#does not count and does not spark joy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thef1diary · 1 month

Text

Little Big Fan | Fourteen

— Little Big Champion

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.9k

Note: we're gonna pretend that Max won the championship in the race, and the sprint race didn't exist for the purpose of the plot.

"Holy shit," you murmur as the car rolls to a stop right beside Max's private jet. "Shit," your daughter repeats which earns a laugh from Max.

You shake your head and tell her, "don't say that." Luckily, she'd been so focused on the plane that she'd forgotten to wonder why. Other times, even after being given a response, she would persistently demand for the explanation, usually with "why, mama?" multiple times.

You turned your head to look at Max, who was already smiling due to your reaction. "You do know that you're about to ruin every other plane experience for me now, right?" You ask with a little chuckle and Max, being Max, nods. "Yeah, and you do know that we'll be flying private for most of the races," he said, adding, "or vacations."

"Is this your plane, Maxy?" Isabella asked, slightly leaning over your lap to look out the window as it gave her a better view of the aircraft. "It's ours, princess."

Your attention remained fixed on Isabella's expression as she took in all of the details inside the plane. Max was used to the luxurious life after travelling to so many nations in this plane. To you and Isabella, however, it was a whole new experience, and you couldn't help but feel both delighted and comforted that this would eventually become your new normal. Max hasn't hesitated to spoil you or Isabella thus far, and he has no intentions to stop, especially now that he's become addicted to the joy he feels when he does something for you or Isabella.

Once you were settled in, you were welcomed with a glass of champagne for you and Max, and apple juice for Isabella—served in a champagne flute to prevent her from feeling excluded.

This time, it was a much smoother experience for your daughter, especially during takeoff which she was very nervous about based on the last time she had flown.

Isabella was out like a light once the jet was in the air, and she was able to sleep peacefully because flying private had far fewer people than flying commercial. You and Max had moved to the opposite end of the plane to chat freely, but you could still keep an eye on Isabella in case she awoke.

The flight consisted of only Max, Isabella, and you, with a few crew members present. When you saw the lack of his team, you asked about it. "I might've told them to fly commercial," he said with a shrug.

"And they're going to hate me before I even meet them properly," you responded. While you had met a few people that were a part of his team, Max would be reintroducing you as his girlfriend.

He shook his head, "no they won't. I had to make sure that your first private flight experience was the best of the best, and that wouldn't be possible with them around."

—

You were in a completely new country, new paddock and new track but it still felt familiar since you had Max by your side. A few other drivers had come up to you and your daughter, having recognized you from the last time you were Max's guest at a race.

"I know RedBull is your favourite team, but what about McLaren?" Lando asked Isabella, who pressed a finger against her cheek to pretend to think for a moment. "I like RedBull, Ferrari, and then McLaren," she counted on her fingers.

Lando's jaw dropped, placing a hand to his chest in mock hurt, "third?" Isabella giggled, "out of ten, Lando."

"But still, what will it take for McLaren to be first?" Max interjected before she could respond to Lando's question. "Stop bothering my Bella, you're not her favourite." He was pleased to be her favourite, both on and off the track. Perhaps second to you off track because you were her mother, but he'd still consider it a win.

Lando approached the three of you a few minutes earlier, immediately sparking up a conversation with Isabella after hearing all the good things about her through Max. Lando was one of the very few people Max had told about you during the short break between races. It was strange to see Lando clad in the opposing team colours near the rival team's garage, but he had to know the two people who owned Max's heart—which were exactly the words Max had told him, albeit Lando found those words a tad too sappy.

Ignoring Max's comment even though he looked up to acknowledge him, he asked Isabella another question. "What about your favourite driver, and don't say Max."

Max looked at you with an expression that said, "are you going to let this happen?" You laughed, looking at the Brit and commenting, "I don't think you'll be happy with the answer, Lando."

"Maxy is my favourite but Charlie too," Isabella stated right after your words earning a gasp from Max and Lando. "Charles?" Max asked, surprised as well.

Max never really thought about it and certainly didn't think Charles would be her second favourite driver. He was aware that Isabella would undoubtedly have other favourites than him but just not as good as him.

"Yes, Charlie," Isabella confirmed, and at the same time the driver walked past them, stopping once he heard his name.

"Ah, hello Bella," he held his hand up for a high-five. He playfully removed the cap she already had on—which was the one Max gifted—to replace it with the one he had on his head; Ferrari.

Max leaned closer to you and whispered, "there are too many non-redbull drivers here." Hiding your laugh behind your hand, you responded, "you can't tell them to leave though, we're not in the garage." He raised his eyebrow, "why not?"

"Just look at Bella," you said, nudging your head towards the scene in front of you two. Her eyes lit up as she giggled at the two drivers who spoke to her. Lando placed his McLaren cap on her head, on top of Charles' cap already on her head in an attempt to outshine the Ferrari driver.

That earned a smile from Max, "I'm glad she's comfortable here, not many kids are." You nodded, "well she will be growing up around the tracks, either to watch you or if she decides to be like you."

Max's head snapped in your direction, "what do you mean be like me? She wants to race?" Around you, he was always expressive, so you could see the glint of hope that was beginning to form in his eyes. Again, you nodded, "she might've mentioned it once or twice but if you can't tell I barely know anything about the sport and even less about karting."

"I can help, please let me take her karting," Max immediately requested, because the prospect of Isabella starting karting, especially under his coaching and guidance, was nothing short of a dream.

"I think she would love that, but let me tell you now that it's already scary enough seeing you race so I'm not sure how I would handle it if Isabella has even a fraction of your talent," you stated firmly, earning a sharp nod in understanding from him.

Max grinned as he observed your daughter incorporating Charles and Lando into her imaginary activities. This time, the two professional drivers were passengers while she was playing the role of a race car driver.

"Oi, lovebirds, join us," Lando made a disgusted expression as he witnessed you and Max cuddled together, but he secretly enjoyed seeing the two of you together—not that he would ever tell Max.

Dropping the conversation for now, you and Max joined in on the little game until the drivers were needed by their various team members.

—

He did it; Max won the race and the world championship title yet again, for the third time in a row. As a result of his competitiveness and success as a driver, the title had already been determined with five races remaining in the season.

Behind the row of team members—mainly from RedBull and McLaren—you stood among them in parc fermé with a tight grasp on your daughter's hand waiting for Max to park the car in the spot reserved for the race winner.

Cheers and claps could be heard loudly as he stood on top of the car for a moment, throwing his hands up in celebration. With his helmet still on, he rushed towards the team standing behind the barricades, earning praises and applauses from each person he neared.

Amongst the crowd, he spotted you, and while you couldn't see his full face, you knew from the way his eyes crinkled around the corners that he adorned a wide smile on his face.

Max stood right in front of you, but yet it was still too far as a few people were blocking his view of you. Gesturing with his hands, he asked for you to be brought closer and you obliged as soon as you were given space.

He removed his helmet and balaclava which allowed you to see his beautiful face, still adorning a smile on his face but only fondness in his eyes remained as he continued looking at you.

Shoving the balaclava inside the helmet, he held it in one hand to the side while grasping the back of your head with the other. The noises around you seemed to fade away as soon as his lips touched yours, leaving you with only the immense hammering of your heart.

Parting away, you rested your forehead against his for a moment. “Congratulations, baby,” you spoke, loud enough to be heard amongst the crowd that you couldn’t care less about in this moment.

The audience begins to disperse, gathering around the podium for the upcoming celebrations. Max receives a pat on the back, indicating that it is time to go to the cooldown room, but his gaze never shifts away from you.

He knew he couldn't leave without placing another kiss on your lips, so he gave in to his desires by closing his eyes, silencing the world around him once more to focus on the delicate sensation of your lips pressing against his.

Max truly felt like a champion, because not only did he win the world driver's championship of this season but he also had you right by his side to experience the thrill of winning it all. He may have won two other championships in the previous years, but this one felt completely different; much better.

Inevitably, he's pulled away from you by someone from his team. "Go get that trophy, champion," you state, wanting to see him hold the race winning trophy now, and even the championship trophy during the gala.

Right before turning around, he focused on your daughter, messing with Isabella's hair again until she slapped his hands away. She still had a really big smile on her face, having seen Max win the race and the championship at the same time.

You still held Isabella's hand as you began the short walk towards the podium, but she squeezed it tighter to grab your attention. Your smile plummeted and dread instantly filled your heart as you heard your daughter's words, "mama look, it's daddy," she pointed at him with her free hand.

Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @wonnou @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago

#little big fan fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #fluff #thef1diary fic

873 notes · View notes

purelyfiction · 1 month

Text

━◦○◦ⓢⓞ◦○◦ⓘⓣ◦○◦ⓖⓞⓔⓢ◦○◦━

NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader

Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.

Word Count: 5,334 words

Author Note: I know I have two other outstanding Top Gun fics and I swear I'm trying to get those going but I am writing what sparks joy and well.... this certainly does. || Also!! Reader's stage name is 'Celeste' with 'Este' as the nickname. So no one gets confuseddddd

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

You'd never anticipated to start the biggest year of your life absolutely gutted, yet here you are. Your boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend, severed what you had thought to be a loving, trusting and safe relationship, rather unexpectedly on New Year's Eve. Then he'd gone to the press to relay that you were a horrible person, a terrible girlfriend, too involved in your work to even bother paying attention to anyone else. The timing couldn't be worse, since you were about to start your first ever stadium tour in the spring.

The result had been you hiding away in your little oasis that was your condo in California’s southern escape of San Diego. You’d stayed off the internet, binging TV shows that you’d been too busy to pay attention to and immersing yourself in anything you could, to erase the four year relationship you’d been splintered from. The garbage people probably wondered why there were a near dozen empty quarter pints of ice cream in your recycling bin, but that wasn’t for them to care about. At least you’d recycled them.

Now, three weeks into the new year, with your favorite Chinese on the way, you sit on your couch going over tour visuals. Your lighting engineer is rambling on the line as you hear the gate buzzer go off. You’re quick to collect your dinner as one of the others on the line gasp and quickly mute their mic. “What?” You quip, walking to your expansive kitchen and dropping the large paper bag down. You’re half paying attention when the employee brushes you off, as your hand pulls container after container of food from the magical Mary Poppins-style bag. Getting to the bottom, you grasp for a pair of chopsticks, only to find several sets of them, along with a dozen fortune cookies. You take a moment to look over your four entrees and styrofoam container of sushi. The audacity of them to think you would be sharing any of this.

Finally, you address the matter of your dramatic tech director. “What’s the deal over there Hollywood?” You chide, before your phone is ringing, leaving you to hang up the video call to answer the phone. It’s your publicist and you know better than to let her calls go unanswered.

“Check your inbox.” Her voice is frigid instead of it’s usually cheery demeanor.

“Hello to you too?” Begrudgingly, you do as she commands, finding the email she sent to you.

Jonah Carter agreed to sit down for an interview with UsWeekly, post-breakup to clear the air and to make sure no one else would fall for his ex-girlfriend's (Celeste) playful, girl-next-door-ish facade.

"At first, it felt like a dream come true," Carter, an up-and-coming actor within his own right, said almost sheepishly. "I thought she was talented and kind, but I should've known it was too good to be true."

But there's more to this pop-star than Jonah says meets the eye. In addition to the vanity and self-importance that seems to plague this generation's starlets, Este was a vindictive slob who routinely talked behind the back of even her closest friends. "It makes me wonder what she's saying about me, now, after everything I've heard her say about those who think are closest to her." The concern for others is written very clearly on the actor’s face as he speaks. When I question the songstress’ messages about authenticity, the man adjusts in his seat as he holds back a laugh.

"She'd like you to believe she writes all her own music, but I'm not sure she could write a full sentence without the help of her team," Jonah chuckled nervously into his coffee. "Sorry, that was rude. I don't want to stoop to her level." Cowed brown eyes made me wonder what else he had endured behind closed doors. It struck a chord within me.

“Why did you stay as long as you had if this was what you were facing?” I ask him. The expression of his kind features morphs into despair.

“When we first met, Celeste was someone I admired. Her compassion, her drive and her dedication to the things she valued spoke so deeply to what I did, what I still do-” he fumbles as he attempts to source the proper words, “They just… weren’t her beliefs. They were her team’s.” Jonah lets out a pained sound, “I think when we got toward the end of it, I realized that she has this way of manipulating what she says, how she acts, to make herself look good. She puts on a show, on and off the stage and you pay for it one way or another. So, I knew what she was capable of. I knew she could be that person if she really wanted to and I wanted so badly to help her see that. I eventually learned that people see what they want to see.”

God, what a load of hot garbage this was. It was a particularly rare batch, clearly it had been baking in a dumpster in the scorching sun with the lid closed. All damp, with a horrendous mix of something rotting and old crusty seaweed.

The tour was supposed to be announced on the first of the month and here your ex was selling stories (horribly narrated and mangled stories) to the press. You might as well have been kicking puppies at this point.

“Isn’t he just swell? Nothing but peak wisdom from good ol’ Jonah.” Your eyes could’ve strained themselves with how far back they rolled. Probably the only time he’d ever made them do that too.

“I’ve already called a team together to brainstorm. I don't want you to respond. Stay offline, away from all of it and don't entertain any of the discourse. Not until I have something to work with.”

“None of it is true we both know that-” You begin to laugh but she cuts you off.

“As much as I want to be on your side here, we are working to put out a fire. Your silence the last three weeks has put you at a massive disadvantage and frankly? The public eye doesn’t see you in the greatest space right now.” You know she’s right. She always is, and right now ‘Celeste’ was synonymous with ‘cynical, fake and fraudulent’. You wouldn’t be shocked if the uproar demanded you be canceled based off of this testimony.

It wasn’t all but two days later that you were called in by your PR team. Into the office in New York for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a busy end of the year and now that the new one was coming in so ferociously you weren’t looking toward any of the things you once had been. This was the first time back into the light and so you had made sure that the inevitable cameras had something to look at. You’d dressed yourself in your favorites, in an effort to boost your confidence as best as you could. Putting on a show, just like you had been when things had been on the rocks with Jonah.

━◦○◦ⓐⓝⓓ◦○◦ⓐⓛⓛ◦○◦ⓣⓗⓔ◦○◦ⓟⓘⓔⓒⓔⓢ◦○◦ⓕⓐⓛⓛ◦○◦━

Getting to the office, you’re nearly trampled with the amount of people that swarm you. It’s not normally this bad - hell it’s never this bad. It isn’t until you catch sight of a football jersey and an ESPN logo that your brow furrows. Odd.

Stepping into the building, you’re pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, looking down at your ringing phone and trying to slide your coat off simultaneously. Instead, you crash right into what you think is a wall, but is instead a broad man, looking rather lost.

“Easy there, Twinkle Toes.” You guffaw and look up at the blonde man before returning your eyes toward your feet. Of course, the bedazzled statement boots on your feet call attention to themselves before the rest of the outfit can balance itself out.

“Alright, Prince Charming, you first.” You snicker before stepping out of his way and start to the elevator. Unfortunately for you, he’s apparently heading your way as well, needing access to the lift to the next floor.

