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cheesiedomino · 2 months

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Second chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T

now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.

As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.

Life really can be cruel at times.

“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”

One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.

You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.

“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”

God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.

“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”

“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.

It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.

“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.

“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.

“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.

It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.

“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.

You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.

“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”

You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.

It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.

Must be nice..

Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?

What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.

It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.

‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.

Minho 🐈:

Hey is this still ___’s number?

You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.

Yes… who’s this?

After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?

Your phone dings again.

Minho 🐈:

Srsly -_-

Did you really delete my number??

Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.

Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P

Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.

Minho 🐈:

Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)

No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!

Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.

You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.

Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”

Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.

You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?

“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.

It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.

You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.

Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.

He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.

You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.

“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”

Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.

“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.

“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”

They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.

“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.

Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.

He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.

“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.

“Of course dear, anything for you.”

Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(

Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’

Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.

The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.

You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.

His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.

You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.

“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.

Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.

“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.

He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.

After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.

“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.

“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.

You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.

“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”

Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”

“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”

Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.

“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.

“Hm?”

“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.

You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.

Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.

[End <3].

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months

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Alcohol

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: You come home to an intervention

It's not that you an actual alcoholic. It's not like you craved it everyday or you couldn't go without it.

You were English though so it was practically a rite of passage to get drunk in a park with your friends from cheap alcohol someone had bullied an adult into buying at the cornerstore. Of course, those times spiralled into massive ragers at someone's house but it's not like you drank when you were meant to be working.

Barcelona was the dream and you felt incredibly lucky to be approached with the chance to play.

But It meant less parties, less time in England, less time with your friends but you were fine with that.

You were capable of keeping your professional life separate from your private one.

You would train and train and train in Spain and then when international break rolled around, you would hop on the first plane back home and party your heart out with your friends.

You were slightly behind on the trends because of that so the first time you hit a vape, you sputtered and coughed and vowed to never do it again. You stuck to that for the most part unless you were blackout drunk but you never really remembered that anyway so it was like it never happened.

When training started back up again, you would go from a party to the airport and then back to Spain, slipping back into the house as quietly as possibly so as to not disturb Alexia.

Your head pounded as you slipped inside. You usually didn't drink too much when you were meant to go to the airport but you still felt a little bit tipsy but somehow, halfway to hungover.

You slipped the sunglasses over your face and took another long swig of your water. You still had the aftertaste of vodka in your mouth.

You slipped into Alexia's house quietly, dumping your bags onto the floor. You didn't have to creep around though because the light switched on and you jumped.

"Jesus," You said," Have you been sitting in the dark all this time? That can't be good for your eyes."

Alexia was sat on her sofa, arms crossed over her chest. Marta and Irene were sitting with her. All of them were wearing the same stern looks that you usually only saw from Alexia.

Alexia's face was murderous as she looked at you. It was the same expression as the one when Mapi took you to get a stick-and-poke tattoo without her permission. Mapi was still a little wary from the scolding she received.

You didn't like where this was going.

"Wearing sunglasses inside ruins your eyesight too," Irene said sternly and your throat bobbed.

If you took them off now then it would basically be incriminating yourself. This looked like an intervention already and you didn't want to confess to something like this if it was actually to do with something different.

So, you just shrugged.

"I've got a bit of a headache. It was a rough flight."

None of the three looked convinced but that was your story and you were going to stick with it.

"Have you got something to tell us?" Marta asked and you knew a trap when you saw one.

You shrugged again, breezily walking to the kitchen like nothing was wrong. Your rummaged around in the fridge, snatching out some breadsticks and hummus.

"Just that you really ought to hit the gym more, Marta," You teased," It's getting boring running circles around you."

You were deflecting but it's all you could think to do.

"Hmm. Really? That's all you have to say?"

You sighed. "Fine. You caught me. I was the one that hid your socks a few weeks ago. They're in one of the boxes in the physio room."

Alexia glared at you and snapped," Don't get smart. You know why we're here."

You scoffed. "Well, I know why you and I are here. We live here. Marta and Irene, though? Coming to steal our food or something?"

"I mean it," Alexia said. She was by far the most strict with you and you knew you were crossing lines by not confessing now but you'd already hit rock bottom. It was time to get the pickaxe out and keep digging.

"Why don't you enlighten me to why there's an intervention in the living room? I haven't done anything wrong?"

"Really?" Irene said," Can you explain this?"

She showed you a picture from your Instagram posted last night. There was nothing bad on it. There were no drinks or vapes.

You shrugged. "It's me and my friends? What, I can't have friends now?"

"Not friends who are bad influences!" Alexia snapped. She grabbed the phone and clicked on someone's profile that you'd tagged.

You knew you were doomed the moment that Alexia showed you the saved stories. This particular friend had a whole folder related to parties and you knew she posted on it regularly, just as regularly as you were a guest at them.

But, still, you were going to stand your ground, even as the evidence was played in front of you.

"It was a one time thing," You lied.

"And this?" Alexia said, scrolling through your friend's account. "And this? What about this one?"

"Oh my god," You laughed in disbelief," Is this really an intervention? I've not done anything wrong!"

"Well," Irene said," You're drinking underage."

"Ha!" You said," It's legal to drink underage in the UK so long as it's in the house. So, there!"

"And the vaping?" Marta asked.

You winced. "Not really my thing. I don't get the appeal."

"Well thank god for that," She said," One thing to check off the list."

"It doesn't matter if it's legal!" Alexia hissed," It's wrong! You're doing it excessively! I tracked the days! For almost every day you're back in England, one of your friends post about you all drinking at a party! It's excessive."

"God, Alexia," You said," That's obsessive. You need a hobby."

Her angry glare made you shut your mouth quickly as she stood. She approached you quickly and you backed up until you hit the wall.

"Maybe I would have time to have hobbies if I wasn't worried about you getting alcohol poisoning when I'm not around!"

"I can drink responsibly!"

"Can you? Because that video of you throwing up in the toilet does not look like responsible drinking!"

"It was one time!"

"One time turns to two and two turns three and then suddenly you're day drinking and you've got a problem!"

You rolled your eyes. "God forbid I have fun with my friends, Alexia."

"This is a bit more than having fun with your friends," Marta said," Is there no other way to have fun with them? Do you do things with them other than partying?"

You stayed silent.

"We're not doing this because we don't think you should have fun," Irene said," We're doing this because we love you and we don't want this to turn into a problem you can't cope with."

Suddenly, all of those was a bit too overwhelming. Your hangover was in fully swing and you were still pressing up against the wall, Alexia in front of you and Marta and Irene flanking her.

"I don't have a problem," You insisted though your voice sounded a little weak.

"We know. We're just making sure that it doesn't become one."

You sniffled a little bit and moved to lay your head on Alexia's shoulder as tears dripped down your face.

"I never see them," You said," I don't want them to stop being my friend because I don't go along with what they're doing."

"If they do that then they were never your real friends to begin with," Alexia said, gently untangling the knots in your hair as you cried against her shoulder," I worry about you when you go back home. I just want you to be safe."

You nodded against her.

The door swung open and you jumped.

Lucy came bursting in. "Sorry, I'm late!" She said," Have we already started the intervention? Because I have helpful images on the effects of alcohol poisoning! And a picture of decayed lungs!"

"Lucy," Irene groaned," That was meant to be an intervention, not traumatising!"

#woso x reader #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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number1mingyustan · 2 months

Text

- Cuffing Season-

His Distraction

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

Warnings: established relationship, size kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, semi-public sex (they almost get caught), creampie, cum stuffing, teasing

Summary: You are his weakness, always and forever

Word Count: 2.4k

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Your heels click with each step on the tile floors and resound through the office. You navigate the large space easily as you make your way through the familiar surroundings. You already know your destination and exactly how to get there, to Mingyu’s office.

Familiar faces greet you as you walk around, small waves and acknowledging smiles. You greet them all back before you find yourself standing in front of his secretary’s desk.

“Hi Paige,” You smile. “Is he in?”

Paige smiles back at you. “Hi Y/n, yes he is. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

“Oh there’s no need, I’ll just make my way in.” You grin.

“Okay! Have a nice afternoon Y/n.” She replies.

“You too Paige!” You wave as you walk up to Mingyu’s office.

You knock on the wooden door eagerly. You hear a muffled ‘Come in, it’s open!’ in response. You open the door, seeing your handsome boyfriend sitting at his desk.

He looks up at you and his eyes light up immediately. “Hey baby.”

He stands up as you make your way over to him. You kick the door closed with your foot and he pulls you into a hug.

His embrace is warm and comforting, as always. He holds you close to him and presses a quick kiss on your lips.

“What are you doing here?” He questions.

Disappointment floods your veins. You pull away from the hug slightly and look up at him with a slight frown. “We have plans… for lunch. The new Italian place on Fourth.”

“Ah shit,” he mentally face palms himself. “I’m sorry baby…. I completely forgot. I have a huge meeting in 30 minutes that I really can’t miss.”

“But Gyu…” you pout.

“I know baby, I’m sorry.” He leans his back against his desk and pulls you in closer. He draws small circles on your lower back. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“They handmake their breadsticks babe. I was really looking forward to it.” You frown.

“We can always order in from Olive Garden.” He shrugs.

“Olive Garden isn’t real Italian food Gyu. And their breadsticks are just frozen and reheated.” You roll your eyes.

He pulls you in closer, wedging your body between his thighs. “And their breadsticks are still good, love. I spoil you too much.”

You pout and lean your head into his chest. “You know it’s not about the breadsticks Gyu.”

He strokes the top of your hair softly. “Yeah I know… I’m really sorry. I’ll cancel my whole day on Thursday and take you out. Thursday is a light day for me, so I can afford to miss it.”

You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. “You’d really do that for me?”

He nods and pushes your hair out your face while looking down at you. He smiles sweetly. “Of course.”

He presses a kiss on your lips and moves his hands to your waist. "Thanks, Gyu." You smile.

"Anything for my girl," He beams.

You find yourself smiling like a schoolgirl. It's so difficult for you to contain your happiness around him.

"Can I stay until your meeting at least?" You ask.

He nods. "Of course, I have to do some more prep for it, though. I can't talk to you much."

" 'S okay, I just wanna be near you." You tell him honestly.

He pulls you in closer to him with gentle hands and places a soft kiss on your lips. "You're the best, you know that?"

You grin and shrug. "You've told me once or twice."

Your faces remain close and your eyes remain locked. There's a twinkle in his eyes as he stares at you. He can feel his heart beating outside his chest.

It's beating rapidly, and he fears you might be able to hear it. Even after all these years together you still have that schoolboy effect on him.

You brush his hair back with your small hand gently and lean in. You close the gap between your faces and kiss him lightly. It starts off slow, lips moving against one another gently and sweetly.

But Mingyu can't help himself.

He pulls you onto his lap slowly. He feels the weight of his office chair push lower to the ground.

The kiss grows heated as you make yourself comfortable on his lap. Your hand cups his cheek and his tongue slips into your mouth. You can feel the desire burning in your chest.

Your hands begin to wander, trailing from his chest down to his V-line. It's not until you grab at his belt that he comes back into his senses.

"No," He pulls away.

You have a lustful look clouding your eyes as you lick your lips slowly, reminiscing in the taste of him on your tongue.

"I haven't even done anything!" You giggle.

"And we're keeping it that way. My meeting is in like 20 minutes." He lifts you off of his lap.

"You know we could be done in 5," you smirk. "But fine, your loss." You shrug.

He shoots you a glare, adjusting his pants yo hide the semi he’s sprouting

You sit down on the couch he has in front of his desk. with a smirk painted on your face.

