#it's the weekend so i can finally end the awkward break

[avatar-anna]

i saw this post on and got inspired. enjoy!

part two

"It was nice running into you."

"Yeah, yeah, you too. It was—I'm glad we could catch up."

You held your bag in both of your hands and leaned back on your heels, waiting for the sudden tension to cease. Harry scratched his neck awkwardly while you looked down at the cobbled streets beneath your shoes. When a minute passed and neither of you said anything, when two couples excised themselves to walk past you, you finally decided to break the silence.

"I'm headed this way."

"Me too. We can walk together?"

"O—Okay."

Harry extended his arm out, a clear message for you to go first, so you did. For a split second, his hand grazed your lower back in that protective gesture he always used to use when you walked anywhere. But that had been when you were together, and now you weren't, and even though his hand merely hovered awkwardly behind you, you swore you could still feel it.

"Your hair looks nice. I don't think I've ever seen it so short before," you said, needing to break the silence all over again before it consumed you.

"Thanks, I, uh, I shaved it a few months back. It's finally starting to grow in."

It must've been soon after your break up, you realized, quickly doing the math in your head. A change, a fresh start after the end of a long relationship. You understood that, knew neither of you needed to comment on it, or the fact that you no longer wore the necklace Harry bought you for your first anniversary, though you'd seen him glance down at the missing piece of jewelry multiple times since you ran into each other.

"It's cute," you said, resisting the intrusive urge to reach up and touch his hair, instead clasping your hands behind your back.

"Are you across the bridge?" Harry asked, gesturing to one of the many bridges that stretched across the Tiber.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

Harry shrugged, the canvas bag on his shoulder slipping a fraction. "You always liked Trastevere."

You smiled, charmed by how Harry still seemed to know you so intrinsically. "And you? Are you staying in Prati?"

Harry shook his head before waving to a fan who had spotted him. He didn't stop, though, and kept walking beside you, asking about your family, specifically your grandmother, who was his Scrabble partner nearly the entirety of your relationship.

"Good. I play Scrabble with her on the weekends now. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm not a good enough opponent, but she'll never say it to my face."

"Graceful as always, your nan," Harry nodded in agreement. "Probably wouldn't say the same thing about chess, though."

"No, probably not. Do you still play?" you asked, tilting your head up to look at him.

He was so close, close enough that the sleeve of his green shirt grazed your bare arm. Close enough that if you really wanted it to the back of your hand could graze his. Instead you shifted your hand away.

"When I can," Harry said, his mouth twitching as if recalling a memory. "I've been focusing on writing most days, but I play whenever I'm stuck."

"How's that going?"

"How's work?"

"Sorry, go ahead," you said, blushing a little. Would it always be this awkward around him? You hoped not. Harry had been a friend first, and even though you knew you shouldn't,y you missed his companionship some nights. Lots of nights. Most nights.

"No, you go. Catch me up on all the latest drama at work."

So you did, falling back into familiar, neutral territory as you brought Harry up to speed on your co-workers.

Before long, you'd made it to the apartment you were renting, your palms suddenly warm as you searched your purse for your keys. You were stalling, you both knew it, but Harry didn't comment, nor did he leave, didn't offer any reason to finally say goodbye.

You knew this was where it was supposed to end. That a chance encounter with your ex in a foreign country really shouldn't have gone on this long. You knew that, and yet...

"Do you want to come in?" you asked, scrambling for any logical reason as to why Harry should follow you into your apartment. "I—I, uh, I could make us coffee and—"

"Please. I mean—Sure. That would be...that would be fine."

Relief flooded through you, though that was quickly replaced by a guilty sort of anticipation as you unlocked the door to the main building of the apartment, as Harry followed you up a couple flights of stairs, as he waited once again for you to unlock a door. When you were inside, when you set your things down on the small dining table, you turned to face your ex.

Harry's gaze was once again lowered to your collarbones, to the place where the necklace he gave you used to sit. Then he met your eyes, the expression in them clear. It was the first time you'd seen them since running into him today. He'd kept his sunglasses on the whole time, perhaps to hide his expressions more, because now that you properly met his gaze, you saw it all. Those green eyes you still loved so much betrayed his every thought, and you knew yours probably did as well.

It was hard to say who moved first. If you grabbed the front of Harry's shirt before he wrapped an arm around your waist and fisted your hair in his other hand. But none of it mattered when your mouth met his, when your hands traveled up to cup the sides of his face, your thumbs tracing the familiar planes of his face.

A graze of his teeth against your bottom lip had you gasping, had him smiling as if that was the exact reaction he'd been hoping for. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down his scalp, satisfied by the groan that vibrated against your mouth as his tongue caressed yours.

"This isn't—It's not—" you tried to say, losing focus as Harry left a trail of kisses from your jaw to the base of your neck and back up again. "This doesn't mean—"

"I know," Harry breathed, his forehead pressed against yours as he toyed with the bow that held the front of your blouse together. Your breath hitched as his knuckle grazed your exposed stomach. "This doesn't change anything. Now take this off."

You almost made him do it just because he ordered you to, but you knew why he wanted you to be the one to untie the knot of your blouse. It meant you were saying yes to this moment, it meant you were saying yes to doing whatever it was you were about to do.

So you pulled at the blouse until it came undone, leaving it open so it revealed a strip of bare skin going right up the middle of your body. The rest you would leave up to him.

Harry shrugged out of his own sweater and t-shirt before reaching out to push back the shoulders of your shirt until it was off completely, falling into a puddle of fabric at your feet beside his. His gaze alone was too much and not enough, more explicit than it had any right to be. He stood there and drank you in for a full minute as if in a daze, taking in every mark and imperfect like he was reacquainting himself.

It was hard to get the words out, but you managed. "Still broken up?"

"Yeah," Harry said, his eyes still roving over every inch of your body that he could see. Then he blinked as if remembering the situation for what it was. "Yeah, still broken up."

There wasn't much left to say after that, really.

[mattslilies]

Kiss Cam - M.S.

"should we?" ... "why not?" or, the one where bsf!matt and bsf!reader end up on the game's kiss cam... and it sparks something new warnings: none!! unless u count kissing i guess! word count: 1.1k

you and matt had been friends since childhood, and you had always been incredibly close. you were in the same schools, lived in the same neighborhoods, and for a while, played the same sports.

you two had always been the athletic ones out of your sets of siblings, and that had only strengthened your friendship, through extra time spent together, and healthy competition.

eventually you had aged out of high school sports, but with both of you wanting to stay close to home, you had, of course, ended up at the same in-state college. you often carpooled home, but more importantly, you were each other's game buddies.

it didn't matter what was playing, you went to almost every one that you could. as long as you both were free, you would be found somewhere in the stadium, attending other in-state collegiate games as well.

this weekend was no different. you and matt were attending a basketball game for one of the bigger colleges near you, the tickets having been fairly cheap at the last minute. living so close to campus, you both had your cars, and decided to take a little trip and go together.

half a bucket and two sodas down, it was finally halftime. neither of you really cared who was winning, you just enjoyed watching the sport. you were laughing at all of the people swarming in and out of the stadium, knowing that the halftime concession lines were absolutely insane right now.

"aren't you so glad that we got our food during the first half?"

matt nodded, a few kernels of popcorn slipping from his hand as he put some in his mouth.

"yeah, i would hate to be stuck in those lines right now. those poor workers."

you laughed, agreeing, and went back to scrolling on your phone, looking up occasionally to see how long was left on the twenty minute break. it was at that point that you noticed the silly halftime games starting on the screen. you nudged matt, grabbing his attention.

"look, they're doing the cup shuffle with the ball under it."

matt shook his head, exasperated.

"i always lose these, i can never keep track of where it ends up."

"you got it this time!"

he did not, in fact, have it that time, but you got it correct, as usual. neither of you participated in the dancing challenges, but you thoroughly enjoyed watching the camera pan around to the people who were. it went through a few advertisements before returning, the infamous "Kiss Cam" logo taking over the screen.

both of you watched as it panned to a couple in the stands, before moving to two strangers, and giggled at the looks of awkwardness on their faces, and their shaking heads "no."

the giggle was quickly wiped off of both of your faces as the camera filled with a familiar scene. yourselves. shock was clearly displayed across matt' face, and you could only imagine that your face mirrored the same expression, as you looked over at him.

the stadium was cheering, and you were about to start shaking your head "no" like the two people before you, when matt spoke.

"why don't we do it?"

you were floored, but instead of denial, a question slipped out of your lips.

"should we?"

"why not?"

he had a point, you guessed. matt was incredibly attractive, and your friendship was strong enough to survive a kiss, right?

before you knew it, your lips were on his, his hand on the side of your face. screaming was heard from all around you as the camera captured the entire thing. he didn't hold the kiss for too long, pulling away to breathe, but his face was covered in a red flush when he did.

you both just stared at each other for a few seconds, before he broke the tension.

"you're a really good kisser."

you stumbled over your words, your brain seeming to short circuit, but eventually getting a sentence out.

"thanks, you are too."

he let out a short laugh, turning back to his phone, an easy smile on his face, as if he hadn't just kissed you like he'd been dying to do it forever. you tried to shake off the awkwardness and nerves as best you could, attempting to enjoy the rest of the game.

you'd kissed your friends before, why was this so different?

matt didn't seem bothered, so you forced yourself to not be bothered either. as the game went on, the tension melted away completely, and by the time you were in the last few minutes of it, you and matt were laughing like you had never quit.

matt had driven you there, your car having been low on gas that day, so you walked back to his car. getting in your usual spot as passenger, you quickly connected your phone to the aux cord, pulling up your shared playlist.

you had similar music tastes, and had a long concert on the way home from the game. you had almost forgotten about the events of the night, until you pulled back into the closest parking garage to your apartment building.

matt always walked with you to your apartment, as your room was just down the hall from his. that didn't change, but what did was his normal goodbye. he looked like he was going to say something, but then hesitated before speaking.

"i had a great time tonight."

you smiled, agreeing.

"so did i. we always have fun, don't we?"

there was still hesitation in his features, and the questioning look on your face prompted him to speak his mind.

"we do, yeah. tonight was better, though."

your mouth opened, then closed, processing what he meant.

"the kiss?"

he looked down, his hands in his jacket pockets.

"yeah. i really enjoyed that."

you forced yourself to push down the anxiousness inside your body, knowing that this was your opportunity to explore this possibility. you and matt had been close forever, and you couldn't deny that he was an absolute dream. that kiss had completely rocked your world, changing your perspective, and you would kill to experience his lips on yours another time.

so, with a deep breath, and a surge of confidence, you smiled at him, before unlocking your door and pushing it open.

"wanna do it again?"

an answering smile spread across his face as you grabbed his hand and pulled him into your apartment. his hand easily found your waist, your lips reconnecting before the snick! of the door closing was even heard in the hallway.

a/n: i was fighting for my life trying to finish this, sorry its so short, i wrote this from a hotel bed on vacay

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[mi55delulu]

5:38 a.m.

pairing: team lead!jungkook x hr lead!fem reader — read prequel here.

wc: ~4.5k

synopsis: in which you and jungkook have a night in.

genre: coworkers au, romcom, established relationship, fluff, smut

cw: some office lingo, cute banter, they’re both huge simps, kisses, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🔞, fingering, oral (f receiving), jk is a munch

a/n: heh, sorry … march slipped away and i’ve been dealing with some stuff, so i didn’t really have the inspo to write. nonetheless, here is my april offering! i know i said timestamp drabbles won’t go anywhere but i’m a liar 😎

—

Date nights happened every Friday.

Jungkook liked planning them. Basketball games, live bands at the local park, pub crawling — you name it. They’re special because he gets to do them with someone he likes. What better way to end the work week and start the weekend than with you?

It’s finally Friday or in corporate terms: TGIF. Making it to Friday always came in the form of relief only for him to repeat the work cycle after a short lived break. He didn’t mind. Jungkook got to see you for five days in a row. Now? Fridays were his finish lines because you came as an extension.

Today is Friday — date night … er, was, until you confessed you were too tired to go out tonight. He supposes he can just use this time to start on his laundry or build that Lego set he got from his friend, Jimin, a couple months ago. Sometimes space from your partner is good. He knows it is. He adores your company all too much now that you’ve both began seeing each other for the past two months. Sure, he’s had years with you at the company — befriended you, watched you grow, and unknowingly pined for you until it finally clicked that he’d like to get to know you more outside of work. Still, dating your coworker posed risks. He’s witnessed many of his own peers and employees go through awkward dating phases.

As far as he was concerned, he made sure to follow his golden rule: never date your coworker.

Thank god he wasn’t a stickler to rules. At least, for you.

Jungkook closes your car trunk after you load your bags. You scan the parking lot to make sure there was no one around before you linked your hand in his.

“I’m sorry, my brain can’t handle being around people at the moment,” you confess. You’ve been under a lot of pressure in your area with the mass hiring event the company is hosting next week. It’s understandable why you’d want some alone time.

“Don’t apologize, I get it.” He presses a reassuring kiss on your forehead, noticing how your body naturally leans towards him, “you deserve a quiet night to yourself.”

He’s usually good at saying the right things, but the frown on your face has him second guessing. Totally wasn’t his intention to make you upset especially on a Friday where people celebrate their long awaited freedom.

“I didn’t say I wanted to be alone.”

Oh.

“I also said people, not you.” You clarify.

He smiles. Likes how straightforward you are with him. There’s no beating around the bush. Even before dating, you’re honest and assertive with what you want. It’s one of the many qualities he appreciates about you.

Tilts his head, “yeah? What do you have in mind?”

“Come over to my place,” you pause to think, “we can cook and eat dinner together if you like. I’ve been meaning to start on the Iron Man movies you recommended.”

Jungkook chuckles, pleased with your suggestion. It’ll be his first time over at your place. He wonders how your home looks like.

“Aren’t we going to the farmers market tomorrow morning? Iron Man might be too long of a watch. We can watch something shorter.” That way, you’ll both have time to unwind and sleep earlier for the farmers market.

Efficient. He’d figure you’d like that too.

Yet, it earns another frown from you.

“I don’t mind the duration …” your hand sways in his, “just want to spend time with you.”

It’s these moments where Jungkook is glad he broke his rule and decided to pursue you despite your initial ignorance to his attempts. Granted, he has a lot to learn from you in terms of being more upfront.

“But if you’re wanting efficiency,” you start, “did you want to stay the night? Drop off your stuff at home and pack some clothes for the night.”

“If you want,” you add.

Having worked with you for many years, Jungkook witnessed many instances of you making the impossible possible. Truly admirable how you understand and know company policies like the backside of your hand, so you’re prone to finding a way.

Just like now and how he wonders if you know his heart like the backside of your hand.

Yes, staying over was the most efficient suggestion.

But also, you’re going to be the death of him.

“I’d love that,” he smiles, “I’ll be over in an hour.”

—

When Jungkook appears at your door 45 minutes later, a tinge of regret sets at the pit of your stomach. He’s showered. Hair down and slightly damp. You’ve seen him in regular clothing outside of work, but him in sweats and a crewneck with the bottom of his oversized shirt poking out from underneath? Deadly combo for your heart.

Among other parts of your body.

He’s been making you feel … a lot these days. The subtle glances he’d throw at your direction if he was headed to a meeting on your floor. Not to mention his borderline suggestive Teams messages … which, you’ll have to give him a talk about eventually because you know IT is watching. Nothing too inappropriate … just says things like how he’s sorry for your slightly smeared lipstick (after sneaking a kiss in one of the conference rooms) or that he was thinking of you.

It leaves you hot.

Makes you feel like a pubescent teenager with their first boyfriend. Except, Jungkook wasn’t your first and technically hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend. You’re not concerned. He hasn’t said or done anything to make you feel like he wasn’t dating you with genuine intentions.

“Come in.” You open your door wider to let him pass the threshold of your foyer. He sets his duffle bag down next to your couch and studies your living room.

You tidied up the best you could after you got home. Not much you needed to do being that you kept your living space relatively clean, but it was Jungkook’s first time over. You wanted him to feel comfortable in your home.

“I’ve always thought you were a white and beige decor type of person,” he marvels at the different paintings on the wall and little trinkets on your bookshelf.

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” You step closely behind him.

He straightens himself and shakes his head, “no, just full of surprises.”

You’ll take it as a compliment.

“Let me guess …” you hold your chin, pretending to be in deep thought, “black leather couch? Super hero figures?”

His jaw drops, “how’d you know?”

“I’ve seen your cubicle.” You link your pinky finger with his and lead him into your kitchen.

“Touché,” he waits closely behind you for his turn at the sink, “doesn’t explain your cubicle though. It’s empty.”

“It’s not empty,” you defend, moving to the side to let him wash his hands, “just … minimal.” You liked keeping your desk space clean. Often, people decorated their cubicles with photos of their loved ones or whatever current fixation they may have. You preferred an optimal space. Work is work. Plus, it tickled you when people wrongly perceive you.

“I’ve been thoroughly deceived,” Jungkook wipes his hand on the kitchen towel and turns to face you, “so what are we cooking up tonight, Miss Minimalist-Who-Isn’t-Really-One?”

You warm.

The evening is spent preparing dinner with Jungkook. His cooking skills lacked finesse, but he has a knack for throwing in seasonings that pair perfectly. He bumps the side of his hips to yours, reaches for the spices in your cabinet so you wouldn’t have to use your stool, and washes your pans after usage. This all feels so … domestic.

The crazy thing is? You wouldn’t mind having this every night with Jungkook.

You’re both seated on the floor of your living room, back against your couch with your food on the coffee table. Even with the movie playing in the background, you’re more invested in how Jungkook’s knees brush against yours and the sounds he makes when he’s eating something good.

