

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imaginemcyt · 2 years

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living with the dream team headcanons

dream is super helpful. need help setting up a new pc?? he's on it. you're washing the dishes? he's drying them :)

you and george watch tv or movies together and judge tf out of them. y'all are petty bitches (we love him tho). 10/10 it's so much fun

dream and sapnap will walk in and y'all are throwing popcorn at the tv and trash talking wendy williams and they're just like "😀"

sapnap tries to get you to watch anime with him and you probably aren't nearly as engaged as he wants you to be but he's glad you'll watch it with him at least

sometimes you guys have movie nights but usually they end in arguing over movies or george on his phone 😐

george has the WORST sleep schedule so he'll wake up at 11pm or finally get to sleep at 9am

sometimes you'll be awake at ungodly hours when he is, which leads to conversations at the kitchen table at 5am about literally anything at all

going on breakfast/lunch/dinner dates with them for literally no reason <3

"hey y/n, wanna go get lunch?" sure thing sap

"hey y/n, since it's just us here do you wanna go out for breakfast?" yes i do dream

"wanna order some pizza, y/n?" absolutely george

playing minecraft with them in your free time

doing stupid challenges and fucking around on new worlds

showing up on stream or in the backgrounds of videos sometimes

chat loves it. sometimes on george's streams they'll ask for you, or on sapnap's they'll ask how you are. you've been heard yelling britney spears lyrics in the background of dream's stream before

chat loves you omg

modelling their merch for the website !!!!!!!

being their literal best friend omfg

dream 100% sends you songs at like 1:31am and a text that says "idk why but this song gives me you vibes"

and they're always bangers

listening to music in sapnap's car with him and dream

going to the skate park with sapnap, even if you don't skate, just to hang out

late night convenience store runs with him, too

patches loves you

and you obviously adore her

once dream came home and found you and patches cuddled up on the couch fast asleep and mans almost combusted on the spot

he took pictures and sent them for you to wake up to

you and george make tiktoks together and they're always really dumb but you love them

if you're a cc, they're your biggest support and hype squad

or at anything you do, really

your lockscreen is a picture of the four of you doing something dumb

they all love you so so much!!! /p

#dream smp #mcyt #mcyts x reader #x reader #dream #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #georgenotfound x reader #sapnap x reader #dream team #dream team x reader

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divineei · 1 year

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modern!atwow x musician!reader

modern avatar mlist!

desc. headcanons for modern avatar: the way of water teens with a musician significant other who’s in a band. reader plays a different instrument for each character.

a/n. if this flops i’m retiring. real shit.

— neteyam. ( guitarist s/o ♪! )

he sleeps with a t-shirt of your band every. goddamn. night.

gives it back to you once a week so you can spray your perfume on it. you ended up bringing him a bottle of ur fave brand and he sprays the cologne on it every time he washes it (aka ever fucking week)

mans hooked. to both you and your music

listens to your band’s songs at least once a day. either w/ headphones or on full blast it doesn’t matter

his whole family knows all the lyrics

sometimes tuk comes to his room and jumps on his bed while playing air guitar and he absolutely joins

other times tho he closes his eyes to focus and pays special attention to the guitar while having your smile in mind

he once spent like 2 weeks watching youtube tutorials to (kinda) learn one song so he could play for you

was it good? no it was fucking hideous. was it the sweetest fucking thing ever tho? absolutely it was

always tries to pick you up after band practice

my boy would rather miss his basketball competitions than miss one of your concerts

this one time he actually tried to skip a match bc your performance was at the same time and the mf showed up backstage like “hEy🙂”

you had to call his mom for him to leave (u snitch that was kinda foul)

definitely knows abt “the rockstar’s girlfriend” aesthetic and makes it his personality. like he’s so into it

you got him a t-shirt that said “im with the band” as a joke but he actually wears it and its hilarious

— kiri. ( keyboard s/o ♪! )

comes to your house just to hear you play

she brings a book and lays down on your bed while you make new music

ADORES watching you come up with new tunes!!!!!!

you always have that focused look on your face as you move your fingers over the keys at makes her want to take a picture (she actually has a few ngl)

always goes back home humming your new melody

you record covers of her favorite songs on your keyboard and give her a cd that she listens to on her discman (she defo owns old gadgets like that)

sometimes puts her phone down on her window stool, where she has her favorite plants, and leaves it there with your music playing. she likes to think it help her plants grow

lowkey gatekeeps your songs

there was this one time you couldn’t sleep bc she kept appearing on your mind, so you connected your headphones and made your “ode to kiri”

it was 2am when you vídeocalled her to play for her what you just wrote

and kiri being the sensitive person she is, swore she could feel your affection through the music, little tears threatening to fall from her pretty eyes

it was truly a treasured memory in your relationship

until a loud ass knock on your door and an equally loud “FFS ITS 2AM!!!!!” almost made you drop dead

she absolutely laughed at you btw

— lo’ak. ( bassist s/o ♪! )

brings you stickers so you can decorate your bass w/ them

“aye babe i got a new sticker for your guitar” “for the hundredth time lo’ak, its a BASS!!!”

yeah he knows it annoys you and no he’s not gonna stop

his lockscreen is a picture of you on stage with a bunch of lil hearts he drew around you

when he goes to your concerts he tells everyone you two are dating

“you see that one over there bro? pfft yeah, we’re together” “do i know you man????” 💀

when you told him your band didnt have a logo yet he showed up at your door 3 days after, super excited and with a bunch of sketches to show you

i also think lo’ak would be really into graffiti art

so he goes around the neighborhood spray painting your band’s logo on the streets walls

“lo’ak you’re gonna get us in trouble” “oh cmon, its good promo!!”

he messes up with your amplifier when you practice, turning up and down the volume, the treble, etc. until you throw your pick right into his fucking forehead and he’s like:

“ma fault 😨”

the moment he (finally) sits still he actually pays really close attention to how your hands move

“damn, you make it look so easy” “im just good with my fingers ig”

cue the dumbest smirk you’ve ever seen

— ao’nung. ( drummer s/o ♪! )

imma just say it; he is popular. by that i mean ma boy has hella contacts

AND by that i mean he makes sure your band always has a venue to perform at. always first on every list fr

“ao’ stay the fuck away from my drums”

actually a fucking menace. tries to impress you by smashing the drumsticks everywhere.

“nah babe check me out i got it this time srsly”

rhythm left the room the moment he sat down

he even attempts some tricks he seen you pull off during your concerts, like throwing the sticks up or rolling them between his fingers.

they always end up either on the floor or hitting his dumbass head. it’s cool tho, u kiss it better (after a well deserved smack bc what did i tell u)

he’d still insist on learning so you two end up having a chick flick moment where you guide him by putting your hands on his

boy actually blushes. just a smidge

“your ears are red” “stfu no they’re not”

might not know shit abt making music but seeing the look on your face when you play is enough to make him see how passionate you are

loves being alone with you in your band’s backstage lounge

he’s so fucking extra he got his friend outside the door like some whack ass bodyguards. they’re so into it too bro

“aye keep walking man🕴️” “move along bitch aint nothing to see here🕴️”

whenever you’re about to go on stage he stays with you in your band’s room and massages your hands

makes sure you always put some baby powder on your palms before you perform in case you start sweating so you dont drop your drumsticks

— tsireya. ( vocalist s/o ♪! )

she sings along to your songs whenever they play

ao’nung is sick and tired of listening to her and uses ear plugs all the time bc he once told her to stfu and got smacked

you two even make your own carpool karaoke and scream the lyrics together on the parking lot

and she NAILS IT!!!!!

like my girl can sing fr

in fact you’ve asked her to help in a few songs for harmonies and second voices

she helps you out a lot with your vocal practice and your breathing exercises

she sits down with you and counts each second with her fingers when hold your breath and when you try your best to hold a specific note

let’s be honest here. A LOT of your songs are abt her

you really don’t have to tell her, she knows they are. bc when you’re up on stage singing abt the perfect girl, you look right at her. and her heart beats faster every time

sometimes you send her your lyrics like “what do u think of this??” and it’d be a full on poem abt her that makes her smile so goofy. kicking feet and everything

every time you get in the shower and start humming/singing her phone is ready

actually has a video of you freaking tf out bc you had an idea for a new song while showering and you stormed your way out the bathroom, wet and hair full off shampoo

“REYA PASS ME A PEN QUICK” “NAH WHY ARE YOU BOOTY NAKED PLEASEHAhH”

you had to mop the floor after that

— rotxo. ( acoustic guitarist s/o ♪! )

makes sure you are never out of strings to change

but since the strings are heavier from an electric guitar, he knows you sometimes hurt your fingers playing

so he bought you a bunch of finger protectors.

he’s a sweetheart, but those whack ass things he got you looked like this

yeaaah…. no. 💀

actually offensive he’d think you need that shit but you let it go bc he really just wanna be there for you

the actual definition of #1 fan

he’s on every concert

and i mean EVERY. CONCERT. front row, backstage, glowing sticks on one hand, phone on the other and zooming on you and only you

he goes to your house more than you go to his, just bc he always wants you to play smthn. and this way you dont gotta bring your guitar back and forth

when you’re together in your room, you get your guitar and he asks you to play some lofi style tunes

especially loves it when it’s summer and the both of you just lay down with the windows wide open and the breeze goes in and out. has a cool glass of your fave drink with a straw and he holds it up to you while you play

one thing ik for sure is rotxo is lowkey good at making beats/bases

the two of you have definitely made a few tracks purely for your enjoyment (like this)

many many many beach dates where you bring your guitar and he lays his head on your lap while the sun sets

taglist. — @rainbowsocks, @dearstell, @erenjaegerwifee, @neteyamyam, @lvrcpid, @grierpilots, @littlexscarletxwitch, @elegantkidfansoul, @anm3mi, @kachowness, @boilingpots , @lagoonabluebabe, @lethalvenus, @casiia, @liluvtojineteyam, @inluvwithneteyam, @syulangg, @junnniiieee07, @drugs-for-memes, @ilovejakesullysdick, @lovelyygirl8, @neqeyam, @ak-aaa-li, @sakura-onesan, @babyymeme, @gender3nvyy,

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perotovar · 6 months

Text

into the beat of the night (ch 4) "thin flesh"

moodboard by me

pairing: frankie morales/enby!oc!river price (they/them) rating: 18+ (minors dni) chapter warnings: swearing, (1) instance of misgendering (not by anyone we like), unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, brief oral (m receiving), discussions of contraceptives, this shit is sappy y'all, there's a cat too word count: 5.5k dividers by @saradika-graphics beta: @scenaaario (ily adrienne ♥)

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥

series summary: frankie thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

River moaned, tangling their fingers into Frankie’s curls. “F-Frankie, my lunch is only thirty minutes,” they giggled, biting their lip.