“Prince Charming, huh? I mean I’ve been called worse.” His shoulders roll backwards as the elevator dings to one of the other floors. You keep your head trained forward, suddenly remembering the rule you’d been given. Stay quiet, don’t engage. And here you were giving sass to a stranger and showing up in bedazzled booties. You were really digging this grave deeper than necessary. So, instead of giving him another sassy response, you keep your eyes locked to the neon numbers as the elevator passes each floor. “Oh so, now I’m getting a cold shoulder? Darn, I was really ready to ask you all about the boots on your feet, too.” You can’t help but let your eyes move back over to the broad male, just out of the corner of your eye. His face is completely locked on you, shamelessly at that. “They expensive? They got that waxy red paint on the bottoms of ‘em?” Silently, you turn one of your feet up to give him a glimpse at the blue bottom of the shoe. “Huh, blue. That’s fun. That more expensive than the LouButton or whatever they are?” Finally the elevator reaches your floor, hopefully shutting this chatterbox up for the time being. Yet the questions continue like an immature toddler as you rise up the floors - going to the same floor nonetheless. “Hey, you’re that Celeste chick aren’t ya?”

“Yes.” You finally answer one of his questions, his face lighting up.

“Oh look at that, she cracks.” Another eye roll times well with the sound of the elevator reaching the desired floor. Instead of responding, you quickly find your way through the glass hallways and to the desired room. You are so glad to be in the presence of the familiar group, the stranger in the elevator having rattled your composure somewhat. Your manager comes in with a cup of coffee and a smile, which immediately puts one on yours.

“You didn’t have to do that!” You cheer, reaching out for it as she sits beside you.

“When you see what Rachel has come up with, you’re going to need it.” Oh. Reassuring.

You see her point when Prince Charming steps into the board room, followed by a host of men in dress clothes and suits, all matching the blue soles of your boots. Charming sits directly across from you, a hand wiggling his fingers as he waves at you. Oh good.

“Thank you everyone for coming. I know this is a very polarizing group, so before we get ahead of ourselves, I want to introduce Celeste, or Este as we all have come to call her over the years.” Awkwardly, you wave at the foreign men. They grunt and nod. You were already having doubts and not a word had been spoken on their end. “I also want to introduce Beau Simpson, public relations coordinator for the San Diego Sea Lions, Coach Natasha Trace, and Sea Lions owner, Tom Kazansky.”

Sea Lions? As in the NFL team that had been built not even three years ago but had made it to all three playoffs in their short time? The one that Jonah had ridiculed immensely when it joined the league because ‘California doesn’t need another group of inflated egos in the league’?

“I’m really feeling the love here, Rach.” Charming speaks up and the raven haired woman on the other side of the table sighs.

“This is Jacob Seresin, starting quarterback for the Sea Lions.” The coach speaks, the blonde man brushing off her introduction.

“No need for full names, Trace. Clearly we only do the stage name around here.” That was a clear jab to you if you’d ever heard it. “Hangman’s what they call me.” His hand juts across the glass, toward you. Your hands stay tucked under your biceps.

“Pleasure to meet you.” It’s passive, turning to your team leader. “Rachel. I’m not seeing a connection here.”

“Jacob is in the same pot of hot water you’re in.” Your attention moves to the similarly broad man who stands up, towering over Rachel. “We feel as though we can spin this to both of your advantages. Jake needs to stop sleeping around–”

“Easy now, Simpson.” The eldest in the room stands up and he gives you a kind smile. It’s not a farce though. You’re not entirely sure what makes it so genuine, but you smile in return of seeing him stand, despite it taking a slight bit of effort to do so. “What he means is, Jake’s professional status has changed due to the words of someone else and we’re determined to alter that. Rachel identified this and made quite the proposal.” The young woman seems all too cheery to cut off the old man.

“You’re both having relationship woes–” The raven haired woman on Jacob’s team speaks under her breath.

“Wouldn’t call them relationships.”

“And by putting you two together, we feel as though we can put you into a positive light. Let’s face it, putting two very successful, and attractive people who are already in the spotlight allows people to follow the developing love story. Este attends games, plays the WAG card, has an opportunity to be seen in the public eye more frequently and dispels the ill-spoken words that were published about her this week. Jake gets the proof that he isn’t just a love-em-and-leave-em type.” Your eyes spell out the doubt you’re feeling, looking at your team who is just as skeptical. “That’s just the beginning! Celeste is going on tour this year. Stadiums all across the country have her booked and ready for the summer. We have a captive audience already following these games to see Este and Jake together, and we get brand recognition. The conversations that will come as she gets to witness her betrothed play in a stadium she would be performing in that very summer.”

Now you see where the benefit actually is. Clearing your name while simultaneously promoting your tour in the process. Seeing stadiums you’ve booked and would hopefully sell out.

“So how are you proposing this works? We’ll need a start, an end - a story on how we met–”

“Well,” Beau settles in his seat, twisting in the desk chair as he draws in the attention of the group, “we have the major details hypothesized. Rachel and I will work with one another to get the rest of it together. For now, you two met at a New Years Eve party.”

Oh joy. Now you get to remember that bitter break-up that led you here, every time you speak about him.

The man looks like he walked out of a surfing magazine, as it were. Now, the scowl on his features paints him as a devil. Long hair, muscular arms on display as he leans into the table in front of him.

“If we don’t do this?” Jake leans back in his chair, a hand coming to fiddle with the lingering 5 o’clock shadow that he has omitted in his morning routine.

“We don’t do this and there will be a lack of support for the Sea Lions. You’ll have painted the entire team as jackasses who can’t focus to save their life, especially if you continue to party and hook up with whomever your dick has the hots for that night-” Beau has gone off the handle and Tom speaks up again.

“The point is, public favor will stay low and it will not bode well for the team. With a lack of support, we have empty seats. Empty seats translates to less viewers, then to less money and you know the song and dance. Not to mention morale for the upcoming playoffs. We need to keep the team happy, Hangman. It’s time to do something to benefit everyone.”

Jake’s expression deepens, as though he was a young child just scolded by his father for his poor behavior. Green eyes shift and face you, his hand jutting out toward you.

“I’m in.” His hand hovers. Waiting for you to join him in this grand scheme. Glancing at your own team, they look rather haunted. At this point, it was this or to hope that a long string of possible good stories and fan interactions can redeem you.

You want this to pass. And if this would make it go faster… you grab Jake’s hand firmly.

“What’s there to lose?”

━◦○◦ⓡⓘⓖⓗⓣ◦○◦ⓘⓝⓣⓞ◦○◦ⓟⓛⓐⓒⓔ◦○◦━

You went back onto social media. Posted some photos you’d taken with friends back at the beginning of the month, from the worst party of your life. The photos at least were cute and you loved the dress you’d gotten to wear. Luckily these photos were all taken prior to midnight. So there were no red eyes. No ruined mascara and glitter across your cheeks. No freezing car rides home and empty beds.

Mindlessly, you scroll through the comments.

Flameth: can still make the whole place shimmer ✨

RunTao: phony photos

Romanacent: so glad to see you’re not letting him get to you!

H_ngm_n: you’re still gonna let me borrow those boots right

It’s the last one you’d been keeping an eye out for. Boots? Looking back at the photo, you scroll through the carousel until you spot them.

The same shiny sparkly rhinestone boots you’d worn to your meeting.

Celeste: @h_ngm_n I’m a woman of my word, of course 🤗

Not even a week goes by before you’re ‘spontaneously’ at a bar in LA. Jake has been there for the last two hours, as he insisted you both show up alone and then end up leaving together. You eventually found him in the VIP section, drinking with his buddies.

You made sure to keep your distance for a few minutes - after all, his friends had no idea this was going down. The only people who knew about this little arrangement were your respective PR teams. That was it. No one else from your teams, your friends and family, absolutely no one knew what your little plan was. Maybe you should just leave. It was a verbal contract, you didn’t sign anything, you were just trying to make this work for the two of you-

The bartender pulls you from your deliberations. There is now a drink that you certainly didn’t order sitting in front of you. Well there was no going back now. Jake had likely made a show of sending over the drink and now you had to go through with this. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the jock, legs spread, arms resting on the back of the booth chair. Green eyes lock in your direction and send a cocky wink as a garnish to your drink.

You are about to win your first Oscar with this performance. Throwing on a grin, you pick up the drink and easily sashay your way over to him and his football buddies. Some flash titanium wedding bands, some platinum. Some aren’t wearing them at all, like your date, mister 83 who leans forward upon your approach. “Well, well, well, long time no see hot shot.”

“Speak for yourself, pop star.” Jake stands to greet you, his arms coming around you, carefully as to not spill either of your drinks. You catch a whiff of his cologne when he does so. It’s rich, familiar in the way it reminds you of summers camping. Bonfire smoke and smores. Yet clean, like when you came home to a clean house, citrus floor cleaner lingering in the halls. Pulling back, you almost move forward again to sit in it. Easy does it.

“Oh come on, three weeks isn’t that long.” You chide. While most of his body has pulled away from the hug, his free hand still sits on your waist, warm against the AC of the exclusive bar.

“Technically it was a year ago.” Jake smirks before taking a sip of his drink and you want to groan. So you do. But spin it into something more playful.

“Observant, are we?” You nearly snarl as you take a sip of your drink, Jake’s colleagues standing up. The one who’d sat right next to him grins and extends a hand. He’s tall, lean but has a stunning smile as he steps your way.

“Not sure we’ve met. Javy Machado, running back, San Diego Sea Lions-” the blonde looks at his friend with an amused scoff.

“I think she knows who the Sea Lions are, Jav.” The look on the captain’s face is one of skepticism and amusement. You were here to dispel rumors. So, as much as you’d like to smack Jake for being a dick to his friend, you shake his teammate’s hand instead

“In passing. I don’t follow football closely, but I get by. Celeste.” The smile on your face is genuine as the next player stands. Kind eyes, a domestic bar of hair on his upper lip and the build of a pickup truck, he goes for a quick one armed hug. When he lets go, you have to wipe the temptation of any swooning you were compelled to do. Especially since a gold band glistens on his left hand.

You’re here for Jake anyways.

“Name’s Bradley Bradshaw. They call me Rooster.” Your eyebrow furrows as your head twists. Before you can ask, another man on the other side of the room laughs.

“You should hear him on the field when he’s sacking someone.” This one, curls and meticulously groomed facial hair to boot, leans forward and shakes your hand kindly. “I’m Mickey. That back there is Bob.”

True to his word, at the end of the bench is a long haired man, tucked into his phone and fiddling with a ring. He doesn’t seem to match the energy of the rest of the group. Curious. “Bob!” He glances up at the sound of his name, blue eyes flitting from face to face before spotting you. When he does he breaks out into a smile.

“Celeste! Gosh, wow it’s so cool to meet you! My girls adore your music.” This catches Jake’s attention, a brow popping up.

“Aren’t both of ‘em less than five?” He asks and Bob looks between the two of you.

“Yeah? It’s never too early to introduce them to great music and influential women.” There’s no faking the smile on your face as you reach over and shake his hand. When you do, you look at Jake with a ‘would you look at that’ coded grin.

“That’s amazing to hear! I’m glad they have fun with it! That’s why I do it.” You glance back at Jake as he comes behind you, hand shifting to the small of your back.

“Pay’s in the bathroom, I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime later tonight.” The quarterback gives a nod to his group, before guiding the two of you to a high top table not too far from them. When you sit down he looks at you with a laugh. “Flirt much?”

“Excuse me?” Jumping to the defense, you watch Jake roll his eyes and then look back at Bradley, before facing you.

“You were practically eye-fucking him.”

“Was not.”

“He’s happily married, leave him be.” The blonde sips at his drink and you can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s giving you a hard time.

“Right, right, guess I’ll bother you instead.” The tease is off your lips in two seconds. Maybe he was right, you were coming off strong. You huff and sink into yourself briefly. “I don’t know if you realized this, but I haven’t had ‘flirt’,” your fingers mark the quotation marks in the air, “with anyone in a while. Let alone fake it.”

Jake leans back in his chair, downing the rest of his beverage a smirk making way when he sets the glass down.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be faking it for long.”

The two of you sat at that table for probably an hour, bickering over which of the Pirates of The Caribbean movies were the best, and why glitter was a detriment to society. Another round of drinks and the football star return to the table as he laughs when he spills a little of your overflowing drink.

“No, no I assure you. Glitter originated in some high tech nuclear weapons factory to make the enemy go insane upon introducing it to an environment.” He pushes your drink toward you as you pull your hair back. Not only were you not anticipating for him to be this passionate about it, but you weren’t planning on the night going like this.

You were enjoying yourself. Jake had told you about his time at UT, six years spent studying communications no less.

It made sense when you really dissected it. Jake had the ease to hold someone’s attention: he’d held yours this long after all, and he was well spoken. Both were things that were shocking to you. He soon enough revealed the plan had always been football. Communications was for post-retirement, when he got tired out and wanted to be back in the stadiums.

Stories of his dad commentating his high school games came fondly before he asked about your background. You were a bit hesitant to divulge too much, but what you had was pretty bare-bones.

Music had always been a hobby but never a career choice. You’d planned to go into school for a degree in education, a masters in English. Go and teach for a bit before getting your PhD in some niche of the world of writing and then become a professor at your alma mater.

With the rise of social media and the multitudinous connections of the internet, a little original song of yours got popular. Local radio picked it up and then your label signed you.

“It all was pretty spontaneous, really,” you answer. “My career was in no way by design, but… I wouldn’t change it.” The smile on your face is small, but genuine as your hair falls back around your face. Tracing the rim of your glass, you keep your eyes down before a hand pushes your hair out of your face. Coming eye to eye with him, he grins.

“Guess it was written in the stars then.” His response catches you. Jake’s eyes are much softer than when you’d approached him earlier. They were dark, focused and possibly a little mischievous. Now? They were gentle. Every shade reassured you that the boisterous man you’d seen in the office and the press was nothing like the man under the helmet.

It made far more sense to you now. How he’d gotten women hooked on him. The abrasiveness and bold exterior was the casing to the real character.

How many women had actually made it past the outside?

The rustling of a fabric on leather comes from in front of you, watching as the blonde pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket.

“Please tell me this isn’t you trying to buy my affection there, Seresin.” As he stands up, pushing his wallet back, the grin carved on his face doesn’t leave when he shakes his head.

“No, no, princess. This is for the bartender. Turns out you’re not a cheap date.” His knuckles wrap onto the table briefly before he disappears. You blame the blush on your face on the humidity inside the building.

The two of you bid your goodbyes, before starting to the front of the bar to exit. Reaching the street, it’s expectantly empty. He takes the side closest to the street as the two of you head down the way, toward the row of restaurants and shops that were quiet for the night.

“Are you hungry?” Jake’s voice breaks through the cold of late January air, looking at him quizzically.

“If you’re hungry we could go back-” His hand comes to your back again as he shakes his head.

“Oh-ho, no ma’am I promise, I’ve got something way better.”

━◦○◦ⓒⓐⓤⓖⓗⓣ◦○◦ⓤⓟ◦○◦ⓘⓝ◦○◦ⓐ◦○◦ⓜⓞⓜⓔⓝⓣ◦○◦━

Unfortunately, he was right. The two of you stand in the glow of food truck lighting, beyond messy tacos in hand. He’s watching you with a smirk on his face, obnoxiously chewing the fish taco in his hand.

