#so my goal is to be hot my the middle of next year at the soonest and the end of next year at the latest

[stairset]

I'm quitting my job soon and getting an actual full time job that actually pays well which is good cause my habit of impulse buying expensive things is returning

[themultifanshipper]

if you're still accepting requests can ask for 🟠 with oscar please and thank you 😽

Oscar was not happy. He'd finished p1, and yet you could hear him in his driver's room, cursing and throwing things around like an animal.

Oh yeah, Oscar was fucking pissed.

Warnings: filth, dirty talk, based on hungary 2024, is it exhibitionism if the goal is to make people hear you?, squirting, Oscar's a bit of a freak in this ngl, bordering on dubious consent, very minimal prep, overstimulation?

Requested from my prompt list

Technically his race had gone perfectly, he drove great, managed his tyres, took the lead and he'd had his first Grand Prix victory in formula one. He should be happy.

But just like his first sprint victory, it had been completely overshadowed, and this time it was by the absolute mess that was the Mclaren strategy calls.

By the fuckass team that made the call to pit his twat of a teammate first.

It was supposed to be smooth sailing, instead his teammate had to fucking let him pass for him to win.

That's not racing, that's fucking… it's…

Whatever it is it's fucked. It's fucked and it's wrong and it made Oscar's win feel undeserved. And the final insult came in the form of Lando himself.

Sweet summer child, Mclaren's princess, doe eyed baby boy Lando.

He was only a prick about 1% of the time, but today he was really making up for the the other 99% with gusto.

While Oscar was smashing up his driver's room, Lando was in his own, next door, adding insult to injury by playing his music just loud enough for Oscar to hear, but he'd selected a playlist that he knew Oscar hated.

Because Lando was also bitter. So it was really just petty bickering, but with noise instead of words. Everytime Oscar threw something against the wall, or screamed in anger, Lando would turn it up a notch.

You, the team photographer, and Oscar's fuckbuddy turned unofficial girlfriend, decided to intervene before either of them decided to start costing the team serious money in property damage, or actually start brawling. It had happened only once in the two years they'd been teammates, but it was not pretty, and definitely something you'd like to avoid.

So you knocked on Oscar's door.

“No!” he yelled from inside.

“It's just me, Osc! I'm coming in!” you answered, opening the door carefully before stepping in.

The sight before you was hot pitiful.

Stuff was everywhere. Several things including his phone and a bottle of water, were smashed next to the wall separating the two drivers.

His helmet was on the other side of the room, his massage table was upside-down and the sofa cushions had been thoroughly roughed-up and strewn around the room.

And in the middle of all this was Oscar, still in his race suit, red faced and panting hard, sweat soaked hair plastered on his forehead.

The way he looked at you almost made your knees buckle. You'd barely ever seen him so angry.

He'd managed to keep his carefully composed image together after the race and during the interviews, but now, now he was letting it all out.

As you walked in his features softened ever so slightly and he rushed towards you, enveloping you in a tight hug. So tight you could barely breathe.

Neither of you said anything, bodies entertwined, just gently rocking to whatever shit-stirring music the prick next door had selected.

God, he wanted to punch him so bad.

He would have to find another way to let out his pent up aggression.

He made noise low in his throat before his hands started trailing downwards. Down to cup your ass and squeeze, hard.

You squeaked and jumped in his hold but he held firm, keeping you pressed against him.

He was breathing hard against your neck and you almost felt like he was about to eat you alive.

“Oscar?” you tried, no response.

He roughly turned you around and pushed you down onto the only thing he'd left intact, the desk.

The conveniently empty desk, which was against the same wall that the music was coming from.

The force with which he pushed you made you stumble, and you just about caught yourself before you almost got a concussion.

“Oscar, what-” you started to say, but the sound of him quickly unzipping his suit and his hand coming to push you down cut you off.

“Baby I love you, but right now I just need you to bend over and take it.”

You whole body shuddered at his tone, and he chuckled darkly.

“I knew you would like this, my little slut is up for anything.”

He very rarely talked to you like that, or got into this kind of mood, but when he did you turned into mush.

You enjoyed careful, loving, passionate Oscar as much as the next person. But this Oscar… this one was a real treat.

The hand between your shoulder blades pinned you down while the other one pushed your cute little skirt up and pushed your underwear to the side.

Two fingers breached you and you moaned loud, hopefully covered by Lando's music.

“God you're so wet. I think i'll just slide in.” Oscar pumped his fingers a few times before going to push his fireproofs down around his thighs, freeing his cock that had been at least half hard ever since he'd crossed the finish line.

“I'm going to need you to be louder than that if we want Lando to hear how good I'm treating my girlfriend” he muttered darkly into your ear.

You gasped and didn't even have time to protest before you heard him spit in his hand and cover his cock, carefully putting it against you and pushing in, just over half way.

It's a good thing you were lying down on the desk, because your legs went completely numb as the feeling of his thick cock stretched you open.

“Fuck, that's good. You're my good girl aren't you? Gonna take all of my cock like I know you can?”

You couldn't answer, but he adjusted his position and thrusted in all the way in, and the noise you let out definitely wasn't covered by Lando's music.

You'd be surprised if the whole building hadn't heard you, and you would be worried about it if it weren't for the amazing dick you were currently getting.

You literally couldn't shut your mouth. Your jaw was wide open and Oscar didn't hesitate to stick two of his fingers in there to ensure you couldn't hide your moans.

The loudest moans you'd ever produced came spilling out at every thrust, and Oscar couldn't help but feel proud of the pleasure he was managing to give you while being so selfish.

Because he wasn't doing this for you, he was doing this for himself, for his pride, to let out his frustration and anger, and mostly to piss off Lando.

You were unable to move, the pressure on your back was pushing you roughly against the desk, you could barely breathe, every thrust sent your hipbones knocking into the edge of the desk, your cervix was taking a beating, and your nails were splitting because of how hard you were scratching the surface under you.

It was fucking perfect.

As the desk rocked, the edge of it hit the wall repeatedly and you were sure Oscar had placed it there on purpose. Just to make a point to Lando, that Oscar had someone there for him. Someone he could count on who loved him. Someone he could use.

And use you he did. You were floating, brain like tv static as Oscar gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and pounded into you harder than he ever had before.

You felt so high on pleasure that your orgasm came and went almost unnoticed by you, but Oscar definitely noticed.

He quickly pulled out, ripped your now ruined underwear off, and turned you over on the desk.

“Fuck, look at you. Completely drunk on my cock.”

He slid back inside and started thrusting straight into your g-spot with renewed vigour.

“Fuck baby you're so good for me. My good girl, all for me.”

If you hadn't been completely out of it, you'd have noticed how Oscar was speaking unnaturally loudly, and throwing angry glances at the wall every now and then. Again, this wasn't for your benefit.

“You can give me another one can't you? Come on baby, come all over the cock that's making you feel so good”

He was nailing your sweet spot dead on every time and a hand had joined the party to thumb lazily at your clit, lighting your whole body on fire.

This one you definitely felt coming, it was building deep inside you, making your toes curl and your breaths come out in high pitched whines, and you registered a new wetness between your thighs.

“ Perfect girl, Perfect fucking cunt.”

Oscar was over the moon, he was making you squirt all over him, the desk and the carpet.

“Yes baby, fuck- good girl. Fucking soak me baby that's it.”

He only lasted a couple of thrust before the image of you limp in his arms, eyes rolled back and thighs clamping around him trying to stop his assault on your overstimulated pussy, overwhelmed him and he came with a shout.

His hips stilled as he felt like his soul had been sucked out via his dick.

It took you a few minutes to regain control of your limbs. Oscar had fucked all the energy straight out of you.

You noticed the music next door had stopped completely. And then the realisation of what just happened set in.

Oscar had just fucked your brains out, and everyone, including Lando had probably heard you.

It got Lando and Oscar to stop fighting, and to you surprise you never got repremanded for inappropriate workplace behaviour.

But to no one's surprise, Lando never put his music on higher than 50% volume ever again

[no-144444]

photograph- c.leclerc

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or, 5 moments in y/n and charles's life that made the internet go crazy :)

charles leclerc x norris! reader

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AC incident 

You walked into Charles’s room, a drink in hand. God, you forgot how hot Monaco was, even this late in the year. When you’d packed to come visit your boyfriend, you’d thought about the cold and miserable weather back home, not the hot, sweaty, humid, and sunny weather of Monaco. That’s how you ended up in a pair of Charles’s shorts, and just your bra.

“Baby?” He called you. 

“Hm?” You nodded, not looking up from your phone as you lay on his bed. You knew he liked gaming, especially when it wasn’t much about racing, and you didn’t want to disturb him. But his room was the only one with working AC, and you were about to die in the kitchen’s heat. 

When you didn’t get an answer you looked up to see his eyes firmly glued to you, rather than the fifa game he’d just lost. You could hear all his friends shouting at him for missing a goal and costing their team the win. 

“What?” You chuckled, getting up and walking over to him. 

“You look so beautiful, my love,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek when you bent down beside him, laughing at the comments in his ears about him being down-bad. “So pretty.”

“Thanks baby,” you smiled, casting your eyes to the chat, which was all about you and Charles, either complimenting how good you looked, or how cute you were together. 

Landosnandos21: y/n is looking good. DAMN. 

y/n’sversion: Monaco weather is a blessing if we get to see mother like this. 

Charlesleclerc’stoes: alexa play ‘that should be me’ by justin bieber. (I’m taking about charles his woman is FINE.)

y/n’shairfolical: marriage when? children with perfect genetics when?

Pastryboy81: if he’s not this obsessed with me, i don’t want it. 

You laughed at the chat as Charles let his hands wander down your back to your ass, then further to your thighs. 

“Hey!” You heard Lando’s voice through his headphones. “Get your hands off my sister! Stop being weird on stream!” 

You laughed as Charles dropped his hands from you like you were on fire. “Lando, shut up,” you held your middle finger up to the camera, hoping he’d see it as Charles laughed with you. 

“I’m just going to turn the AC on, ok?” You turned to Charles, who stared for a second, then nodded like a puppy. “Thanks,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips, then going back over to the bed and turning the AC on. 

His gaming continued for another 20 minutes before he shut off the game and came over to you. “Hello baby,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your neck as he lay beside you. You kissed back as his hands wrapped around you, pulling you closer. Though his body was warm, you didn’t really mind. “Can we-?” he smiled bashfully and you chuckled.

“Is the stream off?” You asked, knowing his challenges with technology.

“Maybe? I do not know,” he chuckled. “I don’t really care.”

You chuckled, but got up anyway, actually turning off the stream. “Bye guys!” Only a bit embarrassed. 

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Bahrain 

Charles had been training and preparing since the moment he’d gotten up that morning, aka, he hadn’t seen you. There he sat, in his freezing ice bath, when he caught a glimpse of what he thought to be you, cycling with Carlos. He gave a sneaky look to the camera that was on him, then; one second he was there, his trainer looked away, and the next second, he was gone. Shot off like a rocket in your direction. You and Carlos had to jump off your bikes and almost fall over to get out of his way, and even then he chased you all around the paddock, trying to get a hug. 

“Charles! You’re soaking wet!” You laughed as you felt the eyes of the entire team on you two. 

“Come on mi amor! I have not seen you all day! I never race my best without seeing you!” He pleaded, still chasing after you. 

Your laughing stopped when Carlos grabbed you by the shoulders to stop you from running away, helping Charles’s plan. He held you to his chest as Charles celebrated and thanked him, and as the team videoed. 

Finally, Charles made his way over to you and smirked. “A hug, my love?”

And you had no choice. You were passed from Carlos’s arms to Charles’s and hit with the freezing water that coated his swim shorts and his body. “Fuck Charles!” You squealed. “You’re freezing!” 

He just laughed and pressed your head further into his neck, pressing kisses to the top of your head as the paddock became a chorus of ‘awws’ and ‘oooos’. 

“I’m getting you back for this,” you gritted, low enough so only he could hear it.

He smiled wider. “I know you will.”

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Streaming goes wrong

Charles was doing another stream with the f1 boys, you knew that. Charles liked to get very focused on what he was doing, you knew that. But Charles had also promised to come pick you up from the airport, and after 30 minutes of waiting for Arthur to find his baggage (birthday surprise for Charles), then 40 minutes of waiting for Charles, nothing. Not even a phone call or a text. You were exhausted, Vancouver to Monaco was an 11 hour flight, and you hadn’t slept a wink thanks to the guy in front of you, who’s snores could’ve started an avalanche if they were given the chance. 

You opened twitch and pressed on Charles’s stream, to find him busy racing with the other boys. You sighed and decided to just get a cab instead, not wanting to bother him. He could be very forgetful, and you knew that. 

After a 32 minute drive, walking up the stairs with your suitcase since the elevator was out of order, and coming inside, you dropped your suitcase by the door, and went straight to your neighbours apartment to get Charles’s other birthday present even if you weren’t going to try and talk to Charles right now, not when you were that angry. 

Charless16900: wasn’t y/n coming home today? Did you pick her up?

Charles glanced at the chat to see the message and his face fell. He was meant to pick you up- he looked at his watch- more than an hour ago. He checked his phone to find the messages you’d left and he sighed. 

“I am in big trouble,” he told the group, a sorrowful look in his eyes.

George chuckled. “What? Why? What did you do?”

“I forgot to pick up Y/n from the airport!” He groaned. “She got a taxi instead.”

“Oh, so that was the noise from earlier, your door opening,” Alex added. 

“What?!” Charles squeaked. “She is home already?”

“I think so mate,” Max laughed. “Good luck.”

Charles got up from his chair for a few minutes to go and talk to you. “Baby?” He called out to the apartment. “I’m sorry?”

And then a pillow was flung at his face. “You dick!” Arthur shouted. “You forgot us at the airport!”

Charles stared at his little brother, completely confused. “What are you doing here?” He chuckled, throwing the pillow back. 

“I am here for your birthday surprise!” Arthur explained, throwing the pillow back at him. “You know, the one Y/n set up?”

Charles shook his head, even more confused. 

“Thanks Arthur, congratulations, you ruined the surprise,” you walked in with a small dachshund in your arms. “Well, here's the other part of the surprise.”

Charles stared at you. “You got me a dog?” He smiled, taking the dachshund from your arms.

“I got us a dog,” you corrected him. “Happy birthday-eve,” you smiled. “Also fuck you for not picking me up from the airport.”

“Yeah, exactly!” Arthur cheered, annoying Charles. “You could’ve seen me way faster- ew! Stop it!”

Arthur started complaining because Charles had started kissing you. You chuckled into the kiss as one of his arms wrapped around your waist and the other held your new dog. Your arms wrapped around his neck as Arthur threw a pillow at the both of you, causing Charles to pull away and start chasing him around the apartment. 

You chuckled to yourself and picked up the pillow, fixing up your bed. Maybe you could forgive Charles for his mistake. Then you looked at his gaming set-up and saw that everything was still on and that he was still streaming. 

“Charles!” you scolded, going over and ending the stream with a wave. “Turn off the stream before you run off!”

“Sorry, my love!” He called back. 

“And Arthur!” you shouted. “Stop chasing your brother around my house, you’re going to break something!”

“Sorry!” He called back. 

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Qualifier

You watched with bated breath as the qualifier for the Monaco GP dragged on. It was the last lap, Oscar right on his tail, and…

He did it. He crossed the finish line first. Ahead of Max, ahead of Oscar, ahead of everyone. 

The entire paddock was alive with cheering. Every person pulled someone closer in with hugs and cheers, and it was all thanks to Charles. Arthur and you were jumping up and down, ecstatic that he’d won. As soon as you two could, you ran to the lineup and watched as he jumped out of the car, running straight towards you. He pulled off his helmet, handing it off to someone, then he scooped you up in his arms, a bright smile on his face as he kissed you. The small camera crew and the number of fans around clapped and cheered as cameras flashed and pictures were taken. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you smiled. “My winner.”

“Your winner, always. And soon, your husband." 

Thank god neither of you were wearing microphones. 

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Interview goes south

“Does being Charles Leclerc make you fuck more?”

Charles tried to stifle the shit-eating grin on his face when he looked up and found you with your head in your hands, shaking your head and laughing as the second-hand embarrassment hit you like a freight train.

He chuckled. “I am very lucky, I am very in love and my beautiful girlfriend loves me too,” he smirked. “But the answer is definitely yes,” he laughed as the other interviews burst into uncontrollable laughter. Obviously he was making a joke (no he wasn’t, you two went at it like bunny rabbits), but it was awfully embarrassing for you both. Charles beckoned you over and you obliged, only to set the record straight. 

“He’s joking about that,” you clarified. “And don’t be so sure on how much your girlfriend loves you after that answer,” You scolded. Charles laughed, holding you closer and pressing ‘apology’ kisses to any piece of you he could reach. The video ended with Charles chasing you around the paddock as you ducked past people to evaded his capture.

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navigation for my blog :)

[theemporium]

[1.9k] sometimes it isn't easy being the fourth hughes' sibling. sometimes the pressure to compete with your brothers gets overwhelming. sometimes you just need a tall, hot swiss man to reassure you in the hidden crevices of a bar in jersey.

first nico fic completely influenced by @httplando

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There was nobody in the world that was prouder of your brothers than you were. 

It took an insane amount of skill, talent and effort to even reach college level. To be scouted and sought after, to gain the attention of coaches in much higher leagues than the kids’ team in middle school. To play for a college, to gain the attraction of professional teams, to be drafted into the NHL. It was fucking insane for one brother to reach all those goals, let alone all three. 

But that was exactly what Quinn, Jack and Luke had done. 

All three of them shared a dream and all three of them have achieved it. And you genuinely could not be happier for them. You saw everything behind the scenes. You saw the work they put into it, the countless hours of training and practicing to hone that raw talent into pure skill. You know exactly what each of them sacrificed to achieve their goal of playing for the NHL. 

And yet, despite how genuinely happy and proud you were, it fucking sucked to be their sister because everything you did felt inadequate in comparison. 

