#forgot to turn on my work timer for it and maybe that's for the better

[glowpuppy]

stop and listen to what the wind whispers to you

[monzabee]

partition - lh44 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where you and Lewis are stuck in traffic in Paris, and decide to make the most of the situation.

Pairing: lewis hamilton x reader 

Word Count: 4.0k

Warnings: smut!! sex in a car, unprotected sex (because when have i written something with condoms lol), pwp, cringey ass nickname (blame beyoncé), manhandling, took me a long time to write it so it doesn’t make sense most part, minors dni!!

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this was a passion project for me and you have no idea how happy i am with the way it turned out. There’s only one slight issue and it is that i wanted lewis to call the reader something other than peaches, but it is in the song, therefore please if you don’t like it blame the mother, aka beyoncé. Also, i was very unsure of whether i wanted to drag it out, or leave it as it is, so any feedback is appreciated. i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

It took you forty five minutes to get ready – Lewis knows this because he’s been keeping time on his phone since the moment you’ve went into the bedroom side of your hotel room to get ready for the party he’s taking you to. You’ve always like to joke that he takes longer getting ready whenever the two of you have to go somewhere, but now that he is staring the timer on his phone, maybe he should use it as an evidence that you’re, in fact, wrong the next time you tease him about it. Not that he actually would do that, he is a gentleman, after all.

He’s just about to call out to you to hurry up when you beat him to it, “Baby, I need help, please!”

The nickname manages to bring the smallest of smiles to his face as he, without shouting anything back in response, gets up from his place on the couch and makes his way towards the bedroom. And that’s when his eyes land on you, in front of the full-sized mirror struggling  to zip up your dress. In just a few more steps he’s right behind you, his fingers itching to dance against the smooth skin of your back. “I thought you were going to wear the suit you brought, Peaches,” his voice comes off muffled as he presses a few kisses to the expose skin on your shoulder.

“I forgot to bring the shirt that goes with it,” your voice comes off shaky as you feel his lips drag on your skin, and you can hear his soft chuckle. Craning your neck to give him a small smile, you join in his laughter, “Zip me?” With a yielding kiss, Lewis wordlessly grabs the small zipper between his fingers, and when the moves the zipper, it makes you shriek out another laugh, “Up, Lewis, zip me up please!”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, pulling the zipper upward with a swift motion. The dress seamlessly hugs your figure, and he makes a show of checking you out from the mirror in front of you before meeting your eyes. “There you go, all zipped up,” Lewis announces triumphantly, ignoring your disapproving headshake, giving you a gentle pat on the back. You turn around, facing him with a grateful smile, and he can't resist leaning in for a sweet kiss. The connection between your lips is brief but warm.

“You like my dress?” You ask him and his enthusiastic nod makes your smile widen in satisfaction, “You don’t think it’s too short?”

Instead of answering your question with words, instead Lewis tsks, letting his dissatisfaction with your question known. He gently takes one of your hands in his, threading his fingers through yours and prompts you to spin around to give him a better look of your dress. He wraps his arms around your middle, his hand still firmly intertwined with yours, and presses a kiss on your shoulder right where the strap of your dress meets your skin. “Wear any dress you want, Peaches, Miles and I can handle anyone who gives you trouble for it.”

Chucking at his protective, yet playful, response, you pat his arm around your middle with your free hand, “Speaking of the devil, we should probably get going if we don’t want him to kill us both for being late.” Lewis makes a sound of contest, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he pulls you closer to himself. “Lu,” you let out a faux-exasperated sigh, “there is being late, and fashionably late, and I’m afraid we are way past the latter.

“Oh, darling,” you hear his breathy voice whisper against your skin as he places a couple of open mouthed kisses onto your exposed skin, “maybe we should stay back, hm? I can show you just how much I like your dress.” With one of his hands splayed on your stomach and his lips greeting your skin ever so often, you gasp when his lips find that one sweet spot he knows that makes your knees week. “Imagine how much fun we can have on our own, here, in our room.”

Throwing your head back to rest on his chest, a breathy chuckle falls from your lips, but you give him a stern look. “As much as I would love to stay back with you, we promised all of our friends we’ll be there.” As you rise up to your toes to give him a soft peck on the lips, you manage to break free from his arms, leaving him with a perpetual pout on his face. “When we get back, Mister Hamilton, you can do whatever you want to me.”

With your offer, the look on his face changes from a pout to a smirk. “Is that a promise, Peaches?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, darling,” you emphasise the word with an exaggerated version of his accent. “It’s a fact,” you return his look with a small smirk on your own as you add, “sir.”

Needless to say, the walk down to the lobby to get into your car is full of tension between the two of you. It’s not like Lewis can’t hold himself back, because he can. He has proven under many circumstances that he can withhold sex from you if he decides to do that. The most recent incident was when he caught you lurking around the Red Bull garage during the last race you’ve attended, which ended with you quite literally having to beg him to fuck you after a week of Lewis not even touching you. The walk down to the lobby is filled with stolen touches and knowing glances, with him trying to get you to kiss him every minute, not caring whether the people around you can hear him or not.

You give him a sideway look when the receptionist tells you that your limo for the night is waiting for you. “A limo?” You raise an eyebrow, looking at him for response.

He simply shrugs a shoulder, leaning down to mumble his response into your ear, “Miles was in charge of the car,” with his fingers giving your waist a firm squeeze, he manages to earn a silent shriek from you, “I’m sure we could do with the extra space, darling.”

“Behave, Lu.” You chastise him, but the corner of your mouth upturns nonetheless and you let Lewis guide you towards the car waiting for you.

Because he is the perfect gentleman he opens your door and helps you into the limo, pressing a lingering kiss on your hand before joining you. The inside of the limo is darker than you expected, but the city lights of Paris do a good enough job of illuminating the car. The condensation on the limo’s windows has your attention and Lewis watches and you trailing your finger along the glass, tracing the line a raindrop left behind. He contemplates, for a second, whether being jealous over a raindrop for commanding your attention could be considered weird or not, but he decides that he doesn’t really care.

He places a hand on your thigh, his touch is both reassuring and possessive, but when you turn your head towards him to look at him, the way he smiles at you and his thumb caresses your knee is incredibly sweet. He is a duality in himself, Lewis is. And you enjoy the way city lights illuminate his face, his smile soft as he leans over the middle of the seat to give you a sweet peck on your lips.

“What was that for?” you ask him, giggling as you place your hand over his on your thigh. He doesn’t answer, only shrugs his shoulders and grins as he pulls away from you, instantly making you seek him out again. You’re about to comment on his suddenly playful mood, when you realise the car is slowly coming to a stop, and you let out a breath of frustration when the driver informs you that you’ve hit traffic. And traffic in Paris on a Friday night? It’s safe to say that both of you know that you are not going anywhere fast.

The overall wait is not that bad, you think. Even though the traffic is crawling at a snail’s pace, you’re more than happy to be in the car where you can be with Lewis without the overwhelming sound of EDM music and sweaty bodies pushing you around in a crowded club. The same, however, cannot be said about your boyfriend.

As time passes and you’re, still, stuck in traffic, you can see Lewis getting more and more frustrated with the situation. You try not to comment on how annoyed he looks and let him have his silent moment of irritation. You gently squeeze his hand, offering a reassuring smile. “It's alright, Lewis. We'll get there eventually.”

He lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I know, I know. It's just... I hate being late.” He lets out another frustrated sigh as he gently pats the empty seat between the two of you. “Can you just come closer, please?”

“Why?” you ask, eyes narrowed down in suspicion as he somehow manages to pull you closer to himself, not that you would try to get out of the situation otherwise – with the amount of times you’ve found yourself suddenly sitting in Lewis’ lap, it’s almost as if you can’t get away from him when he’s next to you. “We can’t do anything,” you whisper in warning when you catch him giving you literal bedroom eyes.

Smirking at the anxious tone of your voice, he lets his hand wander down to your hip as he quickly manoeuvres you into his lap, despite all your warnings, and calls out to the driver loud enough for him to hear his voice, “Hey mate, can you pull up the partition, please?” You hear the sound of the partition going up as Lewis fiddles with the couple of the buttons on the door handle, and soon after you hear the faint sound of music playing in the car. He meets your eyes when you give him a funny look, silently asking him what he’s up to, but he responds with a faint smile as he rests his hand on your lower back.

Rolling your eyes at the antics of the driver sitting, literally, under you, you turn your attention back to the scenery outside the window. Going back to tracing the raindrops falling onto the glass window, you choose to focus on the outside view as best as you can, given the current position you’re in. Although you’ve warned him against it, Lewis’ hand on the lower of your back drawing circles into your skin gives you other ideas you would otherwise choose to ignore in a public setting.

“What are you up to, Lewis?” you ask, lips twitching in a need to smile as you do your best to supress it.  

He grins, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark as he gives you an innocent shrug of his shoulder. “Just making the most of the situation, darling.”

Letting out a resigning sigh, you try to focus back on the rain outside, but with Lewis’ hand getting bolder on your lower back and the fact that you find yourself shuffling in your seat with every subtle movement of the car makes it almost impossible to focus on anything but him. Deciding to find out just how much you can get away with, you  tilt your head back slightly, your lips hovering near his ear. “Are you trying to start a scandal, Mr. Hamilton?”

He chuckles, the vibrations from his laughter sending a delightful shiver down your spine. “I told you we'd make the most of it, didn't I?” Hid hand continues its teasing dance, eventually dipping lower and even under your dress, and you have to fight the urge to let out a moan at the feeling of his skin on yours. “We can make it into a challenge,” he offers, his voice low as he suggestively whispers on your skin, “see just how scandalous we can be in the back of a limo.”

“What if someone sees?” You mumble, biting the corner of your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

His lips graze the curve of your neck, sending another shiver down your spine. “I thought you liked being watched, Peaches.” You can feel his lips curling into a smirk and a gasp leaves your lips as his hand grabs your thigh, making you shuffle closer to him as a result. “Is that a yes?” Your eyes glance over at the closed up partition, but you nod your head nevertheless, though that doesn’t necessarily satisfy the man beside you. “Words, darling.”

“Yes, please.” The words escape your mouth and your hands slide down his body to work on the zipper of his dress pants. He gives you an amused look as you pull his zipper down, and kneel on the floor between his legs as elegantly as you can given the current situation you’re in. You hear him say your name in warning, giving you a way out, even though he was teasing you about your voyeuristic tendencies – and you might’ve considered taking it, if it weren’t for the fact that having him in your mouth is the only thing you can focus on at the moment. So, instead of pulling yourself up on Lewis’ lap and let him have his way with you, you carefully take his cock out, making sure to keep your eyes fixed on his during the whole process.

Giving him a few gentle strokes, you lean forward to lick the first few drops of precum that drips out of the head of his cock. The hiss he lets out when you take the head of his cock between your lips and suck on it gently makes you smirk, and so you swirl your tongue around the tip to get another reaction out of him. With the way his left hand grabs the door, you know Lewis is trying so hard not to just grab you by your hair and guide you the way he wants to. Humming at the taste of him, you widen your lips to fit more of him in your mouth and wrap both hands around his cock to pump the rest of his cock that you can’t fit into your mouth. As you slowly start bobbing your head up and down on his cock, the sounds leaving his mouth make you want to quicken up your pace, though you refrain from doing so. Maybe you shouldn’t be feeling so turned on by a mere sound of your boyfriend’s pleasure, but you can’t help yourself as you inadvertently rub your thigs together.

You continue the movements of your mouth, taking more of him every time you bob your head down, and Lewis gives in at some point, threading his hands through your hair and guiding you down until the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. “Fuck, Peaches,” his low groan sends tingles down your spine, “just like that.” He looks so beautiful, you think, with his head thrown back and eyes closed.

Your hands work together with your mouth, picking up speed when you realise you have him at your mercy like this – it even makes you wetter, and you feel the wetness between your legs. Your eyes water as a sudden move from Lewis thrusting his hips causes your gag reflex to remind you both that it is there, causing you to pull back with a huff and send a glare his way. But he apologises by caressing the apple of your cheek and easing you back onto his cock.

Your power move, however, doesn’t last long, as Lewis lets out a groan, pulling your head off of him and leaning forward to lift you onto his lap. It’s not necessarily intentional when you grind yourself against his cock, causing both of you to moan simultaneously. Your head is thrown back when you feel his lips gliding on your feverish skin, and you even let out a breathy laugh when your head lulls to the side and you see the handprints he’s left in the mirror. “Lewis,” you whisper, trying to keep your voice low, suddenly very aware of the driver sitting in the front of the car, “if you don’t fuck me now, I think I might explode.”