"It's so hot in here," You say. You allow your coat to fall off your shoulders, fully exposing the dress you have on underneath.

It's one of his favorites. He bought it for you on Valentine's day last year and it's been a while since you've last worn it. You can hear him inhale sharply in an attempt to keep his composure.

He looks down at the papers on his desk to avoid looking at you. That simply won't do.

You reach into your purse and pull out your handheld mirror and your lip gloss. You stare at yourself, applying the gloss to your lips. The second Mingyu heard you rustling in your purse, his attention was on you again.

His pants felt a little tighter and his heart was beating faster. He couldn't tear his eyes off of you. What you were doing was so simple, yet so effective.

Once satisfied, you rubbed your lips together and closed the little mirror. You shift your eyes toward him and smile sweetly.

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" you feign innocence.

"Don't distract me."

"I'm not trying to distract you," You lie. "You're the one that got all handsy and messed up my lipgloss. You're the only one to blame here."

He exhales shakily and submerges himself back in his work.

A soft thump on the carpet takes his attention away again. Your lipgloss lay right next to his desk despite you being seated on the other side of the room.

"Can you get that for me, love?" You smile innocently, batting your eyelashes at him. "I dropped it."

"No," he grumbles. "I'm working and you're very capable of picking it up yourself."

"Fine."

You stand up, walking over to where your lipgloss landed and bend over slowly. It gives Mingyu the perfect view of your ass, and you know he's looking.

While he may look it, Mingyu is not the strongest soldier.

"Fuck it."

He tosses his suit jacket to the side and clears off his desk.

You squeal excitedly when he grabs you and bends you over his desk. He hikes your dress up with ease and stares down at you with hungry eyes. He pulls your panties down to your ankles and begins rubbing quick circles on your clit.

You let out a soft moan from the relieving pleasure.

With his free hand, he tosses his tie and begins undoing the buttons of his shirt. He tosses it onto his chair and unbuckled his pants. He allows his pants and underwear to fall to his ankles, all while your arousal coats his fingertips.

"Can't really prep you baby, you gonna be okay?" He asks.

You look back at him with a grin and nod. "You know I can take it."

It's all he needs to hear before he's lining himself up with your entrance and slipping his cock into you. You both moan in unison at the feel of his stretching you open.

He can feel the way you open up for him. It's something worth relishing in. The tightness, the warmth, the wetness. It's everything he needs right now.

Eyes closed, Mingyu is overwhelmed and completely enthralled by you. He tips his head back as his length reaches deep inside of you. His brain can't even fathom how well you're taking him right now with no prep.

"Oh fuck," he whispers.

"That good huh?" You grin. There's a tease in your voice that ignites a fire in him. You revel in his weakness. Something about having the larger man so weak for you has you soaking his cock and sucking him deeper into you.

His big hand finds its way to your neck, pressing your head down against the desk. It forces your upper body down and your lower body up, giving him a better angle to fuck you in.

"Yeah baby," he nods even though you can't see him. "That fucking good."

He bites down on his bottom lip and draws his hips back. He begins thrusting into you, causing your ass to recoil with his every movement.

His balls slap against your butt with each thrust. The filthy sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the room. He slips into you so easily, drowning in the way your arousal coats his length.

Your breathing grows heavy as you try to hold yourself back from moaning too loud. He fills you up so well, tip hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you with every movement of his hips.

"Ah- Right there Gyu–fuck," You whimper.

"Can't be too loud baby," He groans. "Didn't lock that door."

Your eyes shift up to the door in front of you. You whine, and allow your head to fall in your arms on the desk. "Your cock feels so good."

His large frame continuously pushes against your backside. He loves fucking you at this angle. You're so much smaller than him, and he can clearly see the way his cock disappears into you with each thrust.

The sudden knock on the door causes both of your hearts to drop.

"Stay quiet," He demands. "You've already caused enough trouble."

He's quick to slap his large palm over your mouth and muffle your moans. His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady below him.

"Mr.Kim." Paige says from the other side of the door.

"Y-Yeah?" he responds.

"Just a 10 minute head's up on your meeting! I know I sent it to your calendar but Y/n came by and I wanted to make sure you didn't forget."

Even now, he can't find it in himself to stop. He's still fucking his cock into you with his assistant speaking to him on the other side of the door. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head. His thrusts have slowed down but increased in force.

You let a moan slip that causes his hand the press down on your mouth harder. Out of anger, he thrusts into you even harder, knocking your body into the desk beneath you.

"Is everything okay Mr.Kim?" she asks.

"Yeah. Reviewing the n-notes for the meeting right now."

"Okay, well the board room is all set up and I'm about to fax the last document to you as well."

"Fuck," he groans softly.

He cannot cum right now. Not with his assistant standing right outside the door. But you're moments away from an orgasm and the way you're gripping him is making it increasingly difficult to hold back.

"T-Thanks Paige." He manages to get out.

"You're welcome Mr.Kim," she responds from the other side of the door.

Mingyu can't even hear a footstep before your legs start shaking and he has to press the palm of his hand harder down on your mouth. You grip the desk tightly and your eyes roll further back into your head.

Your cunt is throbbing around him and he can feel himself losing it. Your pussy hugs him, squeezing just enough that small spurts of cum shoot right from his tip.

"Shit.." he groans.

His hips lose rhythm and his thrusts grow sloppy. He pumps his full load into you as his grip on your hip tightens. You let out a soft moan of satisfaction when you feel him fill you up.

His cock throbs as he releases into you. He leans his chest over, meeting your back. He presses a kiss onto your shoulder before standing to his full stature and pulling out of you.

You whine at the loss of contact, but he quickly plugs you back up with his fingers. He pushes his cum into you, refusing to let any of it drip out before he pulls your panties back up for you.

You stand back up with shaky legs and turn around to face him. You look up at him with a fucked out expression that makes his cock twitch.

He nudges your face back playfully while grinning. "Fuck, you've ruined me."

You fix your dress. "It's not my fault you get distracted easily.

He begins redressing himself and you hand him his suit jacket. "It is when you're the one distracting me."

You grab his tie, raising yourself up onto your tippy toes and redoing it for the taller man. You sit down on the desk and pull his tie so he's at eye level with you.

"Don't worry, you're gonna kill it in this meeting." You grin.

He doesn't break eye contact with you.

"I was only distracting you cuz I know you're prepared. You'll be fine baby." You lean in. "Hear me?"

He nods. "Thank you."

You press your final kiss on his lips and stand back on your feet. You adjust your dress one last time and put your coat back on. "I'm heading back home, you'll be fine babe." You assure him.

"Yeah," he agrees with you.

He grins, opening the door for you to exit. He can't help himself, smacking your butt as you make your way out. You look back at him with a shocked expression on your face.

"Mingyu!" You whisper-yell.

He shoots you a cheesy smirk. "I'll see you at home."

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#seventeen fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen #mingyu smut #seventeen drabbles #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #cuffing season #kpop

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theemporium · 3 months

Note

okay okay blurb concept: what do you think ab Oscar on a blind date? maybe Lando set him up with someone?

you ask and you shall receive🫡i hope i did it justice!!🫶🏽

This was a stupid idea.

In fact, it was an incredibly stupid idea for a multitude of reasons, but three in particular played in Oscar’s head on a loop as he drummed his fingers against the table, mocked by the empty seat across from him.

The first reason was the fact Lando fucking Norris was the mastermind behind the whole thing. In all honesty, he didn’t remember the last time the Brit had a genuinely good idea outside of racing and car improvements. He wasn’t even sure how Lando made him agree, though he wondered if he had hit his head off something and forgot about the whole thing.

The second reason was that it had been a dreadfully long time since Oscar had been on a date. It was embarrassing enough that he couldn’t even remember his last date, let alone remember whether it hadn’t ended badly or not. But it definitely didn’t help that this was the first one in possibly years, and he hadn’t even played a part in planning the damn thing if the fancy restaurant Lando chose said much.

The third reason was that despite Oscar almost begging his teammate, the boy had refused to tell him who he was actually attending a date with. It’s all a part of the fun, mate, Lando had said to him with a big smile. Never heard of a blind date? It’s romantic and shit.

But nothing about the whole set up felt romantic in the slightest.

Lando had tried to reassure the boy on his drive to the restaurant. He had wanted to arrive early, to settle himself and feel like he had some control on the situation even if he really didn’t. Lando had been insistent that the girl he set him up with was just his type, but it was a little hard to believe that when Lando had also been the reason Oscar had a stripper show up on his door to celebrate the end of the last season.

A gift Lando was also insistent that he would have enjoyed.

So now, Oscar was sat by himself in a fancy restaurant, almost twenty minutes early and looking absolutely pathetic as he sipped his glass of water and resisted the urge to scoff down the complementary breadsticks lying in the basket in front of him. He had given the waiter so many strained smiles, he was worried they were going to kick him out soon if he didn’t order something that actually cost money.

His eyes shifted down to glance at his phone, his fingers itching to reach out and dial Lando’s number again. The sickening feeling in his stomach was only growing, the anxiety bubbling inside him the longer he waited and he was honestly tempted to scrap the whole thing and lock himself in his apartment for a few days before he could face the real world again.

And yet, before he could even unlock his phone, someone paused by his table and a voice called out his name.

“Oscar?”

His head snapped up, any semblance of a reply quickly leaving his mind as he openly gaped at you. You were gorgeous, beyond anything he could even imagine. Not that he cared much for looks or thought Lando would set him up with someone horrendously ugly but…fuck, he wasn’t expecting someone as pretty as you.

And suddenly he was nervous for a million other reasons.

“Sorry, are you not Oscar?” You continued after a few moments of silence, a look of embarrassment crossing over your face as you moved to take a step away from the table. “I’m so sorry, I could have swore you looked like the photo my friend sent me—”

“No!” He blurted out as he quickly stood up, his chair screeching against the floor as he did. “No, I mean, yes.” Your confusion only grew. “I mean…I’m Oscar.”

“Oh,” you said and something in your face brightened as you extended your hand to the boy, offering your name in response. “It’s lovely to meet you, Oscar.”

“Yeah, you too,” he supplied lamely, frowning a little at himself before he cleared his throat. “Uh, can I get you something? I mean, not me. I meant like I could call the waiter for you and you could order. But I should probably let you look at the menu first so—” And fuck, he didn’t think he had ever spoken this much in one go ever.

But your giggle cut him off as you smiled at him. You glanced around, noting the high-end restaurant that you knew Lando probably got a kick out of picking before your gaze landed on the Aussie once again.

“Can I be honest?”

Oscar nodded his head vigorously.

“This doesn’t look like your kind of scene,” you said to him, and Oscar could feel his cheeks burning.

He shrugged. “I really don’t mind—”

“It’s not mine either,” you added, something almost mischievous shining in your eyes. “But there is a really cool arcade about fifteen minutes away that do really good burgers if you’re interested.”

And it wasn’t Oscar’s fault that he couldn’t bite back the massive grin on his face. “That sounds perfect.”

And maybe—just fucking maybe—one of Lando’s plans had worked out far better than anyone ever assumed.

#oscar piastri #formula one #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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ficsilike-reblogged · 6 months

Text

Hungry For Heaven

Summary: Beau knows he shouldn’t have feelings for his young, pretty secretary. But he can’t help it. Pairing: Beau “Cyclone” Simpson/F!Reader (No Y/N) Word Count: 4.6k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED A/N: This is my second entry for the 80’s Rocktober Challenge hosted by @roosterforme - I picked Dio’s song “Hungry For Heaven.” I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, Cain is a creep for plot reasons, my gratuitous use of italics and song lyrics, a coyote ugly reference, female receiving oral sex, power imbalance

His girl. Cyclone’s girl. Simpson’s girl. The Admiral’s girl. That’s how most people referred to you when speaking with Beau. And he had never admitted how much he liked it, instead telling people to at least acknowledge your rank. But in the dark of his rooms, in the recesses of his mind, Beau liked it. He liked that you were his.

