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tenelkadjowrites · 1 year

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No Secrets At Christmas - Part One - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

PART TWO HERE.

🎄 Summary: Having harbored a crush on your older brother’s best friend, Seonghwa, since you were both kids, you wear a dress to a Christmas dinner in a last ditch attempt to get him to notice you now that you’re a grown woman.

🎄 Word count: 8k

🎄 Genre and warnings: reader with brother’s best friend. fem pronouns for reader. mutual masturbation. dirty talk.

🎄 Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @iusrene - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @multihoe-net - @spiderrenjunfics - @whatudowhennooneseesyou - @jess-1404 - @just-here-to-read-01 - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @rdiamond2727 - @inneratinyrebel - @8tinytings - @mrszackfoster - @xirenex - this tag list is for ppl who have requested to be added to either all my fics or just ateez fics.

this fic is not meant to represent Seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

“I’m having second thoughts about this.”

“About what?”

“This dress. Everything. Existing.”

Hongjoong, who is rubbing his hands together to try to get some warmth into them, glowers at you. Underneath the lights of the restaurant sign, the snow swirling around him and landing in his black hair, wearing his oversized coat, he looks positively diminutive. The snowfall had begun to wind down for the night but his hair seemed intent on catching every final snowflake.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

Seonghwa won’t notice me. He’ll forever see me as the little sister of his best friend. I won’t ever move past the memories of being ten and annoying them to let me hang out. He won’t ever see me as a woman worthy of feeling physically and emotionally attracted to and this trip will end with everything the same.

But since the last thing you feel like doing is spilling your soul outside the front of the restaurant, you just shrug and go, “I dunno.”

“You look great in the dress,” Hongjoong reassures you, heading towards the door, “Come on before we are late. We won’t hear the end of it from your parents.”

He isn’t wrong but it takes a few seconds for your feet to obey your brain and move. You are regretting listening to Hongjoong a few hours prior when he convinced you to buy the dress after discovering it at the thrift store. “Your brother said Seonghwa explicitly asked if you would be here for Christmas. He said he was looking forward to seeing you. Let’s push that advantage!” His speech struck the part of your heart that never quite gave up the crush on Seonghwa that first formed back when you were just ten years old.

But Hongjoong, your best friend of six years, was a convincing speaker with a charming smile and ten minutes later, you left the store with the dress. But now, knowing that seeing Seonghwa for the first time since last Christmas is at hand, you only feel extremely nervous. You are sure that his prior words were out of kindness and respect for the long time friendship he had with your older brother and not indicative of anything else.

The temperature change from standing outside in your bulky coat into the warmth of the restaurant makes you want to shrug out of it immediately but Hongjoong gives you a small shake of his head. “You get to the table with your parents and your brother and Seonghwa and you say hey to everyone as you shrug the jacket off. Make sure you’re near Seonghwa so he can see the dress. If you can’t sit next to him, sit across from him so you’re in his line of sight.” Hongjoong’s lecture in the car drive over is banging around your brain.

Everyone returned to your parents for Christmas, including Hongjoong who simply didn’t have a good enough relationship with his to want to spend the holiday there. Seonghwa, who grew up next door until he moved away after college, also returned to visit his own family as well as spending time seeing your brother. This year, however, due to Seonghwa’s job, he couldn’t fly in until tonight, December 23rd, which severely cut into your already small time with him – another reason wearing the dress made sense back in the thrift store.

The restaurant is bustling with people, the tables decorated with fake candles, wreathes with ornaments hanging off the walls, and a large Christmas tree in one corner which shimmered in lights that softly glowed in warm hues of red and white. Very faintly, instrumental Christmas music played, just enough to add to the atmosphere.

You notice Seonghwa before Hongjoong does. The table is near the back, your parents listening to your older brother talk. Seonghwa’s parents are there as well, nodding in agreement to whatever is being said. The wine glasses are almost empty, the fake candles dancing off the glasses to make them look as if they are twinkling.

And Seonghwa is sitting on one side, leaning back, turning his head to the side slightly as your dad begins to talk. Your heart constricts so quickly and hard that for a second you feel dizzy. He is wearing a black sweater that is a little too large for him, the sleeves extending down the palms of his hands, just his fingers poking out of the soft looking fabric. His hair is different than his last Instagram photo; it is now a sandy blonde. But no hair colour could trick you out of recognizing him with those cheekbones, that jawline and his full lips.

How can I have harboured a crush on the same person this long? It is so ridiculous. Aren’t you supposed to grow out of your childhood crush?

It is then your mom notices you, the entire table turning the attention on the arrival of you and Hongjoong, who wastes no time excitedly soaking up all the attention from everyone, dropping his jacket into the chair next to your brother, giving you the open chair directly across from Seonghwa.

Smushed in hugs from your parents, it takes a little bit to untangle yourself from them as they sit back down. To your surprise, Seonghwa has also stood up to say hello. His close proximity is enough to overload your senses – from the scent of clean laundry, that low voice that is so familiar to you as he says your name in the same fond way he has since you were kids, to his smile which no matter how happy he is always comes across as vaguely uncomfortable.

“Would you like me to take your jacket?” He offers kindly.

You can’t help but glance over at Hongjoong, who is shooting you daggers. He doesn’t have to speak, you know what he is saying – this is the perfect setup! Take advantage of it!

“Yeah, thanks so much, Hwa,” You reply, finally shaking off the cumbersome jacket.

The dress isn’t anything out of the ordinary; it isn’t as if you just showed up in a McQueen gown or something. But it fits you perfectly, hugging you in the right places, drawing the eye to where you would like it to be drawn, while still being simple enough to not be flashy and therefore too much for a Christmas dinner.

Seonghwa’s eyes travel down the length of the dress so quickly that you may have imagined it as he takes the coat from you, his gaze averting as he puts the coat to the side, his back turning to you to ensure it doesn’t fall off the chair where everyone had piled their own jackets.

Disappointment fizzles in your chest as you sit down in the chair across from him, numbly thanking your mom when she tells you the dress is cute. You weren’t sure what your expectations were when Seonghwa saw you in the dress but you were hoping for…some sort of reaction. Something behind his gaze or a compliment or…anything to indicate that he didn’t see you as a little kid anymore. But he seemed unaffected by it, settling down in his seat to rejoin the conversation.

So crushed you are that the magic thrift store dress didn’t work how you hoped that it is easy enough to zone out of the conversation and go through the motions until a subject change catches your attention.

“Wait, what?” You blurt out in confusion.

Seonghwa, who had barely said two words to you since taking the jacket, is now looking at you steadily. “I mean, if you don’t have any extra blankets, that’s fine.”

“No, not about the blanket. You’re staying at our house?”

“No one told you? My parents are remodeling their place pretty extensively so I’m gonna spend Christmas at your place,” Seonghwa explains, “Since you have the guest room. Your parents offered.”

Panic seizes you. This has never happened before. You planned to cry to Hongjoong tonight about how the dress flopped, not be on red alert because Seonghwa would be walking around the place you grew up in, with constant reminders and memories of you as a ten year old kid.

“Where is Hongjoong gonna sleep?” You dislike how accusatory this comes out, as if Seonghwa staying is nothing but a problem.

Hongjoong interjects swiftly, “How spaced out were you? I’m gonna sleep on the pull out couch in the living room. We were just talking about if everyone will have enough blankets.” His expression is neutral but one quick eyebrow raise lets you know he is aware of your panic.

Seonghwa is still staring at you, something flickering behind his gaze for a brief second before he clears his throat delicately. “It’s really okay if there isn’t enough to go around. I always seem have a hotter body temperature than most people and end up kicking off all the sheets in the middle of the night.”

“Sorry, just…no one told me,” You shoot a glare at your brother who looks sheepish, “But that’s great you’re going to be there.” The words sound hollow to your ears and you wonder if Seonghwa can tell.

You aren’t sure how to navigate Christmas knowing Seonghwa will be around 24/7. It meant seeing him in the mornings when you always look the worst, face swollen from sleeping on your side. It meant seeing him after your nightly skincare routine, when your skin is shiny in the least alluring way possible. Seonghwa is always well put together, one of those people who wake up at six am to go for a run like an alien or something, skin flawless and teeth perfectly straight and white while drinking coffee. He even can wrap a gift perfectly as if it is an artform.

Seonghwa’s gaze lingers on you for a moment, eyes trailing down your neck as he replies, “It might be fun. Like old times.” He then turns his attention back to the conversation, discussing what the plans were for Christmas Eve tomorrow.

You slump back in your chair, somehow feeling just like you did at ten years old – annoying and forgettable. You don’t actually want anything to be like old times where you were constantly tagging along with him and your brother, hoping for Seonghwa to notice you.

When the server returns, you speak up. “Could I actually have one of those candy cane cocktails I saw on the menu?”

At least now you are old enough to drink.

Dinner wraps up a couple hours later, with everyone shuffling outside to drive back home. The booze has warmed you up enough that your jacket feels too cumbersome to put back on as you stand next to a shivering Hongjoong. The snow is barely falling now and everyone is loitering just outside the restaurant as if you aren’t all driving to the same destination.

“How are you not cold?” Hongjoong asks, bouncing on the heels of his feet.

You shrug, still sullen and brooding over how the night played out. Your parents finally wrap up the conversation, taking off towards their car with your brother following. Hongjoong is scurrying off towards the rental car that you two picked up from the airport, telling you to hurry up.

There is a shifting behind you that gets your attention and makes you realize that Seonghwa didn’t go with your brother yet. He brushes some snow that has fallen off a tree branch and onto his shoulder, taking a step forward so that he is standing next to you, tilting his face to look at yours. The little bit of snow still coming down forms a small halo on the top of his hair, one lone snowflake landing on his cheekbone, almost melting immediately against his warm skin. Impatiently, he runs his fingers through his hair, shaking the snow off. It’s unfair to be this good looking, you think, staring at him, and it isn’t even balanced out by a shitty personality either. Absolutely no justice in this world.

“That dress,” He begins in an even tone, “Is it new? I can’t recall you wearing it before.”

Glumly, you reply, “Yeah, it’s new, I guess. It was just a couple of bucks at a thrift store.”

Seonghwa walks forward, heading towards where your brother is waiting for him by the car, yelling at him to hurry up, “See you at the house. To your horror.”

You know he is joking but prompted by guilt at your earlier tone, you blurt out, “I’m glad you’re at the house. I was just surprised, that’s all. It’s good you’ll be around for Christmas.”

Seonghwa stops, looking over his shoulder. “The dress looks nice on you,” He says in a stiff tone as if the action of complimenting you feels like a foreign thing.

He resumes walking at a brisk pace, cutting across the parking lot towards the car. Momentarily thrown by the compliment, you watch him for a few seconds, wondering if he just said something nice because everyone else did so at dinner. Seonghwa had always been fastidiously polite and it wouldn’t be out of character for him to do such a thing. Perhaps he realized his error in the middle of dinner and felt too awkward to compliment you at the table, drawing attention to his earlier misstep. His reaction when you removed your jacket showed there was nothing about the dress that left an impact on him so the logic, unfortunately, felt sound.

Standing underneath the lights of the parking lot, watching Seonghwa playfully shove your brother upon approaching him, your heart constricts. How many times at Christmas have you been so close yet so far from Seonghwa? There would be no such Christmas miracle when it came to him; life isn’t a Hallmark movie, after all –

“Hey!” Hongjoong’s irritated voice rings out across the parking lot, getting the attention of a group of people strolling to the front of the restaurant, “I’m freezing my balls off! Can you disassociate in the car?!”

“Oh my god, okay, I’m coming!” You huff back, tugging your coat back on and storming towards the vehicle.

I can’t even have a sad Main Character Moment in the snow, you think exasperated.

You toss your dress on the bed, switching to the Christmas themed pajamas that your mom gave you upon first arriving. Corny but her feelings would be hurt if you didn’t wear them – and fine, the little reindeers on them were kinda cute.

I am not changing my routine just because Seonghwa is here, you scold yourself, leaving to do your skincare routine in the bathroom. It is nearing midnight and the eventful night is coming to a close. Your parents and brother already went to bed, Hongjoong was on the couch downstairs watching a bad Christmas movie and dozing off, leaving just you awake with Seonghwa somewhere in the house.

In the bathroom, which is scented like cinnamon because of course your mom has some holiday scent plugger in the wall, and a hideous looking Santa thing in the corner which feels more Christmas horror movie than comforting, you do your skincare, mulling over the events of the night.

After getting home from dinner, everyone had hot chocolate in the kitchen and Christmas themed cookies (store bought because no one had the knowledge on how to successfully bake). Sitting at the kitchen counter, still in your dress, even the snacks couldn’t perk you up. Morose, you tried not to watch Seonghwa out of the corner of your eye. In his dress slacks and sweater, he looked like the sort of dream boyfriend conjured up in a romcom or something, the type that would cuddle you by the fireplace on Christmas Eve. Eventually, he would settle down with someone and do that with them and not you.

“You gonna finish your cookie?” Hongjoong asked, his mouth stuffed with one of the ones shaped like a snowman.

You pushed the gingerbread one towards him, your heart not in eating anymore – neither was your stomach, honestly. Between dinner, the cocktail, and the sweets, you were full enough.

Seonghwa laughed then at a joke your brother told, drawing your attention back to him. Your eyes meet briefly, his gaze falling away first, taking your heart with it.

Miserable Christmas, you think back in the present moment, finishing up your skincare routine. Tragic, actually, how you had put to bed any hope of Seonghwa caring about you only for it to come back stronger than ever just because your silly brother said that he asked about you. Why the hell were you taking anything your brother said as fact? The man once cooked a frozen pizza with the cardboard still on the bottom in the oven for fucks sake. Seonghwa probably had just said he was looking forward to seeing everyone, not you specifically.

Upon leaving the bathroom, you can see that Seonghwa is now in the guest room down the hall from the fact the door cracked slightly open, a sliver of light on the hallway floor. Your brother’s room is in between yours and his, closed and dark since he is already asleep.

You bite your bottom lip, debating if saying goodnight to Seonghwa would be out of character for you. Desperate, yes, but would he find it odd? The temperature has dropped considerably the last few hours and you wonder if bringing him a blanket would make amends for your earlier frosty tone towards him.

Going back to your room, you sigh, wondering if you kept your TV on low if it would bother anyone. If there is one thing that is annoying about your parents house, it’s that it is old and noise travels easily.

It is then that you realize the dress isn’t on your bed. Frowning, you double and triple check the bed, shaking out the bedsheets but it isn’t there. Curiously, you start scouring the floor, wondering if you had been so emotional that you thought the dress ended up on the bed but it fell elsewhere.

But the dress doesn’t turn up. After checking underneath the bed, you huff, scanning the room from your spot on the floor. You swore that after changing, the dress was on the bed. Where else could it be? Not like it matters. It was a couple of dollars and I won’t ever wear it again, you think, turning your attention back to giving Seonghwa a blanket.

The dress forgotten, assuming it will show up once you stop looking for it, you find an extra blanket and slip back out into the hallway. The light is still on in the guest room. Seonghwa might never have feelings for me but I still don’t wanna make things weird.

The sliver of light that pours out the crack of the door slices cleanly across the hallway floor as you approach. Your feet are cold against the floor, making you regret not putting socks on. You are mentally practicing what to say and the friendly tone in which to say it, your hand going to the door handle.

“Seonghwa,” You whisper but there is no reply – he either hasn’t heard you or your voice is too soft, “Hwa?”

You hear a low noise, impossible to make out, but you assume it is Seonghwa replying to come in. Pushing the door open a little, the pool of light unspooling around your feet, your body slips inside, getting ready to offer the blanket as a peace offering.

But the sight in front of you seems to crack all the words to a thousand pieces as you try to understand what exactly is happening. In fact, it is as if time slows down, just to give you extra time to process it.

Seonghwa is against the dresser, oblivious to the fact you have entered the room. He had not, in fact, been replying that it was okay to enter. Actually, he probably would rather you didn’t walk in on him at the moment. His head is rolled back, his pajama bottoms and boxers tugged down slightly, enough so that he could get a firm grip on his cock as he jerks off into a piece of fabric that suspiciously looks exactly like your missing dress.

He is biting down hard on his bottom lip, clearly trying to be as quiet as possible, given how sound travels in the house, something he would be well aware of having stayed the night here a thousand times before. He is jerking himself off hard and fast, your dress wrapped around his cock, stroking the fabric over his length. His eyes are tightly shut, a ragged gasp leaving his mouth.