“I got you, baby,” he murmurs, his hands on your hips lifting you up to position you over his cock. But you have other plans in mind. He lets out a breathy chuckle as you drag your lips over the skin of his neck, tracing his tattoos as you leave feverish kisses along the way. “What are you doing?” He asks, hands busying themselves to get you out of your underwear.

Nipping at his skin, which earns you Lewis squeezing your hip in warning in return, but you give him a pout as you pull back. “You didn’t let me finish you off, you impatient brute.”

“Brute?” He echoes, not able to stop himself from laughing at your choice of words, “Are you going to be a brat, hm?” He is more than happy to play along when you get into these moods, though he also knows how you can get when you don’t get something you want. So when you fix him with a glare of your own, he lets out a deep sigh as he wraps your hair around one of his hands and pull your head back to bare your neck to him. “And to think I thought you were going to be a good girl, I guess that’s my fault.”

The whine that leaves you would’ve been embarrassing if it weren’t for the fact that he has you in the in the palm of his hand. “It’s not fair,” another whine leaves you, and you attempt rolling your hips against his erection resting against you in between your legs, but before you can find a rhythm, he halts your movements by tugging on your hair again. Curling your fingers around his shirt, you huff a breath of annoyance, whining out his name. “I’ll be good,” you promise, and let out a relieved sigh when he lets go of your hair to give you more freedom to move; you thank him with a few kisses.

“I know you will.” Lewis mumbles, hands finding your underwear again, but he quickly becomes frustrated when he realises the position you’re in will make it hard for him to get you out of them. So, taking an executive decision, he decides to rip them off your body. He gives you a look when you whine at the loss of your favourite pair, and he tries to salve the situation with a promise of buying you another pair. When you feel him between your legs, without any barriers this time, he is not surprised to see your immediate reaction. Though Lewis enjoys when you take control, he is impatient as he raises your hips, despite all your protest, and positions you over his cock.

You only have a few moments to adjust when he eventually lowers you onto his cock, and the initial stretch has you gasping out his name. He gives you a few minutes to adjust before slowly starting to move your hips, each move making you take him deeper until he’s buried to the hilt in you. One of your hands is pressed to the window for support out of reflex, trying to keep still as he uses the grip he has on your hips to move you in the rhythm he wants. It matches the mood pretty well, you think, everything is rushed and the sounds of the traffic and the music playing surrounding you becomes muffled as the pleasure takes over your body. You have to physically stop yourself from screaming every time he slams you down on his cock, faster and harder each time, relentless as he watches your face contort with pleasure.

Trying your best to match his thrusts, you grind your clit on every down stroke, making him somehow go even deeper, and making you moan even louder. There is an arrogant smirk on his face that you would love to wipe off, but with the way he’s making you feel, you decide to get him away with it. Dragging your hands down his shirt, you suddenly feel offended by the fact that he is covering his chest, and decide to get him out of it. This plan would’ve worked better if it weren’t for the fact that you end up ripping the buttons rather than being gentler with it. Not that Lewis complains about it, since this is most definitely not the first time something like this has happened. Your hands work on their own as you glide them through the smooth skin, slightly damp due to the warm temperature of the car, but every contact with his skin seems to make you roll your hips faster and harder.

He has to close one of his hands over your mouth since the moans that leave you get considerably higher in volume with every waking second. His lips curl up in a smile as you silently beg him with your eyes, your movements becoming sloppier with every down stroke. “I’m going to remove my hand and help you come, but you’re going to be a good girl and keep quiet, okay?” His voice carries a warning tone, and you frantically nod, assuring him that you’ll follow his instructions.

Keeping true to his word Lewis takes away his hand, making you take a deep breath as he grabs your hips. His hold on your hips is bruising, and you’re certain you’ll have marks to remember tonight for a while – especially with the way he uses his hold to move you on his cock in a rhythm he wants to. It doesn’t take you a long time to feel the overwhelming pleasure starting to build up in your lower stomach. “Please,” you whine, nails biting into his skin as your other hand is splayed over the window for support, “I’m so close.”

“Come on,” Lewis encourages you, hands working you over his cock even faster to get you where you need to be, “give it to me, I got you.” And with him looking at you like that, using your body however he wants to? It doesn’t take long for you to feel yourself coming around him, head thrown back and lips parted in a silent scream. With a last thrust, you feel him also spill himself into you, the act being greatly intimate despite the current predicament you’re both in at that moment.

A sound of surprise leaves the back of your throat when he begins to move under you, positioning you to stand on all fours as he positions himself behind you. “Wha– What are you doing?” You ask, craning your neck to look at him with hazy eyes.

“Oh, Peaches,” he coos, one of his hands caressing your skin down your thighs and up towards your hip again, “did you think we were done? We still have a long way back to the hotel.”

“But, the club?” You find yourself asking, cheeks burning when he uses his finger to push the wetness dripping out of you back in.

“We were never going to make it to that club anyway,” Lewis drags his lips up your spine until he reaches your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck before whispering, “what do you think? Should we make the most out of the way back?”

Your eyes slide towards the handprints left on the window, the Paris lights shining through the streaks both of your handprints have left behind. Maybe under different circumstances you would’ve insisted you go to the club to meet with your friends. But at that moment? You instinctively push your hips back onto his, and feel his smile on your skin as he runs his hands through your body, ready for another round simply because you two can’t keep away from each other.

[synity]

it's me again 🥹🥹 i love your jihoon fics so bad, i literally get so excited when i see your works. so NEW REQ

this is completely up to you, whether you want it to be angst or not. how about chef jihoon 😼 or or a school teacher etc like a different job :D that'd be kewl, also hope you have a great day ahead :]

A RECIPE FOR US

(Chef!Lee Jihhon x FemReader)

*slice of life, romance, drama, Emotional Connection*

You never thought cooking could be such an adventure until Jihoon stepped into your life. Not just as your best friend, but as an unexpectedly talented chef who somehow managed to turn every simple meal into a moment worth savoring

Jihoon wasn’t flashy in the kitchen. No grandiose techniques or fancy ingredients just pure, sincere passion. The kind that made even burnt toast feel like a masterpiec

It had been a draining day. Your body felt heavy, and your mind was foggy as you dragged yourself through the door. The usual plan was to eat something quick, something easy or maybe nothing at all, just collapse into bed.

But instead, you were met with the faint sound of sizzling, the sweet smell of garlic and herbs wafting through the air. You blinked, confused. Jihoon stood by your stove, apron tied around his waist, concentrating hard as he chopped onions with precise, deliberate motions.

“Surprise!” he said, grinning sheepishly when he noticed you.

You leaned against the doorframe, eyes wide. “Since when do you cook?”

He shrugged casually, but you caught the nervous spark in his eyes. “Since I wanted to make you dinner.”

Your exhaustion lifted just a little as you took a seat at the small kitchen table. The next hour was a blur of flavors, laughter, and stories shared over a steaming bowl of homemade soup.

That night, you realized that food was more than just fuel it was love served on a plate.

Over the next few weeks, Jihoon’s cooking became a constant in your life. Sometimes it was a carefully prepared meal; other times, an experimental dish that went hilariously wrong like the time he forgot to set the timer and your kitchen filled with smoke.

But it didn’t matter. What mattered was the way he looked at you when you smiled, the way he reached out to hold your hand across the table, and how even his mistakes felt like little love notes.

One afternoon, while you were helping him stir a pot of sauce, he confided, “I’ve been taking cooking classes.”

You nearly dropped the spoon. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He laughed softly. “Because I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted to get better, for you.”

Your heart melted. You wrapped your arms around him, grateful for this quiet, unassuming kind of love.

The kitchen was their favorite place sometimes more than the couch, the park, or anywhere else.

There were nights when the music was low, but their laughter was loud. Jihoon would pull you close between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, spinning you around in a goofy kitchen dance.

You’d bump into counters, knock over bowls, but neither of you cared. You were alive, present, and everything felt perfect.

Between stolen kisses and shared smiles, you realized you were falling not just for the delicious meals, but for the man who made them.

One evening, after a long day, Jihoon surprised you again.

He set the table, lit candles, and served a dessert he’d spent hours perfecting: a delicate chocolate mousse with fresh strawberries.

As you savored the sweetness, he reached across the table, taking your hand in his.

“You’re my favorite recipe,” he said quietly. “One I want to keep perfect forever.”

Your cheeks flushed. The moment was delicate, a mixture of hope and fear, but you found yourself whispering, “Me too.”

Of course, it wasn’t all easy. There were days when Jihoon’s perfectionism in the kitchen spilled over into his patience with himself and sometimes with you.

You learned to support him through his doubts, to remind him that imperfection was part of the beauty.

And he learned to trust you to let his guard down and share his dreams, fears, and the little secrets he’d never told anyone else.

One chilly winter night, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by the soft glow of fairy lights in your tiny apartment, Jihoon pulled out a small box from his pocket.

Inside was a simple silver ring elegant, understated, just like him.

“I don’t need a fancy restaurant or a perfect dish to tell you this,” he said, voice trembling with nervs. “But I want to spend every meal, every moment, with you.”

Tears filled your eyes as you nodded, heart bursting with love.

In that moment, you knew your recipe for forever was just beginning.

[traveler-at-heart]

The Thing

Summary: Natasha works the courage to ask you out.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Finally alone.

Natasha is very particular about her food. It took her exactly seven minutes to make the perfect sandwich. She smiles at it and as she’s about to take a bite, a voice interrupts her.

She’d be annoyed, except for the fact that it’s you.

“Hey, Natty” you say innocently, approaching from behind. You’re one of those people that is always hugging or touching your friends.

Natasha doesn’t mind. It would be easier if she didn’t have a big crush on you, though.

Closing the distance, you rest your chin on her shoulder and inspect her plate.

“That looks nice” you whisper, unaware that the redhead is struggling to keep her knees from buckling.

“Yeah…” she can feel your hands traveling around her waist. 

Nice is an understatement.

Finally reaching for a couple of chips, you giggle and step away from the other woman.

“Hey, that’s my lunch!” Natasha protests, but she’s not annoyed.

“Sorry, I’m being called for an urgent mission. Apparently, I’m the gal for the job. This will do while I get some food when I land. Thanks, gorgeous!”

That’s another thing. Gorgeous, babe, angel, darling. You always have a pet name for her. 

It’s really hard to tell if you’re flirting when you speak like that.

After all, you call Kate Bishop delicious muffin. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

No point in thinking about it now. There are more pressing matters at hand.

“Jeez, Steve, I still have 5 minutes!” You shout when someone knocks on your door. You open it and find Natasha on the other side. “Ah, sorry, love. Thought Grandpa America was timing me”

Love.

That’s new.

“Uh… here” she’s always struggling to speak whenever you’re around. You must think she’s a moron.

“For me?” You take the container that she’s presenting and open it. You gasp at the sight of a sandwich and your favorite chips. “Oh, my God!” You lean forward and kiss her on the cheek. “You’re my favorite widow”

“Yelena will be pissed when she finds out” Natasha tries to joke, looking down. Her face is burning, the touch of your lips lingering.

“She’ll survive” you put the sandwich in your bag pack as the timer in your wrist goes off. “Better find Steve before he goes nuts over a one minute delay. Thanks for the sandwich. You’re an angel” 

Another kiss on the cheek, this time closer to Natasha’s mouth. And she almost believes you know what you’re doing, based on that little smirk.

“Oh, shoot” you turn around and call for her when you’re walking towards the hangar. “When you see Yelena… tell her to remember about the thing”

“The thing?” Natasha repeats and you wink.

“She’ll know what I mean” you smile and wave goodbye. “See you in a couple of days, Natty” 

—

It doesn’t take long for Natasha to find her sister. Maybe the thing is something important and she wants to make sure Yelena remembers about it.

“Hey” Natasha says as she sits down next to the blonde.

“Hi” Yelena mumbles, sinking further in the couch, while she scrolls through cooking tutorials.

“Y/N left for a mission today”

“Oh, are you sad that your future girlfriend left?” 

“Shut up” Natasha says. Of course Yelena would know. “She wanted me to remind you about the thing”

“Mkay” Yelena answers, still looking at her phone.

“That’s it? I thought it could be important”

“She just wants me to get her tickets for a… uh…” Yelena finally looks up, drawing blank. “Crap!”

“You forgot the thing?”

“I forgot the thing” she confirms, looking around, as if the answer might be on the Compound’s walls. Kate enters, unaware of the tension in the room. Yelena runs to her. “You”

“What?” Kate barks out, looking ready to slap her. 

“You were with me when Y/N asked me to buy those tickets. Do you remember what they were for? A musical? The opera? Ballet?”

“It was a concert” Kate nods. “Don’t remember the name of the band, though. Sorry” Kate grimaces.

“Ok, let’s just say band names, see if it comes back to me” Yelena pleads and Kate stutters. Working under pressure isn’t her biggest strength.