Sort of.

Beau knew it was cliche. Falling for his young, pretty secretary was probably the most cliche thing that he could have ever done. But it hadn’t been a choice, really. You had appeared one day, three years ago, like a whirlwind and Beau had been left in your wake. You kept a tight ship, just as he did. You had been a perfect match for him, keeping him organized and on time for all his meetings and classes. You had made the mountains of paperwork he was always saddled with much easier to swallow and he had thought he was dreaming when you’d first handed over a thick stack of papers and told him he just needed to sign at the bottom of the last page. You’d basically done a week of reports for him and had left Beau with a pen in his hand and a tight stomach as you sauntered back out of his office. But that was what you did, he learned. You made his life easier. Gave him time to breathe. You were his girl.

It was more than a little embarrassing to realize his…affection for you was noticed by anyone. Thankfully, the only person he knew for a fact suspected anything was Admiral Bates, who had quietly told him that it was about time he was happy. Embarrassing. It was a kindness, true, but Beau would have preferred if he hadn’t said anything at all. These feelings were inappropriate and completely against Naval regulation and protocol and he couldn’t stop.

“You’re not staying much later, are you?”

Beau looked up from his computer, reading yet another request from Maverick about his insane dog fight simulations he wanted the newest Top Gun class to try, to see you in the doorway of his office. The usual, soft smile was on your face—the smile he liked to think you reserved just for him. His mouth curled up at the edges too; he couldn’t help it. “Just trying to rein in Maverick.”

You scoffed and shook your head but your smile remained. “You’re going to be here all night, then. Again.”

Beau had to hide his laugh behind his hand. You knew him too well. “I won’t.”

You hummed, obviously not believing him. “I’ll order you dinner. Do you want Chinese or Italian? You had barbecue two nights ago.”

His heart twisted, like it usually did whenever you so easily showed how well you knew him. “Italian, if you could, Lieutenant. With-”

“With extra breadsticks, I know. I’ll make sure they don’t forget again.”

You were gone from the doorway before he could thank you but you returned not thirty minutes later with his promised dinner and another smile. A cursory glance let him know that the extra breadsticks were indeed included this time and you set a silverware roll from the mess hall beside the bag.

“You’re too good to me, Lieutenant.” Beau winced as soon as the words left his mouth but you simply smiled. “And I thought you were on your way out for the weekend?”

Your smile widened. “I am. But I wasn’t about to leave you hungry.”

Beau’s entire chest ached and he tried to smile again but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. “Big plans?”

“My friend’s bachelorette party. We are going bar hopping after getting pole dance lessons.” You paused before a grimace crumpled your features. “You didn’t need to know that. I apologize. That was unprofessional.”

Beau felt his throat bob, mouth suddenly dry. Seeing you in your khakis or in any of the other Naval uniforms had been all Beau had been given, aside from when you needed to grab something from your office over the weekend a few months ago and he got to see you in a sinful pair of shorts and low cut top. But imagining you in one of those tight, tiny dresses he knew women your age wore and learning how to dance like that had his stomach in knots.

He was being unprofessional. He was supposed to be the one who approved or rejected paperwork for relationships like this. He wasn’t supposed to be wanting one. And he wasn’t even sure if you saw him as anything other than the old man who needed help keeping his meetings and paperwork in a row.

Sure, you joked with him, nursed a glass of expensive bourbon with him after the Uranium Mission, and Beau liked to think he caught you appreciating the view when he partook in the swim call during your last shared deployment and you handed him a towel to dry off…but that did not mean anything in the grand scheme of things.

He knew that.

But he couldn’t get you out of his head.

“I hope you have a good time. You’ve certainly earned it. I know I run you ragged here.”

The hard line of your shoulders lessened and your smile returned as you shook your head. Your hand settled over his and you gently squeezed his fingers, touch not retreating immediately and Beau tried not to revel in it too much. “I love working for you. You have to know that by now.” Beau watched your mouth open again before you bit your lip.

Beau could imagine a million different things you could have said after that. But you didn’t say any of them. You didn’t say anything at all aside from a soft, “anyway, have a good night, Admiral. Please don’t stay too late.”

And then you were gone, leaving Beau alone with the scent of your floral perfume, the echo of your warm hand on his, and an ache in his chest.

It was fine.

This was fine.

He ate his dinner as he tried to find the least insane simulation Maverick had requested and hoped that it would end well next week. Honestly, having the Captain as the permanent Top Gun instructor was bad for his heart.

“Are you coming?”

Beau looked up from his paperwork to see Admiral Cain in his doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Oh, that was right. Cain had been invited to see the current Top Gun class in action. The higher ups thought it would be a way to “soften” Cain’s animosity toward manned aircrafts. It was ridiculous because Beau outranked Cain and he still walked around like his shit didn’t stink.

Mostly what it did was raise Beau’s blood pressure and had you running circles around base trying to keep Cain out of Beau’s office. It was a valiant effort, Beau knew, but Cain hardly ever followed any recommendation from someone who he deemed ‘beneath him.’

He glanced down at the calendar on his desk and saw your neat handwriting over today’s date. Drinks with Cain? :(

Dammit.

“Yeah, let me just clean up and-”

“I’ll give you fifteen minutes.” And then he was gone, too.

Biting back every swear he’d ever learned, Beau stood and cleared his desk of his dinner’s trash and filed everything away to deal with on Monday. He pulled on a different shirt and slacks he kept in his office’s closet for times like this and tried not to seem too unenthusiastic when he met Cain out in the parking lot. The effort was completely negated when the other man started bragging about the bar he wanted to try, touting that it was apparently popular with younger women who preferred older men.

And while Beau did think of you for a moment, his stomach still rolled with the thought that Cain was on the prowl for someone younger when Beau knew that he had a wife and kids waiting at home for him. But still, he went, knowing the higher ups would frown at him not wanting to “play nice.”

(Beau pocketed the thought that he could have Cain dishonorably discharged if he actually did something.)

The drive to the bar was thankfully short and Beau had repeatedly told himself that it would be fine to leave after one overpriced drink before parking. He could hear the classic rock pouring from the stout brick building and he could still hear the waves crashing against the shore as he stepped up toward the front door. The bouncer at the front waved him in and Beau saw Cain already striding up toward the bar, turning his head to watch as a woman, carrying a tray of shots to a different table, walked by.

Cain settled at the bar and Beau begrudgingly stood near him and waited for one of the three bartenders to take their order. When they were noticed, Cain was more than a little shameless with staring down the bartender’s shirt when she came to their corner of the bar top so Beau made a mental note to give her an extra tip with his drink as a silent apology.

“What can I get started for you?” She asked, turning to Beau with a roll of her eyes. She’d apparently already had a long night.

“Cognac, please.”

The bartender quirked an eyebrow but almost smiled. “You seem like a top shelf kind of guy. Am I right?”

Beau nodded and watched her grab a bottle of cognac he also had in his personal bar back home (where he’d rather be, but that was beside the point) and poured a few fingers of it into a glass before setting it atop a monogrammed napkin and pushing it in front of him. He handed over his card without a fuss and she seemed grateful when he didn’t ask to open a tab.

Beau vacated his spot at the bar after leaving his promised tip and it was quickly taken by a woman who had to be about your age with a sash across her chest that read “Made of DisHonor” in bold, pink lettering. It was funny—there must be a bachelorette party here somewhere.

Again, he thought of you—you had said your friend’s bachelorette party was tonight.

As Beau settled into an overstuffed booth near one of the stained glass windows, he saw Cain still at the bar, now turned around to lean against it as he sipped on his martini. His gaze was bouncing from one woman to the next while completely ignoring the other men who would have probably preferred his spot at the bar to order. But it hardly mattered, really. Beau would have been content with finishing his drink by himself and not interacting with Cain at all. But Cain did eventually did spot him and Beau raised his glass in half hearted welcome but hoped that it would not be taken.

Cain didn’t pick up on the abject disinterest on Beau’s face and started to make his way over. Dammit. However, he made it only a half dozen steps before getting pulled to a stop by a woman in a tight dress and a bright smile.

Damn. All right. Apparently the reputation this bar had was not completely unfounded.

Beau was quick to drag his gaze away from the uncomfortable scene and spotted the girl with the sash walking away from the bar with a tray of what looked like Jell-O shots in her hands. Beau watched her go with a smile, remembering his days back in college when his tongue was blue from drinks like those. She quickly passed out the small plastic cups and the grip Beau had on his cognac nearly slipped when he recognized one of the women in her group.

You.

God. You had always been beautiful but right now you were truly something else. Sinful and ethereal all at once. Stunning. Short dress. High heels. Burgundy lips. You were dressed for the festivities. Your sash read “Miss Behaving.”

Of course it did.

The bride, a cute woman in a tiny white dress with a giant white bow on the back of her head, herded everyone a little bit out of the throughway so a small group of men could get to the bar without needing to walk around. And you ended up closer to him. He could hear your laugh over the music as your friend pushed one of the Jell-O shots into your hand.

“I’m driving tonight! I can only have one drink.”

The woman with the Made of Dishonor sash pouted but still made sure your fingers were curled around the tiny plastic cup. “You said that at the last two bars, too. That’s why I got you a non-alcoholic Jell-O shot. Congrats. That is pure sugar and water, babe.”

You laughed and Beau found himself smiling at the sound of it; he liked hearing you be happy. And he should have known that you would be the designated driver for your friends—you were always taking care of someone. (Usually it was him.)

He watched you and your friends take the caps off the shots and clink them together with a shout of cheers for the bride as he took another sip of his own drink. It nearly came right back out as he coughed, watching your tongue skirt around the plastic.

“There we go!” The bride cheered before patting your cheek with uncoordinated fingers but you laughed anyway. “I want you to have fun. Have fun with me.”

“I am having fun! I promise,” you said before catching her hand and kissing her fingers, earning a giggle of your own. “And tonight isn’t about me!”

“I picked this bar for you!” The maid of honor said with a laugh of her own. “I was hoping I would be able to get your mind off that man who shall not be named.” “No, you chose it because they let you dance on the bar.” “That’s besides the point,” she retorted, finger pointed in your direction. “Two birds, one stone or whatever.”

“What?” The bride asked, dragging out the single syllable.

The maid of honor shook her head. “Babe, it has been over a year and you’re still hung up on him. You either need to get under him or get over him.”

You swirled your finger around the empty, plastic container, pretending to care about the remnants of your Jell-O shot. “I can’t help it.”

“What’s so special about him?” Another woman asked, stealing a second shot. “A year’s a long time.”

“Oh no,” one of your friends groaned. “Don’t get her started.”

The bride pouted again. “But I wanna hear it. I don’t hear anything anymore! I don’t even know who we’re talking about!”

“I’ve told you about him twice but that just…doesn’t matter,” you said, probably noting how intoxicated she was at the moment. “You’re busy with wedding planning, sweetheart. We don’t want to bother you.”

She waved it away, pout persisting. “Tell me. Tell me right now! I’m your best…” she hiccuped. “Best friend. Tell me.”

You licked your lips before sighing. “He’s…my boss.”

There was an answering squeal from the bride and a few others in your group before you waved it away with a halfhearted scowl, like you were trying to keep the smile from your face.

The grip on his drink was near painful now.

You were talking about him. You had been hung up on him for over a year.

“He’s just handsome and kind and funny. He’s nice when he wants to be and he’s always nice to me.”

