#it was my best friend's bachelorette party this weekend

[beehop]

i really should have taken the day off work tomorrow, mistakes were made

[junkissed]

ocean view

member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!

they say time flies when you’re having fun.

it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.

but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.

what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.

the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.

you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.

“next round is on me!”

all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.

you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.

you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.

the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.

it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.

it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain. 

"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”

“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”

“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.

"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”

he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."

"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.

he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”

it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.

"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”

your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”

"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"

she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."

jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”

she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.

her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”

she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”

“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”

jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.

she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”

she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”

she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”

you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.

“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”

immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?

"hey, wait, so what does—”

you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.

"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.

"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"

you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"

jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand. 

with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.

after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore. 

"well…”  jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."

"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"

he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"

you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.” 

it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.

the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.

his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.

he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.

jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.

he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.

his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.

he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.

your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.

he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin. 

you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.

the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.

you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.

his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.

despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body. 

but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.

jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.

he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.

his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.

you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily. 

after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.

you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.

his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair. 

his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.

he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.

you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.

after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.

you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.

his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.

“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.

now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.

his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.

he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.

“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.

the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.

you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.

“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.

you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.

his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.

you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.

but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.

after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.

he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.

his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.

he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.

“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.

the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”

everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.

“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.

jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.

he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.

the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.

he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.

he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.

“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.

you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”

you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh. 

you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.

you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.

instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.

you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.

“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”

you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.

jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.

it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.

you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.

jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.

there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.

after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.

“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.

but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.

he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.

and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.

it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.

“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.

“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob. 

he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.

the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.

“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”

you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”

“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”

“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”

a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”

you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”

“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”

you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”

“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”

“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.

jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.

he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.

he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.

and then he sees you.

not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.

he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.

the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.

he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.

“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”

“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”

“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.

mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”

“it’s not changing everything.” jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.

the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.

mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”

“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.

you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again. 

you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.

you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.

“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.

your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.

you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.

he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”

you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.

finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.

“it’s nice to meet you, too.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[shadowkoo]

Kingdom Cum

→ Summary: On the eve of your wedding, you're ready to let loose and make it a night to remember. In the heart of a vibrant city, surrounded by your closest friends, you're determined to savor one last taste of freedom. But when a series of unexpected encounters transforms the celebration into something far wilder than you ever imagined, you find yourself torn between temptation and the life you're about to commit to. At Kingdom Cum, the night is bound to be steamy; leaving your desires to run high, while dangerously blurring the lines between loyalty and lust.

↠ mingi x f.reader x hongjoong | 3.3k words | 18+ ↠ genre: y2k cyberpunk aesthetic nightclub, exotic dancer/stripper au, the filthiest smut i’ve written in a looooong ass time

→ Warnings: infidelity (Y/N is at her bachelorette party) double penetration and double teaming (you’re welcome in advance), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), partial voyeurism and exhibitionism, breast play, light bondage (bride sash used as a restraint), spanking, begging, semi public sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, doggy deluxe, edging, deep dicking, belly bulge, clit pinching, ass enthusiast!hongjoong, teasing expert!mingi, well behaved!reader, multiple orgasms, sloppy oral sex, cock swallowing, cock choking, throat fucking, size kink, heavy praising, slight degradation, creampies, cum play, cum stuffing, overstimulation, the slightest power play, mingi’s got a magic cross dick piercing (bc why not hehe i’m feeling evil) there’s probably more I’m missing

→ Networks: @ksmutsociety @k-vanity

→ Author Note: a big thank you to beezy @hobeemin for beta editing, to cherry @shuadotcom, summer @beomcoups, booki @kwanisms, and maren @wooahaeproductions for hyping me up and letting me scream about this!

And also to sevn @aaagustd & nabi @jenoslutie for being my sprinting partners for several days i would have never finished this without the motivation fr, ILYSM <3

It’s almost midnight, and the real fun is about to begin. It’s your bachelorette weekend, and you’re surrounded by your closest friends, ready to celebrate in style.

The city lights glimmer outside, but all laughter and music are inside. Drinks flow as you and your crew revel in the weekend's freedom. You’ve been looking forward to this escape for months and with your girls by your side, the energy is electric.

The night is young, the city is yours, and the party is only getting started.

“Just wait, I’ve heard they strip everything,” Yeri says, emphasizing her last word.

“They better be hot,” Sunny jokes, lifting her cup to sip her drink. You’re all sitting at a table in Kingdom Cum, a popular cyberpunk nightclub that’s known for having the two best after-dark dancers in the city - SpankMaster and SlickNasty.

“Hi ladies,” a male says from behind your group, “We can’t show you everything, but you won’t be disappointed.”

Turning to look, you see that it’s a gorgeous man with a blue streak running through his tousled hair. He runs his ring-covered fingers through his colorful strands, furthering the messy-styled look.

“I heard earlier that a bachelorette party would be joining us tonight. After spotting you sexy ladies, I knew you had to be the group.”

His eyes land on you, “You must be the bride.”

It’s obvious, you can’t pretend otherwise - even if you want to. You’re wearing a slutty white bra top (per Yeri’s demand), and white cheetah print pants with a ridiculous silk sash that says ‘Future Mrs.’ across the middle.

“Mingi, better known as SlickNasty, at your service,” He says, extending a hand toward you. His fingers brush yours before gently lifting your hand to his lips. Mingi’s eyes never leave yours, holding your gaze as he places a soft, lingering kiss on the back of your hand.

It feels way more intimate than it’s probably meant to be.

As he finishes, he lowers your hand slowly, releasing it with a sly smile that hints at something more.

Or maybe that’s exactly how he meant it…

“And here comes the other half of tonight’s show,” Mingi says directing your attention to the next stunning man walking over to your table.

“Hello ladies, I’m Hongjoong, your SpankMaster. My pleasure to meet you,” he says, his voice deep yet smooth, brimming with confidence that radiates from his effortless demeanor. “We’re here to steal the lovely bride-to-be for the first performance.” He winks at Sunny, whose cheeks instantly heat up.

“Oh, yeah, absolutely! Take her away!” She blurts, practically pushing you out of your seat and into their arms. You rise to your feet and follow them as they lead you backstage.

“Alright, hot stuff,” Hongjoong says once you’re hidden behind the curtain. “Excuse my manners, I forgot to ask for your name.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“Here,” Mingi directs you to sit down on the chair conveniently placed at the center of the stage. He stands to your left, hovering over you as Hongjoong leans in on the right side.

“Just gotta confirm before the show starts, do we have your consent to touch you on stage?” Mingi questions an inch away from your heated face.

“Yes,” You nod, giving them permission.

“That’s a good girl,” Mingi whispers in your ear. Before you have time to react, the curtains sweep open, and bright lights flood the stage, momentarily blinding you. Over the rush of excitement, you can hear your friends cheering wildly from their table.

The two explode onto the stage with electrifying energy, their movements sharp, fluid, and in perfect sync with the pounding beats. A few backup dancers join behind where you are seated. They’re all dressed in neon, complementing the trendy punk looks of Mingi and Hongjoong.

The stage vibrates with power as they hit every beat with precision, seamlessly blending their different styles together.

“How’s everyone doing tonight,” SpankMaster (Hongjoong) grins, swaying his hips to the beat as he struts down the catwalk of the stage. He poses at the end, teasing all the women in the room as he slowly lifts a corner of his tank top.

He drops the fabric and wags a finger, “Not quite yet, I wanna hear you scream for it.” The crowd erupts, giving him exactly what he demands and he chuckles.

“That’s good, very good actually,” he praises. “SlickNasty, you think you can help me out?”

Mingi saunters over until he’s behind Hongjoong, resting his hands on his friend’s shoulders before running them down his chest. He bunches the thin fabric between his fingers and tears Hongjoong’s shirt right down the middle, leaving the shreds to fall onto the stage.

They turn around, gyrating their hips to the beat and in sync with one another, before walking back over to where you are seated.

“Ready to have some fun?” Mingi’s breath tickles your neck as he straddles your lap. He hovers above you before crossing his arms and slowly lifting his shirt off next, tossing it somewhere offstage where two women fight over it.

As Mingi dances, his gaze remains fixed on yours, an unspoken connection pulsing between you both with every move. The music echoes around you, but it's the intensity of his eyes that holds your attention, drawing you in deeper.

Even as his body twists and sways in rhythm, he never breaks eye contact, as if the entire room has faded away and it's just the two of you in this moment. Each glance feels deliberate, filled with a mix of arrogance and something darker that keeps you locked in, unable to look away.

The rest of the song is a blur of skin and muscles. Every roll of Mingi’s hips has your insides burning more and more. The air is thick and heavy, like the calm before a storm. And boy, do you want it him to rain down on you.

His movements overflow with unspoken words, and tension hums beneath the surface. It’s electric and suffocating, as if any moment could tip the scales and send everything spiraling out of control. That thought pools heat between your thighs.

Hongjoong saunters back over toward you, pausing to tap Mingi on the shoulder. It’s their signal to one another, and they switch positions effortlessly.

Mingi returns to the front of the stage, dancing energetically while engaging with the crowd, drawing them in with his cocky presence.

Hongjoong has a sideways grin on his face as he pulls you to your feet. “Show me your moves, hot stuff," he teases with a grin, twirling you around with effortless grace. As the spin ends, he slides down your side, fluidly and playfully, syncing perfectly with the rhythm of the music.

Swaying your hips against his, you raise an arm to your hair to release the claw clip currently holding it up. Tossing your head back, you let the curls bounce around you as move to the beat. Your friends’ screams fade into the background as you lose yourself in the moment.

Mingi watches you, his eyes all dark and broody. He’s entranced, stuck under your spell as you grind against his best friend. His eyes lock with Hongjoong’s and they share a silent exchange, and with a quick nod, agree on the matter.

Your moment is suddenly interrupted when the crowd erupts into chaos, the lights dimming, and then it dawns on you. Their set is over. This is over. Damn.

The backup performers step out from the shadows and down into the crowd, pulling fellow show-goers to the open dance floor. The DJ picks up the tempo as more and more people leave their seats to join in on the fun, including your friends who are dancing with a few hotties themselves.

The curtains shut dramatically again, closing you off from the outside world.

“Follow me,” A stagehand says, grabbing your attention and directing you backstage with SpankMaster and SlickNasty.

“Um…What now?” you ask nervously as the two look at each other knowingly. “I should-uh. I should head back, right?” You awkwardly point to the front of the venue.

“Well, now you have a decision to make,” Hongjoong smirks. “You can go back to your friends…”

“Or you can stay here with us,” Mingi finishes, cracking open the door to his dressing room, inviting you to join them.

Your gaze travels back and forth between the two. Half of you knows better than to pretend like you don’t know what will happen if you go in there. But the other half of you is dying to find out if you’re right. It is your last night of freedom, how can you turn down this chance?

“Do you trust us?” Mingi asks, pulling you from your battling thoughts.

“Yes.”

Your stomach twists in anticipation as they shut the door behind you, and with a decisive click, you’re locked inside.

Mingi is the first to touch you, his large hands wrapping around your bare waist, pulling your backside up against his front. Those same hands slide up to your breasts, kneading them lightly at first. You moan, reaching backward to clutch his strong thighs, your nails digging into them as his grip tightens.

“You’re gonna be a fun one, aren’t you,” Mingi chuckles in your ear, nipping at it gently before pulling away from you. He joins Hongjoong who’s sitting on the black couch, waiting.

“Last chance to leave, sweetheart,” Hongjoong warns, tapping the space between him and Mingi. Your legs move before your mind and heart even catch up to what you truly want, what you crave.

You should be running back to your friends, and yet, you sit.

“Good girl,” Hongjoong murmurs before crashing his lips against yours. His tongue tickles the corner of your lips, demanding to be let inside.

Simultaneously, Mingi works to undo your pants. You lift your hips, giving him space to drag the fabric down your hips, leaving them in a pile on the floor.

“Damn, baby,” he groans, looking at your damp panties. “Look how worked up you already are. Spread your legs for us. Let us see how wet you are.”

You comply and are kindly rewarded when Mingi’s fingers pull your panties to the side. Sucking in a sharp breath, your head falls back as he spreads your dewy folds open with his digits.

“Is the fact that I’m fingering you while my best friend watches getting you all worked up?” he questions devilishly, already knowing the answer. Your face twists in pleasure with every curl of his fingers.

Mingi’s other hand wraps around your hair, pulling your mouth to his. He sucks in your bottom lip, surprising you when he bites down.

Hongjoong sucks on your exposed neck, then hovers above the spot he created, pleased with the purplish spot already growing. One of his hands dips down between your legs, meeting Mingi’s as he adds another two fingers inside you.

“This pretty little cunt’s gotta get stretched out if she’s gonna take both of us. Do you want that?” Hongjoong asks, his voice all husky.

“Yes,” you breathe shakily, “I want that so bad.”

Their fingers quicken, pumping in perfect sync, each thrust inward hits that sweet spot that has you dancing dangerously close to the edge.

“Please, please!” you cry out, begging for release.

“That’s it, gorgeous. Let us hear those pretty moans,” Hongjoong praises.

Your body inevitably tenses as shockwaves rush through your body, pleasure pulsating head to toe as your insides contract around their slowing fingers.

Mingi tilts his head and grins. “Are you ready?” he asks as you’re catching your breath.

Before the words ‘for what’ even have time to register in your brain, he moves from his spot next to you and kneels between your legs. Swiftly placing his hands behind your knees, he yanks you forward. “I know what to do to make this kitty purrrrrr,” he rolls his tongue, “Are you ready to find out why they call me SlickNasty?”

“God, yes,” you plead as he rips your useless panties off, throwing the remaining fabric elsewhere.

Mingi delves into your soaked center, and he moans deliciously, loving your sweet taste. The one thing he loves most in the world is pleasing a woman with his tongue; the satisfaction he gets is unmatchable.

His tongue licks up your slit, circling the sensitive nub several times, making your legs shake and his length stiffen.

“Such a good slut. Look at you, trying to fuck my tongue,” Mingi rasps as you push back against his mouth.

You’re a moaning mess, frozen in pleasure, and Hongjoong takes the opportunity to untie the back of your top. He tosses it aside with the rest of the clothing that is quickly disappearing.

He sucks one of your velvety peaks into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth before sucking to alleviate the pain.

Hongjoong massages your other breast with his hand while his mouth continues its beautiful assault on your hardening point. He releases his lips only briefly, blowing air over your wet mound, before swapping to the other side.

“Fuck, I need more,” you beg, arching your back off the couch.

As if they know that you’re on the precipice of coming again, the two men work harder; Mingi’s tongue lapping your folds as his nose rubs against your sensitive clit, Hongjoong’s teeth tugging on your nipple.

A moan tears through you, your body convulsing as your second orgasm courses through your veins.

Without giving you time to come down from your high, Mingi flips your body over in one quick movement, leaving you on your hands and knees. He stands at the end of the couch, shoving his leather pants down and freeing his cock.

Your mouth waters as you take in the size of him. Something reflects in the light, and your eyes quickly land on his tip. It’s pierced, with two bars crossing over each other, creating the perfect ‘X’ marks the spot.

“Open wide for me, pretty girl,” he says, quickly shoving his length into your stunned mouth. He’s hot and heavy, just his tip alone fills your mouth. You stretch your jaw, opening as wide as you can to take in more of him.

Something feral inside Mingi switches when he notices his cock creating a bulge in your throat. He growls, grabbing a fistful of your hair to hold your head steady while he watches it move as he does.

Hongjoong undresses behind you, quickly finding his place at your backside. He takes a moment to enjoy your ass from this angle, gazing unapologetically before raising a hand to slap the perfectly untouched skin.

Your flesh jiggles from the impact, and he rubs the area to relieve the stinging. He admires the redness growing across your cheeks as he spanks you again and again.

You moan, vibrating around Mingi’s cock.

“I think she likes that, what do you think Hongjoong?” Mingi says through gritted teeth.

“I know something she’ll like even more,” Hongjoong answers before slamming his thick length into your heat.

“Oh yeah,” he practically purrs, loving the way you take all of him. With every hard thrust from Hongjoong, you choke around Mingi’s cock.

Mingi wipes the drool dripping down from your chin before gripping your jaw, “You’re just a toy that’s meant to be stuffed from both ends, isn’t that right?”

You nod as much as you are able with his length still shoved deep down your throat.

“Such a good toy,” Hongjoong compliments, awarding your ass with another hard smack. Your nails dig into the arm of the couch to keep from falling over.

Holy fuck.

Mingi’s cock twitches, but he holds back. He’s got other plans on where his cum will be spilling tonight. He makes eye contact with Hongjoong, and they share the same thought as he slips out of your wrecked mouth.

You mewl at the loss of contact when Hongjoong also pulls out. But before you have time to ask questions, Mingi lifts you and carries you over to his vanity, gently setting you down against the cool marble countertop.

Hongjoong’s eyes land on something white and silky on the floor; he smirks at his finding.

Perfect, he thinks, grabbing it from the ground and twisting it in his hands as he saunters over toward you. Your mind registers that it’s your ‘bride’ sash.

“Hold your wrists out.” You do as you're told, and he ties it around them. He lifts your joined hands over your head, pinning them in place. “Will you keep them there?” he asks.

“Yes,” you whisper, keeping them lifted when he removes his hands.

Your eyes wash across both men’s bodies, their cocks resting up against their abs. It’s the best sight in the world.

They look to you for approval as they line their cocks lined up with your center. You nod repeatedly, silently begging them to fuck you already. 

Slowly, they both push into your needy cunt. You feel the cool metal of Mingi’s piercing glide against your inner walls as they sink into you.

Mingi tosses his head back once he’s pushed to the hilt; the position shows off his tense neck veins.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong hisses as his body goes rigid. Taking in a couple of deep breaths, he regains his composure and turns his head toward Mingi, giving a slight nod to say it’s go-time.

You scream out when they pull back, slamming back into you before you even have time to register. Pain mixed with pleasure at the stretch you out.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Hongjoong says, his hand gripping your waist.

“So fucking tight,” Mingi groans.

Your eyes land on your lower stomach, where you can see their cocks practically rearranging your insides. Moaning as you watch the bulge move in and up and down motion, your arms momentarily fall while distracted.

Hongjoong growls, grabbing your bound wrists and slamming them back up against the wall. His thrusts get slightly sporadic, getting closer to his own release.

Your body glistens with sweat, and Mingi is entranced by your perfect tits with perky nipples bouncing in circles as they hammer into you.

You hook your legs around both men, crying out when Hongjoong pinches your clit.

“Come. Now.”

Mingi’s demand has your mouth watering from the sheer dominance laced in his voice. Your eyes flutter as your face twists, accepting your fate as you succumb to orgasm number three.

Hongjoong grunts as your walls tighten around both cocks. His eyes roll back as he releases his creamy load into you. He shudders, pulling out of you and watching some of his cum drips onto the floor below.

Mingi growls after Hongjoong steps back, lifting one of your legs as he pounds into you one, two, three more times until his cum shoots through your soft folds.

You’re perfectly content and ruined, unable to move.

“Didn’t I say that would be fun?” Mingi says after noticing your blissfully fucked face. He leaves a quick kiss on your cheek before stepping back to clean himself.

When he returns, you’re about to reach for one of the tissues he has in hand when you’re quickly stopped by Hongjoong.

“Ah, ah, ah.” He shakes a finger, before putting two between your legs, stuffing their creamy mixture back up into your heat.

“That’s for later, when you’re missing us,” he winks, handing you your pants to slip on while Mingi reaches for your top.

“So, you better get back to your friends,” Mingi says, stepping back after he helps you into your shirt. “We don’t want them to think you got lost for good.”

Hongjoong taps you on the ass lightly as you’re led to the door, “Goodbye, hot stuff.” He smirks. “Good luck with the wedding.”

…Oh yeah…

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©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

[huuuuughes]

First Time Feeling - Mat Barzal x Reader

Pairing: Mat Barzal x Fem!Reader

Word count: 6.4k

Warnings: so much fluff, did i go overboard? maybe lol

A/N: this was my first time participating in a fic exchange and i honestly had so much fun. this is for the summer fic exchange 2k24 hosted by the lovely @wyattjohnston. it is written for the also fantastic @ahockeywrites! i am your friendly neighborhood exchange writer. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it!

also i used google translate for the french. pls dont come for me if its not right im doing my best

It’s that time of year, when hockey pauses and every hockey player you know has a wedding because they scarcely get to have them in season. Growing up a coach's daughter, you were not unfamiliar with NHL weddings, and it meant your best friends were other kids from the organization your dad was in at the time. Now that you were getting to be that age it meant everyone you knew was having weddings.

Except you.

You were the one single person remaining in the bridal party for your best friend. Everyone did their best to try and include you without making it feel like third wheeling but sometimes it felt like that anyway. It wasn’t like they could help it and you were always happy for them. Weddings just seemed to rub salt in a wound now. Being alone scared you more than a lot of things. Which is why you were taking this bachelorette weekend to let loose and have fun. At least more than you usually let yourself. Your ability to do shots at a fast pace and without hesitation got you to that buzzed feeling a little too quickly.

But everyone was having fun. The band that was playing for the bar was insanely good and every song kept making you wanna dance. You managed to drag a few of your friends out onto the dance floor with you and it was the first time you felt free in a very long time.

“We’re gonna go get a drink, do you want something?!” Hannah attempts to yell over the volume of the music.

“YEAH, just water is good! Thanks!” You didn’t want to leave the dance floor- you were having a really good time. You let the music be your happy place for the moment, forgetting any problem you had before coming in the door. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed a trio of men looking at you. And then you have to do a double take, because you’d just seen those same 3 men at the previous bar, and the one before that…

Moving to a different spot on the dance floor didn’t seem to help. Hannah still wasn’t back from the bar and you were starting to think that these creeps were trying to form some kind of blockade. It was unsettling, but your usual fears were blurred by the alcohol that was currently coursing through your veins. You had forgotten there was a reason you didn’t like to drink that often. Then there was a tap on your shoulder, and as you turned around one of them was right there.

“You wanna dance sweetheart?” He screamed in your ear.

“No thanks! Just waiting for a friend!”

“I don’t see that friend anywhere right now, why don’t you want to dance?” Attempting to get closer to you, he moved forward causing you to back up into a stranger. Another one of his friends, you discovered, once you saw the first one smirk like there was some kind of inside joke that you weren’t in on.

“I said no.”

“That’s not what that outfit says.”

“Get away from me you fucking creep.” Your voice was firm, attempting to just go back to having fun. You closed your eyes, trying to let the music flow through you again. When you opened them there was yet another man coming at you, but this one didn’t feel threatening. He looked familiar, like you had maybe seen him before in passing. You couldn’t place it sober, and you definitely couldn’t in the current state you were in. He was making a beeline for you, pushing the first creep out of his way and almost onto the ground.

“Holy shit babe, there you are!You, my love, are too drunk! Time to go home!” Before you knew it he was reaching for your waist and your feet were no longer touching the ground. He throws you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a paper weight. Instead of the panic you should have felt, you relaxed over him. You didn’t fight the motion, it felt good to just stop for a moment. But then you realized that you really didn’t know who this was either and you just let a strange man pick you up and carry you out of the dance floor area.

“UM YEA HI, WHO ARE YOU?” You attempted to yell at him but the music was still loud. He either didn’t hear you or chose not to respond because you didn’t receive a response.

“Excuse me! Sir! I demand to know who you are please!”

Still nothing from him. He was like a big brick wall.

“JUST BECAUSE I'M SMALL DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN JUST MAN HANDLE ME.”

But then you were on the ground again. It had felt like years before he set you down again but when he did you were once again reunited with your friends. You finally had a chance to get a good look at the stranger who carried you. He was definitely over six feet tall, and was honestly the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life. His eyes were a soft brown color that you could almost drown in. His hair was also brown, and fell in different directions all over his head. The expression on his face was a neutral one, but you felt drawn to him.

“Girl holy shit, why didn’t you tell us those creeps were still following you?!”

“Stop shouting at him babe, you are FINE!”

“You guys failed to mention your friend was such a chatterbox when she’s intoxicated.” The man laughed, but you could barely focus on anything with the way the world seemed to be swaying about.

“Thanks so much Mat, for rescuing our friend. She’s kind of key to the wedding festivities this weekend.”

“No problem. I hope your night gets better from here. Tell Coach I said hi. Maybe I’ll see you this weekend ladies.” He winked, like he knew he was going to but was just saying that to be clever. He looked like he felt accomplished about your frustrated state. As if he found it cute or endearing that you were so small yet had so much anger.

“You know she’s single Mat!” One of your friends interjected. And with that the handsome stranger who now had a name walked off and out of the bar, and you wondered who his friends were. You watched as a smile broke out on his face again, as if he was thinking hard about the proposition just said to him.

“Have a safe night ladies.” He lifted his head in a nod and you watched him walk out of the bar and out of your sight.

Everyone in your group had also decided that they had enough for the night and you booked it back to your hotel. The wedding was in 2 days, and the rehearsal dinner is tomorrow evening. Tonight was the last night to let loose and perhaps you had come too loose.

The next morning…

Your head was pounding. Opening your eyes was a no go, the light too painful to look at. It was like your entire head was pulsing. Liquor should definitely not be mixed with any other type of alcohol, you thought.

“WAKEY WAKEY BITCH, UP AND AT EM!” The bride came into your room, clearly more ready to tackle the day than you were.

“Oh my god Hannah. STOP YELLING. My head is killing me…” you groaned.

“Oh I know, I was there too, bestie. I’ve brought Tylenol and water, and there’s breakfast in my room. Oh and here’s some sunglasses. Those might help for a bit.” She thrust all of the items in your arms and helped you sit up without dying.

“Come on, we have a bridal party meeting, maid of honor!”

You loved Hannah, you really did, but if she didn’t lower her volume you thought your head might explode. After a quick shower, some meds, and an outfit change you were ready for the bridal party meeting there was to be had. When you walked into the room it was a mixture of excitement and groaning. All of the bridesmaids looked like they’d been through it, but the groomsmen were relaxed. The groom had his party a few weeks ago, just in case any shenanigans ensued.

“There she is!”

That voice. You knew that voice…God why did you know that voice?