You don’t know what to do. Seeing Seonghwa jerking off would be enough to fry your brain any given day. But it is the sight of your dress wrapped around his cock that is really driving home what a surreal sight you have stumbled into. A thousand questions swirl around your mind – did he take my dress? Why would he take it? I mean, obviously he took it because how else would it end up wrapped around his dick? But why? Maybe he has some…fabric fetish I don’t know about and my dress is made of it…because the only other reason he would steal it would mean it had to do with me somehow and that is impossible…

His hand is a blur, the dress growing sticky as his precum spills out onto it. The entire time spanning from entering the room and realizing what is going on only took a matter of seconds. And as your thoughts come to a close, you emit a tiny noise of surprise –

Enough to have Seonghwa’s eyes snap open, his head looking down sharply in your direction. Shocked, you stumble, accidentally striking the door, closing it with a soft click, your back against the frame. Seonghwa looks horrified, his face draining of colour as he hastily drops the dress to the floor, trying to pull his pants back up and attempting to speak at the same time you do. The result is gibberish, bumbling words from both of you colliding in the middle of the room.

But it is Seonghwa’s hushed voice that finally overpowers yours, looking absolutely panicked. “I am so sorry! I am so sorry! I didn’t – I know – I don’t know what came over me, I was going to go to the bathroom and I peaked in your room and saw it on the bed and realized you weren’t in there and I just –” His chest rises and falls rapidly, his hands in front of his pants to hide the bulge.

“I don’t –”

But Seonghwa cuts you off before you can finish, that terrified look still in his eyes, rooted in place. “I’m so sorry. It’s so disgusting, I know. I know, I’m terrible and it’s wrong of me. But please don’t…don’t tell your brother! I promised him –” He swallows hard, looking away from you.

“What? You promised my brother what?” You take a step towards him without realizing it.

You have never seen Seonghwa look so terrified. There is not an ounce of colour in his face and his bottom lip trembles for a moment as if he is torn on telling you more information or scurrying underneath the bed to hide. You aren’t even sure how you’re feeling in the moment because the only thing you can think about is clarifying the entire situation before your brain jumps to some conclusion that could lead to heartbreak.

“Promised him that I would never…never approach you in that way,” The words sound strangled leaving Seonghwa’s mouth, “A long time ago. Years ago. Before anything changed.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The words are incredibly hostile, tinged with anxiety. Instead of anything becoming clearer, things just kept getting more muddled.

Seonghwa blanches at your tone and doesn’t reply, leaving you frazzled and making another attempt at figuring things out.

“Hwa…why did you steal my dress?” Another step forward, the distance growing smaller.

His eyes fall to the floor as he mumbles, “I…liked how you looked in it.”

You try to keep your expression neutral but the surprise you feel is intense. His reaction at the restaurant made you think he barely even noticed the dress.

“So, you…stole it?”

His cheeks flush with the first hint of colour since you caught him as he replies, “I saw your bedroom door open and the dress was on the bed. You were in the bathroom. So, I took it because I know I can’t do anything with you. Years ago, your brother had me promise not to ever date you. I agreed because I never saw you like that. He’s the older brother, he’s protective, so sure why not,” Seonghwa speaks more easily when he is looking down at the floor, his shoulders stiff as if he is wading through a jungle full of daggers with each word he utters, “I didn’t think much of it until last Christmas.”

“Last Christmas?” You reply, confused, unable to recall anything that stuck out from last year.

“I came over early one morning with coffee for everyone. You walked downstairs to get some because you were a little hungover the night before.”

“I remember,” You interrupt, “We were drinking and watching some stupid romcom the night before. I woke up with a headache,” You are still baffled as to where this story could be going, “I was going to make coffee and then you were already in the kitchen with some from that local place a couple blocks over.”

“Right.” He looks relieved that you remember and takes a small breath before continuing, “You came downstairs in these…little shorts. They had gingerbread men cookies on them. Even though it had snowed the night before and it was cold, you had fallen asleep in them cuz the booze made you warm the night prior. And I…couldn’t stop staring at your…ass in the shorts.” His face is starting to turn a bright red as he shifts slightly, making you realize the memory is getting him hard again.

You can only stare, shocked into silence at the fact some pair of ugly Christmas shorts you only got because they were on sale in the discount bin caught Seonghwa’s attention.

“I felt horrible every time I looked at you.”

“Wow, thanks,” You reply dryly causing Seonghwa to look horrified, his head snapping up.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” He exclaims.

Alarmed at the change in volume, you hurry over, shushing him. “You know how sound travels in this house! Do you want anyone hearing what we are talking about?”

Whispering now, Seonghwa explains, “I felt horrible because I knew what I promised your brother and here I was, checking out your ass over coffee. I didn’t know what was going on with me. But suddenly, I just kept staring until Christmas morning, after we opened gifts, I snuck off and…”

“And?” You prompt, chest tight from an overload of information that you never thought could exist.

“I jerked off to you,” He says so quickly that if you hadn’t been so familiar with the way he spoke, you would have missed the words completely. “And then the rest of the trip was torment. Just standing near you made me hard. I started noticing all these things about you I never had before. It was suffocating. By the time the trip ended, I was out of my mind. Leaving was a relief. That’s why I flew in so late this year. I lied and told your brother it was because of work but in reality I just didn’t want to be around you as much. I told myself if I came here for a few days instead of the full week, I could manage it more easily. But then you showed up in that dress and…”

“You didn’t even react to the dress!” You hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet, “You barely glanced at it.”

“Of course I didn’t!” Seonghwa snaps back, “Are you crazy? I was even kicking myself for slipping up outside of the restaurant and talking to you about it afraid that I was revealing too much. Especially after my other mistake of telling your brother I was looking forward to seeing you!”

Due to the whispering, the two of you are close now. Seonghwa’s back is still pressed against the dresser, the dress in a ball at his feet. The entire conversation feels ridiculous, something you’d make up in a pathetic little fantasy before going to bed.

“So, you liked the dress on me?” You dislike how frail the question sounds and the fact you are still looking for approval but it doesn’t seem like Seonghwa notices because he closes his eyes briefly at your question.

“Yes, I liked the dress. I liked it too much because when I saw it on the bed, I remembered you saying it was from a thrift store and only cost a couple of dollars. I used that to brush aside the guilt at stealing it and uh…”

“Jerking off into it?”

“I thought I could finish quickly, clean it sneakily and then just drop it somewhere in your room.” That look of embarrassment returns. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’m sorry. Please, do not mention this to your brother. Please, forget that this ever happened. I never wanted to change the dynamic between us.”

Well, I do, you think although the words don’t leave your mouth. You are struggling enough trying to wrap your brain around the turn of events that has just been slammed in your direction.

In all your random fantasies and daydreams about Seonghwa over the years, not one of them ever included the possibility that he could be down bad enough to steal your dress, or desperate enough for you to cut his trip short. In no universe did you expect Seonghwa to ever desire you and now that it has suddenly landed in your lap, all you can do is stare at him.

When you don’t reply, Seonghwa looks even more alert, immediately beginning to babble once again, apologies toppling out of his mouth in a quiet yet strained tone. There is something in his voice you have never heard before, a sort of fragility that sharply shifts away from the ever untouchable image you have crafted of him in your mind over the years to someone that is now expressing a panicked vulnerability you didn’t think could ever be directed at you.

It is that same fragility that gives you a confidence you haven’t felt around Seonghwa before, that same fragility that propels you to perch on the edge of his bed, gesturing to the dress on the floor.

“Well, don’t mind me. Just go back to what you were doing before I entered.”

Seognhwa stops speaking immediately as if he was a DVD disc that someone abruptly ejected. His breathing is shallow, swallowing hard, eyes darting from your face down to the dress at his feet.

“What?” is all he finally says.

“I came by to give you a blanket as an apology for my tone earlier. I should have knocked louder. I clearly interrupted something that you were very busy with. So, please, don’t let me stop you.”

Seonghwa stares at you, uncomprehending. You motion to the dress again and he swallows once more, balking at what you are suggesting.

“I…I can’t.”

“Why not?” You prompt, “You already were doing it.”

“It’s wrong.”

“Then why were you doing it?”

Seonghwa opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, his face so red that he might combust on the spot. But by the way he is shifting his hands in front of his pants again, you know that he is growing hard. Your thighs clench, your head still spinning at how everything is playing out.

You speak again, “If it was wrong before and you were doing it, then how does continuing what you were doing matter? You already decided that it being ‘wrong’ didn’t matter enough to stop in the first place.”

In a strangled voice, Seonghwa goes, “It’s wrong because I promised your brother I wouldn’t ever…do anything like that with you. If it remains my secret, then that’s just something I have to live with.”

“Well, it isn’t your secret anymore,” You bite your bottom lip, hesitating for a moment before saying, “Besides, we have the same secret. I’ve thought about you like that for….way longer than you’ve thought about me. I’ve liked you since we were kids,” The admission hangs in the air and you stare at Seonghwa defiantly, “So, either tell me to go because this promise you made to my brother matters more or finish what you started.”

There. You left the option up to him as terrifying as it was to do so. He knew the truth now just like you did about him; the two of you are now on equal footing. Of course, if Seonghwa opted to send you from the room, you could never show your face to him again. The entire turn of events, from trying to impress him in the dress to then discovering the very same dress wrapped around his dick, would be impossible to forget.

Seonghwa looks taken aback by your confession which gives you a little bit of comfort that your crush over the years has not been so glaringly obvious. He stares at you, his lips parted slightly, his eyes dropping to the dress at his feet. In the silence, you can just barely hear the Christmas movie Hongjoong fell asleep during still playing downstairs.

Seonghwa swallows. “Maybe you had a point. Before. About the promise. I feel like it is wrong to do what I’m doing but I’m still doing it,” He bends down to scoop up the dress, the fabric grazing across his fingers as he brings it up, straightening himself. He clutches the dress nervously while going, “So, I should see it through.”

You let out the breath you didn’t even realizing was being held. Your heart is skipping wildly, watching as Seonghwa brings his hand downward to wiggle underneath his pants, stroking himself through his boxers. Tearing your gaze away from the sight, you lock eyes with him.

“You just gonna watch me?” He asks tentatively as the tent in his pants grows evident.

You nod and then quietly add on, “Like I said. You’re just finishing what you started earlier.”

His breath catches at the words, his other hand tightening around the dress until it’s a ball in the palm of his hand. He is rubbing himself harder now, the bulge growing larger, pressing against his pajama pants. Your pussy is getting wet at the sight, your brain still unable to fully accept what is happening.

Still aware that it is necessary to be quiet, Seonghwa asks in a soft voice, “You think about this before?”

“You like this? With me watching?”

He nods, impatiently rubbing himself. Eventually, his shyness will be defeated by how turned on he is getting, just like you are sure yours will, but for right now, both of you hover at the tipping point.

“I’ve thought about everything,” You reply, “What about you?”

Seonghwa shakes his head, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes, whispering back, “That’s a cop out answer. You caught me jerking off with your dress. Give me something back.”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, knowing he is right. “Yes, I’ve thought about it. You in bed and you can’t sleep and I wake up next to you and realize what you’re doing. And I don’t touch you, I just talk to you until you finish.”

Seonghwa’s eyes close briefly and then he tugs his pajama pants down, his cock hard and confined in his boxers, his hand diving back underneath the band of underwear to touch himself again. It is all you can do not to leap off the bed and jump on him but the entire situation feels akin to walking across thin ice that has formed over a lake and you remain on the edge of the bed.

“What sort of stuff do you say?” He asks, his voice taunt and low.

But you shake your head. “No, now you tell me something you’ve thought about.”

Seonghwa emits a low groan of either embarrassment or from simply being too turned on, you aren’t sure. “I thought about bending you over in the kitchen and fucking you with those shorts down around your ankles,” He huffs out as he finally pulls his cock free of the boxers, wrapping the dress around his length before you can get a good look, “And gripping your ass until my handprints are on your skin as I fuck you. Tell me something else.”

“I thought about visiting you and things got out of hand and next thing I know, I’m bouncing on your dick in your bed until you cum in me.” The words leave your lips hurriedly, your pussy wet and aching to be touched as you watch Seonghwa’s slender fingers jerk himself off, the fabric of the dress seemingly heightening his pleasure.

He opens his eyes then to look at you as precum smears across the dress, continuing to make a mess on it. You have never seen this expression on his face before and only dared to hope to ever see it directed towards you. The room, which felt chilly upon entering, now might as well have a fire roaring in the corner for how hot you feel. Seonghwa’s cheeks are flushed, his lips a bright pink, as he jerks off.

“Do you like watching me?” His voice is soft yet rough, trying to remember that minimal noise needs to be made. You nod, your hand snaking down to rub your pussy through your sweatpants, and Seonghwa watches as if entranced.

You lean back a little, dipping your hand to go underneath the pants and your underwear, your finger diving in between your folds. You’ve never been so wet in your life, your clit aching to be touched. Seonghwa licks his lips quickly as he watches, his speed increasing.

“Can you lift your shirt up?” He requests with a small pant.

You do so, having removed your bra earlier when changing, exposing your bare tits to Seonghwa. His breath hitches, his pupils wide with desire, his chest rising and falling quickly. You pinch one of your nipples, your gaze steady on his face – the same face you have pictured a thousand times making the same expressions he is now, wondering what it would look like when he is turned on. You just never thought he would want you this badly.

Adjusting your position on the bed, you kick your sweatpants off onto the floor, going, “You can’t jerk off in those, I’m still wearing them.”

“You’re making fun of me,” Seonghwa replies although he doesn’t stop jerking off, “Like I don’t feel bad enough for stealing the dress.”

“You feel so bad about stealing the dress that you’re gonna cum all over it,” You remark, spreading your legs open so he can see your underwear sticking to your pussy.

The sight seems to drive Seonghwa crazy, his hips bucking for a brief second, letting out a throaty groan before clamping down on his bottom lip in an effort to quiet himself. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” He lets out with a gasp, staring at your underwear clad pussy.

“You’re a bad friend,” You say and Seonghwa groans again, his eyes closing. It is that response that makes it clear that the anguish he feels over wanting you is a sort of sweet pain that heightens the pleasure – he secretly gets off on the fact it is “wrong” to feel this way about his best friend’s sister.

“I know,” He pants in response, his head bowed, eyes still closed as his hand pumps the dress around his cock.

Your finger brushes against your swollen clit. You are so wet that your finger keeps slipping off your nub while rubbing it furiously. You need to climax, it has become a powerful need to finish because you are too turned on to think clearly. A whimper escapes your lips and Seonghwa looks up to see you getting off, letting out a ragged sigh of his own at the sight.

“I want to watch you cum,” He gasps, his voice shaking from the effort of whispering and to your surprise, he moves away from the dresser to in between your legs, watching the way your finger moves quickly across your clit.

Your shirt pulled up, your tits exposed to him, with your legs spread and hand against your pussy, it is evident that Seonghwa is close to finishing himself. The dress is covered in precum, sticky strands of it across the material, his hand almost a blur as he pumps his cock, practically panting with desire over how much he wants you. Seonghwa has never looked sexier, even counting those times he would come over after going to the gym covered in sweat or the trip everyone took a couple years ago to the beach where he was shirtless daily for a whole week. Right now, nothing matches how positively needy he looks for you, the way the tip of his tongue pokes out slightly from in between his pink lips, how flushed his skin is, the speed at which he jerks himself off or the fact he is drinking in the sight of you like this in front of him as though he cannot get enough.

“Hwa,” You gasp out a little too loudly, your nickname for him since the two of you were kids leaving your mouth in the sluttiest tone of voice you’ve ever heard from yourself.

“I know,” is all he whispers back in a tight voice, “You gotta be quiet though, love, you have to finish quietly for me.”

The gentle reminder has you clamping your mouth shut, eyes closed tightly. But it is the use of the pet name love that brings on your climax, your hips rocking back and forth as you cum as quietly as possible, breathing hard and fast, head rolling back against the bed. Your free hand grabs the sheet so hard that your fingers might break. The orgasm is incredibly intense and it takes all your willpower not to make noise when the only thing you want to do is moan out Seonghwa’s name.

Your hips fall back on the bed, opening your eyes in a daze to look at Seonghwa, who is pumping the dress quickly around his cock, a shudder rolling through him.

You prop yourself up, whispering quietly, “Your turn.”

Grunting, he goes, “I’m gonna finish on your underwear. Gonna cover your cunt in my load.”

“Ruining my dress isn’t enough? You need my underwear too?”

“Y-yes,” His voice snags, he catches the volume and says the next sentence so quietly that you have to strain to hear him, “I’m horrible, I know.”

“Not only are you a bad friend but you’re going to make a big mess on me too,” You murmur softly.

“F-fuck,” Seonghwa grunts, the dress falling out of his grip onto the floor as he positions his cock over your pussy.

He begins to climax, exhaling sharply to try to remain silent as the first spurt of cum covers the front of your pussy, soaking into the fabric of your underwear. Another follows as he unloads all over your pussy, your underwear smeared in his warm cum. His eyes are closed tightly, his breathing ragged as he finishes, his hand milking his cock for every drop. You watch mesmerized at how he looks finishing, at his cum landing on your underwear.

