#facfiction

[art-tism]

In Our Silence- Dean x Fem! Reader

AN: I want to make this a longer multiple-part series with a slow burn friends to lovers trope. Eventual (probably) Smut in future parts. This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction, so I hope it's okay!

(Part 1: Movie Night?) | (Part 2: Coming soon) |

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings: None, just fluff

also okay, can we appreciate this gif, dear GOD

Movie Night

Leaning against the side of the Impala, I arched my neck back, tilting my head toward the car's roof. The August sun cast a golden hue over everything, its warmth caressing me from my neck down to my toes. The air was filled with the scent of late summer, a mix of fresh grass with a faint hint of wildflowers. I savored the beautiful weather, the temperature a perfect eighty degrees, with a gentle breeze tousling my hair pushing the clouds along lazily in the sky—it was a moment suspended in time. I wished to stay in this rare opportunity to truly be present forever.

As I passively watched particles stir around in the light beams burning through the dense leaves above, I couldn’t help but be transported back to a time when I spent my free time outdoors, immersed in nature's beauty, trying to connect with the world around me and traversing the landscapes of North America. I still drive across the country and back, but for very different reasons. The hunter life keeps me constantly on the move, now always on edge waiting for the next creature, the next battle, the next world-ending event. It was a life of constant vigilance, with little time for reflection or stillness.

Despite the chaos of my life, at this moment, leaning against the sleek metallic black of Dean’s prized possession, I felt a sense of contentment wash over me. The world lulled to a momentary pause, for just a moment, as stay there. I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of the sun and the soft caress of the wind soothe my senses once more. For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine a different life filled with moments like this again. But that was nonsense, a distant memory now softened by time. I've come to find satisfaction in the life I've made for myself today. Everyone in the hunting world has a reason for being there, and it's often born from tragedy. I accepted this life because it led me to the Winchester brothers. My entry into the hunting world was marked by meeting Sam and Dean Winchester, an event that, as anyone familiar with the name 'Winchester' might guess, was perhaps the most harrowing night of my life.

I lost my family to a rogue vampire, one that had been terrorizing my town for about a week before setting its sights on my home. The reasons for their choice will forever remain a mystery to me. At that moment, I lost everything and nearly lost my life as well. It was then that Sam and Dean intervened, saving me at the eleventh hour as I resigned myself to my fate. The details of that night are hazy, and I prefer to keep them that way. But what I do recall, even when I try to forget, is the sensation of lying in the back of the Impala, Sam's comforting presence as he silently held my trembling body.

Sam was my rock, a beacon of kindness and support in the aftermath of my tragedy. He refused to let me drown in despair, always there to gently nudge me towards self-care, ensuring I ate and got out of bed, even when the world felt like it was collapsing around me. In Sam, I found solace and a sense of belonging, a reminder that I wasn't alone in the dark. Dean, on the other hand, was an enigma. Beneath his tough exterior, I sensed a tender heart, a vulnerability he seldom revealed. I knew he cared for me, just as Sam did, but his approach was more guarded, more hesitant. It was as if he struggled to find the right words, the right way to express his concern for me, a stranger whose life had become entwined with theirs after what, to them, was just another case.

Dean was reserved, his approach cautious and measured, especially considering all I had just endured. His way of showing compassion was subtle yet profound, offering silent support, giving me space when I needed it, and denying me space when he knew it wasn't good for me. For all they had done for me, I felt a love unlike any I had ever known. It was a love that transcended blood, a bond forged in the fires of hardship and loss.

When I lost my family, I believed I would never experience that kind of connection again, and that I would spend the rest of my life alone and disconnected. I thought holidays would be empty, void of meaning. But the Winchester brothers showed me that the bond of a chosen family can be just as strong, if not stronger, than the ties of blood. They taught me the true meaning of "the Blood of the Covenant is thicker than the water of the womb." My hands wandered up to the side of Baby, absent-mindedly tracing circles lightly in the thin layer of dust on her exterior. Thoughts of Dean flooded my mind, his love for this car evident in every lovingly maintained detail. I chuckled softly, a fond smile tugging at my lips as I marveled at how this car could always lift his spirits, just as he had done for me so many times. As I continue lingering on that thought for a moment longer, I am snapped back to by a sudden voice.

In the warmth of the afternoon sun, Dean's teasing words danced through the air, his playful tone echoing with affection. "That's where the hell you've been the whole time?" he chided lightly, his voice carrying a melody of lightheartedness. "I was about to start up a search party looking for you." Though his smile radiated warmth, there lingered a glint of concern in his eyes, a silent plea for reassurance.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his jest, my heart swelling with fondness. "Just enjoying the nice day, no case, no research, and a warm breeze," I replied, my voice soft with contentment. A beam of happiness graced my lips as I finished speaking, the simplicity of the moment washing over me. As my laughter mingled with the gentle breeze, Dean's shoulders slightly relaxed, a subtle release of tension I hadn't noticed before. With a sense of serenity, I straightened myself, the day's dust clinging to my clothes like a reminder of our shared adventures.

I turned to face him, “Apologies, did I worry you, Mr. Winchester?” I teased him lightly, catching his gaze momentarily, our eyes lingering for just a moment. “Well,” he laughed and shifted slightly in discomfort “just don’t like to worry, you know?” He looked down, flickering his eyes back up to meet mine. His striking eyes captured mine once more, pausing briefly before he tugged his gaze away towards the bunker door. “Sam and I just finished cooking, Sammy wasn’t interested in another night of Diner food,” he laughed more light-heartedly than before, “and I figured you’d want to enjoy my homecooked burgers before they got cold.” He shot me a smirk, Dean was fully aware of my love for his cooking, especially his burgers. They were a million times better than one from any of the hundreds of restaurants you guys have eaten at across the country.  “You got me there,” I giggled slightly, following Dean inside.

"Oh, Dean," I let out a small gasp of pleasure as I chewed my first bite, savoring the taste of his culinary masterpiece. "This burger is amazing," I exclaimed with my mouth full, unable to contain my appreciation for the dinner he helped prepare. I closed my eyes, relishing each bite as I ate slowly, letting the flavors dance on my tongue. "I swear, you get better every time," I added after taking another bite, savoring the moment. I took a sip of the Kombucha I had swiped from Sam, enjoying the raspberry hibiscus flavor he had deemed unsuitable. Dean smirked at me, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I'd love to hear you say that again," he teased, winking at me “But I’d like to hear it in another context.” A warm flush crept up my cheeks at his words, his playful banter never failing to send flutters through my body. Though I knew he was joking, the sincerity in his eyes made my heart skip a beat.

I averted my gaze, striking up a conversation with Sam to avoid more flirtatious joke from Dean. "Sammy, thank you for letting me drink the Raspberry Hibiscus ones, I really like them," I said, raising my half empty kombucha bottle in a slight cheers gesture and giving him a playful smile.

"Of course," Sam chuckled. He shifted gears, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Hey, I was thinking about going out, maybe bar hop a little tonight. You down to come with me?" he asked, his gaze flickering between mine as he waited for my reply. I knew I didn't have the social battery for a night out; I had spent most of the morning doing some much-needed deep cleaning in the bunker.

"Actually," I began, my voice playful but resolute, "I think I'll pass on the booze, and hooking up with strangers for tonight. Cleaning up after you and your brother's messy acts has left me utterly exhausted." I rolled my eyes with exaggerated flair, making it clear that my words were laced with affectionate exasperation. Teasing the boys was always a delightful game; it was our unspoken way of showing how much we cared.

Turning to Dean, I pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You," I chided, a smile playing at my lips, "need to stop leaving your dirty clothes strewn about. I washed, dried, and folded them," I paused, letting the weight of my words sink in, "but if you continue leaving them everywhere, I might just have to start tossing them out." It was a lighthearted threat, and I knew I would inevitably find myself doing both Sam and Dean’s laundry again soon. But it was all part of our dynamic, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Teasing Dean always brought a sense of warmth to my heart; he was so much more animated than Sam.

"You wouldn’t!" Dean gasped; his tone mockingly scandalized. He played along with my joke, knowing full well that I would never actually discard any of his clothes, except, perhaps, those stained with blood from our hunts.

"Will you stop leaving your dirty clothes on the floor then?" I said through a smirk.

Dean paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he responded. "I think it would be much more fun if both of our clothes ended up on the floor," he winked at me, his innuendo not at all subtle. Dean had a knack for turning anything into a suggestive remark. It was one of the things I found both exasperating and endearing about him.

"Douchebag Jar!" I exclaimed, pointing at him, unmoved by his pleading eyes.

"What! Oh, come on, Y/N, it's all in good fun," Dean protested, flashing a charming smile, hoping to escape my playful reprimand.

"Nope, sorry Dean, rules are rules, and you already hit your dirty joke quota for the night" I replied firmly, crossing my arms with mock seriousness. "Right, Sam?" I turned to Sam, who was grinning and clearly enjoying the banter. "She’s right, Dean, rules are rules. You owe a dollar to the Douchebag Jar. Maybe consider not making dirty jokes all the time, and you wouldn’t lose all your money to it." The jar was filling up fast again, thanks to Dean's basically daily innuendos. He always had another dirty joke or pick up line his sleeve, ready to blurt it out the second someone slips up and says something slightly suggestive. It was a wicked game to him, regardless of how innocent and respectful his behavior with me actually was. It wasn’t like Dean to ever mean it, Whenever he whipped one of his classic dirty jokes, his eyes crinkled and his face slowly morphed into a mischievous smile. I knew he only did it to get a ride out of me, and it’s not like he can direct all of his flirtatious energy at Sammy right?

I would, however, be a liar if I tried to claim his words never brought butterflies to my stomach, I know it’s just jokes, but something in his eyes makes them feel that much more real…

“Sammy!” Dean exclaimed dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock despair and snapping back from my wondering thoughts.

“Sorry, Dean, but rules are rules," I said, a hint of amusement in my tone. "You can't escape the Douchebag Jar that easily." I watched as Dean fished out a dollar, grumbling playfully as he dropped it into the jar.

"Happy now?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Ecstatic," I replied with a grin, the tension of the moment melting away. "Now, what do you say we watch a movie or something? I haven’t had my semi-monthly Pride and Prejudice screening." My eyes twinkled mischievously, knowing full well how much Dean despised anything remotely related to period dramas.

#dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean x reader #Dean Winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #Sam Winchester #Castiel #spn text post #Facfiction

[just-a-girl-who-wrytes]

Day off with Deac

@dizzybee03 - enjoy love! <3

“Good morning, trouble,” David said to you once you made it downstairs after you woke up from your post-shift nap. “How was your shift last night?” 

You glared at him and looked at your watch. “Considering it’s 2 p.m.?”

He laughed and handed you a bowl of cereal. 

“Rough shift?” 

“It was a blast – shootings, stabbings, and STEMIs, oh my!”  Your roommate laughed at you and shook his head. 

“Lay person language – please.” 

“Heart attacks, Deac. We had two shootings, an unrelated stabbing, and then a woman having a heart attack.” 

He held his hands up in surrender. “I just asked!” He took a sip of his coffee, “You and your shit ass calls.”

“You know I trained my ass off to take care of the sickest of the sick. I love getting the ability to do that when it comes around. The same as you cops and your adrenaline rushes. What are you doing home anyways?” 

“I’m off today, decided to take it and be lazy.” 

You looked suspiciously at your roommate. It was unlike him to just take a lazy day. He didn’t do that. But, you dismissed it. You met Deacon in school. He was in his BLET program while you were in paramedic school. Your classes trained together several times and you two simply became close. There was never a specific rhyme or reason other than your spirits meshed well together. You two began hanging out while in school grew extremely close. You started working in the same county which meant you ran a lot of calls together. You were broken hearted when Deacon left to go to a SWAT academy and advance his career with special training, but when he returned, the two of you picked up right where you left off as if there had been no hiatus. After several failed relationships on both of your parts, the two of you decided to move in together. The relationship between the two of you had been platonic, however, you couldn’t help but notice that things had recently become rather flirtatious between you two. 

“What are your plans for today?” Deacon asked you, looking over the rim of his coffee cup. 

“I hadn’t necessarily made any.” 

“Hang out with me?”  “And what makes you so special that I would spend my empty day with you?” You teased. 

You took a bite of your cereal and Deacon feigned a hurt look. 

“You know you’ve missed me these past few weeks that we’ve barely seen each other.” 

You paused and thought about it. He wasn’t wrong. Your time together lacked in quantity, but it had made up in quality. You would catch Deacon eyeing you in passing and even more noticeable was when you ran calls together. He was always more than willing to help you out with your patients and you always found him close to you in the back of the ambulance. Granted, some calls didn’t allow for personal space for anyone involved – personnel or patient, but the vibe with your roommate was… different. 

He began walking around your house together in a towel after showers as opposed to the shorts and shirt he used to put on. He would playfully tickle you or grace his fingers across your arms or waist. He would snapchat you pictures of him in his uniform while on duty and you couldn’t deny that he looked delectable. He knew it. You knew it. He knew that you knew it. So you began returning the favors in returned pictures in your own uniform – occasionally in your undershirt with the best angle of your cleavage. 

You couldn’t remember when you two began spiraling into the friends with benefits status that was inevitable. The only thing? You hadn’t gotten the benefits yet. It didn’t take long to convince yourself that spending your day off with Deacon may not be a bad idea after all. 

“Fine, but only if I get to pick the movie we watch.”

Deacon winked and pointed a finger at you, “Promise it will be a scary movie so you’ll snuggle up to me, bury your face in my neck, and pretend you’re scared?” 

You raised both eyebrows at Deacon. He was being rather forward today. Not that you minded. 

As you snuggled up onto the couch with him, you caught a hint of bourbon on his breath. 

“What’s got you so suddenly brave today?” You asked him, poking his bottom lip with your finger, hinting that you smelled the alcohol on his breath. 

“Man can’t enjoy a drink on his day off?” 

You felt him snake his fingers up underneath the hem of your t-shirt. He squeezed your hip. 

You mimicked his behavior and teased his lower abdominal muscles with your fingertips underneath of his shirt. His moan at your touch was not lost on you. 

“Mmm,” you hummed, “Have I struck a nerve?” 

“Not yet,” he teased, “Gotta keep going to find it.” 

His voice was nearly an octave deeper as he watched you watch your hand disappear underneath of his shirt. 

You didn’t stop until you reached his pec. You teased his nipple with your fingertips and giggled when you noticed his breath hitch. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked sensually. 

“Such a big… strong… man, so easily unraveled with just…” you softly trailed your hand from one side of his chest to the other, “one… simple… touch.” 

He inhaled sharply. “Not just any touch.” 

“Yeah?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“Yeah…” 

He suddenly wrapped his hand around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure, pushing you back on the couch as he climbed on top of you. He lowered his face to yours and you were slightly disappointed when he didn’t immediately kiss you. 

He spoke as he exhaled, his lips meeting yours as soon as the last word left his mouth – 

“Only by your touch.”

#christina alonso #dominic luca #david kay #hondo harrelson #david deacon kay #jay harrington #imagine #jim street #swat #swat cbs #hondo #tan #victor #victor tan #deac #chris #facfiction #writing #deacon x reader

[viviuxd]

MY CUTE SWAN

SYPNOSIS: After your ballet dance you meet again with your older brother, and his best friend, with whom you have been in love since childhood.

PAIRING:boxer x female reader

TW:none!

NA:English and Spanish/inglés y español

"My brother brought his friend!" You shook your friend vigorously, nervous about approaching him. You had seen him a couple of times at your house and secretly harbored a crush on him.

"Did you see him? He's so cute." You twirled around in your lovely tutu, excited to see him there. "I think he was looking at me."

"I'm sure that guy will fall for you, you look super cute. I bet he won't be able to resist you." Your friend grabbed your shoulders tightly, more excited than you. "And I think he's coming!" She let out a small squeal and winked at you before running off.

You glanced to the side and saw your older brother and his best friend walking towards you. Your heart raced wildly as you saw the guy you'd secretly liked since childhood holding a bouquet of roses. You smiled as you approached your brother to greet him with a tight hug.

"I thought you might not make it..." You murmured as he hugged you tightly, lifting you in the air with a big smile on his face.

"I'm the boss, I can leave whenever I want, little sis." He gently put you down, looking at you fondly. It had been months since they last saw each other.

You smiled at your brother, missing him, but the laughter of your crush interrupted the reunion and made your stomach churn, like butterflies fluttering inside. You turned to him, trembling with nerves.

"Hello..." You greeted, your voice sounding like that of a little girl. You hated how your voice changed when you spoke to him.

"You look pretty," he mentioned, smiling at you, a genuine smile. You wished to kiss him right then. He looked you up and down with seriousness. "Pink suits you."

You swallowed hard, even more nervous at his compliments. You had never had such a long conversation with him. You glanced at the roses unintentionally, not wanting to show your exhaustion in front of everyone.

He smiled mockingly as he extended his hand to give you the roses. "A gift for you, you did great on stage." He leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. Your brother quickly frowned and pulled him back, murmuring, "don't pull your stunts in front of me." Your brother dragged him off the stage, leaving you alone again, but happy about your first interaction.

Quickly, you ran to change. You put on comfortable clothes, as your brother had told you they would go out after your dance. You were excited to spend time with his friend more than with him.

MI LINDO CISNE

SYPNOSIS: Después de tu baile de ballet te reencuentras con tu hermano mayor y su mejor amigo, de quien estás enamorado desde la infancia.

EMPAREJAMIENTO: Boxeador x Lectora

TW: ninguna!

"¡Mi hermano trajo a su amigo!" Sacudiste con fuerza a tu amiga, nerviosa por acercarte a él. Lo habías visto un par de veces en tu casa y estabas secretamente enamorada de él.

"¿Lo viste? Es suuuper lindo." Diste vueltas con tu lindo tutú, emocionada por verlo allí. "Creo que me estaba viendo."

"Estoy segura de que ese chico se enamorará de ti, te ves super linda. Apuesto a que no va a poder resistirse a ti." Dijo tu amiga agarrándote de los hombros con fuerza, más emocionada que tú. "¡Y creo que ya viene!" Ella soltó un pequeño grito y te guiñó el ojo antes de salir corriendo.

Miraste hacia un lado y viste a tu hermano mayor y su mejor amigo caminando hacia ti. Tu corazón latió desenfrenadamente al ver cómo el chico que te gustaba desde pequeña tenía un ramo de rosas en la mano. Sonreíste al verlo y te acercaste a tu hermano para recibirlo con un gran abrazo.

"Pensé que no podrías venir..." Murmuraste mientras él te abrazaba fuertemente, levantándote por el aire con una gran sonrisa en el rostro.

"Soy el jefe, puedo salir cuando yo desee, hermanita." Te bajó delicadamente, mirándote con cariño. Hacía meses que no se veían.

Sonreíste mirando a tu hermano, lo extrañabas, pero la risa de tu amor platónico interrumpió el momento de reencuentro y hizo que tu estómago se revolviera, como mariposas en el estómago. Volteaste a verlo, temblando por los nervios.

"Hola..." Saludaste, tu voz sonaba como la de una niña pequeña, odiabas cómo tu voz cambiaba cuando hablabas con él.

"Te ves linda", mencionó sonriéndote, una sonrisa genuina. Deseabas besarle en ese momento. Él te miró de arriba a abajo con seriedad. "Te queda bien el rosa."

Tragaste fuerte, aún más nerviosa por sus halagos. Jamás habías tenido una conversación tan larga con él. Miraste las rosas sin querer, no querías mostrar tu fatiga frente a todos.

Él sonrió burlesco mientras extendía su mano para darte las rosas. "Un regalo para ti, estuviste muy bien en el escenario." Se acercó para darte un rápido beso en la mejilla. Tu hermano rápidamente frunció el ceño y lo jaló hacia atrás, murmurándole "no hagas tus estupideces delante de mí." Tu hermano lo arrastró fuera del escenario, dejándote nuevamente sola, pero feliz por su primer acercamiento.

Rápidamente, corriste a cambiarte. Te pusiste ropa cómoda, ya que tu hermano te había dicho que saldrían después de tu baile. Estabas emocionada por pasar tiempo con su amigo más que con él.

#fanfic #original fanfiction #headcanon #lovers #boxer x reader #fem reader #original works #lector femenino #forbidden love #amor prohibido #boxeador x lector #boxeador #facfiction #trabajo original #fem!reader #lectora #amor adolescente #bailarina de ballet #ballet

[icy-bluez]

Shadowed Dreams

Characters: Kaeya, Albedo, Diluc, Zhongli

Warnings: Angst to comfort, Something similar to a panic attack(?), Suggestive (Zh)

Synopsis: Jolting awake from dreams turned into horrors, you look for comfort in the arms of your beloved.

A/N: i'm really sorry but I'm not entirely sure why Zhongli's one turned out like it did O_O.

Kaeya:

You woke up with a start. Half-remembered shadows still plagued your mind as you tried to get your bearings through the haze. You were breathing too fast and your heart thudded against your chest. Trying to stay grounded you gripped the sheets until your knuckles went white. Your throat burned with emotions that you struggled to conceal. Kaeya woke beside you.

"Y/N?" He muttered, his voice drowsy as he rose to turn the dim light of the night lamp on. He shifted towards you. His expression morphed from confusion to horror and finally to worry, a calloused palm cupped your cheek, it's familiarity fighting to keep your fears at bay. Not being able to hold in your pain any longer, your body went lax, dropping towards him. You pressed your face onto his chest and started crying.

Immediately his hands were around you, pulling you in. Fingers rising from your cheek to your temple, finally curling around your head.

"Archons... you're okay...I'm here." He didnt ask you anything as you cried. It was only after your cries had turned to shallow sniffs of air did he say "If you want to talk about it, I'll listen love." He gently stroked your hair a melancholic smile on his face, but you couldn't look. You didn't want him to see your red-rimmed eyes and still escaping tears, influenced by something that your brain projected and wasn't even real.

"I-I just had a bad dream..." you sighed. Your body relaxing further when the both of you dropped down to lay onto the bed. "Kaeya, I keep seeing them hurt you...I don't, I don't want to deal with this..." you sniffed.