“Is that not the best taco you’ve ever had?” Again, his voice is filled with ardor as he watches you attempt to maneuver the soft corn tortilla that seems to be spilling into your napkin.

“It’s… a taco.” You shrug, looking down at the brown beef meal in your hands. Jake shakes his head, still chewing.

“No, no, I will not have you slander Ganso’s Tacos. Absolutely not.” He sets his red basket down on a table, hand in a vice grip around his taco. “Here, open,” he maneuvers closer and you shake your head, backing up.

“I am not eating your taco!”

“Eat it!!” The two of you laugh. Finally, you concede and take a bite of the hand fed taco. When he finally takes it back to his plate, his expression eagerly waits for your reaction. One hand covers your mouth as you chew, nodding as Jake looks like he just stole the Mona Lisa without getting caught.

“You’re right.” One singular fist to the air and he’s back to scarfing down his tacos.

“I told you. Way better than bar food. This is by far the best taqueria in all of California. And I stand by that.”

With full stomachs and messy hands, the two of you start back toward the bar, where Jake’s parked. When you do, you finally notice a car has been tailing the two of you since you ordered your meal.

The crowd in front of the bar proves that your teams were certainly on to something. Flashes of light start in an onslaught, your hand coming to block your eyes. Still, you keep walking toward them, only for Jake to grab your hand and guide you toward his car.

━◦○◦ⓛⓘⓟⓢⓣⓘⓒⓚ◦○◦ⓞⓝ◦○◦ⓨⓞⓤⓡ◦○◦ⓕⓐⓒⓔ◦○◦━

Voices shout, questions sail through the air, your name, his name, Jonah’s, more questions about football- it all gets crammed into the cacophony before the passenger door opens under Jake’s hand, guiding you to your escape pod.

The driver side door causes the car to shake with an unceremonious thud. In seconds, the engine to the sports car is ignited and the two of you are underway.

It isn’t until you get about two miles out that one of you finally speaks.

“How long do you think it’s going to take for those to show up online?” White lines on the road disappear as you head further and further from the bars and closer to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend.

“I give it maybe six hours. Four if we’re lucky.” He laughs, but it doesn’t match the hearty ones he shared with you earlier.

A sports broadcast plays lowly on the radio, both of you overwhelmed by the cameras that stimulating conversation was far from what either of you were concerned with. It isn’t long until you spot your hotel. Jake navigates into the lane closest to the front of the building, pressing down on the brakes. You’re just about to unbuckle when he pulls back out into the other lane, lurching forward and away from your accommodation.

“Um. Hello?” You question. The car whips around a turn, green eyes fixated to the rear view. Shifting in your seat, you glance behind you.

“We’re being followed.” Jake just barely makes the light before it turns red, leaving the tailing SUV behind.

“It’s probably just paparazzi, no big deal.” It’s easy to shrug off for you, but Jake huffs.

“Yeah. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel alone with vultures circling.” Navigating the CarPlay in the vehicle, he quickly moves to messages and asks his phone to send someone to your hotel to gather your things.

“Jake, I’m-”

“You’re staying with me.”

━◦○◦ⓢⓞ◦○◦ⓘⓣ◦○◦ⓖⓞⓔⓢ◦○◦━

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman fanfic #hangman x reader #hangman

439 notes · View notes

springtyme · 2 months

Note

Hi Sage, congrats on the milestone, honey!

I would love to request number 10 from the fluff prompt with Spencer ✨

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐃𝐨𝐜 ♡

Thank you so much, dear! This was so lovely to write ♡

Spencer Reid x reader || Main masterlist || Spencer playlist

10: “I just want to lay here all day” for the 1k follower celebration. Waking up next to you is Spencer's favorite thing in the world.

word count: 1k

As the warm sunlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a gentle glow, you slowly open your eyes. Slowly stirring from your slumber, you let out a contented sigh, stretching your arms before turning to find Spencer, lying peacefully beside you. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you admire his soft features and tousled hair. It’s so rare that you wake up before him, but you love when you do.

You carefully prop yourself up on your elbow, gently tracing the contours of his face with your eyes. His relaxed expression fills your heart with warmth, reminding you just how lucky you are to have him by your side. Gently, you reach out to brush a wavy strand of hair away from his forehead, reveling in the softness of his touch against your fingertips.

As you bask in the tranquility of the moment, fond memories of your journey together begin to flood your mind. From the first time you met, you knew there was something special about Spencer Reid. It was a fateful day at a small bookstore three years ago. You were both reaching for the same book and your hands accidentally brushed against each other. The spark of connection was instant, and from that moment on, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards each other.

As you reminisce, you can’t help but remember the nervous excitement of your first date. Spencer had taken you to a small café, where the two of you spent hours engrossed in deep conversations about your shared love for literature, psychology, and everything in between. It was clear that you had found someone who understood you on a level no one else had before.

Each day with Spencer is a new discovery, and waking up beside him feels like unwrapping a precious gift.

You trace the outline of his lips, recalling the tender kisses shared in this very room, sealing promises of love and devotion. The way his eyes light up when he catches a glimpse of you, the way his voice intertwines with yours in whispered conversations late into the night – these are the cherished moments that make your heart dance with joy.

Lost in your reflections, you slowly lean down, pressing your lips against his forehead in a gentle, loving kiss. His warm breath brushes against your skin, a sign that he is beginning to wake, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. A sleepy smile graces his lips, mirroring the way you felt only moments ago.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you whisper, leaning in to press a tender kiss on Spencer’s forehead.

“Mmm, morning,” he mumbles, his voice still laced with sleep. He shifts closer, instinctively seeking your warmth, and sneaks his arms around you.

“Did you sleep well?” you whisper, your voice filled with tenderness.

Spencer’s eyes widen with delight, his voice layered with affection as he replies, “With you by my side, how could I not?”

You feel your heart swell at his response, a warm feeling spreading through you. The love you share with Spencer is something truly special, and these little moments of intimacy and connection reaffirm that bond.

As you lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you relish in the comfort and safety of being with someone who truly understands you. With Spencer, you feel seen, heard, and valued in a way you’ve never experienced before. His presence in your life has brought a depth of joy and meaning that you never knew was possible.

“I just want to lay here all day,” Spencer murmurs, his voice filled with contentment. You nestle closer to him, a grin spreading across your face.

“That does sound good,” you reply, your voice filled with equal parts longing and satisfaction. Time seems to lose its meaning as you both lie there, embracing the beauty of the present moment. “Let’s stay like this for a little longer,” you suggest with a chuckle, wrapping your arms tighter around Spencer’s form. The two of you entwine in a blissful embrace, savoring the intimate comfort found in each other’s arms.

The room is filled with a sense of peace and serenity, as if the world outside ceases to exist. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to fully immerse in the moment, feeling the rise and fall of Spencer’s chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a state of tranquility.

As you lay there, you can’t help but think about how happy you are to have met Spencer. His intelligence, compassion, and unwavering support have been constant sources of strength and inspiration in your life.

With a soft smile, you lean up to press a tender kiss against Spencer’s cheek, a silent expression of gratitude for the love and happiness he brings into your life. He responds by turning his head, capturing your lips in a lingering kiss that speaks volumes of the love you both share.

As you pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your breaths mingling, and you whisper, “As tempting as lazing around for the rest of the morning is, I’m kind of starving. How about I make us some breakfast?”

“How about we make it together?” Spencer suggest.

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, running your fingers lazily through Spencer’s soft waves. A smile spreading across your face, feeling a surge of excitement at the idea of embarking on this simple task together.

“But you know the rule. I’m in charge of coffee,” Spencer says.

You grin playfully, planting a quick kiss on Spencer’s nose. “Sure.”

You both slowly untangle yourselves from each other's embrace, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the bed. As you make your way to the kitchen, a sense of domestic bliss fills the air.

While he brews the coffee, you gather ingredients for a hearty breakfast. The sound of sizzling bacon fills the room as you simultaneously crack eggs into a bowl, your gazes occasionally meeting and exchanging a knowing smile. It’s moments like these that make life feel so simple yet so beautiful.

658 notes · View notes

opalemo · 10 months

Text

homecoming. ✿

the ache of longing, the spark of anticipation, the joy of reunion. the way they greet you at the airport when you finally arrive home.

xiao / childe / scaramouche & gn reader. just sweet happy moments.

xiao

xiao is scared for an entire week leading up to your return. it’s so stupid how he’s afraid of the thing he wants the most, but he has no idea what he’s supposed to do or how he’s supposed to act. does he buy you gifts? clean your room? bring you flowers? does he act normal or extra nice? does he say he missed you? but you already know that… so should he say he loves you more than anything and never wants you to leave without him again?

okay, he probably can’t manage telling you that without combusting on the spot.

as the date draws nearer xiao feels his heart grow lighter in anticipation - the weight of waiting and longing slowly dissipating as the sun rises over the dawn of your arrival.

he can sense you coming before he even lays eyes on you, bobbing in and out among the sea of other people rushing out and celebrating reunions with their loved ones. anxiety gnaws at his thoughts - what if you’re different? what if you’re unhappy to be back? what if you realised you’re actually better off without him?

“hi, xiao.”

your voice is still as beautiful as ever. so are those eyes, your smile, you. he opens his mouth to say sorry for zoning out and for doubting you for no reason but before he can speak, your hands are on his collar and your lips are on his for the first time in what feels like forever.

your fingertips drag softly across his jaw.

“i’ve missed you”.

xiao’s embrace is gentle in spite of his poorly concealed desperation. you, on the contrary, completely fling yourself into his arms. his hands shake with unbridled excitement, unfamiliar euphoria consuming his very being.

unlike the excruciating grip his mind usually has on him, this feeling is so light in every way.

your laugh bubbles against his chest, and he realises how much he missed the sound - the sound of happiness. yours is his, and his is yours.

childe

you’re on high alert, scanning the rows of people left and right for that familiar mop of ginger hair. with the way your heart is pumping you’d think you were more afraid than excited. after all, dating your beloved ajax of all people means you have to be prepared for a jumpscare at absolutely any second. and the fact that you don’t see him anywhere doesn’t disappoint you or make your heart drop. with the way he was counting down the weeks, days, hours to this moment, there’s no way he would forget or even be a second late to pick you up. it just makes you question what the hell he’s up to this time.

you look down at your phone to check the time and whether or not he’s texted you. nothing yet. you scroll through his instagram to see if he’s uploaded anything. nothing.

you only realise your mistake when you look back up again.

slowly turning around, you come to face that cheeky grin, his smile stretched as wide as ever, and you have to try and contain a laugh at his obvious childlike excitement at being able to sneak up behind you.

it sounds cheesy, but you swear the whole world slows down when you’re finally in his arms again.

childe swings you around about five times and proceeds to squeeze the very life out of you (you can’t breathe and this is literally so embarrassing, but you couldn’t care less). he’s here, he’s alive, and he’s still as annoying as ever - just the way you like (love) him.

scaramouche

to any bystander, it would’ve appeared as if he didn’t even miss you. hell, why was he waiting for you at the airport in the first place? did you coerce him into it? threaten to break up with him?

in fact, he thinks to himself, that sounds more like something i would do.

you don’t even need to look for him when you enter the arrivals area - he’s standing at the back near the exit, hood on, headphones in, arms crossed like some wannabe gangster trying to look intimidating. he pretends not to notice you waving (embarrassingly) at him, but you know he does - you know he’s simply overjoyed to see you.

just expresses it in a strange way is all. not that you’re complaining.

“kuni!” you squeal, letting go of your suitcase to jump into his arms. he uncrosses his arms so fast to catch you (and your suitcase which is now rolling away), holding you tight against his chest like you might fall down and disintegrate if he doesn’t. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s trying so hard to contain a blush and a smile right now.

when he finally lets go to take you to his car, he mutters a “will you stop holding onto me or what?” under his breath.

the audacity.

he kisses you when you get in the car.

#bookshelf #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #childe x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #xiao fluff #childe fluff #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #xiao headcanons #childe headcanons #scaramouche headcanons #wanderer headcanons #genshin impact headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin imagines

2K notes · View notes

atoriid · 3 months

Text

Ever imagine having children with me?

-flash fic-

summary: You want to raise little rascals that look like Sukuna

incl.: Talks of having children with Sukuna, established relationship, actually they are married, reader is implied to be female since um baby, Sukuna in his true form, heian era

pairing/s: Sukuna Ryomen x fem! reader

warning/s: Children talk oOOoOooh scary

note: I think Sukuna will raise absolute menaces

☆masterlist☆

Sukuna Ryomen, a name that instills fear into the hearts of humans and curses alike. A tremendous force of nature never to be trifled with, is similarly revered as a deity by his devoted followers and you.

And yet, here you are idly perched on his lap as he attends to the affairs of his ever-expanding temple.

Your mind wandered off to a thought…it would be a delight to have a child or children, little ones causing their own little mischief and chaos. It would be nice if they resembled Ryomen.

Although, the decision does not solely rest on you; it takes two to tango.

“Husband,” you call out, your thoughts partially occupied with visions of what your offspring would inherit from both of you. Would they have his hair? His strong four arms?

Sukuna stops for a moment, his head looking down to look at you, curious as to what you were up to now. Well…you’ve always been known to have the most outlandish ideas, one of which being your marriage to him. “Yes, wife?”

You mindlessly traced the tattoos adorning his chest, your touch evoking a gentle tickle. “Have you ever imagined having children with me?”

His eyes widened, caught off guard by your question. Children? Sukuna never had positive interactions with those, considering his usual exploits consist of pillaging and destroying their very homes, and other atrocities he typically engages in.

His eyes travelled downward to your stomach, currently only occupied by whatever snacks you’ve indulged in before unceremoniously using his lap as your throne. Yet, the idea of your belly swelling with his child sparks a flicker of contemplation within him.

Unconsciously, Sukuna’s hand moves to tenderly caress your squishy belly, lost in thought. A child that would bear your likeness, his most cherished person…he’s not going to lie, it holds a certain appeal to him.

“Ryo? Are you still with me?”

“Hm?” He lifts his head to meet your gaze, those eyes overflowing with boundless affection for him. “As long as they have your eyes…I won't mind.”

“Ehh?! But I want them to have your eyes! Filled with untamed chaos and menace,” you jest, amused by the incredulous face Sukuna made.

“If you so wish…we can have as many as you desire, a blend of yours and mine.” Sukuna suggested. Unable to contain your joy, your grin lights up the room.

“I like it! Oh just imagine the little rascals wreaking havoc around our estate…what a delight,” you almost melt at the mental picture.

Sukuna chuckles, his hand tenderly caressing your smiling face, a mischievous glint in his eye hinting at something inappropriate.

You arched an eyebrow. “You look awfully suspicious, spit it out.”

He laughs as he sees your gaze, manoeuvring your body to rest on his two arms as the others slide to your lower back. “Shall we commence our little projects, hm?”