In the silence that ensues in the aftermath of everything, reality seems to hit Seonghwa square in the chest. Immediately, he is back to apologizing for what he did, for ruining the dress and your underwear, tugging his boxers and pants up hurriedly, unable to look at your face.

Yanking your shirt back down, you stare at the cum all over your underwear and with a small sigh, wiggle the pair off your hips, thrusting your hand towards Seonghwa, who is still not looking at you.

“I don’t want to get your cum all over my pants,” You explain patiently as he blushes at the sight, gingerly reaching out and taking the pair from your hands, allowing you to slip back into your pajama pants.

When you stand up, he swallows hard, still holding onto the underwear, which makes you go, “You can keep the dress and the underwear.”

Tongue tied, Seonghwa emits a noise that might be some sort of word. You aren’t sure. You didn’t think it was possible to see him so flustered; the new side of him is endearing.

Finally, he manages to squeak out an ‘okay’ followed by, “Uhm, I should…try to sleep.”

“Me too, orgasms make me tired.”

Seonghwa immediately begins to blush again, another thing you didn’t think he was so prone to doing. Somehow, it makes you like him more, if such a thing is possible. To your surprise, he moves close to you, his voice dropping as low as ever, looking at you through eyelashes so long you feel a stab of envy.

“We can’t…” He clears his throat, “We can’t do anything…more than this. I shouldn’t have – you understand, right?” His eyes flick upwards to meet yours and you can see the mixture of desire and guilt swirling in him.

You take a step towards him, closing the little space remaining. This time, the two of you are almost touching. If you dared to, you could kiss him. You can feel the way his body responds to you, the slight tremble in his bottom lip, the tiny sharp inhale, his hand opening and closing to relieve the tension he is experiencing.

“Hwa,” You whisper, “I want you to fuck me,” Each syllable drips with desire, all pretense wiped clean by what just unfolded, “And now I know that you want to fuck me too. Do you really think we can get through Christmas without having sex?”

“I promised your brother –” His voice dies, his eyes shutting briefly before resuming, “I’ve tried for the past year not to let anyone, including you, think I’ve thought of you as anything other than the sister of my best friend.”

“And you did a wonderful job up until tonight.” The energy between the two of you is palpable, a crackling electricity that seems to buzz and hum, threatening to overflow. “So, why don’t you give me what I want for Christmas and fuck me?”

Seonghwa is speechless, too shy to reply, too wrapped up in what is right and wrong to say another word. You turn around, heading to the door, leaving him standing there with your dress and underwear, knowing that Christmas Eve is going to be truly something else.

PART TWO HERE.

#ateez fics #ateez smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fics #kpop fic #no secrets at christmas #100 notes

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ruthlesscore · 29 days

Note

hello !

i’ve been enjoying your writing for sf6 lately, and i was wondering if you’d be able to write anything for ed?

i don’t have any specific scenario, but can it be with an x reader insert? haha i’m just craving any sort of ed content tbh

thanks !

Ed x Hacker!Reader - Meeting Ed

- This is my first request for SF6! I was already planning on making a Ed related post so this is like killing two birds with one stone! I hope you enjoy! <3 -

You weren't a Street Fighter. You had more brains than those ruffians that go around beating up anything that moves. As an intellectual, you're enrolled in college to peruse your dream in technology. You had friends here and there, like Li-Fen, who lived in Chinatown, and some people who worked in SiRN.

You were from a working class household, only 23, constantly having to pay off your tuition. You didn't have money to afford food sometimes. You started picking up part-time jobs, some were odd, others were impractical. They never lasted long. You frequently got fired for being late or sleeping on the job. Your excuse?

"School's got me brunt out. I'm sorry, it won't happen again!"

and it didn't happen again because now youre jobless. Sitting at home, rotting away in front of your computer, you decided you needed a new job and fast. Something more practical that didn't require you to leave the comfort of your dorm.

You serached for a week or so before coming across this group called Neo Shadoloo. You've heard about Shadoloo from your many conversations with Li-Fen. The experiments they conducted on innocent children disgust you. You were glad they were gone. But if Shadoloo was gone, who the was Neo Shadoloo?

Adding the phone number to your contacts, you messaged the individual names Ed.

I saw the flyer for Neo Shadaloo. You guys hiring?

You got a response almost immediately.

Hell yeah we are. You gotta have some sort of experience in tech. You a hacker? You legit?

Yeah. What do you need done?

Just getting information from certain databases. Anything about Shadaloo, M. Bison, the experiments, or where the remnants might be. I'll send the pay to you later.

And that's the day you started cyber attacks for this strange organization. At first, you felt guilty about this. Then you were uncertain about the job because what you were doing was illegal. But then you looked at the pay and god DAMN. Who cares about morals when this shady organization is sending you 700 zenny per task.

After your first couple of jobs, Ed started to message you about things outside of work, like the history of Shadaloo, sightseeing in Metro, your studies at university, and personal philosophies. Sometimes, when you're up at night, you'd receive a text from him. You don't know if it was because he was under the influence, or that men usually act this way past 10, but he would send messages that were so strange. You couldn't tell if he was flirting or he was telling a bad joke.

You single? Of course you are. Nobody born in the shitty ass city will treat you right.

Ed, what the hell are you talking about?

You like Bratwurst? Ever had one? I could give you one.

Please go to sleep, Ed.

Only if you're sleeping with me.

Promise you'll make me breakfast in the morning?

Yeah, you're delirious. Gtb, ____.

You didn't know him personally, so the meaning is still up for grabs. The morning after these messages, Ed wouldn't even bring it up, if anything, he was avoiding it. Maybe he was under the influence.

After working for Neo Shadaloo for about 3 months, constantly messaging Ed and feeding into his nightly banter, you received a message from Ed.

Hey. I need you to come pick something up from me. It's a hard drive we need decoded. I'll be at the station at Beat Square tonight. Pull through.

You didn't even answer the message. You put your shoes on and headed out the door that night. Of course you were carrying your handy-dandy knife, as you were no fan of fighting. Hopefully no one tries to mug you or something. Heading down into the station and getting onto the train, you ran into a problem. What the hell does Ed even look like? You've never seen a photo of him and he's never seen you. How are you going to meet with someone you don't even know? Then there was a second problem, one running right towards you, a man and Shadaloo fighters.

The man held onto the overhead railing as the train shook. You lost your footing and fell onto the window. Groaning in a tinge of pain, you sit down. The man paid no attention to you. He looked at the Shadaloo fighters.

"Bring it on."

The Shadaloo fighters tried striking him. He dodged with boxer like reflexes. You silently watched the fight go down, completely dumbfounded by how brutal street fights were. God, it was disgusting. You get it, Shadaloo was a bad organization enabling bad behavior, but doing something as petty as strert fighting? Surely, there was a more mature, more intelligent way of handling affairs, right? With god like reflexes, the boxer hit all 3 of the Shadaloo fighters, knocking them to the ground. He managed to maintain his footing, even though the train was moving so unsteadily.

All of a sudden a big fighter came out, pushing the smaller ones out of the way. You pull your knees up to your chest, hoping you'd appear so small that neither the blond boxer or the Shadaloo fighter wouldn't see you. The big one tries to grab the boxer when the train car shook. The boxer's fist was suddenly engulfed in purple flames. Punching the Shadaloo fighter to the other side of the car and using some sort of supernatural ability to pull the fighter back to him, he punched the fighter's face into the ground. There's no denying it. That was Ed and he was using Psycho Power. He didn't even look your way. Once the train stopped, he quickly got off.

Once you got off the train, you quickly looked around for him. You see him and hurriedly walked over to him. With your hood up and mask on, you stopped a few feet away from Ed and showed him your messages with him. He glanced at the message before taking the hard drive out.

"So you're ____, huh. Finally got to put a name to a face."

He looks you up and down.

"Still down for that Bratwurst?"

#sf6 #sf6 x reader #street fighter 6 #ed #ed sf6 #request #street fighter x reader #ed x reader #street fighter ed x reader #sf ed x reader

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reminiscingtonight · 2 years

Text

Forever Isn’t Long Enough

Alex Morgan x Reader

Word Count: 5.4k

[WOSO Masterlist]

You’re excited. It’s the first break after starting college and you couldn’t wait to be home. While you’re more than settled down by now, you can’t help but miss a certain wide eyed brunette that you always hung around at home with.

Growing up with Alex Morgan is no easy feat. It meant countless hours of late night studying, for when her tournaments took her out of town, and acting as her soundboard for whatever crazy idea she had at the moment. It meant waking up at the crack of dawn to "explore your town," despite having grown up in Diamond Bar your whole life, and when you reached high school, driving out to surprise your best friend more than a couple times at her games.

Being friends with Alex is exhausting but also exhilarating. You’ve never met anyone else who could get you to laugh so hard, smile so wide, and love so deeply.

So yes, going to your dream photography school had its perks, but it also made you miss home and the people you spent your whole life with.

You’re in the backyard, chatting with Jeni and Jeri when you hear the patio door open, a familiar gait making its way over. You ignore the looks the two Morgan sisters exchange as you instantly spin around, a wild grin on your face.

You only have a brief moment to brace yourself before Alex is leaping into the air, body crashing into yours as she hugs you tight. She buries her face into the side of your neck and you can only hope she can’t tell how hard your heart is beating.

“Wow, I’ve missed you.”

You only tighten your arms around her harder, not trusting your voice to speak.

It’s only the amused mutterings of Alex’s sisters behind you, the faux annoyed “what are we, dead meat?” that has Alex unwrapping herself from you, matching blushes on both of your faces.

Before either of you have a chance to respond to her sisters, a shadow’s falling over the two of you. Alex’s eyes light up at first but then they nervously turn to yours.

You don’t say anything as the guy wraps an arm around Alex’s shoulder. Something about the way they look so comfortable around each other twists in your gut.

“Hey! I’m Servando, Alex’s boyfriend.”

Boyfriend.

The word takes away all the air in your breath.

Your eyes flit between him and Alex. It’s not hard to tell she’s purposefully avoiding your gaze. “Um, hi, I’m (Y/N).”

His face breaks out into a smile. “Right, Alex’s best friend! She’s talked a lot about you!”

“She has?”

He nods, not taking note of the awkward tension that’s settling down between you and Alex.

Servando falls into a comfortable conversation with the rest of the Morgans. Jeni and Jeri question and tease Alex and Servando, but you just stand there, half-listening as you try to piece together your thoughts.

You’re not sure why Alex didn’t tell you about Servando.

The longer you stay there, the longer it bites at you. Did Alex not trust you? Did she think you would flip out? The two of you are as close as can be, so why didn’t she just tell you about him?

Your feelings for Alex had long moved past friendly, but you were willing to do whatever it took to keep her in your life, even if it meant hiding the way you felt for her. Did Alex somehow find out and this was the non-confrontational way she came to deal with it?

The bitterness swells up and up until you can’t take it anymore. Mustering up a smile, you quietly excuse yourself to get some punch from the kitchen. Although it’s just some regular fruit punch recipe Mrs. Morgan found online years ago, something about the drink always managed to make you feel better.

You’re not sure if it’ll do its job today.

You’ve only separated yourself from the rest of the group for a couple minutes when you hear the kitchen door open behind you. The familiar scent of lavender and honey flows to your nose, and you curse under your breath.

The weight of Alex’s gaze is heavy on your back.

She doesn’t say anything as she settles down beside you at the counter.

You do your best to ignore her, but eventually you can’t take the silence anymore.

“Servando seems nice.”

From the corner of your eye you can see Alex freeze. Then she’s sighing heavily. “I was going to tell you, I swear.”

“Right.” It’s not your intention, but the word comes out clipped, with a bite to it. Without pausing to hand the spoon to Alex’s waiting hand, you forcefully put it back into the bowl and spin on your heels.

Muttering angrily under her breath, Alex follows you as you make your way towards the backyard again. “Look, I don’t know why you’re getting so angry about this.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she mutters, crossing her arms defensively.

“I’m not angry,” you insist, pausing in the hallway before the two of you make it to a more public place. “I just… I don’t know what you expect me to think. We call nearly every day. You’ve never mentioned him once.”

“I don’t need to tell you everything that goes on in my life.”

“I’m not saying you do.”

“Then why are you so annoyed?”

“I’m not,” you repeat, your ire growing with each repetition of your innocence. “I’m just simply wondering why, when we share nearly everything in our lives with each other, you neglected to tell your best friend that you started seeing someone.”

“It just slipped my mind.”

“It just slipped your mind,” you repeat, giving Alex an incredulous look. “Right, and I’m the pope.”

“Fuck off, (Y/N). What I do with my life has nothing to do with you. Just because you can’t do anything without consulting me first doesn’t mean I have the same co-dependency issues!”

You flinch back at the sudden escalation of Alex’s words. Both of your eyes widen, yours in hurt and hers in shock.

It doesn’t take long for the regret to fill the brunette as she realizes her mistake. “(Y/N)--”

You push away her hand, trying to hide the hurt in your eyes. “Just forget about it. Let’s get back before our parents send out a search party.”

You’re stalking away before Alex can stop you, hoping she doesn’t see the way the tears threaten to escape from your eyes.

You spend the rest of the night expertly avoiding Alex. You pretend it doesn’t hurt when she stays away too.

---

It’s not purposeful. At the end of the day, the two of you just get busy and drift apart. You play phone tag for a while, trying to catch each other, but never exchanging more than a couple words. When the two of you are back at home together, you barely see each other. More times than not Servando’s there with her. While you had nothing against him, he really did seem like a good guy, your broken heart just couldn’t handle seeing Alex so enamored with someone else.

So your friendship just fades away.

It hurts, the gap left behind by the loss of such a close friend. But you do your best to move on.

After graduating college you travel the world a bit, adding more to your portfolio. While Alex is out collecting medals and trophies, you start perfecting your technique, drifting farther and farther away from the life you always thought would be waiting for you beside the soccer player.

It doesn’t take you long to establish your own studio. Jobs are plentiful, and now you get paid to travel the world, shooting whatever piques your interest.

This time around, your job landed you in London. It’s been a long and tedious project, but you couldn’t ignore how fun it had been. Everything is now done, and all you have to do is get back to your studio to finish up some last minute fix-ups.

For the first time since landing in London a week ago, you settle down in a small cafe, ready to relax and just soak in the environment.

It’s a fairly nice day so you decide to sit on the patio, soaking in the sun with your tea.

You’re barely a sentence into your book before you’re interrupted.

“(Y/N)?”

Your head snaps up at the familiar voice.

At first glance you think you’re hallucinating. You did hit your head a bit yesterday while climbing a tree to get the perfect shot, but you didn’t think you hit your head that badly. It isn’t until Alex nervously shuffles on her feet that you realize you’ve been gawking at her for too long. You nervously clear your throat, trying to swallow your embarrassment.

“Alex. Hey.”

You hate the way the smile of relief on her face makes your heart skip a beat. “Wow, hi, I didn’t know if I was seeing things or not.”

Nervously chuckling, you shut the book in front of you. Alex awkwardly hovers above the chair in front of you before you’re gesturing for her to take a seat.

You’re acutely aware of the eyes that are looking you up and down. You try not to flush under her gaze.

“You look good.”

Her words only cause your face to redden more. “Coming from a two time world cup winner? Thanks.”

It’s Alex’s turn to blush as she takes in your words. “Stop. You know about that?”

You roll your eyes in fake offense. “Do I know about you winning two world cups? Alex, I don’t live under a rock.”

Growing up with Alex meant going to as many of her games as you could to show your support. While you always loved cameras more than soccer balls, you eventually grew to love watching the sport. This meant even after the two of you drifted apart, you still regularly kept an eye out on the state of the game. And when you heard Alex opted for the draft after graduation, you knew big things were headed towards the field.

You always told the forward that she’d be something special. You’re glad to see that you were right.

The two of you launch into an animated conversation about how cool the last world cup was, and your hopes and dreams for the next one. Alex seems surprised when you tell her how you try to keep up with her sport whenever you can. You choose not to mention the way your eyes stayed glued to her whenever you saw her pop up on your screen. The crinkle in her eyes are worth the two seconds of embarrassment that floods through you.

After a lull in the conversation, Alex suddenly leans forward, bracketing her arms on the table. “What are you doing in London?”

You blink, forgetting that although you knew about Alex’s life after college, she doesn’t know a thing about yours. “I’ve got a photography studio up and running now. I was shooting a new project out here. Just wrapped it up actually. Today’s my last day in town.”

The smile on Alex’s face turns soft, more genuine as she takes in your words. While she was always chasing after a soccer ball, you were always chasing after her, trying to get the perfect shot. “Well I’m glad I ran into you then.”

You return her smile. “Yeah. it’s really good to see you.”

The two of you trade stories back and forth, trying to catch up with all the time you’ve lost. You would think that after such a disappointing end to your friendship it would be a painfully awkward reunion, but the opposite was true. Alex seems genuinely interested in everything you’ve been up to, the same for you. You find yourself blushing under her gaze more than once, cursing your heart for not knowing how to evade her charms even after all this time.

