#our other best friend came over and my roommate mentioned that hes here but never anything past that

[victim9d]

hm.

[peterthepark]

𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

tags: mmf threesome, oral sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, piv, anal, double penetration, dirty talk, dom!eddie, dom!steve, sub!reader, best friends with benefits, mentions of virginity, hair-pulling, breeding kink, throatfucking, squirting, praise and degradation, everyone is horny

summary: back home from school, you recount about your time away in college with steve and eddie, leading to a sexual proposition that you never would’ve expected.

notes: pure filth, forgive me if it is hard to visualize positions… threesomes are very messy and crazy to write! feedback and reblogs appreciated :)

There’s a veering shift in the way they look at you. Maybe it’s because you’ve been gone for so long, so out of the loop, nothing but a modulated grainy voice on the other end of a call line, or a lingering scent in the back of their closets — jasmine, soap, the smell of girl and all things sweet, a tang of Eddie’s favorite green bud. 

You want to believe it’s because they’ve missed you, they always do, but it’s different. 

The way they each hug you, toned arms locked tightly around your waist, dragging and dragging upwards until it’s slung over your shoulder possessively and Steve’s perfectly-curved nose is in the tangles of your hair.

Ours. Ours. Ours.

You may have been gone for almost a year, but you’re still their girl.

“Look at you, dressin’ all tough and shit now!” Eddie grins proudly, tugging the hem of your skull shirt towards him as he tenderly presses your head to his chest. You nearly stumble on your boots, nothing but a shy smile ghosting the curl of your upper lip as he runs his thumb along your brow bone and you inhale him in with fluttering lashes. “You copying me? Stealing my style, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. His gorgeous best friend. Wiser, older now, prettier — well, you’ve always been pretty, but now, you’ve really grown into your features. 

A year, it’s only been a fucking year and yet you still look this good. Better. Knocking the wind out of him, just to breathe it back between his lips.

“You should be flattered,” You shake your head at him, clasping a hand over his shoulder as you gaze over at Steve with admirable regard. There’s emphasis on every word that falls from your taunting smirk as he steps up your front porch. “You should be flattered I chose your clothes over Harrington’s preppy mom-jeans and—“

Then you’re being crushed, wedged between two warm bodies and clashing scents of woodiness and lavender as Steve wraps himself around you. 

“You’re talking mad shit about me now, Y/N? All this time, thought I was your favorite — hey, I know that face — I am certain I was your favorite. I was before this one,” He ruffles Eddie’s hair roughly, beaming at either of you. “Came along and practically hypnotized you with his — his rings and his music and his…”

“Shut up and just say you missed me already.” You pull Steve closer to you, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck as Eddie rests his chin on the top of your scalp. It’s a chorus of can’t believe you’re back, crazy you left us in the first place, you’re here, we’re gonna spend so much time together. You can only smile, feeling their love spill out of their respective cups and into yours as you pull them into the house. “Saps.”

Your childhood bedroom of pinks and blues and whites feels exceptionally, jarringly smaller. 

Steve and Eddie take up so much space — long legs and big socked feet, sharp jaws and curious eyes as you sit out on the fluffy beige carpet, sifting through the contents of your suitcase as you tell them stories about wild parties, about classes, about your messy roommates and about professors who didn’t know how to teach.

‘Listen, I loved Chicago, but I’ll always love Hawkins.’

‘Hello? The only reason you like Hawkins is because of us.’

‘Still you and your ego, Harrington.’

You don’t tell them about the boys, about the crushes and what kind of antics you got up to in the absence of them. Of them, their protectiveness, their touch, gentle and fleeting and borderline blurring the lines of friendship. 

There was an ache for Steve and Eddie — far from platonic, short of romantic, closer to a sexual awakening than anything. The nights where you called, feeling the baritone of their deep snappy voices over the phone as they fought over for a turn, that dreaded dial tone when the line had gone dead and you were left with an emptiness, a twisting heat in your stomach as you replayed their words over and over again before you slept: Miss you. Come home, pretty girl.

You can’t help but wonder what they got up to while you spent nights in the dorms tossing and turning to the thought of either of them. There’s only so many ways you can quietly lull yourself to a blissful sleep in a shared room.

“Mmm, what do we have here?” Eddie breaks up the childish bantering between you and Steve with a curious tone, waving a flimsy stack of polaroids between his forefinger and middle. 

No. No. Absolutely not. Not fucking now.

“Okay, Eddie. Maybe not…” Your laugh is frantic and near-alarmed, hands already reaching out for him until he’s gently swatting you away. “… not that one. Hey, no.”

“Cold case, hard evidence of little Y/N’s college escapades?” He quirks a beady brow, tongue wiggling against his front teeth as he winks at Steve and rambles on in amusement. “Do you… do you hear that? Oh, oh! Eddie, pssst, pssst, Eddie… look at me!”

“Give it back, asswipe.”

“Is Y/N guilty or…” He cards through the pictures, lines dimpling around his pursed lips as a wicked grin starts to split his face in half. “Innocent?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Stupid. You should have taken this into account, boys and their lack of respect for privacy, your boys and their habit of sticking their noses where they aren’t fucking supposed to. Eddie and his big greedy mouth, yapping and yapping until he’s dragged good ol’ Steve into his influential mess — you’re trapped between the two brunettes, pleading to Ozzy that they save you from the embarrassment and just move on with their lives.

It’s the worst picture out of the stack. So much for “it’s all about preserving the memory, you know, you’re only young once.” 

Memory or not, it was supposed to be for your eyes only. 

Not Steve’s. Not Eddie’s. 