Nobody in your family ever consciously went out of their way to make you feel that way. Never in a million fucking years would they ever pull something like that. But it didn’t mean that you didn’t have these feelings, that you didn’t feel that pit of bitterness and something equally as ugly and self-deprecating burning inside you whenever your parents would gush over your brothers. 

“My boys,” Ellen cooed, reaching to place her hand on Quinn’s cheek, considering he was the closest to her. “You all played so well.”

Quinn let out a small scoff. “Yeah right.”

“Hey, just because you didn’t win, doesn’t mean you didn’t play well,” Jim had retorted with a light nudge of his shoulder. 

“Couldn’t beat us this time, captain,” Jack commented, a wolfish grin on his face as he gave his older brother a mock salute that made Luke snort. 

Quinn’s eyes narrowed, but there was a smile on his face. “Next time I’ll get your asses.” 

Luke grinned. “Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Regardless of who won,” Ellen spoke up, a reprimanding look on her face that managed to shut the three of them up in seconds. “I’m proud of all three of my boys, living their dream and being the damn best in the league.” 

“To the Hughes boys!” Jim jokingly toasted, lifting his glass in the air and the rest of you joined and clinked your drinks together. 

And you know. God, you fucking know that none of it was a personal jab towards you in any way, shape or form. But it was hard to fucking deny the sting you felt as your parents gushed over your brothers. It hurt when you realised there wasn’t really much to gush over when it came to you.

You had made up some shitty excuse about needing to pee when you felt the tightness in your chest. You hadn’t given any of them a chance to be concerned about your abrupt departure. You didn’t even utter a single word as you pushed your way through the crowd of the bar, the establishment heaving with members and fans from both teams. You didn’t even glance at the girl who swore at you when you barged your shoulder against her a little harsher than intended as you pushed past the toilets and into a small alcove instead.

All you could focus on was the band wrapped around your chest, getting tighter and tighter with each breath. All you could focus on was the way your lash line welled with tears that would ultimately make your mascara run. All you could focus on was the thoughts rushing through your head, far too fast for you to even fully keep up. 

All you could focus on was the fact you really weren’t okay. 

You didn’t even look up when you heard a door swing open from one of the bathrooms. You didn’t look up when you heard footsteps. You didn’t look up—or even realise—there was someone standing a few metres away until you heard a familiar voice. 

“Hey, are you okay there?”

And despite the whirling thoughts and panicked breaths, you knew exactly who that voice belonged to. And when you finally lifted your head, the shield of hair finally exposing you to the person, you could see the exact moment Nico Hischier realised it was you. 

And it took a few seconds to realise just what a state you were in. 

You felt your cheeks prickle in embarrassment. You could feel the way your entire face heated up and your stomach dropped a little at the fact Nico of all people—your brothers’ captain and the man you thought about in ways that you never should—was seeing you like this. 

“Woah, hey,” he muttered out, a frown curved onto his lips as he quickly closed the distance between you two. 

And he was overwhelming. So fucking overwhelming in a way that had your head spinning for so many different reasons. It should have felt suffocating when he squished into the small alcove of the hallway with you, especially someone of his height and build.

But it wasn’t. 

It was almost comforting, or maybe that was just how Nico was. You had seen it plenty of times with his teammates, the way he wrapped his arm around them the second they were targeted on the ice or being chirped at by the rivalling team. You watched the way he would calm them down, hold his ground, keep everything in control. 

Maybe that’s what made him such a good captain. 

“I-I’m sorry,” you managed to blubber out, a sad excuse for a laugh escaping your lips as you tried to pretend your lungs weren’t burning for some air. “I’m okay!”

But he didn’t look convinced. 

“Is this okay?” His voice was soothing, calming almost. 

You blinked, taking a few seconds to realise he had lifted his hands from his sides and another few seconds to realise what he was asking before you dumbly nodded your head. 

You blinked again, and Nico’s hands were cupping—almost engulfing—your face as his thumbs softly swiped away the tears falling down your cheeks. You watched the way his eyebrows furrowed together in concern, his cheeks flushed from whatever he had been drinking to celebrate the Devils’ win. 

“Did something happen?” He asked, so gentle in the way he spoke like he didn’t want to spook you. 

“Just…thinking,” you replied with a weak smile, your breathing still a little erratic and uncertain—and he seemed to notice.

“Breathe with me,” he murmured, taking in a deep breath and giving you a pointed look until you followed his lead. “Just like that, schatz, that’s it.”

Your eyes never left his as you copied his movements, as you took deep breaths until the band around your chest seemed to ease and the burn in your lungs was long gone. Your eyes never left him as his eyes wandered over you, almost like he was double checking you were in fact okay and not physically hurt in any way, shape or form.

“It hurts,” you whispered, catching the boy’s attention as his eyes snapped up to look at you. “It hurts when I realise I can’t really compete with my brothers. Quinn is a captain, Jack is one of the best players in the league, Luke is killing his rookie season and here I am, not even sure what I want to major in and I—”

“Hey, hey,” Nico quickly interrupted when he realised your breathing was starting to pick up again. His thumbs continued to run soothing circles over the apples of your cheek, though the frown on his face remained. “You don’t have to compete with them.”

“I know but,” you paused for a moment, and he waited as you tried to gather the words. “They are them. They are the professional hockey players. They’ve known what they wanted to be since they were practically born and I don’t even know what I want to do with my life.”

“And that’s okay,” Nico assured you, and it felt a little ironic coming from another professional hockey player.

You shook your head, letting out another laugh. “And I don’t even know why I am telling you any of this because you probably want to go and celebrate your win. I mean, you do not need to be standing here and listening to my stupid problems—”

“I don’t mind,” Nico said, a soft smile on his lips. “And they aren’t stupid. Your feelings are never stupid, schatz.” 

He was your brothers’ teammate. Forget that, he was literally Jack and Luke’s captain. You had known him for as long as Jack was a part of the team. You had known him as long as he had been friends with your brothers. And yet despite in that time, you could count on one hand the amount of interactions you’ve had with the boy by yourself. 

And yet, here he was, standing in front of you with his hands holding your face and a smile that made your chest feel tight all over again. He was looking at you like your feelings were valid, like he understood. He was looking at you in a way that so many people never could. In that moment, you didn’t feel like the fourth Hughes’ sibling—you just felt like you.

But before you could even let the voice in the back of your head urging you to let the overwhelming emotions take over, the sound of your brothers’ voices snapped you out of whatever daze you were in.

“God, how long does it take for her to pee?” Jack. 

“I don’t know, she’s a girl. Maybe it takes them longer.” Luke.

“You both are so fucking stupid.” Quinn.

“I should go,” you whispered to Nico, and something in your stomach clenched as though you were about to be caught doing something scandalous. A part of you wished that was the case. “I’m sorry you had to—”

But Nico shook his head, his smile a comfort as he took a step back. “Don’t apologise.”

“Right,” you murmured as you gave him a shaky smile. “I’ll…see you later?”

He huffed out a laugh. “I’ll see you later, schatz.” 

You had quickly stepped out of the alcove before you could embarrass yourself further, finding yourself face to face with your three brothers who were busier bickering than realising you hadn’t even exited the bathroom.

You felt like your body was on autopilot for the rest of the night, but your eyes kept wandering in hopes of finding a certain someone. In hopes that you could see him with your own two eyes and confirm that the feel of his hands on your skin was, in fact, real. In hopes that maybe he was seeking you out too. 

And something in your stomach twisted in delight when your eyes met his across the bar, a grin on his lips that felt more easy-going and teasing than the soft smiles he had given you earlier. And some part of you knew that even if your interactions with the captain had been limited beforehand, something in the air shifted the second he placed his hands on you.

Because you had an inkling feeling that tonight wouldn’t be the last time you found yourself hidden in a secret place with the Swiss man, and something quite like hope sparked inside you that maybe the years of secretly crushing on your brother’s teammate was going to turn into something more.

.

[milunalupin]

Hiiii congrats on the 100 followers 🍾 can I request a hockey player!James x reader in an already established relationship? Where jamie sees reader wearing one of his jerseys as a good luck charm (love-induced placebo effect) and one day, reader comes into a match WITHOUT the jersey?? The rest of how shenanigans is up to u thanks!

ty so so much for requesting, i hope this is hockey-y enough lol <3

— lucky charm

hockey player!james potter x reader ★ 860 words

a/n - i don't know anything about hockey so please bare with me

James was running around the flat like a madman, muttering something about cross checking and knee pads. He pushed past you a little too hard, retracing his steps to mumble a 'sorry' as he kisses your temple. Today's hockey game was very important, according to your boyfriend. As captain of the Gryffindors, he would not allow his team to lose their biggest rivals, the Slytherins. Your nose scrunched is disgust as you watched him pack his dirty lucky socks, walking to the kitchen to grab something to eat during the game.

As he was zipping up his game bag, you walked back over with a few snacks and his water bottle. He smiled fondly at you while accepting the bags of pretzels and baby carrots.

"I'll see you soon love," he wraps you in a tight hug, pulling away from you to look down at you sternly. "Don't forget to wear my jersey please."

Your eyes widened, and let out a sound of disbelief. "It was one time Jamie, three years ago!"

"I know but love of my life, apple of my eye, we really need to win this game." he whined, lightly shaking you by your shoulders.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you pushed him towards the door, reassuring him that you wouldn't forget. James pressed a few more kisses to your cheeks before clambering out the door with his duffel bag hung over his shoulder.

James had met you at a post-win celebration at a local bar, trying to impress you with all his hockey talk. Having had a few shots and nursing a cocktail, your tipsy self just nodded and smiled pretending to understand what the muscular cutie was talking about. When you met up again sober you admitted to not knowing anything about hockey, which didn't seem to be too much of a problem as he had asked you to be his just a few weeks later. Although you still didn't fully understand the sport, you still showed up to every game as James' biggest fan.

Back in the kitchen, you finished washing last night's dishes and made some hot chocolate for yourself to take to the game, filling a tumbler and not bothering to fully twist the cap on as you were now running a few minutes behind schedule. Scrambling to slip your shoes on by the door, of course you tripped over James's converse as you always do, only this time you're hot chocolate spills all over your white 'Potter' jersey.

You squeeze your eyes shut and groan. "Oh, he's gonna murder me."

You found your seat just in time for the faceoff, shivering from the cold metal of the arena benches. Maroon and emerald players danced around the ice, getting into their formations for the first round. James was in the middle as the team's center, waiting for the puck to drop. As soon as it did James took control, then passing it to his teammate. You watched as it flew from player to player, the sounds on skates on ice and the opinionated crowd bringing a smile to your face. Gryffindors fans started to stand when James was near the Slytherin's goal with the puck, then boo-ing the green team when the puck was stolen from him. The game was going by smoothly, you snacking on some pretzels as the two teams kept switching off on who had control of the puck.

You stood up and screamed with excitement as James scored, waving your arms around. His head whipped over to your usual section to find you, his bright grin faltering as he noticed your appearance. He let his eyes linger on your plain maroon sweater a few moments more before scoffing lightly and skating back to his position for the next period. The next few rounds were played a dirtier, with the Slytherin players checking the Gryffindors into the tempered glass and tripping them onto the ice.

The game ended with the Gryffindors winning 7-5, maroon-clad fans throwing up popcorn and cheering in celebration. You followed the crowd out, making your way towards the locker rooms, finding a spot against the wall to wait for James.

You watched as he walked out without paying you any attention. Frowning, you jogged to catch up to him. "Jamie, hey- James!"

He turned around with the biggest pout you'd ever seem from anyone, mumbling so softly you almost didn't hear him. "You're not wearing my jersey."

"I spilled hot chocolate on it so I had to change, I'm sorry my love." you stepped forward, taking his hands in yours. "But hey, you still won the game and you played amazingly, so maybe it wasn't so lucky after all."

"Well the jersey was for extra luck, my main lucky charm is you, so thank you for being here." he sighed and pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head.

"You're welcome, although you don't really need luck because you're so talented, James." You chuckled, feeling him squeeze you a little tighter as he nodded.

"But I was worried about today's game for a second so can you please wear the jersey next game?"

[honeytonedhottie]

trusting and betting on urself⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🫧

keep promises that u make to urself : just like how if u know someone who continuously makes promises to do something, yet they never act upon it, you won't trust that person or believe them if they promise u something else. this is also the same with urself. ur new years resolutions? ur goals that you've had for a while but never ever did? all those promises that you've made to yourself and the ones that you haven't followed up on will lessen trust with urself. do what u say you'll do. "stand on business" and if u know that u won't be able to deliver or do what u say you would, dont say it. dont tell urself promises that u won't be able to keep. once u start keeping ur own promises, you'll start to build trust within urself.

hold yourself accountable : just a quick disclaimer but when i say holding urself accountable i do NOT mean punishing urself!! when u find urself falling into old and fruitless patterns you need to hold urself accountable and make sure that u straighten up. the thing about our relationship with self is that a relationship needs BOUNDARIES. you need to set boundaries with urself. what will u or what will u not do? ur non-negotiables?

and when u find urself crossing boundaries within yourself take the BIGGEST step back. the key to forming a healthy relationship with urself is to balance being strict and gentle with urself. strict in the sense that ur the only one that can get u to where u wanna be, and gentle in the sense that ur best won't look the same every single day and u should also listen to urself and what u want, without having to compromise on ur boundaries. kind of finding that middle line is important, bcuz when we're too lenient with ourselves, we get too comfortable and that leads me into my next point...

where growth begins : u cannot expect to grow if ur too comfortable and honestly, this is why most people stay stagnant. its bcuz being comfortable FEELS GOOD. but growth will almost never happen when ur comfortable, on the contrary growth can only happen outside of ur comfort zone. if u want better things for urself, ur simply gonna have to DO BETTER.

the importance of ur self concept : even if ur not familiar with or u dont practice conscious manifesting/law of assumption, i think that working on ur self concept can still be such a fruitful thing to do. i say this because self concept is the way that u view urself in relation to ur desires/goals. its seeing urself as worthy and powerful, and truly grasping ur potential to do great things. a way to start with ur self concept is with affirmations! start telling urself about urself in a positive connotation. you're unstoppable <3

putting it into practice : start small, challenge urself a little bit every day. do one hard thing a day, doing so will build ur confidence bcuz u won't be so daunted by ur big goals when you've already done so many hard things. when u see something challenging instead of thinking "oh i can't do this" you'll have confidence in urself and what u are capable of. oftentimes when we have goals, we kick ourselves out of rooms before we've even tried to get in them bcuz we think "im not good enough" or "im not worthy" which isnt true at ALL. dont shoot urself in the foot. thats self sabotage. and thats not hot.

motivating urself : if u remind urself of your "why" then you'll have reason to stay consistent and truly try. i recommend asking urself the tougher questions, like "what do i want out of my life?" or "am i truly happy and if not what can i do to get there?" once you've decided what u want out of life make a VISION BOARD and actively pursue your dreams. u can't actively pursue something if u dont know what it is. so i advise u to remind urself whenever u feel that u need it of your "why", your driving cause. having that motivation, and actively pursuing and keeping the promises that u make to urself -> will then build ur confidence in yourself to the point where your betting on urself bcuz u know that no matter what cards you are dealt, you'll prosper.

so just to wrap things up, an overview ; start keeping ur promises -> be strict -> get comfy being uncomfy -> say ur self concept affirmations -> apply -> remind

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 4.6k ➠ warnings: cursing, vomiting, depictions of illness, hospital settings, etc. (but he gets better! i prommy!) ➠ genre: fluff, a touch of hurt/comfort, suggestive? (i mean they’re mentioned to shower together but it’s in a very tender caretaking sort of way, it's a ‘you cannot perform this task of hygiene and i love you and will assist you in performing this vital task’ sort of thing), established relationship, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), shortfic in the buzzer beater series (after 27JSC, before garbage goal) ➠ extra info: the title is directly lifted from the title of this academic article on pubmed that came up in some googling i was doing for this fic the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i did NOT expect this to turn into a literal series but these two have rlly captured my lil heart tbh. i’m obsessed with them. they’re in love. i’m not sorry and i will not pretend to be in order to be cute on the internet. anyway enjoy 🫶 ➠ series masterlist

The utter relief that you felt having Sungchan home again was a feeling unparalleled. Having him home, in his own clothes, in your bed, holding you and laughing at something stupid he’d just said but thought was the funniest thing ever—that was the most you’d ever loved someone, you decided.

Stirring slightly in the middle of the night, you were aware of being uncomfortable, hot, and sweaty under all your sheets, blankets, and boyfriend.

“Mmh,” you groaned, pushing at Sungchan, who was of course passed out on top of you like you were the mattress. “Channie, off. ‘m too hot.”

He readjusted slightly, but just grabbed you to pull you to his front like the cuddle monster he was. You were now acutely aware of your clothes sticking to your back and chest.

“No, let go.” You grabbed at his arms. “Come on, Channie, aren’t you hot too?”

He suddenly vaulted himself out of bed, throwing the sheets and blankets off of him in a mad dash towards the bathroom. You sat up in bed, blearily watching him in confusion until he kneeled down at the toilet and you finally put the pieces together, hurrying in after him and turning on the light on your way in.

He didn’t have any hair to hold back from his face as he emptied his stomach, so you mainly rubbed his back through his damp t-shirt. With the bathroom lights on, you were able to see that the front and back of his white shirt were entirely soaked with sweat, his face pink and sweat-sheened, and his hair stuck to his forehead. His whole body radiated with an unnatural heat as you sat beside him, coaching and comforting him through it as he gripped the toilet bowl with white knuckles.

When it seemed like he had gotten to a pause in his retching, you coaxed his head up away from the opening, then flushed it. Grabbing some toilet paper from the roll hanging next to you, you bundled up enough to wipe around his mouth and nose, then tossed that into the bowl as well as the water was still draining.

“We…” He stopped to cough, then spit into the toilet. “We ate the same stuff last night… Why aren’t you…”

“Baby, I don’t think this is food poisoning,” you replied, moving his hair off his forehead to press the back of your hand there. “I think you’re sick.”