Before you know it, the two of you have talked the morning away.

A shrill beeping has Alex glancing down at her phone. Her face quickly turns sour before she’s swearing under her breath.

“Shit. I have to go.”

You have to fight your frown. You’ve forgotten how nice it is to be around Alex. “Oh, yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.”

“No! No you’re not keeping me or anything. I just forgot that I have a game later today. We have a team meeting in the hotel in,” she looks down at her phone again before blowing out an annoyed breath, “twenty minutes.”

“Right. I heard you guys are playing England or something.”

Alex nods, anxiously looking down at her phone. “I’m so sorry to leave just like this.”

You shrug, trying to give her your best smile despite how disappointed you are to part ways. “No, it’s totally fine. It was nice seeing you.”

Her eyebrows furrow and you can see her thinking hard as she carefully chooses her words. “Actually, um, would you maybe like to come watch the game tonight?”

Alex looks so hopeful and your instinctive move is to say yes. But the rational part of you knows it would be a bad idea. Getting wrapped up in all that was Alex Morgan could never end up well. “I don’t know. I’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”

“Please? It’s just been so long, you know. I’d love it if you could come. We can meet up after and catch up some more?”

“Alex, I--”

“Please?”

Your eyes drop to where her hand has fallen over yours. It’s done out of habit, and you’re suddenly transported back to when you were children. Alex would always hold your hand whenever she tried to get you to agree to some crazy idea of hers. Even she knew back then how weak you were for her.

You want to say no. You really do. But not even a decade of space could change the hold Alex has over you.

“Okay, fine. I guess I can push back my flight tomorrow.”

“Really?” It’s impossible to ignore how cute her entire body lighting up when you agree is. “Okay I’ll send you the tickets and whatnot. I promise you’re gonna have a blast.”

Your heart beats hard the entire time it takes her to walk out of your sight. The second Alex is gone, you rest your head against the table, groaning out in annoyance.

What have you gotten yourself into?

---

You forgot how crazy games could get.

The stadium feels electric, people buzzing at a rate you’ve only ever dreamed of experiencing. This stadium was definitely bigger than any other place you’ve ever been to before and the people are definitely more than pumped to be there.

From the moment the players come out onto the field to the last whistle, you’re on the edge of your seat.

The crowd ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ at every turn of the game. A handful groans of disapproval are also heard, and you have to stifle the smile on your lips every time it comes up. Players clash more than a couple times, every time you’re holding your breath, hoping everyone’s okay.

When the US narrowly comes away with a tie, you’re not ashamed to say you breathe out a huge sigh of relief.

You push your way up to the edge of the stands, getting as close to the field as you can without actively going down. It’s not hard to spot Alex. She’s surrounded by a couple of her teammates, but she’s facing the crowd, scanning for something herself.

You pretend you’re not blushing when the two of you lock eyes and she lights up. Alex makes a beeline for the stands, hopping the divider and propping herself on the bars to be able to hear you. There’s many people calling out her name, but all she gives them are quiet hellos before she’s smiling at you again.

“You came!”

You nervously chuckle, hands awkwardly clenching and unclenching on the railing. “Well I couldn’t let your ticket go to waste now could I?”

Alex leans in closer to you, now completely off the ground, so you can hear her better through the crowd. In the process of doing so, her hand brushes past yours, fingers lingering against your knuckles. You almost pull back, only barely stopping yourself before you completely jerk away.

“Come join me on the field!”

You’re instantly shaking your head. “I don’t want to take you away from your team--”

“It’s fine, they won’t care.”

“Alex.”

“Please?” Alex is giving you the look, and you’re not sure how anyone can resist caving to her demands.

You sigh, shaking your head. You can’t believe you’re gonna follow her words blindly again. “Fine. How do I get down to the field?”

Her face splits into a wide grin. “Jump.”

You blink, the words taking a second to register. When it does, you’re frowning at the brunette. “Are you serious?”

“What? I’ll catch you!” As if proving her words, Alex hops back down onto the ground, widening her stance and opening her arms.

Ignoring how absolutely adorable she’s acting, you sputter out a response. “Alex! I’m sure there’s an easier way to get down than jumping over this railing.”

“Yeah but that’ll take too long,” she shrugs, as if it’s the most obvious thing. “I want you down on the field now.”

You clench your jaw, trying, but failing, to convince yourself to do the rational thing.

It would be so easy to walk away right now. Just turn around and melt into the crowd. You’ll never have to see Alex again. The two of you can go back to pretending the other doesn’t exist.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you put a foot on the railing.

“Scoot.”

Alex does as you say, a grin still on her face.

Blowing out an annoyed breath, you hoist yourself over the railing and fall onto the grass. Alex’s too busy laughing at the weird way you land to do anything helpful as security begins to make their way over.

“Al!”

Still keeled over, Alex quickly waves them away. They walk away with skeptical eyes and you have to try to tug Alex into a standing position.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not! I’m simply laughing at the way you landed. That’s all.”

When it doesn’t look like the forward’s going to stop anytime soon, you feign heading back towards the sideline. “That’s it. I’m leaving.”

At once, Alex is sobering up, hand shooting out to grab your arm. “No! Don’t go!”

It’s hard not to laugh at the alarm on her face.

“Relax, superstar. I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. This stadium is huge. I’d get lost without you.”

Rolling her eyes at you, Alex uses the hand already holding your arm to pull you into a hug. You try not to melt into her touch.

Even after all of these years, Alex’s hugs still managed to make you feel the same way. You’re not sure you’ve met anyone else who could make you feel so loved and safe with just a touch of their hand.

To stop yourself from saying or doing something embarrassing, you blurt out the first thing on your mind.

“Ew, Al, you’re so sweaty.”

Laughing, Alex pulls back before punching you on the shoulder. “You try playing for over 90 minutes without breaking a sweat!”

Before you have the chance to say anything, Alex notices, for the first time tonight, the camera hanging around your neck. She gives your strap a little tug before smirking at you. “You know you’re not on the job right now, right?”

You roll your eyes at her, batting away her hands. “Hey! I got some good shots tonight.”

“Gimme.” In the next moment Alex is lifting your camera away, thumbing through the gallery on instinct.

Your first thought is to yank back your camera and snap at her. You’re a bit protective of your camera, and everyone you worked with knew not to touch it. But then again, this is Alex. You bite your lip as Alex’s eyes widen with each picture.

“Wow, these are good.”

“Well I am a professional photographer, you know.”

Alex simply ignores your quip, clicking through the pictures at rapid speed.

You’re grateful she doesn’t mention anything about how most of the pictures are of her.

A voice popping up from behind your shoulder pops the two of you out of your bubble. “Gone for two seconds and Alex has already picked up a Brit.”

“She’s not British,” Alex immediately shoots back, not even looking up to greet her teammates.

If you weren’t so starstruck, you would have found the idea of Alex picking up a random stranger in mere minutes of meeting extremely hilarious. But then the seconds tick on, Alex doesn’t expand upon your relationship, and you realize the rest of her team actually thinks that Alex just charmed and picked you up at random from the stands.

“And more importantly, Alex did not ‘pick me up’,” you stutter out, well aware of all the looks you’re getting.

At that, Alex finally looks up, eyes sparkling as she throws her head back in a laugh. “Guys, this is my old friend (Y/N).”

You get the normal ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet yous’ from most of her teammates, but one voice in particular captures your attention.”

“Like the (Y/N)?”

Whatever quip you have prepared dies on your tongue. Being teased by Alex’s national teammates is one thing. Having Kelley O’Hara be aware of your existence? Yeah, that’s something else you are wholly unprepared for.

Alex takes a step towards the defender, punching her in the arm before whispering something harshly into her ear. Kelley simply pushes Alex away, sliding up beside you with a grin on her face. “Kelley. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard nothing but good things.”

You can’t do anything but stare as she shakes your hand. You’re sure your soul is leaving your body right now.

Kelley shoots Alex a slightly amused, slightly concerned look. “Alex, is she okay?”

The name of your friend snaps you out of your daze. “You know who I am?”

Kelley laughs, throwing an arm over your shoulder. Okay, now you’re sure you’re dreaming. “Alex’s got like a bajilion pictures of the two of you in her place.”

You quirk an eyebrow towards the forward, and she flushes in her spot. “Two! It’s two pictures! And we’re with our families in one of them!”

---

You’ve been in San Diego for the greater part of a couple weeks now.

You really didn’t mean to stay so long. First it’s Alex convincing you to take some pictures for the Wave. Their lead photographer had been looking for extra hands, and given your background and experience with the sport, it made you a prime candidate.

You’re too weak to say no to her.

After basically guaranteeing your presence in San Diego, Alex’s next step is to offer you her guest bedroom. No matter how many times you declined, she all but forced your hand into agreeing. From guilt tripping, ‘you’re only in San Diego because I kinda forced a job upon you,’ to excuses of catching up, ‘remember how we always wanted to live together as kids?’ to trying to logic her way through things, ‘think about it this way, you’ll be saving so much money crashing here rather than paying out of pocket for a hotel,’ you simply had no defense against what Alex wanted you to do.

So here you are nearly a month later, living out of a suitcase (and half out of Alex’s closet), knowing 100% that you’re fucked again.

It only took the first night of staying with Alex for your feelings to come back up. You cracked a very lame joke, but Alex snorted all the same, nearly shooting tomato soup out of her nose. It’s between handing her napkins and trying your best to get the stains out of her carpet that you swallowed away the guilt of a 20+ year crush.

You can’t help but second guess every single one of your interactions.

When Alex winks at you during practice.

When her hand brushes against yours during your morning runs.

When she props her legs up over yours during your pre-sleep wind downs.

Lately, Alex has gotten into barging into the guest room to binge watch one of her new shows of interest late into the night. It often ends with you waking up the next morning, Alex wrapped up all around you.

Every single interaction with Alex has you biting down on your tongue, trying your hardest not to blurt out “hey, I know we’ve just started reconnecting again after a nearly 10 year break, but I’m still extremely in love with you.” You’re pretty sure that if you said that, not only would she somehow get you fired from your photography gig, she would also throw you out of her house.

Yeah, you aren’t willing to risk any of that.

It definitely doesn’t help when Kelley comes to visit in the days leading up to the quarterfinal game against Chicago. Not only does she gasp in fake outrage when Alex informs the defender that she either needs to get a hotel room or crash on the couch, Kelley, more than a couple times, makes very pointed comments about your living arrangements and relationship. Every time Alex is quick to refute whatever Kelley throws at her, but you can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at every denial.

When San Diego beats Chicago and you’re the first person Alex runs to on the sideline, Kelley’s sure to pull you aside after the game.

“Don’t give me any of that bullshit Alex has been giving me. You be careful with her heart, okay?”

You can’t do anything but nod dumbly at Kelley’s self-satisfied smirk.

Kelley’s words run through your mind all throughout the night and also into the next day. And the next. And the next.

The team goes to Portland.

Alex presses a kiss a little too close to the corner of your mouth when they win 2-1 in extra time.

Your body stays tingling for the rest of the week.

The team goes to DC.

You’re on the sidelines, camera clicking away when Alex scores the game winning goal against Kansas. Your eyes lock across the field. There’s some sort of look in Alex’s eyes that you don’t recognize. She’s being buried by her teammates in the next moment and you don’t put much thought into it.

It’s your shot of Alex jumping in the air into the huddle of her team that’s posted all over San Diego’s socials.

[San Diego Wave, 2022 NWSL Champions]

Alex is freshly showered and getting ready for bed when you knock on her hotel room door.

A tired smile breaks out on her face. “I was starting to wonder where you went.”

You chuckle, leaning against the doorway. “I didn’t go anywhere. You got dragged everywhere by everyone.”

She pouts, leaning back and letting you into her room. While Alex moves to get comfortable in her bed, you stay lingering by the door.

Alex raises an eyebrow at you in question but doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, she sighs out in relief at the soft sheets beneath her.

“So our flight is at 3 in the afternoon tomorrow. Do you want to get lunch with Kelley before we head back?”

You swallow hard. Here comes the hard part. The reason you came to her room in the first place. “I’m going to Seattle.”

Alex pauses, eyes shooting up from her phone. “What?”

You try not to shrink under her gaze. “I just… The season’s over, and I’ve got a project lined up in Seattle.”

Alex is frowning now. She chews on her lip before carefully asking her next question. “When do you go?”

You find it hard to meet Alex’s eyes. “Now actually.”

“Now?” This time there’s a twinge of hurt in Alex’s voice. “The season literally just ended today. Yesterday.” Alex waves her hand to direct her thoughts. “Whatever. You get what I’m saying. You cannot seriously be leaving hours after the last match of the season.”

When she doesn’t get a response, Alex swings her legs off her bed.

“Will you just look at me?” She snaps, finally annoyed from your lack of eye contact.

The second your eyes meet, Alex softens.

She opens her mouth, ready to persuade you to stay once again and you know it has to be now. You have to leave before you fall too deep to get out again.

“I’m sorry, Al. I really am. This has been fun. But I have to go.”

You’re spinning on your heels, your only goal to get out. You’ve only taken a couple steps when you hear her words. They’re quiet, but they cut through the silent room all the same.

“Don’t go. Stay with me.”

Your hand freezes on the doorknob. You don’t move, back still towards the forward.

“I want you to stay.”

You can hear Alex getting up behind you.

“I don’t think I can do this again, Alex.”

No explanation is needed. You know what you mean. And you now know Alex does too. Why else is she constantly trying to use your feelings against you?

You can feel her breath on your neck.

“Please.”

“Al.”

There’s a pair of lips on yours the second you turn around.

Your hands fall to her waist as Alex pulls you in deeper to her. You only managed to take a short breath before your back hits the door, Alex pressing your bodies tight together.

Her lips never leave yours, seemingly getting hungrier with every second they’re against yours. Every push gets a pull in response, every tug gets an equally as reactive movement.

Alex’s hands are everywhere. They fly between cupping your jaw, wrapping around the back of your neck, whatever it takes to keep the two of you pressed together.

You kiss back with everything you have. When Alex swipes her tongue against your lips, you open your mouth, moaning against her. The sound only makes Alex move more desperately against you.

It isn’t until your hands are tugging at the sides of her sweats that Alex realizes the need to slow down. Pulling back, Alex leaves a soft peck upon your lips.

Your eyes flicker open, hazily watching as Alex licks her lips, trying to gather her own thoughts. The sight makes you swallow hard, words dying on the tip of your tongue.

Your bag’s fallen to the floor by now, kicked off to the side. Alex is still pressed tightly against you, barely giving you any space to think.

“Alex.” Her name comes out in a breathless whisper.

“I love you,” she cuts you off, making sure to get in her two cents before you can voice your thoughts. Your heart skips a beat at her words. “I love you and I don’t want you to leave. You can call me selfish or stupid or whatever, but all I know is that I’m in love with you and I don’t want to lose you again.”

Alex is in love with you.

There’s a sort of hopeful look in her eyes as she waits for you to answer.

Alex is in love with you.

All you can do is breathe in shakingly, not wanting to wake up from this cruel dream.

Alex is in love with you.

“Please say something.”

There are so many words you want to say. So many words you’ve been storing since you last admitted you were in love with Alex, back when you were still a teenager.

There’s so many words that you can’t seem to voice a single thought.

You can see the way Alex’s demeanor falters the longer the silence drags on.

You try to find the words to say, but ‘I’ve been in love with you since forever’ doesn’t seem like the most appropriate thing to say.

Instead, this time Alex is the one left gasping when you surge forward, pressing your lips together.

There’d be time for words later. For right now, you just wanted to stay as close to Alex as possible.

#alex morgan x reader #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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sunkissed-zegras · 9 months

Note

🍁will smith

I LOVE WILL SO MUCH. HE'S SUCH A LITTLE SWEETIE PIE.

GUYS. I DON'T KNOW WHY BUT HE'S JUST SO 'fearless' CODED. IT'S THE BLONDE HAIR Y'ALL.

the music blasted through the low-quality speaker of will's old pick-up truck as you both sang along with the words. it was late ─ well, late for you. it was 10:30, well past your curfew but you didn't even care.

today had been the last day of high-school and today was basically the last day you'd be a kid. after this, you were gonna be an adult ─ you were gonna go off to college and then after that, you were going to have a job. a real job, with real people, and that was it ─ that was gonna be your life.

but tonight, that thought didn't even bother you anymore. moments like these, spent in will's very old pick-up truck made you realize that growing up wasn't even that bad.

as the song slowly faded, you let out a soft laugh. will glanced at you with a soft smile on his lips as he continued driving. "you scared?"

"of what?" you replied, nonchalantly. you knew what but you wanted him to be more specific.