You almost dropped the plate of food in your hands. When you turned around the shock of who it was rendered you speechless. It was the man who carried you across the bar last night. The man you thought you’d never see again after that embarrassing spectacle you’d caused. The memory was slowly coming back to you, and you really, really hoped there wasn’t video evidence.

“Good to see you survived your journey home.” He smirked.

“Wait! Do you know Mat?!” Clutterbuck asked. You knew Cal from your dad’s years in the league. You knew most of the people in the room, but Mat had been a pretty private guy. You didn’t really know much about him other than he was damn good at hockey and had pretty nice eyes. Since you only knew him in passing, you had never heard him talk much and drunk, you definitely did not recognize him. You felt like the blood had entirely drained from your face all you could think of was how quickly you could get out of that room.

“Apparently I do.” Your eyes tried to stay fixed on the ground as the meeting got started. It was basically just going over who was going to walk down the aisle with who and what everyone’s entrances would be for the reception.

“So, you’ll be with Mat. You guys good with that?” You locked eyes with your best friend. You knew exactly what she was doing. She was trying to play matchmaker without even asking you first. How would she even know if he was your type?

“I mean I-,” You stammered.

“Yeah, it sounds great to me.”

Finally you had to look at him. Of course he would say that, maybe he was in on it, you were being tortured by all of your friends. You had to begin lining up to practice, making sure you didn’t fall flat on your face and embarrass the bride. They all knew him, there was definitely an underlying motive. You had a feeling it was because they didn’t want everyone to pair up and you were left by yourself. It was a nice gesture, but being filled in would have felt nice so you did not in fact have a strange man picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder in a bar.

Being the maid of honor, you were last in the order to go. You waited patiently in the back of the line, the only one who was not linked in arms with their partner. Mat offered his arm to you, attempting to show some good will.

“You gonna take it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“No.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about last night. Your friends told me to come get you by whatever means necessary so that is what I did.”

“So you decided the only way was to pick me up with no warning? Who taught you to do that?” You threw your arms up in the air almost in defeat, you didn’t know what to make of what he did. You may have been drunk but you were never going to forget looking down at the ground when being carried across the room.

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” He shrugged and still somehow managed to look smug. He knows what he’s doing, and he definitely thought that he was being charming by doing so.

“I want you to tell me why you did that! All you had to do was grab my hand and lead me away!” You’d had enough of his games. You were going to get some answers before the night was over and done with.

“They all seem to know you, but I don’t. Why is that?” You had turned to face him, staring him down in order to get him to crack. It was almost your turn. You’d run into a slight issue when the bride decided she wanted to switch up the order of things before the honors of maid of honor and best man. All this meant was more time to get him to crack, which if he had known any better, would not take you very long. His resolve was weakening, and quickly.

“I’ve been around. You just haven’t noticed me.”

“I think I would have noticed you.” It would be hard to miss someone as pretty as he was. Did you really just admit that? Your dad hadn’t been with the Islanders for several years, but you still knew who most of the team was. Based on what you had managed to Google on the walk from the meeting to the present rehearsal location was that he was a pretty damn good hockey player.

“I don’t think so sweetheart. Your friends have told me all about you too, you know.”

“Oh yeah? What did they tell you?” You were almost angry but didn’t know why.

“Well for starters they just want you to be happy. They know you haven’t been happy for a little while now.” He smiled at you, and you tried not to melt in response. The way your body reacted so physically to him when all he did was smile was not something that you could ignore.

“And what else?” You prompted.

“My last relationship was some time ago, and let’s just say it didn’t end that well. They’ve noticed I haven’t been happy either.”

“You look happy to me.”

“Looks can be deceiving. The cameras and the media pick up only what they want to see.” This time he didn’t meet your eye. Which told you everything you needed to know. You would never understand how strangers and the media thought they knew someone just by what you see them do as an athlete. As if they don’t have personal lives or things that are important to them. Your suspicions were confirmed, but not in the way you thought. Of course your friends wanted to set you up with someone. Not to be funny or to try and make a joke, but they hated to see you so unhappy. Things were starting to make a little more sense.

“So you knew their motives?” You asked, feeling bad about how you had sort of gone at him without knowing why. You couldn’t undo the years of crappy guys that you had to deal with in the past, but now you could learn to give Mat a better chance.

“Partially. I knew they wanted to set me up with someone, but I don’t enjoy the anxiety of blind dates. They didn’t want me to say anything to you- they wanted to protect you. Based on your reaction I’m guessing you don’t enjoy surprises either.”

“Correct. So what would you like to do about this?” You asked, hopeful.

“I think we should see where the weekend takes us, and go from there. How’s that sound?”

You hoped that he couldn’t see the blush starting to appear in your cheeks. Your friends did this on purpose. They wouldn’t just set you up with some hockey player they didn’t know or trust, they knew he had to be vetted first. They also knew that you wouldn’t just take being set up with someone due to your stubbornness, so this was the only way they knew how to get to you.

“I’d like that.” His smile was infectious and you could feel yourself reciprocating.

Once the rehearsal dinner was figured out, the rest of the evening seemed to go as planned. Most importantly, the bride was happy. You noticed Mat across the room, smiling at you. You were alone at the bar, and watched him excuse himself from the conversation he was having to walk your direction.

“You wanna get out of here?” It was almost a whisper, so only you could hear it. You looked around the room to make sure that your absence wouldn’t be noticed.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You took the hand that he offered you and followed him out of the room. His car was already waiting, the perks of having the wedding on Long Island was a lot of the wedding guests already lived in the area.

“I feel like a teenager sneaking out when I’m not supposed to!” He held the door open for you as you slid in, and he climbed into the driver’s seat, “Where are you taking me sir?”

The sun was starting to set, making the sky an orangish pink color. It was like all of the colors of the sky melting together, painting a beautiful scene that no camera could ever do justice. He reached over and grabbed your hand as he began to drive. It looked like he was going nowhere in particular, and he squeezed your hand gently. You appreciated a first move when you saw one, it took the anxiety out of the way and you instantly felt more relaxed around him.

“There’s somewhere I want to show you. It’s not that far from here, is that okay?” You nodded. According to maps, the destination was only a few miles away. It was almost dark out, but not quite. The sun rested quietly in the sky, hovering just above the skyline ready to disappear. Mat still held your hand in his, gently squeezing every so often as if to reassure you of something but you weren’t quite sure what yet. When you arrived at your destination, there wasn’t another car to be seen. The only sound came from a distance, and then you looked around.

“Where are we?” You asked.

“Crescent Beach. I used to come here a lot when I first came to New York. The city can be overwhelming sometimes, but out here you can actually hear yourself think. The sunset’s here are something to behold, I’ve heard.” He held out his hand for you to take, and led you on to the beach. He had already grabbed two blankets from his trunk. You laughed a little bit, you always kept blankets and towels in the back of your car just in case too.

“It looks like we’re just in time for sunset.” Mat laid down one of the blankets on the sand. You were close enough to the water to be able to smell it, but not close enough that the tide could touch you. He placed the other blanket over the two of you, sitting down beside you after you got comfortable.

“The sky looks beautiful right now. I would have never thought a sunset in Long Island could look like this!” You closed your eyes for a second, taking in the smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves. It was the peace you were looking for during the wedding weekend.

“New York can be beautiful when it wants to be. You just have to know where to look.”

“I like to think that whenever there is a sunset this beautiful, it’s just someone you lost saying hello. Like a little wave from the sky, you know?” You asked him. He nodded, looking out across the horizon. “Tell me about you Mat.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why did our friends want to set you up with someone?” You were curious.

“I’d been on and off with someone for a long time. It was unhealthy for me, and for anyone to be around me. Let’s just say I wasn’t always the most pleasant person. I want to start a family one day. With as much as players can move around, my home is with a person. Not a place or anything like that, if that makes any sense at all.”

“I was the same way with my dad. We moved around every few years, it felt like I could never really put down roots in one place.”

“What’s your favorite color?” He asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“What does my favorite color have to do with anything?”

“It says a lot about a person to me.”

“You’re a little strange, has anyone ever told you that?” You both laughed, his was infectious.

“Just answer the question!”

You tell him your favorite color, smiling.

“Don’t you want to know what mine is?” He asked.

“Tell me.”

“It’s blue.”

“Like Islanders blue?”

“Any blue, but right now, blue like the ocean.” The breeze started to blow hard, quickly reminding you that you were in fact in New York, not a beach somewhere tropical. Mat was good at making you feel like you were somewhere else but in a good way.

“Tell me something else about you Mr. Barzal.”

“Is this 20 questions or something?”

“It is now!” You playfully smacked his thigh, you were so close together it wouldn’t take much for you to lean in and kiss him.

“Tes yeux sont les plus beaux que j'ai jamais vus.” You could tell he was speaking French just from the way he changed his accent. Since when could this beautiful man speak french?!

“You can speak french?”

“A hobby of mine, you could say.” From the way the words flowed out of his mouth, you knew it wasn’t just a hobby.

“What did you say?” You turned to look at him, slightly shorter so that you had to look up to look at each other. Everything else seemed to disappear behind him. There could have been roars of people around you, but you wouldn’t have been able to hear them. It was true what they said, when you found the right person it was like everything else melted away.

“I said you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.” You couldn’t even attempt to hide the blush you could feel forming in your cheeks.

“Is that how you get all the ladies?” You managed to speak finally, after gaining your composure again. But your voice was quiet, like you didn’t want to know the answer.

“Tu es le seul que je veux.” His forehead came to rest against yours. You could feel his hot breath against your face, lighting the nerves in your body on fire.

“Tell me what you said.” You breathed out, trying to catch your breath as if it had been taken from you.

“You are the only one I want.”

“Okay.” You didn’t know why you were saying it. But he seemed to know why, and crashed his lips against yours. His hand came up to cup the back of your head, bringing you as close to him as you could get. The ocean breeze no longer seemed to matter as you began exploring each other’s bodies. He pulls you onto his lap, wrapping the blanket around you in one fluid motion. His lips tasted slightly of whiskey and chocolate, inviting and warm. Warmth blossomed in your chest, like you wanted to be engulfed in each other. You could feel his hands wanting to go under your shirt, and you nodded into the kiss to let him know that it was okay.

You pulled back just for a moment to catch your breath, but not letting your forehead leave his. You were breathing hard against each other as one, in sync already after the slightest touch. His eyes told you everything you needed to know, and you felt safe in his arms. Mat placed his hands on either side of your face, allowing you to feel just how much the moment meant to him. To him, he was holding his world in his hands and now he never wanted to let you go. His next kiss felt like fireworks, and now you knew what it felt like when people said they never wanted something to end. A kiss like the two of your lives depended on it, and you wanted to get lost in him. His kisses were soft at first and increased in intensity every time you drew back for a breath. You wanted more, you wanted all of him.

He breathed your name, realizing that it was in fact now dark outside. The only light came from the street lights in the parking lot and the small flashlight Mat had brought from his car. He brought you in for a hug against him, tucking your head into the nape of his neck. You fit there perfectly, and the smell of his cologne engulfed all of your senses.

“We should probably head back to the hotel.” He whispered, but didn’t make any moves to let go of you.

“Maybe…”

“That doesn’t mean we have to be alone tonight.” He squeezed you, the reassurance washing over you. You nod, and get up off the ground. Mat shakes off the blankets, trying to get rid of as much sand as possible. But you knew that there would be sand all over you for days, in places you never think sand would end up. He got you settled in the car, placing the supplies back where he got them from. Once back in the car, he took your hand once more and you drove quietly back to the hotel.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked.

“I like you.” Another hand squeeze. You didn’t know what to say back to him, too afraid that anything would scare him off just like the other guys you’d dated. “You don’t have to say it back yet, I just didn’t want this night to end without telling you that. When I know I want something, I won’t stop until I can have it. If you’ll let me, that is.”

“What about tonight?” He didn’t answer you, but that was okay. It was unspoken, hanging in the air like a cloud, but you knew you weren’t going to be alone that night. Or the rest of the weekend, if Mat had anything to say about it. Arriving back at the hotel, Mat handed his keys off to the valet and led you inside.

“Is there anything you need to get from your room?” He asked once in the elevator.

“Not that I can think of.”

“Good.” Once the elevator doors opened to his floor, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder once again. But this time you were more than okay with it. He had to set you down in order to open his room, but picked you up again once you were inside. He laid you down on the freshly laundered bed, throwing your shoes across the room and his along with them. You crawled under the covers together, and all he did was hold you. There were the occasional make out sessions throughout the night, but nothing more. He told you about his childhood and growing up playing hockey, and you told him about the life of being a coach's daughter.

He told you about the way he likes his eggs cooked, his pregame rituals, and all the movies he liked to watch. You talked about anything and everything that came to mind, eventually falling asleep in his arms. When you woke up it didn’t feel strange, it felt like you were supposed to be there. The morning after was always an awkward moment, falling over your words and trying to sneak out without the other person noticing. There was no sneaking out this time, instead you woke up with a kiss from Mat being planted on the top of your head.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He whispered, kissing around your neck and cheeks as much as he could.

“It’s wedding day today.” You smiled, you were excited to get your best friend in the world down the aisle. In helping her find her happiness, you had also managed to find some of yours.

“I’m guessing you have to go soon?” He asked, looking down at you.

“Well I am the maid of honor you know, I think someone will notice if I’m not there.”

“But what if I told you I just wanted to hold you all day instead?” He smirked. The hold that this man already had over you..

“What if I told you, that starting tomorrow you never had to let go of me again?” He sat up quickly and looked down at you.

“You mean it?”

“Well I don’t just spend the night with anyone, Mathew. I think our friends might just be right…” You smiled, he came down to kiss you so fast you didn’t even know what hit you. Was it crazy to rush into something so fast? Maybe. But did it feel right? Absolutely. You’d read all the romance novels of quick relationships, always telling yourself it wasn’t actually like that. Those were just fairy tales you could read about, nothing like that would ever happen in real life.

It took a little more convincing for him to actually let you get out of bed and go to the bridal suite where everyone was getting ready. Of course he had to be with the grooms party, but somehow it never took guys quite as long to get ready.

“Are you sure you have to go right now?” He asked once he pulled away from you. You didn’t want to get out of the nice comfy bed with a pretty man laying in it but duty called.

“Yessss, do you think you’ll be able to survive without me for a few hours?” You started to throw off the covers, but he pulled you back in.

“No, I don’t actually. I might just lay here and cry all day!” You laughed, knowing that both the bride and groom would come for him but let him pretend.

“You’ll be fine, I promise. If you let me go, I’ll let you grab my butt when we dance later.”

“DEAL!” One more quick kiss, and you were finally able to get up. One wave goodbye as you opened the door to leave, and you were off. You had to stop by your own room to get your dress and makeup, and then it was off to the bridal suite. You were surprisingly one of the first ones to arrive, and were able to eat a little bit of breakfast for once. Everyone in the bridal party got to choose their own dress as long as it was within the color palette, and yours was your favorite shade of blue. It fits you in all of the right places, just the way that it should. The bride paid for everyone’s hair to be done, and once everyone was all finished getting ready it was time to take pictures of the bridal party. The photographer seemed to be on her A-game, and for once things were running on time in your life. Anthony already gone to take his place

Finally you got to have a moment just you and your best friend on her big day. The day both of you had talked about since you were kids, the one that you spent planning on pinterest for hours without even a thought of someone in the picture.

“Hannah… you look stunning! I hope today is everything you ever dreamed it would be. I can’t wait to see the look on Anthony’s face when he sees you today. I’ll still beat him up if he ever hurts you though. Are you ready?”

“Have I told you I love you yet today?”

“I love you too girl. Let’s get you married!” Each bridesmaid had their groomsman, and you took your place at the end. Mat walked around the corner and paused when he saw you, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“You like something you see sir?” He offered up his arm for you to take once he made his way to you.

“Tu es le seul que je veux.” He repeated his words from last night, kissing your cheek.

“Me too.” You’d learn how to say it in french, one day at least.

Of course there wasn’t a dry eye in the house after the ceremony. After all of the guests made their way to the reception hall and the rest of the wedding party photos were taken, the evening seemed to go rather smoothly. You may or may not have felt Mat’s hand graze across your butt a few times during pictures, but you kindly reminded him that he wasn’t allowed to feel your butt until you got to dance. He acted like you were torturing him though, depriving him of a dream.

You wanted to get your wedding mingling out of the way first, so that you could enjoy the night with who you wanted. It did not go without notice that Mat’s eyes were following you around the room in a very flirty kind of way. You hadn’t felt like this in a really long time, like you could relax because you were finally comfortable with someone.

“Hey bestie, how is your night going?” Hannah found her way over to you, and more of your friends noticed. You recognized what was happening, they wanted to get all of the dirty details about you and Mat. Of course their plan was successful, but you were also a proud individual. All of them were smiling a little too big at you, asking without actually asking.

“I know what you’re trying to do here!” You accused her.

“Don’t waste time woman, we wanna know! How’s it going with Mat?” Hannah asked.

“I saw you going into his room last night!”

“We know you two snuck off last night, don’t even lie.”

“Where did he take you! Was it romantic?”

“One question at a time!” You were only one person after all, “It’s still very new, we just met this weekend.”

“That smile doesn’t lie sweetie.” You were a bad liar and they knew it.

“Okay fine. Yes we snuck off last night, yes I was in his room but we didn’t do anything but talk and make out, he took me to a beach, and yes it was romantic! Now if you don’t mind, I promised my man a dance and that he could touch my butt. I always keep my promises!”

“YOUR MAN?”

You ran before they could question you further, right towards Mat, who held his arms open for you. Hiding things was never your strong suit, so you two had decided to not even bother.

“They look like you just told them the world is going to end tonight, what happened?” He asked, bringing you into his arms for all the world to see. Clearly he was ready to make everyone aware you were an item, and you weren’t going to object.

“I called you my man, and then immediately walked away.” You smiled up at him.

“Oh you did?”

“Yes sir.”

“I guess that does leave us with the big question.”

“What question?”

“What are we going to do with us? Did this weekend make you want to see me again?” Great opportunities rarely presented themselves at your doorstep. Mat had treated you better in the last 24 hours than a lot of people and you already knew your loved ones approved. It felt right, your gut always had a good feeling about these things. It would always be fun to tell the grandkids you met at a wedding, you’d tell them the part about the bar when they were old enough.

“I said you were my man, did I not?”

“Well you did keep me waiting ma’am, that’s a criminal offense. I’m not sure if I’m your man yet.” He said through a smile.

“Oh is that so?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Nah I’m just fuckin with you, I’ve been dying to kiss you all night.” He brought his hands up to cup either side of your face, and kissed you in a way that shouldn’t be in the middle of your best friends wedding reception.

“You don’t want to touch my butt?” You ask when you finally pull apart.

“Of course I do, but if I touch your butt right now we would be leaving this party within the next few minutes and I believe we both have important things to do.” He whispered in your ear, giving him a look. A look that said I know you want to take my clothes off right now, so I’m going to do my best to tease you. After pulling away, Mat offered you his hand for the dance you had promised.

Standing in the middle of the dance floor with him, while looking at your surroundings and seeing how happy your best friend was, kind of hit you like a sack of bricks. A few years ago if someone had told you this was where your life would end up, you’d have called them crazy. You felt him kiss your forehead as you danced, and you felt yourself melt into him a little. You had no defenses against him, your walls suddenly disappeared when he was near. If he was out of your sight, suddenly the world wasn’t as clear anymore. Maybe summer wasn’t just a time for flings, because this one felt different. Who would have thought just one summer weekend could be so life changing.

........

Half a summer and one year later…

You couldn’t believe you were standing where you were. Summer was starting to become your favorite season. The only thing that brought you back down to earth was the squeeze you felt on your hand from your new husband. The look of reassurance on his face told you all that you needed to know, that he loved you and that you’d be fine. Crowds weren’t always your thing, even if it was your own wedding.

“You ready?”

He knew the timing of your entrance better than anyone, and you could hear Tito start to speak from the other side of the door. The doors opened, blinding you with light. You felt one last squeeze, and then your brain managed to get your feet to start moving again.

“My friends, it is my honor and great pleasure to introduce to you for the very first time… MR. AND MRS. MATHEW BARZAL!”

[artdcnaldson]

In part 2 you mentioned Patrick x reader having makeup sex after they got into stupid argument…. Can we get a flashback to one of those moments🤭🤭 domestic Patrick starting an argument with reader and reader calling him out about it but they end up making up in a cute way. Like Patrick making it up in a corny but cute way??? Just a suggestion, part 2 was amazing btw!

Rating: T

Warnings: just a minor argument, language ofc

A/N: thank youuuu!!! No smut in this little blurb, just a snapshot of domestic Patrick x reader in the changeover au 🫶🫶🫶

Also working on art x reader first time and also Patrick x reader first I love you blurbs for the changeover au :) so those will be coming sooooon

It was easy to let the stupid arguments devolve. It started with a facial expression when you brought up your college roommate’s wedding. An eye roll, an I-don’t-want-to-fucking-deal-with-that. And that became your, “why do you treat my friends and my life as less important?”

“I can’t fucking believe you got that out of me wanting to ditch Katie’s wedding to her dickhead loser fiancé.” Patrick’s words came out so flippant that it infuriated you further. “You don’t even talk to her outside of Facebook comments.”

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I didn’t realize that you’d be so fucking opposed to free food and booze considering you live off of it.”

Patrick set his jaw, glaring at you. It was a low blow, one you knew would sting. “I’m opposed to wasting my time flying out to bum fuck Iowa to because Katie— who has always hated me, by the way— is marrying some dickhead who’s a shill for a corrupt asshole in congress.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe she would like you, Patrick, if you ever put in an ounce of effort with anyone besides me.”

“Right, because I need to be friends with the kind of people whose proposal was a flash mob.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Right, because you’re just too cool for stuff like that.”

It was so fucking like him— making fun of the lame proposals your friends got, or their baby names, or their engagement shoots. Sometimes they were lame— flash mobs were fucking stupid— but sometimes they were sweet, and romantic, and there was Patrick acting like he’d rather blow his brains out than ever publicly admit he cared.

“Yeah, I am.” He said back.

You rolled your eyes and stood. “Whatever, Patrick. I’ll RSVP for one, again, and you can bum around my apartment alone.”

You had slammed the bedroom door before he could respond, which left him alone and seething in the living room.

You heard the front door open, then slam shut, signaling that Patrick was going out for a smoke, or a walk, or something.

You opened Facebook and scrolled through your feed. Katie’s engagement photos, a coworker’s new baby, a college friend’s bachelorette weekend. And there you were, fighting so your boyfriend would finally be your plus one to something.

It wasn’t always his fault— he had tournaments, and commitments. But a lot of the time, it was an active dismissal of things you found important— engagement parties, friends visiting the city, the increasingly common baby shower.

You didn’t blame him. Adult stuff sucked, and it was almost always boring and agonizingly slow. But you just wanted him to show up with you for things that were big.

It would be stupid to break up over Katie, who you genuinely weren’t even that close to. She’d been a decent friend Freshman year, you supposed, but that was the extent of it. The invitation to the wedding was probably a formality.

All you wanted was an excuse to show off your super hot, super cool boyfriend. To get tipsy over free booze, then leave the wedding early to fuck in the shitty Best Western hotel room that wedding guests would get a discount rate on.

A few hours later, the front door opened, and you sat up against the headboard, waiting eagerly to see if he’d be the first to break, or if you would.

You heard four gentle knocks against the door, saw Patrick’s sneakers beneath the door. “You can come in,” you said softly.

Patrick slipped into the room and joined you on the bed. He kept space between you, just in case you were still mad, but met your gaze with the sad eyes of a kicked puppy.

“I bought a suit,” was all he said. “And I tried to buy you a huge bouquet of flowers since I was a dickhead, but my card declined since I just bought the suit, so…”

His hand was resting on the empty expanse of mismatched bedsheets between you. You moved your hand into his, tangling your fingers together. “You bought a suit, huh?”

He nodded, squeezing your hand lightly. “I’ll stop being a dick about Katie’s wedding.” He paused, turning away from your gaze. “I think… I’m away so much that when I’m home, I just want it to be me and you.”

You leaned forward and kissed his nose. “I just want to show you off to everyone I know,” you said lightly. Your forehead stayed pressed to his, and you relished in the closeness. “I don’t give a fuck about Katie or her ugly loser fiancé’s stupid wedding.”

Patrick grinned. “Oh? So you just want a hot, professional athlete to be your arm candy, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re always cheapening the moment.” You leaned forward kissing him sweetly, which always seemed to devolve into a hungry mess of tongues and spit when Patrick was involved.

“Wait—“ you said suddenly, right as Patrick began peeling off your top. “You said your fucking card declined? You drained your bank account for this stupid wedding?”

He paused, his hands warm on your bare skin. “Uh… it felt like a grand gesture kind of moment.” You leaned in and kissed him, pulling your shirt off the rest of the way.

Not smutty but I neeeeeeeded to write some domestic Patrick x reader 😁🫶 my pookies my babies my loves

[ghoststyles]

Missed Connections

Harry X YN WC: 6K

No smut in this one. Didn't feel right! Hopefully you like this as much as I do :)

______________________________________________________________

New York City, 1998

This dive bar is abysmal. 

Your Coach shoulder bag is sticking to the bar top while a ZZ Top-esque biker gang member chain smokes in the corner, blowing the smoke straight into your face, as One Headlight by the Wallflowers plays at a volume far too loud for your liking. 

The bartender places a poorly laminated menu, riddled with ring stains from the thousands of beers and simple cocktails poured over them. You’d be shocked if the vinyl seats don’t carry some sort of venereal disease, making you pull your jean skirt down, minimizing the direct contact with your skin. 

It’s a Thursday, your long days in the office, and the start of your best friend, Marcie’s, bachelorette party weekend. When did bachelorette parties turn into a weekend affair, anyway?

You suppose it’s because you’re the only single girl in the group; the only one to actually leave your suburban, central New Jersey upbringing to attend college and build a career in New York City. 

This is how you found yourself hosting 4 girls in your 550 square foot apartment for 3 days. Chickie’s the one with the fabulous life in Manhattan, why don’t we visit her! And who are you to say no? If it weren’t for her sister, you’d be Marcie’s Maid of Honor, so an unmitigated amount of guilt fell on your shoulders as the long distance bridesmaid. 