"Hey...I'm right here, in your arms safe and sound, sweetheart." Kaeya said, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. You nodded, grip tightening on his clothes. Kaeya's heart filled with love. Kissing your forehead, he whispered, "Sleep now, dear. I'll keep the nightmares away." You sighed contently and he knew it deep in his bones that no matter what happened, he would never let you go. He would protect you, love you and adore you. Though he was never sure of it before because you were too good to be true, now as he felt you kiss his heart, he knew you would always do the same.

Albedo:

Albedo was still awake when he saw you jolt upright on the bed. He rose from his chair, dropping his pen onto the stack of documents before cupping your face in his palms.

"Y/N...what-" you didn't let him finish before you threw your arms around his neck, fingers tightening on his clothes as if they were your lifeline. He kissed the crown of your head, albeit awkwardly. Albedo wasn't used to being comforted or comforting someone but he still tried when it was you. An unnamed emotion pierced around his heart like rose thorns as he heard you cry, gently rocking you back and forth. When you had calmed down, he gently stroked your hair as you relaxed between his arms.

"Was it a bad dream?" He asked.

You nodded.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Couple of weeks now..."

He felt his heart break, etching frowns over his stoic expression. You would sometimes sit beside him, at his worktable on nights when the moon was too high or when shadows deepened from the sun's flickering rays at the horizon. How had he not noticed? Was he that invested in his work?

"You could have told me about this." He met your gaze with a worried expression as you raised your head towards him.

"You were...busy and focused and I, well, I didn't want to bother you."

"You're not a bother, you do realize that right, love?"

"....."

"I always have time for you Y/N. I'm sorry if I've seemed distant for a while now...I should have noticed."

"Come on...don't blame yourself."

Albedo rested his forehead against yours. You sighed as a smile creeped up your face. Albedo kissed your forehead and then enveloped your lips in a gentle, sweet kiss.

"Mind if I lay down next to you?" Albedo asked you. You pulled him down with you onto the bed knowing he wanted to stay so he could take care of you. Your heart bloomed with adoration for him. His arms rested around your body, pulling you to his chest and resting his chin on top of you head.

"Goodnight Y/N. Nothing's going to happen, I'm here for you."

Diluc:

"Hey..." You whispered from the doorway which trickled light into the dark hallway you had just walked through. Your bare feet making the wood flooring creak slightly and the blanket on your shoulder doing little to nothing to warm your shivering frame, from fear and the cold. Diluc looked up from his desk to see you peeking from behind the door of his study.

"Y/N? You shouldn't be awake, it's past midnight."

"So should you." You said with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. That didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Is something the matter, dear?" Diluc asked as you made your way toward him. The pull of an abandoned chair in the corner scraped against the wood, stopping beside Diluc so you could take a seat on it. You saw him turn towards you from the corner of your eye.

"I just wanted to see you." You replied. The warm light of the study painting your face in shades of orange and gold.

"Did something happen?" He repeated his question.

Your eyes started filling up, glistening with unshed tears and you rested your head on his shoulder. Seeking comfort in his presence, in the way he turned his body towards you, wrapping your frame onto his warm body, the way he squeezed your palm with the leather on his.

"Y/N...?" Voice laced with worry he picked you up and placed you on his lap, enveloping you with his body. "What's wrong, love?" He whispered.

"Just bad dreams..." You cried softly, strands of your hair falling onto his neck and over your eyes. He pushed them. Fingers gently rubbed away your tears as kisses were showered on your face.

"I'm here. They were just dreams, they're not real."

You nodded, relaxing when your body warmed and the shivering stopped, thanks to Diluc.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, chin on top of your head. You told him about your dreams, what haunted your sleep. He listened intently, occasionally squeezing your palm to reassure you.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?"

"Only if you come with me." You raised your head to look at him.

"But of course Y/N." The corners of his mouth raised upward, something that passed for a tender smile.

Zhongli:

"Y/N...Y/N, dear wake up." Zhongli's deep voice woke you up from your slumber. You saw him looming over you, a frown on his face, hair blocking a part of his beautiful amber eyes. His shirtless body being reflected by the night lamp on the bedside table.

"Zhongli..." You whispered through your haze, eyes widened, flashes of the imagery you witnessed in your dream world making their way to you now.

"Was it a bad dream my dear?" He asked. You rested your head on his chest and hummed your answer. He kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you.

"Would you like some warm tea, dear? It might help you feel better."

"Can I come with you?"

"I don't see why not my love." His smile was contagious.

In the kitchen, you sat on top of the kitchen counter and watched Zhongli make his signature herbal tea for you. Clinks of cutlery and soft footfalls filled your ears, away from the loud meaninglessness of your dream. Away from your fears and worries. You would make it through and Zhongli would always stay by your side. Zhongli talked about events from his day to day life and you did from yours as the beautiful smell wafting in the air got you relaxed.

"Add more sugar." You said, smiling at him.

"Are you sure? That ought to make the tea too sweet." Zhongli asked but did it anyways.

"Too-sweet tea is good. You can taste it too, it's crazy how great it is." You said, a sly plan forming in your head from your lover's obliviousness.

"If you say so, it's worth a try my love."

Zhongli placed the warm teacup on a plate and handed it to you.

"It's hot, be careful."

"So are you." You said absently, looking at your reflection in the tea.

"Y/N..." Zhongli smiled.

You took a sip of the tea and tilted your head, assessing.

"Is it too sweet?" He asked. You beckoned him forward until he was inches away from your face. Parting your lips, you kissed him, making the liquid in your mouth trickle down his throat. Zhongli grunted and cupped you cheek.

"I have to admit, sweet tea does taste great." Zhongli declared, his voice an octave lower.

"I know right..."

You wrapped you arms around his neck when his curled around your waist.

"Do you not want to sleep my love?" He asked.

"Mm...no.." you said between kisses.

"As you wish." He said before taking you to the room and locking the door.

#writers #reader x kaeya #reader x diluc #reader x albedo #reader x zhongli #fanfic #facfiction #genshin fanfic

[bruh-changbin]

ivy league

pairing: uni boyfriend!hyunjin x afab reader

genre: fluff + smut (minors dni)

warnings: fingering (f receiving), public sex, lowkey exhibitionism, oral sex (m receiving), snowballing (tis’ the season), little bit of cum eating, unprotected sex (be safe), piv, creampie, tit sucking, both are kinda switches?, alcohol consumption

word count: 5.8K

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR MOFOS!!! my new years resolution is to find out why hyunjin is so fucking hard to write for 😻 maybe it’s bc his personality is kinda all over the place or maybe i just suck but anyways i hope i did him justice. (also for the sake of this fic pls pretend he still has long brown hair bc that was my fav look on him ever)i do apologize as this was supposed to be posted right after new years but i have been a busy busy gal as of late. nevertheless, i hope you enjoy (also apologies if this posts weird tumblr is being A MAJOR PAIN IN THE ASS AS I TRY TO EDIT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

photos not mine, credit to original owners (retrieved from pinterest)

studying away from home was always a dream of yours. there’s something so enticing about living and learning in a new city that piques your interest. when you got an acceptance letter from an ivy league school a few hours away from your hometown, you didn’t think twice before enrolling. 

only then did you find out that 90% of the student body at ivy league schools - or any high status campus, really - are insufferable. there are wannabe jane austen’s and christopher nolan’s at every turn, griping about how getting a 98% on their most recent paper just isn’t good enough (news flash: it is). 

ergo, every time you’ve tried to befriend someone you met in the student centre or library or in one of your lectures you’ve discovered they’re too obsessed with their status to even hold a proper conversation with you. there’s only one person who makes studying here at least somewhat bearable: hwang hyunjin.

you met hyunjin in september, a mere 2 days before classes were set to begin for the fall semester. it was somewhat unfortunate, your first encounter, seeing as it entailed you spilling your iced french vanilla all over hyunjin’s silky white button up top. you were trying to shove your wallet back into your bag as you left a coffee shop and he was enthralled in his phone, both of you too distracted to notice the other before colliding. 

you both apologized profusely, you for being careless and him for being in the way (he wasn’t) until you insisted he came to your apartment to get cleaned up since it’s only a 3 minute walk away, i feel horrible for ruining your clothes. 

he complied, and you led him to your small studio apartment, giving him some privacy to shower and steal whatever clothes in your closet that fit him. 

when he stepped out of your bathroom, hair still damp and skin glowing, the rounds of i’m so sorry’s started up again as you handed him back his shirt, now with a large coffee stain on the chest that even your tide pen couldn’t tackle. he grabbed his shirt before chuckling, revealing that he too was a frequent customer of the cafe you were at and often opted to go there instead of indulging in the overpriced shit they sell on campus. 

upon discovering that you were both students at the same university you got to talking, which led to hyunjin staying for dinner at your place, which led to an impromptu make-out session on your second-hand couch. when you made it known that you wanted to take things further, he initially declined because hey, i’m not that kind of guy. in the end he couldn’t keep his hands off of you and you were more than happy to lead him down the hallway to your bedroom. 

soon after he had you writhing under your cotton bed sheets while making you cum on his tongue… and his fingers and his cock. his shaggy, shoulder length mocha hair felt like silk in between your fingers and the whines and whimpers he let out when you tugged on it sounded like heaven.

so, your first encounter with hyunjin was a catastrophe turned fuck session turned we should do this again sometime…

now it’s the heart of winter and you’re about to sock your boyfriend in the jaw when you see him leaning against the brick exterior of your lecture hall, the tips of his ears stained cherry red and his breath passing his lips in the form of a cloud.

“hyunjin i told you to stop waiting for me outside of my lecture hall’s, you’re seriously gonna get frostbite!” you emphasize by pinching his frozen ears - he winces.

“what happened to hello? how are you?” he complains before slipping his hand into the pocket of your puffer jacket and intertwining his fingers with yours; his hands are so cold you flinch.

“well sorry i don’t want you to get sick,” you roll your eyes while shoving your headphones into your tote bag, not needing them now that hyunjin has graced you with his presence, “and you know that class always puts me in a bad mood.”

“ahh yes that’s the one with the, what was it, douchey prof and even douchier students, right?”

“that’s the one.” you sniffle, nose going numb from the cold wind biting at your face as you let hyunjin drag you across campus to god knows where.

“well turn that frown upside down, i’m about to treat you to the most romantic study date ever,” hyunjin asserts while pulling you in the direction of the student lounge, careful not to walk too quickly so you don’t slip on the ice hidden underneath the blanket of snow on the ground.

although the trek from your lecture hall to the student common room is quite short, only subjecting you to the outside weather conditions for a mere minute or two, you rejoice when you step inside and regain shelter from the cold. a blast of hot air greets you and hyunjin shakes the snow off of his perfectly styled hair, retracting his hand from your jacket pocket.

the two of you make your way down the corridor before waltzing into the main study area of the student lounge, seating yourself on a worn in brown leather couch. 

once your winter jacket is discarded you pull your textbook out of your bag, using your peripherals to watch hyunjin pull out his laptop and begin editing photos for his photography class.

it’s serene; watching the snow fall through the window to your left, feeling the warmth radiating from hyunjin who’s sitting to your right. the feeling of hyunjin’s hand (which is still quite cold) on your knee comforts you and you immerse yourself in the words of your textbook, wanting to catch up on the chapters you were supposed to read for this week but didn’t have the time or patience to.

alas, you should’ve known that hyunjin had… other intentions when he said he was taking you on the most romantic study date ever. it only takes a few minutes before you feel his hand inching its way up your leg. 

his eager fingers dance across your thigh before groping your pelvis, causing you to clamp your legs shut in surprise, trapping your boyfriend’s hand in between them.

“are you fucking kidding me hyunjin? we’re in public…”

hyunjin scans the vicinity of the student lounge, which, admittedly, there are only two other students present, both so absorbed in their respective textbooks that they’re practically drooling. but that doesn’t mean you’re about to let him finger bang you in a public area in front of your fellow students. 

“what, you don’t wanna show everyone how well you take my fingers?” by now his index and middle fingers are playing with the waistband of your panties, waiting for you to give the go ahead before dipping underneath.

“come on, let me play with you.”

try as you may, you can’t resist the twisting of your stomach and the pitter-patter of your heart at hyunjin’s words. by now your pussy is leaking indefinitely and you shift in your spot in a pathetic attempt to alleviate the dull throbbing you feel in your pelvis.  

the more you squirm the more pressure you feel from hyunjin’s hand trapped in between your thighs, the heel of his palm pushing against your cunt that’s becoming more sensitive by the second. 

a pleasure induced haze clouds your brain and soon enough you’ve convinced yourself that hyunjin fingering you in the student lounge is in fact a good idea. it’s not like anyone can see you, right? you’re sandwiched between the wall and hyunjin, who’s broad shoulders block you from the curious gaze of others - no one would be the wiser. 

with a bashful look on your face you ease your legs open, granting hyunjin access to your sticky panties and aching clit. the dexterity in which hyunjin’s hand pushes past your waistband and into the dripping folds of your cunt almost gives you whiplash.  

like the little bitch he is he teases you for several moments, the tip of his index finger drawing lazy circles around your clit before gliding down to your hole and then back up again, never giving you what you actually want. 

you know hyunjin’s enjoying watching you twitch and shift in your seat as he plays with your cunt; even more so does he enjoy watching you bite back a frustrated whine when he pulls his hand from you entirely, takes a second to coat his digits in his own saliva by sucking on them, and shove his hand back down your pants.

with help from hyunjin’s makeshift lube his slender spit-covered fingers slip inside of you with little resistance, causing your stomach to flutter and churn. the stretch is subtle yet pleasurable and your body automatically folds in on itself: head hung low, knees knocking together, back hunched. 

if anyone were to walk by they would hopefully assume that you’re just worn out from the end of semester stress and not clue in on the fact that your boyfriend is knuckle deep in your pussy. 

hyunjin starts with small movements, his finger gliding in and out of you slowly while curling upwards in a ‘come-hither’ type motion. he’s trying to make his movements as undetectable as possible, struggling against your tight cunt that sucks him in with each and every thrust of his fingers. 

lucky for you your lover was blessed with long fingers, ones that reach so deep inside of you with so little effort that it makes the room spin. little shocks rock your body when hyunjin fully sheathes his index and middle fingers inside of you, the cold metal of the rings adorning his fingers a stark contrast to your hot wet pussy.

the pace of hyunjin’s fingers quickens; your bottom lip stings from how hard you’re biting down on it. your breath leaves you in the form of forced exhales through your nose, the urge to say fuck it and moan aloud for all of your peers to hear becoming almost irresistible and you pray that hyunjin’s going to make you finish before you do something you’ll regret. 

hyunjin pushes his fingers impossibly deeper into you, the heel of his palm now providing the most delicious friction on your neglected clit. you resist the urge to grind your hips against his hand. 

“are you close?” hyunjin whispers, his plush lips caressing the shell of your ear and sending shivers down your spine. how long has his face been that close to yours? you think, but you’re too out of it to turn your thoughts into words. you just nod frantically, eyes rolling backwards as your impending orgasm looms closer and closer.

the sensation of hyunjin’s fingers pistoning in and of you and his palm bumping your clit is enough to quickly send you over the edge, biting the inside of your cheek so hard you can taste the metallic tang of blood against your tongue. 

you cream all over his fingers while sucking in a breath so big it hurts your lungs so as to prevent yourself from making any noise. the grip you have on hyunjins wrist goes limp and you wince as he pulls his fingers from you, placing a chaste kiss on your temple as if to say i’m proud of you. 

with that hyunjin casually sucks your wetness from his fingers, briefly wiping them on his pants before returning to editing his photos on his laptop. you struggle to regain your focus on the textbook splayed out in front of you, the pages swimming before your eyes as the pleasure in the pit of your stomach slowly subsides.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“i still don’t understand why you were so adamant about using my kitchen to bake instead of yours.”

hyunjin glances up from his phone at your words, his pupils so dark they remind you of tapioca pearls. 

“i live with three frat guys, my kitchen is a biohazard.”

ah yes, that’s right. hyunjin’s roommates, although very nice guys who treat you with respect, are frat guys nonetheless. chan is the cleanest of them all, although that's mostly due to him eating out the majority of the time. changbin and jisung however…

you raise your hands in defence, shuddering at the thought of the army of glasses filled with stale protein shakes that greeted you the last time you ventured into hyunjin’s apartment.

upon seeing you wash your hands in preparation for baking hyunjin joins you behind the kitchen counter. his ring-clad fingers roll up the sleeves of his white long sleeve top before tucking the stray hairs in front of his face behind his ears. 

“alright, what are we baking?” he says with his game-face on.

“i was thinking we could do gingerbread… you know, since it’s the holidays.” you begin to search for a recipe on your phone.

hyunjin makes a sour face at this: lips puckered, brows furrowed, eyelids lowered. dramatic. “i don’t like gingerbread,” he states.

“oh? why not?”

“it’s too spicy.”

this motherfucker…

“...spicy? what are you, twelve?”

“i have a sensitive palate!” your boyfriend whines like a toddler. 

“shut the fuck up hwang, we’re making gingerbread.”

hyunjin hangs his head in defeat while you trifle through your cupboards for the proper ingredients. soon enough a small pile is formed on your countertop and you begin sorting everything in order to start baking. a slender hand caresses your lower back and you jump slightly.

“you know it kinda turns me on when you’re all authoritative like that…”

of course. leave it to hyunjin to get horny at literally any hour of the day. 

“you’re insufferable. does hyunjin jr. ever take a day off?”

hyunjin scoffs, “he does, actually. remember the day you were so swamped with the paper you were writing and me, being the best boyfriend ever, had the decency to not try to get in your pants so you could focus?”

“wow, so chivalrous.”

hyunjin playfully shoves your head and then pats your hair as if to assure you his teasing is all in good fun (you know it is).

for someone who was so adamant about baking for the holidays, hyunjin is incredibly inept in the kitchen. first he adds baking powder to the mixing bowl instead of baking soda, then proceeds to knock over your precious bottle of pure vanilla extract, followed by him getting molasses on his tongue and wailing in disgust because it tastes like straight ass! this is all tied together by him spilling flour all over your countertops because why the fuck not. 

“remind me to never allow you to have access to my kitchen ever again,” you huff in frustration while rolling out your batter, a thin layer of sweat forming on your upper lip.

“why? I’m having fun… are you not having fun?” a cheeky grin is plastered across his face as he places his hand on the flour-covered counter before smacking your ass so hard you shriek. whipping your head around, you gape at the perfect flour handprint imprinted on the seat of your favourite pair of pants. 

“WHAT THE FUCK HYUNJIN!!???” you shove his chest before frantically dusting the flour off of your rear. hyunjin can’t seem to control his laughter.

“payback!” he says cheerily while wiping his hands on the hem of his shirt. by now the smell and taste of flour has filled the air of your kitchen. 

“payback for what you dipshit??”

he smiles, “for when you spilled coffee on my shirt.”

“are you fucking kidding me hwang? that was like four months ago!” you return to kneading the dough in front of you, although now you do so with much more aggression, “need i remind you that the coffee incident is how we met in the first place?”

“i knowww~” his palm glides across your upper back in a soothing motion before he rests his chin your your shoulder, “i’m just teasing.”

you bite back a smile before glancing at hyunjin perched on your shoulder, his squishy cheeks matching the soft gaze of his eyes. domestic bliss. you continue to knead the dough in front of you until it’s ready to be rolled out.

when you turn to look at hyunjin again he’s leaning into you even more, pink lips puckered slightly and eyelids closed causing his lashes to grace the tops of his cheeks.

you throw flour in his face.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it’s new years eve and you don’t know what to wear.

“just throw on something skimpy and call it a day,” jeongin says through the speaker of your phone, “you’re supposed to be here in like an hour, remember?”

“i can get ready in an hour,” you respond while holding various garments up to your body and gazing at your reflection in the mirror. so many options, so little time.

“i don’t know about that y/n, remember halloween?”

you do remember halloween. more specifically, you remember jeongin whining and bitching for the entirety of the two and a half hours it took for you to transform yourself into ty lee from avatar: the last airbender. it was worth it though, you looked exactly like her. 

“come on, that was a one time thing. i’ll be at your place on time!” you whine while tossing an unworthy crop top onto the pile of clothes on your floor that’s steadily increasing.

“i don’t know y/n you’re pretty indecisive and-” you hang up on him, not wanting to hear him bitch and whine about your inability to make even the most minuscule decisions. 

it takes you half an hour to choose the perfect outfit, and then another half hour to do your makeup and hair, followed by a fifteen minute stare-down with your reflection in the mirror as you question everything. is this really the best look i can come up with? your head hurts and you haven’t even started drinking yet. 

“y/n~” hyunjin whines from his place in the living room, “are you almost ready?”

you give him a half-assed yea before exiting your bedroom, giving yourself and your outfit one final check in the mirror.

in preparation for tonight’s celebration you helped hyunjin bleach and dye his hair a shade of icy blue last night, almost permanently damaging his bathroom sink and counter in the process. his now cerulean mane matches the blue of his denim jacket that has an eye-catching collar lined with fluffy white fur (faux of course - no animal cruelty here). his pants are denim as well, a quintessential canadian tuxedo, and just a hint of silver glitter is detectable on his eyelids. you could eat him right the fuck up. 

“you look cute,” you purr before waltzing over to your boyfriend and standing in front of where he’s sat on the couch.

“as do you,” his eyes scan your body, “the five hours it took you to get ready paid off.”

“i did not take five hours to get ready hwang, you’re just impatient.” you pat his leg as if to say get off your ass, it’s time to go, prompting him to push himself off of his couch and over to the coat rack by his front door.