“Don’t care,” Frankie grunted, digging his thumbs into their hips and continued sucking on their neck. He hummed happily, kissing up the side of their neck to nibble on their jaw playfully.

Frankie had stopped by the building where River worked with lunch. It was now getting cold.

River had to push Frankie away, a slightly dazed look on their face. They smiled up at him and poked his cheek. “And you call me the menace. I touch your dick one time and you become insatiable.”

Frankie laughed, his shoulders shaking. He leaned over and kissed their cheek before relaxing back in his seat. “Sorry, your food is probably cold now,” he mumbled, handing the takeout bag to them.

River shrugged and began eating. “So, we’re meeting up with Will, Benny, and…”

“Santiago.”

“Santiago. Tonight, right?”

“Yeah, if you still want to,” Frankie nodded jerkily. This was the first time he was introducing River to the guys. He was mostly nervous about Benny opening his big, golden retriever mouth and asking dumb questions. He knew at least Will and Santi would be normal, if a bit protective.

“Of course I still want to,” River said, swallowing a bite of food. “They’re like brothers to you. I can only imagine the shit you guys have seen together,” they muttered sympathetically.

A far-away look crossed Frankie’s features and he swallowed around a small lump in his throat. River reached over and held Frankie’s hand, rubbing their thumb over his knuckles.

“Sorry, we can talk about something else,” they said softly.

Frankie smiled weakly and shook his head. “It’s okay,” he looked up into their eyes. They reminded him of leaves in a summer downpour. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” River had to go, finishing up the food Frankie brought for them. “I’ll text you when I get off work, okay?”

Frankie nodded and leaned over to kiss their cheek. He kissed their lips once, then again. “I’ll pick you up at eight.” River winked, climbing out of Frankie’s truck and making their way back into the tall building.

Frankie exhaled loudly and started the truck. The prospect of telling River about his past, about his addiction, made him incredibly nervous. He had been clean for a long time now, but it didn’t make the conversation less daunting. River hadn’t turned him away yet, but he also didn't know their hard limits. Despite feeling more comfortable with River than he had with anyone in a long time, it was still so new.

He pulled into the parking lot of Marisol’s daycare and sat idling, waiting to go inside and pick her up. He looked down at his phone and smiled at his lockscreen; it was a photo of River with their tongue sticking out, piercing on full display, and flipping the bird. He took another deep breath and rolled down the window for some fresh air. It would be okay.

It would.

“It’s a music based subculture, Benny. The fashion came later.”

Benny shook his head as he swallowed his beer. “Then why have I never heard of a ‘goth band’ then?”

“Because you probably listen to butt rock.”

Benny spluttered, offended, but laughed. “What is that?”

Frankie, River, and Santi laughed as Will rubbed Benny’s shoulders sympathetically. Things were going really well. Better than Frankie expected them to go, if he were being honest. It felt like River had always been a part of the group.

“I haven’t heard a denial yet,” River teased in a sing-song tone, a twinkle in their eye. Everyone laughed harder as Benny raised his arms in defeat. “Speaking of, did Frankie tell you guys what he wore when we went back to The Night Owl?”

“Oh, god, here we go,” Frankie groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

“An Iron Maiden t-shirt, which was already funny on its own. But he also wore these blue and yellow New Balances and I won’t lie, I almost ghosted him for it.” River winked at him as they squeezed his thigh under the table.

Benny was laughing so hard his face went red and Will shook his head in disappointment. Santiago sighed and put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder. “You wore your New Balances to a goth club? Hermano…”

“I don’t have any clothes that would fit there, okay?” Frankie explained, exasperated. He turned to River and gave them his best pout and puppy dog eyes, whispering, “Besides, I thought you liked my ‘lumberjack, fisherman chic’?”

River looked to Frankie’s lips briefly and licked their own before looking back up into his eyes. “True, I do. Wouldn’t change it for the world. But,” they grinned. “I would love to see you all ‘done up’ one of these days. Just for fun.”

Benny was nearly having a stroke at this point. “Oh, my god. I’m trying to imagine Fish with eyeliner and it’s killing me,” he wheezed.

Frankie laughed and shrugged, putting an arm around River’s shoulders. “We’ll see,” he hummed, leaning over to kiss River’s cheek.

Will chuckled and rolled his eyes before standing. “Another round? On me, this time.”

Everyone nodded their thanks, and fell back into easy conversation. Out of the corner of River’s eye, they saw someone nearby that could be a problem. The man had been staring at River all night, and not in a way they could ignore. River sighed quietly and prepared themselves as the man stood and tried to “subtly'' make his way over to the table.

“Damn, when’s the funeral?” The drunken asshole smirked, looking right at River. He sneered at them and waited for River to react.

“Hey, fuck off, asshole—“

“Benny, don’t,” River muttered, giving him a look that said more than their words ever would. Benny went quiet but looked at the guy with daggers for eyes. Santiago crossed his arms over his chest and watched for River’s signal.

“Haven’t decided yet,” they exhaled angrily toward the drunk.

“Listen, lady, I was just—“ River rolled their eyes and stared at the man. Frankie’s eyes went wide and he saw red. River quickly grabbed Frankie’s thigh again and squeezed, stopping him. Their expression changed from neutral to manic, an unsettling smile spreading across their face. They tilted their head to the side and stared, unblinking. The man shuffled uneasily on his feet and scoffed. “Whatever, fuckin’ freak.”

The man stumbled away just as Will returned with all their drinks. He looked at the group of grumpy faces and the guy walking away. “What happened?”

Benny’s face broke into a wide grin and he started snapping his fingers. “River just scared a dude,” he laughed.

River rolled their eyes, but smiled this time. “No, the guy came over and tried to be clever and I shut it down,” they shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of practice.” They gestured to their wardrobe by way of explanation.

Frankie went quiet and had a pensive look on his face, rubbing River’s lower back. He knew River picked up on the drunk calling them “lady”, because he knows he heard it. Will had given River a fist bump and everything went back to normal. He’ll bring it up later.

“Okay, so I know Fish went and it was an accident, but like, do you think I could go to The Night Owl?” Benny smiled wide, that golden retriever energy back in droves. “I’ve never been to a goth club and it sounds fun.”

River gave Benny a long look, thinking about it. “I don’t see why not,” they hummed thoughtfully. “I just have one question for you.”

Benny blinked and nodded, letting River continue.

“Are you sure you’re a hundred percent straight? Because you would be a hit there, and not just with the ladies.”

Everyone went quiet for a second before bursting into laughter. Frankie laughed quieter than the others and shook his head. He looked at River lovingly, taking in the features of their side profile and lips.

“Is this why you asked if I listened to butt rock?” Benny asked, incredulous. “I still don’t know what that means!!”

They were quiet on the drive to River’s apartment. River looked over at Frankie, worry etched onto their features. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet.”

Frankie glanced at River before looking back at the road. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said softly. “I’m honestly more worried about you.”

River blinked. “How come? I’m fine. I had a really good time.”

“The guy?” Frankie asked, not wanting them to bury what happened. “He called you–”

“I know what he called me, Frankie.”

Frankie frowned and bit his lip. He didn’t want to step on River’s toes with this, but he was so ready to beat the shit out of the guy back there before they stopped him. “I’m sorry, I just… I know you can handle yourself, but,” he floundered for the right words, sighing in frustration when he couldn’t find them. “I just… I’m here, okay? You don’t have to like, deal with disrespect like that while I’m with you. Especially if it’s to like, impress my friends or something.”

River went quiet and smiled sadly, looking down at their painted nails. “I know,” they hummed softly. “Thank you. Same goes for you. I may not know all the details right now, and I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready, but I’m not blind, babe. I know you’ve got demons, too.”

Frankie reached for River’s hand and laced their fingers together as he pulled up to their apartment complex. He lifted their hand to his mouth and kissed their knuckles reverently.

“Go ahead and park.”

He raised a brow and did as he was told, turning his truck off. He looked across the darkened cab at River, a curtain of hair obscuring their features before they turned their head. “What’s up?” he asked softly.

“You wanna come up?” They gestured towards their apartment with their thumb, a shy smile on their face.