“But not to everyone else, right?” The maid of honor said, sounding like she’d heard this before.

Beau adjusted his posture to try to hear your group better over the blaring guitars and thumping drums. He wanted to know what you had been saying—apparently repeatedly.

“Yeah. I mean, he runs a tight ship-”

“That is a terrible pun.”

“-but he tries to keep everyone safe and he just expects everyone else to do the same. So-”

“You’re burying the lede here. He’s smoking hot. A complete silver fox who’s got a banging bod.”

You gaped at the Maid of Honor’s outburst and Beau watched your mouth open and close a few more times without a single word coming out. Is that what you had told your friends?

“And he’s sweet to you?” The bride repeated, hazy eyes sparkling. “You hafta marry him.”

“They’re a sight for sore eyes. Good choice.”

Beau felt something in his neck pop when he quickly turned his head to see Cain settling opposite him in the booth. The other man’s eyes were dragging all over your group without a care in the world. Dragging all over you. “Did you strike out?” The words were out of his mouth before he could even begin to think of a different response. “I saw you talking to someone else.” It was a pitiful recovery but Beau hid his distaste for the entire situation behind another gulp of his liquor.

Cain’s mouth curled into a scowl for a moment. “You’ve been sitting here alone all night. You’re not doing any better.” A familiar sneer pushed at his features before he once again looked at your group. “Are you one of those that just likes to look?”

Thankfully or not, Cain didn’t wait for an answer and stood again, making his way over to your group. Just for a moment, Beau thought about just leaving. Just getting up and leaving and pretending this entire night never happened.

“A-Admiral Cain.”

Your voice cut through Beau’s thoughts with ease.

“I…I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Cain squinted at you, probably trying to place your face and Beau saw the exact moment Cain recognized you, a smirk pushing at his mouth. A few of your friends started whispering into each other’s ears, probably wondering if this was the Admiral you were hung up on. “Ah, Lieutenant, I should have known it was you.”

“Oh?”

Cain’s smirk grew. “Yes ma’am. I think I’d recognize that-”

Beau had heard quite enough and stood abruptly, cognac still in his hand. “I think we’ve had enough tonight, Admiral. Time to head out.”

The shock on your face only grew more apparent as you looked at him. “Admiral Simpson. Um…h-hi.”

“That’s him,” the maid of honor hissed into the bride’s ear.

Cain’s eyes were hard as they bored into the side of Beau’s face. He could feel them. But he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were even more beautiful up close. Dammit. Again.

“Why don’t we let the ladies decide if I’ve had enough?”

Your eyes went wide and you took a step in front of your friends, hands fanning out to keep them behind you. “I apologize, sir, but I don’t think that is entirely appropriate.”

“It could be our little secret and shouldn’t I be the one who says whether or not something is inappropriate? I’m sure we can all keep a secret.”

Something Beau had spent years trying to suppress started to bite at the back of his mind. Cold rage. He moved to step in front of Cain, blocking you from the other man’s gaze. “We’re done here, Cain.”

The tense line of his shoulders relaxed when he felt your warm hand press against his back. A quiet thank you. And the simple touch had warmth bleeding over him.

“We are just about to leave-”

“Bride and babes!” The bartender who had served Beau hollered. “You’re up!”

The maid of honor let out a curse and muttered something about never planning anything ever again before pushing everyone toward the bar again. And then Cain was saying something, Beau could hear the rumble of his voice at the back of his mind like a buzzing fly, but Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you.

You as you tugged down your skirt after it had ridden up when you climbed.

You as you helped the bride step onto one of the barstools.

You as you followed suit until you and the rest of your friends were lined up on the bar.

“Ladies and gents,” the bartender’s voice cut through the din of the bar just before the last song ended. “We have a special group here tonight. And they want to put on a little show for you all.”

The crowd gave a raucous cheer and then the opening chords of a song he knew well swelled over the bar’s speakers. And then you (and your friends) started to dance. It was filled with spins and giggles followed by twists and turns that had your legs nearly glowing in the low light of the bar as Dio continued to sing.

You're in danger, the last of a line

But the vision lasts forever…

The watching crowd hollered when you and the maid of honor showed off the moves you must have learned at your pole dancing lessons on either side of the bride. Beau couldn’t take his eyes off you. Wouldn’t.

“I see it now.” Cain’s voice pulled his attention for just a moment. “You want her all to yourself.”

He didn’t deign it worthy of a response. And honestly, what could he say? Denying it would be fruitless and accepting it would be handing over power to Cain. So, Beau said nothing.

The young just getting older

We are sunlight

We can sparkle and shine

And our dreams are what we're made of… He just watched you.

He dragged his eyes up your form and saw you looking straight at him.

Just hold on You can make it happen for you Reach for the stars and you will fly You're hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven Hungry for heaven But you need a little hell, oh, hungry…

And, just for a moment, Beau felt like you were doing this all for him. This entire show was for him. That little dress and the way you inched it up your thighs as you moved was for him. The burgundy-tinged smile was just for him. The way your half-lidded gaze never strayed far from him in the crowd was for him. And maybe it was. Maybe it was all for him because as soon as the song ended and you helped your giggling friends off the bar—taking extra care to help the bride down as she poked at the tip of your nose—you turned to him. While your friends were swarmed by other patrons of the bar who had appreciated the show, you only looked at him. And then you were moving, pushing your way through the accumulated crowd and toward him. You licked your lips just before you slowed to a stop in front of him and Beau tracked the movement with his heart hammering in his throat. “Did you enjoy the show?” And what was he supposed to say to that? He had the wherewithal to notice Cain had retreated to a darkened corner with another drink and a different woman, his attention completely diverted. Beau paused for a moment before nodding. What good would lying do now? Something had shifted, irreparably changed. For better or worse.

He could smell your perfume again as you moved closer, closer, closer. God, you were beautiful. And a voice that sounded almost like himself was screaming at the back of his mind that this was wrong, this was against all sorts of Naval regulations, that this would only end poorly- But it quieted as soon as your fingers pressed against his chest. He could feel each of your breaths against his mouth. He could smell your floral perfume with each of his own inhales and wanted to bury his nose in it. In you. But what Beau happily noticed was the lack of alcohol that hit his nose. You were sober.

He knew adrenaline could make people do things that were out of character. Plenty of pilots, himself included, had landed their jet and jumped out, heart hammering and nerves buzzing. Maybe it was that for you, high off the little performance. Confident enough to approach your direct superior in a crowd. You sought him out. There was a silent conversation between you; were you going to do this? Could either of you stop? And Beau surged forward with his inevitable answer, closing the gap.

You tasted like heaven. Sticky sweet with a bite of something else and your hand gently curled over his chest as you sighed against his mouth. Your fingers inched up to press at the side of his neck as he licked between your lips.

Every sigh, every little noise, every brush of your mouth against his had his heart racing. This was what he needed, what every part of him had wanted since you had first spent the night at his side, helping him do monotonous paperwork. Just you, in his arms, and your taste on his tongue.

He didn’t even recall pulling you toward the small hallway that led to the bathrooms but he felt your smile against his mouth when he backed you against the wall. Your next breath puffed against his wet lips and your eyes still sparkled in the hallway’s shitty light. “We might have fifteen minutes before someone comes looking.” “I can do a lot in fifteen minutes.”

The bathroom door creaked when he pulled you through it and the lock gave an answering click when he engaged it. You were soft everywhere and Beau groaned against your mouth as his hands skirted up your thighs, dragging the minuscule skirt of your dress with it. And you were sweet everywhere, too, as he tugged the tiny scrap of lace between your thighs to the side and drank you down. Your hands curled into his hair as he pulled one of your legs up and over his shoulder. He kept you upright as each flick of his tongue had you shaking and whimpering and filling his mouth.

He could do this forever, even if his knees ached and his trousers were unbearably tight.

Just as you shook in his grip and he felt you sliding down his chin, there was a sharp knock at the door.

“We’re leaving! I’m giving you exactly thirty seconds to meet us outside.”

Beau recognized the maid of honor’s voice on the other side. It was quickly followed by a chorus of giggles. But he hardly heard any of it as you sighed and curled your hands beneath Beau’s chin and pulled him up with a gentle tug. You kissed him, undoubtedly tasting yourself on his tongue, as your thumb swept gentle circles against his cheek.

Your eyes were hazy and half-lidded again and you stole another kiss against his mouth when he pulled your dress back down.

“You can definitely do a lot in fifteen minutes, Admiral.” Your finger swept beneath his lip, gathering the evidence of your secret and you licked it away. “I’ll return the favor. I promise.”

Before you slipped away from him again, Beau kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough of it, of you. Nor the soft laugh you let out as you whispered you’d see him on Monday.

Monday was going to be interesting. He didn’t know what it would bring, how any of this would turn out, but he had hope. And he liked to think you did, too.

Beau couldn’t wait.

A/N: please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

#top gun rocktober #Beau Simpson x reader #beau cyclone Simpson x reader #cyclone x reader #tgm fic #tgm #female reader

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bratzforchris · 4 days

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Inked Daisies (Chapter 2)

A series

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Read Chapter 1 here

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drinking (reader and the triplets are 22 here), characters walking in on each other showering, nsfw content (no actual sex), a few uses of y/n (sometimes it's inevitable, y'all :P)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Y'all are about to kill me for this cliffhanger 🤗

“You’re here!” Chris smiled, throwing open the door. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“It was yesterday, Chris,” You giggled. “Now let us in so we don’t drop your dinner.”

“Us?” the youngest triplet asked you, cocking his head to the side.

Chris opened the front door wider to reveal Matt standing behind you, clearly annoyed at the fact that he hadn’t been let into his own home yet. You were holding a box of breadsticks and drinks from your favorite local pizza place while Matt carried the four boxes of pizza. Despite your protests that you could carry the pizza, the boy had refused, saying that he could do it because it was him and his brothers that could easily slam a whole pizza each by themselves. Secretly, you just thought it was cute that Matt wanted to help you, despite his “tough guy” façade.

“You guys came together?” a look of what could have been confusion, but also something else flashed across Chris’ face.

“You’re wack if you think I’m leaving her downtown alone at night. She’s too trusting; it’s like a puppy.” Matt murmured, shoving past you and Chris and into the house.

“Uh oh, Mattitude’s out now.” whatever expression had been on your best friend’s face was gone now, leaving you with the happy, sunny Chris you had always known.

“Out now? It’s always out.” You laughed, making your way into the kitchen you were all too familiar with.

“I heard that.”

You giggled to yourself, sitting the boxes down on the island. Breathing in the familiar scent of the boys’ home, any trace of the unease you had felt at Matt’s earlier demeanor disappeared. The triplets had been your best friends since high school, and not much had changed now that you were all adults, other than the fact that your hangouts were less frequent. Just like old times, you all piled onto the couch with your plates of pizza and drinks, scrolling through Netflix for a movie to watch.

You had sandwiched yourself between Nick and Chris, while Matt sat at the other end of the couch, silently eating his pizza and scrolling through his phone. You didn’t take the silence personally, though. After the conversation at the shop about the man who was making his job more difficult, you couldn’t blame the brunette for wanting a break. Though you weren’t as close with Matt as with the other two brothers, you still cared deeply for him. If that meant him being a little more quiet in order to rest, you didn’t mind it.

You turned towards Nick, snatching the leftover crust off his plate. “The stickers are selling well.” You stated, taking a sip of your Fanta.

Being close friends with a graphic designer as a business owner definitely had its perks; for example, the small, cartoon-style flower stickers that read “One Trick Peony” had sold out within three hours of your shop being open for the past week since you’d started stocking them. Despite his busy job as one of the most reputable graphic designers in Los Angeles, Nick still found time to prioritize your business. The stickers had been just one of the hit merchandise pieces he’d supplied you with.