“this coat totally clashes with my outfit,” you complain as you pull on your thick puffer jacket.

hyunjin feigns sympathy, “it’s either that or you freeze. come on, chan’s wondering why we’re not there yet.”

hyunjin all but yanks you out the door, locking it behind him before the two of you step onto the bustling city streets that are teeming with people searching for a place to drink and celebrate. 

arriving at jeongin’s a mere couple of hours before midnight, you rid yourself of your chunky winter coat and start to mingle with the rest of the crowd. hyunjin, despite knowing more people at the party than you, stands behind you like a lost baby sheep for the entire night, waiting for you to loop him into whatever conversation you’re having. 

you briefly speak with jeongin, who teases you for arriving late (how he managed to spot you and hyunjin sneaking in later than you said you would arrive is beyond you) and then encourages you to get a drink and ‘let loose’.

in the kitchen you help yourself to whatever alcohol you can find - most of the selection isn’t to your liking and you regret not bringing your own drinks from home. nevertheless, you force some pathetic margarita mix down your throat before spotting hyunjin’s roommates, chan, changbin and jisung, in the crowd and heading over to converse with them.

time seems to fly by and soon enough there are only a few minutes left until it’s time to ring in the new year. someone, most likely felix, blasts madonna through the speakers and a livestream of the new york ball drop is displayed on the tv in the living room.

“y/n?” 

“yes hyunjin?”

he hesitates, starry eyes looking everywhere but your own, “will you be my new year’s kiss?”

you stifle a laugh; the poor boy looks like he’s about to puke after asking you that so you try your best to play nice.

“of course i will.” you caress your boyfriend's cheek ever so gently, his cheeks turning rosy and flushed as you do so.

around you the cheers from the other partygoers have increased as the countdown displayed on the tv hits the thirty second mark. as the ball descends on the screen your fingers reach for hyunjin, grasping his wrist in excitement as the two of you start to countdown alongside everyone else.

“3….2….1….HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!”

as soon as the clock strikes midnight hyunjin’s pillowy pink lips are attached to yours, capturing you in a heartfelt kiss to celebrate the ending of an old year and beginning of a new one. it would be a crime not to reciprocate so you do, only pulling away when you hear jeongin start to make gagging noises at the two of you over everyone else's cheers. 

felix jumps onto the couch and changbin uncorks a bottle of pommery cuvée louise with a celebratory pop! 

before you can approach changbin and ask for a glass of champagne that he splurged on for the special occasion, you’re being dragged down the hallway. away from the music and cheering and people and into a dark, empty bedroom; based on the decor you assume it’s felix’s.

the metallic click of a door being shut and locked echoes throughout the empty room and when you turn to face hyunjin pursues you again. away from the curious gazes of bystanders he kisses you with unrestrained passion and lust - a kiss that isn’t just a simple display of affection but a kiss that says i want this to lead to something more. 

in the confines of this empty bedroom you allow yourself to melt into his lips, his touch. you inhale his scent and push your tongue past his teeth and into his mouth, tasting a hint of the miller lite he was sipping on earlier on his tongue. with ease hyunjin makes his way down your jaw and to your neck, placing affectionate open mouth kisses against the sensitive skin of your throat. occasionally you feel his canines nip you before his tongue glides over your skin.

“i’ve been wanting to be alone with you since we left the apartment,” hyunjin admits sheepishly, the ends of his hair tickling your ear.

“is that why you spent the entire night hiding behind me?”

like a deer in headlights, hyunjin freezes, “maybe…” you can feel his lips curl into a small smile from where they’re attached to your neck.

not wanting to waste any more time you shove hyunjin off of you, your hands grasping the collar of his denim jacket before dragging it down his shoulders and arms, followed by his shirt. hyunjin follows suit and moves to unbutton his jeans, pulling them down his thick thighs. now he stands in front of you wearing only his briefs, his hard cock straining against the material, the glow from the moon painting his skin a cool shade of blue.

when you step closer to him you can feel his breath fan across your face, watch his eyes swim with curiosity and enamourment, see his chest rise and fall with each and every shaky breath. your fingertips hook into the elastic waistband of his briefs, yanking them down and letting them pool at his ankles before gently guiding him to sit on the bed behind him.

now that hyunjin’s seated you move to kneel in front of him, kissing your way down the soft milky skin of his abs and around his belly button and the insides of his thighs. his cock stands fully erect, and you lick your lips before getting yourself ready to suck him off. 

when you first fucked hyunjin all those months ago you were taken aback at how perfect his cock was. not to sound cliche, but it felt as if the two of you were destined to be together with how well he fit inside of your cunt and down your throat. now, you admire him once again before licking him from base to tip.

time is of the essence you think before taking his length in your hot mouth.

over the course of time you’ve spent dating and fucking hyunjin you’ve discovered that he’s very sensitive… and very vocal. as soon as his cock is in your mouth he’s struggling to keep quiet, the veins on his neck tensing and his knuckles white as he grips the bedsheets underneath him. it’s not like anyone would hear him lest they be pressed up right against the bedroom door, but still, he tries his best to preserve at least a little bit of his dignity. 

for the sake of your throat you wrap your hand around the base of hyunjin’s dick, opting to jerk what you can’t comfortably fit in your mouth. the soft muscle of your tongue expertly wraps around his length as you begin to bob your head, starting off slow so you don’t overwhelm hyunjin (who already seems to be going into sensory overload). 

the movements of your hand are in tandem with those of your mouth, the nails that you got done for new years looking so perfect wrapped around his sensitive cock. small beads of sweat begin to form on your temple as you continue to work hyunjin to his release, not wanting to stop until he’s satisfied. your knees are already starting to ache from being pressed against the cold, hard floor but you pay the discomfort no mind.

above you, hyunjin’s struggling to keep himself under control. he’s been on edge all evening, and now that you’re having your way with him he can’t quite contain his delectation. surely there are other people fucking at this party right now, right? what does it matter if he makes a bit of noise?

fuck dignity, he wants to let you know how good you’re making him feel. 

hyunjin’s bottom lip throbs in relief when he releases it from his teeth, allowing his head to fall back while groans of pleasure shamelessly tumble from his mouth. 

your ears strain to block out the noises from the ongoing party so you can hyperfocus on every single sound that passes hyunjin’s lips. your lips wrap around his length like a glove, providing him with the most perfect amount of friction. you pick up the pace in order to get him there faster, ignoring the slight cramping in your wrist.

“y/n i-” one of his hands lets go of the duvet and wraps around the back of your head, “i think i’m gonna-” he cuts himself off with a cry of desperation. 

with reluctance you pull your lips off of his cock, continuing to jerk him with your mouth agape and tongue sticking out. with a needy, high-pitched moan that he does nothing to try to suppress, hyunjin pumps his load into your waiting mouth.

his cum is pure and white like the snow falling softly outside of the bedroom window. it sits hot and heavy on your tongue as you rise from your spot on the floor, watching with hungry eyes as hyunjin’s pink-stained chest heaves sighs of pleasure before you press your lips to his. both of your mouths open automatically, his tongue slipping past your teeth allowing him to taste himself. your tongues swap semen and saliva and you reluctantly pull away when you need to swallow and regain your breath.

the view of hyunjin panting and covered in a sheen of sweat, his own cum seeping from the corners of his mouth, is a sight to behold. you’ve never laid eyes on anything so sinful yet so holy and beautiful at the same time - your panties become unbearably wet. 

hyunjin stares at you with eagle eyes as you rid yourself of your clothing, tossing each garment on top of his so a small pile is formed on the floor. 

in one swift move you’re on top of him, knees digging into the firm mattress on either side of his bony hips. without saying a word you line his cock, that’s already semi-hard again, up with the soaked hole of your pussy before sinking down his shaft. the two of you whine and groan into eachothers mouths at the sensation, and you still when your hips are flush with his. 

“i don’t… i don’t think i’m gonna last long,” hyunjin whines so pathetically you go weak in the knees. ugh! you wanna lick him all over. 

“that’s okay,” you coo while running your fingers through his hair, “just want you to feel good.”

grasping his shoulders for stability, you temptingly grind your pelvis against his. the tip of his cock is nestled deep inside of you that it makes you feel so unbelievably full and content. it’s moments like these where you wish to be consumed by hyunjin, wish to hold him and be in his hold forever and ever. 

the slick, wet sounds of you fucking hyunjin raw fill the room, your cunt sucking him deeper and deeper with each and every roll of your hips. your vision goes blurry when he attaches his soft lips to your breast, switching between sucking on it gently and using his tongue to tease your sensitive nipple.

the soft whimpers and please go faster’s that your boyfriend emits encourage you to pick up the pace, your hip bones knocking against his with each gyration. by now your clit is begging for attention so you lower your hand to press quick, somewhat careless circles into it, hissing at the pleasure it provides. 

the need to cum begins to creep its way into your senses: your vision becomes spotted and blurry, your legs begin to quiver and shake, the pit in your lower abdomen grows bigger and bigger threatening to swallow you whole. hyunjin continues to sloppily suck on your tit, the sensation going straight to your aching cunt.

no words need to be exchanged in order for each of you to know that the other is close. it’s evident in the way your movements become more frantic desperate and in the way hyunjin’s blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs, his jaw going slack against your breast. 

a few more movements and you reach your orgasm, muffling a lewd and graphic moan by biting down on hyunjin’s shoulder. for several moments it feels as if you’re on cloud nine. sparks fly behind your closed eyelids and the ringing in your eyes is loud enough to block out the sound of the party (which you almost forgot about) but not the increasingly loud moans coming from hyunjin.  you can hear and feel him cumming a few seconds after you, his stomach tensing as he cries out for you.

he spills his seed inside of you and you shudder, feeling incredibly warm and worn out. 

with limbs feeling like lead, you lift yourself off of hyunjin before collapsing onto the mattress, the duvet cover immediately clinging to your back that’s damp with sweat. you feel hyunjin’s cum slowly begin to seep out of you and you cringe, knowing that you’re going to have to explain and apologize to felix (or whoever the owner of this room is).

beside you, hyunjin works to get his breathing back under control, his eyes closed with a blissed-out expression on his face.

“i don’t wanna get up,” he whispers into the dark room.

“so don’t.”

the two of you lie there, basking in the post-orgasm bliss that  puts you on the verge of sleep. the room smells of sex and sweat and you can’t help the small smile that makes its way onto your face, knowing that there’s no other way you’d rather spend ringing in the new year. 

you hear him moving before you feel his touch. the soft tips of his fingers caress your clammy palms before intertwining with yours, an affectionate move that has your cheeks flushing and makes you wonder how did i get so god damn lucky?

if it weren’t for hyunjin your ivy league studies would be filled with empty days and empty nights. you somehow managed to find solace in a sensitive, 5’10” boy who teases you and then whines when you tease him back. on days where the cold seems to be unbearable he keeps you warm with his skin on your skin, his lips on your lips, his heart to your heart. 

without him you’d be stuck at a prestigious school filled with prestigious people pursuing a prestigious degree that you’re not sure you even like, yet he somehow makes you forget all of that. 

and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

#stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids blurbs #stray kids x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin facfiction #hwang hyunjin blurbs

[illicitlimerence-writes]

a conversation stuck in your throat | m. verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x singer!actress!reader word count: 8.3k words request: yes, by anons: “hii! i absolutely love looove looooooooove the soft!boyfriend!max fic you posted! could you do one where him and y/n went from friends to lovers and it's y/n's first time (so their first time together as well) and max makes sure it's as sensual and loving as possible (he just wants to spoil her and show her how much he loves her)? basically lots of fluff (and smut I guess lol) 💕💕💕” & “hii hope you’re doing good! can I request a jealous max please? maybe he gets possessive and protective and it ends fluffly? idk I’m not too good at this lmaoo. thank youu <33” & “desperate making out w max v in a club? reader and him are together/best friends” & “I have a desperate need for a blurb with sick!reader and soft max taking care of her/them 🥺” & “hi babes 💗 i hope its okay to request this. i have an idea for a max v fic, inspired by dress by taylor swift? maybe they started off as best friends and then they started dating but they didn't announce it to the public so everyone just thinks they are best friends still? and maybe the golden tattoo he left on her as a mark is a tattoo reader got for him? either 'max' or '33' in golden ink? idk if this exists in real life lol. and reader is a singer and actress? this fic could maybe be little moments between them? like with time jumps but this is just an idea feel free to make it yours 💗” those were a lot of reqs wow. i hope you all like it!!!!!!!!!!! warnings: smut (18+ only, minors dni), language, christi*n h*rner (only for a tiiiny bit tho), (legal) drinking, i'm sure there's more that i missed lolol. a/n: this is one of my favorite pairings i’ve ever written. i swear. i already want to write more for these two. as always thank you to my cousin @ireallydontknowdudee for helping me proofread<3

my masterlist / / click here to read part one ‘superheroes and flat caps’ (you have to read that one first, otherwise this one won’t make much sense lolol) / / click here to listen to the playlist i made for these fics

june 30th, 2021. spielberg, austria.

the club was dark and the music was loud. there were bodies pressed together, people grinding on each other. the alcohol was present and common sense was long gone.

she had been a little apprehensive at first, she wasn’t too sure about the decision to drive to the club a few miles away from their hotel, but max had convinced her. and she’d do pretty much anything if it made max happy.

it was their first time clubbing together, and she was curious to see what type of drunk max was. since they still had to drive back, and she had to be up and presentable early the next day, they had agreed to not get too drunk. but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t have fun and enjoy the night celebrating her and her achievements.

“another one?” max’s breath on her ear made her skin get goosebumps, since the music was deafeningly loud, he had to lean incredibly close to her so she could hear him. she turned around and acted as if it didn’t affect her.

“i want tequila,” she replied, standing on her tiptoes to reach his ear. she leaned back and watched a smirk appearing on his lips. since they’d arrived max had been asking her to do tequila shots with him, since he claimed he knew a perfect method for it. she’d refused, sticking to drinks that weren’t so strong. but she wanted to please him this one time. 

“i knew you’d change your mind, come on,” he was quick to grab her hand and lead her away from the crowd of people dancing. they reached the bar and max asked for four tequila shots to be sent their way. they walked to their private booth, where they’d left their coats and her bag. the security guard that looked after that section let them in without too much trouble, they were the only vips of the night.

she sat down first, sliding on the seat until she was pressed between the wall and max’s body. she laughed at his actions, he was behaving like an excited, hyperactive kid. he leaned in to kiss her cheek, something he always did when they were alone. since the beginning of their friendship she started noticing that there were certain things that max only did with her. touching, or showing any type of physical affection was one of them. 

she didn’t find it weird or anything, she was familiar with the different types of love language, she just figured that touching was max’s. plus, she wasn’t complaining. she liked feeling loved, and that was how max made her feel. despite the short amount of time that they’d known each other, they’d grown to call each other ‘best friends’ rather quickly.

“so, what’s this great new method you were bragging about?” she leaned close to his ear.

“ah, impatient, much?” he grinned, she rolled her eyes, nudging his ribs with her elbow. “there’s really not much of a difference. it’s salt, shot, lime,”

“you do your shots with salt and lime?” she teased, raising her eyebrows, “pussy.”

“what?” max asked, taken aback.

“the best part of tequila is the burn. the ache that makes you want more, that feels so great once it’s gone, but is what keeps you going.” she spoke about tequila like one would talk about a lover, she made it feel intimate. “but fine, we’ll try your way,”

“well now my way sounds like bullshit,” max laughed, and she chuckled, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. 

“we’ll do both,” she declared, watching the bartender drop off the tray with the hard liquor. “you go first,” she encouraged him. max nodded, grabbing the salt and a slice of lime. 

“your hair,” he said, she frowned, “move your hair out of the way,” she did, throwing her hair over the other shoulder. “lean back,” he told her, holding her chin and tilting her head back, exposing her neck. 

“what are you doing?” she asked.

“do you trust me?”

“of course.”

in the dark of the club, max held the sour lime between his fingers, then ran it up and down her neck, twice. she gasped, and max could feel her breath hitching as he touched her. next, he grabbed the salt. he poured some over the line of lime juice he’d just drawn.

she turned her face lightly to see him. his eyebrows were drawn together in concentration, she could tell, just by the way he was pinching his lips together, that a million thoughts were running through his head. 

“don’t chicken out on me now,” she said, and max let out a breath of relief, he thought maybe he’d crossed a line. yes, they were close, but they’d never done something like this. 

he did it. he leaned forward, licked a stripe up her neck, felt her quickening heartbeat beneath his touch. he brought the liquor up to his lips, downing it all in one go. her soft hands grabbed the lime from his hold and lifted it up to his mouth. he sucked on it, opening his eyes after wincing as he tasted three different things in a really short time, one after the other. 

she was breathing hard, staring at him, the skin of her throat was tingling, she got lost in the blue of his eyes, which under the neon lights and combined with the darkness of the room, looked crystal clear. 

“you’re up,” max said, she smiled, and just like that, they were back to normal. 

they stumbled into her hotel floor, max was holding her waist, keeping her stable, her legs were like jello, so she kept her back pressed against max’s chest.

“i told you…” she paused to giggle, “i couldn’t drink too much,” she smiled, slapping max’s chest lightly. he was grinning, too, he had one arm around her middle, pushing her against his front as his other hand slid inside the pocket of his jeans to grab the key to her room.

“and i told you to quit after shot number three,” he raised an eyebrow as she rolled her eyes.

“boo, you whore,” she moved her head to the side so he could see her, and stuck her tongue out, max just laughed as he shook his head. he unlocked the door, opening it and letting her in first. he turned on the light, and watched her flinch and cover her eyes with her hands, “nooo, it hurts,”

“what hurts?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows at the thought of her in any sort of distress.

“my eyes, turn it off,” she peeked between her fingers, and was suddenly engulfed by darkness as he obliged, “thank youuu,” she sang, stretching the last word. “you’re the best. you, maximilian verstappen, are the best friend anyone could ever ask for.”

“thanks, right back atcha. but, you got my name wrong,” he approached her. there was light coming from the city outside, which helped guide him to her.

“what?” she frowned, tilting her head to the side.

“it’s not maximilian, it’s max emilian.” he said, slowly, and watched as her eyes flickered down to his lips, “two words,”

“hmm…” she narrowed her eyes, “i like it. emilian. it’s cute.”

“well, thank you,” he smiled. and she smiled. “now, come on, let’s get you to bed, you’ve got a big day tomorrow,” he placed his hand on her shoulder, she sighed and started walking, holding her arms out in front of her to prevent stumbling into something.

“can you come with me?”

“to bed?” he asked, chuckling. she rolled her eyes.

“to atlanta,” she sat on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. “i’m going to be all alone over there, i’ll have no one and i need my best friend,”

“well…i don’t think i can make the trip to and from in time,” even in the dark, he could see the way her face fell, “but i can drive you to the airport, would that be okay?”

“i guess…”

“hey, you’ll be fine. i have more i’d like to say but we’re both too drunk, so i’ll tell you in the morning… okay?”

“okay. in the morning.”

“yeah,” he smiled, then took a step back, “i’ll pick you up tomorrow, then,”

“no,” she said, and extended her arm, “stay.”

“well, i don’t really want to sleep on a couch, but…”

“no, dumbass,” she laughed, dropping her back down against the soft pillows and mattress, “here, the bed is big enough,” she patted the spot next to her. she was right, this bed was one of the biggest he’d ever seen.

“but you- i-”

“it’s fine. i don’t mind. as long as you don’t snore,”

“you’re lucky, then.” he gave in, climbing into bed next to her. 

-

september 1st, 2021.zandvoort, netherlands.

“why is three your favorite number?”

“what kind of question is that?” he asked. lifting his head from the arm of the couch.

they were in zandvoort, just in time for the dutch grand prix, max’s home race. it was the first time he was racing there, and he needed a good result. she’d been with him since last week, the italian grand prix, one that she hadn’t gotten to enjoy as much as she wanted to, given max’s sad result. she knew that it had gotten in his mind, he was at a critical stage of the championship, and every point counted. hence, why they were now in his hotel room, enjoying the last day of peace and quiet before the chaos that came with a new grand prix weekend. 

“i’m just preparing you for the weekend,” she responded, a smirk on her face as he rolled his eyes. she liked this, the teasing back and forth, the jokes. the trust they had on each other. 

“i swear, if i have to answer ‘what do you expect from this weekend?’ one more time i’m gonna…” he didn’t finish, just shook his head as he huffed.

“they’re just doing their jobs,” she reminded him.

“i know that. but why can they come up with new questions, actually interesting ones?”

“i don’t know dude, i haven’t done interviews in a long time,”

“lucky you,” he sighed. “it gets old, answering the same thing over and over again. and there are some people that- the way they ask, they want to get a reaction out of you. and of course i’m not going to give them the satisfaction.”

“but you’re not going to let them treat you that way,”

“yeah.”

“that’s why i like you. you have so much pressure on yourself right now, i know you feel it so don’t even try to deny it. but you’re capable of pushing it aside, that’s a great skill to have being who you are,”

“who we are,” he corrected her, “don’t forget you’re famous too, my friend,”

“yeah, whatever, but people don’t stop me for pictures as much as you.”

“give it a few months,”

“no thanks,” she laughed. “i like my life just the way it is,”

“really? you wouldn’t change anything?”

“no, i don’t think so,” she shook her head.

“nothing?” he smirked, she frowned, watching as he raised his eyebrows. “not even your… condition?”

“condition?” she asked, “i’m not sick or anything…”

“no, but you are a…” he raised his fist to his mouth, covering it, “virgin,” he coughed as he said the word.

“oh my god,” she rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow and throwing it his way. he could’ve moved, could’ve dodged it, but he let it hit his face, he grabbed it and put it on his lap. “emilian, shut the fuck up,”

“i just can’t believe you-”

“so i haven’t met the right guy, so what? it’s not that big of a deal,”

“if it’s not that big of a deal why haven’t you-”

“because it doesn’t matter! the concept of ‘virginity’ is such bullshit anyway. men and society have ruined sex for many of us, it’s gotta be more than just physical desire. and i’m not saying there’s nothing wrong with that, you do you, do whatever the hell you want to with your body and partner, or partners, as long as it’s consensual,” she ranted, the words were leaving her lips quickly, he didn’t know this was a sensitive or important topic for her, since he found out about her lack of sexual experience one time when they were joking, as they usually did. “i'm just not like that, i want it to mean something, not just because it's my first time, that's bullshit, but because the other person loves me and cares for me enough to know how to treat me and cherish me the way i deserve."