“Uh, Rammstein” 

“She hates metal” Natasha says.

“The Phantom of the Opera”

“Not a band” Yelena shakes her head.

“The Beatles”

“Half dead” Natasha points out and Yelena groans.

“She’s gonna kill me. I have to run to Mexico. At least the food will be good there” 

“Hey, weren’t you in the room when Y/N asked Yelena for the favor?” Kate remembers all of the sudden, looking at Natasha. 

“Were you?” Yelena says, hopeful. “Please, tell me the name. I’ll do your laundry for a week”

“And wash my dishes” 

“That too” 

“And my mission reports”

“And… nu-uh, that’s too much, Tasha” 

The redhead rolls her eyes. 

“I’ll get the tickets myself. Can’t trust you with that either” 

“Do you want to give your crush a present?” Yelena pokes her tongue out and Natasha glares. Before Kate can stop them, they’re wrestling around the living room, throwing things at each other.

“Stop it!” Steve jumps in. “Hey, we just got new curtains. Damn it!” 

—

Natasha may have hacked the concert’s website to make sure you got the best tickets. She’s walking back to her room, being extra careful that they’re not folding in case you wanna keep them. She knows you have a box full of mementos from shows.

“Hey, Natty” a voice greets from the hallway. Natasha’s hands fly behind her back, because she wanted to surprise you. And she’s definitely not ready to ask you out right now. “Oh, scaredy cat. What are you hiding?” 

Your tone is playful, while you try to reach behind her. Only as your face comes close to her, she notices the bruise around your left eye and temple.

“What happened to you?” she puts the tickets on her back pocket and places her hands on your face. “Who did this to you?”

“H.Y.D.R.A. brute. Nothing new under the sun” you smile and take advantage of the distraction to reach for Nat’s pockets. The redhead is faster and takes your right wrist. The same thing happens with your left hand, and she holds both wrists close to her chest. “Nat! Come on” 

“I can’t show it to you, not now” she tries hard not to giggle, but you’re struggling to break free and the frown on your face makes you look adorable. 

“You are not playing fair, Natasha. I’m calling for backup. FRIDAY, call Yel..”

Natasha panics then, pulling you close and silencing you with her lips. You stand still for a couple of seconds, but then close your eyes, deepening the kiss.

She sighs against your mouth and lets go of your wrists, her hands going down to circle your waist. You bite her lip and the moan she lets out is reward enough.

"My, I'd say buy me dinner first but I wouldn't mind skipping straight to dessert" you joke and she smiles, her green eyes still closed.

But, you’re still curious, so you take advantage of her distraction and reach in her back pocket.

“Wait” Natasha says, her face flushed and lips swollen.

“You got me the tickets? That's better than dinner!”, you say, jumping into her arms once again. 

“Well, Yelena forgot the thing and I wanted to ask you out” she smiles against your shoulder and you pull back. Her eyes go back to the bruise, concerned once again. “Are you sure this doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m fine. Never been better” you lean forward and kiss her again. She smiles against your lips, thinking how happy she is that Yelena is always forgetting things.

[latin5mamii]

ALSO

Jude Bellingham X TrentAA Sister ???

Maybe Trent Alexander Arnold is close with his younger sister and he is looking after her whilst she’s sick and then Jude comes over and it’s just a cute day with her brother and boyfriend ???😔😔❤️

Sickie

Genre: AATRENT SISTER X JUDE BELLINGHAM

WARNINGS:None!Just fluff and cozy

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Loved writing this!Please suggest more about jude!

SUMMARY:You're sick and nothing could make you feel better, or at least you thought...

It was one of those days when you felt completely drained. The cold you had been battling for the past few days had finally taken its toll, and you were confined to bed. Your older brother Trent Alexander-Arnold, had taken it upon himself to look after you. Despite his busy schedule, he always made time for you, and today was no exception.

You lay in bed, propped up by pillows, a warm blanket wrapped around you. Trent came in with a tray, carrying a bowl of your favorite soup and a cup of tea.

“How’s my favorite sister doing?” Trent asked with a teasing smile as he set the tray down on your bedside table.

“I’m your only sister,” you replied, managing a weak smile.

“Still my favorite,” he said, ruffling your hair gently. “I’ve got some soup and tea for you. Think you can manage a bit?”

You nodded, grateful for his care. He handed you the bowl, and you sipped the warm broth slowly. Trent sat beside you, keeping you company and chatting about anything and everything to keep your mind off how lousy you felt.

As you were finishing your soup, there was a knock at the door. Trent got up to answer it, and moments later, you heard familiar voices in the hallway. Your boyfriend had come over.

“Hey, sickie,” Jude said softly as he walked into your room, a warm smile on his face.

“Hey! That’s rude,” you protested, trying to muster a playful glare.

Jude chuckled and sat on the edge of your bed. “Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood. How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here,” you admitted, reaching out to take his hand.

Jude squeezed your hand gently, his eyes full of concern. “I brought some of your favorite snacks and a few movies. Thought we could have a cozy day in.”

Trent came back in, holding another tray with snacks and drinks. “Looks like Jude had the same idea,” he said with a grin. “We’re going to make sure you’re properly spoiled today.”

You smiled, feeling incredibly lucky to have both of them looking after you. Jude and Trent worked together to set up a comfortable little nest for you in the living room, with pillows and blankets, and soon the three of you were settled in to watch a movie.

Halfway through the movie, Jude turned to Trent with a mischievous grin. “Hey Trent, did you tell her about the time she almost burned the house down?”

“Jude!” you exclaimed, mortified. “You promised you wouldn’t bring that up!”

Trent laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, it’s too good not to share. So, she decided she was going to bake a cake for Mum’s birthday last year…”

“And I might have misread the recipe a little,” you admitted, your face turning red.

“She set the oven way too high and forgot to set a timer,” Trent continued, laughing. “Next thing we know, there’s smoke pouring out of the kitchen.”

“I was just trying to make something nice!” you protested, though you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.

Jude grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It was pretty epic. You should have seen her face when the smoke alarm went off.”

“You two are the worst,” you said, though you were smiling. Despite feeling sick, you couldn’t help but feel better with their playful teasing and loving care.

As the day went on, the three of you watched movies, played board games, and reminisced about other funny moments. Jude and Trent kept the mood light, doing everything they could to make you laugh and keep your spirits up.

By evening, you were feeling a bit better, thanks to the rest and the company of your favorite people. Trent ordered your favorite takeout for dinner, and the three of you ate together, still laughing and joking.

When it was time to settle down for the night, Trent fluffed your pillows and made sure you had everything you needed, while Jude tucked you in and kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, both of you,” you said, feeling a lump in your throat. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Anytime, sis,” Trent said, giving you a gentle hug. “Get some rest.”

“And I’ll be right here if you need anything,” Jude added, squeezing your hand.

Just as you were about to close your eyes, Jude leaned over with a mischievous grin. “Hey, remember that time you tried to cook spaghetti and turned the kitchen into a war zone?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Jude, seriously? Why do you always bring that up?”

“Because it was hilarious!” he laughed. “You managed to get sauce on the ceiling!”

“I was experimenting!” you protested, though you couldn’t help but smile.

“Experimenting with a grenade, maybe,” Jude teased.

“Alright, you two, enough,” Trent said, chuckling. “She needs to rest.”

Jude grinned, leaning in to kiss your forehead again. “Fine, I’ll stop for now. But I’ll be back tomorrow to remind you of all your other kitchen disasters.”

You playfully swatted at him. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me,” he shot back with a wink.

You rolled your eyes at him and turned to the wall.As you hear the door close, you can’t help but to feel happy, because you’re surrounded by people who love you, no matter what.

[goldfades]

38. "stay with me, please? i need you tonight. maybe for the rest of my life, if you're generous."

with jamie!

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 | jd⁹

♡ ─ word count | 1.6k

♡ ─ warnings | hurt/comfort, ANGST!! jamie being an asshole (but it was lowkey justified), mention of his injury/trade :((, thats all!

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay listen i forgot the prompt but the last few paragraphs basically describe what the prompt conveys if that makes sense, i still hope u enjoy it nonnie 😭🩷

Jamie had a pretty hard season, with him moving to Philadelphia unexpectedly and him being injured had really gotten to him. He's spent the last two weeks at home recovering and trying to get better as soon as he could, he wanted to be back on the ice as soon as possible. His injury added another layer of frustration. The pain, both physical and emotional, weighed heavily on him. Hockey had always been his sanctuary, and the forced break on top of the trade felt like the whole universe was against him.

You entered the condo, sighing with exhaustion. The last couple months had been frustrating for you as well, but it didn't even come close to how Jamie was feeling. As you entered the small condo, you heard the shower running and assumed it was Jamie.

You put down everything and began starting on dinner, Jamie probably hadn't eaten anything except breakfast. You were worried for him, more than you could ever express. You'd always had faith in him even in the lowest of the lows but he had never been this low in his entire career. He'd always been a determined person but right now, it really did feel like the odds were stacked up against him.

You wanted to do everything in your power to make him happy again, even if it was for a fleeting moment before the world closing on him again. The smell of a home-cooked meal began to fill the air as you moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and preparing a comforting dish.

As you worked, your thoughts lingered on Jamie's struggles - the trade, the injury, and the emotional toll it all took on him. You understood the importance of hockey in his life, how it served as a source of purpose. Tonight, you wanted to provide not just a meal but a reminder that he wasn't alone in this struggle, no matter what happens.

As your timer beeped, indicating that dinner was ready, you set the table, adorned with comforting dishes. The shower turned off, and soon Jamie emerged, his weariness evident in his movements. You gave him a warm smile, opening up your arms for a hug.

"I made your favorite,"

He slumped down to your height and embraced you tightly, sighing. You let him hug you before he slipped away from the embrace, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders as he did. The weariness in his pretty eyes spoke volumes, but so did the gratitude for the effort you put into making the evening a little brighter.

"Thank you," Jamie murmured, his voice a mixture of fatigue and appreciation. He walked over to the table and sat down as you brought waters from the fridge before sitting with him.

"How was your day?" You asked gently as you settled into the seat, glancing up to watch him.

"It was fine." He responded shortly as he began eating the food, avoiding your gaze. You knew he didn't want to come off bitter but it stung, you tried your best to not to take it personal. "You?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," you replied with a light chuckle, trying to maintain a casual tone. "Work had its moments, but nothing too exciting. I did manage to catch up with Maya over the phone today, she said she missed us back in California."

You knew you had messed up as you heard Jamie's fork hit the plate, the sound echoing throughout the apartment. Shit, I shouldn't have mentioned California. You looked up and caught his tired gaze as he sighed.

"I'm sorry," you offered softly, regret lacing your words. "I didn't mean to bring up anything that might upset you. It's just habit to share little updates about people we know, you know?"

Jamie took a deep breath, and you could see the effort it took for him to compose himself. "It's okay," he finally replied, though the strain in his voice betrayed the words. "I just... miss the way things used to be."

His vulnerability hung in the air, and you felt a pang of empathy. The unexpected move to Philadelphia had disrupted not only his career but also the familiar life you both had in California. You reached across the table, gently placing your hand over his. "I miss it too, Jamie. But we'll make new memories here. It just takes time."

He sighed and pulled his hand away from yours, your chest squeezing in hurt. He took the fork and continued to eat, choosing to stay silent. You didn't know why he was being so distant, so cold. You hated it but you couldn't resent him for it, you knew it wasn't his fault. That still didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

The room seemed to shrink with the silence, the only sound was the clinking of cutlery against the plate. The unspoken tension between you and Jamie hung heavy in the air and despite your attempt to offer comfort, he withdrew further into his thoughts. As he continued to eat in silence, you couldn't shake the ache in your chest. The distance, both physical and emotional, left you feeling like a spectator in Jamie's struggle, unable to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing moment.

You had never had this problem with Jamie before, he communicated everything he felt so that it was easier for the both of you so this was new territory. What had changed? Why was he retreating into this new, silent version of himself? The questions lingered, unanswered, amplifying the sense of helplessness.

With a heavy sigh, you set your fork down, the clatter against the plate echoing the unease in the room. "Jamie," you began tentatively, your voice soft but carrying the weight of your concern. "I hate seeing you like this, I just want to help."

Jamie had finally slammed the fork down, looking up at you with agitated playing on his face. "You can't fucking help me, Y/N. Do you get that, is that simple enough for you? I can't breathe around you without you looking at me and trying to analyze it and help me. You look at me like I'm some kind of burden you need to carry, and I'm sick of it."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the raw emotion behind them stinging more than any physical blow. It was a side of Jamie you hadn't encountered before, and the harshness in his tone took you aback. There was silence as you both stared at each other and you saw the regret slowly seep into Jamie's expression.