“But my immune system is so good! I haven’t even gotten a cold in like five years! I got my flu shot two weeks ago!”

“I know, I was there holding your hand.”

His whining was cut off by more puking, and you continued to soothe him through it.

“Channie, you can’t send this.” You shook your head, reading over his email to his research head again.

“But I have to… to tell him why I can’t come in,” Sungchan reached for his phone from your hands.

“Baby, this is gibberish.” You held the phone away from his grabby hands so you could delete the nonsense email and exit out of the app before setting it on his nightstand. “You go back to sleep, I’ll call the lab for you, okay?”

He sighed, laying back down in bed and closing his eyes. “Okay… don’t take too long… miss you…”

“And he’s out,” you commented to yourself fondly.

It was quick work to look up the office line on the university’s website, and you took the call in the living room as he napped in your room. Hearing the click of it being picked up first, it was answered by an older-sounding, stern man.

“Yoon Taekyung.”

“Hi, Dr. Yoon, this is Y/L/N Y/N, I’m—”

“Jung Sungchan’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, yes, Jung Sungchan’s girlfriend.” You laughed nervously, caught off-guard. You’d never met Sungchan’s research head before.

“Jung talks about you a lot. I don’t stalk my PhD candidates online, in case you were wondering.”

“No, I wasn’t, but thank you for clarifying,” you chuckled. “Anyway, I’m sorry to bother you, but unfortunately Sungchan has a stomach bug and is not going to be able to come in for a few days. He had typed up his own email to you but when I proofread it… you could tell the fever was boiling his brain.”

“I would have appreciated the laugh,” Dr. Yoon said dryly. “We certainly don’t want Jung bringing any outside germs into the microbiology lab. Keep him home.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Dr. Yoon.”

Having already finished your master’s degree, you didn’t have any professors to email about missing class today. It was a Friday, and you weren’t scheduled to work all weekend, so you were free to stay home and take care of Sungchan.

Walking back into your bedroom, you stopped next to Sungchan’s side of the bed, pressing your hand to his forehead. He really was burning up.

His eyes fluttered open, and he mumbled something that sounded like your name.

“Yeah, baby, I’m here,” you reassured him, stroking his head. “Go back to sleep, I’m going to make you something to eat, okay?”

His eyes closed again, and you gave his head one last gentle pat.

Poking your head back into the bedroom some time later, you were pleasantly surprised to see Sungchan awake again, scrolling on his phone.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” You walked over, grabbing the thermometer off his nightstand.

“Mm… great,” he groaned, setting his phone down.

“Liar.” You held the thermometer out. “Open.”

He pouted up at you with the thermometer sticking out of his mouth as the two of you waited. It beeped, and you took it back, frowning as you read the display.

“I don’t like that…” You sighed, taking a picture of it with your phone. “I’m going to text your mom. How’s your tummy?”

“Fine…”

“You think you can eat? I made some food.”

“Sure, sure, yeah.”

“Okay, be right back, Channie.” You kissed his hair.

In the kitchen, you hurriedly opened your text conversation with Sungchan’s mom. She was a family medicine doctor, and you’d been updating her on how her son was doing throughout the day.

[you: attached image]

[you: his fever keeps going up, even after the meds he took this morning. no more puking so far]

As you spooned out small portions of dishes, loaded them up on a tray, and reheated a mug of some tea you’d prepared earlier, you continued texting back and forth with Dr. Jung.

[dr. jung: Give him another dose of the acetaminophen. If it keeps going up take him to urgent care]

[you: will do, thank you. he’s about to try to eat some lunch. wish us luck!]

[dr. jung: Good luck sweetheart]

Tucking your phone away, you grabbed the tray of food to take back in to Sungchan. He had pushed himself up against the headboard, letting you set the tray down on his lap. Putting the now steaming mug on the nightstand, you started pointing to everything.

“Ginger tea, and easy tummy foods. Some rice, soup, crackers, and for dessert—” You pulled out a small package from the pocket of your hoodie.

He gasped softly. “Chocolate biscuits…”

“Chocolate biscuits,” you confirmed, setting them on the tray table then stroked his hair gently. “I’m going to go clean up the kitchen then I’ll come sit with you. Holler if you need me before then, okay?”

He grabbed your hand before you could get too far, his skin burning hot against yours. “Hey. Thank you.”

“Anything for my Sungchannie,” you smiled, gently swinging your linked hands where they hung in the air. “Small bites, and don’t force anything down, okay? You’ll only throw it back up if you do that.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And how are you on water?” You picked up the water bottle on his nightstand with your free hand, shaking it. “Eh, half. I’ll refill it for you, too. Be back in a sec.”

After putting the leftovers away and refilling his water, you shook out a couple more tablets of acetaminophen and brought both of them back with you.

“Here.” You placed them on the table next to him. “Your mom says to take another dose, and if your fever keeps going up then we’ll have to take you to urgent care.”

He nodded, thankfully opting not to talk with food in his mouth. You scooted back into bed next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he slowly picked at his food.

“Good food, baby, thank you,” he sniffled, taking a sip of his tea. “I mean, my nose is so stuffed up I can’t taste most of it, but it’s still good.”

You chuckled, patting his chest. “Thanks, Channie.”

“Are you sure you should be sitting so close to me? I don’t want to get you sick too.”

“We live together, I’m either going to get sick or I won’t. It’s not like I’m asking you to spit in my mouth or anything,” you scoffed.

“Yeah, right now.”

Before you could even make a retort, he suddenly careened forward in a fit of violent coughs, and you surged to first steady the tray table so he didn’t knock the liquids everywhere. After moving it off his legs and onto an unoccupied area of the mattress, you rested a hand on his back as he continued coughing, wincing sympathetically at how painful they sounded. Finally, he stopped coughing, and paused to catch his breath.

“Mm… I think you should keep your loogies to yourself for now, Channie,” you tutted. “Drink some water.”

Setting his water bottle back down, he blinked slowly. “Ugh… that hurt.”

“Do you want the food back? Or are you done?”

He shook his head. “I’m done. Don’t want anything coming back up.”

“I’ll put it in the fridge in case you get hungry later.”

You had just closed the fridge when you heard retching sounds from your bathroom.

It was almost two hours later before the two of you left the cold tile floor of your bathroom. There were impressions of the grout in your knees and your joints ached from the unforgiving, hard flooring. And it was only to get Sungchan to sit on the equally hard, cold, tile floor of the shower under a lukewarm stream of water—you were afraid of making it too hot with how high his fever already was, and he whimpered like the water was hurting him if it was too cold. With how much fever-sweating he’d been doing since the wee hours of the morning, you could only imagine how uncomfortable it was for him (you yourself still hadn’t had the chance to sneak in a quick shower since being awoken in sweat that morning either). Not even to mention just all the puke that the both of you had been around.

You knelt behind him to very gently work some shampoo through his hair, then tilted his chin up with your hand to direct his head back into the spray and rinse out the suds. You used your other hand to block his eyes from any stray shampoo that may accidentally run down into them. With his hair off his forehead, you could catch a glimpse of a light scar, from taking a puck directly to the face your senior year of college, soon after you started dating. You’d taken care of him then, warned him to be careful when washing his hair, and he’d joked about having you do it for him. You couldn’t help but run a finger over it lightly.

After finishing up washing his hair, you reached behind you to blindly fumble for the handle and turn the spray off. It was a bit dicey getting the two of you to stand up in the confined space with Sungchan’s less-than-optimal coordination at the moment, and you toweled the both of you off in the bathroom quickly.

Back in new clothes, you let him fall into bed as you appraised the nightstand. “Did you take the meds before you threw up? I don’t— Oh, there they are.”

You grabbed them from behind the water bottle, nudging Sungchan’s shoulder. “Baby, you can take a nap after you take these, okay? They’re going to help your fever.”

“Uh?” He squinted one eye open, then dropped his mouth open. You placed the tablets on his tongue, then held the straw up to his lips. He swallowed with minimal difficulty, then dropped his head back down to the pillow.

You crawled into bed too, curling up behind him and throwing an arm over his middle. Sungchan groaned and shifted in place.

“Are you warm?” You asked quietly. “I’ll scooch if you’re too warm.”

“No,” he whined, grabbing at the blankets and pulling them up higher. “Cold… ‘n everything hurts, baby. My head hurts, my throat hurts, my stomach hurts, my muscles hurt from throwing up so much. Everything hurts.”

“My Sungchannie.” You scooted in closer to him, burying your face in his neck. “I’m sorry… I wish it didn’t hurt, baby. I’m so sorry. I wish I could make it stop for you.”

“I’m going to take a nap, I think…” He sniffed.

“I think that’s a good idea.” You kissed his shoulder. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, baby boy.”

“That’s it, we’re going to the urgent care,” you declared with a shake of your head, looking at the most recent temperature readout on the thermometer. Up again.

Despite all of Sungchan’s grumbling about not being that sick, you still managed to get him into the car and to the doctor, keeping a wary eye on him as you took all of your turns very carefully and accelerated and braked as smoothly as possible so that he hopefully wouldn’t vomit all over your car interior as well. After staying in the waiting room for an agonizing amount of time, you two finally went back.

The doctor took one look at Sungchan’s vitals, and you explained just how many times he’d thrown up in less than twelve hours, before deciding to admit him.

You had been asked to step out of his room for the moment, and walked up and down the long hallway, continuing to update his mom.

[you: he just got admitted. doctor says he probably just needs fluids and something stronger to bring the fever down but wants to keep him overnight for observation]

[dr. jung: Who’s his attending?]

[you: dr. chen]

[dr. jung: Oh good. He’s good, our Sungchan’s in good hands. I’ll be by after clinic closes.]

[you: thanks, i’ll let him know you’re coming]

A nurse left Sungchan’s room then, and you perked up as the older man seemed to be walking towards you.

“I’m so sorry, miss, this is going to sound weird,” he began with a sheepish smile. “But has your husband been on TV?”

“Oh, uh, boyfriend…” You corrected him distractedly, way more focused on said boyfriend. “And uhm, not exactly. Why?”

“He just looks very familiar.”

You thought for a second, then suggested, “Do you like hockey?”

“Yes, my wife and I have season passes for the local university’s team’s home games.”

“Sungchan played for the Raptors a couple years ago.”

“Oh! I was wondering why the name was so familiar too…”

“Sorry, did you need something from me?”

“Yes, I need to put his IV in, uhm, but he’s asking for you…”

You nodded. “Yeah, he has a fear of needles. Shouldn’t that be in his chart or whatever somewhere?”

“We just have the records from the urgent care doctor who sent him up here, sorry,” the nurse admitted. “But I’ll make a note of it.”

Following the nurse in, you saw that Sungchan was all by himself, and had to bite your lip at the image of him already hooked up by wires to a bunch of other machines. He still smiled when he saw you, though.

“Hey, baby…” he held his hand out towards you, and you took it, giving it a squeeze.

“Hi. Heard you were asking for me.”

“Thought you might feel left out if I got a needlestick and you weren’t here.”

“Yeah, it’s my favorite hobby, watching you get pricked over and over,” you replied sarcastically.

“Which arm?” The nurse asked.

“The right. He’s a lefty,” you answered immediately.

He looked between you and Sungchan for a moment.

“What she said,” Sungchan confirmed.

As the nurse prepared his arm for the IV, you distracted him on his other side.

“So, I was texting your mom in the hallway,” you told him. “She said she’s going to come by after the clinic closes. She also knows your attending, says you’re in good hands, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, that’s good.” He suddenly squeezed your hand tight.

You rushed to find another topic and keep talking, “Also, I have to tell you about this new book I was reading. Really, it was a collection of short stories, but you know how I am with those. God, it’s incredible. It’s like surrealism, and sort of psychological horror, and some of them toe in body horror, but also magical realism, but all of them sort of explore like womanhood and societal expectations of women and that kind of thing. They’re so fantastic. There’s one about a teenage girl who just starts eating birds one day. Like, live birds, the kind of birds you’d keep as a pet. Feathers and all. She’s not actually the POV character, though, you get to follow her dad as he tries to take in this change and adjust and acclimate to it as his otherwise normal teen daughter has to consume live birds while his estranged wife tries to convince him to just accept it and that it’s really not that bad. And obviously that can be a metaphor for how fathers—”

“Done.” The nurse announced. “Dinner’s in an hour, Mr. Jung. Buzz if you need anything before then.”

“I think you freaked him out with your ‘eating live birds and scaring your dad is a metaphor for being a teen girl’ story, baby,” Sungchan chuckled.

“But it is!” You defended yourself. “And it’s so good, really!”

“I’m sure it is.” He scooted over in the tiny bed to make a little bit of room, then patted the empty space he’d just created. “Want my girl to tell me all about it.”

You clambered up next to him, still with one foot hanging off the bed to let both of you fit, but just all too happy to be with him again.

Just a little while later, and the nurse was poking his head back into Sungchan’s room. Dr. Jung paused the funny story she had just been telling from her seat on the small recliner next to the bed, and all three of you looked over at the newcomer.

The nurse focused his apologetic eyes on you, “Miss, I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.”

“Oh.” You looked around awkwardly, starting to get up from the bed. “Sorry, I thought he was allowed to have one person stay overnight.”

“Spouses and immediate family only, I’m sorry.”

“That’s fi—”

“No, we’re married,” Sungchan insisted, grabbing your hand. “It’s fine, she can stay.”

“Sir…” He trailed off, clearly debating about whether or not he wanted to just outright call Sungchan a liar.

“Channie, I told him earlier we were dating,” you informed your boyfriend quietly. “It’s fine, I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Baby…” He sighed.

“It’ll be okay, Channie, I’ll be back tomorrow,” you promised him, grabbing your go bag off the floor and hoisting it onto your shoulder. “You just worry about resting and getting better for me, okay?”

“I’ll walk you out, sweetheart,” his mom offered kindly, standing up as well.

“Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Channie,” you leaned down to drop a peck on his forehead. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He continued to keep a deathly tight grasp on your hand. “I love you too.”

You gave his hand one final pat before regretfully, gently shaking him off and walking out of the room. Dr. Jung slowly meandered down the hall with you.

“I’ll be there, in case they have to inject him, or draw blood, or anything else,” she reassured you.

“Right, thank you,” you nodded, looking down at your feet. “Has he always been afraid of needles? He never really talks about it with me, it’s just one of those things. I go with him for his shots, blood draws, all that.”

“Since he was a kid. He used to run from the room crying. We at least wanted him to be able to handle it on his own by the time he was an adult, even if it wasn’t comfortable.”

“He gives me my monthly injection now, the one I take for my migraines. Did you know that?”

“Really?” She did sound surprised at this tidbit of information.

“Pretty much since we started dating, yeah. Still wants me to go with him for his shots but…”

“It’s different when you’re the one being stuck.”

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed, swallowing down the lump in your throat. You pressed the down button on the elevator. “Usually I’m the one that has something wrong with me and he’s taking care of me. It’s so… it doesn’t feel right, seeing him like that.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” She rubbed your arm. “But he’s strong, he’s healthy. I’m sure they’ll discharge him tomorrow to go back home with you.”

“Of course.”

“Now you go home and take care of that migraine that’s been coming on for the last fifteen minutes.”

You looked up at her with one eye open, shrugging. “Well, I don’t know if it’s a full migraine…”

“You’re squinting at the lights, sweetheart. Go home so you can take your meds, okay?”

The elevator dinged just then, the doors opening on your floor.

“Okay, thank you.” You gave her a tired, but genuinely grateful smile as you stepped onto the elevator. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You spent that night going through your first migraine alone in almost two years, curled up on Sungchan’s side of the bed in one of his huge hoodies, feeling like your head was exploding. But that wasn’t even the reason that you were crying.

In the morning, you were awake before visiting hours opened back up, and despite your instinct to drive to the hospital and wait in the parking lot, you pulled yourself into the shower instead. You didn’t have a lot of time nor mobility for your own shower routine yesterday, and were in desperate need of a good thorough clean and refresh now. After eating some of the leftovers you made the day before, you packed up a small to-go meal for Dr. Jung as well, unsure of how good the cafeteria food was there. She had given you an update during the night that his fever had finally broken, then another once she woke up that he slept through the rest of the night fine, and was still resting as of her text.

By the time you got to the hospital, it was open for daytime visitors, and you were let in with no issues. You’d let Dr. Jung know when you were on your on way, and she was standing outside the door to his room when you arrived.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she smiled, giving you a hug. “How’s your head?”

“Fine,” you waved off her concerns, reaching into your bag to grab the container of food you’d packed. “Brought you breakfast. Wasn’t sure what they were serving downstairs…”

She accepted it gratefully. “Thank you. Now: How’s your head?”

“Last night kind of sucked,” you admitted. “And I’ve got a rebound headache, but I’ll be fine. We don’t need to tell Channie right now, though. He’ll just worry too much and he won’t get better. How’d you sleep? That recliner looked pretty comfy.”

“Would’ve slept better, except he snores like a freight train,” she scoffed. “How you get any sleep is beyond me.”

You let out a round of genuine laughter at that. “He doesn’t usually. Must be the congestion.”

“Must be.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’m going to take my breakfast downstairs. He’s awake, been asking when you’d be here.”

“Thank you.” You gave her one last fleeting hug before hurrying in.

Sungchan already looked better than yesterday, still tired, but not as deathly pale as before, with no sheen of fever-sweat over his skin. He really just looked… tired.

“Good morning, Channie,” you said breathlessly, setting your bag down. “Heard your fever broke last night. How are you feeling?”

“Morning, baby.” He reached out for your hand. “I’m feeling a lot better. I wish I could’ve made my girl breakfast this morning…”

“You can make me double breakfast after you come home.”

“And what’s double breakfast?”

“Guess you’ll have to figure that out.”

“Breakfast and breakfast for dinner.”

“Sounds pretty good to me.”

He looked up at you with a thoughtful frown on his face, reaching out to gently touch his fingertips to your cheek. “Are you okay, baby? You’re not feeling sick now too, are you?”