“Smile, Chickie, you look miserable. That’s not gonna get you a boyfriend any time soon,” Jenny teases you as she sits on the stool between you and the biker, her nose crinkling as she smells the vapor of the Marlboro reds. 

Jenny is the powerhouse of the group; the loud mouthed, opinionated friend who takes pleasure in picking on the other girls. You never pay her any mind. You thought for sure she’d eventually phase out after high school, but here she is nagging you, as usual. Even worse, she used your childhood nickname.

“I’m good, Jen. It’s not looking like my husband is going to walk through the door, anyway,” you laugh exasperatedly, looking around at the empty bar room illuminated by red lights and tons of novelty beer branded mirrors. The biker man leans back on his stool, furrowing his brows at you.

Jen laughs, lighting up her own cigarette and taking a long inhale. “You know, Andrew and I can set you up with any of his colleagues. Most of them are divorced once or twice, but, still good looking.”

Your lips purse out in preparation of a smart comeback, but your eyes divert to the door, where a group of late twenty and thirty something men walk through the door, taking seats at the corner of the bar. They huddle around one another, blocking your view of their faces. 

By this point, your girlfriends have changed the music and begin to dance on the tiny checkerboard dance floor, garnering the looks of everyone in the crowded space. Marcie is sloshing her drink around, the miniature veil in her hair slipping down as she moves. 

The biker man, your only ally for the evening, is now on a stool by the dartboard, dozing off as he nurses his umpteenth Budweiser. The bartender has refilled your gin & tonic a few times already, to which you place a few bills in his jar to your left. 

Marcie and Grace are now twirling around to You’re Still the One by Shania Twain, narrowly bumping into the group of men who walked in earlier. Marcie’s veil is barely grappling onto the top of her head, sending the two into a laughing fit.

You smile gently, still feeling the wave of exhaustion from your day in the office. In your own little bubble, your pocket of peace is disturbed when the stool next to you scrapes across the cement floors, sending an unstoppable shiver up your spine. 

“I’ll have a Budweiser, and whatever she’s having,” the new character quietly says to the bartender. Your head whips around to the gentle, but domineering tone, to find he’s not even looking at you. He fishes a twenty dollar bill from his wallet, sliding it in the direction of the barman. His brown, curly hair is unkempt, slightly hanging in his eyes as he looks down at you. 

“Thanks, but I can take care of it myself,” you brush him off, immediately turned off by the lack of eye contact.

“You’re the only one in here matching my energy tonight,” he chuckles, before turning his head to the biker in the corner. “Well, except for that guy.”

“I’m sure he’d love a drink,” you smirk, thumb picking at the laminated drink menu in front of you.

The stranger takes a swig of his beer, before placing it gently on the coaster. He finally turns to look at you, and you have to stop yourself from gawking. His striking eyes and perfectly chiseled jaw is the first thing to stand out. Looking down, his sleeves are rolled up to reveal a few sparse tattoos around his wrist and forearm.

“You’re the most miserable bridesmaid, and I’m the most miserable Best Man.”

You scoff, taking a sip of your cocktail before meeting his eyes over the rim of your glass. You place the cup down, jiggling the ice with it. 

“Bold of you to make any assumptions about me. I’m just here minding my own business.”

He purses his lips, now fully turning to face you on the stool next to him. “I’ve been here 30 minutes. You’ve only given blank stares to everyone in here, and exchanged glances with the motorcycle guy over there in whatever morse code you two have developed.”

About ready to hop off the stool and storm out, you’re intrigued at the next sentence out of his mouth. 

“I’m serious. We might as well get through this night together," he leans on the bar top, fist now supporting his chin. "How about we play 20 questions while your girls take shots and my boys stand there awkwardly watching.”

You scoff indignantly, unbelieving whether or not this twenty-something (thirty something?) man really wants to play 20 questions in the middle of a dive bar on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Laughing to yourself, you turn to face him.

“I’ll go first. Break the ice a little,” he licks his lips, placing his bottle down on the disintegrating coaster on the worn bar top. “Most traumatic childhood memory?”

As the question pours out of his mouth, you take a sip of your watery G&T, eyes bulging at the blatant bold question. 

“That—That, is what you start with? What about the name of my first pet? Name of my elementary school?”

“Who am I, your bank?” 

A smile finally— finally, makes its way to your lips. The tattooed stranger you met 35 minutes ago doesn’t seem so scary anymore.

From the dance floor, Marcie shoots you a knowing smile before pursing her lips and gyrating, taunting you, since you’re the notoriously modest friend.

You roll your eyes before meeting his — Blue? Green? You can’t really tell in the dim lighting. The Rolling Rocks neon sign is casting a hue over the left side of his face, a smile makes its way onto his face while he awaits your answer.

“My mom left me at a Walmart and didn’t realize for about thirty minutes. I stood with the old man who greets everyone at the door until she came back. Then he bought me a bouncy ball out of the machine in the vestibule so I’d stop hyperventilating.”

He sucks his lip in, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. Hesitating, he speaks again. Reaching for your hands folded neatly in your lap, he places his grotesquely large ones over them, staring into your eyes earnestly. 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” his voice dripping with sarcasm and mirth. 

Balling up your fists, you shake his hands off of yours. “You asked! I was only 7. It took me months to go back to Walmart, let alone look that poor 75-year old greeter in the eye.” 

He chuckles, taking another swig of his beer. “Okay, next question—” he starts, before you interrupt.

“Wait, I don’t get to ask a question?”

He hums, pretending to ponder it. 

“Mmmm, nope. I got some good ones,” he replies, gently tapping his temple with his middle finger. He sighs, taking another drink of his beer.

“Is the hokey pokey really what it’s all about?” He slightly tilts his head in your direction, shrugging. 

You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. What higher power above sent this creature over to talk to you? Your lip juts out into a pout as your eye contact cuts over to your safe haven — biker man. He seems to have more to worry about, like not falling asleep in the bar. 

Recognizing the shock that washes over your face, the man recoups, “Shit, I know — I know, that was so bad.”

It’s the gin. The giggles pour out of you, sending a sharp pain to your stomach. You grab his bicep so you don’t fall off the stool, squeezing the solid muscle there. He snorts, tilting his head back. Your kitten heels scrape the metal bar at the foot of the counter, barely giving you anything to grip on to.

“I’m gonna pee my pants,” tears are fully flowing from your eyes at this point. “I can’t, I can’t.” 

The man cackles, placing a hand on your lower back. Now, your group of girls gravitate to your corner of the bar, bumping into one another and spilling their cosmos. His boys have now gained their liquid courage to morph the two groups together. You’re the only single one, but you won’t ruin anyone’s fun.

“And I don’t wanna miss a thing! Even when I dream of you…” Marcie belts out Aerosmith into her pretend microphone. “The sweetest dream will never do, cause I miss you, babe, and I don’t wanna miss a thing!”

In that moment, Christina strides over to the two of you with her disposable camera, ushering you to get in frame with him. He smiles down at you — how tall is this guy? Even sitting down he has at least a foot on you. You smile gently, leaning into him as the disposable’s flash goes off.

“So cute!”

You break the tension by latching onto his built body. He’s standing now, making sure not to block you from view of your friends. With just a few minutes from midnight, you finally feel loose and that you could actually have a good time with this guy. His hand hasn’t left your lower back, so he presses you into him before staring down at you. 

“Chickie! Come to the bathroom with me,” Grace slurs, grabbing your hand. “It’s upstairs and I don’t think my legs will carry me.”

You inhale through your nose, trying to find a moment of patience for your friend and her unpleasant interruption to the moment you’re sharing with this stranger. You glance up at him, unsure if you should go. The comfort his large frame is intoxicating on its own. 

“It’s okay, Chickie. I’ll be here,” he gently touches your lower back. 

You nod, smiling up at him gently, allowing Grace to pull you toward the small staircase leading to the bathrooms. The walls of the corridor are riddled with graffiti, old dollar bills and questionable amounts of gum.

Grace pulls you past and inconspicuous second bar (what kind of dive bar has a second floor? Who do they think they are, Le Cirque?) and through the crowd to the bathroom. 

The alcohol never feels like it hits until you come face to face with yourself in the dingy bathroom mirror. Despite your long history with drinking, (hellloooo football games in 10th grade drinking Burnett’s from the bottle) every heavy drinking night feels like the first time. You wait for Grace to finish up before hovering yourself over the toilet, unwilling to touch skin to porcelain. 

You both wash up, taking a moment to sniff each other’s pits, fluff each other’s hair and dab a damp paper towel on the backs of your necks to cool you off.

The burst of hot air upon opening the bathroom door is enough to knock you out, but, nevertheless, the two of you persist through the throng of bodies that appeared out of nowhere. You’re the blind leading the blind at this point, but you drag Grace’s half-limp body to the top of the steps, peering out over the crowd in hopes of spotting your guy.

You trudge down the stairs, the pounding of the wood reverberating straight to your brain, heartbeat picking up when you don’t spot him towering over the group anymore. You situate Grace on a stool next to biker man, silently nodding at him to watch over your friend before finding Jen, Christina and Marcie. 

“Jen, where did that group of guys go?” You tried to keep cool, not wanting to fall victim to her taunting, even if she’s inebriated. 

“Mmmm, who? OH! The bachelor party. They left.”

Your heart drops, cursing yourself for letting your guard down. Of course it was only a love connection on your end. As a last ditch effort, you look over the crowd, only to find biker man exiting the bar into the night.

“O-oh, um, did the — did the taller guy say anything before they went?”

“No, the groom was pretty fucked up. They basically carried him out. Sorry, Chickie.” 

Marcie suddenly bursts between the two of them, placing her arms around their shoulders.

“I’m ready for some McDonald’s!”

~

Why the fuck are you at the internet cafe? 

It’s 1:30 PM on a Wednesday, and your boss thinks you’re on a lunch break. After being talked off the ledge by your girlfriends while flipping through the Sunday Times after draining a bottle of cabernet, you decided to take matters into your own hands. 

Your mystery man from the bar hasn’t left your mind all week. Replaying the initial interaction — a bit cold, on both of your parts. But, the way he so easily opened you up and turned your night around kept you hooked. 

In a city of 7 million, the odds of finding him again were slim to none, so you assessed your options:

Going back to Mick’s.

Recruiting biker man to scour the city with you Ghostbusters style. He gave you his business card for exactly that purpose. 

Or writing a missed connections ad on Craigslist.

So, here you are, sat between a high schooler instant messaging on AOL and an old man using Ask Jeeves to diagnose a very personal medical issue. Taking a deep breath, you start the ad.

Every stroke of the keyboard was painful. This is so insanely out of your comfort zone, but the longing in your chest is too strong to ignore. The ad is the perfect mixture of nondescript and casual, but gives enough context that even if he were as dense as his friend group, he’d know it was him. 

Pressing post, you immediately exit the window, paying your $0.75 for internet time and a print out and fly out the door, a bell jingling in the path of your haste. You shove the ad in in the book in your purse and stomp down the street. The old man makes eye contact with you through the window, snarling a bit at your startling movement. It makes you want to yell at him through the window to go see a fucking doctor!

The heels you have on were not made for walking; exactly the opposite of what that insufferable Carrie Bradshaw promotes on that new show. It’ll be off the air soon enough. Reluctantly, you call a cab and head back to the office in hopes of taking your mind off the possibilities — a happy ending, or heartbreak.

~

The nervous tapping of your foot echos across the marble floor of Effie’s Café. Arriving 20 minutes early, you rotated back and forth between the wicker chairs at this clearly 4 person table. Should you face the door? He’ll see you in the daylight and make a run for it. How about your back to the door? No, he could actually be a murderer and attack you from behind. From the side? No, these are standing jeans only. 

Sigh. You decide to push your anxieties aside and order a glass of white wine, sitting with your back to the door to play up the mystery a bit more. One glass turns into two, and now you’re slightly sloshed for a Thursday at lunch time, hoping and praying you unlock the sweet, cool-girl personality you left him a taste of. 

The café starts to pick up for the lunch rush, so you don’t immediately recognize the familiar deep voice of someone is trying to get your attention from behind you. 

“Ladybug, is that you?”

Ladybug?

Slowly shifting your head to look over your right shoulder, your heart flutters at the tattooed forearm attached to the hand gripping the back of your chair. Only this time, the arm is attached to a tall, clean-shaven, blonde man. 

You look up, making contact with his blue eyes. Now you’re certain that mystery man had green eyes. The man in front of you smiles down at you as he pulls his chair out to sit. It’s like he’s not even recognizing everything wrong about this situation. 

He’s the wrong guy. You’re the wrong girl. Ladybug is the wrong nickname. 

“Um, hi. I’m no—

“It’s nice to meet you, officially. I’m Garrett,” he extends his hand to shake yours. You stare at it, dumbfounded and scheming your next move. 

“I think there may be a misunderstanding. I was trying to contact someone —.” 

“No misunderstanding. You sounded like a sweet girl in the ad. I’m just lucky my impression matches you physically. You’re stunning” 

No. Nope. Absolutely not. It’s not an honest mistake. He didn’t happen to speak to a girl in a dive bar with a silly nickname and tell stupid jokes just to get them to smile. This is the epitome of all of the warnings your parents gave you on computer safety. Sucking in a sharp breath, you locate the nearest exit, and look around in the most subtle way possible to flag down an employee. 

“So, tell me about yourself. What do you do for work?”

“I think I need to leave, this was a mistake —.”

“Mm, I don’t think so,” Garrett fakes interest in your unsettled body language. “You asked for this.”

You finally spot your server, grabbing crumpled bills from your purse to give to her on your way out. Garrett grabs your wrist firmly, preventing you from reaching your wallet. “I’d like to get to know you. We just got here.”

Panic. A feeling you’ve felt everyday since you could remember. Whether it’s being forgotten at a superstore, or sending an incorrect document, destroying the contract for your largest client, panic claws its way out of your central nervous system at any opportunity. 

You look down at your shaking hands, trying to conjure up a plan. Do you run? Scream? Throw your wine at him as a distraction? This man, while he hasn’t intimidated you physically, he’s loud and clear with his intentions. 

“Hi! Welcome to Effie’s. I’m Alannah. Can I start you off with any drinks?”

Garrett smiles up at the young girl sweetly, opening his mouth to speak. You decide to play it cool for another few minutes to minimize the risk of retaliation.

“I’ll have an iced coffee — black. and the lady will have a green tea with lemon.”

You scowl, as if you’re more concerned about what he ordered for you than the fact that you feel threatened by his presence all together. Luckily, you still had your glass of wine from when you thought you would find mystery man. 

“Great, I’ll be right back. Let me know if you have any questions about the menu,” Alannah smiles at both of you before spinning on her heel, ponytail flinging over her shoulder. 

Your jaw is tight, unwilling to make eye contact with your dining partner. Your heartbeat has steadies out tremendously as more people filter into the café. Remaining casual, you begin to unroll the silverware placed neatly on the teal plate. You place the napkin on your lap, lining up the two forks and knife on the table. 

Garrett has been talking this entire time, unbeknownst to you as you gather the courage to carry out your plan. You smile tightly, nodding to give some semblance that everything this okay. Glancing at your fork, you lock your eyes on his left hand sitting limply on the table, moving every so often as he drones on. 

You send him one last sickeningly sweet smile before grabbing the fork nonchalantly. Twisting it around in your fingers, you inhale deeply and swiftly sink the salad fork into the flesh of his hand and shoot out of your chair, purse in hand. The chair scoots across the floor and ultimately tumbles to the side of you bringing on some stares from other diners. Alannah screams, dropping the drinks and covering her mouth, staring at the fork sticking out of his forehand. Adrenaline pumping through your blood stream, you waste no time taking your platform sandals off and making a run for it. Disgusting New York City streets be damned.

Garrett is red in the face, gritting his teeth as he screams after you, a death grip on his now injured hand. Diners and workers of the café gather around him, giving you an extra few seconds to escape. 

Flying down 96th street, you expertly weave through the Upper West Side lunch crowd, feeling every wad of gum and broken beer bottle under your feet. Eventually, as your adrenaline-induced track meet is quickly dying out, so you stop on the corner between the flower shop and laundromat. 

The street looks familiar. The bodega with the yellow awning illuminated by the red ‘Bar’ sign to its right.  The sounds of the city are drowned out by your heavy breathing, but you’re certain your heart stops beating for a moment.

Mick’s Bar.

Look at it this way — a full circle moment. You can wash away the utter shit show of a day and raise one last glass to close the chapter of pining over the mystery man. Somber mood and slightly sweating, you bow your head and head down the clump of 3 steps to the street-level establishment. 

The smell of stale beer and popcorn infiltrate your senses, sending you straight back to that night. Retracing your steps to the end stool, you sigh, pulling it toward you with your still bare feet. You’ll find a way to soak them in acid later.

The same bartender acknowledges you, most likely not even remembering your previous interactions. You're glad he doesn’t think you’re some pathetic woman trying to chase after a man. You are, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

The barman places a coaster in front of you, silently waiting for your order. 

“Gin and tonic, please. A double. With lime.” 

He nods, ducking down to tend to his well, filling up a pint glass with ice and heavy-pouring the gin. You sigh again, gently grabbing the back of your neck and rubbing the muscle, willing away the inevitable tension headache coming later. 

There aren’t many people in here; Just a few couriers and other non-office workers. You’re slightly envious of them being able to spend their days outside of a beige and cold office building. Quiet chatter amongst them stops when the bell chimes above the door. 

Like straight out of a movie, Biker man stumbles through the door, his leather vest swiping the handle of the door. The bartender snickers and shakes his head as he pushes your drink towards you, indicating he wants your credit card. You nod, handing over your MasterCard, expecting no other interactions in return. 

He looks at Biker man. Then you. Then back to Biker man, nodding his head knowingly. You’re not sure what this means, but you're trying to erase the last 2 hours from your memory.

Biker man’s thick, heavy boots thunder across the wood plank floors, sending the rickety stools into a rattling chorus of squeaks. He coughs up what sounds like a lung and waits for his beer, not even acknowledging the bartender. He’s now a stool over from you, staring at the screen portraying some sort of horse race. 

Taking one long gulp of your drink, you turn to face him, the liquid courage hitting you immediately. 

“Sir? Hi, I’m so sorry to interrupt. I’m not sure if you remember me—” you trail off when he doesn’t even face you, his salt and pepper beard making it hard to read his face.

Waving slightly, you confirm you’re in fact talking to him, so now his bloodshot eyes make contact with yours over the frame of his sunglasses. 

“I, um, I was here with a few of my girlfriends, um, the other night. A-and I met a man—”

“Tall fella? Came in with a group of guys and they drug one out of here like a corpse?”

“Yes! Yes, oh my goodness, I can’t believe you remember.”

“My bar sweetie, I need to remember who comes in.”

“You’re Mick?” you choke out in disbelief. You want to laugh, because the imaginary life you made up for biker man did not live up to reality.

For your whole life, you tended to grasp onto little moments with strangers that others wouldn’t think twice about.

You still remember the Walmart greeter that waited with you until your mom came back to get you. You remember your sixth grade bus driver who pulled you aside to give you a pep talk when the older girls picked on you. You remember the woman next to you on a plane who held your hand during turbulence. You grow attached, dreaming up scenarios that are probably so far from the truth. It's harmless fun for you.

It’s why you’re clinging onto your mystery man. There are alarm bells going off in your brain you've never felt before, refusing to let it be a fleeting moment. 

“I’ve owned this place for 35 years. Seen everything you can imagine happen here. Celebrations of life, death, marriage. Lots of heartbreak.”

You’re not sure if you’re too tipsy, but his words make you want to cry. What is he trying to say?

“Teddy, two rounds here, please,” Mick signals the barman who promptly whips up four… lemon drop shots? Biker man — Mick— didn’t strike you as the type to take shots like a sorority girl.

He shrugs, pushing two shots over to you. You clink your tiny shot glasses together, tossing your head back and licking the sugar on the rim. 

Both of you push your glasses toward Teddy and reach for the second, as the bell jingles above the door. With the bar being street level, the sun reflects off the cars outside, slightly blinding you as someone walks in, footsteps thumping.

You and Mick continue on, throwing back your next shot. You wince, this one slightly more lemony than the previous. Mick exhales loudly, shaking his head.

“Careful, Chickie. It’s too early to be having this much fun.”

You freeze, unwilling to believe this is happening. It has to be an alcohol induced hallucination.

“Uhm, ah, hi,” you stutter, looking between the three men staring at you. You feel like you’re on an episode of Maury. 

“Sweetheart, he’s been in here every day at the same time to ask Teddy if you’ve stopped in to try and find him, too. The shots were just to ease your anxiety since I knew he’d be in on his lunch hour.”

Due to a short circuit in your brain, you can’t decide who you’re more mad at — Mick, or Teddy. They could’ve told you mystery man has been searching for you, too.

The mystery man blushes, sticking his hands in the pockets of his pleated khakis, staring down at his worn Dockers loafers. His striped rugby shirt reminds you of Steve from Blue’s Clues, but you're willing to over look that.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Teddy smiles gently, ushering Mick to the office. 

The man sits on the stool previously occupied by Mick, and as he sits, he uses his ankle to pull your stool closer to him.

“I’m Harry. Nice to officially meet you,” he smiles, making two dimples you didn’t previously notice appear. 

“Chick—Y/N. I’m Y/N,” you giddily grab his massive hand, shaking it gently.

He sighs, taking a swig of his Budweiser, “So, let’s get this out in the open. How pathetic am I for coming back here every day for a week straight to ask about you?” 

Cackling softly, you shake your head, ducking down to retrieve your bag from the hook under the bar. You pull out your copy of A Beautiful Mind, pulling the slip of paper out from the slightly worn pages. 

“Not as pathetic as this,” You hand it to him, waiting for him to open it. “You ever read the Missed Connections ads on Craigslist?”

Harry smiles, reading the ad. He’s glad you remember the small details of that night like he does. He’s not making it up in his head. 

“I don’t have a computer. But, they usually print these in the Times on Sundays. I would’ve seen it, but about a week late,” he giggles, his green eyes meeting yours when he looks up. 

“Well, I’m glad this nightmare has a happy ending. I went to the café, and a random man showed up pretending he was you! I ran out of there so fast. I’m scared to think about what would’ve happened if I stayed.”

Harry grabs your lower back, the light touch comforting you as you recount the horrors.

“Chickie, I’m so sorry that happened. The internet is scary. I’m honestly terrified of what it’ll be like in 30 years.”

“And to make it worse, he called me Ladybug. Ladybug! I’m clearly a Chickie,” you giggle. “I’ve been dying to hear another one of your terrible jokes.”

Instead of opening his mouth, he leans in to place a chaste kiss on your dried lips. 

The alcohol is hitting you much harder than it should be, so you kiss back, forgetting about the entire audience in the bar. You can’t even begin to care that you’ll be two hours late returning to work, drunk as a skunk.

You’ll blame it on fate.

~ New York City, 2000

“I wish I could travel back in time to prevent us from signing a lease on a 5th floor walk-up,” you sigh, plopping down with your boyfriend on the red bean bag he got from Sears. He’s out of breath, having just carried up 3 boxes while you followed behind him clutching lamps, hangers and basically anything you could get your small hands on.

Harry kisses your slightly sweaty hair, petting any of the strays out of your eyes.

“You’ll have a really toned butt by Christmas. Not a bad investment on my end,” Harry laughs as he dodges your sharp elbow digging into his side.

“I can’t even fathom getting groceries and making dinner. Okay if we order in?”

“You don’t want to meet our new bodega guy?”

“He’ll see me at my worst soon enough. Let’s leave him wondering a little longer. I do love a bacon, egg and cheese on a bagel when I’m hungover,” you giggle, inhaling Harry’s natural scent. If you weren’t so exhausted, you’d hop into bed (your bare mattress on the floor of your 800 square foot apartment) right now. 

“Sure, baby. We can order in,” he pats your thigh, signaling you to let him stand up. He stretches, examining the room.

His heart swells at the perfect mix of the two of of you in your first apartment together. Your excessive shoe collection. His beloved Gibson guitar that he serenaded you with your favorite song on one of your early dates. He sang Lady by the Styx, not realizing you meant Lady by the Commodores. But, you didn’t have the heart to tell him until your first anniversary. 

Now you’re here, two years later and stronger than ever. He spots a film strip hanging on the fridge from Marcie’s wedding. You hogged the booth for well over 15 minutes, kissing, touching, exploring.

You begged for a plus one at the last second, forcing her to tell her uncle he can’t bring a date. Neither of you feel bad. Next to that film strip is the photo Christina took of the two of you the night you met, held up by a Mick's Bar magnet. She didn't get the film developed until weeks after the bachelorette.

The photo would've helped your search efforts!

The empty walls are begging to be filled with canvases, knick knacks and music posters. You learned Harry works at a music recording studio as a fill-in guitarist and a part-time artist. His art style itches something in your brain you can’t describe — falling in love with every piece he comes home with. 

The boxes will consume you for a few weeks, but he’s excited to be taking this next step with you. 

Harry tosses the Sunday Times at you, “Why don’t you read me the missed connections from this week while I put some stuff away. You did a lot to organize the closet this morning, so I don’t want you to move for the rest of the night.”

Harry putters with the dishes, praying they’re clean enough to go in the cupboard. He's haphazardly putting things away, trying to calm his nerves.

“Ooh, yes. I missed last week,” you flip to the section, adjusting the paper in your hands so you can see better. Clearing your throat, you read aloud.

“I was reading a book on the Q train, you were the cute woman sitting next to whom I assume was your mom, but you get kept sending glances my way when she wasn’t looking. I get it, no matter what your age, it’s weird to flirt with your mom next to you. I got off at Atlantic and you shot me a smile. Dunno why I’m even posting here lol almost zero chance of you seeing this. Oh well, gotta try at least.”

Harry smiles, glancing at you as you peruse the page. He can’t pretend to be busy for much longer. You giggle before starting the next one.

“Did you lose an entire ham? It's a bone-in ham, not sure it's obvious from the photo. It's been eaten on some parts, but there's definitely some serious meat left on it. Looks like it was pretty tasty in its day.”