Frankie’s heart skipped a beat and he nodded, undoing his seatbelt. He followed them up the steps and waited patiently while River unlocked the door. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” they sighed. River’s voice was immediately followed by a loud scratchy meow. “Aww, hi, baby,” they grinned, crouching down to pick up what was probably the fluffiest gray cat Frankie had ever seen. “You’re not allergic are you?” They asked, a look of worry crossing their features, realizing they forgot to mention that they had a cat.

Frankie snorted and shook his head, holding his finger out for the cat to assess him.

River sighed in relief and kicked the door shut behind him. “Good,” they smiled. “This is Jonsey.”

“Alien?” Frankie grinned.

“Yes! Ugh, thank you!”

He laughed as Jonsey leapt out of River’s arms and went, presumably, towards his food. “How come you always look so spotless? Doesn’t he shed a lot?”

“Ohhh yeah,” River laughed. “I have travel-size lint rollers on me at all times.”

They both laughed before they got quiet, taking each other in. Frankie shoved his hands in his pockets and decided to look around.

“Wine?” River asked, walking toward the kitchen.

“Sure. Thank you.”

He really wasn’t sure what he expected River’s apartment to look like, but if he had to guess, he thinks it’d look exactly like this. Dark wood furniture with gray accents. There were plants everywhere; spilling over window sills and winding up bookshelves, lush and full of life.

“You can have a seat, y’know,” River chuckled, handing him a wine glass. They started walking around the living room and lighting a couple candles to further warm up the place.

Frankie obliged and had a seat on River’s couch, getting comfy. He left his arms open and River immediately took the invitation, cuddling close. They drank their wine in silence for a few minutes before Frankie spoke.

“I meant what I said, by the way,” he started, rubbing the thumb from his free hand against their arm. “I may not understand all the nuances of your gender and what comes with it, but I want to. I really like you, River, and… I wanna be there for you.”

Turning slightly, River made eye contact before setting their wine glass on the coffee table. Frankie did the same with his own. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve you coming into my life like this, but I really appreciate it,” they grinned. Their lips pressed against his tenderly. “You’re taking all of this incredibly well. Most cis guys get so threatened by… this,” they gestured to their body. “Usually why I date women,” they chuckled.

Frankie smiled, heart fluttering. “I’m not sure what it is either. I just felt a pull,” he shrugged. “And you’re right. I haven’t been totally honest about my past yet, but… I will. I promise. You deserve to know.”

Climbing into Frankie’s lap, River held his face to kiss him with more purpose. He melted into it, keeping his hands on their sides. Frankie closed his eyes,the scent of River’s cologne washing over him. Color bloomed across his eyelids, the earthy tones of sandalwood and the deep red of the wine on their lips.

Coming up for air, River breathed against his lips, “You don’t have Marisol this week do you? You don’t need to be home?”

“No, I dropped her off at her mom’s earlier,” Frankie sighed, scratching lightly at River’s lower back, making them shiver.

“Do you want to take me to bed, Francisco?”

Frankie’s whole body shuddered and he felt time stop. Pools of green looked over his features like he’d hung the moon as River waited for his answer. Swallowing his nerves, a soft smile graced Frankie’s features. “Of course,” he whispered gently, because if he spoke any louder, he was sure the spell would be broken.

River’s face lit up, pink warming their cheeks. They leaned forward and attached their lips to his neck, nipping and sucking softly at the thick muscles there. “Bedroom is down the hall on the right,” they mumbled.

Frankie didn’t need to hear anything else as he stood. He held River by the ass as they laced their legs around his waist. He felt like he was in a trance as he made his way down the hall. He had convinced himself that he wouldn’t make it this far with them. Feeling around for the light switch in the dark, Frankie exhaled shakily as River sucked a mark into his shoulder. He gave up and walked slowly to their bed and set them down.

River leaned over and turned on the lamp next to the bed. A soft warm glow lit the room, illuminating each other well enough to continue. Frankie shuffled on his feet for a second, nerves suddenly hitting him.

“What’s wrong?” River asked softly, scooting toward the edge of the bed, and resting their hands on Frankie’s belt.

Frankie thought about it for a minute, biting his lip. “Is there anything I should know? Like,” he floundered for a second. “I don’t want to touch you in the wrong way or say the wrong thing.”

River swooned, and smiled up at him. “God, I know it’s the bare minimum but your concern and respect is so fucking hot,” they groaned, hiding their burning cheeks in his soft tummy.

Frankie’s chest puffed up a bit and he grinned down at them, running his fingers through their long hair. He moved it away from their face and cupped their cheek, rubbing his thumb along the bone there.

River pulled themselves together for a second to speak and cleared their throat. “I’m very cool with you touching me anywhere. I would very much like you inside me,” they smirked. Frankie choked on his own spit, cock twitching in his jeans. They slowly unbuckled Frankie’s jeans and looked at the throbbing, red, and leaking tip of Frankie’s cock. “No underwear, huh?” They hummed, delighted at the sight, and started pumping it slowly, giving the head little kitten licks.

“F-Fuck,” Frankie moaned shakily, tipping his head back. He felt his entire body shiver as their tongue piercing dragged over the tip, the colors behind his eyelids returning. He tightened the fist in River’s hair and tugged slightly, making them moan around his cock. They started bobbing their head slowly, looking up at him. Frankie couldn’t look away from the mouth around him and he groaned, his cock twitching inside their mouth.

He pulled them off, a trail of saliva connecting River’s bottom lip to the head of his cock. “Babe, stop,” he chuckled breathily. “This is going to be done so fast if you keep that up.”

River’s eyes twinkled. “‘Babe’, huh?” They teased, tugging his pants down so he could step out of them. “And what, can’t last longer than five minutes?”

Growling, Frankie pushed them down onto their back on the bed. He hovered over them, one knee on the bed next to them. “Not around you,” he smirked, thick fingers methodically unbuttoning River’s shirt and yanking it off their shoulders.

His breath caught at the sight of their tattoos, but he slowed down when their top surgery scars came into view. He tentatively ran his fingertips along the scars, everything really hitting him all at once.

River watched his face, their stomach fluttering with nerves, but also excitement. They’d gotten to this point with others before and it was enough to turn people away. They didn’t think that would happen with Frankie, but they could never be too sure. Their cheeks warmed the longer he looked at them.

“Please say something,” River whispered anxiously.

“Where do I start?” Frankie breathed, smiling softly. “This looks like it really hurt,” he hummed sadly. “But it’s so beautiful.” His voice shook with reverence. He looked up at them, face full of emotion. “Lie back for me?”

River’s entire body was buzzing as they put a pillow underneath their head to look down at him. The fabric of their dress pants glided across their skin as Frankie removed the rest of their clothes. He hummed happily at the damp spot on the front of their underwear, kissing from one knee to the top of their thigh. River exhaled shakily, and bit their lip, taking in the sight of the mass of curls between their legs. Unable to resist, they reached forward and carded their fingers through his hair.

Frankie looked up at them, his big brown eyes shining as he kissed their clit through the fabric. River’s breath hitched and they giggled softly, lifting one leg to poke his shoulder with their toes. He winked and moved the last piece of clothing down their legs. He didn’t waste any time and latched his mouth onto their clit and sucked hard.

River moaned out loud, their back arching off the bed. “F-Frankie,” they whined, tugging on his curls.

Frankie was in his own world, creating a rhythm with his tongue, and the sounds coming from River’s mouth clogging his senses. He felt drunk, prodding two fingers at their entrance.

“Y-yes, please,” they breathed weakly, giving him permission.

Frankie ached to bring them pleasure as his fingers sunk in, quickly finding a pace to pump inside. He found a rhythm between his tongue and his fingers, and apparently it was doing something, if the sounds River was making were anything to go by.

River’s thighs trembled around his head, their entire body covered in goosebumps. Frankie looked up at them and lifted his mouth off of their clit, but his fingers never let up. River groaned out an exhale as they made eye contact and bit their lip. Something passed between them without words because when Frankie’s thumb touched their clit at the right pressure and rhythm, River’s eyes rolled back. They let out a loud moan into the room as they stilled, coming hard and wet around Frankie’s fingers.

Frankie grinned, watching River writhe around on the bed for a moment before coming down. “Very good,” he hummed, removing his fingers slowly and wrapping his lips around them. He groaned at the taste of them. He held onto their thighs before burying his tongue inside them once again. His aquiline nose rubbed perfectly against their clit while he lapped up more of them, hardly giving them a moment to breathe.

“Frankie, f-fuck, wait,” River gasped, their head spinning with want. Their clit throbbed in overstimulation, still so sensitive from their high.

Frankie grunted into their pussy and looked up at them like they’d just interrupted his favorite meal. And, really, they had. River’s breath hitched at the look in Frankie’s eyes. His normally soft eyes had turned hard, feral, and they dripped at how turned on it made them. He shook his head against them, moving from side to side, his curls bouncing at the movement.

“God, fuck,” River moaned pathetically, their heart rate going at a pace they hadn’t felt before.

“Gimme one more, baby,” Frankie mumbled against them. “Just one more, sweet thing. Gotta taste it this time.”

River’s eyes rolled back and they whined, nearly yanking on Frankie’s hair. His voice sounded as wrecked as they felt, all throaty and deep. Their walls clenched tightly around his tongue in little pulses the closer they got to their release. Frankie watched closely, his vision blurring slightly at the edges with the amount of focus he had on River’s form. He paid rapt attention to which movements of his tongue made them squirm. Their chest stuttered with every breath they took, the muscles and tendons in their neck moving underneath the skin tightly.