It’s over the top and unnecessary, really. In the past, you’ve shuddered at chewing sounds. Hell, your friends would do it on purpose to annoy you. Those same friends would lose their marbles at the idea of you finding Jungkook’s eating habits endearing.

Crazy how liking someone can change you.

“Is the food not good?” He asks.

You look down at your plate.

“You’ve hardly touched your food,” he juts his chin at your plate.

“Slow eater,” you shrug.

“Liar. I’ve seen you eat at work.”

“Because we only have 30 minutes. Here,” you scoot your plate and begin transferring over some of your food to his plate, “help me.”

Just as he’s seen you eat, you’ve seen him too. You know his appetite and you also know he was being generous when splitting up the portions. You don’t mind sharing — there’s something fulfilling seeing him enjoy food, especially for a meal made together.

“Promise it’s good though. I think I’m still full from our potluck today.” You pat your stomach.

Jungkook eats with no reserve, “ah, for Rin’s goodbye party?”

“Mhm.” Rin, one of the senior leaders, was transferring to another company. It’s tradition to do goodbye potlucks as a result of the company’s policy to not delve into the party funds for these type of gatherings. Cheapos, but oh well. Rin brings her signature chocolate cupcakes all the time and this was everyone’s last chance to have it before she leaves. Unfortunately, Jungkook is located in another program area so it’d be awkward if he just stopped by for the food.

“Ugh, still upset you didn’t save me a cupcake.”

“You know those go out the first 10 minutes. Can’t blame me.” You know he’s feigning sadness. Finds it cute when he sulks — knows it’s an absolute privilege to see other sides of him outside of work. You’ll never take that for granted. It’s how you learned he has a full tattoo sleeve and a motorcycle license. If he thinks you’re full of surprises, he’s just the same.

Perhaps that’s why the both of you work so well together.

Bellies full and dishes washed, you and Jungkook are seated on your couch for the last half of the movie. His arm rests comfortably on the couch’s frame, hand just an inch away from the back of your neck.

“You’re so far away. C’mere,” Jungkook’s fingers caresses your cheeks, sending a rush of butterflies to your stomach. You scoot closer, head naturally falling on his chest as he places his hand on your waist. The movie plays in the background but you’re not even sure what’s happening anymore. All your attention is directed at the faint scent of his detergent and the thumb mindlessly rubbing your side. Such a small and innocent act, but it has your mind going to other places.

“I like this.” His voice interrupts your not so pure thoughts.

“Huh?” You straighten yourself up.

“Friday nights,” he keeps you close, “just like being with you in general. Do you?”

“I do,” you answer without hesitation, “I like being with you too.”

“Good.” Jungkook tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss on your cheek. It’s small, fleeting, and delicate. Makes you want more. You never shy away from affection and Jungkook will always meet you halfway. He’s already there, head turned waiting for you.

Your lips meet his. Again, it’s small, fleeting, and delicate. Makes you need more. You frown when he pulls away. He’s not far though, forehead still connected to yours. You get lost in his hooded eyes.

“Did I upset you?” He tilts his head, “you’re always frowning around me.”

“Didn’t want you to stop,” you press another kiss on his lips, hand clutching onto his crewneck.

“Cute,” Jungkook’s breath fans over your skin as he chuckles into your lips, “you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

He doesn’t let you answer. Simply kisses you more earnestly, drinking in your sighs and soft mewls. The prior hectic work week now long forgotten as you melt under his touch and company.

“Can’t die on me,” you shudder as he trails wet kisses down the column of your neck. You gasp when he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot.

He warms at your reaction and soothes the area with gentler kisses, “yeah, you’re right. Like you too much to leave you all alone in the shuttle.”

You nod, heart full from the revelation: he likes you. A no brainer, but it makes you happy hearing it come directly from him. People say it takes 30 days to form a habit. You like them — habits turned routines. You’ve had years with Jungkook and yet, you don’t think of Jungkook as a routine. Just a way of life — someone you seek out during the day and the next.

He pulls away with a serious look.

“I’ve been thinking …” his voice trails off, “about taking things a step further, as long as you’re okay with it.”

“As in?” You know what he’s implying, but you want to hear him say it.

“As in I want us to be together. Officially.”

You’ve been asked out before in the past: love letters, text messages, mid-sex — yeah, that was an odd one. But there’s something so sweet and mundane about how he’s asking you in the comforts of your home. Jeon Jungkook was always a source of familiarity — a constant at work. He’s still that even now.

Misjudging your silence for rejection, Jungkook repeats your name with a panic-strickened expression.

“Sorry, this is probably too soon, forget I said anything. I know we just started seeing each other and the whole dating your coworker dynamic might be weird, so …“

“Jungkook,” you laugh, “you think I’m going to say no?”

“Uh, yes?” He swallows.

“When have I ever said no to you?” You lean forward.

“Plenty of times,” he recounts with a playful grin, seemingly more calm now that you’re talking again, “Soobin’s salary increase, not wanting to try my caprese salad, and you still haven’t let me preview the interview questions.”

“First off, Soobin is capped off at his level. If we give him a raise, we’d need to reevaluate the entire company too. Before you say anything, we’re at a budget freeze. Also, I hate tomatoes, you know this. And previewing is—“

“Off the tables. I know, I know. I was just kidding,” Jungkook interrupts and takes your hand in his, “you’re right though. You rarely say no to me. But in this case or anytime ever, you can.”

You never had an issue with saying no until Jeon Jungkook came along. Damn those eyes and honey-laced voice he has no control over. You’ve questioned whether he’s aware of his effects; though, what does it matter when you’re willing to find alternatives to his requests?

“Huh. Wish I had that option for all your past personnel requests,” you tease. Jungkook rolls his eyes and snorts. He’s always been persistent at work, but in these circumstances, Jungkook was more than willing to wait on your terms.

You know this.

You shake your head, “can’t say no to you purely because I don’t want to,” you soak in his expectant expression, “and … I want to be with you too.”

People tell you that falling for a coworker was a recipe for disaster. You’ve seen it in your profession. Conflict of interests, gossip, and tension at the workplace if things go sour. Though, dating Jungkook never felt like a risk or a gamble. With every surface you scratch at, you feel even more immersed in Jungkook.

“Really?” He blooms, dimples making your heart stutter in your chest.

“Yeah,” you nod, “I like you a lot … always have.”

The confession shouldn’t surprise anyone. And yet Jungkook looks at you as if he won the lottery.

Struck gold.

Peppers kisses all over your face, follows after your body as you lay down, calls you cute, and revels in your giggles. Sure, he makes your job … challenging at times, but being with this Jungkook? Affection and intimacy comes easy. Simple. Natural.

“You like me too, yeah?” You husk into his lips, feeling his nose graze your cheeks as he nods.

“Course, I do,” he murmurs, “more than you’ll ever know.”

“Will you show me?”

You really will be the death of him.

Just like how you can’t say no to him, Jungkook can’t either.

Feels right when your hand wraps around his wrist and guides it right above the waistband of your loungewear, “please?”

Jungkook is a simple man.

Loves that one yellow floral dress you wear when the weather gets a little warmer — an indication that Spring is here. To new beginnings. Doesn’t realize you’ve purposefully worn that dress in the past because you enjoy the way he lights up every time he sees you. Recently, his new thing is whenever you fix the collar of his dress shirt at work. Yes, he’s a simple man. And just like right now how it doesn’t take much for him to get worked up when you look up with pleading eyes reserved only for him.

Jungkook leans in, thumb pads over the plush of your lips. It’s only natural for you to kiss them. Only natural for him to replace his thumb with his lips. Greedy. Weak. Feeble. His resolve further crumbles when your fingers grasp at his crewneck, pulling his body closer. Gets a little messy in his kisses and licks the seams of your lips. Permission? Granted, always.

“Oh!” You gasp. Music to his ears. Jungkook pulls away only to watch your expression change as he trails his hand past the waistband of your pants. Could feel your heat and slick gather at your panties.

“This okay?” His middle finger applies more pressure down your slit.

“Yeah,” you nod, “keep going.”

Call it stress or your recent dry spell, but when Jungkook’s fingers part your panties to the side and begin rubbing at a pace that has you falling apart, you come undone in under a minute. Couldn’t help it even if you tried.

“I-“ you moan into the crook of Jungkook’s neck with your eyes shut tight, unable to formulate a proper sentence let alone warn him of your orgasm. He knows though, doesn’t have to see your face to know that you’re cumming. Wishes he could. Instead, he’s met with the sudden wetness coating his fingertips, the twitch of your clit, and your muffled cries.

“It’s okay, cum for me,” he reassures while planting kisses on your shoulder, “that’s it, baby. Let go.” His fingers never ceasing in movement.

It’s never happened this fast before, not with other partners nor on your own. But you lay there, breathless and slightly embarrassed. Clarity seeps through your veins: You are dating Jungkook. Jungkook just made you cum on your couch. You like Jungkook. A lot.

A shy laugh bubbles out of Jungkook. You’re not sure if it’s your own sweat or the condensation from Jungkook’s warm breath on your skin.

“That was quick.” He teases. You swallow, squirming underneath him to push at his chest. He doesn’t move. Stays. Fingers are still moving up and down your wet sex. It’s comforting as much as it’s getting you worked up again.

“Embarrassing,” you correct, “mmf, Jungkook,” you bite back a moan at the feel of his middle finger push at your entrance. He doesn’t do more than that. Just applies the right amount of pressure to have you sigh in wanton.

Your hand runs down his torso, also wanting to return the favor, but Jungkook shakes his head.

“Work’s been so tough on you,” he removes his hand out of your pants and sits up on his knees, “let me take care of you, you deserve this.”

Not reciprocating isn’t your style, especially if you really like someone. Feels wrong to not make them feel good too. It isn’t out of obligation, it’s because his pleasure makes you feel good too. Judging by Jungkook’s tented sweats and flushed skin, you know he’s enjoying this. And so when you nod for him to continue, you swore you caught a glimpse of his cock twitch.

Before you know it, your pants and underwear are somewhere on the floor. Jungkook takes off his crewneck and and jokes it’s in solidarity, but immediately folds at the sight of your pout. His t-shirt eventually joins the rest of your clothing on the floor.

You gulp, mesmerized by his lean physique. You always knew there was something more underneath his typical business attire and oversized clothing. Just never realized where his tattoos began and ended … whether there’s more you’ve yet to discover. The freckles. Sunspots. Scars and stretch marks. All of it.

“You’re so pretty.” He says while kissing down your exposed stomach. His hands push the back of your thighs up towards your torso, parting your legs at the same time.

“Oh god,” you screw your eyes shut again as Jungkook places a delicate kiss on your sex, just a hair away from your clit.

You tremble, mouth agape from Jungkook’s tongue trailing up and down your pussy. Slow. Purposeful. Wet. So fucking wet. Maps all the areas that get you breathless and whiny. Saves those landmarks for future visits. Jungkook doesn’t tease — not this time at least. Because the moment you cry out from the small flick of his tongue in your clit, he’s all in. Lips suctioning around your clit, Jungkook finds home between your legs. You whimper, back lifting off your couch and toes curling.

He eases away and places a small kiss on your thigh to get your attention.

“Want you to watch. Will you do that for me?”

You can’t say no to Jeon Jungkook. Not when his nose is flushed, lips and chin dewy from eating you out. Not when his usually well-kept hair is slightly tussled, but he still looks so effortlessly good. Not when he asks you so nicely with those glassy eyes.

Simply because you don’t want to say no.

When you wordlessly prop yourself up with your elbows and tilt your head to the side, Jungkook chuckles and dips back down to your clit, “gonna make this so good for you, ‘kay?”

His eyes are unwavering. Locks eyes with yours for a second to make sure they stay open for him and only closes it to refocus on the task at hand. His moans vibrate into your cunt, brows furrowing deeper upon your breathy moans. Works harder to draw out louder ones.

Jungkook thinks there’s nothing better than having you like this. Performs even better when you spur him on with words of encouragement. ‘There,’ ‘Yeah,’ ‘Uh-huh,’ ‘You’re so good,’ ‘Mhmm,’ ‘Faster.’

He knows you’re close when you start rutting your pussy against his face at a steady rhythm. Easily glides two fingers inside and thrusts at an even pace. You lurch forward, shoulders hunched over at the sudden intrusion.

“Jungkook,” you pant, “y-you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Want you to come,” he encourages with a moan, “go ahead, show me how good you feel.”

It’s right there. Another lick followed by the curl of his fingers has you gushing around him for the second time tonight. White splotches bloom behind your eyelids. Jungkook keeps his promises. Makes it good for you by sucking on your clit to draw out your orgasm.

Your body plops back down on your couch, shaking from both the aftermath of your orgasm and how Jungkook continues to lap at your sex.

A few seconds pass and Jungkook finally makes his way back up to you, forehead knocking against yours clumsily. You smile into his kisses, taking in the taste of you on his tongue.

“Needed that, didn’t you?” He exhales against your lips, grins cheekily when you concur, but also realizes how tired you must be with the lack of comebacks.

Jungkook stares at the clock on your wall after you yawn, “let’s get ready for bed, hm?”

“But you,” you stare down between you and eye his hard length poking at your thigh.

“Will live,” he chuckles, “next time, okay? ” Jungkook seals the promise with a kiss.

—

You startle awake in the early morning. Half of it thanks to Jungkook’s movements and the other due to forgetting you had a guest. The dark blue morning hues don’t cast enough light for you to recognize the other person in bed with you. You recognize his scent though. Body naturally gravitates toward his warmth.

“Jungkook?” Your voice croaks, eyes fighting to stay open.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” You feel your mattress dip from his movements.

You chuckle, “a little. You were moving around quite a bit. Not used to another bed?”

“No, no, bed is fine. Great even, might need to get the same one at my place” he clears his throat, “ah well anyways, I was just …”

“Hm?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

He sighs, shifts his arm underneath your head to eliminate the distance between. The brief pause has you anxious and yet you wait patiently for what he has to say.

“We’re, like, together-together, right?”

“Yes, why?” You answer without hesitation.

He exhales, “so we’d have to sign some sort of nepotism form?”

Having processed multiple nepotism forms, you know couples typically avoid doing this in the event there’s an eventual breakup. No one likes being talked about if there was a split, but also no one likes being caught breaking company policy. You’re a stickler to rules. Except, it feels a little different now that it involves your own personal life.

Was Jungkook afraid of people knowing? Did he have fears that the relationship wasn’t going to last?

“That’s what’s keeping you up?”

“Why wouldn’t it?” You can sense a pout even in the darkness of your room, “I love working with you. Bugging you is the best part of my day.”

Ah.

“So you do do it on purpose,” you gasp jokingly knowing full well of his intentions.

“You’re ignoring the part where I said I love working with you,” he hugs you tighter, face smushed against his bare chest, “who else is going to help me with my wacky requests? Or entertain my Teams messages?”

“Speaking of your messages …”

“You just love giving me bad news, huh?”

“You know IT can see all our messages. We could get in trouble.”

“I’m not worried. I know a guy …”

“And this is why we need to fill out that nepotism and disclosure form.”

You grin into his warm chest, “also, you’ll probably have to work with Sora on your future requests.”

“You’re joking,” he deadpans, “now I’m really not going to be able to sleep. She takes a minimum of five business days to reply to my emails.”

“That’s cause you knocked over her yogurt in the fridge,” you laugh.

“That was two years ago!”

You place a small reassuring kiss on his chest, “I’ll find a way. You know I always do.”

—

a/n: in lieu of missing my march entry, i shall give you three random life updates: 1. i am following eagletok despite being afraid of birds (shadow and jackie otp) 2. back on dating apps aka hell! had a lowkey idol x fan moment when one of our city radio hosts liked me on there. so, god if you’re listening … i would like this yn moment with any of the bts members pls, thx!!! 💞 3. cried almost every ep of WLGY🍊

next update will be a namjoon fic that me and my bestie been plotting since 2022. don’t ask how much i’ve written … you will be sorely disappointed. but it has potential!!! till next time. ♡

[pb5luvr]

in sickness and in health

a/n: sorry for my hiatus i was gonna write on thursday night but i fell asleep at like 8 pm and this weekend i’ve been busy but im back now!! also sorry this is so short im tired (btw i took inspo from someone on this but i forgot who im sorry 😔)

3rd POV

azzi was dying. well, not actually but it sure felt like it. with just her luck, she caught a bad cold at the same time she got her period —so practically dying. one thing about azzi, though, is that she hates being sick, so being sick and on her period felt like a damn near death sentence.

that’s how she ended up, curled up in her bed, surrounded by blankets, with a heating pad resting on her stomach. paige —determined to rid her girlfriend of her struggles— stumbled in the room, seconds later, trying to balance a bowl of soup, a mug of hot tea, and advil on a tray without giving herself third degree burns. she set the tray on the bedside table before leaning down to azzi’s level to brush a curl out of her face and give her a soft kiss on the forehead.

“do you wanna try eating some soup? or drinking some tea?” paige asked in more of a “you will” tone.

reluctantly, azzi sat up, “some tea,” she croaked out.

paige picked the tea up off the tray and blew on it before handing it to azzi. azzi took a small sip and couldn’t tell if it was her throat or the temperature of the tea that made her throat burn, so she handed it back to paige.

“no more,” she said, “it makes my throat hurt”

paige gave her a sympathetic look before placing the mug back on the tray.

“do you want me to get you anything else instead?” she asked azzi

azzi just gave her a pouty look, her lips slightly puffed out and her eyes glassy. paige could read her girlfriend like no other and could tell something was bothering her.

“what’s wrong beautiful?” she asked softly as she sat down next to azzi.

suddenly, azzi’s bottom lip began to tremble, “i hate feeling like this”

“i know princess, i’m sorry you feel like shit” paige brushed a few curls behind azzi’s ear.