He laughs, his leg anxiously bouncing against the lower cabinet. He leans on the counter for support, gently swiping over his sweat pant pocket. Closing his eyes, he waits.

Scanning the page, you gasp.

You drop the paper in your lap, watching your boyfriend leave your tiny kitchen with the black and white checker floor tile to kneel in front of you on your ratty bean bag chair. Your hands cover your mouth as some tears threaten to spill over your eyes. It’s like everything is in slow motion. 

Harry’s tearing up, too, as he pulls a velvet box from his pocket, opening it slowly to reveal an emerald cut diamond ring on a simple gold band. Elegant and timeless, like you.

He swallows thickly, finding the courage to speak.

“I could’ve gone on and on in the ad, but I figured I’d save it for now,” he laughs nervously. You still have your hands in front of your face, scared to move them in case this is a dream.

“Since the night we met, I knew we were meant for each other. I haven’t had many moments in life where I’ve made the right decision, but I can say with my whole heart that I love you and want you to be my wife.”

You sob slightly, still donning a wide grin. You let him finish.

“I would’ve married you the day we found each other again at Mick’s. But, I didn’t want to scare you,” he laughs again, a small tear escaping.

“Chickie, will you marry me?”

“Oh, Harry,” you blubber, jumping to your knees to wrap your arms around his neck. “Of course! Yes, yes, please.”

Pushing him to the ground, you lay across him, peppering kisses on his face and neck.

When you’ve both calmed down, you’re laying in between his legs, leaned back against the bean bag, basking in the moment. You haven’t even called any friends or family, yet. There’s an uncorked bottle of wine on the floor that you’ve been taking swigs of, absolutely over the moon and tipsy.

"Why did you let me read the one about a ham before asking me the most important question of your life?"

He kisses you to shut you up. You sigh contently, thinking about your future.

After some silence, Harry quietly asks, “Do you think we can force Mick to become an ordained minister?”

You cackle, turning your head to look back at him.

“That was the first thing that came to my mind.”

________________

EEEEEE! I HOPE YOU LIKED IT :))))))) IT WAS SO FUN TO WRITE ABOUT OLD REFERENCES EVEN THO I WAS A BB DURING THAT TIME

Pls let me know what you think <3

ALSO BIKER MAN IS THE REAL MVP I WAS SO HYPE TO KEEP REFERENCING HIM LOL

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

please write some conrad fics, the tag has been DRY

Is there a Aaron Dessner that has produced that is not heartbreaking? The Great war, Tolerate it, Right where you left me, You’re losing me, Would’ve could’ve should’ve. I have nothing against Jack, but when Aaron is involved, things…hit different.  

The acronym switching from love of my life to loss of my life *UGLY CRYING*

Warnings: heartbreak

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When coming to Cousins for Belly and Jeremiah’s wedding, you knew it would be impossible to go through a whole weekend of wedding festivities without speaking to Conrad. You tried to avoid him, but he was always right there. In the kitchen talking with Laurel. In the living room with Jeremiah and Belly. In the backyard with Steven helping set up the chairs and tables under Taylor’s instructions. 

At least he didn’t come to the wedding with a girl. It would have hurt too much.

‘’I can’t believe our Belly is getting married,’’ you said as you all sat in the living room for the smallest bachelorette party. 

There was no male stripper dancing or crazy alcohol consumption like you see in movies. Just matching pajamas, a plastic ‘bride’ crown Anika got online, and sparkling mocktails. Laurel felt out of place among the younger girls, but it was her daughter’s bachelorette. She couldn’t not be there.

Taylor took a cupcake from the table, all decorated to perfection by you. ‘’I would have never guessed she would be the first of us to marry. We all thought it would be you and Con—’’ She stopped herself when she saw Belly looking at you, realizing that if she finished her sentence it would hurt you. 

A silence fell and a lump settled in your throat. You brought your drink to your lips, wishing there was alcohol in it. Drowning your sorrows in alcohol is not the solution, but it’s good at temporarily numbing the pain.

I thought that too.

Your parents bought their holiday house in Cousins where you were ten and you had known the Fishers and the Conklins since. Susannah had invited you over to play with her kids — to make friends. Although you were closer to Jeremiah and Belly in age, it was Conrad who got along with you the best. He taught you how to play Uno, came to get you when you swam too far at the beach and helped you clean your dress when stained it eating a blue popsicle. He was always nice to you. Patient and caring. As you got older, he was only looking at you. Everyone noticed, but no one said anything. He’s just always been yours. 

Until he wasn’t. 

You didn’t want to sour the ambiance or steal the attention from the bride-to-be, so you got up and excused yourself to the bathroom. You closed the door, feeling the quiet sanctuary of solitude envelop you. Memories of you and Conrad flooded your mind, each more painful than its predecessor. Nothing would ever compare to the pain this breakup felt. 

Leaning against the sink, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, tears welling up and blurring your vision. You tried to make them go away by fanning your eyes, but they overflowed, carrying with them the weight of five years of heartache.

How could it still hurt after all this time?

With trembling hands, you reached for a tissue, dabbing at your eyes, but the tears kept coming. ‘’Please, stop.’’ 

In the morning, you woke up on a blow-up mattress in Belly’s room. Your eyes were sensitive from crying and red. You tried to cover it with eye-drops and makeup, but when you came down for breakfast and Belly pulled you in a tight hug, you knew you didn’t do a great job. 

Jeremiah eyed the two of you, raising an eyebrow and silently asking what was up, but Belly shook her head. 

The rest of the day went without any downpour of tears. A part of the afternoon was spent tanning under the sun and drinking lemonades, relishing in the last moments of tranquility before the evening's rehearsal dinner. The place was going to get filled with family members and other guests soon and it’ll get very crowded. 

Steven joined you in Belly’s bedroom as you were getting ready for dinner, still wet from being at the beach with the boys. He tried to get a kiss from Taylor, but she pushed him off as he was dripping water all over her makeup bag. Jeremiah laughed in the doorway, blowing a kiss to Belly before parting to his own bedroom to change. 

Although you weren’t the only single person in the room, you never felt more alone.  

At the dinner, you sat listening to the speeches about Belly and Jeremiah’s love. Without surprise, Steve made sure to embarrass the couple and Laurel was unable to hold back her tears when her turn came. Childhood stories and teenage anecdotes about their early moments of relationship made the guests laugh and smile. 

Everything seemed to be going smoothly until Adam inadvertently attributed a story to Belly and Jeremiah, when in fact it was about you and Conrad. The frown on Jeremiah’s forehead as his father continued to speak matched Belly, both of them not knowing what he was talking about. 

‘’Eh, Dad, Belly didn’t come to my prom…’’ Jeremiah whispered to his father. ‘’I went to hers and she was wearing a purple dress, not green.’’ 

Adam paused, his realization dawning slowly. ‘’Oh. You’re right. That was Conrad. I caught him and his girl making out outside the house when they came back. Susannah was out of her mind for allowing her to sleep over…’’  

The revelation hung in the air, accompanied by an uncomfortable silence. Your grip on the glass of wine tightened involuntarily, the pressure causing it to shatter in your hand. Shards of glass cut into your skin as crimson droplets mixed with the spilled wine. 

Beside you, Taylor gasped in concern, her eyes widening at the sight. ‘’Oh my god, are you—’’ 

Ignoring the sting of pain and Taylor’s voice, you excused yourself and hurried inside to tend to your injury. You grabbed some paper towels and pressed them over your cuts. 

Unbeknownst to you, Conrad followed after you. As you stood there, watching the white soak and turn red, you felt his presence behind you. ‘’Don’t do that.’’ His touch was gentle as he took your hand and removed the soiled paper towels, placing them on the counter. ‘’Never apply pressure to an injury that’s not clean of debris. You’ll push them further in,’’ he advised, the doctor in him speaking. ‘’Let me see.’’ 

‘’I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,’’ you insisted, attempting to brush off his concern. ‘’Go back to everyone else, it’s almost time for the best man’s speech.’’ 

But Conrad didn’t budge. ‘’Sit here. I need to check if there’s glass in it.’’ he urged, his tone firm yet caring. 

Knowing there was no way out of this, you sat on one of the kitchen stools and let Conrad check your injury. He turned on the kitchen tap and you hissed as the water hit your freshly cut skin, the cool liquid soothing the sharp ache. 

You sat there as Conrad tended to your wound in silence, his fingers gentle as he inspected your hand for any embedded glass fragments. You couldn't help but notice the warmth of his touch and the upgraded woodsy cologne, their familiarity causing your heart to flutter despite the pain. 

His focus was entirely on your hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. It reminded you of that one time you fell from your bike and he patched up your knee and elbow. Once he made sure there was no glass in it, he went to fetch an antiseptic and gauze from the bathroom.  

As he was wrapping it up, you thanked him. A simple ‘thanks’. 

‘’Be careful drinking wine, next time.’’ Conrad meant it as a light teasing, but you weren’t in a mood to laugh.

‘’Don’t say anything. Please,’’ you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. ‘’It hurts seeing you — it really hurts. So much that I didn’t want to come to the wedding, but I couldn’t miss Belly’s big day. I couldn’t do that to her. What type of friend would I be?’’ The weight of your words hung heavy in the air between you, the truth of them echoing in the silence of the room. ‘’But being here, watching her and Jeremiah getting married is killing me because that should have been us,’’ you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. ‘’This house is where we met; every corner holds tons of memories of us and it’s haunting me, torturing me since I got here.’’

‘’I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry—’’ 

‘’You’re sorry? No sorry will be enough,’’ you said. ‘’You told me I'm the love of your life about a million times. You said you would never leave. But you did. I loved you so much— You were it for me, Conrad. It was always you. But now you’re the loss of my life.’’ 

He said your name, but once again, you didn’t let him speak. 

You got down from the stool, the stinging pain in your hand still present. ‘’I should get back outside. Hopefully Laurel knows a way to get blood out of my dress.’’

—

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[grey342]

Hii! I’m so glad to see someone currently writing bradley cooper fics because honestly PHIL CAN GET IT. i wanted to request maybe a jealous!phil where reader goes on a friends bachelors trip and knowing Phil’s past he gets all angsty, as smutty as you’d like :) honestly anything you’d write id love!!

Don't leave me

Jealous! Phil x reader

synopsis - Phil's girlfriend goes on a trip for a bachelorette party and he's not happy about it.

warnings - MDNI 18+ content, Phil being dramatic, Phil being jealous (Obv), lingerie, slight handjob, P in V, riding and praise.

authors note - Thank you so much for this request and the sweet compliment! I gotta be honest i'm not a huge fan of angst so I made Phil a lil more dramatic and kinda sassy. I still hope you like it :)

please do not steal my work - belongs to @grey342

This man is gonna be the death of me.

The main thought running through your head whilst packing. His remarks and whines can be heard from the next room.

Your close friend was having her bachelorette party this weekend but, she also wanted to spend a couple of days with the bridal party before her wedding. So you all decided to spend a long weekend in Vegas. And Phil is not happy about it.

"I mean, I don't get why you have to go," you roll your eyes at him, "it's not like she's your best friend."

"Oh yeah? And who is?" You retaliate, smirking.

"Me." He scoffs, as if this is obvious information, walking into the room. You take one look at him and start laughing.

You're not stupid, you kind of guessed why he was so mad about you going but now. He's made it really clear for you.

"What's so fucking funny?" He says confused, placing his hands on his hips. A gesture you would usually find attractive but right now, it's making you laugh even harder.

"I just, uh, I can't believe it," you say in between wheezes, " I mean. I had an idea but now it's so obvious." You quietly chuckle.

"What? What is? You're not making any sense." He declares, clearly getting frustrated. After calming yourself down you finally say-

"You're jealous." Apparently, it's now his turn to burst out laughing.

"What? Where the fuck did you get that idea?" He managed in between laughs.

"You're jealous. You're so insistent on me not going, you're trying to tell me all the bad things about the girls. I mean you literally just said "she's not your best friend, I am." You're SO jealous." You clarify.

He's silent just staring at you. You can see the clogs turning in his head to try and come up with a good response. You swear you can see the light bulb appear on top of his head.

"You're just saying that to make yourself feel better about leaving me. For a whole weekend might I add." He says almost sassily and walks out of the room. Clearly proud of himself.

"Sweetie," you sigh, "it's only three days. I'll be back before you know it. We can text throughout the day and call every night." You try to deal.

"Or I have a better idea... don't go and we can talk all day and all night. Face to face."

You groan in frustration. You cannot believe this is the type of conversation you were having with your grown ass boyfriend. Pick the sassy men they said. You internally roll your eyes.

You walk into the living room to see him practically pouting on the couch. Scoffing, you go to walk away when an idea pops into your head.

"Hey Phil, if you stop complaining right now you can have your present early." He looks at you confused.

"What the fuck do you mean "present"?"

"Well since you are so predictable," you emphasise the last word, " I knew you would act like this when I said i'm going on a trip. So, I bought you something as a "sorry for leaving you, you big baby" gift."

"You did?" You can see the glint of excitement in his eyes.

"Yes my little princess but, clearly you are a lot more upset than I anticipated so i'm willing to give it to you early. If you want it that is." You wager. There's a long pause where he's weighing out his options.

"Okay," he clasps his hand together, " I have decided that I would like my present early. BUT I still want one for when you come back." He leans back on the couch, glowing with pride.

"Fine. I'll be right back." He rubs his hand together in anticipation as you leave the room.

Moments later you're shouting down the hall, "close your damn eyes." He grunts in disapproval.

"Okay and open." He does and your met with a groan that also sound like a moan.

"Oh baby." You're stood in front of him in a lingerie set, barely covering anything. Plus it's in his favourite colour.

"Am I forgiven?" You say, moving down to straddle his lap.

"Yes. A million times yes." He exclaims instantaneously as you giggle.

His mouth meets yours passionately, with your teeth and tongues clashing. His hands make their way down to your ass and yours to his chest. Pushing him lightly so his back meets the couch.

His slowly starts to kiss your jaw, then down your neck and finally the top of your chest. He looks up at you, almost pleading, and you give him a look of approval. His hands move around your back to unclasp your bra.

He slides it off at an agonisingly slow pace. When the bra is fully off he stares at your chest in awe. He moves his head down taking one nipple in the mouth and groping the other. You let out a content sigh.

He switches over, repeating the same process as you began to rock slowly, back and forth, on his lap. His moans vibrate on your chest as your breaths turn into pants.

You reach down in between you and start pulling at the waistband of his grey sweatpants, indicating you want them off. He knows what you want and immediately begins to pull them down. You look down and eagerly take him in your hand. You swipe your thumb over the tip and began pumping up and down.

"Fuck.." He groans. You push your panties over to the side and slide onto him. Both of you moaning in unison. You'll never get used to the way he feels, filling you up perfectly.

Once you're both ready, you begin to move back and forth, riding him. His hands take sanctuary on your hips, slowly guiding you. You lean down, placing your mouth on his, capturing his groans in your mouth.

"You're doing so good. Riding my dick so well baby, my good girl." He says against your mouth. He reaches down and starts to rub slow circles on your clit. You whimper at the contact.

"Oh fuck, do that again." Obeying his orders you do it again. He uses his other hand to begin assisting you in bouncing up and down. Your movements begin to change pace, going faster.

His groans and your whimpers becoming louder. He dick twitching inside of you, indicating he's close. You ride faster and bounce harder. He in turn, quickens his movements on your clit and his fingers dig into your hips, leaving bruises for later.

"Oh shit, Phil.. I'm close."

"I know honey, I know hold on a lil longer." He pants. Your cries being the response. Your head thrown back, eyes screw shut.

"Hey, look at me. I wan't you to look at me when you cum." He demands. You immediately open your eyes and stare into his. His gaze possessive.

"Oh fuck, Phil." You whine.

"Let go baby, give it to me." That send you over the edge. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the pleasure taking over and your body began to shake.

"Oh shit, oh shit." He says as he fills you up, head resting in the crook of your neck.

Coming down from your highs, he lifts his head and smiles at you.

"What?"

"You're so beautiful." He places a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Mhm, i'm still going." You stand up and start walking towards the bedroom.

"Ah! Come on honey, i'm the love of your life! You can't leave me!" He calls out, following you.

[callalillywrites]

Bucky’s Best Man

This whole fic came about from this question posed by the fabulous @navybrat817. While I still stand behind the choices I gave originally, I'm currently sitting in an age of pre-serum Steve feels. Thus, the reason this story came to be.

Pairing: Modern Day!Pre-serum Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: ~3800

Summary: Nat and Bucky decide to set up their two best friends by making them their best man and maid of honor. It's not until their wedding that you two officially meet.

Warnings: mostly fluff, some insecurity on Steve's part, flustered Steve and reader at various parts

A/N: This is all written in a practical fever dream of fluff. Hopefully, it's still coherent. It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

“Someone’s smiling pretty hard over there,” Nat teased. Her glass barely hid her smile as she nodded toward your phone. “Who’s the lucky guy that’s gotten you to smile like that? It’s been a while since you’ve smiled like this. It’s nice.”

Your cheeks heated, but you didn’t attempt to lie as you said, “Bucky’s friend.”

“Oh, you mean, his best man, Steve. That friend, right?” Nat asked, leaning forward. You definitely had her attention then. “When did this come about?”

You let out a giggle, shaking your head at her. “You gave him my number, remember? What do you mean when did this come about? You made it pretty clear that he and I would be working together to give you and Bucky the best wedding.”

“And what are we thinking about him, hm? I could guess by your smile, but I want to hear all the juicy details. So spill already.”

Over the next few minutes, you told her everything you knew about Steve from your texts and phone calls. He’d been so sweet at first, asking advice on how to handle his duties as a best man. That didn’t stop him from also checking in with you about handling all your duties as maid-of-honor. The thought he wanted to help you if he could or at least hear you vent had really helped you over the past few months.

It wasn’t like Nat was a bridezilla or anything. Far from it, but you had found some of your duties bothersome. The florist had tried to price gouge them despite the simple designs and few pieces needed to set up the reception’s venue. Then, there’d been the logistics of getting all the girls of the wedding party and other friends of Nat’s together for her bachelorette party a week ago.

Steve had listened to it all, never trying to step in and fix it. You could tell the urge was there based on the way his voice changed over the phone. But he didn’t. He just let you vent and offered you what comfort he could through the phone.

You’d done the same when he called about figuring out what to do for Bucky’s bachelor party. Most of the ideas he could find online didn’t sound all that appealing to him or Bucky, but he’d wanted to give Bucky that right of passage before the wedding. It’d been you to suggest a weekend camping trip or something a bit sportier for Bucky and his Howler friends.

The sweet relief in Steve’s tone had sent the butterflies fluttering in your middle. Oh, you liked how much he could affect you, and you’d yet to meet him face-to-face.

Every time you tried to set that up, something would come up.

It never dawned on you that other powers worked against you and Steve meeting up before the wedding.

By the end of your tale, Nat sank back into her seat with a pleased expression of her own. Without a hint of reservation, she declared, “You’re falling in love with Steve, aren’t you?”

You shook your head.

The thought was impossible, but then again, was it really?

Sure, you hadn’t seen what he looked like, but then, looks had never truly impressed you. Well, that wasn’t the whole truth, either. You didn’t care for some of the more conventional looks that deemed someone attractive. No, you looked for things about a person that others might not necessarily notice at first.

With Steve, you didn’t have to know what he looked like to know that he was your type. He had a subtler sense of humor though he had some sassier moments with you at times. His voice never failed to soothe away the roughness of a day whenever you talked. The way he texted might be a bit on the old-fashioned side, but he never left you in doubt about the tone of his words. He always liked to be crystal clear, so no misunderstandings happened, possibly hurting your feelings or souring your mood.

At last, you admitted, “I don’t know. Maybe. He’s not like anyone I’ve dated before, and we’re not even dating. I mean, I don’t even know if he likes me as anything more than an acquaintance helping him out.”

“You know,” Nat paused long enough to ensure she had your attention, “I could always ask Bucky if Steve talks about you. Then, you’d know one way or another.”

“No, please don’t. I can wait until your wedding to learn one way or another. Just a few more days, right?”

Nat nodded, her smile softening with fondness. No doubt her mind drifted to thoughts of Bucky while she played with the engagement ring on her finger. It gleamed in the sunlight. It took her a moment to come back to you. “Sorry. Yeah, a few more days. Who knows? Maybe it won’t be long before we’re planning a wedding for you and Steve if you two hit it off.”

“Maybe we should just wait and see how our first face-to-face goes,” you said, laughing and holding up your hands. “No sense getting ahead of ourselves. Steve and I should probably try being friends first before we jump to the idea of dating, let alone marriage.”

“You change your mind before Saturday, let me know.”

*****

You didn’t change your mind.

Saturday rolled around, bright and clear. A beautiful day for the wedding of your best friend and her fiancé.

You, Nat, and the other ladies headed to the wedding’s venue early. The limo Nat rented nearly burst at the seams between dresses, ladies, makeup bags, and everything else you might need. Not that the tight squeeze bothered any of you as you talked and joked on your way.

The venue’s director had almost everything complete by your arrival, which made it easier for you all to dash into the bridal suite.

While the ladies quickly changed into their gowns, you took charge of working on their hair and makeup, starting with Nat.

You were making decent progress until a commotion from the main area grabbed your attention.

“Excuse me,” you said and hurried from the room.

You’d taken one step into the main area when something small but solid slammed into you. Your arms flailed to keep you upright, but it wasn’t in your cards to stay on your feet. A hard smack to your behind was your reward for your spectacular failure to save yourself.

“Ow.” You winced when you shifted to get up.

“Wow, we’re so sorry,” one of Bucky’s Howler friends said. His hand stretched out between you, his face pulling tight with concern and contrition. “We didn’t see you there.”

“Obviously.” You chuckled, hoping it would help lessen their guilt for knocking you over. “Nothing’s broken at least, so no harm done.”

Back on your feet, you spared the man who’d knocked you over with what appeared to be a small barrel of something. The man sported a thick mustache across his lip, which he gnawed at without seeming to realize it as he watched you and what you might do next.

“Dum Dum, you better not hurt my girl’s best friend. She will whoop you,” Bucky called, coming closer to the two of you as you continued to swipe at the invisible dust covering your bottom. His voice softened as he asked, “You okay, Sweets?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Go help Steve finish unloading the truck, Dugan. I’m going to escort this beautiful lady back to the bridal suite.”

The mischievous gleam that entered Bucky’s gaze had you holding up your hands. You bit back your laughter at how fast his face shifted into a pout, knowing he’d been thwarted. “I’m fine to get back on my own. You know full well you’re not seeing the bride until the ceremony. So, get your butt in the groom’s suite and start getting ready. Got that, mister?”

“People should call you Sergeant Sweets,” he quipped though he did as you bid.

You simply shook your head at him.

It was only as you were turning to head back that you caught sight of the figure standing in the doorway leading to the parking lot. At first, you might’ve mistook the man standing there for a teenager, but you soon dismissed the notion. His bearing spoke of years beyond what his silhouette implied.

When he stepped further into the venue’s main area, your breath caught.

This man might be slight of stature, but he was no less handsome. His blonde hair had a bit of length that called you to comb your fingers through it, just to see if you could muss it. His cheeks held a bit of stubble while his hands had smudges of what might be pencil dust or charcoal. You couldn’t be sure.

It was his eyes that really caught your attention when he got close enough. Not only did the blueness of his eyes draw you in until you could make out the smallest flecks of green. His long eyelashes called to you, whispering promises of butterfly kisses. Oh, you always loved the thought of butterfly kisses coming from the one you loved and truly loved you in return.

Hoping your staring hadn’t put him off, you offered him a warm smile and a tiny wave.

He mimicked your motions though his cheeks tinted with a lovely shade of pink.

Before you could say anything, one of the bridesmaids came and pulled you urgently back to the bridal suite.

You could only hope that you would see the handsome guy again. Getting his name would be your main mission if you got a second chance.

*****

There was no way for you to know that the guy you’d seen grew preoccupied with thoughts of you while slowly getting ready in the groom’s suite.

He’d known you would be there. You were the maid of honor, but nothing could’ve prepared him for that first sight of you.

Your laugh had been the first thing he’d heard as he neared the venue’s front doors. It drew him in as much as it did during your rather frequent phone calls together. He wanted to hear it and often. It wasn’t unheard of for him to try and make you laugh, especially after you vented about your day to him. He needed to hear your laugh to make his days that much brighter.

Then, he’d heard your voice as you spoke with Dum Dum Dugan. To say he was floating would’ve been an understatement. Your voice had been a melody he used to fall asleep for weeks now. He never wanted to not go a day without hearing it. He should’ve felt more like a creep for loving your voice as much as he did.

Oh, man, he wished he’d been better prepared.

A small part of him thrilled at seeing how much Dugan towered over you. Not in a threatening way as Dugan wouldn’t ever, of course. You certainly didn’t seem afraid of Dum Dum though Bucky had quickly intervened to ensure you were okay.

No, it was the fact he could tell that you maybe stood within an inch of his height. You came up to about the same spot he did when standing near Dugan and even Bucky. He wouldn’t have to necessarily worry about you hating him for being too much shorter than you. A fact that had kept him out of the dating scene for a while.

What really sucker-punched him though was your smile.

Oh, to have you smile at him would be…

It would be a dream come true if he were being honest.

He’d fallen for you over the weeks of phone calls and texts. If he could have a slither’s hope of a chance with you, then he would be the world’s happiest guy.

He –

“What’s up with you, punk?” Bucky asked, fixing his tie in the large mirror taking up much of one wall. “You’ve been quiet since you walked in here.”

At first, Steve debated answering, but then decided to speak up. “Do you believe in love at first sight, Buck?”

Bucky’s hands stilled as he turned to face his best friend. A smirk flashed across his face as he asked, “Someone finally caught your attention, huh? Who’s the lucky lady?”

Unknown to Steve, Bucky could only hope Steve had taken one look at you and fallen for you. He’d been working so hard to make sure you two didn’t meet until today with some help from Nat. The two of you hadn’t had much luck in the love department. He’d wanted someone who could love Steve as much as he loved Nat while Nat wanted the same for you. After a little bit of discussion, it dawned on him and Nat that you two might be perfect for each other. Then, the matchmaking began, starting with asking you two to play best man and maid of honor. It ended with this ultimate moment of reveal.

