#At the same time you didn't have rest at all after graduating because of the outside pressure

[tapakah0]

[secretsofafangirll]

video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment. 

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

//

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

[rottiens]

⊹ synopsis. . as your beloved husband, it is his duty to indulge you in your fantasies. even in the unspoken ones. ⊹ tags. . (18+), husband nanami x reader with female anatomy (no pronouns used), petnames (honey), suggestive, dirty talk, finger sucking, reader has a hands kink. divider creds: cafekitsune.

Discreetly you glance back, your eyebrows raise unconsciously and your heart does that unusual throbbing that you hadn't experienced in a long time in Kento's presence, at least since you got married. You didn't want to admit that married life had tempered a bit the passion of the early years, when your hands couldn't be still standing next to each other, when you struggled to control your restless gaze and burning cheeks because you had to share the same team for a mission with your boyfriend. On the other hand, Kento was always more reserved, more serious. When asked if you were dating, he would simply say it was no one's business, although his cheekbones would change color every time someone mentioned your name.

After you left school behind, graduated as sorcerers and began accepting special grade missions, Kento and you talked about your relationship and how you saw yourselves together for much longer, starting a family, growing plants together and perhaps enjoying a quieter hobby that didn't involve exorcising curses. The two of you considered joining a book club or visiting the countryside on weekends.

Then one day he dropped one of his knees to the ground and handed you the beautiful ring that now decorates your finger, physically sealing a union to which you were both long committed: it has been exactly four years and three months since the wedding that only close people and family members attended. Since then you have kept a low profile, you had accepted married life and the everyday life it brought with it, although that didn't mean you had stopped loving Kento like the first day —on the contrary—, it meant seeing him every day and extinguishing a little of that adolescent spark that once burned you from inside every time you spent more than three days away from each other.

However, since a couple of weeks that spark had come back to life hungrier than ever and it's not until now that you find out why.

The sound of the paper sliding under your husband's fingers is soothing to you. Kento does this almost every night: reading a book, sometimes even reading aloud to you until you fall asleep. His glasses rest on the tip of his nose, his bare chest rises and falls like the waves of the sea, and he's wearing gray pajama pants. You've watched this scene so many nights that you've learned to recognize the meaning when his brow furrows or when he pouts as he immerses himself in rich reading. At this moment, as he sometimes does, he gently caresses your calf, sending shivers along your limb, generating fluttering heartbeats in your chest and between your legs.

Kento turns another page and calls out to you, "Honey," without looking away from the book. The timbre of his voice draws you to him. "Are you okay?" he asks again, now watching you with wrinkles in his forehead that denote concern.

"I'm fine," you assure him without maintaining eye contact. "Can't I enjoy the sight of my handsome husband while he reads?" The word "husband" draws a smile on his face, causing the corners of his mouth to turn up. You only need to utter that one word to have him completely captivated.

"I'm almost done," he announces as he dives back into reading.

You gulp. It's his hands, you suddenly recognize. The realization hits you in the forehead. There's something in the way his thumb runs across the page, something in how his open hand holds the back of the book, in his thumb tapping the cover and then bringing it to his mouth to play with his lip. It all gets your bloodstream pumping adrenaline.

The thought makes you run away from the scene like a teenager in love. At first you were in total denial, hands? How could you tell him that his hands turned you on, wouldn't that be weird? However as the days go by you find it harder to control it and make it go unnoticed, you find yourself looking at them when Kento takes your hand to go outside, when he holds the steering wheel of the car, you find yourself squeezing your legs when his fingers tighten around the watering can to water the plants and the worst of all, when he cooks.

Now, as he finishes decorating the cake, he was wearing those black jeans that were your favorite, along with a brown shirt that had the first two buttons open, leaving part of his collar exposed. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to his elbows. You couldn't help but stare at him in fascination, feeling the saliva pool in your mouth.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" The question sneaks in among your swarm of thoughts, and you stop yourself from watching him work to stare into his eyes that don't look at you.

"I know," you reply simply, which elicits a purr of approval from him.

"Want to try?" He abruptly changes the subject, but still, encouraged, you nod your head. With his index finger and thumb, Kento pinches a small piece of cake and brings it up to your mouth. You stretch your neck to catch his fingers, and the taste of vanilla and cream glides over your tongue. Even after swallowing Kento doesn't withdraw his fingers, and you don't move either.

The playful thumb, still with traces of cream, reaches just beyond your lips to meet your tongue. Your eyes widen as red alarms go off in your mind and your thighs press against each other.

"My hands, hm?" it catches you in mid-act, unable to move, your body turning to stone in the middle of the kitchen. "What's so special about them?"

"I-I…"

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Kento purrs as he pushes a little further, the pad of his thumb massaging your tongue in small circles spreading the sweet taste on it. "Suck it, I know this is what's been filling your mind." And you do, closing your eyes at his command, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as Kento begins to fuck your mouth. "I can't believe you didn't comment to me about this little kink of yours, it offends me even." You groan, unable to look him in the eye, succumbed to the feeling of fighting for your dignity or surrendering to pleasure. "Maybe you need me massaging your thighs, maybe you want them around your neck… playing with your tits or maybe I need to make you watch my thick fingers go in and out of you, my thick veins standing out in my hands as I pump my fingers inside that wet pussy." You whimper, Kento laughs. "I guess I'll have to cancel my dinner tonight, I need to get each and every thought you've had with my hands out of that pretty head of yours while you comment on what it is you like so much about them."

[strangersteddierthings]

Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

-

Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.

Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.

He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.

It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.

He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.

"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.

"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."

"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.

"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.

Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."

Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."

"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."

A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"

"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."

Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."

"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."

"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."

Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"

"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.

Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."

Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.

"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."

"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"

The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."

"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."

The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."

Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."

"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."

"He thinks his own parents are bad?"

Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."

"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."

Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."

"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."

There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.

Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.

"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.

Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."

"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.

"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.

Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.

Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.

True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.

"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.

"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.

"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."

"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."

"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.

"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."

"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"

"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."

Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."

Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.

"You've every right to be."

Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"

"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."

"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"

Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.

"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.

To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.

Now he's got two apologies to make.

I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88

[delusional-day-dreamer]

paige x olympian gymnast hcs!

‣ paige bueckers x olympic gymnast reader!

‣‣ synopsis: gymnastics has always been your entire life, and your dedication truly paid off when you made team usa for the 2016 rio olympics, but what happens after your injury while in the running for the 2020 tokyo olympics? #uneditedfornow

‣‣‣ a/n: just a few headcannons i have in mind for this story, if i were to make this a full blown series it MIGHT be a wattpad story with an oc or just a full tumblr series because of how long it would be... 👀

your life leading up to and including the 2016 rio olympics:

you've been doing gymnastics since you were three years old

at the age of thirteen your parents switched you to online school so you could train full time, but during this process it set you back a year, making your graduation year 2020 (same as Paige)

at the age of just fifteen you qualified for the rio olympics (meaning you were born in 2001)

your roommate that year was simone biles, and you competed at the olympics, taking home two golds (all around team and beam) and one silver (beam).

following the olympics, you became very popular for your skill at such a young age, leading you to signing many brand deals, sponsorships, photoshoots, etc.

it just so happens that your popularity reaches a certain basketball player, miss paige bueckers. in her slam interview in 2019, when asked about an athlete she admires outside of basketball, she says you. you have no idea who she is, but dm her regardless thanking her for her kind words. this is the only interaction you two have until uconn.

you continued online school for the rest of highschool, and throughout the next three years you received thirty recruitment offers out of the sixty-two schools that had a women's college gymnastics team.

your dream school had always been the University of Connecticut, but their gymnastics team didn't impress you throughout the recruitment process.

your graduation year is 2020, which happens to be the same year you got injured, right before choosing a college to commit to.

injury-related; 2020-2021:

in february of 2020, you got into a car crash while driving home from a late night practice.

you tore your left acl, dislocated your right shoulder, fractured your left collarbone, had a concussion, and suffered a left femoral fracture (ouchies i know)

thankfully you were mostly okay, but the accident completely put you out of the running for the 2020 (now moved to 2021 due to the pandemic) olympics, and doctors told you it would take at least two years to fully rehabilitate before you could even beginning training for competitions again.

your left leg had quite a few complications with the acl tear and the femoral fracture, and you had four surgeries in total on the leg.

during this time, you decided that since you couldn't compete in gymnastics, you might as well commit to the college of your student-life dreams, the university of connecticut.

UConn Era!!:

you commit to uconn for your undergrad in the sports management program, since you couldn't compete, you still wanted to remain in the athletic world.

your freshman year classes (2020-2021) was fully online due to your injuries and the pandemic, but it just so happens that you're placed as an intern with the women's basketball team for your sports management program.

you meet the team before the school year starts, and it just so happens that paige bueckers has remained a huge fan of yours.

the only reason the team recognized you immediately before you were even introduced is because of how much she has fangirled over you

you get your own apartment at uconn due to the program and your status (okay olympic privilege), which meant the team loved to hang out at your giant, well-furnished place.

you become extremely close with the team, and your first two years of rehabilitation seem to go well. it also happens that in your sophomore year, your best friend paige also fractures her meniscus, so the two of you are the resident cripples of the team!

paige has always had a huge fangirl crush on you, but over the years of you being friends, it seems those feelings develop into a little bit more...

one night while you were having a sleepover with her during her acl recovery she confesses, and the two of you start dating on the very down low

during your junior year is also when you are fully cleared to start re-training and you start getting back into gymnastics with a new coach (idk who yet!)

while balancing school and your duties with the wbb team, you start to train only four days a week, slowly getting back old skills on all four events.

you start competing in the 2023-24 season (i believe that’s how it’s measured?) and qualify for the 2024 olympics at the 2024 Xfinity U.S Gymnastics Championship

it’s safe to say your girlfriend and the entire wbb team were your biggest supporters apart from your family

Actual Olympics:

i can see you being roommates with Hezley Rivera, since she reminds you so much of yourself and you’re able to form a connection because of that.

Paige is unfortunately not able to make it to the first half of the Olympics, but she is your biggest supporter from home, constantly posting and hyping you up.

While competing, you definitely wear jewelry that she gifted you for good luck, and your hair has two braids going up into your bun, just to keep a piece of your girl close to you. Maybe even a purple ribbon braided into your hair at some point?

You also definitely took half of her closet of hoodies with you so that you could wear them and have her scent with you at night

the entire uconn wbb team, both current and players from your earlier college years, show support for you on social media, but paige’s is a little.. different than theirs

while all the girls post you on their stories or tweeting about you as, so proud of our husky 💙🐺, that’s my our uconn girly!!, etc. Paige’s are a little more special, hinting at your relationship, ex: so proud of my girl 🫶🫶

there were rumors about you and paige circulating since your freshman year, but you never bothered addressing them, and this only fueled them further.

You definitely text Paige as much as possible during meal times, facetiming at night, sending selfies all the time, etc.

The other girls definitely make fun of you if they overhear you on the phone with her, mocking you since you call each other baby as a term of endearment. They also make a tiktok cut together of a bunch of clips, basically every single time you were texting or atp with paige. the tiktok has over 50 clips!

“can you pass me that y/n?” suni asked you

“yea sure, here” you passed her the makeup brush

“thanks, baby,” she teased, making you blush

After the olympic athlete who ran straight to his girlfriend after breaking the Olympic record, I can definitely see Paige flying out to surprise you for a week or so in Paris.

Her flying out to come visit is when you guys actually hard launch, posting pictures of you at dinner with the captions, “my girl is finally here” or “yk i had to come cheer my girl on in person”

a/n: this is #uneditedfornow but that’s all i have for now yall! idk when i’m gonna make this a series but i have so many ideas for it i just might have to, but i also have two other unfinished series rn so… 😓😓

[moviecritc]

Hi I don't know if you write about Charles and Alexandra, but what about something based in obsessed by olivia rodrigo, in a more sapphic way, maybe reader and alex can make out or something. also if you can mix it with smau would be super cool 💕

obsessed ⋆ charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader (various fc) x alexandra saint mleux

warnings: some bad words for the three of them (it was for the sake of the plot, nothing to harsh)

a/n: i made her a singer to add more drama. also i loooved this idea, i've been wanting to write something like this so much, thanks for requesting it <33

Remember that requests are open 💕💕

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

yourusername just posted!

liked by sabrinacarpenter, charlesleclerc and 145,824 others

yourusername some visuals from the Paris music video 💜🩷💙

view all comments

user1 i felt so seen in the first verses of the song, i'm also a sucker for gossip

charlesleclerc 💜😍

user2 so dry

user3 what is someone so cool like yn dating someone so boring and simple like charles

user4 graduated in cuntology with a master in slayfication and cum laude in mother is mothering 101

sabrinacarpenter princess of glittery gel pen songs 💜💜💜💜

user5 IM SO IN LOVE

user5 that i might stop breathing

user6 yn using paris as a joke bc charles is monegasque is beyond cuteness

user7 GOALS.

user8 imagine having YN LN as a gf and NOT POSTING HER leclerc you better watch out

user9 it's giving taylor and joe

user10 THE HEARTSSS never beating bi allegations

When Y/N saw the Instagram notification, curiosity got the better of her. Just curiosity. She and Charles had been dating for almost six months, and this was the girl he had been with before her, so she simply wanted to know who she was. She scrolled through her posts, seeing the life she had after breaking up with Charles; she worked at a museum in Monaco and at the same time was an influencer.

Looking at her photos, she realized she was very beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Her hair was healthy, long, and a gorgeous dark brown, her body was perfect, the clothes fit her great, and she had a very sweet voice. She wondered why Charles had ended things with Alexandra.

Then, as she scrolled through her highlighted stories, she accidentally liked one. Y/N immediately threw her phone down. "Shit," she said, grimacing. "Shit, shit, shit." She picked up the phone again and saw the red heart on a photo of Alexandra in a bikini with a beautiful sunset in the background. Y/N stared at the photo for a moment and then removed the like.

She ran her hands over her face, feeling like an idiot. Alexandra would still see the notification, then she would see that Y/N had removed the like, and she would probably think she was weird. Or worse, she could message Charles, asking what his girlfriend was doing stalking her profile.

Charles was at the Grand Prix of Canada at that moment, she was in Monaco. The time difference was huge, and she wasn't going to bother him with this nonsense. So she decided to message Alexandra directly.

Y/N couldn't stop thinking about Alexandra for the rest of the day. She found herself a couple of times staring at her pictures, she knew that Alex lived in Monaco and that they could bump into each other anytime. That idea felt amazing. She seemed like a gorgeous person, and the little chit chat they had felt really comfortable, even when Alex was her boyfriend's ex.

Y/N didn't mention any of this to Charles, he probably just make a big deal of it and they would have a discussion. And she was too lazy to think about arguments.

So she wrote a song. For the nexts days she focused on the lyrics and when Y/N handed the papers to her producer, they loved it. As soon as they could they recorded the song.

When Charles came back from the race, he found Y/N staying after midnight in the studio so she could finish the song. And he didn't complaint, because he really thought the song was about him.

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yourusername 'obsessed' is now yours, with the mv starring @alexademie 🍒🍸💎

the comments have been restricted

alexademie so proud of this project 🤧💙

sabrinacarpenter MISS? i was not expecting this at all and it was so so good 😩😩

gracieabrams QUEEN. in capitals and screaming.

chappelroan so cunty, so hot, so sapphic.

laufey ok now IM obsessed with YOU.

She didn't even think it was a bad idea until she saw her. They had decided to meet at a private club in Monaco; Alex wore a black satin dress that fit her extremely well, with her hair loose as she had seen so often in photos and a sparkling gaze. Y/N felt stupid for only wearing a white top and jeans.

"You showed up," Alexandra said with a smirk.

"You thought I wouldn't come?" she asked, matching her expression. Alexandra lowered her head, saying nothing and tucking her hair behind her ear. Y/N went to the bar and ordered a round of shots, although she didn't need to get drunk to do what she was about to do.

She drank one and then watched as Alexandra imitated her.

"Where did you leave Charles?" Alexandra asked, pulling her to a sofa area. The club wasn't very crowded, but more people would start arriving soon.