"you want the whole… flower petals on the bed? lit candles thing?" 

"shut up," she groaned, "i just want to find the right person. and once i do that, i'm sure everything will just… fall into place," max felt bad, he didn't mean to upset her at all, she'd told him that not a lot of people knew about her lack of experience, and some of the people that knew told her she was being overdramatic.

"well… i think it's nice that you're waiting for the right person. just make sure they're clean, though,"

"don't worry," she laughed, "i will."

“you'll have new material for songs after that." be pointed out, she smiled. "how’s the album going, by the way?” he asked, sitting up, with his back against the arm of the couch.

“meh, it’s going…” she dropped her head down, looking up at the ceiling. “inspiration’s not hitting me right now,”

“well… what do you usually do to get out of this…” 

“writer’s block,” she finished for him, then sighed, “i don’t know. i’ve never experienced this before. words always just seemed to… come to me when i needed them. but now it’s… they’re gone,”

he raised his eyebrows, he could tell that this was something new to her, he saw the way her left leg was shaking, something she did when she wasn’t comfortable.

“i’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he smiled, she lifted her head from the pillows to smile at him, too. 

“you didn’t answer the question,” she reminded him. “why is 3 your favorite number?”

“i… i don’t know. i’ve always liked it. i like the fact that if you complete the circles it becomes an 8.”

“oh, you’re right,” she nodded. “next question…” she said, turning on her side, “would you ever get a tattoo?” 

“hmm… maybe?” he looked up at the ceiling, “i think it depends on what it is. you?”

“same. i saw online something about golden ink, not yellow, gold. with sparkles.”

“you like sparkles?” max smiled teasingly.

“i love sparkles,” she chuckled.

his phone buzzed, and he unlocked it, seeing a text from one of the media guys, who’d sent him a link to a youtube video. he tapped it, and the app loaded, he read the title and a big grin spread across his face. 

“look at this,” he stood up, walking to the bed and sitting down on it, they were sitting shoulder to shoulder now. 

“it’s up?” she asked as she read the title. 

"uh-huh," he projected it onto the tv in front of them, their smiling faces plastered on the flat screen.

june 24th, 2021.spielberg, austria.

they arrived at the track, the red bull ring. he’d made her drive, of course, to get her used to being behind the wheel, as he’d claimed.

“are you ready?”

“no.” she rolled her eyes, opening the door and stepping out. max followed her, a grin on his face as he threw an arm around her shoulders.

“come on, it’s just going to be us,”

“yeah, and everybody else working here, fans waiting outside the track, everyone will see me crash that car and you,” she slid his arm off her, “are going to pay for it,”

“you’re not going to crash. it’s not that difficult,”

“yeah, you drive cars at ridiculously high speed, you don’t get to tell me what is or isn’t difficult.”

“noted,” he said, his arm finding her shoulder again. she left it there this time, she needed the comfort. they reached the red bull hospitality, dropped their stuff in his room and walked downstairs. “i have to go do the conference thing… won’t be more than thirty minutes,” he said, she nodded, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“i know, we’ve been through this before, max,” she told him, “i’ll be fine, i’ll look some videos up to refresh my memory,”

“okay. don’t be nervous, it’s just gonna be us, remember?”

“yeah, i know. just us.”

-

they were approached by the red bull team principal, she immediately took a step to the side, she didn’t like him that much.

“car’s ready, cameras are ready,”

“cameras?” she asked, looking at max.

“why cameras?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“marketing thought it’d be great for publicity, your friendship has a great presence on social media.”

“i told you this was a bad idea,” she told max, taking a step away from him.

“well, i didn’t know they were going to turn this into a media thing. but it’ll be fine, i promise,”

“yeah, now the entire world will watch me destroy a car,”

“i’d appreciate if you didn’t-” horner interrupted. 

“oh, don’t worry, your golden boy will be paying for it,”

“and i told you you’re not going to crash, you have enough space to drive safely here.” he reassured her, sliding his arm around her shoulder, squeezing her against him, “but if you feel more comfortable without the cameras i’m sure we can figure something out,”

“it’s gonna get out anyway,” she sighed. “fine, let’s do this,”

“look at your face!” max laughed as he pointed at the tv. she cackled, too, watching her past self holding tightly to whatever surface was near her when max sped up as he followed the curves, instead of slowing down.

“my heart was pounding so hard,” she rested her head against max’s shoulder, “and my stomach was down to my ass,” she continued laughing. 

“yeah, i wasn’t helping either,” he admitted, and she rolled her eyes. “you had fun, though,”

“i did. i did, it was fun. but we’re not doing it again,”

-

november 23rd, 2021.monte-carlo, monaco.

she could barely keep her eyes open as she walked to the door, the sound of the doorbell ringing made her head pound.

“i waited for you for like half an hour wha- whoa, you’re sick,” max said as she opened the door.

“oh, god. i forgot about the… i’m sorry-”

“no, no, it’s fine. are you okay?” he asked, lifting the back of his hand and pressing it against her forehead to check her temperature.

“fine, just… a cold,” she said as she wrapped the blanket tighter around her. “you should… probably leave now, i don’t want to get you sick,” she brought the inside of her elbow up to her mouth, covering it as she coughed into it.

“that’s not a cold,” his eyes widened, and he put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back inside her house.

“wh- what are you doing? you have to leave, you’ll get sick too!”

“yeah, well too bad, i’m already in.” he shrugged his shoulder as he dropped his hand to his sides, he extended one arm, touching her hand. “and i’m taking care of you today,” he stated. it wasn’t a question, and he didn’t leave her room for complaints. “because i’m your friend, and that’s what friends do.” she smiled, holding back a cough, “and you look like hell. i want to get material for blackmail,” he raised his phone quickly, snapping a picture of her.

“stop it!” she cackled, hitting his shoulder. her laughs were interrupted when she started coughing, “i hate you.” she leaned forward, resting her forehead on his shoulder. he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing up and down her back with one hand. “thanks,”

“anytime.”

“i’ll pay you back when you get sick,”

“i never get sick,” max said, raising an eyebrow confidently.

“we’ll see about that,” she said, coughing into his shoulder.

“fuck you,” he laughed.

“thank you.”

“have you gone to the doctor?” he asked her after a few seconds.

“i facetimed my friend. ordered the meds. shit, that reminds me, i have to take my meds at 6,” she thought out loud.

“okay, that’s good. now, let’s go sit, you need to rest.”

-

“that’s dumb,”

“you’re dumb.”

“you’re being aggressive.”

“i’m allowed to be aggressive.”

“why? cause you’re sick?”

“exactly.”

“it’s still dumb.”

“he loves her,” she explains.

“then why doesn’t he say it?” he asked, frowning at the characters in the movie they were watching.

“cause he’s nervous! and he doesn’t want to risk their friendship by telling her.”

“but she clearly loves him too. why doesn’t he see it?”

“because boys are… dumb,” she gave in, agreeing with max. “they don’t see what’s good even if it’s right in front of them.” she said, shaking her head.

“that sounded personal… you alright?”

“fuck off,” she laughed, then broke into a fit of coughs. “i think you’re making me more harm than good,” she said once she recovered. she heard max chuckling under his breath, saw him leaning forward to grab a glass of water that was on the coffee table in front of them. he handed it to her, “thanks,” she whispered as she drank from it, taking a deep breath after she was done. 

“nurse max at your orders,” he said, leaning back against her soft couch, “i love this thing,” he said, running his hand over the back of it.

“what?”

“your couch,”

“it is my proudest purchase,” she smiled. her eyes drifted back to the tv, seeing the girl on the other side of the screen watching the love of her life walk away. she rolled her eyes, her head drifting to the side, she leaned it against max’s shoulder.

“you tired?” he asked, not daring to move, as it would disturb her.

“a little.” she answered, being interrupted by a yawn.

“go ahead, i’m not going anywhere,” he said, she smiled.

“good.”

-

loud blaring woke her up, she sat up, looking around as she tried to locate the sound. she turned to her left, seeing max rubbing his eyes. he’d fallen asleep as well. 

“what’s that?” she asked.

“sorry, i fell asleep. it’s the alarm,” he grabbed his phone from the coffee table turning the alarm off. “come on,” max got up, extending his hand out to her.

“why?” she grunted, grabbing his hand and letting him help her up, they walked to her kitchen. max grabbed a new glass and filled it with water.

“it’s six. time for your meds,” he said, sliding the cup her way. she frowned.

“you set up an alarm… to remind me to take my meds?” she said, slowly, the words sinking in as she spoke.

“yeah, he shrugged, like it was nothing, “i want you to get better soon, and you need your meds for that,”

“aw, you care about me,” she teased, popping the pill in her mouth and downing the glass of water. 

“duh,” he rolled his eyes, walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her.

she held back a grin, biting the inside of her cheeks. she thought back to atlanta, when max surprised her not once, but twice. he’d done so much for her in the time they’d known each other, he knew her better than anyone else, better than she knew herself even.

max verstappen had turned her world upside down the moment he walked in.

or, she’d changed his the moment she stumbled into him.

maybe that’s why the shift from being friends to lovers was so smooth.

-

december 12th, 2021.abu dhabi, uae.

she held the bottle of vodka in her hand, she tried to keep her hands steady, but she was laughing too much, which made her shake. 

“just go for it!” max said. she nodded, and max leaned his head back, opening his mouth, waiting for her. she tilted the bottle down, and the hard liquor started pouring down, into max’s mouth. his friends around them watched expectantly, waiting for him to declare when it was enough. she waited to feel the squeeze on her hip, but it never came. so she stopped. “that’s enough for now,” she said, max leaned forward.

“more,” he said. she shook her head, smiling.

“let’s do tequila shots instead,” her words caught his attention, and max’s eyes seemed to shine brighter than they did when he jumped out of his car earlier that night.

he grabbed her hand, walked to the bar and asked for a bottle of tequila, limes and salt. she hung onto his arm, wrapping her free arm around it as she leaned her forehead against his shoulder.

“come on, let’s go upstairs,” he told her, placing a kiss on the top of her head. she leaned back, a small smile on her face as she looked up at him.

“i’m so proud of you,” she said, letting go of him, lifting her hands and placing them on his cheeks. “you deserve this championship.”

“thank you,” he moved his head to kiss the palm of her hand. she chuckled, taking her hands off to help him with the bottle of liquor. “let’s get wasted.”

she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been waiting for this moment since the first time back in austria. sometimes, if she closed her eyes and thought back to that night, she swore she could still feel his hot breath against her neck, his wet tongue gathering the salt, his lips barely on hers as he collected the lime. she wanted to feel that again. she wanted it every day.

they slipped away unnoticed, everyone was way too drunk to notice their absence, which was odd since they were all there to celebrate max. but they didn’t care, this wasn’t something they wanted everyone else to see. max sat down on a stool, a table by his side. he placed a plate with limes and the salt shaker on it, and watched her place the bottle there too. she stood in front of him, and he put his hands on her waist, pulling her close to him.

“sit,” he said. she raised an eyebrow. she placed her hands on his knees, pushing his legs together. then, she climbed on his lap.

“better?” she asked, her voice breathy.

“better,” he confirmed. she smiled, and everything she could see was blue. the blue of his eyes that never left her face. they stared deep into her, as if he was meeting her for the first time, as if she were the only thing that existed at that moment. she watched his eyes move slowly, they inspected her, memorizing every inch of her. she saw as a corner of his mouth twitched, her eyes went to his lips.

she loved his lips. she’d never told him that, but she liked that they were full and thick, and fit him perfectly. he took a deep breath as he noticed her eyes drifting down, his lips parted, and she felt his breath hit her chin, since she was on top of him, she had to look down to see him. she wanted to taste his lips, she decided at that moment. 

she placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning forward. the hands on her hips gripped tighter, and max straightened his back, it was almost an automatic response when he felt nervous, and it brought him closer to her faster than either of them expected.

“m-max,” she whispered, her eyes on his. she saw as his eyes drifted down to her lips, “can i-”

she couldn’t finish her question, she was cut off by that pair of lips that she’d been dreaming of since they met, they were on hers, kissing her hard. a whimper escaped her throat, being swallowed by him as he tilted his head to the side and leaned forward, pushing her head back. one of his hands left her waist, he placed it on the back of her head, keeping her there. her hands were on his face now, and she felt him shudder beneath her touch.

later, as she found herself unable to sleep, she’ll think about this. how max basically melted under the touch of her fingertips against his face. she held him gently, compared to the rough battle their lips had at that moment. 

max swore he was tasting a piece of heaven. when he was younger, he’d had to convince himself that he was in love with his partners. but the truth was, no one could make him feel the way she did. his feelings for her were strong and true and real. he didn’t have to convince himself this time. he knew it. and it scared him. 

the kiss was growing desperate, one of her hands slid down to his neck, and she could feel his rapid heartbeat beneath the layers of skin. he leaned back, looking up at her through his long lashes, his lips parted as he breathed in. she felt goosebumps running down her back as she saw him in that state. his hands slid down to her waist again, and this time, she grabbed him by his perfect ashy brown hair and brough his lips to hers. 

she wanted him. that was a fact that she’d tried to fight since it first came to mind. she wanted to blame the alcohol in their systems, but she knew it just gave her the courage to do it. these actions were all hers.

she broke the kiss, her hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating quickly beneath her touch. she leaned her forehead against his, closing her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. these actions were all hers. and that scared her.

“i can’t- i-” she panted, her chest heaving as she breathed in and out. she was afraid to open her eyes. what if-

“(y/n)...” his voice was breathy as he said her name. she felt chills, she felt time stopping as he called her name. but she could feel fear creeping up her back.

“no, max- we- we’re friends…” she opened her eyes, looking down. his hand went up to her chin, he leaned back but kept her in place, “we can’t-”

“cause we’re friends. i know,” he said, she saw him blinking twice, he swallowed a lump in his throat. she was right, they were just friends, and their friendship was too valuable to risk it.

she closed her eyes, swallowing the words, the conversation stuck in her throat.

-

december 13th, 2021.abu dhabi, uae.

she woke up with max by her side. he was warm, she liked that he was warm. she smiled as she placed her head on his chest, throwing an arm over his stomach as she snuggled against him. somewhere between the hours of 1 and 3am, they’d thrown all cautions out the window.

‘i love you, and not like a best friend. i don’t want you like a best friend.’

she was in love with max verstappen. and somehow, he was in love with her, too.

“do you not sleep?” she was startled as she heard his voice. it was deep and rough and raspy, and she wanted to hear more of it.

“did i wake you?” she whispered, looking up at him.

“well considering the fact that you’re squeezing me to death, letting me unable to breathe, i’ll say that was a great factor to me waking up,” he dropped his head down on the pillow as she chuckled, holding onto him tightly. 

“can you blame me?” she asked, daring to place a kiss on his chest.

“no, i can’t blame you,” he smiled, sliding an arm beneath her, he moved her so she was now sitting on top of him. she raised an eyebrow.

“you like me being on top, don’t you?” she teased, leaning down, her lace covered breasts touching his chest, her lips hovered over his.

“it’s the greatest view,” he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers. she breathed in deeply, her hands going up to his face. she loved the feeling of his lips on hers.

“so much pining, anticipation…” she said as she breathed, diving back in, “desperately waiting.” her lips went down to his neck, where the evidence of the night before was littering his skin. they hadn’t had sex, max knew that had to be her choice, and he sure as hell didn’t want their first time together to be like that. “you know i woke up late… that day we met,” she said, her nails running up and down his stomach, where she could feel his muscles tensing, “or maybe… i woke up just in time to stumble into you.”

she sat up, looking for his hands. he laced their fingers together, keeping them by her sides as he sat up as well, coming face to face with her.

“and now… i get to wake up by your side.”

“my hands shake,” he said, “i’ve noticed that… whenever i know that i’m going to see you, my hands start shaking. and since last saturday, they never stopped shaking, because i didn’t know when i would see you again.”

“and now you know,” she said, bringing his hands up to her lips, between them, “you know that i’m never leaving your side.”

“good.”

“you’ve changed my life. i didn’t know i could connect with someone, so deeply and real, and i’ve loved being your friend, but now… i want more.”

“i used to be lucky enough to call my best friend, way back before you were my everything,” he said, making her breath hitch, he leaned in, letting go of one of her hands to move her hair away, his lips touched her neck. “now i’m sucking your neck,”

“you did that before, though,” she said, sighing at the feeling, “with tequila,”

“it’s different now,” he continued, “now, i just want to lay back, and watch you pin me to the bed,” he confessed, “and we’ll get as far as you want to.”

“give it time,” she said, kissing his cheek as she obeyed, she pushed him back against the bed, one of her hands slid up to his throat. “is this what you imagined?”

“this is much better,” he smiled, “and no pressure. you’re the boss here.”

he waited. she waited. they waited until she was sure she couldn’t fall more in love with him, but she realized that day would never come since max found a way, each day, to make her feel like the only girl in the world. 

so she tried.

-

february 14th, 2022.monte-carlo, monaco.

she sat on top of max, with her knees on either side of him. she held his face with one hand, the other was curled around his soft strands of hair. their lips were tangled together, and even with that certainty that they were as close as possible, she could still feel max’s hands shaking on top of her hips.

“i want-” she started, breaking the kiss to speak, she pressed her forehead against his, “i’m ready.” she said. “i’m ready. i want you,” 

“wh- you-” max started, but was cut off by her lips on his again.

“please. it’s valentine’s day, and- and i bought this new dress, that i know i look hot in,”

“so hot,” he said, kissing his way down to her neck.

“and i bought it… just so you could take it off. so, max emilian verstappen,” she pulled him by his hair, making him look at her, “take this dress off, and fuck me like you love me.”

she was breathing hard, and she could feel the way her words were affecting him. she’d gotten used to teasing him, learning what he liked, what made him sigh and beg for more. she wanted him to be the one begging, but if things went well that night, she’d hopefully be hearing that soon.

“i love you, deeply and true. it’s real and intense, and passionate. it’s full of desire and complete love. i don’t think there’s another word to describe it other than… love. so, no, i won’t fuck you like i love you… i’ll worship,” he kissed her neck, “i’ll cherish,” he nipped at the skin, making her sigh, her hips moved forward involuntarily, “i’ll love you that way.”

max took his time with her. her mind had gone blank, she let herself just feel.

he continued biting, sucking her neck. he could feel the way she was breathing fast, he lifted his hand and wrapped it around her throat, his lips met hers as he flipped both of them over, setting her over the covers softly. the red dress she wore made her look like a goddess. a goddess of seduction, temptation. her hair framed her face, in a way that made him want her more. her eyes looked brighter, her skin was glowing, her lips were full, swollen.

desire turned her into a whole different woman. 

no, desire brought out the goddess hiding inside the woman.

“come,” max said, grabbing her hands. he helped her up, they stood in front of the other, max brought his hands up to her face, holding her gently. “i love you. i’ve loved you since the first moment. let me love you how you deserve to be loved.”

“please,” she whispered. he leaned closer, and they kissed, slow, deep. he slipped the straps of her dress down her shoulders, his hands moved to the back, finding the zipper. “take it off,” she sighed.

“patience,” he said, pecking her lips.

“i’m done being patient. i’ve already waited long enough to have you,” she said, max wanted to smirk, wanted to keep the game going, but this wasn’t the time. 

he started pulling the dress down, and as the fabric abandoned her body, he made sure to cover it with kisses. his lips met every inch of skin that was available to him. he paid extra attention to her breasts, played with them and relished in every sigh, whimper and praise that left her lips. that made max work harder. he didn’t want to stop hearing those words coming from her.

minutes later, max couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he climbed on top of her, his lips were glistening, and she was biting her lips as she watched him. she held his face and pressed their lips together, tasting herself as well. she was still coming from the highs of her orgasm when she felt his fingers on her core again.

“max, please,” she whispered. his fingers were replaced by his cock, and she bit her lip, hissing. 

“no turning back now,”

“i’m not even going to try,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

adrenaline, lust, love was rushing through their veins. this feeling was inescapable, not that either of them wanted to be somewhere else, feel something else. this was better than anything they’d ever felt, experienced before. 

when they met, not even a year ago, they didn’t imagine that they’d be there at that moment.

“i love you,” she said, feeling another orgasm approaching as max gently moved his hips.

“you’ll love this,” he said, grabbing her hips and flipping them over, so she was on top.

“oh,” she whimpered, this new position gave her all the control, it let her feel everything. "oh, wow,"

“it's your turn now," max smiled, feeling her nails clawing at his chest, "what was it that you said? fuck me like you love me."

“fuck yes,” she whimpered, feeling max burying his hands on her hips as she started moving back and forth, getting used to this new sensation. “fuck, that feels amazing,” she threw her head back as she placed her hands on max’s chest, when she was ready, she raised her hips, then sank back down.

“god, you are amazing,” he grunted, helping her fuck herself on his cock. he laid back against the pillows, in awe of the beauty that was her. her, wrapped up in the bliss and pleasure that she was getting from using him.

“so, so good,” she whispered, furrowing her eyebrows as she leaned forward, pressing her lips against max’s, their sweaty foreheads colliding as she sped up her movements.

“i can feel you…” he paused, grunting, “your walls tightening around me, fuck,” his voice was deep and rough, she shuddered as she heard him, unaware that she’d been doing it.

“that’s… good?” she asked between sighs, max had planted his feet on the mattress, raising his hips to meet her thrusts.

“it’s great, so great,” he panted, her movements were becoming uneven, she was getting close to another sweet release. “i got you,” max said, taking charge of the thrusts. 

her fingers were wrapped around his hair, since he didn’t have that many public outings at that moment, he’d let his hair grow freely, she loved it. she loved all of him, every piece, every imperfection, everything. 

he loved that he’d let her learn what she wanted, what she liked, to make this moment, one that he knew meant a lot to her, the best and most perfect experience. 

-

june 12th, 2022.baku, azerbaijan.