Steve’s soft voice broke through Bucky’s thoughts as he said your name.

“I don’t even know if she’s interested in me, Buck. I’m not what most women want. Why would she be any different? As much as I might want her to be, it would be stupid to get my hopes up, right?”

“You think the woman you’ve been texting and talking to almost every night is going to care what you look like? Did she ever give you any indication that she’d care?”

Steve frowned at that, then shook his head. “No, but come on, Buck. This isn’t a fairy tale we’re living in. I’m not exactly meant to win the heart of a princess.”

“Listen to me, punk,” Bucky dropped his hands on top of Steve’s shoulders, “Sweets is the kind of woman to see into a guy’s heart and judge him based on his character, not for the way he looks. I can guarantee she’ll give you a chance if you have the courage to ask for it. Promise me you’ll take that chance with her.”

As much as Steve wanted to drop this discussion entirely, he opened the door. There would be no shutting it now that Bucky had stepped in and insisted on a promise from him.

At last, he nodded. “Fine. I’ll ask her. If she says no, then you’re going to buy me several rounds once you’re back from your honeymoon. Got it, jerk?”

“If she turns you down, I’ll buy you a whole bar.” Bucky grinned before going back to work on getting ready. His gaze met Steve’s over his shoulder in the mirror. “But I’m confident she’s going to say yes.”

*****

Before you knew it, the ceremony was set to begin.

You managed to stave off the disaster you’d been pulled to handle. Then, you got yourself ready for Nat’s big day, taking special care with your makeup and hair.

Within minutes, you would be walking behind the other bridesmaids with Steve at your side. A part of you really hoped that Steve was the guy you’d seen in the main area before you’d been pulled away. Your luck had never been all that great though.

More likely, he was a guest who’d shown up early or possibly a worker for the venue who’d wandered in. That last option didn’t sound quite so plausible, but you couldn’t be sure. You’d seen several of their employees flitting around both the interior and exterior the few times you’d joined Nat for her meetings with the director.

“Hey, girl, let’s get moving. I’ve got a groom waiting for me,” Nat said, giving you a push toward the door of the bridal suite.

The bridesmaids and flower girl had already left the room, taking up their places.

Nat smirked at you. “The way you’re looking, you’d think you were the nervous bride. Should I be worried about you?”

You quickly shook your head.

“Then, let’s do this. You don’t want to keep Steve waiting any longer than you have to. If you’re not careful, he’s liable to be snapped up by one of the guests, then where will you be?”

A reluctant smile flitted across your lips before you straightened your shoulders and took that first step towards the door.

The hallway wasn’t quite as crowded as you feared it might be. Several of the bridesmaids had already begun their journey down the carpeted path leading to the altar at the front of the venue. Only two stood and waited their turns with their respective groomsman.

A lone figure fidgeted near the split-off for the groom’s suite. The same figure you’d seen earlier.

Hope ignited within you at the sight of him.

His gaze bounced up as you neared him, his eyes widening a bit.

Oh, the blue really did have a bit more green in them than you initially thought they did. So beautiful with the way his suit really made those small flecks stand out.

The smile you gave Nat before leaving the bridal suite returned full force.

“Steve?” you asked softly, hoping not to spook him.

He nodded, saying your name like a question as well.

“It’s nice to finally put a face to your beautiful voice,” you said, your cheeks heating behind your makeup.

The pink you’d seen earlier returned while he ducked his head. You mourned the loss of his eyes though you did get another view of his long, feathered lashes. So, you couldn’t (and wouldn’t) complain.

He finally said, “I feel like I should be the one saying that.”

“You can if you’d like. I certainly won’t stop you.”

To your astonishment, the pink deepened though you caught sight of the upward curve of his mouth. He liked your gentle teasing, or at least, that’s what you hoped. Surely, fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to tease you with this man at your side, only to have him not like you as much as you’d come to like him.

He didn’t get the chance to say anything as you’d reached the end of the aisle. You both took your proper places at the altar with Nat close behind you.

Soon, she stepped up next to you, handing over her bouquet to take Bucky’s hands instead. She shot you a quick wink and a nod at Steve. If she could’ve gotten away with a thumbs up, she probably would’ve done it.

You could only shake your head at her. Amusement rolled through you even as you snuck a few discreet glances in Steve’s direction. Your gazes met as the officiant finally announced Bucky could kiss his bride, declaring them husband and wife.

Steve’s arm came out as Bucky led Nat back down the aisle towards the partitioned area that would also serve as their reception area.

You took it without hesitation, allowing him to take the lead.

While you couldn’t say you weren’t disappointed that you two weren’t assigned seats side by side, you were happy that he wasn’t situated too far from you.

In fact, Bucky and Nat made it a point to stay on the dance floor long after their first dance to give you both a chance to talk. Neither of them missed the way you and Steve looked at one another. They were beyond happy to see the successful results of their matchmaking attempts.

You even managed to get Steve out on the dance floor for a slow dance or two. His two left feet didn’t bother you, working with him to relax enough to enjoy swaying to the music.

Conversation slowly began to flow effortlessly between the two of you as the evening wore on.

The only darkness that loomed over the evening was Steve’s continued failure to ask you out for a real date.

You kept waiting and waiting for him to make a move. Hint after hint, you dropped in the hopes he’d take the initiative.

He never did.

When the reception came to an end, you gave up all hope. Steve simply wasn’t interested while you’d come to realize that you could find yourself really falling for him. If only he’d give you a chance, then you could possibly make him fall for you, too.

Dum Dum came up to Steve after Bucky and Nat drove off, ready to kickstart their wedding night. He offered Steve a ride home, which Steve accepted.

“I had a really nice time,” he said softly, almost shyly.

You couldn’t help the genuine smile that settled over your lips. “I did, too. Not sure I really want the night to end, but I guess it has to.”

“Let’s go, Rogers,” Dum Dum called out.

Steve glanced at the Howler and grimaced. “I guess I should go. Thank you for everything. I get why Bucky calls you Sweets. You’re the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”

“It’s easy with a gentleman like you. If you ever want to talk or something, you can always call,” you said after gathering the last shreds of your courage. This was your last chance, and you wanted to put the ball on his side of the court one final time. “Good night, Steve.”

With a small wave, he turned and started walking towards where Dum Dum waited. He got two whole steps, then he changed course, coming to stand in front of you again.

You could see him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing before he blurted, “Go out with me. I mean, if you want. I, uh, I really like you, Sweets. Maybe if you like me, too, I could take you out sometime.”

Your cheeks hurt with how wide your smile became.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you murmured, then leaned in to press a brief kiss to his cheek. When you pulled back, you added, “I really like you, too, Steve. Call me tomorrow?”

He nodded several times. His voice cracked, raising an octave. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Text me when you get home? I wanna make sure you get there safe.”

“I will. Go before Dum Dum tries to leave without you.”

Steve took off after Dum Dum, who’d threatened to leave him as you said he might.

It wasn’t until he reached the doorway that you called out, “Hey, Steve, do you believe someone could fall in love after a few calls and texts?”

He grinned. “Yeah, I do. I’m pretty sure I did.”

“I’m pretty sure I did, too,” you admitted with a dreamy smile.

*****

Main Masterlist

[the-iceni-bitch]

Always Living in the Final Hour

Summary: Bachelor and bachelorette weekend shenanigans with the (almost) quadrouple.

Words: ~5.5k

Relationship(s): Ransom Drysdale x Ari Levinson, Ransom Drysdale x Ari Levinson x female!reader, Jake Jensen x female!reader (platonic - for now), little peeks at the quadrouple to come y’all.

Warning: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected anal sex, m receiving oral sex, rimming, feminization), established relationships, secrets revealed, mentions of homophobia, misunderstandings, they’re all cute and dumb and in love, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: I love them so much 😭

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my fics follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You grinned when you heard the knock at your hotel room door, finishing putting your earrings in and adjusting your tits in your dress before pulling the door open and beaming at Jake.

“Hey… wow, look at you!” He gave you his own smile when he got a look at you, spinning you around then pulling you into a warm embrace once he’d taken you in. “You look amazing, you’re a fucking bombshell.”

“Shut up, you’re so fucking cute.” You giggled when he kissed you on the cheek, playing with the edge of his shirt and kissing him back before dragging him out the door. “Is everyone ready to go!”

“Yep, just waiting on your fine ass.” Jake laughed and smacked your ass playfully as you made your way to the elevator, giving you a mocking pout when you turned around and slapped his chest in retaliation before chewing on his lip with a bit of residual anxiety. “You’re really sure it’s okay for me to be here? They’re your friends and I’m just… some dude.”

“Yeah, some dude who’s sucked the same dick I have and is a giant sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes and dragged him after you onto the elevator, leaning against his chest and winding your fingers through his affectionately. “Plus, we’re officially besties after that skinny dipping incident.”

“Skinny dipping? I told you, I thought I walked through a spider web!” He tickled you and laughed when you pinched his cheek. “Felt like I had the creepy crawlies all over me. No one made you take your clothes off, weirdo.”

“That’s true, but I love being naked, and don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it!” You let him give you a tight hug and lift you off your feet once the doors opened to the lobby, waving at your group and laughing when they cheered as they spotted you. “So since we’ve seen all of each other, and spilled our guts over wine, and we’re best friends, you have to be at my bachelorette party, no arguments, blondie. Alright bitches! We doing any bars or going straight to the strip clubs?”

“Oh shit, is this what you use to fuel your jet, Levinson?” Ransom coughed after downing the shot Ari had handed him, frowning when the larger man just chuckled around his cigar and reached over to squeeze his thigh. “Is it even safe for me to smoke after drinking that?”

“It’s fine, don’t be a baby.” Ari grinned even wider when Ransom smacked his hand away, waving down the waitress to bring another bourbon for the groom. “Stick to your boring brown liquor, Drysdale. And just one more cigar, think your boys are getting antsy.”

“What? Oh my god.” Ransom rolled his eyes when he he looked towards where the frat boys were gathered, waving dismissively when Logan gestured meaningfully at his watch. “Yeah, go! We’ll meet you there. Ridiculous.”

“Mmhm, well, I think they were planning on there being a lot more strippers by this point.” Ari watched them leave before taking the new drinks from the waitress, giving her a large bill and winking at her when she smiled at him before shrugging when Ransom gave him a look. “What?”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Ransom almost inhaled his scotch when Ari cooed sympathetically and scooted closer to him, letting out a delighted laugh when he placed his hand very high up on his thigh and leaned close to nuzzle at his jaw. “Ari! You’re such a whore!”

“And you’re so jealous, poor baby.” Ari bit Ransom’s ear gently before sliding his hand even higher, squeezing Ransom’s thigh and purring when the man whined and leaned into his touch. “I'm so sorry, pretty boy, you deserve all the attention, you’re getting married after all. Gonna have such a pretty wife to spoil you and treat you nice like you deserve.”

“Fuck, you know how worked up I get when anyone calls her my wife, you teasing bastard.” Ransom downed the rest of his drink and growled before turning to face Ari, practically crawling into the man’s lap when he finally slid his hand up to cup his bulge as he smashed their lips together. “I’m going to marry her, god she’s so fucking perfect.”

“You’re both perfect, shit.” Ari groaned when Ransom rocked his hips and sucked on Ari’s bottom lip, standing quickly and pulling the younger man with him before he had a chance to protest. “Don’t give me that look, I don’t wanna lose my membership to this place just because we’re both sluts. We’re gonna finish in the car.”

“Yeah, that’ll work.” Ransom whined when Ari pressed him against the side of the car and kissed him hungrily, letting him throw him into the backseat once he got the door open and yanking him on top of his body when they started to drive away. “We don’t even have time to do anything.”

“Nonsense, we have plenty of time.” Ari pulled Ransom’s knees around his hips and molded their lips together, humming when he felt his hard cock pressed against his own and ground into him. “We’re both nice and worked up, pretty sure I can get one out of you, you’re easy.”

“‘M not… shit.” Ransom tossed his head back and gasped when Ari pressed into him harder, whimpering when he felt his beard scratching against his throat as he licked that spot that drove him crazy and he rolled his hips up to meet him. “Yeah, okay. Just don’t stop.”

“Mmm, never sweet boy.” Ari sucked on the hinge of Ransom’s jaw and moaned when he felt the other man’s cock twitching through his slacks, increasing the speed of his hips and squeezing Ran’s waist when the man ran his fingers through his hair. “Give it to me, honey, just want you to enjoy your party.”

Ransom sobbed when Ari curled his hand around his neck and squeezed lightly, his body arching off the back seat as he yanked on the older man’s hair while his cock throbbed and pulsed while he came all over the inside of the pretty red panties you’d insisted he wear. He felt Ari’s cock twitching as well and grinned when the other man purred against his neck and licked his throat, at least until he heard the click of a camera shutter and slapped Ari’s shoulders while he laughed softly.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ransom pouted and turned his face away when Ari tried to kiss him again, leaving the man to press his lips to his cheek and huffing when he saw him texting someone. “You sending that to her?”

“She said she wanted regular updates, and I think the first orgasm of the night is something she’d want to know about.” Ari shoved his phone back in his pocket and gripped Ransom’s chin, forcing his gaze back to him and giving him a sly smile as he rubbed their noses together. “Now quit being a brat and kiss me.”

Ransom couldn’t help but giggle when Ari suckled on his bottom lip before sliding his tongue into his mouth, winding his arms around his neck and sighing softly as he melted into the kiss. He had never been happier about his choice for best man, a weekend of sex with Ari interspersed with drinking and smoking and luxury clubs really was the perfect way to celebrate his pending nuptials. There wasn’t a thing he could think of that would ruin his good time, except maybe…

“What took you so…” both of them froze when the door opened and they were suddenly face to face with Logan, Ransom trying to decide between shoving Ari off and denying everything or just burying his face in the bear’s neck to hide. “What in the actual fuck, Drysdale?!”

You screeched happily when Jake whispered a filthy joke in your ear after you pointed out the gorgeous man across the dance floor who had been eyeing him, slapping his chest and biting his ear when he picked you up and spun you around. Once the song was over your whole group made its way back to your booth to do even more shots before heading to the strip club, the rest of the women just rolling their eyes and teasing you every time you and Jake got a little affectionate, mostly because whenever they did he turned absolutely pink and tried to splutter out an explanation, which was completely adorable. They were all totally in love with him, especially after he almost punched some asshole who didn’t want to take the hint that none of you were interested in doing body shots with him when he called you a bunch of drunk cunts. Of course, what actually ended up happening was you all dog piled the douche bag and managed to get in a few good licks before Jake finally pulled all of you off and herded you out of the bar while you screamed obscenities back at the chauvinist that made Jake crack up as soon as he was sure you were all okay, but after that every single one of you was officially in love with him.

“No, I can’t have tequila!” He was all pink again when you rested your head on his shoulder and gave him a messy grin as you held the shot in front of his face. “I really can’t, or I might actually go over there and ask that guy to smack me in the face with his dick.”

“You should, he’s hot!” You squealed and clapped happily when he took the shot from you with a cute little grumble and slammed it down. “C’mon, let’s go hook you up.”

“No, bombshell, no!” He laughed when you pouted at him when he refused to budge, pulling you close and tweaking your nose as he pulled you with the group towards the exit even as he started to feel warm and loose from the tequila. “This is your night, I’m not going to abandon you just to hook up with some, admittedly beautiful, random guy.”

“You’re so sweet, blondie.” You settled in his lap after you all climbed into the limo, letting out a drunk hiccup and walking your fingers across his broad chest with a hum. “I’m gonna find you a boyfriend, though. Gimme my phone, wanna see if my puppy is having a good time.”

Jake rested his cheek on the top of your head and chuckled while you played with his shirt absentmindedly, ignoring the chatter from the rest of the group as he reached into your purse and grabbed your phone. He didn’t mean to look at the screen, he really didn’t, but the picture came up and he couldn’t help it, his face blanching immediately as he slapped the phone down against the seat and tried to avoid looking at you.

“Jakey? What’s up?” You frowned when he just shook his head at you and pressed his mouth in a thin line. “Is something wrong? Give me my phone.”

“I ca… I can’t.” He was struggling to come up with a good reason he couldn’t give it to you, the tequila was getting to him. “It must have fallen out of your purse at the club.”

“What? Jake, I saw you pull it out of my purse.” Now you were annoyed, why was he being so sneaky all of a sudden? “Lemme see.”

“I can’t… shit!” He cursed himself when you managed to move faster than he thought you could and snatched the phone out of his grip, trying to wrestle it away from you and failing when you somehow pinned him to the seat and sat on his chest. “Baby, it’s nothing, don’t look at it!”

“What the fuck are you on about?” You ignored his continued protests as you unlocked your screen and pulled up your texts. “There’s nothing here. Why are you so worried?”

“Nothing? Ran is cheating on you!” He clapped his hand over his mouth as soon as he said it, shaking his head when you gave him a very aggressive glare and all the other conversations on the limo stopped and suddenly your friends were all screaming about how they were going to kick that pretty boy’s ass.

“God, you’re all so fucking dramatic, calm down!” You had to start chucking ice at all of them when they started pulling up their phones to send threats to your fiancé, still staring daggers at Jake, even though there was no way you could stay mad at him, he was just trying to protect you. “Ransom is not cheating on me. It’s Ari!”

“Who cares who it is, I’m going to cut that man’s balls off!” Taylor dodged the plastic cup you threw at her as she kept cursing.

“No, I mean… thanks for this blondie.” Jake at least looked slightly embarrassed. “We’re kinda, sorta, but not totally, in a poly thing with the sex god.”

That shut all of them up, Jake’s eyes bugging out of his head as he stared at you while the rest of your friends just gave you blank looks that made you a little nervous. You had never planned on making this part of your relationship public, but here you were. You hoped Ran’s night was going better.

“It’s not a big deal!” Ransom felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest as he avoided the stares of his friends, all of whom looked very upset with him. “Nothing happened!”

“Oh, right!” He wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole, or that he could just go back to the hotel with Ari and spend the rest of the weekend letting him fuck every thought out of his head, instead of being stuck with all his friends scolding him in some strip club for hooking up with a guy. “That’s why you were both sporting pants tents and trying to suck each other’s faces off.”

“You boys need to calm down.” Ari rolled his eyes when they gave him nasty looks, sighing when he tried to put an arm around Ransom to comfort him and the man practically cowered. “I’m not gonna put up with any of your homophobic bull shit towards him, so lock it up.”

“What? Homophobic?” Dylan had the sense to at least look slightly embarrassed. “Who give a fuck about that, he’s cheating on his fiancée?”

“Yeah, news flash, we all know you’re bi, Drysdale.” Chaz shot a glare at Logan when he looked like he was thinking of making a joke. “No one cares.”

“You know?” Ransom hated how small his voice sounded, letting Ari put an arm around him this time and blowing out a shuddering breath when he leaned into the man without thought. “How?”

“Sloane told us, was trying to get all of us to dump you so she could make you totally dependent on her, like we’d leave you alone with that bitch. We’ve been waiting for you to come out for years.” Dylan shoved Logan when he started to open his mouth again. “But how could you do this to your girl, Ran, you’re fucking lost for her? You realize that all of our girls will kill us if they find out you cheated on her?”

“Alright, let’s all just relax.” Ari decided to take over since Ransom looked like he’d just been hit by a brick wall, pulling his phone up and scrolling up through the group chat. “No one is cheating.”

“Oh, and what would you call it?” Dylan took Ari’s phone and scowled as he looked at the screen, his expression melting into one of confusion as he read all the texts you sent about how pretty Ransom looked when he was choking on Ari’s dick and how much you loved both of them. “Huh.”

“What?” Chaz took the phone when Dylan handed it to him, blowing out a deep breath that had Ransom burning his face in his hands as he groaned and leaned into Ari even more. “Alright then. Are you… happy?”

Ransom just nodded, his growl drowned out by Ari’s when they heard Logan choke on a laugh once he got a look at the texts, Ari snatching the phone out of his hand when he started to scroll through the messages like a damn snoop. Everyone looked massively uncomfortable as all of them just stared at each other, Ransom chewing on his lips until Ari gripped his chin and tugged his mouth open with his thumb.

“Jesus Christ, everyone is so fucking uptight.” Logan rolled his eyes after a few minutes of awkward silence, leaning forward and clapping Ransom on the shoulder then snorting when the man jumped. “Look, Drysdale, I’m just happy that even though you’re getting married you’re still kind of a man whore. So why don’t we all get over this little misunderstanding and hit that gay strip club down the block. Apparently, they have a special on body shots with their dancers. I bet they’ll love you two.”

“So all three of you sleep together?” You rolled your eyes when you nodded in answer to the question for what felt like the tenth time, glad that no one was talking about castrating your future husband at least. “Is… are you guys marrying Ari too?”

“No! Oh my god.” You groaned and gave Jake a look when he kept rubbing your shoulders, he felt absurdly guilty about blabbing and you’d had to spend a good five minutes listening to him apologize. “Ransom and I are in love, and we love Ari, but as our absolute best friend who we also sleep with… a lot. Can we just go enjoy the strippers, please? And thanks so much for helping me explain things, Anne.”

“This is so not on me, you could’ve been up front about your little throuple situation.” Your maid of honor just laughed when you snarled at her. “Yeah yeah, you don’t want to define it, whatever. I’ll buy you a lap dance.”

“Fine, you’re all buying me lap dances!” They finally seemed to be able to move past their initial shock, letting out some light cheers when you stopped in front of the club and all started to climb out until they were eventually giggling when they thought about doing more shots. “I wanna be covered in body glitter and smell like Viva La Juicy by the time we leave. Can I have my phone now, blondie? Want to actually check on the boy toy.”

“Yeah.” Poor Jake had been beet red for the past five minutes, only getting even redder when you kissed his cheek and gave his shoulder a squeeze when he handed your phone back to you. “I’m really sorry, again.”

“Jake, I can’t stay mad at you, so please stop apologizing.” You wound your arm through his and leaned your head on his shoulder, smiling when he pressed his cheek against your forehead and let out a deep breath as he handed you your phone. “You’re my bestie blondie, people would’ve found out anyway, though I will admit it would have been nice if it hadn’t been a surprise. Now, go find me all the pretty twunk strippers, okay?”

He gave you a shy smile before walking away to find you a dancer, still blushing all cute and being his adorable self in a way that was sure to endear him to everyone. You just shook your head fondly as you pulled up your texts, chuckling to yourself and leaning against the bar while you texted Ransom that he did not have to worry about your bridal party castrating him, and that he should enjoy getting turned inside out by his boyfriend and you loved him more than anything.

The sheer amount of alcohol Ransom managed to consume at the marathon of strip clubs had helped him calm down, and being able to just be open now about who he was and what he wanted. Plus, Ari. Ari was always there and the feeling of his hands on Ransom’s body and the occasional brush of his lips against his cheek had pulled any residual stress right out of him, and also gotten him stupidly turned on. The man was a menace. Which was why the two of them had stayed in the bar of Ari’s hotel after the rest of the frat boys went back to their rooms, Ransom leaning on Ari’s shoulder and playing with his hair while he begged him to do all sorts of nasty things to him.

“Baby, you’re so worked up, goddamn.” Ari gave him a sly grin when Ransom whined in his ear, unable to fight the urge he always had to be a giant tease. “Not even sure you could really handle me doing everything you want right now, might make you black out before we have any real fun.”

“Please? Just wanna feel your mouth on my pussy.” Ransom was feeling so warm and buzzed after all the champagne and whiskey he’d consumed through the whole night, nuzzling into Ari’s neck and giggling when he almost spat out his scotch.

“Your what?!” The man hissed low enough that Ransom could barely hear him over the noise of the hotel bar, moaning when the older man gripped the back of his neck and forced his gaze to his as he chewed on his lip. “Your girl know you talk like this, boy?”

Ransom’s knees almost buckled at the low growl of ‘boy’ against his lips, grabbing the front of Ari’s shirt to keep himself upright and whining as his cock throbbed in his soft silk panties.

“You mean Daddy?” Ransom purred when Ari’s pupils somehow blew even wider, only a thin ring of ice around deep black pools he could lose himself in while the bearded man grabbed his ass and pulled him closer. “Daddy loves when I talk about my little pussy. She tells me how pretty it is and how sweet it tastes when it’s all wet and crying for cock. Don’t you wanna taste, sir?”

“Christ, come on.” Ari dragged Ransom after him towards the elevator with a yelp as he basically manhandled the younger man, shoving him inside when the doors opened and pressed the front of his body against his as Ransom panted desperately. “Gimme your phone, gonna check in with your… fuck… your daddy and make sure we’re not stepping over some kind of line.”

Ransom stamped his foot and pouted when Ari started dialing your number, trying to kiss him and whining when the larger man shoved him off and forced him to be still with a hand on his throat.

“Gorgeous?” Ari ignored the way Ransom was trying to grind his hips into him as he leaned him against the wall while the lift headed to the penthouse, frowning at the man while he waited for you to head somewhere quiet. “Your boy’s been drinking a little bit and running that mouth of his. Wanted to check in. Yeah? One second.”

“Puppy?” Ransom purred when Ari put his phone on speaker and the sound of your voice washed over him, making him feel all warm and syrupy as Ari just gave him a curious look. “Baby, you feeling all sweet?”

“Yeah Daddy.” Ransom sighed as he sank into the wall, already feeling his cock starting to leak as he thought about how worked up you probably were after whatever you’d been doing tonight. “Miss you, just wanted sir to give me his fat cock to tide me over a little.”

“That right, pup?” Your voice was low and mixed perfectly with Ari’s deep growl at being called sir, making Ransom’s eyes roll back in his head and his tongue feel like it was too thick for his mouth all of a sudden. “Want him to feed your hungry little pussy?”

“Oh, please.” Ransom could hardly breathe when Ari’s whole body pressed against his, feeling the heavy weight of his dick grinding against his hip as he clutched desperately at his waist. “Need it.”

“You’re lucky Daddy doesn’t mind sharing that pretty little cunt, sweet boy. And that I love spoiling my puppy.” You could tell Ransom was gone from the desperate mewl you heard over the phone, grinning to yourself as you started addressing your ex who sounded like he was heading towards his own kind of lost with the heady growl he let out. “Ari?”