Y/N clicked her tongue. "Charles is the last person I want to talk about right now, honestly."

"You're right," Alexandra agreed as she nodded. "Let's talk about the song, then."

Y/N looked at her with a silly smile, trying very hard not to feel embarrassed. Although she knew she had nothing to be embarrassed about, she could see from Alex's expression that she had liked the song.

"What did you think?" she asked, sipping her cocktail.

"I loved it. I never thought someone would write songs about me," she lowered her gaze a little and then Y/N noticed how she had the tip of her heel circling around her foot.

"Did Charles ever dedicate any of his piano songs to you?" Y/N asked, furrowing her brow a little.

"Charles never even dedicated time to me," Alexandra looked away a bit.

Y/N nodded, perfectly understanding what Alexandra was talking about. Charles was too focused on his career, and unless you asked him, he could completely ignore you for weeks or change plans you had been planning for months because he had to train. That was the kind of person Charles was. At first, it had been a dream, accompanying him to his races and spending time with him, but when you scheduled a tour to be able to attend most of his races and he didn't show up at almost any of your concerts… It affected you.

"Men," Y/N said simply, rolling her eyes.

"Exactly! They're unbelievable, in the worst sense of the word," Alex spoke, slightly laughing.

They fell silent for a few moments, not breaking eye contact. The music had been turned up, and they were bathed in purple and green lights, moving around the room. Alexandra almost glowed for Y/N's eyes; under that lighting, everything seemed unreal. She leaned toward her, but didn't make the final move, wanting Alex to take that step.

Alexandra smiled mischievously and pressed their lips together. It was a calm kiss, not too long but their lips touched enough to explore them calmly, and for Y/N to remember the slight scent of red licorice from Alex's cologne.

As they separated, Alexandra got as close as possible to Y/N, resting her head on her shoulder. "Are you drunk?" Y/N questioned, fearing for a moment that it was all an act of alcohol.

"No," she denied vehemently.

Y/N didn't think much more about it, discreetly grabbed her phone to text Charles that it was best for them to end their relationship. She and Alexandra kissed a couple more times that night.

Five months later

alexandrasaintmleux just posted a story!

[caption 1: opening night 🍒 @yourusername] [caption 2: best view 💖]

[freakyformula]

Knight in shining armor

Summary: Readers car breaks down on the road and her friend Max picks her up.

Writers comment: Sorry for the inactivity, I had one of my wisdom teeth pulled and developed dry socket lol rip

Warnings: Some fluff

Word count: 2k

You had spent the last week away for a holiday with your family. You lived in Monaco while your family still resided in your home country. You had barely graduated college when you decided to work abroad. Living away from your family was tough, but the week after you moved in, as you walked home, you stopped by the harbour and that's where you met him. Max Verstappen. He was handsome and had the finest smile you'd ever seen. Stating that you fell for him then and there would be an overstatement but you felt something in your heart.

You thought you recognised his face but couldn't place him. When he laid his eyes on you, on the other hand, he stopped in his tracks and studied you for a moment. Then, he walked up to you and introduced himself. And the rest was history, you instantly hit it off as friends. Max was special, you two had something that you hadn't ever felt with anyone else. When he was home from his busy job in Formula 1, you would often spend time together, even sleeping at each other's apartments, although not in the same bed. You lived in the same district as him, Fontveille, only a couple of buildings apart.

"Yeah, yeah, Max! I'll be at your place in about an hour." You laugh as you hear Max's worried voice on the other end of the phone.

"Please drive carefully." He pleads.

He'd insisted on picking you up from the airport or ordering an Uber but you politely declined.

As you grab your bags, you walk straight to the car rental. You glanced at the cars available and decided on a small black Audi. You had to admit that you were tired. The long flight had taken its toll, and you started to regret insisting on driving home but you felt like you had to prove to Max that you could take care of yourself.

You pay for the car and drag your heavy bags out. Getting them into the small car was a task itself but you managed, somehow. As you started your 20-minute drive you felt the fatigue in your body. When you made it onto the highway you felt relieved, because you were one step closer to home and Max.

You'd barely made it halfway when the car started to lose power, leaving you stranded at the edge of the highly trafficked highway. "Fuck… What do I do.." You panicked, you didn't have any numbers saved and didn't know French that well yet so calling for a tow was out of the question. You didn't really care about the car at this point, but rather about how you were supposed to make it home safely. You had to think for a few minutes, listing your options in your head. Then, as if by a miracle, the phone called. Max. Shit, what was she going to say, that she was a damsel in distress and she was stuck on the highway?

"Hi, Max." You said.

"Hi lieverd, are you home soon? I was getting worried."

"Ummm, so, I'm kinda stuck on the highway… The damn car broke down. But I'm figuring it out, I promise!" You blurt the last part out. Silence. You waited for a reply for what felt like a minute. You hear the sound of keys clinging. "I'm on my way. Y/N, please for the love of god, stay in the car and turn your location on." Max quickly and shortly replies before he hangs up.

"I…" You start before you realise that he ended the call. You did as he'd told you and looked around. The cars drove past at such fast and close proximity.

This was Max in a nutshell, always there, having all of the solutions to the world's problems up his sleeve. You felt so pathetic at the fact that you couldn't even make your way home by yourself.

15 minutes later, you see a car that you quickly identify as Max's car speed by on the other side of the highway. He quickly makes his way to your lane and parks his car behind yours.

He walks up to your broken-down car, minding the traffic. "Need a ride?" He teases.

"Shut up!" You step out, giving his side a nudge. You open the trunk where the bags were, and Max drags them to his car, placing them in the back with care.

You lock the Audi and step into Max's luxurious and grand Aston Martin. It smells like him.

"Ready to go?" Max asks and grabs the wheel.

You take his hand into yours and stare into his eyes as he turns to look at you in confusion.

"Thank you, for this." You thank him, making him huff.

"Of course Y/N, I told you I should have picked you up. I want to spend all the time I can with you before the next race weekend." You smile at him and you start the drive to Monaco and Fontveille. The whole way home, he held your hand tightly, as if he was scared to lose you. The gesture made your heart even warmer than it already was.

Max parks neatly and effortlessly in his parking house and carries your bags out, insisting on handling them. You walk behind him like a puppy, letting him lead you to his apartment.

As you walk in, you instantly toss your shoes and crash on his sofa, with him following, laying down beside you.

"Wanna order some food?" You whisper, looking at him.

"Someone's hungry, I see. What do you want, princess?"

"Something really unhealthy, preferably. Pizza, maybe?"

And with that, you ordered your food with Max, playfully arguing whether pineapple was acceptable to put on pizza.

"Do you want to do something in particular tonight, schat?"

"Anything that includes you sounds good to me." You smile at him.

"Does snuggles sound good to you? You look tired." Max says.

You nod as an answer, as you switch on the TV, leaving on the random rom-com in the background. You grab a blanket that was left on the sofa and lie down with your head in Max's lap. You both sigh contently. He slowly rubs your head, giving you a relaxing head massage.

You loved his attention to your needs, he had always treated you with respect under this last year that you'd known each other. Max was always extremely clingy with you, holding your hand, and reminding you how much he likes spending time with you. You didn't think anything of it at the time but lately you started noticing how caring he actually was. He wasn't like this with anyone else of the girls from your mutual friend group either.

As you were thinking about the signs Max gave you, he must have noticed how distant you were because he took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

"You okay?" He asks with concern in his voice.

"Yes, I am, Max." You chuckled and gave him a squeeze back.

"How was your holiday? Tell me everything." Max asks of you.

As you tell him all of the gossip and details he starts to rub your hands, creeping up your arms. And then, he pulls you into his arms, leaving a quick kiss on the top of your head.

You pulled away. You weren't against the affection, but you needed some clarity. Max was like a closed book when it came to his feelings and emotions, rarely talking about what he felt, regardless of whether it was positive or negative.

You quickly gather your thoughts and Max seems to do the same.

"W-what are we doing?" You ask him.

He looks you in the eyes and cups your cheeks, unable to keep his hands off you. You didn't protest, vice versa, you leaned into his touch. This was new but it felt right.

He sighed. "What I'm going to tell you is something I've been waiting to say for the last year or so. I should have told you sooner but I was scared you would reject me. Y/N, I really really like you… More than as a friend, and I've been trying to ignore my feelings for you but I'm simply unable to keep this to myself any longer."

You were speechless, you had your suspicions but it still came as a surprise.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same way about me, but I couldn't keep it in." He continues.

"Max…" You break the eye contact. "I like you too, I mean… A lot."

Max eyes warm up with joy, and he gives you the warmest smile you'd ever seen. His smile reached all the way up to his eyes, and you thought it was the most adorable thing you'd ever seen.

You wake up in a bed. The sheets smell fresh, like citrus, and Max's cologne. You turn around, rubbing your eyes, but find no one on the other side of the bed. You find your way downstairs, to the living room and kitchen. Max is standing at the stove with his back turned to you. What is he possibly doing, you think. It's common knowledge that Max sucks at cooking.

You sit down at the kitchen island, getting lost in his beauty. It's quiet, the only exception being Max's swear words as he manages to burn himself and whatever is in the pan. After a while, he breaks the silence, "You know, Y/N, it's not polite to stare." He says as he turns around to face you.

You were embarrassed and sat there stuttering, not quite knowing what to say. "I-I-I swear I wasn't!"

Max laughs, "Uh huh..." And scoops two eggs onto each plate. One for you and one for himself. "Thank you, Max, this is too much..." You say, still blushing. He walks around the island and takes a seat next to you, giving your temple a light kiss while holding his arm around you.

"No, Y/N. This is barely enough." He smiles.

"So... What happened last night?" You ask. You really didn't remember, you must've dozed off.

"We talked about your holiday, and what happened last night, you know, you ending up on the road, and you fell asleep. I carried you to my bed, and I slept on the sofa. Nothing happened, by the way." He clarifies, holding his hands up. You look at him, and you can't make out if you were shocked or happy, or something else. One thing you knew for sure though, you were thankful for him. As he gets up again to get some juice and bread, you walk up to him, not saying anything. "Y/N, what's wrong?" He asks, worried.

You're lost in his eyes, and stand there like a fool. Just studying his beautiful stance. You had no idea what got into you, but you fall into his arms, holding him tightly, not letting go.

Max laughs nervously, "What are you doing?" While hugging you back, or rather squeezing you. You were unable to even breathe while he was holding you. You stay like that for what feels like forever, both of you fusing together, not being able to let go, not wanting to let go.

When you finally part, you're both out of breath from holding each other so hard. "Shall we?" Max asks, pointing to the eggs. As you eat, you don't say anything, neither does Max. You're processing what just happened and Max seems to do the same. You didn't regret hugging him, on the contrary, you were happy with yourself.

"I think I love you, Y/N." Max admits while washing the two plates, not daring to look at you.

Hearing the words, you freeze. You know exactly what to say, but the words don't come out. Max finally turns around to face you, and you're sat with the blankest of expressions, further worrying him. "Y/N?" He walks up to you.

"I... I think I love you too?" You ask yourself, already knowing the answer. You did love him, there was no question. You'd always loved him.

Upon hearing your words, Max lets out a sigh of relief, while walking up to you, and embracing you.

"Thank fuck." He sighs. You can feel him almost trembling, or rather vibrating from nervousness. His grip on you tightens, pulling you closer, before he lets you out of his grip. "Let me rephrase that, I don't think I love you, I love you."

[mymindisneverhere]

warnings: 18+ SMUT, a big of angst, fingering, a little praise kink, possessiveness, age gap

Summary: College student, Aaliyah, is obsessed with her Professor and tries to use what she has to get a favor out of him during the last class of the semester.

Professor Richmond

“Alright class, settle down and let’s begin.” He spoke over the voices that rang out.

“Today’s assignment will be simple. I want you all to write a two page paper on someone who inspires you.” He said walking around to the front of his desk. He stood in place, both feet planted on the ground as he rested his hands in front of his waist, his left hand grasping his right wrist.

Aaliyah stared up at him like a ravenous lion. How could one man be so damn fine? The fact that he didn't flaunt his attractiveness made her want him even more.

However, she was his student and he was her professor. There was no way she could ever do anything with him, she wouldn’t do anything to get this man fired but he had to know the effect he was having on her. There was no way he didn’t know.

“Now this could be anyone, a parent, a celebrity, mailman or an artist. I want you to go into grave detail about how their lives have impacted your own and what you plan to do with said inspiration. You’ve got the whole class to write.”

He looked down at his wrist watch, always on his left wrist. “Time starts now.”

Professor Richmond had chosen to teach at the local University after leaving the Marines. He was a huge lover of education and believed that he had a purpose to fulfill by teaching the importance of knowing your history. To enlighten the youth on those who came before them and the impact they had that still affects us in the present day.

Aaliyah was so stuck in a trance, her eyes were still locked onto him while all of her classmates buried their heads into their laptops. She watched intensely as he proceeded to go through his folders, the way his eyebrows furrowed with every document he viewed. That damn look he always made when he was focused, made her squirm in her seat. She wanted him so badly.

He could feel her staring at him. Mostly because she had done it all semester. He worried that she’d never heard a word he said because she was too busy lusting over him.

Professor Richmond knew how women were when it came to him. He was aware that he was a very attractive man and no matter how reserved he was there was always a woman ready to pounce on him at any moment.

“Ms. Johnson, is there something you’d like to ask me?’ He asked, never taking his eyes off of the documents he was looking over.

“No Professor, just brainstorming is all.” Aaliyah replied in a soft and flirtatious tone.

He didn’t bother looking up at her at all. She was the same as the other young girls who he’d teach for 10 weeks. He at least expected his senior students to be more mature than the freshmen but women would be women no matter their ages.

Aaliyah finally took her eyes off of him and got to work along with her peers. The sound of keyboards clicking and papers being turned over filled the room. The students were really determined to write their best papers considering the fact that this was their last assignment before college graduation.

After 75 minutes of writing, the Professor finally dismissed the class, making sure to announce the importance of emailing their final assignments before leaving for the day. He watched as his students packed their bags and left the large classroom.

Next class…

”I’ve graded your papers and I’ve sent each of you an email explaining why you received the grade you received.” Professor Richmond announced to the class. “Feel free to see me after class if you have any comments or concerns about your final grade. I’ll see you all at graduation.”

Relieved at yet another semester down, he let out a silent sigh and took a seat at his desk. All of his students passed and were all qualified for graduation so he doubted that anyone would come and see him after receiving their final grades.

Just as he expected, all of his students exited the classroom in groups… well except one student of course.

“Excuse me Professor?” Aaliyah said, trying to appear sweet and innocent.

“Yes Ms. Johnson?” He said, his fingers tapping away at his computer keyboard.

“Well I wanted to talk to you about my final grade.” She stated, placing her book bag on the floor. “You gave me a C.”

”That’s a passing grade.” He responded, his eyes never leaving the computer screen.

“Yeah but I can’t accept a C.” She said, trying her hardest to see what had him so occupied through his glasses.

“Why is that?” He questioned.

“Well my parents are really strict about how I perform in school,” Aaliyah admitted. She leaned onto his desk trying to appear seductive. Her v-neck shirt putting her Double D’s on full display. “So I wanted to know if there was anything I could do to maybe change it to a B?”

He paused before locking his computer screen and turning his gaze to hers. He just hoped she wasn’t coming to him trying to use her body to get him to change her final grade. Most men were easy in that way, he was not.

“That is your final grade Ms. Johnson.” He stated matter of factly. “Now if you would like to discuss why you got the grade, I’d be more than happy to do so. But your grade stays the same.” He finished, his expression still.

”I’m confident I can get you to change that grade.” She said, staring into his eyes with all the seduction she can muster up.

Aaliyah was young, a bit naive and had a lot of energy for the wrong reasons. Most men, boys, would bend at her every word. She was a gorgeous girl, her chestnut colored skin, her deep brown eyes and her full breasts and curves that made every outfit seem painted on, always got her what she wanted.

She just knew all of what she had would make him change his mind… or so she thought.

“Let me guess Ms. Johnson, you’re hoping to pleasure me in some way in exchange for a better grade.” He spat, cutting to the chase.