They stare at a blurry photo of you, very topless and covered in bruising hickies, your smile split into a hearty laugh as a green lime dangles from between your teeth and Some Blond Guy licks up a trail of salt off of the horizon of your pretty tummy. 

“Oh, my god.” Steve gapes. “Dude. Body shots?”

“Guys…”

“Don’t guys us, who is this rat-faced son of a bitch that’s practically making out with your stomach?” Eddie’s brows furrow, jealousy dripping from his tone. He’s trying to lead with the playful card, but it’s difficult — difficult when he’s looking at a picture of a guy (who looks like he’s fucking named Brad) basically violating you.

“He’s… a friend. Just a friend.”

Steves laughs unconvinced, “Ah, friend. Guys and girls… they can’t be friends.”

“You’re friends with Robin.” You frown.

“Robin’s gay, you idiot.” Eddie flicks the back of your head.

“Okay, right! Fine! She’s an exception, though.” You scoff. This conversation is unbelievable. “Well, us then? We’re friends.”

Friends. It’s a weird word. People say the l-bomb is horrible, but the f-bomb — friend, not fuck — is absolutely petrifying, numbing, fear-inducing. 

It hangs heavily over your heads like something you’re not supposed to say, like forbidden fruit, Adam, Eve, and the serpent. Because the meaning of friends has always been a little strange for the three of you. What are friends? 

What are we - what are we - what are we?

You are not friends, you are more, something unreachable, unconventional, something only you and they can understand, you are—

“Best friends.” Eddie corrects, glancing up at you. He pins you with his eyes, even as you suddenly avert your attention down to the pack of Marlboros in your lap like it could serve as a scapegoat, your fingers drumming anxiously against the weathered box. “You know what, I get it. I do. I really do, Y/N. A pretty girl — a woman, like you, has primal urges. And when you’re in college…”

“Eddie… I’m not thirteen.”

“Where sometimes mediocre, average fucking bozos like this Brad-looking fellow come along… bless his heart for even trying, by the way...”

You groan outwardly, fingers fumbling to pinch a cig between your quivering lips. Your voice comes out muffled, sharp and blunt like the end of a knife. “His name is Matt, okay?”

Steve winces, glancing over at Eddie who responds to with a shrug. “Okay, well, Matt is just as bad.” 

“Can you guys, like, chill out? Your name is literally Steve.” You avoid their questioning glares, an orange shadow coating the lower half of your jaw. “I just got back and you’re already hounding me.”

A harsh sizzle cuts through the atmosphere as you raise your Bic lighter to your mouth.

You’re defensive. Sensitive. 

They hate it. It’s not like you.

“So, what then?” Eddie continues, unable to drop the subject. He wants to pry. He needs to. It’s you. It’s you, so he has to know every detail, even if it leaves you fuming, nostrils flaring at his persistence. “Is he… the college boyfriend? College sweetheart? How about fratboy, porno fantasy? Hot TA that gives your exams a pass every time? You’ve always been ass at math, can’t even tell a full gram from half so I wouldn’t technically be surprised.”

God. Insufferable. But you still thrum under his stare, his pupils imbedding themselves into your skin as you suck your cheeks in and inhale. 

Eddie wonders if you remember, if there’s some part of you that thinks back on your graduation night, the way he touched you in that diner, a hand spread over your thigh, your head on his shoulder as Steve rambled about how boring his version of graduation was.

Eddie wonders if you remember the way you inhaled him inside Steve’s garage, knees sinking into the shitty abandoned couch beside the washing machine as you eagerly sucked him off. You were on cloud nine, adrenaline coursing through your veins from the thought of college-college-college, but also when will you ever get to do this again? Do this with someone as perfect and rare as Eddie?

‘Do they have boys like you in college?’

You can still picture the glimmer of his smile. ‘God, I hope not. What a bad influence they would be.’

‘I think I turned out pretty okay so far.’

His rings stuck in your hair, his head thrown back against the furniture, your mouth and the lewd, filthy squelch of his cock burying itself in your throat while you waited for Steve to come back after he had forgotten his wallet at the diner.

‘This doesn’t change anything’, you had told him. ‘We’re always gonna be best friends.’

‘I know, sweetheart. Just needed something to take the edge off, didn’t you? Bet you’ve been working so hard on getting that scholarship, smart girl.’

He fingered you under the graduation gown afterwards.

“Y/N.”

Fuck. “I didn’t — it was nothing. He was nothing. Trust me. Just… I mean, a quick fuck, s’all, I didn’t even…” You chuckle nervously, girlish and unsure and very vulnerable. “… okay, he was fun, but like, I didn’t even cum so… so it doesn’t count. He doesn’t count.”

“You fucked Brad?”

“Matt.” You cringe. 

Steve’s voice nearly booms. “You fucked Matt?” 

“It’s college!” You cough out, choking on the contents of your cigarette. “People fuck other people all the time.”

“Weren’t you a virgin?” 

You were a virgin. Technically. But you were also a virgin when Eddie spread you open on that couch, moaning as he told you how proud he was of you for working so hard. 

You were also a virgin when Steve made out with you in the back of a movie theater, where he’d left a gnarly hickey on your left boob for everyone to see — including Eddie, who didn’t even bat an eyelash because he knew, he fucking knew that Steve boyishly wanted you in the same way he did the summer after you graduated, and he supposes that’s why there’s always been an unspoken understanding between the three of you.

‘If you make a sound, we’re gone. Kicked out. Won’t get to finish this awful movie,’ Steve said. ‘You want that?’

Breathless. Eager. Drowsily drunk on your affection.