With a smile, you lean your forehead to his holding onto his neck. “Oh please do, husband~”

Bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, you found yourselves enveloped in a moment of serene closeness. The air crackled with electric anticipation as you tenderly cradled his face, your touch sending shivers down his spine. With a tender inhale, he leaned in closer drawing you into a kiss.

word count: 496

#sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x female reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #fanfiction #x reader #imagines #sukuna true form #heian era sukuna

384 notes · View notes

imfinereallyy · 1 year

Text

“Who was your first kiss?”

“Depends what you mean.” Steve hits the joint Eddie passed to him. They are sitting on the roof of the trailer, stargazing. It is the first clear night of summer. Steve feels lighter than he has in months.

“I'm not really sure if there is another way to ask that, Harrington.” Eddie laughs around the tip of the joint. “It's a pretty simple question. Besides, I thought this was secret time. No need to get shy on me now.” Eddie spins to his side dramatically, tucking his hands beneath his face. He stares at Steve with joy in his eyes.

Steve takes the joint, pulls, and huff smoke into Eddie’s face. A soft laugh escapes him. “Well, I mean, do you mean like the first real kiss? Or, like, when did I start practicing?”

“Practicing?”

“Yea like, figure out how to, and what its like before the real deal? So it doesn't count.”

“I'm sorry—” Eddie scrunches his eyebrows “—I’m confused. Why wouldn't it count?”

“Cause it was with a guy.” Steve shrugs because he doesn't think it's a big deal. He doesn't understand why Eddie is hung up on it.

But then, Eddie's face does this thing for a second. Like he isn't sure whether to be angry or sad, but then it relaxes. Instead, a look of puzzlement takes over his face. “Steve, it counts. Like—even though you're not attracted to guys, that still counts as a first kiss. It’s like—kinda hurtful you think it doesn't.”

Steve tilts his head and goes over what he said in his mind. He can't recall saying anything ridiculous like he does when he is high. “Okay, now I'm confused.”

Eddie stares and says nothing.

“No! Not like confused as in I don't get why your upset, but more like confused who said I was straight?”

In shock Eddie manages, “What now?”

“Never said I was straight. I just meant that if we're talking about first kisses, usually people mean a girl. So the guy doesn't count. Especially because I didn't know I liked guys then. Think even if I was straight this right here—” Steve waves a hand between the two of them “—is pretty homoerotic so I think straight went out the window.”

Eddie swallows, looks down at Steve’s lips, and looks back into his eyes. “There is so much to unpack there. But first, thank you for telling me. Second, Steve. That is like not how it works. Just cause a kiss is practice doesn't mean you didn't kiss. Like just cause you're hitting balls at practice instead of the game, doesn't mean you're not hitting them.”

Something settles in Steve. “Huh, I guess I never thought of it that way.”

Eddie grabs Steve by the shoulders. “I'm glad you understand, but onto more pressing matters. Who was this boy you practiced with?”

“Oh, it was Tommy Hagan.”

Eddie drops his hands in shock. “Hagan?! C’mon Stevie, I thought you had better taste.”

Steve giggles at Eddie’s antics. He can't help but take in how pretty Eddie is when he gets all worked up. It is unfair in Steve’s eyes. How someone can be so wonderful even when they are losing their mind.

Steve can't resist the urge to finally flirt a little. “He wasn't my type Munson. Like I said, just practice. Wasn't really into it. Pretty sure he liked it more than me. I think if I liked him, I would have figured out the whole bisexual thing a lot sooner. No, my type is definitely more in the dark curly hair nerd department.”

Eddie swallows nervously, “Nancy?”

Steve isn't offended by Eddie’s question. Steve knows he's scrambling, can tell by the blush on his face. Steve feels hope spark within his chest. “No, she's great and all, but I was thinking more masculine. With pretty doe eyes, a deep laugh, a kind soul, and horrible taste in music.”

Eddie sputters, and Steve watches his blush spread, “My music is great!”

“Hmmm, sure.”

“Hey Stevie? Do you feel like you need more practice?” Eddie leans in close brushing his nose against Steve’s with a sudden rush of bravery.

“No, i’ve had enough practice. Think I want the real thing.”

“Okay I want to be smooth but I have to google d response to that so I am going to kiss you now.” Eddie rushes out.

“Sounds perfect.” Eddie closes the gap before Steve can say anything else. Eddie tastes like salted chocolate and weed. It's sweet and musky and so very Eddie. It starts soft, the softest kiss Steve’s had, just plush lips pushed against each other.

It slowly builds to more. Steve’s hands travel up Eddie’s sides and into his hair. He wonders how a wild thing could be so, so soft. Steve gives a gentle tug, and Eddie moans deeply into him. Eddie’s hands grab Steve’s waist and yank him forward. His hands are to cause bruises surely, and the thought leaves Steve giddy. The sounds Eddie makes are getting desperate, which causes Steve to release his own moan.

Eddie doesn't waste a second taking advantage and shoving his tongue inside Steve’s mouth. He’s warm and wet, and oh God, Steve wants more, more, more.

After a few minutes, Eddie pulls back. “Wait, who did you really think was your first kiss?”

Steve rests his forehead on Eddie’s. He can't help but think his answer is a little funny. “Carol Perkins.”

“Wait, wasn't she dating Tommy?”

“Oh yeah. He was there actually. Kinda encouraged it to happen.”

Eddie looks torn between laughing and being disgusted. “Again, so much to unpack, but I don't think I want to touch that with a ten-foot pole. At least not tonight. Can we go back to making out?”

“Yes please.” Steve all but begs, a while releasing into the space between them.

They don't pull apart until their lips are swollen and their throats are raw from moaning. It’s Steve’s best first kiss yet.

---

originally this was more angsty and going to be more reflective on my personally experience of the very popular thought of “if my first kiss is with a girl it doesn't count” that I see a lot of bisexuals like myself (and other sexually fluid people...honestly an experience the whole LGBTQ+ community has) have. Like having that realization made me re-evaluate myself. But it ended up being more light hearted and using another experience of mine which is being out but refusing to count the first kiss because of who it was with. Steve and I...we have regrets. I still might write the other one, we shall see :)

#steddie #eddie brings up steve’s brief stint unknowingly in a throuple all the time #Steve screams it was one time #Eddie doesn't stop its too funny #he finally gives up when steve admits he thinks carol is gay #eddie munson loves steve harrington #steve Harrington loves Eddie munson #stranger things #cw: heavy making out #my first time writing making out be kind please #have literally wrote dirty talk and not making out??#ficlet #my writing #tommy hagan #carol perkins #steddie fic #ao3

2K notes · View notes

thefantasyden · 2 months

Text

Feels Like Floating

Pairing: Lee Know x Female reader

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF

Warnings: Soft boy Minho, fingering, lots of praise and dirty talk, Minho is in loooove, some dry humping, Minho cums on readers tummy.

Word count: 1421

Summary: Minho is hopelessly in love, and it shows in everything he does with you.

"Min, why do you keep staring at me?!"

You were working on your laptop next to him, enjoying his company while he did his own thing, but he'd spent the last 5 minutes staring at you intently, almost as if he was trying to memorise every detail of your face.

Minho was enamoured with you. You were so sweet and kind, and you took such good care of the other members when they were around. He loved how gentle you were, and he truly thought you were his perfect missing piece.

"You look cute when you're focused." He smiles to himself, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Can you take a break?"

You whine playfully at him, telling him that you absolutely can not while you're moving to his lap, straddling him as you bury your head in his neck. Your arms wrap tightly around him, and you can feel the joy eminating from him as his own find purchase around your waist, small kisses being pressed to the top of your head as he pet your hair. You're all but melting in his arms, completely relaxed as you sink into the couch with him.

Everything was always easy with Minho. There was a perfect amount of push and pull between you, and he always knew exactly what you needed.

You stay in that position for longer than you intended, too wrapped in the wonderful warmth of his body to move until you feel something pressing against your thigh, shifting slightly in a brief moment of confusion before you hear him hum out a low moan.

"My love, could you stop fidgeting?" He asks gently, lifting your head with his finger to plant a kiss on your lips. The way he was so sweet when he spoke to you had you melting in his arms, ideas sparking in your head as you shifted again.

You're met with a look of confusion, which immediately shifts to a playful smile when he sees the cheeky look in your eyes that tells him that you know exactly what you're doing. His hand dropping from your hip in favour of patting your butt.

"Are you restless, or are you trying to rile me up?" There's a knowing tone to his voice, and you're well aware that he just wants to see the way your face flushes red when you tell him that you want him.

"I just want some attention from my favourite man. Is that so bad?" It's an innocent enough question, but it's met with a deep moan from Minho as your hips meet once again.

The next kiss is harder, and he's holding your cheek as he slips his tongue into your mouth, savouring the tiny whimpers you let out as you try to subtly grind down on his lap to relieve the tension that was building inside of you. You were always a little quick to lose control when you were feeling needy with Minho, and it gave him a deep sense of pride to know that you trusted him enough to let yourself react to him without thinking.

You're whining when he pulls away, staring down at him with a pout that makes his heart beat faster, thoughts of all the other pretty faces you'll be making for him stirring in his minds eye.

"Come on, baby. Bedroom." There's a pat to your thigh that accompanies his words, and you're quick to stand, almost running toward your room with him in close suit.

Very little time passes before his hands are finding purchase on your waist again, and his lips are connecting with yours between happy giggles and whistful sighs as he guides you back toward the bed. He's careful, laying you down like a porcelain doll before he settles between your legs, lips moving from yours to trail tender kisses along your exposed neck.

"You're always so responsive to me, baby." He can't help but coo when your moans meet his ear, your hips rolling into his own as his tongue laps over your sensitive skin and sends shock waves of pleasure straight to where you need him most. "You look so cute when you're like this. My sweet Kitty. Should I help you out?"

His hand snakes beneath your shirt for a moment to grope your chest, delicate fingers brushing over your nipples for just a second before he pulls your shirt off completely. He loves the way you still blush when he starts stripping you.

"Please. Want your fingers." The words surprise you a little, but they get you exactly what you want, which is your pants being tugged down before your boyfriend is running two fingers along your pussy over your underwear, humming as he feels how wet you already are just from kissing him.

"Oh, my sweet girl." He's smiling, wet kisses being planted along the spanse of your thighs as he slips his fingers beneath your underwear. He doesn't like to waste time, his thumb immediately rubbing firm circles at your sensitive clit. He usually wouldn't hesitate to tortue you like this, but you looked so helpless and ready as you stared down at him that he couldn't focus on anything but making you feel good. "You're so good for me, you know that? So beautiful like this." A finger is pressing inside you as he speaks, and you're sure you'd try and respond if you weren't gasping for air as he pressed against your gspot, testing the waters before he adds another finger.

"You're so wet. You can hear it, can't you? So wet just for me." He's babbling a little, dizzy at the view he has if your soaked pussy gripping his fingers as they're thrust in and out of your hole.

He pauses, massaging your gspot and taking in the choked noises you let out in response. "Do you think you can cum for me, pretty girl? Wanna feel the way you squeeze my fingers when you cum. Will you do that for me?" He knows you will. You're already on edge and it doesn't take long for him to have you shouting his name, your pussy tightening around his skilled fingers as he works you through your high until you're whimpering that you're too sensitive. It might be the most delicious sound he's ever heard.

He stands for a second to kick off his pants, his shirt being tugged recklessly over his head until he's able to press his naked body against your own, the warm feeling of his skin or yours sparking a new surge of need that only he can fill as you tug him into a messy kiss that is mostly tongues and panting, his cock sliding through your slick folds making the most sinful noises.

"Please." The words are whispered into his mouth, hips bucking slightly before he's teasing your hole with the tip of his cock, only resting it there.

"Do you want me to fuck you, my love?" It's less of a tease and more of a request for confirmation, though you thought your answer would be obvious. You opt for wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in for another kiss, and that seems to be plenty for him as he slowly pushes his length into you, swearing against your neck at how perfectly you fit him.

He's lying on top of you, leaving tiny marks across your chest and neck as he rolls his hips into you, ensuring he hits the right spot every time. "Love you so much, baby." He whispers his love to you like a secret, something only you should ever hear as he gets painfully close to his high, his thrust becoming a little more desperate but keeping the same calculated rhythm that pushes you toward your second orgasm of the night.

"You're my pretty baby. My angel. Fuck. Wanna keep you all to myself. You take me so fucking well, angel. Wanna give you everything you ever want." You wish you could respond to him to tell him that you're only ever going to be his, but his rambling pushes you over the edge and the way your pussy clenches around his length has him losing it, rushing to pull out so that he can cum on your tummy. The room is filled with your combined panting, and he falls beside you, almost drifting off before realising you were lying still, his cum coating your skin.

"Shit, sorry baby. Let me get you cleaned up!" He's scrambling to get tissues, and you can't help but giggle at him, feeling a deep gratitude for the sweet bunny boy that owned your heart.

#lee know smut #minho smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #lee minho smut #stray kids lee know smut #lee know stray kids smut #thefantasyden

290 notes · View notes

oh-koenig-my-koenig · 2 months

Text

building a pillowfort

(cw: age gap 25/41, hints of smut, nsfw, mdni)

Most days we stay in, after I get back from work. Cooking something together if König didn’t do that already before or ordering some take-out.

Like that one time when we converted half the living room into a giant pillow fort. Using the couch as the base, blankets shielding the fort off, all of the comfy pillows we could find lying on the ground, so we would be comfortable. We even ordered from my favourite sushi place, although sushi isn’t really his thing because he doesn’t really like fish and also because he’d need to eat so much of it for his calorie intake that it is expensive.

He almost tears down the painstakingly constructed pillowfort when he takes a seat inside and leans back, his head getting stuck on one of the blankets. We can prevent the worst and the fort is saved, but he sits back a little wearily and I can’t hold back the laughter.

His tall stature in the flimsy construction looks almost comical, the big man in something so childish like a pillowfort makes my heart dance with joy. And it feels like this little date thing, not just a evening like every other, even when we were just staying in.

We eat, sitting in our comfortable fort, and watch Scream, the original one from ’96. We both have seen it a bunch of times already. I mean, it’s a classic, right? I still flinch every time there is a loud noise or a jumpscare. And König laughs every time, his hearty chuckles making me look at him, because I can’t get enough of how his face lights up when he’s smiling bright, even at my expense.

"Aww, poor thing.", he coos with pretend pity.

"Shut up.", I tell him, equally pretending to be pouty, nudging him with my elbow.

His huge arms are closing around me as he pulls me into him, my cheek landing on his huge pec. I just love when he does that. The simple one-sided hug sitting next to each other, our size difference meaning that my face would get pressed into his chest, his calming scent engulfing me. When I’m snuggled against him like that, everything seems a little more like it’s going to be okay.

"Come here, I'll protect you from Ghostface.", he says, his voice beaming with protectiveness while I see the spark of mischief in his eyes as he is grinning down at me.

"You're so stupid.", I mutter, nuzzling into his shirt. He just laughs again, cuddling me closer.

The movie is quickly forgotten about because of course our hands start to wander. And it doesn’t take more than a few strokes over his bulge, that looks really delicious in his black sweatpants by the way, until his hand catches my wrist and turns the teasing touches around on me.

I shake with laughter as the whole pillowfort crashes down around us with the first few pushes of his dick into me, the blankets covering us – mostly hanging off of his head and shoulders. The fort is now completely destroyed, a grumpy expression on his face while he gets rid the blankets, cursing and grumbling.