The expression on his face turned from disinterest into slight disgust. Not because she wasn’t attractive but because he thought a girl like her should think highly of herself.

It wasn’t necessary for her to use her body to get things, she could simply just ask and receive them. But she didn’t know her own power and it was very apparent to the Professor.

”I’ve had many girls try this before. No disrespect to you Ms. Johnson, but if that was your intention you can leave.” He said, turning his attention back to his computer.

”You haven’t been with a woman like me.” Aaliyah stated confidently.

“A woman like you?” Professor questioned, putting an emphasis on “woman”.

”Did I stutter, Professor?” She smirked flirtatiously.

”A woman like you?” He smirked back. “Who’s still dependent on her parents' approval? You’re still at that age?” He could see her face slowly drop, because he was spot on.

“What? Are they gonna kick you out of the house all because you got a C?” He added.

“I’ll be 23 in a few months and I don’t even live with my parents!” She shot back. “So yeah, a woman like me!”

“Who is trying to get her grade changed because if she doesn’t her parents will punish her?” He stated, causing her to stand up straight.

“Let me guess you put on Bath and Body Works perfume, Victoria’s Secret bra and panties set and cheap lip gloss thinking a man like me would bend at your beck and call?”

Aaliyah sat stunned. He was absolutely right. She had just bought the matching set, so excited to showcase it to him just for him to clock her on the spot.

She looked down in embarrassment and folded her arms trying to hide her chest. The guys she’d been with would've already had her bent over the desk and given her what she wanted easily. But then again they were all her age so it wasn’t hard to turn them on.

Her embarrassment turned into anger very quickly. How could he not expect her to make advances at him? As beautiful as he was, as fine as he was, he had to know she would go after him eventually.

“You can’t blame me for trying!” She yelled. “I mean look at you. You are gorgeous, I’d be dumb to not try.”

“Thank you but throwing yourself at me isn’t the way to get my attention or any real man’s attention.” He spoke calmly, sincerity in every word.

He stood up from his desk and walked around, meeting her face to face. He looked down at her, her face red of embarrassment. “You’re a smart girl Aaliyah. You’re beautiful, you’re talented, you don’t have to use your body to get what you want from men. You simply existing will get the job done every time.”

She looked up at him, surprised at what he was saying. He stared at her for a few more seconds, reading her like a book.

“Did you just come here hoping I’d fuck you and send you on your way?” He asked, his thick eyebrows furrowed in disapproval.

Her head jerked back in surprise, she didn’t expect the Professor to be so blunt. He was always so calm and well mannered, even when he was obviously annoyed.

“Well yeah, that’s how it usually goes.” Aaliyah replied, staring down at her feet. “I’ll just leave, the C is fine. I just thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

Professor Richmond walked over to the small window carved in his classroom door and covered it. He locked the door and turned back around to face her.

”I’m not that kind of guy.” He said placing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and crossing the room to her. He invaded all of her personal space, intoxicating her with the smell of his warm cologne. “I can’t just have you for a day and that be it. I’m possessive. Once you’re mine, you’re mine until I say otherwise.”

He stared down at her intensely, hoping she knew how serious he was. It wasn’t that he was never attracted to her, it was the simple fact that he knew the kind of man he was. He couldn’t just engage with just any woman, especially not one like Aaliyah. There was no telling what he’d do if another guy even smiled at her.

“Um, okay.” Aaliyah replied nervously.

“Mine.” He reiterated, his eyes darting back and forth between hers.

“Yours.” She said in an almost whisper, staring up at him through her eyelashes.

“Turn around.” He demanded, still staring down at her.

She did as she was told. He ran his hand down her sides and under her miniskirt. His hand explored all that she had underneath it, her ass, her thighs, her hips and her pussy that began to ache from desire.

“You may think I don’t know how much you stare at me during every class but I notice everything.” He admitted. “The way you’d whisper to your friends thinking I couldn’t hear you.”

Aaliyah stood there breathing slowly but her heart was racing. He carefully removed her thong letting it drop to her ankles. He placed soft kisses on her neck, still exploring her body with his hands.

“I’ve been watching you for a while.” He started. His trail of kisses led down to her shoulders, licking each spot before placing a kiss there.

“The way your hips sway when you walk.”

Kiss.

“The way your lips move when you talk.”

Kiss.

“The way you lick your lips when you get stuck in a daze thinking about me.”

Kiss. Kiss.

Aaliyah was beginning to get nervous. This whole time she thought she was the one keeping an eye on him and here he was telling her that he had been watching her as well. Her mind began to wonder how long he had paid attention to her. What had all he witnessed her do and say without her knowing?

The professor slid his tongue from her collar bone back up to her ear lobe. He exhaled into her ear before kissing her there, the tingling feeling made her arch her back. She reached up and placed her hand on the back of his head, loving every second of his lips against her skin.

“Professor.” Aaliyah moaned in a whisper, pressing her ass against his dick. She wanted him badly, there was no denying it. Every kiss had her body reacting like never before. It was like her body was under a spell that the Professor had casted and only he can undo.

“To approach me thinking I’d pump you and dump you, is that what you believe you deserve?” He slid his finger in between her pussy lips so easily, she was leaking for him. If he decided to go any further than toying with her, she’d never be the same.

“No.” She let out in a staggered breath.

He played with her clit, his middle finger moving in circles while his other hand pulled her shirt down exposing her breasts. He teased her nipples, making her head drop back onto his chest.

“That’s it, relax.” He whispered. He looked down at her face, her eyes shut and her lips slightly parted. He brought his free hand up to her face and caressed her cheek before sticking his middle and ring fingers in her mouth.

“Mmmmm.”

“Look at you, coming undone for me.” He teased. “I’m barely touching you.”

The more she sucked his finger, the more she felt a new hunger brew. His deep, rich tone in her ear drove her wild. The vibrations from his baritone traveling down to her clit every time he spoke to her.

Grinding her hips against his fingers, she could feel his thick dick bulging through his pants. She was so wet he didn’t even have to move his fingers anymore. She rocked her hips back and forth against his fingers until she felt a strong power build just below her navel.

“You gone cum for me, pretty girl?” His eyes never left her face, watching carefully as she chased her orgasm.

“Mhmmmmm.”

“Cum for me.” On cue, she let herself go, her mouth falling open and her knees buckling.

“Ooh shit.” She moaned, dropping all of her weight into him.

He wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her upright. He held onto her as she struggled to catch her breath, still feeling the intense effects of her orgasm.

She opened her eyes and looked around the room, trying to gain her composure. She let out a deep breath and placed her hands on his desk to balance herself.

“Sit down.” He instructed, tapping the wooden desk. She did as she was told, placing her hands behind her and slowly easing onto the cold furniture. The sound of her wet pussy lips departing made his dick jump as she spread her legs for him to get a better view.

“You look so beautiful when you cum.” He said, running his hand over her slippery clit.

He kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth while he slid two fingers into her. Without hesitation, he began pumping her into another orgasm, barely giving her time to come down from the first.

She tried as hard as she could to kiss him back but the pleasure was too intense. Her eyes locked onto his as he continued exploring her insides with his fingers. As time went by she could feel parts of her soul being snatched away piece by piece as stared down at her. She could see the emotion changing in his face, his eyes shifting from a soft blue to a grayish-green.

“Tell me you’re mine.” He demanded, never taking his eyes off of hers.

“I-I’m yours.” She spoke as her breath hitched.

“You mine until I say so?” He asked, pumping her faster.

“Fuck yes!” She moaned through her teeth, trying to keep quiet. She dropped her head back as she tried to quiet her cries. He stared down at her chest, her big breasts bouncing along with every pump of his fingers was a sight to see. He bent down taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking it violently but never interrupting the rhythm of his fingers.

“S-someone’s gonna h-hear me Professor.” She struggled.

“Then don’t let them.” He whispered. The way her pussy was tightening around his fingers, let him know she was close.

“Oh my God.” She shut her eyes tight. The flood was growing greater and greater by the second. Aaliyah tried her hardest to hold it in. She didn’t wanna rain all over his important documents but he wasn’t letting up.

“Don’t fight it.” He started. “Be a good girl and let me have it.”

“Ugghhh fuuuuckkk,” She cried. She came harder than the first time, squirting all over his desk. His movements didn’t stop until he drained her completely. Her orgasm was followed up with a few yeses, repeating herself until her voice went hoarse.

The professor was unbothered by the possibility of them being heard. He wanted to make sure he left his mark on her, so no matter where she went in the world, she’d never forget about him or how he made her feel.

Aaliyahs eyes rolled into her head from defeat and exhaustion. Cumming more than once in one setting and back to back like this was a first for her. Her chest rose rapidly as she tried to make sense of what had just happened.

She needed to recuperate, come back down to Earth, remember that she was his student and nothing more. But she could feel the obsession growing greater in her mind. There was no way he was gonna be able to do this to any other woman, to any other student, after her.

He thought he was a possessive man but he had just created a monster without even needing to fuck her. There was no way he could get married if not to her, have children if she wasn’t carrying them and not spend every second of every day wherever she was marking her anyway he chose.

“Aaliyah.” He spoke into the crook of her neck, kissing her softly.

She didn’t respond, still fighting to come back into reality.

“Aaliyah.” He repeated.

She still couldn’t bring herself to utter a word.

“Aaliyah!”

She gasped, snapping out of her daydream. She looked over to her friend Kiana, who had been calling her name for the past five minutes.

“Huh?” Aaliyah said, eyes wide as she realized she was doing it again.

“Girl we only got 20 minutes left in class and you’ve been staring at the Professor this whole time?” Kiana whispered harshly, her eyebrows bent in confusion and concern. “Bitch you gone fail if you don’t write something!”

Aaliyah looked around the room to the other students. All were buried into their laptops, some had their ears plugged, others typing away at their keyboards. She looked over at Professor Richmond, his full attention on his computer.

“Oh bitch I know you wasn’t daydreaming about the Professor again!”

(Please excuse any mistakes! 🩵)

[gguk-n]

Pivotal choice (Carlos Sainz x Race Engineer!Vowels!Reader)

Summary- Just as the summer break 2024 started Carlos Sainz Jr announced that he would be joining Williams Racing from 2025 onwards. Everyone thought it was because James Vowels was persistent little did they know, Carlos's decision rested in Vowel's daughter's hand who was currently working as a race engineer at Williams.

There had been a shift in Williams from the start of 2024 season, it wasn't visible to the world but anyone in Formula One could see it. James Vowels, it seems was making the right decisions, but in actuality it was his daughter, Y/N who had just joined as a race engineer who was calling the shots during race strategies and giving her opinion to her dad which helped him make decisions. She was the reason Logan got his first point last year and the reason Alex was able to compete for points. That's how her and Logan had grown closer together since they were closer in age and had the same sense of humour.

Vowels spent a lot of his time courting Carlos Sainz Junior, especially after he had lost his seat to Lewis Hamilton in the start of the season much to his daughter's dismay. She couldn't believe her father was being so irrational and persistent which translated into her growing annoyance and hatred for the Ferrari driver. Y/N had caught Carlos's eyes the first time her dad had dragged her along to dinner with Carlos after the race. She had made sure to let her father and the potential Williams driver know of her annoyance at being dragged here and the fact that they were possibly making Logan seatless for next year.

She remembers it like yesterday when her dad after much deliberation and push had resigned Logan. She had even offered to be his race engineer to help him; her dad didn't think she could do much but agreed. She was currently not only Logan's race engineer but his therapist. So, you can imagine how much she was hating being here. Vowels got up to use the restroom leaving the two together; Y/N ate her food quietly not even looking up. "I heard you're Logan's race engineer" Carlos began. She nodded. "I know it must be difficult to sit and have dinner with the guy who might take your drivers seat. I'm sorry but the world of motorsports is cut throat and" she cut Carlos off with "I know, I'm just salty dad's being like this since Logan has potential if given the right chances, not looking for a replacement." she said looking into his eyes. Carlos's breath hitched in his throat, those were beautiful eyes he thought. "Again I'm sorry but I need to weigh all my options" he continued. "I know" she hung her head down while continuing to cut into her food. Her father was back soon, trying to cozy up and butter Carlos up. There was a perpetual grimace on her face apart from her usual frown.

The dinner couldn't end any sooner because Y/N bolted out with a quick good bye. Carlos was intrigued. He wanted to know more about this girl who looked at him with more disdain than Logan himself. Carlos found himself looking at her whenever she was around or searching for her during race weekends. He had found out from Alex that she was James Vowel's only daughter; extremely smart since she graduated from mechanical engineering and masters in automobile. She had used her connections to land good internships so that her being hired by Williams wouldn't be weird. She was a nepo baby who knew what she wanted and how to get it. To add insult to injury, she was friends with Logan which explained the disdain. Carlos found her interesting; she was funny from what he had gathered and found himself laughing at her jokes when he would over hear her conversations, she was pretty which he had decided the first time he saw her walk in with her dad, she was close with not only Logan Sargeant but Oscar Piastri who she didn't glare at like she would glare at him from time to time. It was starting to hurt Carlos's feelings.

The next time they met, Y/N looked even more annoyed with his presence then she could've been the last time they met, he thought. She was being dragged along by her dad again even though she threatened to run away. "Dad, I'm not having dinner with him. For goodness sake, let me mourn in peace." she snapped. "I don't get what you're mourning. Having Carlos on Williams is what we need. Also, I would like you to be his race engineer. Both of you are smart and will make a great team, I can already see it" Vowels reasoned trying to get his daughter to see the bigger picture. "Well I don't. I'll be Alex's engineer if Logan's no longer on the team" she stated. "You do not get a say in today's dinner, we'll discuss your plans for next year later. Now get dressed before I fire you" he commanded. "Ugh, that's why I didn't want to work for you. Even Sauber would've been fine at this point" she whined. "Well, we have points and they don't" he snapped. "Would've had more, had you not fucked Logan over" she snapped back and went to get dressed. "Language missy" James shouted back at her.

Carlos was bearing the brunt of much of Y/N's annoyance who got jabbed in her rib by her dad about 4 times since they sat down and the food wasn't even out yet. "I really want you and Y/N to get along since I feel like if you join Williams, Y/N would be a good fit as your race engineer even though she's a rookie. I'm not just saying this because she's my daughter." Vowels told Carlos. "Well, I'm not a good fit for him" she muttered. "If you'll excuse us Carlos" Vowels said sternly dragging her out, "I swear, if you do not behave I will drop Logan right now, God knows how much I want to" he seethed. "dad" she whispered with tears in her eyes. "Now, you'll walk in and be on your best behaviour." he commanded. She nodded and quickly wiped away her tears and walked in with her dad. Carlos noticed the sudden shift, her demeanour sadder and hurt, not the usual snappy and sarcastic self. Dinner ended without anymore hiccups, Y/N only nodded her head along to whatever her dad had to say.

Carlos wasn't sure what Vowels told his daughter which made her look like a puppy that had been kicked. But he did ask the restaurant they were eating at to pack him an assortment of their best dessert; he had heard from the others that she loved desserts, maybe this would cheer her up, he thought. He grabbed the bag before exiting the restaurant and handed it to her, her dad was waiting for the valet to bring his car who was now watching the pair interact. "What's this?" she asked. "Something to cheer you up" Carlos said. "I don't want it and you don't need to cheer me up" she said trying to hand him the bag back. "I know but I want to" he clarified. "You're already in my dad's good books, you don't have to try this hard" she said. "I don't want to, I want to be in your good books" Carlos smiled. Y/N's heart skipped a beat watching him smile, this was weird. "I don't think you can be" she corrected. "Well then, just enjoy the food. Don't think about it too much" he leaned into whisper in her ear, winking at her before climbing into his car which was ready for him. Y/N was staring at the bag in her hand and the driver that just handed it to her before leaving. She felt guilty now for treating him like shit when he was just trying to stay in the sport like anyone would.

She was in her home, slowly unboxing the package from Carlos which had a collection of macaroons, donuts, cheesecakes, red velvet cakes. This was so much food for anyone, she could have this for a couple days. The next time she meets Carlos, she should thank him, she thought as she took a bite of the coffee flavoured macaroon which tasted too good to even be real.