His lips against your neck, your pulse point, a nibble to your jaw, a hungry tug on your earring. Fucking hell. How soft he was, how gentle, how he touched you with such a special regard and how some sick, jealous part of you thought — were you like this with Nancy? Was it ever like this was Nancy? Part of you wanted to moan. Croak out his name. Make a sound, any sound, so you could get kicked out and have him all to yourself.

You were a virgin when Eddie let you practice a handjob on him in the living room of his uncle’s trailer. You were a virgin when Steve ate you out in his car after finding out you were leaving for Chicago. 

You were a virgin. 

“I was, but I’m… do you even count that? He didn’t even… he could barely stick it in me at first, Steve, Eds.” 

The air feels angry. Tense. It’s suffocating, how they share that look, how they casually train their gazes back on you like you’ve killed someone. “What was he like?”

“Come again?” 

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull as Eddie steals the cig from your lips, taking a drag before he repeats himself — slower, syllables laced with a darker want. 

“I said, what was he like? In bed? You said he could barely stick it in you, so I doubt he was any fucking good.”

“Did he kiss you?” Steve follows on, nodding at Eddie to pass him the Marlboro. It’s so fucking intimate. His lips on the patch where Eddie’s had been, to which, in turn, where yours was. There’s smoke everywhere, even as he speaks, it somehow hits you coldly right on the mouth. “Was he a good kisser?”

Only then do you realize how physically close you are to both of them. You’re stuck, sandwiched between their thighs, their knees knocking against yours as you try to compose yourself. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t awful but it wasn’t good, either. Too much tongue. Too much — not enough… not enough teeth, I guess. You know how I…” 

Oh, they know, alright.

You don’t even flinch as Steve leans over and passes the cig back to Eddie. It’s a dance, a fucking taunt as you clench your jaw and curl into yourself under their presence. The longer-haired brunette tosses the dirty polaroid aside, speaking accusingly through a lazy drag. 

“Thought you wanted to save it for someone special, sweetheart.”

“I did.”

“No judgement there. Lay it on us, what changed then?”

You shrug, blinking rapidly. “Just wanted to get it over with.” They don’t believe you. It’s clear as day on their faces, the crease between their eyes, the side-twitch of Eddie’s lips and Steve’s nerved running of hands through his hair. “If you wanna call bullshit…”

“Bullshit.” These fuckers. Steve eggs you further, “A real reason, come on, Y/N.”

“Look, you’re gonna make fun of me.”

“Which we always do. Just spill it.”

You can’t hide anything from them. Not them. Not Steve, who’s practically had his handsome face between your legs for hours and not Eddie who’s basically bent you over the hood of his van so he could spread you open with his fingers. 

Not your best friends, who you’ve wanted in an insatiable way all your life, even when you had went away, it was always them — just the thought of them — that made you dizzy in all the right headspaces, the callousness of their fingers, their constant gonna-take-care-of-you aura and that implicit agreement between you and the two of them that I’m yours, m’your girl, always going to be.

“I just always thought I’d… lose it to one of you guys, and — I mean, you guys weren’t there and so I just figured I’d be more… fuck, I dunno, desirable? Yeah, just… desirable if I lost it before I came back since you already have so m-much, like, experience and...” You mumble rapidly, losing your tongue amongst your word-vomit of an explanation as you clamber onto your knees and try to stand up. Hot, embarrassed tears blur the cones of your vision. “It’s stupid, really! Like, it doesn’t even matter to me anymore because i-it was such a disappointing experience. Let’s just drop this, okay?”

This has to be a dream. A prank. A delusion. Maybe you’re still in Chicago, blacked-out after a party. Drank too much? Took the wrong weed? Shit, maybe Eddie is right — you don’t know half a gram from a full one.

And before you can shakily rise to two feet, your elbow is tugged back forcefully. Pain shoots up your arm, and you nearly yelp when your ass collides onto your springy twin mattress. 

“Uh-uh, you are not getting yourself out of this so easily. If it was oh-so disappointing, tell us what he did wrong and we’ll… we’ll… we can be your fix-it. Think of us as a rebound for, like, the guy you totally should not have fucked. Again, no judgement. Just saying a girl like you should have high standards.”

You should not be turned on right now.

Eddie looks sincere and so pleadingly desperate for an answer that you feel the yearning in his stare. It’s graduation night all over again. The stir of your belly, the squeeze he gives your thigh as he sits beside you, your glance of disbelief at Steve and his return of that hooded-gaze that turns you completely boneless as he joins the two of you on the bed.

“And you meet that standard?” You scoff, a snort following.

His brows rise up his forehead. You’re testing him. “I can meet any standard, sweetheart.” 

“And you swear you guys can do better than Matt?”

“You already know we can do better than Matt.” Steve laughs, almost as if you had just said something completely stupid. 

Eddie’s fingers trail up your knee, a ghost of a touch. He’s barely even pressing into your skin, but you feel him — his warmth, just inches away, gliding over the little goosebumps on your body, caressing the shaky ball of your knee. 

“You know, we talked ‘bout you. Had our own bonding moment, me and Harrington. Jus’ talked about how we’d take you out once you got back, treat you like a real princess after being so studious, talked about how… hm...” He chuckles, pausing to glance up at you while you lose yourself in his beady smile. This fucker. This absolute fucker. “Talked about how generous you are when it comes to friends. Thinkin’ we didn’t know you were practically playing pornstar with the both of us. Doin’ shit behind our backs like you’re a genius.”

Both of us. 

Both. You want them both, and suddenly, you don’t feel bad for being unbelievably horny, a fucking mess. 