“Wir kinan nur froh sei, dass i koa Maurer wordn bin.“ (We can count ourselves lucky that I didn’t become a mason.)

He mutters something to himself in his funny language while he makes sure that everything is out of the way and me comfortable and warm underneath himself, not willing to leave my warm wet pussy to do any of that. Kissing my face all over, starting to fuck me again with deep hard strokes, until the grin on my lips turns into an O, soft moans escaping my throat.

~ More in the Masterlist ~

#metalhead!könig #spending time with mh!k #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

157 notes · View notes

usiel21 · 5 months

Text

The Trauma of Enid Sinclair.

After her fight with the Hyde, Enid can't forget that night, seeing Wednesday covered in blood, the knife wound that was going to kill Wednesday haunts her dreams. Every night. Her dreams filled with an image of Wednesday dead, slumped over, knife sticking out of her gut.

It fills Enid with a ruthless determination.

Every morning at home she wakes up and does 100 push ups. No exceptions and then goes for a run.

The six full moons over the two month period should be ones of joy, but she spends each one, alone, away from the pack, hunting. Honing her instincts. Each one culminating in a kill so bloody and so savage that even her mother can't bring herself to criticize it, the deers and a singular bear have been mauled beyond the point of reason. She leaves the carcasses on the back porch with the other kills.

Her brothers begin to fear the savagery that their little sister is now capable of.

The return to Nevermore is a quiet one, her heart sings in elation at seeing Wednesday again. Seeing that she is alive but still recovering.

But Wednesday is far from stupid, she notices the changes in Enid immediately but doesn't comment on it, she finds herself silently counting every push-up and every sit-up. The colour of her roommate is still there albeit jaded.

Enid takes an almost obsessive interest in the investigation revolving around her stalker. Enid studies outcast bestiary encyclopaedias. Making notes and annotations to them. Specifically notes on where the arteries run, where vital organs are located and how far she would have to cut in order to reach them.

Enid wakes up in the night, pads over to Wednesdays bed and carefully presses her fingers to her pulse and hovering her hand by her mouth, feeling the slow outtake of air. She would heave a sigh of relief before going back to sleep.

Thing tells Wednesday everything, the notes, the checking to see if she's still alive. But still she make no comment on it.

The first boy that tries to ask Wednesday out doesn't even get a chance to speak to her, Enid is already there.

"She's not interested, back off" the last two words come out as a growl as her fangs descend and her claws elongate. Once the boy runs away terrified she sheepishly turns to look at Wednesday who only gives her a curt nod in return, it makes Enid preen all the same.

People soon learn that Wednesday is off limits. Well almost all of them that is.

Xavier fucking Thorpe.

It happens on the third botany lesson of the year, with the new teacher, Miss Reeves. Enid watches with intensity and a boiling, bubbling anger as Xavier attempts to flirt with Wednesday, who shows no interest in return.

Yoko notices it first, the extended claws, the yellow eyes but has no time to stop it as Xavier makes a play to hold Wednesdays hand. The other girl flinches away, disgust evident on her face. And Enid sees red, every emotion, every bit of fear, every piece of anger coming to the forefront.

Xavier has no time to react as Enid bolts over her table and tackles Xavier to the floor. The boy screams 'What the fuck?!" as he hits the floor.

the half-transformed wolf snarls and growls above him.

"DO NOT TOUCH HER!" She screams down at him. "Miss Sinclair!" Miss Reeves roars but gulps and takes a step back as the wolf's eyes round on her, a genuine murderous intent gleam there. But Enid backs off but doesn't back down instead she turns until Wednesday is behind her, keeping the her precious raven safe, all eyes are trained on her, all of them now threats to Wednesday.

And all that runs through her head is a singular, terrifying thought.

Protect Mate

Until she feel's Wednesday's hand tentatively come up to brush her fingers.

"Enid, I'm okay, it is okay." Wednesday's soft whisper comes from behind. She whines and whimpers as Wednesday's touch is like a spark upon her skin, so gentle and so soft. Yet Enid doesn't back down, it just gives her an even more greater reason to protect and defend.

Wednesday's whisper is barely audible but regardless everyone hears it.

"My sweet and savage wolf" Wednesday whispers, taking her hand. "Stop...please." the last word is almost pleading. And it shakes Enid out of her kill rage, the claws retract and her face returns to that once sweet girl that everyone would describe as being like sunshine. She ducks her head away, ashamed and mortified. But their eyes meet conveying everything she can't say.

Wednesday's sharp eyes turn to Miss Reeves.

"Inform the rest of the teachers that Enid and I are returning to our room. I will handle this in what way I deem fit." She pauses "If the new principal does not approve then inform him that anyone that messes with Enid will incur the wrath of the Addams clan."

Wednesday pauses to look down at Xavier.

"Touch me again and I won't stop her next time."

Xavier incredulously looks at the girls joined hands and at Enid who is now clinging to Wednesday's arm like a koala bear. But wisely says nothing.

"Come, mi sol" Wednesday gently says, leading Enid from the room.

Miss Reeves rounded on Xavier "You foolish, idiotic boy!" Xavier nearly choked on the words that died in his throat in protest "You know better than to touch a werewolf's mate!"

The walk back to the dorm is a quick and silent one. Until Wednesday locks the door behind them as Enid retreats further into the room.

"You must hate me so much right now, Wends" Enid mutters tearfully.

Wednesday steps forward.

"Why would you think such a ridiculous notion Enid?" Wednesday questions.

"Because of what just happened, Because I'm a shitty friend... because i'm a failure." Enid says, all but breaking down. The tears come thick and fast, every bit of despair, every fear finally letting itself explode.

"If i could have wolfed out you wouldn't have been stabbed!" Enid wails. Wednesday can't say nothing other than watch Enid rip herself to pieces with guilt that isn't just.

"If I had beaten the Hyde faster, if I had been better!" Enid laments "If I had known Thornhill had taken you if I wasn't too busy sucking face with Ajax! I could have stopped it!"

Wednesday moved towards Enid until she was right in front of her, their eyes met.

"If you died I would have died with you." Enid confesses softly.

And Wednesday had never been told something so terrifying. Enid turned away and continued to sob. Wednesday moved until she was right in Enid's personal space.

"But i didn't die, I'm right here Enid. Look at me." Wednesday said. Shimmering Blue eyes met hers and Wednesday held out her hands. Enid's shook as she placed them into the ravens.

"Do you think i care for you so little that if you died against the Hyde i wouldn't have met him in battle knowing that i would come to you even in death?"

Enid's lip quivered at Wednesday's words. Wednesday stepped closer.

"Do you think i could ever hate you? Even when we first met I found I simply couldn't as much as i wanted to."

Enid whimpered.

"Do you think I love you so little..." Enid's eyes widen at the proclamation. "...that even death would have been able to keep me from you?"

"Wends..." Enid can't help but utter, hearing the most loving and romantic thing anyone has ever said to her.

"Your not the only one that lost a part of themselves that night Enid, I lost a part of myself to you and I never want it back"

"That is literally the most loving thing anyone has ever said to me..." Enid whined, bringing their clasped hands to her chest.

"This is not the way I wished to tell you..." Wednesday said, casting her eyes to the floor.

"It was perfect Wends." Enid said stepping closer as Wednesday looks at her again "I..." Enid begins, her words hitching in her throat. "...I..." Wednesday steps closer, they're both so close now that they can feel each other's breath.

"Yes Enid?" Wednesday prompts softly. Enid composes herself enough for the briefest of moments. "...I... I love you!"

And Wednesday is the one that takes the final leap of faith by pushing forwards, their hands clasped tightly together between them at chest level, capturing Enid's lips blissfully with her own, the spiderweb window directly behind them.

Enid cries during their first kiss. The wolf, exhausted half drags Wednesday to her bed, before collapsing upon it with Wednesday in tow, their bodies entwined. Her final thoughts as she drifts off a comfort as she tucks her face into the seers neck.

Mate safe.

Mate in nest.

Mate warm.

Mate happy.

Mate alive.

#wenclair #they're so gay #these are just meant to be small drabbles that somehow end up being 1500 words long Lmao

262 notes · View notes

herlondonboy · 10 months

Text

I Can See You

pairings: Taylor Swift x gn!reader

summary: a hallway romance with Taylor Swift on the set of Valentine’s Day idk what else to say

warnings: it’s mostly just you and Taylor making out tbh, doesn’t really follow the song greatly idk. Probably spelling mistakes

word count: 2.2k

You can see her.

You can always see her. She does it on purpose. Flaunts herself in ways that only you would be able to notice. Whether it be the way she flips her hair or how her hips sway whilst she’s walking.

You watch Taylor from across the hall, completely captivated by her every move. The way she carries herself with confidence and grace mesmerizes you. It's in these stolen moments of observation that you realize your heart has been claimed by her.

Your joy knows no bounds when you remember that you and Taylor are in a secret relationship, even if it means keeping it hidden from the world. The thrill of knowing that your connection is something special, something intimate, fills your heart with warmth.

As you pass by Taylor you carefully slip a folded note into her pocket, your hand trembling with excitement. The note simply reads, "meet me at midnight. you know where."

The thought of meeting Taylor in the secrecy of night sends a rush of anticipation through your veins. You both share the knowledge of that special place, the secret hallway where your romance blossoms. It's a place where you can be yourselves, away from prying eyes and judgment.

With each passing moment, your excitement builds, wondering if Taylor will find the note and accept your invitation. The thought of being in her arms, even if just for a stolen moment, makes your heart flutter with anticipation.

As the clock strikes midnight, you find yourself standing in the familiar secret hallway. The dim lighting casts an ethereal glow, setting the stage for a clandestine meeting. Every second feels like an eternity, until finally, you hear the soft sound of footsteps approaching.

And there she is, Taylor, standing before you, her eyes filled with the same longing and excitement that you feel. In that moment, the world around you fades away, and it's just the two of you, wrapped in the warmth of your secret love.

The weight of the formal attire lingers on your shoulders, but the sight of Taylor entering the hallway brings a spark of joy to your weary heart.

As she approaches, a tender smile graces Taylor’s lips. “You’ve been looking quite dapper today,” she says, her voice filled with admiration. “But let me fix that tie for you.”

You stand still, grateful for her presence and the touch of her gentle hands. Taylor steps closer, her fingers delicately adjusting the knot of your tie, her eyes locked with yours.

“There we go,” she says, her voice a soft whisper. “Now, you’re perfect.”

The intimate gesture fills your heart with warmth, and you can’t help but reach out, placing a hand on Taylor’s cheek. “Thank you,” you say, your voice filled with gratitude. “You always know how to make everything better.”

She smiles, her eyes filled with affection. “It’s my pleasure,” she replies, her voice carrying a hint of tenderness.

As you embrace, you savour the sweetness of this hidden connection, cherishing the stolen moments and the magic they bring. In this secret hallway, your love can thrive, untouched by the outside world.

“I missed you,” you whispered into her neck.

Taylor giggled at your words. “We saw each other an hour ago.”

“So?” You ask as you break away so you can rest your back against the opposite wall.

Taylor's gaze meets yours from across the hall, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Without a moment's hesitation, she strides purposefully toward you, her steps filled with determination. In an instant, she presses you against the wall, her lips crashing into yours with a passionate intensity.

Your heart pounds in your chest as the world around you fades away. The feeling of her touch, the taste of her kiss, ignites a fire within you. The hidden hallway seems to shrink, encompassing only the two of you in this stolen moment of desire.

But just as the heat of the moment reaches its peak, a sound in the distance catches your attention. A faint rustling, an indication that someone may be approaching. Reluctantly, Taylor breaks the kiss, her eyes filled with a mixture of longing and caution.

“What if it’s your parents?” You ask in a whisper.

Taylor shushes you. “It’s late, they’ll be asleep.”

The air crackles with anticipation as you both catch your breath, your bodies still pressed against each other. The possibility of being caught heightens the intensity of the moment, the risk making it all the more exhilarating.

With a shared understanding, you exchange a knowing glance, silently acknowledging the need for caution. This secret love affair, although thrilling, carries the weight of secrecy. In this fleeting moment, you must retreat, allowing the world to return to its unaware state.

Reluctantly, you disentangle yourselves, stepping back from the wall. The hallway regains its anonymity, concealing the passion that sparked between you. But the electricity lingers, a reminder of the hidden love that continues to thrive within the shadows.

“Taylor,” You call out last minute, making her turn to you. “I love you.”

The blonde grins at you. “I love you too, baby.”

As you part ways, your eyes lock for a brief moment, filled with unspoken promises. The secret hallway will always be your refuge, a place where your love can flourish away from prying eyes. And until the next stolen moment, you carry the taste of her kiss and the memory of her touch, fueling your desire until you can meet again.

And as the night unfolds, you know that no matter how hidden your romance may be, the love you share with Taylor is a treasure worth protecting. In the silence of the secret hallway, your hearts beat as one, bound by the strength of a love that can withstand any obstacle.

You can't resist the overwhelming desire that consumes you after that stolen, passionate kiss with Taylor. The need for more, for deeper connection, drives you to take a daring step. Under the cover of darkness, you find yourself sneaking into Taylor's trailer.

Heart pounding, you carefully navigate through the quiet film set, making sure not to draw attention to your covert mission. The anticipation mounts with every step, your mind filled with visions of what lies ahead.

As you enter Taylor's trailer, the familiar scent of her lingers in the air, intensifying your longing. The space feels intimate, a reflection of the private moments you've shared. You search for her, your heart racing with both excitement and apprehension.

Finally, you find her, sitting near the vanity, engrossed in her own thoughts. You approach silently, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty and vulnerability she exudes in this private sanctuary. Her presence fills the room with an intoxicating energy.

Without a word, you reach out, gently tracing your fingers along her cheek, eliciting a shiver of anticipation. Taylor's eyes meet yours, and a knowing smile dances on her lips. The unspoken connection between you deepens, an invisible thread that binds your souls.

Time seems to stand still as you draw closer, your bodies gravitating toward one another. The air crackles with electric anticipation as your lips meet once more, this time with a hunger that surpasses any previous encounter. The world outside fades away as you immerse yourselves in this stolen moment of pure passion.

Your heart races as you feel the soft touch of Taylor's lips against yours, igniting a wildfire of desire within you. The sound of footsteps drawing near becomes a distant echo, drowned out by the intensity of the moment. In this private haven, where it's just the two of you, nothing else matters.

You cling to Taylor, your bodies pressed close, unwilling to let go. The urgency of your connection overrides any sense of caution. Time seems suspended as you savour the taste of her kiss, the warmth of her embrace, relishing this stolen moment.

Despite the approaching footsteps growing louder, you choose to stay, to revel in this private bubble you've created. The outside world becomes a mere backdrop to your shared passion, a distant murmur that fails to intrude upon your sanctuary.

With each passing second, your desire deepens, and the embrace intensifies. The urgency of the situation only heightens the sensations, as if the risk itself adds fuel to the flames of your love.

Finally, as the approaching sound reaches its peak, reality crashes back with a jolt. You reluctantly break away, breathless and longing for more, knowing that discretion is crucial to preserving the secret of your love.