“I’m fine, baby. Just a bit tired. I’ll sleep like a baby once I have my Sungchannie back home with me.” You mustered as big of a smile as you could, squeezing his hand.

“I’ve got to get better quick then, can’t have—” he was cut off by loud, violent coughs, throwing his arm up to cover his mouth with his elbow. You rubbed his back as he continued coughing, and he reached for the bedside table. Handing him a couple of tissues from the box sat there, he spat out some of the mucus that had come up, and you used a few more fresh tissues to grab it and throw it away without complaint.

Returning to his side, you continued rubbing his back as he caught his breath. When he started slowly easing back into his bed, you took your hand away and grabbed his cup of water to give him.

“Here.”

He took a few sips before handing it back, and you took his hand again.

“As I was saying,” he cleared his throat. “Before I was so rudely interrupted by my own phlegm: I can’t have my girl all alone in a cold bed at night…”

You laughed, feeling the smitten smile on your face as you looked down at him. “There is some horndog switch in you that gets flipped when you’re unwell, I swear. Scientists need to study you.”

“I’m a scientist, remember?”

“You study a disease in one kind of fish,” you pointed out. “I mean like… sexologists or something. If those exist.”

“They do.”

“Well they’re missing out on… something here.” You gestured to him.

He half-laughed and half-coughed, which devolved into another full coughing fit. After recovering, he said, “Anyway, once my doctor rounds again and checks me out, he’ll be able to say if I can be discharged today or if he wants to keep me another night.”

“Fingers crossed.”

The utter relief that you felt having Sungchan home again was a feeling unparalleled. Having him home, in his own clothes, in your bed, holding you and laughing at something stupid he’d just said but thought was the funniest thing ever—that was the most you’d ever loved someone, you decided.

You suddenly rolled over to lay on top of him, pressing your face to his chest, wrapping your arms around him, and throwing your leg over him. He let out a slightly punched-out noise at the unexpected force of your affections, but nevertheless readjusted to wrap his arms around you.

“Hey, baby… Everything okay?” His throat was still hoarse, and he let out a half-cough half-throat clearing noise between his sentences. He added jokingly, “I’m not going to float away, you know?”

“I never want you to leave again,” you mumbled into his clothes. “Never. Never ever.”

“Okay, yeah,” his voice softened, one of his hands cradling the back of your head and stroking your hair. “I’ll never leave, ever again.”

➠ next | series masterlist | blog masterlist

[hotteoki]

christmas things with bf skz !

pairing: hyung line skz x reader (no prns used)

genre: fluff, point-form fic, est. rel.

cw: not proofread

wc: 0.9k

notes: merry christmas to anyone who celebrates it, and a happy monday to those who don't! P.S. happy birthday val <3 @kyrjnie

chan (방찬) ~ ice skating

despite having to wait in the long, long, long queue for what feels like centuries just to ice skate in a tiny rink outside the local mall

it's a tradition you and chan do every year

sure, it's not ideal to wait an hour in the freezing cold just to skate for 45 minutes only

but when chan is standing right behind you

helping you wrap your scarf the correct way

zipping your coat all the way up

pulling your beanie that was riding up your head back down

and holding a warm cup of hot chocolate?

you could get past that

besides

it's always funny to watch him flail his arms around like bambi

sometimes you like watching him struggle just to see his frown when you don't help him up

"you don't love me anymore!!!!!"

"if i try to pull you up i'm going to fall down right beside you, chan"

"YOU SHOULD AT LEAST TRY!!!!"

so you do

and to no one's surprise except chan's

you fall down

the little pro skater kids start to get worried when neither of you are able to get up

well you could

if chan didn't attempt to yank on you as support to pull himself back up

why does this man not understand that you are incapable of supporting him to stand back up

it's cute to watch him attempt to recreate one of the figure skating spins tho

i am nawt a figure skater idk the names i'm sawry

you two are just goals goals goals!!!!!!!

minho (민호) - mall intercom announcements

it first happened 4 years ago

it was the most embarrassing moment of your life

minho had suggested the two of you go christmas shopping at the biggest mall in south korea

one second you were holding his hand

the next you're spinning around in the middle of the 2nd floor wondering where the hell your 172cm boyfriend could've wandered off to

you were about to call him until you realise you have his phone after he gave it to you before running off into the toilet

"what if my phone drops into the toilet bowl?!"

you were about to start retracing your steps until you hear your name being announced by the information desk, followed by a "your boyfriend is waiting for you by the information desk at the 3rd floor"

you were so going to kill that man

but that night you think to yourself

killing him isn't enough

no, no

you needed to embarrass him right back

so you held your grudge until next christmas

you mumbled something about a flash sale at a nearby store and that he should find you there after he was done scouring uniqlo and ran off before he could object

you gave yourself a few more minutes before you made the announcement over the information desk

boy, was he mad when he saw the cheeky smile on your face

ever since then, it became a tradition for the two of you to race each other to make the lost person announcement to embarrass the other

it's all fun and games until the worker stares in confusion over thinking either one of you was the other's lost kid

changbin (창빈) ~ take-outs

you don't know why either of you still bother cooking christmas dinner

neither of you can cook

sure, you're a fairly decent baker

but that won't suffice for a christmas dinner

and changbin cannot cook for his life

yet you still take turns deciding on who's going to poison the other

obviously that never works out

the day either ends with you guys calling minho and asking begging him if you could have some of his leftovers

or

your more preferable option

ordering take-out

despite take-out being a very common occurrence for you guys

take-outs on christmas are special

the reason being the free sweets your favourite restaurant usually provide in the small bowl by the entrance

yes, the sweets are there usually

but after changbin accidentally caused a scene the first time you dined in at the restaurant long story

the owner had banned either of you from taking the complementary sweets

however

during christmas time, customers bustle in and out of the restaurant

which makes it easy for changbin to snag a handful of sweets and shove them in his pocket

before grabbing your hand and making a run for it back to his car

you do get some odd looks from the other customers queuing outside the restaurant

but at the end of the day

who are the ones who have a bunch of free sweets to snack on? B-)

hyunjin (현진) ~ sweater paws

it's the time of christmas! meaning...

taking hyunjin's oversized sweaters!!!

needless to say it's your favourite thing to do

it's not that he doesn't let you borrow them usually

he just... prefers to keep his expensive clothes in his closet safe and sound

however

he does indeed have a 'sweater of shame'

a christmas sweater that the other members got him as a gag gift a couple of years ago

you will never catch that man ALIVE wearing that "hideous thing"

so when you started dating him and found that absolute gem

you had decided it make it your mission to shove that "disgusting" piece of clothing over his head

except somehow the tables turned

and the sweater ended up wrapped around you

and hyunjin will never openly admit this

but it was quite literally one of the cutest sights he had ever seen in his life

ever since then

he's made it his mission to get you to wear the sweater every christmas

obviously you run away from him

until last year

when he finally caught you and managed to get it on you

you discovered the sweater does have a plus side to it

sweater paws

it feels like playing whack-a-mole whenever you attempt to swing at hyunjin with the sweater on

whack-a-hyunjin, perchance

he claims to hate it and runs away from you

but you both know it's something the two of you look forward to every christmas

networks: @kflixnet k-labels @kbookshelf @neverendingdreams-net @straykidsland @k-films pirateeznet

[canirove]

My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 1

Summary: Have you ever watched this movie Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans did before Marvel called “The Nanny Diaries”? It's about a girl, Scarlett's character, who finds herself working as a nanny for a very rich family, and Chris happens to be her hot and very cute neighbour. And something very similar is what has happened to me, neighbour included. Though in my case, mine is very cute and very hot. And handsome. The most handsome man I have ever seen. And his name is Rúben.

Author's note: This story has been finished and waiting in my drafts since 2022. I wrote it as a new and different version of "The Nanny Diaries" (my story with Ben Chilwell) because I didn't like it, and then I ended not liking this one either 🙈 But time passed, I read it again recently, thought it was cute… And here we are, having now both of them posted when they weren't supposed to 😅 I hope you like it, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

Next chapter

Masterlist

Have you ever watched this movie Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans did before Marvel called “The Nanny Diaries”? It's about a girl, Scarlett's character, who finds herself working as a nanny for a very rich family with a spoiled kid and Chris is her hot and very cute neighbour. And something very similar is what has happened to me, but let's start from the beginning.

My entire life was designed to achieve one goal: become the best piano player in the country. Or in the continent if my father got too excited. And since I can remember, I've been glued to one.

While my friends were going out to the park, I was going to my teacher's house to practice. While my friends were meeting to go shopping or watch a movie at the cinema, I was practicing. While my friends were going out clubbing and meeting boys and girls, I was going early to bed because I had practice in the morning. And while my friends were choosing a career path they liked and enjoyed and moving to different cities all around the country, I only had one option: playing the piano and moving to Manchester, where the best teacher lived. 

The weather sucks, yes. But it isn't such an ugly city as they say, and all the people I met were lovely and very welcoming. Unless you are fighting with them for a spot on the next recital or to get the next scholarship. That's when things get nasty, and that's how you end up with broken fingers and the dreams your parents had for you shattered. Because becoming the best piano player of my generation wasn't my dream, it was theirs. Or my father’s to be precise.

So when Anastasia Hamilton pushed me down the stairs and I found myself with two broken fingers on my left hand, a sprained ankle and my body covered in bruises, I didn't complain. Well, that's a lie. I complained and cried because it hurt like hell. But I didn't complain when they told me I wouldn't be able to play the piano like I used to due to one of my fingers not healing properly despite being treated by the best doctors. I didn't complain because I was finally free. If I wanted to play, I would be doing it because I wanted to, not because it was my job, because I had to, because my future depended on it. Now I was free to finally follow my dreams and not my parents’. Or that's what I thought.

I told them I wanted to take a gap year to figure out what to do with my life, but they said no. They had decided that I should study to become a music teacher, to help others achieve what I hadn't been able to. We argued, they said that if I wanted to do anything different it would not be with their money, I said ok, and I found myself alone in Manchester with barely any money or a place to live.

And that's when I crossed paths with Julia. 

I had gone to the shopping centre to see if anyone was looking for a waitress or someone to fold t-shirts in a shop, when I saw her crying in the middle of one of the corridors, most people walking past her and ignoring her. 

"Hey, are you ok?" I said, kneeling in front of her. "Where are your parents?"

"Quiero a mi mamá" she sobbed. That was why people were ignoring her. She only spoke Spanish and they didn't understand her. But, lucky me, I used to go to the north of Spain for music summer camp and I can speak it fluently. 

"¿Dónde está tu mamá?" Where is your mum? 

"No lo sé. Estaba comprando una taza fea y..." Her mum was buying an ugly mug. I couldn't help but laugh at that.

"Ok, let’s go find her.” Where we were most shops only sold clothes, but I remembered I had just walked past a Zara Home. Maybe she was there? "Come" I said, grabbing her hand. She didn't say a word and just followed me, her sobs turning into hiccups. 

"Julia!" a woman screamed the moment we turned the corner. "Oh, Julia, I thought I had lost you!" 

"Mami!" the kid said, letting go of my hand and throwing herself at the woman. "Me perdí y esta chica me ayudó."

"Did you help her?" the woman asked me.

"I saw her crying and that people were ignoring her, and I decided to check on her. She was speaking Spanish and I think that's why most people were walking past her, because they weren't able to understand her."

"Oh, she always does that when she gets upset. Do you speak Spanish?"

"Yup."

"Oh, you are an angel" the woman said, hugging her daughter a bit tighter. "I don't know how I'm gonna be able to thank you."

"Knowing that she's alright is enough, don’t worry."

"No, no, no. You must allow me to do something for you. What do you say, Julia. Should we invite this wonderful angel to have lunch with us?"

"Yes!" Julia said, her English coming back. "We'll bake you a chocolate cake! Do you like chocolate cake?"

"I actually do, yes" I smiled.

"Then it's settled. Let me give you my card, it has my office phone number on it" Julia's mum said, opening her bag. "Call tomorrow morning and we'll schedule that lunch together."

"Ok. Thank you."

"Thank you" the woman said, giving me a hug. "My name us Lucía, by the way. But you can call me Lucy like everyone in this country does."

"Nice to meet you, Lucy."

Lucía, Lucy. A Spanish lawyer specialized in divorces, and the divorces of very wealthy people. Which meant that when I arrived at her house for that lunch date, I found myself before one of the most expensive apartment buildings in the city. 

"Are you coming in, miss?" the doorman asked.

"Yes, hi, sorry. Do I have to tell you where I'm going or..."

"You don't look like a thief" the man chuckled.

"I'm not, I promise. I'm meeting with Lucy and Julia."

"Oh, yes. Miss Julia said a friend was coming for lunch today. An angel."

"That must be me" I said, blushing a bit.

"Then welcome, miss" the man said, opening the building's door. "Do you know their floor number?"

"Yes, the 7th. Letter B."

"That’s the one. Call for the lift and push the number, their house will be the one to your right."

"Thank you very much, sir."

"My pleasure, miss" the man said with a smile. Roger. The loveliest man you'll ever meet.

"So glad you could make it" Lucy said after opening the door, giving me a hug. 

"Angel!" Julia screamed, coming to also hug me. "You came!"

"Of course I did."

"She’s decided to start calling you angel because of what I said at the shopping centre. I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry" I smiled.

“Come, let me show you my room" Julia said, grabbing my hand and forcing me to follow her.

After a tour around the house and its many rooms, we were back in the living room, one where the small flat I was renting thanks to some money my grandparents had been sending me without my parents knowing, could perfectly fit.

"Is that a real piano?" I asked Julia.

"It's daddy's" she said. "We used to play together."

"That's lovely." My dad never played with me just for fun. It always was about practice, practice... And oh, yes, more practice.

"Do you play?" Lucy asked me.

"Since I was Julia's age."

"Oh, that's wonderful! Why don't you play something for us while we wait for our food?"

"Sure" I said, sitting in front of the huge black piano. It was a very expensive one like everything else on that building.

"Daddy used to play that!" Julia said when she recognized the song. "Hey Jude, don't make it bad... Mami, why are you crying?" she asked her when we finished.

"Because it was beautiful, sweetheart. And you play so well" Lucy told me. "Have you ever thought about giving lessons?"

"Not really..."

"Julia started to take them a few months ago, but her teacher... Had other things to do, so now she doesn't have one. Would you like to take her place?"

"Me?" 

"Yes, angel! Be my teacher!" Julia said, clapping her hands and jumping.

That was what my parents had wanted me to do. To become a teacher. I wasn't going to be doing it at the music school, but this still was teaching, right? And I liked Lucy and Julia a lot despite only knowing them for just a few hours. 

"I'll do it" I said. "I'll be Julia's teacher."

"Oh, perfect!" Lucy smiled. "When can you start?"

"Whenever you want. I have nothing else to do" I shrugged.

"Then tomorrow. I have to work, so maybe you could pick up Julia from school, bring her here and start your lessons? I'll pay you for that extra time."

"Ok" I nodded.

I had found a job, one that I liked, and one that was going to pay me handsomely judging by the numbers Lucy had mentioned while doing a draft of my contract. 

I was so busy thinking about all that, checking the details she had given me about Julia's school, that I hadn’t noticed the lift had made it to the lobby and the doors were open. 

“Are you going up again?” a male voice said.

“Uh?” I replied, lifting my eyes from my phone. And what did they see? The most handsome man you could ever imagine.

“Are you going up again?” he repeated.

“I…” I had forgotten how to speak. I may have not been wearing an ugly costume like Scarlett in one of the scenes where she met Chris Evans, but I had my jaw on the floor and definitely was making a fool of myself. “No” I finally managed to say.

“So… are you leaving, then?” he asked, trying to hide a smile.

“Yes” I said, still looking at him. Was he real? He was real. When he stopped the lift’s door from closing again, taking a step forward towards me, I saw that he was very real. “Thank you. Sorry. I’m leaving” I blurted out, my brain finally remembering how speaking worked. Kind of.

“It’s ok” he replied with a smile. No, not a smile. A smirk. One that made everything inside me turn upside down. “Bye” he said, walking inside the lift and letting go of the doors, disappearing behind them while I just stared. He must have thought I was stupid. A creep. Or both. But what else are you supposed to do when you find yourself face to face with the hottest man in planet earth?

“Miss, are you alright?” I heard Roger say from the door.

“Yes, yes. Just… Processing what just happened. That I got a job, I mean” I quickly added, noticing how he was arching an eyebrow, his eyes moving to the lift. 

“Oh, those are great news, miss. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. I guess you’ll be seeing more of me from now on.”

And hopefully, I would be seeing more of him too. Of the hot neighbour, my own Chris Evans. Though later on I would find out that his name wasn’t Chris, that would have been too much of a coincidence.

His name was Rúben. 

[igglemouse]

As sunlight streams through a few kitchen windows on an ordinary Tuesday morning, I find myself in my zone, right in front of a stove and preparing what hopes to be a delectable breakfast.

Today, my craving calls for a special oatmeal creation that only a chef's touch can perfect because I plan to fold in a generous amount of berries and a few swirls of cream, maybe even a sprinkle of cinnamon? Who knows, sometimes when it comes to cooking its more about a feel and a whim to create a symphony of flavors that will get my taste buds dancing and singing.

As for Pascal, he was busy working out. Always working out. That is one dedicated man but that is one of the main reasons I'm attracted to him. I do love a man that has a goal, that has something driving him and Pascal definitely fits that criteria.

After my breakfast and after his workout we meet up on the couch.

"I'm so happy that you've been staying over,” he starts. “You know, you can stay over as long as you like, right?”

"I think you've said that before,” I reply, but I do like hearing him say it again.

"Well, it's true! I don't mind you being over here. There are many pros and I can’t think of any cons but I guess there might be a few.”

"Oh? A few cons, really?" I challenge.

"Nah, just kidding, no cons at all now that I think of it."

"The pros then?"

"The food is always amazing and the company is somehow better than the food."