“Listen…”

“Nu-uh. It was smart. You gotta make do with what you have. I’ll give you that.”

Steve whispers, thumbing at the corners of your lip. “Hey. No need to be embarrassed. S’alright that big brain of yours can’t think right now. You just wanna feel good. That whole thing with Matt must’ve been so disappointing.”

Eddie puts out his cigarette on the polaroid, smirking when he cups a large hand around your chin, thumb and pointer finger pressing into your hollow cheeks before he’s tenderly pulling your head to look at him. 

There is too much heat. It’s stuffy, and warm, and you can’t really breathe. There’s grimy sweat in the crooks your elbows, the duvet is getting stuck to your skin and you can’t really sit still in the itchy fabric of your sweats because it’s fucking boiling. It’s boiling and you can’t think and you don’t know what the hell is happening, and you want air — not this swirling humidity that wafts under your knees, between your thighs…

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Yeah?” His hand dips down your jaw, fingers wrapping around the small girth of your throat. A gentle squeeze. Experimental. Your breath hitches, a stuttering exhale as he tries again, harder, then he’s withdrawing and soothing the roughened area. “Care to share with the class? Unless, it’s inappropriate… then, you might just wanna,” He chuckles, tilting your head back. “… whisper it.”

If this is a black-out, you hope you wake up with a gnarly hangover. 

“If that offer still stands, if you guys wanna be my… my rebound or— or fix-it, or whatever the fuck...” This is messy. This is wrong. This is… this isn’t what friends do… but at this point, can you even call yourselves friends? “I’m down to do it.”

“You sure? I mean, you were just a virgin and…”

You snap. “Well, that never stopped either of you before, did it?”

He lunges at you.

Your mouth finds Eddie in the tangle of limbs and bodies. You run your fingers through his unruly hair, feeling yourself relax into the sudden notion as he tilts his chin to slot his lips over yours. It’s brazen, an open letter of lust from you to him saying I want this. I want you to kiss me back. I want this so bad, you don’t even know. 

It’s a burning ember of feverish desire as he parts himself open and open, tongues slowly rolling against each other until a moan slips out of you. “You like this? Don’t think it’s weird or anything?”

“M’fine.”

“Tell me to stop — fuck — and I’ll stop.”

“No.”

You can feel Steve pressing against your back, the pads of his fingers digging themselves into your flesh, marking the spots where Eddie’s lips can’t reach as the metalhead dips into your collarbone and sucks. Hard. He leaves you purple and aching, your neck craned as the lighter-haired brunette dips your head back and gazes down at you.

“Christ, she likes that.”

You sigh in bliss, slowly unraveling at the seams. 

And oh, your whole body fucking stutters when Eddie dips his hand between your legs, causing you to lurch for Steve’s mouth in order to stifle the whiny gasp of surprise knocked out of you. His palm envelops your jaw. He’s warm. Wet. Lids moony and lips silky with an indiscernible impatience you can’t recognize. 

More. Give me more of you. 

You jolt as Eddie’s hands carefully push the fabric of your shirt up, his nose nudging against the valley of your breasts before he’s cupping you in a lazy grasp. He mouths at your nipples and he savors it. He thanks you. He thanks you with a twist to one of the hardened buds, soothing the area with his tongue before his teeth climb up the front of your neck and he makes you whimper. 

“Fuck, I love how whiny you get.” He hums. “Sensitive little thing, aren’t you? S’just my favorite part about you, Y/N. I’m sure Harrington agrees, seeing as… I’m not the only guy you do this kind of shit with.”

A bite. A bruise. An apologetic kiss even though he’s far from sorry. He’s calling you a slut without even saying it.

And while Eddie traverses his way up to your mouth, Steve dips down to nurse a path all over your back. Your shirt gets lost along the carpet somewhere, your shoulders bare and waiting as he takes your flesh between smiling lips and leaves a glistening trail of wet, open-mouthed pecks on your flexing muscles.

Then Eddie… oh, Eddie, the dirty-minded fucker.

Eddie gives you another hungry kiss, only this time it’s like you haven’t kissed in years. He kisses you like he doesn’t already have you yearning and yearning for more. He bites your bottom lip, drawing a raspy gasp from the back of your throat. His nose smashes against your cheek as he moans into you, the taste of cigarettes lingering on your tongue. 

“You’re so pretty. You’re so pretty, baby…” Steve ruts against your tailbone, collecting your hair into a careful fist and tugging until you’re pulled away from your deepening kiss. “You must’ve been so empty back there, aching. I can’t imagine how awful you must’ve felt, Y/N. Were any of those guys even any good to you?”

“No. Not even close — not like you.”

“Mm, shame.”

You don’t take your stare off of Steve at all, scared that if you looked away, scared that even one second would take this away from you. He kisses the sides of your socked feet, grazing his lips over your ankles and clothed calves until you shudder at the close proximity to your core.

Anticipation is coursing through your veins. Your chest is heaving, eyes wide like a baby owl. There’s an unmistakable throb that you recognize between your thighs. Burning you from the inside. Burning you at the stake. Burning you until you’re nothing but ash and a brandished vessel of blooming hickies. 

Fucking fuck.

“You hear that? Harrington’s right, bet Matt didn’t even eat you out if he couldn’t even get his cock in.” Eddie grits out unfiltered while you part your legs for Steve, inviting him. You exhale sharply — nuzzling your face into the crook of the metalhead’s neck as he wraps you in his arms. He can feel the soft, warm puffs of breath against his jaw as Steve finally tugs your sweats down. “Your pussy’s tight, Y/N.” A kiss to your belly. A suckle to where your pelvis meets your hip. A brush of tongue against your clothed clit until you jolt upright. “But not that tight.”