But as you catch your breath and lock eyes with Taylor, there is an unspoken understanding. The connection you share is too powerful to be confined by the constraints of the outside world. In this private moment, your love feels unbreakable, invincible.

As you part, the sound of footsteps retreats, and the world outside your embrace falls back into focus. But the memory of that stolen kiss lingers, a reminder of the passion you share, a secret flame that burns brightly within you both.

In this private haven, you find solace, knowing that no matter the obstacles or the risk, your love for Taylor is worth every moment of clandestine bliss. And as you walk away, the anticipation of your next stolen encounter fuels your spirits, ready to face the world until you can be together again, in the secrecy of your love's embrace.

With a final, lingering glance, you retreat from Taylor's trailer, leaving behind the traces of your stolen intimacy. The taste of her kiss, the touch of her skin, remains etched in your memory, fueling your desire until the next illicit affair.

As you step back into the world, you carry the weight of this secret love affair, the knowledge of what lies between you and Taylor. The thrill of these stolen moments intertwines with the ache for something more. For now, the secret hallway and the hidden moments continue to be the stage for your passionate connection, an enigmatic romance that dances on the edge of discovery.

You and Taylor had been cautious about your secret relationship, trying to keep your emotions under wraps on the set of your film. But it seemed that your cast mates had become more observant than you anticipated.

One day, as you and Taylor shared a subtle exchange of glances during a break, you noticed a mischievous smile pass between Emma, one of your co-stars, and Carter, another cast member. Their knowing looks spoke volumes, making you realize that they had been keeping a watchful eye on the two of you.

As the days went by, more instances occurred that hinted at your cast mates' suspicions. They would drop playful hints or make comments that seemed innocent to others but held deeper meaning for you and Taylor. The whispered gossip behind closed doors became more frequent, making it clear that your secret wasn't as hidden as you had hoped.

Faced with this newfound awareness, you and Taylor held a private meeting in the secret hallway, where your love had blossomed. The dim lighting and the familiarity of the space offered solace and comfort as you discussed the situation.

“We can't deny that they're onto us," Taylor admitted, a mix of concern and determination in her eyes. "Our secret isn't as secret as we thought."

You nodded, understanding the need for caution. "It's better to be safe than sorry," you replied softly. "We have to be more careful, even if it means not revealing our relationship to anyone. Quieter.”

Taylor sighed, her fingers intertwining with yours. "I wish we could shout our love from the rooftops, but I agree. For now, we have to protect what we have."

The decision weighed heavily on your hearts, but you knew it was necessary to safeguard your love and maintain a harmonious work environment. The secret hallway, once a place of passionate rendezvous, now became a haven where you strategized and found strength together.

From that day forward, you and Taylor became masters of subtlety. You kept your interactions on set professional, always aware of prying eyes and listening ears. Any longing glances or stolen touches were hidden beneath a façade of friendship, allowing your love to simmer beneath the surface.

It was a challenging task, suppressing your emotions and refraining from displaying your affection openly. But in the quiet moments when you were alone, you found solace in each other's arms, cherishing the stolen moments that only the secret hallway could offer.

As time passed, your cast mates' suspicions seemed to fade, their attention shifting to other matters. The initial intensity of their curiosity waned, leaving you and Taylor with a sense of relief. Yet, you remained vigilant, knowing that the eyes of others were still watchful, even if less openly.

In the end, your secret relationship became a testament to the strength of your connection. It proved that love could thrive even in the most hidden corners, and that the power of shared secrets could strengthen your bond.

And while you yearned for a time when you could openly share your love, you found solace in the whispered exchanges and stolen moments that continued to fuel your passion. The secret hallway, with all its memories and the love it held, became a symbol of resilience—a testament to the enduring power of your love.

#taylor swift #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift imagine #speak now taylor’s version #i can see you #Speak Now #taylor x reader #taylor x y/n #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #taylor Swift x you #taylor Swift x y/n #taylor swift one shot #taylor swift songs #song fic #elijah writes #elijah random

318 notes · View notes

nhlclover · 3 months

Text

snowflakes sparks fly au

✭ — summary: sofia's finally admits her feelings for rutger

✭ — warnings: angst

✭ — a/n: …sorry lol. also i don’t know if i like this soz

✭ — word count: 0.85k

Sofia was struck with nerves, sitting at the café table. Her knee was bouncing and she felt her palms slick with sweat. She honestly couldn't believe she was doing this.

Based on Rutgers text, Sofia had about 3 minutes to perfect her speech. Maybe she should steer away from a speech. More of a declaration. Of feelings.

Sofia wasn't entirely sure where this burst of confidence came from. Over the past few weeks, she'd worked up the nerve to tell Rutger about her feelings. He had agreed to meet for coffee, under the guise that Sofia wanted to bounce some ideas off him for their upcoming final essay. In actuality, Sofia was going to tell Rutger how she truly felt about him. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to practically ambush him, but Sofia didn't know how else to do it.

His latest behaviour, with Rutger constantly cancelling and barely talking to her in class, was maybe a sign she shouldn’t do this. Because what if he doesn’t like her back? What if Sofia ruins a friendship that she felt so comfortable in?

These thoughts are immediately gone from her mind as she spots him walking on the sidewalk, approaching the cafe doors. He sits down, his brown hair covered in little snowflakes, slowly melting from the warmth of the café. The sight of him brings a sense of ease.

The new season entering Ann Arbor brought joy to Sofia. She loves the winter season, seeing the snow-coated ground and the surrounding houses beginning to be decorated with lights for the approaching holiday.

"Hey." He smiles.

"Hi." Sofia replies softly.

It's silent for a few moments as Sofia simply looks at the boy across from her. His cheeks were tinged with a light pink hue from the bite of the wind.

"So you wanted to go over the essay?' Rutger probes.

"Oh, uh, I lied." Sofia says. Her heartbeat picks up as she realizes what she is about to say. Rutgers brows furrow as leans on the table in front of him. "I asked you here because I kind of wanted to talk to you about something."

Rutger stays silent allowing Sofia to continue. Any previous plan or words Sofia had thought of went out the window. Her mind was blank with any way to ease into her confession. It was out of her mouth before she knew it.

"I like you." Sofia says.

The words hang in the air as both Sofia and Rutger process what was just said.

Rutgers' thoughts were going a million miles a minute. While Rutger was over the moon that the girl he'd been infatuated with did return his feelings, the fact that she was Luca and Adam's sister was weighing on him. If Rutger and Sofia were to ever date and God forbid something happened and Sofia was left heartbroken, the two Fantilli brothers would never forgive him. He would lose three people he cared about in one fell swoop.

“I like you as…as in more than a friend. I would say I have a crush on you but that feels a little juvenile and I don’t want it to come across as just that I think you’re cute, and don’t get me wrong I do think you’re cute cause, like, wow you are, but I also just really like being around you and—”

Sofia is suddenly very aware of the fact that she has been rambling and shuts her mouth promptly. “I’m sorry, I should let you speak.”

“Sofia…we can’t have feelings for each other.”

Sofia’s caught off guard by his response. “I…I’m sorry?”

“I mean…Sofia come on.” Rutger says. “You’re Adam and Luca’s sister.”

Sofia furrows her brows. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, it would be weird if I dated their sister. I mean I’m best friends with them, they’re practically my brothers.”

“What, it feels like I’m a sister to you?” Sofia asked.

“I guess so.” Rutger says.

Sofia can’t help but let her jaw go slack at his answer. Sofia knew that it would maybe be a bit weird for her to date her brother's friend, but not a complete deal breaker. Sofia nods, suddenly feeling stupid and embarrassed. She was so sure he liked her back.

“I’m going to go.” Sofia says, standing up, the chair scraping against the floor. The tears she knew were inevitable began to brim in her eyes.

“Sofia… Rutger says, reaching for her but she’s just too far.

“No, it’s okay.” She says, wiping away a tear immediately as it escapes. “Good luck at your game tomorrow.”

Sofia leaves, stepping out into the falling snow, flakes delicately landing in her hair and melting on contact. Despite the freezing temperature outside, her body felt like it was on fire. Sweating under her jacket, she walked down the sidewalk at a rapid pace, just wanting to be in her dorm.

Rutgers' response to Sofia confessing her feelings was much more than just rejection. He made her feel small, like a little girl.

She finally reaches her building, collapsing into sobs when she was safely alone inside her dorm. Sofia couldn’t help but feel utterly stupid, having embarrassed herself completely. Crawling under her covers she allowed her emotions to overflow, crying into exhaustion as she replayed the scene in the coffee shop.

#sparks fly au!#sofia x rutger #rutger mcgroarty

102 notes · View notes

cupidjyu · 8 months

Text

red flavor

eric x reader (submission for the cutest tbz summer event💕)

summary: your planned summer getaway doesn’t go as expected and it’s only you and eric, your childhood best friend. but, new feelings may just join you on your little vacation

genre: summer time!! beach house, childhood friends to lovers (my absolute fav btw), fluff, eric pining for years, getting together, cute little memories, feelings realization, juyeons just there for a second, slow dancing, slight hurt/comfort, eric's love language is fixing your hair, author is a big red velvet fan if you couldn't tell, love confession notes: this is more of a character/relationship study so if youre expecting a super simple oneshot with lesser description then im sorry🥲 songs mentioned are from this specific summer album LOL word count: 7.8k

Sometimes, you just liked to observe. A lot of people did anyway for various reasons. Some people, like your friend Juyeon, observed for the sake of reading others’ needs and emotions. He was always the one to notice when you were upset and he would hurry to make horrible puns just to make you laugh.

Other people, like Eric who’s been your best friend since the age when you two couldn’t even reach the kitchen counter, observed for the sake of learning who a person was as a whole. He was the one who took note of your tendency to shift energies and he would adjust his own to match yours.

You, on the other hand, liked to observe simply because what you saw brought you back to the past. You treasured good memories, so being able to see them again in the future brought a sense of joy to your heart like a flickering lightbulb.

In Eric’s room, there was a lot to observe that brought back the past. The broken science project of the solar system because you two were dancing too much late at night, the cut-out superhero mask that was supposed to be Eric’s last-minute Halloween costume in middle school, and the foolish paper heart that sparked it all in the first place.

Sitting on his bed, you then observed your two closest friends. Juyeon was on his phone whilst drinking from a water bottle—which he comically once tripped on that led to his lunch tray and its contents flying into your clothes. But that was how you became friends anyway. Eric was simply doodling in his sketchbook with a small, content smile. Just like he had done on that same paper heart in elementary school.

You felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you were met with a boy, about your age with a backpack on that was much too big for him. He had a kind smile and bright eyes.

And then he shoved a red, paper heart in your hands. Though, it took you a second to realize if it even was one with the edges so raggedly cut.

Bringing it up to your face, you read the large, shaky letters with your newly obtained skill of reading words.

“Will you marry me?”

Young Eric simply had bad comprehension skills. Apparently, he wasn't proposing. He just wanted to become friends.

“How does ‘marry me’ and ‘be my friend’ sound at all similar?” You muttered to yourself.

Eric looked up and groaned. “You’re still on that? I was a baby back then. A cute one at that.”

“An annoying one at that.”

Eric was about to argue back but Juyeon had spoken up with his lovely and calm voice.

“Let’s not fight. We have a trip to look forward to.”

The two of you immediately brightened at his reminder—the Summer Getaway. The three of you called it that because you all sucked at coming up with a better name. It was the trip that you had been planning since the first year of high school. The beach house to rent, the seaside to visit, everything already was laid out. And after so many years of fumbling with life and its many obstacles, it was finally happening.

“Tomorrow!” Eric sat up. “You’re all going to witness my dreamy beach boy actor debut.”

Juyeon looked at him, unimpressed. “And who’s the love interest?”

You snorted, turning your gaze over to Eric, only for him to be looking straight at you. Widening your eyes, you stuttered in confusion.

“No one,” He curtly said, turning away suddenly, his ears slightly red.

It was awkwardly silent. Until Juyeon nervously laughed. “What about clothes? Summer outfits?” He rambled. “We have to take a lot of pictures.”

You nodded, smiling excitedly. “I bought some just for this trip actually.” You frowned. “My paycheck practically disappeared.”

Juyeon laughed. “Was it as expensive as your prom outfit?”

Again, memories rushed back to you. More negative this time. With a frustrated sigh, you grimaced. “Let’s not bring that up. It was so bad, I looked horrible.”

Juyeon shook his head sympathetically. But your ears picked up someone else’s voice.

“I think you looked beautiful,” You heard Eric whisper. But maybe you were imagining things.

“Too bad my date dumped me the day after,” You continued.

“He was horrible for that,” Juyeon remarked.

“That’s why you should’ve taken me,” Eric piped up. He got up to sit next to you on the bed. And to your surprise, his hand gently came up to your hair to smooth it down. But of course, that's what friends did.

You nodded in agreement. “I should have. You looked handsome that day.”

Eric glanced at you briefly and you could catch the sight of his cheeks turning red. “Of course I did,” He stammered.

“Then why didn’t you ask anyone out for prom?” You questioned. “You went all alone.”

“Because you—“ Eric sighed, hurt flitting across his expression. “Nevermind.”

Juyeon coughed anxiously. “So!” He blurted. “The trip! Let’s talk about the trip tomorrow.”

—

“Where’s Juyeon?” Eric called out when he noticed you approaching the car. Yes, you prepared so much for the trip that you even had the car inspected and tested the driver—Eric—to make sure he could properly drive without swerving from talking too much. He did talk a lot.

You shrugged, lugging your bag packed with all the things you needed.

“He’s not here yet?” You frowned.

Eric shook his head with a worried look. “Usually he’s the early one.”

You hummed, standing next to him. And then you looked him over. He had dressed differently, his hair swept up nicely and his skin glowed golden in the sun. You wouldn't admit it but he did give off “dreamy beach boy” as corny as it may have sounded.

After a few minutes, you were about to call Juyeon to make sure he didn’t oversleep until you heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, you breathed out a sigh of relief.

“What took you so long?” You complained.

Juyeon furrowed his eyebrows and that was when you realized that he did not have a single piece of luggage with him.

“I can’t go,” He breathlessly responded.

Eric inhaled sharply. “What?”

“There’s been an emergency,” Juyeon whined. “Involving my cat.”

You pouted knowing very well that Juyeon absolutely adored his cat and would drop anything for the feline, including this trip that you’d all been planning years ago.

“But go without me,” Juyeon rushed to say. “I don’t want to hold you both back.”

The two of you silently stared at him, disappointment and guilt holding grim over your faces.

“Please.” His eyes softened. “Just make sure to send pictures.”

—

The car ride that was initially meant to be a karaoke session, turned into a quiet silence. It wasn’t awkward, no, it was never awkward between you and Eric. But it was solemn.

“He did say he’d be fine,” Eric spoke, flipping the right turn signal.

You sighed. “But you know him. He always likes to hide his disappointment.”

Eric shook his head. “He would be more disappointed if he knew we weren’t having fun.”

You thought for a moment. And then you nodded because it was true. You often observed that Juyeon would smile whenever you or Eric would smile first. He was like an older brother to you.

