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zarameraki · 4 months

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♡₊˚🔪・₊✧ 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝘁. 𝟭₊˚🔪・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 obsessed at the first glance 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 masturbation (toji time) 𖥔 "she's mine even if she doesn't know it yet" 𖥔 age gap 𖥔 he's downright depraved for you

: ̗̀➛ word count: 3.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: happy new year, mamas! and happy belated birthday to my baby daddy. y'all have no idea how fun it is to write toji fics. i've got a hundred already lined up. i'm going to make this a full series but for now here is part one of what's about to come (haha get it? oh god. i need help)

The first time Toji laid his eyes on you was the morning after he’d finished yet another one of his assassination cases.

There you were, seated on a picnic mat, a serene oasis in the bustling sea of activity. The wind danced through your hair, and you were engrossed in a book, your legs tucked comfortably beneath you. The music in your headphones created a private sanctuary, shielding you from the cacophony of playful children, picnicking families, and the vibrant hum of the city's summer.

Toji found himself rooted to the spot.

Oblivious to the annoyed cyclists and the world rushing past him, he stood there, captivated. It was as though he had stumbled upon a deity crafted solely for him.

You briefly raised your gaze, taking a momentary break from the confines of the small text.

Toji couldn't believe his luck as he found himself mesmerized by the tantalizing sight before him. Despite his best efforts to maintain composure, a telltale bulge in his sweatpants betrayed the mark you had on him. There you were, blissfully unaware, sipping from a water bottle that seemed almost rehearsed.

His fixation deepened as he observed every nuance of your movements—the curve of your mouth, the delicate way your throat accommodated the liquid, and the small hands that gripped the oversized bottle. He imagined his cock instead and flinched from the way his dick twitched. The simple act of you licking your lower lip and unbuttoning the top buttons of your dress shirt to fan yourself from the heat sent shivers down his spine.

You just had to start tying your hair up.

Taking a deep breath, Toji briskly walked towards a nearby public restroom and locked himself in one of the vacant stalls.

His back pressed against the wall as he lowered his sweatpants and pulled his thick, trembling cock out, pre-cum trickling from the tip. He lowered his eyes and visualized you on your knees, grabbing his cock and circling your small, pink tongue around his tip. His head cruised back as you swallowed his length to the back of your warm throat, gagging, gasping, choking, bobbing your head back and forth. His fingers tightly held onto your tender scalp, fucking himself into your pretty, little mouth until your nose was crushed against his pelvis. He heard you begging, pleading, scratching at his hips to give you a breather, but Toji relentlessly fed you his cock, over and over and over—

Spurts of release erupted and splattered onto the stall's wall, with droplets dripping onto the floor. Toji opened his eyes only to find the space where your apparition was supposed to linger now empty. His hand was sticky and hot, smudged in the mess he’d made envisioning you. You. It was you who had provoked this intense response, causing him to reach a climax faster than ever before.

As Toji cleaned himself up, he couldn't ignore the unabashed stares from the onlookers, men who had clearly overheard him masturbating. Ignoring the judgmental gazes, he focused on formulating a plan to claim you, even if you fought or opposed it; he was convinced that, in time, you would surrender.

In his mind, you were already his.

Toji lingered for the next few hours on that park bench, focused on you. His eyes traced every move you made, absorbed in that stupid book of yours, oblivious to the frisbees and kites dancing above you. His gaze burned into the teenage boys engaged in soccer behind you, fuming as they carelessly neared you with the ball. Especially the one you beamed at after he half-heartedly apologized to you.

Fuck, that smile of yours was irreplaceable.

As you packed your mat into the duffle bag and rose, turning to dust your ass off from any debris sticking to it, Toji's thoughts took a blunt turn. Sleep was an impossibility now.

Following discreetly as you strolled down the path, immersed in the rhythm of your ear-throbbing music, Toji couldn't help but dissect every inch of you. Your clothes, undoubtedly high-end and branded, spoke volumes. The price tag on your headphones alone easily flirted with seven hundred dollars, if not more. It was clear—you came from a life of comfort, perhaps a spoiled heir or held a proud position in some grand corporation. You were proving to be a challenging prize, a fish that refused to be easily caught.

You decided to take a pit stop at a vegan café where they charged an arm and a leg for a tiny cup of espresso.

Patiently, Toji lingered outside, cigarette dangling from his lips, the ember casting shadows on his sharp features. Peering through the glass, he caught glimpses of your animated conversation with a male barista. Though, the bastard's eyes were shamelessly speaking to your cleavage.

Toji hadn’t killed anyone for fun in a while; maybe the lanky fucker was going to start a new streak.

As you emerged, holding your iced coffee and muffin like some divine offering, he noticed the scribbles on the napkin. Ah, the barista's number, huh? The son-of-a-bitch just signed his own death warrant.

With a flick of your wrist, you crumpled the napkin and tossed it into the trash, conveniently placed right next to him.

Your eyes locked.

The cigarette in Toji's mouth hung suspended in a moment that seemed to stretch forever. Your gaze shot up as you took in the powerful physique of the man, the scar tracing its path on his left lip, and the black, sleek strands of hair framing those perilous, obsidian-green eyes. He was more than just attractive; he was a magnetic force, and you could feel the tingling of anxiety dancing on your skin. Too bad your family had always drummed into you the importance of polished over rugged.

Despite the internal turmoil, you turned on your heel and continued walking, nonchalantly sipping on your cold coffee to ease the tension building within you. There was an undeniable urge to steal one last glance at him, an itch in your brain pushing you to do so. With feigned composure, you added an extra sway to your hips, aware that his eyes were still on you.

Toji’s eyes were glued to your ass. Was he breathing? Nope. He was sure he’d busted his cover just then. You had checked him out for thirty whole seconds, the opportunity to speak suspended in the air, only to be pulled apart and crumble at his feet.

But he didn’t care.

He shadowed your every move, navigating through busy intersections, seamlessly blending into the teeming masses, keeping up with only the sway of your swinging ponytail and your ass. Fuck, he loved your ass. He wanted to spank it red, bruise the flesh for teasing you.

Finally, you stepped into the most luxurious hotel in the city.

Toji wondered if you were a local or a visitor from abroad. If he had to purchase a plane ticket to tail you back to your residence, he'd gladly do it. It was insane how unknowingly you had him trapped, wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.

The lobby was nothing short of fucking fancy.

The place was decked out with marble floors that shone so much he could almost see his reflection. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkling with a zillion crystals.

The furniture was all plush and comfortable, like sinking into a cloud. Big, ornate couches and chairs scattered around, all in rich, deep colors.

In the middle was a fancy concierge desk with people in sharp suits and friendly smiles ready to help out. He caught a whiff of some subtle, expensive scent in the air—not too overpowering, just enough to make him feel like he was out of place.

There was a low hum of activity—people chatting, the clinking of glasses from the bar nearby, maybe some soft piano music in the background. He couldn't help but feel a bit important just standing there like he'd stepped into a world where everything was a little more polished and refined.

He was in hell.

"Dad!" you exclaimed, striding towards your father amidst a crowd of his guards and members of the family hotel enterprise board.

"Darling!" Your father embraced you briefly, then caught a whiff of something unusual around you. "Were you smoking?"

Shit.

That attractive stranger from before had been smoking and the scent must’ve stuck to your clothes.

"I bumped into a friend who was," you lied, acknowledging your father's associates with a nod. Your current appearance didn't exactly match the polished image your mother presented to the press, but it was a facet appreciated by some online fans. As the heiress to the family hotel, however, you understood the importance of maintaining grace.

Even on your days-off.

"How was your meeting?" you asked.

"Same old, same old. Nothing for you to worry about," he replied dismissively.

"I mean, shouldn't I be involved? I'm almost twenty-one. It might be time for me to learn the ropes of managing—"

"I'm still around, aren't I?" Your father pushed your arm, causing you to stagger slightly. "Why don't you go freshen up now? We have a family dinner tonight." Family dinners, in this case, were elaborate affairs with your father and mother's vast social circles, almost a societal event. Unfortunately, everything was hosted at the hotel, making you feel like you were in a gilded cage.

"Sure, Dad."

He planted a quick kiss on your cheek and walked past you.

You stared at his retreating figure and the group of men you would eventually be working with, all of them vanishing through the hotel's automatic doors until the lights surrounding you became a blur. Your fingers touched your wet eyes, the back of your shaky hand wiping at your cheeks.

Despite the hurt, your training to act classy in public kicked in. You rolled back your shoulders, attempted a smile, and walked toward the elevators leading to your personal suite.

Observing the unfolding scenario from a discreet vantage point nearby, Toji, with arms and ankles casually crossed, wore a devilish smirk at how effortlessly the situation had played into his hands.

His room was on the twelfth floor.

It served as a temporary base for the two nights he had planned to stay. Plenty of time, in his calculation, to claim you as his own. He walked the fine line between confidence and cockiness, especially when dealing with a woman of your caliber. If he were to leave empty-handed, Toji carried a darkness within that would annihilate those you loved, a merciless flood of destruction until you had no choice but to turn to him. His sights were set on you, beginning with your pretentious father.

Yes, Toji had researched each and every single human associated with you.

Your father was a titan in the hospitality game and built an empire that stretched across the map. His hotels sprouted like mushrooms, and his wealth skyrocketed faster than you could say "check-in." He portrayed himself as the picture-perfect family man, but lurking in the shadows were dealings that'd make you think twice about tagging him with the 'daddy dear' label. During one of his many interviews, he let slip a desire for a son. When the inevitable talk of you inheriting the hotels surfaced, he'd chuckle, saying, "We'll see about that."

Toji absentmindedly toyed with his pocket knife, thinking of ways he’d cut your father’s tongue and shove it down his throat.

Then there's your mom, the classic trophy wife. No accomplishments to her name, just born into a world of idle gossip and social climbing. Since you were in diapers, she's been molding you into the picture-perfect daughter for the public eye. Nannies raised you, and she only paid attention when it came to playing matchmaker, setting you up with aristocratic jerks.

Toji might spare your mother only because she was an airhead being puppeteered by your father’s gimmicks.

You, on the contrary, were as perfect as one could get. Top of your class all through elementary to high school, currently enrolled in a business Ivy program at a prestigious university, president of the student union, and an active team player in clubs as absurd as juggling.

Your carefully crafted social media presence had Toji rolling his eyes. An avid reader who probably devoured Shakespeare in between saving the world and a lover of sunsets because nothing said depth like a passion for the fading light. Your commitment to wildlife, starting a charity for animals in captivity that was funded strictly by your family's friends. He bet the lions and tigers sent you thank-you cards.

Toji forcefully closed his laptop, took a deep breath, and sank into his mattress, gripping the roots of his hair.

He knew he wanted you. He wanted to touch you, to be inside of you, to break you and put you together again. The image of you being pushed by your father played in his mind, making his heart threaten to burst from his chest.

Despite the depraved thoughts, Toji was genuinely curious about you. The real you. The person seeking love in the same way you offered it to others. He wanted to fuck you but also take great care of you. He wanted to make you cry, but only when you were underneath him, begging for more. He’d kill himself if he hurt you otherwise. He questioned if a dormant monster within you waiting to be awakened by his own.

There had to be.

And he would be the one to root it out.

Toji pulled himself together, took a quick shower, and threw on the best outfit he had found in his cramped closet within his even more cramped apartment while packing. Living in close quarters didn't bother him; after all, his income came from a rather unconventional source—he was a professional assassin, taking out targets for clients that ranged from politicians to drug dealers. Penthouses and sports cars weren't his style, even if he could afford them; he preferred the simple life, spending most of his earnings on one thing he enjoyed the most: gambling on horse racing.

Knowing that you'd be at the bar, Toji decided to do a bit of reconnaissance. He hacked into the private security servers of the hotel, observing your movements from the corridor to the public areas. He saw you leaving your room in a stunning maroon gown, hair elegantly pinned up, and lips painted a vibrant red. His dick jerked in his trousers.

He spotted you alone at the bar, enjoying a cyan-colored drink. The smooth expanse of your back in that revealing dress nearly made him come in his pants right there and then.

Cracking his neck muscles, Toji walked up to the bartender, positioning himself about two meters away from where you sat. He pulled out a cigarette and flicked the silver lighter, flaming the end of the dart. Drawing in the first drag, he exhaled a plume of smoke. “I’ll take a whiskey.”

Giving you a casual once-over, Toji noticed you tracing circles on the table, lips in a pout, and eyes blinking languidly.

“Rough day?” he asked, settling into the seat beside you.

“You have no idea—” You looked sideways and met the dark green eyes of the attractive stranger. Your nails were now idle on the table, and you sat up straight. A breath caught in your chest, and you greeted him with a simple "Hi."

“Hi.” He pulled out the cigarette to take a sip, lips pulling in to savor the sharp taste of his whiskey. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, sweetheart.”

Your chest skipped a beat at the unexpected nickname. "I-I— Are you stalking me or something?"

“Stalking is a strong word, doll. I prefer 'casual observation.'”

“So you’re stalking me?”

The stranger chuckled, and your knees quivered from the husky, rough sound. “You're a vision, sure,” he said, his voice a slight victim to the smoking, “but I’m too much of a gentleman to do such a thing.”

You observed his clothes closely. He was dressed in a sleek black formal ensemble with impeccably shiny Oxfords. However, his hair was neatly combed down instead of styled up, and you caught the silver hoop adorning his left ear. The idea of him being sent by your mother or being the son of one of your father's friends quickly crossed your mind, but you ruled out the possibility. Maybe him being outside that café and being here was a complete coincidence.

“The name’s Toji.” He extended his hand for a shake. You glanced at the faded scars on the back of his hands. And when you hesitantly slipped your hand through his, the roughness of his palm rubbed against your softer one. “Ever washed a dish in your life, sweetheart?”

A shake of your head was all the admission he needed.

"Yeah, figured as much." Toji turned your hand, his thumb tracing a journey along its unblemished terrain.

You quickly took back your hand and placed it on your lap. “I’m sure you know my name.”

Toji tilted his head. “Am I supposed to?”

You blinked. In a world where your family name echoed through the corridors of the hotel, his genuine ignorance was a rarity. "I'm Y/N.”

"Y/N," he echoed, your name a lazy caress on your skin. Above the rim of his nearly empty glass, he regarded you with a watchful gaze. “The fuck is that, anyway? Windex?”

You raised your drink. “It’s a mocktail. I have a family dinner in an hour so I can’t drink. My father says it’ll impede my ability to talk. I can’t mess anything up.”

He half-rolled his eyes. “You like Coke?”

“Like, the soda?”

"What else, sweetheart?" He swiped a finger under his nose, throwing in a wink. "Unless that's your thing."

“No.” Your cheeks heated. “I like diet Coke, I suppose.”

Toji locked eyes with you and signaled the bartender. "Vodka diet coke for the lady."

"What?" You started to object, but Toji's hand clasped around your forearm, freezing you. “Remove your hand right now.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin playing on his lips. If he weren't so irritatingly charming, you might have considered introducing your mocktail to his face with a quick call to security as a chaser. “Just don’t want you to die knowing you never tried vodka.” His cheeks hollowed as he inhaled, exhaling wisps of smoke that danced in captivating swirls. “Ever smoked?”

You shook your head, a coy resistance to his vices obvious on your face. "It's detrimental to your health, you know. Consistent smoking can fast-track your journey to an early death. If you're aiming for more than thirty candles on your birthday cake, I'd advise a little moderation."