“Do you know what you should sell?” Chris added, poking your cheek and then smiling when you looked at him fondly. “Alcohol. Lavender martinis would sell like crazy in a flower shop.”

“I’m not getting a liquor license,” You snorted. “Besides, I don’t even think the store has enough room for a bar.”

“Who said anything about a bar? All you need is a bartender.” Chris hummed, pulling you into his lap.

It was true. Chris had become quite skilled in his ability to make drinks any and everywhere over the past year since he’d gotten his bartender certification. In your opinion, the job was perfect for him. The fast-paced, fun environment and the amount of money you could make if you were entertaining and talkative was right up the brunette’s alley. His good nature made it pretty normal for him to come home on any given Friday night with about 600 dollars in cash.

You snuggled into your best friend’s chest, breathing in his boyish scent happily. “Maybe one day we can open a flower and brunch place with a bar.” You told him.

“You guys hear that? I’m the one Y/N wants to run a business with.” Chris chuckled, sticking his tongue out at the other two triplets.

“Just wait til she figures out how you actually act,” Nick grumbled, pressing play on the movie you all had decided on. “Now be quiet.”

Before looking over at the movie, you turned your eyes towards Matt. He was still withdrawn into himself, curled into the L-shaped corner of the couch now. He had put his phone down, though, and in a feat of chance, turned to look at you at the exact same moment. Matt cocked his head like he wanted to ask you a question, but then shook his head, averting his eyes. You shrugged, figuring it still had to do with the exhaustion and stress from earlier in the day, but you couldn’t help but notice the feeling growing in your tummy at the thought that Matt had been looking at you first.

One terrible, low-budget movie later, you sat up out of Chris’ hold and looked around the living room. Nick had abandoned the movie in favor of his laptop, seemingly editing some sort of advertisement. That was just his personality. If something recreational didn’t immediately capture his attention, he was back to working his ass off. Maybe that was what made him such a successful entrepreneur, but either way, you admired him for helping people bring their dreams for their designs to fruition. Chris was scrolling through his phone, every now and then migrating into his work group chat to chuckle at the stories his fellow bartenders had to share about cutting someone off for the night. Matt, on the other, had fallen asleep, chin resting in his hand. You felt rather bad for him; January was always a stressful month for tattoo artists and piercers because people had Christmas money and gift cards, and they wanted their modifications to be healed by summer time.

“I’m gonna shower,” You told your two (awake) best friends, standing up and stretching. “Do you guys mind?”

“You know that’s like asking to shower in your own home, right?” Chris stood up behind you, tickling your sides.

“It’s…still…the polite thing to do!” You laughed, gasping for breath at the tickling.

“But yes, we don’t care. Go ahead.” Chris placed a friendly kiss on the back of your head.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you and your best friends to share platonic cheek kisses, cuddles, and hugs, but it didn’t make your heart any less happy. You smiled, making your way to Matt’s bathroom. You had kept shower stuff at the triplets’ home ever since the four of you had moved to LA. After all, you were at their house almost more than you were at your apartment. You trekked towards Matt’s bathroom since it was the closest to the living room. You knew he wouldn’t mind, especially because A) he was asleep and B) you’d done it before.

You warmed the water up, ridding yourself of your clothes from the day, and stepping into the steamy heaven. You didn’t bother locking the door, knowing that on the off chance Matt did wake up, Chris and Nick would inform him that you were using his bathroom. You began to wash your hair, letting the rose scent of your shampoo fill the bathroom as you massaged your scalp, washing away the worries of both a busy day at your business, and the odd encounters you’d been having with the middle triplet all evening. You were so caught up in thinking that you didn’t even hear the doorknob to the bathroom turn as Matt stepped into the bathroom.

Matt knew he shouldn’t have. You were one of his closest friends. There was no way he should be watching you showering. It was weird and wrong on so many levels, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from your body. You looked peaceful, head thrown back under the water and eyes closed, soft moans escaping your lips as you relaxed. The way the warm water and soap suds caressed your body and curves as they cascaded into the drain made him think about what other white substances would look like dripping down your body in the shower.

What the fuck? Why was he thinking about railing you? You two weren’t even that close and he didn’t like you like that. Still, Matt couldn’t deny the tightening in his cock at the image of you in front of him, and the image of you in his mind. He told himself that it was just because he hadn’t been laid in so long, but the brunette couldn’t help the soft groan that made its way out of his mouth.

At the sound, your eyes flew open, head turning towards the door. “Matt?” You futilely tried to cover yourself, knowing it was useless. Matt had already seen it all.

“Fuck, I…uh, fuck–Y/N, I’m sorry,” he grumbled, clearing his throat. “I was just coming to brush my teeth and Nick and Chris didn’t tell me you were…in here.”

You shut the water off quickly, grabbing the towel you’d thrown over the side of the glass door and wrapping it around your body. “Shit, I’m sorry, Matt. I should’ve locked the door.”

“It’s um, it’s fine,” Matt coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his face turned red. “I’m just gonna…grab my toothbrush and use Chris’ bathroom tonight. ‘S all yours in here.”

You watched as Matt grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and scrambled out of the bathroom. You were still standing in the draining shower, dripping wet and shivering. Part of you couldn’t believe that one of your best male friends had seen you showering, but for some reason, another part of you wasn’t mad about it. Unbeknownst to you, though, Matt was feeling the same way in his cold shower downstairs.

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

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trashbaget · 11 months

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does anybody else save all their picrews in a folder and regularly admire at them like them like narcissus or is that just me

#like i have nearly 400 iterations of myself over the years #it’s just a little collection of ME and i adore it so much #i like to see how i see myself changes over time #and if’s a cute reminder of hair phases lol #but like picrews are more than just a reflection of my face they encapsulate my personality and mood at the time too #shut up im holding the trashtalking breadstick

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half-oz-eddie · 29 days

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🎁 ❤️

Max was not supposed to be in Billy’s room. She knew better.

But it was 7:30 AM and she really wanted to leave something for him on his desk.

She quietly crept in, sliding her slim frame through the ajar door and tiptoed to his desk to gently place something on it.

“The hell’re you doing?” A groggy voice startled her.

She should’ve expected the hyper-vigilant teen to wake up while she was there.

“I was—I just wanted t-to leave something here for you.” She nervously stammered.

He narrowed his sleepy eyes at her. “Give it here.”

Max slowly walked over, handing the surprise to Billy.

It slowly exchanged hands and Billy examined it closely.

“I-I know you don’t have a record player but I saw the posters in your room and I thought you’d want to—like—have something to collect. So Steve drove me to a record store to get you a vinyl.”

He stared at the Mötley Crüe vinyl for a few moments, then handed it back to Max. “Put it on my desk.” He said as he laid back down.

“Y-you don’t like it?” She frowned.

“Never said I didn’t. I’m just tired.”

Max slowly walked back over to his desk and set the vinyl down.

“Why’d you buy that for me?” He asked.

“Don’t you know what today is? It’s your—“

“I know that.” He said in a snippy voice. “I’m asking why the hell you bought me anything. You never cared before.”

“Well, last year, I tried to buy you something with my allowance and my mom said Neil would be mad if I used my money on you, so she wouldn’t take me to the mall.”

“And you said Harrington drove you? Why the hell did he do that?” Billy continued to question.

“We had a long talk about that night at the Byers and we came to a realization of how unfair we were being to you. So I—I didn’t wanna lose you forever. We don’t get along but like, we had our moments, where we’d talk to each other a little bit. Now we don’t speak at all.”

“You stabbed me with a needle.”

“You were gonna kill Steve if I didn’t stop you.” Max sighed. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to be. But whatever, guess I’m sorry too.”

Max smiled. “I’ll let you sleep. Happy birthday.”

She closed the door behind her upon exiting and went back to her bed.

It was nearly 11AM when Max woke up again. Neil and Susan were already at work. Susan left a note behind with instructions for heating up lunch.

This year, there was no school on Billy’s birthday, so Max decided to heat up the lunch for both of them.

She set down two plates just in time, as she heard Billy resurfacing from his room.

He stepped through the quiet house and stopped by the table, glaring at Max.

“Nobody’s home?”

“No. Mom left lunch for us, so I heated it up.”

Billy looked down at the chicken Parmesan. Susan normally only made it for holidays, but Easter wasn’t until Sunday.

Max figured it was Susan’s subtle way of giving Billy a little something special for his birthday.

“There were some breadsticks too.” Max mentioned, grabbing them out of the toaster oven. “I put some of that garlic and herb stuff on them because I remembered that you like it.”

Billy glared at Max as she started eating.

“What?” She asked with her mouth half full.

Billy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Nothin’. Forget it.”

They ate in complete silence. Billy finished first and got up from the table without a word.

Max didn’t expect much conversation from Billy, but he wasn’t as unpleasant as he could’ve been, so it was fine.

She washed the dishes and sat back down at the table reading a magazine when Billy returned once more with his jacket on.

“C’mon.”

“Where’re we going?”

“Somewhere. I can’t leave you here by yourself. Susan and dad would bitch about it.”

Max grabbed her jacket and slipped on some shoes, then followed Billy to his car.

The drive was brief and they stopped at the quarry.

To Max’s surprise, Billy invited her to sit on the hood of his car. He offered her a soda and cracked open a beer for himself.

They clinked their cans together and drank as they quietly watched the early afternoon scenery.

“It’s surprisingly warm today.” Max initiated small talk.

“I think the groundhog saw its shadow—or didn’t see its shadow—or whichever meant a late winter.”

“It’s…when he sees his shadow.” She paused. “I think.”

Billy snorted. “Why are we listening to a big ass rodent about the weather anyway?”

Max softly giggled. “Tradition, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s stupid.” He mumbled in response as he brought the beer can to his lips.

Silence returned again, and Billy glanced over at Max.

“So y’said Harrington drove you to the record store. That’s like…across town.”

“I wasn’t alone with him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dustin and Lucas went too.”

Billy quickly responded with a scoff. “What’s so great about Harrington anyway? You defended him over me that night—“

“Is that what made you so upset?”

“No. But you defended him and I’m asking about it.”

“Well, he’s really nice. He looks after all my friends, everyone around town knows him and his family—“

“So he’s just the opposite of me.”

“W—I—I mean, you’re nice sometimes. You’ve been nice to me 4 times and I remember them all.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks for the gift, shitbird.”

“You better get me something nice for my birthday too!”

“When is it again? April…may…tember…”

“July.” She snapped.

Billy laughed. “I know when your birthday is, don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m not.” She fired back. “You’re just a jerk.”

“And?”

Max scoffed. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday or I’d—“

“You’d what?”

Max chugged her soda and tossed the empty can at Billy.

“You piece of shit. You’re dead!”

Max jumped off the hood of Billy’s car and ran off laughing, with Billy not too far behind.

When Billy finally caught up to Max, he chugged his beer and tossed the can at Max.

The out of breath siblings glared at one another, before their expressions softened and they began to laugh.

“Hey, d’you wanna go to the movies or something?” Max offered. “I’ll buy you popcorn.”

“And I get to pick the movie?”

Max groaned. “Fine.”

“You know I pick better movies than you do, anyway.”

“Bullshit! Your movie choices suck ass!”

The two bickered all the way back to Billy’s car. Sure, this was a nice day, but Billy couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve Harrington driving his little sister across town to get him a gift.