You melt. You fucking burst. You don’t fucking know anymore, but either way, it’s a new area of bliss. Eddie can quite literally feel you go rigid in his grasp, sliding deeper and deeper against him until he has no choice but to tuck you under the nook of his elbow and hold you close. 

You’re burning, hand clenching around Eddie’s bicep as Steve drags the squishy tip of his nose between your folds through the cotton fabric. 

“Pretty cunts like yours deserve to be treasured.” 

“Please, Steve…” His brown eyes flicker up to you attentively, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your mound as your hips impatiently stir against the bed. “Fuck — just… just take me right now. Please. Eddie, tell him, please.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Eddie purrs, palming at your tits teasingly. He blows cool air into your face, brushing away your bangs as his lips hug the shell of your ear. “Thought all your begging would be so much better given what Harrington’s told me. Unless he’s a liar? You wouldn’t call him a liar, would you? Beg Steve to give it to you. Beg him the way you would if it was me down there.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

They are filthy in the fucking head. They have already stripped you of your pride. You may as well just follow. You may as well turn yourself in, play along with them and this fantasy that may or may not be real. Oh, but it has to be real. It has to, when you can feel Steve’s fingers dip past the decorative bow of your panties, shimmying and shimmying until you’re bare and open for him.

You squeeze around nothingness. 

“You wanna stop?” Steve runs his palm up your stomach, fingers splayed so unbelievably wide and long across your skin. It makes you lightheaded, a fixation on his smooth digits and reddened knuckles in contrast to his rose-pink complexion. “We can stop right here, whatever you want, whatever feels comfortable, baby.”

He’s being nice. It should make you feel warm inside, giddy even, that given the circumstances, he still regards you in a way that makes you feel nothing short of safe. Comfortable. But that sick, wronged part of you — the side you happen to share with your two best friends — wants him to drop the gentleman act. 

Take me, take me like you have all those times before.

Why hold back now?

“I don’t wanna stop.”

Eddie leans over and nips at the tip of your ear. His deep whisper leaves you tingling, almost trembling at how bad you need them in you, on you, just here. “Then beg.” 

“I…” You whimper, cheeks growing hot as you feel their eyes study you. “Steve, I just… please? Please, I don’t…” 

“You know what? Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“No! No, please fucking touch me.” You gasp shakily, biting your pride back and digging your nails into your calves before you’re spreading your legs farther to satisfy him, entice him. “Please touch me. I need it, need you s-so bad. Steve, please?”

He hums. You aren’t sure if it’s a sound of approval or one of uncertainty, but either way, your pathetic manner of begging does the trick. For now. 

And you’re thankful that you’re home alone because the moan that’s ripped right out of your throat is almost animalistic, maybe even concerning, when Steve dips his face between your thighs and finally puts his mouth on your throbbing sex. Your head lolls back into Eddie’s neck, his fingers coming to stroke the strained vein in the column throat as you arch against him and rut against an unmistakable, very-acute pressure on your tailbone.

He’s hard. 

Meanwhile, Steve is gently swiping his tongue over your folds, suckling at your clit before he’s dipping the muscle in and out of your fluttering hole. 

“That’s it, Harrington.” A deep chuckle erupts from Eddie, his breaths growing deeper with each moan that leaves his companion. “Go to town on her.”

You’re basically panting for air, pulled under as Steve drags a heavy palm down your outer thigh, slapping where it rounds into the shape of your ass. It stings harshly, a burning bloom of irritation before he does it again and it stings even more. 

But, fuck, does it feel good.

Steve’s nose presses against your bundle of nerves as he stretches his tongue into you. His expression is pulled into a concentrated scowl, knitted brows and muffled moans while he decides to stroke the pad of his finger against your entrance and gapes at what he discovers.

“You’re so fucking wet right now… Christ.” Agonizingly slow, Steve pushes a digit inside your cunt, curling it so that it hits that spongy desperate part of you that makes you croon and twitch in Eddie’s arms. You nearly gush at the sensation.

“There we go, princess. Mmm, fuck, you take good care of my girl, don’t you, Harrington?” 

Eddie is exceptionally fucked and twisted in the head. You think it’s a power play, him enjoying his one-up, best foot forward against Steve because he had you first. My girl. My girl. It’s warranted, valid — wrong in all the right ways — but he’s not lying, because Eddie took the initial bullet that was his desire for you. 

“Play nice, Munson. Sharing is caring.”

“Then stop messin’ with her like she’s a plate of mush.”

Quite frankly, you feel like a plate of mush.

It stirs him, competitively pushes the brunette to go harder and before you know it, his fingers are squelching down there. It’s wet, erotically messy, probably would’ve been gross to any other guy but it’s Steve and Eddie, your best friends who happened to be fucking perverts with a soft spot for you, so who cares? 

Eddie does not mean to claim you. Especially claiming ownership over someone who, obviously, isn’t his if there’s easily another man inside you. But Eddie knows your body, he knows no other body like yours because it didn’t just stop at graduation night. 

Maybe Harrington hasn’t caught on, but you’ve always been Eddie’s first love in all the ways that count. It’s truly unfair.

It’s even more unfair knowing that you’ll always favor Steve over him. 

But it’s okay. The bed’s big enough for three.

Your hand grips Steve roughly by the wrist, forcing his hand down the drenched seam of your cunt even more. 

“T-there… right there, just… want it hard, and — and fast… don’t need you to be gentle.”

“She’s blushing, Eddie.”