“i just want to feel better and not be bleeding out of my uterus” azzi said, breaking eye-contact with paige.

paige gave a soft chuckle, “you have to try to make yourself feel better if you actually want to get better,” she said, now moving her hand to azzi’s thigh and rubbing her thumb against it, “can you at least try to drink some more of your tea?”

azzi was silent for a moment before she finally spoke up, “can we please just cuddle for a bit?” she asked softly

“only if you promise to drink the tea after” paige raised an eyebrow at her

azzi went silent again.

“azzi-” paige started.

“fine,” azzi cut her off, “i’ll drink the stupid tea after”

paige responded with a smile as she moved towards the middle of the bed and slid under the covers, opening her arms for azzi to lay in. azzi gladly accepted the offer and layer her head on paige’s chest, throwing an arm over her waist. paige closed her arms around her girlfriend and started to drag her fingertips up and down azzi’s back.

it was silent for a while, not awkward, just comfortable, before azzi spoke softly, “thank you for taking care of me”

“i’d do anything for you az” paige replied, meaning every word.

azzi smiled sleepily, paige’s fingers lulling her to sleep, “i love you”

“i love you azzi,” paige said, “and you better drink that tea when you wake up”

azzi’s smile widened just a little more knowing damn well she wasn’t drinking that tea when she woke up.

[bengiyo]

Ben’s Big BL Blurb 5: Let’s Talk About Sex

I was mostly planning to check in again after the current Japanese shows ended, but after three out of four sex scenes left me wanting this week, I want to write down my ideas. I maintain that bed scenes, like action scenes, need to tell us more about the characters. Many sex scenes serve as a release of tension or confirmation of existing feelings. As usual, MAME seems to understand this, and others should probably take notes. 

Call Me By No Name is Doing Nothing For Me (5/8)

I have just about given up on this show. I don’t get Megumi’s whole deal, why she’s so in love with Kohata, or Kohata’s reticence. I was really hoping that an intimate scene would open up some space for vulnerability and truth with them to give us some answers about why these two weirdos are drawn to each other, but that’s not what we got. I was hoping that when we saw these two go at it we’d learn how much Megumi has felt for women before, or how she responded to Kohata’s experience. Instead, I’m left feeling cold by the whole affair, and generally baffled by the conflicting themes around going somewhere she did cutesy girl nights before, and ordering the cute food. This one is a chop.

Impression of Youth is Wasting My Time (5/9)

I have my own squicks as a former teacher with stories where a teacher messes around with their student. However, I don’t see the point of doing a teacher-student story if we’re not going to explore any of the lines being crossed here. We also didn’t get a good arc about the student helping the teacher properly reconnect with a feeling, or discover something, that helped him get back to his art. We simply had him start painting on the beach again, the kid confessed, and then they fucked with awkward kissing. I was a bit let down by the brother’s fast encouragement of the whole thing. It felt like they were reaching for the same energy we had in Call Me By Your Name (2017) with Oliver and Elio, but it’s missing the component where Oliver knew what he was doing the whole time for me. The overall alignment feels off, and I’m getting so little emotion from this show as a result. On top of all that, they showed us the kid’s boxers before implying he was nude in the shower! Ridiculous! 

When It Rains It Pours is Being Shy About Sex in a Show About Cheating (5/7)

This is the biggest offender of the week for me. This show is all about how the leads cannot have sex from the people they love, and find someone they can commiserate with in each other. When the dam finally breaks and they both need the release in each other, I was so dismayed that the show tried to gloss over as much of the sex as possible. It’s so fucking annoying for me when the shows about sex get precious about it and won’t show it. I was thankful that they tried to capture all the emotions happening around the weekend they spent together, but I think we lost a lot in not having Hagiwara blow Sei, because you just know that man has a people pleasing streak that would require him to give pleasure back. The lack of sex also means that there is no gap time between the infidelity and the discovery. We don’t give enough time for the shift in their relationship to breathe before the crisis (@respectthepetty). I’ve lamented before about Japanese shows only showing toxic or breakup sex, and so it’s damned annoying that they’re doing that in the cheating show because they probably want these guys to be together by the end. I was really hoping Mood Indigo would have some company finally (especially after Love in the Air Koi), but I clearly need to stay patient. Cannot overstate how lame it is for the show about two guys cheating because their partners won’t fuck them being shy about the sex effectively sides with the partners who won’t fuck them. Finally, I am not over them getting the insertion angle wrong while making points about it!!

Your Sky Could Have Been A Good Follow-Up on 2gether

I’ve been sitting on this one for a bit because I don’t know what I want to say about this one. I was really into it in the beginning, but it felt like this show didn’t really know what it wanted to do after resolving the issues with Oh. I personally liked the dad being confronted by his wife and father about the way his homophobia was hurting his son, but I didn’t really enjoy it as a Very Special Episode. I would have also liked to see Teerak’s newfound assertiveness in this period beyond is refusal to cave. I think this show also deeply underutilized its own supporting characters, especially the side couples. Still, I thought Thomas was probably the most beautiful newest BL boy we’ve gotten, and I liked the way he and Kong worked together. I also really enjoyed Teerak being allowed to want sex, ask for it, and take charge of it. That’s so important for a cute character. Letting us know that Teerak has also become protective of the private moments he has with Fah, and is growing into his desire for Fah really is a great way to finish a show.

Final Verdict: 7, Recommended With Reservations. I find it hard to give this a stronger recommendation. I just think the show ends up being overall inessential from how much of it ends up being fluff that doesn’t connect much to each other. The biggest things I liked were Fah and Teerak, especially in the early episodes, and I liked the family dynamics. Still, I feel like this show didn’t know what to do without Tine’s internalized homophobia, and what to do with Fah’s ex that was mentioned. There’s just too much hanging off this to recommend it as a strong drama. Everyone is very pretty, and the performances are earnest. It’s a show that means well, even if it’s a bit indulgent. 

The Boy Next World Understands that Phu Has a Dick (5/10)

MAME, as usual, understands the assignment. There’s no way that their first encounter is going to be Cir showing up to stick is dick in Phu’s ass. He’s been obsessed with this boy for years in a way that prioritizes Phu’s wellbeing. It was absolutely correct to payoff that Cir keeps making Phu hard by having Cir take care of him, let us see that Phu enjoyed it. Like @babyangelsky I think it’s important that we let go of the notion that cute characters cannot want and enjoy sex. We got so much from this. We know that Cir likes to give pleasure, and that he’s not going to ask for it from Phu. We also know that Phu cares about Cir, too, because he asked about his time in the bathroom (Cir clearly jerked off and rinsed his mouth, y’all). What’s so excellent about putting a sex scene at this point is it means we’ll see their sex change after Phu learns that Cir has been stalking him for years. MAME is consistently the best storyteller at using the kisses and sex to help inform the arc of the relationship. Most importantly, she gets what the angles are supposed to be.

Ossan’s Love Thailand Is…Fine (5/12)

I’m not really into this one much right now, despite what I think is a pretty solid performance from Krit Shahkrit. I understand the choice to go back to making Kongdech a widower, but I don’t think giving him a daughter who initially opposed the romance added much to this for me. I’m hoping activating Thor’s character next week will add some energy to this for me, because I’m feeling a bit flat with it at this point. I’m glad they’re letting Earth and Mix continue to play adult characters, but it doesn’t feel like they knew what they wanted to do with office romance dynamics here.

Gelboys is a Welcome Return from Boss Kuno (1/7)

Started this today and I am seated. I really love how much it feels like we get to actually be inside of Bangkok. I love that we opened with an ad for the Bangkok rail system as a mechanism for freedom. I love how filming on iphones has enhanced the naturalistic feeling of the production. I also love how we completed the major arc of the het angst of Make It Right in the first like five minutes. Incredible stuff. I’m so excited to see the mess Fou4Mod is going to make of everything, and I’m excited to see Chian dickmatize that boy. Curious to see how much this feels like a bubble show. Shout out to Boss for showing us a naked teen at the start of this show to scare off the pearl clutchers.

RED BLUE is EVERYTHING (6/8)

This is not BL, but it’s got enough BL boys rolling on the floor and sweating on top of each other that I’m saying here loudly that I LOVE IT. Kimura Keito is fantastic in this, and I loved his fight with Okura Takato in episode 6. I almost didn’t recognize my boy from his role as Amane in If It’s With You with the change in his hair. I did not know I needed a wrestling show with BL boys…who am I kidding? We’ve been asking for this every year. This is hitting all the notes I want from a sports shonen show. It’s fantastic.

Please Use the Sex Well in Romance

I think there’s a real place for clean romance in the BL genre. Some of our favorites don’t involve sex being a major component of their romance narrative, but that often requires significantly more drama and better storytelling and plots. What I cannot abide is when I find myself bargaining about how a show that wants to talk about sex every episode seemingly doesn’t want to deal with sex. Romances about sex that don’t use the sex well in their stories are as bad as comedies with terrible jokes, or action flicks with no suspense and satisfying fight sequences.

Other than that, I dropped I'll Turn Back This Time. It’s just too stupid and incoherent for me to put up with it’s nonsense. Seeya next time. 

[55sturn]

✮ I’M A LOSER BABY SO WHY DON’T YOU KILL ME HCS

synopsis: in which i give you headcanons about our favourite complicated “ couple. “

pairing: loser!chris sturniolo x mean girl!reader

disclaimers: mentions of drugs [ both mild and hard ], mentions of sex, angst, swearing, the whole nine yards.

✮ mean girl!y/n who keeps a secret collection of chris’ clothes tucked away in a box in her closet, she pulls it out after every fight they have and falls asleep in at least one article of his clothing.

✮ loser!chris who keeps a picture of reader in his wallet, it’s of her getting ready for one of her family’s parties, she had sent it to him on snap and he screenshotted it and printed it out.

✮ mean girl!y/n who has harboured a crush on chris since their first meeting in the high school hallway.

✮ loser!chris who, surprisingly, doesn’t text nearly as much as y/n does, he prefers talking over facetime or phone call because he adores her voice.

✮ mean girl!y/n who needs to fall asleep on the phone with chris if, for whatever reason, she can’t get to his place or wherever he’s crashing for the night, and this still happens even when they’re mad at each other, it’ll be tense and awkward and a bit uncomfortable, but they still fall asleep on the phone together nonetheless.

✮ loser!chris who is smarter than he seems, he’s good at reading people, after years of dealing drugs and running product to sketchy people in even sketchier areas of town, he can figure out when someone is or isn’t who they’re pretending to be, and he can figure out their motives from a mile away. he doesn’t let on that he’s good at reading people and he lets people believe he’s dumb as rocks, because it tends to give him the upper hand when he needs it.

✮ mean girl!y/n who is actually very intelligent in her field of interest and major, which happens to be business & management, and she discreetly takes online courses, but she doesn’t let people know.

✮ loser!chris who is actually a major film and photography geek. he spent a lot of time with nick in the photo lab and joined him on any photography projects nick took after school. and he also enrolled in film courses when he finally decides to go back to get his diploma, and ends up going to community college, which grants him the opportunity to start filming and doing videography for his friends in the music industry. [ future concept ]

✮ mean girl!y/n who helped out at the humane society on weekends early in the mornings during high school. it’s how she adopted her french bulldog named mocha, but she claims to have bought her from a prestigious breeder her family knew [ she doesn’t support breeders or puppy farms, but to maintain her higher status image, she went with a lie that her family and friends would accept ]

✮ loser!chris who has a journal filled with pictures he and y/n took together, alongside little writings about each picture, pages with dreams about her, stories about her, and every single thing he knows about her.

✮ mean girl!y/n who talked horribly about chris to her friends, in front of him, at the first party they hooked up at. it was after they hooked up, and her friends had noticed their state and the fact they had come down sort of at the same time and joked about them hooking up.

✮ loser!chris who has two cats, an orange cat with bright green eyes named matcha and a calico cat with blue eyes named spot. he “ adopted” them both with y/n, [ realistically he was skateboarding home from a deal ( both times ) and they followed him home, ] and y/n named them.

✮ mean girl!y/n who frequently dates guys of the same status as her to appease the gated community she lives in. it breaks chris’ heart every time, but she tries so hard not to give into what her heart is telling her to do.

✮ loser!chris who genuinely can’t wait for the nights he and y/n agree to spend together, he doesn’t do much aside from dealing, working at the skate shop, and partying. he looks forward to spending time with y/n more than anything, in his mind, despite how toxic and unhealthy it may be for him because he knows that she’s only using him, any sort of time and moments spent with her, is better than nothing at all.

✮ mean girl!y/n who actually gets excited every time she agrees to spend the night with chris, she fools herself into thinking it’s because she’s getting dick and drugs, while ignoring the true reason why.

✮ loser!chris who helps out at the local homeless shelter, secretly paying his dues to the kind owner that helped him out when he couldn’t keep couch surfing.

✮ mean girl!y/n who regularly donates whatever she can to the homeless shelter, under either a fake name or anonymity.

✮ loser!chris who hates homemade chicken noodle soup unless it’s made by his mom.

✮ mean girl!y/n who has a deep love for mary-lou, and has a tendency to turn to her about things she’s uncomfortable telling her step-mom.

✮ loser!chris who is extremely close with karina, y/n’s closest friend, after he was recommended to her by y/n.

✮ mean girl!y/n who hates the texture of pickles, but orders them on all her burgers because she loves the taste and will pick them off.

✮ loser!chris who will eat the pickles even though he’s not the biggest fan of them, because he knows that she hates wasting food.

✮ mean girl!y/n who actually isn’t mean at all once you get to know her beneath the surface, she just keeps up the persona and image she developed in high school because it got her places and she’s actually just a deeply scarred and insecure girl who is scared to lose her status and has never healed from the things she’s dealt with.

✮ loser!chris who see a future with y/n, and decides to tell her one night, they’re bother fully sober, and it just slips past his lips.

✮ mean girl!y/n who panics when she’s hears this and tells chris that she doesn’t want that, that she doesn’t want a future together, and chris kicks her out, telling her they’re done because he can’t keep waiting for her.

✮ loser!chris who spirals after breaking up with y/n officially, and gets himself back into dealing, but this time it doesn’t go as smoothly as it had in his past, to the point where he gets into a physical fight with his supplier, and even lands himself in jail after being caught with a kilo of coke, and he thinks that this is it for him, that he’s stuck there for the foreseeable future, but the judge somehow, some fucking way, for whatever reason, decides to grant chris a pardon, with the condition of bail and community service.

✮ mean girl!y/n who pays chris’ bail, dropping the money without hesitation, and she steps into the cop shop with an irritated sigh, and when chris turns the corner, she’s stomping up to him and shoving him back before pulling him into a rough kiss before saying “if you wanted me back, you could’ve fucking said so instead of landing yourself behind bars, again, you idiot.”

STARS CORNER finally some loser!chris content, also some clarification, this type of “loser” is based off the loser guys i went to high school with and dated myself, it’s not based off the geeky type of loser obvs.

[dreamauri]

Hi there pookie 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 just finished reading dedicated to the one I love and I'm wondering if u are gonna release a new chapter? Like ugh I fell in love with this story 😍😩

♪ — 𝗗𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 - thirteen max vertsappen x  fem! driver! reader ( fluff ) series summary . . . a journey back to the p1 pedestal, buckle up

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests )

The session had been uneventful so far. The damp patches on track were finally drying, leaving behind a silver sheen of residual moisture that made the curbs look deceptively inviting. You were leaned against the garage wall, half-zipped into your race suit, watching the big screens with that familiar, quiet focus.

Everything’s running smoothly.

Until it isn’t.

“Red flag.”

Your heart jolts before you even see it. Then the cameras cut to Max’s Red Bull, beached in the gravel at Maggotts-Becketts, the car lodged at an awkward angle, front wing detached and half-buried.

Your stomach tightens. That’s not an easy place to crash.

The replay rolls almost immediately.

He comes through Maggotts fast, carrying speed into the esses. You can see the exact moment it goes wrong—the rear stepping out just slightly, unsettling the car. He corrects, the front catches, but by the time he’s turning into Becketts, it’s already too late. The car snaps violently, sending him skidding sideways into the gravel, the force enough to jolt his hands against the wheel.

Shit.

Before the radio even crackles, you already know.

“Ugh. I think I hurt my wrist.”

You push off the garage wall, already moving.

“I’ll be back before the red flag ends,” you throw over your shoulder, not waiting for permission.

No one stops you.

They know exactly where you’re going.

The energy inside the medical center is eerily calm—like this is just another Friday bruise, another driver reluctantly tolerating a check-up while secretly planning his escape.

Max sits on the edge of the examination bed, his wrist already wrapped in stiff white bandages, an ice pack balanced against it. He scowls at the medic adjusting the sling, as if sheer annoyance could will his injury away.

“This is bullshit,” he mutters.

“You sprained your wrist, Verstappen,” the doctor replies, entirely unimpressed. “You’re not driving like this.”

Max’s scowl deepens. He wants to argue—of course he does. But even he knows better than to fight a medical ruling.

You lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him stew in frustration.

“Dramatic much?”

Max looks up at you and immediately rolls his eyes, but—despite himself—his good hand extends toward you, palm up, waiting.

“I don’t need your commentary,” he grumbles.

“Oh, please,” you tease, walking forward to take his hand, your fingers lacing through his as you sit beside him on the bed. “You were one step away from breaking out the sad violin.”

Max huffs, but the corner of his mouth betrays him—a twitch of amusement, small but there.

He watches you for a second, something unreadable in his eyes, before tilting his head slightly, lips quirking into something dangerously close to a pout.

“Can I have a kiss at least?”

You pretend to consider it, but the answer was always yes.