“shit, shit, shit,” she muttered as she almost ran to the garage. it was fifty minutes before the race, and she was late. so, so late. max had been texting her every five minutes, texts she’d received about thirty minutes ago, when her plane landed.

perks of being famous and rich, a helicopter ride solved most of her problems.

she made her way through the people, fans, and other random vip guests that crowded the paddock. once she was inside the red bull garage she leaned against a wall to catch her breath.

“finally! he’s been driving all of us crazy,” she heard someone talking to her, and she sighed as she saw max’s race engineer, gianpiero with an exhausted look on his face.

“i know,” she breathed, “i know, but my flight got delayed, and then the-” her words were cut off when suddenly a body almost jumped on top of her. she wrapped her arms around max, “hey, i’m so sorry i’m late.”

“it’s fine,” his words came out muffled, he had his face hidden in her neck.

“were you terrorising everyone without me?” she snickered.

“can you blame me? you were supposed to be here yesterday, i was bored.”

“oh, so i’m just something for your entertainment?” she laughed, max leaned back.

“maybe…” he smiled sheepishly, she rolled her eyes and grabbed his face, leading his lips to hers. 

“i want to show you something,” she said once he leaned back, letting her see his eyes for the first time in three weeks.

“max, come on, time to head out,” someone said, and she groaned internally.

“i’m sorry, i-”

“go, go, i’ll be right here, okay?” she smiled, pressing her lips against max’s one more time. “good luck, champ. this win is yours,”

“hopefully.” he chuckled.

“i’m sure of it, and i’m never wrong,” she raised an eyebrow.

“whoa,” he laughed, “i can count at least fifteen times you’ve said that in the past six months and… surprise, surprise, you were wrong,” she laughed, slapping his arm.

“go. before i leave you unable to drive that stupid car,” he grabbed her hips and brought her close, connecting their lips again. 

-

the feeling of being right is one that she loved. she liked being smug for once, to look someone in the eye and say ‘i told you so’.

she was prepared to do that, but then she saw max wink at her from the podium, and she was fine with it.

she made her way back to the paddock, but someone sliding their arm around her shoulders made her stop.

“it’s been a while,” she looked to the side, smiling as she saw charles. 

“hey! it’s good to see you,” she hugged him. “how are you feeling?” she asked, this race hadn’t been the kindest to him. 

“i just… wish this bad luck could stop now,” she nodded, understanding his frustration.

“i know. i’m sure you’ll figure something out soon,”

“yeah, hopefully,” he sighed, shaking his head. “so, where has max been keeping you captive? you basically disappeared after miami,”

“shut up,” she laughed, elbowing his ribs, “i have a job, too.” 

“i know, i know,” he laughed, “i’m just joking. don’t forget about your friends, though. you can’t abandon us just because you have a pretty new boyfriend now,” she narrowed her eyes.

“did you just call max ‘pretty’?” she laughed, and charles groaned, realizing he’d probably used the wrong word, “and don’t worry, i know how to balance my time with the people i care about.”

“well, why don’t we go out for drinks or something?” he said.

“sure, next week?” she lifted her brows.

“sounds like a plan,” charles smiled.

“what plan?” max asked, materializing in front of them.

“hey, champ!” she grinned, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek. “you did amazing out there.”

“thank you,” his cheeks blushed under her stare. “what were you two planning?” max asked, and she could feel his hands holding her tighter against him, could see the way his eyes changed when his eyes drifted from her, to charles.

“oh, just going out for drinks next week,” charles said, and his voice sounded small, like he was intimidated. good, max thought. 

“great, we’ll see you there,” max smiled, a forced smile that she knew all too well, the one reserved for interviews.

charles gave them a tight-lipped smile, nodding.

“there’s this place with a… uh- rooftop and-” charles said, blushing.

“that sounds great, she loves rooftops, don’t you, darling?” max grinned, and she pinched his side in return.

“uh, i guess i’ll- see you there,” charles smiled before making his way to his own motorhome.

“couldn’t you be a bit nicer? he’s been struggling non-stop these weeks,” she bit back a smile, knowing that max was jealous, even though he had nothing to worry about.

“i know, i already talked to him in the media pen,” max rolled his eyes, “why did you talk to him before you talked to me?” he almost pouted.

“ah, because everyone wanted to talk to the winner, the championship leader and current world champion,” she placed her hands on his face, squishing his cheeks together, “i could wait,”

“well, i’m not making you wait anymore. come on,” he grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together, he walked her to the red bull motorhome.

-

hours later, they sat on max’s jet, the seats were incredibly comfortable, perfect for the long journey ahead. since the time difference would be quite significant, they decided to head to canada as soon as possible to get used to jet lag. 

“hey, you were going to tell me something,” max remembered, “what was it?” he asked.

“oh,” she felt nervous, all of a sudden, “yeah, show you something, actually,”

“okay, what is it?” he asked, reaching for her hand.

“don’t freak out,” she started, biting her lip. “i did something,”

“o-kayy,” he frowned, “tell me now because i’m starting to worry,”

“you know how… i told you about the sparkly ink?” she started, and continued when max nodded, “i got a tattoo,”

“what?” max asked, reaching for her hands with his, pulling her to his lap.

“yeah, it’s… something small, but, you know, it’s important cause… it was my first,” her voice was small, shy.

“where did you get it? can you show me or…” he leaned close to her ear, “is it somewhere private?” she could feel his breath on her skin, it made her laugh, it helped dissipate the nerves. 

“it’s here,” she pointed to her wrist, that was decorated with bracelets. max’s eyes went down to her hand, he held her arm running the pads of his fingers over it.

“can i?” he asked, holding one of the bracelets. she nodded and turned her wrist, so he couldn’t see the tattoo just yet. he removed them all, sliding them one by one and placing them on her other arm. 

“before you see it i… i just want to say that even though it’s soon, i already love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone, anything. and i don’t… want to think too much about the future, but- even if we don’t end up together in the future,” she said, and felt max’s hand holding hers tighter, clearly not comfortable or too happy with the idea of them being apart, that made her heart beat faster, “i will always have love for you, you’ve marked me, inside and out. you’ve changed me completely, and i’ll never be the same person i was before i met you. you’ve brought out the best of me, and that’s why…” she cleared her throat, “i have this, to remember you, anywhere, anytime.”

she turned her wrist, there, right in the middle, a golden number 3.

she was watching him expectantly, waiting to see a reaction, but all max did was blink.

“and- and the good thing is, like you said- that- the three can turn into an 8. and if you turn it around the- the 8 can become an infinite. you- you know, the symbol for-” she rambled, but was cut off by max’s lips on hers. he held her face with both of his hands, and kissed her with such force, in a way that let her know that he wasn’t upset.

“there’s no need. no need for you to change it. i love it, and i love you. and you have nothing to worry about, cause you and i-” he pressed his forehead against hers, “we’re forever.”

-

@lovingroscoee

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fan fiction #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen facfiction #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x singer!reader #max verstappen x singer!actress!reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen oneshot #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 fandom #f1 #f1 drivers #f1 drivers x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine

[maithefluffychicken]

Taste of love

"You must admit, he's charismatic," Robin says, a sly grin curling her lips.

"Yeah, he's the new favorite, fucking great," Steve laments, jealously evident in his tone.

Truth is, Steve can admit that Eddie is charismatic, and good at his job, and he's stupidly hot doing said job. It’s not fair, talented and good looking, with bright doe eyes as dark as the chocolate he likes to use in most of his creations?

Steve hates him. He hates the way he can’t stop staring at him when Eddie is in, well, in full Eddie mode like he is right now.

He’s recording himself, the pretentious little shit, with an improvised but somehow extremely professional set up, a whole fucking tripod for his nextgen smartphone as a camera. He has the two long counters for himself, it’s his fucking stage and he’s the rockstar: he looks like one, with the long hair tied up in a messy bun that Steve wants to undo, and all those tattoos covering his arms. He’s not even wearing a fucking chef’s jacket, no. The cocky bastard is wearing a tight black t-shirt, Steve can see the ripple of his muscles when he moves. Again, stupidly hot.

He claims to not need help, and yet, Henderson - pastry chef junior and a traitor - is cheerfully helping him to set everything out and clean the counters between scenes.

On the street, bystanders stop to look through the store window, recording the mess Eddie is doing with their own personal phones, and fucking enjoying the show that is Eddie Munson creating a masterpiece of a cake.

“I still don’t see how this is going to help us,” Steve sighs, leaning against the doorframe of his own kitchen, staring - ogling - at Eddie, watching him peeling limes, oranges and grapefruits for this new dessert he’s making.

“He’ll post it on instagram and whatnot, get the people interested in us,” Robin explains to him, as patiently and lovingly as ever.

“The whole process?” Steve asks, now a bit concerned. “Everyone will know the recipe, and then who’ll come to buy?”

Steve and Robin had worked hard and spent all their money in this little cake shop, which it is, in fact, a fucking monster of a pâtisserie and the fanciest café. This was their dream, and it still is their dream. And it’s also a fucking risk if it fails, so excuse him if he doesn’t want everyone to know how to recreate their goods.

“No, no, dingus, just the pretty parts, like a montage, like a film.”

“Good lord, is this one of those Wes Anderson’s vibes or whatever?” Steve says, and his face must be doing something funny because Robin laughs openly now.

“God, no, but that would be awesome, you should tell him to do that!” Robin says, and then adds. “Or you should do it yourself, join Eddie, make us famous and rich!”

Steve frowns and grunts. To be honest, he should be working too, there’s another completely functional kitchen where he could be baking his own things. But for some reason, watching Eddie is mesmerizing, and Steve is not sure he’ll be able to stop looking and leave to be alone in the other kitchen.

So he stays, and follows Eddie to the oven when the puff pastry is ready to be baked. And then he stays a bit longer to witness the filling. And then- Well, he stays until Eddie finishes with the decoration.

Eddie doesn’t talk to the camera, not once, he just works, he doesn’t seem to notice Steve and Robin at all.

When the stupidly good looking dessert, painted in lime green, is done, Eddie does the second most stupid thing ever. He cuts it evenly and walks out to the street to share it with his audience, Dustin follows him, recording the whole thing. Free samples of a dessert that is, well, it’s expensive as fuck. Eddie smiles and comes back to the kitchen, two spare portions, one for Steve and the other for Robin.

“Come on, chef,” he grins at Steve, far too mischievously for Steve’s liking. “I know you want a taste of this.”

The words sound sinful to Steve’s ears, the way Eddie says it. Fuck, he even swayed his hips while he was speaking! Steve’s mouth goes dry, trying to think of a retort and win whatever battle they’re having. But Robin interrupts them with a groan, her mouth full of the lime tart Eddie saved for them.

“Oh my god,” she says before even swallowing. “Phteef, eat it. Now”

Steve sighs, his gaze locks with Eddie’s when he reaches for his portion, the last on the silver tray Eddie is holding patiently. It’s not solid at all, silky and cold at the touch, and the first thing Steve notices is the aroma. Citrics and burnt sugar, fresh and intense. Steve takes it to his mouth and bites, the lemon praliné breaks easily under the pressure and it melts on his tongue among the softest mousse Steve has ever tasted. The sugar is there but it doesn’t ruin the citrus flavor, the real hero. Grapefruit and orange jam and the soft biscuit join them, a counterpart for the ethereal texture of the mousse.

Steve tries to hold back the involuntary moan that escapes his mouth, but it’s too late. Eddie is grinning wolfishly at him. Steve blushes, fiercely. He’s a thirty year old man, the chef of his own pâtissery, he shouldn’t be moaning and blushing like this, but fuck, the lime tart is absurdly good and he knows he’s going to eat the whole portion. What a fucking shame.

“And?” Eddie asks, nervously buzzing in front of them both, unashamedly fishing for praise he doesn’t need at all. Cocky bastard, again. “Is it good, right? Do you like it, chef?”

Steve swallows, the taste and scents lingering on his tongue and palate. Fucking delicious.

“Yeah, it’s ok,” Steve shrugs, as if he just didn’t fucking moan because of the best lime tart he has ever tasted.

“Come on, Steve,” Robin nudges him.

“Chef, please,” Eddie begs and it does something to Steve, something he can’t - and doesn’t want to - name yet. “Please, I need to know, have I passed my trial month?”

Steve really really wants to say no, that Eddie has an attitude and a temper that Steve doubts is good for the business. Eddie, who is giving free samples to people on the street. Eddie who decided to record himself in Steve’s kitchen to post it on social media. Eddie, who doesn’t wear proper clothes for his kitchen.

Steve wants to bid him farewell.

But the lime praliné is slowly melting with the warmth of his fingers, green painting his fingertips, the smooth mousse giving away, Steve wants to finish his portion, and as the greedy son of a bitch he is, Steve wants more of this even more than he wants Eddie out of his kitchen.

Steve wants to tell Eddie to fuck off, but he’s curious about what else he can to do. A month is not enough to know the enigma that is chef Edward Munson.

“Ok, ok, you’re hired, chef,” Steve says, and Eddie punches the air in victory. Steve holds back a smile. “Six months, and then we’ll see, ok?”

“Fuck, yes! I mean,” Eddie clears his throat, he’s the one blushing now. “Yes, chef. Thank you, chef.”

Six months.

-

Steve is used to being alone in the morning, opening up in the early hours and enjoying the bakery’s calm quietness, the buzzing sound of the fridges and ovens his only company while he works., He spends the time trying out old and new recipes, practicing techniques to apply in future desserts.

That was, of course, before Eddie.

It’s Robin’s fault, anyway, she convinced Steve to give this new, eccentric pastry chef a chance to work in their bakery. It’s true that they both needed help, they both needed a right hand man to keep the bakery and the staff going while they designed new recipes. Dustin Henderson is a talented kid, controlling the dough like a pro, but he’s still learning - under Steve and Robin’s supervision, of course -, and Erica Sinclair is even younger than Dustin, but man, that girl knows how to decorate a wedding cake.

The other staff they hired are just as good. The kitchen is alive and buzzing with energy, Steve loves it. He’s grateful that he gets to have this; his own place, with people he loves.

Stobin Pastry and Cakes started as a humble bakery when Keith closed Family Video, where they used to work as teens. They took all their savings and bought the place, and transformed it into what it is today.

The kids Steve babysat for years applied to work with them. Will left to study art, and Mike followed him blindly, in love. Lucas and Max decided to take a gap year abroad, sending them postcards regularly and texting Steve and Robin about the recipes they find on their journey.

Dustin and Erica decided to stick around and learn from Steve and Robin, now Stobin’s youngest chefs, with the honorary title of Junior Pastry Chef for the both of them.

So, Steve loved to be the first one in, turning on the ovens and getting the bakery ready for the day, while Robin took Dustin to the market at dawn, picking out new products of the season and sending Steve silly pics while doing it. Erica arrived in time to meet the providers, standing by Steve’s side and supervising that everything was in perfect conditions.

Steve could have never imagined that he’d get to work with his family, and he loves it. He once feared he’d end up working for his father, but this? As exhausting and sometimes stressful as it is, this is Steve’s dream.

But of course, now they have Eddie. Eddie, overqualified to be anything less than a pastry chef, with his tattoos and long hair and toned biceps… Steve is still getting used to doing his own job while Eddie is right there with him, kneading fresh dough or whatever. Between the ripple of his muscles and the music Eddie enjoys, it’s hard for Steve to focus.

Because that’s the other thing that had\s changed. The music. Steve loved to work in silence, but Eddie came and asked if they minded listening to music while working: heavy fucking metal and rock from the eighties is now the soundtrack to Steve’s life, since Robin, Dustin and Erica agreed with Eddie, effectively out voting him.

Things have changed for Steve and for Stobin Pastry. Not everything is bad, though, Eddie and whatever he’s posting on social media is also attracting customers to them, as Robin said it would. Steve can’t really complain.

-

“What’s this?” Steve asks, stepping into his office to find Robin and Erica, heads pressed together looking at the bright screen of Erica’s phone. There’s a weird look on Robin’s face, eyes wide open and lips curled in disgust, while Erica is biting her lower lip, holding back a smirk. “What are you-”

“Shh!” Erica shushes at him, and Steve grunts in surprise.

“I think I’m going to puke,” Robin says, her eyes still focused on whatever is playing on the screen.

“Imagine it’s a hot girl, Robs,” Erica replies, half laughing.

“That’s not the problem, Sinclair-”

“Ok, you two, what are you watching?” Steve snaps, rounds his desk to stand behind the girls and frowns, focusing his sight on whatever they’re watching.

“Oh,” Steve whispers.

On the screen, a younger version of Eddie is-

He is-

“I know, right?” Erica giggles. Giggles. “He’s so weirdly hot.”

“Well, at least now we know that he’s alway loved being in front of the camera, right?” Robin adds jokingly, as if that could help Steve to assimilate the images he’s watching right now.

Eddie is wearing a loose black shirt, far too open to be in any kitchen, Steve can see the barest hint of soft hair on his chest, and the tattoos he has there. For a brief second, Steve has the need to see them in real life. But the Eddie in the video, rewound by Erica, is flexing his arms to tie his curly hair in a messy bun, and winks at the camera.

And then, the weirdest things happen. It’s a video showing Eddie making cannoli, but it’s- It’s so sexual it’s almost explicit. He kneads the dough, making sure the camera frames his biceps and his swelling chest, and spanks it, cuts it and digs his fingers into both parts, making it look like it’s a- Good lord. Next, Eddie sinks two fingers into the cream to lick them, tongue curling sinfully around them.

Steve feels his blood simmering in his veins with a new need that startles him, mortified at the realization that he is getting hard.

"Ok, enough, Erica, we've seen enough," he says with a weak, pathetic voice.

He has to watch the whole video, but not here, not with… the girls around, no, definitely.

"Thank god," Robin sighs when Erica closes the video and locks her phone with a pout.

The girls stand up and are ready to leave Steve's office, not noticing his internal turmoil.

"Say what you want, Robs, he is hot, a bit disgusting in a way that only a guy can be, but hot nonetheless."

Steve looks at their backs, Erica's words echoing in his mind. He is hot.

"Don't let Dustin hear you saying that, Erica," Robin teases her.

"He'd agree with me…"

"Ha! That's what you think, but I tell you his reaction will be sooo much different if he hears you talking about a hot guy," Robin singsongs.

"What? Robin! What are you saying?" Erica leaves and closes the door behind her.

Steve thinks he should care about that exchange, but Eddie's video is replaying in his mind. He sits at his desk and hides his face behind his hands, muffling a groan.

The door opens again and Steve looks up to see a flustered Erica showing her head, smiling shyly.

"Chef?"

"Yeah?"

"His youtube channel," Erica says in a low voice. "Is 'demon in the kitchen', chef. I thought you’d be interested, you know, for academic purposes."

Erica shrugs before Steve can answer her, and closes the door again, leaving Steve all alone with his thoughts and his body’s reactions.

When Steve finally gets out of his office - once he’s calm and feeling ready to look everyone in the eye again, and his knees aren’t shaking - the kitchen is the coordinated chaos that it always is. No one bats an eye at him. Robin is glazing the mirror gateaux, Erica is focused on the wedding cake she’s decorating.

Dustin is talking with the staff about a new order that must be ready for the next day, and Eddie is nowhere to be seen. Steve lets out a relieved sigh, maybe he can survive the day.

-

On Monday, Stobin Pastry and Cakes is closed so everyone can rest.

Steve spends the morning in bed, his laptop on his thighs and Eddie’s old videos playing nonstop. The videos are the ultimate thirst trap, and Steve feels helpless when, during the fourth video, Eddie is glazing a doughnut and Steve imagines himself, half deliriously, licking Eddie’s fingers clean. The long haired chef pressing them against Steve’s tongue, pushing them back and forth with Steve’s lips wrapping around them, saliva dripping for his chin while Eddie’s eyes are dark and hungry for Steve-

“Oh, for fucks’ sake!” Steve exclaims, closing the laptop with more force than intended.

Steve gets up, his cock tenting the pajamas he’s wearing, and crosses his bedroom to have a shower, his heart beating hard and fast when he undresses and steps into his shower, steam surrounding him.

He tries not to think at all, but he’s aching and leaking, cock throbbing stubbornly, with the steamy hot water falling over his shoulders. Behind his eyelids, Steve can visualize the Eddie he knows, older than the Eddie in the videos, but with a mischievous smile and his big doe eyes. Steve shakes his head before wrapping his fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing it with a little bit more strength than necessary.

“Fuck,” Steve groans, stroking himself slowly and trying to think about- anyone, except his dark haired chef pastry Eddie.

Steve tries to think about broad hands roaming all over his wet body, he pinches his left nipple, moaning throatily. Soft lips that could trail kisses all along his neck, the hot breath of a faceless lover, a solid invisible body pressing against him.

And it works, for a moment.

Steve flicks his wrist during the upstroke and in that lustful second when his mind is blissfully quiet, his fantasy changes: Eddie’s tattooed hands and arms are the ones touching him, his pink, full lips - oh, Steve can see them so clearly - wrapping around the leaking head of his throbbing cock instead of around his fingers, like in that stupid video. And those eyes, those big chocolate eyes focused on him, hungry for Steve-

“Ah, shit!” Steve grunts when, ridiculously soon, his orgasm coils deep in his core and he’s unable to stop himself or to stop the new fantasy.

“Well, fuck,” he sighs at last, letting the water clean his shame. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

-

After their day off, the kitchen is once again alive and buzzing, but Steve feels like shit. Disgusted with himself, disgusted with the fact that he spent his day off fantasizing about his pastry chef. Eddie. Ugh.

Fucking ugh.

Steve feels far more exhausted than ever, with Eddie’s music playing through the speakers while they all work frantically to satisfy the customers.

Eddie, of course, ignores Steve’s inner turmoil and the effect he has on his boss.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” Eddie says to Steve, flirty and out of the blue. Steve wants to punch him. In his mouth. With his lips. Fuck.

“That’s not how we do things here-,” Steve starts protesting, but Eddie simply laughs.