You took a moment to collect yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat before finally speaking. "I never meant to make you feel like a burden. I just care about you, and seeing you struggle hurts. I thought we could face it together, like we always have."

He lowered his gaze, a visible conflict playing out in his eyes. The regret painted across his face was palpable, and for a moment, it seemed like he was grappling with the weight of his words. "I know I messed up," Jamie finally admitted, his voice softer now, remorse evident. "It's just... everything feels like too much right now, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, baby."

The pet name rolled off his tongue like honey as he spoke and you could see the old Jamie come back slowly as you gazed at him. You nodded, acknowledging the complexity of the emotions that had fueled his outburst.

"Everything will be easier if you just talk to me, Jamie." You paused, choosing your words carefully. "I want to understand, Jamie. I want to be there for you," you continued, your voice gentle but firm. "We can face whatever it is together. Just talk to me. Please."

He sighed, the conflict in his eyes softening. "I know, Y/N. I just... I'm not used to all of this. The move, the injury, it's like my whole world got turned upside down, and I don't know how to understand it."

You reached across the table, your hand finding his. "We'll figure it out together. You don't have to carry it all on your own. I hate seeing you hurt like this, baby."

He squeezed your hand, the warmth of the gesture was filled with gratitude. "I don't want to push you away, Y/N. I just... I've always been the one who had it all figured out, you know? But this, it's different. It's overwhelming."

"You don't have to have it all figured out, Jamie. We'll navigate through this together. It's okay not to be okay, you don't have to play the part because at the end of the day, you're just human."

He nodded, a mixture of emotions flickering in his eyes. "I'm just scared of losing everything, of losing myself in all of this mess."

The weight of his fears hung in the air, and you leaned in, your thumb gently caressing his hand. "You won't lose yourself, Jamie. I'm here to help you find your way back. We'll take it one step at a time."

For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of vulnerability hanging in the air. Then, slowly, he began to open up. The words spilled out, frustration, fear, and the overwhelming pressure he felt. As he spoke, you listened, offering support.

After the conversation, you laid next to him in the bed, his head laying on your chest. The silence was comfortable as you both began to seep into sleep, enveloped in one another. Your fingers gently traced soothing patterns on his back as you held him close, your presence a reassurance that he wasn't alone ever.

The soft rhythm of his breathing matched the steady beat of your heart, as Jamie shifted slightly, his fingers finding yours in the darkness.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[youdisgust]

LOLOLOL HIII I need anything about L, doesn't matter if it's smut or fluff. Maybe something the reader is a confectioner/baker and she loves baking cakes and other things for him, and he likes to watch VERY intensely (I honestly don't know if he would steal some of the sweet dough or not, or maybe eat when reader says NO because it's hot, but he doesn't care and burns his hand and mouth, silly) — 🍰 anon

Sweets

WC: 370

"L I already told you to stop," you chuckle, gently batting his hand away. You were trying to surprise him with sweets, but that's not going as planned. Two batches of cookies down, one in the oven, and you're already working on a fourth. It’s hard to concentrate, though. When your back is turned, he's sneaking cookies or licking the whisk. His company is lovely, but it’s quite frustrating.

He loves studying you, he's captivated by the way you estimate measurements instead of just using a cup. He loves watching as beads of sweat form on your brow from mixing to roughly, the grimace on your face when an egg yolk bursts on your hand. He's obsessed. 

"I'm sorry," he grins sheepishly, "I can't help myself."

You give him a sten, motherly look before finishing a batch of peanut butter cookies and popping them in the oven. A few moments later, the timer dings. You pull out a tray of delicious chocolate chip cookies, set them on the counter, and start scrolling through your phone when you hear a glass clatter to the floor.

“Ouch.”

Spinning around, you spot L sucking his finger, a spilled glass of chocolate milk on the ground. You huff, starting a lecture. "I told you to stop! Now look at you.  That could blister your thumb!" You reach out and take his finger from his mouth and inspect it. Red and warm, but he’ll be fine.

"Just a first-degree burn, only the top layer. It won't blister. It does hurt, though." He frowns, looking up at you.

Sighing, you pull him into the bathroom, rummaging in a drawer for burn cream. After squirting some onto his finger, you notice his big, tender eyes watching you intently. "Much better," you tease, laughing. "But being the world's smartest detective doesn't mean you're always right. You really should listen to me more."

You pull him into a gentle kiss, and he returns it, cupping your face. He didn't mean to disobey; he knows you're only trying to help, but he can't resist the smell of those cookies.

 "Oh my gosh, I forgot the other cookies!" you exclaim, dashing from the bathroom to find them burnt to a crisp.

short and simple, hope you like it!

[sunny374940]

Whatever soup (with carrots)

Hello, @spinfins! Your recipe <3

5 carrots 5 potatoes 3 cloves of garlic A cup of pasta of your choice Oat flakes (fine or whole, your choice) Ground caraway seed Soup seasoning (I shall explain) Oil

You might be wondering why I call it whatever soup. And the answer is: because I just put in whatever I've got on hand. But this is roughly the base recipe my husband's mom taught me.

First, peel your veg, so you don't get slowed down later. You might need to adjust the amount based on the size of your pot, but you're clever, you'll figure it out. This soup is supposed to have lots of stuff floating around, so eyeball it a little.

Now, dice the carrots and potatoes. Put on some music, dicing is boring. We listened to Queen, cause Bohemian Rhapsody came on by some quirk of the yt algorithm and my daughter ran up and yelled “yes! That!”, and I wasn't about to argue. I love Queen. Anyway. Carrots go straight inside the pot with a bit of oil on the bottom. Potatoes go in a bowl for laters. The garlic! I always forget about it. You don't need much, we're not making garlic soup (which is a thing, in case you didn't know), but you can always put in more (or less) than I do. So, peel that and let it sit on the counter.

Okay so we're kinda ready, let's roll! Put the carrots on medium heat and stir them around for a bit. Ah, I forgot to tell you to boil water. Go boil enough water to fill most of your pot. But not in the pot with carrots, do it in a kettle or something. 

Back to the carrots. The oil is gonna get a bit of an orange tint and that's how you know it's time to put in the rest of the stuff. So, caraway seed. Like a tablespoon of it, chuck it in. Oh, I promised to explain the seasoning, didn't I. So, there's this mix I use that's half salt and the other half is dried vegetable powders (carrot, onion, celery, potato for some reason, paprika, parsley, tomato, leek) and some spices (pepper, garlic, turmeric and lovage), but I cannot for the life of me find out if you've got some equivalent of it over at yours. So use something similar? Like two tablespoons and adjust to taste.

Now, throw in the potatoes, a handful of oats (I literally just pour them in my palm). The oats are there mostly as a thickening agent. I prefer fine, which kinda dissolve, cause I am not a fan of soggy oat bits, but you do you. And strain the garlic through the goddamnit what is it called… garlic press! I remembered for once.

Don't forget to either lower the heat or stir when you're throwing the stuff in so it doesn't burn. And then pour in the water you remembered to boil in advance. I suppose you could do the water first and stuff after, but that makes it splash. But maybe you're better at this than I am.

Kay, so turn up the heat to bring it to boil. Stir occasionally, but you don't need to worry about it too much. Now we wait, so math! I detest it. Look at your pasta packaging. I hope you didn't pick spaghetti, that wouldn't work out too well. I usually go for those crinkly flat things… had to google and they're apparently called rombi? Huh. Did you know there's pasta called radiatori? Unsurprisingly looks like a radiator. Just pick whatever shape you like best, but not too big. Back to the math. Have a look at how long the pasta needs to be cooked for. You're going to want the potatoes to cook for like twenty five minutes, so subtract the pasta cooking time from that and now you know when to add the pasta so it finishes cooking together. Is it boiling yet? My soup boiled over the other day. 

So set a timer once it starts to boil so you know when to add the pasta. And lower the heat so it just bubbles gently. And stir it around a bit.

Now you can clean up the potato bowl and whatnot. If you're anything like me there's a lot of things on the counter now. Have a drink. Hydration is important. 

The timer! Add the pasta and try not to splash yourself with boiling soup. Maybe give it a taste while you're there and add seasoning if needed. Now turn up the heat so it starts boiling again, cause you cooled it down just now with the pasta. And turn it down again cause it's boiling too much. Wait for the pasta to finish cooking and there you go. Whatever soup.

You can always switch it up by adding different root vegetables, possibly even a legume. Or you can add groats instead of the pasta, but those often need to be soaked beforehand, so keep that in mind. Just experiment, it's hard to go wrong with this. But keep the carrots, those are Needed. And that's it.

Dobrou chuť (bon appetit). I will never understand why there isn't an english expression for this. Just. Enjoy your soup.

[thomotomo]

Accidental Reveal - Faker x Male Reader

A/N: Once again coming back from the dead to drop you a lil something~ My current hyperfixation is Faker (and T1 and the LCK as a whole too) and I have a few more ideas in stock so maybe I'm gonna drop some more stuff soon! If you wanna request for any League player don't hesitate, I'm absolutely down :D

You were a rather well-known streamer, mostly known for playing Osu and a variety of games such as sometimes league of legends. You had been dating Lee Sang hyeok, better known as Faker, for the past 3 years. The two of you had recently decided it would be good to start living together and for the past two weeks you had slowly been moving your stuff to his house.

You hadn't been streaming during that time, chilling and hanging out with your boyfriend whilst installing your stuff. You had been lucky it was the off-season so could spend most of your time together.

But today, Sang Hyeok had went out to meet up at T1 Headquarters for some work so you decided it would be nice to stream so you had spent most of the afternoon catching up with your chat, telling them about your move with your partner (obviously omitting with who and where exactly you had been moving).

You had been playing Osu, it had been a while and you had been itching to try out new maps so you were rather happy to be able to do so once again. You were having so much fun that you hadn't noticed your phone going off quietly so you jumped, when, right after you finished a song with a nice grade.

You took off your headset as you saw your boyfriend grinning face. You exhaled loudly before standing up to greet him, giving him a peck, completely forgetting that you were live,so in the meantime, your chat was going wild, even though your camera's angle wasn't super wide, they still had seen Sanghyeok's face.

You were in the midst of telling to him what you were doing when suddenly your face decomposed as you realised that you were live and that people now most likely knew who you had moved in with.

"I was streaming...", Sanghyeok's face froze too and you winced before quickly seating back on your chair.

"Hey everyone thanks for stopping by today, I er... gotta go do something quick so we'll see each other very soon! Bye."

You waved at the camera and ended the stream, keeping an eye on the chat, who was still yelling and typing "FAKER?!?!?!!?", you knew you had fucked up. You shut down everything and turned towards your boyfriend, after all he was the bigger celebrity out of the two of you. You knew that you weren't 1000% in the shit as T1 and the management alongside both of your respective families already knew about your relationship so it wouldn't come off as a surprise to them but to the rest of the world and especially to the whole country, it was another thing.

"Fuck Sanghyeok I'm so sorry. I was happy to see you and I forgot to tell you..."

"No it's okay I should've knocked." He said as he sighed and shook his head. The two of you stood there in silence, you were dreading the panicked phone call that would ensue. You stepped towards your boyfriend, kissing his cheek, trying to soothe him at least a bit.

"Hey, we can't do anything about it at the moment. Do you wanna eat something? We can order."

He nodded quietly, he was still frowning, you could feel that he was stressed by everything that was happening. You took out your phone out and, ignoring the DMs coming from some of your friends, you ordered comfort food for the both of you and waited for your order to arrive.

You could see that he was glued to his phone and you could only guess what he was reading. As if he could read your brain and hear your worry he spoke up.

"Don't worry it's just the groupchat with the guys. They're worried about us."

You couldn't help but let out a quiet breath. At least he wasn't letting shitty comments online get to him. You were itching to take a look at Twitter but you knew it wouldn't be good, looking at the timer for when your food would be delivered, you couldn't help but bite your lip in worry. Sanghyeok chuckled quietly and grabbed your face, peppering it with gentle kisses.

"Stop frowning and worrying we're going to be okay. Even if people don't like it. What do you want to watch?"

You smiled softly at him and both of you checked Netflix to see what show you'd be watching tonight. Soon after you had started the first episode of this show you had been wanting to watch the delivery person called you up. You went to fetch the food and as soon as you came back, the both of you settled and dived into your dinner, opting to enjoy it quietly and ignoring the storm you had created. Once you finished cleaning up the dinner the two of you laid down on the couch, him laying down on you.

Whilst you were really into the show you had turned on, you had moved to replying to your friends and family who had discovered the situation or were worried about you, reassuring them that the two of you would be okay.

Once that was done you turned back your focus on the show and on Sanghyeok, caressing his hair gently. You were just basking in the presence of each other, after all you it was late at night and worrying about what had happened was useless and you would deal with the consequences tomorrow.