When River came, it was more intense than the first time and came in waves, making them nearly shout in pleasure. Frankie tried holding their hips down with those big hands of his but ended up following their movements so as not to miss a single drop. His eyes were on them the whole time, taking in the sight of them at their highest peak.

River trembled in the aftershocks as Frankie’s mouth finally let go. He kissed along the bottom of their tummy and left little nips and marks, sucking and staking his claim over them. River grinned lazily at the sight, their heart soaring. “Mmm, you’re good at that,” River chuckled, feeling all warm and satisfied.

Frankie grinned as he crawled onto the bed to hover over them. “Thank you,” he smirked, a smidge of arrogance coloring his features.

River laughed softly and rolled their eyes. They gripped the bottom of his t-shirt and lifted it over his head. “How are you still wearing your shirt, but no pants or underwear?” They snorted.

Frankie’s eyes darkened as he took in their flushed cheeks and moved their long hair behind their ears. “I was a little distracted,” he whispered, kissing them sensually.

River sighed happily, getting lost in the taste of themselves on his tongue. They ran their hands down his torso to grip onto Frankie’s ass and squeezed. They wrapped their legs around his waist and quickly flipped them over before Frankie had time to react. Now straddling him, they ground their hips against Frankie’s cock situated perfectly between their lips. “My turn,” River hummed, latching onto Frankie’s nipple.

Frankie gasped at all the sensations as his hips bucked up against them. “W-wait, do you have a condom? I’m clean, I just wanna make sure,” he smiled, rubbing their arms protectively.

“I do,” they nodded, nipping around the other nipple as they looked up at him. “We can use one if you want, but I am on PrEP, too. Also, uh,” they lifted their mouth off of him, sitting comfortably. “I can’t get pregnant. That’s the other major surgery I had.”

“Oh.”

They got quiet as they watched each other breathe heavily for a bit. “Is… Is that okay?” River asked hesitantly.

Frankie’s face went through every emotion imaginable within seconds before landing on nearly feral. “You… really shouldn’t have told me that,” he grinned wickedly, grabbing onto their hips and digging his fingernails in hard. River stopped him before he could turn them over and started grinding against the underside of his cock again, getting it impossibly wet.

“Oh, nu-uh,” River smirked. “You’re not in charge right now.”

Frankie’s cock twitched at the authority in their voice and he nodded obediently.

“Good boy,” they hummed, their fingers curling around his shaft before slowly sinking down on him. River whimpered slightly at the stretch and swirled their hips in little circles on the way down before they were sat on his lap comfortably. They groaned in satisfaction, slowly getting used to his girth and the weight of him.

Breathing heavily, Frankie shut his eyes and dug his head into the pillow underneath him. He focused on the sounds around him so he wouldn’t come right away; the slightly opened window brought in a nice breeze that cooled his flushed skin. River was breathing heavily, but quietly, watching patiently as he evened out his breathing. Blunt nails scratched lightly at Frankie’s torso, goosebumps following in their wake.

It had been a while since he’d been inside someone and it’s clear that it’s been a while for River as well considering just how god damn tight the fit was.

“You okay?” River grinned, rolling their hips slightly, already used to the feeling. They clenched around him teasingly in little pulses.

Frankie’s breath hitched and he groaned, desperately gripping their hips. He was certain there would be marks leftover tomorrow. “Fuck, gimme a second,” he panted, eyes squeezed shut. River watched his Adam’s Apple bob a few times as he got his breathing back to normal, their heart pounding in their chest.

When Frankie raised his head again to look down at where the two of them met, he exhaled shakily. “Jesus,” he moaned, his eyes traveling up their torso until he landed on their face. His heart skipped a beat seeing the look on their face.

He hadn’t seen River so… vulnerable before. They always looked put together, not a hair out of place or any bit of makeup smeared. They looked beautiful; their hair a mess, and their makeup smudged. They looked calm, at peace. Satisfied. His hands slowly traveled up their side before his thumbs rubbed at the edges of their surgery scars.

“Ready?” River smiled softly, cupping his face with one hand and bracing themself on his chest with the other.

Frankie nodded and lifted his hips slightly, his words spoken without a sound; fuck me.

And they did.

Bouncing on him at a leisurely pace to start, River watched Frankie’s eyes glaze over with the pleasure he was feeling, his face slack and his swollen lips parted. Before either of them knew it, they were rocking together at a steady pace, their collective moans and groans and sighs of pleasure filling the room.

They were completely lost in one another, River’s head thrown back to expose their throat as they moaned loudly. Their brows dipped down in pleasure as they bit their lip. “God, you feel so fucking good,” they whined, slowly starting to lose their rhythm as they got closer to their peak.

Frankie moaned and sat up, latching his mouth onto their neck, hugging them close to his chest. He dug his feet into the mattress and started fucking up into them. River groaned, hiding their face in his neck. They whined and whimpered against his damp skin, trembling on top of him.

The light slap, slap, slap of their skin against each other was the only sound in the room for a moment before Frankie panted against their forehead, kissing there softly. “More?” he smiled, eyes shut in bliss.

River nodded and whined weakly. “S-so fucking close.”

Frankie grunted as he flipped them over, well and truly fucking into them now. He didn’t let up, moaning when River’s nails clawed into Frankie’s back. He hissed at the sting and shivered all over, his hips slowly losing their rhythm. “Touch yourself, sweet thing,” Frankie breathed, watching their blissed out expression change to a look of focus. River reached between them and started rubbing at their clit at the same pace as Frankie’s hips.

River whined weakly, half-lidded and glossy eyes looking up at him. They were unable to form the words themself, their chest stuttering and breath hitching with every one of his thrusts.

“Yeah?” he breathed happily.

“Yeah.”

Frankie crashed their lips together as River moaned, his hips keeping the pace he knew they needed. River’s whole body stilled for a second before bucking into a slight staccato as their release wracked through them. They whispered into his mouth, their walls clenching around his cock tightly, trying to provoke his own release as well.

“C’mon,” they panted against his lips encouragingly. It didn’t take much after that, Frankie’s hips slamming into River’s as his cock twitched inside them violently, thick spurts and ropes coating their walls. His hips rolled in slow waves until the last drop left his cock. A low grunt left his lips as he looked down at their combined releases coating his shaft. River moved their hips back a little, more of it dripping out in the process. It made Frankie shiver all over, a wicked little grin on his face.

Quiet settled over the two of them as they caught their breath. River watched Frankie’s face go from tense to the most relaxed they’d ever seen him. They smiled up at him and cupped his face, kissing his nose sweetly. He opened his eyes at that, looking into their eyes and his cheeks warmed at the attention.

“Hey,” he smiled, voice rough.

“Hey, yourself.”

Frankie snorted and leaned down to kiss them deeply. He slowly parted their legs, moving out from between them carefully. River sighed into his mouth at the loss, the cum trickling out as his cock dragged against them. They felt empty, clenching around nothing, but reveling in the filthy feeling they had.

When they came up for air, River played with Frankie’s curls, all of them sticking up in every direction. They grinned and tapped him on the shoulder. “Be right back,” they hummed, crawling out from under him to go into their bathroom down the hall. Frankie watched their ass as they left and plopped down onto his back, one arm resting on his forehead. He shut his eyes and just focused on his breathing for a moment before he heard the toilet flush and the sounds of bare feet coming back into the bedroom.

He looked up and saw River crawling back onto the bed with a warm washcloth. They slowly started cleaning Frankie up, almost reverently. Frankie watched them quietly, his heart skipping a beat. He usually did this part, but was more than happy to be on the receiving end of it. As River finished, they tossed the washcloth into the hamper in their closet.

“You need anything? Water?” River smiled down at him. Frankie nodded and pulled them down for a quick kiss.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

River jumped out of the bed and made their way into the kitchen. Frankie got comfortable as he listened to them move around in there. He heard a small chirp at the door and a fluffy gray tail came in through the doorway. He smirked as Jonsey jumped up onto the end of the bed and got comfortable. Jonsey sniffed at Frankie’s toes before rubbing his head against them and curled up into a ball. He fell asleep pretty soon after that.

“Sorry, had to clean a glass,” River chuckled softly as they walked back into the bedroom, still blessedly naked. Frankie appreciated the view, and happily took the glass of water. He took a couple of big gulps and set it on the nightstand next to him.

River dug around in the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a hair tie. Frankie watched silently as they slowly pulled their long hair into loose braid. Their tattooed skin was slightly shiny from the perspiration of their coupling, making his stomach flutter. He smiled at their flushed cheeks as they tossed the long braid over their shoulder when they finished.

River crawled into the bed carefully, making sure not to wake up Jonsey. “Least he was polite enough to wait until we were done,” Frankie snorted, pulling River into his side. River giggled and kissed Frankie’s chest softly.

“True,” they said around a yawn. “I’m exhausted. You wore me out, old man.”

Frankie sighed in exasperation and laughed softly, kissing River’s hairline. “All that and you still call me old,” he grumbled.

“It’s an affectionate term.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he smirked. “Get some sleep.”

River nodded and got into the covers. They lightly pulled on his arm, kissing his shoulder. “You too, mister.”

Frankie obliged, pulling River close to his chest. Thick fingers passed lightly over River’s skin as their breathing evened out. Frankie stayed up for a bit and just let the moment settle into his heart. He looked down at the top of their head and placed a soft kiss to the crown before shutting his eyes himself.