A sardonic chuckle escaped him. “Well, fuck.” He inspected the dart in his hand as if it held the secrets of the universe. “Guess I missed the invitation for my funeral five years ago.”

He’s old.

“Too old for you, sweetheart?” He dipped his head conspiratorially, locking eyes with you. "Hope you're not collecting a set of daddy issues like souvenirs."

You shot him sidelong glances, a subtle shake of your head. "I happen to like my dad, thank you very much."

“You’re welcome.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small puff of a laugh at his response.

He shot you a grin, his scar stealing a moment of your attention before the vodka diet Coke presented itself. “You still in school?”

You nodded. “University.”

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Keeps me distracted.”

“From?”

Your hand swept through the ambience of the hotel's bar, and Toji followed your motion, absorbing the surroundings. “I don’t know if my name rang a bell at all, but I’m to inherit this place.”

“Didn’t.” Toji raised his glass, gesturing his chin at the vodka diet coke in front of you. “Let’s drink to it.”

“I told you I can’t. I’m also lightweight. Besides, I don’t want it on my tab. My father keeps a check—”

“My father this, my father that.” Toji sighed, taking your drink and snagging a straw from a nearby container. He placed it near your lips. “Your father might have set the stage, but he can't dictate the play. Take a sip. If you hate it, fuck it. That work for you, sweetheart?"

You frowned at the subtle pressure venting from him. A fleeting swipe of your tongue traced your lower lip, drawing Toji's gaze to the subtle curve. His intense scrutiny left you feeling strangely singled out, a rare occurrence in a world where every tidbit of your life laid at the fingertips of anyone with an internet connection. Your secrets were a vault locked tight, shared with no one but yourself. Indulging in personal interests took a back seat to your responsibilities, and you strictly stuck to a scripted persona to protect your family's reputation. Even something as mundane as sipping on a vodka diet Coke.

Toji set the drink on the table, slipping a generous tip to the bartender. His financial status seemed modest, likely someone comfortably positioned enough to book a room in your hotel. “Listen, sweetheart, I don’t often give out advice ‘cuz frankly, I'm not exactly an expert on your generation.” He took a final drag of his cigarette, extinguished it under his foot, and nonchalantly dropped the remains into your drink. “But, you might want to dust off that brilliant little brain of yours sooner rather than later. Mind passing me a pen, buddy?”

The tender handed him a sharpie instead, and Toji scribbled out something on a napkin.

“Are you leaving?” you asked, feeling somewhat disappointed in yourself. You wanted him to ask you more questions. You wanted to know more about him.

“Afraid so, doll.” He folded the napkin, both of you surreptitiously scanning the surroundings before he handed it over. A smirk played on his lips, causing you to rethink the urgency with which you accepted it. “Your old man taught you lots of lessons, but seems like 'Stranger Danger' wasn't part of his curriculum, huh?”

“He doesn’t completely control me.”

Toji smirked, tapping the folded napkin. “Well, we're about to test that theory."

He left you perched on the barstool, and the moment he vanished, you unfolded the napkin, heart pounding.

ROOM 1231.

Sooner or later.

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rkivepetals · 5 months

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oneshots.

Window panels (jjk)

If there’s one thing Jungkook knows about his new neighbor, is that she’s a bitch.

The witch sisters (jjk)

When your seven witch sisters come across your almost- boyfriend.

Pumpkin spiced latte (jjk)

Jungkook loves pissing you off. Really

I think we’re soulmates (jjk)

When a stranger comes to your workplace everyday to ask you out On a date and his reasons are bells ringing when he saw you. Interesting.

Blooming (jjk)

When Jungkook has a MASSSIVEEE crush on you, but he is equally massive in embarrassing himself on the first date.

Jacket (jjk)

when the rich boy of the campus suddenly came up with a favour; borrowing your jacket

Dress you up (jjk)

your (very) awkward arranged husband helps you dress up after you injure yourself.

Happy honeymoon, babe (jjk)

It’s a very awkward honeymoon season time with your very awkward lawful husband. Who was, In fact, a dildo to half the females in your university.

Overthinking (jjk)

Talking about miscarriage

Take me home (jjk)

you and your husband decide for a divorce, but, after his family reunion dinner.

Blackout (jjk)

your husband makes up to you after getting in an arguement

Do you know how to dance? (Jjk)

dancing under the rain with your husband as a stress relief

Soju (jjk)

you surprise your husband with his favourite meal on a Tuesday.

Cool beans (jjk)

a (very) handsome basketball player asks you out after you win against him.

Age gap (jjk)

your parents get you forcefully married to a guy who’s eight years older than you. And the problem is he doesn’t know it.

navigator (jjk)

When your gothic vampire boyfriend gets a revenge on a boy who harassed you. But, he needs a navigator.

sick (jjk)

Your husband is sick. And gladly, he’s extra cute when he’s sick.

napping together (jjk)

You just have a terrible day, I swear.

Kiss me (jjk)

Your best friend kisses you and things don’t go the way you thought it would.

inspired by musical pieces.

lavender haze (midnights) (jjk)

Meet me at midnight

maroon (midnights) (jjk)

so scarlet, it was maroon.

midnight rain (midnights) (jjk)

He wanted a bride I was making my own name, chasing that fame.

Labyrinth (midnights) (jjk)

Oh no, I’m falling in love again.

mastermind (midnights) (jjk)

What If I told you none of it was accidental?

would’ve, could’ve, should’ve (midnights 3 a.m edition) (jjk)

Give me back my girlhood it was mine first.

my tears ricochet (folklore) (jjk)

I swear I loved you, ‘till my dying day.

closure (evermore) (jjk)

guilty, guilty, reaching out across the sea

series.

the son of Aphrodite (jjk)

* ˚ ✦ Worst things manage to occur to you everytime you get tipsy in your life. Like the first time, you lost your ninety dollar engagement ring of your high school boyfriend who left you after that, and no, you didn’t return the money of the ring nor you found the ring. And the time when you got drunk and had a lesbian sex with a gay woman. Next morning they threw you out when you told that you’re not even gay at the first place, and that you thought they were your ex because of their dark blue hair. They were pretty serious about the sex. And the last time, when you woke up to get filled up with shit like you’ve sold yourself to a Greek god blah blah blah. * ˚ ✦

the secret history (jjk)

* ˚ ✦ I sip my chamomile tea, scenting thick cinnamon in the air of the cafe I sat in. The sky was done crying, though, its petrichor lingered in the air. Wet, sloppy grounds of London as I stare at it. The mansion, that held secret history no one knew. I smile. * ˚ ✦

‘tis the valentine (ot7)

* ˚ ✦ It’s nottt a series but a chain of different romance / love tropes I wrote in different shots of each member. None of the fiction is related to each other so they’re basically stand alones 🫶 * ˚ ✦

rkivepetals on tumblr.

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waynes-multiverse · 1 year

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Love On The Brain

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Dean and Y/N – hunting partners, bunker roommates & idiots in love. Sam is fed up with their constant “will they/won’t they” bullshit and decides to move things along with his own plan until these two fated lovers’ paths finally cross one night – naked.

Warnings: +18, smut (mentions of masturbation f & m, oral f, fingering, p in v), crack of the adorkable kind, nudity, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: Happy V-Day, babes! 💖 The V stands for... Welp, you know me well enough by now to know where I’m going with this 😝 This is a lot of moronic crack mixed with some sweet smut and fluff. We all know how much I love the “idiots in love” trope, and I fully dove into this one. So, grab your glass of favorite liquor & let’s settle in, shall we? ❤️😘 Written for a request by @imagine-all-the-fandoms after making some adjustments. Found Rihanna’s Love on the Brain fitting for this one, so that’s what we went with as a general mood. Hope you enjoy, m’ladies! 🖤

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Freedom! Thank fucking God…

Y/N exhales a blissful sigh as she saunters to the Dean Cave with a bag of still-hot microwave popcorn in her arms. The Winchester brothers have decided on a little overnight road trip to the next, bigger town over to see a movie – and for some brotherly bonding or whatever – which means Y/N can finally enjoy some goddamn alone time in the bunker. Not that she doesn’t love Sam and Dean to bits and pieces, especially the latter one. They are like family to her, the only one she’s ever truly known, but even family can grow exhausting sometimes.

Living with two boys can grow exhausting, honestly, so Y/N has decided to spend her alone time doing a bunch of girly shit she can’t do with Tweedledee and Tweedledum around – at least not without enduring some judgmental looks.

So, first on the agenda? Watching a bunch of chick flicks, aka any movie the oldest Winchester wouldn’t approve of. Mean Girls, Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You, You’ve Got Mail, and so on – you get the gist.

The second order of business is a long-ass bathroom time for a little much-needed self-care, including a hot and relaxing bath with an abundance of pink bubbles and soap that smells like the goddamn Queen’s flower garden. Then she’s going to shave and wax… everything. Admittedly, things got a little hairy in recent weeks. There wasn’t a lot of time between hunts and sharing close quarters with two men in motel rooms, and every time she did attempt a proper shave, Dean would yell outside the bathroom door, needing to pee or God knows what else, so she dropped the razor again. Honestly, it’s not like she’s being followed around by an array of suitors these days. It’s been months since anyone has seen her private parts or even her bare legs, including her. On the upside, at least her vibrator doesn’t mind the extra locks.

Oh God, she’s fucking sad, isn’t she? Yeah… It’s a sad affair all around, really.

Regardless, the mention of some self-love reminds her of her third to-do item on her list: sex. Well, technically masturbating to Ryan Gosling’s pictures. Maybe even Andrew Garfield, Sebastian Stan, that hot dude Jackson from Grey’s Anatomy… Leo in his prime. Brad Pitt – young and old. Seth Rogen… Whoa! Don’t judge, okay? It’s not all about looks. She loves when a guy can make her laugh, and his laugh is so sweet, deep, and… bear-y, alright?

Yeah, fine, she knows she needs to get fucked properly by a real dick instead of a fictional one – rather sooner than later before she goes for… the dick that’s been living right under the same roof, only three doors down from her own bedroom.

Shit.

Yep, Dean fucking Winchester – God of all Gods, monster hunter extraordinaire, hero of all innocent damsels, and idiotic clown of all clowns, shamelessly stole her heart since… well, pretty much the minute they met and she first laid eyes on him. It felt like being blinded by the sun, the golden freckles on his cheeks and nose resembling the twinkling, starry constellations in the night sky. In an instant, she was an unsuspecting, innocent moth to a blazing flame. How could she possibly resist that irresistible, boyish charm? There’s no vaccine against that green-eyed virus. She swears she’s seen women faint and gasp before him, and she certainly isn’t immune, either. No one truly is, not even other men, for crying out loud.

Unfortunately, Dean will never ever look at her in that way and see more than a friend in her. The thought alone is so ridiculous it makes her snort before she starts to uncontrollably sob and whine. But God, does she wish more than anything he could be hers and she could be his.

Admittedly, she feels a little lonely, especially with the ominous Valentine’s Day looming around the corner, or as Dean likes to call it – unattached drifter Christmas.

Dear fucking God, why did she have to fall in love with that dork? Why can’t it be some nice, normal guy without an abundance of commitment issues?

On the other hand, it’s a good thing the oldest Winchester isn’t here tonight, even though he’d probably love the fourth part of her evening: naturism.

Yup, walking around naked while you’re alone is the best fucking thing in the world and so goddamn freeing. Tits out. Let the ladies breathe a little, you know? Having the girls constantly locked up in bra prison is no way to go through life. And Y/N knows for sure Dean would not only agree with that sentiment but also highly support it. After all, he was the one that suggested Naked Tuesdays when she first moved in. Sam then established a rule that the oldest Winchester wasn’t allowed to “sexually harass” her. It was completely unnecessary but sweet nonetheless. Y/N knows Dean’s just a teasing goofball 99% of the time and would never seriously harm her or make her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she loves that the brothers are always looking out for her and have her best interest in mind.

So, as soon as she hears the big metal door of the bunker slam shut, Y/N excitedly begins her girl’s night alone, trying not to think too much about the green-eyed hunter and focusing on Gosling on the silver screen instead.

“So, this movie… is it like Zombieland?” Dean inquires with a wide grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabs a couple of beers and snacks from the fridge for their road trip to Wichita.

Sam’s brow furrows in confusion. “What? Dean, no… It’s not an action movie or a comedy. It’s an environmental documentary about how soil can counteract the climate crisis,” the younger Winchester explains, chuckling in amusement.

Dean’s face drops, his features morphing from excitement to shock as his eyes blink in rapid succession. “What?! But you said Woody Harrelson is in it! You lied to me!”

“Nooo,” Sam laughs, shaking his head, and corrects, “I said Woody Harrelson narrates it. It’s a good documentary. Trust me.”

“Fuck no! I don’t wanna watch a movie about dirt,” the older brother whines, his plump lips shaping into a pout. “Can’t we go see something with action and blood and guns? You know, something fun?”

“Dean, our whole life is action, blood, and guns. Would do you some good to care about the Earth and climate every once in a while,” Sam lectures him.

“Screw that! We’ve already saved the planet multiple times. All that Al Gore shit ain’t my problem,” Dean huffs, pops open a beer and takes a sip. “‘Sides, I don’t trust these environmental clowns. I know the first thing they’d wanna do is get rid of Baby, and then I swear I’m gonna start shootin’. I can’t stand for that insanity.”

“Fine,” Sam frowns and lets out a resigned sigh. “Then I guess you’ll have to stay here because I wanna watch that movie.”

“Fine by me,” Dean agrees with another sip of beer.

“Good. Since you’re not coming, I might even check out the Mid-America Fine Arts Museum,” Sam shares, the excitement gleaming in his hazel orbs.

“Yeah, nerd yourself out, little brother,” Dean snorts. “Did you know Wichita has a Pizza Hut Museum?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, you tell me that every time we go to Wichita, Dean,” Sam reminds him and suppresses the laugh. “Well, uh, have fun alone with Y/N then,” he smirks slyly, and Dean’s short-lived relief disappears as realization dawns, his brow knitting. “Who knows? Might even be a good opportunity for you to tell her you’re madly in love with her.”

“Wha-, uh, pffft, no?” Dean brushes his little brother’s lunatic accusations off the kitchen counter and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, clearing the fluster in his throat. “Dude, are you drunk? I’m so not in love with her, alright? Don’t be ridiculous, okay? Do I find her incredibly hot, smart, sweet, brave, kind, adorable, and funny? Sure… That’s why she’s our friend, right? But that doesn’t mean I like… love “love” her, okay? At least not like that.” He forms sarcastic air quotes around the cursed word and grimly swallows his uncomfortableness and the lies down with a big gulp of beer. “And for crying out loud, keep your voice down when you say shit like that. I don’t want her to hear us,” he hisses, his green orbs nervously eyeing the kitchen door. “It’s echo-y in here, you know?”

“Sure, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam casually shrugs his shoulders, clearly not buying a single one of the green-eyed hunter’s words, and it only annoys the older Winchester more.

“Don’t-… Nuh-uh, don’t gimme that fake ‘whatever you say’ bullshit shtick. There’s really nothing going on, alright?” Dean assures anew, growing more irritated by the minute.

Sam twitches his shoulders once more and then cockily folds his arms over his chest, a teasing smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, so you won’t mind if I set her up with Matt, right? It’s just-… She seems a little lonely lately.”

“Lonely?” Dean arches an eyebrow in apprehension and scoffs, “She’s fine, Sam. She’s got us.”

Sam frowns for what feels like the hundredth time during this conversation. “Dean, you honestly don’t think that’s enough for her.”