If only Eddie knew how hard Steve is trying to keep things professional, for both of them. If only Steve could yell at Eddie and tell him he’s seen his videos, his sinfully hot and weird and sometimes disgusting videos; but fuck, Steve is completely obsessed with them. If only Steve could flirt back with Eddie and be selfish.

“Ok, ok, then, close your eyes and open your mouth, chef,” he repeats, and somehow it sounds even dirtier. Steve has to suppress a shiver.

Steve takes a look, making sure no one’s paying attention to them before reluctantly opening his mouth and feeling filthy for it. Filthy and far too aroused thanks to Eddie’s antics.

Eddie tsks when Steve doesn’t close his eyes, but raises a spoonful to his mouth and places it gently on Steve’s tongue. The flavor explosion is immediate when Steve wraps his lips around the spoon and Eddie drags it out: kiwi and pineapple, nutmeg, cinnamon, a touch of rum. Creamy salted caramel and something crunchy, pistachio. Steve closes his eyes now, tasting it, pressing it with his tongue against his palate. He doesn’t moan this time, but he wants to, he really really fucking needs to groan. Eddie’s ego doesn’t need another boost, though.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks him, biting his lower lip, all doe eyed and searching for Steve’s expressions. Opening his eyes to see Eddie looking at him like that doesn’t help to calm his heart beat.

“It’s good, Eddie, it’s really good,” Steve admits, feeling his cheeks burning and taking a second to wonder if he’s going crazy when Eddie’s eyes drop to his lips for a split second. “What are you working on?”

“Do you know that cake for that tropical themed wedding?” Eddie asks, cheeks turning red under Steve’s gaze. Steve nods. “I thought… Maybe this could be the filling, since the bride wants something different and all that, you know.”

Steve shouldn’t find Eddie as endearing as he does right now, bashful and competent and with an extraordinary mind to mix flavors and themes. Fuck.

“With a Madagascar vanilla biscuit?” Steve points up. “What about the icing?”

“Pineapple and rum?” Eddie suggests.

“Try it,” Steve smiles at Eddie. “If it’s good, you’ll be the one making the cake, take Erica with you.”

Eddie beams at him, his smile so wide that his dimples appear, and Steve feels suddenly weak on the knees. Fuck.

“Yes, chef,” he says so softly that it could be a whisper, and Steve sighs, focusing back on the gateau he was making, completely distracted by the whole interaction.

-

Three months into Steve’s life with Eddie in it, and Steve is finally, finally accepting the fact that he’s working with an extremely hot and talented man, and that he has developed something like a crush for him.

Not a big deal, Steve is a professional and he can work with Eddie. He’s even learning to flirt back, still testing the waters, not wanting to push any of Eddie’s boundaries. Eddie seems to enjoy their little interactions.

It’s just that, well, Eddie is touching Steve now. Small touches, pats in his shoulder, hands on his waist whenever Eddie has to pass behind him; it’s nothing really, silly little innocent touches that maybe, maybe linger more than they should.

Two weeks ago, Steve was holding a spoon for Eddie to grab it, and when he did, Eddie’s finger traced Steve’s knuckles and he smiled at him before he grabbed the spoon. Steve felt like swooning, like a fair maiden being courted or whatever. He had to hide in the bathroom for ten minutes after that because he was hyperventilating.

The fact that Steve’s love life is nonexistent doesn’t help either, but it’s not like Steve has time or will to meet someone new. Nor does he want to meet someone else, not when his stupid heart harbors this new and stupid hope.

Hoping that maybe Eddie’s flirting means something. Hoping that Eddie, with his hard work for Stobin Pastry, with his videos for the bakery’s instagram - gaining more and more subscribers everyday - and his new ideas. All of this means that Eddie is earnest in his intentions.

They haven’t talked about this, of course. Fuck, Steve hasn’t even told Robin about his crush. He can’t admit it out loud, it’d be so real if he does it. For the last three months Steve has been nursing these new feelings alone and silently.

Steve enters the pastry like usual, turns on the ovens to preheat them, checks the different doughs for the day… He even plays the music so Eddie’s playlist starts blasting through the speakers. And he waits.

Erica comes, showing Steve a ridiculously artistic photograph that Robin sent her using an eggplant and a peach, and they both laugh, but Steve is feeling antsy. Eddie isn’t here, and usually Eddie is already there, waiting for Steve to open the back door of the bakery, scrolling his phone idly. Eddie is never late.

The providers come and go, Erica’s in charge today, Steve’s barely paying attention to her or the providers. It’s been an hour and a half and still no sign of Eddie. Not even a text or a call.

Robin and Dustin arrive with fresh figs and some more fresh fruit, but Steve ignores them, his fingers hovering over his phone, wondering if he should call Eddie.

“Where’s Eddie?” Dustin asks, looking around the kitchen.

“I- I don’t know, he didn’t show up this morning,” Steve answers with a tremor in his voice.

What if he’s hurt? What if something terrible has happened to Eddie? Steve decides to call the guy, maybe it’s a silly thing. The alarm didn’t ring this morning, or some stupid thing that could happen to everyone. And yet, Steve presses Eddie’s number with shaking hands.

No signal.

Steve sighs, hands tugging at his hair and feeling desperate.

This is completely absurd, Eddie is probably ok, Steve just has to be patient and Eddie will explain to him once he arrives, that’ll be any moment now.

And he does, when he finally arrives and enters the kitchen half an hour later, sweating and red faced, with a small blonde girl in his arms, clinging to his neck, glassy bright blue eyes looking everywhere.

Steve looks at the little girl and then Eddie, not realizing he has dropped his jaw until Eddie’s eyes lock with his.

“Hello everyone, sorry I’m so late,” Eddie says, voice trembling. His eyes never leave Steve’s. “This little girl is CJ, she’s- She’s my kid.”

The kitchen seems haunted by an eerie, tense silence. Dustin is gaping, Erica’s jaw drops just as Steve and Robin’s eyes are wide open in a shell shocked expression.

“Your kid?” She manages to ask, darting glances to Steve.

“Yeah, well-” Eddie’s eyes are still locked with Steve, cheeks burning red. “I just…”

Steve feels - stupid, hopeless, helpless, betrayed, heartbroken, angry, desperate, miserable, incredibly relieved that Eddie is safe - like dying inside.

“Almost three hours late, Munson,” Steve grits through his teeth, his voice harsh and far too sharp. Also, Munson? He hadn’t called Eddie by his surname like, ever, and definitely not in this tone. “What do you think this place is? Your own personal playground?”

Eddie’s eyes flicker and show a thousand little expressions in the fraction of a second, his brows frowned in pain and confusion.

“I- Steve, let me explain-” Eddie’s voice is frail and Steve hates it. Steve hates that such a small detail breaks his heart a bit more, while Eddie’s kid is right there, looking at Steve with fear in her beautiful blue eyes.

“Chef,” Steve reminds him, feeling completely stupid and on the verge of a panic attack, anxiety crawling over his skin.

“Chef, please,” Eddie whispers at him, eyes pleading.

“This is not a kindergarten,” Steve snaps finally. “Take the day off if you need it. Everyone, get back to work, now!”

Steve storms out of the kitchen to hide in his office, falling into his chair with despair and hiding his face in his hands, feeling completely out of control.

What the fuck?

“What the fuck was that, chef?” Robin, of course, followed him and is now closing the door behind her so she can reprimand Steve.

“Robs-”

“Since when are you a complete moron, Steve?” Robin demands, pacing in front of him. He can hear her furious steps, but he still can’t look at his best friend. “The poor man has been trying to impress you since he stepped into the bakery, his work is impeccable, and you treat him like shit, Steve, have you noticed?”

Steve grunts.

“Since when is my best friend a jerk?” Robin asks, oh, she’s really angry at Steve, but not as angry as Steve is with himself. “This is not a kindergarten? Really? Have you seen-”

“I freaked out, ok?!” Steve spits at last, looking at her like the desperate man he is. “I thought he had an accident! I called him and- And then he appears with his kid? I didn’t know he’s married with children, ok? I didn’t know!”

Steve knows he’s making no sense, and yet, he’s letting out more than he wants. His own heartache takes control of his words, all the bottled up feelings spilling out now.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, I just-,” Steve sighs, defeated. “It’s absurd, I know, I’m being absurd.”

Robin sits in the chair in front of Steve, sighing too, far too quiet for Steve’s liking, and he knows she’s already connecting all the dots.

“So, it’s not that you hate Eddie, as Dustin and Eddie himself believe,” Robin guesses, and fuck, she guesses right.

“He thinks I hate him?” Steve asks with a strangled voice.

“That’s all the proof I needed,” Robin smiles sadly at him. “I’m sorry, Steve, it must be difficult for you, Eddie never mentioned a wife or a kid, I thought he was-”

“Yeah, me too, I think it was like, wishful thinking for me, you know?” Steve tries to laugh, but it sounds like a sad bark.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Robin says sincerely, leaning in to pat Steve’s hand. “I think you two have chemistry, like, I was convinced that it was going to happen, sooner or later.”

“You never told me that.”

Robin simply shrugs at that, and to be honest, it doesn’t matter anymore.

“You still owe him an apology, Steve, you were a jerk to him, and his kid, and a broken heart is not really an excuse, you know.”

“I know, I know,” Steve gets up. “I hate you, my little moral compass.”

“Aw, babe, but I’m so good at it.”

-

Once Steve comes back to the kitchen, the initial commotion has faded and everything is again in movement. More or less.

Robin has everyone working the moment she steps out of the office, she’s good at it, far better than Steve. He always enjoyed the creative part more than the boss part. Maybe that’s why Steve doesn’t know how to hire new people or how to face Eddie now, after his little scene just minutes ago.

Dustin and Erica are together, with Eddie’s little girl on the countertop in front of them, making her giggle and - Steve squints at them - giving her chocolate mousse. Dustin is holding the spoon for the kid, CJ, while Erica is looking fondly at Dustin.

Steve sighs, thinking that probably he’ll have to deal with whatever is blooming between these two, but not now. Now he has to find Eddie and apologize to him, and meanwhile he can accept the fact that Eddie is a taken man.

Before he can take a step forward, Robin is already looking at him and points with her chin towards the adjacent kitchen, the one where Eddie records the videos. Steve nods at her sharply, takes a deep breath, and goes to find Eddie.

The long haired chef is there, looking miserable. He has his face hidden in the crook of his arms, slumped against the clean, empty counter, his curls wild and loose, covering his head and shoulders.

He doesn’t notice Steve when he enters the kitchen. Steve opens his mouth, but closes it again, unsure about what to say. The words feel heavy in his sore chest, all that crumpled hope like a bitter ache, making everything a bit more difficult for Steve,

But Robin is right. Eddie never made a move towards Steve, not really. What if the man is flirty by nature? Steve is the one with the stupid crush, and the one that let things get this far.

Deciding to do the right thing, Steve clears his throat, loud enough for Eddie to hear him. Steve grimaces at the startled long haired chef when he looks up, straightening in his spot as a militar. His big doe eyes are glassy and his brows are pinched, his whole pretty face contorted in a painful expression.

Well done, Harrington, Steve thinks.

“Steve!” Eddie squeaks. “I mean, chef, I’m sorry, I- It would never happen again, I just-”

Steve shakes his head, taking a step forward. Seeing Eddie like this shouldn’t hurt him this much, and knowing that he made it worse it’s actually killing Steve from the inside.

“No, Eddie, I am sorry,” Steve sighs, forcing himself to be an adult and look at Eddie’s eyes while he apologizes. “That was completely out of place, I should have asked you if you were ok, if everything was ok, not- I didn’t handle it well, and I’m sorry for that.”

Eddie makes a throaty sound that sounds like a very confused frog.

“Well, you’re the boss and I was late-” Eddie starts to say, sounding defeated. His next words he says them in a rush, as if Steve wouldn’t listen to him if he takes too much time saying them. “I don’t want to lose my job, chef, I love my job, I love working here, please-”

“What?” Steve frowns. “Eddie, I’m not firing you, and please, stop calling me chef.”

Steve decides that today they need to talk, today he has to properly meet Eddie Munson, pastry chef of Stobin, instead of assuming things and let his crush take the best of him.

He leads Eddie to the office, but of course, Dustin has to be the annoying nosy kid - now taller and broader and with stubble, but still a kid for Steve - and jumps in front of them.

“You can’t fire him, Steve!” He says, in that strangled tone he uses whenever he’s chastising Steve. That is, more often than it should be. “That’s not cool, just because-”

“Shouldn’t you be working on that order of cinnamon rolls?” Steve interrupts him, putting a hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “Take Erica and CJ with you if that’s what you want, and we both can talk later, in the office.”

Dustin opens his mouth again, but Steve smiles at him.

“I’m not going to fire Eddie, dude, relax,” Steve promises. Dustin is looking at him with those puppy eyes, lips pressed together in a fine line, but nods sharply after a moment.

“Yes, chef,” Dustin says before leaving, trotting towards Erica, who is still with Eddie’s kid.

Steve closes the door of the office behind them. It’s a simple space, a few chairs, the desk with the computer on top, a couch with a cozy blanket. There are a few shelves, full of cooking books and notebooks written by hand, Steve and Robin’s own recipes and tips, techniques and ideas.

There’s also a coffee machine and a lot of mismatched, novelty mugs. Steve doesn’t waste a moment and picks two of them, pouring coffee onto them.

“Milk and sugar?” Steve asks Eddie, and points at him to sit on the couch.

“Just sugar is ok, thank you.”

It hurts to see Eddie like this, deflated and sad and nothing like his usual self. Steve’s heart clenches at the sight, but he’s decided to ask and to know who Eddie Munson is.

Steve puts one of the mugs in front of Eddie, Dustin’s mug, with yellow ducklings painted on it. Steve holds his own mug, his favorite, the one the kids bought him long ago for father’s day. It says Steve #1 Dad, a private joke between them all.

“Well,” Steve drags one of the chairs until he can sit in front of Eddie. “I know I should have done this when we hired you months ago, but, as you can see I’m terrible at this.”

“You’re not the worst boss I’ve ever had, Steve,” Eddie manages to smile shyly, and it calms Steve’s nerves a bit.

“Yeah, well, I can be better,” Steve smiles back at him. “Ok, Edward Munson, tell me a bit about you.”

#steddie facfiction #steddie #steve harrington loves eddie munson #eddie munson loves steve harrington #getting together #falling in love #single dad Eddie Munson #fluffy chicken writes #Taste of love fic

[wogwyz]

- 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖤𝖱 1 ;

❜ 𝖧𝗂, 𝖦𝗈𝗈𝖽𝖻𝗒𝖾 ❛

warning; sexual harrasment, insensitive jokes, hatred

wrds; 923

masterlist | next

READERS POV

"Do I really have to?" Jungwon whined after the teacher assigned your seat next to him. It's a new school year, Jungwon hated you ever since, He is intimidated by you because all you do is one up the things he's good at, except sports, of course. "I can sit alone for the rest of the year, miss" Jungwon added, puppy eyed the teacher. "No, I want both of you to get along, your fights are affecting your conduct" the teacher replied while she grabs her book. Jungwon sighed and looked at you, "Don't even think about borrowing stuff from me" He warned you and lifted his top lip a bit as a sign of annoyance. "Whatever, you'll probably end up borrowing mine" You replied and smirked at him. Jungwon whined "You're so annoying"

30 minutes later, the bell rang, it's time to go home. You were about to step out the classroom until you felt someone behind you and called your name "Y/n." You knew it was Jungwon, "What do you want?" You looked behind and up at him. "You're annoying" Jungwon chuckled and bumped into you making you move out the way, you watched him leave the room and walked away. You still don't know why he's so upset and threatened by you, are you that perfect for a guy to be so jealous? Those thoughts wander around your mind as you walk home.

The next day, You arrived at school early making you one of the 5 students to arrive early. 15 minutes later, Jungwon walked in the classroom, every girl was simping and head over heels for him, but you? you can't even imagine yourself holding hands or even eating lunch with him without being disgusted. Jungwon walked to his seat beside you, he glanced at you and sat down. "Why are you here so early? Were you excited to see your new cute seatmate?" He teased you and smirks. "The fuck? You? Cute? No fucking way" You replied and side eyed him. "Why so defensive?" He laughed and looked at the girls behind him head over heels for him, they all let out a squeal as Jungwon looked back, "Of course I'm cute'' He grinned and wore his headphones. Whatever the class nerd is still better than him, you thought to yourself.

After school, You went to a cafe near your school because you feel like treating yourself today. "One caramel macchiato please." You sat down waiting for your order to be served. Your order came and you enjoyed your coffee, but you felt someone approaching you. You looked up and saw an unfamilliar guy coming your way, he's in his mid 30, "Hey pretty" He walked up to you and smiled. What the hell? you thought to yourself, you're very creeped out and in an uncomfortable situation. You just smiled at him and before you even get to take another sip of your drink the guy spoke again, "What are you doing here all alone" He said and sat on the chair infront of you. You couldn't respond because of how uncomfortable you are, and the fact you sat on the seat where its least crowded is uncomfortable enough for you to be alone with a guy on his 30s. "Oh, I'm just waiting for someone" You replied, and looked down to take a sip of your drink. "Your boyfriend?" He looked down at your chest "It doesn't look like you have one.." He smirked at you. "Oh.. haha, yeah" You felt a shiver knowing you're probably in trouble right now and this guy could do something to you. "Do you wanna come to my place?" The guy touched your hand that was resting on the table, you tried to pull away but he gripped it. "Uh, can you let go?" You requested, you tried to control your tempt but the guy didn't let go and just looked at you. "Please, let go" You looked back at him. "I'll let go once you agree" he tightens his grip. "No, I can't i-" before you could finish your sentence, a voice cut you off. "Hi babe!" Someone was walking to your table, you looked up and widen your eyes as you saw Jungwon was approaching you. "Huh?" Jungwon looked at the creep's hand on yours "Who is he? Your uncle?" Jungwon looked at you confused, you shook your head 'no' in response. The creep let go off your hand and stood up, but before he could walk away, Jungwon grabbed his arm and twisted it a bit "Yah! If I see you doing this again, I will fucking break you and tell my father" Jungwon death stared the guy and lets go off him as the guy ran to the exit and dozed off.

"You know him?" You asked Jungwon. "He works for my dad, I knew that guy was pain in the ass, anyways thank me for saving you. You act all cool and shit at school but can't even save yourself from these scenarios." He looked down at you. "Thank you" You smiled slightly and rolled your eyes, but deep down you're really thankful that Jungwon was there to stop that creep, who knows what that guy has in his sleeves. "Whatever. Piece of advice, go sit somewhere crowded, not here, What are you? A total loser?" He scoffed and walked away.

You sigh in relief watching Jungwon walked away. You realized its getting late as well, You decided to leave and rest at home.

END OF CHAPTER 1

#enhypen #jungwon #enhypen fanfic #jungwon fanfic #enhypen fluff #jungwon fluff #jungwon angst #jungwon enhypen #enhypen jungwon #enhypen angst #enhypen facfiction #enhypen x reader #jungwon x reader #enhypen belift #engene #engene jungwon

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The One I've Been Waiting For {Part 13 of 13}

Word count: 1.3 K

Summary: Billy Hargrove is just one of the many students you're supposed to help. The last thing you expect from your interaction is that he'll start flirtt with you... Much less that Billy would stir up feelings you'd rather keep hidden. Despite the mutual sentiments that soon enough start to grow, there are a lot of reasons for whatever it is to be left alone, and one of them is your age...

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

A/N: In this story, reader is 5 years older than Billy, who's 18.

•••

Epilogue

 You're seated on Billy's lap on the armchair, softly swinging your legs. He's explaining about this new research he'll be participating in his internship. Billy is currently studying whales, and you've never seen him so excited about anything before. He even got you a necklace with a whale's tail pendant.

 “And that means I get to bring you when we go whale watching.” He says, pecking your lips. “The Marine Biologist and the veterinarian. We're a perfect match.”

 “No shit! Really?” You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. “That will be amazing.” Kissing him again, you only pull away when the bell rings.

 “I'm showering!” Max yells from her bedroom.

 “Maxine, aren't you the official door opener?” Billy shouts back.

 “Well, since I'm at the top this time, I'll get the door.” You say, pushing yourself up and winking at Billy. Before you even open the door, you know who's on the other side because of the many voices. So you yell at the same time you pull the door open, at the top of your lungs. “YOU'RE ONE DAY EARLY!” You burst out, making them scream like scared, little babies.

 “Damn it!” Billy mutters from the inside, and you know you scared him too.

 Looking at the kids, you smile. They'll spend two weeks here with Maxine, but you guess they decided to make a surprise and show up earlier. “Come on in.” Stepping aside, you watch as the small army moves inside. Mike is carrying a box, which gets your attention. “What's that about?”

 “It's your first-anniversary gift.” Eleven answers as Mike puts it on the couch. “But you can't open until Wednesday.”

 “But now I'm curious!” You complain, walking over to the box.

 But Lucas and Dustin stand in your way. “Nah, nah. Wednesday only.”

 Showing off your tongue, you go back to Billy, sitting on his lap again. “Let's wake up real early and take a peak.” You whisper in his ear.

 “Definitely.” He answers, placing a soft kiss on your neck.

 You've been married for almost a year now. You and Billy had a simple party, for family and friends only. It was beautiful, and it happened on the beach. And Billy has been a responsible man now, a loving, gentle husband. There were times when he told you that he was scared to be like his father, but you told him then, and you'll keep telling him for as long as he needs, that he isn't.

 Some people say that you got married too early, still trying to find flaws in your life. But the truth is that every day with Billy is the best day ever. You do have some arguments, but you never go to sleep before settling things down. Love is the priority, and neither of you will let anything get in the way of that.

 But what really matters to you, is how happy Billy is. He tells you that almost every day when you wake up, still in bed. He thanks you for the life you've given him, for your love and patience. He says that he doesn't think he deserves this. But he does.

 When Maxine is done showering and comes to the living room, you smile to see how happy she is with the surprise. Life is good now, and it'll only get better.

°°°

 Billy's heart is filled with good things. Only good things. He left the past where it belongs. All the anger, the bitterness, the agony... She chased it all away. (Y/N), the light of his life.