“Okay. Then I’m choosing the first song.” A devilish smile appeared on your lips as you queued up the music.

“Go ahead,” Eric laughed.

When you pressed play, he gasped. He glanced at you with acknowledgment accompanied by a slight wince. “Is this…”

“Mhm,” You giggled. “The song we sang together when we got drunk for the first time?”

“The headache I had after,” Eric groaned. “Never again.” You smiled at the fond memory.

“And you’re such a clingy drunk.”

“I was not.”

“You literally hugged me and kissed my cheek,” You deadpanned. “You even said—“

Eric had his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a warm back hug, so tight that you could feel his hips and chest pressed up against your back. He smelled faintly of cherry wine and from the corner of your eye, you could see his adorably flushed cheeks and the dazed look in his eyes. “Please, don’t ever leave,” He cried, snuggling his face into your neck. “You’re so special to me.”

But then again, that’s just what friends say, right?

Your best friend looked at you in confusion. Ah, he must have forgotten.

“What did I say?”

“Nothing,” You muttered. Choosing to change the topic, you turned up the volume. And soon enough, you were dancing and singing along to the song like you were on cloud nine. Eric chuckled to himself as he watched you with soft eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips.

You glared playfully. “Eyes on the road, sir.”

Eric rolled his eyes but obliged. For safety, of course. When the song ended, you sat back in your seat and you looked at him. Sometimes you forgot that Eric wasn’t a little boy who played hide and seek with you anymore. He was a man who had grown up to be… fairly attractive. His jawline was sharp now, he was taller, and he had muscles from his endless workouts that you would constantly walk in on him doing. You could see that from the way he had rolled up his sleeves to reveal his forearms, handling the steering wheel with one hand. Taking a gulp, you quickly looked away. What were you thinking?

“Eyes on me?” He lifted an eyebrow, glancing at you teasingly.

You cleared your throat. “No, I— You just look bad today.”

“Mhm,” He hummed smugly. “Sure.”

And for some reason, your cheeks felt unusually warm.

It was a long road trip so naturally, that meant that the evening would come. It was dark out now and the music was long turned off. At some point, you had fallen asleep, the sound of the car engine lulling you easily.

Whilst you were dreaming of a beach house lit naturally by the bright sun, Eric took a glimpse at you. He smiled to himself affectionately, staying quiet. But it faltered when he noticed you shiver from the cool night air.

Parking to the side for a moment, he reached back to pull out a blanket. Carefully and lovingly, he placed it over you, trying not to wake you up.

But, you always had the tendency to wake up whenever the car was stopped so you felt every single sensation with your eyes still closed. The warmth of his fingertips brushing against your arm, the rhythm of your quickening heartbeat, and… the press of a soft pair of lips on your forehead.

But maybe it was just a dream.

When Eric had started driving, before you dozed off again, you could hear him humming a song. A song that you recognized. A love song.

—

The house was ten times better than what it looked like in the pictures. The exterior of it looked like it came straight out of those real estate magazines. Palm trees decorated the scene and if you had simply turned around, you would be met with the breathtaking sight of the beach with its clear, almost sparkling ocean. Scrambling to explore the inside, you were surprised to see just how big it was. The ceiling was tall and the interior was embellished with various decorations.

“This is what we deserve after practicing good financial habits for all those years,” You marveled, opening all the doors to reveal gorgeous rooms that were bright simply from the sunlight outside. Just like you had dreamed about. Eric hummed, trailing behind you, taking in the house silently, as opposed to your constant awes.

Finally, the two of you ended up in the master bedroom.

Turning to him slowly, you put on your best puppy-like impression. “Can I have this one?”

Eric looked at you thoroughly unimpressed. “Is that the best you could do?”

You even pouted this time. He still stared back, completely unabashed. At a loss, you leaned in close, right up to his face. And for some reason, almost immediately, he was backing away with reddening cheeks.

“O-okay,” He stuttered. “Fine. You can have this one.”

Cheering, you flopped down on the bed, and with a sigh, you looked out the window dreamily. “If only my room was this neat all the time. It’s always messy.”

Eric huffed, lying down next to you. You turned your head to him and smiled softly at his serene expression as he looked up to the ceiling.

“You can always call me if you need someone to clean your room,” He mumbled. “I’m the neatest after all.”

“Ah…” You breathed. “You’re right. Last time when you–”

“Knock, knock.” You could hear Eric’s voice from outside your door. With a slight sniffle, you brought the covers over your face, curling up to yourself. Being hit with a sudden slump that left you unable to do anything except lie in bed defeated wasn’t entirely ideal.

Your room was an absolute mess and when Eric had called you, he immediately could tell from your voice that you were having a hard time. You heard the door opening and him entering the room. He stood there silently for a moment. But suddenly, you could hear various sounds. Trash being picked up, clothes being folded… peeking your head outside of your blankets, you realized that he was cleaning up for you.

With tears welling up in your eyes at his kind actions, you sniffled even louder. Eric instantly looked up at the sound and he was right by your side. He pulled you into a hug, whispering sweet, sweet words in your ear as his hand stroked the back of your head soothingly.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” He had whispered, pulling away so that he could brush a strand of hair out of your face gently. Even caressing your cheek, he had let you fall asleep against his chest.

But that’s what friends do, right?

Clearing your throat, you sat up abruptly. Eric followed, staring at you with slight perplexion. Suddenly, you turned to him.

“I never got to say thank you,” You blurted out. “For taking care of me that one time. So… thank you.”

And you had feared he would question what you were talking about. But instead, he nodded with a small smile.

“Of course,” He chuckled casually. “I’ll always care for you, dummy.”

You smiled at that and then you lunged forward, pulling him into a hug. With your sheer force, he fell back on the bed. And just like that, it was the two of you, giggling and hugging each other, arms wrapped around warmly, in the midst of a beautiful beach house.

–

After unpacking and getting everything in order, you were so exhausted that you had fallen asleep almost immediately. But waking up in the morning was refreshing, with the bright sunshine pouring straight onto your face, warming you up perfectly. With a satisfied yawn and stretch, you walked out of your room, still dressed in your sleepwear.

But you paused abruptly when you saw Eric standing in the kitchen, apron tied around his waist and his sleeves rolled up again. He looked up and he smiled.

“Let’s cook together today.”

You gave him a pained smile and approached him. Before you could even say anything, he was leaning in to brush the messy strands of hair out of your face from just waking up. You’ve always noticed how gentle his hands were on you. When with Juyeon, he was rough and playful. But with you… he treated you like a piece of glass.

“We still suck though,” You complained.

“All the more reason to practice?” He gave you a quirked-up smile.

Late at night, Eric was sleeping over. But suddenly, he had sprung up, startling you from your dozing off.

“I’m hungry,” He grumbled. “Let’s cook something.”

And that was how you found yourself, half-asleep in the kitchen, figuring out how to make a simple dish from an old cookbook in one of your drawers. The two of you tried so hard, following each and every direction, only for it to taste like burnt pieces of garbage.

And so, Eric, with a sleepy, raspy voice, had to order takeout. You were silent until your eyes landed on the failed attempt once again. It looked like a blob of black, green, and somehow… pink. And soon enough, you were bent over the counter, laughing so hard over the monstrosity. You had expected Eric to join in on your laughing fit but instead, he had put down his phone and only stared at you fondly.

His eyes were sparkling as they met with yours and he had on the softest tug of his lips. Something in his expression made you stop laughing over how embarrassed you had gotten. Why was he looking at you like that? Almost like he…

But that’s just how friends look at each other, is it not?

“You look focused,” Eric remarked, brushing past you to flip the pancakes.

“Huh? Oh– yeah,” You breathed out. “I just… remembered something.”

“What’s up?”

And again, he looked at you like that. Eyes warm and gentle on yours, his smile small yet so, so fond. Your eyes trailed down to where his hand had reached forward, near your waist to steady you from bumping into the sharp corner of the counter. Your cheeks immediately warmed up as you abruptly turned around.

“N-nothing.”

–

After breakfast and getting ready, you headed out to the nearby outdoor market. It was a beautiful, yet bustling sight. People were in every corner, every stall, buying various things like seashell necklaces and cute jellyfish lamps. Your eyes were practically shimmering and you quickly grabbed hold of Eric’s wrist to pull him along.

At the first stall, a woman was selling beautiful leis. You gasped, picking one up and showing your best friend. He grinned and nodded expectantly.

“What’re you waiting for? Put it on,” He joked.

You laughed and shook your head. Instead, you stepped forward, looping the pink and purple flower garland around his neck. You could hear the small intake from his lips as he looked down at you, eyes wide. Maybe, you were a bit too close to him. But, you didn’t think much of it as you continued to adjust it and admire the colors that complimented him perfectly.

Well, up until a child had run past, bumping into you and causing you to fall straight into Eric’s arms.

“Oh, I–” You gulped, feeling a warm hand close around your waist, holding you steady.

“Sorry,” He muttered nervously, his cheeks flushing.

“It’s okay,” You whispered, peering up at him, still pressed against his body. He gazed back and his eyes began to slowly trail down to your… With a cough, you pulled away, refusing to look him in the eye. His hands were always gentle.

Again, you took his wrist to lead him somewhere else. But that was when you felt him pull away. For a second, you thought you might have lost him in the crowd, but he was still right behind you. Instead, his hand closed around yours, his fingers—rough from playing baseball in his free time—intertwining firmly around. You tried to ignore the quickening pace of your heart.

“So you don’t get lost,” He teased.

“You’re the one who gets lost the most,” You retorted, your voice slightly shaky.

At the next stall, there were plushies displayed for sale. Some were badly sewn, like the cat missing a buttoned eye. But some were particularly cute, especially the white bunny keychain, sitting on one of the shelves.

“Hey,” You mumbled, approaching it. Both ears were intact and upright. “This reminds me of…”

Clutching the bunny plushie with the price tag attached to its ear close to your chest, you looked at Eric with a pleading look.

“Please,” You complained. “Let me buy it. I promise I’ll pay you back tomorrow. Hm?”

Eric looked at you with narrowed eyes, switching his gaze from you to the plushie. And then he sighed, taking it from your hand. With hopeful eyes, you watched as he walked to the shelf and put it back. And just like that, all your dreams were crushed.

“C’mon.” He urged you away. “That’s dumb.”

“But you know my favorite animals are bunnies,” You whined. But still, you followed him out of the store.

About a week later, he showed up at your door. It was your birthday after all so when your eyes landed on the small present box in your hands, you smiled with delight. He tilted his head with a shy smile.

“Happy birthday,” He whispered, leaning in to pull you into a hug. “I know this isn’t great, but I tried my best.” He smiled at you sheepishly.

When you opened it, sitting inside was a small plushie. Of a bunny. It was so, so badly made, the stitches mangled and the ears practically falling off. But it was so… Eric.

“Is that why you didn’t let me buy the other one?” You questioned, clutching it close to your chest protectively.

He nodded with a completely serious expression. “I didn’t need unnecessary competition.”

And despite rolling your eyes at his comment, you found yourself carefully placing the plushie right at your bedside so it was the first thing you saw when you woke up.

And to this day, you still have it.

But that’s just what friends do… you think.

Eric had read your mind and quickly, he was grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the stall.

“My sewing skills could be better,” He said with an embarrassed look on his face. You laughed in response. Before you could even say anything else, he was reaching forward to clasp a necklace around your neck. He was so, so close that you could feel his breath across your lips and smell his scent which reminded you a lot like cotton candy.

“When did you get this?” You whispered, looking down at it. It was a small seashell shaped like a heart.

“Few minutes ago.” He smiled. “But you didn’t notice.”

“I love it.” You grinned. And just like that, you hadn’t reached for his wrist this time, but straight for his hand. With fingers intertwined, the two of you walked down the rest of the market, smiling and laughing all throughout the sunset.

–

Another day had passed and the two of you had mostly stayed inside the beach house, due to the cloudy weather ruining the mood. It was fun nonetheless, watching movies and even playing board games. Which, Eric won all three of them for some reason. You simply call it luck.

Now, laying in your bed, you felt yourself grow drowsy over the ambient noise of the rain pattering on the windows and the occasional rumble of thunder. Sometimes, there would be a flash of light outside–lightning, but you were much too tired to really care.

Just as your eyes were about to shut close, you heard a knock on the door.

“Eric?” You whispered, your voice croaky from sleep.

The door creaked open, and there he was, dressed in a comfy t-shirt. You recognized it. The one that he had once let you borrow because you had spilled coffee all over yourself. It was warm and… well, it smelled just like him.

“What happened?” You frowned, sitting up. He stepped closer and if you looked closely, you could see the tinge of red on his cheeks.

��...you know,” He muttered.

You did know.

Your phone rang, startling you out of your sleep. Despite your initial grumpiness, you picked up when you realized it was your best friend.

“Eric?”

A deep breath from the other line. And then–

“Can you come over?”

You looked at the time. It was two in the morning.

“Why?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’m… scared of thunderstorms.” You could even hear his voice tremble. And just like that, you were out the door, umbrella in hand. But the rain was so heavy that it managed to seep into your clothes and hair anyway, leaving you drenched by the time you reached his door.

At the sound of the doorbell, Eric flung the door open. You couldn’t even get a word in because he was pulling you in and he was throwing his arms around you, scrambling to hold you close, his hands grasping onto your shirt tightly. You smiled softly as you hugged him back, even if you were getting his clothes wet too.

“I missed you,” He whispered, tightening his hold. “So much.”

You laughed softly. “I’m right here. You saw me yesterday already, didn’t you?”

“I–” He grumbled, pulling away. His lips were pulled into a tight frown as he searched your eyes with a deeper meaning behind them. “I always miss you.”

That’s not… how friends act, do they?

“Want to sleep here?” You patted the spot next to you, even bringing an extra pillow and adjusting the blankets.

“Gladly,” He grinned. “That’s why I came here in the first place.” In only a matter of seconds, he was climbing into bed with you. The two of you never… slept in the same bed together but it felt so natural with the way your arms wrapped around him and he had snuggled up to your chest.

This is definitely how friends act.

–

The next day was boring. You all had planned it to be the day where each one of you would go off and do whatever separately as a way to individually relax. But, you realized just how much Eric was a part of your life. Wandering the gardens, you found yourself thinking of his stupid puns and his even stupider smile. Truth be told, Eric was always with you. The two of you never went a week without seeing each other. Any much longer than that and Eric was clinging and hugging you for the whole day, saying he needed to “recharge.”

Finally, in the evening, you saw Eric again. He was wearing a comfy, zip-up jacket since the evenings tended to get chilly and his hair was adorably messy. Adorably? Since when did you think that?

“Want to sit with me?” He leaned against the doorway. “My room has a better view.” You nodded brightly and followed him.

You had never noticed just how beautiful the scenery actually was from his room. Your room mostly pointed towards the various palm trees. But his room, with its wide and tall window that overlooked the whole beach, was different. The two of you sat together on the bed, knees drawn up to your chests, as you observed the constant motion of the ocean water moving back and forth, creating bubbles with it. The night sky was dark, yet it sparkled with twinkling stars dotted across it.

When you looked over, you saw Eric, looking out the window too. The moonlight shone perfectly on his face, accentuating each of his handsome features. His kind eyes, the slope of his nose, his plush lips that shaped into a soft smile.