[tulipe-rose]

asking this on your writing blog because it's a theory (?)

what if kenji was the one picked for the pm transfer ? his ability is very strong and since he's young he would be easy to manipulate.

this theory also has angst potential too , mori starving him just for his ability , and kenji just leaving the ada in general

sorry if this was confusing to read ( ・－・)

I LOVE THIS THEORY!!! (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

It's honestly one of the most valid theories for the exchange. Kenji is so blatant about his care for his friends, If you so much as appeared to be a threat towards them, kiss your ass goodbye. He quite literally fought a hunting dog, and won if it meant keeping Atsushi safe. If he was angry for a moment more than he was, we might as well have been preparing Tecchō's funeral at the time.

Which brings us to the topic of his self control.

Once Kenji is officially recruited into the Mafia, he must resign from his post as a part timer at the agency. He's no longer under the effects of All men are equal, and Mōri is fully going to exploit that. He would go to unimaginable (yet just the right amount of subtle) lengths to emotionally manipulate Kenji. Due to losing the effects of all men are equal, Kenji might as well lose control of his emotions as whole, because of how he forgot what it was like to effortlesly contain his anger, and strength. He could go on random rampages, and Mōri could ask Chūya to direct him towards the location of any enemies he needed eliminated.

Kenji might as well turn into the next destruction incarnate. Chūya would feel pity for him; he wouldn't want such a kind soul in a place so dirty, but since he's here, Mafia is Mafia, and orders are orders, nothing can be done. He can't help but see himself in him, so he tries to spend as much time with him outside of work as possible, maybe even sneaking him a phone call with the agency members from time to time. He decided to be there for him, because surviving among demons tears you apart too painfully

How would Mōri keep Kenji under his complete control, while ensuring that the slim possibility of revolt turns non existent? Hostages. Better yet? Unknowing, blissfully ignorant hostages. Mōri is perfectly capable of threatening the peaceful life in Ihatovo, and won't hesitate to if Kenji decided to be rebellious. The deal is: Listen to my every order, eliminate the enemy, and your village will be allowed peace. Visits are limited to a month each year.

The armed detective agency have no right to interfere anymore, anymore than keeping tabs on the village, and the Mafia's recent whereabouts would be considered interference in Port Mafia business that doesn't concern them. They're brewing with anger, and are on the verge of playing Russian roulette with the Mafia. If it weren't for the calls, and updates Chūya manages to give them, they would've cracked long ago.

Kenji is absolutely destroyed, and will probably never be capable of looking at himself in the mirror again. I don't even know if he can forgive Mōri after everything. The day he cracks, and finally murders Mōri (something like that scene in beast with Atsushi, and the headmaster, except Mōri wasn't asking for a hug, he was briefing Kenji on his latest mission, and wouldn't allow Kenji to visit his sick mother on her deathbed) would be the day he finally calls the detective agency directly, with the news. 'He's dead', and the line cuts off.

[sidhewrites]

Chapter 7! We get to meet Josie, but, more importantly, we get to meet Renfield. Cat Incoming!

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I nearly slip and fall in the mud on my way out of the graveyard, stopping just long enough to let a part-timer know I was heading out for a bit before sprinting through the gate, past the apartment block and into downtown to Mean Mug. 

She's sat with two coffees at our table, the one we'd spent so long talking and laughing and staring into each other's eyes. But today is just one more failure in a pattern of [not being on time.] I don't know how it happens. I swear I try, but any time we make plans, I forget, or I get distracted, and I show up late.

I'm not going to pretend I'm the only wronged party here. Josie was the one who pulled the plug on our relationship, and I'm trying not to blame her for it. But I also see the way she purses her lips and checks her phone -- that hint of frustration she tries to subdue until it festers into bitterness -- and it sparks an old frustration in me that I have to fight back.

I swallow it. We're being civil today. I swallow my anger and waltz in with a smile. "What do you know, Jo?"

"Hey, Kaz." She looks at me with an uncertain smile that fades quickly.

"What's up?"

"Um..." She gestures vaguely, and sighs in that specific way that tells me I've missed something important.

I bite back the urge to snap. What is it this time? Look. I'm air headed. My skills lay in organizing other people's schedules, landscaping a historical site, and having big muscles. It took a while to figure out how to read her unspoken messages and the intricacies of every roll of her beautiful brown eyes, but I had yet to turn into a mind-reader.

[“Where’s the box?”]

Shit. God Jesus damn it shit. In my rush to get over here, I'd completely forgotten our whole reason for meeting. "Look, Josie, I..." I groan. There's no good excuse, but I try anyway. "It's been... you know, a real long day, and I completely forgot."

"I bet." She nods. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I should have written it down, but there was the tree trimming to schedule, and Mr. Ngo's wife was sick--"

"Oh no. Is Phan okay?"

"She's doing better, but he's taking a few days off to look at her."

"Okay, yeah. Keep going."

"So I had to give an interview for the ghost hunters--"

"The what?"

Shit.

I had also, incidentally, been briefed on the NDA Mr. Ngo had signed to let the Archivists work in relative anonymity here. [maybe? hm.]

I groan, but make myself answer her. "There's some guys here looking into a bunch of local legends. They're going to take a few ghost tours, and they spent the day going around the graveyard with a tour guide to see the historically significant graves, and..."

"And...?" Her eyes shine.

"And they're spending a few nights ghost hunting in the graveyard, and I have to supervise."

"And...?"

"And...that includes tonight?"

"And...?" She looks me dead in the eye.

This time, I know what she means. "And it's the Haunted Archivists."

I wince as she shrieks, a hand over her mouth. "I knew it! I knew it. Oh my god, I'm so jealous." She hesitates, and I know she's trying to decide whether or not to ask me for a big, important favor.

"Absolutely not," I say, before she has a chance. "Mr. Ngo trusts me to handle things while he's away, and I'm not going to let someone into the graveyard at night!" Not to mention, I was still on thin ice with the archivists.

"You don't have to. Just leave the gate open just a smidge."

"No." She pouts, batting her eyes at me.

"Can I--"

I make a point of slurping loudly.

Josie groans, but accepts her fate.

#

Sunset falls on the graveyard, old trees and headstones casting strangely shaped shadows across the grass. I haven't had a chance to touch up that one portion, and wince. I take pride in my work, and this looks sloppy, half-finished. Still, nobody else seems to care. More than anything, they just grumble as I usher them out and lock the gate.

"Sorry, guys. You can visit again tomorrow."

There's some closing work to do -- sweeping the front of the office space, collecting any trash left over. It's nearing nine when I'm done, which means the Haunted Archivists are on their way for call time.

[transition, tbh could take out.]

A brief history of the Ouija board. [fill in with the ouija board history.]

And now, thanks to Hasbro and Hollywood's combined efforts, I'm sitting in a graveyard at the end of my latest double shift, loaded up on caffeine, watching a bunch of people figure out the best lighting by which to contact the dead.

"Do you guys need me for anything, or...?" I gesture helplessly. I feel useless standing around, but no visitors are allowed to be unsupervised at night, even if they do have filming permits.

"Um...No? Not really, sorry." Lourdes shrugs, but I don't think she's sorry.

"How long do you guys think you'll be setting up for? There's a patch of grass over there that I didn't get to mow this week, and I don't want to let it get much taller."

"You mow the grass at night?"

"Sure. I mean -- usually I do it at four or five in the morning, but I can make do."

[They say no, and instead she goes to tend to some of the flowers around the headstones, straightening them and brushing off debris.]

She doesn't text back right away. Weird, but not unheard of. I leave it be, and turn on the lawnmower and take care of what I can before Maddie lets me know it's time to start filming. I guess I'm making too much noise for the sound tech, so instead I follow Maddie back to the circle of light where the rest of the Archivists are finding their places.

I stop just short of the light as my phone rings, and pull it out to check if Mr. Ngo needs anything. But it's only Josie. Of course. I groan, and reject the call, instead sending a text to let her know I have to turn my phone on silent when cameras are rolling.

Mick and Lourdes (who i s2g need better names) sit on the ground on either side of their ouija board

and as theyre filming, another call this one with the emergency ringtonew.  "Josie, I told you, I'm busy with a film crew tonight." I'm half expecting her to tell me she's outside one of the gates and to pretty please let her in.

Instead, she's in tears. I can barely make out what she's saying, and I have to try a couple times to get her to calm down enough to speak in words.

I mouth an apology to the team and step away to continue the call. "Josie, it's okay. I'm here. Just tell me what's wrong."

"It's -- It's Renfield," she manages to cry out. "He's gone."

"What?"

My heart drops. Josie's ancient rescue cat, a fluffy black beast named Renfield. [something]

"What happened? Did you see where he went?"

"No -- I left the door open too long after bringing my box in, and he must have just..." She dissolved into tears once more.

"Okay, Josie, I'll help look for him. I promise. I can't... go too far right now, but I'll look around the apartment block, okay?"

"Okay."

I excuse myself to go look around the block closest to the graveyard, glancing back every now and then to ensure the lights and film crew hadn't gone too far. It wasn't going to be easy to find a black cat in the middle of the night, but I hoped sweeping my phone's flashlight around would be enough to catch his eyes reflecting in the shadows. But after a half hour of no luck, I feel obligated to return to the graveyard and check in on the film crew.

I'm just past the east gate when a shadow bolts past me. It's as tall as my shins, trailing a familiar smell of fur and tuna, and I take off after it without a thought.

Renfield's got his ears flat against his head, fur bristled so he looks twice as big as usual, but he's moving faster than I'd ever seen him go. I chase him across the green, twisting and turning through headstones, and part of me realizes that if it wasn't for my ex-girlfriend's ancient cat moving at super-feline speed, this would have been a fantastic workout.

"Come on, Renfield! Stop running!"

He doesn't listen. Instead, he bolts to the side, taking off towards the sphere of light where the Haunted Archivists have their ouija board set up. Lourdes and Mick sit on either side, hands on the planchette, but they're all watching with horror as Renfield nears the set.

"Catch him! Someone catch him!" I yell.

One of the gaffers makes a brave effort, but Renfield evades his grasp. He leaps between the two hosts, knocking the ouija board to the side and sending the planchette flying before disappearing into the dark.

"Sorry!" I yell, leaping after him, and finally tracking him to a large grave towards the back corner of the graveyard in the corner I hadn't managed to mow the other day. The grass is taller here, the headstones more faded and weathered.

He's snarling and hissing. It's more active than Renfield has been in years, and I hesitate, glancing around to make sure that nobody else is close enough to scare him. I flinch, catching sight of a shadowy figure over my shoulder, but it's nobody. Just a tree in the dark. I breathe out slowly, and bend down. "Renfield, it's me. Hi baby boy." He presses himself up against the wall, eyes bright and wild. "Come on, little boy, it's okay. It's me. Wanna smell?"

He hisses as my hand gets closer, but I must get close enough for Renfield to catch a whiff. He looks around, eyes fixated on a point over my shoulder, and refuses to move.

"What is it? Come on, it's just me." I look back anyway, but there's nothing there but the shadowy tree once more, naked branches casting strange shadows over the headstone. I recognize it as the place I'd first met Lucy, but it seems she decided against coming tonight. I force myself to ignore the disappointment, and tell myself I'm relieved instead. The last thing I needed was a troublemaker on top of everything else.

"There's nobody there, Renfield. Come on, it's okay. Come on."

Renfield's ears swivel towards me, and finally, he tears his eyes away from the tree and darts forward into my lap.

"There we go, good boy. Baby boy, you're okay." I hold him close, running a hand through his fur. "I've got him!" I shout over my shoulder, and the film crew's relieved cries echo over the graveyard.

He's too old to vocalize properly, but I recognize his snuffling and wheezing as his version of pleading meows. Poor thing hadn't been outside since he turned twelve a few years ago. He must be terrified.

I pause, looking to the side one last time. The tree remains a tree with the same heavy shadows as always.

"Come on, baby. Let's get you home." I press a kiss to the top of his head, and shift my weight, holding him with one arm to fish out my phone.

Josie picks up on the first ring. "Kaz?"

"I got him. He was in the graveyard."

"Oh thank god!" She starts crying all over again, but I hear the relief in her voice. "Is he okay?"

"A little scared, but nothing a good cuddle won't solve. Right, little man?" I hold the phone up to Renfield's face. He sniffs it, and wheezes his old, squeaky meow. "That's right, Renfield. We're taking you back to your mom."

Actually, hold that thought. 

I glance over to the Haunted Archivists. Maddie held the ouija board awkwardly, but all eyes were on me.

Screw it. They hated me enough as it was.

I hold the phone up to my ear again, and say, "Josie, do you wanna come meet me down at the graveyard?"