Your free hand comes up to cup his jaw, thumb brushing his cheek as you lean in, pressing your lips softly to his. He exhales against your skin, tension easing for just a moment as you linger there, your foreheads nearly touching when you pull away.

But reality settles back over the moment like a weight.

Max won’t be racing this weekend. And that means someone else will have to take his seat.

You already know where this is going.

The Offer

The air in the briefing room is stale with boredom, the kind that settles in when a group of highly competitive people are forced to sit still and listen.

Drivers are scattered across the room in folding chairs, some half-draped over armrests, others bouncing their legs impatiently. Max’s absence is felt, but barely acknowledged—this is Formula 1, after all. Someone crashes, someone else takes their place.

The stewards are wrapping up when you notice Helmut Marko moving toward you.

He doesn’t bother with pleasantries. He never does.

“Yn,” he says, quiet, direct, clinical. Like your name is an inconvenience to say. “We want you in Max’s seat.”

It’s not a loud announcement, but it’s heard.

A few heads tilt slightly. Lando, Charles, Lewis—they aren’t staring, but you can feel them listening, waiting, pretending not to eavesdrop.

You take a breath before answering.

“No.”

Helmut blinks. His brows furrow, deep wrinkles cutting through his already weathered face.

“No?”

It’s not disbelief. He never wanted you in that seat anyway. But he has to make the offer because Max insisted.

You meet his gaze evenly. “I appreciate the offer,” you say, measured, careful. “But I’m staying in my car.”

You could do it. You know that. But it wouldn’t mean anything. Jumping into the Red Bull for one weekend wouldn’t be proving anything.

Outperforming the guy who gets the opportunity instead? That’s validation.

And, more importantly—you know who deserves that seat.

You glance at Liam, the F2 graduate turned reserve driver standing nearby, trying and failing to look like he’s not listening.

“Put Liam in the car.” You pat his back as you turn to leave. “He’s earned the chance.”

Helmut doesn’t argue. He just studies you for a moment, unreadable, before nodding once and walking away.

He’s relieved. He never wanted to give you the shot. A woman? A non-white woman? In his Red Bull?

Not unless he had no choice.

Lando leans over as you pass him, grinning like he’s enjoying the drama.

“That was either really brave or really stupid.”

You grin back. “We’ll see.”

The lights go out, and chaos erupts.

You launch off the line from P7, reacting on instinct as the grid surges forward. The track is still a little green from the weekend’s rain, and the air is thick with tire smoke and the roar of engines, but none of it matters. You see gaps.

You take them.

Turn 1: You dive up the inside of George, your car skimming centimeters from his as you slip past before he can shut the door. He’s late on the brakes, trying to hold the outside, but you hang him out to dry, forcing him wide and seizing P6.

Ahead, Carlos and Lando are battling hard. Too hard.

Turn 4: Carlos sends a move that’s too aggressive, locking up slightly. Lando sees it coming and bails out to avoid contact, but in doing so, he hesitates—a half-second of indecision.

It’s all you need.

You send it.

A bold move, threading the needle between them, your tires nearly kissing Lando’s sidepod as you take the inside line. You beat them both out of the corner.

P5.

The race is long. Grueling. You fight for every inch.

Your radio is alive with calls from the pit wall, but your mind is locked in—focused on the tire degradation, the shifting wind, the dance of ERS deployment. Every decision has to be perfect if you want to keep this position.

Lap 17: You pit early, covering an undercut threat from George. The VCARB crew is flawless—2.4 seconds, barely enough time to breathe. You exit the pit lane just ahead of the train of midfielders who tried to overcut you.

By lap 30, you realize something.

Liam is struggling.

You hear snippets of his radio complaints over the broadcast in your ear: “No grip, no traction, I’m sliding everywhere.”

The Red Bull is faster, but it doesn’t drive itself.

Meanwhile, you’re flying.

Your tires are holding up, your pace is relentless, and every lap you see the gap between you and the frontrunners hold steady—not gaining, not losing. You’re exactly where you need to be.

Lap 42: Danny is ahead in P3, defending like his life depends on it. It’s a three-way fight with Charles and Lewis, and you watch the battle unfold, knowing you don’t have the straight-line speed to catch them.

That’s fine.

Your job isn’t to fight for a podium today.

Your job is to make a statement.

Final lap.

The track feels like it’s vibrating, the roar of the grandstands drowning out your own heartbeat. Your tires are screaming, your body is exhausted, but you hold it together.

The checkered flag waves.

P5.

As you roll down the cool-down lap, still catching your breath, you key the radio.

"Where did Yuki finish?"

There’s a pause, then a crackle. “P6, right behind you.”

You smile. Good.

"And Liam?"

Another pause. “P11. No points.”

You close your eyes briefly, absorbing that.

Danny is on the podium in P3, and Liam—the guy who got the seat you turned down—is outside the points.

The headlines tomorrow won’t be about Liam stepping up for Max.

They’ll be about you.

And, more importantly—Max will notice too.

You don’t see it happen, but you hear about it later.

The door to the Red Bull hospitality snaps open, practically swinging off its hinges. Max strides in, his eyes burning with barely contained fury. His arm is still in a sling, but it does nothing to temper the storm of energy that surrounds him. Every step he takes seems to echo in the room, every bit of space shrinking with his intensity. He doesn’t need to say a word; the air practically crackles with the fire inside him.

He walks past a few startled faces, hardly acknowledging the presence of anyone else. His destination is clear: Helmut Marko, who’s perched at his usual spot, looking over a tablet in the corner. He doesn’t even raise an eyebrow when Max approaches, already expecting whatever is coming.

Max slams a hand onto the table in front of him, the force of it making the tablet shake. He stands there for a moment, his gaze sharp, like he’s trying to bore into Helmut’s very soul. “I don’t care what Yn said,” Max growls, his voice a low rumble. “I want her in my seat.”

Helmut doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even look up, the seasoned strategist in him already navigating this conversation. “She refused.”

Max’s teeth grit, his jaw tightening with frustration. “She was being polite,” he argues, his voice sharper now. “You know as well as I do, Yn’s the only one who can fill my shoes. No one else can match the intensity, the pace. No one else has what it takes.”

Helmut sighs, slow and deliberate, his fingers tapping against the screen of his tablet as though he’s mildly amused by the entire exchange. “We’ll see about that,” he says, the words dripping with that familiar, calculated tone.

Max’s fists ball at his sides. He wants to scream, to lash out, to tell Helmut how blind he’s being, but he knows it’s no use. When Max Verstappen makes up his mind, nothing can stand in his way. Not even the quiet resistance of a man like Helmut Marko. He’s seen enough of this game to know how it’s played.

Max clenches his jaw, the muscles twitching under the skin. He’s not done. Not by a long shot. If he has to, he’ll find a way to make it happen. Because when Max wants something, he takes it. And if that something is Yn in his seat, he’ll break every damn rule to make sure it happens.

As Max turns on his heel, the silence left in his wake feels too heavy. The storm might have passed for now, but you know—it’s far from over.

[coco-loco-nut]

She’s So Gone

pairing: lando x ex!reader, charles x platonic!reader, carlos x reader

summary: all it takes is a kiss to change everything

masterlist requests open

———————

“Lando, stop,” you laugh as your boyfriend tickles your side. He is staying with you for the evening since the F3 opening race is at Silverstone.

“Come on, say you are coming to my race,” he pouts as his hands still from their assault on your side.

“I’ll try. I have a paper that I need to finish first,” you can’t help but feel the mood drop as Lando lays down beside you.

“You can work on it at the track,” he feebly argues.

“Lan, I have to put my studies first. Plus, the band might want to practice for our gig next week,” you frown.

“Aren’t I more important?” he asks, and you feel your stomach twist.

“You are, Lan. I’ll be there. Just try and come to my gig next week, yeah?” you ask, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it,” Lando promises. And while you skipped sleep and shuffled things around to attend Lando’s race, he forgot your gig and gave a weak apology. He always did.

You attend the first race after your school year ended and fiddle with the team shirt that Lando gave you to wear.

“Stay just like that, you look so pretty,” Lando says, camera in hand as he takes a picture.

“Come on, Lando. I probably look awful,” you say, arms folding in front of you. Lando steps closer, pulling your arms down and bringing you into a hug.

“Of course now. How could you when you wear my shirt,” Lando wraps his arm around your shoulder and leads you through the paddock. You can’t help but feel like everyone is judging you, especially because it’s a support race weekend.

Lando ends up dragging you out to a bar after his podium. As soon as you arrive, you are left alone. You watch Lando talk to people, forgetting about you.

“Are you okay?” a voice asks. You recognize him as the driver who won the F2 feature race. How sad must you look, standing alone at the bar, so that someone you don’t know is concerned.

“Yeah, just waiting for my boyfriend to get back,” your eyes travel to where you last saw Lando, only to see him kissing some blonde girl. “I, um,” you swallow and blink back tears.

Charles’ eyes are wide as he looks between you and Lando, feeling a little awkward. He just wanted to make sure you weren’t about to pass out from alcohol, and he’s watching you get cheated on.

“Sorry, I’m just gonna go,” you bitterly smile.

“Fuck,” Charles mutters, turning to follow you. “Hold on, you shouldn’t walk alone at night,” Charles doesn’t know why he’s offering, but his gut usually isn’t wrong.

“I’m fine, but thank you. You should enjoy your party,” you a fighting to stay fine.

“I insist, it was getting boring anyway,” Charles lies. “Where are you staying?” Your silence is an answer enough. “I have a pull out bed in my hotel room, if you need somewhere to crash for the night,” he offers, still unsure why he’s offering.

“Thanks,” you whisper. Luckily for you, Charles was only a few floors from Lando and your bag was mostly packed. Your phone rings with a call from Lando, but you ignore it. Instead, you scribble a note on the pad provided by the hotel, telling him you were done.

Charles watches as your hand shakes a little, but you seem relieved. He sends a quick text to his teammate to not be surprised that there is a random girl crashing in their hotel room.

“I don’t ever think I caught your name,” Charles breaks the silence as you walk to his room.

“Y/n,” you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders, finally breaking away from Lando. As much as you don’t want to admit it, he’s been weighing you down, making you choose him over everything else.

“I’m Charles. Sorry about what happened back there,”

“It’s fine, probably for the best. Thanks for, uh, letting a stranger crash the night,” you set your bags down as you help Charles pull out the couch.

“It’s the right thing to do,” Charles replies as he hands you a couple pillows and a blanket.

After he bids you goodnight, you rebook your train home to the first one of the day. In the morning you silently put the couch back, leaving everything neatly with a thank you note. You slip out of the hotel room quietly and return home.

Once you board the train, you open the strings of texts you received last night.

Lando:

Y/n, where did you go?

If you went back to the hotel, please let me know you are there and safe?

Y/n?

I miss you :(

Y/n? Why aren’t you in the room?

This note is a joke right? I didn’t cheat! We aren’t over.

Y/n, please.

Babe, tell me you are joking.

I watched you kiss her, don’t lie. I don’t want to know how much of this has been happening behind my back.

You rarely showed up for my gigs, but I’ve made every effort to be at your races. I don’t even think you know what degree I’m studying for. This was the just last straw.

Lose my number.

It’s chemistry, you’ve always loved chemistry. You would send me the silly meme. You’re my nerd and I love you for it. I’m sorry I lied, I need you.

You feel on odd sense of peace. Out of curiosity, you look up Charles on social media, following him so you could see where his career takes him. It seems like you have a new favorite driver. In the process, you unfollow Lando and delete most of the photos of him on your profile. You don’t bother blocking him, he hasn’t given you a reason for that yet.

Charles quickly follows you back, sending you a message that he’s glad you got home safely. You send a message back thanking him for letting you crash and wish him luck in his career.

The school year held a lot of transformation for you. As you advanced your studies, you grew more confident in yourself and your little band began taking off. While inside you were still bookish and loved a rainy day with a blanket on your couch, you weren’t afraid to be bold and dress a little more daring when out.

You messaged Charles every once in a while, keeping up with his racing, wishing him a happy birthday, stuff like that. You weren’t expecting him to invite you to visit Monaco on your spring break. Sure you sent funny videos to each other and texted every so often, but you didn’t think you were that close.

“You seem different,” Charles says as he picks you up.

“I’ve been exploring myself this year, different styles, new music, stuff like that,”

“Well, I like it, you seem more confident than the girl I met at the bar,” Charles shrugs, you feel a sense of pride in it. You’ve worked hard to separate yourself from the girl that followed Lando around.

“Well you’ve changed too, mister hot shot Formula One driver,” you smile, watching him fight his own grin from the drivers seat.

That night you go out to the club with friends of Charles, the ones who don’t race in the higher formulas. It was already a little awkward meeting his entire family since he insisted that you not book a hotel, so you are hoping that alcohol calms your nerves.

“This is my friend, Y/n, she goes to school in England,” Charles says, letting the guys introduce themselves.

“How’d you meet?” one of them asks as you stand in line for the club.

“My ex cheated on me and Charles happened to be there. He let me crash the night on the couch in his hotel room,” you admit, not knowing a better way to explain it.

“That’s Charles, he’s nice like that. We all thought he was bringing a girlfriend,” the friend, Joris, says causing you to flush.

“No, we are just friends. I was a little surprised to get the invite to come here myself,” you chuckle, not able to picture yourself dating Charles. He was handsome, sure, but you just weren’t attracted to him like that.

“Well, you are doing something right. Have you been to one of his races?”

“No. I check to see if he’s won, but I don’t attend in person, not my thing,” you aren’t sure the answer he is looking for. You are sure Charles appreciates that you aren’t his friend so you can attend races, but you do cheer for him.

“You are missing out, you should come some time,” Joris says as you near the club entrance.

“Maybe,” your shrug ends that topic.

After a wild night, for the guys at least, you wanted to stay sober enough to make sure everyone left alive, you find yourself supporting a very drunk Charles back to bed.

“You know, you are a good friend. We should hang out more,” Charles slurs.

“Well, I am in university and you are traveling around the world, we don’t really have time for that,” you chuckle.

“Drop out, I’ll give you a job. What are you studying?”

“Chemistry,” you wonder how Charles will think of a job for that.

“Huh, I thought you’d be like history or something. What if I just hire you to be my personal entertainer?” Charles asks, you just shake your head with a smile.

“If you can even remember this conversation in the morning we will talk about it,” you smile as you reach his bedroom.

“Thanks. You know, this reminds me of the night we met,” Charles reaches for the handle to his bedroom as you turn to walk away, pausing when you hear him.

“How so? We were just at the club, nothing special,”

“I brought you home with me, only this time you aren’t crashing on my couch,” Charles grins as you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

“Goodnight, Leclerc,” you head to the guest room before you wake up the whole family.

The rest of the week goes by quickly, Charles shows you around and you get to know his family a little better. He didn’t remember your hallway conversation, but you did tease him for it.

Your relationship with Charles improved after that. He came to watch a couple sets of yours during breaks and you visited occasionally when you were both free, but you mostly kept up with each other through texts and social media. You weren’t best friends, but you were more than casual friends.

He even attended your graduation, something he proudly posted on his story. Charles tried to find a job for you in Formula One, something you protested, but he came up short. Turns out there isn’t too much need for a biochemist in Ferrari. You took the first good offer that came your way, but you kept your music career alive.

Everything worked out in the end, and you find yourself immediately calling Charles one afternoon after getting off the phone with your band.

“Charlie, I have a surprise,” you say as soon as he picks up the phone, your excitement radiates through.

“Well? What is it?” Charles sounds equally excited, secretly hoping you will finally attend a race.

“I am opening for Taylor Swift in Europe next year,” you squeal. Your alt style pop music was growing in popularity, quickly becoming a favorite of teen girls, and when you got the offer you just couldn’t refuse. It’s the perfect way to launch yourself.

“That’s incredible! I can’t wait to watch you on stage again. I was going to get tickets for Alex and I,” Charles says, he’s been one of your biggest supporters and has helped you get through writers block once or twice.

“I could always bring you onstage to accompany me,” you smile, imagining the crowd’s reaction.

“No way. I need to let you shine. Besides, I haven’t officially collaborated with your band yet,” Charles laughs. “Oh, when you come to Monaco, I have someone I want you to meet,” Charles says.

“Is this your way of getting me into the paddock, because you know how I feel about that,” your voice has a warning tone.

“No, although my offer still stands. Carlos just wants to meet you, apparently I talk too much about you,”

“Shocker, you talk about your insanely awesome friend. Isn’t he my ex’s best friend though?” You ask bluntly.

“They were teammates, yes, but I wouldn’t say best friends, more like just friends. He’s nothing like Lando though, trust me,” Charles says and you sigh, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Well, if he passes your tests, then he must be okay,” you give in. “And, maybe, if we keep it low key, I’ll watch the race with Alex,” you say, having thought about it.

“Really?” Charles sounds like a kid on Christmas and you start to think that maybe it isn’t such a bad idea. You aren’t the same person as the one who that last stepped into the paddock.

“Yeah, I was going to do a pop up show anyway, so why not. Why keep hiding myself, like you said. I gotta shine,” you grab your journal, starting to write lines.

“I’ll get you passes. Talk to you later?” Charles says, waiting for your confirmation before hanging up.

The water in the harbor sparkes as the sun reflects off of it. You sit on the yacht with Charles and Alex, tattooed fingers strumming the guitar. The rest of your band decided to explore the city despite having an invitation to join.

You stare at the tattoo that adorns your hand, the simple lines that lead from your pinky to the small butterfly just above your wrist. A reminder of breaking away, learning to fly.

“Wanna hear something new I started,” you ask, “I only have the first verse started, but it has potential,” you strum a random chord before singing.

“I’d be more than happy to workshop it on the piano with you,” Charles offers after your mini-performance.