He was always handsome. You always knew that. But something about this moment, right now, left your eyes widening, cheeks flushing, and your heart pounding.

“What do you mean you lost the grocery list?” You whined. “Juyeon wanted this huge Christmas feast. I can’t bear to disappoint him.”

Eric grimaced. “I swear, my dog ate it.”

“You don’t even have a dog.”

The two of you continued to bicker, walking down the numerous aisles of the grocery store, trying to figure out the ingredients to make Juyeon’s favorite food until an elderly couple stopped you in your tracks.

“Aren’t you both an adorable couple?” The woman cooed.

Your jaw dropped and you turned to Eric, only to find that he didn’t share the same shocked expression. He was smiling almost… shyly, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Oh, just look at the way he looks at them,” The man pointed out before turning to his wife. “Just like I had looked at you all those years ago.”

The woman laughed bashfully, batting him away. Then, she turned back to Eric with kind eyes.

“You must love them a lot.” She said with a kind smile.

You were about to jump in and refute, explain everything was all a lie, that you both were just really good friends up until–

“I do,” Eric replied. He looked at you with that same look that he’d been looking at you for ages now. The softening gaze and slight tug of his lips… it was like you were the flame to his wooden match. “I truly do.”

That’s not how friends act.

You swallowed thickly, all words caught in your throat for a moment. That particular moment often flitted past your mind briefly because you thought that he was just playing along. But now that you think about it…

“Did you mean it?” You finally whispered.

He turned to you with a confused smile. “Mean what?”

“That you… love me.” You studied his face for an answer and you had hoped that you wouldn’t find one—that you wouldn’t see the absolutely smitten look on his face that would further complicate your friendship that’s already lasted decades. But you saw it. The smitten look, right there in front of you. It was there and it gave you all the answers that you needed.

He was quiet, watching you with a tender look in his eyes. And then he leaned to the side, bumping his shoulder with yours lightly.

“I meant it,” He replied, smiling to himself shyly. You gazed at him in shock. “But...” He turned to you, his smile faltering slightly. “However you want to interpret that is up to you.”

You bit your lip and tilted your head so that it was resting on his shoulder. It was odd but not that surprising how well it fits in the crook of his neck, almost as if you were always meant to be there. You didn’t say anything right away, instead, choosing to watch the waves roll, over and over. But everything reminded you of the man sitting right beside you. The bright stars in the sky were just like the mischievous twinkle that he would have in his eyes before he would tackle you into a hug and the crystal clear water that flowed in and out on the sand was just like the steady pounding of your heartbeat whenever you caught sight of his pretty smile.

“As friends or romantically?” You spoke, so quietly that Eric had to lean in even closer to hear you, his hair brushing against your forehead.

He hummed ambiguously. “Whatever you want.” But you could hear the slight tremor in his deep voice.

His words only further answered your question. No matter how hard he would try to make it so that it was all up to you, you could sense everything. The soft tone of his voice, his warm hand covering yours, and his calm breathing. You could sense his feelings. Each and every one of them, like his heart was beating directly through yours.

Slowly, the rustle of the palm trees and the natural sound of his slow breaths gently pulled you into a state of drowsiness. Shuffling so that your whole side was pressed up to his, you leaned closer, nuzzling your cheek into his warm shoulder. And gradually, your eyes closed, sleep overcoming you peacefully.

He smiled down at you, gently bringing you to lie down on the bed. He pulled the blankets over you, tucking you in snugly. And then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, gazing at you with so much warmth.

“Romantically,” He whispered, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “It’s always been romantically.”

–

You had woken up to a text from Juyeon. And yes, you have been sending pictures to him, mostly consisting of blurry selfies of you posing perfectly and Eric who wasn’t even looking at the camera, constantly distracted.

Stretching, you realized that you weren’t in your bed. You were in Eric’s bed. And just like that, all the memories came rushing back to you. Romantically or as friends? As friends or romantically? Whichever one was it?

Shaking your head, you opened the text.

Juyeon: did you do the last activity on the itinerary yet?

Juyeon: the beach party

And so there you were, dressed in one of your summer outfits, flowy and perfect for the weather. Eric was beside you, staring in awe at the scene. The two of you had never quite made it to the beach, being so preoccupied with other places to explore. But now that you were here, the sand soft under you and the sun setting in the background, you couldn’t help but smile dearly. You had waited excitedly for this moment really, as Juyeon had claimed that this was a surprise made by him and he had hired someone to set it up.

And set up it was. String lights and lanterns were scattered about, lighting up the scene. There were chairs set up, made to sit together and watch the calm ocean. And on the right, there was a speaker to play music.

“Well isn’t this pretty?” You mumbled, your mouth agape.

Eric smiled, turning to look right at you. “Very pretty.”

Wordlessly, he took your hand in his, leading you toward the lanterns. It wasn’t really a party anymore. You couldn’t help but think that this was actually a beach… a beach date.

You sat down in one of the chairs and you watched as Eric picked up his phone to put on music. Immediately, you recognized the song.

“You Better Know?” You laughed, remembering all the times you and Eric had belted out Red Velvet songs after failing an exam to cope with the feeling of failure. It never really worked but it was fun either way.

He shrugged with a charming smile. He began to dance slightly as he walked away to pick up seashells that were scattered across the beach. You watched silently, leaning forward as you let your eyes wander over your best friend.

Eric truly no longer was the messy boy who scribbled outside the lines on coloring books or the boy who repeatedly tripped on the playground causing his knees to get scraped. He no longer was the boy who experienced constant voice cracks or who struggled in exams because he had overslept with dark circles under his eyes.

Instead, he was a man with a deeper voice, broader shoulders, and a charming middle part in his hair as opposed to the disorderly, overgrown middle school hairstyle he always had. He was a man who had ditched the dark hoodies in his angsty teenager phase, instead opting for white, flowy button-up shirts that complimented his golden skin perfectly. He even reminded you of Prince Eric–ironically, enough–from The Little Mermaid.

Eric no longer was the boy that you simply were best friends with. He was a man who you have fallen in love with. And you had no idea for how long.

Standing up silently, you approached him. He looked up at you, giving you a soft smile, a beautiful white seashell in his hand.

“Here,” He said, taking your hand in his. He placed the shell in yours, gazing at you with so much affection that you felt a shudder all throughout your spine. “For you.”

You smiled, looking down at it. It was round, embellished with small ridges. It was perfect. The faint sound of the upbeat, song playing in the background as you looked up at him with sparkles in your eyes.

“Eric,” You started. “I have to tell you something.”

And for some reason, he had leaned forward, pressing a finger to your lips to shush you. You let out a muffled sound, gaping at him in bewilderment.

“Eric?”

“Let me speak first,” He whispered.

You inhaled sharply…

“Romantically.”

…held your breath…

“My answer is romantically.”

… and exhaled shakily, processing his confession, one word at a time. But before you could, Eric was saying more.

“For the longest time, I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Ever since I saw you back in elementary school. And mayhaps, I did mean that stupid ‘will you marry me?’ statement,” He chuckled. He reached forward taking your other hand in his, wrapping his fingers around. “Over time I… I tried to get over you. But, since you’re my best friend I couldn’t distance myself. So I accidentally fell in love.”

You felt your heart pound at his words, all of your memories rushing back in full force. It all had started to make sense. The acts of service when you weren’t feeling well, the soft looks when you were only laughing, the homemade gifts even though he claimed that he hated making things, and the… words. The specific word love.

“Eric, I…”

“Ah, wait,” He laughed. “This song.”

Red Flavor by Red Velvet. The classic, happy summer song.

And suddenly, he reached forward, pulling you in by the waist. “Can I sing for you?”

You snorted, your cheeks flushing once you registered the warmth of his large hand on the small of your back. “This song?”

“Mhm,” He hummed, grinning. “This song.”

And before you could retort, he actually started singing, Swaying you from left to right, his arms continuously wrapped around you, his deep voice resonated through the cozy summer night, igniting each and every star one by one. He sang the pre-chorus, gazing at you with affection and well, love.

"I like you, it was love at first sight. I keep thinking of you." His lips pulled up into a soft smile as he sang, his voice husky and a great contrast to the higher-pitched voices of the actual song. You were enamored, your heart beating right against his chest as you watched him silently, watching as he sang so, so, gently. Only for you and for you only. “I want to go my own way.”

And then the chorus started with its fun beat and cheerful singing. You giggled, placing your hands on his chest, leaning forward to hide in his neck.

“This song does not fit the moment right now,” You remarked, smiling against his skin. You could feel the vibration of his deep laugh as he held you closer, his hands stroking your sides gently.

“But at least it got the confession down. So, what’s your answer?”

You laughed, pulling away to look up at him lovingly. He smiled down at you, his eyes wandering over each of your features fondly.

“The very last line,” You replied. He had grown silent at that, listening to each of the lyrics, waiting for the end. And then–

What I like the most is you in the summer.

Eric widened his eyes and he looked down at you hopefully. “Really?”

You nodded, your cheeks flushing. “Not just like. Love.”

“Oh, wow,” He breathed out. And again, just like he had done all those other times, he brushed a piece of hair out of your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with sparks accompanying it. “God, I’m so in love,” He muttered. And just like that, the next song had started—Hear The Sea—playing softly in the background.

You laughed, “Did you just put on a whole Red Velvet playlist?”

“And what about it?” He grinned. “It’s summer.” And slowly, he pulled away, not before looping your hand in his. His hand rested on your waist, holding you close. To the calm singing and beautiful instrumental of the song, the two of you danced. Sometimes, either one of you would trip on the sand, causing an endeared laugh here and there. But mostly, the silence between you was filled with soft smiles and flushed cheeks.

Even though Eric no longer was the boy who ran around when it was summertime, he always would be the boy with the most beautiful smile.

His eyes were bright on yours, watching you closely as the two of you swayed slowly to the music.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this for?” He whispered.

You shook your head, feeling hot all over.

“So long,” He continued. “I’ve always longed to dance with you.”

You smiled. “And what else?”

“Hold you.”

You hummed. “You always loved doing that.”

But then his eyes darkened on you for a moment. “And… kiss you. Though I haven’t done that one yet.”

Your breath hitched, your dancing coming to a halt. “Then do it.”

He gazed at you softly. “Are you sure? There’s no rush.”

“Think for yourself.” You giggled. “How long exactly have you waited to kiss me?”

He paused, and both of his hands came down to grasp your waist this time. “Years. I’ve waited for years.” He looked at you shyly, his eyes adorably hopeful and loving.

“Then act.”

And so he did.

Almost aggravatingly slow–as if to make sure he really had your consent–he tilted his head and he softly placed his lips on yours. Shutting your eyes closed, you allowed yourself to get lost in the addictive feeling, the soft pull of your lips and the gentle grasping of your waist as he pulled you so close that your bodies were flush against each other.

It was like everything was drowned out. In your ears, you could no longer hear the crash of the waves on the shore. Instead, you could only make out the quiet, satisfied hum that escaped Eric’s parted lips. You couldn’t feel the summer breeze blowing against your skin, you could only feel the warmth of the palm of his hand as it came to cup your jaw, tipping your head slightly so he could kiss further.

It was a soft kiss, filled with sparks that would set off fireworks in the very pit of your stomach. Slow movements without fervor, as it was just Eric, kissing you like he must have been dreaming of doing all these years. The hand on your waist fit perfectly around you and so you couldn’t help but melt into his touch, stepping closer. Eric huffed out a quiet laugh as he blindly guided your hand to where his heart was where you could only feel it beat and beat and beat.

And with a tap against his chest, the two of you broke apart, lips red and slightly swollen. You stared at him in silence before bursting out into shy laughter, lunging forward to hide your face in his shoulder. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you once again, but this time with a different feeling. Love, maybe.

“Who knew that this trip would force me to confess?” He wondered to himself.

“Good.” You scowled. “You took too long.”

“Oh?” He smirked. “But look who finally figured out their feelings on this very trip?”

Your cheeks flushed and you playfully shoved him. “Stop it.”

“Say it.”

You frowned in confusion. “Say what?”

“You know what I mean,” He teased. “I want to hear you.”

You gulped and looked down at the sand. “That I… love you?”

“Mhm,” He hummed. “I love you too.”

And then he pulled something out of his pocket. When he unfolded it, he placed it in your hand which was still clutching onto the seashell. You looked down, only to realize that it was another red, paper heart. Written in neater, more legible handwriting this time, were the words,

“Will you date me?”

“Ah,” You breathed out. “So you finally get the words right.”

He rolled his eyes. “Is that a yes or no, my beautiful?”

“My,” You laughed. “If you use my, then that means I’m already yours.”

“You’ve always been mine.” His eyes sparkled.

“Then my answer is yes,” You whispered before smiling and leaning up to peck his lips once again. He was about to pull you into a full-fledged kiss but you giggled before running away, kicking behind flurries of sand. Eric groaned and he began to chase you down the shoreline.

“You can’t do that after you’ve just kissed me!” He complained.

“Too bad.” You stuck your tongue out. His frown turned into a fond smile as he laughed and ran after you.

You didn’t know exactly when, but the two of you somehow ended up in the water–clothes that weren’t meant for swimming, thoroughly soaked.

He looked at you with a loving smile as he waded over to you, his hair slightly damp from your splashing. Huffing out a fond laugh, he quickly trapped you into his embrace. And then he turned you, his back to the rest of the ocean so that you wouldn’t be hit by the waves. Smiling at you, he pulled you back in, his lips, wet from the water, pressing onto yours.

“You taste like the ocean.” You grinned after pulling away.

“And you taste delicious.”

“Oh my.” You gasped. “Why are you flirty now? I only know the clumsy, foolish Eric.”

“There’s much more to learn about me,” He whispered, grinning widely as he reached a hand out of the water to brush away a strand that had stuck to your forehead. “Just you wait. I’d even write a whole novel for you. And you know I failed literature class.”

You laughed, clearly remembering the defeated look on his face when he had checked his exam grade.

“I learned something already,” You quietly said. A particularly harsh wave almost shoved you both off your feet, but Eric was quick to steady you with his hands. Always so gentle and firm.

“And what’s that?”

“That you’re an excellent kisser.”

He laughed adorably before pressing a kiss to your lips again.

“And I knew something already,” He uttered. "For a while now."

“Hm?” A smile grew on your face.

“That I’m so–” A peck on your cheek. “So…” Another on the tip of your nose. “So in love with you.” And finally, a kiss on your lips.

The truth is, that neither of you cared if the ocean was trying its best to knock you both over. Your blooming love and soft, adoring smiles in between kisses were steady enough to hold you up.

Because that’s just how friends act. Or more specifically, how two best friends who fell in love with each other act.

–

You sent one thing to Juyeon on the last day of your trip. Attached, was a selfie of the two of you, kissing softly, the ocean and the moon in the background.

Juyeon immediately opened it. And then the bubbles of his texting appeared and disappeared, for over three minutes. When his message appeared, you laughed loudly at the one word that appeared on the screen.

Juyeon: finally

#deoboyznet #dbn: summer on you #fics 💞#the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #tbz x reader #eric sohn x reader #eric sohn fluff

272 notes · View notes