 “So, Wednesday,” Maxine says, a finger pointing at (Y/N) and her brother. “You two will have an amazing romantic day at that super romantic hotel, and then come back here for your party.”

 “And open this huge box!” (Y/N) says, jumping on his lap a little.

 “And to open your gift.” Max rolls her eyes. “But until then-”

 “Beach. Pretty please.” Dustin asks in a fake begging tone. “I've been daydreaming about his for weeks. Can we just go?”

 “Go put on your swimsuits, kids.” (Y/N) is still speaking when they move. Billy caresses her side to get her attention and smiles at her when she looks down at him.

 “Why don't we go change as well? There will be a nice sunset today.”

 “Mmm.” She raises an eyebrow, a half smile on her lips. “The kids will crowd the house for a few days. And we'll have plenty of time to join them at the beach. Why don't we stay here and enjoy some alone time?”

 At this awesome idea, Billy smirks. “It sounds way better than going to the beach with some kids.”

 “It sure does, love.”

 “I love it when you call me that.” He whispers, his thumb caressing her lower lip. And he does. It melts his heart every damn time. Hearing her use that word referring to him in that soft, honey voice... Drives him crazy.

°°°

 “That's precisely why I call you that, love.” Smiling, you stand up. “And you should enjoy some action while you still can. I'm late this month so any day now.” You say, stopping before the box. You were super embarrassed in the beginning when it came to these things, but Billy always made you feel comfortable. “What the hell can this be?”

 “You're late.” He says, and you glance at him before looking down at the box again.

 “Yeah, that's what I said.”

 “You're... Really late.” He repeats and, deciding to leave the box be, for now, you turn towards him.

 “... Are you keeping track of my period, Billy Hargrove?” Crossing your arms, you raise an eyebrow.

 “Yeah. I drive past the drugstore every day, I'm the one who buys you tampons most of the time, (Y/N) Hargrove.” That makes you blush, and you stick your tongue out at him before walking to the kitchen. “And...” He starts, following you and leaning against the sink as you take a bottle of water. “It's always a party when your period is over. For both of us.” With that stupid smirk on, Billy comes closer, pinning you against the sink.

 “Would you keep it down? We have a bunch of kids to be aware of.” You whisper.

 “How late are you, babe?”

 “I don't know. I don't really keep track of it. I only know it's coming because I have cramps.” Shrugging your shoulders, you look at the fridge, at the calendar. “Mmm... Been a while actually.”

 “So.” He mutters, his big hand laying on your stomach. “There's a possibility it won't be coming any time soon.”

 “What?” You nervously chuckle, pushing him away when you hear the kids coming. “I don't think so, Billy.”

 “Well, we're not always being careful, are we?”

 “And whose fault is that?” You ask, hands on your hips.

 “Fifty percent mine.” He answers with a smile.

 “Billy, forget it. I'm just...” Your voice fades as you take a closer look at the calendar. “...Around two weeks late.”

 “Kids!” He yells, startling you. “You gotta walk. I'm taking car one to the drugstore and car two won't fit all of you.”

 “What the hell, Billy,” Maxine complains, coming to the kitchen with her army behind her. “What do you need from there? We have the meds box, and it's full.”

 “I'm not buying any meds.” He says, as you just watch the scene, arms crossed. “I just need a pregnancy test.” And with that, he's off, leaving you with all of those wide-eyed kids.

 “Oh. My. God.” Dustin mutters.

 “Holy shit, I can't believe it!” Maxine shouts, and you slide a hand under your shirt, touching your belly.

 It's still too early to be sure, but you were never been this late before... And you remember feeling sick a couple of days ago. So maybe, just maybe, there's a tiny, fresh life growing inside you.

 “Maybe...” You whisper, a smile taking over your lips at the thought of having a baby with Billy. “Maybe.”

•••

@aunicornmademedoit @alexa4040 @goth-cowgirl-03 @nyctophilic0vitnir @minispice-1

#billy hargrove imagine #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things facfiction

[trust-and-jump]

Niiiiceeeeee

#fic writing #batfam fic #batman facfiction #reverse robins #ao3 comments

[metablood]

With Shinsou in class 1-A the story would be too short (En/Fr)

In English

What if Shinou had a chance to enter the hero course at the begining of the schoolyear instead of Mineta... The shortest fanfiction.

"Hey Shigaraki ! Do you have any opinion about SOCIETY ?"

"Of course, first..."

"OK now touch your butt with your quirk"

Now buttless, weak, Shigaraki lays on the floor. Ms Joke forces him to laugh as the cops pass the quirk-supressing handcuffs on him.

It would be even easyer for AFO, that man CANNOT shut the hell up!

En français

Et si Shinsou avait eu une chance d'intégrer 2-A dès la rentrée à la place de Mineta... La plus courte des fanfictions.

"Hey, Shigaraki, as tu une opinion sur la SOCIETE ?"

"Bien sûr, tout d'abord..."

"OK maintenant touche ton cul avec ton alter"

Désormais dénué de fesses, affaibli, Shigaraki est étendu au sol. Ms Joke le force à rire alors que les flics lui passent les menottes anti-alter.

Ce serait encore plus facile pour AFO, cet homme ne PEUX PAS la fermer !

#mha #mha headcanons #mha fanfiction #bnha facfiction #shinsou hitoshi #mindjack #class 1 a #shigaraki #Metablood minific #Metablood HC

[multyeverything]

Roomates are not boyfriend material

Autor: multyeverything

TW: Amor/atracción no correspondido, groserías e insultos leves, angustia, sexualidad, uso de sustancias nocivas, comportanmiento infantil, sin final feliz.

Rating: 18+

Sinopsis: La universidad es una etapa de aprendizaje, tanto profesional como emocional. El estudio va a ser la menor de tus preocupaciones si vives con personas que están dispuestas a romper o reparar tu corazón. Desiciones, la vida está llena de ellas... ¿Pero cuál es la correcta? ¿Aventura y pasión o dulzura y amor?

Au: Roomates / Universidad

Emparejando: Lee Jeno X T/N X Jeong Jaehyun

Conteo: 4.2K palabras

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¿Cómo describir la situación con Jaehyun en este momento?

Complicada.

Todo se ha tornado demasiado incómodo para continuar viviendo bajo el mismo techo, hasta preferir quedarme tiempos extras en la cafetería donde me explotan laboralmente o tener interminables trabajos de la universidad, así de incómodo me es vivir en las mismas cuatro paredes que él. Es fácil pensarían, "solo vete de ahí", pero la despedida será demasiado dolorosa es por eso que la he evitado lo más posible. Lo sigo queriendo de cierta forma e irme significaría romperle el corazón a mi otro compañero.

En puntitas salgo directo a la puerta del departamento para ir a mis clases, he pasado demasiado tiempo esperando oír algún sonido que confirme que ya se ha ido o sigue aquí. Si no salgo pronto llegaré tarde. Dando la vuelta por el pasillo que bifurca en la sala de estar y la entrada, lo encuentro parado esperando mi aparición.

- Hice el desayuno, esperaba que pudiéramos comer juntos antes de que te fueras. -

Sin otra opción me siento en la pequeña barra de la cocina que la conecta a la ya mencionada sala, frente a él. Me tiento el corazón a rechazar su comida, no sé decirle no. Aceptando otra falta en mi boleta.

- He querido hablar contigo desde hace varios días t/n, pero nunca coincidimos en la universidad y pareciera que me ignoras en casa. Ya no ves películas con nosotros, estudias todo el día si no trabajas o estás en casa de alguien más, ya ni siquiera dormimos juntos cuando hace frío. Y déjame decirte que el calefactor ha fallado en los últimos días, he pasado una helada pero no puedo estar contigo porque corres el seguro en tu puerta. Dime, ¿Hice algo malo? - Una mueca de preocupación perturba su bellísimo rostro, que ahora cuenta con unas notables ojeras. Mastico rápidamente el waffle con fruta que ha puesto.

- Jae, no te negaré nada de lo que me has dicho. Tampoco trataré de justificarlo, pero... No me parece que sea correcto hacer todo eso, esa es la razón de evitarte. -

- Pero... Es lo que hacemos. -

- No es correcto. -

- Entonces te hice enojar para que cambies de opinión. Dime y lo cambiaré, pediré disculpas. Dime qué hice y no se repetirá.-

- No hiciste nada. -

- ¿Es por Jeno? -

- ¿Qué tiene que ver él con esto? -

- Nada, pensé que pudo haber hablado mal de mí contigo. Últimamente actúa raro también. -

- ¿Por qué hablaría mal de ti? -

- No lo sé. -

- Jae olvídalo, debo irme. -

- No has terminado tu desayuno. -

- Lo llevaré para el camino. -

- Lo guardo por ti y te llevo a tu edificio. -

- No tienes qué. -

- Pero quiero, ve el clima. Puedes caerte. -

Solo le doy por su lado y acepto todo lo que quiera hacer. Incluso de camino a clases tomo su brazo para no resbalar en el congelado camino; los días de invierno son terribles en este lado del país y la gélidas noches lo son aún peor para quienes duermen sin quién los caliente. Tiene razón, desde que lo veté de mi compañía me ha costado conciliar el sueño con tanto temblor a causa de la baja temperatura.

Me aferro a su musculoso brazo hasta casi hundir la cara en su chamarra, extraño tanto de sus abrazos que el corazón físicamente me duele. Quisiera que las cosas volvieran a ser lo de antes. Volver a vivir en esa bendita ignorancia que antes me hacía tan feliz.

Pero no, no es posible. Y ver a Mercedes correr a nosotros es un recordatorio del porqué mi distanciamiento con Jaehyun. Ella es la que debería dormir en su cama, comer a su lado y hacer el amor cada noche hasta desfallecer; no yo, no su simple compañera de departamento y ligue fallido.

- Gracias, mi salón es este. Pasa un buen día compañero. -

- t/n... -

- Adiós Jae. Saluda a tu novia de mi parte. -

¿Me adelanté demasiado a la historia?

Claro que lo hice, siempre me apresuro, retrocedamos unos años a mi relato para ponerlos en contexto.

La NCIT es la universidad más prestigiosa para carreras de ingeniería e informatica del país, la mejor sin duda. A la cual tengo la suerte de ser aceptada, así que me dedico a encontrar un departamento cómodo y económico para vivir los próximos 5 años de mi vida, por suerte aparece una muy buena opción con los mínimos inconvenientes para mis padres. Dos inconvenientes más bien, los cuales se llaman Jeno Lee y Jaehyun Jeong. Mis padres odiaron la idea de dos hombres conviviendo tan de cerca con una mujer.

No tienen respeto

Todos los hombres son iguales

Se aprovecharán de ti

No es de damas

Verás cosas que no debes ver

Son sucios

Bla bla bla, lo que dicen todos los padres. Que ahora desearía haber escuchado.

Al principio me pareció incómodo igualmente pero tras la convivencia tan cercana pude darme cuenta que jamás habría mejores y más respetuosos roommates que ellos. Jeno tenía una hermana con la que se crío para ser respetuoso y Jaehyun cómo hijo único se le prestó toda la atención para enseñarle modales.

La química entre nosotros tres fue inmediata, era improbable por la diferencia de edades, pero hecha realidad por la buena vibra y disposición que tuvimos cada uno. Si bien los hombres tienen que ser hombres, el lugar siempre estaba limpio (excepto por el ocasional desorden) y se mantenían vestidos en mi presencia. El que trajeran chicas me era irrelevante siempre y cuando mantuvieran el ruido al mínimo y sus amiguitas no estuvieran al día siguiente, cosa que creo que cumplieron porque nunca me enteré de la presencia de alguna, hasta puedo asegurar que nunca las hubo.

Cómo sea, nos volvimos muy cercanos antes de acabar mi primer semestre de universidad: preparábamos y comíamos juntos, íbamos al gimnasio, salíamos de fiesta a las fraternidades e incluso conocimos a la familia de cada uno.

Increíble ¿Cierto?

Casi al final del segundo semestre, Jeno conoció a una chica con la que comenzó a salir apenas pasada una semana de verse por primera vez. Se alejó de nosotros de golpe y las únicas veces en las que coincidíamos eran en las fiestas (si es que no nos ignoraba) fuera de nuestro hogar. Una época muy oscura la verdad.

El encontrarlo por el angostísimo pasillo del departamento era casi tan terrible que caminar por vidrios; un "buenos días" sin mirarte a la cara y con suerte se quedaba a desayunar, sino, aveces ni tocaba el plato que habíamos hecho para él. Cero contacto amistoso con nosotros durante casi tres meses, que se sintieron una eternidad.

Más tarde que temprano terminaron su relación por los altos niveles de celos de ella y lo "mucho que nos había extrañado".

Al no ser rencorosos, lo aceptamos a la manda de nuevo en seguida.

Después de eso es donde todo empezó a irse al carajo lentamente: No soy fea, para nada, de hecho consideraría mi atractivo visual excelente. Solo que nunca me ha agradado ir de cama en cama o de relaciones fallidas a otra nueva destinada al fracaso. Hubieron varios chicos: Yuta, Johnny, Chris... Todos en buenos términos en la actualidad pero siempre había esa cosa que evitaba que formalizaramos algo más que una amistad. Al vernos solos por tanto tiempo y "teniendo las bases de una amistad", Jaehyun propuso salir en citas de vez en cuando. MALA IDEA... TERRIBLE.

Si bien es todo un caballero, le es muy difícil cumplir la labor de fidelidad. En pequeños aspectos como intercambiar mensajes casuales con chicas que sabes que están flechadas por ti, hasta coquetear descaradamente en tu cara. Su gran defecto opacaba las muchas virtudes que tenía; era una gran mancha roja difícil de ignorar. El tratar de compensarlo con regalos o tiempo de calidad conmigo lo volvía más tedioso. No duró mucho esa etapa nuestra, además de frustrarnos por no ser lo que esperabamos, Jeno se vió extrañamente afectado por eso. Poniéndome en sus zapatos, lo comprendo al 100%; él acababa de salir de una relación toxica que lo alejaba de nosotros para que ahora nosotros seamos quienes lo alejan.

No le tomó mucho a Jae para seguir con su vida amorosa, no esperaba que me guardara cierto "luto" tras nuestro fracaso (porque nunca se alejó del mercado de citas estando conmigo) pero fue hiriente hasta cierto punto que la presencia de las chicas comenzara a notarse tan descaradamente. Como si intentar algo conmigo hubiese despertado algo o quedase tan inconforme que necesita alguien con quién olvidarlo.

¿Qué hice al respecto? Nada. Nunca le hice una escena, comenté al respecto o quejé por mis pertenencias que desaparecían cada vez que venía con alguna de ellas. Sería darle una importancia que definitivamente no quería darle. Me dediqué a ser una mejor estudiante y ahorrar el dinero que ganaba vendiendo café los fines de semana. Con todo mi tiempo repartido en éstas actividades, no podría ni pensar en él.

Cerré mi corazón por un tiempo a posibles romances, apesar de que los chicos no dejaban de buscarme, entre ellos Yuta. Quién parecía ser el mejor de todos, con su sonrisa coqueta y frialdad ante todos los que no fuéramos cercanos a él, lo admito, me gustaba presumir que formaba parte de su grupo especial. Que pudiera ver esa perfecta sonrisa sin intentarlo demasiado y que él sin mayor problema iba a buscarme al trabajo para que no caminara sola o compraba cada clase de tontería que creía me gustaría, esas y más cosas que enamorarían a cualquiera. Varios meses de intentos fallidos lo llevaron a ver la difícl verdad: No importa cuan duro tratara, no me enamoraría.

- Sé que sientes algo por mí, muy profundo en ese pequeño corazón, sé que nos hacemos bien mutuamente, que cuando salimos el tiempo parece nunca ser suficiente. Pero también sé que lo que sientes por mí no es lo mismo que yo, está bien, no tienes que amarme. -

- Suena como si fuera la peor persona del mundo. - Tomo su mano fuerte, él la acerca sin soltarnos a mi cara para acariciarme.

- No es mi intención t/n, en verdad, sólo quiero aclararlo. También quiero hacerte saber que lo entiendo, no te presionaré a que me correspondas como yo quisiera. -

- En un futuro tal vez podríamos ser algo más... Pero ahora por alguna razón mi corazón no está listo. -

- ¿Te hirieron? ¿Sientes algo por alguien más? -

- No no, Yuta no es eso... Es que yo... -

- ¿Sin palabras? No te presiones linda, la razón por la que te estoy siendo directo no es para cargarte con otro peso, esperaba que si era directo contigo las cosas tomarían otro rumbo. -

- Eso no me suena a libre de presiones. -

- Tienes razón, que tonto soy. -

- Tal vez si. - Nos reímos ante la situación

- Pero por más que me duela, soy consciente que no podré dejar que desearte como lo hago ahora... Espero y algún día podamos estar juntos, cuando tú corazón esté listo ¿Si? -

Y continuamos nuestra amistad como si nada; con mensajes constantes y visitas en mi trabajo para acompañarme en mi hora de comida, ya que Yuta es mayor que yo y no estudia en NCIT.

Volviendo al tema central, se preguntarán cómo es que llegué a compartir cama con Jaehyun. Bien, tras sentirme culpable por rechazar al mejor chico que había conocido en mucho tiempo, necesitaba distraerme urgentemente de la culpa que tenía. Las chicas y yo iniciamos con un precopeo a las 6 PM, llegamos al sitio de la fiesta a las 9 PM y terminamos en un after-party a las 3 del día siguiente en una locación desconocida. Tenía tanto alcohol en mi sistema que pensé caería en coma por ello, porque después de todos somos jóvenes ¿No? Esto no es diario ¿No? TENGO DERECHO A DIVERTIRME CARAJO.

Lo peor que podía ocurrir fue exactamente lo que pasó, alguien puso algo en mi bebida y el poco conocimiento que me quedaba terminó por irse a la mierda. Como un milagro, Jaehyun estaría en el mismo lugar para sacarme de inmediato y llevarme a nuestro departamento; entre él y Jeno me limpiaron de todo vestigio de vómito, sudor o lágrimas dando uso únicamente a toallitas húmedas para no desvestirme.

Me cuidó el resto de la madrugada (muy en contra de la voluntad de Jeno) aún cuando apestaba a inmundicia, me abrazó y dió calor cuando la calentura empezó, fue mi almohada, al despertar no me juzgó o regañó por mi mis actos. Ambos me llevaron a un chequeo al hospital privado que pagaron con sus ahorros y mi salario juntos para que no tuviera que enterarse nadie. 

Las siguientes noches volvería conmigo a la cama con la excusa de cuidarme si quedaba alguna secuela. De ahí, no se separaría de mi por el resto de las noches, siempre se escabulliría conmigo o yo con él utilizado cualquier mentira para ocultar el simple hecho que disfrutábamos hacerlo. Ya sea dormir, tener charlas hasta muy tarde, estudiar, juegar juegos, tener sexo, etc. Creímos que nuestro amigo no se enteraría pero estábamos tan equivocados, ¿Cómo diablos no se enteraría si eramos tan ruidosos como gata en celo? Y me refiero en todo aspecto, maldita sea su manera de llevarme al cielo con su boca, la perfecta sinfonía de sus caderas al embestirme o lo bien que conocen sus dedos mi cuerpo.

Ya sea que no quería molestarnos con eso o que no le importaba, jamás trajo el tema a la mesa de todas maneras y agaradecí por ello. Para repararlo, sería la mejor amiga que alguna vez tuvo:

Maratones de sus aburridas series, dalo por hecho.

Acompañarlo a hacer las minimas tareas, claro.

Ir sin falta a sus competencias de atletismo, por supuesto.

Masajear sus cansadas piernas después de correr más kilometros en una hora que yo en un día, con gusto.

Religiosamente contestar sus mensajes sin sentido, sin mayor problema.

Haría lo que fuera para compensar nuestra aventurilla y mantenerlo feliz. Parecía estar funcionando, logramos crear cierta dinámica que hacía funcionar las cosas en casa, ambos parecían estar conformes y hasta más felices que al inicio, si eso fuera posible.                                                                               Pero nuestra felicidad no podía durar por siempre, los hombres son unos desgraciados que no pueden mantener su miembro o corazón en un mismo sitio. Jae formalizó una relación (o eso decían las malas lenguas) con una de primer año llamada Mercedes, encantadora si no fuera la autora intelectual de mis desgracias; al principio dejó de tener relaciones sexuales conmigo o besarme, cortó todo contacto con sus demás amigas/exes, no me llamaba por apodos, no le importaba que Jeno aveces bromeara con que soy el amor de su vida, y más cosas que se habían vuelto nuestra rutina. Pretendió ser el mejor hombre en la faz de la tierra por unos buenos malditos 5 meses hasta que vio que la pristina Mercedes no se acostaría con él si no existía una relación formal de por medio. Después de eso, volvió al juego conmigo.

La chica es encantadora, lo digo en serio, es tan amigable que me sentía culpable cada vez que venía a cenar con nosotros al departamento o me pedía ayuda con una de sus materias ya que "soy la chica más inteligente que conoce", ¡carajo! es tan amable que cualquier vez que quise ser mala con ella terminé llorando de culpa en mi cama. Eso nos trae aquí ahora; no puedo verla a la cara sin querer confesarle las porquerías que he hecho con su novio a sus espaldas. Me he convertido en la amante que disfruta del lado más carnal de su pareja y lo envía fresco cada mañana para que sea ella quien escuche los te quieros. Me doy asco la mayoría del tiempo, y es esa sensación de repudio conmigo misma la que me ha alejado de todos los que solía frecuentar. Esta mañana fue la gota que derramó el vaso, la insistencia de Jaehyun en volver a nuestros hábitos pero su nulo interés en asentarse conmigo. Él no me ama como yo desearía ni ve como una chica digna para tener una relación más allá de lo sexual, porque como una vez lo dijo Eres diferente a ella, más... Sensual, me inspiras pasión... Y nada más, lo sé por fin. Todos mis intentos fallidos por demostrar que soy suficiente han sido en vano, y sinceramente estoy cansada. Estoy agotada de vivir compensando a todo mundo pero seguir sintiendo pena de mí misma, peor aún, tener que actuar como si nada.