She got to meet Carlos in the next race, instead of running away or frowning like she had been doing the past couple months, she smiled at him and walked up to him; Carlos thought he was dreaming. The Y/N Vowels was walking up to him, it felt unreal, he almost pinched himself. "Thanks for the sweet treats, I loved them." she said. "That's a relief, I wasn't sure what you liked so I got you a few of everything" he replied. "Well, next time you wanna get me something, there is this patisserie in Paris." she began. "Tell me the address and I'll bring that to you next time" he interrupted. "I was just kidding. I enjoyed them. Thanks but that doesn't mean I'm okay with whatever is happening" she corrected. "If it means you'll stop looking at me like I killed a man than that's a win in my books" he laughed. She waved him off and walked away to the Williams garage.

"Were you talking to Y/N?" Lando asked. "yeah" Carlos said. "Why? Fancy her?" Lando laughed. "Maybe" Carlos thought out loud. "Mate, I think she likes Logan or something" Lando said immediately. "Really?" Carlos asked, a little hurt. "Yeah, I think that's what Oscar was talking about to Lily or something, I just over heard them anyways" Lando shrugged.

Carlos didn't think he liked Y/N, not until Lando asked him. That's when he realised that he did. There was a reason he tried so hard to make her like him and wished she would talk to him in all those dinners. He felt like he understood why she was being so annoyed with him since he would possibly replace the guy she liked. Carlos was a little hurt, he wished that was a piece of information Lando hadn't passed onto him.

Y/N on the other hand, found herself thinking about Carlos a lot, since he tried to cheer her up. She realised that she was being too harsh on Carlos when it was not his fault and if there was anyone she should be angry at was her dad and not Carlos. She found herself looking through his race stats and his strategies. She couldn't help but admire him for his craft. Maybe, she was being a little too unwelcoming. Obviously, she would fight tooth and nail for Logan; her dad wasn't having his way this easily.

The next dinner, Y/N felt like Carlos wasn't talking to her like the previous dinners. He would try to get her input on anything and listen intently even if she was bad mouthing him but right now, he was talking only business with her dad. She had decided to be civil today and didn't even make a snide remarks. A part of her was hurt, maybe she deserved it after the shitty way she had been treating Carlos. Dinner took forever to end, for other reasons than the previous ones. She tried to strike up a conversation with Carlos but nothing came of it.

A few weeks later, her father had stopped pestering her to tag along to dinners with Carlos. She was happy this way, until at family dinner. "I think I'm close to signing Carlos" James told his wife. "That sounds wonderful, darling" she remarked. "What do you mean?" Y/N almost shouted. "Not having you around seemed very fruitful to me, considering you're always frowning at the poor guy" your father corrected. "You can't kick Logan out without giving him a fair chance." she pointed out. "I gave him a chance and he blew it, it's not my fault" your father reprimanded. "No you did not. I can't believe you're behaving like this" she pushed the food away. "If you are going to be this rude, leave. I'll see what you can do without my name" your father replied. She had tears pricking her eyes. "dad" she began. "Just because you're my only daughter, doesn't mean I will let you behave like a rude brat and get away with it. Go on, I want to see what you can do with out me or my help" he said. He wasn't like this, she thought. Her mother tried to calm her father down but Y/N left.

Their fight wasn't over. It had seeped into their work where they would only talk when necessary. Everyone in Williams could fell the tense environment. Logan and Alex tried to diffuse the environment but Y/N just brushed it off, until she couldn't anymore. There were rumours floating around that Logan would be replaced next year or worse mid season because of the shit her dad was blabbering about in interviews. She was sick and tired of that man, that's why she was now storming into his office. The secretary left quickly, sensing the atmosphere.

"Dad, what is wrong with you? You need media training, not your drivers" she snapped. "What is this behaviour? Is this how you talk to your father?" he raised his voice. "Mr Vowels, please behave like an adult. Please don't talk crap about your drivers while they are driving for you at least" she reprimanded. " Miss Vowels, I'll talk however I like" he snapped back. The Miss Vowels hurt, "dad" she huffed. "I'm not your dad in this office. I'm the team principal of a team that is failing and I want to bring to the top" he replied sternly. "You can do all that without disposing people off like collateral damage" she pointed. "I'll do what I think is right" he said. "If you want Carlos to sign, stop talking about him in every interview like a love sick teenager. Tell him our stats and make promises you can keep and then if he signs give your driver who had been with you since his junior career a respectful send off" she said turning around. "You don't mind Carlos joining" he asked hopeful. "It's your team. I'm just an employee" she replied dejected.

Y/N had tears streaming down her face when Logan met her. "I'm sorry, I'm such a shitty friend. I told you I'll do anything for you but I can't" she cried. "It's okay. I know you are trying your best" Logan said wrapping her in his arms. "It's hard fighting your dad" she sobbed. "I know" he patted her back. "I don't blame you for it" he smiled bitterly rubbing her back. "Maybe I shouldn't have joined Williams" she sobbed. "Hey! You helped me score points and are giving valuable input, don't say that. I'm so proud of you and how far you've come" he said looking at her and wiping her tears. His hands were cupping her cheeks, "You did what you could, now it's my turn" he smiled at her. "I'll do whatever it takes. I'll continue racing even if it's not in formula one, I won't stop racing" he declared. He wiped away her tears, "Now smile, I hate it when my best friend cries" he teased.

Maybe talking to Carlos was like fraternising with the enemy, maybe that's why she felt awkward approaching him. She should have no reason to approach him anyways. There are already weird rumours floating around because of her father, she didn't want to add fuel to the fire.

Y/N ran into Carlos when she was rushing to her garage at the Spanish GP, where there were rumours floating around that he would announce the team he was joining. "Sorry" she apologised looking at the man she had run into. "It's okay" Carlos replied. "Did you sign a contract yet?" she asked abruptly. "No" Carlos replied scratching his neck. "Weigh in all you options. Whatever choice you make, let it be the best it is for you" she advised. "I thought you didn't want me at Williams" he commented. "I was being too emotional about losing my best friend. I've matured now" she smiled at him. "Logan's your best friend?" he asked, Carlos really needs to focus on more important things instead of the fact that his crush isn't crushing on another man, but he was a man of simple needs. "yeah. I mean you'll probably understand since....if something like this happened to Lando" she said shuffling her feet. "yeah" Carlos nodded. "Good luck with the decision" Y/N wished him. "You know, maybe we could go out for food" Carlos suggested. "Isn't it unethical since I'm William's team principal's daughter?" she smirked. "I haven't signed yet, so no" Carlos smiled. "Don't you want to spend time with your family" she asked. "Maybe you could join me" he winked. "What?" she asked, blushing. "I was kidding, but if you want to, I don't mind" now he was smirking. "Ah, no. Let's go out after the triple header's done" she told him. "No take backs" Carlos insisted, his tone firm as he scanned her eyes. "Ferrari's hottest driver just asked me out, I'd be a fool to say no" she teased. Carlos was now blushing, "I'll see you in Silverstone" he said, "for our date" he added tentatively. "yeah" she said biting her lower lip trying not to smile.

Y/N was counting down the days to Silverstone. The weeks didn't seem to pass. She didn't want anyone knowing either, not now anyways, what if she jinxed it?

The British GP was a big deal since it was Williams home race. Y/N was very busy with preparing everything related to work on the car. She had been working with Logan closely to get him the upgrades, which was taking longer than she hoped. Logan finishing just below points and Alex in points was great news. Everyone was ecstatic in the team and Vowels called for a team dinner which Y/N was thinking of ways to avoid. Her relation with her father was repairing it self slowly with the helpful intervention from her mother; "I will not be caught in a cross fire. This is a house not a war zone. Get along or I'm throwing you out James" her mum told her dad. That's why they had started being civil which in turn led to the atmosphere at Williams improving as well.

Y/N had lied saying that she was catching up with old friends and escaped the dinner after a lot of whining and cribbing on Alex and Logan's part for leaving them.

She got back, showered and got dressed. A white midi body con dress was calling her name. Carlos picked her up from her home, like a gentleman and held the door. "You look gorgeous" Carlos smiled checking her out. "Thank you Carlos, you look quite breath taking yourself" she breathed out.

They drove to the restaurant, talking about the most random things but racing was off the table. "If I knew how pretty you looked laughing I would've stolen you away ages ago" Carlos commented making Y/N blush. "I'm not that easy to entertain" she chided. "I know, I've been on the receiving end of some very angry stares" he laughed. "In my defence, my dad was being an ass" she spoke. "It's okay. I forgive you" he smiled.

The dinner ended rather quickly, much to the pair's dismay. "Do you want to do this again sometime?" Carlos asked hesitantly. "I would love to. Next week is off" she suggested. "Would you like to come to Monaco?" Carlos asked. "Yeah, see you then" she said kissing his cheek. "What will it take for you to kiss my lips?" he teased. "hmm..I'm a simple woman, a couple more dates maybe" she teased back. "I don't mind seeing you as often as I can but are you really going to keep me waiting?" he leaned in. "Maybe. But I could change my mind if you behave" Y/N bopped his nose and opened the door to her house biding him good night.

She was in Monaco next week, Carlos had come to pick her up from the airport and drove her around. She hadn't been in Monaco in a while. The place was warmer and the sun was shining down on them as they drove around. At night, they had dinner at a really nice Italian place. When they were walking around on the beach, "Spend the summer break with me?" Carlos asked. "I don't spend my holidays with random men" she teased. "Am I a random man?" Carlos cocked his eyebrow. "You aren't my boyfriend either" she retorted. "Well, maybe I'll ask you to be my girlfriend over the break, you'll have to find out thought" he joked. "Hmm..you drive a hard bargain Mr Sainz" she acted like she was thinking. She turned to him, "If this kiss is worth it, I might just spend the break with you" she provoked. "You're spending that break with me" he stated before he crashed his lips against her. Y/N's lips were warm and cushiony as Carlos's soft ones moved against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands found home on her waist. His nose bumping her cheek as they deepened the kiss. She pulled away, out of breath, "I guess I'm spending my break with you" she smiled at him. Carlos began to pepper his face with kisses.

The two of them had to wait for 2 more races. They were itching to be together; she couldn't go up to him and kiss his perfect face whenever she wanted. Carlos couldn't spend all his free time in the paddock with her; it was torture for the two of them.

Carlos had made up his mind, he would be signing with Williams. He saw a future and a very alluring exit clause just the way he wanted. He did mention something to Y/N about it but they didn't talk about racing during their dates.

It was the first day of the summer break, Carlos was laying in bed with Y/N in his arms; "I have an announcement to make" Carlos whispered. "At 9 in the morning" Y/N grumbled. "I'll be announcing which team I'm joining today" he spoke. "Really?" she asked, now wide awake. "yeah. I signed with Williams" he spoke slowly. It took a moment to register for Y/N and then tears prickled her eyes. She wasn't sure they were tears of joy or sorrow. "Congratulations" she croaked, kissing his lips. "I'm sorry about Logan" Carlos apologised squeezing her hips. "It's okay" she smiled weakly. "I'll make a few calls and be right back" he said getting out of bed. The video had been recorded and would be uploaded soon. Y/N was pacing around the house sending a few texts to Logan to check up on him and looking up what the fans had to say. As soon as the news went live, Y/N got a message from her dad; 'Carlos Sainz Jr is your new driver from next year' it read. She had a bitter sweet feeling reading the message.

Carlos came back, done with the initial announcement. "I'll be your engineer next year" Y/N said cupping his cheeks. "Yeah, that was one of my clauses for signing" he said cupping her cheeks too. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked looking into her eyes. "I don't know about mixing business and pleasure" she hesitated. "Just say yes" Carlos begged. "Promise me you won't get hurt" she asked. "I'll try my best" he replied. "Than, Yes" she said leaning in to kiss him, pushing up on her toes to close the distance. "I can't wait to kiss you in public" Carlos stated breaking the kiss. "Let's wait. After the way my dad has been courting you" she laughed. "Well I was trying to court his daughter" he retorted. "And you succeeded" she kissed him again. "Let's enjoy these 3 weeks of peace before we have to return" he said sweeping her off her feet and carrying her bridal style back to the room as she pressed open mouth kisses on his neck.

I've been working on this since the announcement. I had fun writing it. Hope you enjoy too.

[venjras]

FAMILY FRIEND - GOJO SATORU.

just a simple prompt because i was bored and had this idea in my head way too much lately. was thinking about making it a series, what do y’all think? ( wrote it in a rush, so excuse my grammar )

it's been a lifetime since you've started hearing about gojo, the family friend of endless qualities. but punctually there was never a chance to actually meet him, like a curse that brought both to diametrically different places whenever there was an opportunity for a possible clash. you heard about it at family dinners, during the update phone calls with your brother, there were even his t-shirts in the laundry basket every time you came home for spring breaks.

and it was about damn time, today was the day.

right now you were floating on the crystal clear surface of the pool water, enjoying the warm contrast that the sun's rays of that day of mid-august brought. with your eyes closed, you almost felt like you were levitating and as if everything around you was just the result of your imagination, so heavenly. the head inevitably went back to the night before, to the club where you were with your friends to celebrate the graduation. you had lost them after an hour from the arrival, they probably were with some guy and with the certainty that for that evening you weren’t going to see them again.

in fact, you found yourself alone, sitting at the bar counter turning the ice of your cocktail around with the deafening music that rumbled in your ears. a little puff came out of your lips, you didn't even realise the bulky presence next to you, imposing and massive, that would have no problem towering over your little frame. at some point you see the bartender replace your drink with a new one, gesture that makes you frown and finally get the first glance of that white haired boy and crystalline look that had long been resting on your face.

“i thought you'd use some company.” his deep voice resounded in your whole body, almost overcoming the loud speakers. your gaze slowly slid along his figure, muscular torso and perfectly fitted by a white shirt, unbuttoned and specially tighter to show the well-defined lines of his biceps, same for the jeans that left very little to no imagination. final touch given by that breathtaking face, well-marked jaw. he seemed almost sculpted by the gods and you were sure he knew. a wave of heat invaded the lower part of your body. you saw his lips hunch into a smile and that's where you realised you didn't answer him yet.

what happened in the next hour was too fast to even realise it, the last thing you knew was that you were locked between the wall and his body. his mouth was devouring yours, tongues looking for each other in a desperate dance, drinking you up completely. fingers pulling hard on his locks, legs wrapped around his waist, panties pulled to the side.

his cum already dripping down your shivering legs, what was his name again?

your nipples got hard and an annoying heat took possession of your lower belly at the mere memory, forced to go with your head under water. you had to recover, you didn't have time for these things. in less than an hour the family friend would arrive and finding you all frustrated was not the best idea. at the time you were only wearing a white bikini, you had just a couple of minutes to change into something more appropriate since, as much as that was your favourite piece, it was definitely too revealing.

and the heat too insistent, annoying, to the point that little by little it could have given you to the head. you came out of the water and pulled yourself up from the edge, too late to realise that two pairs of eyes were already looking at you. in particular one of them. “hey sis, have you met gojo yet?”

fuck, that's what his name was.

part two.

©️ venjras.

[sanguineterrain]

redamancy | steve harrington

Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)

A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.

divider by firefly-graphics

i. the promise 

"Would you ever get married?" 

You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it. 

You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety! 

"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."

You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same. 

"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married." 

You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.

"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin. 

"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago." 

You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."

"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."

"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve." 

"I guess."

You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten. 

"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask. 

Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."

"Dangerous."

He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."

"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."

Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious. 

"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."

Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer." 

"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"

"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."

You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."

Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me." 

"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?" 

"Not even to her."

You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.

"I'd marry you," you say. 

Steve's eyebrows shoot up. 

"What?"

"Like, if you were in a pinch."

He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth. 

"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."

"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."

"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."

"I hope she kept the receipt."

Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth. 

"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"

"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."

"I scoop ice cream for a living."

You level him with a look. 

"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."

His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why. 

"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says. 

Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with. 

"Let's make a pact," you say softly. 

He meets your eye. "A pact?"

"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."

"Well, I don't want a pity marriage." 

You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."

"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks. 