‘Maybe I should thank him too…’

#billy and max #billy hargrove #max mayfield #steve harrington #harringrove #ivy.doc

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metallicamunson · 7 months

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Boyfriend(James Potter x FemReader)

Hi everyone, I finally finished this fic after months of starting it. It’s not my best work but it’s not too shabby considering I haven’t written in a while. Hope you guys enjoy this song inspired fic 🥲🤍

Word Count: 3,099

Warnings: Angst to Fluff, some cursing.

Summary: One where you and James find your way back to each other

——-

If there is one thing you and James are good at, it’s getting under one another’s skin.

It didn’t matter that your relationship ended in your seventh year at Hogwarts. Having the same friend group means seeing each other constantly. Not to mention, the breakup was a mutual decision, deeming that it would be best to be friends while you both figured out what came after school.

Looking back, you can’t help but feel it was a stupid decision. A brash agreement made by two teenagers in love, scared to take the next step in their relationship.

You very much still love James Potter.

And James Potter is still very much in love with you.

Although- neither of you knows it.

Meanwhile, your friends watch from the sidelines, waiting for either of you to make the first move to rekindle your romance.

DATE ONE (James)

It all started when the marauders invited the whole group for brunch. They all sat around the table on the balcony of their home, enjoying fluffy waffles with various fruits spread over the table. You couldn’t help but sneak glances toward James; he looked good. The white T-shirt he wore- accentuated his muscular arms, and his waist in those trousers was a look to die for.

You bit your lip in embarrassment when you caught Remus’ gaze; his eyebrows raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You shook your head, taking a long sip of your champagne.

“Word on the street is that Prongs got himself a date tonight,” Sirius says, nudging James in the ribs with an elbow.

Now that- caught the attention of everyone, especially yours. Your eyes met with James’ who looked like a deer caught in headlights. He let out an awkward cough, twisting the ring on his middle finger.

“Uh- yeah, it’s a girl I met the other day at a coffee shop.”

It suddenly felt like your intestines were twisting into knots as jealousy consumed your now racing heart.

“That’s great, James,” Marlene smiles; she can’t help but look over at you. “What's her name?”

“Hannah, but it’s nothing serious,” he quickly adds, “it might not even go anywhere.”

“Well, you better bloody make sure she has a good time- she’s fine as f-, ow what the hell!” Sirius glares at Lilly, who just kicked him under the table.

“Okay- enough talk about James’ lov-”

“I’m happy for you; I hope you have a splendid time with what’s her face,” you chirp, lips settling into a tight smile. “Maybe this time around, you’ll get the first date right.”

Now that stung, you always assured James that you loved your first date despite the minor- okay, major hic-ups along the way. Truth be told you- love it; you found him adorable when he attempted to fix everything. He thought you’d never want to see him again, but imagine his surprise when you kissed him at the end of your date.

“Her name is Hanna- Lilly; stop doing that!” Sirius exclaims, kicking her back.

“I know you did not just kick me, Sirius Black!” Lilly says, throwing a grape in his direction.

“Will you two stop acting like children,” Remus sighs, “now let's all take a deep breath-”

“You know what, I will have a great time with Hannah! I might take her to that little Italian restaurant with the good breadsticks!” James says, shooting a terse smile your way.

That’s yours and James’ place. The place you both first said, ‘I love you.’

“Sounds like a lovely idea.” You scoot your chair back, throwing your napkin on your plate. “You know what, I forgot I have an errand to run. Thank you for brunch, boys. Bye, everyone.”

You take your bag from the handle of your chair, exiting through the sliding door.

James groans, leaning his forehead against his fist with his eyes closed.

Later that night

“You know what, I’m happy for him. I’m sure he and Helen will make a great couple,” you murmur, pacing back and forth.

“Hannah.” Marlene corrects before shrinking back when you raise your eyebrow at her.

“(Y/n) Why won’t you admit it; you still love him!” Lilly sighs, sitting up from her spot on your bed.

“Me? Lilly, please, we both agreed our breakup was for the best. I’m fine with it.”

“Your eye twitched when you said that.” Marlene laughed.

“It did not,” you lift your hand to your eye. You lay down between the two girls, staring at the ceiling of your room. “Okay, maybe it hurt a little when he said he was taking her to our spot.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sure he wouldn’t do that to you,” Marlene says with a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t even know why I care; we broke up almost a year ago. One of us dating was bound to happen.”

—

It turns out Hannah was someone who liked to move fast. James couldn’t have made a faster excuse to leave when she mentioned what names he’d want for their baby.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel ecstatic when Remus told you.

DATE ONE (Y/n)

“I’m sorry, I could have sworn I heard you say (Y/n) has a date with Caleb.” James laughs, walking into the kitchen where Remus and Sirius sit around the island. “You know the number of times he put the moves on her when we were dating; he should give it up.”

“Erm Prongs, I did say exactly that,” Remus chuckles nervously.

James stood still, the fridge wide open; his mind went completely blank for a few seconds. His grip on the handle tightened, grabbing the milk before slamming the fridge door shut.

“Are you okay, mate? I know this is the first date she’s been on since you two broke up.” Sirius slides a bowl across the island towards James.

“I’m fine. (Y/n) doesn’t owe me anything.” He shakes the cereal aggressively into his bowl. “I’m happy for her.”

Remus and Sirius share a look; they know for a fact that he is not okay.

A few days later

You knocked on the door of the marauders, your other hand holding a basket of pastries you made for them. A few seconds later, the door opens.

“Oh, hey.” James smiles, moving to the side to let you in.

You nod your head as a greeting, handing him the basket. “I thought I’d drop these off- Remus has been nagging me to make him my ‘famous brownies.’ I um- also made a few scones in there, or whatever,” you mumble.

You made scones, his favorite. He can’t help but grin; why does his heart feel like it is about to beat out of his chest?

“I smell brownies!” Remus runs down the spiral stairs, snatching the basket from James and rummaging through it. “Why are two just standing there- we have a couch, you know?”

James rolls his eyes, gesturing for you to move into the living room. “How did you smell brownies- your room is at the end of the hall upstairs.”

“You seem to forget about my werewolf capabilities.” Remus points out, moaning when he takes a bite of the brownie. “How’d your date go?”

James visibly tenses, staring at the side of your face. You shift in your seat, picking at your nails. “It went well. He treated me well, paid for dinner, and made me laugh.”

Remus nods in approval, though he can’t help but feel he jumped the bullet, bringing it up with James in the room.

James felt himself spiraling. What he said next wasn’t his finest moment.

“It seems kind of desperate going out with a guy who follows you around like a puppy.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, James,” your head snaps in his direction, a frown now evident on your face.

“I don’t know; I just think he’s a loser- anyone who goes out with him must not have very high standards.”

Your eyes brim with tears, so this is what he thought of you. “You know what, fuck you, James Potter,” you scoff, “I’ll have you know he is not a loser- he's a gentleman!”

“He’s creepy (Y/n); the man borderline stalks you!” James laughs in disbelief.

“You know what, I don’t have to listen to this!” You exclaim, flinging a pillow in his direction. You turn to Remus, “I’ll call you later tonight- I can’t be around,” you gesture with your hands towards James, “him.”

You stomp your way out of their house, slamming the door shut.

“That was a dick move,” Remus says, taking another brownie from the basket.

“I’m looking after her!” James sighs, hugging the pillow to his chest.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re in love with her and got jealous,” he looks over at James.

“What! No! Pshh, our breakup was mutual, remember?”

“Uh-hm, sure, keeping living in denial, prongs.” Remus takes the basket from the coffee table, heading towards the stairs.

“She brought those for all of us, you know!” James shouts from his spot on the couch. He rolls his eyes with a small smile when he hears Remus running up the stairs.

—

James was right. But you’d run around naked in negative-degree weather before admitting that- out loud.

DATE TWO (James)

You found out about his second date through Marlene this time around. It was some girl he ran into at the gym. According to Marlene, she was the one to ask him out, which intrigued James.

You were okay with it. Totally completely fine.

“Do you know where they’re going?” You say, trying to sound nonchalant, flipping through the channels of Marlene’s TV.

“Sirius said they were going bowling.”

“Cool.”

You throw the remote beside you, your mind not focusing on anything but James. Ever since you went on your date with Caleb, the bickering between the both of you only intensified. The two of you could not be in the same room with each other without one or the other making a snide remark.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmhm, he’s a single man; he can do what he wants,” you murmur, tugging the blanket under your chin.

—

“So how’s it going between gym girl and James?” you murmur, sectioning Sirius’ hair in half to start braiding two braids.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t talked about it much,” he shrugs.

You frown; this could mean one of two things. They either hit it off and are keeping their relationship a secret. Or it went so bad that James refuses to speak about it.

“Ow! I would still like to have my hair intact after this love.”

“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind,” you chuckle nervously, scratching his scalp softly.

“He talks about you a lot, you know.”

Sirius glances up at you, a knowing look in his eyes.

“I- we can’t stand each other. We can’t even have a normal conversation before an argument starts.”

“(Y/n), I love you, so when I say this, it’s with all the love in the world- you and James need to get your heads out of your arses and talk about it.”

—

You stand before the boys’ apartment; you raise your knuckles towards the door before pulling back. You’ve been standing here for five minutes- trying to find the courage to speak to your ex-lover. Do you still love him? Of course- you do. Why else would it hurt so much when he goes on these dates? What if he tells you he doesn’t want the same?

You shake your head, taking a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door. You rock on your heels, biting your lip nervously.

The door opens, revealing a woman who is the definition of a Vogue magazine model. She has straight blond hair, she definitely seems like she works out, and the band tee she wears- wait a minute.

Your breath hitches once you recognize it; you’ve worn that shirt one too many times after spending the night with James. You can feel the lump in your throat start to form.

“Hey, are you okay?” The blond asks, worry laced in her tone.

“Oh! Sorry, I got the wrong apartment,” you smile tightly, turning to walk away.

Yeah, James Potter definitely moved on, you thought.

DATE TWO (Y/N)

“He’s a good guy! Come on (Y/n), let me set this up!”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for another date- Lils, the last one was a total disaster,” you murmur.

“To be fair, we did warn you that Caleb wasn’t a good idea- plus it’s been five months,” Lilly hums, poking your cheek.

You bat her hand away, sending a playful glare her way, “Fine.”

“You won’t regret it! I promise Mason is worth it!” Lilly squeals, clapping her hands together.”

—

Lilly was right- he’s perfect.

Mason Moriarty has a great job at the ministry that pays him a hefty number of galleons. His smile is one that would make all the girls swoon. He’s the kind of guy who holds the door and respects women.

He made you laugh and paid attention to what you were saying. Mason Moriarty was respectful and made you feel comfortable.

One date turned into two, and two turned into three.

He was perfect- so what was that nagging feeling in your heart?

—

Word spreads fast in the friend group. So it came as no surprise that James got word about you and Mason.

“Who even is that guy- he seems like a tosser,” James grunts, bringing his beer can to his lips. “I mean, she can do so much better!”

Sirius rolls his eyes, putting his book down. He couldn’t get any reading done with James’ constant outbursts.

“He’s a cool dude, he treats our (Y/n/n) well.” Sirius reaches over the coffee table to get himself a can. “At least pretend to be happy for her.”

“I can be happy for her! I just think he isn’t the one for her! The guy’s last name is Moriarty, (Y/n) Moriarty, sounds stupid!” James groans, throwing his head back on the couch.

“Enlighten me then, James- who should she be with then,” Sirius quirks an eyebrow.

“I don’t-” James sighs in frustration, “(Y/n) deserves someone who will love her unconditionally, someone who will cut the crust of her sandwich because she hates the texture. She needs someone who will hold her hand when she sees a pigeon because; for some odd reason, she finds them terrifying. It needs to be someone who will run to the nearest pharmacy to grab medicine when she’s sick because god knows she won’t go to the doctor’s office.” James rants, pulling at his hair.