"i mean, everything." will responded, plainly. "how our lives gonna be after all this is over." you could see he was anxious, but he attempted to hide it. he kept running his fingers through his hair, a habit you had noticed the first couple times he'd done it while he was with you. the gesture slightly made your heart flutter, his hair just seemed so soft.

"maybe a little bit," you sighed truthfully. "i'm not scared. nervous, maybe? i know we're gonna be okay, if that's what you're asking."

his smile turned genuine as soon he heard those words come out of your mouth. he let out a soft exhale, a breath he didn't even know he was holding until that moment. "okay. good, me too."

"let's not talk about any of that serious stuff, okay?" you replied. "we're both not leaving for a couple of months, not until late august. let's enjoy it while we can, alright?"

will took a few seconds before he nodded slowly, exhaling again. "alright, then."

both of your smiles grew impossibly bigger as he turned the music back on, and suddenly it was like that anxiety inducing conversation had never happened.

soon, your father called and you had to return home. it was okay though, because will asked if he could come over tomorrow too. and since it was finally summer, you could say yes and your parents couldn't use the 'school night' excuse.

he drove to your house and soon, you were both parked outside of your house, on your driveway. like he did everytime, will got out of his car and opened the door for you and walked you to your door. that gesture never failed to make you blush, either.

now, you both stood outside of your front door. will beamed down at you, his blue eyes sparkling in the dimly lit porch. as you reached for the door knob, will spoke up.

"wait."

you looked back at him, a confused expression plastered on your face. as you looked into his blue eyes, you felt it too ─ your heart began to race as he leaned in closer, his hand reaching out for yours, his hand was slightly shaking as well.

you both leaned in and you closed your eyes as you lips met perfectly. it was a small peck, will pulled away first. he put his other hand on your cheek softly before he leaned in again, kissing you with more passion this time.

you both stayed like that for a couple seconds, savoring each other's sweet lips before you both finally pulled away. will had a huge grin on his face as he saw your face slightly turn red.

you finally pulled away, a matching grin on your face as you put your hand on the knob again. "goodnight, will. get home safe."

"night, y/n. see you tomorrow."

MY 100 FOLLOWER CELLY!

#── ✦ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲!#nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl #nhl oneshot #hockey #hockey smut #hockey fic #hockey stuff #ice hockey #hockey blurb #hockey x reader #will smith x reader #will smith x you #will smith blurb #will smith imagine #nhl will smith

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penwieldingdreamer · 1 year

Text

I see myself with you

So first time posting for TG:M and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. I’ve been a fan of Top Gun ever since seeing the first one as a child with my parents and after having seen Top Gun: Maverick a few times now, I couldn’t help the idea coming up. Thanks to @fortheloveoffanfic I finally got around to writing it 😅 It’s going to be a kinda mini series, not sure yet how many parts and drabbles I’ll be able to come up with. Happy reading and let me know what you think

Summary: You see the cowboy, you met during your roadtrip in Texas, in a bar in San Diego - your last stop of the trip. Only this time he is the epitome of coky pilot. (2.1k words)

Warnings: cursing, fluff, a little bit of angst, (is Jake Seresin a warning in itself)

Masterlist | Next Part

(gif by @honeybeedewdrops)

"Please darling, don't forget to be home for your Grandma's birthday, she's already complained twice why you haven't come visiting her when you drove past Frisco."

Sighing, you looked around for Allison who had left you in search of the toilet. "I'm sorry, I'll call her tomorrow. Ally dragged me to a bar, so it's probably going to be late."

"Alright, just be careful and don't let any dipshit talk you up."

With a soft laugh you said your goodbyes and turned back to the barkeep handing out drinks to the other patrons. Looking around you spotted an array of people flitting about - aviators stationed at North Island, financial people dressed up in suits and civilians, just like your friend and you.

For the first time in three years you were back in sunny California, enjoying the smell of the ocean and feeling the salt on your skin. Allison had moved to Europe to study journalism there and being joined at the hip since Kindergarten it was a no-brainer that you followed her, working the few odd jobs here and there to pay for food and rent, not sure if college was where you were headed.

Now that she was done, Ally was thinking of coming back home. "But first, we'll enjoy just driving across the country and going wherever the road goes."

That's how you ended up in San Diego, your last stop after having toured the southern states.

"Whatcha thinkin' bout, hun? That cowboy got your head all jumbled up?" She grinned, taking a seat next to you.

"That cowboy is back in Texas, don't think I'll be seeing him again."

Grabbing the drink from the bar, your friend watched you with a grin. "He left quite an impression on you. Never took you to fall for that southern boy charm."

Laughing at the idiocy of your car breaking down in the middle of Nowhere, Texas, you listened to Ally grumbling in the passenger seat of your rental pick-up

"Fucking hell, we should have stopped back in Dallas. The car's been fucked up for a while."

Taking a deep breath you leaned back against the hood. Your phone had no reception, no way were you going to be able to call a tow truck to get you to a shop. "We gotta sit it out, Ally. I've got no reception right now."

"Ugh, why does it have to be so hot here."

Just as you were about to respond you could hear a loud whistle. Shielding your eyes against the sun. You didn't know if your brain was making it up or if you were just lucky.

"Howdy, ladies."

"Well hello, ladies." A smooth voice with a familiar southern twang washed over you as you watched Ally's eyes bulge. "Can we buy the both of you another round of drinks?"

Moving your eyes over the group of aviators, you shook your head with a soft smile. Allison raised her glass at them and mimicked your action. "Actually Jimmy just made these for us, so we're good."

"Oh come on, it's just a drink." The one standing behind you leaned closer, his breath hot on your neck and you thought you smelled that cologne again, like that one night back in Texas.

Turning around you were met with the same face that had stolen your sleep at night ever since you moved on from the Lone Star State. Jake, the cowboy that had helped you fix the car as well as possible to get to the nearest shop. The guy that took you line dancing one night, and riding the next, so he could take you to the hottest make out spot in town like you were teenagers.

But right now he wasn't Jake, he was someone else. Too cocky for his own good and trying to impress his buddies.

"Yo, Hangman, come on. They're clearly not interested." The dark skinned aviator put his hand on his shoulder, trying to pull his friend away from you.

Shrugging him off, Jake moved his head closer and yet everyone heard what he said. "Last time you couldn't get enough of my darlin'. What's different this time around?"

Next thing he knew, the pilot was drenched in your drink, his mouth agape and trying to keep his eyes from stinging at the alcohol. You had hopped down from the stool and pushed your way through the crowd to get outside. Mourning not having gotten his number when you left to continue your road trip, the days having felt like a dream come true but now you felt relief. His southern charm had been replaced by too much cockiness and thinking he'd get everything with that smirk of his.

Inside, the barkeep sent him a disapproving look and turned back to the other patrons, refilling their drinks and taking on new orders. Allison patted his shoulder and shook her head. "Never thought I'd say this, but you're a fucking asshole Jake." She sent a wink towards his friend and left to find you, knowing it wouldn't be long before you gravitate back towards the cowboy.

“So, how long are you stayin’ here?" Jake asked you, sipping his beer in a bar the next town over.

Shrugging your shoulders you watched Allison laughing and dancing with one of the locals. “I guess as long as it takes to get the car fixed and then we’ll be gone and out of your hair.”

“Ah, don’t worry. Mom’s happy to have you around now that Laurie is back to workin’ and leavin’ the twins with her.” He chuckled, leaning back to look at you. It had been the second day you stayed with the Seresin family on their farm and he couldn’t help searching her out whenever she was near him. Also with him due to leave for TopGun he was glad for the two extra pairs of hands to help his Ma and Pa.

The blonde and you had been staying at the guesthouse, helping with feedings and paddock cleaning at the ranch, although horse riding wasn't too high on your agenda. "I'm not made for riding." You had commented, eyeing the chestnut stallion in his box.

"You know what they say: save a horse ride a" Jake never was able to finish that sentence before you had thrown the hay in his face.

"What?" You saw a smile that brought out his dimples and couldn't help the curiosity about what he was thinking off. "Is it your girl?"

"Nah, actually I was thinkin' of gettin' you to ride out with me tomorrow."

Pursing your lips, you gave him the best glare you could muster but the dark blonde just grinned at you. "I told you, I'll not be getting onto one of those four legged death traps."

Now he couldn't help the full bellied laugh that escaped his lips, the other patrons chuckling as you slid further down in your seat, a deep blush coloring your cheeks and disappearing underneath your shirt.

"Four legged death traps, that's a new one." He took a swig of his beer and pointed a finger at you. "Rowdy is actually really sweet, despite his name and he's the best horse to be on, especially if you've never ridden before. Let's just try it once, maybe you'll like it and it'd be a nice memory before I leave for TopGun."

Your eyes widened at the admission, you hadn’t thought he would be doing something else besides work on his family’s farm and yet the thought of him in a uniform made you tingle, even though there’d never be more between you than stollen looks. "You're leaving? Are you in the Army?"

"Navy, actually."

“So, you’re a sailor?”

Jake let out a soft chuckle, he knew you weren’t around these parts of the world, but curiously never thought you’d not have seen his awards when you were inside the main house. “I’m a pilot. Lieutenant Jake Seresin, at your service ma’am.”

Giggling softly, you couldn't help the smile that stole itself on your lips. Jake saluted you, sending a wink your way as he gulped down the rest of his beer. "Let's make it a date. You, me, Rowdy and Twink and an open field. Maybe a dip in the creek. What d'you say, darlin’?"

Who could say NO to a hot cowboy, who was a Navy pilot and was going to take a dip in the creek with you? - Yeah, no one. So you agreed, getting up with a broad grin the next day to meet Jake at the main house, but were stopped when you saw a bleached blonde hanging onto him, giggling at something he said.

“Come on Jakey, let's take Rowdy and Twink down to the creek and enjoy cooling off after…ya know. Get away from the farm and let the new help handle it with your parents.”

Sally had been his on and off fling since High School and she thought that Jake would be hers alone, but never thought about his first true love - flying his Super Hornet. So every opportunity she had, she'd make sure he'd only have eyes for her, so far it had worked quite well. He was a flirt and cocky, but most of the time a gentleman.

Biting your lip your eyes met his and you turned back towards the main house of the farm before he could react, letting himself be dragged towards the stables by Sally.

“So why were you bragging like that back there?” Javy was the only one left from their little group of aviators after the scene Jake had caused. “Did you want to get her back for not getting her into your bed after all?”

“Fuck, no!” Having freshened up a bit, the sandy blonde ordered around for them both and moved to a quieter corner of the bar, talking and keeping an eye out for you. “I thought she’d flirt back like she used to that day I met her. Sally was totally unplanned and the next day it was as if nothing happened. We said our goodbyes and I left for TopGun.”

“But that’s not all. There must be a reason why you’re an asshole trying to get in her pants. I mean, she’s hot and if you fucked it up, I’d be glad to show her that not only Southerners are gentlemen.” The pilot grinned, taking a large gulp of his beer before he chuckled at the scowl on his friend's face. So far only Coyote had earned that title, the other students not really meshing with Hangman’s cockiness and arrogance, even though he was the best at the school.

“Swear that this conversation won’t leave this place. If you tell anyone I’ll deny it and send your ass to the bottom of the sea.” Placing his hand over his heart, Javy nodded his head. It might not leave the bar at the moment, but it sounded like it was a great piece for black mail. Letting out a soft sigh, Jake leaned forward, his words spoken so quietly that he had trouble making out the sentences. “I wanna be the best of the best because that asshole of a sperm donor told me I couldn’t. My Pa loves my Ma, he loves me as if I’m his own, but Greg left us hanging. I wanna prove that I’m better than him and that makes me do dumb shit and fuck up relationships and friendships. Phoenix is right behind me on the scoreboard but instead of being fair and telling her what a good pilot she is, that voice in the back of my mind tells me I’ll never beat her if I make nice. So, I’ll stick to what I know and start fucking shit up, leave others hanging. Same with women, I’m able to get every girl in this bar, I mean, there’s not much to it if you really think about it, they usually fall all over themselves to score with one of us each night, but with her, I fuck up.”

Blowing out the air he didn’t know he held in his lungs, Coyote watched his friend. Jake had always been different when it was just the two of them. Even back in Lemoore where both of them were stationed. It didn’t matter that they were on different squadrons, but they were friends. “You gotta do some serious groveling if you wanna win her over, but if you stick to your charm and stop the assholness you’ll do just fine.”

“I’m gonna marry her, Javy.”

“Thought you didn’t know anything about her.” He chuckled seeing the grin on Hangman’s face.

“I don’t, but she’s the one for me, that’s all I know.”

Divider © by @top-hhun

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick imagine #top gun imagine

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hockeylovee12 · 1 year

Text

Anyone But Him-Jack Hughes

The next few days following the kiss were awkward you and Jack avoided each other until the last day.

Jack waited until Quinn, Josh and Luke were all distracted and he pulled you away.

“We need to talk about what happened” Jack says in a demanding tone

“Look we kissed it’s not a big deal” you claim despite the fact that you felt it was a big deal

“It is a big deal because I can’t stop thinking about you” Jack says stepping closer to you

“Jack” You say

“Brooke” He replies

“Jack I’m Luke’s best friend he would be so pissed” You claim

“I don’t really care he’ll get over it Brooke all I know is I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t wanna go back to Jersey before I tell you that” Jack says

“So what are we gonna do?” You ask

Jack smiles and leans closer to you and soon you feel the familiar feeling of his lips on yours.

———————————————————————

A few days later Jack returned to New Jersey for training camp and you and Luke moved into your college dorms to start your freshman year.

Luke was in the honors dorm because that’s where all the athletes stay and you were in the psychology building which was only about a 15 minute walk.

You and Jack continued talking and when fall break came around Jack offered to fly you out.

You weren’t sure because you and Luke already made plans to go to the lake with some other friends and you knew he would be suspicious if you changed your plans.

Jack told you he understood but still wished you could come and so did you.

In the middle of November the Devils played the Red Wings in Michigan. Luke also had an away game that same weekend so when the Devils had some free time Jack came to see you.

He knocked on your dorm door and you invited him in.

Immediately he started kissing you.

That night you watched the game on your computer and Jack scored two goals and had an assist.

You made sure to text him a good job text.

———————————————————————

Winter break started a few weeks after and this time you agreed to go to New Jersey you told your parents you were going home with your roommate who coincidentally was actually from New Jersey. She was the only person who knew about you and Jack because for obvious reasons you had to keep it on the DL.

The day after your last final Luke drove you and your roommate Sydney to the airport.

“Promise me you’ll call me when you land” Luke says

“Always” You reply

“Alright love you cookie” Luke says waving you goodbye

“Love you too Lukey” You say

———————————————————————

It was around a two hour plane ride and Sydney’s parents picked her up while you waited for Jack.

He came about 30 minutes late.

“Hey sorry” He says taking your bag

“It’s ok everything good?” You ask

“Ya everything is great now that you are here” Jack says kissing your cheek

You blush.

Jack drives you back to his apartment.

He’s currently living alone because his former roommate was traded and Luke will join him in about a year and he’s going to live with him so there was no reason to get a new one.

Jack puts your bags in his room and the two of you order in dinner and watch movies on the couch.

———————————————————————

On Tuesday the devils had a home game against the Philadelphia and Jack had to be at the rink at 3.

The two of you went out for breakfast and took a pre game nap together before he had to leave.

You spent a few hours hanging out before the game started and you watched on the couch.

The Devils won 7-1 and Jack had a hat trick!!

He was so happy and when he got home the two of you found a way to celebrate.

A/N All images are from Pinterest

#nj devils #jack hughes #luke hughes #hughes brothers #quinn hughes #feel free to interact #jack hughes blurb #Jack Hughes story #anyone but him #original story

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luvcherry · 1 year

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Let Me In [5] ✾

Natasha Romanoff x Reader. Word Count: 8.9k.

Part Four || Part Six ✾ Complete Chatroom Masterlist

Summary: After last night and a morning mix up, Y/n calls up the only person in the city she knows.

Content: slight angst, mentions of past relationship, smut (oral sex).

A/N: Started this chapter some time ago and just now finished it so if there are any continuity errors please let me know! There will be two more chapters after this. Enjoy!

minors, ageless blogs, and blank blogs will be blocked.

Too much sunlight had filled Y/n's hotel room for her liking. Her head was hurting and last night was a bit hazy despite not drinking. She struggled to sleep last night after it took some time to put Kennedy down for the night. The five year old was bothered by the fact that she was at the daycare center later than normal, complaining that Y/n had "forgotten" about her.

She groans as she rolls over in bed, not wanting to open her eyes because the light is too overbearing. She doesn't remember every single detail about last night, but then it comes back to her that she kissed Natasha and she felt a sense of shame. She doesn't understand why she did that, particularly in that moment too.

"Y/n?"

Kennedy's voice was small, but it was just enough for Y/n to hear.

"Yes?" Her voice was just as small and scratchy.