"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say. 

"I can't wait till I'm thirty." 

"Or you'll turn into an old maid?" 

"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat. 

You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"

Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!

Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do. 

"Do you mean it?" he asks. 

"Of course I do."

"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"

"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."

"You'll marry me?"

"I will."

"Swear on it."

You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.

You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?

"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."

"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."

"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."

"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"

"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."

Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart. 

"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night." 

Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve. 

"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"

"Always."

Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you. 

"'Kay. See you."

You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb. 

Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away. 

ii. the wound 

The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow. 

Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though. 

You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep. 

Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far. 

She looks away, and your not-smile falls. 

"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly. 

The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die. 

Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that. 

"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears. 

"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—" 

The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her. 

"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand. 

"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long." 

They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening. 

So he did. And now you're here. 

You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better. 

"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead. 

"Come sit," you say. 

"I need to see him," he tells you. 

"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"

"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."

You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita. 

Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait. 

At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all. 

"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."

Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels. 

A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.

"Go on."

Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway. 

"Go see him."

You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.

“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.

“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly. 

Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.

"Yes, he does." 

She holds out her hand. 

You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.

“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there." 

God, are you really that obvious? 

You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.

Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter. 

Steve’s eyes lock with yours. 

“Hey,” is all you say.

“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats. 

“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”

You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you? 

You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side. 

The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.

You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.

“Robin called me,” you say.

Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”

“You’re mad at me.”

Your breath is punched out of you. 

“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”

His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.

You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour. 

“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”

You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.

“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared." 

He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you." 

You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.

They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him. 

But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.

You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.

His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.

"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”

"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't." 

You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his. 

iii. the brand

“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.

“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.

“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.

It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.

“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks. 

“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.” 

“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”

Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve. 

“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.

“Me?!”

“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”

“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”

“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”

“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.

As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.

“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking.”

“Are you okay?”

He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.

“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”

“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”

He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair. 

"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."

"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly. 

"Pot, kettle."

"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."

"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks. 

"If you get us there in one piece, yes."

Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers. 

"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"

"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say. 

Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve. 

"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."

"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says. 

You scoff. "More like the other way around." 

He pouts. "Hey."

"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van. 

"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks. 

You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"

"No!" all three say.

"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters. 

Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops. 

"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"

"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"

"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat. 

You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve. 

"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment." 

"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded. 

"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests. 

"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."

"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."

You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years. 

But this? This is way, way beyond that. 

"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"

You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair. 

"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."

Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."

"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."

Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"

You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always. 

"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"

You wince at the wording. 

"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."

You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."

Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve. 

"Right, so I'll just…"

You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest. 

"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."

"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly. 

Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time. 

"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke. 

Steve smiles gently. "Hey."

His tone is fond. You feel sick. 

"Everybody good?" Eddie asks. 

He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection. 

"You two look cozy."

"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already." 

Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.

It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again. 

You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation. 

“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”

Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.

He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.

“Really, Munson?”

“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”

“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.

Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs. 

God, you’re never living this down. 

“Y’okay?” 

Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.

“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”

“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”

Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip. 

Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin. 

The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.

Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.

Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.

Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight. 

He looks like he's yours.

"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation. 

He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question. 

"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you." 

He relaxes. 

"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."

"Uh-huh." 

You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.

The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not. 

Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there. 

Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks. 

"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."

You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face. 

iv. the secret

It's raining. You're in Steve's bed. 

Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent. 

You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you. 

"Do you think he'll come back?" 

You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though. 

Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight. 

Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married. 

You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars. 

"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness. 

You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light. 

"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."

He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you. 

God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you? 

"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper. 

Steve squeezes your hand harder. 

"No one's gonna die."

You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles. 

"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?" 

"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again. 

"You can stay here as long as you want," he says. 

"I can go back to my room."

Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.

"Don't," he says. 

"Okay."

You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive. 

The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him. 

His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair. 

It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.

+ and, finally, the first.

"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for. 

"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."

He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away. 

"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"

You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.

"What?" Steve asks, looking at you. 

"You're funny, that's what."

"I am?"

"You sound like somebody's grandpa."

"I do not!"

"Do too," you say sweetly. 

"Do not."

"Do too infinity."

Steve rolls his eyes. 

"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."

"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man." 

"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart. 

You smile. Steve shakes his head. 

"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."

"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart. 

"And you don't push the cart."

You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven." 

"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?" 

"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle. 

You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.

“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”

“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”

You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you. 

“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”

You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.

“What?” you ask.

Steve shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”

“Steve, seriously. What is it?”

He shakes his head again. 

“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”

He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.

The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established. 

When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.

“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.

You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him. 

Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot. 

“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”

“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”

You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity. 

“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.

“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.

“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back. 

Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat. 

“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”

You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.

“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”

You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.

“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”

You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty. 

“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”

You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”

You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses. 

Now you know: tenderly. 

He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise. 

You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you. 

“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.

“Huh?”

“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”

You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.

“What?” he asks.

“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say. 

Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times. 

You hope you’ll lose track at some point.

[miyukisu]

On Camera .ᐟ

❤︎ | You just love teasing your best friend—even better now that he's frustrated and can only see you through a screen (2.1k wc) ╰ feat. narumi gen (kn8) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 1 | kinktober masterlist

tags - best friend! narumi, virgin! narumi, reader also works in the force, cybersex, mutual masturbation, so much dirty talk, flashing, nipple play (kinda), swearing

minors do not interact

You and Narumi Gen go way back to your trainee days. Much to everyone's surprise, you two became quick friends—really good friends at that. I mean, who would've thought?

There's you—a fiery little thing, loves to poke fun and tease her friends. Then, there's Narumi Gen—bit of an oddball. Truth be told, you two had almost nothing in common, except for the fact that you were both strong.

You, Narumi, and Mina led your trainee batch; everyone looked up to you. Mina respected the two of you. Narumi, of course, couldn't accept that there was someone tailgating him at his position at the top. And you—who admired Narumi quite a lot. Although, that admiration came in the form of endless teasing. It wasn't just Narumi who was annoyed, but the rest of your fellow trainees as well. They were forced to be a witness of your 'disgusting and coy display of affection.'

Narumi said he hated it. He hated how strong you were and how you were always up in his business. Yet, you two were attached at the hip. It was a paradox, but neither of you addressed it. That was until you both graduated and got assigned at different bases which were hours apart.

Your feelings for each other were thrown into disarray. But that didn't mean you lost all correspondence.

────────────

"You look like shit."

Narumi groans from the other end of your video call. You were teasing him, but it was partially true—his eyes were sunken and a deep frown persisted on his face.

He glares intensely at you. "You wouldn't understand the burdens of the strongest kaiju killer, would you?"

His arrogance was only met by a laugh. That same laugh was one he despised, but sought after because... it just felt right. There were many things in his head that made no sense and the common denominator was you. "Why do you have to mess up my mind?" he'd often think, especially on his sleepless nights.

Narumi leans back in his chair, a pensive sigh escaping his dried lips. "But y'know... I've really been frustrated lately..." he admits.

It was a rare show of vulnerability. Most of the time, he's too prideful to admit his true feelings, but after knowing you for so long, he has learned to let his walls down sometimes. At the very least—you were nice enough to pause the teasing when it gets serious.

"Overworked huh?" you ask.

He turns his chair to face you again, tilting his head and letting out another fatigued breath. "That and life is just so BORING," he exclaims. You raise an eyebrow, anticipating a hissy fit which wasn't uncommon for this guy.

"I feel like all I do is work and work... and work. God, even the younger members of this base have more fun than I do."

A smirk crosses your lips, amused that you predicted his impending meltdown. "What? Like they don't deserve it?"

"Duh! I'm out here busting my ass off—killing kaiju left and right—and these kids are the ones having a social life?"

"When did you care about being social, Mr. Shut-in?"

He clicks his tongue. "Okay, first of all, fuck you. Second, I don't care about social relations. I am WAY above that, okay? I don't care about what they do. They can fuck like rabbits in the dorms for all I care but—"

Narumi was cut off by the sound of your boisterous laughter. As much as you tried to keep the serious facade, it was impossible... especially after figuring out his true cause of distress.

"Oh my God... don't tell me you're mad because the younger soldiers are getting more action than you?"

His face felt warm all over. Narumi didn't mean to blurt that out, but envy had been consuming him for the past few days after he had heard some younger members of the base... getting dirty in one of the dorms.

Narumi was the strongest soldier—admired and idolized by many. Yet, here he was—a raging virgin with a seemingly unreciprocated crush on you. Yes, you, but he'd rather die than admit it to your face.

He turned to look away, stunned into silence by his own actions. He was unsure of how to salvage his reputation at the moment. "That's not what I meant..."

All the arrogance had faded from his voice—replaced by a uncharacteristic softness as a result of embarrassing himself.

"Oh c'mon. There's nothing embarrassing about that. We're only human; we can feel those things, y'know?"

"Even you?" he counters.

An uneasy smile spreads across your face. "Yeah... even me."

But the look on his face says that he isn't convinced. In his head he's thinking about how impossible that is considering how attractive you are. You had to be lying about being in the same boat as him.

Though you weren't sure why you wanted him to believe you.

"I'm serious. Look, I'm in a base far away from all the people I know and the guy here aren't exactly my... cup of tea," you added.

With that, your best friend's face seemed to lighten up a bit. Part of him was glad that even someone as hot as you was in the same predicament as him, but mostly because the person he likes isn't being taken by anyone else.

As high and mighty he sees himself, he always thought himself unworthy of you. The simple fact that you were unclaimed gave him a sliver of hope.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. The poor guy was confused and it was clear as day. You felt mostly responsible for it. As you prepared to say something, you crossed your arms—pushing your boobs up in the process. Wearing a tank top suddenly made you conscious of your body.

An intrusive thought invaded your brain. It was perhaps the result of you wanting to tease him, his frustration, and you being secretly pent up as well. It was a futile attempt to shake off that thought as it kept bombarding you.

You were able to hold it in, until you couldn't.

"Hey... Gen?"

"What?" he says, sounding a bit dejected by his circumstances.

You stifled a smile, knowing that he'd be thrown off by it. "Can you turn around? I wanna show you a surprise."

He raises an eyebrow, skeptical of whatever you have up your sleeve. Throughout your years together, he has learned to take your so-called sincerity with a grain of salt. But his affection towards you makes him abandon all rational thought.

"Okay?" he says, turning around in his swivel chair.

You let out a breath—giving yourself a quick mental pep talk. You quickly lifted your top, thrilled and anxious of the risk at the same time.

It was now or never. "Okay, you can look now."

Narumi quickly turns in his seat, eyes widening upon seeing a pair of tits—your tits—on his screen. He frantically looked away, covering his eyes with his hands—though he wasn't doing a good job at it.

"H-hey! What the fuck? Put those away!"

His words betrayed his actions; you could see him peeking through his fingers. You figured you were at a point of no return, so you did the only appropriate thing: squishing your boobs together for him.

Seeing your boldness, he let his hand fall—finally admiring what you displayed for him. "Seriously... what are you doing?"

"We're both frustrated, aren't we?" you ask as if your situation was ordinary.

"So what? I stare at your tits?"

"Dumbass. Is that all you do when you're frustrated? Stare at shit?"

He rolls his eyes, trying to act blasé, but there was a growing tent in his pants. "No... well, I guess I... jack off... sometimes..."

As if saying 'sometimes' softens the blow of his words.

You let go of your tits and lean back into your chair. It was entertaining—how his eyes never seem to leave your chest. Almost as if he were entranced by it.

His body moved on its own, palming the growing erection under his sweats. It ached; it was painful and it wanted relief.

With the angle of the camera, you couldn't really see him pull his cock out from under the desk, but you just knew. The momentary o-face he made presumably when the cold air of his room hit the warm and sensitive skin of his cock was a dead giveaway.

All shame was thrown out the window as he started to slowly fist his cock at the sight he could only dream of. It almost felt unreal to him that all of this was happening—you willingly showing off your tits while he jacked off and you watched.

It was exhilarating in all the best ways.

But he wasn't the only one excited. This all started because you were frustrated too. Your eyes were fixed on his face. Unlike him—who had visuals—all you could go off on was the fact that you were doing something so dirty.

A hand slipped under your shorts and beneath your panties. It was damp, of course it was. You slowly rubbed the pad of your finger against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Narumi must've noticed your own movements as well because he let out a low groan. "Fuck... that's hot."

You huff your chest out with a smirk. "Bet you're so hard right now huh?"

"Like you're not a fucking waterfall down there," he retorts.

The back and forth goes on while the two of you played with yourselves.

Eventually, the stimulation wasn't enough for you. Quickly, you pulled your hand out and popped your fingers into your mouth. He watched intently, mesmerized by you.

After sufficiently lubricating your digits, you snuck them back in and plunged two fingers into you. The pleasant intrusion had you throwing your head back against your chair and letting out a soft moan.

He rubbed himself faster than before. Narumi was desperately reaching his high, wanting to quell the ache in his cock.

"Play with your tits," he demanded.

You had heard him well enough before you got lost in the sensation. Your other hand made its way up to cup one of your breasts, slowly massaging it in a teasing manner. His jaw went slack at how easily you obeyed his orders.

The ego boost that he got while ordering around his subordinates isn't even on par with this at all.

Every time you flicked or tugged your nipple—he swore that his dick twitched. "Yeah... keep going. Are you rubbing your clit huh?"

"No..."

"Oh," he breathes, "Fucking yourself on your fingers then?"

"Y-yeah, but I can't reach deep enough," you whine.

He sucks in through his teeth. Narumi had never seen you so desperate before and awakened something primal in him.

"If that were me... you would've came minutes ago, wouldn't you?"

You nod, now wishing that it was his fingers making a mess out of you. But this was all you could get for now.

"Yeah... you're the strongest after all. You can do anything, right?"

"You fucking know it," he says almost breathlessly. Seeing that fucked out look on your face while praising him almost made him cum. But he wanted to last longer—to savor this moment which he wasn't sure if it would happen again.

"You gonna cum with me?" he asked.

He was close. Oh so painfully close. But he was a bit of a romantic in that he wanted the both of you to cum together.

You peel your back off your chair, shifting angles to coax out an orgasm and after a few moments, you do. The sensation flooded your senses, spreading warmth all throughout your body. You weren't sure if you came this hard because of having 0 action for so long or if it was because of how lewd you were with your best friend.

And as you moaned sweetly through your microphone, he let out hot ropes of cum and a breathless moan to match. He felt his abdomen cramping after unconsciously being stiff and on edge for so long.

Both of you let out labored breaths, trying to calm your racing heartbeats. It was only then your eyes met again. Though it seems like post nut clarity hit him too soon as he looked away with a bashful expression.

"Still frustrated, captain?" you teased.

He was glad you didn't call him that earlier, otherwise he would've came right on the spot. "Shut the fuck up... I am though."

"Greedy. That wasn't enough for you?"

"You mean seeing you play with yourself through a fucking monitor? Go figure."

You laugh once more and it was now mostly music to his ears. "Say—how about I visit you some time? Let me show you the real thing?"

"...Sure."

"For someone who was speaking so dirty earlier—you sure do get shy huh?"

"Don't you ever shut the fuck up?" he quips to which you laugh again.

The prospect of getting to hold you and feel you around his member was tantalizing. But for now, he'll have to deal with his cock hardening again.