"And by company you mean?”  He gets just a little closer as I ask, close enough that our shoulders brush up against each other and he puts aside his patience and brings me in for a kiss... 

And he kissed until somehow some way my clothes were off...

After our little romp I was reminded that I'll be needing clean clothes for the week and for some reason the man doesn't have a washer or dryer. I think he mentioned that he relies on the equipment manager at the stadium or something? For a professional athlete, he sure does live modestly, I’m not sure if financially this is a good or a bad thing but lets go with bad since it leaves me here washing my own clothes in a bucket of water under the hot Oasis Springs sun. 

Being filthy rich was never my goal and I don't want to just tie myself to him in the hopes that his next contract will be the thing that makes him wealthy but...it wouldn't be so bad, would it?

At least there would be a washer and dryer.

Right after handling my laundry I receive a text from Irene. She's asking if she can come over to hang out. It is a good idea since I don't have much planned for today, so it would be great to catch up with her and spend some time together.

But that won't be till later as right now is about lunch.

The enticing aroma of tamales drags Pascal from presumably whatever workout he was in the middle of and right into the kitchen. A big goofy grin on his face contradicts the accusatory look of his eyes, directed right at me, or rather, past me and at the stove. "Actually, this is definitely one of the cons."

"Didn't you say earlier that my cooking was a pro,” I say, playfully desperate to defend myself but thankfully my tamales are ready to go to help in my defense.

"Yes, but your cooking will make me fat and slow. I'll be cut from the team in a few months!"

"Pascal! You told me you didn't want salads so-"

"Cut in a year, Frida, think about that..."

I just laugh because no way this guy is going to put on weight with how much time he spends on the treadmill and working out.

Right as I finish my lunch I’m pulled to the door by a gentle knock which I correctly assume is Irene. Seeing her does put a smile on my face and I hurry to wrap her into a hug because I feel like there is an instant connection between us.

Instead of inviting her inside I led her to the side of the house as the weather really was too perfect to stay inside. 

Irene was eager to talk about my food or more specifically, the tacos I had for sale.

"I absolutely adored them!" she tells me but I could tell just by the look in her eyes. “Just a very classic taste and texture to them and-”

"Some foods just don’t need much experimentation," I offer because its true. I don’t try to reinvent the wheel with my dishes I simply try to make the car go faster.

"You're right about that you know but I've been trying to spice things up, you know? Fusion tacos, trying to mix things up and create a signature dish."

"Oh, hows that been going? What about that man ummm...your boss?" Remember him, Martin Lucena? He tried to hire me and was very very upset when I told him no? 

"Yeaaaa, he's not much for experimentation," she says with a laugh and I think more about my run in with the man just last night. Hard to imagine ever working for him. "But you know, I do it on my own time. One day I'll be on my own, like you are, and having a signature dish or two will help me stand out."

"Hmmm," she has a point there. I could use a signature dish myself. After all, a flying car must be better than one that just goes faster, right?

It was nice to spend more time with Irene but the day grew late and left me with Pascal who was at this time making love to his treadmill once again. I decided to bother him and annoy him a little because why not? He was having none of it though and decided to use the art of telling corny jokes to fend me off. 

"Why did the striker bring string to the game?" he asked. I froze in pure fear of what the answer might be, pleading with a look for him to not continue. "He wanted to tie the game!"

I cringe, already throwing in the white flag. "Okay Pascal, I don't-”

"How does a player stay cool during the game?"

"Water?"

"No, they stand near the fans!" He said, jubilant, as if he had scored a championship winning goal.

"Why does-"

"Noope! You enjoy your workout!" I get out of there just in time. 

So yeah, I really am enjoying my time over here...

Frida Varela Index ~ Next 5.2

[syddsatyrn]

Chapter 1⛤Chapter 2 ⛤ Chapter 3 ⛤Chapter 4 ⛤ Chapter 5 Masterlist

⛤Pairing: - Eddie Munson x FemReader

⛤Warnings: Swearing, drinking / smoking, drugs, fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, a little angst if you squint.

⛤Words: 2.7k

⛤Song: "Photograph" By Def Leppard

⛤Summary: Moving away from Hawkins was the biggest mistake of your life. You left your best friends and forgot to stay in touch. Years later, you decide to hit up your good friend Steve. Its time to make a plan and make amends. The one thing you didn't expect was feelings to resurface when you saw your old high school crush.

⛤Notes: This series is 18+ Minors scram. I've got a super extra long chapter for you guys today! @hellfiremunsonn is my faithful beta reader and assists me so much. Thank you guys for making my come-back series a fun one. My next chapter will be the end of this series.

⛤Chapter: 4 "Subtle" Chemistry Star court mall is always at least a little crowded. The lively hum of conversations, laughter, and distant music formed a vibrant backdrop. Storefronts beckoned with their displays of trendy fashion, electronics, and enticing sales. Shoppers meandered through the wide walkways, their bags filled with many treasures. Neon signs buzzing, the occasional sounds of a cash register, and the scent of cinnamon drifting through the air. It was just like you remembered it. You had a blast hanging out with Robin. She picked out a brand new pair of ankle length combat boots. You both decided to get ice cream and take a break from walking around. The food court wasn’t super crowded, it was the perfect place to chat. “Can I tell you something? It’s a secret so dont go telling Steve.” “Ohhhh is it secret time?” I won't tell Stevie boy, I promise.” Robin raises her right hand, “Scouts honor.” “Okay. Uhhh…well…I slept in Eddie’s bed last night. He came home from tour in the middle of the night.” Your face turns redder with every word. “Oh shit. Wow Y/N, I didn't think you had it in yah.” She chuckles and puts another spoonful of strawberry ice cream in her mouth. “We didn't do anything!” You affirm your tone a little on the defensive side. “What!? I’m just saying you guys have been madly in love with each other since sophomore year and neither of you have had the audacity to tell each other for some unspoken reason…until now.” She's not wrong, Robin has always been one to spell it out for you loud and clear. She never holds back, it's something you’ve always appreciated about her. Robin has been telling you to come clean for ages now.

“Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I don't want to screw up my friendship with Eddie. Also, he's like a big rockstar now, I doubt he has any time for stuff like that.” You explain as you sink into your chair. "He probably has some cool metalhead girlfriend I don't know about.” You take a bite of your vanilla ice cream. It's so fitting for this conversation, vanilla ice cream for a vanilla person.

“God it's been years and I still can’t wrap my head around your stupid self doubt.” Robin says, shaking her head. “Eddie doesn't have a girlfriend. When you left he moped around his trailer for weeks. No one could get him to come out, not even Dustin. One time I went over to his place to check on him and he was sloshed out of his mind. He told me, "The songs he sings don't mean a thing if you’re not there to hear it.”

“He didn't say that.” You scoff.

“Oh but he did, and he keeps a photo of you in his wallet.” Robin says teasingly.

“You know about that too?!” It's becoming apparent that everyone knows this except you.

“Of course I do. It's me, I know everything.” Robin says with a cocky tone.

You and Robin decide to float around the mall a little longer. A small department store was calling your name. The story had low lighting and they were playing some classic rock on the radio. Robin's goal was a pair of shoes, your goal however, was a hot outfit for tonight's party at the hideout. It honestly didn't take you long to find the cutest black skirt with chain embellishments, you picked out some new stockings too. —-------------- After the girls left Eddie felt like he could finally breathe. He finishes his coffee and breakfast, then falls backwards onto his bed. He stares at his ceiling as he finds himself lost in the intricate dance of thoughts that revolve around you. Images of you smiling genuine and heartwarming, flashed like snapshots in his imagination. Casual conversations, stolen glances, and the subtle chemistry that lingered in the air when you were near. The anticipation of his next encounter with you and the sweet nervousness that comes with it. The soft glow of the afternoon sun is casting a warm hue across his room. Steve and Dustin went grocery shopping, the apartment was silent. Eddie pulls himself out of his thoughts and shakes them off. He grabs a pre-rolled joint and lights it, Eddie is nervous and he knows it. All these years and he still can't tell you the truth. His life has changed so drastically for the better ever since he signed that record deal. But there was always something missing, something he was holding out for. Of course many girls are interested in him, but he's not interested in many girls. He promised himself after you left that next time he sees you, he is gonna tell you. If he misses this opportunity, he might lose you entirely. He almost completely gave up on you after a year of no contact. But every time he opened his wallet, he saw a glimpse of your face, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of you or the photo. Eddie puffs on his joint, each inhale making him a little less anxious. He tries to think about something else. It will be nice to hang out at the hideout again. That was where he played his very first gigs when the band was just starting out. They barely had any attendees and the band definitely sounded rough. Then Eddie recalls you being there for every single show. Your smiling face in the crowd, cheering him on after every song.  “Uhgg, get it together, man.” He says under his breath. He finishes his joint and decides to get dressed. —--------------- When you returned with Robin, Steve was putting away the last of the groceries. “We’re back!” Robin announces. Dustin is reading on the couch, when you look down the hall, Eddie’s bedroom door is open. “Welcome back, we will head to the bar when I finish this. I also need to get dressed. Eddie is out, said something about dropping off some equipment with Gareth. He’s gonna meet us there.” Steve says. Honestly, you were a little bummed. You were hoping he’d be around when you got back. But you shrug it off and take your stuff to his room. Robin follows you and shuts the door behind her. You both change into something a bit more stylish. You had a cropped Def Leppard shirt that you paired with the new skirt. This outfit would go well with boots and stockings. Robin didn't change anything really, just her shirt and shoes. You put on a couple of layered chain necklaces, a few rings, and a pair of small silver hoop earrings. “I am astonished really.” Robin says with a smile as she looks you up and down. You tilt your head in response and she laughs. “Eddie is gonna have a full on heart attack when he sees you.” Your face feels a little hot and you laugh nervously. “Do you think so?” “Oh yeah. No doubt.” She smirks. “Someones lookin’ to get lucky.” “Shut up!” You place your hand over her mouth. She does the unthinkable licks the palm of your hand. You give her this horrified face followed by both of you hysterically laughing like a couple of hyenas.  ---------------

The sun was setting and the sky grew darker with every passing minute. There is a chill in the air, which makes you shiver when you open the door. Steve drove to the hideout, it wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes away. When Steve pulled into the parking lot, you looked out the window and saw Eddie’s van. He’s already here, and you start to feel a bit anxious. The Hideout had not changed a bit. The neon signs in the window buzzed as you walked inside. Posters, fliers, and rustic decor filled the walls. You hear the low hum of chatter and the clinking of glasses, the place has a warm glow to it. You used to watch Eddie play here all the time. It felt like your heart was swelling, it's that bittersweet feeling again. You turn the corner and see Eddie and Gareth sitting in a booth. Eddie waves and one by one you all walk over and pile into the same booth. You sit across from Eddie, you can see his face getting a little red. “You uh…look really good, Y/N.” Eddie says with a half smile. He reaches over and adjusts one of your chain necklaces. Robin sees this and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh at how embarrassed you are. But you had to pull all that on hold for now. Nancy and Johnathan walk up and greet the group. You practically climb over Robin and wrap Nancy in a tight hug. “Oh! Y/N? You’re here?! When did you get into town?!” She hugs you back just as hard. “The other day! It's so good to see you, Nance.” Nancy smiles and fights back tears, she didn't expect any kind of reunion. The thing is, You both grew up together. Your mom was friends with Mrs. Wheeler. You spent a lot of your childhood with Nancy and her brother Mike. When you left, Nancy thought she lost you to the city for good.  “Don’t cry! I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.” “They are happy tears, it’s fine. I’m just so happy to see you.” Everyone in the group is touched to see two best friends reunite. Robin looks like she might start crying too. You give Jonathan a hug as well, It's nice to see him doing well. He wasn't always full of smiles and you’ve wondered how he's been over the years. You remember Jonathan used to take photos of the gang, half of the polaroids you have were probably taken by him. A bartender comes by and takes our order. Eddie ordered whiskey and so did you. Vodka soda for Nancy and Robin, Steve and Jonathan order beers. The clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter, and the subtle hum of the other patrons deep in conversation created a soundtrack to this shared experience. You updated your friends on your new life, and once again apologized for being an awful friend. Everyone was so happy to see you that it didn't matter anymore.  “You better not leave and go back to ignoring us.” Robin says. --------------------

The sun was setting and the sky grew darker with every passing minute. There is a chill in the air, which makes you shiver when you open the door. Steve drove to the hideout, it wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes away. When Steve pulled into the parking lot, you looked out the window and saw Eddie’s van. He’s already here, and you start to feel a bit anxious. The Hideout had not changed a bit. The neon signs in the window buzzed as you walked inside. Posters, fliers, and rustic decor filled the walls. You hear the low hum of chatter and the clinking of glasses, the place has a warm glow to it. You used to watch Eddie play here all the time. It felt like your heart was swelling, it's that bittersweet feeling again. You turn the corner and see Eddie and Gareth sitting in a booth. Eddie waves and one by one you all walk over and pile into the same booth. You sit across from Eddie, you can see his face getting a little red. “You uh…look really good, Y/N.” Eddie says with a half smile. He reaches over and adjusts one of your chain necklaces. Robin sees this and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh at how embarrassed you are. But you had to pull all that on hold for now. Nancy and Johnathan walk up and greet the group. You practically climb over Robin and wrap Nancy in a tight hug. “Oh! Y/N? You’re here?! When did you get into town?!” She asks and hugs you back just as hard. “The other day! It's so good to see you, Nance.” Nancy smiles and fights back tears, she didn't expect any kind of reunion. The thing is, You both grew up together. Your mom was friends with Mrs. Wheeler. You spent a lot of your childhood with Nancy and her brother Mike. When you left, Nancy thought she lost you to the city for good.  “Don’t cry! I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.” “They are happy tears, it’s fine. I’m just so happy to see you.” Nancy says between sobs. Everyone in the group is touched to see two best friends reunite. Robin looks like she might start crying too. You give Jonathan a hug as well, It's nice to see him doing well. He wasn't always full of smiles and you’ve wondered how he's been over the years. You remember Jonathan used to take photos of the gang, half of the polaroids you have were probably taken by him. A bartender comes by and takes our order. Eddie ordered whiskey and so did you. Vodka soda for Nancy and Robin, Steve and Jonathan order beers. The clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter, and the subtle hum of the other patrons deep in conversation created a soundtrack to this shared experience. You updated your friends on your new life, and once again apologized for being an awful friend. Everyone was so happy to see you that it didn't matter anymore.  “You better not leave and go back to ignoring us.” Robin says.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.” You reply.Hours slipped away unnoticed as the night unfolded, a mosaic of laughter, camaraderie, and the shared appreciation of the moment. Eddie could help but sneak glances at you, it was hard not to. He’s been trying to keep his cool all night, he had several shots of whiskey to build up some liquid courage. The world outside the café window dimmed as everyone delved into stories and life updates.

Eddie hands you his pack of cigarettes, silently asking if you’d like to go outside with him. You take one and place it between your lips. You and Eddie excuse yourselves from the group and head outside, the cold air sent a shiver up your spine.

“Brr! I forgot how cold it is when the sun goes down. I should have brought a coat.” You offhandedly say as Eddie lights your cigarette for you. Eddie removes his leather jacket, leaving him with a thick black hoodie. He drapes it around your shoulders and you are immediately much more comfortable. Your face gets a little red, he’s always been such a gentleman. You both lean up against Eddie's van. His thoughts are a symphony of emotions, dancing between hope and uncertainty. The evening was filled with a serene ambiance, and even in the quiet moments, you still felt comfort in his presence. “Y/N…” Eddie finally pipes up. “Yeah?” “I think we should talk. Y’know…about where we stand with each other.” Eddie admits. Your eyes widen, this is finally happening. The anxiety sets in and you try to swallow your nerves. Eddie stands in front of you, looking at his feet. “Do you remember, right before you left, that time we got high in my van next to lovers lake?” “Yeah. I do.” You answer quietly. “Do you remember me telling you that no one could ever replace you in my life?” He asks and you nod. You remember it like it was yesterday. It was a sunny day, the light glistening along the top of the water. You and Eddie passed a joint back and forth. You gave him a small wallet sized photo from picture day. “I still have that photo, I keep it in my wallet. You told me to keep it as a reminder, so I don't forget you. The thing is, meeting you was like finding my favorite song in a world full of noise, and I can't stop hitting replay no matter how many times I hear it.” Eddie takes a deep breath. It's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. You were stunned, absolutely speechless. In that moment, the unspoken became words, there was no going back now. Eddie moves a few inches closer, pinning you between himself and van. Under the glow from a nearby streetlamp, the air was charged with tension. You met his gaze with a gentle smile. Without another word, Eddie cupped your face in his hands. Time seemed to slow down as Eddie leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. You kiss him back, It spoke volumes with no words at all. Eddie presses his body against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer. You can't stop shaking, your nerves combined with the cold air made it impossible to be completely still. Eddie finally breaks away from you and opens the back doors to his van. “Hop in, you’re freezing to death.” Eddie says, you take his hand as he helps you into the van then he climbs in after you and shuts the door. You take a seat on an upside down milk crate while Eddie starts the car and cranks the heat. You still can't believe what just happened, you’ve only ever dreamed of this moment. Eddie grabs his acoustic guitar and sits on top of a large amp. He took a deep breath, fingers gently caressing the strings of the guitar, and he started to strum. “I feel so stupid for leaving you alone out here.” You say while looking down at your hands. “If anyone deserves an apology it’s you. I just assumed you moved on and didn’t need any reminders.” “Don’t worry your pretty little head, I forgive you.” He chuckles. “Besides, they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?” You recognize the tune he's playing, you’ve heard it before. “What song is this?” You ask, it's so familiar. “Photograph by Def Leppard.” He answers with a half smile and you smile back at him, your eyes widen as you recall the lyrics. He played this song for you before, but you ant remember how long ago. 