You blubber, eyebrows creasing with confusion as your voice gets caught in your throat and you rasp brokenly in immediate defense, “I don’t blush.”

Steve laughs. Loud. Shocked. Eyes-wide and mocking as he repeats your words under his breath and smirks up at Eddie. I don’t blush.

At this point, you’re just annoyed. “Oh, well, not you, honey.” You yelp in surprise as Steve scissors his thick fingers knuckle-deep, coating his skin in creamy arousal. “I was talking about your pussy.”

Instinctively, your smaller hand darts out to grab Eddie’s thigh, but instead, you’re met with something very hard, very much not his knee nor his leg — but his cock. The silky feeling of it in your hand turns you flustered. His red, heavy balls spill out from the waistband of his haphazardly-tugged boxers pooling below his taut hips. 

The barbed-wire tattoo that wraps across his thigh taunts you, the faded bat wings on his abdomen just waiting to be tasted. You salivate at the thought of… fuck, nevermind. You can’t even think straight.

It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but in the context of all this, it’s a sight that unhinges your jaw and causes you to try to squeeze your legs together — Steve feels the change in pressure around his head, how your thighs press harder against either ear, clenching and clenching till he has no choice but to lap at your cunt till you let go.

“F-Fuck, Steve… I’m… fuck, your mouth, it’s…” 

A shared moan from Eddie and yourself cuts your blubbering short as you give his long shaft an experimental tug, running your thumb over his shiny slit till he’s hissing at you.

“Jus’ like that, Y/N.” Eddie groans, a hand coming to stroke the back of your head till he’s grasping the nape of your neck and making you watch yourself stroke his cock. “Shit, sweetheart… see what you — you do to me? God, fuckin’… you fucking slut. Christ… fuck, your hand just feels so… oh, baby.”

His chin tilts back, eyes rolling into his skull as you crudely lick the palm of your hand and reach for his balls, coating him in a glistening film that has you drooling beneath the surface. “Let me make you feel good, please?”

“Yeah? That what you want?” He grits out, sighing as you drag your tongue along the ink on his pelvis.

“Please?”

“Since you begged so nicely,” Eddie hums, leaning back on his elbows as your tiny fist instantly reaches for his heavy cock. He nods at it, dropping his look from your clouded eyes to where his cock rests against his lower stomach. “It’s all yours. Go crazy. You know how I fucking like it.”

Messy. Loud. Disgusting.

Fingers covered in saliva as you pump him in your grasp, massaging the sensitive ridge under his tip with each upward stroke. A squeeze to his shaft everytime Steve pumps his fingers out of you and rubs your clit just the way you need him to. Eddie’s hands wander over your hips, gripping you flush against him until you’re leaning over to take his cock into your mouth.

Stuffed full of Steve’s fingers and stuffed full of Eddie’s dick. What a predicament.

“Shittt…” Eddie hisses as you take him, lips suctioning around the aching head of his dick before you’re dragging your tongue down the velvety, wet base of him. He shudders visibly once again. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. You’re g-goddamn divine.”

You try to suck him in deeper when Steve adds another finger, his tongue lapping at your needy clit as Eddie instinctively pushes on the back of your head and shoves you further down his cock. He holds you there, mewling at the way saliva and cum dribble down his ruddy shaft, pooling around his balls. 

You gag disgustingly loud, retaliating with a heavy swat to his arm before you realize your own orgasm is approaching hard and fast once he finally lets off and gives you air.

“Fuck. Fuck. Steve, b-babe… I’m — oh, shit… m’gonna cum if you keep…”

“If I keep doing this?”

You sob into Eddie’s neck as Steve scissors his fingers in and out of you, the naughty squelch of your cunt overpowering the white noise of your childhood bedroom. It’s lewd, how your knuckles glisten with Eddie’s thick pre-cum, Steve’s fingers serving as a direct mirror to that when you find release and gush around him.

“Fuck, Y/N! That’s hot. That’s really fucking hot. Shit, I just made you squirt.” He exhales shakily, a shy laugh falling at the end of his ramblings. “Always wanted to do that. S’just so sexy when you do it — fuck — I wanna watch you do it again.”

Steve’s cock throbs intensely beneath you as you christen his mouth with your arousal, his jaw wet and chin shiny as he languidly moves his mouth side to side against your clit.

“O-Oh, god… s’too… m’too sensitive, I… Steve…”

Like a starving man, his strong hands keep you pinned down when he wraps them around your hips, feeling for your ass and spreading you wide while you soak his face. 

“Whose cock do you want inside you first, sweetheart?” Eddie rasps, his free hand resting over yours as he drags it up your ribs, the swell of your breasts, brushing over your hardened nipples before he brings it back down to your stomach. Stroking and stroking, teasing you as your other best friend peppers the insides of your thighs with gentle kisses. “Thinking about how tight you probably are right now, even if Steve fucked you open with his fingers, I bet that little cunt of yours is still just as tight as that night in the garage, yeah? Yeah, it is.” He chuckles, drawing hearts on your hip bone. “Are you gonna let me fuck it? In front of Harrington? Let him watch me stick my cock inside it for the first time? Let him watch the way your eyes just… droop all sleepy and fucked-out when I cum in you?”

Steve laughs, smiling to himself as he wipes the slick from his mouth, collecting it with the pad of his fingers before he’s wiggling the digits in front of Eddie’s mouth.

“Taste her,” He says without shame, eyes moony and half-lidded as Eddie slowly wraps his lips around them. Eyes locked on Steve’s, he fucking moans at the flavor of you. “Sweet, isn’t she?”