©miyukisu do not repost/reupload/translate any of my works on other platforms

╰ author's note a short one... with no p in v... to start of the month

[strwbrryeyes]

𖦹°｡⋆ iwaizumi as a best friend

⟡ cw: fluff, friends to lovers, kinda sad towards the end, lmk if i missed anything

⟡ a/n: iwa would def be a helpful friend, he already keeps oikawa in line so why not suopport you? so sleepy

⟡ best friend series: hanamaki, matsukawa, oikawa, || masterlist

best friend iwaizumi who you met your second year of high school after you transferred and when he accidentally threw a ball at you while aiming for oikawa.

best friend iwaizumi who laughed when oikawa yelled at him for hitting his fangirl and you replied with "i dont even know who you are...i just wanted directions..."

best friend iwaizumi who you got closer to when he offered to walk you to class because now oikawa was sulking on the ground. turns out all three of you are in the same class!

best friend iwaizumi who you followed around like a lost puppy because you were too scared to walk around school by yourself (you have no sense of direction).

best friend iwaizumi who didn't mind that you followed him around because it was nice to have someone other than his headaches teammates around.

best friend iwaizumi who you quickly warned up to even though his demeanor was cool and collected. you just noticed that he had a resting bitch face and actually is a kind soul.

best friend iwaizumi who got teased by the other third years for having a fangirl of his own now.

best friend iwaizumi smacked all three of them and said that you weren't stupid enoguh to be anyone's fangirl.

best friend iwaizumi who helped you find a secluded area during every volleyball match you went to because oikawa's fangirls scared you and because he didn't want you to get squished.

best friend iwaizumi who made you workout with him on weekends after he noticed how lazy you are.

best friend iwaizumi who rewarded you with your favorite dessert after every cardio session since it was your least favorite.

best friend iwaizumi who constantly had to make sure you were doing what you were supposed to be doing in class instead of jsut doodling on his worksheets (not that he minded, he actually adored the doodles).

best friend iwaizumi who allowed only you to call him 'iwa-chan' after you heard oikawa call him that. it was cute coming from you, but not from oikawa. oikawa still got hit every time he said it.

best friend iwaizumi who realized his feelings for you when you were hanging out at his house and borrowed his volleyball jacket because you were cold. the thing practically drowned you but you looked so darn cute in it.

best friend iwaizumi who didn't say anything about it because he thought you thought of him like a brother.

best friend iwaizumi who was in a sappy mood when he got accepted into a school in california because it was his dream but he didn't want to say bye to you.

best friend iwaizumi who let you cry on his shoulder when he told you the news. he held his own tears back until you left because he felt like he needed to be strong for you.

best friend iwaizumi who told you he was in love with you during graduation.

best friend iwaizumi who finally cried in front of you when you said you loved him back.

best friend iwaizumi who is now boyfriend iwaizumi who had to convince you not to follow him to california because he wanted you to live your own life. no matter though, you guys still called/facetimed as often as you could.

[whisperofwonder]

Departures & Arrivals

Timeskip!Iwaizumi Hajime x reader (gender neutral)

POV: You are one of Iwaizumi's college classmates in California, and there's definitely something between you, but it takes two trips to the airport to figure out exactly what.

2k words | Slight angst with a happy ending

You navigate through the crowded lanes in front of the airport, finally coming to a stop in front of the correct gate. Hajime turns to you before reaching for the door handle.

"Thanks for dropping me off," He says for what's probably the fifth time. "I really appreciate it."

"Of course," You wave it off, "There's no way I'd let you pay the crazy prices for an uber. We're broke college students." You laugh, and he answers it with a smile. "You need me to help get your luggage?"

"No," He shakes his head, "I've got it. Don't bother getting out." You nod, and he finally opens the door as you pop the trunk. You roll the window down as he turns for the door, pulling his suitcase behind him.

"Have a good time back home!" You call out. "Send lots of pictures!" He turns back and lifts his hand in a wave.

"Of course I will," He promises, flashing you one last smile before he turns to go. You watch his retreating back for a few moments before rolling the window back up and putting your car in drive.

It's bittersweet, watching him leave. You know he's been looking forward to going back home for a few weeks this summer, and that he's been feeling a little more homesick than he'll admit. Still, your life is going to feel just a little bit emptier without him around.

You sigh, turning the music up a few notches as you pull onto the highway. You can't get the evening a few weeks ago out of your head.

The two of you had been dancing around it for months. Your friends recognized it in the mildly flirtatious back-and-forth, the way you always ended up sitting with your shoulders touching, and that you somehow found a way to spend nearly every weekend together. You recognized it in the tug in your middle that you felt whenever he was around, in the strange certainty starting the moment you met him that this was someone you've known all your life. Someone you connected with on a level you didn't even realize existed. You'd never felt this way before.

"Hajime, I really like you!" You'd finally blurted out. You aren't sure if that means exactly the same thing in Japan as it does to you, but judging by the look on his face, you can only assume it does. For a few moments, he only looked at you, different emotions playing across his face, then closed his eyes with a heavy sigh.

"I can't," He finally said, sharply, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, that was - I mean -" He paused, and you watched him parsing the English together in his head, heart falling into the pit of your stomach. "I can't do that to you." He said more softly. "I - I've thought about it," He admits. "But I don't want something... casual." He finally settled on the word. You're left reeling, because he's admitted to having feelings for you and turned you down in the same breath.

"And after I graduate, I know I'm going back to Japan," He continued, "And I can't ask you to deal with whatever that involves. I can't ask you to choose between me and the rest of your life. So I think it's better if we just stay friends." He paused. "Because I do want to be your friend. I think you're pretty great," He added with a small, sad smile.

Even turning you down, he's the nicest guy you've ever known. "Okay," Is all you could say, softly, pasting on a brave smile. "Friends, then."

It's not as though you haven't considered what it would mean, being in a relationship with him. You do have a life here in the U.S., and a family, but you're confident in knowing that it's something that will always be here, waiting for you, no matter where life takes you. With your major, you know you could find work anywhere. Even before meeting Hajime, you'd had dreams of living abroad. Japan doesn't sound like such a bad choice.

You haven't told him this, not in so many words. You don't want him to think this is something you're saying just to be with him. The future is a big thing to promise on what might turn into a few dates before you decide to go your separate ways. Still - if he was open to it, you'd be willing to try.

The next morning, you wake up to a message letting you know he'd arrived safely, shortly followed by a photo of the Sendai airport. You smile at your phone, telling him you're glad that he made it home.

The following days are punctuated by photos and messages, painting you a picture of a place called Miyagi - somewhere you'd had no reason to know existed until you'd met a certain dark-haired sports-science major. Suddenly, it seems like a very important place indeed.

You reciprocate, sharing snapshots of your hometown, places you can't help thinking you'd love to share with him in person. As time passes, the messages grow more and more frequent, and longer as you try to cram exactly how much you miss him between the words without admitting as much.

One morning, you've just poured yourself a cup of coffee and curled up on the sofa to enjoy it when your phone rings. To your surprise, Hajime's name shows up on the screen.

"Hello?" You answer hesitantly, a little worried at first that something might be wrong.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?" Even across the phone line, the sound of his worried voice is a welcome sound.

"No," You laugh softly, "I just poured my coffee." You lift the mug to your lips and take a sip.

"Good," He says in a huff of relief. "Time zones are weird."

"They are," You agree with a chuckle. "So, what's up?"

"I couldn't sleep, and - I thought I'd call you. Texting isn't quite the same," He admits. You picture him, maybe sitting cross-legged on the bed in his childhood bedroom, and you press your smile to the rim of your coffee mug.

"No," You agree. "It's not." You haven't ever really talked on the phone with him before. You saw him so often, you hadn't ever felt the need to, but this is nice. "How is it being back in Japan?"

"It's been really great," He says quickly. "Seeing my parents and my friends again has been nice. In a way, it almost feels like I never left. But is it weird that I also kind of miss California?"

"No," You say softly, biting back the fact that you miss him. "California misses you, too," You say more lightly, drawing out a warm chuckle from him that you feel in the pit of your stomach.

"What about you?" He asks then, "Anything exciting going on?"

You shift to a more comfortable position, hugging a throw pillow to your middle and taking a breath. You hadn't known how to share this with him via text. "Well, I just heard back from this company in Norway. They're really interested in having me work for them, starting with an internship this fall. I could transfer to a university there to finish my degree."

"Oh," He says quietly, and you hum in response. "That's great!" His voice brightens, but it sounds fake even through the phone. "So... you would move to Norway?"

"Yeah, I would," You confirm. "If I decide to accept," You add. "I think living abroad would be exciting." You aren't dropping any hints, you tell yourself. Just stating the facts. A year ago, Norway would have done just as well as Japan, or any country, really. A year ago, you probably would have already accepted this opportunity by now.

"That sounds like a great opportunity," He says, "I'm happy for you."

Are you really? You want to ask, but you don't.

"Thanks," you say instead, and find an excuse to move on to another topic. You chat about his travels in Japan with his friends, and your recent trip up the California coast. By the time the conversation winds down, things feel almost normal between the two of you again.

"I should let you get to sleep," You say finally, after he stifles yet another yawn.

"Yeah," He says reluctantly, "You're probably right." He pauses. "One last thing," He adds. "You can totally say no, but would you mind picking me up at the airport when I get back? My flight gets in on August 9, at 4pm. I can always ask Adam to do it if you-"

"I'll be there," You say quickly, before he can finish. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay," You can hear the smile in his voice. "Thanks."

For a few moments after you hang up, you don't move from the couch. Talking to him again, hearing his voice, it stirred up everything you'd been trying so hard to keep at bay.

As the days pass, your correspondence is relegated to shorter messages and quick photos. Things between you feel just a little more stilted than before. Slowly, you're beginning to accept the truth, something you'd been trying so hard to ignore.

I can't just be your friend. You've practiced it over and over in your head. It's going to hurt to say, but you can't go on like this. If Hajime doesn't want to try to make a relationship work - and you can't blame him if he doesn't - then it will be better for both of you if you don't see each other anymore. You even have your perfect escape route - Norway. You tell yourself you'll wait to give them your final answer until after August 9.

Driving to the airport, the gnawing pit in your stomach grows with every mile. This may be one of the last times you see him. You're terrified that you'll chicken out before you can even give your carefully planned speech. You're terrified it can only lead to goodbye. You can't even allow yourself a sliver of hope, because it will only hurt that much more in the end.

Waiting in the lineup of cars, you watch the streams of people passing by for a familiar face. Craning your neck, you finally catch sight of him stepping through the doors, and you can tell the moment he spots you, because a smile breaks across his face. You clench your fist to strengthen your resolve.

Getting out of your car, you move to the trunk, making sure there's plenty of space. It looks like he's returned with an extra suitcase. When he finally approaches the car, only a few feet from you, you look up at him again. "Welcome back!" You say, attempting to put as much cheer in your voice as possible.

He doesn't answer, and instead lets go of his suitcases and strides purposefully through the remaining space between you. Before you can react, his lips are on yours, a hand at the back of your neck to keep you steady. You let out a small, surprised sound before you return the kiss automatically, fingers bunching into the material of his t-shirt as if to prove to yourself that he's really here in front of you - really kissing you like he means it.

When he finally pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and he's breathing heavily. "I want to see where this goes," He says breathlessly. "I want to be with you, if you'll have me?" What a silly question, as if the way you'd shamelessly pressed back into his kiss hadn't been answer enough. You can't help but smile back.

"Yes," You say quickly, eyes searching his face, taking in very part of him.

"I know it won't be easy," He adds, "And I know we'll have to be long distance, at least for a little, but I want to try. I want to put in the work, because I know it will be worth it."

"Yes!" You say again, giddy laughter bubbling up, "I'm ready," You nod, "I'm ready to do whatever it takes. To be with you." Your smile feels like it's splitting your face in half.

There are long conversations ahead. There's so much to discuss, and so much to prepare for. It won't all be easy. For now, though, Hajime pulls you close and kisses you again, the press of his lips assuring you that, no matter what, it will be worth it.

[zweiginator]

What if divorced!art gets dragged to a club one weekend by his foundation-buddies and he obviously doesn’t want to but he forces himself and then it turns out that escort!reader is also there with her friends and they see each other outside of «work» for the first time… And her friends doesn’t know about her escorting so maybe they recognize him and maybe she goes to talk to him because her friends says she should «flirt more»🤭 And then ofc he fucks her in the dirty club bathroom

divorced!art upset because he hasn't seen you in weeks. everything has been busy since he hit the ground running with tennis again. practice after practice, signing sponsorship deals, galas and charity fundraising. and you had been busy too. art didn't know this, but you're a student as well. you didn't tell him not because you didn't want to share your life with him, but because it made you feel juvenile. of course, it's university and you're almost finished with your degree after five and a half years instead of the usual four--but you still feel dumb talking about that part of your life with him. for you to bitch about group projects and essays about political science while art is upset about custody battles and petty divorce politics--it feels trivial.

but your friends want to celebrate the semester being freshly over. just a few more summer classes for you and you will finally graduate. you'll finally get to hang up your hat and say goodbye to escorting. to that taboo little secret that's been dragging your eyes into sunken purple holes for the past fourteen months.

and your friends don't know, of course. it's impossible to explain to a group of girls whose parents pay for tuition and books and groceries. gas, clothes and even the designer heels they wear to the club they're standing in right now--that you need to do this. for money. to survive.

no, it isn't ideal. but this is the real fucking world and sex sells.

so they think you're prudish. they've never seen you have a boyfriend or flirt because that's your job every other day of the week. to pretend to be in love. to fuck lonely assholes and pretend to care about their lives. to believe them when they say they aren't a bad husband. that men have needs.

they urge you to flirt with men at the bar. but like always, you're just not interested. and all the men in this shitty tavern-bar-turned-college-club are all the same. middle-aged men who shoved their wedding bands in their back pockets to pick up pussy from a doe-eyed girl in her twenties.

none of them are remotely attractive. and you're thanking your lucky stars that you don't recognize a single one of them.

your friend taps on your shoulder. "there's one hot guy here. you may recognize him. he's kinda famous."

you down the rest of your drink. "oh really? i doubt i'd be interested."

but she points to a man leaning against the bar way off in the corner. sad eyes and salt and pepper hair that was once dirty blond; you've seen his baby pictures. he's tall and in love with you and you with him and you could strangle him right now because he hasn't returned your calls or texts in over five days.

"art donaldson." your other friend sighs. "he's a tennis player and i'd fuck him if i didnt have a boyfriend."

it's then that art turns around. likely feels the eyes of six girls burning into the back of his skull. he's holding a beer bottle and he looks forlorn, his typical woe is me demeanor that makes him so fucking attractive to you. lights up that neanderthal part of your brain that makes you want to fix the unfixable.

and then he smiles. it makes you blush and your friends, not knowing the tendrils of your history together that have now become rooted in the ground beneath you, tell you to go for it.

"he's staring right at you."

you know that. art knows not to make it clear he knows you; it would open up that whole can of worms.

so he waits for you to come to him and you pretend to be nervous which isn't that hard because you are already.

when you get to him, he whispers in your ear.

"they don't know about your job, im assuming?" he wants to wrap his arms around your waist but he refrains.

"they don't. but they know you, and they're very fond of you. they want me to flirt more."

art flags down the bartender. he gets you a gin and tonic, remembering how you liked the one he made for you that first night at his hotel room. you were just trying to make him feel better.

"well im glad im the lucky man." he sits down on a stool and hooks his leg around the stool next to him to bring it closer. he motions for you to sit and your friends are all staring at you but pretending they aren't.

"me too. although i don't know how much you deserve it." you take a sip. "given how you haven't responded to my calls in awhile."

art takes your drink from your hand, sets it down. he rests his hand on your lower back.

"im sorry honey. i haven't been meaning to be an asshole. there's a lot going on with tennis and everything."

you run a hand through his hair. "i get it." you feign a frown. "you just may have to make it up to me." and when you uncross your legs, art can see your thong. he tenses his jaw.

"i do need to make it up to you, don't i?" he takes a swig from his beer. "i'll tell you what." he glances around, at the bathroom door swinging open. "why don't i go to the bathroom to freshen up and you come check on me in a few minutes, yeah?"

he's so close you can smell the beer on his breath. you nod and he goes toward the bathroom.

your friends want to come over and ask you all about it, but then you're knocking on the bathroom door with your special knock. the one that only you and art know.

he pulls you inside, and the bathroom is dingy with a flickering light and graffiti on the walls. drawings of dicks and crude words but art sits on the toilet seat.

"c'mere." he reaches out to you and you go to him. a pavlovian response that makes you so fucking wet to be near him. to be on his lap like you're supposed to be. he kisses you like he missed you because he has. he's not supposed to. his lips trail wet, hot kisses up your throat and he's greedier than usual. dragging your pussy over his throbbing erection. he's only wearing his briefs on his bottom half and you tug at his shirt because you want to see all of him. feel all of him. he does the same to you. panting into your mouth because his cock rests between your folds. nudges against your clit as you grind on him.