“Why not?” The older Winchester shrugs, refusing to see clearly. “It’s enough for me. Our life is awesome. You don’t see me complaining.”

“Yes, you’re obviously the golden standard for healthy relationships,” Sam mutters sarcastically and rolls his eyes back.

Dean purses and smacks his plump lips, scratching the bit of scruff on his throat. “Well, uh… shut up, okay? And don’t set her up with Matt. The guy’s a douche.”

“Alright, what about Josh? You like Josh,” Sam suggests next.

“Yeah, as a hunting partner, he’s alright, not as a boy toy for our friend, Sam,” Dean grits bitterly and rolls his eyes, chugging the rest of his beer. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re not her pimp. Just leave her alone, alright?”

“Look, if you don’t wanna date her – fine. That’s on you. Just don’t stand in the way of her happiness because you can’t stop self-sabotaging yourself, man,” Sam argues with a judgmentally raised brow.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dean grumbles, the offense clearly written in every deep wrinkle on his face.

“Uh-huh, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam deadpans and grabs his laptop bag, making his way out of the kitchen.

“Stop saying that!”

“Look, I’d love to discuss all your weird issues in detail with you, but I still have to pick up Eileen on my way to Wichita,” Sam notes nonchalantly as Dean trails behind him through the bunker’s corridors. “I’ve watched you two beat around the bush for years. It’s getting annoying. You guys are worse than Ross and Rachel.”

“Wait, Eileen? Did you plan all of this on purpose? Were you trying to trick me?” Dean’s voice rises with his exasperation. He hates when Sam puts his nose where it doesn’t belong, mainly in his business. It’s the typical little brother shit he had to deal with all his life. Siblings, man…

“Me? No, I would never,” his younger brother replies with feigned innocence, marching up the metal stairs to the exit, but Dean can hear the goddamn deceit in his words.

“I don’t believe you,” Dean grits with a sternly creased brow, narrowing his juniper eyes at his younger brother as he halts at the bottom of the steps.

“Okay, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam grins complacently and opens the door. “Just don’t be an idiot. Make the first move, alright? That’s all you need to do. Trust me. It’s gonna be fine. She likes you, too.”

With that, the youngest Winchester closes the door behind him, leaving Dean to ruminate in his convoluted misery.

The hunter then stomps through the hallways of the bunker, furiously mumbling to himself as he passes the Dean Cave on his way to his room. Hearing sounds coming from inside, he stops by the cracked door for a moment and realizes Y/N is watching a movie in there. He considers joining her before recognizing Gosling’s voice, a deep sigh leaving his lips. Of course, she’s watching chick flicks again, so he decides against his plan, knowing some silly rom-com could potentially be a slippery slope and lead to some dangerous innuendos.

He downright refuses to play into his little brother’s evil scheme. Sam’s not goddamn Lindsay Lohan, and this isn’t the fucking Parent Trap. It’s better and safer if Dean stays far away from Y/N for the entirety of Sam’s absence, so the hunter quietly retreats to his room.

Dean decided to watch a bunch of his favorite horror movies until late into the night, ignoring the boiling feelings under the surface. He then closes his laptop with a heavy sigh, ready to call it a night after a nice, warm shower.

With headphones on and some classic rock music drowning out his hammering thoughts, he takes off his clothes and wraps a towel around himself. During an earlier snack run to the kitchen, he noticed the Dean Cave had already been deserted, the room quiet and dark. Y/N luckily has withdrawn to her own room again, so he knows he won’t accidentally run into her. She still hasn’t left his mind, his head in a constant swirl since his stupid conversation with Sam.

So, naturally, Dean comes to the conclusion that only some self-completion down the shower drain might help to clear his thoughts and flush the huntress out of his mind for good. He’s not proud of it, but it’s certainly not the first time since he’s known her that he thinks about her while jerking off. Usually, it only happens when he has to spend too many nights in a row with her in a small motel room without a way to escape, but this time, though, he fully blames Sam and his big mouth for it.

Wandering down the hall to the bathroom, his head bobs to the rhythm of the music flowing through his ears, his green eyes fixed on his phone screen as he scrolls through his playlist. Mindlessly opening the door, he suddenly freezes as another body bumps straight into him.

It all happens pretty fast from there. There’s a loud, high-pitched shriek that filters through the music, his hand drops his phone, and his headphones fall down with it, severing the connection and leaving him in silence as his palms catch a taut-skinned body in his arms while the towel around his waist glides to the tiled floor. And then, he just stares into two big and shocked pupils, which are probably as wide as his own.

Fuck…

For a second, Dean feels incredibly exposed before noticing the warm skin that’s pressed flush against his own body. Yep, he doesn’t dare to check, but he’s certain Y/N’s completely naked, too.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…,” Y/N’s panicked voice chimes in his ears as both of them awkwardly avert their gazes in different directions to the ceiling and avoid eye contact at all costs while still clinging tightly onto each other, aware that if one of them moves, it’s game over and they’d see each other in their full glory. Basically, they’re each other’s damn shields – as uncomfortable as that may be. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“I, uh…” That’s when Dean realizes Y/N probably didn’t even know he stayed behind and let Sam go to Wichita alone. “Sam wanted to watch a documentary.”

“I know!” Y/N yells in annoyance and grits, “You were supposed to go with him! Granted, I was surprised you agreed to it in the first place, but still, you’re not supposed to be home!”

“He didn’t tell me it was a documentary about dirt, alright? Otherwise, it would’ve been a straight-up ‘no’ from the start,” Dean explains and tries not to get hard as he feels Y/N’s tits press against his chest. Judging by the precise feeling that’s poking him, she must be somewhat cold.

“Yes, he did! I was right there when you agreed,” Y/N argues. “He talked about it for over an hour.”

“Oh,” Dean stumps and clears his throat rather awkwardly. Who could blame him for not listening, huh?

“You never listen to people! It’s so goddamn annoying!”

“Y/N, you need to stop talking, sweetheart,” Dean begs her, squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrates on anything else for dear life.

Baseball, Sam drinking green smoothies, a scratch on Baby’s new coat of paint… He attempts to distract his mind from the unavoidable, but it’s no use. The skin-on-skin contact is his final nail in the coffin.

“Oh, I’m sure you would love that, wouldn’t you?” Y/N continues in a furious huff, “It’s not always about you–”

“Y/N, please… All that angry shaking isn’t helping, sweetheart.”

The huntress cocks an eyebrow high, almost reaching the messy bun on top of her head. “Helping with what?”

“Uhm…”

And that’s when he can’t control it any longer. There’s a distinctive twitch against her thigh, and he’s sure she’s felt it, too. Shit, shit, shit…

“Oooooh.” Y/N awkwardly presses her lips into a thin line, her fingertips tapping a nervous melody on his skin. Her single utterance makes his heart stop. It’s game over. She’s going to call him a gross perv, move out of the bunker, and then never speak to him again. “It’s-, uhm, it’s okay,” she says surprisingly, her head bobbing with a thick swallow as she reassuringly squeezes his biceps where her palms rest.

“Y/N, I’m-, uh… oh God… I’m so, so sorry,” he stammers, deciding to keep his eyes shut to escape some of the awkwardness.

“I-, no, it’s not-… This is a weird situation we’re in… It’s fine. Completely normal, right? Like, uhm, like a reflex?”

“Uh, yeah, guess so,” Dean gulps, his eyelids slowly fluttering open and gaze drifting back to the ceiling. It’s not a goddamn reflex, though. It’s all her. It’s the effect she has on him.

“We should, uh, probably, uhm, detangle…”

“Uh-huh, yup, nope, agree,” he says and clears his throat once more, hoping the fluster will leave his body soon. “You, uh, wanna bend down, and we both can grab our towels?”

Fuck, it’ll probably be awkward between them for months now. They’ll avoid each other during breakfast, lunch, dinner… They’ll stop watching movies together, Sam will have to be their buffer and hate it, and they probably won’t look directly into each other’s eyes till Christmas – and it’s only fucking February.

“Oh, uhm… I actually, technically didn’t, uh, come with a towel?”

His eyebrow twitches upward, head slightly tilting to the side as he thinks about her words. “Oh, uh… Wait… Were you, uhm, walking around like… naked through the bunker?”

Well, there’s an image Dean’s never gonna get out of his head. Now, he’ll forever wonder if she takes off her clothes as soon as he walks out the door.

“Look, I thought I was alone, okay?! Again – you’re not actually supposed to be here! Don’t judge me!” Y/N defends, the panic returning to her voice, and then adds something in an almost inaudible mumble, “Just wanted to let the girls breathe a little. Sue me…”

“What?” His head tilts some more, the fine creases on his brow deepening.

“Nothing… never mind,” she quickly splutters, her cheeks flushing bright red as she visibly swallows.

Dean snorts. He’s in love with a dork, isn’t he? God, she’s adorable.

And then, it fucking happens again. Dammit…

“Was that…”

“Again – I’m so, so sorry,” he apologizes once more, although he’s sure he can’t do it often enough. His dick is an escaped zoo animal and clearly on the prowl tonight.

“No, uh… So how do you wanna do this? We could, uhm, maybe turn 180 and then close our eyes and let go… I could, uhm, run really fast down the hall, and you could just quickly back into the bathro–”

Y/N doesn’t get to finish laying out her plan. Dean’s lips on hers stop any further words from spilling out of her mouth. The featherlight kiss doesn’t last longer than a painfully anxious second, his mind racing a mile a minute, his brain positively fried.

What the hell is he fucking doing? There’s only one rule in the bunker: don’t sexually harass Y/N. Dean’s pretty damn sure he’s breaking that rule right now and crossing too many goddamn lines. How’s he supposed to ever recover from this?

“What, uh…” Y/N’s speechless, every muscle frozen stiff in his embrace. Her eyebrows draw up and reach her hairline, eyes blown wide in shock. “Or that… you could do that…”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Dean groans in defeat and shame, hoping the Earth opens up and takes him straight to the burning fires of Hell. See? There aren’t enough apologies in this world to make up for his stupidity. “You know, this is all Sam’s fault… He just got into my head… I mean, this is obviously the wrong first move… I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just have a, you know, teeny-tiny crush on you, but still, this is obviously inappropriate.”

“You-, uhm, you have a crush on me?”

Dean swallows the hard lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah… Yeah, I do,” he admits bravely. “But don’t worry about it, okay? It’s just a temporary thing, alright?”

Y/N nods slightly in understanding. “For how long have you felt this way?”

“Well, uhm, like I said – not that long… Just a very short period of time… Like, since November 29th… 2012,” he gulps and shrugs sheepishly, watching her brow furrow in confusion.

“But… that’s the day we met,” Y/N points out.

Dean chuckles uncomfortably and rebuffs her concerns. “Is it? No…,” he rasps. “Well, uhm, anyways, that doesn’t change anything. Don’t worry, alright? No need to make this weird. I’m sure if we give it a couple more years, I’ll be completely over you.”

Y/N’s head bobs again, her lips pursing. “Okay, uhm… But what if you, uh, you know, maybe get over me in the literal sense… and I could get under you?”

The gears in his head start turning as he musingly squints his pine green eyes at her and studies her features. She seems nervous. There’s a bite of her lower lip and a light swallow in her throat, her pupils flickering insecurely. “Uhm, well… is that something you would like? I mean, to get-, uh, would you wanna get under me?”

“Uhm… yes? Yeah?” She looks up at him and meets his gaze, their eyes fully connecting for the first time since they have catapulted themselves into this mortifying situation.

“Is that a question?” Dean checks and chuckles lightly. “Because you kinda need to be sure about this, y’know?”

Another swallow and Y/N nods, determination gleaming in her eyes. He feels her weight shift forward, her feet rising on tip-toes as her palms move from his upper arms to the back of his neck. Her soft, pillowy lips catch his, a tender touch as their mouths carefully mold together. She sucks on his upper lip, nibbles on the bottom one before he feels the tip of her tongue lick between. He opens his mouth wider, lets her slip inside.

Dean’s hands then begin to travel, his confidence growing as Y/N’s fingers tug slightly on the short strands of hair in the nape of his neck, trying to draw him closer. One large hand cups her neck, the other one smoothing down her spine and pressing into the small of her back. He pushes her closer, deepens the kiss, and both of them moan needily while their tongues dance with each other. His grip on her becomes stronger, their bodies melting into one. Y/N gasps into his mouth, her hips pushing against his, skin on skin, as her bare pussy brushes his bulging dick.

“Shit…,” Dean mutters breathlessly against her lips, and Y/N breaks the kiss and meets his eyes with a hint of a smile.

Her lips are red and glistening, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. He cups her blushed cheek, thumb ghosting over the kiss-swollen flesh of her bottom lip as he mirrors her soft smile.

“You okay?” Y/N checks, giggling slightly.

Dean chuckles, palm still caressing her cheek. “Yeah, uh, just realized we’re incredibly naked.”

She snorts and nods, “Yeah, guess that doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination, huh?”

“Definitely not,” Dean agrees and laughs a little, his cheeks blushing with bashfulness. “But, look, we don’t have to do anything tonight, alright? We can take it slow.”

Y/N thoughtfully chews on her lip, her dimples showing a smile before she shakes her head. “No, I think we’ve been taking things slow for long enough.”

Dean’s face breaks into a grin before he pulls her back to his lips for a searing kiss. Y/N’s hands lock around his neck, allowing him to lift her up, and her legs instinctively wrap around his waist. His hand weaves into her hair, still damp in the back of her neck from her bath, as the scent of her delicious body wash and lotion seep into his nostrils with each intake of air.

“You smell nice,” he notes, his mouth trailing along her jawline and down her throat, leaving wet kisses in his wake as he sucks her pulse point black and blue. “Like a flower garden…”

Y/N giggles, the cute sound in his ears causing his heart to flutter. She clasps his jaw and draws his attention back to her face, nuzzling her nose against his, whispering, “Bedroom. Need you inside me…”

“Jesus, Y/N… Going in for the kill, huh? You can’t say stuff like that to a man in a compromising position,” he jokes, making her laugh more. “Okay, hold on, sweetheart. You ready?”

She confirms it with a nod, and Dean adjusts his grip on her body, grabbing her a little tighter before bolting down the bunker hallway like a little kid on Christmas morning. The huntress squeals and giggles in his arms as he kicks the door open to his bedroom, gently laying her down on the mattress. She lets herself fall back and stretches out on the bed, her shoulder blades indenting the memory foam, and he hopes the thing does as advertised and fucking remembers her forever.

“You’re fast,” Y/N teases him as he quickly makes his way on top of her.

Dean chuckles, placing soft kisses on her lips in between his laughs. “Yeah, well, I’d run a mile just to get a taste of you, sweetheart. But don’t worry – not all of it will be this fast, alright?”

“Oh, I didn’t think it would be,” she giggles and licks her lips. “Can you just do me a favor?”

“Anything, sweetheart,” Dean assures her and lovingly brushes her hair behind her ears.

“Just judging by, uhm, size-,” she interrupts her sentence for a giggle, and he joins in. She’s so fucking cute. “Can you go slow?”

“Oh, trust me. I would’ve taken my time either way, but tell you what – I’ll even do you one better,” he says. His fingers then slide up her arm, along her collarbone and down to one breast. She shivers underneath him, her skin breaking into delicate goosebumps, soon soothed by his warm lips. His thumb brushes her bud, plays with it until it hardens and then alleviates the sensation with his hot breath and wet tongue.

“Fuuuuck,” Y/N sighs blissfully, her toes curling as a smile shapes on her lips, fully relaxing under his care. “Feels so good, De.”