The last thing he heard that night was the sound of River’s soft snoring. Frankie exhaled, heart feeling at peace for the first time in a long time.

#frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fluff #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fic #triple frontier smut #oaksfics

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starsandhughes · 1 year

Text

Penalty Box— Trevor Zegras (Part Eleven)

SERIES MASTERLIST

previous: ten

next: twelve

corresponding quinn post

note: i’m posting this as if i posted on game day but bc the game wasn’t uploaded on espn+ til midnight, i’m posting now!

i kinda hate this but it’s fine

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 8, 2023

PREGAME

yourusername

liked by colecaufield, jamie.drysdale, and 4,782 others

yourusername welcome to my pregame penalty box update: bets edition! tonight is a very special game because it’s the ducks vs canucks, zegras vs hughes, trevor vs quintin, z vs huggy, z-baby vs quinny, trevy vs quinner, trevorsaurus rex vs quinncerarops, trevanthemum vs quinnrose, boyfriend vs best friend! the current standings are as follows:

trevor zegras (11): 1 game since his last penalty

quinn hughes (43): 3 games since his last penalty

let the chaos commence🧡💙 (oh and good luck babe and side hoes)

tagged trevorzegras, anaheimducks, _quinnhughes, and canucks

view all 271 comments

jackhughes tag yourself i’m trevor vs quintin

jamie.drysdale i’m z-baby vs quinny

colecaufield i’m trevanthemum vs quinnrose

_alexturcotte i’m the entire collage

trevorzegras i better be babe

yourusername 🤷‍♀️

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername i wanna go back to side hoes plural, whomst is the plural??

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale 🤷‍♀️

trevorzegras I BETTER BE BABE

user1 brb making y/n’s collage my lockscreen

_quinnhughes why?

yourusername you’re going to have to be more specific

_quinnhughes why to all of it

yourusername yes :)

jamie.drysdale i’d like to focus on the collage please

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale she made it with love

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras i wouldn’t be so sure

user2 there’s not even new out of pocket photos and this post is one of my favorite updates due to nicknames alone😂

user3 i cannot pick a favorite part about this post

POSTGAME

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, lhughes_06, and 7,553 others

yourusername welcome to my postgame penalty box update ft drunk y/n!! somehow, even though these two teams get so many penalties, there was only two in the first period. but i took a shot per goal for both teams so i’m winning in life!! life is grand!!

my lovely boyfriend, trevor zegras, is now at two games since his last penalty! he’s been working on not getting as many penalties, and he’s proving to be successful in this endeavor so far!

sorry about the loss, but at least you got some money! i love you, always, z-baby🧡

p.s jamie-baby says hi everybody!!!

p.s.s bet winnings will be posted on quinny-baby’s post!

tagged trevorzegras

view all 591 comments

trevorzegras there’s so much going on here but i’m pretty sure you said you love me so i love you, forever, y/n-baby😘

yourusername i did say that!! get home faster! jamie is fighting cuddles

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale love her

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras she climbed under my shirt

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale there is no way this is the first time she’s done this

user1 some people have bitches, y/n has babies

lhughes_06 i knew betting on him was a good idea

trevorzegras i knew you were my favorite hughes brother

yourusername “remember i’m still betting on you girl on fire”

lhughes_06 @/trevorzegras how many times has she watched the hunger games series since it hit netflix?

trevorzegras @/lhughes_06 i stopped counting at four

user2 easy, breezy, beautiful, cover girl

user3 drunk y/n posts>>>

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras congrats on your loss

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes how’s your face?

jackhughes @/trevorzegras DAMN Z

user4 drinking should’ve been the move i hate tnt games

jackhughes i’d like to change my bets

yourusername well, well, well, how the turntables… (michael scott)

jamie.drysdale i gotta hand it to ya… your tolerance is impeccable

yourusername thanks it’s a talent

trevorzegras my girl>>>

user5 z was so pure interacting with the refs tonight!!

user6 and how they said he had a heart to heart with dallas?!?! swooning. what a man.

colecaufield @/trevorzegras atta boy, trevorsaurus rex!!

yourusername !!!

trevorzegras yeah okay😂 thank you

#penalty box series #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #trevor zegras insta edit #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras fluff #quinn hughes #jack hughes #jamie drysdale #cole caufield #alex turcotte #luke hughes #anaheim ducks #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #trevor zegras fanfic

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tgmsunmontue · 4 months

Text

With our pets, a house becomes our home

5k Hangster MeetCute (Explicit, but not very by my standards). Bradley is the vet (DVM) that Jake takes Brisket to after he adopts her and moves to Corpus Christi to be a flying instructor.

I started this fic before I saw @yeagrave's art, but this post is 100% Jake's lockscreen (and those are a set of Jake's spare dog tags).

Monday mornings generally suck. The people who have left their pets wellness until normal business hours because they didn’t want to pay the extra emergency fees. He quietly judges them. This Monday sucks more than most though, because he’s covering another vet on what is meant to be his day off. But he doesn’t want to make the admin staff have to reshuffle the thirty or so appointments that he now has facing him in a long gauntlet of monotony. Hopefully there will be something interesting that pops up.

He deals with the standard checkups, listens to heart murmurs, administers vaccines, makes notes for the techs, gives instructions about diets he knows get ignored by owners who think they know better. He has to change his scrubs when a dog vomits on him and yeah… he wants his day off back with a deep burning passion but pushes through. He can shower and blob when he gets home and bitch and moan to his friends. They can compare Mondayitis stories and see who comes out worst.

He steps into the waiting room, and there’s only two people left, one a woman with two kittens in a carrier, and the other a man cradling a puppy. He’s only got one left for his ticket today, and it’s a puppy so okay, at least he gets to look at a cute puppy and a cuter guy.

“Brisket?”

The guy blushes and Bradley can’t help his smile getting bigger as he gestures toward the consultation room.

“Uh, hi.”

“Hi, I’m Bradley. What brings Brisket in today?”

“She needs a general checkup, and I wanted to register her with a vet since I moved here in the weekend… She needs vaccines I think? And to be fixed? And I wanted to ask some questions?”

“So she’s here for the works… can I have a look?” Bradley asks and the guy blushes again, looks down at the tiny bundle who looks back at him adoringly and Bradley has a thing for guys who like animals. Couldn’t be with anyone who didn’t like animals, wouldn’t feel like he could trust them. He hands the puppy over to Bradley and he handles her gently, lets her lick and sniff at him a little before lowering her to the examination table.

“Tell me about how you got Brisket,” Bradley says, running his hands down the little body, grinning as she happily licks his fingers, tail wagging enthusiastically. She’s very sweet. Most guys like having big dogs, so he’s genuinely curious as to whether this guy chose this dog, or if he’s here at the bequest of someone else. Girlfriend or boyfriend maybe. Purely out of professional courtesy.

“Uh, I’ve wanted a dog for ages. Finally getting settled in one place for a while so I figured it was finally time you know? So I went to the shelter in San Diego, not really intending to adopt then and there…”

“She’s a rescue?” Bradley says, and he’s a little surprised. Because if they’re not big dogs then they’re usually little dog breeds, so some hybrid-cross-breed that some breeder thinks will be in demand. This little thing hadn’t looked like any breed he was familiar with, but there’s so many new ones and he’s not usually up with them all.

“Well yeah, of course. She just had such a friendly personality you know?”

“She is very sweet natured,” Bradley agrees, because the guy is clearly besotted with his puppy, and it’s adorable. He listens to her heart and lungs, takes her temperature and soothes her through the discomfit.

“So did you have paperwork showing what she’s already been vaccinated for? Most shelters give you adoption paperwork?”

“Oh, yeah, they did. One second,” the guy says, pulling folded pieces of paper out of his pocket and handing them over. On the top of the paper are all the details of the dog, and then down the bottom the details of the new owner. Jake Seresin. At least he has a name now.

“Okay, so she’s all up to date with all the vaccines, she’ll need to come back in six weeks for a booster. And we don’t do on the spot spaying or neutering, you’ll have to make an appointment when she’s a little older. Try not to let her out unattended, because we don’t want to be adding to the puppy population, regardless of the fact that she’d no doubt make gorgeous babies…You a first time dog owner?”

“I grew up on a ranch, had lots of animals. Horses mainly. Well, beef stock. But lots of working animals, not pets. She’s my first.”

“Well, you made a good choice. She’s got a lovely temperament. Nice and healthy,” Bradley states, laughing as she tries to chew on his thumb and he reaches for a dog toy from the jar. “Okay, so she’s going to be mouthy, she’ll want to chew on things as her adult teeth come through. You might find a couple of puppy teeth lying around but they usually just swallow them. It’s all normal. You have any questions?”

“Uh…I… um. Made a list.”

“Sensible,” Bradley says, and this guy’s adorable intensity is commendable, he wished more owners thought to ask their vets the questions rather than trusting Google.

“You’ve, uh, already answered a few of them actually.”

“That’s good, what else have you got?”

He asks about diet and exercise, sleep and routines, anxiety and separation and toilet training and Bradley answers them all, writes down a few notes and links to some reputable websites. Recommends a puppy obedience course, steers him away from problematic dog toys which can cause more harm than good. The appointment definitely runs well over the time, but it’s his last of the day and he’s got nowhere else he’d rather be, and after the day he’s had this is a nice silver lining.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“No, I think that’s it. Thanks so much, it’s really helped.”

“You’re more than welcome. I guess I just have a question for you now.”