"fuckin' ruined pussy for me." he throws his head back and you grab his jaw to kiss him. sloppy and disgusting but you love the taste of him. how your lipstick melds into his saliva. drips down his neck like you're a vampire taking him for everything he fucking has.

"yeah?" you rake your nails down his chest and take his cock out. it's bare against your pussy, your panties pushed to the side.

"nothing turns me on anymore. nothing gets me off. only you. that tight fucking cunt."

he never talks like this. so crude. but you love drawing it out of him. milking those dirty words as you stroke his heavy cock for him. people bang on the bathroom door but neither of you fucking care.

you sink down on him. you do it all at once. you're addicted to how his hips spasm and his eyes roll back and he lets a strangled moan-groan hybrid escape him. he holds onto the flesh of your ass as you fuck him.

the porcelain of the toilet creaks unsteady below you and you're completely on top of him, your feet behind you as you fuck him harder and harder. but he asks for more because he wants you more.

"fuck me--fuck me--" he repeats it over and over. guides you up and down and up and down his cock from base to tip. "your pussy was fucking made for me. i need it, i need it--"

his mouth hangs open and you can't believe he's yours like this. you want him to cum but then again you don't because then he can't be inside you anymore. and that's precisely where you want him.

his jaw is tense and his neck pulses with his heartbeat as he presses his forehead to yours.

"i want you--" a moan. "to hit me. i want you to fucking claim me."

so you smack him, and his arms wrap tight against your waist because he's cumming and he wants it to stay like this forever. but if it can only be a few more minutes, that will do too.

[skrrts]

just like that (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x mingi & gn!reader & ex!yunho ✧ all three are university students close to graduation ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, exes to friends, friends to lovers, first kiss ✧ word count: 6,9k ✧ warnings: food/eating, woosan joke

You first met Yunho and his best friend at university, and when you and Yunho started dating, the three of you soon became inseparable. Even after the breakup, things didn't really change, but lately, Mingi seems a little more clumsy around you, and Yunho is quite eager to encourage some time alone between the two of you.

a/n: i just wanted to write something soft for this trope without any tension. just 3 silly university students trusting and supporting one another. also, i noticed that best!friend yunho is something i really like writing, he's just the best but don't worry, he might find love in the strangest of places himself.

Summer — the time for weeks of freedom without worrying about project deadlines and exams, or a chance to make some money to make your final year more memorable. It seemed strange how quickly time had flown by. Before you knew it, only two semesters remained until graduation. One year before you were expected to have it all figured out, with the rest of your life ahead and the comfortable years behind you.

You didn’t see it that way, no matter how much your parents urged you to plan for the next decade when you weren’t even ready to part with this very moment. University had been a wild time, not only because you switched majors, made many new friends, and had your first boyfriend. It was a time for you to just be, shaking off the awkwardness of high school and becoming your own person far from home.

It wasn’t an easy time, but looking back now, you were thankful for the experiences and the special people now in your life — one of them being Jeong Yunho.

It had been a cliché start: the cute boy sitting near you in the local library. You exchanged little glances that later turned into small, silly notes left in the books when one of you went to buy a bottle of water or pick up another book. Your first date was a walk through the park with milkshakes in hand, sharing stories about childhood, books, and nature.

You had never been in love before — not really. Sure, there were those high school relationships that didn’t last longer than a few weeks and were only meant to fit in. Everyone dated someone, so you had to as well.

Yunho made you feel what love was supposed to for the first time: he was always there without asking you to give up your free time. He helped you with projects and studying while ensuring you took breaks you’d have otherwise skipped. He even taught you how to properly take photos, with small weekend trips to nearby places.

More than once, the two of you were accompanied by Mingi, Yunho’s childhood and best friend. The two of them were always together if he wasn’t with you, and the deep level of trust between them was something you admired.

Yunho was always there, not only to support Mingi in the same ways he did with you but also as a mental aid during moments when someone who seemed as confident as Mingi struggled a little.

You loved spending time with both of them: Yunho, who was gentle and quick to understand, and Mingi, who was reckless and curious, always up for some nonsense but yearning for a bit of attention. It wasn’t rare for the two of you to tug him into the middle when watching Netflix horror movies because it was a little too intense, or he had a bad day. All of that felt natural, and within the year and a half you dated, people got used to the sight of the couple and the best friend showing up together at almost all events.

The day Yunho and you broke up, most people couldn’t believe it. In their eyes, there had never been any indicator of struggle or conflict because there was none. Nobody but the two of you understood it. When you were honest with yourselves, you quickly realized that after some time, you felt more like friends than lovers.

Sometimes, crushes were fleeting, and it seemed you made a better match as friends rather than lovers. Because it was a mutual agreement, nothing really changed, except for the absence of handholding and kisses. In fact, the friendship may have grown even stronger.

Unlike you, Mingi and Yunho didn’t live in a dorm but rented a small apartment about half an hour off campus. It was located in a building with a small convenience store and owned by a sweet lady who always complimented Yunho for his good manners. It was small; the two shared one bedroom, and there was only so much space, but you loved how comfortable and homely it felt with all the little details unique to the best friends, unlike a dorm with its limitations.

A small breeze from the window made the heat of the day a little more bearable. Mingi was quietly playing a playlist he made the other day while browsing on his phone, the gentle typing of Yunho’s keyboard added to the sound while you were simply hanging with your head forward off the couch, playing with your outdated Nintendo DS. It was difficult to tell whether you were too sentimentally connected to all those old games or refused to invest so much in a Switch. Maybe you were still waiting for your parents to change their minds about you being too old to play and gift you one for a special occasion.

“Did you read Hongjoong’s email about the graduation hoodies?” Yunho’s voice disturbed the silence and made you look up, a small sigh escaping as Link was overrun by evil little mushrooms.

It seemed like a good excuse to sit up, brushing back your hair as you opened the bottle to take the last few gulps of water, regretting you didn’t buy another one before coming upstairs.

“The design is really cool, a little flashy, but that makes sense considering how an art major designed them,” you hummed, remembering the unique design and choice of colors. Hongjoong graduated recently, but he had taken it upon himself to help the next round come up with a unique piece of clothing they’d always have to remember their time as students.

“Isn’t it a little too early?” Mingi muttered. “I mean, it’s still an entire year and quite a bit of money. I get it’s like a unique piece, never to be reproduced, but what if one of us doesn’t make it? Maybe we have to take another semester because we failed all important exams!”

Yunho frowned but there was a small smile on his lips: “Mingi, except for the one class you didn’t care for and which isn’t even required for your graduation, your grades have been really good and stable in the past two semesters. There’s no reason why you wouldn’t graduate with us.”

You pushed yourself up, walking over to his bed, tilting your head: “Exactly, there is no way we would let you fail any of them anyway, idiot. Did you forget? We all agreed once we were done, no matter what our families said, we’d go on this road trip together for one month!”

You grinned, arms crossed as you spoke of it fondly, the tickling sensation of excitement rushing through your body as you thought about it. Yunho came up with the idea when you planned one of your little weekend trips together, how it would be a sweet treat after all the work and stress this last year would bring. Maybe it was also a proper way to say goodbye to this part of your life.

You hadn’t decided yet, but there was a consideration of maybe moving abroad for a little, to see the world. Then, you couldn’t deny the idea of moving to the same city as your two friends and remaining close to your family was just as good.

“How could I forget? You forced me to practice setting up tents with you the other day,” he stuck out his tongue, leading you to grin.

“Well, that was part of the project and you said you’d help me in return for making that PowerPoint for you. Also, it’s a mandatory skill to know how to set up a tent. Think of all the times you will need it: road trips, music festivals, maybe you will be an uncle and your nephew wants to go camping in the garden.”

Yunho chuckled: “Y/N isn’t wrong. Now, how about the three of us worry a little less? Just make the order with the size and number you want. Hongjoong will leave for Tokyo soon and it makes sense he wants to get this done before, especially since production takes several months anyway.”

The tallest closed his notebook and stood up, stretching carefully. For a moment, he glanced over at the two of you like there was something else he wanted to say, but his eyes lingered on Mingi’s face, noticing how it was a little redder than usual and how his gaze was a little too long at you.

But you didn’t notice because you were busy rambling ahead, trying to encourage Mingi and reminding him how you believed in him. There was no way one of you would be left behind; you’d graduate together.

“Hey, Y/N. Mingi and I wanted to binge-watch this show together, you know the one we saw in the trailer? Want to join us?” Yunho asked casually, already busy collecting his laundry. As neat as he was with everything else, the home of the two boys was a bit of a mess at times, hinting they often spent little time there and left in a rush.

You blinked, turning around to him, index finger tapping against your cheek as you tried to recall what show he was talking about. Shared movie nights were quite common and there were too many releases to keep track of all of them. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. You had no other plans and the heat wasn’t too inviting to forcefully spend the evening outside either.

“Sure, sounds good. Do you want me to bring anything?” you stretched a little and started to shove your stuff back into your backpack. If you were going for a movie night, you’d likely stay over and it was nicer to wash up before and get some other things.

Yunho seemed to think about it: “Hm, I believe we have everything we need and besides, we live above a convenience store. But maybe you could pick up dinner on the way? I’d make an order at our usual place and you just have to pick it up.”

As always, Yunho had everything planned and you nodded: “Sure thing! Sounds like we are set up for the night. Then, I will head back to the dorm for a little while, take a shower, and pick up some clothes. I also have to call my mom; she wanted to tell me about this wedding.”

Mingi rolled over to sit up: “My mom likes to do that too and then she asks me what I think about it, and here I am, just struggling to decide over a hoodie.”

The three of you chuckled, and you pulled the bag over your shoulder, placing the sunglasses on your nose: “I will be going then.”

Yunho stopped, flashing you one of his kind smiles: “Walk safely then. Mingi will accompany you to the crossroad. Looking forward to tonight.”

“I will? Why?” Mingi asked now, looking confused at his best friend who threw a dirty shirt at him, making the younger jump and let out a soft, embarrassed noise.

“Ewh! WHY?” His cheeks were flushed red and it was kind of cute how his grown-out hair looked a little messy with the glasses slipped down on his nose.

“Because we need new washing powder thanks to a certain somebody never bothering to get any after using the last of it for his laundry,” Yunho called out, a small grin on his lips as he threw the last piece of clothing in a basket.

Mingi didn’t seem too convinced, almost like he was trying to figure out just what his best friend was up to, but he gave in with a deep sigh, shoulders hanging down a little. “All right, I shall go and melt out there. If I do not come back, you know why.”

You couldn’t hide the soft laugh as you watched the two of them banter like that: “I will wait outside then, take your time. See you later, Yuyu.”

It was a nickname you had given him when the two of you dated but it had become such a habit, you just kept using it even after the breakup several months ago but he didn't mind it. Mingi seemed a little lost when he pulled on his sneakers and grabbed a jacket, only to remember it was hot outside and he wouldn’t need it.

When he joined you, he was trying to fix his hair but gave up on it the moment a small blow of wind faked some refreshment. “Can’t believe that guy kicked me out just for some washing powder,” he mumbled.

“You know him, he just likes to be prepared for everything,” you gave him a playful shove. After that, the two of you walked in silence for a little while.

With Mingi, that was never a bad thing as you learned quickly how he either was lost in his own thoughts, sometimes daydreaming, or there were days when he couldn’t stop talking, where his thoughts seemed to be as busy as those of an artist and his urge to share was sweet. You liked to listen to his thoughts, although you did not always manage to follow all of them. Regarding your career paths, you picked something more practical and straightforward like Yunho.

“Hey, Y/N,” he only quickly glanced at you before pretending that something on the way had caught his attention.

“Hm?” you looked over at him, head tilted in curiosity, paying attention to how his hand was gently rubbing the back of his neck, words suddenly not coming easily anymore.

“Did you ever regret breaking up with Yunho?” the question was rushed now like he was scared he wouldn’t ask it otherwise, but it certainly wasn’t one you’d have expected.

Back then, Yunho had a long conversation with Mingi, he told you that. The younger was surprised but also worried: the older was his best friend and naturally, he should be supportive of him, but there was also you now, somebody important to him. He was scared to lose that bond and the fun time you shared. Yunho had explained everything, promised you’d be fine, and you had done the same. Still, there were times when it seemed Mingi was worried, or at least, you picked it up as such.

You shook your head slowly: “No. I think it was for the best, you know? I really liked having Yunho as my boyfriend but now, looking at how things went after we broke up, I think we were both right because it barely feels any different. That shows me we have been perfect friends for one another more than lovers.”

Mingi seemed to consider your answer before speaking again: “So it would be fine with you if Yu starts to date again?”

The number of questions was a little unusual but you knew how much Mingi struggled now that the final year was approaching. The idea of things changing was always hard for him once he was comfortable with a situation. Something like that was what Yunho warned you about right at the beginning, that you should tell him if you’d get overwhelmed by Mingi seeking comfort at times. You never were.

“Well, of course not. We are friends and I want him to be happy. Sure, I worry a little about how the next partner feels. I know we are more the exception, it is rare for exes to be able to be such good friends and even for those who are, their partners can have that level of distrust.”

It had come to your mind but you decided not to worry about something you’d not have any control over. You stretched your arms comfortably up in the air: “It’s Yuyu, I am sure he will find somebody that’s like him and you don’t have to worry about it.”

Mingi nodded and it seemed, while there was a hint of uncertainty on his handsome features, he could live with the answer.

When the store Mingi was aiming for slowly appeared, it seemed as if something changed and he was walking a little behind you. By now, you were checking your phone for the earliest bus in the morning since you promised to visit another friend nearby.

“So… I am not that bad looking, am I?”

Mingi’s question took you by surprise once more, but this time, you found yourself blinking, a hint of red accompanying it as you turned around and he was looking at you.

Song Mingi was too often overlooked because in lectures, he liked to dress comfortably with oversized shirts and comfy jeans, his hair often a mess unlike all the times the three of you went out to bars or clubs. Then, gazes turned around for the tall and handsome student with his plump lips and the way the tight tank tops complimented his body, and his hair styled back let you see his face properly.

Mingi always said he didn’t have one-night stands or dates because he needed somebody who loved both. In fact, it had been a drunk confession on a weekend when Yunho visited his family it had just been the two of you, a joke of yours that he should get laid going wrong.

“Of course not,” you leaned forward, giving him a proper look up and down, thinking it surely was okay with the two of you being friends.

“You are hot, you have so many unique features: your lips, those little moles, and the way your eyes sparkle when you get excited.”

Mingi’s face openly brightened up and he was about to say something when a loud noise interrupted the two of you.

“Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN,” Wooyoung screamed, an arm curled around San’s thin waist when the two stopped on their motorbike. The two of you often ended up working on projects together as for some reason, you shared almost half of your lectures with Wooyoung.

“What’s up, Jung?”

You joked and he pulled the helmet up, grinning.

“We are throwing a party tonight, wanna come? You can bring your two boyfriends.” Wooyoung teased, resulting in you rolling your eyes, he loved to pull the joke.

“Funny for you to say when everyone assumes you and your best friends are a little more on the benefit side.”

San gave his best friend a shove who struggled not to fall off and rolled his eyes dramatically: “You two really do not have any humor. Anyway, sincere invitation. Lots of people will come so if you change your mind, just text me.” He held onto San again and they disappeared down the road.

“Weirdo,” you laughed and looked back at Mingi. He was staring at you before awkwardly rubbing a hand over his neck: “Ah, I should get that stuff for the washing machine. I’ll see you later for the movies.”

You smiled, not thinking too much about it: “I will hurry to get ready, see you soon!”

Mingi nodded, more to himself than to you, and you could see him stumble, almost falling over one of the outdoor baskets as he cursed and disappeared inside. He always had been a little clumsy but recently it started to pile up a bit. It was kind of cute.

“I bought four packages. If that isn’t enough for at least three months…” Mingi blurted out as he unlocked the door and stepped inside, but stopped when he saw Yunho all dressed up and ready to leave. He dropped the bag with the boxes and blinked, pointing over his shoulder.