“Not that it needs any fine tuning, it’s going to be a hit,” Alex reassures you. You smile and go back to playing random chords as you enjoy the waves.

“Am I interrupting?” a new voice asks, a Spanish accent cutting through the humid Monaco air.

“Not at all, we were just about to head out,” Charles stands up as you set the guitar down. He heads to untie the lines as Alex greets the visitor.

“Carlos, this is our friend Y/n. Y/n, this is Charles’ teammate Carlos,” Alex introduces you. You take in the handsome driver before shaking his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” You smile as Carlos sits beside you, limited seats and all.

“How did you meet Charles and Alex?” Carlos asks, a seemingly simple question.

“It’s a long story. Let’s just say that Charles took in a stranger when she needed it most,” you tightly smile and Carlos drops the subject.

“You are a musician, no? One of my friends listens to your music,” Carlos says and you perk up a little.

“Yes. I’m sorry if Charles blasts my music too loud,” you offer a genuine smile.

“No, no, not Charles. Well, yes Charles but not as much. His name is Lando, we used to be teammates. He loves your music,” Carlos says and you quickly excuse yourself, claiming you need to put your guitar away.

“Sorry about that. Lando is a sensitive subject,” Alex says, not sure how much to say. Carlos nods, subtly pulling out his phone to look up your social media. It’s not hard to scroll through old posts and find one or two pictures of you and Lando together. You look so different, like a delicate doll. Carlos remembers Lando talking about an ex who just cut him out without warning, but he’s starting to think there is more to the story.

“Sorry, didn’t want my guitar to be in the sun too long,” you say, sitting back down beside Alex. “So, Carlos, how is racing with Charlie?” you ask. Carlos is quick to answer and with some more questions you find out that you will both be attending the Leclerc family dinner that night.

“What a beautiful day out,” Charles says as he rejoins you, having dropped anchor. You take to opportunity to lay out on the bow of the yacht, wanting some sun before jumping into the water.

“You okay?” Alex asks as she sits beside you. You arch your brow as you look up at her.

“Why wouldn’t I be. All that is in the past, plus I’m going to the race this weekend. Jokes on Lando, I’m so much better without him,” you say, meaning every word. Alex nods, glancing back to where Charles and Carlos are chatting.

“Carlos is nice,”

“What are you getting at?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him?” Alex says and you glance back, ignoring the fluttering in your chest. “Charles wouldn’t bring him around you if he wasn’t sure how you would handle it,” her words ring true.

“He’s basically been my protector since he watched me get cheated on. Charles is a good friend. Maybe I’ll invite him to the pop up show,” you weigh your options. Maybe it’s time to move on, and so what if it’s your former boyfriend’s friend and former teammate. You’re all adults, and plenty of time has passed.

You barely notice when Alex is replaced by said Spaniard.

“It’s quite warm in the sun,” Carlos comments, breaking the silence.

“It is, I may have to go into the water soon,” you reply, eyes trained on how his muscles ripple when he takes off his shirt.

“Not a bad idea,” Carlos agrees, his tan skin brushing your arm.

“My band, Midnight Hours is playing a pop up show at this pretty popular club tonight, you should come out. Charles has a few extra passes,” you say, pushing your hair back.

“I’d love to, thanks,” Carlos hopes that you think the blush on his face is from the sun. He knows he shouldn’t find you attractive, you are Lando’s ex after all, but he can’t help it.

“Well, I’m going to swim. Talk to you later Carlos,” he doesn’t respond as his brain is slightly fried at how you say his name, he watches you walk away and jump into the water.

That night you go to the club soon after dinner with the Leclercs to set up and run a sound check. Passes to the concert sold out soon after it was announced.

“Nervous?” Lia, your bassist, asks as you pluck a string to tune it after the sound check.

“A little. More excited if anything,” you say, setting down the guitar on its stand.

“Well, let’s grab a round before the club opens and celebrate this,” she pulls you offstage to join the rest of the band.

The hour passes by quick, and you find yourself smoothing your tight black dress and fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Maybe heels were a bad option? But they make you look fabulous.

Charles nudges Carlos as they spot you waiting for your introduction. The two of them plus Arthur and Alex are close to the stage, ready to be your loudest supports.

The lights are blinding as you walk on, and the sound of cheering is deafening. Lando feels a punch of regret for coming. You look amazing, but so different from the girl he used to date. Your mini black dress a contrast from the cozy cardigans you used to live in. He can’t help but wonder if he really knew you.

Your set is phenomenal, at one point you catch Carlos’ eye and send him a wink. As soon as the set ends, your band clears the stage to party with everyone. You start at the bar though, knowing Charles will lead the charge to find you.

“Y/n,” a british accent calls your name from beside you, and your mood sours.

“What do you want, Lando?” you hold your cup a little tighter.

“Your set was incredible. I’m sorry for everything, what I did wasn’t cool,”

“You’re right, it wasn’t. Cheating on me the getting with her two weeks after I broke it off? I felt like shit, you made me feel like shit. You never wanted to come to one of these before, why show up now?” you scoff, barely able to look at Lando.

“I miss you, you look hot and I want to try again. I can be better,”

“But I’m better without you. I’m stronger, prettier, well off, and I really don’t need you,” you start seeing red.

“Mate, you should leave,” Charles stands beside you.

“How do you know Charles?” Lando’s eyes widen.

“He helped me when you were too focused on kissing the first blonde girl who batted her eyes at you,” you seethe. You feel a hand, larger than Charles’ rest on your shoulder. “Stay, go, do whatever you want. Just leave me alone,” you stare Lando down.

“It’s for the best, Cabrón,” Carlos says from behind you. Lando just nods and walks away.

“Chemistry,” he yells back at you before disappearing into the crowd, you feel a bit sick to the stomach. The last texts you sent him flash through your mind.

“You okay? What did he mean by that?” Alex asks as Arthur orders a round of shots.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It doesn’t matter what he meant, fuck him,” you take a drink, steeling yourself.

“Okay,” she sounds convinced enough as she turns to Charles.

“Hermosa, you can do so much better than him,” Carlos says, lips near your ear.

“Aren’t you his friend?”

“I know that whatever he did is fucked up, and he doesn’t deserve you. He’s too childish for you,” you feel your body flush with heat as he brushes against you.

“Bottoms up,” Arthurs yells, as you all grab shots.

“To a wonderful performance, and an even better night,” you cheer before throwing it back.

You wander around the club, dancing with your band and meeting fans before you find yourself dancing with Carlos. His hands hold you close to him. You tilt your head up, looking at Carlos under the club lights. He finds his hand wandering up to the back of your neck, pulling you close and kissing you. Your arms wrap around his neck, content with your situation.

“Alright lovebirds, time to go,” Arthur interrupts you, giggling at your flushed appearances. Carlos stays close to you as you follow Arthur to where Charles and Alex are waiting with your guitar.

For the first time in a very long time, you are excited to be at the track. You weren’t scared anymore, and it’s a powerful feeling. You don’t even mind Ferrari taking pictures and posting you as a guest, fans of Charles know who you are anyway. They’ve been in your comments begging you to attend for a long time.

“I gotta go do an interview, mind keeping Y/n company?” Charles asks Carlos, who’s been acting like a teenager with a crush all day.

You are standing not too far away, talking with an engineer about something. Carlos thinks you look beautiful, and he loves how excited you seem despite it only being FP1. The engineer excuses himself as Carlos approaches and for the first time of the day, you feel nervous.

“Have you seen an F1 car before?” Carlos asks, you simply shake your head no. “Well then, let me show you.” For a split second you wonder if this is what you were like when you showed Charles the lab you work in. You let him discuss aerodynamics and downforce, but you can’t help but let yourself geek out too.

“You know that I did study thermodynamics right? I actually helped Charles understand some of the tire compounds,” you smile, holding back a laugh.

“Really? I didn’t realize you studied, um,”

“Chemistry. My masters is in biochemistry, but during my undergraduate studies I worked in a materials lab,” your cheeks blush as you speak. You don’t know why, you aren’t really embarrassed. Maybe you are scared he will think differently of you.

“Really? That’s so cool, I just assumed you are a musician full time,” Carlos says before adding an afterthought. “Being that smart is pretty hot,”

“Thanks,” you laugh, not expecting his addition. “Maybe one day soon I will perform full time, but I really enjoy working in a lab,” you shrug, happy with where things are at. You can’t reveal where you will be a year from now, but it does make you a little sad to know that your life will change forever and your nerdy side will be left behind.

You and Carlos quietly flirt throughout the rest of the race weekend. Charles secretly hopes that your crush on his teammate would make you come to more races, but instead you throw yourself back into the band. You had to prepare for your growing popularity, finding an agent and professional support for things that your band wasn’t able to manage.

You end up quitting your job soon after, able to be stable enough with the new revenue streams from the band. It didn’t help that your band kept getting booked and you needed to be more serious about performing.

Carlos did find himself texting you frequently and even visiting you in England over the next few weeks.

One of those nights he finds himself relaxing in your apartment as you grab takeout from the delivery driver. It hits him how domestic and right it feels.

“What’s on your mind?” you ask as you sit beside him, eyes full of curiosity.

“You,” he says as he wraps his arms around you. “How much I want you to be my girlfriend,” you don’t think you’ve seen Carlos so nervous.

“Really?” you hum as you lean into him. You can’t deny that you are nervous. You haven’t even thought about dating someone since your breakup, and you weren’t expecting that question so soon.

“You don’t have to answer right away, I know it’s not an easy one,” Carlos senses your hesitation and running mind.

“Yes, my answer is yes,” you answer before your mind can think about it more, knowing you are making the right choice.

And so, you quietly date for the next year, waiting for the right moment to go public. You do attend races a little more frequently, but usually under the guise of being Charles’ guest.

You did get invited to a race as a guest of Ferrari, well, the whole band did. You were asked to take part in the races C squared video too.

“This weeks challenge is a highly requested one. How many songs by Midnight Hours can you name?”

“Mate, no. Charles is friends with the lead singer, he knows everything. This is so unfair,” Carlos groans, keeping his cover.

“That is true, I’ve known Y/n for a few years. Sorry, Carlos, you might as well take the loss now,” Charles smiles, ready to win.

“The rules are simple, we will play thirty seconds of a song and the first to guess it correctly wins,” you watch them carefully, trying to hide your laughter each time. They still don’t know you are in the room.

Carlos wins 3-2, Charles being too slow or guessing the wrong song.

“I’m a little disappointed, Charles. You forgot about the song you cowrote,” you shake your head as you appear in the frame. “Friend status revoked, Carlos is my bestie now,” you grin wider as your eyes meet Carlos’.

“But I’ve known you longer, you wouldn’t even know Carlos if it weren’t for me,” Charles protests. Carlos drapes an arm over your shoulders.

“Sorry, Charles, she likes me more now. I know her music better,” Carlos looks down at you with a soft smile while you laugh at Charles. To the general eye, it looks like you are two friends, but Charles can tell how enamored you are with each other. He just hopes that you will be able to share it with the world soon.

That moment comes in Australia. Your boyfriend won while recovering from surgery, you couldn’t help but kiss him, even if cameras were focused on you. The frenzy around your new relationship died down not to long after, some people brought up your past with Lando, but most dismissed it.

Fans posted many edits displaying the subtle clues you and Carlos gave. The way you gravitated towards each other, how you looked at him differently than Charles, the way you leaned into each other’s touch and always hugged for a little longer than others.

Unfortunately, You didn’t see Carlos as much once April hit. Carlos being busy with racing, you preparing to go on your first tour with the band, it didn’t leave much time for in-person dates. Video calls were great, but you missed the physical presence of Carlos. You anxiously awaited the day that Carlos, Charles, and Alex would attend the show, you even got Pierre and Kika passes to your tent.

For the first time, you feel nervous to take the stage. You’ve been practicing a new song with the band, your friends and Carlos were in the crowd, and you got a text from a friend warning you that Lando was spotted in attendance. The long awaited day finally arrived, and it’s proving to be quite the event.

“We can delay debuting the song,” Lia says as you tune your guitar, giving you an out if everything is too much.

“No way, We’ve been waiting for a year now to release it. No point in waiting any longer,” you start to hype yourself up. After a quick meeting with the band, you receive your cue from the stage manager. A few songs in you nod to the band, letting them know it’s time.

“If it’s alright with you, we’d like to play something that we’ve been working on for a while. I wrote this a few years ago and I think it’s time to share it with you. This is called She’s So Gone, it will be available at midnight tonight wherever you listen to music,” you turn away from the mic, silently counting the band in. The crowd loves it, and you feel a renewed confidence as you finish the set and make your way to where your guests are to watch the concert.

“That was incredible, you are actually amazing,” Carlos pulls you into his arms and kisses you softly.

“Thanks, Carlitos. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile, relaxing in his embrace.

“Not to scare you or anything, but Midnight Hours is trending right now,” Alex says, showing you her phone. Some are videos of the song, which is blowing up. Others are comparisons of Lando’s sour reaction to Carlos’ clear support and excitement.

“Seems like it’s a good thing we got a PR manager recently,” you laugh, leaning into Carlos who presses a kiss to your head.

You weren’t always a fan of Taylor Swift, but you have grown an appreciation for her after spending time on tour with her. What surprised you was how much of her music the guys knew. Videos of them, and you, dancing during the concert went viral within the F1 community. All you really cared about was having a good time and being with your support system.

The song goes viral and people notice that Charles has a production credit on it. He helped you compose the song, and to you, the song represents how much he’s helped you since that night. You find yourself thinking about it as you sit in his apartment one night while petting Leo.

“You know, without you I wouldn’t be here,” you say, a little out of the blue.

“That’s not true,”

“It is. Your small act of kindness helped me start this journey. I threw myself into my music, we became friends, you made me comfortable around racing again, and you introduced me to Carlos. Without you I probably would’ve left, licked my wounds, then take Lando back because that was the easy thing to do,” you explain, words hanging heavy in the air. Charles sits beside you on the floor, shoulder to shoulder. The past year saw the two of you grow closer.

“For what it’s worth, you have helped me too. You’ve been like a sister to me, and I don’t regret helping you that night at all,” he nudges your shoulder. He’s watched you grow into yourself, and he is proud. Introducing you to Carlos was a risk, but he hasn’t seen you or his teammate happier.

Carlos was patient with you, letting you take as much time as you needed to tell him about your previous relationship with Lando and how you met Charles. He promised to be better than Lando, and he is. He is still on friendly terms with his former teammate, but he is glad that he has you and Lando fumbled you all those years ago.

A few years later you find yourself cuddled on the couch with your favorite Spaniard, wearing a chunky cardigan and snuggled under a knit blanket. Carlos plays with the ring on your finger, happy in the moment of domestic bliss. He’s at a high point in his career and you and the band were internationally known thanks to a large tour.

“Have I told you how much I love you, Hermosa?” Carlos asks, voice soft.

“All the time, but I don’t mind hearing it again,” you grin, content to stay like this forever. Carlos pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your palm. You admire your fresh ink, his racing number beside your old butterfly.

You got the tattoo to carry him with you during shows and other events that he couldn’t be there, and now when you can’t wear your ring. You find yourself reminiscing over the proposal.

Carlos had brought you to monaco with him earlier in the year for an afternoon on the yacht with Charles and Alex. You didn’t even notice when Carlos stepped away for a moment and Charles and Alex left a few moments later to grab drinks.

You were relaxed, watching the sunset create a beautiful sky. You heard Carlos approach, but your eyes don’t leave the sea.

“Carlitos, come over here. The sky is perfect,” you sigh happily, leaning forwards on the railing.

“Not as perfect as you, cariño,” Carlos’ voice causes you to turn towards him, still blushing every time he makes a comment like that. Carlos was on one knee holding the prettiest ring you had ever seen, it’s like he took what you imagined in your mind and brought it to life.

“You make me never want to race again if it means staying like this forever, and when I do race, it’s like I’m trying to get back to you as soon as possible,” Carlos declares and you feel your heart swell. “You are my everything, mi reina, be mine forever.”

“Of course, Carlos, yes,” you try to fight the tears as he slides the ring onto your finger, standing to pull you close to him. Carlos leans down and kisses you softly. If only you could tell your younger self that this was how everything would turn out.