His chuckle vibrates against her ribcage, his mouth traveling down her upper body, his kisses not missing an inch of smooth skin. Every rib, every beauty mark, every freckle gets the attention they deserve, even teasingly dipping his tongue into her navel. The last tender kiss is placed on her mound as he moves between her legs and spreads her thighs a little wider.

A smirk forms on his face as he leers at her pussy, bright pink and already glistening with her arousal. He catches her watchful gaze, sees a bit of insecurity shimmering in it as she nibbles her fingernails and bottom lip almost bloody, so he cheekily wiggles his eyebrows and sends her a wink, causing her to giggle and roll her eyes at his antics before she lets herself fall back into the mattress with a calming, deep breath.

Licking his thumb pad, he presses it against her sensitive nub, her thighs jolting for a second at the initial touch as a hiss escapes her throat, followed shortly by a strangled whimper. Y/N’s hands fist the bedsheet a little tighter, her knuckles turning white, every muscle wired to the nth degree. Her chest heaves frantically as her breathing grows more erratic with each little circle of his digit. His index finger then stretches and reaches her dripping entrance, rubbing at the tight ring before he easily pushes inside and curls it, poking the spongey spot.

“Fuck, Dean…,” she manages to croak out, biting down on her tongue.

Dean only chuckles, a giddy feeling spreading in his stomach and loving how responsive she is to his touches. There’s a loud whimper when he kisses her pussy lips, tongue dipping between and giving her clit a kitten lick, distracting her enough to shove his middle finger inside her cunt as well, scissoring them once he’s knuckles-deep.

“Oh God… shit,” she groans and whines above him.

He laughs lightly and curiously observes the torment on her face. “Wanna cum, huh?”

“Dean, I swear… I-… please,” she begs, her initial threat morphing into a soft plea for mercy.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he assures her amusedly and swiftly presses his mouth back on her pussy, sucking her sensitive bundle of nerves between his plump lips and thrusting his digits harder and faster inside her. It only takes three, four pushes and one skilled suck before she convulses, trembles, and soaks his face and fingers in her juices. He groans at the sweet taste of her on his tongue, his cock twitches gleefully between his bow legs, only too eager to slide in next.

“Oh God! Fuck… shit… D-Dean!”

The green-eyed hunter grins broadly up at her, his face almost split in half as he bathes in her blissed-out expression and the rosy cheeks that accompany it.

“Wow,” she breathes and shakily catches his swollen and wet lips as he comes back up to her eye level, propping his arms up on the sides of her head.

“I think you’re ready for the big gun now,” he laughs and places a loving kiss on the tip of her nose and another one on her forehead.

“Uh-huh, I’m not so sure after this,” she giggles, still catching her breath. She cups his jaw, kisses him deeply, and licks her arousal from his pillowy lips. “You’re… amazing.”

“Right back at you, sweetheart,” he winks, the softness of his smile contrasting his cockiness. “Do we, uhm, need–”

Y/N shakes her head, anticipating his question. “No, uh, I’m on the pill. I just need you.”

With a smile, he nods and ducks his head, entangling her in a blazing kiss as he devours her lips. His hand pushes between their heated bodies, fisting his achingly hard cock before he threads his dickhead through her folds, coats it with her slick before it catches at her entrance. His thick and leaking tip pushes inside, slowly entering her drenched cunt inch by inch till he’s buried deep and touches her cervix, stretching her tight walls around his impressive girth and hearing her little gasps of sheer pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasps at the feeling of her pussy enveloping his cock and gently brushes her hair out of her face, kissing her deeply. “Taking me so well… Such a good girl f’me.”

“God, you feel like heaven,” she whimpers and wraps her arms around his neck.

As he languidly pulls out to the tip, he kisses down her neck, sucking a mark into her skin. His hand wraps around one of hers, pinning it above her head to the mattress, fingers tightly interlocking before he thrusts back into her heat. His hips then work up a rhythm, a slow and soft song, as he fucks her deep and slams home harder at just the right spot.

Her second orgasm builds slowly yet deeply, aiming to shatter her from within as she hears the ticking of a bomb in every muscle of her body, counting down the seconds before a massive explosion. She moans loudly as the earth-shattering climax hits her at full force, booming and wild as she curses his name over and over.

His fingers grip hers tighter, his thrusts growing sloppy as he lazily fucks her, her pulsating walls clenching around his firm cock. His hips begin to stutter, broad shoulders quaking as he spills deep inside her and stills. He grunts, her name falling from his lips, loud, strained, and primal when he cums, painting her walls with his milky seed.

“Wow,” Dean repeats her earlier sentiment, her giggle causing his heart to soar higher than the moon in the sky. “You okay?”

A wide smile spreads across her face, a tired nod moving her head. “Yeah, more than okay,” she assures him and seeks out his lips.

Dean places one last kiss on her hairline before removing his limp and drenched dick from her center, rolling to his side and pulling her onto his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around her frame. “Hey, Y/N?”

She wearily lifts her heavy head to meet his green eyes. “Hm?”

“Were you, uhm, lonely?” Dean asks, his fingertips drawing tender patterns on her back.

“I guess… a little, yeah,” she admits. “Why?”

He kisses her forehead and pulls her closer. “Nothing. Just… I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, okay? You wanna move into my room?”

Y/N’s beam is blinding, her cheeks blushing brightly pink. “Yeah, I’d love that,” she replies and snuggles back into his chest.

Dean then notices her eyes falling shut, losing the battle against sleep as her breathing calms in his embrace, his own mind following her into dreamland soon after.

In the morning, Y/N and Dean are still soundly asleep, entangled in sheets and limbs, when there are a few abrupt knocks on the door before it pops open to its full extent, the youngest Winchester’s voice drowning in from the hall.

“Hey, Dean? I’m back! Look, I figured we could talk. I’m sorry about yesterd–… ay… Whoa!”

“Wha-!” Y/N jolts up from the bed at the unexpected intrusion, her elbow hitting Dean straight in the face as he rises behind her. The force of the blow knocks him out of bed, the hunter tumbling to the cold ground.

Y/N clasps her palm over her mouth, staring at Sam’s shocked expression, their eyes both wide before she glances over her shoulder to her lover on the ground.

“Ow! Jesus…”

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Sam,” the huntress smiles awkwardly at the younger Winchester, sheepishly shrugging her shoulders as she hides her naked body underneath the sheets. “Good morning. How-, uh, how was the documentary?”

“Uhm, good?” Sam doesn’t look any less freaked out by what his hazel eyes are witnessing, though.

Dean groans behind her, rubbing a palm over his aching face before sending his little brother a lazy grin. “Hiya, Sammy.”

Sam then lets out a long sigh through his nose and mutters, “About damn time…”

“Yeah, about that, little brother… Might call Eileen and book yourself a room for at least a week somewhere,” Dean tells him, smirking.

Sam’s brow furrows, “What? Why?”

“Oh, because I’m gonna rail Y/N in every room we have,” Dean explains casually, watching Sam’s eyes widen.

“Oh?” Y/N sends her boyfriend an intrigued look, which he responds to with a sly wiggle of his eyebrows and a wink. “Even the dungeon? Are you, like, gonna tie me up and stuff?”

Dean’s eyes look at her lovingly, causing her cheeks to flush with heat. “Where have you been all my life, sweetheart?”

“Oh God, what have I done…,” Sam groans with a thick swallow.

PHEW! And we’re done with one shot week, babes! 😮‍💨 I honestly hadn’t planned this but found some inspiration over the weekend and finished some WIPs, and since they were all about different kinds of love, I figured they were perfect for Valentine’s Day 💖

Hope you enjoyed these various journeys, and if you did, please consider telling me here and leaving me with some kind words 🥰 Now excuse me while I go work on a few Soldier Boy one shots. I’ve missed my toxic Ben-Ben. Read you soon, babes! 😝🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy @avanatural

Dean Tags: @parinarain @hobby27 @fromcaintodean

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fic #dean winchester reader insert #dean x reader #dean x y/n #writing request #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic

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nariism · 9 months

Text

my brother's best friend

pair. miya osamu x gn!reader

content: fluff, attempts at humour, miya atsumu is a little shit, first loves, mutual pining

synopsis. miya osamu takes pride in the fact that he’s the smarter of the twins. he, in fact, is not (especially when it comes to you).

wc. 3.1k

a/n: om nom nom nom nom brother's best friend trope nom nom nom... ok i have to come clean about this fic i literally wrote the first draft for this in 2021 on WATTPAD and it's been sitting dormant forever up until recently. enjoy 🫶

‎oh my god, how did i end up here?

it’s the only thought repeating over and over again in osamu’s head as he sits there staring at you. you’re too preoccupied with the menu in your hands to notice his unwavering gaze, scanning through it and muttering to yourself indecisively about what to order.

of course, the question of how he ended up here on a date with you could be summarized in one simple sentence:

miya atsumu is the world’s biggest idiot.

if kita or aran were here they would surely be poking fun at him right now, lecturing him about how his dna is a perfect carbon copy of atsumu’s. and while they would be right, osamu is convinced his brother has at least 70% less brain cell capacity.

the thought makes him feel a little smug. (he’s in the class under atsumu.)

you were friends. at least as far as how often you saw each other, he considered you good friends. maybe. not that he knew all that much about you other than the fact that you were constantly... around. if he didn’t know that atsumu was the biggest knucklehead on planet earth, he would have assumed you were dating. but he knew his brother was too invested in volleyball to be seeing anyone seriously, and you didn’t didn’t seem like the type to mess around with guys like him anyways.

you were way too level-headed for that despite the raunchy, head-turning jokes you liked to tell, which honestly might be the reason why atsumu keeps you around.

whenever you came to their house, you would stick to lounging in atsumu’s room or the living room. you typically avoided disturbing osamu and the rest of their family — not like they minded having you around. no, in fact, their mother had a strange soft spot for you. you were quiet and well mannered, until it was just the three of you and suddenly an onslaught of fierce attacks on poor atsumu would commence.

for the majority of your friendship, you have stayed out of his way and he stays out of yours. you only talk to each other when deemed necessary, like when walking home from school or when you shyly greet him at the door because atsumu is on the toilet. he does, however, rejoice in the fact that there is another person on the atsumu hate train, and appreciates that you’re at least colourful with your insults. it’s impressive, really.

(he would never admit it. never. never ever. but it warms his heart a little that there’s someone out there just like him, expressing their love for miya atsumu in less conventional ways.)

you were quick witted and funny. a free source of entertainment when he would grow bored of his brother’s shenanigans. and it was a two way street, because when you needed a break from atsumu, osamu was always right there.

you were noticeably gentler with the younger of the miya twins: asking him how school was, and if he needed help with his chemistry homework, and what he had for lunch. menial little things, but sometimes he found himself thinking that it was the highlight of his day.

otherwise, your presence in his life is, as osamu considers it, indifferent.

sure, he likes to look at you. and sometimes, maybe, he wishes you and atsumu would invite him around more often. it also doesn’t help his heart when you’re so nice to him, like when you’re all having dinner together and you pretend you don’t want the last dumpling on your plate and shovel it onto his. he likes that. or when you invite yourself into their freezer for ice cream, you always make sure to grab an extra one for him. there have been multiple occasions in which you’ve wordlessly slid him your notes to copy, too.

you were good at that; knowing what others wanted and being more selfless than the average person. you’re a people pleaser, and though he and atsumu used to make fun of your type when they were kids, your charm is undeniable.

unfortunately, actually making any sort of move on you is out of the question. not only would it potentially complicate things between you and him, it would also risk putting a strain on your friendship with atsumu. making his brother’s life a living hell is what miya osamu was born into this world to do, but for some reason his stomach turns at the thought of ruining your friendship.

you were just atsumu’s cute best friend. nothing less, nothing more. and he would very much like to beat the “i fell in love with my brother’s best friend” allegations, thank you.

he realizes he’s still looking at you intently with his arms crossed over his chest. he watches as your nose scrunches a little in thought, trying to decide between their two best sellers. he sighs in relief when you get up to order for yourself, tucking a stray hair under his cap before going back to sulking with his thoughts.

atsumu had a lot of bad ideas. so many that if they sat down and listed them all out they might be there for a couple days. but this? this is his worst one yet. and how osamu managed to get roped (bribed) into this, he will never know. but here he is, and here you are, and here atsumu is not.

he really should get better at saying no to atsumu.

(“c’mon, ‘samu! please? for me?!”

“what the hell? no. that’s a shitty thing to do. just tell them ya can’t go.”

“but it’s their birthday! they were lookin’ forward to this. they’ll hate me forever if i bailed!”

“and? why would i help you? ‘specially with somethin’ so stupid. it’s your fault you didn’t plan better.”

“don’t be like that, y’know it was a last minute thing!”

a beat of silence.

“pretty please? it’s their birthday… you guys are friends too, right?”

osamu can’t believe he’s entertaining this stupid idea for even a second. you’re not an idiot. you’d know it’s him with a single glance.

“this is an all time low, even for you. they’ll notice it’s me right away. are ya crazy, ‘tsumu? hit your head or somethin’?”

“it’s just this one time! i’ll never ask ya for anythin’ ever again. never ever ever ever, i swear it.”

“...’tsumu…”

“don’t sound so tired with me! do this for your big brother. have i mentioned it’s their birthday?”

big brother? osamu scoffs loudly.

“you actually mentioned it three times. and yer only a couple minutes older than me. but... fine.”

“don’t be such a jacka- wait, what?”

“i said fine. but you owe me lunch for the next two weeks.”

“deal!”

“... are ya sure they won’t know it’s me? i mean, i really think you should reconsider-”

“oh shut up, ‘samu, we’re identical!”

“just know that i won’t hesitate to throw ya under the bus if shit hits the fan.”)

what a terrible plan. pretending to be atsumu was proving to be harder than he initially anticipated. he would have thought that spending every agonizing, waking, living hour with his brother would have trained him well enough, but atsumu is so no-chill that it’s somehow making this already horrible idea even worse with every passing second.

surprisingly, you haven’t said anything. you haven’t acknowledged the massive elephant in the room. this could only mean one of three things:

1. you’ve noticed, but you’re desperately trying to spare atsumu’s feelings and osamu’s embarrassment by not bringing it up.

2. you’re dumber than he thought. dumber than a rock, actually, if you didn’t take one look at osamu and know it was him.

3. you are a cruel, wicked, evil, deranged human being who finds osamu’s situation entirely hilarious and wants this to go on for as long as possible.

judging by your casual banter, he’s willing to bet it’s either option one or two. you’re twirling a lanyard around your finger when you finally return with your drink of choice in tow. next destination: the local aquarium. atsumu put a surprising amount of effort into planning the day.

it’s a shame he hadn’t accounted for planning himself into it.

‎he shouldn’t have agreed to come here.

spending time alone with you like this was bound to stir up feelings he’d long ago buried in the hollows of his heart. of the miya twins, osamu was always better at keeping his emotions under wraps. there were rare occasions in which he lost his cool, in which he was actually somehow worse than atsumu, but in general he was as level-headed as you were.

you’re ruining him and his plans to never acknowledge his feelings for you.

it’s unfair, really, how his heart seemingly gets lodged in his throat when you cling to his arm so tightly, laughing and pointing out all the funny-looking fish. and when you point at something called a vampire squid, raving about how long it took you to find one in animal crossing, he nearly crumbles to his knees and puts his head in his hands.