"Is it Saturday? Can we go to the zoo?"

Confusion set in by Kennedy's request. Finally she opened her eyes and she came face to face with the analog clock on the nightstand and it was 40 minutes into her day.

"Shit!"

How she overslept so late, she doesn't understand, but she goes into flight mode as she rushes Kennedy and herself to get ready. Kennedy must've thought it was the weekend because Y/n didn't wake her up at the usual 6am. Y/n felt awful for having to rush her out the door, promising to find a park to take her to if the nice weather persists throughout the day. She also felt bad for driving like a crazy person to the university.

She felt like a complete fuck-up. She goes out for one night, doesn't even drink, yet makes stupid decisions. A part of her almost wishes that she was indeed drunk last night so that way it would be easier to explain her actions. In the back of her mind is that kiss she shared with Natasha. It wasn't particularly passionate, nor did it last that long, but it was a poignant moment -- a moment that left her flustered and embarrassed. She had no time to check her phone until after she dropped Kennedy off at the daycare center, but the only text she had received was from her supervisor Prisha and another from Peter. Anxiety prevented her from opening them. She was 30 minutes late into a very important day. Not only did she want to get in early to prepare for tomorrow's lab assignment, she had a very important seminar to attend. Her colleagues kept talking about it last night at the bar (said event being the reason they needed to "de-stress" by drinking pricey alcohol). Stumbling in late was the last thing she wanted to do, but with it being further from the daycare than the building she usually works in, she realized she had no choice.

Y/n was nearly tripping over her feet trying not to start running to make it before being way too late. A few students looked at her funny as she zoomed past them; even as a full adult she still gets nervous around college-aged students. For a passing moment she wonders what they think of her. She's certain she looks a mess and she feels like one too. Y/n is always under the assumption that everyone else has their life together more than her, even if they're a college student surviving on freezer burnt waffles and a few-days-old carryout. The one thing she was always on top of thought was her job. Waking up late and missing work is not in her character. She hates to admit that last night really tripped her up. She struggled to sleep which led to this disaster.

When the building is finally in sight, Y/n feels a sense of relief. She would only have 15 minutes to prepare for tomorrow's assignment instead of the hour that she desperately needed. She wanted to look on top of things, but instead she looks clumsy. 15 minutes and she'll have to be at the seminar, completely unprepared if she's asked to speak on any of the work she's been doing with this team for the last week. She wanted to go back to the hotel last night and drone over her notes, but she let herself be easily swayed. She's always been so persuadable -- that's what landed her in situations where she gets her feelings hurt. If only she could be more steadfast during the times where it really matters.

For an important seminar to be occurring within minutes, the inside of the building is a little too quiet. Y/n was confused by the lack of people roaming around, but then it hit her that everyone is probably already inside the lecture hall where it's being held. Her body runs cold, goosebumps forming in the face of anxiety. It's the small moments like this that take her back to her childhood; moments that were ostracizing and damning.

She walks up the door to the lecture hall and pulls at the handle. She expected to walk in and have everyone's eyes dart towards her for being the last one to arrive. What she got instead was the door resisting her attempt to pull on it. She furrows her brow in confusion, but tries again -- the door still doesn't budge. Would they lock latecomers out? That doesn't sound right to her so she peers inside and sees absolutely no one through the thick tinted glass. This was the right room, 'M110'; she was sure of it. But, in fear of being wrong and even more late, she finally opens her phone to check her email.

Peter

'Hey, we're going to get lunch since the meeting is canceled. Wanna come with?'

Was he trying to trick her?

Peter wasn't a particularly nefarious person, but he was a little selfish and Y/n wouldn't put it past him to lie to her just so they could spend time together -- even if that meant missing an important meeting. However, once she saw the next text, she knew he wasn't joking.

Prisha

'Good morning Y/n! The seminar had to be canceled at the last minute. Apparently professor Blacksmith has "food poisoning." The seminar has been rescheduled for May 12th, so unfortunately you won't be here for it, but I would always be happy to forward you the notes. Take care!'

Y/n could feel her annoyance through text, however Y/n has never been more relieved. The shock of this morning had finally caught up to her and she was finally processing how hectic everything was. She lets out a laugh in disbelief. She felt like an idiot, and probably looked like one, but it didn't matter because she was relieved.

Whether someone's last minute food poisoning was true or not, she was happy. She had not expected to have a free day in the middle of the week. Usually she would have Kennedy alongside her on her free days, but that doesn't have to be the case today. Would the little girl be pissed that Y/n had a "fun day" without her? Maybe, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her.

Y/n can't remember the last time she had a full day to herself; no work, no Kennedy, and no problems. She loves her job, and loves Kennedy to no end, but a day to herself is something that sounds so foreign to her that she made the impulse to do it. She left the building with a smile on her face. Once again she probably looked like an idiot, but a happy one.

There were a lot of places in the city that Y/n never knew existed. Underground restaurants, book cellars, and a museum for obscure German artists. She looked at everything in awe, like a young girl like Kennedy would, as she walked down the street with nothing but her work bag slung over her shoulder. There was so much that it was excitedly overwhelming. She wondered why Natasha had never taken her to any of these places.

Natasha.

After this morning's fiasco, everything she feels about last night feels so trivial. Y/n is someone with a job -- a career really -- and a kid to look after. Acting like she's still some lovestruck college kid makes her feel childish.

While she wants to learn to have thoughts independent from others influence, that is only she has decided in this moment. It's taking her everything not to wonder if Natasha feels stupid just like her. She also wishes she could allow herself to wonder if Natasha thinks about her different. Did she kiss her to show that she still likes her? Was she just bored and liked the drama of this?

When she realizes that her mind is starting to focus on Natasha's feelings instead of her own, she shakes her head as if it will get all of those thoughts out. She doesn't want to care about what Natasha thinks because it would not help her either way. Yet her declaration of becoming emotionally independent is still premature, which is why she caves in seconds and texts her ex-girlfriend.

Y/n: 'Hey sorry this is so last minute, but are you free?'

Surprisingly, she received a text right back.

'Natasha: Just now taking my lunch. Why? Is everything okay?'

'Y/n: Yeah just wanted to talk about some things'

Their relationship has been discussed many times amongst each other, friends, and whoever would listen. Y/n remembers telling her neighbor's dog about it when she was dog sitting. She would never admit that to anyone, but she had temporarily felt better after it. By that time, she was able to tell the story like a pro. She had almost felt like an actress performing the lines of a play that she has been the star of for more than two years. The foundation of the story was there, and the timeline, but each retelling she would add flair to it. Whether it was a minor detail or her interjecting how she realized something was fucked up and should've known it back then. Her two best friends in college heard the story countless times, and Y/n is sure that if Peter wasn't such a horny freak she would be telling him the story too. The retelling of this story gets dizzying, and Y/n doesn't want it to define her anymore.

She can be normal. She can be around her ex and not harbor any bad feelings towards them. They used to tease her about it, but Y/n grew to admire how Amy could move on from men she dealt with. She wouldn't budge when Y/n pressed her to tell her who Kennedy's father was and to make him be present in her life. She seemed so indifferent about her bad relationships that it put things into perspective for Y/n. Everything that had happened in those years after the end of her first relationship seemed so trivial in comparison. Cutting her family off for good, the unintentional ending of a relationship, death of a friend, and becoming someone's parent were all so massive. Y/n has never had a second to grieve or to process. It's much easier to think about a relationship that was fated to end badly instead of the real world things she had to deal with. It's comforting to think about what is less painful even if it still brings pain.

Y/n thought about turning around when she got to Natasha's building. She's sure the guy at the desk is used to seeing her now, but she's not a regular. She has no idea why she's reaching out to see Natasha, but she won't think too hard about it. She sees this as a moment to herself even though she won't be alone.

"I was kind of surprised when I got a text from you," Natasha says as she welcomes her into her apartment. She is uncharacteristically nervous. She knows last night was an awkward moment for the both of them, and she probably shouldn't have let it happen, but she can't undo time. Y/n doesn't look upset so she can be relieved that she's not going to get chewed out. Still she's dying to know what brings her over here.

"I guess we're both full of surprises."

Y/n had confidence in her as she walked her way to Natasha's apartment, also surprised by herself, but now it had waned a little. She had to make it look like she wasn't here out of desperation. She is just here because Natasha is the only person she knows.

"You can make yourself comfortable on the couch. I'm supposed to be back in 45 minutes, but I can always take an extended lunch."

Y/n watches Natasha unbutton the top two buttons of her blouse. She felt like she was peeking in on an intimate moment and quickly pulled her eyes away. She felt her cheeks warm up when she thinks about how attractive it was. She's always liked how powerful and important Natasha seems. Sure, she works for people with blue Wikipedia names, but she is important too. Maybe it was some repressed fantasy of hers, but she's embarrassingly turned out. She tries to hide her face as if Natasha would be able to read her thoughts or something like that. Y/n can't stop thinking about what it would be like to have someone come home to her every weekday; to watch them unwind and come to her for comfort. She fantasize a lot over the years, and this time she won't stop herself from indulging a little.

"I'm surprised you don't make your own hours," Y/n jokes in an attempt to hide that she's feeling a little bit outside of herself. She isn't quite turned on because she's still worried that this "outing" might turn into a disaster.

"Oh make no mistake, I definitely do," Natasha then puts down her work briefcase. Sometimes she feels like an asshole when talking about her job, but she also likes showing out too. "I just wouldn't be able to function without a set schedule. I don't want my life to be a free-for-all." Knowing herself, Natasha would probably fall into a cycle of hook-ups and overindulgence if she didn't have the discipline her job forced her to have.

"Many people would love to have a job like that; one where you can set your own hours."

"I realize how lucky I am. Trust me, I do. But, that doesn't mean I should live a structureless life just because I can." Natasha decided in the air chair across from Y/n, who was now getting comfortable being here. "You know, we had dinner here not too long ago, but I feel like we still haven't caught up with each other."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we had to keep our conversation pretty lighthearted due to the child in the room, but that didn't stop us from getting contentious without each other the moment she was out. I know it was hasty to invite you over, but I truly did want to catch up with you. I know you're probably not on Facebook, so even if I did try to look you up I probably wouldn't find anything."

"There's not that much to catch-up on, Natasha."

"C'mon. You landed in Illinois with an entire child with you. I know you explained the situation, but you didn't tell me what your day to day life is like now. I hope I don't come off as rude, but I never expected you to be the type to have a child or want kids."

"It's not something I really thought about, but I kind of had no choice in the situation," Y/n pauses before redirecting a little, "our day to day life is fine. She's a good kid so I don't deal with tantrums and outbursts that much, but at the end of the day she is still five years old. She's very sociable and likes playing with others -- she doesn't like being alone at all. She's the opposite of me as a kid; very inquisitive and ambitious for her age. It puts my childhood into perspective for me."

"That's exactly why I don't plan on having kids. It wouldn't be fair to them either way because I'm too much of a workaholic, but also because I don't want to compare our upbringings and project onto them. Not that you're doing that," Natasha quickly adds, "but it's just that I know myself. I also fear that I will become just like my parents."

Y/n gets what Natasha is saying because she runs into the same problems herself. It's not as bad as she or Natasha might think it would be, but she doesn't try to convince Natasha otherwise -- it's something she would have to experience for herself. However, just Like Natasha thought of her, she could not see Natasha becoming a parent. She's a self-proclaimed workaholic, but Y/n believes she also isn't patient enough.

"I can understand that," is all Y/n says in response.

"I wanted to ask you this at dinner, but felt it was too intrusive. I was wondering to myself if you were here because you're relocating?"

"No, I'm not. I haven't received any offers like that. I am just here temporarily for work."

Natasha runs the risk of sounding desperate of asking Y/n if she would ever consider moving here and working at the university if the opportunity were to arise. She won't lie, if Y/n were to move here she would make an attempt to be in her life somehow. Not necessarily in a romantic way, but more so in a curious way. She can see that Y/n has changed and it's changes that would take more than two weeks to discover. It's possibly her selfish curiosity thinking about what it would look like to live in the same city as Y/n.

"The city is just too big and I'm not sure how Kennedy would adjust. She's five so she doesn't have many friends yet, but I wouldn't want to take her outside of such a familiar environment. Plus I can't imagine how much a two bedroom apartment would cost here."

"Do you like where you live now?"

"It's okay. It's not my dream location, but it's fine. It was really Amy who wanted to move there because she said we needed a 'new change of scenery'. I don't think the Midwest was doing anything for her." Y/n had agreed with her friend at the time because she wanted to be as far away from her parents as possible. She had lied to them about starting a graduate program, but she dropped out of it after the first semester. They were still giving her money for school for a full year before she made the confession. She vividly remembers ending the call and then blocking both of their numbers. Her current home is not her dream location, but it's always been a dream to be out of reach from her parents.

"Do you want something to drink?" Natasha suddenly asks. "It was rude of me not to offer you anything earlier."

"Uh sure. What do you have?"

"I have water, and a lot of unopened wines from investors."

Natasha's job was the most fascinating thing about her. Y/n was never fully sure about exactly what she did, but it seemed important. Natasha seemed to always be on the go.

"I'll take one of the wines. I don't know what would be good, you pick for me."

Natasha was surprised by Y/n's choice. She wasn't the legal drinking age when they were together, but being under the age of 21 would never deter the most determined college student. But, it was obvious that Y/n still wasn't much of a drinker because she was letting Natasha pick her drink. Natasha picked the one with the lowest alcohol content. It was a sweet white wine she has had before and figured that it would be the least offensive to the tongue for Y/n.

"I hope you like it," Natasha hands the glass filled up a quarter way to her ex-girlfriend. She remarks to herself how this doesn't feel awkward at all. Last night was awkward, and that dinner they had was certainly awkward, but today felt like two old friends catching up.

"I hope I do too."

Y/n pauses before taking a sip. She didn't know what to expect, but what she got was something sweet with a bitter punch at the last second before swallowing. It was good, really good. She is not an expert in the different qualities of wines or how different grapes provide a different experience, but she knows this is some good shit. It's hard to imagine that people would give quality, expensive gifts without any romantic or deep feelings attached. The world Natasha lives in is too interesting to her.

"I take it it's good," Natasha feels comfortable enough to tease her when she hears Y/n hum in approval in the glass. The way Y/n drinks it leaves her tempted to pour a glass for herself, but she knows if she pours a glass then she'll kick her feet up and not want to go back out for the rest of the day.

"It's really good. Thank you."

The liquid pools at the corners of her mouth as she downs it faster than she probably should. She has no clue about the low alcohol content, so a placebo effect is bound to take over if she asks for anymore. Luckily for her, she doesn't want to seem eager and doesn't ask Natasha for anymore.

"I can send you home with the bottle if you want. I have enough wine for one person."

"It's fine. I shouldn't drink while I'm away from home with Kennedy. I'd ask you to just give me the name, but it's probably something I can't afford."

Natasha didn't want to seem like an asshole and agree, but Y/n is probably right. She can imagine that she doesn't have the luxury to buy wines imported straight from a European country, nor does she have anyone to give her those things.

"Do you like being able to afford luxury items?" Y/n feels like her question is a bit too straightforward, embarrassing her a little bit, and tries to rectify it by just showing her plain curiosity, "like did you want to have a life opposite of one you had as a kid?"

"I guess so. It's less about living in the exact opposite way I did as I was younger and more so about having freedom and independence to decide how I live. College turned me into a city person and ultimately that comes with being able to afford the bill that comes with living here. I never set out to own luxury items, but it just comes with the territory I guess."

"Is it because you feel pressured by the industry you work in? Your friends I met a long time ago also live here, but they don't particularly live the same way you do. So I don't necessarily think it's a symptom of living in the city." Y/n was doing her best not to psychoanalyze Natasha, but all her nosy questions sounded like she was. For a long time she believed that Natasha's answers to tough questions about herself would somehow tell Y/n about herself. It was a belief that Y/n told herself was stupid and to let go, but with Natasha in front of her it rears its head.

"You could say that. I only care about my career though. I only 'keep up' because I have to. Jobs like this are 40% work and 60% socializing. I was shocked that the first conference I attended after being hired to work for Tony was more of a party than a conference. I was young and didn't want to accept that it wasn't about my talents or accomplishments. Toughest pill to swallow was that you get opportunities for being reliable more so than qualified. However, you also learn that being qualified doesn't mean you're dignified. So many people with better resumes and better references lost opportunities to me simply because I showed up and was ready to be of use. Pair that with me actually knowing what I was doing and you have a lucky situation."

Natasha began to feel like she was talking too much, but it has been a while since she's talked about the early aughts of her career. She remembers those days vividly and how determined she was. She figured that anyone who wanted to distance themselves from the caging of their young life would end up like her. That might not particularly be the case for Y/n though.