[buddierecs]

there was only one bed buddie fics

some of these fics have the 'sharing a bed' tag as well this list has different rated fics, so please look at the rating make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

the best lie is the truth (my best mask is my face) by: letmetellyouaboutmyfeels "the buckleys are celebrating their 50th anniversary, and maddie and buck are both expected to come. to take the heat off maddie, buck impulsively blurts out that he's seeing someone new. obviously, there's only one solution: bring eddie as his fake boyfriend, pretend to be in love with him, and survive the weekend with minimal bloodshed. no problem, except for the, uh. "pretend" part." word count: 43k rating: explicit important tags: fake dating, mutual pining, idiots to lovers, practice kissing, eventual smut sunbeam that hits at three to noon by: fleetinghearts "having multiple wedding reservations under the same name was an accident waiting to happen and buck’s just trying not to jumpscare his best friend with the rather intense bridal suite decor in their very platonically shared hotel room" word count: 3.5k rating: teen and up important tags: friends to lovers, fluff, getting together, first kiss i wanna see the stars and the planets, you too by: browneyedgirl6 "buck and eddie chaperone chris' school field trip to space camp for the week. they even get their own cabin and bed—well, one to share anyway." word count: 6.1k rating: general audience important tags: field trip, soft!buddie, oblivious!eddie diaz, idiots in love, mutual pining, fluff last friday night by: buckleybolter "or buck and eddie get drunk at chim's bachelor party, do karaoke together, and then get forced into sharing a hotel room. which only has one bed." word count: 5k rating: explicit important tags: idiots in love, flirting, love confessions, hotel sex, first time, blow jobs drowning in dreams (you're my raft) by: letmetellyouaboutmyfeels "in which buck sleeps his way into a relationship with eddie, but not in the way you'd think." word count: 5.4k rating: explicit important tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, oblivious idiots, soft!eddie diaz, eventual smut steady on his feet by: brighamvaughn "buck has been in love with eddie for over a year but isn't willing to risk their friendship to tell him. when they end up sharing a bed at a conference, buck finally breaks." word count: 7.6k rating: explicit important tags: mutual pining, sexual tension, angst with a happy ending, explicit sexual content there ain't no turning back by: 42hrb "the buddie healing road trip" word count: 28k rating: explicit important tags: road trips, future fic, getting together, mutual pining, friends to lovers, soft!buddie, oral sex, anal sex but, baby, watching you blush by: calvingseason "buck and eddie go to hershey for buck's high school reunion. the only problem? everyone thinks that they're married." word count: 10k rating: teen and up important tags: fake marriage, mutual pining, misunderstandings, friends to fiances, gay!eddie diaz a hotel room in portland (the place is not important) by: justhockey "buck and eddie travel to portland for a wedding. there’s only one bed. you know the drill." word count: 8.2k rating: not rated important tags: weddings, mutual pining, friends to lovers, getting together, soft!buddie, slow dancing, misunderstandings you can feel it on the way home (you are in love) by: made_ofmemories "buck's apartment is destroyed when an earthquake shakes LA, luckily there's always a space for him in the diaz household." word count: 23k rating: teen and up important tags: roommates, pre-relationship, getting together, fluff, minor injuries, didn't know they were dating i can see it in your eyes (do you mean it?) by: smilingbuckley "eddie hears that his cousin is getting engaged. not wanting to get set up by multiple family members on awkward dates so he can bring someone to the wedding, he and buck plan to fake date." word count: 29k rating: explicit important tags: fake dating, idiots in love, getting together, weddings, mutual pining, love confessions, practice kissing, eventual smut

[f0point5]

Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader Masterlist 2

Mr. Always Wins, so far above me in every sense - Max takes another win, and a disappointed Lando leans on Y/N

I see you every day now - Flashback to April 2020 when Max and Y/N first moved in together

All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride - Max’s podcast goes live, and Max and Y/N attend a wedding. Later, Y/N admits her frustrations to Daniel

I think he can see through everything but my heart - Max and Y/N vacation in Brazil, and Max covers Time magazine

So many things that you wish I knew, so many walls up, I can’t break through - Y/N goes to Sao Paolo to see Lando while Max heads to the UK. Meanwhile, Max opens up to Vic

This is looking like a contest, of who can act like they care less - Y/N and Lando take Las Vegas while Max is back in Europe. But both Y/N and Max keep tabs on each other through others

I can see you standin’ honey, with his arms around your body - Y/N attends Velocity Invitational with Lando, which stirs controversy on both sides of the pond

I can see you starin’ honey, like he’s just your understudy - It’s Lando’s birthday. In Europe, Max streams with Redline

Like any great love, it keeps you guessing…like any true love, it drives you crazy - Clara and Max arrive in Vegas and Clara lets Lando in on a well known secret

I don’t even dare to wish it - It’s Y/N’s birthday, but she has to deal with the fallout of Clara’s drunken confession

I think he knows - Y/N and her friends celebrate her birthday, which seems to give something to celebrate…or run from

Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch - The Vegas circus begins with a dramatic opening ceremony, followed by a gala event

Two headlights shine through the sleepless night - Y/N and Max continue to miss each other, and the weekend gets off to a chaotic start on track

I sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick - Y/N attends Martin’s set and has a vulnerable moment with Max that goes awry

I’m capitulated by you,baby, like a firework show - Max wins in Las Vegas and Y/N puts aside the awkwardness to be happy for him

And that was the moment I knew - Max hosts Y/N’s birthday party, and gives her a huge present with unexpected results

Nothing safe is worth the drive - Max and Y/N have an open and honest conversation

I woke up just in time, now I wake up by your side - Max and Y/N leave Las Vegas just in time

Meet me in the afterglow - Y/N and Max spend a day in the desert and Lando puts the pieces together thanks to fruit

We’re burned for better - Mick makes an announcement, and the world once again speculates about Y/N’s love life

When they point to the pictures - Bonus part of Y/N sharing past memories

Our daddies used to joke about the two of us - Max and Y/N have dinner with their fathers after a nervous FP1 for Max

May these memories break our fall - Bonus part where Y/N shared memories near the end of the season

What would you do, if they never found us out? - Rumours swirl about Max and Y/N…for the final time

We will be remembered - And with that, the 2023 season comes to an end

✨There was one prize I’d cheat to win - Max and Emilia attend the Longines World Champions Tour✨

[zaceouiswriting]

The new guy next door (2)

Characters: Theo Raeken x male reader, Isaac x male reader (Mostly mentioned after the beginning)

Universe: Somewhere in Teen Wolf

Warnings: Possible death

It's been a few days since your new neighbor moved in, and he's been seemingly everywhere. He's been outside whenever you left the house to get your mail, worked in the yard, or simply relaxed by your pool, greeting you and occasionally even coming over to ask if he could use the pool. He stripped down to his underwear right in front of you before jumping into the warm water. More than once, you almost dropped your cold iced tea at his wonderful audacity, which was only made worse by him swimming over to you from the other end of the pool. Like a Greek god, he'd brace his hands on the side and push himself out in one fluid motion.

He grins confidently as he walks toward you and plops down on the sun lounger next to you, water drops glistening on his muscles under the scorching sun.

You watch him make himself comfortable and relax as if he owned the place.

"You know, if I were your husband, I wouldn't leave you alone for so long," Theo suddenly states. There was no malice in his voice, only genuine concern.

You feel uncomfortable playing with a bracelet Isaac gave you for your first wedding anniversary. "Some people have to work hard for their goals," you mutter, unconvinced yourself. 

You and Isaac have had many heated discussions about this, as he's been working these oddly long hours for some time now without getting the promotions he deserves. He even has an apartment near his work, as he says he works between twelve and sixteen hours a day, three weeks a month, even on weekends. Even though it sounds ridiculous, you had no reason to distrust him since he comes back once a month and adores you.

When you feel Theo’s gaze, all you can do is dig deeper into your book and hope he lets it go.

***

Theo hadn't come over to your house for a few days after that awkward moment at the pool, although you still brought him food because you'd seen him eating cheap grub one too many times. Aside from those brief food deliveries, you hadn't spoken much.

One day, you were gardening as you watched Theo get into his car and drive away. It hurt because you had hoped he would be a friend, but now there's just a strange vibe between you two.

Just minutes after he left, you heard something strange, almost as if something had broken. However, you couldn't see anything when you looked around the house and through the glass doors. Shaking your head, you assumed it was another one of those mind tricks. This isn't the first time you've experienced something like this, especially when Isaac isn't around, since you're almost constantly on adrenaline. Although you love the view and the house, the fact that you're so far away from other people unnerves you a little.

You continued gardening until you noticed the sun slowly setting. A heavy sigh escaped as you gazed at the still largely unfinished garden. It was so far from what you envisioned, even though you had lived there for years, but you always had so many other responsibilities.

When you finally went back inside, you opened the fridge, pulled out a cold, freshly squeezed orange juice, and almost downed several glasses in one sitting before your body felt somewhat normal again.

After a few minutes of cooling down, you started preparing food, or at least tried to. You groaned softly when you saw your fingers were dirty, even though you wore gloves. "The fucking gloves broke again," I curse quietly. When I look at them, I discover many small holes. "Isaac bought cheap ones again." Anger bubbled up inside you. You couldn't believe it, remembering the last argument about the cheap gloves he always bought, even though you had to take breaks for days because they always made your hands sore and bloody. But Isaac did it again, almost as if he didn't care what happened to you.

Groaning, you went upstairs, as you now had to wash and bandage your injured hands. All your medical supplies were in the master bathroom. However, when you opened the door to your bedroom, the wooden floor of the spacious room was about a fingertip deep in water. The feet of the large bed in the middle of the room pressed against a half-wall in front of a window niche, shimmering in the gently moving water.

It took a moment for the realization to sink in, but then panic immediately gripped you. Eyes wide open, you ran through the bedroom, your shoes wet, your socks soaked. You ran for your life, only to find the bathroom in complete chaos. Water was gushing from several parts of the wall. You knew the pipes had burst without actually seeing it.

With a foggy mind, you ran back downstairs, looking for something heavy enough to tear down the wall, but you couldn't find anything, even though you knew Isaac had bought several boxes of materials and tools for just about everything. 

But then you remembered Theo and his previous work as a handyman. Without even thinking about it for a second, you ran over and knocked frantically on his door, but no one answered. You banged on his door, rang the bell—everything, but no one answered.

So you left the porch and looked through the windows but still couldn't find him anywhere. You continued walking around his house until you'd made a complete loop, only to find his parking space empty. Suddenly, you remembered seeing him drive away earlier, something you'd forgotten in your panic.

"Shit!" you cursed again under your breath, your head spinning with stress. 

You ran back to your house, witnessing the water already flowing down the stairs. Having no other choice, you searched for something heavy and finally found an old lamp your grandmother had given you before she died. You pounded the base against the bathroom wall until it gave way. You could throw the lamp away now, but thanks to it and the walls weakened by the water, you could tear a hole in the wall that could easily be widened again with your hands.

Despite pain and exhaustion, you struggled against the wall but couldn't find the spot with the burst pipe. You slowly lost your mind and only noticed the tears streaming down your face when you tasted the salt on your tongue.

Frustrated, you just wanted to sit down and watch your house being destroyed. The sound of the rippling water almost drowned out everything else. But then, as if by divine intervention, you heard the sound of a pickup truck driving down the road.

Your eyes widen as you realize you've heard the noise before. Without hesitation, but with the resistance of the water, you trudge through it, your feet heavy from your now-soaked shoes and socks. You threw open the front door and waved to Theo, who had just gotten something out of the trunk of his car. He turned to you in surprise but waved back.

He stopped unloading and walked leisurely over. "Hey, (Y/N), I was in town to pick up a few things. I had to drive to several stores to—"

"I need your help!" You interrupted his story, even though you loved to listen to his voice. He looked stunned for a moment but then gazed at you expectantly. "One of my pipes burst, and my whole house is flooded!" I almost screamed.

He seemed alert and walked toward your house with long strides without saying a word. For a moment, he stood inside your front door, staring at the rising water level.

"Have you turned off the water yet?" he asked serenely, almost too calmly. It felt strange until I remembered he was a handyman.

“What do you mean?“

"The water valve..." He looks perplexed. "Don't tell me you didn't turn off the water immediately."

Now he seemed panicked, looking around frantically before taking off his shoes and socks, putting them aside, and going inside, only to walk right back out again.

"Can you turn off the power from outside or something?" he asked, worried. But that only confused you more.

“No,” you told him, “it’s in the basement, just like the water valve.”

Theo sighs in despair. "If I die of electrocution, you pay for the funeral!" His deep voice rumbled angrily, but he went back into the house anyway.

Concerned, you followed his moving figure, unsure of what he meant. Nevertheless, you followed him, hoping to help him somehow. At the very least, you could show him the way to the basement. But when you opened the door, water poured out. Devastated, you looked down into your completely flooded basement.

Just by looking at it, you knew everything down there was destroyed, from family portraits to childhood belongings you wanted to give to your future adopted or surrogate children.

You felt empty, somehow broken. Theo grabbed your shoulders, his lips moving, but your thoughts were too far away; not even shaking could free you from this strange numbness. Suddenly, your head jerked to the side, but Theo pushed it back. You felt a burning sensation in your cheek, but it didn't truly hurt.

“Tell me where the valve and the electric lever are!” He orders sternly, but his voice is filled with compassion and desperation.

"The power lever is just behind the stairs, around the corner, in the wall. The valve is down the left corridor, behind the power lever to the end, and then the water thing is on the left again," I tell him, stammering.

Theo nodded, ripped almost all his clothes except his underwear off, and jumped into the water, gracefully diving over the railing. Just a moment later, all the lights in the house went out. You waited for Theo to come out. But you can't see anything. As you stepped closer, you hoped you'd simply lost track of time, but as another moment passed, fear gripped you. You wondered if you'd accidentally sent your new neighbor, that hot guy, to his death.

"Theo?" you cried, hoping he would magically resurface from the water, but nothing, only an eerie silence. Fear spread through your heart, and the pain that someone had died because you hadn't looked when you heard that strange noise earlier.

Your hands began to tremble. "Theo?" you called again, your voice shaking, uncertain, and lost in thought. Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes as your lips twisted into a grimace of pain and realization.

Grief had never been your strong suit, but now that it was your fault, you felt despair for the first time. It was heavier than you had ever imagined. You almost fell back because of the weight it placed on your shoulders.

No longer able to watch the deep water that swallowed a good man like Theo, you turned away and let your emotions run wild, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Without this air bubble, I would probably have drowned!” a deep, chuckling voice suddenly echoes through the house.

You thought you'd just imagined the voice, like so many times before, and that's why you hadn't turned around because you didn't want to see something that wasn't there. Only when you felt a cold, clammy hand on your shoulder and a deep voice asking if everything was okay did you finally turn to the person behind you.

Eyes wide and tearful, you stared into Theo's proud face. For a moment, your gaze wandered over his muscles, over which drops of water cascaded like sensual waterfalls but quickly returned back to his face. To ensure he was real, you touched his cheek before bursting into sobs again and lunging at him, nearly sending you both into the deep water behind him.

"Wow, it's all good; I just needed a moment longer." Theo's chest growled, and another soft laugh made his wet, cold skin comfort my hot cheeks. "Whoever built this house was a genius," Theo gushed. "There's a drain hole next to the valve. It was jammed, so it took me a moment to pry it open."

When I realized he had all the time in the world but almost drowned because he just had to open the thing in one breath, my head almost went numb. I lightly slapped him a few times on the chest.

“I was afraid you died because of me!” you cried.

Theo stood there, stunned, his arrogant bravado crumbling into a gentle, sincere, caring expression. He took you in his arms and held you tightly.

When they separated, the water level in the basement had already dropped slightly.

"Let's get out of here. You can sleep in my house until yours is dry and repaired." Theo didn't offer but rather commanded. You didn't hear his tone, as you were too desperate, but you agreed anyway, knowing you couldn't stay there.

"But how do we get the water out of the second floor? If we leave it there, won't the wooden floor and furniture be destroyed?"

He ruffled your hair. "Don't worry, I have equipment at home that can do that for us. I run extension cords from my house, set up all my equipment, and even take the time to reposition them throughout the night."

“You don’t have to—” I try to interject.

But Theo puts his arm around your shoulders. "Don't even try, we're neighbors! Who would I be if I let you suffer when I could help you so easily?"

“But you can cook for me and help me with little things around the house if that makes you feel better,” Theo offers you, gently stroking your belly with his free hand.

All the touching made you dizzy. Since you were with Isaac and moved out of there, you weren't used to receiving so much attention. Your cheeks were flushed, and you couldn't look up. You fumbled with your fingers as Theo led you out, watching him smile brightly from the side.

But it wasn't a smile, but a triumphant grin that would send chills down the spine of anyone who saw it. There was also a strange glint in Theo's eyes; you couldn't see it.

[Masterlist]

[princessmaybank]

OKAY LAST ONE I SWEAR I MEANT TO SPREAD THESE OUT OBER TIME

🍒 cherry red !

6 and 9 (dirty number not intended) with jj ! 💋

Finally, the last request from my celebration! I'm so sorry it took this long, I hope you enjoy it my love!

Come Crawling Back

Pairings: Rafe x Fem!Reader, JJ x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Oral (Fem. receiving), Edging, Fingering, etc.

Summary: Rafe can't satisfy you, so JJ will.

Author's Note: This one was kinda quick with smut, but I hope you all like it nonetheless!

"Oh fuck...oh fuck... FUCK-" I grunt after I feel Rafe pull away. His tongue perfectly swirled around my hole and his teeth bit at my clit with the most pleasurable pain. But he had to fucking PULL AWAY.

I huffed as he sat there, chuckling to himself. "It's called edging baby." He spoke. "It's called bullshit Rafe." I said standing up and pulling up my panties. My skirt followed as I fixed my hair and shirt. "Hey where ya goin? I'm not done with you!" He yelled as I walked out. This must have been the thousandth time this man has tried this whole 'edging' thing and the thousandth and one time I've told him I'm not into it. "To JJ's! At least I know he'll give me a good orgasm!" I yell out the door and walk to my car. JJ and I haven't done anything in a long time, but Rafe didn't need to know that. "Don't come crawling back to me bitch!" He slammed the door. I think Rafe and I just broke up..

Not literally cause we were just hooking up, but damn it's been a few months. I mean I have been looking for a reason to break it off, but I didn't expect it to be over this, and this soon. As I was driving to the chateau, I realized last time I talked to JJ, he wasn't thrilled about my 'adventures' with Rafe. I only told him about it last weekend when we had a small party at the chateau. I was drunk and I guess I felt like I was at confessional. JJ hasn't talked to me much since. It definitely made things a bit more awkward between us.

JJ and I used to have a friends-with-benefits relationship. It was great until one day he decided to end things because he felt like he might catch feelings and ruin our friendship. I told him nothing could ruin us, but he wasn't swayed, so we ended things. We were awkward for the first week or so but then we were the best of friends. Well until last weekend.

I pulled up to the chateau and realized I had no plan. What the fuck was I going to do? Just say that I haven't been able to cum and I need help from my best friend that is upset with me at the moment? No. I don't think so.