“Y’know, I still haven't figured out how to sit across from you and not be madly in love with everything you do.” You reply, hearing him play was actually really calming, you’ve missed this side of him. The guitar became an extension of his feelings, his voice carrying a sweetness to it, like warm honey. ♫“I see your face every time I dream

On every page, every magazine

So wild and free,

So far from me

You're all I want, my fantasy

Oh, look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown

Oh-oh, look what you've done

Photograph~

I don't want your photograph

I don't need your photograph

All I've got is a photograph

But it's not enough”♫ As the last chord resonated. Eddie sets the guitar against the wall of the van. You spring into his arms, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You bury your face in his shoulder, you didn't expect to get so emotional. You’re so happy but you still feel so guilty, you question why anyone would leave this feeling behind.

Eddie pulls you into his lap. “Are you crying?! Oh shit, no don’t cry…”Eddie squeezes you a little tighter. “Shhh…it's okay, sweetheart.”

You took a deep breath, “I love you, Eddie.” The words spilled out.  “I love you too. I’ve always loved you.” Eddie says, when you look back at him he smiles and brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “Do you want to go back to mine?” He asks, it's like he read your mind. You nod in response and Eddie chuckles. “Let's get out of here.”

[satlun]

Vacation Boy: Johnny Utah x fem!reader

Genre: slow burn, fluff, and definitely angst Trigger Warnings: Johnny Utah's sweetness

It was a hot summer day in the middle of July that you will always remember.

Author's Note: I really love this one. I feel like I really wrote it down from my heart. It's like I put my soul into it. Yeah, I hope you guys enjoy!! ♥️

April 18, 1992 at New York

It is a move-in day for the new job you just got here after graduation, at the big city. You drop your bags and luggage on the floor immediately right at the moment you close your apartment's door. Five-hour flight from Idaho and you just finished moving your stuff in, you're really tired.

Your eyes look around the apartment. It a mess, you can't even have a bed or even a space on the floor to sleep on. You just bought a new bed today and it will deliver within two days, guess you have to sleep on the floor tonight. How bad. You kick the boxes away from your way before stepping in the middle of your room, looking around and thinking which box you should open first or maybe you just move them to one of the corners and open them tomorrow. You sigh.

And another thought kick in, maybe you should open them now before the delivery delivers your bed which is so big, too big for one person but you don't care actually. You sit down on the floor that have many boxes around you. You decide to open the boxes that you packed up your clothes first. You put your clothes into your closet and dress up at the same time. Some clothes you haven't wear it since you bought them and some clothes you haven't seen them but your mom probably packed them for you? You try the new ones on while looking at the mirror. Your eyes admire the dress you're wearing on until your gaze spots the box that says “old stuffs” through the mirror. You turn around and walk to it. You're a person who loves keeping things as your memories, postcards, letters and souvenirs.

The box that full of stuff you have collected, you smile while picking them up. Your old memories start to come into your mind. You really love this feeling, it is good if you understand. The feeling and the emotion during those moments will come across your mind. You grab many things out of the box until the last piece, your old diary which there is no page left.

You open shortly from the first page until the last page. Your eyes roam through it until you spot one page on 17th July last year.

July 17, 1991

I met a guy on the vacation... five days ago on 12th July at Latigo beach. He was a cool guy I met on the last day of my vacation. We talked and had a lot of fun there... he has pretty brown eyes and beautiful hair. I need to write about him before all the memories are gone. I don't want to forget about him. He's the most handsome guy with the most precious soul I have ever met. When he was in the sea, surfing was so amazing. Him and surfing was a bond. All of his friends were nice to me and they had their amazing goals. I wish he still thinks about me honestly even I am not that pretty but he really gets my heart...

You are lost in your memories, all the feelings get back to your mind. The beach, the wind, the sun and him...

...

It was a hot summer day of the mid July at California and it was the last day of your vacation. The sun didn't rise yet since it was only 6am in the morning. You walked down the stairs from the road to the beach alone since your parents were still asleep. You wanted to see sunrise at the beach before you leave because first you had to leave so early in the next morning second Idaho doesn't have beaches third you don't go to beaches so often even beach is your favorite place.

Your eyes looked around the beach. There was no one here except a guy around your age surfing alone in the sea at this early?? Well, that was quite interesting. The water must be so cool sine the sun didn't rise yet. That was what you thought. You sat down on the sand with your casual clothes which actually were the clothes you wore last night. The beach was very quiet that you could only hear the wave and the wind, so peaceful. You always love California because your dad talked about it a lot and his favorite song is Hotel California by Eagles which your dad always listens to it since you were young. You wished you could stay here forever, you would build a small house next to the beach and you might actually start learning how to surf. You thought it was cool, how come people stand on those boards and surf on big waves? That must relate with physics but it was still cool for you. You really wanted to learn it one day.

After a while of sitting and glancing at him time to time. You know it was hard to look somewhere else when no one was there except this guy. You could say, he wasn't that good in surfing but you didn't want to judge anybody so you tried to stop thinking about this mysterious stranger guy. You distracted yourself by looking at the sun which was starting to rise. Just a little.

Right now, the guy was swimming closer to the shore. You feel a little bit nervous because there was only you here all alone and what if he says, “You stared at me. Are you a psycho?” What are you gonna do! You just hoped that he didn't notice that which was impossible. He was now walking up to the beach, seems like he was walking to you. Oh my- you felt like you just wanted to disappear. Please please please, I didn't mean to stare... what? Did he just give you a smile?

“Hi?” The guy looked down at you with a soft smile while the sky was starting to become yellow. “Hi” You answered as he slowly sat down next to you, not close. It's good since he was a completely a stranger, not bad for the first impression. “What brings you here this early?” He looked at you before rubbing his head with a towel. “The sun... and what about you?” You looked at him with his wet hair, he didn't look at you but the sun. It was raising. “If I say myself?” He said and finally looked at you once again. What does it mean ‘myself’? “You mean– you, yourself just want to be here this early. That's all?” His eyebrows raised. “A shot in the dark.” He chuckled. “It's not that hard.” You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a smile and the conversation became silent, it was awkward and he was just wiping his face with the towel. “You surf a lot?” It was a dumb question actually but who cares, you hate dead air. “Lately, yes. I'm practicing it. I just caught my first tube this morning.” You just nodded and then continued the conversation. “I always appreciate people who can surf... you know. How can people stand on that board and surf in big waves? It is just cool for me.” His chuckle was so cute... what? You mean it was soft and whatever. As if he could read your mind. “It must be something about physics but I don't know, not my type.” Not his type? It was a joke he meant he didn't even care about physics since it wasn't his favorite subject. “Then what's your type?” He could answer it in a second. “Athletic” It was obvious that he liked athletic, his body and his spirit? “I see...” The sun rose now. You could see it clearly now. You glances at your watch and it was 7am. “You live here?” His soft and deep voice interrupted you. “No. I'm on my vacation, tomorrow is my last day.” He nodded before giving you a glance. “How was your vacation?” He asked. “It was good. I had a lot of fun here.” You always love it. Everything all just gave you peace to your mind and soul. It was like another kind of healing. “I'm glad you had a lot of fun here.” His beautiful smile formed on his face again. Your heart almost skipped a beat but you tried to keep it cool. You glanced at his board. “I wish I could surf.” He believes that the only thing that is matter is ourselves. If you want to do something, you should do it. “You can try. Just do it. Do it for yourself.” You sighed in desperation. “I want to... but there's no beach back in Idaho.” “You are from Idaho?” He raised his eyebrows. “Yes” You looked at him. “I've never been there but I would love to one day.” “You should. It's great. I can tour you around.” It was a joke but what if it sounds weird... “Yeah. It would be nice.” He smiled at you and all of your concerns were gone. He is the kind of person who makes you feel comfortable while you're talking to. “It may have indoor surfing places in Idaho maybe?” he gave you an advice. “I think it has but it can't be campared to this actual sea right?" You span your arms to the sea. “The real waves and the real sea water.” His eyes followed your hand and nodded. “Yeah. You're right. This one is better.” He gave you a smile while looking at you.

For a moment, you saw him glancing at his watch, it almost 8am and he seemed like he needed to go. He grabbed his surf board and stood up, ready to leave. “Do you wanna... eat lunch together?” Did he just ask me on a date or something? Your delusions consumed you again. You hesitated at first because you just had no idea about your answer if it should be; “Yes, of course I'm so glad you ask me!!” Or “Okay, sure.” Or “no... I already have a plan” because he is still a random guy that you just met. However, he had no harm you could feel it. So, your answer was, “Sounds good. Sure. Where?” He pointed at the sidewalk restaurant near the beach which was still close now. “There” you stood up and followed his finger. “Okay. 12pm?” You asked “Yeah. 12pm.” He was about to leave but something made him stop and turn around. “I'm Johnny.” That was it, you thought he wouldn't tell you his name. “Y/n. Nice to meet you.” You gave him a quick smile. “Same here.” He gave you a soft smile like the first time he did before leaving.

...

11.50am at California State was really hot. Your face was so sweaty, your legs rushed to the door of the sidewalk restaurant and got in. The restaurant was still hot because there was no air conditioning. You sit on a table, waiting for Johnny to come. Your clothes were changed to something prettier. Well, you didn't mean to impress anyone but yourself. Right?.... RIGHT?

After a while of waiting for him and it was already 12pm, he finally showed up in a tight grey shirt which made him look different in good way. His hair was now dry and was set perfectly. He literally could pull anybody he wanted. That was your weird thought. When Johnny spot you, he rushed to you with the same soft smile immediately. You didn't know if it was the weather or it was him that made your heart melt.

“Have you been here long?” He sat down in front of you as you shook your head. “No. Not at all.” Johnny nodded as an answer before picking up a menu. “What would you like to eat today?” When it comes to food, it always be a hard decision to make. Usually, you just order the same same thing but maybe this time you should try something different. “I have no idea... could you recommend me something good?” He gave you a smile and show the menu for you. He pointed his finger on shrimp and fries. “Sure. This. Is my favorite.” It sounds good shrimp and fries. You gave him a nod and smiled at him. He has a good taste in food. “Shrimp and fries, 2 please?” Johnny called a waitress and ordered the food for you and him. It was not a date right? But you couldn't help to think it that way. He set his hair perfectly... it wasn't that necessary to do it just for eating lunch in this weather with a girl he just met. Whatever.

After the waitress went to the kitchen, Johnny started talking to you. “Where did you visit this morning?” He shot you a question. “Santa Monica Pier. There are amusement rides and many other things.” You explained to him while your eyes are looking around the restaurant and switch to him time to time. It was hard to just stare and focus on him. You meant he was kind of... handsome? It was just hard you know. “That is my favorite place when I was a kid. You like to play something exciting?” He raised his eyebrows because that is his favorite thing as well. “Oh no. Not at all. But my younger brother does so he dragged me there.” Johnny laughed at your answer. “You have a younger brother? I wish I had one.” He gave you a smile before looking out the window, watching other kids playing around the beach. “Oh please. You wouldn't like it that much.” You chuckled. “How come?” He was curious. “He is naughty and ugh so on. You will understand if you have one.” You paused for a moment before continuing to speak. “But I do wish I had an older brother.” Johnny switched his gaze on you again. He noticed your eyes that full are full of hope. “So you're the oldest?” He asked. “Yeah.” He inhaled and exhaled softly as he put his hands on the table. “Being the oldest must be very hard. You know, they have to be good at everything and also have responsibility at the same time. And we are just teenagers who just want to have fun.” He paused and notice that you were listening to him carefully so he started to tell you more about him. “I really understand that feeling. I'm an only child and the things aren't that different.” All the things he said was just right. You the oldest and it feels like everything or every weight is on your back. You have to handle it. You must. “As if you can read my mind.” You chuckled to make the conversation felt less intense. Johnny flashed his soft smile at you again. That was his deadly weapon of killing you. “How many years apart are you and your brother?” You didn't expect that even you were about to ask him about his age either. “11 years. I'm 22 and he's 11.” Johnny nodded as the waitress served us our food. “I'm 24... let's eat.” You both smiled at each other before eating his favorite food. You hadn't tried it before and it was better than you expected. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone or the same thing you usually do aren't that bad. You try something new and you may accidentally found your new favorite things.

30 minutes later of talking and eating food, you both stepped out of the sidewalk restaurant. You looked out at the sea which the surface was reflecting the sun and the heat. “So... me and my new friends have a party tonight and the beach... if you want to join you can come.” He interrupted you. “Thank you but... I don't want to interrupt your party...” You chuckled at him. The truth was you just hate meeting new people sine you have social anxiety. “It's alright. Never mind.” He seemed like he was about to leave. So, this was gonna be your last time of seeing him?? That's it? “Maybe it's not that bad– I'll go.” His smile was formed from excitement you could tell. You wished you could make him smile forever, it was like sunshine in a daylight sky. “See you there at 7pm.” Johnny pointed at some space at the beach, and you nodded as understanding.

...

The weather is completely different from the day and the night. The wind makes you feel cold. Both of your hand brush your arm while walking down the stairs. You can see a group of teenagers walking and dancing around a bonfire at the beach. It must be them, his new friends. You just hope that he was already there because it was gonna be weird if a stranger showed up at Mr.Nobody's party.

That moment Johnny saw you first. He stood up and rushed to you immediately, noticing your reaction. “Are you cold?” You just nodded and walked along with him. “Come closer to the bonfire.” He led you to the bonfire that was around by his friends. You sit down on the log he already prepared for you. Suddenly, all of his friends noticed your presence. They walked to you and started to talk. “This is Bodhi. Bodhi, this is y/n.” Johnny introduced you to the man who was a bit older than him and his blond hair was really memorizing. “Nice to meet you, Bodhi.” Bodhi just nodded before sitting next to Johnny. “Your girlfriend?” Johnny refused immediately. He didn't want you to make you feel uncomfortable at all but it was also still hard to control his friend's mouth. “No. She's my new friend.” His deep voice and the reaction of protecting over you was a thing. “I'm sorry for my mouth.” Bodhi made a joke before offering his hand to you, you shook his hand and gave a quick smile.

Bodhi was scary for you at first. However, the moment after you both had a conversation about many things, especially the 50 year storm. You started to see him differently. He wasn't that bad. He was a cool guy. You loved when he talked about the ocean and the sea. As if he was a son of a mermaid or something. His spirit that he had towards the marine life was just really cool. He was a cool guy with his big goal. You just hoped that if that time comes, he would be able to go to Bell's beach in time and achieve the ultimate ride.

An hour later, the boys and the girls decided to play football. “Come, y/n” Bodhi called you while holding a ball in his hand. “Thank you... but I prefer to watch.” Well, because you're not good at athletic at all. You didn't want to embarrass yourself as well so refusing him was the best choice. “Come on.” Bodhi tried to convince you and Johnny noticed that. He walked to you and said something quietly. “If you don't want to, it's okay. I'll talk to him.” When you heard him saying that, all the thoughts you had towards athletes were changed. Well, Johnny really affected on you that much. You hesitated for a moment and then you realized that you wanted to get out of your comfort zone and tried something new. If you accidentally embarrassed yourself then it was going to be alright since this was the last night of staying here. They were not going to remember your embarrassing moments forever. You didn't answer him back except walking into the crowd, ready to join. A smile formed on his face while his eyes followed you.

You started to play clumsily. It was kind of embarrassing but whatever. You tried to not care and it seemed work. Fun made you forget all about those thoughts. You played and you fell off over and over but you could still laugh and smile because it was really fun. Johnny always cheered you up for the whole game. “You're doing great.” Or “Keep going.” He said softly to you for the whole time.

Almost an hour later. It was 9pm. It was the time to go back to the hotel. You had to leave early in the morning and your parents must be worried about you now. “Are you leaving?” Johnny noticed that you started to look back at the hotel and wipe all the sand from your pants. “Yeah” you said. “Safe flight, y/n!” Bodhi and his friends shouted at you. You just said thank you to all of them. “I'll walk with you.” Johnny said quietly. You insisted him to stay here but he didn't listen. It was completely dark and he was worried about you.

The only sound you could hear is the waves. It was not totally dark, it still has light along the road. He was walking along the beach with you. You talked about how fun it was and how cool his friends were. He chuckled with every word you said. “So, I hope it will be one of your best memories of traveling here.” Johnny looked at you while your hair was flowing because of the wind. “It definitely is... thank you, Johnny... you really made my vacation so special.” Johnny nodded and smiled. “No problem. You deserve it.” You smiled and looked over the sea, thinking about tomorrow. You had to leave very early and you didn't think that you would see him again. “What time will you leave tomorrow?” Johnny interrupted your thoughts. “6am. I don't want to leave.” You sighed. “I wish you could stay here forever too.” That moment your heart was beating so fast. His voice, his words and the atmosphere. As if he was about to say something and you didn't want to ask him either. If he wanted he would. “I will come. Tomorrow. 6am to send you.” You raised your eyebrows immediately. Gosh, you thought this was gonna be the last time you saw him. You flashed a happy face to him. “Thank you, Johnny. It's kind of weird that I just know you for a day but... you know I feel comfortable around you and... I feel like I could talk about anything with you.” Johnny chuckled and looked at the sand that was stepped by our feet. “I feel that way too. I'm glad I know you.” And you said back immediately. “I'm glad that you said ‘hi’ to me.” You both laughed. “I saw you glanced at me... maybe you just wanted to talk?” You were caught off guard. He noticed that you actually glanced at him tome to time while he was surfing. “There was nobody there except a guy surfing. You can't blame me.” You both laughed out loud. “Sure. I can't blame you for looking at this good surfing man.” You just shook your head and shrugged your shoulders. “Don't stop alright?” He's confused. “Stop what?” “Surfing. You seem... very happy and– very concentrated while surfing. It is like you are in your own world. I think surfing really matches you.” Johnny nodded and smiled. “Sure. I will keep that in mind.”

You both finally arrived at the front of your hotel. You turn around to see him again before walking into the building. “Good night, Johnny.” He sighed and smiled at you. “Good night, y/n. See you tomorrow.” You smiled back and walked into the building, you walked and turn back and walked again. Johnny laughed at your actions. He waited for you until the elevator's doors closed and gave you a smile as you did the same then he finally turned around and walked away.