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[nani-nonny]

Reading ch 8, not going pass the title and am IMMEDIATELY smiling like a goofy, giddy idiot before trying to calm down and focus on reading!!

When i read that DMD and LCD were close to each other i for seconds forgot that " Achilles " is LCD and thought it was WDS and wondered 'hmm, what's wrong?' Until i finally remembered it's LCD and sucked air thinking 'WHY ARE YOU SO CLOSE?!? 6 FEETS FOR QUARANTINE!!'. Also DMD running away and - forcefully(?) - guiding everyone somewhere is like... A bit childish, bruh.

The fact the 4 can set up camp with no words or even glance at each other is like.. 👌🏻✨ please i need my IRL people do that.

Seeing that reunion start talking first i was thinking 'Of course he getting talk first! Old man gotta see people's tea!!'. And he asked about his name, my mind went 'oh boy! Oh boy! Come on buddy, don't show them you're 100% mama's boy, k?'.

Tho i admits i loved how big mama in reunion's time had retired.. Wonder if she's back with Splinter... And wonder if Someone took her place, maybe Donnie?

The moment he mentions ✨ After War ✨ and how everyone reacts to him ESPECIALLY LCD is just makes me go 'Aww! He's admiring him!🥺', it made my heart melt, like how kids see someone who did greater things and be like them?!

But the moment he 'bit' his tongue i was like WOW!!

Bro, the two - DMD & Reunion - are deflecting the questions as if they're playing Tennis!

WDS just result to begging is so me, feeling so done and don't want to be teased anymore and just wants straight answer. Reunion begin speechless made me think 'That's what you get for trying to sip other people's tea!!' But i liked how he used a dating sim game to describe the situation.

Now my brain went 'wait he lost everything? How? He won, his brothers are alive, the city is safe... Does he mean his childhood??'. So back to DMD giving out a short summary was good but LCD is a bit cringed or disgusted and i don't blame him! I don't think he can tell the truth but would he lies about his nickname's story??

AND DAMN IT WDS EXPOSED HIM!! Wonder what the ghosty brothers would say!!!😂 and when Reunion said 'father issues on top of mother issues?' I just laughed xD AND THE MIDDLE FINGER MAKES IT BETTER!!😂😂😂 their shenanigans is soo good! I live for this!! AND WDS ASKED FOR HIS AGE AGAHAHAHA!!!!😂😂😂

When WDS whispered 'I know' i was certain he'll gonna have to tell them about his *ahem* ear scratching! Lol.

But this chapter left me EVEN MORE EXCITED 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

This squad of peepaws is honestly bringing out the childishness that the peepaws have hidden deep behind the angst and Resistance Leader facade /j

And Reunion being a chismoso gives me *life* he has to know everyone’s business hahah!

In his timeline, Big Mama is like the granny that have those little porcelain dollies that are encased in the glass cabinets except it’s artifacts she hoarded from her big time boss era. She’s working with prosthetic legs trying to simply vibe in the weak society the turtles are trying to rebuild.

The memes!!! <333333

Old Timer is being looked up to for a brief second and it makes me happy :)))

But yes, Reunion has everything. He won the war and got his brothers back thanks to the past turtles resetting his timeline, but that doesn’t erase the fact that he had to lose everything in order to get it back. So he definitely has that lingering in the back of his mind that he often brings up in therapy. He lost the war once, and he’s glad he was able to beat it the second time around, hence his “reset”. (In simpler terms, the movie happened, but thanks to past turtles, they were able to turn back time and restart on a better note. Sadly, he and the future turtles remember dying.)

Anyways, we’ll have to see what LCD shares about his story after WDS’s turn hahah! And it should be WDS’s turn on the second night of their journey to saving the original Leo! (Next chapter)

[arizonatea-and-nikolatesla]

Chronicling my first time making bread except I don’t understand how baking works and I refuse to do more than skim a recipe

I followed the instructions on the back of the yeast packet (that’s been sitting on my spice rack for like a year? It was also open on the bottom but that seemed unimportant) but added twice the amount of water and sugar to twice the amount of yeast but then I realized that was for pizza crust- so I looked up a bread recipe so see how much flour I needed.

The recipe used instant yeast and I had active dry yeast? But like… yeast. So same thing. I used like 3 cups of flour and instead of adding however much water it said I just used the water I had put the yeast and sugar in.

I mixed up the water/yeast mixture with the flour after letting it sit for like probably 5 minutes. And then left it in a big bowl to like fluff up or whatever. The recipe said like 2 hours I think but I didn’t check the time and occasionally checked on it over the course of what I think was actually 3 hours? But who’s counting. No me. It said not to handle it too much but I didn’t read that until like… later. So I pulled the sides towards the middle to make it look like a nice ball.

After however many hours I checked on the dough and it looked… probably right. The recipe said something about putting it on a floured surface and shaping it with a weird square thingy and putting it in a Dutch oven with parchment paper???that seemed like a lot of work so I just divided the mixture into two bed pans- one I buttered and the other I just stuck in the fridge

I took the buttered one with the dough and remembered seeing a TikTok about steam or whatever? So I poured some water and garlic infused olive oil on top of the bread with some Italian seasoning- slapped some aluminum foil on it and called it a day. I forgot to preheat the oven (no I didn’t I just don’t preheat it ever) so I put it on 400 because that seems right? And left it.

After what seemed like enough time for bread to cook (I forgot to set a timer) I checked on the bread. It looked mostly cooked but kinda wet on the top so I took off the aluminum foil and put it back in.

Which leads us to now, as I am about to go downstairs and check on it- it seems like it’s been enough time to finish

The bread is not great. It definitely rose? (A tiny bit) And it didn’t stick to the pan, but it tastes kinda like hot flour or maybe pizza crust. I think I made a boring pizza. I will dip it in sause and put some cheese on it and see how it is.

Perhaps the other half of the dough in the fridge will turn out better

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hi! I love your writing so much! My request is just more of Eddie's water exposure therapy! I'd love to see Robin and Steve help and see how things play out. If not, that's totally cool too! Thanks for sharing your writing in the first place!

THANK YOU!!! You know what is super funny is I was working on this when you sent the other request yesterday. I loved exploring more of this post, and I think maybe I could keep doing so if I have time someday. I hope you love it! - Mickala ❤️

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

Eddie was committed to getting through this, he was.

It’s just that he hadn’t really thought about how fucking difficult it would be to have to do it with Nancy.

Nancy was strong-willed and badass and if Eddie was ever gonna be interested in women, it would be Nancy fuckin’ Wheeler.

But sometimes, like today, he needed someone soft. Someone who was okay with taking things slow.

She knew something was off the moment she walked in the door, but she didn’t comment on it until he was hovering by the sink in the bathroom.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if I can do it today.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just not a good day.”

“Sometimes those are the days you need to push yourself most.”

“And sometimes I just need a break! We’ve been doing this for five days. I’m tired.”

He was tired. And he was frustrated. He had a setback one day three that he still hadn’t completely recovered from and he barely slept last night and Wayne forgot to save him the leftovers he wanted so it was just a shit day.

“What if I get Robin?”

“I don’t see how that will help.”

“Sometimes a small change can help. She already said she’d do whatever you need.”

“Does she realize I’m naked? I feel like she must not know I’m naked. I don’t even think she’s seen Steve naked, and they practically live up each others’ assholes.”

“Thanks for that image.” Nancy shook her head as if she could shake the image out and forget it was ever there. “So. Robin or me?”

“Robin.”

And despite Eddie being kind of convinced that Robin wouldn’t actually come, she did. And she brought him gummy bears as a reward.

Nancy didn’t give him rewards.

Maybe Robin should be in charge.

Nancy went over things with Robin again, explained that today was a full minute under the water, that he had to be fully submerged except for his head, and that he did have to be naked.

“Well. If I must see a dude’s junk, I guess I’m glad it’s yours.”

“Gee, thanks, Robin,” he said as he stripped.

If he thought too much about it, he’d lock himself in his room and just never shower again.

But Robin turned away as he stripped to give him some semblance of privacy and he was grateful.

Nancy waited in the hall, said she’d be there if they needed her, but would rather keep it to just one of them in the bathroom with Eddie.

Robin turned the water on.

“You like hot or warm?”

“Hot.”

“Good. Give it a minute.”

The water hitting the shower floor was apparently enough to have him losing his shit today. He tensed up and waited with a towel wrapped around him, watching as Robin kept testing the temperature of the water every ten seconds.

Finally, she smiled at him and nodded.

“Do you want me to talk or just count in my head?”

“Usually Nancy just counts out loud.”

“Does that help?”

“It doesn’t not help.”

“Would something else be better?”

“Uh. I guess try talking?”

“You got it.” Robin opened the bathroom door for a moment, said something, then closed the door again.

“Nancy’s got a kitchen timer ready to start when I knock on the door. You ready?”

“No, but I have to be.”

“I got all day.”

It did help to hear that. He knew, logically, no one would rush him, but sometimes he was worried that they’d give up on him if he took too long.

Like, he knew he was already pushing his luck just having them around for his everyday theatrics, so this was just icing on the cake.

But Robin didn’t make him feel like he had to worry about that and that already helped.

It’s not that Nancy rushed him, it’s just that she was a very straight to the point person. In or out. Shit or get off the pot.

Robin was the opposite in a lot of ways.

More of a, we’ll get there when we get there and we’ll stop to look at flowers on the way, kind of person.

She just watched as he stood by the shower, playing with his hair.

He took a deep breath, dropped the towel, and got in.

“Alright, good! You let me know when you’re in the water and I’ll knock and start chatting.”

Eddie could do this. He could.

So he did.

“In.”

He heard Robin knock as he clenched his teeth together and felt the water run down his shoulders and back.

Robin had picked the perfect temperature, not scalding, but hot enough to leave his skin pink. Just like he liked it.

“That’s how Steve likes his baths, which I tell him all the time is why he gets so lightheaded. You’re cooking yourselves. I’m realizing that I might be the emotional support bathing bestie. I sit with Steve when he has baths and now you with the shower. Is this all I’m good for?”

Eddie let out a strangled laugh.

It was helping, but he was still struggling to focus on anything except how stifling the water felt, how the steam building around him was starting to feel too much like fog and the drops were feeling too much like his own blood spattering on his body.

“Time?” He managed to croak out.

“Nance! Time?”

“20 seconds!”

“That’s not bad! Tell me your favorite Metallica song right now.”

He knew the answer. He opened his mouth to do it, but couldn’t say anything.

“Eddie? You okay?”

He tried to speak again, but it was just a whimper.

The water was too much.

He jumped out of the shower, nearly knocking Robin over in his escape.

He was shivering, though his skin was hot to the touch from the water, and Robin was already recovering and wrapping his towel around him.

Nancy was opening the door, worried eyes peeking around the corner.

“Listen to my voice, Eddie. Take in a deep breath. Slowly.”

It was easy to listen to Robin.

She didn’t hesitate to wrap him up in her arms, rubbing her hands up and down his back as he tried to breathe.

Nancy was standing in the doorway, not saying or doing anything, just a silent presence there to assist if needed.

He could feel Robin’s heart beating hard in her chest, so hard it felt like it was trying to jump into his chest.

But he was calming down now.

He pulled away and sat down on the floor, towel still loosely wrapped around him.

Robin shut off the shower, quickly joining him on the floor and waving Nancy away.

“You’re good at this.”

“Well, somebody has to be there for Steve when he’s having a bad day. I’ve gotten plenty of practice.”

“Is he this bad?”

“Oh, on his real bad days, he’s worse. And yes, you absolutely should hold that over him. Maybe then he’ll accept help from someone other than just me.”

He rested his head on her shoulder, smiling when she rested her head on his.

“You should have him come help.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why? Because you have a big stupid crush on him?”

“Why, yes, Robin. That’s exactly why.”

He knew she was rolling her eyes, but he didn’t care.

“You’re both so stupid, it gives me a stomach ache.”

Eddie didn’t think about what she said, just sat in silence as she started playing with his fingers.

“Want me to come back tomorrow?”

“Yeah, please.”

————

Robin came back for three days in a row, and Eddie managed to stay under the water until the timer went off every time.

He was scared to think about what would happen if he started to fail again.

But with Robin constantly talking his way through it, he couldn’t worry for long.

————

“Eddie.”

Oh no.

Robin’s voice was so scratchy, and dull, and not Robin.

She was sick.

Nancy wasn’t available today or tomorrow.

He couldn’t do this alone.

“It’s okay, Robs. I’ll…call Steve.”

“Good. Sorry again.”

She didn’t sound nearly as sorry as when he first answered the phone, but it wasn’t worth arguing about.

He paced the floor of his room for nearly ten minutes before he gave in and just dialed Steve’s number.

“Harrington residence, Steve speaking.”

“Oh, you have one of those homes. Gross.”

“Eds!”