“And Mason can’t do that?” Sirius pushes, a smirk forming on his lips, one he tries to hide with his hands.

That was the final straw.

“No Padfoot! Moriarty can never love her the way that I do!” James blurts out, throwing his empty can on the floor.

James’ eyes widen in realization, mouth opening, and closing with no words.

“Bingo! What are you going to do about it, Potter?”

“Nothing, there’s no way she still feels the same.”

“Wrong,” Remus waltzed into the room, sitting next to James, “You two are so in love with each other it’s sickening.”

James shakes his head in confusion, his heart racing at the possibility.

“I mean, for fucks sake, Prongs, are you blind?”

“I’m an idiot,” James groans, running his hands down his face. “Fuck, what if I’m too late.”

“I heard from a little birdy, that she cut it off with Mason.” Remus hums, a smile tugging on his lips.

James practically jumps up from his spot, an unsure look on his face.

“Go get your girl James.”

The Reconciliation

You squint your eyes, slipping on your slippers, the constant knocking on your door waking you from your slumber. You pause at the threshold of your bedroom, taking a vase from your desk. Warily, you look into the peephole of your door, sighing in relief when you see James. You open the door, a million thoughts running through your head.

“James, what- it’s two in the morning; what are you doing here?”

“I’m still in love with you,” James rushes out before he chickens out.

Your eyes widen, lips parting, “What-”

“I know this is coming out of nowhere, but I need you to know how I feel. I know it’s selfish, and Mason is in the picture- or not, I don’t know, Remus said he wasn’t. Anyway- I don’t think you ever left my mind (Y/n) from the day we broke up. I felt this void within me. The dates I went on felt wrong- it felt like somehow I was betraying you,” He chuckles breathly. “And when I found out you were starting to date, I was jealous- god that sounds immature. The point is, I thought our breakup was for the best- but (Y/n) I think I was just scared that I was falling more in love with you. I still love you, and I don’t know if I’m making a fool- out of myself- but I know I had to try and fight for you.”

“James-” you whisper, your lower lip trembling, tears welling in your eyes, “I love you.” You wrap your arms around his neck, careful with the vase in your hand. “I missed you so much, I know we were never really apart, yet you felt so far away.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” James laughs, his arms find home around your waist.

“We’re fools,” You giggle, “We should have never broken up, I was only kidding myself by thinking I would ever get over you, Jamie.”

“Yeah well, I’m never letting you go now you're stuck with me, sweetheart.” He grins.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Potter,” You hum, placing a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“Not to ruin the moment- but why are you holding a vase?”

You smile sheepishly, “I thought you were some kind of thief.”

“I am- a thief who stole your heart,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“You are so cheesy,” you laugh, tugging him into your apartment and closing the door behind you. You place the vase on a nearby table before turning to face James again.

“You love it.”

“Yeah, I do- now come over here and kiss me.” You grin, rocking on your heels.

He beams, placing his hands on each side of your face, pressing his lips against yours.

Mission Accomplished

Fin

——-

#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter #james potter angst #mauraders #harry potter #James #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #mauraders era

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daisynik7 · 7 months

Note

congrats on hitting 2k! if song repeats are allowed i’d like to request Promiscuous with stripper!nanami inspired by that one fan art smutty ofc tysm ❤️

Promiscuous

Pairing: stripper!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.0k

cw: modern day setting, no curses au, Americanized customs in regard to bachelorette parties, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – PIV sex (reverse cowgirl), cunnilingus, cream pie, slight breeding kink

Summary: You’re the maid-of-honor for your best friend Sara, the bride-to-be. This weekend, you’re celebrating her bachelorette party and what better way to end the night than at the strip club? Little do you expect that the breadsticks from dinner would come in handy much more than you think.

Author’s Notes: Thank you for the request anon for the y2k karaoke party! In case anyone wants to see the fan art being referenced, here’s the link on twitter. I didn’t want to use it as the header in case the artist doesn’t allow it. Anyways, this was such a fun one for me to write and I hope it’s a fun one for you all to read! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated! Thanks for reading! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekistune.

“Bruno! Another Aperol Spritz, please!” Sara slurs happily at the waiter.

He flashes her a thumbs up, disappearing into the other room towards the bar. Five of Sara’s bridesmaids, including you, the maid-of-honor, gather around the table, blitzed on either cocktails or Prosecco. You’re tipsy at best, purposefully holding back to take on the responsibility of making sure everything goes as planned tonight. As long as the bride has the time of her life and returns to the hotel in one piece, you’ll be happy.

Sara is the only one tonight wearing white, while the rest of you stun in little black dresses, sporting hot pink cowboy hats atop your heads and cowboy boots on your feet, celebrating the bride’s “last rodeo.” By the end of your meal, everyone in your party is giddy and ready for the next destination in your itinerary: the strip club, which is a few blocks away. You manage to pack the leftover breadsticks from dinner into your purse, anticipating that it will come in handy, especially when the drunken munchies start to hit. Together, the six of you parade the sidewalk, giggling and stumbling into the venue, beaming at the bouncer with goofy smiles as you display your IDs to him.

You’re sat at a table near the front of the stage, next to the runway. Next to you is Sara, who is swaying in her seat, resting her head on your shoulder, mumbling something about more alcohol. You pet her hair, knowing she needs water more than anything, so you ask one of the other less intoxicated girls to sit beside her, telling the rest of the group that you’ll grab drinks for everyone. With your bag, you go to the bar, taking the empty spot between another bachelorette party taking shots and a bespectacled blonde man in a tan suit, sipping on a glass of whiskey on the rocks.

The bartender, a beautiful brunette with soft brown eyes, nods at you before she helps the other patrons who were there first, so you wait patiently for her to return. The bridesmaid next to you, a feather boa around her neck, bumps into you by accident. She apologizes profusely, the potent smell of tequila wafting from her breath. You laugh, assuring her it’s alright and congratulating the bride. They offer you a shot, refusing, so instead they drape one of their fluffy scarves on your shoulders.

When they leave, the man to your other side chuckles, taking a swig of his liquor, smirking. “I’m surprised you didn’t take the free shot.”

You glance at him, taken aback by his handsome appearance. Slightly flustered, you focus your eyes on his uniquely spotted tie. “I’m taking care of another bride tonight, so I can’t get too wasted.”

He turns to face you completely now, and you can’t help scanning his physique, impressed by his stature, and of course, extremely good looks. “How responsible of you. Let me guess, you’re the maid-of-honor?”

This time, you meet his gaze, grinning with a shrug. “Guilty as charged.”

He reaches towards you, tipping the brim of your cowboy hat, getting a better view of your face. “And what’s the story behind this get-up?”

You laugh nervously, reluctant to explain. “It’s her last rodeo. You know, the last ride for the bride.” Heat rushes into your cheeks, already frazzled by his presence, now embarrassed about the clichés.

Amused, he hums. “Ah, I see. Clever.” He holds his hand out. “I’m Kento Nanami. Nice to meet you.”

You take it, introducing yourself. It’s obvious he’s here alone, and you wonder what someone like him is doing here at a male dance venue dressed like this, as if he came straight from the office. However, you’re not here to make assumptions about strangers, so you don’t question it.

The bartender finally approaches you, apologizing. “Sorry for the wait. It’s been really busy tonight.”

You wave it off, telling her it’s fine, ordering a few cocktails and a water. Before she starts on your order, she looks at Nanami. “Need anything else, Kento?” You’re curious about their relationship, which seems close given the first-name basis.

He twirls his drink, ice clinking in the glass. “If you have any food in there, that would be great.”

She pushes a container of maraschino cherries towards him. “You know we don’t. Here’s some healthy fruit to hold you over for the show.”

He snorts, “Thanks, Shoko.”

She makes the drinks in silence, leaving you alone with him once more. You set your purse on the counter, unzipping it to retrieve the pack of warm breadsticks from the Italian restaurant, sliding it to him. He looks at it, then at you, surprised.

“It’s your lucky day.”

Still in disbelief, he opens it slowly, inhaling the fragrant aroma of garlic and butter. He pulls one out, staring at it like he’s just discovered hidden treasure. “Am I dreaming right now?”

You beam at him. “This is totally real.”

He takes a bite, eyes fluttering. “This is heavenly. Are you sure I’m not dreaming?”

You giggle, watching him savor it. “I told you: it’s your lucky day.”

He takes another one, smiling. “It really is.” Wiping one side of his mouth with a napkin, he adds, “Not that it matters, but I’m curious. Why does a beautiful cowgirl like yourself have my favorite food in her purse?”

You try not to the let the subtle compliment faze you, though you’re not sure how good of a job you’re doing considering how hot your body is, especially your face. “I took it from the restaurant we had dinner at in case any of my friends need it for later.”

Halfway into the second breadstick, he comments, “You really are a good girl, aren’t you?”

Another comment that flusters you. Quickly, you pull yourself together. “I’m just trying to make sure everyone’s having a good time and won’t feel sick later.”

He finishes it off, licking the residual butter off his fingers. “Well, I won’t take all of it, then. You never know how the night will go, right?” He passes it to you, chugging the rest of his booze until there’s only ice left.

Shoko returns with your drinks, including a water for Sara. You hand her your card, expecting to pay, but Nanami interjects. “Shoko, put it on my tab.”

You gape at him. “You don’t have to – ”

“I want to. For the breadsticks,” he winks. He stands, grabbing two of your cocktails. “Can I help you bring these to your party?”

Stunned, and completely infatuated now, you nod without speaking, leading him to your table. Your friends ogle him when he serves them, probably smitten like you. You make one more trip for the remaining drinks, giving Sara the water, who reluctantly sips on it. “Thank you. I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you.”

“Just have a good time tonight, then we’ll call it even. I’ll see you later.” He waves goodbye to you and your friends, walking towards the rear of the club, for employees only.

Your curiosity peaks, though you don’t have time to ponder it because dance music begins blaring through the speakers, resulting in cheers from the audience. Sara hollers from her seat, drinking her water with a stack of bills in her hands, ready to toss at the dancers.

The emcee, a muscular older gentleman who calls himself “the Principal”, stands to the side of the stage, wearing an all-black suit and sports sunglasses. “Are you ladies ready for a special show tonight?”

Everyone applauds, excited for the performers to come out. “Let’s bring them out! Our first dancer is mysterious, sexy, and maybe just a little bit scary. A voice that can put any woman in a trance, and an even better body that will make anyone loyal to him, please give a big round of applause for…the Master!” A man with long, black hair draped on his back in a traditional Buddhist robe walks across the stage, smirking at the crowd with an alluring expression on his face. Many of the women scream for him, clearly already a favorite. He winks, resulting in louder shrieks.

“Next, class is in session! He’s got bright blue eyes that can peer into your soul and undress you in seconds. And when he’s not too busy doing that, he’s disciplining his very, very naughty students. Please welcome…the Professor!” This results in an overwhelming standing ovation, a couple of woman already tossing their bills towards him as an impressively tall and fit man with snow-white hair struts next to the Master, beaming towards the audience.

Two more dancers are introduced, leaving one left. “Last, and certainly not least. He’s wise, he’s good with money. Most of all, he hates work. But if it’s with a pretty coworker like you, he’ll work overtime to give you that good lovin’. Please give it up for…the Salary Man!”

To your shock, Nanami walks across, in the same exact outfit you saw him in earlier. When he takes his place at the end of the line, he glances at you, giving you a small wave. Sara whips around, shaking your shoulders. “He just waved at you!”