(in other words, he’s totally whipped. he’s not beating those allegations.)

osamu thought he could get used to looking at anyone’s face. he always found people boring — he grew up being the other half of his brother, after all. the miya twins are many things, but boring is not one of them, and to entertain them you have to be someone with a special brand of humour.

but now, as he looks at you with the soft blue glow from the tank shining against your face, he can’t help the thought that crosses his mind:

i could never get tired of this.

“... hailing from the depths of tropical and subtropical waters, the vampire squid feeds on marine snow.”

he blinks back into reality, eyes drifting from you to the sea creature you’re admiring, then back to you. “marine snow? sounds gross.”

“it’s the debris that falls to the lower levels of the ocean. lots of deep sea creatures feed that way since it saves them the energy of needing to go hunt.”

osamu seems skeptical. “they really just eat anythin’ like that?”

your head turns to look at him. there’s a little smile playing on your face, like you seem amused by what he just said. “sounds like someone i know.”

he makes a strange expression in response. were you talking about him? did you often bring him up when you were alone with atsumu? the soft and fond look in your eyes doesn’t help his racing heart. the idea that you and atsumu talk about him in private so sweetly makes his face burn slightly in embarrassment.

he shakes his head to get the thought out of his brain before stuffing his hands into his pockets.

your arm finds his again, locking together. it’s an oddly intimate action, even if you think he really is atsumu. he doesn’t know you to be the most touchy person on earth, though he supposes he can’t see what you’re like behind the closed doors of his brother’s bedroom. his blood boils for some reason.

you stop at the next tank, the one situated in the centre of the room filled high with kelp and schools of tiny fish. you’re looking at them with wide eyes, light shimmering in them. he could cry right now. you look like an angel bathed in the shadows of dancing fish as your gaze carefully follows a school circling around the top of the aquarium.

there’s a feeling swimming inside of him, unfamiliar and oh so dreadful. he can feel it in raging in every part of him — in his heart, in the fiery pits of his stomach, in his throat — and he knows exactly which word comes to mind.

miya osamu may be in the lowest class in his year, and he might share a single brain cell with his brother, but he’s read enough books to describe this feeling. he’s listened to enough love songs to know this ache in him.

if you asked him ten years from now, he’d tell you exactly the same thing as he would right now; that your first love is always petrifying.

“pretty, aren’t they?”

“yeah. real pretty.”

but he hasn’t looked at them even once. how could he when there’s a living, breathing angel standing next to him?

‎osamu delivers you to your doorstep that night.

it feels like a dream, the whole day and having the privilege of holding your hand and feeling your body against his.

maybe it was just the greedy monster in him speaking. the laws of the universe dictate that if it’s you and osamu, atsumu needs to be there, too. the miya twins have always come in a package. a duo. there is no just atsumu or just osamu, at least there wasn’t until you came along.

suddenly it was you and atsumu. it was atsumu and osamu, and you. but there was never just you and osamu. it didn’t work that way.

well, screw the universe and its laws. osamu never believed in that astrology shit anyways.

he’s fully prepared to keep this day an untarnished memory — something to cherish when life goes back to normal and he’s unable to stand shoulder to shoulder like this with you again.

when you lean in to kiss him, there is only one thought repeating in his mind like a mantra:

it’s just once. just one day. one last perfect memory.

you’re so close that he can feel your breath filling his lungs. his heart hammers where it rests in his chest, so loud that he can hear it thundering in his ears. it’s then that he realizes this is wrong. all of it is wrong.

he recoils back with lightning speed, and his heart aches at the sight of your disappointed and puzzled expression. but it’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to atsumu either.

he cares about both of you too much to be selfish right now.

how could he possibly risk hurting two of the people he cared most about in the world? he couldn’t be that self-centred, to be able to steal a kiss from you just to keep his memories of this day perfect.

perfect doesn’t exist if none of it is real.

“i’m not… i’m not who you think i am.”

he slides the hat off his head with shame burning in his cheeks, avoiding your eyes like a child who got caught with his hand in a cookie jar. it was time for him to be honest, both with you and himself.

“look, yer really cool. and i– crap, it’s complicated, ‘kay? i might like you. like– like you, like you. i wasn’t thinkin’ straight. 'm really sorry, i know it was wrong to string you along, i was just havin’ so much fun today that–”

his mouth suddenly comes to a halt as you reach forward and capture his cheeks between your fingers, squishing them together so he’ll stop rambling.

you look at him with a confused but amused smile. “um, ‘samu? i like you, too.”

“what?” he sputters out as much as he can with his face still held in place. his brows furrow, but all rational thoughts have stopped flowing in his mind. he’s staring at you like a flabbergasted idiot, so you continue.

“why else would i agree to go on a date with you on my birthday?”

“but– i– huh?”

your head tilts. “this was a date, wasn’t it?”

it dawns on him then. it had never occurred to osamu that there was another explanation for your strange lack of acknowledgment that he is painfully easy to see through:

4. you like him and simply thought this was a date. you like him as much as he likes you, which is a stupid amount. after all, he likes you enough to go through with an infinite number of atsumu’s terrible ideas just to make you happy.

of course you weren’t that dense. of course he was found out the second you laid eyes on him. of course he had misread the entire situation because he was blinded by his brother’s boisterous claims that they were indistinguishable.

“this is ridiculous. i can’t believe you–… atsumu somehow always pulls through even when he doesn’t mean to.”

“what do you mean?”

“whadd’ya mean, what do i mean?”

“about atsumu?”

“oh, he was freakin’ out about missin’ today and wanted me to go through this whole thing pretendin' i’m him so ya wouldn’t be mad at him.”

“but he already told me he couldn’t make it today? you really didn’t have to do… all this,” you gesture to his whole body with a flick of your wrist.

at your words osamu finally crumbles to his knees in pure agony. he looks up to the sky, to whatever god has forsaken him by making atsumu his other half, and sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. he can just imagine the shit-eating grin his brother has right now.

“i’m…” he pauses, carefully selecting his next words, “going to smother him with a pillow.”

you blink at him for a moment before all the pieces fall into place.

all the times you’d gushed to atsumu about your massive crush on his twin and the way he’d complain to no end about neither of you making a move, forcing him to watch on with mild disgust as his best friend and brother made goo goo eyes at each other. all the times he would “forget” his shoes at the gym and need to run back to grab them, pushing you into small talk with osamu. all the times he would suffer through your teasing just to see the two of you walking side-by-side sharing proud little smiles.

atsumu’s resume looks something like this: world’s biggest idiot, volleyball player, third-wheel, and tired wingman.

you’ll have to thank him later.

“no wonder you’ve been acting so weird all day! i thought you were just one of those guys who gets nervous on first dates!” accompanied by this statement is a laugh that makes osamu weak.

he grumbles. “what’s so funny?”

“say what you want, but you’re as dumb as ‘tsumu.”

“no… please… don’t compare me to that nitwit… i might have a heart attack at this rate.”

you snicker quietly as you help osamu back onto his feet, eyes shimmering with joy as you let his confession sink in.

“you’re right, he is an idiot.”

“dumbass.”

“moron.”

“he’s gonna hate us even more from now on,” osamu smiles uncontrollably, inching closer to you again.

“yeah?” your lips brush against his daringly, “i can live with that.”

EXTRA:

🏷️ @hyomagiri (im dead like actually dead)

#— whispers in the wind ✧#he's so stupid i wanna kiss him so bad #haikyuu #haikyu #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #osamu miya #osamu miya x you #osamu miya x y/n #osamu miya x reader

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auras-moonstone · 8 months

Note

hi! i love the way you write and was hoping if you had time for this rec :) ethan x reader

it's inspired by 'the summer i turned pretty'

y/n is the bailey's childhood friend, she was very close to ethan and quinn growing up, but when she comes back to newyork, richie is suddenly very interested in her and the shitty brother that he is, he know that ethan had a thing for her.

"You think she's pretty?" richie asked ethan one day.

"Yeah, and you do too," ethan replied already annoyed, trying to brush it off.

"I hadn't noticed, really," richie said, smirking.

"Come on, man. I've noticed you noticing"

richie is the it-boy of the town, always gets what he wants, cocky and arrogant. y/n was the only thing ethan had for himself only.

sorry if its long 😭😭 its mostly angsty id say, y/n is surprised someone like richie likes her but her heart has always been yearning for ethan whom she thinks will never see her that way.

childhood best friends to lovers is one of my favorite tropes so i really had a lot of fun writing this! hope you like it💓🫶🏻

you’re my best friend — ethan landry

word count: 2,465

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: when y/n goes back to new york city she finds out two things—she’s still crushing on ethan and richie took an interest in her.

WHEN Y/N AND HIS FAMILY HAD TO LEAVE NEW YORK FOR LONDON, THE BAILEY’S WERE LEFT HEARTBROKEN, ESPECIALLY QUINN AND ETHAN. Both of their families had been close since forever, so Quinn, Ethan, Y/N and Richie grew up together and the first three developed a really close friendship.

Y/N’s dad got a promotion, so they had to move to England, where Y/N finished high school and started college. Now, though, her dad had been offered to go back to New York if he wanted. And because he missed the city and his friends, he said yes.

The first thing Y/N did when she found out was text her best friends—Quinn and Ethan, with whom she had kept contact with despite the distance. She was excited to see them, and wondered what she would feel when she finally saw Ethan again. She’d like to think she got over her crush, but that’s because they hadn’t seen each other in four years.

And there she was, about to find out. Y/N was standing in front of the Bailey’s house with her parents behind her. The door opened and Y/N’s chest grew tight in anticipation, and then she held a sigh of disappointment when Wayne’s face appeared.

The older man greeted her parents with enthusiasm, and when it was her time to say hello, the man opened his mouth in shock “Oh my! You’ve grown a lot! It’s nice to see you again, Y/N”

“You too, Wayne” she hugged him awkwardly. Y/N wasn’t his biggest fan, she still remember all too well the way he treated Ethan. Always comparing him to Richie, making him feel like garbage.

“Quinn and Richie are in the kitchen” he informed her. She nodded and made her way to said place.

As soon as she set foot on the big kitchen, she was attacked by a hug. “Oh my god! You’re here!” she recognized the voice of Quinn.

“I’m here! I missed you” she broke the hug to take a look at her friend’s new hairstyle “Red is definitely your color, Q. You look so good.”

“And London certainly benefited you, holy shit. You look hot. Give me a chance?” the red-head joked.

“Absolutely” she laughed, hugging her once more. “I can’t believe I’m back”

“Hi, Y/N” Richie finally managed to find his voice. He had been completely entranced by the girl. Quinn was right, she got hot. He had never noticed her, because well, he had always seen her as his sibling’s friend and because she had been 15 when she left. Now, she was 19 and super attractive.

“Oh, sorry. Hi, Richie. Nice to see you again” she gave him a little wave. Y/N wasn’t sure she liked the way Richie was shamelessly checking her out. “Where is Eth?” she tried not to sound so excited.

“Oh, he’s in his room, as always. Drowning himself in text books and having no social life whatsoever” Richie rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“He doesn’t know you’re coming today, so go surprise him” Quinn said, eyeing the way Y/N’s knuckles turned white. She had always hated when people talked badly about Ethan, and apparently, it didn’t change.

Y/N walked up the stairs, anguish filling her stomach and her heart beating so fast it made her cheeks turn red. She stood in front of the door, trying to gain the courage to knock. There was just one door separating her from Ethan, the guy who had been her first crush ever. Her best friend in the entire world.

“Come in” she heard, and almost fainted. Not because she was seconds away from seeing his face after four years, but because she noticed the change in his voice. It was deeper, raspier and… hot.

Y/N took a deep breath and opened the door. There he was, lying on his bed, headphones flattening his perfect curly hair and book open on his lap.

His round brown eyes found hers, and he jumped off the bed so fast he got dizzy. Y/N laughed and ran into his arms, that were instantly wrapped around her lower back to pull her up and against his chest. Her legs locked around his waist.

“Please tell me you’re real and I’m not making you up” Ethan said, face between her neck and shoulder blades.

“I’m real” she laughed. “And I’m back to stay. Holy shit, you got so fucking tall”

“And you have not grown and inch” he joked, letting her feet touch the ground again.

“Mean” Y/N punched his arm playfully. “Where is your Justin Bieber haircut?!”

“That was a phase I don’t want to remember” he shook his head. “What, you don’t like my curls?”

“No… I love them. You have amazing hair” Y/N complimented.

Ethan blushed, and took his time to let his eyes take in her face. Her factions were more defined, her lips were fuller, eyes a little darker but still very bright, and smile as warm as ever. She had grown a bit, but she was still short compared to him, her head barely reached his shoulders. She looked even prettier than before, and Ethan couldn’t believe he would be able to see her everyday.

The tall boy had also changed a lot, and Y/N needed to figure out how to stop looking at him before she weirded him out. His jawline was sharp as a diamond, his cheekbones more defined, and surprisingly, he had muscles. Enthralling, captivating muscles. He was pretty, adorable and hot at the same time and Y/N’s doubts faded away—her crush on him was still very much intact.

“You look stunning, Y/N/N. I missed you” he said in a low voice. They were so close, his arms still around her, and the moment felt intimate and cozy. It was at that moment Y/N realized how much she had missed her home.

“I missed you too” she smiled, happiness was radiating off her. Y/N was so happy she could cry. “Can I hug you again?”

“You don’t have to ask. You know I love your hugs, and I missed them. So, you’ll have to hug me a lot to make up for the lost time” Ethan answered, chest almost exploding for the amount of adoration he felt for her.

None of them knew for how long they stayed in each others arms, if it had been just minutes or hours, but they did know that either way, it hadn’t been enough. They could’ve stayed like that forever.

SAYING THAT Y/N CAUGHT THE ATTENTION OF EVERY BLACKMORE STUDENTS WOULD BE GOING A LITTLE TOO FAR, but she certainly had the attention of the people she had classes with. Not only because of her looks, but also because she entered in the middle of the semester, which was extremely unusual. Y/N hated the twenty pairs of eyes on her, but she was thankful she at least had Ethan by her side.

The nerdy boy felt a little uneased by the reaction Y/N caused. She had always been someone only Ethan used to notice—thought he never understood why, because she was the most amazing girl in the world—, and the thought of that changing made him panic. Because there were so many guys who were better than him, and now that she had options, Ethan knew Y/N would never choose him.

“How is your first day going?” to her surprise, Richie asked.

“Um, good?” she said, unsure. It was weird, Richie and her had never been friends. He had never cared about her well-being, what was his deal now? She didn’t know.

But Ethan did, he could see it in his brother’s eyes. Richie was interested in Y/N and it made his blood boil. He knew Ethan had feelings for her, but of course he didn’t care.

“Great. If you need anything, feel free to tell me” he said, winking at her before leaving.

“That’s the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me. Is he okay? Did he fell from the stairs and hit his head or something?” Y/N asked Ethan.

The brunet laughed “He kind of became the ‘it’ boy of college, which fed his ego and makes him brave enough to flirt with every hot girl that crosses his path. You’re his next target.”

Richie had always been popular amongst girls—he was attractive, had that attitude girls found hot, and was sometimes funny—and exactly the type who would never look at Y/N’s way, or so she thought.

She couldn’t imagine herself with him, not only because ‘it’ boys weren’t her kind of boys, but also because her heart yearned for Ethan. Even when she knew he would never look at her as more than a friend.

“Well, time to damage it boy’s ego” Y/N said.

Ethan looked at her surprised “You are not into him?”

“Ethan, what the actual fuck? No!“ she laughed in shock. Wasn’t it painfully obvious that she had a crush on him and not Richie? Guess not. Or maybe Ethan was way too oblivious.