“Yeah?” Ari hummed as he ran his nose over Ransom’s, cupping the man’s jaw softly as they exchanged breath while he dipped his tongue between his parted lips.

“Wreck him.” You chuckled when you heard a feral snarl before the sounds of messy kissing traveled over the phone, squirming a little when you pictured the scene that must be unfolding as Ari prepared to devour your sweet boy. “And make sure you take video!”

“Mmhm.” Ari’s grumbled reply was all he could get out before he was hanging up the phone and burying a hand in Ransom’s hair, sliding the other down his body until he could grab his ass and jiggle it before giving it a good smack.

Ransom was a mewling, keening mess by the time the elevator doors opened to the penthouse, panting desperately and flushed and having difficulty keeping his feet when Ari started shoving him back towards the bedroom. The man had been right, he felt like he was going to explode just from the rough kisses and greedy touches, he was probably going to go into a coma once they got to the good stuff.

“You want me to eat that pretty little pussy, boy?” Ransom yelped when Ari threw him onto the bed after stripping him out of his clothes in a rush while he pulled out his phone to start filming, growling at the sight of the younger man in nothing but his feminine little wine red thong. “Show it to me.”

Ransom whimpered as he turned slowly onto his stomach while Ari watched, making a show of arching his back while he drew his knees up to his chest until he was basically presenting for the older man. He bit his lip and peeked over his shoulder when he heard Ari let out an appreciative groan at the sight of him sliding the thin strip of fabric to the side while he spread his cheeks, giggling when he strode forward and grabbed his hip harshly with his free hand.

“Christ, look at that.” Ari purred when Ransom moaned at the feel of him spitting right on his twitching skin, his pretty hole winking for the camera while he keened when Ari slapped his ass hard. “No wonder your Daddy’s so happy all the damn time, you fucking spoil her with this shit, don’t you?” Ari let out a grunt when Ransom’s only response was a thin mewl, setting the camera on the end table so it had a good view of that sweet ass as he kneeled behind Ransom. “Let’s give her a good show, yeah?”

He didn’t have any chance to prepare before Ari was burying his face between his cheeks, the older man growling against his skin as he dragged his tongue all over his fluttering hole before sucking on it lewdly. The scrape of his teeth over his soft skin had Ransom’s eyes falling closed, his back arching more as he ground his ass back against Ari’s face and let out soft needy sounds.

Ari loved how fucking desperate Ran got when he was drunk, could truly understand why you called him puppy when he was whining and wiggling and begging him to keep going. Ransom stretched his arms above his head and keened when Ari leaned back and spat on him again, rubbing his cheek against the comforter when he nipped at his clenching hole before pressing sloppy, open mouthed kisses all over his ass.

When he ducked lower to suck on his balls, Ransom knew he was going to explode, his breath coming in shallow pants as his cock twitched where it was pinned against his abs by the band of his panties. Then he shoved a finger from each hand inside him and yanked him open so he could spit inside him and Ransom could feel tears leaking down his cheeks, his precum running down his abs like a faucet when Ari pushed his tongue inside him and started fucking him with it.

Ransom whined obscenely when he finally came, his toes curling as Ari’s tongue kept punching into his fluttering hole while the older man groaned appreciatively. He could feel his cum soaking the front of his panties and abs as his cock twitched slowly, another shiver traveling up his spine when the older man gave his balls a harsh squeeze before he rose up on his knees.

“That’s it honey, such a good fucking boy.” Ari grabbed a cheek in each hand and spread Ransom wide, purring at the sight of his pretty hole twitching and winking at him while he just panted into the mattress. “Look at that pretty little pussy, so fucking wet and needy, making a mess all over this bed. Think I should make you squirt, boy?”

“Oh god, please.” Ransom’s eyes rolled back in head when he felt Ari’s thick cock slap against the curve of his ass, keening when he hooked his thumb into his ass and pulled. “Fuck me, sir, fill my tight little pussy up til it’s leaking. Wanna feel you for the rest of the weekend.”

“Yeah, you want it bad?” Ari grabbed Ransom by his throat and yanked him up until his chest was pressed to his back, biting his ear harshly until the younger man started grinding desperately against him. “Want me to fuck this sweet little cunt raw until she’s gaping and ruined? Let’s hope we don’t piss your daddy off, she’d kick both our asses.”

That was all the warning Ransom had before Ari shoved his hips forward and impaled him on his cock, all the breath getting pushed out of his lungs as every muscle in his core spasmed at the sudden intrusion. Ari shoved his fingers in his mouth and groaned in his ear while he started driving into him, nuzzling at his cheek as he set a vicious pace and his other hand dug into his waist.

It was taking all his focus not to black out, he felt like he was getting ripped in half in the best way. Every thrust had Ari’s dick dragging over his swollen prostate, Ransom letting out small yelps each time his hips slapped against his ass while he drooled all over his chin and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Ransom squealed when Ari pulled out of him in a rush and flipped him over, grabbing his knees and holding himself open as the larger man lined himself up again. He groaned when Ari slammed back into him, arching his back to meet each punch of his hips and whining when his cock started leaking all over his abs.

“God, you’re already a fucking mess, honey.” Ari leaned over him and cupped his cheek gently, a sharp contrast to the way his hips were definitely going to be leaving bruises on his ass. “You gonna make an even bigger one? Gonna squirt all over yourself while I fill this pretty little pussy?”

“Yes sir.” Ransom gasped when Ari ground into his ass, humming when he shoved his fingers into his open mouth and swirling his tongue around them. “Please, fill my pussy.”

Ari grinned down at Ransom as he kept sucking on his fingers, cooing when he yelped at Ari grabbing his cock through his panties. The harsh contact was all he needed to come with a sharp cry, his whole body spasming wildly as he came so hard it almost hit him in the face. He kept shivering when Ari curled over him and sank his teeth into his jaw, tears leaking down his cheeks as warmth spread from his core while Ari pumped his cum into him.

“Mmm, such a messy boy.” Ari gave him a soft kiss before straightening up, biting his lip and purring when he got a look at his cum dribbling out of Ransom’s swollen and abused hole. Ransom just hummed as he sank further into the mattress, running his hands lazily over his cum covered torso while Ari grabbed the phone. “C’mon honey, show your Daddy how pretty you look then we’ll get you cleaned up.”

Ransom managed to arch his back all pretty while Ari took his picture and sent it to you, all happy and fuzzy as he floated in the warmth of post-orgasmic bliss. He was vaguely aware of Ari relaying that you said you wanted to lick your pretty puppy clean before he let his eyes fall closed. Damn, he felt so fucking good. The only thing that could have made it better was if you were actually there with them. Maybe he could convince you to convince Ari to come on the honeymoon so he could get it from both ends.

[buddierecs]

mutual pining buddie fics

all explicit rating - 18+ only!!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

good pretender (highly, highly recommend!!!!!) by: likeshipsonthesea "an au where buck broke up with taylor before 5b, ravi and buck become (actually platonic) friends with benefits, and ravi, eddie, and buck all go on a journey of self-discovery that ends with them all getting what they need" word count: 85k important tags: friends with benefits (buckandravi), casual sex, childhood tramua, healing, feelings realisation, jealous!eddie diaz, ptsd, love confessions, anal sex the best life is the truth (my best mask is my face) by: letmetellyouaboutmyfeels the buckleys are celebrating their 50th anniversary, and maddie and buck are both expected to come. to take the heat off maddie, buck impulsively blurts out that he's seeing someone new. obviously, there's only one solution: bring eddie as his fake boyfriend, pretend to be in love with him, and survive the weekend with minimal bloodshed. no problem, except for the, uh. "pretend" part." word count: 43k important tags: fake dating, idiots to lovers, there was only one bed, eventual smut dance with me by jayjay__884 "buck is at his sister's bachelorette party when he gets dragged to a strip club. despite not liking the place, buck meets a stripper that makes his night surprisingly enjoyable. the connection he has with eddie only intensifies after he pulls buck on stage and gives him a dance that's the start of something perfect." word count: 249k important tags: stripper/exotic dancer au, first meetings, stripper!eddie diaz, lap dance/sex, light angst, lots of smut eddie diaz vs the feelings by: elvensorcess eddie dives into the mysteries of attraction, romantic love, and asexuality because there's a good chance he's fallen in love with his best friend. aka demisexual!eddie figures out he’s demi and finds the happily ever after he’s been longing for" word count: 62k important tags: demisexual!eddie diaz, idiots in love, sexual tension, frottage, hand jobs, anal sex, soft!buddie, slow burn, top!evan buckley, bottom!eddie diaz chafe the skin (you know i like it rough) by: honestlydarkprincess "the stubble fic" word count: 5.9k important tags: beard kink, stubble burn, comeslut!evan buckely, blowjobs, deepthroating, rimming, anal sex, dom!eddie diaz, sub!evan buckley all it took was a backwards baseball cap by: honestlydarkprincess "the one in which eddie loses his shit at buck wearing a backwards baseball cap. seriously, can this man get more attractive? is he trying to kill eddie?" word count: 4.9k important tags: boys in love, workplace sex, sexual tension, getting together, semi-public sex, blow jobs, come play, hand jobs drink the river dry by: rianne "eddie gets shot, breaks up with his girlfriend, and pines like there’s no tomorrow." word count: 32k important tags: injury recovery, unresolved sexual tension, friends to lovers, getting together, anal sex, evan buckley has a praise kink, demisexual!eddie diaz, bottom!evan buckley, top!eddie diaz if i lay here, would you life with me (forget the word) by: browney3dgirl6 "the one where eddie’s in the army, shannon gives up her rights to chris, and eddie needs a babysitter. good thing lena knows buck, the guy having nothing better to do than help babysit until eddie gets back. eddie would come home, and he would leave; it wasn’t like they were going to build some lifetime friendship or anything." word count: 90k important tags: different first meeting au, army!eddie diaz, slow burn, idiots in love, literal sleeping together, long distance relationship, soft!buddie, eventual smut

- pt 2 explicit mutual pining buddie fics - mature rating mutual pining fics - general audience rating mutual pining fics

[sweetcheeksschemmenti]

After All This Time

Can’t keep my mind focused on the last chapter of Pick and Choose (surprise surprise lol) so enjoy this tidbit. :)

Wc: 1.6k

Melissa Schemmenti x fem reader

Summary: Many years after the first time she asked, you’re finally able to give Melissa the answer she’s waited her entire life for.

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

Melissa sat at the breakfast table with a plate of toast, bacon, and eggs; she smiled up at you as you placed a hot cup of coffee in front of her and took your own seat. She looked out the window to your backyard to watch your adult children play soccer with your husband. You watched as the corners of her eyes crinkled with silent laughter, taking in every detail of her face like it was the last time you’d ever see her again.

Every year, Melissa spent a week of her summer break visiting you and your family in Maine. You were childhood best friends, you went to college together, she fell in love with you and you turned her down to be with your now husband. But even after you broke her heart, she stuck around. Melissa was a bridesmaid at your wedding, and earned the title of ‘aunt’ when your twins were born. She was there for every birthday and holiday, every cheer competition and weekend soccer game, she was even there to make soup and clean waste baskets when the whole family caught the flu one summer break. In turn, you were there for her marriage to Joe and their eventual divorce. You helped her get back into the dating world just to watch her give up and resign herself to a life alone, claiming that having your family to spend time with was enough for her.

“My God, when did they grow up?” The redhead let out a watery laugh as Melanie tackled Ethan to the ground and wiped a tear from her cheek.

“I ask myself that every day. It seems like just yesterday we were planning their baby shower, now they’ve graduated college and are spending their last summer at home before they move away for their big kid jobs,” you said with a wistful sigh.

Melissa glanced at you with sorrow in her eyes and drifted into her own thoughts. Silence filled the air again as you both nibbled at your breakfasts and stared out the window. She wanted so badly for this to be her reality: to wake up every day for breakfast with you, for those two knuckleheads of yours to be her own too, to experience all the little domestic moments in life with you. All of it.

As far as she knew, you never thought about the day she asked you to run away with her in college. You never spoke with her about it after you let her down (except for that one drunken time she asked again at your bachelorette party, but she forgot about that the next day), you just kept going through life as if it never happened. Really, you thought about it every day. Back then your parents controlled every aspect of your life: which college you went to, what you majored in, what you wore, who you were friends with, and even who you dated. They were strict and if they even had an inkling that you were into women they would have pulled back from your life completely, leaving you with nothing and no one. You were scared of losing everything you ever knew, so despite wanting nothing more than to take Melissa’s hand and be hers forever, you married the man they wanted you to and kept your true feelings bottled deep within.

Slowly, you reached for the hand she had wrapped around her mug and held it in yours. She tore her eyes away from the game outside to look at you in shock; you hadn’t held her hand since your wedding day. You leaned across the table and placed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, hand remaining in yours. “Y/N?”

“Ask me again.” You half whispered.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“What you asked me all those years ago.” You squeezed her hand, your eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Ask. Me. Again.”

Her eyes fell to the napkin on her lap. “I can’t take that heartbreak again, hon. Plus, you have Mike and the kids, it wouldn’t be fair to them. You’ve got a happy family now, you don’t wanna lose that.”

“We’re not as happy as we seem, Red. Besides, Mike‘s always known. You’ve been the one for me since before I could put words to feelings.” You squeezed her hand again, a quiet plea for her to look at you. This time she squeezed back but she still couldn’t bring herself to look up.

She was silent for a moment before she spoke again. “Your mother would kill you.”

You chuckled, “I’m fifty somethin’ years old, it’s past time I cut those apron strings. What’s she gonna do? Take away my inheritance? She’s used most of it to spoil her grandkids anyway.” You lifted her chin to look at you. Your tone turned back to serious. “The kids know too. They won’t tell me they know, but they do. Ethan overheard me talking to Mike a few months ago about the divorce, I heard him run down the hall to tell Melanie. They’re adults now, I think they understand why and how things change.” Your voice caught in your throat, “We’ve known for many years that this marriage would end as soon as the kids were outta the house. Mike and I have talked about it a hundred times. We promised each other that we’d play ‘happy family’ until we knew the twins would be alright. This is our last ‘normal’ week before we sign the papers and our not-so-baby birds leave the nest.”

Mel wiped away the tears that spilled down your cheeks and you gave her a small smile. You’d loved her your whole life, and after everything you’d been through together you never thought you’d feel like you could lose her until that moment. You were so scared she’d walk away, that all those feelings from years ago had been washed away with time.

“Ask me, Mel. Please?”

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the kitchen door swinging open and the twins bounding in to brag about their win against their dad. Mike made his way upstairs to shower without a word. Melanie hopped into Melissa’s lap, earning an ‘oof’ from her, and wrapped an arm around her neck. Melissa had always been her favorite person and you were okay with that, after all she was named after her.

“Aunt Mel, wanna go get ice cream with us to celebrate dad’s defeat?” Your daughter played with the bracelets on Melissa’s wrist, waiting for an answer.

“It’s like 10:30, isn’t it a little early for ice cream, Mini Mel,” the redhead laughed and your daughter’s nose scrunched.

“Damn, what happened to you being the cool mom,” Ethan asked as he stole the last slice of her bacon from her plate. “C’mon, I’m buying!”

Melissa’s smile faltered at the word ‘mom’ but she quickly fixed it, “Next time lead with that, kid. Go start the car, I’ll be there in a second.” She dug into her purse and tossed the keys to your son. Ethan beamed and Melanie raced him out the front door, fighting over who got to ride shotgun. Once everyone was out of the room, she directed her attention back to you.

“Just ask, I promise I won’t hurt you again. I wanna grow old with you and sit in recliners complaining about the price of eggs and milk. I want to spend the rest of my life in your arms. Please, baby.”

She sighed and screwed her eyes shut. You only called her baby when you were drunk. Hearing it come from your sober lips caused her heart to ache. She wanted it, a future with you, with her whole being. “You can’t drop everything for me, Y/N.”

“You’ve dropped everything for me our whole lives, it’s my turn. I’ll go anywhere, do anything, as long as it’s with you. I’m sorry it’s taken me thirty years to get here, but I’m here if you’ll have me. I’d get on my knees to beg, but I’m afraid I’d need you to pick me up.”

Melissa fought tears. “I’ll always pick you up when you’re down, hon, you know that.” She rubbed her eyes, fluffed her hair, and took a deep breath. “After Tweedle Dee and Dum eat their weight in ice cream we’ll talk. I want this, but there’s a lot of emotions that I don’t know how to deal with right this second.”

She began to walk away but you caught her elbow and turned her around. “We’ll talk later, but I still need you to ask.”

You looked deep into her eyes, love and longing swimming around in the pools of green. “Y/N, will you runaway with me and be mine for the rest of our days,” she choked out.

“Only if you promise to always be mine in return,” you teased.

“As if I’ve ever been anyone else’s.” She rolled her eyes and smiled gently.

You kissed her deeply, letting her know how much you truly loved her. Melissa’s hand tangled in your hair, holding you in place. Your whole body burned for her, just as hers did for you. She was the first to release from the kiss and you pouted at the loss of contact. She started walking backwards towards the door to join the twins, a grin on her face so wide you could see all of her pearly whites.

“Forever starts soon, better start packin’ doll.”

You bit your lip and waved as she turned around to leave, muttering an ‘I love you, be safe’ after you heard your kids yell for Melissa to hurry up. Before she was completely out the door she turned her head over her shoulder, “I love you, too. Always have, always will.”

[newtonsheffield]

Investment banker Kate going to work when she gets back and just shrugging when her assistant asks her what she wants to do about lunch.

“I’m actually meeting my husband for lunch.”

Her assistant froze, “your husband?”

“Yes.”

“A man that you’re married to?”

“That’s the one.”

“Right.” She paused for a second, “I just… when did you get married?”

Kate shrugged, leaning back in her desk chair “This weekend.”

“Right, it’s just when you said you were going to a bachelorette party this weekend I didn’t think it was yours.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Right.”

Kate sighed. “Wow, you’re really going to make me say it aren’t you? I got hammered and married my best friend’s future brother in law. His name’s Anthony, he’s very cute. I have excellent taste.”

[justagalwhowrites]

HI BESTIE !!! 🫂

i was wondering how Joel would react to Doc spoiling him ROTTEN after she got that big girl money 🫦 (in the lavender au)

(because i know she will spoil him so much as a thank you for his unwavering support throughout her career 🥹)

OMG Hi Bestie!

I love this ask so so SO much. Joel is so soft with his girls and he deserves all the good things, including his wife treating him to all the best things once she's a big time surgeon.

This is just the perfect prompt for our favorite man's birthday, too! I hope this is just what you were hoping for. Love you!

Spoiled

After years of Joel taking care of you, you take care of Joel. A one shot set in the Lavender AU timeline.

Yes I know it's not a Joel gif but it fits the fic so well I had to.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (Joel and Doc from the Lavender AU)

Warnings: Fluff and smut, smut and fluff. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 4.4K

It started with a shopping trip in Houston for Sarah’s wedding. 

She needed a dress for the rehearsal and her bachelorette party and the malls in Austin just weren’t cutting it. 

“I’m telling you,” she said after coming up empty handed on another Saturday spent shopping as the two of you ate salads and drank sweet tea at a patio cafe. “We need to go to Houston. We haven’t found anything for you, either.”

“I can just…” you began, but Sarah cut you off. 

“Mom,” she raised her brows. “You do not get to say ‘just’ anything about my wedding, come on.” 

You rolled your eyes a little but smiled. 

“Alright,” you put your hands up in surrender. “I’ve got the weekend off again in two weeks, I’ll get us a hotel room in Houston and we can shop til we drop.” 

“I’m going to get you comfortable with spending some of those big surgeon bucks one of these days,” she said. “You need to treat yourself! Live a little!” 

“I live plenty, thank you,” you replied. “And I do it just fine in my Goodwill jeans.” 

“Whatever you say,” she smirked a little, flagging down the server and grabbing the bill before you had a chance to fight her on it. 

Sarah might have had a point. You’d been an attending for the better part of a year now and the jump in pay had been staggering. You were making more now in a year than you had your entire life - or it felt that way, anyway. You’d already made good progress paying off your student loans but you made quick work of the rest. Joel had asked if you wanted to move - something bigger or better somehow - now that you could easily afford it but you’d just frowned at him, almost hurt. 

“This is our home,” you said. “I fell in love with you here, Sarah grew up here, we made Evie here. This is the first place I ever really felt like I belonged, I don’t want to leave.” 

Joel just smiled and kissed your forehead. 

“Then we’ll stay,” he said. “Moving’s a fuckin’ hassle anyway.” 

You’d just been saving money, not really sure what to do with it. You donated some of it, stopped spending time clipping coupons, finally bought a car that was from this decade (but still used). But actually spending it made you anxious. You’d never had money before. You weren’t poor, exactly. You’d always had enough to eat and a roof over your head but you almost never bought new clothes, had never really traveled outside of places that you could easily get to by car. You were pretty sure you’d never even been in a car that wasn’t at least 10 years old before you came to college and your friend Cassie gave you a ride to the store in her new BMW. It was hard to get used to the idea that money could be spent at all, that it wasn’t already earmarked for some bill or, if there was any left, that it had to be saved for a rainy day. 

“You gotta actually spend some of that hard earned money on yourself, Baby,” Joel said as you headed outside to meet Sarah for your weekend in Houston. “Buy some ridiculously expensive dress that I’m gonna want to rip off you in seconds or some purse that’s $1,000 for reasons I don’t understand.” 

“That’s two mortgage payments,” you said, eyes wide. 

“Baby.” 

“Right, right,” you nodded. “On a mission, spend money. Got it.” 

“On yourself,” he added. “Not Sarah. Or not just Sarah, anyway. You two have fun.” 

“You too,” you said, stretching up to kiss him goodbye. “Don’t let Evie con you into giving her candy when she gets home from school.” 

“What wild thing and I get up to when you’re not around is none of your business,” he gave you one last peck on the lips. “Now go, stop worryin’, live a little.” 

The mall in Houston was almost overwhelming. Not in the crowds way malls sometimes were for you, thank goodness, but with the kinds of stores. There were names you recognized from Cassie’s closet and from some of the trust fund girls in your med school program but you realized quickly you had no concept of what things like this actually cost. 

Sarah picked a dress for the rehearsal that was nearly $600 and you choked on the champagne the sales person had given you to sip while Sarah tried on options. 

“You really buy $600 dresses?” You gaped at her as you wandered back into the store from the dressing rooms. 

“Not all the time,” she shrugged. “But we make good money and sometimes it’s fun to buy something nice.” 

She held up a floor length gown to you, the bottom pooling on the ground. 

“That’s too long,” you said. 

“Well we’d get it tailored,” she laughed a little. “Come on, try it on.” 

Another sales person wandered over and offered to set up a fitting room and you snuck a peek at the price tag. Your eyes went wide. 

“That dress is $1200!” You whispered at Sarah as you trailed after the attendant. 

“And it’s for my wedding,” she replied. “And don’t you have that gala thing every spring for work? You can wear it for that, you need a new dress for that anyway. Plus I’m the bride and I say you have to try it on. You can’t disappoint the bride.” 

You sighed and went into the fitting room, feeling utterly out of place in your second hand Levis and vintage top you’d picked up on a shopping trip a few weeks back that felt much more your speed. 

But the dress - outside of the length - looked like it had been made for you. The silk hugged your every curve, the neckline dipping just low enough to display just enough cleavage to be sexy but not so much that it would be scandalous. It was simple, no embellishments beyond the structure of the dress and the deep emerald green of the fabric. Normally you’d have scoffed at something so basic fetching such a high price but, now that it was on your body, you understood it. It was like you’d put on a work of art and, in doing so, become art yourself. 

“OK you can’t laugh,” you said. “But I’m coming out.” 

Sarah was waiting patiently in the little show room attached to your fitting room and you had to hold up the hem of the dress to not trip but she gasped all the same. 

“Oh Mom,” her hand went to her mouth, her eyes wide. “You look incredible.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, turning in the mirrors to look at yourself from every angle. “I don’t look like I’m playing dress up?” 

“Not at all,” she spoke with almost a sense of reverence, looking you up and down. “You’re getting that dress. I’ll buy it for you if you won’t…” 

“No, Sarah,” you protested but she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture before you had a chance to really realize what she was doing. “What was that for?” 

“I’m sending this to Dad…” her voice trailed off and she took a sip of champagne just as her phone rang. She smirked and answered, putting it on speaker phone. “Speak of the devil. Hey old man, your wife is trying to tell me this dress costs too much.” 

“I don’t care if that dress costs $200,000 she’s bringing it home,” Joel said. “She hear me?” 

“Yes,” Sarah smiled, a shit eating grin if there ever was one. 

“Good,” he said. “Baby, you look so damn amazing I’m about to jump in the truck and drive over there just to see you in that thing in person sooner. Save me a trip, bring it home, alright?” 

“Alright,” you sighed. 

“Didn’t quite hear that,” Joel said. 

“I said alright you dork,” you said a little, grinning in spite of yourself. 

“That’s my girl.” 

You bought the dress. And a bag that Sarah insisted you needed for work because she was tired of seeing you haul around a canvas tote. And shoes for the dress. 

When you passed the jeweler window, you were on the way to the car after spending so much money you were surprised you hadn’t fainted. You stopped, the hanger with the garment bag for the dress hooked in your fingers over your shoulder, and looked at the watch sitting in the window. 

It was large and silver but not too ornate, no diamonds or anything like that. The face of the watch was black with elegant white roman numerals on the face. 

“What?” Sarah asked, stopping next to you. 

“Do you think your dad would like that?” You asked, head cocked a little, still looking at the timepiece through the glass. 

“Yeah,” Sarah said after a moment. “Seems like a him watch, if he were going to wear a nice watch, anyway.” 

Joel did already have a watch. A simple one with a green strap and silver colored case and a black face. You and Sarah had picked it out together for his birthday one year. She’d been giddy about it, you had to all but beg her to keep it a secret for a few days until it came time to give it to him. He loved the thing, wore it every day, even more than a decade later. 

But your career wasn’t the only one that had advanced. Joel was no longer doing the manual labor of a contractor every day. More often than not, he was going to meet with clients and arrange contracts and make plans. For a lot of those meetings, he wore a suit and, for a lot of those meetings, you saw him stick his watch in his pocket before leaving the house instead of putting it on. 