The entire show, you’re focused on Nanami, who graces the stage with smooth and fluid movements, hips thrusting into the air, booty popping in those tight slacks. At some point, each dancer starts to shed their clothing. He strips out of his jacket, tossing it towards your party where your friends catch it. Eventually, they reach the point of the show where each dancer performs a solo act. They step up and choose a woman in the audience who volunteers to be selected, usually a bride. You turn to Sara, asking her who her choice would be. She points to Nanami, whispering, “Definitely him.” A pang of jealously surrounds your chest, wishing you were posing as a bride tonight. It passes quickly, happy to live vicariously through your best friend.

After the first four strippers perform, Nanami’s turn comes. He steps forward in his half-buttoned dress shirt and unzipped slacks, teasing the black briefs he’s wearing beneath. Many women raise their hands, begging to be picked. Sara hoists both her arms, waving at him. He looks at her, then at you, back to her, holding his palm out to beckon her on stage. Suddenly, Sara shoves you, yelling, “She’s going up for me!”

The rest of the crowd cheers, coaxing you to get on. Nanami has a pleased grin on his face, waiting for you, almost like he expected this. You make your way slowly, stunned that this is really happening. As you stand before him, he pulls the feather boa off you slowly, letting it fall beside him on the floor, tipping your hat to see your face, like he did earlier at the bar. You can barely make out the Principal saying, “It seems our cowgirl has finally found her cowboy! Better take the proper position!”

Nanami’s voice is hot on your ear, low and soothing amidst the chaos surrounding you. “Can you lay down for me? I promise, I won’t touch you.”

You swallow hard, bending to lay flat on the stage, head towards the crowd. Nanami stands above you with you between his legs. You notice the outline of his cock in his pants and before you know it, you’re salivating profusely, pussy throbbing with arousal. The music starts, and soon, the familiar chorus plays: Promiscuous girl, wherever you are I’m all alone and it’s you that I want. Nanami trails down his chest, popping the rest of his buttons on his dress shirt, revealing his chiseled abs for everyone to gawk at.

The intense bass of the song and the shrieks of those watching pound your eardrums, and even with that as a distraction, all you can do is fixate on Nanami grinding his hips into the air, eyes never leaving yours. Soon, he’s kneeling over you, straddling your chest, still not touching. He rocks himself above you, moving with the beat of the music, bills raining you from the other women. Arms caging you in, he leans in, soothing voice in your ear again, whispering, “You can touch me, if you’d like.” He sits up, straddling you, running his fingers through his hair.

Without thinking, you act on instinct, hooking at the elastic of his briefs, tugging to snap it against his waist. The other dancers behind him whoop, encouraging you to keep going; you drift up to fondle his abs. Sara cheers the loudest from her seat, chucking the rest of her money at you and Nanami.

Unfortunately, the song fades out, ending the performance. There’s a standing ovation, more cash being thrown on stage. Nanami doesn’t seem to care as he removes himself from you, helping you on your feet. “Are you alright?”

Too mortified to meet his gaze, you look at the floor at all the bills scattered, nodding sheepishly. You’re not sure how you make it to your seat, Sara hugging you tightly, the other girls hollering for you. Your mind is still completely focused on Nanami, desperate for more.

The show ends and the emcee announces that the dancers will come out to greet the crowd. You have your face buried in your hands, embarrassed about the whole situation, despite your friends being thrilled about. Wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, you gather everyone, ready to return to the hotel just a four blocks away. On your way towards the exit, someone grabs your wrist gently. You turn, surprised to be face Nanami, in his office attire. He murmurs your name, a blush in his cheeks, hair ruffled from his rousing performance. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Snapping out of it, you reply, “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for such a fun night.”

You expect him to let you go, but he doesn’t, holding your hand in his. “I don’t live far from here. Just down the street.” He reaches into his pocket, passing a business card to you. “Call me if you want. I’d really like to see you again, get to know you better.”

You take it, smiling at him. “We have to get to our hotel now. But thank you.”

He nods politely, dropping his grip, watching you leave out the door with the rest of your cowgirls.

~~~

It takes nearly two hours to get everyone settled for the night. Stomped on cowboy hats litter the floor of your hotel room. Whatever is left of the breadsticks gets consumed within minutes while the remaining snacks you’ve purchased throughout the trip are eaten without so much as a crumb left. You make sure everyone is hydrated with their own water bottles and help them unzip their little black dresses so that they can slip into their pajamas. Sara keeps babbling about how much fun she had, how hot all of the strippers were. She ends up leaving her soon-to-be husband a hilariously drunk voicemail reiterating her love for him.

It's a little past three in the morning, the rest of the girls sleeping soundly in the bed, your best friend snoring noisily. Nobody budges when you sneak out of the room in your black dress, rocking the cowboy hat and boots, following the directions to the address Nanami texted you after you messaged him first, asking if he’s still up. You don’t expect him to respond seconds later, convinced he’s asleep by now, so you’re more than excited to know that he’s awake, possibly waiting for you.

He meets you in the lobby of his apartment complex, dressed in grey sweatpants and a white undershirt. Even in his casual wear, you’re drawn to him. He looks you up and down, smirking when he sees you. “Howdy, cowgirl.”

You laugh, following him to the elevator heading up the fifth floor. His hands are stuffed in his pockets during the ride, keeping a safe distance from you. You tap your foot, the boots making a clicking noise on the tiled floor. You turn to him, inching a bit closer. “I hope I didn’t keep you up. It took a while to get everyone to bed.”

He faces you, eyes twinkling with kindness. “You’re a really good friend, taking care of them like that.” He pauses, stepping to the side, closing the distance, arms brushing now. “But who’s taking care of you?”

Deciding to be bold, you reply, “I was hoping you could take care of me tonight. If you’re okay with that.”

The doors split open, finally on the right floor. He reaches for you, lacing his fingers with yours, leading you into the hallway, rushing to his room. Once inside, he traps you against the door, caging you between his arms, looking at you with an intense expression. “You’re sure you want me to take care of you?”

You tug on his collar, pulling him in. “I’m positive.” He leans in kissing you softly on the lips, palm cupping your cheek. He breaks apart briefly to remove your hat, tossing it behind him, going in for more. You slip out of your shoes, following him into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind you.

“Can you lay down for me, sweetheart?” He’s hot on your ear, exactly the way he said it on the stage just hours ago. You bite back a moan, so incredibly turned on while you get on the bed, lying flat on your back, anticipating. He rolls the hem of your dress up your thighs, enough so that you can spread them apart, exposing your panties to him, already damp with arousal.

“Wow,” he says, kissing the plush of your thighs. “You’re incredible.” He hooks the crotch of your panties to the side, pussy throbbing. He swears under his breath, readjusting himself so that he can stroke his cock through his pants, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. You squirm from the contact, moaning his name, his tongue licking circles around you. He doesn’t hold back, pushing himself deeper, lapping at your clit.

You clench the sheets beneath you, grinding on his face. He responds by eating you out sloppier, spitting thick wads of saliva to smear on your clit. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans, licking your cunt, collecting your slick on his tongue. “I want you to come on my face, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”

Head thrown into the pillows, you whimper, “Yes,” reaching for his hair, feeling him thrash around, slobbering all over you until you climax, gushing into his mouth. He continues to flick your swollen bud with his tongue while you ride out your high, stopping only when you recoil from him, overstimulated. He surfaces, meeting your lips with his, messy with your arousal. You exchange a few more kisses before he strips his shirt off, followed by his pants. You almost gasp out loud at the impressive bulge in his briefs, palming it.

He nibbles on your ear lobe, rutting his erection against you, whispering, “Ride it, cowgirl. Ride me.”

Sliding out of your panties, you get into position, facing away while you straddle him, his grip on your ankles, adjusting you so you’re sat on his lap. You lift your ass, letting him guide his hard cock inside you, stretching you out gradually, inch-by-inch. “Fuck,” you hear him curse behind you, bottoming out. He slaps one of your cheeks, squeezing the flesh between his fingers. You bounce on him, ass jiggling with each pump of his cock, slutty moans pouring out of your mouth.

“Look at you go, fuck. You’re perfect. So perfect for me,” he purrs, guiding you up and down his dick.

He’s so deep, hitting that sweet spot with every thrust, your core tight with pleasure. Your tongue hangs out, drool leaking from the sides of your lips, eyes glazed over in bliss. You’re getting your brains fucked out of you and you find yourself blurting out every carnal desire crossing your mind. “Film me, Nanami. Want to see it.”

He gets even stiffer. “Yeah? You want to see how this fat ass swallows my cock up, huh? Better ride it harder, cowgirl.” Reaching for his phone, he holds it up, camera towards you. Before he records, he confirms one more time, “Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?”

You nod, whimpering, “Yes,” leaning down to grip the end of the bed, giving you more leverage to get fucked deeper.

“There you go. Keep fucking me,” he grunts, filming you now. “Use this cock to get yourself off. Let me take care of you, make you feel good.” His voice encouraging you pushes you closer to the edge, on the verge of another orgasm. You whine his name, moving faster.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, sweat beading on his forehead. “Are you going to come for me again?”

“Fuck yeah. Going to come on this cock,” you moan, rubbing your clit.

“Then do it. Give me all that fucking cum, sweetheart. Don’t hold back. Squirt on it. Cream all over it, oh fuck,” he growls, thrusting into you. “Can I come with you? Please, pretty girl? Can I breed you and make you mine?”

That does it. You orgasm, clutching him tight, pussy squeezing around him. Seconds later, he comes, filling you with his hot load, pumping his cock until he’s milked dry. He stays inside you for a bit, admiring the view before lifting your ass to pull out, watching his creamy mess leak out of you slowly, wet cock flopped against his abdomen. He stops the recording, running his fingers along his hair, damp with perspiration. “Come here,” he says, caressing one of your ankles tenderly, setting his phone on the nightstand.

You crawl to him, nuzzling your nose to his chest as he wraps you in his arms. It’s silent for a moment, neither of you sure of what to say next. He clears his throat, speaking first. “I hope you don’t think I do this often.”

You look at him, confused. “Do what?”

“Take women home from work. To do this.”

Smiling, you respond, “Even if you did, it wouldn’t matter to me.”

He hugs you tighter, kissing you on the forehead. “Still, I just wanted to make that clear.”

You trace the outline of his abs idly. “Well, in that case, I don’t do this often either.”

He chuckles, mimicking you now. “Do what?”

“Hook up with sexy dancers from the strip club.”

Another smooth, this time on the cheek. “It wouldn’t matter to me even if you did.”

You cuddle with each other for a while longer, reluctant to let go. Begrudgingly, you break away from him to check the time. “I should probably head back now.”

He nods. “Can I walk you there?”

“Sure.”

It’s a short trip back to the hotel, so you take your time, walking slowly, fingers laced together. “Is it a long flight home for you tomorrow?” he asks.

“We all actually live close-by, so we drove here together.”

He stops, pausing to look at you carefully. “You live around here?”

“Yes. And I work here in the city.”

His lips parts, sputtering nonsense before he responds, “I thought I’d have to say goodbye to you tonight.”

“Do you not want to?”

“No, I don’t. I’d like to see you again if that’s okay with you.”

You lean into him. “I’d like that too. I don’t go around giving my breadsticks to anyone, you know. Only the special ones.”

He chuckles, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. “And I don’t go around giving my breadstick to just about anyone either.”

“Oh no,” you laugh, hiding your face. “Don’t tell me these are the kind of jokes you make.”

“Unfortunately, it is. And now, you’re stuck with them.”

You hug him around the waist, gazing at him lovingly. “Lucky me.”

He smiles at you. “Me too.”

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