“Of course, what is it?”

“I don’t usually do this, but you want to grab a drink sometime?”

“A drink. Like…A date?”

“Yep.”

“Yeah. Yeah I’d like that.”

“Great, let me get a card.” He grabs a business card, usually reserved for when he goes to conferences, carefully prints his personal cell phone number on the back and hands it over. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

… … …

Jake gets back to his house and immediately lets Brisket out into the back garden, looks at the little rectangular piece of card and puts the number into his phone before he loses it. He puts the name in as Bradley but then follows it with the flame emoji, followed by the guy with the moustache and then the dog emoji. That’s enough to remind him of who exactly Bradley is. Not that he thinks he’s going to need the reminder.

He spends some time looking at the websites Bradley has recommended, sends an enquiry about the puppy obedience classes. He’d already made an appointment for the booster shots and for getting Brisket fixed. Definitely doesn’t want to wait that long before seeing Bradley again. He grins. Only in town for five days and he’s got a guys number. Without even trying. Phoenix told him a puppy would help him make friends, that he needed as much help as he could, maybe she was onto something.

Hi Bradley. This is Jake. Let me know when you want to do that drink. I don’t start work until next week so currently free as a bird.

It’s not too late, and it’s been a couple of hours. He’s not going to play hard to get. He’s never considered himself hard to get when the guy is as attractive as Bradley is, and he’s never been one to play games or overthink setting up dates or hookups. He’s hoping this is maybe more than a hookup.

I’m free most evenings. Tomorrow? Dinner?

Jake grins, likes the idea of dinner even more than a drink, it’s a good sign; sends a message back, organizing a time but asking for recommendations of where they could go to eat.

… … …

They settle at a table and quickly peruse the menu before placing orders with the hovering waitstaff. They’ve made superficial small-talk about the weather and how Brisket is doing, but he’s hoping he can find out more about Jake himself.

“So you’re new to the area?”

“Uh yeah, I guess. I lived here a while back but am back for work.”

“And what do you do for work?”

“I’m in the Navy. An aviator,” Jake says, like he’s a little unsure.

“You’re shitting me…” Bradley says with a disbelieving laugh, because he’s had a guy tell him he was a naval aviator before. Except he hadn’t been and the lie had quickly bitten the other guy in the ass when Bradley had quickly realized and called him out on it. It had been a shame because Bradley had genuinely liked him.

“Why would I lie?”

“Well, some guys think it’ll sound impressive…”

“Isn’t it?”

“Well… maybe to some guys,” Bradley concedes.

“Not you?”

“No. Not to me. I’m more impressed you adopted a rescue, travelled across country with it and care about your puppy than what you might or might not do for your work.”

“Most people care that I disappear for months on end. Or have a thing against the military in general.”

“Huh,” Bradley states, realizing that that was maybe where his hesitance had come from. “I’m used to people being away for long periods,” Bradley states. Jake raises an eyebrow. “Sorry. I’m just… I was a Navy brat. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Yeah. Grew up on bases, spent most of my life on them. We probably know some of the same people, if you’re actually a naval aviator…” Bradley says, still giving him an out, because maybe this guy is not realising the hole he’s dug.

“How do you figure?”

“My dad was a naval aviator, and until very recently my godfather was also a naval aviator, although he’s recently retired. Although I don’t think the Navy will actually ever get rid of him. He’s pretty entrenched.”

“Yeah, what’s his name?”

“Pete Mitchell,” Bradley provides, and Jake’s immediate response makes him relax a little. That’s definitely recognition of the name.

“Maverick? Mav’s your godfather?”

Bradley opens his mouth, snaps it shut again. Not just recognition but more than that. He's calling him Mav. Of fucking course he knows Mav, and he hadn’t used his callsign so this guy is legitimately a naval aviator.

“You know Mav huh?”

“Yeah. He’s… damn. He’s fucking insane but so good. He was brought in to train us and he’s just… that good.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that. His ego doesn’t need to be made any bigger.”

“He deserves his ego, he’s fucking legendary.”

“You sound like a fan.”

“Yeah, I guess I am. He’s… worthy of fans.”

“Yeah well, he’s my godfather. So there you go.”

“Wait, are you little goose?”

“Oh god…” Bradley groans.

“You are!”

“Yeah yeah… this is quickly losing the date vibe.”

“Sorry, I can bring it back to that,” Jake says, and his hand is suddenly resting on Bradley’s, warm and dry, fingers stroking the back of his hand.

“Yeah, think you better or you might strike out…”

“Wouldn’t want that…” Jake says, and his eyes are dark and amused and Bradley feels a little thrill at being the subject of his intense gaze.

“So, you’re an actual naval aviator.”

“Yeah, no wonder you aren’t impressed if you grew up hearing about Mav’s exploits. Fuck.”

“Trust me, I find you plenty impressive.”

“Good to know,” Jake says, his smile clearly pleased. “I’m one of the new flight instructors. Have a three-year stint here and Kingsville unless they need me for something special.”

“Nice. Do you like teaching?”

Their conversation changes as they talk more, discussing what their upbringings were like, their families, respective careers, all of Bradley’s current animals, favorite food and drink. It’s easy, their humor similar and gently teasing at times, making laughter come easily. It’s one of the best first-dates he’s ever had and it’s not until there’s a polite cough that he looks up to see the rest of the restaurant is empty, the waitstaff having clearly cleared up and are now just waiting on them. A quick glance at his phone tells him it’s nearly midnight and his mind bugs out a little.

“Shit, sorry. I guess we got caught up talking.”

“It’s fine.”

He grabs the bill, leaving a generous tip for keeping them and tells Jake he can grab the bill next time, which has him murmuring next time huh under his breath, close to Bradley’s ear as they walk close together as they step outside. There are only two cars left in the lot and he guesses the staff must park somewhere else. He walks Jake to his car, only a few yards from his own truck.

“I had a really good time tonight…” Bradley starts.

“Me too. Wouldn’t mind doing it again…”

“What are you doing Saturday?”

“Having dinner with this hot guy I just met…”

“What a weird coincidence, so am I…”

He shifts forward, eyes searching Jake’s face to make sure there isn’t any hesitation before placing a gentle kiss on Jake’s mouth. He pulls back slowly, his lips quirking in amusement when Jake quickly gives him another kiss back, slightly firmer and longer and he feels the flicker of warm anticipation come to life in his belly. Potential something.

“Don’t suppose I can tempt you to come back to my place?”

“I’m definitely tempted, but I’ve got to get home. Dogs.”

“Oh yeah, of course.”

“Bring Brisket on Saturday. She can meet the pack…”

He doesn’t want to mention that Jake could also bring all her gear, as well as a spare toothbrush for himself.

… … …

They’ve been messaging since dinner on Tuesday and Jake feels completely settled into his house now, he’s driven to both Corpus Christi and Kingsville to familiarize himself with the routes. He’s taken Brisket to her first puppy obedience class, figured out the most convenient grocery store. All week he’s been looking forward to Saturday, packs some things and leaves them in has car, so if he needs any of it they’ll be close at hand. If it’s effectively a sleepover backpack for him and Brisket that’s between him and Brisket.

He pulls into the drive of the house address Bradley had given him and looks at the tall fence that surrounds the back garden, can already hear barking and he looks down at Brisket who is sitting there, ears pricking forward at the sound of other dogs. He gets out, grabs her bag of stuff and carries her toward the house, glad she at least seems curious about the barking rather than terrified. He rings the bell, eyes widening at the sudden increase in barking and then Bradley is there, smiling at him behind the wavy glass of the door. Immediately the barking ceases, although there is a small yap, and then the door opens.

“Hi. Come on in.”

“Hi. Uh. Are you sure she’s going to be okay?”

“Trust me, if anything she’ll rule them with an iron paw… feel free to put her down.”

Jake doesn’t particularly want to, but Bradley is looking expectant, as are the five dogs who are all sitting and waiting obediently. He knows they aren’t all Bradley’s dogs permanently, that he’s fostering three and dog-sitting one, but he can’t remember which one is which. Most of the dogs are normal sized, one is huge though, and he wishes he remembered which one Bradley said was his. Then a cat walks in and insolently stalks in front of the line of dogs and collapses at Bradley’s feet.

“Curtiss,” Bradley states, waving a hand at the cat with a sardonic sigh. The fact that none of the dogs have moved, except one, the largest, whose tail had started wagging enthusiastically makes Jake feel more confident about putting Brisket down. She is nowhere near as disciplined as any of the other dogs. Hell, the cat is probably more disciplined than Brisket, despite the fact it is a cat and takes direction from no one. Understandably she runs from him to Bradley, then to the cat, then back to Jake, then takes turns running to and around each dog and prancing playfully, like she expects them to play with her.

“I’m going to give them the release signal and it’s going to get chaotic, but just trust me okay? They’re well trained.”

He believes it, but sure enough in less than a second there’s barking again, six dogs suddenly all barking and then they’re running and Brisket is chasing after them and Bradley grins at him.

“I gave them the signal for outside. Brewster is too big to not be well trained, and he generally gets all other dogs quickly following his lead.”

“What kind of dog is he again?”

“A Leonberger. He was surrendered to a local shelter because the owners couldn’t afford to keep him. He eats a lot. He went unadopted because of the costs associated with feeding him, raft of potential health issues as he aged and because he had zero training. I’ve had him for five years now.”

“He’s massive,” Jake says, and he knows he’s stating the fucking obvious but when Bradley had said he had just the one big dog, he had never imagined this. He’s pretty sure Brisket is the size of one of his paws.