"There is a reason I'm at my office more than I am at home despite having the option to completely work from the comfort of my own home," Natasha continues, "I'll still put up with the parties disguised as conferences, but I'll only ever care about the work aspect of my job rather than the play."

"You can't fit anything else into your life, can you? From working late to having to fake it with investors, you really don't seem to have time for anything else."

Natasha sighed. It's true what Y/n is saying, but she doesn't say it out loud because she doesn't want to hurt Y/n's feelings. It's her way of subtly asking if her life could never fit Y/n into it. Natasha's dating habits aren't that much of a secret, but she had been fooling others (and herself) with certain relationships. She had one about 2 years ago that lasted a few months. She wasn't the one to end things for the first time and that was a huge reality check. She was getting too old to be messing around and playing with people's emotions so she decided not to do it at all. She's not available for a relationship, so she made herself unavailable for hook-ups too.

"I could use a hobby or two," Natasha jokes.

"But a relationship?"

"I gave up on that. I'm not saying it isn't important, but it necessarily isn't important to me."

Y/n isn't sure why she felt disappointed by Natasha's revelation. She was saddened by it too. Her first instinct was to blame herself since she believes she was Natasha's last 'real' relationship. But, this is who Natasha has been the entire time, it just took both of them took a while to see it.

"Oh...okay."

Y/n hasn't thought about getting into a new relationship in a long time, but she doesn't see it as something she wants to give up. Natasha was the last person she was with and she really hasn't put any effort into trying to find someone new. It's been almost a decade since their break-up and she figured that someone would magically come along and approach her and she would end up in a loving relationship. That magic never came which discouraged her into not trying. But, she never actually gave up, instead she just daydreamed about it.

"You don't think it's a little harsh to think that way?"

"Not for me; no it isn't."

"But aren't there things you miss about it?"

"Y/n, I'm not saying relationships are a work of the devil," she jokes to take Y/n out of her serious attitude, "I'm just saying I don't plan on having one any time soon. I won't say never because I could always have a near-death-experience and decide to change my life completely afterwards."

"Is that what you really think about relationships? That you would have to nearly die to be in one again?"

Natasha couldn't tell if Y/n was slightly offended or just confused. Sometimes Y/n still acts like she did as a 19 year-old in college. She was only inquisitive because she wanted Natasha to give an answer that would give her insight to the end of their own relationship. Sometimes things just end, she has to accept that.

"Don't take me so seriously Y/n. None of my revelations have anything to do with our relationship.”

Y/n was silent as she began to feel a little bit guilty about asking so many questions. She felt like she was interrogating Natasha when she really didn’t deserve it.

“I haven’t dated much either,” she admits. “I don’t have much time between work and taking care of Kennedy. Maybe when she goes to elementary school and gets a little older I’ll make the effort to find someone. It’s just hard.”

“But it’s not impossible,” Natasha interjects. Natasha doesn’t want Y/n to have a negative outlook on relationships like her.

“You’re right, but you’re also right about how easy it is to just focus on work. I’m not where I want to be in my career, so I feel like I should focus on that instead of dating, when in reality I could do both. It doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

It was sort of a revelation for Y/n, but she’s just scared. It’s hard for her to even consider someone liking her at this point since it has been so long. She knows people find her attractive, but that’s not the same as actually wanting to be with her.

She lets out a sigh and it’s a sigh that Natasha is familiar with. She feels bad that they’ve deviated to this topic because she assumed Y/n came over here to kill some time in a more fun way. Natasha and Y/n don’t stand on stable ground with each other, so she should’ve changed the topic or suggested they do something fun. However, in a way it seems like something that needed to be had — to be able to talk without any animosity.

“Do you wanna get dinner tonight? I can make reservations somewhere and you can bring Kennedy. I don’t know many kid friendly restaurants, but there are a few that my friend has brought her kids to without any problems.”

“I’m not sure. It’s not like I wouldn’t want to, but Kennedy and restaurants don’t really go hand-in-hand. She doesn’t like them that much. But, I’ll consider it.”

“Okay in the meantime we could do something until you make up your mind or until it’s time to go get Kennedy,” Natasha suggests.

“This is your city,” Y/n jokes, “what do you suggest we do?”

Natasha had convinced Y/n to let her take her out to lunch since dinner didn’t seem to be a viable option. There was a restaurant at the heart of the city that Natasha loved and she wanted to take Y/n there. It was only a five-year-old restaurant but was the sister restaurant of another beloved one in New York. Natasha had told her a little bit about it to which Y/n nodded as if she could name a world-renowned restaurant off the top of her head. What Y/n was able to catch onto was Natasha showing off a bit. She told her that normally one would have to reserve a table in advance, but she managed to get them a table for lunch. Y/n finds her zeal a bit amusing; Natasha is undoubtedly trying to impress her.

Neither of them were really dressed for an outing at such a nice place, and to Y/n’s annoyance, they were sitting in the middle of the restaurant. The people around them seem to either be associates meeting to sweeten a deal, or couples with too much money but nothing to do.

It wasn’t just the people around them that had Y/n feeling out of place. When she looked at the menu she thought she was crossing her eyes without knowing it. She was overwhelmed with the combinations of foods on the menu and the entire atmosphere itself. Natasha on the other hand seemed to be comfortable here. She makes comments on the menu about what she likes and what she thinks Y/n would like.

“Do you want wine? I can have them bring out a bottle to our table.”

“No, thank you. Probably not the best idea to get tipsy when I have to go get Kennedy later,” she jokes. Was her discomfort obvious that Natasha believed wine would loosen her up? She tried not to look so shifty, but it was hard. Natasha noticed it, but decided against saying anything in the off chance that she would embarrass Y/n.

“You’re right,” she pauses before looking up from her menu to look at Y/n, “do you think you’re ready to order?”

“I…don’t know? Honestly, you can order for me. Everything on here is confusing,” Y/n admits. She didn’t want to be difficult; it would just be easier to let Natasha decide.

“It’s okay,” Natasha laughs a little, “I was like that my first time here too. The menu only begins to make sense once you’ve been more than five times.”

These things are normal for Natasha, Y/n thinks to herself. She doesn’t struggle reading menus that are a mix of English and another language. Y/n couldn’t stop thinking about how she was dressed appropriately, yet Natasha didn’t seem to care at all.

Y/n leans in which catches Natasha’s attention. She notices how her eyes look from side to side as if she’s about to admit a life-altering secret.

“Being here doesn’t make you feel…weird?”

Natasha mimics Y/n by leaning and whispering, “no.”

Y/n can’t help but feel a little bit childish when she sees her behavior reflected back to her. She sits up straight and clears her throat. She begins to feel bad for making a big deal about where they’re at. She’s also envious of how Natasha is not able to care as much as she does.

“You need to learn to stop worrying. I know, it’s easier said than done, but the years are going to by in a blink and you’ll realize that all you’ve been doing with your life is worrying about things that don’t and never mattered.”

The waiter had interrupted their conversation. Y/n wanted to respond, but she struggled to come up with a rebuttal that wouldn’t sound like an excuse or accusation. She decided to concede because Natasha wasn’t entirely wrong. She’s always worried a lot and the anxiety chipped away at any confidence she was able to build for a short amount of time.

Natasha orders for her and promises that she will like it. Without the menu Y/n realizes that she has to actually engage with Natasha and it sinks in that she’s sitting across from her. She has a habit of feeling bold, agreeing to something, and then the consequences of her actions begin to seep in. Natasha on the other hand seems to be completely relaxed — maybe Y/n should have taken up her offer for the wine.

“When do you leave again?”

“This Saturday…just three more days.”

“Wow, do you have anything special planned?”

“Nothing really. I wanted to take Kennedy somewhere, but it’s very last minute. The Art Institute had one of those family events I think she would’ve enjoyed, but it was sold out.”

“I’m sure I can get you a ticket. My friend Steve works in art and can pull some strings to get you a ticket.”

Y/n thought it was funny that Natasha was talking as if they were working on a business deal. “It’s okay Natasha, it’s not that big of a deal. I can find something to get us out of the hotel.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Besides, it might be nice enough to go to the zoo. Kennedy is obsessed with giraffes and would be very happy to see one in person.”

“I know I asked you when we had dinner last week, but I would like to forget that night if I’m being honest,” Natasha hesitates just a second before continuing, “but are you okay with everything? With being the guardian of a kid, I mean. I don’t want to offend you, but never in a million years would I imagine you raising a kid, let alone by yourself.”

“It’s not easy,” Y/n sighs, “but it feels like something I have to do. I owe it to Amy and to Kennedy herself. I’m really, really bad at it, I know, but all I can do is try. It’s just weird because…I never considered being a mother. I feel like I don’t have a maternal bone in my body, but with Kennedy…my maternal instincts kick in so much. It’s weird.”

“I think that makes sense. It’s very easy to see that you care about her a lot and she cares about you. You seem to be letting her be a person with her own feelings and that’s good.”

It was hard to take the compliment because Y/n is very hyper-critical of herself, but she remembers what Natasha says about just relaxing and she decides to accept it.

The mention of last week's dinner does leave Y/n feeling a little awkward though. Something is nagging at her to bring it up, but it also seems pointless to further talk about it when they’re sitting across from each other now and getting along. But, sometimes Y/n struggles to control her impulses.

“I didn’t mean to cause a problem last week. It was nice of you to invite me over, and I was being a little selfish when I thought it was okay to get mad at you and cause an argument.”

“Y/n, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“But, I feel bad! I left feeling like an idiot and embarrassed because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. It was rude and I’m sorry.”

“Y/n-“

“I didn’t mean to disrespect you or anything or make a fool of myself, and I know it looks stupid that I keep bringing up old shit when you have moved on and I should also move on, but I brought it up anyway. I was causing problems on purpose and it was unfair and childish of me. I-“

“Can you just shut up and let me apologize, Y/n?”

Y/n stopped talking, mostly out of surprise and not obedience from Natasha’s demand. She hadn’t realized she was rambling; she wasn’t thinking at all. She looks at Natasha whose eyes have softened with empathy. Y/n could pretend that she had too much pride to let anyone take pity on her, but all she wanted and needed was for someone to feel and understand her.

“I understand why you were upset last week, and I think you’re right to feel that way. I didn’t have the best intentions back then, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convince you that I wasn’t faking it the entire time. I didn’t expect to actually end up in a relationship with you, and I probably shouldn’t have,” Natasha paused in fear. She was afraid that her words were cutting, but they were the harsh reality. She owes it to Y/n to be honest. “You were young and I was very aware of it. My mistake was thinking that you would’ve been similar to me at that age. Once I was out of my parent’s grasp I ran head first into everything. You weren’t like that, and that’s okay, but my assumptions were wrong. I knew when I was being awful towards you but I didn’t stop. I was wrong Y/n. And, I’m sorry. I know you know that, but you’ve probably wanted to hear me say it for a long time now. You can feel however you want towards me, but you need to move on. I’ll admit that I was shitty, and I’m deeply remorseful about it, but I can’t help you move on.”

It was like wrapping herself in barbed wire to know that Natasha was right. The admission of guilt was appreciated, but not as satisfying as Y/n always expected it to be. She knew that Natasha was wrong and that was always enough. The truth was that she didn’t want to move on. She held onto hope that she would receive a random phone call or facebook message that would be Natasha pouring her heart out saying that what she did to Y/n was her biggest regret in life and that she wants her back. She wanted to feel loved and thought of all of the years later. She wanted her revenge and her apology. Hearing those words “I’m sorry” was more anti-climactic than relieving. Y/n really didn’t need anything from Natasha, she needed something from herself. She needed to trust herself enough.

“I hope I don’t come off as a weirdo…I didn’t want to hold onto something that was done for so long.”

“I don’t think anyone does. I’ve had relationships that took me forever to get over. It’s normal, especially for your first heartbreak. I just don’t want you to have a forever-villain in your life.”

“I know…I know…you’re right about everything too. It’s hard to accept, but I guess that's life.”

“It’s not going to happen overnight, but over time you will realize that you think about it less and less. We don’t have to be the exes that are still friends, but I don’t want to be the exes that can’t move on from each other.”

Their conversation is once again interrupted by the waiter. Y/n wanted the conversation to continue, but it also felt appropriate that it ended where it ended. She’s sure she could talk about this with Natasha for hours and hours, but sometimes it’s best to just let the conversation end.

The dish Natasha picked for Y/n was excellent. It was a savory dish of pasta with the richest sauce she has ever tasted. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to eat like this almost every weekend. Natasha tells her about how she discovered the place, how she came here with her boss and colleagues. Y/n could tell that she wasn’t the best of friends with the people she worked with, but she was more open with them than Y/n is with hers. She’s always heard of people distracting themselves with work and hobbies to forget about heartbreak, and while she tried to do that she never really tried to have a life out of the grief. She didn’t want to minimize what had happened to her best friend by calling herself heartbreak over Natasha grief, but she had mourned a million and one possibilities for years.

“I’m not going to let you talk me out of ordering dessert for us. You haven’t had cheesecake until you’ve had one from here.”

“Can we get it to-go? I don’t think I can eat anymore.”

Natasha nods her head, trying her best to hide her sadness. She didn’t want her time with Y/n to end because she feels like they’ve finally gotten into a good spot. Sure, what they had talked about hadn’t been easy, but it felt like progress had been made for the both of them. Natasha may have not been as stuck on their relationship as Y/n was, but she’s held on for her guilt instead of learning from it.

“Sure.”

Y/n didn’t even try to argue with Natasha about contributing to the bill. She was grateful that Natasha still wanted to be kind to her after all of these years. For a while she wondered if her ex had hated her, but it's been proved again and again that Natasha never hated her.

It had gotten warmer since they first entered the restaurant and the city was in full swing. There were countless places where Natasha could take Y/n next, but she could see that she seemed a bit worn out.

“Where do you want to go now? Do you want to go back to the university?”

“Could we go back to your place for a bit?”

Y/n can remember the exact date and time someone else had touched her. It was just a few months before Amy passed away and her friend had somehow convinced her to go out to a club. It was not the most comfortable place for Y/n, but some woman at the bar had offered to buy her a drink and on a whim she accepted it. The woman had told her that her name was Noah and Y/n almost found an excuse to get away from her simply because her name started with an ‘N’. It had been four years since the break-up at that point, yet the wound felt fresh. However, she didn’t turn away from Noah and let herself be guided to the bathroom where she had a hand between her legs two minutes later.

More than the pleasure of someone’s nimble fingers on her clit was the love of the adrenaline rush the situation had given her. It felt so taboo for her even if it wasn’t uncommon for someone to be getting fingered in the bathroom of a club. But, she was a big girl making big girl decisions and this was the sense of freedom and independence she wanted, even if it wasn’t concrete or genuine. That’s what she had missed about her relationship with Natasha. All of these years she missed the feeling Natasha gave her; a feeling that does not exist within a singular person.

Her mind comes back to reality when her leg rests on Natasha's shoulder. She looks down between her legs and feels like she's not looking at the same person who used to place themselves between her legs before. Natasha was much more cautious knowing that this might not be the best decision on their parts, but she wasn’t doing anything to stop it. Y/n held her breath as Natasha neared the warmth between her legs. This felt like a daydream but Natasha’s fingertips gliding against her outer thighs were very much real.

“You okay?”

“Don’t ask me that.”

If she begins to think too hard, she might change her mind, but she wants to feel the pleasure — she’s desperate for it. No one, not even herself, has touched her in such a way that had made her daydream about it for years and years like Natasha. Her legs tremble in excitement as Natasha touches her in innocuous places. She’s still in her panties, but she’s desperate to wiggle out of them.

“You were always impatient,” Natasha jokes as her fingers hook in the band of Y/n’s panties, “I don’t think you realized how needy you always were. Yet you were so embarrassed at the same time.”

Y/n can remember exactly how Natasha made her feel back then. Similar feelings are bubbling up to the surface, but so are unfamiliar feelings. All she knows is that she wants to be touched and adored like she used to be.

Natasha leaves a wet kiss on her lower belly before pulling her panties down her legs. Y/n wiggles out of the cotton garment before Natasha can pull them off herself. The cool air against her clit makes her gasp and arch her back. It’s been years, but all of her little habits are so memorable. There was something erotic in the way Y/n was uncoordinated in bed. Once she was in the throes of passion her body reacted and moved with raw pleasure, without a single care in the world. Natasha may have apologized for having the tendencies of a scumbag, but she still gets off on leaving an impression on someone so innocent.

“You’re so wet.”

Y/n whimpers when Natasha’s fingers slide through her folds to collect the wetness on her flesh. She was so wet she was almost sticky. She felt like a mess but wanted to be cleaned up by Natasha. She parts her legs wider, inviting Natasha in as if the redhead hadn’t made between her legs home already.

Natasha wanted to ask Y/n was sure again, but she could see it in her eyes that she would just tell her to shut up.