He releases him with a pop, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

“Oh, she’s the sweetest.” He drawls, tongue darting out to lick the space between Steve’s fingers. “You wanna watch me fuck her now, Harrington? Promise you can stick it in her pussy later.” Eddie’s hand cups your jaw, lolling your head back against his shoulder so he can smirk down at you. His doe-eyes swirl with some sick form of tenderness, and the crude denotation of his next words almost fly right over your head when his gaze flickers back up to Steve. “As long as I get her ass.”

A gasp rips out of you when Eddie pulls you up by your underarms, your tender cheek falling against the mattress while Steve lingers at the foot of the bed, arm propped up against the post — where he stands now fully nude. 

Your eyes shamelessly rake over his length, admiring the groomed bush of hair around his base, his athletic frame, the girth of his arms. He pumps his cock in front of you, your attention fully directed to him as Eddie undresses himself behind you.

“Staring is rude, y’know.” Steve quips, breathless as he runs his thumb over his meaty tip with a cocky grin. He nods down at his prick, the shaft darker than the rest of him. “You think you can take it, babe?”

“I… I think so. It’s — you’re just so…”

“Big?”

“Perfect.” You gulp out, palm coming up from the mattress to reach for him. “You’re just perfect, Stevie.”

And you swear that Steve blushes. His cheeks tinge pink, freckles prominent on the bridge of his nose as a faint smile lingers across his pillowy lips. But before you can even let your nails excitedly skim across his abdomen, Eddie yanks you back by your hips, ass arched up into the air as he pries your legs apart with his knee.

The action takes you by surprise, your neck twisting to look helplessly over your shoulder up at Eddie. “What are you—“

He leans over you, caging your body with his. You gag when he shoves his fingers past your lips, clutching at his wrist while Steve’s darkened eyes meet his. “Spit.”

Fuck. Okay.

Maybe you really should’ve been patient and lost your virginity to one of them when you got back.

Eddie pulls away; strings of saliva connect to his palm, to which he uses as makeshift lube for his ruddy cock. You study the way he languidly spreads the thick glob up and down his dick, the filthy wet squelch of it causing heat to pool into your belly. 

You jolt when you feel his fingers skim over your entrance. “E-Eds…”

The aftershocks of your previous orgasm still linger, evident due to the tremble of your thighs and the deep furrow in your brow as you take a moment to brace yourself.

“Sensitive, sweetheart?” Eddie’s curious voice crackles, the tip of his finger dragging along the backsides of your thighs, tracing the curve of your ass. “S’okay, Y/N. I’ll go slow. At first.” He quips, sincerity and amusement dripping from his tone all at once. His mouth dips down, kissing the planes of your shoulders, your spine, the dip of your tailbone. “Don’t get in your head about it. I’m gonna take care of you.” Eddie whispers, taking his cock into his fist and running the tip along your cunt. You choke on a moan, feeling him slowly split you open. “I a-always take care of you, don’t I? Fuck. Fuck. Shit, you’re — Y/N, baby, you’re already… already squeezin’ me, fuck. S’okay. Fuck. It’s okay. K-Keep clenching my dick like that and this’ll be over so… fast.”

“Eddie!”

You make a move to look at him, but Steve’s hand finds your jaw, pulling your gaze back. “Eyes on me. Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s…” You clutch at the sheets, syllables lost on your tongue as you mewl scandalously. “I can feel his cock s-stretching me out. M’just… just so wet for him.” You sob as Eddie bottoms out, his balls grazing against your clit. His lips meet the crook of your shoulder as he stills inside you. “So wet for it. Please. Please. Fuck, I need… need more. Need, oh, to m-move.” The sheets wrinkle beneath you as Eddie’s hips roll back, his cock slamming into you in deep, agonizing thrusts. “Oh, yes… yes, just like that…”

“Christ, Harrington.” Eddie lets out a grunt, thrusting in and out of you. He watches the way your folds grip around him, asshole puckering as he thumbs at it. “She’s… Jesus Christ, she feels amazing. You hear that? Shit, that’s just her pussy. Makin’ all those wet sounds like a goddamn – fuck – like she’s a little cocksleeve. Fuck yes, but you’re the real thing, a-aren’t you, sweetheart? God, I could jus’ live in your pretty cunt.” He rambles, a harsh spank landing on either of your ass cheeks. 

“Fuck, Eddie!”

“I love this pretty pussy. Fuck. I fucking love it — so good. M-Mindblowingly good. Jus’ got me m-melting inside you. Fuck, Y/N. How am I ever supposed to go without this cunt? S’fucking dream, that’s it. You’re a fucking dream.”

Steve’s head falls against the intricate bedpost, face scrunched up into pleasure and agony just watching Eddie spear his cock into you. You fall further into the mattress, sweat beading off of your brow as you take in the sight of Steve’s cock dripping with pre-cum. His balls hang heavily between his thick thighs, his abs rippling under the orange glow of your lampshade.

Each stroke leaves Eddie’s creamy shaft glistening and wet, your arousal sticking to his skin and the bush of hair at the base of him as he fucks you deeply. A fist tangled in your hair, the other glued to your shoulder, his mouth pulled into a lewd ‘O’ that mirrors Steve’s handsome expression of bliss.

You whimper, eyes welling up with tears, “I’m gonna… oh, fuck, baby… m’gonna c-cum.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum on this cock?” Eddie snarls, hips quickly snapping into you. “Shit, shit, shit. Fuck, I can feel you tensing up for me. Yes, cum on it, sweetheart. S’okay, you can cum for us. Do it, Y/N.”

“So good. So — I’m cumming!”