“Hey, Stevie.”

Eddie knew his face was doing that stupid smile he only did for Steve, a combination of fond and content that he’d never been able to give anyone else.

“Everything good?”

“Well, kinda no?”

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked quickly, his tone changing from casual excitement to concern.

“You remember what Nancy told you about the uh…exposure therapy?”

“Yeah, how’s that going?”

Eddie sighed. Steve was so fucking nice all the time. It wasn’t fair.

“It’s not terrible. Robin’s helped for a few days. But uh.”

“What is it?”

“Robin’s sick and Nancy’s out of town. I can’t skip a day, especially not when I’ve been on a roll, ya know? So I was wondering if maybe, and you can say no I’ll do it alone if I have to, maybe you’d be willing to come play therapist?”

That wasn’t so hard. It was awkward, certainly, but not too bad.

“I’ll be right over,” Steve said quickly and hung up.

Eddie didn’t mean right this second necessarily, Jesus.

But if Steve wanted to help this badly, then who was he to stop him from rushing over?

And rush he did.

It wasn’t 15 minutes later that Steve was at his door.

“Where’s the fire, man?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind,” Eddie smiled at him. “Do you remember what Nancy said about all this?”

“Yeah. How long are you up to?”

“Minute and a half. Or I have to turn the water on and adjust the temperature myself and do a minute. But I don’t wanna try something new today, so minute and a half it is.”

Steve nodded along, but Eddie swore he looked nervous. Like he was hesitant to even be here. He needed to offer him an out.

“Listen, I can just wait. Skipping a day or two isn’t really gonna make a big difference in the long run.”

“No!” Steve suddenly shouted. “No. I want to help. I want to be here for you.”

“Oh,” Eddie looked down at his feet, hoping it would hide the blush on his cheeks. “Okay then.”

So he led Steve to the bathroom. He set the kitchen timer but didn’t start it yet.

Steve was standing by the shower, shifting his weight between his legs anxiously. He looked more nervous than Eddie even felt.

“Nancy and Robin usually turn the water on and make sure it’s hot for me. Robin said it’s like how you like it?”

“Got it.”

He turned to the faucets, adjusting them for a few seconds and then pulling back as he waited for the water to heat up.

“You can strip, I’ll turn around.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure.”

Eddie knew he sounded ridiculous.

You’ve taken showers before, idiot.

But the difference here was that Steve was about to be here to see him at his weakest, at least emotionally. And he’d be naked.

Going off of how much Nancy and Robin had to see of him, Steve would be getting an eyeful too.

“You okay?”

Eddie shook himself out of his thoughts.

“I’m okay. Sorry.”

He threw his shirt off and unbuttoned his pants before he could overthink it.

Steve had seen most of him when he was helping change his bandages after the bats snacked on him. It wasn’t a big deal.

Steve at least pretended to be paying more attention to the water and floor as he pulled his legs from his pants and slid his boxers off.

“Water’s good. You ready?”

Steve looked at his face, clearly avoiding any chance of seeing anything below the waist.

Probably locker room courtesy or something, though if you asked him, making eye contact was way more intimate than accidentally seeing someone else’s dick.

“Ready.”

Steve moved to the sink as he got in, probably grabbing the kitchen timer to start it the second he got under the water.

It took him a minute, the hot water hitting his toes gently.

But he took a deep breath, turned his back to the stream, and backed into the water.

“I’m in.”

The first part was getting easier to do, he’d admit that. It was easier to stay in the moment while the water first started hitting him, easier to speak for the first 15 or so seconds before he was completely soaked.

But then it was quiet. He couldn’t hear anything except the water beating down on him and the shower floor.

Steve wasn’t saying anything and Eddie didn’t know how to ask him to.

He didn’t want to sound needy, Steve was already giving up time out of his day to be here at all.

How long had it been? Probably not that long.

It felt like years.

The water was the perfect temperature, and that kind of helped him remember this was a shower, not the end of the fucking world.

The end of the world doesn’t care about your comfort.

Steve does though.

But after another ten or so seconds, the buzzing in his ears got louder, he could feel his body shaking as if the water had suddenly turned ice cold, and the thoughts rushing through his head were more memories he wished he could forget.

He still felt the water, but it wasn’t water anymore. It was blood and bats and doctor’s hands trying to just stop the bleeding.

And then he felt actual hands on him, a body against him pushing him so the water was barely touching him.

He took a gasping breath and collapsed against them.

Steve.

He was fully clothed, like he’d panicked and jumped in without thinking about it at all. He had his arms wrapped around Eddie tightly, not leaving an inch of space between them. He was muttering something, but Eddie couldn’t quite hear what it was.

He let himself be held, no longer in panic mode with his human shield protecting him from the water.

“How long?”

Steve was rubbing his back, spreading a new warmth against his skin and helping, always helping.

“One minute.”

Eddie sighed. He didn’t wanna tell Nancy that he failed today.

She wouldn’t make him feel bad intentionally, but she got this look on her face when he didn’t make it to the timer going off like she wasn’t sure he could get through it.

“You wanna get out?”

“Please.”

Steve pulled away so he could shut off the water and Eddie got a good look at him.

He was soaked, his clothes sticking to him uncomfortably, his hair matted down against his head.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I made the choice.”

He did, yeah. But he probably felt obligated to, and that’s not really making a choice, is it?

“Eds, look at me.”

He’d been looking at the floor, kind of hoping it would just swallow him up for good, but managed to pull his head up when Steve asked.

“I’ll always, always, make the choice to help you. Okay?”

Eddie bit back a sob as he nodded, and Steve pulled him against his chest again.

“You have no clue how much I wanna be here for you. When Nancy called, I practically begged to be here, did she tell you that? But she said it wouldn’t be helpful if I jumped in the moment you needed me.”

“Helped now.”

Steve squeezed his arms.

“Yeah. She won’t be happy with me. But you weren’t answering and when I looked in, it’s like you weren’t even here. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Eddie nodded. That lined up with what he’d been feeling, seeing.

“We should get out. You’re shivering.”

Steve guided him out of the shower and wrapped the towel he’d left hanging up around him, rubbing along his arms and back to help get him warmer faster.

Then he was taking off his shirt and removing his belt and Eddie’s brain couldn’t catch up.

“Uh.”

“Sorry, do you have some clothes I can borrow while I put these in the dryer?”

“Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

Steve smiled at him like he didn’t just break his brain in half.

He managed to walk to his bedroom, grab a shirt and sweatpants, and walk back to the bathroom with only a single thought running through his mind: he’s wearing my clothes.

“Thanks,” Steve said as Eddie wordlessly handed them over.

And then he realized he forgot boxers.

Steve would be wearing his sweatpants with nothing under them.

He knew the noise he let out was close to a squeak, like a fucking mouse or something, but he couldn’t hold it in. Steve didn’t acknowledge it, hopefully didn’t hear it at all, as he focused on getting his soaked jeans off his body.

Then his boxers came off.

Eddie really did his best not to look. He did. It would be so rude to stare.

It would be even more rude to say something.

So he did both.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. The girls weren’t kidding were they?”

Steve’s face was bright red, but he didn’t look up until he was pulling the sweatpants up his legs.

“I guess that depends what they were saying.”

Eddie was still standing with his towel wrapped around him, eyes wide at everything that had just happened.

“For one, that you’re pretty well-endowed. I thought they just lacked experience. Maybe I’m the one lacking experience. Maybe you’re just huge.”

Steve was smirking at him, the confidence of the king coming back as he listened to Eddie.

“That so?”

“God, yeah. I’m never gonna be able to be with anyone again after seeing that.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Steve was stepping into his space now, still shirtless, still smirking.

“I mean, look at you. How could I ever be satisfied with someone else inside me when I could have that?”

Oh. Wait. No. He wasn’t supposed to be saying this out loud.

Steve’s hands were on his hips, though.

Gripping him tight, like he had no intention of letting him go.

“You want that? With me?”

Well, might as well lay it all out there.

“I want everything with you. Anything you’ll give me.”

“Everything?” Steve was still smirking, that asshole. “So if I wanted to take you out on a date…”

“A date?”

“Yeah. To dinner or something.”

“We can’t go on a date, Steve. We’re two men in bumfuck Indiana. We’d be killed.”

“How about I make you dinner? My place. Tonight?”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not, but hopefully I will be,” he said with a wink.

“Steve. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m like, kind of in love with you, full disclosure, and I’m not sure I can handle one date, a fuck, and then you never wanting to even talk to me again.”

Steve watched as he rambled, running his thumbs along Eddie’s hips like he was trying to keep him calm.

“Full disclosure, I’m kind of in love with you, too. I mean, I did just jump in a shower fully clothed to make sure you weren’t gonna hurt yourself. I’d do it every day if I had to.”

Eddie searched his face for any sign of a lie. Steve was easy to read, or at least he was to Eddie.

But Steve was giving him a fond smile, and moving in closer, and Eddie didn’t see any sign of a lie.

Steve’s hand cupped his jaw. He was looking at him like he was special, and Eddie wasn’t sure what to do with it.

And then Steve was kissing him.

He dropped the towel. It was accidental, but he wasn’t going to interrupt any of this to pull it back up.

Steve was an intense kisser. He should’ve known.

He put everything he had into it. He kissed with his whole body, quite literally putting his back into it as he pushed Eddie against the wall.

But Eddie wasn’t doing this in his bathroom. Despite the fact that he was very obviously willing to, he wanted to have the date first.

He pulled away, but stayed in Steve’s arms. He wasn’t quite ready for complete separation.

“You’re making me dinner tonight?”

“I’m making you dinner tonight.”

“And it’s a date?”

“It’s a date.”

“It’s a date.”

————

Steve came every day after that, even on days when Robin or Nancy were already there.

He sometimes waited in the hall as backup, but usually he stayed in the bathroom and talked to Eddie, who’d managed to get up to three whole minutes in only a few weeks.

When he finally made it to five, Nancy handed it all over to Steve.

He started taking showers with Eddie. Washing his body and hair so he could have more positive thoughts.

By the end of the year, he was taking regular showers.

He still had moments where he panicked, of course. He still sometimes had to cut them short because of a specific memory.

He still sometimes went a few days without because he couldn’t build up the courage to get in.

But Steve was there. They all were.

[hangster-hangout]

The Love Chicken

“My dad said he knew my mom was the one over a bottle of wine and the best roast chicken he ever had.”

“And now you’re making it for Hangman. So he can figure out that you’re the one.”

“Something like that.”

Bradley cooks for Jake. It goes even better than expected. 

(post canon, getting back together, straight up sweet fluff)

The ridiculously catchy intro to an old Fall Out Boy song cuts through the classic rock station he has on. Phoenix.

Bradley puts her on speaker as he sautés the green beans and glances at the timer on the stove. 

“Hard deck in an hour?”

“Can’t. Plans.”

“With Hangman? Bring him along.”

“Maybe later.” The timer set for the potatoes goes off and it takes Natasha about two seconds to put it together.

“Are you…cooking for him?” And Bradley is a lot of things but he’s not a great liar so while he tries to think of a way to change the subject, Natasha lets out a low whistle. “It’s going to be different this time, right?”

Because she was there for the first time, the messy fights and makeups that never truly fixed things. Bradley and Jake had something that burned so bright but crashed before it truly had a chance to take off, both of them falling too fast and terrified the other wasn’t.

Bradley was going to make sure it was different this time. 

“Yeah. It already is. These last two weeks…” After the mission he and Jake had been damn near inseparable. At first, Bradley thought Jake just needed to see him, needed proof he really did survive. But the more hours they spent together, laughed together, the more Bradley realized this is what it was supposed to be like. 

Bradley was aware he never truly got over Jake, but he forgot just how desperately he loved him. And unlike all those years ago, he was finally courageous enough to tell him. 

“My dad said he knew my mom was the one over a bottle of wine and the best roast chicken he ever had.”

“And now you’re making it for Hangman. So he can figure out that you’re the one.”

“Something like that.” It’s a testament to how nervous he must sound that she doesn’t make fun of him. 

“What time is he coming over?” Bradley glances at the clock. 

“Five minutes. But it’s Jake so-“ he hears a rustling of keys in the door. “Oh god, he’s here.”

“You got this Bradshaw. Enjoy the Love Chicken.” And Bradley barely has enough time to hang up and toss his phone on the counter before Jake walks in. 

“You said to bring a bottle of wine but I weirdly don’t know if you’re a red or white guy so,” he holds up his hands, a bottle in each. “I brought both.” Jake looks between the roast chicken resting on the stovetop and the kitchen table set with actual cloth napkins. “You trying to wine and dine me so you can tell me you need help burying a body?”

“Can’t a guy do something nice?” Rooster rolls his eyes and gets the roasted potatoes out of the oven. Jake lets out a low whistle. 