“Hard sometimes,” he said when you’d asked him about it. “Fittin’ in with these clients.” 

“Let me just…” you doubled back to the entrance to the store and went inside. 

The watch was more than you thought it would be. A lot more. So, so much more. You watched as the sale’s person’s eyes went from encouraging and hopeful to let down when you reacted to the price. 

“One second,” you smiled sheepishly and pulled out your phone, going into your banking app. Even after spending an arm and a leg on yourself that day, the number in your personal checking account seemed obscenely high. More money than you’d ever had at once until very, very recently. You could afford the watch. You looked at the sales person and smiled. 

“I’ll take it.” 

You had several very strong cocktails when out to dinner with Sarah that night to make yourself feel a little better about spending thousands of dollars on things like clothes and a watch and she just smiled. 

“See, Mom? You spent some money on yourself and the apocalypse did not happen, I think you can actually buy yourself things from time to time.” 

“And things for your dad,” you said. “Because he needs nice things, too.” 

When you got home, Joel insisted that you model the dress for him. 

“It needs to be tailored,” you tried to protest. 

“Not for me to take it off you it doesn’t,” he smiled from his spot on the couch, beer in hand. 

“Fine,” you said. “But only if you let me model everything I bought and you can’t return any of it.” 

“Deal.” 

You went to your bedroom and put on the dress and the shoes and took the watch out of the bag, the face almost comically large on your wrist, before going back to the living room, hem of the dress in hand. 

“Jesus Christ Baby,” he looked at you, his eyes wide. “You look… fuck me.” 

“That is the idea,” you winked. “You like it?” 

“Like is a fuckin’ understatement,” he said, getting up and walking around you slowly, his eyes going up and down your body. “You know, Evie’s at a friend’s for two more hours…” 

“So you’re not going to make me return anything I have on?” You asked. 

“Fuck no.” 

“Not this dress?” You started unzipping the side before sliding the straps down your arms. 

“Dress stays,” he said, gently tugging it down and exposing your chest, kissing the swell of your breasts. 

“What about the shoes?” You asked, putting a sandaled foot out from below the hem. He glanced down, eyes ranging over the straps. 

“Those stay, too,” he said, going back to kissing your chest. “Everything you’ve got on stays, already agreed to that.” 

“Good,” you said as he made it to your neck. “Even this?” 

You held up your wrist, the watch sliding down your arm. 

He frowned, looking at it. 

“Don’t look like you’re style,” he said. “But if it makes you happy, Baby, keep it.” 

“Never said it was for me, Joel,” you smiled a little. You watched him piece it together, taking a moment for him to dawn on him. 

“No,” he shook his head, looking from your arm to your face. “No, you were supposed to get stuff for yourself for a change not…” 

“I did get stuff for me,” you said. “And I got this for you. Because you’re wearing suits more now and I wanted you to have the watch for that. So really, it is for me.” 

He took your wrist gently in one hand, elbow in the other, tilting your arm this way and that to look at the watch in different lights. 

“Baby, this…” he shook his head again. “This is too much, this is…” 

“Not for you,” you cut him off. “Not after everything you’ve given me. This is not enough. But it’s a start. Besides, you said I got to keep everything I was wearing. You already agreed to it, Miller.” 

“Baby,” he sighed. 

“Joel,” you smiled a little. “You’re my husband. Let me give you something nice. Please.” 

He brought the inside of your wrist to his lips and kissed you there, making your pulse flutter against his mouth. 

“Already gave me the best thing there is,” he said. “Anything more feels like I’m stealin’ it.” 

“Steal whatever you want, Miller,” you teased. “But you’re keeping the watch.” 

Joel ended up wearing the watch often. Not as much as the Sarah watch - and he stuck with the Sarah watch for her wedding - but at least once a week for meetings where he needed to dress up for. Every time you gave him a little knowing smile and every time he rolled his eyes a little before kissing you goodbye. But you had yet to get him to accept anything like it in the years since, Joel trying to dodge everything every time you spent money on him. 

So when his birthday was around the corner, you were bound and determined to get him something good. 

“Anything you want for your birthday?” You asked as you, Joel and Ellie wandered around a street fair, meandering towards the car show. “Anything you want to do?” 

“S’not like it’s a big one,” he shrugged. “Just 56. Would love to see all my girls, of course. Could use some new tongs for the grill.” 

“Tongs?” Ellie said, brows raised. “Seriously? Old people are so WEIRD.” 

“You know what kiddo?” Joel smiled a little, faking exasperation. “We’ll see how you’re doin’ when you’re pushin’ 60.” 

“Ew,” she crinkled her nose and wandered to the first car in the row of vehicles on display. You laughed, strolling along with Joel until he stopped at a beautiful old convertible, giving a low whistle. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Just a pretty fuckin’ car,” he said, his hands in his pockets as he walked slowly around it. “Always wanted one of these when I was a kid.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, getting an idea. 

“Neighbor had one,” he nodded. “Let me ride in the back once. Coolest fuckin’ car.” 

He looked over every inch of the thing and Ellie caught up with you while he did, pouting a little as she leaned on the door of the car, her chin propped on her folded arms. 

“I’m starving,” she groaned. “Can I go get some fries at least?” 

“Sure,” you laughed a little, pulling some cash out of your pocket. “Grab me a lemonade, too?” 

You watched as she went to the food stands and you and Joel moved on, walking slowly down the row of cars when Ellie caught up with you again, passing you the lemonade. Joel stole a fry from her cup. 

“Hey!” She protested. “Go get your own!” 

“Might have to,” he said, giving her a wink. “Back in a sec.” 

You waited until he was out of earshot before you grabbed Ellie. 

“Do me a favor,” you said. “That car we were looking at? The blue one? Can you go talk to the owner and find out what make, model and year it is?” 

“I guess,” she frowned. “Why?” 

“Because,” you said. “I found something your dad wants besides tongs.” 

You went and stood in line with Joel, keeping him distracted while Ellie did recon. She took some pictures of the car and texted you all the information which you texted to Andrew as Joel drove home from the fair. 

“Can you help me find this car?” You asked him. “One that’s for sale?”

“Becoming a collector?” He texted back. 

“Joel’s birthday,” you added a smilie face emoji. 

“Excellent,” he replied. “I’ll find you something, don’t worry.” 

It took a few weeks but Andrew found the car. A blue 1967 Mustang Convertible that was being sold down in San Antonio. He went down with you to help you test drive it - you didn’t know a damn thing about cars - and you bought it on the spot. 

“He’s going to freak the fuck out,” Andrew said, driving it home since you couldn’t drive stick. “Seriously, you might give the man a heart attack…” 

You rolled your eyes but laughed all the same. 

“I really hope he loves it,” you said, running your fingers over the dash. 

“I’ll take it off your hands if he doesn’t,” Andrew smiled. “Just don’t tell Jess.” 

Tommy agreed to store the car in his garage until Joel’s party at his house in two weeks and you were giddy as you drove home, feeling like a kid at Christmas as you tried to keep the car a secret. 

By the time the party rolled around, even Ellie was excited and having a hard time holding it together. 

“It’s really just a cookout at Tommy’s,” Joel said as the three of you piled in the car to head over. “Not sure why you two are actin’ like we’re going to fuckin’ Six Flags…” 

“Tommy’s cooler than you,” Ellie said. “Nice to spend time with someone who isn’t a total dinosaur…” 

“Alright, in the car kiddo,” Joel smiled and shook his head a little. “Can’t take you anywhere ’til seatbelts are on, let’s go!” 

You texted Tommy that you were on the way and he responded with a picture of the car, shiny in his driveway with a big, red bow on the hood. 

“He’s going to lose his mind, Kid,” he texted back. “Please tell Maria I want this same treatment when I’m old.” 

“Better put in some work to deserve it, Miller,” you replied, smiling a little. 

Joel parked on the street, frowning at the car in Tommy’s driveway. 

“When the hell’d Tommy get a Mustang?” He got out, his frown deepening. You almost laughed. 

“He didn’t,” you smiled, so big it was like your face was going to crack. 

Joel looked confused for half a moment before his mouth dropped open in shock. 

“No,” he shook his head. Ellie leaned between the front seats, grinning hugely, “No, no that’s… Baby. No.” 

“Suck it up, old man,” Ellie smirked as Sarah and Brandon came out of the house, little Carson making a beeline for the car. Sarah and Brandon waved as Tommy and Maria joined them in the yard. Ellie pulled the keys out of her pocket and dangled them between you and Joel. He took them, staring at them in his hand for a second.

“Should take it before I do,” Tommy hollered and you laughed as you got out of the car and followed an almost dazed Joel toward the Mustang. 

He walked, in awe, around the car twice. 

“I…” he said but stopped, staring at the convertible for a moment. “I don’t….” 

“Do you like it?” You asked, coming up beside him and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Fuckin’ love it,” he said, immediately looking at you. “But Baby, this is too much, way too much, I can’t…” 

“Yes you can,” you smiled up at him. He looked down at you, the awed expression still on his face. “After everything you’ve done for me? For us? Everything you’ve sacrificed, all the ways you take care of me and our girls? The life you gave me? Still not enough, Joel. Not for you.” 

He pulled you tight to him and kissed the top of your head. 

“I love you,” he said, his voice wet. “So goddamn much, Baby.” 

Tommy set up chairs and a table in the front yard so everyone could sit near the car while celebrating Joel. He kept looking over at it in disbelief before looking at you with eyes filled with gratitude and wonder. You couldn’t remember the last time your heart felt quite so full. 

You drove Ellie home, following slowly behind Joel in the new convertible. 

“OK I know what this shit means,” Ellie said, gesturing between you and Joel after you got home, your husband clutching you to his side. “Try to keep it down and not be gross about it because ugh.” 

“Was actually going to see if you wanted to take the car for a spin,” you smiled up at Joel. “Just you and me. Assuming Ellie will behave herself and actually go to bed at a reasonable time.” 

“Anything to get away from whatever that is,” Ellie said, smiling a little as she went to her room. You laughed. 

“So,” you said, once she closed the door to her room. You looked up at Joel, smiling. “Care to take me for a ride, Mr. Miller?” 

He grinned.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Miller.” 

He took you through town slowly, down quiet side streets filled with sleeping people and past businesses that had closed for the night, until the two of you ended up at a large park on the edge of town where things were a little darker and you could see some of the stars. 

“I can’t believe you got me a car, Baby,” he said, his hands running over the steering wheel. His smile was so big you could see it even in the dim light of the moon. “It’s really…” 

“If you say it’s too much again, Joel, I will go and buy you a second one on principle.” 

He laughed at that. 

“I was gonna say it was the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he said, turning to look at you. “Besides you and the girls of course.” 

“Oh, of course,” you smiled. 

He leaned in and kissed you gently. 

“Not sure what I did to deserve you,” he said. “But I sure am grateful for it.” 

Your kiss shifted and you started climbing over the center console, Joel taking a second to move his seat all the way back. You bunched your skirt around your hips and settled over him, kissing him harder, more eager. 

“I’m pretty damn grateful for you,” you whispered against his mouth, his hands going to your hips. You ground down on him and he moaned, pressing his hard length up against you through his jeans. “And I think the birthday boy should get laid in his dream car.” 

“Dream car,” he said, kissing you. “Dream woman.” He kissed you again. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday.” 

You unzipped his fly as you kissed him and tucked your panties to the side, notching his cock against your entrance. He moaned as you sank slowly down onto him, taking all of him inside of you, savoring how he filled you. 

You started slowly, just grinding him deeper into you as you kissed him, his tongue licking into your mouth. 

“You feel fuckin’ amazing Baby,” he moaned, kissing down your throat until he reached your breasts, cleavage bared in your v-neck top. “Always feel so damn good…” 

He was thrusting up into you, trying to set his own pace, and you decided to allow that, matching him stroke for stroke as he groaned below you. His hands ranged up your back, pawing at your shirt until be was able to raise it enough to slide below it and get at your skin with a satisfied moan. He clutched you close, so close that you could hardly move over him anymore. Instead, he fucked up into you, making you whimper and your channel tighten around him. 

“C’mon Baby,” he grunted, voice strained. “Want you to come for me. All I want now is you to come for me, come all over me, fuck Baby…” 

You bit down on his shoulder to keep quiet, the sounds of crickets and cicadas on the air as you came, your sex throbbed around him. You whimpered against him as you came down from your high and he kept working you, his grip on you tightening. 

“Fuck Baby,” he gasped. “Feel too good, I’m gonna… fuck… I’m…” 

He cut himself off with a groan, thrusting deep and filling you, his grip on you relaxing enough that you could sit up a little. You looked at him in the moonlight his eyes closed, a blissed out look on his face. You smiled a little, brushing his more unruly curls back from his forehead. 

“I love you so much, Baby,” he smiled a little, eyes still closed. 

“So I did alright for your birthday?” You teased lightly, his softening cock still buried inside you. 

He laughed. 

“Did perfect,” he tugged you close enough that he could kiss you again, careful to not push you back against the horn. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday, perfect fuckin’ woman, perfect fuckin’ wife.” 

“Good,” you smiled, kissing him. “You deserve it, Joel. You deserve the world.” 

[nolita-fairytale]

don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | part two: august

summary: you head down to savannah, georgia with syd, sugar, liz, and maya for a not-bachelorette weekend.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 5.5k

a/n: it's finally heeeeere!!! i know i've gotten quite side tracked with my luca fic, but chapter two of don't want to walk alone is finally here thank god. anyways, this is a carmy-lite chapter, but i think this is just as important. enjoy, besties. chapter three is thee wedding, so it may take a while for me to get that one out and honestly, i like taking my time with this one. i have some very fun ideas and yes we will be getting honeymoon smut don't worry. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part one | masterlist | part three

Thursday

“Hey, did Syd go out already?” you hear Natalie ask, causing you to pause what you’re doing. 

You’re in the middle of laying out the gifts you’ve brought for your friends for the weekend, as a thank you for coming to Savannah to help you find a wedding dress. You’re not looking for anything extravagant – you are eloping at the courthouse after all – but it felt like a good excuse to get your best friends together for the weekend too. While you’ve spent most of your time planning this trip insisting that it’s not a bachelorette party, it’s certainly beginning to feel like one. 

“Just because we’re not doing a big wedding thing doesn’t mean we can’t do a pre-wedding girls’ trip,” you’d explained to Liz and Maya over your group FaceTime. 

“Hmmm, sounds a bit like a bachelorette party,” Maya had observed with every intent of provoking you.

“It’s not a bachelorette party!” you had vehemently insisted on the call. 

“Sounds a little like one to me,” Liz had added, earning an eye roll from you as you murmured something about the two of them always ganging up on you. 

So here you are, deciding that, maybe, you should just lean into it. 

While Sydney’s gone to the grocery to do the shopping (something she insisted on doing since you’re both making brunch for tomorrow morning) it’s just you and Nat in the house. You could’ve sworn Nat was on the phone earlier – Pete being the every-worrying, doting husband who hasn’t spent a night away from his wife since she got pregnant. 

“Hey, you!” you finally greet her, a broad smile spreading across your face as you turn to see your very pregnant almost-sister-in-law. “Uh… yeah she was going to the grocery store for some things. Need me to text her?”

Natalie shakes her head ‘no,’ before stepping into one of the many rooms that fill the airbnb that you have rented for the weekend. 

“Watcha got goin’ on over here?” Nat asks curiously, as she takes a few steps towards you. 

“Well,” you sigh, placing the neatly folded set of washable silk PJs down on one of the two twin beds that fill the bedroom that Maya and Liz will be sleeping in. “Just because you’re not technically my bridesmaids doesn’t mean that I can’t get you guys gifts, right?”

Sugar snorts, “Huh. That’s funny.”

“Hm?” you hum in response. 

“Soooo many things, especially since you won’t just admit this is your version of a bachelorette party but…” she teases you, pausing before she continues with: 

“I mostly came in here because I have a gift for you.

“What? You didn’t have to get me a gift,” you start, watching as Nat presents a gift bag stuffed to the brim with tissue paper. 

“I know. But just because you refuse to admit that this is a bachelorette party, doesn’t mean I can’t get you a bridal gift,” she answers, taking a seat on one of the beds as she repeats your own reasoning back to you. 

“Fair enough,” you chuckle sitting down on the bed as you accept her gift. 

Parting the mountain of tissue paper, you pull a neatly folded article of clothing wrapped in more tissue paper. Gently, you slide the fabric out of its sleeve, revealing a silk lace slip nightgown out of the gift bag. 

You gasp, examining the soft, delicate material in your hands. 

“Nat, this is-, holy shit. It’s stunning,” you marvel, running your fingers over the creme-colored material. 

“I saw it and couldn’t help myself,” she smiles proudly, happy to see that you love it. 

“It’s perfect,” you whisper, this time moving your fingers over the black lace trim at the hemline. 

“I wanted to give it to you before everyone got here,” she explains softly. “Wear it this weekend. Or for the honeymoon. I don’t know. I saw it and… it just felt like you.”

“Thank you,” you smile, your heart warming as you lean over to give her a hug. She squeezes you back, ecstatic that you love her gift. 

“Think Carmy’ll be jealous I didn’t get him anything?” she asks, jokingly, her eyes narrowing. 

“Oh, this is a gift for him too,” you’re quick to reply with a smirk. 

“Ew!” she glares at you, earning a laugh from you as you defend yourself. 

You shrug, “You set yourself up with that one, mama.”

You exchange a look, and a laugh, as Sugar playfully rolls her eyes at the thought of her brother doing anything more explicit than what could be in a PG-rated film. 

“How ya doin? How’s my soon-to-be-nephew?” you ask, shifting your body so that you’re facing here even more so now as you change the subject. 

“I’m alright,” she sighs, leaning back on her hands behind her. “Second trimester’s been a whole lot better than the first but… this whole pregnancy thing? Wow.”

“Yeah, we are in no hurry,” you empathize, adding a little humor to your sentiment. 

“Well, from what I hear, it hasn’t stopped either of you from-,” she begins to tease you and now it’s your turn to say:

“Oh my god, Natalie! Ew!” 

You roll your eyes this time, no stranger to the fact that you and Carmy’s sex life has started a rumor or two that’s gotten passed around the restaurant staff like wildfire.

She nudges you playfully, earning another laugh from you before the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, sitting side by side. 

Natalie takes a beat, carefully choosing what she wants to say to you, especially since heart to hearts weren’t exactly common for her growing up. 

“I also came in here to say…” she begins, her voice softening because she really means it. “I am so glad that he met you – Carmy – that you found each other. And I meant it when I said that I couldn’t wait for us to be sisters.”

The memory of the night you both got violently high together before Sugar got pregnant – the night she first called you her sister-in-law – brings the biggest smile to your face as you laugh. 

“You’ve changed his life,” she finishes, the deepest of gratitude coloring the words she says. 

You think someone should’ve warned you that getting married would bring up so many goddamn feelings, because you’ve been feeling pretty damn nostalgic and emotional lately too. 

With watery eyes, you grab Sugar’s hand, giving it a squeeze as you say, “Nat, he changed mine. He keeps… changing mine.” You pause for a moment wondering when, all of a sudden, you’ve gotten this sappy. “I love Carmen… so much. And… I’m so glad that in loving him… it brought us together too.”

She nods in agreement, as she whispers a tearful ‘yeah,’ giving your hand a squeeze in return before releasing it. 

“Jesus Christ. When did we become these people?” you chuckle, shaking your head. 

“I have no fucking clue but I’m blaming the pregnancy hormones,” Nat laughs with you. 

She pauses once more, and it’s as if she can’t help herself, diving into it again because there’s so much more she wants to say. 

“You know, I always wanted a sister…” Natalie starts with a disappointed nod of her head. “I always thought… like, maybe things would’ve been different or something. Mikey and Carmy could do no wrong, you know, but me?” 

She lets out another sigh, shifting her sitting position in pursuit of something more comfortable. 

“I don’t know… I always wondered what it would be like – to have an ally in it all, a partner in crime – because Mom was Mom… and-. Well, you know. But now with the baby coming, I just can’t picture putting a child through that.” 

She takes a beat this time, making sure she’s clear on what she’s trying to communicate to you. 

“I think what I’m trying to say is, selfishly, I’m so damn glad Carmy swallowed his pride and called you all those years ago.”

You’re grinning from ear to ear as you listen, agreeing with, “Me fucking too, buddy.”

The sound of the front door is an almost-welcomed interruption as you and Nat exchange a look, the both of you coming to the conclusion that it’s probably Sydney, back from the store. 

“Helloooooooo!” you both hear Sydney call out in the empty downstairs area of the airbnb. 

“We should probably go. See if Sydney needs our help?” Natalie suggests.

“Yeah,” you reply, standing up from where you’re seated on the bed. 

“Nat,” you say, offering a hand to help her up. 

She takes it, murmuring a thank you before groaning about her feet. You giggle, but this time, you have one last thing you want to say to her. 

“Thank you for the gift… and for what you just told me,” you say, before finishing your thought with, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she replies, a soft smile on her face. 

You share a look, and one more moment, before heading downstairs. 

“Look who I found!” Sydney squeals, her voice resonating broadly throughout the house. 

It’s then that you hear the sounds of luggage being rolled, as Maya goes on about how cute this place is, while Liz, following closely behind exclaims something about how goddamn hot it is outside. 

“Oh my god!” you exclaim, leaping over the last few stairs as you crowd both of your New York friends. 

It’s an exchange of squeals, how are you’s, how were your trips, and enthusiastic hugs exchanged between old friends. 

“Liz, Maya, you remember Natalie, right?” you introduce, as Nat gives both of your friends a small wave. 

While Liz and Maya have met Sydney multiple times (including a few trips to New York Sydney’s taken by herself), you know your two best friends have only met Sugar once or twice when visiting you in Chicago. 

“Yes, Carmy’s sister!” Liz says, her eyes lighting up with recognition. 

“Yes,” Nat nods, confirming the statement. 

“Well, come on in! I’ll show you up to your room so you can put your stuff down and whatnot,” you encourage, ushering the both of them upstairs as Natalie asks if Syd needs help unloading the car. 

“I can’t believe we’re finally here!” Maya exclaims, excitedly. 

“In Savannah… That you two idiots somehow figured it out and are getting married,” Liz continues, adding clarity around the very layered statement. 

You laugh, “Listen, you and I both, sister.”

You show both Liz and Maya to their shared room as the three of you catch up about the flight here, shared exclamations about how stoked you are for the weekend, about how much you were all in need of a good vacation anyways. As you watch your best friends set their things down and begin to settle in, it feels surreal. 

Like you and Carmy’s last trip to New York, it feels as if your worlds are once again colliding – two sets of friends from two very different chapters of your life as you approach a new one. 

Friday 

Your not-bachelorette brunch menu goes as follows: 

Syd’s famous potato chip omelet, a vanilla bean yogurt with Liz’s favorite homemade granola recipe, made last night before bed, bacon you’re frying up in a cast iron pan that belongs to the stocked rental kitchen, and one of Liz’s favorite mocktails because, yes,

“You’re making us go for a hike?!” Maya exclaims. “In this heat? In this humidity?!”

“I thought you were… on your whole SoulCycle kick,” you’re quick to reply. 

“Yeah, because it’s indoors,” she emphasizes with a sigh of defeat. 

“Thank god you didn’t get your hair done for this, babe,” Liz teases her friend, earning a ‘seconded’ from Maya. 

“Oh my god! I forgot that we both love SouCycle!” Sugar chimes in, simultaneously. 

“Add it to the list,” Maya replies, because she and Nat have gotten quite chummy over the last 12 hours. 

After ordering pizza last night, Maya and Nat had promptly curled up in a corner of the couch with a glass of wine for Maya, and an non-alcoholic cocktail for Nat, and spent almost two uninterrupted hours of realizing that they had way too much in common to not become instant-besties.

“So let me get this straight. It’s your bachelorette party and-,” Maya begins, straightening up on the barstool that lines the other side of the breakfast bar. 

“It’s not a bachelorette party, it’s just a girls’ weekend,” you and Syd say in unison, you more insistent while Syd simply recites the words as that you’ve droned on about again and again. 

“And we’re not going out?” Maya asks, unamused by your lack of enthusiasm.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you shrug, careless for the idea of going out this weekend. 

“What about the strippers?!” Maya exclaims, a little louder this time, sending all of you into a fit of giggles. 

“What strippers?!” Syd exclaims. 

“Listen, I’m not against strippers…” you laugh with a shake of your head. “...but I just wanted this weekend to be about getting my favorite people together and looking for a dress. YOU are the one who called it a bachelorette party.”

“You’ll have to excuse Maya. It’s been a while since she’s had a weekend away from full-time mom duty,” Liz teases her, as the two of you share a knowing look. 

“Not to mention full-time work! And full-time wife-ing,” Maya adds insistently. “I’m ready to shake my ass!” 

You and Sugar both snort with laughter and Syd snickers again, plating her final omelet. 

“And while she’s somehow the first one of us to settle down, she’s also always been the biggest party animal of the both of us,” you continue, picking up where Liz left off. 

“See, this is what you have to look forward to,” Syd jokes, directing her comment to Nat. “The both of you.”

“Oh shut up,” she quips back, playfully. 

You shrug, before offering to help Syd distribute her stunningly plated omelets to the kitchen table that Liz has already set. 

“Tell us what you made today,” you joke, doing your best Padma Lakshmi impression, as if Sydney were a contestant on Top Chef. 

Sydney laughs, while the rest of the girls take their seats, standing at the head of the table as she takes your invitation to roleplay a little too seriously:

“So this… is a potato chip omelet with boursin cheese inspired by our very own Natalie Berzatto.”

“You’re amazing,” Natalie coos, because she truly cannot get enough of this omelet. 

“This looks incredible,” Maya compliments, admiring the neatly shaped French omelet. 

“And the potato chips are fucking genius,” Liz marvels, simultaneously.

“Something I started making at the restaurant just for Nat since, you know, it kinda hits all the cravings. It’s salty. It’s filling. You know you got a little texture going on with the chips. Aaaaand I’m starving so let’s end this Top Chef cosplay right now and eat,” Syd says, earning a laugh and statements of agreement from the rest of you as she rushes to the last empty chair. 