“Yep. But as I said, he’s very well trained. I work with him every day as well. Come on, I promised you dinner.”

“You cooked?”

“I did, but it’s only one of the five meals I can make, so don’t go thinking I’m accomplished or anything.”

“As long as it’s edible.”

He takes the offered beer, watches as Bradley dishes out some pasta dish along with some garlic bread and then directs him to sit at a high bench on bar stools rather than at the dining table.

“We don’t want Brewster putting his mouth into our food, at least up here we have a slightly better chance of protecting it.”

“I thought you said he was really well trained?”

“Not when I’m eating food. All bets are off if I’m eating.”

Jake laughs and just like it did on Tuesday, conversation flows easily. Bradley can follow his work talk easily, obviously used to Navy talk because of Mav, his own work stories are equal parts hilarious and terrifying. He’s attentive, giving Jake his full attention and he finds he likes that a lot more than he thought he would. They finish dinner, Bradley quickly stacking his dishwasher before feeding the dogs. He watches as Bradley holds their attention before giving them the signal that they can eat and he can’t help but be impressed. He’s pretty sure Brisket is only going to have to look at him and he’s going to cave to her every whim. He does try and look like he’s not a complete soft touch in front of Bradley as he feeds her, but he doesn’t think he succeeds.

They go into the back lawn and throw balls for the dogs, starting an elaborate game of keep-away for about twenty minutes before Bradley offers him dessert. He wants to ask if it’s Bradley himself on offer but doesn’t, instead takes the bowl of fruit and ice-cream and makes himself comfortable on the sofa, apparently safe from Brewster as he’s afraid of the scent of fruit. There’s a collection of boardgames, none of which he’s familiar with so he asks about them and learns that it’s another of Bradley’s hobbies.

When they’re finished he follows Bradley back to the kitchen, notices it’s much quieter, almost dark outside and there’s no more barking and he looks around, suddenly anxious.

“She’s just over there…” Bradley says, his lips twitching with a smile and Jake’s not sure if he’s laughing at him or… oh. That’s fucking cute. Brisket is curled up on Brewster, she’s somehow managed to climb up the almost mountain like body and curl up on top of him. He grabs his phone and snaps a photo, and then a few more because one is never going to be enough.

“She’s all tuckered out… You going to wake her up?”

Jake looks up at Bradley’s tone, and his eyes are hooded and Jake feels an immediate jolt of arousal spark through him.

“No… she looks far too comfortable. Think I need to go to bed too…”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. Show me the way…”

… … …

They’ve not talked about what they’re doing, not in the actual physical and practical sense. Not in terms of sex and he’s definitely been raised in a house with the rule of if you can’t talk about it you shouldn’t be doing it. Which actually only goes so far when you really don’t want to share details of your sex life with your surrogate parents, or hear anything about theirs. He does agree in principle though, and there’s only one way to find out. Conversation hasn’t been difficult between them so he doesn’t expect this to be awkward either. He shifts slightly so he can rest his head on his hand while his other hand runs up and down from Jake’s shoulder to his hip.

“Anything you don’t like?”

“Uh…”

“Anything you do like? Or prefer? I’m easy…”

“Lucky me.”

“Can I touch?”

“Yeah…course.”

Bradley lets his hand rub Jake’s cock through his underwear as he kisses him, enjoys the feel of Jake’s body moving against his hand, body and mouth. Jake’s free hand runs through the hair on his chest, then his shoulders, down his arm before there are blunt nails digging into his ass; then finally a large palm rubs his cock far too fleetingly to be anything more than a frustrating taste before it starts back at the beginning.

“This okay?”

“Yeah, look, if you do something I don’t like I’ll say something okay?”

“And if I do something you like?”

“Actually, you could work on that a little bit more…”

He kisses him hard then, grinds their hips together and palms an ass cheek in his hand, holding Jake tight against him.

“Yeah, fuck…”

He shifts, pushes Jake back to lie on his back and then straddles one of Jake’s thighs. He runs both hands down Jake’s naked chest, leans down to kiss him again, hands on either side of Jake’s shoulders. Jake looks good, is confident with it, Bradley can’t help but find it attractive. He shifts a little, Jake’s hands are all over, hips lifting up to try and rub against him and Bradley would tease him for being impatient but he is starting to feel the same.

Their breathing is getting shallower, and he kisses over Jake’s collar bone, licks a little into the slight dip in his clavicle and assumes it’s a little ticklish from the way Jake laughs a little. He runs a hand down Jake’s side, his mouth moving down his chest but his eyes are on Jake’s neck and mouth, muscles taut and mouth open as he breathes harshly. He’s clearly given up waiting for Bradley to pay attention to his dick, has his own hand rubbing himself, occasionally detouring to rub Bradley’s dick as well. He moves his mouth over Jake’s pectorals, sucks gently at one nipple, wanting to know if this is something Jake –

“Fucking hell,” Jake exclaims, body jerking up as if electrified and Bradley pulls back immediately.

“Good or bad?”

“Good. Do it again …”

Bradley grins and seals his mouth around his right nipple again and sucks, flicking his tongue over the harder nub of flesh in his mouth and Jake’s entire body arches again and Bradley can’t believe how good he looks. How good he feels.

“Fuck, why does that feel so good?”

“Lots of nerve endings…”

“It was a fucking rhetorical question…”

He snorts, lowers his mouth back and presses down with his lower body at the same time, wants to give something for Jake to grind against, push him toward climax. Jake is reading his body easily, his hips angling slightly to thrust against the juncture of his thigh and hip, hands both on Bradley’s lower back urging him closer, pulling him down and Bradley lets a little more of his weight press down. The moan Jake lets out is gratifying and he reaches a hand between them and presses harder, feels the dampness from where he’s leaking pre-come.

“Lube?”

“No, I like it a little, uh, rough… you go ahead though, if you want…”

“Nope, I’m all good…”

His lips are red and swollen and Bradley wants to make him look like this all the time. He runs a finger under the elastic of the underwear and then Jake’s hips are up and he shifts back and out of the way. Watches as Jake pushes them down and he can’t actually get them off with the way Bradley is half-kneeling over him, one thigh between Jake’s legs. He shuffles down the bed. Drags his hands down Jake’s legs, tugs the underwear off before moving back up, placing gentle kisses on knees, thighs and hips before he licks up the length of Jake’s cock, kisses the head and lets his moustache scrape against the skin gently. Jake is shifting, clearly wanting to move more but holding himself back and he’s got far too much control for Bradley’s liking.

He wraps his hand around Jake’s cock, a little firmer than he would usually, but Jake had said he likes it a little rough. He jerks it steadily, watches as Jake’s eyes squeeze shut, mouth opening in a silent gasp and he keeps going. It’s been a while, but he knows how to multitask and he wants to hear and see what will happen next. Knows getting Jake off is likely going to make him come as well. He settles his mouth over the same nipple he’d sucked before, and it’s a little pink, and he sucks again. The resulting words from Jake’s mouth are nonsensical in between loud gasps for air and what he recognizes as his name. He doesn’t say anything, can’t really, with his mouth busy sucking intently. His hand has sped up and he’s resting a fair bit of his weight on Jake’s leg, partly pinning Jake beneath him and his cock is hard and leaking. One of Jake’s hands is fisted in his hair, holding Bradley to his chest and then his whole body goes taut like a rubber band being stretched before it snaps back and then Jake is coming all over his hand and he gentles the sucking to more gentler licks and swirls of his tongue because it’s most likely going to be a little bruised.

“Ungh… fuck…”

He doesn’t bother moving very much, just shoves his own underwear down enough to take his cock in his hand and jerk himself off, hard and desperate to come, no need to try and make it last longer or hold back. He moves enough to kiss Jake and he feels a hand try to come and help him and while he appreciates the intent it isn’t something that is even a consideration right now, he’s too close and he doesn’t need much…

“Bradley…”

Yeah, that’ll do it. He comes with a groan, his come joining Jake’s on his stomach. He rests his forehead against Jake’s neck while he tries to steady his breathing. Their breathing is the only sound he can hear outside of his body, heartbeat pounding in his ears, waits a moment before he lets out a long shuddery breath and kisses Jake on the chin.

“You okay?”

“What’s that saying, ask a stupid question?”

“Get a stupid answer…”

“Yeah.”

He grabs some tissues, passes the box to Jake and they wipe themselves clean and he feels fantastic, hopes Jake feels similarly. He kisses him, takes the dirty tissues from his unresisting fingers and lies down beside him.

“Stupidly okay. You?”

“Yeah. That sounds about right. Damned good for a first run…”

“Mmm. Imagine what it will be like when we’ve got a few more test runs behind us.”

“Always room for improvement.”

“That’s very true… I’m just going to go and let the dogs out but I’ll be right back. If you wanted to stay that is?”

“Yeah, staying sounds good. Just… uh. Brisket normally sleeps on the bed with me.”

“Think she’s found a new bed.”

“Lucky for me I won’t be lonely I guess.”

Bradley grins.

… … …

2 MONTHS LATER

He’s running a little late, but not by a lot. He’s messaged both Jake and Mav to say he’s running a bit behind due to a surgery requiring a bit more time. He walks into the restaurant and spies them sitting at a booth near the back, tells the hostess he’s with them and raises his hand in greeting as Mav is standing to give him a hug.

“Bradley!”

“Hey Mav, good to see you,” Bradley says, returning the tight embrace.