The first touch, the first lick, is always a piece of heaven. Y/n can’t stop herself from loudly moaning and throwing her head back. Natasha’s tongue is wet and heavy against her already soaking pussy. Natasha doesn’t tease her waste any time, she licks at Y/n with a sense of urgency like she might disappear any second now.

“N-Natasha,” Y/n’s name sounds like a prayer of worship on her lips. Her fingers thread through her red hair and she gets a good grip on her. Her fingernails graze Natasha’s scalp in stinging pleasures.

Her tongue presses flatly against Y/n’s clit and the sensitive nub pulses against her tongue. The harder she licks, the more Y/n drips in arousal. Y/n realizes just how wet she is when Natasha wraps her lips around her clit and sucks loudly. It was so lewd that Y/n groaned and her eyes rolled into the back of her thighs. Natasha strokes her sensitive thighs which makes Y/n tremble even more.

“F-Feels so good,” Y/n admits without a tinge of shame. She had missed the feeling of a wet tongue sliding against the most sensitive parts of her body. The way Natasha sucks and bathes her with attention pushes her closer to cumming.

The redhead looks up at her from between her legs and watches her intently. Natasha wishes they hadn’t been so hasty, making out against her front door and then moving over to the couch without a thought. The way Y/n’s chest rises and falls makes her want to take that stupid top off of her so she can see her tits. Her hardened nipples push through the fabric of her shirt and bra. As if she could read her mind, Y/n brings her hands up to her chest and gropes herself through the fabric. She notices that the more she touches herself the harder Natasha sucks on her clit. She was being watched, but she kept her eyes closed to avoid making eye contact.

Y/n and Natasha are too lost in each other to even flinch when one of their phones begins to go off. It could be an important work call for Natasha, or for Y/n it could be someone from the university. Both of them decide that they don’t care. Natasha is too busy feasting on Y/n as if she was the most expensive delicacy on Earth. The last, ripe peach on Earth.

It has been years but God did she miss this. She moans every few seconds from Y/n’s distinct taste; so good and so sweet. Her pussy was soft and dripping for her.

“Please don’t stop,” Y/n begs softly. Stopping was never an option for Natasha. She wants to keep Y/n suspended in this pleasure forever.

Natasha’s tongue moves to flicking against Y/n’s opening slit, close to sliding it into her. She licks, sucks, and hums against her pussy in such an animalistic way. Her tongue slides against every inch of her pussy, re-familiarizing herself with the girl she used to know so well. Y/n trusted her enough to spill every feeling she’s ever had and give her body to her even though it was very hard to do so. Natasha isn’t sure there is anything she could do that would show her how forever grateful she is for her,

“Fuck Natasha…I’m gonna cum!” Y/n whines. She finally opens her eyes to see the redhead wildly eating her out. It drives her dangerously closer to the edge.

“Cum…cum all over my face,” she says between licking her.

Y/n completely lets go, a wave washing over her as she does so. There is the obvious feeling of physical release, but also emotional release. Pleasure mixes with relief as her body gets heavier. Natasha is still between her legs but pulled her mouth away so as to not overwhelm her. Seeing how dazed she looks is sexy to her. She gives a quick squeeze to Y/n’s thigh and Y/n opens her eyes to look at her. Natasha’s mouth is glistening with cum, a sight that makes a knot twist in Y/n’s belly.

“I’ve missed how you sounded…moaning my name,” Natasha admits.

Y/n can’t help but smile at her ex-girlfriend’s confession. She decides to make a confession soon.

"I don't like Bucky.”

Natasha is dumbfounded by how unprompted the comment was, but she can’t help but laugh at it. Y/n never liked Bucky.

Natasha lays her head on Y/n’s lower belly, letting herself be lulled by the slow rising and falling.

“He totally set you up last night. He called me and told me you were down there. He means well, most of the time, but he’s a shit starter at heart.”

“Hmm.”

It was no surprise that Bucky had found a way to instigate last night’s situation. There was just no way fate was on her side like she always wanted to believe. But, she is willing to accept that that is okay.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #MCU #mcu fanfic #mcu imagines #f/f #f/f fanfic #smut #mcu smut

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runa-falls · 2 years

Text

chapter one: one look and you’re hypnotized

Pairing: ari levinson x reader

Rating: fluff

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I’m excited to introduce my new series ‘angel eyes’ featuring ari levinson. i’ve been focusing on moon knight a lot and wanted to change things ups so once i heard angel eyes by abba i knew i had to write this! i hope you enjoy it ;)

series masterlist

main masterlist

-=+=-=+=-=+=-

Your parents are excited to show you around the little town they settled in while you were busily studying at your local college. They moved to a small beach town a few months back, but you haven’t been able to visit and see their new house because your job back home won’t give you a break.

Thankfully, they’ve granted you time off in the summer. You plan to take this time to relax on the beach and use your photography hobby to do some freelance work. You need something to keep you busy before you drive yourself up the walls, and making a little money on the side never hurt anyone.

You arrived a couple of days ago, staying back from any excursions they went on to recover from jetlag. You have been enjoying catnaps on the hammock they set up on their back porch and taking late-night walks on the beach when you can’t sleep.

Now, you feel your body reorienting yourself to the time zone and can finally join them out for dinner. They decide that your visit is a good excuse to go to a beachside bar that their neighbors have been recommending since they moved here.

Apparently, (according to your mom,) it has a lot of great reviews from its ocean-side views, good food, and casual atmosphere. You would think your parents get enough ‘beach-side’ views from their own house which is only a few steps from the sand, but they can’t get enough of the rolling waves and breezy weather.

It’s a wonder how your parents haven’t visited the bar before since it’s only a five-minute walk on the beach from their place. When you arrive, there is a man-made path that leads to the back entrance of the restaurant.

You can see an external bar and seating area closed in by a small fence around the perimeter for those wanting to sit outside. It’s all illuminated by beautiful hanging lights and warmly lit lanterns.

You already hear chatter and faint music as you walk closer. You notice how crowded the main dining area outside is. Almost every table is taken, except for a few scattered throughout the venue that can only seat couples.

You see a disappointed look in your mom’s eyes as she stands up on her toes trying to look over the crowd for any vacant tables.

You sigh, deciding it is best if they get a couple’s table with an ocean view while you get your food at the bar, like the other single diners.

Their anniversary is tomorrow, and even though they came here to experience the outdoor restaurant with you, you wanted them to enjoy a meal without having to squeeze into a tiny table. You also feel guilty about holding them back for the last few days.

“Hey, Mom, if you and Dad want to get that table over there I’m fine sitting at the bar. It’s your anniversary eve, you deserve it.” She looks at you with a huge grin on her face, thinking of what a sweet child she has.

“Oh, Y/N, what did we do to deserve you?” She gives you a big smooch on your cheek, leaving a faint pink mark as evidence. “Get whatever you want, and treat yourself to some dessert too, okay?” You nod, quickly rubbing at your cheek. Well, she gave in fast, you think. Didn’t even try to fight me on it.

A waitress shows them to their table and you walk in the opposite direction to the bar. It was a lot louder in this area, everyone has someone to talk to. You squeeze yourself into a spot between two couples, their backs facing you, making you feel even more alone.

It surprised you to find that there is only one bartender serving this huge crowd of people. You try to get his attention, but he’s a blur as he quickly walks around the bar, from one person to the next.

You try to keep yourself busy by looking at the menu. You rethink you order, then go back to your original choice before rethinking it again. There are only so many entrees that pique your interest before you start counting how many combinations of sides and mains there can be.

He finally pauses in front of you for a second, head dipping low to read an order that was scribbled on a post-it note. His lips silently move as he mouths the words he reads, trying to memorize everything before moving on to the next thing.

His long hair falls in front of his face from the way he’s angled, but before it could bother him, he pushes it back with a large hand. He looks up after striking out a few things on the list to make sure that he’s not missing any calls from customers. His eyes stop their scanning and lock with yours. Where did you come from? He was sure that he’d notice a lone girl dressed in a tiny sundress sitting at his bar.

Air is sucked out of the room when you look at this man. He stands tall, boasting broad shoulders that stretch his blue long-sleeved shirt against his skin. His sleeves are pushed up around his biceps, displaying his strong tanned forearms to the audience of customers. You could see whisps of hair that don his chest from the few buttons he decided to leave undone.

A full beard perfectly frames the full lips that peek from underneath it. Despite your obvious stare, he glides his tongue over his bottom lip, actively inviting the attention. But what hits you the deepest is his cerulean eyes that are shamelessly peering back at you. You feel hypnotized by their intensity of them. A blush flows down your body as they observe the features of your face, then neck, then chest.

“What can I get you?” His low voice breaks the moment, somehow speaking over the sound of the busy restaurant. You look away before he sees how your whole body is engulfed in heat from his stare, pretending like you’re looking at the menu.

“The, uh, house burger, and a tequila sunrise, please.” You drop the menu right under your eyes and he tips his head in a nod. You slowly place it in his hand and he purposely slides his palm against the back of yours before taking it from you. You flinch, putting your arm to your side, not expecting the warmth of his skin on yours. He walks away like nothing happened, inputs your order on the computer, and pulls out a glass to prepare your drink.

He didn’t even ask for your ID you realize. He didn’t spark a conversation with you like he did everyone else either. Maybe he wanted to interact with you as little as possible, you thought, watching him as he focused on the task at hand.

He makes the drink with expertise, looking back at you as he mixes it up in a cocktail shaker. You give him a shy smile, embarrassed that he caught you looking. He finishes it off by garnishing it with a thin slice of orange that’s been twisted on a tiny umbrella. He slides the sweating glass towards you, slinging a towel over his shoulder.

“Thank you…” You said, your voice a lot smaller than you intended.

“Of course.” He looks like he’s going to say more before he’s called away by someone wanting a refill.

You watch him as he goes back to the rhythm of moving from person to person, offering customers a charming smile, picking up empty glasses, and near-empty plates as he goes. His smile perfectly complements his bright ocean eyes, you decide, even if it isn’t a real smile.

He turns around and looks directly back at you, almost like he can feel your stare while he’s working. An older woman is talking to him, and he nods at her words like he’s listening but he continues to make little glances your way while holding a small smile on his face. He knows exactly what’s he doing, holding your attention but never making a move to talk to you. You sigh at the realization that he’s probably not interested in anything but your attention.

You don’t look up until your food is placed in front of you. You expected to meet blue eyes, but it turns out a different bartender finally joined him. You eat your burger in silence, scrolling through your phone to distract you from watching the man of the hour flash smiles at everyone.

Your meal filled you up so you decide to skip dessert and ask the new bartender for the check. That was ten minutes ago. You’ve been waiting for the check as the seats around you slowly began to empty. You spot the other bartender coming back from the indoor part of the restaurant and wave your hand at him, trying to get his attention. He looks surprised when he sees you, thinking you had left already.

“Is there a problem?” He was genuinely confused, wondering if you had a complaint.

“I just haven’t gotten the check yet…” His eyes furrow before he turns looking around for something.

“I’m sorry about that, my colleague said he would take care of you…” He finally spots him talking to some customers closer to the beach.

“Oh, there he is! I’ll have it for you in a second, thank you for your patience.” You give him an understanding smile, watching as he power walks towards the bearded man.

He points to you as they talk for a minute, sending both of their gazes in your direction. You look away, not wanting them to know you are watching. Before long, you hear him walk back to you

“Here you go.” He places the check in front of you, taking a pen out of his front pocket and dropping it next to it.

“Thanks.” You open it up and see a little piece of notebook paper that sports torn edges all around it. Scrawled hastily in the middle of the note is a message: Couldn’t help but notice you over there… and right under it his number. Your eyes finally land on his name at the very bottom: Ari.

Even after you rejoined your parents to take a night walk before turning in for the night, you couldn’t get that note out of your head. The message burned the inside of your bra, right over your heart as your feet sank in the sun-warmed sand under you. You would’ve folded it up to put in your pocket, but you’re wearing a dress so you didn’t have the option. Ari. What a nice name, it suits him well.

You dreamily think of him as you sit on your bed, the note in hand as you prepare to go to sleep. Your thoughts are keeping you up, deciding whether to text him now or make him wait. Then wondering if he really meant for you to get this, or if it was an honest mistake. You put the note as negative thoughts fog your brain. You conclude that the best choice is to do nothing. It’s not like you’ll ever see him again…

—

But it seems like the universe has other plans for you.

The next day, you drag out your beach essentials late in the morning to relax on the sand before it gets too hot. Your favorite beach activity is pulling out one of your comfort romance novels and fantasizing about being approached by a handsome stranger.

It’s almost like you manifested the moment.

You did not expect to see the burly bartender from the night before approaching you with a large surfboard under his arm. He’s wearing a full wet suit that’s zipped halfway down showing off his pecks and even from here, you can see water travel down his neck inviting you to look under the suit. His hair is slicked back, still damp from his water activities.

After a few seconds of you blatantly staring at admiring the man, you come back to your senses. You quickly use your hand to feel around your towel, looking for something to use as a distraction. You swiftly scoop up your worn novel and open it up against your face, trying to hide from a confrontation. Your attempts are unsuccessful when he spots the familiar locket resting on your chest.

He was originally appreciating the way your swimsuit looked on you, hugging your soft body in a way he wished his arms could. As he tried to get a look of your face, he couldn’t help but notice the necklace peeking out from under the book.

Your pure wide eyes were the first things that drew him in last night. He made sure to memorize every part of you from your head to your waist, the bar blocking the view of the rest. As his eyes dripped down your body, they curiously landed on the cracked oval pendant that hung between your collarbones. The uniqueness of the locket made it easier to recognize you, even as you covered yourself with a racy-looking book cover.

You continue to pretend to read, minding your business hoping he’d just walk by. After a substantial amount of time, you close the book and sneak a glance to see if he left, but instead he’s standing right in front of you with an amused expression dancing on his perfect face.

“Enjoying the book?” He nods over at the novel that’s now gripped in your hand. You’re mortified. He just watched as you pretended to intensely read a smut-filled romance novel! “Looks exciting…” He chuckles under his breath as he watches you shove the book under your thighs in embarrassment.

“Uh… No, I wasn’t really reading it, I was just…”

“Avoiding me?” He finishes for you. You freeze at his words, he caught you. “Y’never got around to text me…I assumed you didn’t see the note I left you.”

“The note?” You try to act as if you forgot about it, even when your whole night was spent worrying about it.

“Oh, right…I-I must’ve dropped it somewhere on the way out, sorry.” Your eyes avoid him as you talk, a symptom of your bad lying and nervous energy. Even though he can tell you aren’t sharing the whole truth, he nods along with your story, accepting your excuse. He’s just going to have to try a little harder.

“That’s alright,” He shrugs it off, walking closer to you before squatting down to your level. Being so close, you can smell his coconut sunscreen and the salt water that’s starting to dry off of his skin. You straighten up as he leans closer. “I can just give you my number right now.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, just hand me your phone.” You turn to your bag and shuffle around the items until your fingers grasp around the rectangular device. You unlock it and wordlessly hand it to him.

When he gives it back, you see that he’s already sent a message to himself, and made his contact name, “Ari (the *cuter* bartender)” in reference to last night.

“I made the first move in case you’d forget again.” He winks at you. You sheepishly slip the phone back into your bag, turning away as your face flushes at his directness, taking your time to zip it up.

“So what should I call you, Angel?” He holds a smirk on his face, clearly aware of the way he affects you. After all of the moments you’ve interacted–okay it’s only been the second time, but each moment feels like a thousand years–you realize that he doesn’t even know your name. Feeling a little giddy from the casual way he coined the pet name when referring to you, you responded without thinking.

“Angel is fine.” You don’t know where it comes from, but from the look on his face, he looks inclined to agree. His eyes sparkle with playfulness pleased that you’re finally responding to his suggestive chatter.

“Sounds good to me.” He grins, pushing himself off the sand to stand back up. You expect him to walk away and text you sometime in the evening, but instead, he asks you out, “Would you like to grab some lunch with me, Angel?” He offers you a hand to help you up, but you don’t take it. Instead, the wincing expression you’re holding tells him you're about to reject his offer.

“I would, but I have an appointment in an hour and a half to get to.” Your voice is sincere and full of regret. Your mom's friend's daughter wants her pictures ‘professionally’ taken in front of the water for her Instagram, and even though it's not a serious meeting, you can’t just cancel last minute for a lunch date with the man of your dreams. It would be unprofessional.

"Well, how about dinner, tonight? I can take you to my favorite pizza place? It’s really good, real Italians and everything." He tries to entice you with the idea of a perfect pie. You act like you’re thinking about it just to tease him, looking up and tapping your chin. He watches you with intense anticipation almost making you giggle at the sight. You never thought you’d have a man like him hanging by your every word.

“Sure, tonight works”

“Ok, great, text me your address later and I’ll pick you up.” You nod in acknowledgment, watching him grab his surfboard, brushing off some sand that sticks to it.

“See you later, Angel.”

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