I walked into the chateau and was greeted by my friends. They were all sitting around the living room, watching a movie. Everyone shouted their own 'hello's' and 'how the hell are ya's'. I respond to all of them before they tell me to watch it with them.

"There's room next to JJ on the couch babe!" Kie yelled from the floor. Of course that's where I get to sit. I made my way to the couch and was getting ready to sit but JJ moved. Not away from me, he moved away from the arm of the couch so I could have that spot. He knows that's my favorite place to sit. I gave him a small smile and I got one back before sitting down.

JJ offered me his blanket but I didn't want him to get cold so I said I was fine. He clearly saw me shivering and he shared the blanket with me. Maybe I didn't have to think of what to say to him. We were okay. There's a slight tension but we are headed in the right direction which is all that matters.

I was still on edge from my rendezvous with Rafe earlier. I couldn't sit still and JJ seemed to notice. "Can you sit still please?" He whispered in my ear. "I'm trying.." I whined into his ear by accident. I immediately blushed and he adjusted next to me while clearing his throat.

"What's up with you?" He asked. I shook my head 'no' trying to put my attention back on the movie. JJ scooted closer to me and whispered in my ear. "I've fucked you multiple times, Y/N..I know when you're horny." His hand found my thigh under the blanket and slowly rubbed up and down. "I-I'm not." I don't look at him. His hand starts to get closer to my heat before I jump up. "I have to go! Xena needs to be let out!" I used my dog as a cover up. I walked outside and not too long after, JJ came out too. "I'll see you later Jay.." I walk to my car and open the door before it's slammed shut and I'm spun around and pinned against my door. "W-what-" I was cut off by JJ's lips.

He pulled back before opening the back door and helping me in there. He got on his knees in front of me and pulled my skirt, along with my panties, down my legs and threw them in the trunk. JJ spread my legs and licked his lips when he noticed how wet I was.

"Who did this to you?" He teased.

"R-Rafe, he's been liking to edge me recently... actually called it off because I was getting sick of it." I huffed. "Poor girl.. he wouldn't let you cum?" He teased as he rubbed the inside of my thigh. I shook my head no. "Well I'm feeling nice today, I'd love to help you out." He pulls my hips forward and lowers his tongue to my heat. "oh- shit.." I gasp and throw my head back. I feel his lips leave mine before he speaks.

"Ah ah ah, eyes on me babygirl." JJ looks me in the eyes as he pulls my chin down. He pressed his mouth against my cunt again, swirling different symbols with his tongue. "Mmmm shit-" I start to lay my head back before I feel a sharp pain on my clit. "Ow!" He bit me. "Said eyes on me sweetheart." He says before continuing to eat me out.

I do as he says and try my hardest to watch him. His eyes never left mine, even as he pushed his fingers into me. "Fuck Jay- don't stop..." He giggled against my clit. If he wasn't busy I could hear him saying something like 'wasn't plannin' on it darlin'. His tongue and his fingers sped up while my mouth was spewing moans and curses, occasionally slipping JJ's name in there. "F-fuck Jay- m'gonna c-cum.." I whine before releasing on his fingers. He pulls out with a groan and slips his fingers into his mouth.

"Good girl..." He praised and rubbed my thigh as I came down from my high.

"Feel better now?" I shook my head and smiled at him. "Thought you'd never do that for me ever again." I giggle. "Well I did miss it, and the fact that I got you off and Rafe didn't, even if it was on purpose, is giving me a complex." He laughs which makes me giggle in return. "Well thank you for your help Jay..I needed that." I smile at him. "Any time sweetheart, anytime." He smirks and winks at me before giving me a kiss. "Next time you'll have to help me out."

[imaginetheonewith]

The one where Chandler & Y/N end up having a fake baby

Pairing: Chandler Bing x f!reader

Warnings: reader is a little bit of a bi*ch in the beginning, but other than that no <3

Author's note: loosely based on “The One With The East German Laundry Detergent” (only in the beginning); also I know I have been a little bit inactive here, but requests are open.

"So, Saturday night, the big night, date night, Saturday night, Sat-ur-day night!"

Chandler's excited voice sounded behind you, before he jumped next to the sofa, almost tripping while doing his little dance. You, Phoebe, Ross, Joey and Monica looked at him from your place around the sofa, before exchanging a knowing look between yourselves. As always, the weekend got Chandler way too excited to not do anything and spend his entire day hanging out at the coffee house, before he gets home so he can watch "Baywatch".

"No plans, huh?", Joey asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Not a one", Bing sighed, taking a seat at the empty chair next to the bar. A sudden thought entered your mind and you bit your lip, trying to suppress your smirk.

"Not even, say, breaking up with Janice?", you asked innocently, before bringing the cup of already cold cappuccino to your lips. He gave you annoyed look and you bashed your lashes at him, trying to ignore Ross' snickering next you.

"Oh right... right...", the brunette man murmured under his breath, his finger moving up and down, as if he was mentally calculating the priority of the said task in his imaginary "to-do list". Suddenly his eyes widened, before he jumped on his chair and extended his arms towards you.

"Shut up" he almost yelled through a wide smile, before slumping back to his original position with a scowl on his face.

It was not a secret that while they have been dating for months, Chandler and Janice's relationship was questionable... to everyone. What was supposed to be a one night stand ended in a rapidly progressing relationship, in which Chandler has been trying to break things off almost every week, so far unsuccessfully (apart from that one weekend a few months ago). While all of his friends were showing sympathy at the beginning, you couldn't help but feel bad for Janice too. Sure, she was loud and annoying, and overly excited about everything, but she was also clearly in love with your best friend.

"Chandler, nobody likes breaking up with someone", Monica tried to reason, putting her coffee down on the table, "You just gotta do it."

The man rolled his eyes, before opening and closing his mouth a few times, trying to find the best words to describe his reasons for trying to avoid meeting with Janice today.

"No, I know, but it's just so hard, you know? I mean, you're sitting there with her, she has no idea what's happening, and then you finally get up the courage to do it, and there's the horrible awkward moment when you've handed her the note."

You almost spit your coffee at his last words, and you had to get a few back rubs from Joey in order to be able to get a gulp of fresh air. Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you eyed Chandler with suspicion.

"I can't believe you!", you exclaimed, lifting your hands in front of your face, "Are you not feeling at least a little bit bad for her? You've been stringing her along for months. She deserves to know the truth."

"Stringing her along?", he bit back, looking at you in disbelief, "She has been holding me hostage for months. There is a slight difference there, Y/N."

You opened your mouth to reply but the words stopped in your mouth once you felt Ross's warm hand on yours. He shook his head in a "no" motion, silently telling you that no matter what you say, you won't be able to reason with your friend.

From all of the people in the group, you knew Ross and Chandler the longest. Ross was one of your best friends during college and Chandler was... well, Chandler. He was a good and funny guy, yet your friendship never really evolved in anything past the stage of acquaintances. While you spend time together with everyone else, you never hang out alone and you if by any chance you meet on the street or in the coffee house, you have nothing more than a short casual chat about the weather or today's news.

It was not that you did not like Chandler. He was kind, good-looking, smart and with an amazing sense of humor. You even had a crush on him for a whole year after you met him, despite his weirdly styled hair. However, his commitment issues and inability to stay serious in any type of situation quickly made you realize that there is zero chance for something to happen between you and you are better off as just friends. Chandler has also never really showed any interest in you, other than jokingly flirting with you every now and then, but he did that with everyone so you never read into it too much.

Sensing the awkward silence, Joey was the first to break it by giving his typical advice.

"Why do you have to break up with her?", he raised his shoulders and looked between all of you, as if searching for your support, "Be a man, just stop calling."

You, Phoebe and Monica let out a groan in unison, rolling your eyes at him. While comments like this did stop bothering you a long time ago, you were feeling obliged to show your dissatisfaction at some of his relationship opinions.

Chandler looked at him for a few seconds, his mind deep in thought, but then shook his head, before looking at the rest of the group for help.

"Oh, I know, I know!", Phoebe jumped up and down of the sofa, while clapping her hands, "Y/N can join you."

Your eyes widened and you turned towards her, ready to protest, but were interrupted by Chandler, who looked more annoyed than shocked.

"Oh, thanks, but I think she'd feel like we're gangin' up on her."

"Plus", you added, "I wouldn't want to risk ending up in a poly relationship. I mean Janice is fine, but Chandler..."

"Hey!", he pointed at you, "I am a great lover."

"And almost 6 years of friendship, we are still waiting for a reliable source to testify to that statement", you looked towards the ceiling, while tapping your index finger on your chin, "Oh wait... there is none."

The moment you said these words, you felt the feeling of regret washing over you. The comment sounded way funnier in your head, but it came out way harsher than you intended it to be. And judging by the look on Chandler's face, he also didn't find any humor in it.

"Chandler, I..."

"No, no, you're right."

With these words, he stood up and headed towards the door, before slamming it behind him. You felt of the group's eyes on you and for the first time in your life, you wished there will be a sudden earthquake which will open the deepest crack in the floor, where you can spend your remaining days drowning in guilt and misery.

"Wow", Ross muttered, sneakily looking towards Monica, who silently mouthed "I know" at him.

"I don't know why I said that...", you buried your head in your hands and exhaled deeply, "Can this day get any worse than that? I am so sorry guys." The friends looked at each other and soon they all sat around you on the sofa, embracing your slumped body in their arms. You stayed like that for a few minutes, before you murmured you had to get home. It seems your Saturday was already doomed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No matter how hard you tried to take your mind off Chandler, he was the only thing you could think about. The harshness of your words kept ringing inside your head, filling you with guilt.

Why did you even said that? It seems the words escaped your lips, before you even had the chance to think them over. And the worst part was you had no idea how you can make things right. Would he ever speak to you again? Would he even give you the chance to listen to you?

Frustrated with all the questions in your head, you turned off the TV and quickly grabbed your bag and coat. You needed to get out of your apartment and get somewhere where you could have some time to think. Maybe even speak to someone... and what better place to do this than "Central Perk"?

10 minutes later and a hot cup of pumpkin latte, you quickly regretted your decision once Chandler barged through the door. In a minute of panic you quickly ducked at the front of the sofa, hoping that he has not seen you.

"Y/N?"

You cursed under your breath, before lifting your head. Chandler was sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking at you with a slight smirk on his lips.

"Chandler!", you sat on your knees, while brushing your hair on the side, "I did not see you there."

"Strange", he smiled sarcastically, cocking his head to the side, "I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that your head was buried into the carpet."

You let out an awkward chuckle, lifting yourself onto the couch. You licked your lips, trying to gather at least one reasonable excuse for the position he found you in.

"Ha-ha, you see....", you paused, letting out another chuckle, "I was actually... checking for bugs."

"Bugs?", Chandler raised his eyebrows.

"Yes!", you exclaimed, almost too excitedly, "You see I thought something bit me earlier, so I decided to investigate what it was."

The man looked at you for a minute, carefully studying your face in silence. You met his gaze, but soon felt a drop of sweat slowly sliding down your forehead. The intensity of his stare made you shift uncomfortably in your place and you let another awkward chuckle, gathering the courage to speak about what happened earlier.

"Look, Chandler..."

He lifted his palm towards you, stopping your sentence:

"Look, I am not mad. You are right, I do not have great record with women and I know that it is because of me that most of my relationships don't work."

You closed your eyes, letting out a small sign. Without much hesitation, you reached towards one of his hands, wrapping your fingers around it.

"You are an amazing, amazing man, Chandler Bing", you opened your eyelids again, only to find him already staring at you. The sudden eye contact caused a warm feeling to wash over your whole body and you bit your lips in order to stop any inappropriate thought slipping out.

"You are smart, funny, kind and an amazing friend. And while you may not have found your soulmate yet, I know she is one very, very lucky lady. Because I know I would be, if I end up with someone like you."

His fingers squeezed your hand and his body shifted towards you, without breaking eye contact. You gulped, feeling the blood rushing towards your cheeks. You have not seen Chandler like this for years, yet the feeling of his warm skin on yours and his musky perfume made your old feelings rush like a waterfall on you.

"Oh. My. God."

The sudden sound of Janice's voice made you jump apart, resulting with Chandler being on the floor.

"Chandler", Janice exclaimed, looking between both of you, "What is the meaning of this?"

He opened his mouth, but could get nothing more than a groan, so he quickly closed it again. Lifting himself, he opened his arms to his girlfriend, letting out a fake laugh.

"Janice, I am so glad you are here!", he cried, before turning towards the bar, "Can I get an espresso and two lattes over here, please?"

He pushed the dark haired woman towards the sofa, pushing her to sit next to you. You smiled awkwardly at her, putting your bag on your shoulder.

"Nice to see you, Janice! I was just going. Hope you two have a nice.... date?"

You made an attempt to get up, but felt a hand harshly pulling you back down. Looking down, Janice's red nails were firmly wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.

"Nuh-uh, missy. I want to know what is going on between you and Chandler."

"Me and Chandler?", you chocked, putting a hand on your chest, "There is nothing going on between us. I don't understand... We are just friends."

She finally let go of your hand, only to cross her arms in front of her chest and squint her eyes at you.

"Really?", her voice suddenly got higher and louder, making you wince, "So you just tell al your friends you would feel lucky if you ended up with them."

"Where is the coffee? Where is the coffee?", Chandler shook on his chair next to you.

You on the other hand could not form even one sentence. Like a mouse trapped in a trap, you could do nothing more than to stare back at her with wide eyes and flushed face. Were you that into Chandler, that you could not see his girlfriend right behind you?

Before you could form any words into your defense, Chandler spoke:

"We are dating. Y/N and I are dating."

Both you and Janice both turned your heads towards him at the same time.

"What?", you said in unison.

"That's right", he nodded, quickly wiping the sweat of his forehead with his shirt sleeve, "We have been dating for six months now."

Janice stared at him in shock for few minutes, before bursting into laughter.

"My little Bing-a-ling!", she grabbed a handful of his cheek, pulling him towards her, "I get it now! This is one of your silly little jokes! You almost got me there!"

He continued laughing, while Chandler's face twisted in pain. His eyes met yours and he mouthed "Help me", while trying to pull away from the woman's grip. You spend a second, considering if that is a good time to leave, but against your better judgement you decide to play along.

"Janice", you grabbed her hand away from Chandler's cheek, turning her towards you, "It is true. Me and Chandler are together."

"But how?", her eyes started to fill with tears, before she turned towards him, "Are you cheating on me?"

"What? NO!"

You quickly glared at Chandler, making him only shake his shoulders in response.

"Then how is this possible?", Janice kept looking between both of you, trying to make sense of the situation.

"She is keeping me hostage", your friend suddenly said, making you roll your eyes. You were trying to go along with his little story but he was making it really, really difficult. You started to wonder if you didn't do a mistake by staying here.

"Hostage?", Janice yelled, getting the attention of a few customers around you. You smiled awkwardly at them, before squeezing her hand once again and giving a warning look to Chandler to keep his mouth shut.

"No, I am not keeping anyone hostage", you assured her, "And we have not told you the full truth."

You took a moment of silence and looked at Chandler for help, but he had his nose buried in his third cup of espresso. Letting out a small sign, you've pulled Janice's hand till it rested on your stomach:

"The truth is... I am pregnant... with Chandler's child."

Your words made him choke on his drink and some of the liquid started dripping out of his nose. Janice looked at you with an open mouth, barely blinking.

"Pregnant?... What... How?"

"Well... You and Chandler were broken up a few months ago and I felt so lonely that I invited him for a movie... Then one thing led to another, and... Boom! I am pregnant."

Finally getting himself together, Chandler took a seat next to Janice and rubbed comforting circles on her shoulder.

"Janice, I am really, really sorry!"

Both of her looked at her shocked form, waiting for her to burst into tears, but surprisingly that never happened. You and your friend exchanged worrying looks, before you cautiously asked:

"Janice, are you okay?"

Shaking her head she gave a thin lipped smile, before turning to Chandler:

"Listen, Bing... I really like you and you are very nice guy, but I don't think it could work out between us. I mean you are going to have a baby with Y/N and I am not ready to be a step-mom. I really hope you understand and I do wish you the best."

She turned towards you:

"To both of you."

With these words she stood up and grabbed her coat, leaving you and Chandler frozen on the sofa. Only once she was out of the door, you relaxed back and let out the breath, which you didn't even know you were holding.

"A baby?", Chandler asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"A hostage?", you asked back, raising yours. Seeing your logic, he nodded his head, before letting out a quiet chuckle: "Oh, freedom does taste niiiceeee."

You let out a laugh, gently packing him on the back. But before you could congratulate him on his new status as a single man, Ross, Monica, Joey, Phoebe and Rachel ran through the door, almost jumping on top of both of you:

"You two are going to have a baby?"

Oh crap.

[allthingsfangirl101]

Extreme Proof – Steve Harrington

Tumblr Request by theamunsonsworld

My heart sank into my stomach when I looked up and saw Nancy Wheeler walking up to the ice cream counter. My stomach turned when I realized that it was Steve's turn at the cash register. I couldn't help but watch their interaction. They seemed. . . Perfect.

Steve and Nancy always seemed perfect. His smile was different. His laugh was different. His whole demeanor and attitude were different when he was around his ex-girlfriend. And I couldn't help but wonder why he settled for me.

I knew Steve and Nancy when they were dating. Well, I didn't know them know them. I grew up with them. I was in the same grade as Nancy and lived next to Steve and his parents. After they broke up, I could instantly tell that it had a bigger effect on Steve than it did on Nancy. She quickly moved on. He didn't.

Later that year, I started working at the ice cream shop within the new mall. I ended up being trained with Robin. Two months later, I trained Steve. It took him almost a week to recognize me as his neighbor. Once he made that connection, he put more of an effort into being nice to me. It wasn't until one night when the three of us got high while pretending to complete inventory that things finally escalated between us.