Hoy llegando a casa hice mis maletas con lo más importante que tenía, el resto lo recogería en los siguientes días o puedo enviar por ellas. Como en piloto automático y sin percepción real del tiempo, ya estoy por irme de la casa pero soy detenida por la suave mano de alguien en mi hombro.

- ¿A dónde vas? - Pregunta tartamudo

- Me voy Jeno. -

- ¿De vacaciones? No me contaste nada...-

- No, me voy de aquí. No puedo seguir viviendo aquí, no con él. - Me da la vuelta para atrincherarse en la puerta, saca su teléfono temblando y marca un número.

- Tienes que venir, hay problemas. - Se escucha la respuesta pero no distingo lo que dice - Es sobre T/N, sí, ahora. -

- ¿Qué estás haciendo? ¿Lo llamaste? Dime, ¿Llamaste para pedir su ayuda? ¿A él que es la razón por la que me estoy llendo? -

- No puedes irte T/N, no puedes dejarnos, somos un equipo. -

- ¿Quieres verme hacerlo? - Lanzo mi maleta pesada a sus piernas para que se quite o trate de esquivarlas y poder salir, pero sus musculosas piernas no se mueven un centímetro, reciben el golpe como si nada. Ahora soy yo quien trata de lanzarse a el para tratar de correr, dándole la oportunidad ideal de atraparme en la cárcel de su cuerpo. - ¡¿Qué haces?! ¡Sueltame animal! -

- Deja de arañarme T/N, por favor, hablemos los tres y tratemos de encontrar una solución. -

- No hay nada que solucionar Jeno, si quiero largarme de aquí lo haré. No me importa si lo aprueban o no. - Ya estamos colocados en el sofá, con sus piernas y brazos bloquea cualquier movimiento que pueda hacer, mi cara hundida en su hombro.

Tras un rato de lucha, me rindo ante su incomparable fuerza. La frustración de nunca conseguir lo que quiero a pesar de mi esfuerzo me hace estallar en llanto (moco y todo), ya no es necesario que me sostenga para no escapar, ahora quiero que me sostenga como consuelo. Lo hace, acaricia mi hombro delicadamente con su mano derecha y con la otra limpia sus propias lágrimas, se le han contagiado las ganas de llorar. Unos pasos ruidosos por el pasillo nos avisan de la llegada del tercer individuo.

- ¿Cuál es el problema? - Nos encuentra de esa manera al azotar la puerta en su brusca entrada. Por sus expresiones puedo ver que toda clase de pensamientos pasan por su cabeza. Con lentitud me levanto de mi posición anterior, no sin antes palmear el hombro de mi amigo como gesto de agradecimiento.

- Me voy. Me mudo de este lugar porque ya no puedo vivir aquí un día más. - Digo aún con las lágrimas corriendo por mis mejillas.

- No no no... - Es notable su shock a pesar de que está casi murmurando, más como para sí mismo.

- Sí, y como le decía a él, no espero su permiso para hacerlo, de ninguno de los dos. -

- ¿Esperas que nos crucemos de brazos a ver cómo nos dejás? Así como si no nos importaras en lo absoluto. -

- Espero que respeten una desición, una que ya tomé. -

- Por lo de esta mañana, pensé que... Bueno, creí que todo volvería a la normalidad. Me abrazaste T/N. -

- Cómo siempre, entendiste lo que quisiste. Yo fui bastante clara al decirte que lo nuestro no era correcto y que no estaba cómoda con seguir siendo tu... Zorra. No seré objeto de tu diversión. Ya no más. Durante mucho tiempo he querido hacer algo al respecto y por fin tengo el valor, no como tú, que no tienes el valor para un compromiso real con nadie más que contigo mismo y tu satisfacción. - El otro habiéndose convertido en un espectador en el sofá que no para de sollozar.

- No eres una zorra, por dios. Qué necesidad de intensificar la conversación. -

- No desvíes el tema. -

- Ok ok, no te enojes cariño, ¿Mi satisfacción? ¿De qué hablas? -

- No me llames así, y deja de actuar como si Jeno fuera un idiota que no sabe la razón REAL del porque me voy, como si no comprendiera lo que está ocurriendo. - Se queda mucho, su cara de angustia muta a una de creciente molestia.

- Con que la razón real eh... ¿Quién te metió esa idea a la cabeza? Nunca antes eso fue un impedimento para nosotros, por qué casualmente ahora me pides algo que aclaramos al inicio. - Voltea hacia mis espaldas para acusar con la mirada a nuestro amigo.

- ¿Qué no lo ves? Esta peor que tú ante la situación, no implantó ideas ni habló mal de ti si es lo que insinúas. -

- No estoy insinuando nada, solo digo que parece sospechoso que lo involucras demasiado en un asunto que es de los dos, y sólo de los dos. -

- Suenas como un idiota, hablando mal de la persona que te llamó para pedir tu ayuda al enterarse que me iba, en vez de agradecerle lo estás acusando de culpas que no tiene. Y si lo involucro es porque tú lo hiciste primero. - Cierta lucidez llega a su mente tras decir esto.

- Ok, tienes razón, fui demasiado duro con él. Es que yo... - Se queda sin palabras - Ahora tú estás siendo dura conmigo, sugiriendo que soy de lo peor. -

- Oh no, no digo que seas de lo peor; pero en efecto eres un maldito mujeriego, un infiel, inmaduro,  convenenciero y me tratas como a una propiedad. - flaqueo, mis lágrimas salen de nuevo sin control - Y se que no cambiarás, sin importar cuanto me lo prometas, y yo no podré decirte que no, sin importar cuanto trate. Me voy porque esto a la larga nos hará más daño. -

- No quiero que te vayas. -

- Pero yo no quiero quedarme. - Y aprovechando que he quebrantado su voluntad, recojo mis regadas maletas. Jaehyun no dice una sola palabra después ni separa sus ojos del suelo, creo que es mejor.

- Yo no he hablado. -

- Nono, por favor no hagas esto. -

- T/N, por favor no me dejes, no puedes dejarme solo. -

- No te dejaré solo, seguiremos siendo buenos amigos, iré a tus competencias siempre y todo lo que sea posible para seguir siendo buenos amigos. -

- Pero ya no desayunarás conmigo, no estarás para ver películas, no jugaremos a las luchas, ni beberemos vino barato en el balcón. -

- Tal vez no, pero de esa forma los momentos serán más especiales aún. -

- No quiero que sean especiales entonces, quiero que sean a diario. -

- Mi querido y necio Nono. Algunas cosas cambiarán pero nosotros permaneceremos iguales. - acorto nuestra distancia para apretar sus mejillas - Te seguiré queriendo como siempre lo he hecho, no tienes nada de qué preocuparte... -

- Te amo. - me calla antes de terminar, ahí Jaehyun abandona la sala y se dirige a su habitación - Te amo T/N, no me importa lo que hayas hecho o no con Jaehyun, no me importa en lo más mínimo, te amo y estoy seguro que eres el amor de mi vida, jamás había conocido a una chica como tú, así que por favor no te vayas. No me dejes. -

- ¿Por qué esperaste tanto para decirlo? -

- No tenía el valor. - Besa las palmas de mi mano que están cerca de sus labios

- ¿Y solo lo tuviste cuando parecía todo perdido?-

- Sé que eso no me hace mejor que Jaehyun, pero la manera en que yo te amaré será la que mereces, no tendrás que volver a sentirte usada o ocultar algo tan natural como un beso. -

- Aunque aprecio que te abras a mí, tu confesión no cambia mi desición. Si me quedara en este lugar, la poca dignidad que tengo se iría al demonio. -

- Entonces vámonos los dos. Mudemonos tan lejos como gustes, ganaré todas mis competencias para tener los premios económicos y pagar la renta. -

- Eres un verdadero obstinado. -

- No quiero perderte, no ahora que por fin te declaré mis sentimientos. -

- ¿Y mis sentimientos? - A través de sus ojos puedo ver cómo una fracción de su corazón se rompe. La realidad golpea tan duro que su respiración se corta brevemente y la resignación se asienta.

- Supongo que tienes con quién pasar la noche. -

- No tienes que preocuparte por eso. -

- Siempre me preocuparé por ti, somos los mejores amigos después de todo. -

- Claro que sí. -

- Bueno, nos vemos mañana ¿Tienes práctica verdad? -

- Sí. - responde casi inaudible

- Ahí estaré, puntual como siempre. Descansa Nono. -

Cierro la puerta, dando por oficial mi partida. Sus sollozos se pueden escuchar tras de ésta y hasta unos metros de distancia, llora como un niño que ha perdido su posesión más preciada, con pesar incontrolable. Aún así no desatiende mi desición de irme, con todo el dolor de su corazón planta sus pies en el alfombrado para no salir corriendo en mi búsqueda.

Si bien su declaración de amor cambia mi panorama, mi determinación es infranqueable. Él sabe cómo soy, no hay caso en luchar una batalla perdida.

En la entrada del edificio se encuentra estacionado el auto de mi amiga Alexa, esperando para irnos.

- Hiciste lo correcto. -

- Lo sé. -

Arranca en dirección a mi nueva residencia temporalmente, donde mi nueva lucha comienza. Sin un Jaehyun o Jeno en mi vida.

#jeno #lee jeno #jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #fanfiction #facfict #kpop smut #kpop fluff #friends to lovers #yuta #yuta nakamoto #nct u #angst #fluff #nct scenarios #español #novela #slow burn #nct angst #nct jaehyun #nct jeno #love triangle #friends to strangers

[fentyjjk]

DISCLAIMER: All rights to me, all works written by me, all ideas credited to me.

Do not steal, copy, and or translate any of my works.

© fentyjjk

➸ SONGATHON M.LIST

synposis compilation of varying lengths of drabbles and or series based off of songs ive heard

coming soon...

coming soon...

coming soon..

ꕤ MINI SERIES:

LOVE ME

genre angst, cheating

synopsis an affair with your husband's best friend leads to a messy confession on your wedding day. it all goes downhill from there.

chapters 1 | 2 | on hold

coming soon...

coming soon...

ꕤ MINI SERIES:

LOVE, LOST

genre angst, heartbreak, cheating

synopsis your relationship with jungkook had been fizzling out for a while. for the last year of your five year relationship, you two had all but floated around each other, but after you catch him cheating that's the final straw.

chapters 1 | 2 to be continued...

ꕥ SERIES:

DARK ANGEL

genre vampire au, supernatural, unrealistic historical fic, romance

synopsis after dying and coming back to life as a vampire with an unrelenting thirst for blood, jungkook is on the run. it doesn't matter where he goes or how he just needs to keep running. away from the hunters, away from the people he killed the first night he came back, he just has to keep moving...but then he finds you.

chapters: dark angel navigation | on hold

#bts jungkook ff #bts jungkook fanfiction #jungkook ff #jeon jungkook ff #bts taehyung ff #bts taehyung facfiction #taehyung ff #kim taehyung ff #bts jimin ff #bts jimin fanfiction #jimin ff #park jimin ff #bts namjoon ff #bts rm ff #bts namjoon fanfiction #namjoon ff #kim namjoon ff #bts hoseok ff #bts jhope ff #jhope ff #bts hoseok fanfiction #hoseok ff #jung hoseok ff #bts agust d ff #bts suga ff #bts yoongi ff #bts suga fanfiction #bts agust d fanfiction #bts yoogni fanfiction #yoongi ff

[doublyamusing]

PSA: if your going to write something long about something and want people to read it make it coherent and ADD PROPER PUNCTUATION AND PARAGRAPH BREAKS

#i dont care about spelling or minor grammatical errors #but please just add a paragraph space my goodness #this is also targeted at facfiction writers #fanfiction #comment sections

[illicitlimerence-writes]

guiding lights | m. verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x singer!actress!reader word count: 1.7k words request: nope, at least i don’t think so. prompt: putting up decorations ⎯ “wow… that’s… a lot of lights.” from this prompt list. not my prompts, credits to the person who created it! warnings: allusions to sex, language, idk what else a/n: am i ready to jump back into a month-long challenge? nope, but i will try my best. i have tomorrow’s fic ready but i’m not too sure i’ll be able to complete this lol. friendly reminder that my requests are closed!

my masterlist / this is part of the 'superheroes and flat caps' series. find all the parts here! / 25 days of christmas masterlist

she sighed, dropping her luggage once she opened the door, leaning her weight against it to close it as she entered her home. the house was cold, and dark. not even the light in the kitchen was on, which dropped her spirits a little.

it was officially the start of her winter holidays, max’s had started a week prior, -technically two, but he’d had other events that first week - which meant he’d been all alone in their house for a week, bored out of his mind with no company or distractions other than his simulator, netflix, or their daily videochats. 

during those last ones, she’d insisted he visited some of his friends, or invited them into their new home, but he refused, said she was supposed to be there to welcome guests, too. it was their first official home, and max couldn’t take all the credit for scoring such a great place like that. their new house was big, spacious, without being too much. she’d drawn a line when the real estate agent showed them a house with not one but two jaccuzis, in the backyard, besides a really large pool. she could see max was really, actually contemplating it, but she shook her head and muttered ‘uh-uh,’ her eyes open in a way that said ‘don’t even think about it.’ 

so, max was really taking the word ‘vacation’ literally. doing absolutely nothing but sit on the couch and watch movies - a few big releases he’d missed during the year-, and yell at the tv whenever a character did something stupid. he was living his best life.

meanwhile, she was working hard, finishing her new album, planning release dates and other marketing strategies ahead of the new year. and once everything was planned, she was more than eager, ready, to go home.

although this welcome wasn’t what she’d had in mind when she thought of finally coming home to max. it seemed that he’d finally listened to her advice and had gone out of the house, for once. she couldn’t be upset about it, max wasn’t someone that took solitude easily, he enjoyed being around people, although he didn’t express it verbally most of the time. 

she turned on the lights as she made her way in, grabbing her suitcase and walking to the washing room, making a mental note to wash all of her stuff the following day. after that, she walked further into the house, and couldn’t help but smile, a soft, content sigh leaving her lips as she took in the fact that this was theirs. not just hers, or max’s, but theirs. they’d jumped into this adventure together, and it still didn’t feel real.

a thud coming from upstairs caught her attention, she frowned as she heard another sound, like something had fallen. she rushed to a closet, where max kept his golf clubs, and grabbed one, soundlessly walking up the steps. there was an open door, the third room to the right, what they’d decided would be max’s space. she got closer, trying to peek her head in, and just at that second, max came out of the room.

she yelled, both in shock and surprise, which caused max to do the same.

“why are you holding a club?!” he yelled/asked, making her drop the object to the floor.

“i thought you were a burglar!” she ran her hand through her hair, feeling her heartbeat quickening, “i saw all the lights out and thought you were out somewhere,” she closed her eyes and placed a hand on her chest, catching her breath.

“jesus,” max’s chest was heaving, and they both stood there for a few seconds, recovering from the scare, and once that had passed, she jumped straight in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, he turned, placing her back against the wall for support, and looked her in the eyes, saying the words he’d been waiting for since he got to monaco, “welcome home.”

she smiled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close, she buried her face in his neck, breathing in his scent and relaxing under his touch. one of his hands found its way to her hair, he tilted his head and placed a kiss to her neck as he curled his fingers around her hair.

“did you finish the song?” he asked, there was one song left in the album that was not ready yet. and she was okay with it not being in the album, she wanted to perfect it, no matter how long it took. ‘you are in love’ was being a pain in her ass, but this song felt too special, too important for them, for their relationship. 

“not yet.” she sighed, “i guess you’ll just have to do more romantic things for me.” she chuckled.

max stilled for a second, before laughing as well, kissing her again as he led her to their room.

-

after catching up (and making up for lost time), a forgotten thought ran through her mind.

“hey, what were you doing in your office earlier? when i came in?” she asked, looking up at him, her chin resting on his chest, fingers playing with the gold chain hanging from his neck.

“oh!, i was getting something i needed,”

“for what?”

“something.”

“and what’s that something?” she raised an eyebrow.

“a surprise, for you. but it’s not ready yet. actually, i should go finish,” he said, gently cupping her chin and lifting her from his chest, he got up from the bed, putting on clean boxers and sweatpants, and throwing a hoodie on. 

“maxwell?” she called for him, max chuckled, it always humored him how she’d find different names to call him when she was annoyed at him, “you’re not seriously leaving me like this, right now,” she held the sheets up to her chest, watching him look back with a smile on his face. 

“i’ll be right back.” he declared.

“max!”

“you’ll like it, i swear!”

“payback’s a bitch!” she reminded him, falling down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“i’ll be waiting for it, then. i’ll come back for you when it’s ready!” she heard his voice getting lower as he walked down the stairs, getting farther away from her.

-

she took her time alone to take a warm shower, doing her extended skincare routine, noticing how some of her products were less ful than what she remembered from the last time she was home. she chuckled at the thought of max experimenting with her products, applying the creams and serums to his face as his thought process told him to. 

“it’s done!” max said as he walked in the room, his head whipping around as he looked for her. “baby?” he asked.

“bathroom!” she said, and turned her head to look at him as she finished washing her hands. 

“you stole my hoodie,” he noticed.

“what happened to ‘what’s mine is yours’?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“there’s not a ring on my finger yet,” he said, making her laugh.

“there’s not one on mine either. better treat me right if you want me to stay,” she teased, “you’ve got points off for leaving me like that.”

“oh, but this will make up for it, i swear.”

“hm, that’s up to me to decide.”

he grabbed her hand, bringing her close to him, his free hand found her cheek, pressing his lips against hers, she responded softly, sliding an arm on his waist, curling her fingers on the fabric of his sweatshirt. her other hand reached inside his hoodie, grabbing the chain and seeing the small charm again, a smile on her face as she remembered the moment she saw it for the first time.

“no persuading me,” she tapped his nose, “now show me.”

he grabbed her hands, leading her out of the room and down the stairs, meanwhile he spoke.

“so i know this is our second christmas together, but it’s our first in our new home, and we have to make it special, right?” he asked, waiting for her to agree.

“right,” she said warily, not knowing where this was headed.

“we’ll need to get a lot more decorations compared to what we had last year, we have so much space here. anything you want. and i know you looove sparkles, so-” he said, leaving her through the sliding door, out into the garden, where everything she could see was warm glowing light.

little lights everywhere. and i mean, everywhere. 

around the trunks of the trees, all along the edge of the pool, the chairs and the roof of the house. even a few christmas trees made completely out of lights.

“wow, that’s… a lot of lights,” she whispered, overwhelmed by the amount of lights everywhere she looked.

“yeah, they’re to guide you home,” he said cheesily, a sly smile on his face. it was meant to be a joke, but she grinned at him, loving how open max had become to express his love for her, to her.

she hugged him, wrapping her arms around him so tight that max huffed out a little, before placing his arms around her shoulders and placing a kiss to the top of her head. 

“you know… when i said about doing more romantic things… i didn’t mean like right now. not that i’m complaining but-”

“i know. i just… i don’t know, i feel like since this is out first christmas and other holidays here, i think we should go all out.”

“that’s alright, we can do that.” she nodded, turning her head around, her eye catching a different kind of glimmer. the chain hanging from his neck, the charm with her initial on it, seemed to sparkle, reflecting the lights all around them as he moved. he grabbed her hands, taking a step back and twirled her around. she chuckled, not expecting the movement. she came back to him, placing a hand on his chest as he pulled her close. he started swaying, his free hand meeting her waist. and they slow danced under the moonlight, and all the christmas lights. “thank you. i love it.”

“you’re very welcome,” he smiled, kissing the side of her temple. 

“you’re paying the electric bill this month and next, though,” she made it clear.

“yup, i figured.” he laughed.

“we can start decorating tomorrow,” she declared.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fan fiction #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen angst #max verstappen drabble #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen facfiction #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x singer!reader #max verstappen x singer!actress!reader #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen #f1 fiction #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 #f1blr #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 drivers one shot #f1 drivers x reader

[ode-to-fanfics]

Welcome to »Ode to Fanfics«

This will be a love letter for fanfiction. I don’t think people talk about enough, how incredible facfiction can be. I almost don’t want to call it fanfiction, because of how often it’s a subject to make fun of »fanatic fans« and how »crazy« people can be to write stories about other stories. And that is just unbelievably narrow minded. Fanfiction has been written since the 19th century (which I just found out during my five minute Wikipedia search) and that was only the »official« fanfiction by »real« authors. But it is so much more than that. Just think about it. People get so inspired to come up with more creative content and write stories that are more often or not longer than real books. Then they publish them and let other people enjoy their stunning work. FOR FREE!? And they don’t get anything other than maybe some comments and likes!? So in the name of all the fanfiction readers. THANK YOU!!

Now I want to give something back to the amazing people that write fanfiction. I’m not a writer myself. I can’t count how many times I was told during school and university that I just wasn’t good (so please be kind to me for writing this). I wasn’t even a big reader. Probably I could count on one hand how many books I’ve read in my teenage years. So for me, it is incredible to think how talented people are to make writing so life-like and make me forget I’m reading all together. Some stories made me cry, some made me laugh and others just made me feel the bone-deep love I have for the characters. And how amazing is it to make people feel so strongly with just words on a page (or in most cases on a small screen)? This is Art. 

So, how am I going to pay such a tribute. Well, I going to either read stories that I haven’t read before or stories that I’ve read so many times already that I lost count. Then I’m going to try writing an Ode for each story and talk about what I enjoyed, what I laughed about, what I cried about or about whatever feeling that occured while reading. 

Probably no one or just very few people will actually read this and who am I to voice my opinions about other peoples work. But maybe, just maybe some will read it and enjoy the stories as much as I do and who knows, maybe some authors will enjoy someone writing about their story. But either way, I try to get over my fear of writing and highlight how amazing other people are at it. 

So welcome and enjoy!

xx

#ode to fanfics #fandom #fanfiction #fanfics #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #johnlock #shipping