“Oh this is very nice. I love roasted potatoes.”

“I know.” Bradley says and he turns to the vegetables so Jake doesn’t see the red flush coloring his cheeks. 

They open the red wine and have an easy conversation over dinner, only arguing about the superior movie in the Mighty Ducks franchise.

“But the Bash Brothers! And the knuckle puck!” Jake waves his fork around and Bradley laughs but doesn’t give in. He’ll never bet against the original, that movie helped raise him.

He takes a deep breath, knowing that dinner is near over and its time to actually talk to Jake. Bradley puts his hands on his thighs, forcing them to be still and is about to start talking when Jake swallows another bite of chicken and makes a satisfied sound.

“Jesus Bradshaw, you cook like this again for me and I’ll marry you.” Jake leans back in his seat and the sunlight hits his golden hair just so perfectly and before he knows it Bradley is blurting out:

“Okay.”

It’s silent. Jake’s eyes pop open and Bradley can feel his cheeks start to heat up, the flush working its way up his neck. There’s no way he can play this off as a joke, no way to take it back. It was too serious, too honest and too revealing of everything he ever wanted.

“Shit,” Bradley mutters under his breath. “Shit Jake, I’m sorry, I made this dinner to talk to you about maybe giving us a shot, like a real one.” The words don’t stop coming out and Bradley starts talking even faster. “Because you’re really important to me and I want a relationship with you because I think, no, I know you’re the one and-“

He’s interrupted by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. A second later he has a lapful of Jake Seresin and he has barely enough time to register the shock before he is being kissed. 

And oh boy is Bradley being kissed. 

It’s different from the ones they shared before, kissing Jake was always incredible but it had an undercurrent of competition and neither every truly let themselves get lost in it. This was nothing like that. The walls were down for both of them and they were both, finally, all in. 

Bradley’s not sure how long they stay like that until Jake moves his head slightly back and rests his forehead against Bradley’s. 

“Holy shit. I really might marry you.” Jake’s voice is full of wonder. Bradley rolls his eyes but brings his hands up to cup Jake’s face.

“Typical, you fly right from being friends to being engaged.” On the last word, a shiver runs through Jake.

“I’m dead serious, baby.” Jake says and Bradley’s heart is about to literally leap out of his chest. He stares at Jake for a second more and smiles.

“I already said yes, didn’t I?”

—

Later, as they are tangled up in bed and Bradley’s head is resting on Jake’s bare chest, Jake leans over to check the time on his phone. He chuckles and Bradley look up at him, one eyebrow raised.

“A new message in the group chat.” Jake holds his phone out for Bradley to see.

Phoenix: So are you two boyfriends?

“That’s presumptuous to send it to everyone.” Bradley snorts and Jake laughs. 

“Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who didn’t realize i was a sure thing.” And even after everything that happened over the last few hours, hearing it still makes Bradley smile. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jake runs a hair through Bradley’s curls. “I’ve been crazy about you since like…five minutes after we met. Hasn’t really stopped.” Bradley adjusts himself so he’s next to Jake.

“Never stopped for me either. Doubt it ever will.” And Jake smiles and Bradley thinks ‘yeah, this is it.’

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

Hangman: Fiancées actually. See y’all Monday.

And they turn off their phones and fall back together.

[goddess-evelle]

Hey bb could u write a sapnap and dream x reader polyamorous smut were they get into a fight and they make y/n cry and they try to make it up to her by doing nice things or sm but she is still hurt about it so ( with CONSENT) they decide to please her until she is sobbing and begging them to stop ( there is n established safe word if she really wanted them to stop she'd say the safe word) but they don't stop and praise and coaxe her through many orgasms and then they take care of her as she's all sensitive and twitchy under there touch

Better without me

A/n: I went off on this, so I will make a second part finishing it.

Warnings: Mention of neglect towards the reader, angst, very much hurtful thoughts. Smut in the next part. SFW. Slightly suggestive or provocative acts, also slight girl on girl action;)

Dream x Sapnap x fem reader

Words: 2,1??- I don't even know why I wrote so much.

As the dumb bitch that I am I forgot I made two different parts of this one of them that I discarded, so yeah that was a mess, but I fixed it.

Part 1 (You are here now)

Part 2

“I understand, but I just want to spend time with my boyfriends” Your voices cracks as you try to make light into the situation.

“No Y/n, you do not fucking understand. You don’t know what is like to spend hours on hours playing. Just to finally finish and have to spend ten more hours editing. You don’t understand how it is! You should be more considerate when you fucking ask us to ‘spend time with you’ ” Dream’s words come flying out as the three of you had been arguing for what felt like hours. Your reply got stuck in your throat as Sapnap started talking.

“Exactly like you are always bitching about wanting to be with us, but you never do shit for us. You know that we are both busy working. You are so fucking annoying.” Sapnap’s words eco through your mind. Were you really that annoying? Maybe you were just being too clingy towards the boys. You just wanted to spend time with them. Sapnap and Dream were in a relationship while the three of you were roommates, and a part of you always felt as if you had missed on a big part of the relationship, so you tried to spend time with them to make up for the lost time. Now, with Sapnap saying that you are annoying you can only feel as if you intrude into their relationship. Your mind flooded with thoughts of them just being in a relationship with you just because you lived with them; maybe they didn’t even love you. Your own mind created scenarios in your head as your insecurities took over you. They obviously didn’t love you or they would spend time with you. If they loved you they would make time for you. If they loved you they would’ve been more attentive of you. If they loved you they would pay attention to you. These thoughts kept your mind busy, and finally everything clicked. You finally understood why you felt so out of place all the time.

“You are not even listening to us!” Dreams shakes a hand in front of you face trying to gain your attention again, and you wonder just for how long had you been thinking.

“Honestly, y/n we can spend time together later . We have to film manhunt. Go do something or I don’t fucking know.” Sapnap says, but you are not listening to what he is saying. They leave and you are left in the bedroom alone. You look around the room for your phone as you look at the hour, and put 10 minutes on the timer. You wait patiently as the 10 minutes pass by as you lay on the bed looking at the ceiling. You close your eyes for what feels like a second before you hear the alarm go off. You grabbed your phone stopping the alarm, and texting your best friend to get ready; you both were going out. You got dressed with a simple dress quickly. You did your hair, and makeup as you made your way towards the front door. You just needed to leave; you had been suffocating the boys with your presence for too long. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you made your way towards the front door only to be stopped by a furry friend. You smiled sadly looking at the cat laying on front of you.

“Oh, sweet thing don’t worry. I will see you in a bit.” You say as you scratch Patches head. The cat looks up at you as if she understands. You give her a little kiss on the nose before grabbing your keys of the house. You make your way outside the door only to see your neighbor right next to where your car is.

“Hi, good afternoon.” You say politely.

“Hi, I didn’t know you guys were going out.” He says looking at you suspiciously.

“Oh, um yeah, just me. The boys are kind of busy.” You try to lie, but you know that by the redness on your face he might catch up to your lie. He looks at you to try and decipher if you think he is stupid or something. Before he could answer you say a quick goodbye as you climb into your car, and start the car getting ready to drive. It takes you 40 minutes to get to your friend’s house to talk to her. After venting to her for an hour; you both went to the club. You just needed to forget about the boys’ words for a bit. You look at your phone before you go inside the club to see the hour 12:59am. Good hour to be on a club you think as you make your way towards the bar with your friend. Time passes by like a blink as you drink, and dance with your friend. Before you know it you are in the middle of the dance floor as you dance with your friend.

You look around the club to see two familiar faces, but you are too drunk to remember their names. You do know that they won’t stop looking at you, so you take advantage that you are with a friend to tease a little. There is no ill will if you tease them. You turn towards your friend pulling her closely to you. She is taller than you which helps the case. You whisper in her ear that there are two hot boys looking at you, and that you wanted to give them a show. She looks to where you tell her; she finds Dream and Sapnap looking at the two of you from a far. She laughs knowing that you love the boys so much that you even find their stare in a crowded club while you are drunk. She sees that the boys look mad, but knowing plenty of your sexual experiences with the boys from what you’ve told her. She knows you’ll just love to tease them, so that they punish you. She agrees to help you, so your wrap your hand around her neck as you make eye contact with the boys. They move slightly closer, so that they can see you under the disco light. Your skin glows under the purple light that reflects off your shoulder and leg. The boys watch as you kiss your friend’s neck while looking at them. You slowly give mouth opened kisses to her skin maintaining eye contact. You glide your tongue on her skin slowly tasting the sweet cookie dough cologne on her skin.

You turn your back on your friend facing towards the boys as you grab your friend’s hands, and glide them down your body taking extra time on your boobs, and your stomach stopping at your pelvic bone. You grind your ass back on your friend’s pelvis looking at the boys seeing as the taller boy tries to make his way towards you, but the smaller boy holds him back mumbling something that you could only decipher as “let’s see what she does”. You smirk as them as you make sexier moves against your friend; your hands grab her neck pulling it towards you, and she understands what you want. She pretends to give you a kiss on your neck as you roll your head back letting out a fake moan that the boys don’t hear, but they can imagine that you are in pleasure. You look over them to see a bulge in both of their pants; you smirk noticing that they are both big as you take swing of your beer finishing it completely. You give big gulps showing that you in fact swallow before turning to be front to front with your friend. You repeat the kisses on her neck while looking at the boys, and you feel your own breath getting heavier. You look over to see the smaller boys rub over the taller boy’s bulge; you feel your panties get wetter at the action. You turn to your friend and move forward to give her a kiss, but before you can make contact with her lips you feel a pair of arms pulling you away. You look up to see the taller boy holding you in his arms looking awfully angry at you. You scurry off his embrace as you tell them that you don’t want anything with them. The guy gets a tighter grip on you, and you try to move away only to be sandwiched into the body of the smaller guy.

“Y/n look at me; you know who I am” You look up at the mention of your name; to find Dream staring down at you.

“Oh h- hey D-dream what are you doing here?” You say mind still too gone to make coherent sentences.

“Um yeah, she got very drunk. Saying something about not being good enough for the two of you” Your friend intervenes. Dream looks at Sapnap behind you to give Sap a worried look.

“So, everything that she was flirting with us; she didn’t do it to be a brat?” Sapnap asks confused.

“Well, she wanted to ‘tease two hot guys’ that’s what she said, so even as she was drunk. She is still attracted to the two of you” Your friend smiles remembering “I remember when you guys became a couple. She felt so out of place because she liked the two of you. She was going to move in with me to not disturb you two. She is really in love with the two of you, so whatever the fuck the two of you did. You better fix it or I will take her to live with me. The poor girl drove all the way to my house to spend an hour crying about how the two of you didn’t love her” Your friend reproaches your boyfriends as you are finding comfort in the tall man’s arms your mind not even paying attention to their conversation as you admire the hot boys.

“She- she really thought we didn’t love her?” Dream’s voice cracks as he looks down at you where you are staring at him lovingly.

“Yes, she always thought that she was ruining your relationship, and with the things you told her she felt like you guys just wanted to break up with her.” Your friend says giving the boys a bad look. “So, you guys take her with you. I’ll drive her car to my place; I didn’t drink, so I will be fine. How did you find her anyways?”

“We have an app to share location at any moment, so we know she is safe” Sapnap said as he led the way towards their car. They bid their goodbyes to your friend. Dream got in the driver’s seat as Sapnap went in the back with you. You sat next to Sapnap looking at the boy as you guys drove home.

“I can’t believe I’m going home with two hot boys. You guys chose me over all the girls in the club” You say your words stinging in the boys’ heart as they took a peek on what you thought of them.

“Well, to be honest. I was surprised; I thought you’d have a boyfriend” Dream says smoothly.

“I mean yeah. I used to have two boyfriends at the same time! Can you believe that? Two people loved me at the same time! Me!” you talked with surprise laced in your voice and the boys swallowed a lump in their throat as they saw how much you worshipped your relationship with them.

“Huh you must love them a lot” Sapnap said voice trembling as he watched your eyes shine.

“Of course, I do! They are the best boys I know. They are literally so perfect, but I don’t think they love me that much”

“Why do you think that?” This time Dream asked as his voice cracked at the change in demeanor you were clearly sad now.

“Well, they are just so perfect that sometimes I think they don’t need me. I think they would be even happier without me. I feel like I’m just ruining their relationship.” Sapnap is crying by the time you finish your statement. The boys can’t believe you would say such a thing. Did they really make you feel that way? They both felt so bad. Sapnap can’t help, but to leap in to hug you. His tears falling on your shoulder as you accept his hug still in your drunken state.

“But it’s okay if they don’t love me. They still have each other, and they are totally soulmates. So, if I leave; they will still be happy with each other.” You finish as Dream pulls into the driveway.

Part 2