~ • ~

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Robin giggled. Her laughter made Steve and I laugh.

"Probably not," he shrugged.

"Definitely not," I corrected. "But who cares?!"

All three of us started laughing harder. All of a sudden, Robin jumped up and ran into the other room complaining about being hungry. I looked over at Steve, both of our laughter stopping. I cleared my throat and turned away from him, taking a puff. Without looking at him, I handed the blunt to him. He took it but didn't let go of my hand.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N," he whispered.

"For what?" I asked, forgetting why I wasn't looking at him.

"For forgetting you," he explained, his voice still soft.

"Steve," I sighed, finally pulling my hand out of his.

"Y/N," he quickly said, stopping me from walking away. "We spent our entire childhoods living right next to each other. I constantly looked over."

"You did?" I said, even though I had told myself not to respond.

"Every time I looked over at you, you guys always looked so happy," he said, maintaining perfect eye contact. "You ate dinner together. You watched movies together. Your dad helped you with your homework. You spent every weekend helping your dad with yard work and helping your mom with housework. I was so jealous."

"Why?"

"You guys did everything as a family," he said. "And all I wanted was to be a part of it."

"A part of it?" I repeated. "Why would you want to be a part of my. . ."

Steve leaned over and cut me off by pressing his lips to mine. My mind was too cloudy for me to make any sense of this. So, instead of making sense of it, I gave in. I started kissing him back and things slowly escalated. We probably would've gone the whole way if Robin hadn't literally fallen into the room.

~ • ~

After that night, I didn't work the weekend. Another teenager asked for extra hours and I gave up mine. Monday, when I finally went back to work, I walked in and instantly made eye contact with Steve. Before either one of us was forced to fill the awkward silence, I went to the back room and found my name tag. I turned around and was about to walk back out when I suddenly wasn't alone.

~ • ~

"Steve," I gasped. "I was just. . ."

He cut me off by grabbing my hands and pulling me closer. "I think we need to talk."

"We really. . ."

He cut me off again by pressing his lips to mine. I was clear-headed and still didn't hesitate to kiss him back. As our lips moved in sync, I let out a small chuckle. My laugh made Steve slowly break the kiss.

"What?" He asked with a small smirk on his face.

"I seem to see a pattern developing," I teased.

"And what pattern is that?" He asked as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

"From what I can remember from last Thursday," I smiled, "you seem to only kiss me when you want me to shut up."

"First of all," he started to list off, "there are worse ways to tell someone to shut up. And second, that's not the only reason I kissed you."

"Really?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Of course it's not," he whispered. "The truth is Y/N, I have feelings for you."

My heart jumped into my throat as Steve stared at me with soft eyes. "You do?" I whispered, not sure what else to say to him. "Since when?"

"Since we were kids," he said simply.

"All that time?" I stuttered. Steve smiled as he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"All that time."

~ • ~

Things changed after that. Steve took me on lunch dates, rearranged his work schedule so we were on the same shift, and even came by the days he didn't work and I did. As good as everything was for us, I couldn't shake this feeling that something was hovering over us. It didn't take long for me to figure out what was hovering over us.

When it got too painful to watch Steve take Nancy's ice cream order, I turned around and instantly grabbed the broom from the storage closet. I kept my back to the counter as I swept the floor. When I was done, I instantly started cleaning tables.

"I thought I was on cleanup duty," Robin said. I didn't dare turn around. I didn't want to watch Steve make Nancy's ice cream sundae. I heard Robin sigh before she grabbed my hand. She took the rag and tossed it onto an empty booth before dragging me to the small lounge we had back behind the counter.

"Talk," she demanded.

"About what?"

"Don't play dumb," she sighed. She lowered her voice as she continued, "I know what you're thinking, Y/N. Steve is not in love with Nancy."

"It's just. . ."

"He's not," she cut me off. "Steve and Nancy happened a long time ago. He's so much happier now, Y/N. Now that he has you."

"I can't help but. . ."

"What?" She pushed me when I didn't continue.

"I can't let go of the feeling that Steve still has feelings for her," I confessed. I looked up and saw Steve and Nancy still talking at the counter. "See?"

Robin turned around and sighed when she saw my boyfriend talking to his ex-girlfriend. "I'm sure you're reading into it," she stuttered. "I mean. . ."

I didn't hear whatever excuse she was struggling to come up with. Instead, I went to the back freezer and started unloading random things. I jumped when two arms wrapped around me.

"You know I love you, Robin," I said, trying to tease, "but not like that."

"Ha ha," Steve laughed sarcastically as he spun me around. His smile faltered when he saw the look on my face. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "Why wouldn't it be?"

I walked away and reached down, picking up a tub of our new flavor that's been selling fast. Steve walked over, gently grabbed it out of my hands, and placed it back on the shelf.

"What's going on, baby?" He asked, his voice lowering to a whisper.

"It's nothing," I stuttered, matching his tone.

"Robin told me."

My stomach dropped. I pulled my hands out of his and instantly wrapped my arms around myself.

"Baby," he sighed, gently grabbing my arms and pulling me closer. "We've talked about this. There is nothing between me and Nancy anymore."

He started to lean in to kiss me, but I gently stopped him. "We should get back to work," I said softly. I started walking out of the freezer, but he grabbed my wrist.

"No," he said firmly. "Y/N, we need to talk about this. We have talked about this. I know you think you aren't good enough for me, but, baby, you need to get passed those insecurities."

"Get passed them," I scoffed, stepping away from him. "Like it's so easy. Tell me, Steve, how easy was it for you to get past your insecurities with high school and being known as Steve "the Hair" Harrington? Not so easy, huh?"

"That's not fair," he sighed.

"You don't get it," I said, my voice breaking. "Nancy. . . She's. . . Nancy Wheeler is everything that I'm not."

"Except for one thing," Steve quickly interjected. "She isn't the girl I want to be with. She's not you, Y/N. And I want to be with you."

"You have to try to understand, Steve. This isn't easy for me. I mean. . . I've never had a serious boyfriend before and. . . Seeing you with her. . . It's not easy on me, okay? It just. . ."

"What?" He asked a little too harshly. "Try and explain it to me, Y/N."

"I can't," I whispered. "And if you can't understand it then. . ."

"Then what?" He sighed, clearly losing his patience with me.

"Then maybe we shouldn't be together."

Before he could agree with me or fight for me, I turned on my heels and ran. I ran out of the ice cream shop, out of the mall. When I got outside, I stopped for a brief second and let out a small scoff.

It was raining.

"Of course," I mumbled. I looked around, my eyes landing on the payphone. I ran through the rain toward the payphone. I grabbed some coins out of my pocket and called my brother.

"Speak!" He answered.

"Eddie," I said, my voice breaking.

"What happened?" His whole demeanor changed. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

"I think. . . I think Steve and I just broke up."

"What?!" I covered my mouth to muffle my sob as Eddie continued to angrily mumble. "I swear I am going to. . . It'll be the last thing. . . I'm gonna kill. . . Wait, what happened?"

"Nancy came into the shop today," I said, my voice shaky.

"Y/N," Eddie sighed. "Steve is not still in love with Nancy. It's all in your head."

"But you didn't see them together, Ed," I instantly defended myself.

"Look," he said gently, "I know you've had your issues with your self-confidence and with constantly comparing yourself to Nancy Wheeler, but, you gotta stop. It doesn't matter that Steve and Nancy used to have a thing. He's not with her anymore."

"He's with me," I cut him off. "I know. I know. But it's not like it was his choice."

"What are you talking about?"

"She broke up with him, Eddie," I said, my voice dropping.

"So?"

"That doesn't mean he stopped loving her."

"Y/N," he sighed. "I believe Steve when he says he doesn't love Nancy anymore. Why don't you?"

"Because why would he want me?" I yelled, finally letting out all my insecurities and frustrations. "I'm boring, Eddie. I don't have any friends. All I do is go to school, come home, do my homework, and go to bed a 9. Why would Steve "the Hair" Harrington fall for someone as boring as me? I'm not smart. I'm not funny. I'm not beautiful. I'm not enough for him, Eddie. Why does no one else understand this?!"

I slammed the phone back onto its receiver and turned around. Usually, Steve takes me home from work, but I had to get out of here. I saw the bus at the bus stop and instantly started running towards it in hopes of catching it.

One minute I was running through the rain. The next, I was falling. As I landed, I hit my head hard. I tried to think. I tried to sit up. I tried to move, but it was like I was frozen. Soon, the world started to spin. It wasn't long before the darkness took over. But right before it did, I thought I heard someone yell my name.

"Y/N?!"

* * * * *

I woke up a little while later being warmer than I was when I first fell asleep.

"I told you, Eddie," I heard my Uncle Wayne sigh, "she hit her head pretty hard. She may be out for a couple of more hours."

"She's awake," I heard Steve say with a small chuckle.

"How do you. . ." Eddie didn't finish his question when he turned around and saw me watching them. I was back in my room and the three of them were standing in the doorway.

I smiled when Eddie ran to my side. He was already sitting next to me and holding my hand by the time Uncle Wayne walked into my room.

"How are you feeling, kiddo?" He asked me.

"Okay," I shrugged. "I think. I mean. . . I'm a little confused."

"You slipped," Steve said, his voice softer than normal.

"What?" I stuttered.

"You were running toward the bus," Steve explained as he slowly walked into my room. "With the rain and the puddles, you slipped. I walked out of the mall right as you fell. I ran over to you, but you were barely conscious."

"Oh," I said under my breath. Suddenly, a thick tension fell between the two of us. If it wasn't for that tension, I would've laughed when Uncle Wayne hit Eddie's arm.

"We'll give you two some privacy," he said as he practically dragged Eddie out of my room. As soon as it was just us two, Steve sat on the edge of my bed.

"We need to talk about this," he said softly. "I can't stand the idea of you thinking you're not good enough for me."

"I just. . ."

"Please," he gently cut me off. "I need to say some things and I need you to hear them, okay? You are enough for me, Y/N. You are the perfect girl for me. I know you struggle with my and Nancy's friendship. If I could make it better for you, I would. The only way I can start to make it better is to tell you that I am completely, one hundred percent over Nancy Wheeler. I am also completely, one hundred percent into you. I don't know why you think you're not enough for me, but you are. You are enough, baby. No one is better for me. You make me extremely happy. You make it so I don't have to be fake. If I'm not happy, you know it. If I'm struggling, you know what to do to help me. I promise, Y/N, there is nothing between me and Nancy. Not anymore. Not ever again. I haven't had feelings for her for a long time. You make me happy. There is no one in this world I would rather be with than you."

With tears streaming down my cheeks, I grabbed his face and pressed my lips to his. He instantly wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. Every insecurity, every worry, disappeared as we kissed. Steve broke the kiss, both of us breathing heavily.

"I don't just want you," he whispered. "I love you."

"I love you too," I said, my voice breaking. My smile fell as I continued, "I'm really sorry, Steve. I never should've. . . I shouldn't. . . I was wrong. I should've believed you when you kept telling me you were over her."

"It's okay," he soothed. "But next time, promise me that you'll talk to me if you ever feel something like that again. Please, baby. Promise me."

"I promise."

Steve smiled as I pulled him toward me and laid down. That night, I fell asleep with Steve's arms wrapped tightly around me.

[housemdfever]

Cherry Chapstick Part 2

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

In case you see this first, I'll link part 1 and part 3

Part 1

Part 3

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

The week finally gets to end; Friday is finally here. Normally I'd be more excited for the weekend but I'm stuck going on a date with my boss. Speaking of that, I walk into his office to confirm plans. "Dr. Chase, just so I have this correct. You're coming to pick me up at my place at 6:45pm and then we're heading to the gala?" He looks up from whatever he was doing at his desk. "Yea that's right," he responds as nonchalantly as he could muster; the truth is he's wanted to go on a date with me for as long I've worked here. I simply nod in response and clock out for the day so I can go home and get ready. Secretly I'm glad everyone else said no to him, I've been wanting to go on a date with him ever since I started working under him.

I adjust the straps on my red floor length slit gown. Never did I think I would have the opportunity to wear this. I didn't want to look like I was trying to impress him but I wanted to look pretty for him. Hearing the doorbell ring, I open the door. Chase is standing there. Black jacket and pants, red tie, and a gray shirt; upon seeing his outfit, I blushed. His tie matched my dress; funny coincidence. He handed me a bouquet of white and red roses. I look at him confused and accept them. "Why would he bring me roses?" I thought to myself. After I close and lock my door, he grabs my free hand and leads me to his car; he opens the car door and motions for me to sit. "Thank you," I respond trying to break the silence; it didn't work. Before he starts driving, he turns on music. His playlist was full of Lana Del Rey; I found it really cute. The ride was peaceful, I never knew I could enjoy just being in someone's presence so much. 

"We're here," he says while parking. Once more, he gets the car door for me. I gently place the roses that had been on my lap onto the seat of his car. He extends his hand for me to grab while I was trying to get out. We make our way into the gala. Lots of people were here and socializing; to avoid getting separated Chase grabs my hand. "Come on, let's go get refreshments." He drags me to the table. I grab myself a bottle of water; I don't trust open drinks at any parties. Chase and I stand around in awkward silence. He was the one who asked me here, I guess he just wanted a girl on his arm too make him look good. This event is really fancy so I'm glad he did ask me, even if I was just invited as a convenience. "Do you come to these events often?" I ask him, trying to break the silence."No, but I figured this one would be fun." He replies not even bothering to look at me. I frown at his unengagedness in this conversation. "What are we supposed to do here?" I try once more to break the silence. "Socialize, see the entertainment, eat food, and other stuff," he responds still not very engaged. I'm getting annoyed with his standoffishness; he's so pretty but such an ass. "Well then, I guess I'll go socialize," I tell him; he doesn't seem to care. While looking for a conversation a guy approachs me, "Hey pretty lady." "Oh um hi," I respond a little shaken by the compliment and his approach as a whole. "You look beautiful, don't tell me you came here alone." He smirks while leaning on the back of chair; he was failing at looking cool, he looked more like a desperate idiot. Before I get the chance to respond to the dude, a voice interrupts me. "No she didn't, she's here with me."

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

I didn't realize there was a character limit

[xtarmanderx]

Another snippet of another WIP! (I swear I will actually post something soon, I’ve just been drained from work all week. Looking forward to a small vacation this weekend!)

~

In hindsight, Tommy thinks he should have known better than to tempt fate. He and Evan have had half a dozen talks about how to respond if either of them gets hurt on a call. They have each other as emergency contacts now, medicine allergies memorized, and have promised to follow protocol on the scene if they ever end up on a call together and one of them is put in a life or death situation. Neither of them are afraid of hospitals, but they’re both afraid to leave the other alone.

Tommy’s injury doesn’t happen on a call. He supposes it’s a small blessing in disguise. What is not a blessing is the fact that he’s currently pinned in his car and waiting for help to arrive on scene. The other driver is just a scared teenage girl, bleeding profusely from her head and holding her arm at an awkward angle as she sobs out her apologies to Tommy. A witness is with them, trying to guide her to the curb once sirens can be heard, but she’s insistent on not leaving Tommy.

He prays the engine isn’t the 118, but apparently his genie is on vacation. He sees Eddie is the first to stop as he takes in the scene, no doubt recognizing Tommy’s truck. Evan is next, his eyes widening and the jaws nearly falling from his hands. “Tommy!” He starts forward and Eddie puts a hard hand against his chest, stopping him abruptly. No doubt the man is making sure Evan can remain professional on the scene. When Evan nods, Eddie releases him and the pair make their way over.

“Hey, guys.” Tommy greets cheerfully. “Carrie’s brakes gave out on her car and she banged her head pretty hard on the steering wheel and then her window. Possible grade 2 concussion. Broken arm, too.”

“I’m so-so sorry.” Carrie starts to sob again.

“I’m fine. Why don’t you go over there with the nice paramedic?” He suggests, softening his voice and tilting his head toward Henrietta Wilson.

“You know the drill, Tommy.” Eddie tells him. And he does. With a resigned sigh, he straightens his head back out and tries to make peace with the situation. He waits for Chimney to arrive, smiling tightly at the man.

“Damn, Kinard.” Chimney lets out a low whistle. “Couldn’t even go a couple of hours without seeing your boy?”

“He’s just too handsome.” Tommy turns his head just enough to wink. Evan makes a wounded noise in the back of his throat. “I can feel all of my limbs. I can wiggle my toes. Feel the bruising across my ribs. I can turn my head, too.” He says as Chimney begins his examination.

“You didn’t hit your head at all?” Chimney asks him.

“Managed not to. I don’t need a collar, but you’re the trained one. You’ve got the final say.” Tommy says.

“I do. Buck, get him out of there.” Chimney slaps a hand against the roof of Tommy’s truck and steps back. His boyfriend wordlessly springs into action, jaw clenched so tight that Tommy thinks it could break glass. He doesn’t comment, knowing Evan is a second away from falling apart, and waits for the door to be pried open.

“Here, let me help you.” Eddie says. He eases down Tommy’s seat so that he can slowly turn, moving his legs from the car until he’s parallel to the ground. When he steps out, Evan reaches out to steady him and keeps him upright.

“The 133 is sending another ambulance to arrive on scene for transport.” Chimney tells him, offering an apologetic smile.

“I’ll be fine. Carrie needs to get seen first.” Tommy assures.

“You remember what happened?” Eddie asks him.

“She was coming down that hill at a normal speed. I was halfway through my turn when I realized she wasn’t stopping. I managed to pull a little farther into the road so we didn’t hit another car, but she tried to correct and not hit me. Ended up clipping the front and then dragging down the side of my truck.”

“Your airbags didn’t go off.” Evan finally speaks, a trace of anger in his voice.