...

The next morning at 5:45am. You were waiting your parents and your brother to put the luggage into the car. You said to them that you wanted to see the beach for the last time and you would be back by 6am.

You ran across the road, down to the beach, looking around hoping to see him sitting somewhere waiting for you but there was no sign of him at all. You waited and waited and waited... 5:48... 5:54... 5:58... 6:00... he didn't come as he said... as if it was all just a dream you had last night. As if it wasn't real. As if it hadn't happened... you lost in your thoughts while turning around to find him every direction. There was no one, only the sea and you.

You gave up and left.

...

July 17, 1991

I met a guy on the vacation... five days ago on 12th July at Latigo beach. He was a cool guy I met on the last day of my vacation. We talked and had a lot of fun there... he has pretty brown eyes and beautiful hair. I need to write about him before all the memories are gone. I don't want to forget about him. He's the most handsome guy with the most precious soul I have ever met. When he was in the sea, surfing was so amazing. Him and surfing was a bond. All of his friends were nice to me and they had their amazing goals. I wish he still thinks about me honestly even I am not that pretty but he really gets my heart. I can't forget him and I will never forget... but why? Why didn't you come? Why didn't you send me? Why? Why Johnny...? I waited but you didn't come... you didn't...

You close your diary and smile to yourself in tears. Nothing you can do except the memories that have left in your mind. You will never be able to forget him. His smile, his eyes and his spirit. You don't think you will ever find anyone like him anymore. You wish you could go back in that time to see him again, to start it all over again.

How is he now? What is he doing? Is he still live in California? Does he still remember you? These thoughts don't stop coming across your mind. All you can do is imagine, imagine that he is alright, he is still surfing, he is still in California and he is still remember you. And you will never know that your imaginations are true or not...

END (Don't be sad I still have end credits down below)

...

Fun facts: you can skip this part lol. It's not necessary.

The diary part was inspired from my own diary that I wrote about a foreign man I met a year ago at a beach. This is the actual text: Monday, 17 July 2023 I'mma talk about my vacation boy that I met him on 12 July at ____ beach. Damn, he's my type. We accidentally made eye contact two times. He has tanned skin and pretty face. I can't remember him now omg and I have short sighted and that's fucking bad. I couldn't see him clearly. I just know that he's the most handsome boy that I've ever met on this trip. He was in the sea with an old man (his father?) I actually think he has a brother too. I just realized that these two boys were the boys that I adored when I first got to this beach before finding other beaches to swim on this island. Wish he still remembers me. Honestly, I'm not that pretty but he got my heart. I can't get him out of my mind, almost two fucking days now. Author's Note: It's really cringe but I think it's funny so I would like to share with you lol.

I love writing diary because I always forget get things so I think it's nice if I just write them down

I really have a box full of stuff, post card, and letters from my friends. I love collecting them.

My father actually loves Hotel California by Eagles and I do love California too, one of the places that I would like to live.

I wish I had an older brother 😭

Someone told me that being an only child means you have to be good at everything. It used to encourage me but at some point I felt like I'm just a girl you know I can't be good at everything. What are you expecting from me??? It's like the only child/ the oldest child thing if you know you know.

...

End credit? YES.

“Jesus! What time is it??” Johnny shouted at one of his colleagues. “It's only 7am, dude.” It pissed him off. “Fuck!” He had an urgent case this morning at 4:30am. He needed to come to the office and worked on it until the time flew so fast that he didn't notice it at first. “Why you look so hurry, man?" The guy spoke calmly to him. “I gotta go.” He grabbed his things, rushing out of the door and left the office immediately. He got the urgent case and he didn't come to surf this morning like usual. Today is also the day you left and he planned to come and sent you. He didn't even give you his contact which was the worst mistake he ever made.

It was raining when he arrived at the beach, running down the stairs and you weren't there. He looked around hoping that you might still here, sitting somewhere at the beach but then he realized that it was impossible. You were actually gone and gone forever... he looked around with tears in his eyes, trying to find you. Then, he realized that he will never see you again. The most beautiful woman with the most lovely soul he had ever met. Your laugh, your eyes, your face, your lips, everything about you is breathtaking and he will never forget those things no matter how many years will pass. This beautiful soul will be kept in his heart forever...

END (I think the end credits made it sadder.)

© satlun, 2024 : DO NOT PLAGIARISM OR ANY OTHER WAY OF REPHRASING

[billthedrake]

SLUT SHORTS

It was another of those nights. He was working late, I had made a quick and easy dinner for myself before plopping myself on the couch - muted playoffs hockey on the TV, laptop open to study for my CFA exam. I was planning to take it in two weeks.

I almost didn't hear Dad come in, until he was behind me.

"Hey Evan," he said, stepping up and placing his hands on my shoulder. Dad has strong hands, and they felt great on my tense delts. "Rangers behind already? Shit!" he said.

I looked back over my shoulder. Dad was mostly business casual these days, but he looked hot as fuck. He'd been a hockey player himself in college, and still played in the rec leagues. 6'1" and a solid 210 at 44, he filled out his button down pretty well. He even had to get those special trousers with more room in the thighs and butt.

"Yeah, fraid so," I said. "Long day, Dad?"

He gave a nod and let out a sigh. "Pretty much." He let go of his light grip on my shoulders and gave me a pat. "I'm gonna shower up... maybe someone will score a fucking goal in the meantime."

I laughed. "Don't hold your breath," I said.

I watched a little of the game and went back to studying.

Dad's not my father. He's not even my step dad. But Stephen Bennett and I had been dating for five years and had drifted pretty comfortably into where we were now. Heavy roleplay now colored our identies around the house. I was his Son, and Stephen was my Dad. At first he was responding to my kink, but eventually he began to own that identity himself, to embrace his Dadness with me and around me. He even took the lead in pushing the kink with me.

It was hot in the bedroom, but we'd grown more comfortable with it even on normal nights like this.

Or maybe it wasn't a normal night. When Dad walked in, he was half naked, the chest hair hair still damp from his shower and his thinning hair neatly gelled. But it was those fucking shorts that caught my attention.

They were an orange pair of athletic shorts from his college days, with a black and white stripe on the sides and "Princeton" written in small lettering on the leg. I'd first seen them one day when Stephen had slipped them on for some work around the condo. He'd chuckled at how much they turned me on. But if those shorts had ever been a little loose on the guy, they fucking clung to his bigger, middle-aged muscle these days. Hugging Dad's thighs and molding to that meaty ex-hockey jock ass.

Like they did now as Dad walked past me and sat on the couch next to me. He was acting dumb and waiting for my reaction, which was kind of adorable.

I took a look at him, his attention on the TV. I knew he had to be pretty damn horny to want sex over the Rangers in the playoffs, but it had been a few days, and even that had been a quickie BJ swap before work.

I was in some casual sweats, and I was boning up fast. One thing we'd had to negotiate as a couple was that my libido was stronger than his. Not that Stephen lacked sex drive, but well, I was 28 and maybe genetically swimming in hormones to begin with. Three days was way too long to go without sex and my cock was now rock hard and throbbing even at the idea.

And yeah, those shorts were turning me the fuck on. Now that Dad was sitting, leaning forward a little as he watched the game, the hem rode up the thighs, showing off the man's hairy legs. I was hard wired for older guys for a million reasons, but legs like that were one of them. They were an older man's legs, a dad's legs. Even the curly-soft leg for a middle-aged man was different than a younger guy's.

"In the fucking goal!" he swore at the TV. Maybe he wasn't playing dumb, maybe he was gonna put out in another hour, after the game was over. Jesus, now I wasn't sure I could wait that long.

Dad had quickly learned how much those shorts did it for me. He'd wear them in the bedroom sometimes to spice things up. I'd branded them his "slut shorts" and the name stuck. Stephen Bennett wasn't remotely a submissive or anything - the man was too type-A and too much a control freak for that - and we were still negotiating my desire to top with his vers nature.

But from time to time he'd get in a VERY bottomy mood with me. Those shorts were our little playful code. When Dad had them on, I was gonna get majorly laid.

My laptop was open but completely ignored now as I stared at him. He had just enough of a normal look to him that made his muscular, in-shape body perfect to me. Dad had been married once, to a woman, and had one short relationship with a guy before me. But he had never done the gay scene and not really even done the apps that much. We'd met at an alumni event and had an immediate sexual chemistry. I'd just graduated from Princeton and was at my starter job in the city, and I had every bit of that D-1 jock look that Stephen went for.

"Sorry to distract you, son," Dad now grinned, turning toward me during a commercial break and acknowledging the obvious. "But I figured you could use a study break." He leaned back and stretched his arms up, revealing thick, soft pit hair and flexing his chest muscles some. I could see Dad was throwing hard in those shorts, which added to my excitement. Their snugness meant that thick dad bone showed pretty clearly.

I put my laptop on the coffee table and turned toward him, showing off my erection. "Fuck yes," I chuckled.

Dad seemed to know where my interest lay and he turned toward me. "I think your cum washed out of these," he smirked.

I'd started traveling for work some, and Dad always slipped these shorts into my bag if I had an overnight trip. Or he'd leave them out for me when he traveled. I'd jerk off into them while we FaceTimed, an incredible way to stay close to him.

I wouldn't have to settle for that now. "You wanna suck my dick, Dad?" I asked. Sometimes crude and direct didn't work for Dad, but those shorts had given me permission.

He got a hungry look in his eye. Miraculously, the Rangers were the last thing on his mind as he faced away from the TV and scooted over and down onto the floor in front of where I was sitting. His strong hands now pawed at my crotch. "My big boy need taking care of?"

I had about an inch on Dad, which turned us both on. "Yeah," I croaked.

Dad pulled my waistband over my hardon, then peeled my boxer briefs down to let me free. "That's a hard fucking cock," he grunted. I watched him look at it a second and enjoyed the feedback loop between my visible excitement and his appreciative stare. Then he leaned down and angled up my meat to start sucking me.

I could see the thinning spot on the top of his head as he started swallowing, then bobbing on my cock, and the meaty shoulders and knotted back... and past that that amazing thick ass filling out those shorts. I'm pretty sure my dick spurted a healthy amount of pre into Dad's throat as he took me deeper.

"Holy fuck, Dad!" I gasped. The man was taking me real fricking deep, all the way to the pubes. He wasn't always able to do this, at least not without tripping a defensive gag or two in the process of slowly willing himself to relax. No hesitation or gradual approach now. Dad was deep throating me, and showing off with long mouth strokes up my 7.5 inches to match the hungry descent down. Stephen must have been thinking about sex all day, he was just so keyed up now.

I ran my hands along his strong back. I felt I could nut just having him give me head, and fast. And I would have loved that. But the slut shorts were on, and I was gonna take advantage of them.

"Pull off, Dad," I urged. "Please."

Dad had to catch his breath as he wiped his chin and lips. It had been a messier blow job than he'd like. Dad was real self conscious about that for some reason. I don't know why, the thick spit on his face turned me the fuck on.

"Give me a second?" he asked, leaning back so I could see his hairy torso and that exec-handsome face.

"Sure," I said. I leaned back and let my boner pulse, wet with his viscous saliva. On top of that I was leaking hard now.

I worried, he was getting out of the mood, but he stood up and I could see that dad dick poking up his shorts. It was incredible how they fit, but barely. The fabric drew up tight against Dad's boner. He was already stepping in to rub my face into it.

I grunted as I chewed and licked at that hard ridge in the fabric. Something about these shorts, and Dad in them, connected the jocks I went to college with the draw to a paternal figure. I wish I could have seen Dad wear these when he was 20, but I was also glad he was much older than me, that I wa seeing the shorts on him now.

Dad was getting into how excited I was. Playfully he gripped the back of my head and guided me all over his own excited crotch. "That's it, Evan, buddy. See how horny you get your father."

THIS had been a surprise. How much Stephen could run with the verbal. He'd been the one initially hesitant to do the roleplay, but now he was better at the spontaneous kink talk than me. I did my best to keep up.

"Fuck yes," I hissed finally pulling off. "The dick that made me."

That got a growl from the man. "Don't forget that, son," he hissed. Then I watched as he slid down the shorts, after he worked the elastic over the hard staff of his prick. I'd never get tired of seeing Stephen's dick. I considered it cosmic fate that nature had given us two cocks that looked pretty similar, as if we were related. Dad was medium-thick and pretty evenly thick up its length, with only a slight bend to the right, like mine. Even his balls seemed to be the size and shape like mine.

I thought he was wanting some oral service himself, but his hand stopped my forward motion and even pushed me back a little, into the couch cushions.

"Lean back, son," Dad said, his voice getting that deeper lusty quality. "Daddy needs a fuck."

I looked up, horniness and maybe a little cockiness in my eye. I loved fucking Dad. If I had my way, I'd fuck him every day. But relationships aren't about getting your way all the time.

That's OK, I was gonna have a hot piece of ex-hockey ass to tap now. Dad was already straddling my waist. In his worked up, power-bottom mode I didn't get to see nearly enough. His body felt warm, maybe a little damp from the shower still. He'd started wearing my actual father's cologne and had it on now, and the scent hit my nostrils like poppers. Next to his slut shorts, that smell was one of my big triggers.

I was still mostly clothed, with a T-shirt on and sweatpants pulled down mid-thigh. But Dad wasn't gonna let me strip off. His lips met mine hungrily, and his hands gripped my neck to pull me into the liplock.

I ran my hands along his leg fur, appreciating that strong muscle beneath. And yeah, I felt up that hockey-playing ass.

Dad was now humping me, running his ass along my boner as we made out. He was usually too self conscious to do anything like this, anything so slutty. But he was all in now.

I grunted into his mouth and pawed at every bit of daddy that I could. This had the sexual attraction and horniness of our first time having sex together, combined with the sexual chemistry we'd honed over the last few years.

Dad knew I loved to eat him out, but he also knew he was too worked up to take slow tonight. I could feel the slickness of lube in his crack and against my prick now.

I'd barely registered the implications of that before Dad broke the kiss and leaned back a little, just enough to be able to reach back and grab my prick and pull it up. He angled his hips up and adjusted his alignment.

I watched, keeping still, letting him guide me in. Then I saw Dad's face get that succession of reactions to the penetration. At last there was that knowing smile he'd get when he'd gotten past the difficult part.

"You glad to be back home, Baby boy?" he hissed.

"Yes, sir," I growled. "You have no idea." I placed my hands on his outer thighs to feel his up and down motion. The feeling of his hole was snug and amazing.

"I have a hunch," he replied. Getting more vigorous in his ride. He'd gone from 0 to 60 pretty fast. We were fucking. "My hot incest fucker."

"Jesus," I said, amazed how Dad knew what to say to work me up. He'd been reading porn stories or something, because his imagination caught me off guard.

Dad rode me and we kissed again. That was great, but Dad found the more upright seated position easier so he retreated to that. His hand was a little lubey now and that helped him stroke himself in time to his bouncing.

I now met him half way, pushing my hips up into him in time to meet his own downward bounce. "I love fucking you, Dad. So much."

His lips curled up. "Yeah, I know you do, son. Love your father's tight hole.... You've been working so hard, studying so hard... you deserve a treat... for being a good fucking boy."

God Stephen knew how to get me there. My cock felt slicker from my precum and I was thrusting into him harder, taking over more than 50 percent of this fuck. "Yeah, I am," I replied. I wished I was actually better at the verbal, but I at least wanted to encourage Dad in this. "Your good son."

"Yeah... you're gonna ace that exam... make your daddy proud."

"Yessir!" I grunted. God he was getting me closer now.

"Is that what you want, son? To make your Dad proud?"

"I do sir," I replied. "So bad."

The man's voice was getting more strained as he rode me, relishing the deep and hard penetration and what it was doing to his inner spot. "Proud... Just like when you won that golf scholarship.... Just like when you throw me one of those Big Boy fucks..."

I thought his sex talk was for my benefit mostly, but I watched his face scrunch and then heard him let out a short, loud cry. And then Dad's dick started spray his seed all over me. Hard, hot, spray that landed in a thick ropes on my T-shirt, soaking it.

"Oh fuck, Dad!" I cried, feeling my own cum hit me as I started seeding his tight ass.

My hips stopped and his riding slowed down, until he rested in my lap momentarily, just enjoying that moment before it was time to climb off. "Thanks, Evan," he said. "I needed that."

I watched with some disappointment as Dad got up, steadying his body before he found his discarded shorts and picked them up. "I'm gonna clean up, OK, buddy?"

This was the thing we'd been working on. When we started I was his buddy, his big guy, his special dude during the sex act, but Evan afterwards. Now we'd learned to extend it afterward. Of not automatically switching back to our "real" selves.

"Yeah," I said, patting his calf muscle as I leaned up. I saw the glob of dad sperm on his knuckle and impetuously decided to lick it off. Dad turned his hand to let me and chuckled a little. After I'd sampled his sperm, he patted me on the side of my head.

"I love you, buddy," he said softly.

"Love you, Dad," I replied.

He went to shower, and I pulled my sweats back up over my lubed and spermy dong. I'd change in a bit, but for now, I relished being covered in my father's seed. And I was enjoying the moment of relaxation.

The Rangers had scored one but were still behind. My laptop was in sleep mode, neglected. I probably wouldn't get much studying done tonight.

Dad walked in, those shorts back on.

He didn't play dumb this time. "I figured you'd have another in the tanks for later. But OK if I watch the game first?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Dad," I said, putting my arm on the back of the couch as an invitation for him to sit close to me. He did and I enjoyed his warmth and more mature body next to mine. I threw hard again a couple of times during the rest of the game, just feeling him like that and seeing those shorts on him.

But no need to rush things. I had my father right there next to me.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Try Me Part 1/6

Here we go! Get ready for coach Ruben 😆

Summary - Reader is a very passionate football player and Ruben is her new and equally passionate football coach. However, the two of them can't seem to get along.

Enjoy!

"Pass the ball!"

You were flying, that was the feeling.

"Come on Y/N, pass me the ball I'm open!"