“Okay” wasn’t she imagine it or did she actually hear relief in his voice?

ETHAN AND RICHIE SAT ON THE BEACH CHAIRS NEXT TO THEIR POOL, THEIR EYES ON THE VOLEY MATCH HAPPENING IN FRONT OF THEM. It was Quinn and Y/N vs. Tara and Mindy, and Ethan’s eyes were specifically focused on Y/N’s figure. Richie couldn’t pass the opportunity to tease him.

"You think she's pretty?" Richie asked him, sarcasm present in his voice.

"Yeah, and you do too," his brother replied, already annoyed, trying to brush it off.

"I hadn't noticed, really," Richie said, smirking. He enjoyed seeing his brother angry so much, and he knew Y/N was his weak point.

"Come on, man. I've noticed you noticing. And she did too” Ethan said, frowning.

“She does? Maybe I should ask her out, then.” Richie said, hoping this would make Ethan fume.

However, the nerdy boy gave him a smile. “Do it.” he tried to suppress a smirk at his brother’s confused reaction.

“Hey, enjoyed the game?” Y/N asked. They had been so sumerged in their conversation they hadn’t noticed the match ended.

Ethan flashed her his sweet pretty smile, which she mirrored “You’re good, Y/N/N.”

“Thanks, Eth” if her cheeks hadn’t been already red from the heat and the exercise, Ethan would’ve noticed the effect his words had on her.

“Do you want water, gorgeous?” Richie asked, with a sly grin. Ethan clenched his jaw and Y/N tried not to make a disgusted face.

“Yes, but I’ll go get it” Y/N said walking to the kitchen before Richie could beat her. Ethan followed her, feeling Richie’s eyes on the back of his head. “Does he not get the hint? I have given no signs that I like him”

“I should probably warn you, he’s going to ask you out” Ethan told her, leaning against the counter and she poured water in a glass.

“Oh god, you know what? It’s fine, I’m just going to tell him he’s not the one I’m interested in” Y/N said.

Ethan stiffened “What do you mean by that? You’re interested in someone?” his chest contracted.

Y/N then realized what she had said. “Oh… well, yeah.”

The boy nodded, trying not to show how much it hurt “Are they from London?”

Y/N shook her head “No, he is from here.” she admitted.

“Oh… you met him at college?” he asked. Why was he asking? He was a fucking masochist.

“No… but he goes to our college”

“So that means you met him before you moved to London” Ethan deduced.

Y/N nodded “Waay before I moved. I have known him my whole life” she said. He’s got to figure it out now.

“I have no fricking idea” Ethan laughed. “I don’t remember you hanging out with someone who wasn’t Quinn or me.”

“Ethan are you serious?” Y/N groaned. Guess he really was oblivious. Ethan looked at her, very lost. “I’m talking about you, you idiot. Honestly, for someone that smart you can really be dumb sometimes.”

“Me? You like me?” Ethan pointed at himself in disbelief.

“I have liked you since we were fourteen, Eth. Never stopped liking you” Y/N smiled nervously. What was going to happen next? Rejection or reciprocation?

“Are you sure?” he asked in a low tone.

Y/N let out a giggle “Yes, Ethan, pretty sure I know my emotions. Do you know yours?”

“I win” Ethan said, making her frown, not understanding what he meant. “I have liked you since we were thirteen. So I won.”

The girl rolled her eyes, smile painted on her face as she walked closer to him and hugged him. “Well, guess the loser is the one who has to ask the question” Ethan raised his eyebrows in amusement, liking were this conversation was going. “Ethan, would you like to be my boyfriend?”

“I would love to be your boyfriend, Y/N” he replied. Y/N could feel his heartbeats through his shirt as his arms were wrapped around her lower back. “Can I kiss you, girlfriend?”

“Yes, you can, boyfriend” she closed her arms around his neck and brought him down to meet her lips. Mint got mixed with cherry, and their soft lips danced with each other in one perfect and very awaited kiss.

The slow and calm kiss turned into a rougher and wilder one. His hands went under her white tank top as hers messed with his soft curls. Ethan turned them around, so that she was now pressed against the counter. But soon, he lifted her up and set her on it. She opened her legs so he could step between them and deepened the kiss.

“You’re my best friend” Y/N whispered breathlessly against his lips.

Ethan smiled “You’re my best friend, too. I love you”

“I love you” she said back, before kissing him once again.

Quinn, Richie, Tara and Mindy entered the kitchen and stood still at the scene happening in front of them. The two teenagers were so engrossed in their lustful kiss that they didn’t notice them until Quinn yelled “Not in the counter, we use it to cook!”

“Kids nowadays have zero respect” Mindy shook her head.

“This is a family house!” Tara exclaimed. Richie just stood there completely dumbfounded, which made Ethan feel even more victorious.

“Oh, we have been waiting this for years, leave us alone” Y/N rolled her eyes, but got off the counter anyways. Ethan draped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“They’re cute, you have to give them that” Tara said to Quinn.

“Are you two official?” Quinn asked, now unable to hide her smile.

“Yes” they said in unison, smiling to each other.

#ethan landry #ethanlandry #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry fic #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x reader #jack champion oneshot #jack champion #jackchampion #jack champion x reader #jack champion x y/n #jack champion imagine #jack champion fluff #jack champion fanfic

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sturnmaee · 4 months

Text

Below the Table.

requested: yes!!

summary: y/n has to find a fake boyfriend who will convince her family during their fancy dinner, little do they know what’s going on below the table.

warnings: smut, fake dating trope, matt sturniolo x reader.

word count: 1,498!! (a little longer than usual)

“and you won’t believe what i said next!” i cried out to the triplets, they all stared at me while sitting on the edge of their lounge chairs.

“cmon, tell us already!” chris giggled

“you’re killing us!” nick added.

i finally calmed down my laughter and got the words out “i told them i had a boyfriend! so now i have to find one before tonight!” i cried, burring my face into my hands while still giggling.

i looked over to matt, his face an unusual shade of pink.

“you’re fuckin’ with us,” said nick while his jaw was still hanging past his knees, “you haven’t had one since freshman year!”

“i know! i know, i’m just so sick of them teasing me about it” i replied.

“well y/n, you just created yourself a shitty night!” giggled chris while getting up. i rolled my eyes teasingly, matt still sitting quietly in the corner.

“matt did you hear what y/n just said!” wheezed nick while punching his arm, bringing him back to life.

“oh, um yea” he said quietly, looking straight back down at his phone.

“oh my god. y/n, i’ve found your date for tonight.” nick said while holding matt’s shoulders and giving him a shake, “he’s perfect for you, look how cute he is!” he said while jokingly holding matt’s face.

"what, no way, i don't want to drag poor matt into my family drama" i said while staring at matt who now had an innocent smile on his face.

"i don't mind y/n, plus it will give me an excuse to get out of the house." he said eagerly while giving me a small smirk.

"are you sure matt, this means so much you don't understand!" i squealed while getting up to join him and nick. "but no funny business," i said firmly, "this is just to help me convince my family i'm not some loner."

"whatever you say princess." matt said in a joking tone, nick giggling next to him. i couldn't help but laugh with them. "i'll see you at seven."

i finally made it back to my apartment to get ready for dinner. i stood in front of my mirror in my favourite tight black dress, admiring my curves while clipping on my earrings when suddenly the doorbell rang, matt. i rushed over to the door, my heels tapping along the floor. i opened the door for him while still trying to fix my earrings.

“hey i’ll be out in a sec.” i said while focusing on grabbing my handbag and phone.

“holy shit,” matt whispered, taking in my body with his eyes, “why have i never seen you dressed like this before.” he added.

“ew matt, don’t be weird. remember this is just for tonight buddy.” i said bluntly while stepping out the door, locking it behind me. we made our way to the elevator, matt leading me by resting his hand just above my ass.

“matt get your hand off me.” i said in a jokey tone.

“hey don’t get mad at me im just trying to get into the role.” he replied while the elevator door shut behind us. i couldn’t help but laugh as his lips curled into his perfect smile.

the entrance of the restaurant was crowded with people, i could feel my nerves bubbling in my stomach. we made our way over to the large table, my family shining radiant smiles in our direction.

“oh honey!” my mother said happily while pulling me into a hug “why have you been hiding this handsome man from us?” she questioned while waving a hand at matt, his smile bigger than ever.

“it’s so nice to meet you mrs y/l/n.” matt said, his voice clear and sweet.

we made our way around the table, greeting all my family members who were more than excited to finally meet my ‘boyfriend’. matt pulled my chair out, waiting for me to sit before he did.

“such a gentleman.” i teased, his ocean eyes beaming while being hidden by his dark hair.

about an hour had passed and we all had finished our meals, the rest of my family chatting now.

the restaurant was packed tonight, chatter filling the atmosphere, i could feel my clammy palms lay in my lap while my leg bounced trying to distract myself. matt gave me a worried look before placing his rough hand onto my thigh, giving me a reassuring rub with his thumb.

“it’s okay, don’t stress.” he mouthed. i gave him a warm smile before placing my hand on top of his.

i felt his hand sneaking further up my dress, my face burning up as he brushed my now throbbing clit through my laced panties. my legs bucking below the table, a small smirk painting his face as he continued to tease me. i shot him a look before being interrupted by one of my family members.

“are we ready for the bill lovebirds?” my father said with a smile on his face, unaware of what was happening below the table.

“yes sir.” matt replied while still teasing me. i felt my breathing pick up, my core begging for release.

“alright then, it was lovely meeting you matthew, you two have an amazing night.” my parents said happily.

“are you serious matt?!” i said jokingly while watching him grip the steering wheel of the van.

“just part of my role princess.” he replied with a grin on his face.

his ring clad hands looking perfect as he pulled into the parking lot, the headlights beaming. “want me to walk you up?” he questioned. i nodded happily in response. i made my way over to the elevator, feeling his presence behind me as we got in.

“you look beautiful tonight y/n/n.” he said as the elevator dinged. a blush taking over my cheeks.

“we don’t have to pretend any more matt nobody’s around.” i joked in response while jamming the keys into my door, matt still behind me as i stepped inside.

his deep eyes meeting mine, as he unbuttoned his black tux. his hair sitting perfectly above his eyes as they take me in.

“i don’t want to pretend anymore y/n.” he said with a raspy voice making his way closer to me.

“what do you mean by that matty?” i said knowing full well what he meant, my core begging for him.

his body inches away from mine as he grabbed my hips, arching me into him, my breathing hitched at the sudden friction of his bulge pushing against me. “you know exactly what i mean, stop being such a tease.” he whispered into my ear before kissing my neck. a quiet moan slipping past my lips. before i could even respond he gripped me by my ass and carried me to my room. placing me gently on the bed not daring to break our kiss.

he pulled away roughly, “you’re sure you’re okay with this?” he asked while running a thumb over my bottom lip.

“more than okay.” i said while out of breath and trying to remove my dress.

he smiled while leaving a kiss down my neck, helping me take off my dress. my red bra and matching panties exposed. his eyes burned holes into my skin as be took me in. “god you’re gorgeous.” he said rushing to undo his belt, throwing it to the floor before removing every last bit of clothing.

his cock now in his hand, tip red and drooling with precum. his finger hooked around my soaked panties before pulling them to the side. his tip now teasing my swollen clit. before i could get a word out he had bottomed out inside me hitting places i’ve never felt before.

“oh god matt!” i whimpered while gripping the sheets for support.

my pleas only driving him more, his pace picking up as the most angelic moans left his mouth. his silky hair bouncing with every thrust.

the familiar knot was growing tighter in my core as i clawed into his back. “i’m so fucking close matt.” i managed to say in between moans of pleasure.

his thrusts growing sloppier as he gripped my breast, hard enough to bruise, pornographic moans spilling from my lips as a wave of pleasure took over my body.

my tight walls now clamping down onto his veined cock, his head flying back in pleasure. he gave three hard thrusts leaving me seeing stars before filling me with long, warm ropes of thick cum.

“o-oh god.” he whimpered while falling on top of me, his arms still flexing as he held most of his weight up.

my breathing was still heavy as he lied next to me on his side, his arm propping up his head while he traced circles with his finger tips over my smooth skin.

“what happened to no funny business?” he teased while giggling.

i jokingly pushed him away, but before i could give him a response, he moved his face closer to mine leaving a soft kiss on my lips before brushing the hairs out of my face.

this was so rushed i’m so sorry 😓

i also hate the ending, but i hope you all enjoy 😘😘

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #fanfic #smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader

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racinggirl · 10 months

Text

unspoken words || max verstappen 1

type: one shot pairing: max verstappen x reader word count: 3.5k summary: admitting your feelings isn't that easy, especially when the man you're having feelings for is your brother's best friend... requested: yes! I've combined multiple requests for this fic, simply because I feel like they all fit well together! ''PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE write something for max thank you I love you & hey! can i request something with max that's angst to fluff or possibly hurt/comfort? feel like that trope really suits max for whatever reason?? anyways thank you! + i love your writing <;3 & driverXbestfriends!sister with max and daniel’s sister plsss & max verstappen, enemies to lovers, drivers x driver or driver x driver/bestfriend!sister & Could you do one where the reader is drunk out of her mind coming back from a party/club then maybe she throws up and max just comforts her and helps her shower to get clean?'' requests are CLOSED!!! warnings: angst, alcohol, reader being drunk, anxiety (a little?), protective!max. notes: HOOOLY FCK this took long. I think I've been working on it for literal MONTHS. However, it's finished, and I really hope you like it. Please leave a comment or even a reblog, because it's really something that keeps me motivated other than a like. Don't read me wrong, I love to get likes, it's just that a comment feels a lot more personal! Also, it's been so long, I've had to look up one of my older fics to see how I used to make this set up thingy. It's been way too long and I've missed you all <3 P.S. Did you guess correctly who the brother was?

My masterlist

Formula 1, something you had grown up with ever since your brother decided it was his passion, his world. And it slowly became yours too. Accompanying him at races became a monthly habit, and even though you were still in college, you always found a way to support your brother from the garages in the pitlane. Starting in the Toro Rosso garage, making your way to the Redbull garage. Renault was the next place you’d find yourself, and it all ended last year, in the McLaren garages.

It was a time of uncertainty for both Daniel and your family, as you knew how much love your brother had for the motorsports. He always mentioned that he’d rather live racing, than race living, because that’s what, according to him, wasn’t the goal in life. You had to enjoy every moment of your life, something he would often refer to as ‘enjoy the butterflies’.

The uncertainty soon ended when Daniel told you he was going back to Redbull. ‘’But you must keep it quiet, little one.’’ He told you with a smirk plastered on his face. ‘’Oh my god, are you for real? That’s incredible, Dandan! I’m so proud of you!’’ That was your first reaction, because you were beyond excited for your brother. Even if it was as a reserve driver, you couldn’t obtain your excitement.

It wasn’t just because of Daniel you were a Redbull fan, but ever since 2016, you had secretly started to admire the team more and more. Sure, your brother had always been your idol, and you couldn’t help but feel an intense rush of pride every time he got behind the wheel. But your attention wasn’t solely focussed on him.

Max Verstappen, currently one of the best drivers on the grid, and one of your brothers’ best friends, was the reason you could feel your heart pounding against your chest once you stepped foot back into the navy-blue garages. You and Max had known each other for quite a few years now, ever since he joined the Redbull team back in 2016. He was a few years older than you, and your admiration for him slowly grew into something more.