You spend the morning enjoying breakfast before ushering everyone out to the car for your hike. Insistent on heading out there before it gets too hot, you decide it’s probably best to go before noon. As you head out to the Skidaway Island State Park trail, the fact that you friends are finally all together in one room begins to hit you. While Nat and Maya have hit it off over their love for SoulCycle, how strange pregnancy cravings are, and their mutual adoration for Maggie Rogers, you smile to yourself while you listen to Sydney and Liz dissect the most recent season of Love Island. 

And despite the few yet passionate protestations, the hiking trail really isn’t all that bad. The five of you spend about an hour out there, hanging out a little longer along the boardwalk, before heading back into town for lunch, and then home for showers and some downtime. Tonight’s game plan is to get all dressed up (sort of) then head to Mashama Bailey’s restaurant, The Grey. 

You take some time (and a nap) to yourself this afternoon, knowing that everyone else has taken some time to read, catch up a little, or just hang out. As you awaken from your nap, you flip through your phone for a bit, and, you think to yourself, it feels really damn good to slow down. 

You decide to call Carmy, Facetime-ing him as you remain snuggled up in the airbnb bed. It takes a few rings before Carmy answers, his hair wild, dressed in his chef whites. 

“Hey, babe,” Carmy smiles, as soon as your face appears on his phone screen. “It’s good to hear from you.”

“You too. I’m glad you picked up,” you reply, a lightness in your voice that only comes with vacation-you. 

“How’s my girl doing?” he asks you, adoration in his eyes. 

You hum happily in response, stretching a little in your bed. 

“She’s great. But she misses you,” you answer, soaking in how much you love when he calls you his girl. “The trip’s been great so far, baby. We went for a hike this morning and uh, well, everyone’s really hit it off. Pretty sure Nat and Maya have become best friends now.”

“Uh oh.”

“Oh come on,” you chuckle, snuggling deeper into the duvet. “You know Maya’s always been your biggest fan.”

“Yeah,” he nods softly, because he does know that, for whatever reason, she’s always been his biggest advocate. 

“But how are you? How’s Aioli? What am I missing?” you ask your future husband. 

“We’re good. And Aioli is still the most spoiled cat in the Greater Chicago area. Not much to report here. Just taking a smoke break before dinner service,” he answers with a shrug. 

“What’re you up to?”

“Just waking up from a nap,” you reply with a yawn, your disheveled bedhead more of a turnon then Carmy will admit. “And we’re going to The Grey later.”

“Mashama’s place?”

“Yeah.”

“You gonna get all dressed up?” he asks, his interest piquing. 

“Yeah, I think we are,” you reply, the conversation taking a slightly flirtier turn as you add, “Don’t worry. I’ll send pictures.” 

With a shy look on his face, Carmy returns with a:

“Oh shit. Well, let me know how it is. The restaurant.”

“I’ll report back,” you assure him. “You know… maybe we can come back here together. Another time.”

Carmy hums in response, barely able to wrap his head around the idea of a vacation. It’s not like you’d never been on one together, but no matter how many steps he takes back, how much he’s learned he’s allowed to (sometimes) slowdown, the unshakeable fear of falling behind hangs over his head. He’s learning, getting better at it, and you’ve helped, but it somehow always still feels a little unsettling at first. 

You can see that Carmy’s mind is running a mile a minute, so you decide to cut to the chase as you say: 

“I just… wanted to call and see what was up. Tell you I was thinking about you, babe.”

He smiles softly. 

“Yeah,” he exhales. “I’m thinking about you too.”

He waits a beat before following up with:

“I’m always thinking about you.”

“I love you, Bear,” you whisper, a smile on your lips. 

“I love you too,” he says back, and you swear Apple has installed a filter on FaceTime with how vibrant and blue his eyes are as he looks at you. 

The knock at your bedroom door grabs your attention, your eyes shifting immediately to where the door hangs slightly open.

“Hey, I heard you were up,” Sydney says, poking her head in. “Can I come in?”

“Oh my god! Yeah, of course. I’m just on the phone with Carmy. Wanna come say hi?” you encourage, waving her your way. 

“Sure!” she grins, quick to hop onto the bed, settling down right next to where you lay. 

“Great. It’s like you never left Chicago,” Carmy groans dryly, as Sydney snuggles in. 

“Whatever. You miss us,” Sydney shoots back with a playful eye roll.

Carmy’s become no stranger to getting kicked out of his own bed when Sydney comes over – you and her taking it over to watch a movie or giggle while watching TikTok videos for hours on end. Most days he’s so glad that you found a friend in each other, while other days, he’d very much like his bed back. 

“Well, babe. I won’t keep you. I’ll see you Sunday?” Carmy asks, more than happy to let you spend time with your friends. 

“See ya Sunday, honey,” you reply before ending the call. 

You toss your phone on your bed with a sigh as Sydney fake vomits at your sickeningly sweet goodbye. 

“Did you nap?” she asks you. 

“Dude I passed the fuck out,” you reply, enthusiastically. 

“I don’t know how you do it. Like, I think I’ve seen you sleep in…” she starts, trying to pull together a rough guesstimate in her head of how many times she’s seen you nap in a public place. “... more places than I can count.”

“OH! I have not forgotten about your little… photo album,” you remind her, in reference to the photo collection of you sleeping that she has of you. “I’m begging you to release this photo album AT our wedding brunch.” 

And you’re only half-joking about it. 

“Did you get a nap in?”

“Nah.” 

You take another breath as you and Sydney lay next to each other, settling into a comfortable quiet as you reflect on the moment you had with Sugar yesterday, suddenly consumed with an immense amount of gratitude for her and Sydney’s presence in your life. 

“Shit…” you exhale. 

“What’s up?” Sydney asks you, turning her head to look over at you this time. 

“Somebody should’ve warned me that getting married would like… bring up all these extra feelings about… literally everything,” you admit, your eyes fixed to the patterns on the popcorn ceiling above you. 

“Oh god,” she groans. “Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

“God no!” you snort, reassuring her that you just finished your period. 

You and Sydney exchange another laugh, and a look of mutual affection, before returning your gazes back to the ceiling. 

“You wanna… talk about it?” Sydney asks, carefully. 

It’s not that you and Sydney don’t do the heavy stuff together, but she’s become one of your best friend because she makes you laugh harder than anyone ever has, so it always feels different – foreign in a way – when you have these moments together. 

Your friendship with Syd is lighter. It’s laugh until your abs hurt kind of lighter. 

But you know she’s here for all the rest of it too. 

“Uh… sure,” you answer, as you share what’s on your mind. “I’ve just been so nostalgic lately. Just thinking about… you know… me and Carmy’s relationship. The life I’ve built with him. You guys….”

“Ew,” she jokes, her face twisting into an expression of repulsion. 

“I know,” you groan, unable to stifle the life that escapes your lips. 

“Not to get all, you know, emotional or anything,” Sydney starts, shrugging it off like it’s no big deal. 

“But like… I wanted to work with Carmy, you know? Which is why I came to The Beef. And… It was a lot.” She pauses, thinking about what she wants to say next as you nod along because you know it was a lot. “I wanted to learn from him and… I wanted to be somewhere that I could make an impact – where I could make something good.”

And in the spirit of being sappy and nostalgic Syd continues. 

“And… I never thought, like, in a million years… that on top of building a restaurant… I’d meet you. You’re like… one of my best friends.” 

“Woahhhh,” you tease her, pretending to be surprised. 

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.”

You both take a beat, knowing that you’re both using humor to deflect from the moment of vulnerability that you’re sharing. 

“Syd?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re one of my best friends too.”

Saturday

“This isn’t me. I mean… none of this… is me,” you say to yourself, examining your reflection in the mirror. “I mean. We’re getting married at the courthouse, you know?!” 

Maya had booked you an appointment at one of those high end bridal boutiques where they make a custom sign for you and serve champagne, and while it was more than a lovely gesture, even the least-fancy dresses here still don’t feel right.

“I figured as much but thought we’d give it a shot,” Maya sighs, disappointedly, as Syd and Nat exchange glances. 

“If it helps, your tits look great,” Liz suggests, earning a laugh from you because, she’s not wrong and it may be the highlight of this dress stop. 

A mischievous smile spreads across your lips as you say: 

“C’mon. I have an idea!”

It’s those five words that lead you to the most ridiculous bridal consignment shop with the floofiest gowns you’ve seen all day. Deciding that you should have a little more fun with today, you use the fact that you’re the bride and it’s your weekend to convince your friends that they have to try the most extravagant and silly dresses on with you.

“Oh my god! Well we’re going to make beautiful brides,” Maya gasps facetiously, as she steps out of the fitting room in what can only be looked at as a ball gown. 

“I’m pretty sure this thing has a built-in petticoat,” Liz adds, spinning around in the dress she’s tried on, something that looks like it should be what one milks cows in. 

“I’m SO sending this to Patrick,” you laugh, snapping photo after photo on your phone while Nat cackles along with you. “I think you guys are going to have to get married again just so you can wear this dress.”

Before you know it, Sydney is pushing you into a dressing room with another dress to try on, promising you that she’ll try something on this time too. It takes way too long to put on the ball of taffeta, and Sugar has to come in to help figure out what goes where, before you emerge once again, like a cotton ball of a bride. 

“Well, I think this is the one,” you joke, staring at your reflection in the mirror. 

“And we can’t forget thiiiiiis,” Maya says in a sing-song voice, adding a hand beaded veil to your head this time. 

“Wait, this is actually really pretty,” Nat says, in reference to the veil. 

You agree with her, as Maya slips away to grab a few more dresses from out front, before turning your attention to the still-closed dressing room that Syd is hiding in. 

“Sydney Adamu. Get your ass out here!” you holler, just as she makes her dramatic entrance, pulling back the curtain to the fitting room. 

“Oh my god!” you gasp, the minute you see her in the beaded, fitted white dress. Aside from the mermaid tail-like hem, the fitted bodice fits her like a glove. “Ummm… this is hot!” 

“Excuse me?!” Nat squeals as Liz simultaneously adds, “Okay, miss thing! Give us a walk! Give us a spin.” 

“You guys are out of control,” Sydney says, gesturing towards the three of you, even though she knows you’re right. 

She looks phenomenal. 

“Okay, okay. Go try these on. I think I finally found some good ones,” Maya encourages. And before you can even protest, she’s handing you a few hangers worth of white dresses and shoving you into a dressing room while Syd continues to strut around the fitting room area. 

You smile to yourself, listening to your friends giggle and squeal over the silly dresses, while you hang up the few that Maya’s picked out for you. One in particular catches your eye: a slip-like silhouette with a high halter-like neckline that cuts low in the back. You run your fingers over the smooth material and decide to try this one on first. 

The dress fits a little big, and the hemline is a little long, but it’s nothing you can’t take to a tailor. You pinch the fabric, picturing what it would look like fitting a little closer to your body as you shout:

“Guys!!” 

“What? Did we do the impossible? You find something you actually like?” Sydney teases you, as you pull the curtain back. 

“Um… well it needs to be taken in some. And hemmed. But… yeah,” you reply, the reactions immediate on your friend’s faces as soon as they see you. 

Maya gasps, while Liz’s jaw drops. Tears well in Nat’s eyes while Syd rubs a few soothing circles on Nat’s upper back. 

“Holy shit,” Liz says. 

“We did the impossible,” Maya adds, awestruck. “We actually found something that you, the anti-bride, actually like.”

“Oh sweetheart, you look so, so beautiful,” Nat whispers, so overwhelmed with emotion as she thinks of you and Carmy. And because this is so not any of you, Sugar can’t help herself, instantly deflecting with a dry, “God, I can’t believe you haven’t left his ass,” as the five of you burst into another fit of giggles. 

As the laughter subsides, and the reality that you’re going to marry the love of your life sets in, you stare back at yourself in the mirror once more, the words falling out of your mouth. 

“Yeah. I… think this is it.”

--------------------------------------------

Crowded around the dinner table, the five of you work through what seems like a never-ending amount of Chinese takeout, as you wonder to yourself who let Liz over-order when you’re all leaving tomorrow morning. You sit next to Sydney, one of her knees tucked into her chest as she listens to all the drama from Liz’s last kitchen job. 

“Shit,” Sydney commiserates. “When do you just say ‘fuck it’ and start your own spot?”

“Uh… when I marry rich and don’t have to worry about the business of it all?” Liz replies, earning an ‘amen’ from Nat and a laugh from you. 

“I always knew,” Maya says, a sure smile on her face as she changes the subject. 

“What?” you ask her, quizzically. 

“I always knew that you and Carmy would end up together,” she replies with a certain amount of aplomb that baffles you. 

It’s a simultaneous “How could you know?” from Liz and “How could you know that?” from Sydney, and an “I didn’t even know!” from you, as Nat exclaims a skeptical, “My brother?!”

“I knew! Because…” she declares insistently. 

“I saw the way that Carmen looked at you. How he always looked at you. Even when you thought you were just friends. Even when you guys banged and thought you fucked it all up. And especially when he finally got over himself and invited you to Chicago.”

It’s a strange feeling, that one of your best friends in the whole wide world could see something that you, for a long time, could barely understand yourself, and it reminds you of the magnitude of you and Carmy’s love story. 

“That was really beautiful,” Sydney admits, so casually that you have to laugh. 

“You always were his biggest champion,” you say, earning a confident nod from Maya. 

“Hey, remember when he was so nervous to even talk to you that he spilled your drink all over you?” Liz brings up, almost jokingly as you all burst out into laughter. 

“You were soooooo mad.”

“So mad!” you agree passionately. 

“Poor guy didn’t know what he was doing,” Liz chuckles. 

“What an asshole,” Nat adds, as she and Sydney exchange a knowing look. 

“Well. I will cheers to that,” you announce, even though you know, for all the shit you give him, he is and always will be the love of your life. 

“To our last night here in Savannah. And you, our best friend, in all of her anti-bride glory who got us all here this weekend. And to Carmy, for loving our girl. Our king and queen of (not-so-much-anymore) denial,” Maya toasts, holding up her glass. 

You cheers with your friends, exchanging laughs and quips as your glasses clink. You look around the table, and it’s not just the wine you’re drinking that brings a warmth to your cheeks. There’s Liz and Maya, the friends that loved you through your life before Carmy, through hating him, and eventually, through falling in love with him. And then there’s Nat and Syd, the two women who, had you and Carmy not taken a chance on each other, you never would’ve met. Never would’ve gotten to know. Never would’ve gotten to love. 

You’re starting to understand this whole bachelorette party thing. You may not have bridesmaids, or all of the bells and whistles that come with having a big ceremony, but the love that you have in your life is bigger than just romantic love. 

It’s in this room right now, a living, breathing thing that fills the air and warms you from the inside out. 

It’s palpable, it’s real, and most importantly, it’s yours.

[thoseboysinblue]

My Type

Part 1

Christian Pulisic x reader

You have a chance encounter with Christian, who happens to be just your type.

Word count: 2700+

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing, drinking

Thanks to the girlies in the gc for the inspiration 😘

You spent the day lounging on the beach in Miami sipping on drinks, reading, listening to music and enjoying some much needed downtime for your friend, Ella's, bachelorette party. After your day in the sun, you and your friends had all returned to the beach house you were renting for the weekend to get ready for your night out. It promised to be an interesting night based on the theme of "dress like your type" chosen by the bride-to-be.

You were thankful that you would be able to dress casually and let your hair down a bit, pulling on some cutoff shorts and your favorite sneakers. Although your friends had no idea who he was; Christian Pulisic embodied your type, brown hair, brown eyes, soft spoken and athletic. Topping your outfit off with his jersey, you finished curling your hair and applied a final coat of lip gloss and mascara before you joined the rest of the group.

A few more drinks and social media posts later, you all climbed into a minibus, ready to enjoy the Miami night life and celebrate your friend's upcoming wedding.

"I don't know man, can't we just stay here?" Christian asks, running his hand through his hair.

"No, come on, let's go into Miami, have a night out, blow off some steam," Nick pleads with him.

"Fine, yeah, whatever," he gives in, going into the bathroom and turning on the shower.

He's tired and isn't really in the mood for a big crowd, but he doesn't get to see his friends in the States that often so he obliges their request for a night out, hoping a few drinks will improve his mood.

They arrive at a night club, trying his best to keep a low profile, Christian directs them to a booth just off the dance floor and orders a round beers and shots for everyone.

Scanning over the sea of people on the dance floor, Nick nudges him and tilts his head in the direction of your group of friends, "they look like a fun bunch," he raises his eyebrows. Christian had already spotted you, noticing you were in a US soccer jersey, "interesting attire for a night club" he thought to himself as he waited patiently for you to turn your back to him so that he could see whose jersey you were wearing. His eyes widen and his heart rate increases slightly when you turn just enough for him to see "SIC" on your back.

You are enjoying yourself, dancing and drinking the night away with your friends, mostly ignoring anyone who approaches your group since you are more interested in your girls weekend than any random hookup. "I'm going to go get drinks," you shout over the music to Ella before turning to make your way through the crowd to the bar.

"I'll be right back" Christian says to Alec, noticing you leaving the dance floor and hoping to catch you at the bar.

You push your way through the crowd finding an open spot at the bar and waiting to catch the bartender's eye. Christian spots you, breathing a sigh of relief when he sees an open space next to you that he can squeeze into.

"Nice jersey, you a fan?" he says over the music. "Something like that," you say back, still trying to get the attention of the bartender until you turn to face whoever is speaking to you.

"Oh shit" you blurt out as you are met with a pair of dark eyes and a playful grin, dimples fully on display as you feel your cheeks flush.

"Hi" he chuckles, grabbing the bartender's attention, finally.

"Can I get a Michelob Ultra here, and whatever she's having, then send a round of beers to that booth over there, along with tequila bottle service," he asks, nodding towards you to order, "you can order for your friends too, if you want," he smiles at you, "just put it on my tab" he nods at the bartender.

"One vodka sprite and one vodka cranberry please" you smile, thanking him for the drinks.

"You could've ordered for the rest of your friends," he smiles at you. "I just came over to get something for me and the bride-to-be," you shrug, "I wouldn't expect you to get drinks for all of us."

"Ah, so it is a bachelorette party," he says offering you a lime for your drinks and picking up the vodka cranberry you had gotten for Ella. "Yeah, just here for the weekend," you say taking a sip of your drink and watching as he takes a swallow of his beer.

"I'm assuming there is a theme, or do you always go out dressed in jerseys?" he smirks, looking you up and down before catching the look on your face that didn't seem amused by his comment. "That didn't come out right, you look good, I swear, it's just not what girls around here usually wear on a night out," he tries digging himself out of the hole he's in, but you don't budge, keeping a straight face. "Fuck. I'm making this worse" he says as he rubs his hand over the back of his neck looking at you, his cheeks flushing.

"You finished?" you say, still no sign of amusement on your face.

"Thanks for the drink, but I don't think I'm what you came into this club looking for, Christian" you hold your hand out to take Ella's drink from him.

His pupils dilate slightly as he hears his name roll off of your tongue, "I'll take this to her," he looks at you, his demeanor definitely changed.

Christian notices that his group of friends has now joined in with your friends on the dance floor as you are making your way back to Ella, "fuck sake" he mutters to himself before plastering a smile on his face and offering Ella her drink along with his congratulations.

"It is a bachelorette party, man" Nick shouts over the music "dress like your type is the theme," he grins, grabbing one of your friends and spinning her around before he realizes what you have on, a Cheshire Cat grin on his lips. You stand there frozen, tempted to just leave without making eye contact with Christian again.

"What are the fucking odds" Alec chuckles elbowing Christian. He shakes his head at him, "don't, I've already fucked it up," he rolls his eyes at himself, watching as you slip away through the crowd.

"Hey, let your friends know I've bought beer and a bottle of tequila for our table over there, you guys can help yourselves and if you want anything else, just have one of them put it on my tab" he gestures towards Nick and Alec smiling at Ella before wandering over to the booth and sitting down.

You return to your friends on the dance floor, noticing that Christian seems to be watching you from his booth, averting his gaze every time you glance towards him. A smirk painted on your lips, you decide to give him a little show if he was going to stare all night. You dance sensually to the music, turning to give him a good view of your ass along with his name on your back, pulling your shirt up slightly in the heat of the packed dance floor, exposing your toned mid drift. You throw him a wink when you catch him staring, his lips slightly parted like he's in a trance.

"Come take a shot" Abigail shouts at you, grabbing your hand along with Nick's and pulling you over to the table where Christian is sitting having absolutely no idea that he is actually the man whose jersey you are wearing.

"What's your name?" she shouts at Christian, pouring shots out for the four of you. "Christian" he smiles catching on to the fact that she doesn't recognize him. "Why aren't you dancing?" she presses him, sliding a shot across the table to him. "Because he doesn't even want to be here," Nick answers earning a glare from Christian, "he'd rather be at home, being boring," he chuckles swallowing the shot back and turning to grab a lime. "So would, y/n, we always have to beg her to come out with us," she laughs before taking her shot. "Thanks for these" she grins at Christian before turning to pull Nick back to the dance floor.

"You gonna take that?" he nods towards the shot glass sitting in front of you as you sit down on the edge of the booth. "Are you?" you fire back at him. He nods, watching as you take the shot glass and hold it to your lips, pausing slightly to take a deep breath before taking it. You glance around looking for a lime, finding him holding one up for you between his fingers. He pulls it away when you reach for it, smirking as he offers it to you again, holding it up to your lips for you to take. You roll your eyes and pull the lime from between his fingers with your mouth, noticing the way he bites his lower lip when you do.

He takes his shot quickly, standing up and holding his hand out for you, "dance with me?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow at you. "Fine" you huff, placing your hand in his and allowing him to lead you out onto the dance floor.

"Y/N, is it?" he asks as you nod, turning your back to him as he places his hands softly on your hips.

"Tell me how this is your type," he says, pulling at the material of the jersey you're wearing. You grind your hips back against him, smirking when he groans and grips onto your hips a little tighter before you turn to face him wrapping your hands around the back of his neck. "Is it, actually me, or something else?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"I mean, I guess it's guys like you, dark hair, dark eyes, athletic, probably should throw some red flags in there too, since that seems to be what I attract, but no, not you specifically" you shrug at him.

"Well, no red flags here," he dips his head to speak directly in your ear, causing a shiver to run up your spine. "You sure about that?" you tilt your head back to look him in the eyes. "I guess that would depend on what you consider red flags," he grins at you.

"I know what I said earlier, came across wrong," he starts before you hold your hand up against his chest stopping him. "Don't worry about it, I wasn't actually upset, just wanted to make you squirm a bit," you say, the corners of your mouth tilting up slightly. "Well, I still want to explain my self," he says turning you back around so that your back is against his chest.

"It's actually nice to see someone dressed more casually on a night out, I like it, prefer it actually," he says, against the shell of your ear, his mouth dangerously close to your neck as you feel his warm breath fan across your face, "most girls around here come out specifically looking for one thing, but you don't seem that way."

You shake your head, "Do you really think I'd have worn your jersey if I thought there was a chance I'd run into you? I wanted the ground to swallow me up whole when I realized it was you standing next to me at the bar," you say, throwing your arm up and around the back of his head, pulling him closer to you so that he could hear you.

"I noticed you before I realized what you had on," he smiles against your neck inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume mixed with your shampoo.

"Is that so?" you ask, turning to face him as he nods, cheeks flushing a bit. "Yes, seems like you're my type, too" he winks.

"Would you like another drink?" he asks tilting his head towards the bar. "I think just a water, this time" you smile as he slips his fingers through yours, pulling you towards the bar. He orders both of you a water as you sit and chat realizing you have a lot in common with one another. "How long are you here until?" he asks. "All day tomorrow, and our flight is at 4 on Sunday," you smile at him.

The bartender calls last call and you watch as Christian closes out his tab. Abigail and Nick walking over to where you are. "Y/N, our minibus is on the way, it will be here in a few minutes," she says, eyeing Christian up and down as he slips his card back into his wallet. You nod at her and stand to leave, but feel Christian's hand slip loosely around your wrist giving you a little tug to get your attention. You turn to face him, standing between his legs, "nice to meet you, Christian," you smile, bringing one hand to the side of his face and leaning in to press a light kiss to his cheek.

"Yeah, it was nice to meet you too, y/n" he smiles nervously and it seems like he's holding something back. You offer him a smile, before turning to join the rest of the group assuming your chance encounter is over and that you will never see him again.

"Please tell me you got her number," Alec says to Christian as he watches you walk away. "Nope, didn't even get her last name," he says shaking his head at how stupid he's been. "Did either of you get any of their names so that maybe we can track them down?" he looks between them visibly frustrated when they both shake their heads.

As you crowd into the minibus, Ella, loops her arm around yours. "Who was the hottie you were with all night?" she giggles. "He was exactly my type," you sigh at her. "Well did you get his name?" she asks. "Didn't have to" you roll your eyes, opening up his Instagram profile and showing it to her. "Oh fuck, are you serious?" she stammers, clearly at a loss for words when you nod and bury your face in your hands.

"It's fine, not like I'll ever see him again" you shrug. "Oh, honey, the way he was devouring you with his eyes, that boy is going to be trying to track you down," she grins. "Well, it's gonna be tough, he only got my first name," you shake your head at her.

Taking matters into her own hands, Ella, tags him on one of the pictures she had posted earlier in the evening, hoping on an off chance he might see it along with your profile tagged.

Once he's home, Christian scrolls through his social media, clearing out notifications when sees that someone named Ella has tagged him on a picture. Surely not, he thinks to himself as he clicks on the notification, opening up the picture of you and your friends. He smiles to himself realizing that Ella must have added the tag recently in hopes of playing matchmaker after he presumes you'd told her who he is. He notices that you are also tagged, clicking on your name and finding that your account is private, his finger hovers over the request button momentarily before he pushes it and closes the app and goes to sleep.

The next morning you wake up, groaning when your head starts pounding as soon as you sit up. You get out of the bed and put your phone on the charger after you notice it's dead, before going in search of water and painkillers. When you return to your room, your phone turns on, and you hear several notifications come through. Assuming it's where your friends have tagged you in photos and videos from last night, you grab the phone and scroll through the notifications.

Your eyes widen in disbelief when one in particular catches your eye:

cmpulisic has requested to follow you

Part 2

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