“Good to see you too. You’re looking good. This is… Jake.”

Bradley leans down and gives Jake a kiss, takes his time and licks into his mouth.

“Hi.”

“I hope you don’t meet everyone that way…”

“Only my boyfriend Mav,” Bradley says, laughing. “You didn’t tell him?” he asks Jake.

“Nope, one of my joys in life is keeping him on his toes,” Jake says, grinning at them both as they sit. Mav is rolling his eyes and huffing, but Bradley can tell he’s a little pleased. At least he knows now why Bradley really didn’t care about him inviting someone else along to dinner.

“How long has this been going on?” Mav asks, looking between them with interest.

“Couple of months,” Bradley provides.

“You move fast,” Mav says to Jake dryly.

“What can I say? I know a good thing when I see one.”

“Plus Brisket loves me.”

“She does have exceptional taste.”

“Much like her owner. Although don’t you get the names mixed up? Brisket, Bradley and Brewster? There’s definitely a theme there…”

Jake blinks, looks at Bradley and he just shrugs.

“We could get a couple more pets and name them Brownie and Bruno and you’d have the whole set.”

Jake laughs, eye brow quirks;

“Sounds like a plan.”

#Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #AU where Bradley is not a Naval Aviator

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jesuschristmattyhealy · 1 year

Text

you're the only one I want to see

to the anon who suggested this idea: I hope you know it has become a permanent installment of my before-bed-fantasy-dream-time. this is very much inspired by the Andrew/Amelia Golden Globe's interview, hence the title. thanks to @hereyeswerefilledwiththestars for the reader's interview theme I appreciate you bestie <33 hope you all enjoy comments and feedback is always appreciated. ilysm

////

“I think you’re being summoned.”

“Am I?”

You watch in professional disbelief as Harry Styles turns in profile to find that, yes, his publicist is waving him onto the next interview.

“Oh, yeah,” he pouts, “So sad, I was having such a good time chatting.”

“Don’t worry,” you reply with an air of chumminess you can’t quite believe is coming across as effortless, “We’ll find a time soon, darling, I promise.”

“They can’t keep us apart, I won’t let them,” he declares, “Keep up the good work.”

“I’ll certainly try!” You call after his retreating back. As soon as he’s out of ear and eye shot you double over, wheezing to the camera man, “I can’t believe I just had a full conversation with him.”

It’s the 2023 Britt Awards and British GQ has hired you as a representative for the red carpet, after your web series gained popularity and got you noticed by large publications across Europe and America. In a world where every interview has to have a schtick, yours is called “Two Drink Minimum,” a show where you invite celebrities out for at least two drinks and ask them increasingly more ridiculous questions as the night progresses. So far, you’ve hosted names such as Pedro Pascal, Bryce Dallas Howard and Jonathon Van Ness and in the new year, it seems like everyone’s publicist is in your inbox asking for a feature. Your career has led you to a lot of “pinch me” moments, but watching Harry Styles’ ever-sequined back sauntering away from you calls for a punch square in the face.

Suddenly, a male voice pulls you from your star-struck stupor.

“I was hoping you’d be here.”

You start, spinning around to come face to face with the man who decorated both your high school bedroom and college dorm room, and your phone lockscreen for as long as you can remember having one. Matty Healy, wearing a dark green suit and an amused smile.

You press a hand to your chest, “You scared me-”

Instinctively, he reaches for your forearm, “-oh no, I didn’t mean to scare you-”

You grip the sleeve of his suit, hardly believing his real skin and bone is beneath it, “-you just materialized out of nowhere-”

“-I was just so excited to see you, I couldn’t help myself.” He giggles — really giggles.

You can feel your face heating up in spite of yourself, “Wha- excited to see me? Matty Healy please-”

“No, really, ask the boys I’ve been dying to meet you.”

The knowledge that the men of the 1975 have even mentioned your name, let alone had full conversations about you, is almost too much to handle. You search for a word, anything really, that might be appropriate. Your brain feels like hot pea soup.

“And where is your… gang this evening?”

His brow furrows, you immediately regret saying anything. Staring at him might’ve even been better.

His lips turn up at the end, “Gang?-”

You’re already explaining yourself, “I don’t know why I said that you’re-”

He’s smiling full on now, like he knows something you don’t,“Yeah, there’s a name for what we are, love, it’s a-”

“- A band, I’m sorry it’s just that I’ve been talking to Harry Styles and I’ve lost all cognitive ability,” you joke, gesturing wildly at your forehead.

He rolls his eyes, the smile becomes a smirk, “Oh that’s it, is it, you’re still thinking about him? Should I leave, should I go find him for you?” He points his thumb behind him, already turning to go.

You reach for his arm again, giggling at his sarcasm, “No, no, Matty that’s not what I meant-”

“- No it’s alright, I don’t want to stand in the way of true love.” He waves one hand at you, the other loosely holds your finger tips.

“No, honestly what it is is that I’m actually getting really nervous around you but I was embarrassed so I used Harry as a cover,” Truer words had never been spoken.

He’s nodding, a single strand of hair tickling his eyebrows,“Oh, there’s the backpedal, no it’s alright the damage is done, I see where I stand. Just England’s second best male pop star, that’s alright.”

You whistle through your teeth, donning a jokingly skeptical look,“I don’t know, I feel like Ed Sheeran might have that title.”

His mouth actually falls open at that,“Ed Shee- right I’m leaving, you’ve slandered me for the last time-”

You’re laughing now, the nerves have gone. It feels like you’ve been old friends forever,“No! Matty, don’t give up on us-”

He shakes his head, looking away from you into the crowd, “-after I was so kind and complimentary to you-”

“- you’re right I’m the worst, I’m awful-”

“-telling you how excited I was to see you, practically baring my soul-”

“- please come back, let’s talk about this!”

“Ok, fine you’ve convinced me.” He circles back to you, clasping his hands in front of him. His eyes make a trail from your eyes to your mouth to your necklace back to your eyes. If you weren’t blushing before you certainly are now.

You take a deep breath, “Ok, now you were telling me where your band is.”

“Yeah, they’re queueing at the Glam Bot.”

“Oh, is there a line?”

“Yeah, it’s ages long too, I couldn’t stand there any longer. George is gonna text me when we’re up.”

“Do you have your pose planned?” You ask.

“No, and I’ll tell you what we should probably figure that out because that thing is proper intimidating.”

“Yeah, it comes at you awfully fast doesn’t it?”

“Yes! It’s so fast, I get nervous just watching it.”

“Matty Healy? Afraid of a robot?”

He frowns with his whole face, leaning backwards,“No, no, I’m not. I’m a big guy, I don’t get scared-”

You roll your eyes, laughing through your nose,“That’s right I forgot, forgive me.”

“-It’s fine, just try to remember next time,” He winks at you, just barely so much so you think you might have imagined it, “No, I’m mostly just scared that I’ll blink or something stupid.”

You make a noise of agreement, “Do you want to practice not blinking?”

He bites his lip in thought,“How would we do that, exactly?”

“Easy, we’ll just have a staring contest.”

“Oh yeah, okay .”

You square off, each of you closing your eyes in preparation.

“Ok,” you say, “Counting us down. Three, two, one, go.”

You open your eyes and are immediately met with his stare, dark amber, autumn leaves and the forest at sunrise, maple and mahogany. Your breath catches in your throat. He’s smirking at you again, as if he can read your thoughts. You try to think about neutral things, dogs, going to the grocery store tomorrow, how much your feet hurt right now, just in case he can.

“My eyes hurt already,” You whisper.

He doesn’t say anything, just hums something under his breath. It all feels strangely intimate, all these people in the room and he’s staring at you like you’re the first person he’s ever seen in his life. An idea washes over you suddenly. He’s rocking back and forth slightly on his heels. Just as he moves forward, you lift your hand and snap your fingers in front of his nose. He blinks immediately.

“Ha! You blinked!”

“That’s cheating!” He’s indignant, his Northern accent evident.

“It’s not cheating, I’m just preparing you!” You laugh as he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

“This is so unfair,” he rubs his dry eyes with the heel of his palm.

You pout sarcastically at him. “I’m so sorry, I hope someday you can forgive me.”

“It might take a while,” He wrinkles his nose at you, then is distracted by his phone lighting up i his pocket, “Oh, George is demanding I come back now.”

Your stomach falls slightly, “Yes, go back to your-”

“Gang?” he raises his eyebrows.

“-exactly.”

He touches your arm again, the skin tingles, “So sorry to leave you, I feel like that was probably the most worthless interview you’ve done all night-”

You laugh.

“Not like that it was bad, I just feel like I didn’t give you anything whatsoever.”

You place your hand over your heart, “Don’t worry, it was very impactful to me.”

“Ok, well that’s all that matters,” He’s inching away, lingering slightly, “Maybe we uh… maybe we can have a redo on your show.”

You hum agreement, “Now there’s an idea, Healy.”

“I have good ones sometimes.” He shrugs, thumbs in his pockets.

“I’ll have my people get in touch with your people,” You say, and before you can stop yourself, shoot him a pair of finger guns.

He’s almost turned away, but does a double take, laughing, “Did you just finger gun me?”

“Pretend that didn’t happen.”

“Sure. I’ll see you in there.”

He walks away, giggling still, looking over his shoulder at you. You retreat to the bathroom to call your roommate in hysterics.

#matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #the 1975 fic #im very excited abt this one I must say #hope you all enjoy !!!#mayhaps there is a part two being thunk

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