His talent, charm, and his fierce determination were something you found yourself captivated by, and it only grew more every time you saw him. But you were just Daniel’s little sister, at least you thought.

Monaco 2023, the Grand Prix of Europe, where the high class, fancy people wandering the paddock made you feel like a teenage schoolgirl on your first day of university. Even though you were twenty-three years old, and couldn’t complain about the money you had, you were never one to dress like you were attending a royal wedding.

You were watching the cars, and then looked at your brother, who was dressed in his Redbull polo, seated on the pitwall whilst you were standing in the back of the garage, him watching the screens. As soon as the camera turned to capture the Australian man on the pitwall, you could hear the crowd go absolutely wild. They loved him, and so did you.

After the race, you made your way over towards your brother’s apartment, changing your outfit for something more afterparty worthy. That’s where you were going, and you knew it was one of the few chances you had of being close to Max.

Realising the feelings you had for Max were more than just friendly, brought a bittersweet taste to those afterparty’s, because you knew Max probably didn’t feel the same about you. You always did your best to hide your emotions, burying them deep inside so that nobody, not even Max, could catch a glimpse of your true feelings. It was a delicate balancing act, pretending to be just friends while your heart yearned for something more.

‘’Hey, congrats on your win.’’ You embraced the Dutch driver as he was quick in placing his arms around your body, pulling you in for a friendly hug.

‘’Thanks, y/n, I’m glad you’re here.’’ He partially shouted over the music, your cheeks heating up at the thought of what he meant, or what you thought he meant.

You quickly shook that thought away and nodded at him, shooting your shiny smile, the one you and your brother had in common, and you pulled yourself away from his hug.

As the night went on, both you and Max were sharing stories and naked truths, finding yourself on a conversation that went beyond your usual banter. The alcohol loosened your inhibitions, blurring the lines between friendship and something more. It was dangerous territory, and you both knew it.

‘’Naked truth coming.’’ He said, leaning against the wall in front of you as you stood facing him, the blue coloured cocktail in your hand. Your eyes went over his features as he licked his lips, ready to tell you one of his naked truths.

‘’I’m not going to sign a new contract after this one.’’ He smirked, watching you, looking for your response. You weren’t surprised, to be fair. You kind of did see it coming, because there have been quite some rumours going around lately. But you did feel privileged as he trusted you enough to say this. It might be due to the alcohol he had burning in his system, but you liked it, you liked this intoxicated version of Max, because this way you could be close to him, without anyone thinking anything.

‘’Your turn.’’ He smirked, stepping a little closer and you could swear you felt his body heat warming you up, even though you were still a meter apart from each other. Your mind was trying to come up with something, because you had to be careful of what to say. You wanted to tell him about your feelings, you wanted to speak the words that had been dancing on the tip of your tongue for so long now, but you couldn’t, and you hated it.

‘’I think I’m in love with one of Daniel’s friends’’ you managed to spill, avoiding his eyes as you immediately tried to wash your mouth with the alcohol in the cup you were holding. You searched for the straw with your tongue, sucking the burning liquid through the straw, all the way to your throat, as if it made your words less harsh.

‘’Really?’’ Max answered, clearly not expecting this kind of naked truth coming out of your mouth. ‘’Who?’’ He immediately shot this question after the other, wanting to know which guy stole your heart, but little did he know.

‘’Do I know him?’’ You could almost facepalm yourself at the awkwardness, because now you knew you had to lie to the world champion. ‘’No, I mean, I don’t think so…’’ you simply replied.

As you continued to avoid Max’ gaze, you felt a mixture of relief and regret for not being completely honest with him. Regret, because you wanted to tell him the truth, you didn’t want to hide your true feelings any longer, but relief, because you knew that if you would have spoken the truth, things would have become more than awkward between the two of you. Besides, what were the chances that he would feel the same way about you?

However, Max’ eyes did not leave your face, trying to study your expression for a moment, he was seemingly lost in thought. The weight of his silence was hanging in the air, and you could almost hear a pin drop. Your heart was racing with anticipation, but then he finally let out a deep breath, breaking the heavy silence.

‘’Well, whoever it is, they are a lucky person,’’ he said softly, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place crossing his eyes. Happiness? Sadness? Jealousy? Relief? You couldn’t place it. However, you started to remind yourself that he probably wasn’t talking about you, but that it must have been a general statement, a well-intentioned compliment.

As the night wore on, the music became a distant hum, the conversations of the people around you started to fade as you let the alcohol numb your feelings. It was one way of forgetting them, or at least, not having to think of them. The tension between you and Max was heavier than before, and it was as if the universe wanted to test you, pushing you closer to the edge of admitting your true feelings.

With each sip, each passing moment, your longing for Max intensified, but the fear of rejection held you back from speaking the unspoken words. You knew that crossing that thin line of friendship with Max could change everything, although you weren’t sure if you wanted to take that risk.

As the afterparty came to an end, you stumbled out into the cool night air, the city lights blurred before your eyes as you faced reality. Max didn’t love you, and the love you had for him would forever be unspoken.

‘’There you are!’’ You heard a faint voice, a pair of arms holding you by your elbows as you saw the man in front of you. ‘’Jesus, how much alcohol have you had?’’ Daniel had a concerned yet relieved expression on his face as he embraced you in a hug.

When you entered what you thought was Daniel’s apartment, alone, you immediately located yourself on the nearest couch, laying down as your stomach started to twist and turn because of the litres of alcoholic beverages you had been consuming this night. Your hand was fumbling around in your bag the moment you felt something buzz, and without blinking, you answered the phone call you were receiving.

‘’Hello… y/n?... where are you?... hello?’’

‘’Hello,’’ you managed to croak into the phone, your voice barely audible as you fought off the dizziness and nausea that threatened to consume you. ‘’I’m… I’m at Daniel’s… apartment.’’

The voice on the other end of the line sounded frantic. It was Max. ‘’Y/n, stay there. Don’t move, I’m coming to get you.’’ His tone was laced with worry, and you could hear the urgency in his voice.

As you waited, your mind started to spin, mainly because of the alcohol, but also because of the confusion. Was Max coming over because he was genuinely concerned about your wellbeing, or was he just being a good friend to both you and Daniel?

Minutes felt like hours as you lay on the couch, your mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. Finally, you heard the sound of hurried footsteps approaching the apartment. The door swung open, and there stood Max, breathless and confused at the same time. His eyes widened as he took in your state, and he rushed to your side, concern etched deep into him.

‘’What happened, y/n? Are you okay?’’ Max’ voice was filled with genuine worry, his hands gently cradling your face as he tried to assess your condition.

You forced a weak smile, trying to make Max feel a little more at ease about the situation. ‘’I… I had a bit too much to drink. I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t mean to worry you.’’

His eyes saw straight through you, his gaze piercing into yours, his worry transitioning into a mix of frustration and tenderness. ‘’You should have known better, y/n. Drinking yourself into this state… it’s not like you.’’ His words were filled with disappointment, and you felt a stab of guilt pierce through your already shattered heart.

He helped you sit up and handed you a glass of water, his touch gentle, but you felt every nerve on your skin tingling with his touch. You couldn’t help but feel the weight of his disappointment, causing you to feel even more ashamed of what you had managed to get yourself into. It was as if your actions, your decisions to drink more alcohol than you could consume to keep a somewhat sober state, caused your friendship with Max to become even more tensed.

‘’I know,’’ you whispered, avoiding his gaze as you took a sip of water, hoping it would wash away not only the physical effects of the alcohol, but also the mistakes you had made. ‘’I’m sorry, Max. I didn’t mean to disappoint you.’’

His expression softened a little, but the tension remained. ‘’You didn’t disappoint me,’’ he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of genuine concern, but also a slight frustration. Was he frustrated with himself for making you feel as if he was disappointed, or was he frustrated with you, for putting yourself in this kind of state?

‘’I’m just worried about you, y/n. You mean a lot to me, and seeing you like this… it hurts.’’

The honesty in his words made you tear up, tears welling up in your eyes. You had been longing for a moment like this, a chance to be vulnerable with Max, but not like this. ‘’Why did you let yourself get this drunk, y/n, you’re never drunk, you hate being drunk.’’

You knew he was right, and that made you feel even worse, because he knew you so well, your friendship had grown into such a big thing, that you feared breaking it. You were scared of crossing that thin line, and losing Max, both as a friend, and possibly something more than that.

But you knew you had to spill the words, because the pain of keeping your feelings bottled up was becoming unbearable, even if the fear of rejection still lingered.

‘’I…’’ You started, trying to one by one collect the words, the words that would cause either a lot of damage, or a lot of relief. ‘’I’m sorry for everything. I just can’t hide it anymore. I’m sorry for hiding my feelings, for not being honest with you. I… I love you, Max. I’ve loved you for so long, and it’s tearing me apart. I thought maybe if I’d get wasted, I’d stop the pain in my chest, at least for this evening. Because I couldn’t bear it anymore, it hurts.’’

The room fell silent as your confession hung in the air, the weight of your emotions suffocating you. Max’ eyes widened, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decipher the truth behind your words.

‘’Y/n,’’ he whispered, his voice barely audible. ‘’I… I had no idea.’’

This could go two ways, and that mixture of hope and fear filled you up, danced within you as you waited for Max to speak again, you had to know if he felt the same way. But before he could respond, a voice broke through the tension that had been built up, slicing through the moment of vulnerability you were in right now.

‘’What’s going on here?’’ Daniel’s voice boomed from the doorway, his eyes filled with concern and confusion as he took in the scene before him.

You quickly managed to stand up, your hand rising to wipe the tears that were on your skin, the rawness of your emotions leaving you in a horrible situation right now. Max stood up as well, his gaze shifting between you and Daniel. He was lost for words, and it was evident on his face.

‘’Daniel, I…’’ you began, struggling to find the right words, how were you going to explain to him that you just confessed your feelings to one of his best mates? You didn’t have to, because your brother held his hand up, cutting you off.

‘’Not now,’’ he said firmly, his voice filled with a mix of protectiveness and disappointment. ‘’Y/n, let’s get you to bed. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.’’

And so, days went on, you explained Daniel you just drank a little too much, and that Max was there to bring you home, and waited till he would arrive home so Max could go to his own apartment. You hated lying to your brother, because you two were so close, and you felt as if the tension with Max now also elongated to you and your brother.

It was race weekend, yet again, and you and Max had avoided each other the entire week already. You never received an answer from him, after you poured your heart out, explaining to him you had been in love with him for a while now.

Every time you saw Verstappen in the paddock, you felt a pang of regret, wishing you had never revealed your true feelings. Those once unspoken words were better than the distance the two of you had now, the pain of those unspoken feelings was better than the pain you felt every time you saw the Dutch man.

It became harder to pretend everything was normal when the truth hung in the air, casting a shadow over your interactions. The once vibrant friendship between you and Max seemed to fade, replaced by awkward glances and strained conversations. The pitlane, once a place of excitement and joy, now felt suffocating, reminding you of what you could never have. Max.

As the season progressed, you found your strength in supporting your brother at Alpha Tauri and throwing yourself into your studies. You buried your emotions deep within, trying to move on from the pain of rejection. But no matter how hard you tried, thoughts of Max lingered the corners of your mind, constantly reminding you of those words that were no longer unspoken.

Months passed, and the distance between you and Max only grew wider. The dynamics within the team had shifted, mostly because Daniel was no longer in the same garages as Max was. This made you feel like an outsider, looking in. The once close group Daniel would bring you along in, was now separated, fragmented, and you longed for days when everything was simpler, when your love for Formula 1 brought you together rather than tearing you apart.

One evening, as you sat alone in Daniel’s apartment, as he was in Italy for some meetings for Alpha Tauri, you received a text message from a not unknown number. Curiosity and a glimmer of hope filled your heart as you read the words on the screen.

‘It’s Max. Can we meet and talk? I need to apologize.’

Your heart raced with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. You agreed to meet him the next day at Daniel’s apartment, knowing your brother wouldn’t be home this week anyways. He gave you full responsibility for the apartment.

When you opened the door and saw Max standing there, you couldn’t help but notice the weariness in his eyes. He looked nervous, his usually confidence replaced by vulnerability. As he walked inside the apartment, he sat down after you gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa.

‘’I’m sorry, y/n,’’ he began, his voiced laced with regret. ‘’I didn’t handle things well after you confessed your feelings. I was caught off guard, and I didn’t know how to respond. I let our friendship suffer because of it, and I’m sorry.’’

You sat up straight, taking a deep breath to maintain your somewhat calm heart. You had missed the connection you once shared with him, and hearing him acknowledge his mistakes brought a sense of relief. Even though your feelings for him were still very much apparent, you’d rather deal with that pain, than the pain of never seeing him again.

‘’I understand,’’ you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of pain and forgiveness. ‘’It’s not easy for either of us. I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship, but the feelings became too much to bear.’’

Max reached across the couch and gently took your hand in his, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. ‘’I’ve been doing some soul-searching, y/n. I realised that I’ve been pushing my own feelings aside because I was afraid of losing what we had. I guess you just had more balls to admit it, which made me think.’’

Your heart skipped a beat, hoping flickering within you. ‘’What are you saying, Max?’’

He took a deep breath, his grip on your hand tightening. ‘’I’m saying that I’ve come to realise how much you mean to me. I’ve been blind to the love that’s been right in front of me all this time. I don’t want to let fear hold me back anymore. I want to give us a chance.’’

The emotions you were feeling at this moment were all over the place – joy, relief, and a renewed sense of hope. The pain and regret that had haunted you for so long began to dissipate, replaced by the possibility of something beautiful.

‘’I want that too, Max. I’ve been forcing myself to get a grip and end my feelings, but I couldn’t. I’ve never stopped loving you.’’

In that moment, the weight of unspoken words lifted, and the hand Max was holding a few seconds ago found itself at his cheek. His hands slowly moved from your arms to your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his.

‘’May I?’’ He whispered, his voice so delicate, gentle, barely above a whisper. You always imagined your kiss with Max to be out of this world, but the tender feeling of his lips, the smell of his minty breath and his hands caressing your cheeks as if you were a porcelain doll were more than you could ever imagine.

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astraysimp · 4 months

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𓆩⟡𓆪Hello hello! It’s 9mitm Friday! It’s our dumpling boy’s turn and man…..this one challenged me. My brain was working hard trying to figure out and plan this fic. LMAO, I enjoyed the challenge and hope you guys enjoy this chapter! XOXO

𓆩⟡𓆪Summary: For as long as you could remember–once your cousins and siblings had found partners, got married and had kids- your family always asked when it was going to be your turn. You hated it, seeing as it got brought up at every family function, but when you and Hyunjin announced your ‘relationship’ last year they shut up….but they still asked about kids…..until you and Hyune showed up with your baby in tow

𓆩⟡𓆪Warnings: fake dating(to real dating) trope, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, reader’s family is kinda annoying, you and Hyun have kept your baby a secret(no ill intentions), fem!reader, petnames, if my math of baby’s age doesn’t line actually make sense please pretend it does :D

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Ah, Christmas dinner with your family. You loved it….but you also dreaded it. Aunts, uncles, cousins, your siblings, your parents, grandparents all asked when you were going to find a boyfriend, when you were going to get married, when you were going to have kids. It annoyed you to no end. That was until last year when Hyunjin had suggested that you two ‘date’ to shut them up. So, you did, appearing at your family’s Christmas dinner hand in hand.

“Wah, our y/n finally got herself a boyfriend!”

“Finally! She’s not single anymore!”

“A boyfriend?! Oh my god, you brought your boyfriend?!”

“When did you meet?!”