“Why do you look like that?”

His best friend looked up, smiling. “Ah! My brother just gave me a call, asking if I could come over and help him with some stuff. We haven’t really seen each other in weeks, and with summer just starting, I figured it would be okay.”

“But Y/N is coming over for the TV series soon, and I was excited for us to do it together.” Disappointment was written all over Mingi’s face now, but his best friend managed to hide how that expression always made feel him a little guilty.

“I promise, we will do it next time. We still have all summer and an entire year to meet up like that all the time. I already ordered the food and it’s paid for. You always still have an empty stomach by the time we are done, so just eat my portion too and make sure to brush your teeth properly afterward.”

The younger made a face. “Hey, I’m not an elementary kid anymore!” Yunho was always there, looking out for him, and there were times when Mingi was scared of what it would be like once he was supposed to be a proper adult, all on his own, living in an apartment without him. Not that he could admit it — he was in his early 20s and everyone suddenly wanted him to act on it, have it all figured out, and be proper.

Yunho stopped and stood in front of his best friend. They were almost equal in height, but the light-haired one eventually outgrew Mingi by an inch or two.

“I will always worry about you because you think too much and care too little about yourself,” Yunho smiled fondly at him, ruffling through his best friend’s hair, which elicited another displeased noise from Mingi, who was confused about what was going on.

“Do you still have the plushie? The one Hongjoong made for his school project when we were in our first year?” Yunho suddenly asked.

Mingi blinked before turning around and walking over to his small part of the wardrobe. He went down on his knees, pulling down one of the storage boxes until he found the yellow duck. Honestly, he had asked for a chicken when Hongjoong said he had to sew animals and would gift them each after receiving a grade. When Mingi had seen the duck for the first time, he pouted, and since then, Yunho wouldn’t stop teasing him about how they looked alike, so he ended up hiding it.

“This one?” he lifted it up, showing it to Yunho, and his best friend nodded.

“Mhm, you should gift it to Y/N. It would fit perfectly with the rest of the plushie collection.”

That was right — you collected plushies. It was cute because it wasn’t something Mingi expected when he first met you riding on a skateboard while reading a thriller novel the day Yunho introduced you to each other.

“Why would Y/N want a plushie that looks like me?” Mingi asked. Yunho pulled his bag over and was already at the door, smiling back over his shoulder at the younger.

“Because Y/N thinks you are cute, that’s why,” he winked. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your evening together.”

Mingi blinked in confusion, still standing there before looking at the duck plushie in his hand, frowning.

“Y/N does?”

“Yuyu just left to visit his brother?” you frowned, a little surprised by the news when you arrived. It seemed unlike Yunho to just vanish like that; he never failed to inform everyone about it when he was to leave for some time, especially if you intended to meet up. Then, when it came to his brother and family, he was always super caring, something that everyone liked and respected about him.

You kicked off your sneakers and walked to the small kitchen corner. The shower had been welcoming, and you changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt, leaving your more comfortable clothes for sleeping in your bag. It wasn’t the first time you stayed over ‘just as a friend’; the couch was just as comfortable as any bed to you.

“Mhm, he was in a rush when I came back,” Mingi sighed. “He said we have all summer, so we will do it next time. I… should have called you. Sorry, then you could have rescheduled.”

You looked over to him, and your gazes met. His face started to heat up, and he tried to distract himself by fixing his glasses once more, leading you to smile.

“Nonsense, we can do this too. I do not mind, and I told you, there is not much else I have planned for the night. We can be evil and punish Yunho by spoiling the entire season for him, speaking about all the details once he’s back,” you joked to cheer him up a little and were pleased to see that he was grinning.

“I like the sound of that!”

You nodded and turned around, taking out plates to place the takeaway food inside, preferring to have it look a little prettier than eating out of the white containers. Meanwhile, Mingi started to add more pillows on his bed, along with blankets, and he turned off the bigger lights, replacing them with soft fairy lights. He had the bigger of the two beds, and with that, you were all used to sitting inside to watch on the TV hanging on the opposite wall.

When you turned around, you couldn’t deny he was obviously putting extra effort in today. Next to the extra blankets, he also added some flowers in a vase, and there was a chicken plushie that looked an awful lot like Mingi.

“I… since you ditched that cool party with Wooyoung and San… I thought it could be nice, pretending like we did something extra cool as well,” he muttered, biting down on his lower lip as if he was waiting for you to laugh at him.

Oh, Mingi, when would he finally start to see just how charming and amazing he was?

“Who would want to go to a boring party where everyone just gets drunk when you can have an amazing home cinema with good food and cute company?” you winked and walked over.

Without Yunho, it was your turn to try and cheer Mingi up, so you carefully sat down on the left side of the plushie.

“Now, you did not introduce me to your friend yet. Ah, if I’d have known, I’d have put a little more effort into my appearance.”

Mingi carefully took one of the plates and joined you, looking at it and then back at you.

“Uhm, a name? This is… Bbyongming. Hongjoong gifted him to me; he made him for some project back when we were juniors. He’s a…”

“Cute chicken. I love chickens!”

Now he pointed at the plushie again. “You did notice it was a chicken?! I always told everyone, but they say it looks like a duck.”

Mingi had to force himself to sit down; he almost spilled some of the food over the edge of his plate, but he looked at you, who was eagerly nodding.

“Tsk, I have no idea why anyone would think this is a duck. It is obviously a chicken and very cute. Looks a little bit like you.” You laughed softly and shoved some of the noodles inside your mouth just because you were embarrassed for having said just that.

For some reason, though, Mingi’s smile grew, and he was finally relaxing.

“I think so too!”

The both of you took care not to lean on the small chicken when you started with the series while eating the takeaway. You made a quiet note to thank Yunho for the meal later, even though he wasn’t here to share it with you.

To your surprise, the show was much better than expected, and while the first episode was quite a slow burn, you soon found yourself enjoying the plot and were invested in it, and so was Mingi. Everyone else likely would just glare at you for being so excited about it. There were hisses when something annoying happened and little gasps when the story took unexpected turns. A shiver over the scarier moments.

Yuyu sometimes joked how you reminded him of Mingi at times, during the very first dates you two went on, and there certainly were days when you couldn’t deny it.

As the hours went by, the two of you ended up moving closer together. Maybe it was Mingi being used to sitting between his two closest friends, who both wouldn’t mind it at all, or maybe you leaned in without thinking about it. The little chicken was sitting on your lap at this point; you played with its big head, squishing it to deal with your excitement about the plot.

It wasn’t until the screen darkened a little and asked if you were still watching that the two of you realized how many hours must have passed and how close you were sitting to each other now.

Mingi had taken off his glasses, his dark eyes looking curiously at you while there was still a soft blush on his cheeks now that he was so close. There were little details you never paid attention to before, and your heart was doing one or two awkward jumps in your chest as his arm tightened a little around your shoulder.

It was careful, scared you might withdraw any moment, but you just found yourself staring up at him, losing the hold around the plushie just a little. Slowly, Mingi was leaning closer to you so that his breath tickled your skin and his long lashes were about to close when suddenly, somebody was pushing the doorbell, and the two of you jumped up like the main characters in a horror movie.

“What the fuck?!” Mingi hissed and cleared his throat. You were rubbing your neck, unable to hide how your face was a little flushed, and there was an anticipation for something you didn’t see coming.

“I wonder who it is?” you mumbled, just to say anything, and Mingi was quick to put on his glasses and turned on some lights. The doorbell rang again.

“Should I get the baseball bat?” he asked, looking at you. At first, you weren’t sure if he was serious, but then, considering how you just watched a show where in one episode, they got robbed during something similar, you couldn’t entirely blame him.

“How about I get the bat, and you answer the door?” you suggested. At this point, you couldn’t entirely hide your smile; you knew how silly and dumb this was, but somehow, it was something you enjoyed. With Mingi, there was always room for something unexpected.

You walked over and carefully opened Yunho’s wardrobe. By the time the bell rang once more, you found his baseball bat. Your ex was quite a passionate baseball player, who gave up playing only after high school graduation due to a minor injury, but he didn’t want to risk it.

“Ready if you are!” You positioned yourself behind the door, exhaling as Mingi finally opened it to see who was ringing constantly that late. The building their apartment was in had seen its best years long ago, the lights dim and the environment not too inviting to be outside at a late hour, even during the summer months when most other streets were buzzing, but convenience stores had the downside of also attracting all kinds of figures to buy snacks or alcohol at a late hour.

Jongho rushed inside. “What took you so long? I was standing there for almost ten minutes.”

The man stopped, looking from Mingi, who was dealing with the realization he just let somebody get in so easily, to you, behind the door with a baseball bat up in the air. The youngest student was frowning, judging you quite obviously as he pointed an index finger from Mingi to you.

“I am not sure if this small apartment is cut out to play indoor baseball.”

You blushed, trying to look all cool and casual, relaxing on the bed. “Oh yeah, I mean. We thought you were Yunho who came back from his brother and wanted to just give him a small jumpscare,” you lied.

“You three are a weird trio, you know? But I guess that means Yunho isn’t here then? Dammit, I need the keys to the club room. It can’t be helped… I’ll be going then. Sorry for the interruption,” Jongho glanced over the bed and the fairy lights.

“Very sorry… didn’t know I’d run into a date. Anyway, see you around.”

There was no room to say anything; he already rushed out, and gone he was. Mingi and you were blinking at each other as he forced himself to finally move, locking the door and clearing his throat: “That was something…”

It was too late; now that somebody said the word, you couldn’t unsee it. How soft everything was, the way Mingi was acting around you recently, and Yunho’s odd behavior, just leaving the two of you like that.

As you stood there in silence, he was likely slowly starting to overthink because he carefully took the baseball bat from you and then started to wave with his hands.

“Ah… look, you don’t have to listen to… I mean, it is… we can just be friends.”

The last word was whispered, and you could hear the defeat in Mingi’s voice.

“I will start cleaning up…”

Finally, your legs moved, and you hugged him from behind. “No, leave it like that! I like it,” you whispered, and you felt him tense but very slowly turning his head around to look at you.

Idiot, how could he think that you’d not maybe consider liking him that way? How could you not? He wasn’t just handsome, a little strange, and entirely endearing, but somebody you trusted and always felt comfortable with.

Your heart was beating loudly, also with the question of why you thought this would be different from Yunho, how you could be certain you just had the bad habit of liking your friends a little too much?

Maybe it was because you really just were too alike, so it took you forever to notice the small differences.

“Do you maybe want to sit down again?” Mingi finally mumbled, and you nodded. He took your hand and turned off the lights as you went back to his bed. He was sitting down and, for a moment, hesitated.

“We could… do you maybe want to relax a little?”

Another nod followed, and the two of you stood there like awkward high schoolers who came along to prom when you finally crawled back on the bed and carefully relaxed against his shoulder. His long arms instantly curled around your body and kept you warm as he turned the show back on, but this time, you were far too distracted to really pay attention.

Mingi was feeling the same because he was looking down at you here and then until you noticed that at this point, you literally just were staring at him. You liked how he blushed, how it was so easy to read what he was thinking and feeling in a moment like that.

“You are pretty,” he whispered but forced himself for his eyes to remain on you, leading you to smile. “So are you, well, handsome.” There were just too many words in this year and age, but any would be fine with you, and there were even more you could think of that suited him.

“Would it be okay if I kiss you?” he finally asked, swallowing hard.

You nodded softly, and his big hands carefully rested against your cheeks. You turned around slowly so he could reach you better and pushed yourself up just a little.

This was by far not your first kiss, but every first kiss with a new person always felt like one. Mingi seemed shy as he breathed carefully against you and slowly tilted his head to lean in.

His plump lips were just as soft as you imagined, and one of your arms curled around his neck as you allowed your eyes to close.

The kiss was far from perfect: curiosity and tension mixed up, but it was just the way it should be. You were a little more eager than Mingi, encouraging him to deepen it more, and for a second, his hand clung a little to your hair.

Eventually, your lips broke apart, and he exhaled, grinning: “I think I finally understand why you all like kissing so much.”

Your face turned into a surprised expression: “Wait… this was your first kiss?”

Mingi smiled a little sheepishly: “I guess… always wanted it to be special, but I feel like I told you that before, Y/N.”

Now you were the one more nervous than confident, but Mingi laughed and hugged you gently. For a while, you sat there just like this.

It seemed a little strange that just maybe, you needed up until now to realize that you might have developed a crush on one of your closest friends and the very best of your ex, but like always, Yunho had known best.

Idiot. He really was a league of his own.

Mingi yawned a little: “Mh. I promise next time… I’ll ask you out properly. Like, you will know what it is… if you want that.”

You chuckled: “I admit, thinking of it now, surprise dates aren’t so bad, but yes, I’d like that. You look tired. We should get some sleep.”

You knew you should change and freshen up a little, but you were comfortable like that and didn’t want to leave.

“Do you want to cuddle, maybe?” Mingi asked again, and you winked: “You figured me out!”

He chuckled again and started to remove all objects from the bed so the two of you could get in together but stopped as he lifted up the plushie.

“Uhm… for you. Your personal Mingi… just make sure you do not like him better than me,” he pouted a little but then laughed, offering him shyly to you.

Your hands gently reached out before holding him up, close to Mingi’s face. “Twins, absolutely.”

You hugged him tightly: “I will treasure him, thank you.”

The taller nodded and slipped inside the bed first before you carefully followed, and his arms curled around you, pressing a small kiss on your hair. In return, you pulled his glasses off his nose and put them aside.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered. You exhaled and dared to snuggle a little closer against him. “Good night, Mingi.”

In theory, all was perfect, if not for the two of you being cowards watching scary shows without a mindful Yunho to remind you it wasn’t real.

“Should we maybe turn on the TV?” Mingi asked into the darkness, and you nodded.

“Anime?”

“Gotcha!” He leaned over, turning the TV on, and you curled up against him, snuggled up like that, watching a random show until the two of you fell asleep.

Looking back, university life and student years, they really had been wild, but there wasn’t even a moment you’d regret.

A few years later…

“How’s Y/N doing?” Yunho asked as he scanned through the wardrobe.

“Same as always, went skating with some other friends, but we will meet soon. We’re looking at an apartment today,” Mingi grinned as he finally settled on a white shirt. It was a little too big, but people kept saying he looked good in it, something about being "boyfriend-coded."

“Sounds like you two are finally making that last step. If anything, I’m a bit surprised it took you so long to move in together. I mean, no offense, but you’ve literally been living together since graduation, just staying at each other's place frequently.”

Mingi chuckled into the phone: “I’d ask how you know if you didn’t live across the hall from me. Though, it’s rare to see you these days with your insane workload. Don’t forget to take a break now and then.”

Yunho was nervous; it had been a while since he had felt that way. Somehow, everyone thought he was super confident with dating, but he wouldn’t say it came easy to him.

“Enough about us, though. You met your date at that midnight bus? It sounds dangerous to take a bus after 11:00 PM all alone.”

Yunho blushed, thinking about it: “Something like that. We waited for that bus together for quite some time, a few weeks, but I was too nervous. I was even googling how to approach a stranger on a bus the night we finally talked. Anyway, we meet in an hour, and I need to look my best…”

His best friend laughed: “Remember that plushie Hongjoong made of you first year of university?”

Yunho rolled his eyes, grinning: “Are you telling me now I should gift it to my date?”

Mingi hummed: “Well, it worked for me; it’s worth a try. Not that I am worried, if somebody manages to make you THAT nervous, I’m sure this person is pretty cool. Make sure to introduce us, yeah? OK, gotta go, see you later.”

Yunho ended the call. He changed into the outfit, moving left to right before exhaling deeply, placing his right hand cutely against his cheek, and looking in the mirror. Gringe.

Then he sighed, shaking his head: “Please, this is not how you do it…”

He grabbed his bag and headed to the door, but then he made a few steps back. The plushie was sitting on the small armchair in his bedroom. Yunho stared at it before he opened a shelf and pulled out some gift bag.

He carefully placed it inside before finally leaving to go to this very important date. He couldn’t wait to meet this special person again.