Your touch on the ball was magic, you were flying down the field. Your teammates couldn't keep up.

"Y/N!" The coach yelled. "Pass her the fucking ball!" Or he wasn't really your coach, but his assistant. He often used words like "fucking and bloody, followed by another set of curse words in another language." He was nearly your age only a few years older. It was hard to take anything he said seriously.

"She shoots, she scores!" You said and so you did, celebrating your magnificent goal with a tumble of cartwheels. It was the game winner, setting your team up for a great start in the summer cup group stage.

In midst of celebrating the victory with your team, you were suprised to be pulled aside by coach, or not really coach, Ruben was his name.

"What the hell was that?"

"What?"

"That!" He pointed to the goal where you just scored the goal of your life, however, instead looking impressed his face boiled with rage.

"Oh that. It was the game winner coach." Compared to your teammates you called him coach, but in a way that he knew that you were mocking him.

"Yeah, well, if you pull that shit again you can kiss the bench, because that's the only place I'll be putting you if you wanna play for my team."

"You can't bench me." You frowned. "I'm the best player on the squad."

"Unless you get rid of that bad attitude of yours, I'll do whatever I want with you."

"I bet you like it though?" You challengend, your face in his face.

He raised his brow in suprise.

"I found your profile on Tinder, cute pics by the way. A bit inappropriate, but cute."

He worked his jaw, probably fighting the urge to lose his composure with you, his trainee.

It wasn't you who found his Tinder profile. All the girls had a laugh about it in the locker room the other day. You held the phone though, while you're teammates begged for you to swipe right.

"Fuck it." He snorted. "I'm benching your ass the next game."

"You can't speak to me like that!"

"Well, I just did!"

He turned his back on you and walked away, leaving you stranded on the football field.

You longed for a shower once you got home. However the hot water was out, probably because your six year old step sister was splashing away in the tub. The water was cold when you pulled her out.

"Dad?" You entered the kitchen, Mimi in your arms, wrapped up in a towel. Your dad and his friends sat around the table playing cards, a cloud of cigarette smoke hovering above their heads.

"Dad?" He hadn't heard you the first time, the second time made him turn his head.

"Y/N, you're home. Great!" The cigarette stump bounced between his lips when he talked. "Go down to the corner shop will you, get me and Bubby a pack of Camel Blue. And how about some crisps for the beer? We've got guests coming over later."

"Dad, for how long did you leave Mimi in the tub?" You said, ignoring his request.

He frowned. "I didn't leave Mimi in no tub. She probably climbed in there herself, like she always do my good furniture. Ain't that right my sweet  Mimi?"

"Yes!" She happily exclaimed. She loved it when he called her that, sweet Mimi. You used to be sweet Y/N when you were the youngest. Now you were just the forgotten middle child, Mimi's babysitter.

"Let's get you cleaned up." You said,  drying her wet nose with the towel.

"Don't forget about the cigaretts!" Your dad called after you.

You and Mimi shared rooms whilst the others had their own. You had two older brothers, all with the same father but different mother's. Or, it was only you with a different mother. Mimi, Benji and Charles all shared the same parents. Right around when the boys were ten and fourteen their dad would go on to cheat on their mother with your mother, their next door neighbor. You all grew up around the same estate, until your mother passed away with cancer and you had to move in with them. Their mother eventually bailed too, but not because of cancer, she just hated your dad, leaving Benji, Charles and sweet Mimi behind.

"Daddy's friends are coming" Mimi said. You finished putting lotion on her body, moving on to her drawer to pull out a dress for her to wear.

"Yes." You nodded. "They're coming over tonight. But we'll stay in the room and watch Princess and the frog like we always do, okay?"

"Okay. I just don't like it when they shout."

You pulled the dress over her head, kissing the top of it. "Me neither Mimi, me neither."

After dinner you had Mimi come with you to the corner shop. It was not a good idea for her to be alone when your dad's friends came over.

"Can I have a lolly?" She asked.

"Just the one." You let her choose which ever flavour she liked.

"Y/N! How is football going?" Amin asked. He was the owner of the corner shop. Him and his family lived a floor below yours.

"It's going good. Our team is the top of our group. Hopefully we'll win it going on to the next round."

"Rember our deal." He smiled. "If your team makes it to the summer cup final, I'll bet good money on you to score and share the cut with you."

"How can I forget." You laughed. You needed that money to by new football cleats for the upcoming season.

"Bye Amin! Say hello to your wife from me."

"I will, have a good night girls."

"Thanks for the lolly!" Mimi pulled the candy from her mouth, waving it in the air.

You locked yourself in your bedroom once you got home. You let your computer rest on top of your bed whilst you climbed in to lay with Mimi in hers. There you lay watching Princess and The Frog, putting the movie on repeat until Mimi fell asleep. It wasn't difficult to ignore the drunken laughter happening outside the door.  Occasionally someone would pull the handle and give Mimi a fright. But you had taught her to laugh at the muffled up curse words of whichever alcholic got it wrong on their way to the bathroom.

It wasn't ideal, but it was your life. Football made it better though, football made your life worth living.

You pulled out your phone, careful not to wake up Mimi whose limp body lay beside you. You opened up Tinder, suprised to be notified about a message from your latest match.

It was Ruben, sending you a winking smiley face.

You slapped your hand against your mouth, smothering your astonished gasped. The fake profile your teammates made must have really caught his eye, because there he was, in your DM's. You thought about earlier today, muttering "No one puts me on the bench."

Your heart raised, typing out the message, a message Ruben was going to regret answering, if he was bold enough. It read:

I like guys with big eggplants. Do you have a big eggplant? 😘

Taglist:

@kathb59

[thirsty-lakedream]

A Frat of My Own (Pt. 2)

Part 1

When the doorbell rang, I had all my loyal frat boys getting ready for the house party. At the sound, everyone turned to me abnormally, halting all action. I, still comfortably piloting the Frat President, gave them a confirming nod and they all continued their work, returning to act completely natural. I pulled out all the stops for my plan, even making a remote link to control all my bots at to work under my bidding without need of programming or vocal commands. I made my way to the door, another impatient ring followed by a powerful knock. Opening the entrance, sure enough I saw him, Zane Rushmore. He looked just like how he did all those years ago, even wearing an old AZR sweatshirt.

“Zane my bro, welcome back to the haus!” I said with my deep cocky voice. Deep down inside though, I wanted to punch him right there. But I knew that following my grand plan would be much sweeter.

He replied with the brash arrogance I knew him for. “So your the new head of the Alpha Zeta Rho?” He looked me up and down. Matt made me roughly his size and height, but he still made me nervous. Luckily I fixed Matt facial reflection to not display my own fear. “Alright chill, glad to be back.” He put his hand out and we did the frat’s signature handshake. I never took the time to learn it, but Matt’s programming automatically led my hands to do it with no issue. “Here,” I welcomed him in, but he hardly litened as he pushed himself into the house “let me introduce you to the guys.”

I took him around, showing him the set up and having my loyal androids make him feel at home. They all praised him and his past exploits. In truth I used that to give him a sense of comfort, all part of the plan.

As the sun went down and people from all over campus arrived, the party gradually grew into an all out rager. I had to keep up appearances as the frat leader, but couldn’t risk getting drunk that I spoil my own plan. I installed a receptacle tube just for that purpose, so all the jungle juice Matt impressively drank sat comfortably in a bladder by my stomach.

I didn’t let Zane out of my sight. Either sticking with him as Matt or commanding one of the frats loyal pledges to do whatever he asked. We served him like he was a king, getting him anything he asked for. The goal was to get him absolutely sloshed and eventually, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was running out of steam and drunk out of his mind.

I sent the command to Eric to initiate the next step. From across the room, I watched our star football star ‘accidentally’ poured his solo cup over Zane right as he was talking to some hot sorority chick. “What the hell man?” Zane was about to throw hands at Eric, but I made my way over, feigning sympathy. “Ah bro I’m so sorry. Here follow me, you can borrow some of my clothes.”

I led him up the stairs just outside my bedroom door. On our way here, I took notice of how he swayed as he moved. Poor guy, he wasn’t the once great douche he once was, can’t even hold his alcohol with dignity. Luckily that meant I wouldn’t even have to use the tranquilizer on him.

I opened the door for him and he stumbled in. He examined the room, confused to find it to be more of a lab then a bedroom. In the middle, something stood underneath a white sheet. Before he knew it I grabbed him from behind, forcing him onto the ground. Even in his drunken state, he put up a good fight. Still, he was no match for my hydronic mechanical suit and I was able to subdue him. Quickly I tied him up then sent a command to my boys. One by one each of them marched into my room like toy soldiers, surrounding Zane on all sides. Eric was left outside to keep watch just in case, protecting the door from any suspicious people.

The look of my bully’s face when he woke up finding him bound and encircled was priceless. I stood in front of him, glaring with the same cockiness he once had at me. “What is this? Some kind of practical joke!” He was looking at everyone for a response, but my boys all held a cold stoic face.

“What’s wrong Zane? Feeling weak? Humiliated? We’ll good. This is exactly how I felt all those years ago.” Pressing upon my chest, I entered the unlocking sequence. Matt’s robotic body split in two, and in a steamy burst, i revealed my true self. Zane looked in horror as I climbed out of the metallic shell of the fraternity president.

“Who are you?”

“Hm not surprised you don’t remember me. But it doesn’t matter, all that matters is that I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.” I pulled off the tarp and revealed to him another android.” Unlike most my bots, this one resembles more of a muscley twink. He barely looked in college with a boyish face and short blonde hair. “Boys, help him in to his new look.” At a snap of a finger the frat bros picked up Zane and dragged him over. He tried to scream for help, but the blaring trap music downstairs perfectly frowned out any of his annoying whines. Try as he might to resist, my boys fed his stocky legs and body into the smaller robot’s frame

It took a long while for me to build his new form. Fitting a smaller person into a bigger body was no problem, but vise versa was a little more difficult. Luckily with forced perspective and a bit of squeezing, they managed to stuff him comfortably into the android, closing the barn-door like entry. With him closed in, it shook like a person trying to escape a coffin, the robot still blankly staring. I made my way over to my computer where the bot was was hooked up. Typing in the final code into his programming, I finished the the hypnosis command and pressed enter. Another new development of my own creation, perfect for keeping the wearer inside. As the robot whirled to life, very subtly I could see swirls reflecting from the screens within. Slowly the shaking stopped and the android stood up.

I walked over, looking up and down the android that now held Zane. “Unit 442, what is your status.”

He spoke using a slightly altered enfeminate voice, but I could recognize it as Zane’s, “All functions are operational master.”

I smiled, “And what is the status of your long-term passenger?”

“All vitals are stable. Submissive control module is operational. There is a 0% chance of internal error with regale functions.”

“Finally, what is your name?”

In an instant, the robotic presence of the twink shifted to that of a regular person. “Oh my name is Marky, I’m Matt’s younger brother who just got accepted to the university. I want to be in AZR just like him and willing to do anything or anyone to make that come true!”

I couldn’t help but laugh, caressing his life-like face. Calling in Eric, I hopped into him and sent Matt and the other autonomous frat bros back downstairs to keep up appearances. As the party continued downstairs, I undressed down to just my socks. “Well then, I can make that happen. But first, bend down and show me what you can do with that mouth.”

“Yes sir!” I think this is going to be fun.

[chemspxdr]

This Must Be The Place

Satoru Gojo x reader

Summary: satoru is a FATHER and he has A SON (~1k words)

Warnings: a little sad

I forgot that I have a tumblr for fics oops. Gojo satoru has won Hyperifxation of the Month!!

He always hated kids.

Well — hate is, as always, a very strong word.

It’s not children themselves, he supposes, moreso a reflection of himself. Gojo never understood children, even when he was one. Having the burden of seven assassination attempts before he could even speak tends to make a “childhood” fairly desolate.

Talking to kids was one thing, he could get by with a few dinosaur facts he’s picked up over the years. But being a guardian for one is an entirely different ball game. One he never intends to play, thank you very much.

Well.

Intended.

Past tense.

Imagine his — alleged playboy Satoru Gojo’s— surprise when the fucker who tried to kill him, as in cold blooded murder, makes the man he attempted to murder the godfather of his child.

Yeah, pretty goddamn shocking. But what is he going to do? Just say no?

Yeah sorry I don’t want the child you entrusted me with, so I’ll let it get taken in by the worst motherfuckers alive simply because I’m too pussy to attempt fatherhood.

Satoru Gojo is many things, but a pussy isn’t one of them. Maybe that was Toji’s goal, the conniving bastard wanted to prove to the world that there was one thing the great Satoru Gojo could not do.

Fuck that.

The phone rings one, two, three times before she answers.

“I’m getting a kid,” he spit it out the second he heard the crackle of the line and the inhale of her breath.

The line remains silent for a moment.

“What,” not a question, moreso a statement of exasperation.

“I don’t think I can make it any clearer than that, dear,” he shifts gears and passes the minivan in front of him with a tsk. Slow fuckers.

“Are you driving?”

“No,” he shifts again, he doesn’t need to go that fast.

“Liar, I could hear that monstrosity across the pacific.”

“Girls like manual, you know. They say it’s hot when I shift gears.”

“Obviously not hot enough. That brings me to my next point: you need to have sex to make a kid,”

“I don’t like what you’re implying,”

“I don’t imply. You have no time for sex, how the fuck did you make a baby? Did someone snatch your semen in the middle of the night?” She laughs to herself then, ”the Semen Snatcher of Shibuya?”

He doesn’t have time to mock her self satisfied snorts, much less time to refute the ”no time for sex” part.

“Not a baby. A child,”

“Okay, so, adoption?”

“Sort of,”

“When are you getting it?”

He breathes out a laugh, “Him. And I don’t know, ten minutes? Traffic is pretty rough.”

“Oh my fucking—fuck. Now?”

“No. Ten minutes,” he speeds through a yellow light, “Nevermind. Eight minutes.”

“I hate you. I hate you so much. Stop talking forever.”

He laughs again, but the line stays quiet. The silence seems to get heavier with each passing second.

“Toji,” she sighs.

—

Satoru Gojo is untouchable.

In the obvious,most literal sense of the word— his infinity wraps him in a comfortable, Gojo-sized bubble. He is impenetrable, god on earth, the chosen atlas of a world he was born to carry and protect.

One he is —regrettably— protecting now.

The curse gurgles below him, once menacing, now crumpled on the cold concrete of an abandoned warehouse. It’s half dead, sort of…melting, almost? Whatever reaction it had to his technique has left it liquified, all discernible characteristics it may have had now flowing in a bubbling mass squirming on the ground.

It has no mouth —he thinks— but its making sounds like it’s choking on its own liquid flesh.

He had to haul his ass across the country, for this. Some half-wit “special grade” that couldn’t even talk. An accumulation of decades worth of cursed energy that no one had the balls or skill to handle themselves. So higher ups let it fester, knowing of its presence — of the multiple disappearances surrounding it’s location.

But they let it live. Brushed it under the rug until they deigned to take care of it. Or, at least, until they could haul out their government-sanctioned weapon of mass destruction on a perfectly good Saturday evening.

The flesh-blob is steaming now. Evaporating, maybe? He couldn’t give a single fuck, really. What matters is that his infinity keeps it from getting onto his shoes. A handy trick in this line of work.

It’s comforting, really. Even if the whole world was burning, Satoru Gojo would stand in the wreckage without as much of a scratch on him. Maniacally laughing — probably.

It’s comforting, he thinks as he leaves the spirit to succumb to its demise, knowing that although it has taken the lives of many, he could take it down with the snap of his fingers.

He’s greeted with a dark, raining sky as he makes his way to the rental; it’s some sort of white sports car, sleek and expensive. It's the least his superiors can offer after wasting his time like this. What was once a light drizzle begins to fall harder, not quite torrential but heavy enough to forewarn a storm in the coming hours.

It’s comforting to know that, if he wanted, he could go home dry and content. He could keep his shoes free from mud that would no doubt dirty the impeccable interior of the car and, later, his apartment.

He reaches for the driver's side door and stops, gazing up into the starless sky above.

He lets the rain hit his skin.

Today sucked.

Scratch that— today sucked ass.

Gojo mumbles as much while fumbling with the key to his apartment. He could just teleport inside, but he has class. He also doesn’t want to scare the shit out of her if she’s still up. He’d rather not risk his luck, lucky enough to have her watch Megumi for the past—

He finally manages to unlock the door, unceremoniously tossing his keys onto the kitchen island. He checks the clock on the microwave, glowing a mocking 4 am into the darkness of his home.

— 44 hours. Shit.

He pauses, listening for signs that he woke anyone with his frenzy of an entrance. The apartment resides in relative silence, save for the occasional rumble from the streets below. Light blue, pre-dawn light filters through the windows.

Grabbing a pillow from the bedroom is too risky, being brutally murdered is not in his plans for the day. What he does plan on is taking a prolonged nap, then eating his body weight in takeout.

He rips his blindfold off with a sigh as he walks around the corner to the living room. He might just have to settle with a thin throw blanket and the couch cushions—

Oops.

Seems someone already beat him to it.

She’s half asleep, sprawled out on the couch, the glow of the muted television dousing her in different hues of blue and green. Snacks and drinks litter the coffee table along with the usual clutter of crayons, paper, and coffee mugs. A soft groan rises from her throat as she stretches one hand over her head and rubs an eye with the other.

“I told him you might come back tonight. He wanted to stay up until you got here.”

Gojo blinks for a moment, eyes dropping from her face to the blanket-covered mass resting on her chest.

Satoru Gojo finds comfort in his infinity for its practical uses. Any unwanted touches are thwarted — if not by his demeanor or reputation — by the invisible barrier surrounding his body.

He lives a life without the inconvenience of touch, the brushing of shoulders in a crowded room, the cordial shake of a sweaty hand, the impact of a fist to his jaw.

It’s comforting.

Oddly, as he watches her fingers tangle in the tuft of black hair peeking out from under the blanket, Satoru Gojo feels like he’s missing something.