“How long have you been together?!”

“He’s so handsome! Where did you meet him?!”

That was all you heard, until you heard the “so, when are you having kids?” You and Hyunjin hadn’t known what to say, heck your ‘relationship’ was only a show, to shut them up. So, you didn’t answer, telling them, “oh, it’ll be a while.”

It ,in fact, was not a little while. You and Hyunjin had baby Iseul only 9 months later. But, opted not to tell your family, due to wanting to soak up and bask in your new lives as parents.

That brought you to now.

Currently, it was Christmas day and you were getting Iseul ready to go to your family’s Christmas dinner. You were already dressed, wearing a red dress, the skirt sparsely covered in gold sequins, a pair of nylon tights on your legs, a pair of delicate black heels on your feet. You curled your hair, tying half of it up with a bow, your makeup already done– brown and gold eyeshadow accentuated your eyes, blank eyeliner elongating them and ruby red lipstick gracing your plump lips.

Tonight, you and Hyunjin were going to introduce Iseul to your family.

A lot in both yours and Hyunjin’s lives had changed. Your( what started as a fake) relationship had blossomed into a real relationship, you had Iseul 5 months ago, you lived together, he gave you a promise ring, you met his family. Oh, did I mention, you had a baby 5 months ago? Because you did, and her name is Iseul. She is a dream, not fussy, has Hyunjin’s pouty lips, and doesn't cry a lot. You and Hyunjin love her, actually love is too weak a word.

Smiling, you looked down to see Iseul trying to put her foot in her mouth. Laughing, you gently held her legs in your hands, sliding a pair of tights onto her chubby legs. “Hi, my dewdrop. Are you so excited? You get to meet your grandma and grandpa, and your aunts and uncles?” You giggled, as Iseul held her arms and legs up. She giggled as you tickled her belly, high pitched squeals and giggles erupting through the room. Her laugh was one of your favorite things about her, the way she so effortlessly lit up your life with her giggle. Grabbing the dress from beside you, you carefully slid it over her head and put her arms through the sleeves.

My first Christmas

The dress read, across its velvet red fabric, white letters spelling out the words.There was soft fur, along the hem, neckline and sleeves. She looked too cute. Sliding a pair of matching socks over her feet, you smiled and tied her soft baby hair in a ponytail and added a bow. “Oh look at my baby girl! My baby girl is so cute! Should we show appa how cute you are?” You smiled, and gently picked her up, holding her on your hip, as you pointed in the mirror. “There she is! There’s my dewdrop!” You smiled, bouncing her on your hip as she giggled. “Let’s show appa, yeah?!”

Speaking of her appa– Hyunjin– where is he?

You,nor Hyunjin, could exactly remember when your ‘fake’ relationship turned into you actually dating. Was it when the two of you were relaxing on the couch of your shared apartment, his arms around your shoulders and your head on his chest? “We have to make our relationship look real, honey love.” He would tell you.

Maybe

Was it when he made you heart shaped chocolate chip pancakes, for Valentine’s Day? “Happy Valentine’s Day, mumma,” he whispered in your ear. His soft yet calloused hands cradling your cheek, trying to wake you peacefully, where you laid in bed. “Morning, honey oat,” you sleepily grumbled. Your eyes slowly fluttering open to see a tray of breakfast— those exact heart shaped chocolate chip pancakes, strawberries cut into hearts, a glass of orange juice and a croissant— percheched on your bed, with Hyune sitting against the headrest. “Made you breakfast, for you and the baby.” He blushed, smiling down at your half awake form.

Perhaps

Was it when you were at your 20 week ultrasound, finding out that you would be having a baby girl and the nurse beamed at you, congratulating you with a “congratulations Mr and Mrs Hwang”

Mr and Mrs.Hwang

You couldn’t remember. Your lives bled into one another seamlessly, the line between real dating and your fake show relationship seeming to disappear. It was easy. Easy as breathing. Sure, ever since you had become friends with the tall boy, you had pictured and thought of dating him. Wondered how his pillow soft and ever so plush lips would feel against your own; how it would feel to be held against his chest as he sang you to sleep at night. The thoughts always lingered in your brain, somewhere in the back. But, you never would have imagined for him to suggest putting on a show relationship to quiet your family’s ever persistent questioning.

Sure, you had also seen Hyunjin interact with babies, over your times as friends. And did it make you wonder about what it would be like to have a child with him? Yes, you weren’t going to deny it. Again, you never would have guessed it to become a reality. But, it was your reality. You and Hyunjin… sharing an apartment, welcome home kisses, having a baby shower, him healing you through. Your pregnancy.

He was there through it all, every step, milestone, doctor’s appointment. He was there. He had even picked out her name, Iseul. “I like Iseul, love. It means dewdrop. Our own little dewdrop,” He muttered, his large hand rubbing against your bump, as you two were laying in bed, one night.

Her nursery theme was his idea, as well. Themes of soft powder blue and a crème color flourishing against the walls. Hyunjin picked out each piece of furniture, as long as you approved of it, assembled them and built the nursery, filling it with his love. One of his, and your, favorite things was the mural that Hyunjin has painted. It was a picture of the sky, clouds gracing the ceiling with rain falling down, but in the spaces between the raindrops, was her name…

Iseul

Grabbing Iseul’s shoes and snow suit(one of those full body padded baby onesies) you headed towards your and Hyunjin’s shared bedroom? “Where’s appa, Iseul? Hm, where did appa go?” You pondered, seeing as he wasn’t in your bedroom, and the master bathroom light was off.

Where could he have gone? You thought to yourself, as you made your way downstairs, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor. “Hyune? Hyunnie? Babe, where’d you go,are you ready?” You called out, entering the living room.

Then, you saw him– and damn, did he look good. His ebony hair was slicked back, a tailored Versace pair of slacks along his legs, a festive yet classy Versace crewneck on his torso, paired with a gold watch and shiny, black sleek dress shoes on his feet.

Damn, I’m lucky

He was preparing Iseul’s stroller, making sure a blanket was safely tucked in it, to make sure she was warm and had the baby bag sitting on the floor nearby. “Look, dew drop, there’s appa!” You smiled, as she giggled and kicked her feet in your hold.

“Oh! There my girls are! Hi my loves, don’t you two look so pretty?” Hyunjin smiled, turning around at your voice and seeing you standing there. Making his way over to you, he planted a kiss on your lips and Isuel’s forehead, before taking her into his arms. “My baby’s first Christmas! Are you excited, pumpkin!?” He smiled, as Iseul squished her small chubby hands on his cheeks, happy squeals and giggles leaving her mouth. “I think she is, huh dewdrop?” You smiled, adjusting her dress, before you adjusted the red bow in her hair.

Turning to you, Hyunjin smiled and kissed the crown of your head. “ I need to load the gifts and stroller into the car. Think you’ll be okay getting her ready while I do that, hon?” He asked, as you smiled with a nod. “I got it, babe. Go get everything settled,” you patted his butt lightly, taking Iseul back into your arms. With a nod of his head, Hyunjin put his long trench coat on, and grabbed the stroller and baby bag, slinging it over his stroller, “I’ll warm up the car, while I’m out there, honey!” He called, making his way into the cold night air, popping the trunk open and setting the stroller and baby bag inside.

Meanwhile, in the house, you had slid your own matching trench coat on and fastened its buttons, before setting Iseul on the couch, humming as you laid the opened baby snow suit on the cushions. “Let’s get my dew drop bundled up,” you cooed, gently booping her nose. Carefully, you laid her against the back portion of the jacket, settling her legs and arms in their respective sleeves. “One foot, and another foot and you’re all in!” You giggled, zipping up the zipper. Hyunjin had since reentered, to grab your load of presents, before leaning down to plant a kiss to yours and Iseul’s heads. “Look at my little dewdrop! You look so warm, did mommy dress you up?” He smiled as she kicked her feet, before he went to load the presents into the car.

Taking one of her shoes into your hands, you gently slid it on her foot, clasping the buckle shut. “One foot,” You smiled as she waved her arms around, looking up at you. “And one more foot,” you giggled, repeating the process with her other shoe. Picking her up, you grabbed your keys, phone and bag and made your way to the door. Turning the lights off, Hyunjin took Iseul to buckle her into her carseat. “Ready to go, my loves?”

The drive was about an hour and a half , to your parents’ house. Iseul had managed to fall asleep, and you couldn’t blame her, traffic causing a 30 minute delay. Cars bumping back to back, you had barely moved an inch. You weren’t shocked when you turned from your spot in the passenger seat, to see a sleeping Iseul on her car seat.

Driving during the holidays sucked.

But, you managed to make it, and once you pulled into the familiar driveway of your parents’ home, you smiled. Unbuckling your seat belt, you went to the trunk, grabbing the gift bags. You, carefully, made your way into the house, to be greeted by smiles and warm hugs. But, outside, Hyunjin was grabbing the stroller, setting a still sleeping baby Iseul in it, and the rest of the gifts.

“Hi,everyone! We’re here!”

Your parents rushed over to you, pulling you into their warm embrace. “Hi, love, so nice to see you! Where is that lovely boyfriend of yours?” Your mom asked, noticing Hyunjin wasn’t by your side. “He’s out bringing the rest of the gifts(and our baby) in,” You laughed, turning to hug your dad. “Hi sweetheart, how are you?” Your dad asked, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m good, how are you, dad?” You smiled, walking to the living room, after shrugging your jacket and shoes off, exchanging them for house slippers.

“Hi, yn!”

“Hey, where’s Hyunjin?!”

“Ynnie! So good to see you!”

Everyone called out their greetings and you smiled, giving them all a hug after you placed the presents under the, already full, tree. “He’s on his way in, we have a lot of presents to bring!” You laughed out.

You heard him before you saw him. Smiling, you could hear the wheels locking on the stroller as he was taking his jacket and shoes off. Any minute now and everyone would be in for a big surprise.

“Hello, hello! I’m here!”

And there he was. But, not only him, he came pushing the stroller in, Iseul still asleep, the soft blanket laid over her body. “And, we have a guest!”

“Is that a-”

“A stroller….a baby?!”

“When did you two have a baby?!”

“A grandbaby, oh my gosh!”

Needless to say, everyone was surprised, shocked, taken aback, confused. You laughed, as Hyunjin took Iseul out of her stroller and sat next to you. “Yep, a baby. Baby Iseul,” you smiled, seeing her stir awake. Gently, you tucked the soft fleece blanket around her body, ensuring her pacifier was shut in her mouth. But, they could also see a ring on your finger.

“What-“

“When?!”

“How old is she?!”

“What’s her name?!”

“Is that a ring?!”

Laughing, you looked over at Hyunjin, seeing him rocking Iseul in his arms. “Wow, lots of questions. But! I have answers!” You giggled, settling yourself against Hyunjin’s side, as he placed a kiss on your temple. “So, to start, her name is Iseul and she’s 5 months old. Uh, we found out we were having her after last Christmas,” You breathed out, as Hyunjin nodded. Clearing his throat, he looked toward you. “We weren’t expecting or planning on having her. She was like our own Christmas present, he laughed, “but, we really love being parents.”

“Why haven’t we met or seen her yet?” Your mom asked, curious as to what took you and Hyunjin so long to bring your baby around. Nodding your head, you smiled as Iseul was slowly stirring from her sleep. “Honestly, we just wanted to bask in having her to herself, for a while, before we brought her around everyone. Becoming parents was a change, a big one, so we wanted to soak it i, have our own memories built and just get to love on her.” You breathed out, hearing a soft whimper coming from Iseul. Hyunjin smiled and nodded, “there is absolutely no ill intentions. We just wanted to be able to soak in the new parenthood love and enjoy her to ourselves.” You both smiled, before Isuel’s whimpers turned into cries, she was hungry. “Excuse me, I think we have a hungry baby on our hands,”Hyunjin smiled, rising from his seat on the couch to grab a premade bottle from the baby bag and go to the kitchen to warm it.

It was true and you and Hyunjin loved the 5 months you had Iseul to yourselves. From the moment she was born, she had her appa wrapped around her finger. Iseul was born early in the morning,2:23 to be exact. You remember Hyunjin crying, as she was placed on your chest, her head covered in soft black hair. She has his lips, and nose but your eyes. She was—and still is— his greatest accomplishment.

Month 1 brought a lot of changes. A new sleep —if you can even call it that— schedule for you and Hyunjin, lots of waking up at the break of dawn for nightly feeds, lots of diapers and dirty clothes. But, also lots of smiles, smiles shared with each other and smiles shared with Iseul. Lots of baby giggles, gummy smiles and big brown eyes.

With each month, your hearts only grew, watching as her personality developed. She was a daddy’s girl, through and through. Loving to be held and sang to by Hyunjin. He loved to hold her small body to his bare chest. Looking up at him, her big brown eyes blinking, easily growing tired throughout the day. “It must be tiring being so cute,” he cooed to her, kissing her small forehead. Hyunjin had fallen asleep in the rocking chair by the crib many times. “Want to make sure she’s okay, honey love,” he’d tell you, a tired yawn falling from his lips. She was, and always will be safe, but he needed to be sure. But, luckily Iseul always slept through the night, easily.

By month 5, Iseul learned to hold a crayon. Thanks to Hyunjin. You would come home to see them in the kitchen seated at the dining table, coloring. But, your favorite sights were seeing them cuddling. It warmed your heart. You also loved watching Hyunjin feed her. It was such a mundane task, but it was the cutest thing to see. Iseul would be seated in her high chair, Hyunjin sat in front of her, and he’d swirl the spoon in front of her. “Here comes the plane,” he would say with a sing-songy lilt in his voice. Her small pouty lips would enclose the spoon and her face would scrunch up, mimicking the way Hyunjin’s own face would pout when he ate. “She definitely is your daughter, honey bear.” You would giggle out, as he used the spoon to wipe the baby food from around her mouth.

Returning from the kitchen, Hyunjin sat on the couch, a warm bottle of breastmilk nustled between Iseul’s mouth, as she fed. “I’m back, and she is less fussy,” he chuckled, knowing a full tummy would calm her down. It was true. Iseul only became fussy when hungry or tired.But, the drive from your apartment to your parents’s house had her well rested. Your cousin had peeped up. “So, there’s a ring on yn’s finger. When did that happen?” She smiled, pointing to the delicate stoned balanced between prongs and snugly set on a delicate band. “Oh that?” Hyunjin laughed, carefully handing you a now empty bottle, before softly patting Iseul’s back. “It’s a promise ring, a promise to never give up on yn or Iseul, and to always be here, no matter how hard it gets…..It’s also a promise to make her my wife,one day. Almost like a placeholder ring until then.” He smiled, as you carefully took Iseul into your arms.

Cradling her to your chest, you and Hyunjin exchanged soft eyes and loving smiles. “Well, we’re really happy for the both of you.” Your dad chimed in, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder. “Thank you. We’re really happy,too.” Hyunjin smiled, his eyes watching as you rocked your baby in your arms, looking down to her with matching eyes. The world around you,Hyunjin and Iseul, seemed to disappear. It was only the three of you. Looking back up , you saw Hyunjin watching you. Smiling, you gently blew him a kiss. Which he gladly caught and pressed to his heart, before sending two— one for you and one for the baby— your way.

“Time to eat! Dinner is ready!”

Maybe, family Christmas dinners weren’t so bad after all. But maybe that's because you had Hyunjin and Iseul. Or, maybe because you wouldn’t be questioned anymore. Standing up, you hold Iseul in your arms, walking to the dining room, Hyunjin following you.

Dinner time

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