Your whole body goes boneless against the longer-haired brunette, his arm generously scooping you up from under so that he can pull you flush against his chest. Your tits heave with every tremble of your thighs. Your cunt convulses around Eddie’s shaft, milking him as he keeps your hips firmly planted in place against his skin.

“Oh, honey. Yeah, that’s it.” Steve coos with a sweet chuckle, reaching over to cradle your face in his hands. “Came a little hard, huh? You did so well. Look at you, still so fucking hot.” He chuckles, brushing the hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. “Atta girl. Cumming on her best friend’s cock.” His thumbs prod at your bottom lip. “Who woulda thought?”

“Christ, Steve. She’s even — even tighter.” 

“Yeah? Think it’ll fit?” Steve pouts, pumping himself as Eddie pulls out of you. 

“Mmm, maybe. Maybe not. Can always butter you up some more, Y/N. Make sure there’s enough room for Harrington.” He snickers, “I call him big boy for a reason.”

You can only whine, too fucked-out from your orgasm to even properly respond. 

Fuck. Really, that’s the only word on your mind right now.

���Hey, you with us?” 

“Just…” You laugh, cut off by your own wince. “Fucking hell, just gimme a sec.”

Steve raises a brow at his friend, studying the way you roll back onto the bed, back arched against the sheets as you stretch your arms over your head and look dreamily up at him. “That good, huh?” You nod, biting your lip as he crawls onto the bed, “You think I can do better?”

A boost of confidence surges through you, the words leaving your lips airily and teasingly. 

“Dunno. How about you show me, King Steve?”

“You’re gonna absolutely kill me, you know that?” The freckled brunette whispers, mouthing up your thighs before he’s rolling you on top of him, tucking your hair behind your ears as Eddie comes to kneel behind you, kissing the nape of your neck. “Calling me King Steve like it doesn’t turn you on when you say it,” He chuckles, rubbing up your thighs. “You rode Brad’s cock?”

“No. And his name… is Matt,” You grin, splaying your palms over his chest. “Play nice, tiger.”

“This is nice.” You guide him into your entrance, moaning as you sink down past his tip, the head of him catching on the swell of your clit. Steve’s head falls back against the bed, plump lips parting with a sigh as you take him to the hilt. “God, but this cunt is even nicer — shit, Munson, you weren’t lying.”

“Fuck, Steve. It’s… fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh, my god.” His thick cock spreads your folds open, the pink tint of his cock turning slick with your cum as you shakily pull yourself up and down his length. “Feels so good. Oh, your — please…”

Eddie’s arm wraps around your hips, his finger coming to circle your clit while his free hand spreads your ass apart, his dick nudging against your tight hole. “Do you trust me?”

Your jaw lolls back against Eddie’s shoulder, eyes fluttering in pleasure as Steve meets your thrusts. “Y-Yes, please. Just — fuck, need both of you. Need it inside m-me. Put it in, Eds. Please, put it in.” You beg tearily, resting your hand against his taut stomach.

“I’ll go slow.” He whispers, kissing your cheek before taking a hold of your neck. “So slow, you won’t even know I’m here. Jus’ focus on the way Harrington breeds that cunt, yeah? Guy fucking loves that shit. You tell me to stop — you tell either of us to stop and we will, understand?”

“I understand.”

“Good girl. You have lube for me?”

Your jaw falls open as Eddie slips a finger into your ass, the ring of muscle sucking the digit deeper and deeper inside as you fuck yourself on Steve. 

“In my — my luggage.”

“Tsk tsk, naughty.”

You lose yourself in the tangle of limbs and shifting of blankets, your knees knocking against the mattress as Eddie finds his way back to the pair of you.

“Can’t believe you — you’re riding me right now. Holy shit, you look so… so beautiful.” Steve gasps out between wet strokes, worshipping your body with an open mouth, “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting this? Wanting to be inside you? Oh, and I get this pussy all to myself? 

“I’ve always — fuck — always wanted to know how big you are. How it feels to be… to be filled up with my two favorite people in the world — oh, harder.” You growl, feeling a cool liquid squirt down your skin. The lube is warm, slippery as Eddie drenches everything in it, the sloppy squelch of his fingers working into your ass are enough to make your face heat up and hide in Steve’s shoulder. “Harder.”

“You really want this?” Eddie rasps, scissoring them in and out. “You think your virgin ass can take me? I think you need more time, baby. Gotta ease you into it.”

You reach around you to grasp his cock in your hand, panting against him while Steve continues to fuck the slick channel of your cunt. It’s devastating, how he hits every part of you, the crude squelch of it all, how Eddie grips and grips at your ass till you’re basically laying over Steve’s chest.

“I want it.”

“Breathe, then.”

It feels like hours before Eddie really does anything, just the cruel fingering of your ass accompanied by the pounding of Steve’s cock into you. Then eventually, there’s the sliminess of the lube, the glistening of two well-endowed ruddy cocks, happy trails and velvet skin slowly being swallowed by your cunt and ass.

The first few moments of Eddie’s tantalizing press of his cock against your puckering hole is enough to have you jolting forward in Steve’s arms, a comforting shush lulling you to a calm as the boys kiss down your body — worshipping you, soothing you, enticing you. 

“Oh, my god!”

It’s… it’s too fucking much. The titillating burn of it. The building pressure. You feel like you’re being pulled under and under, endlessly being filled up by him until he’s drawing his hips back and pushing into you all over again.

“Relax, Y/N. You gotta relax, or I can’t — fuck, I won’t be able to take care of you.” Eddie kisses along the slope of your shoulder, his inked thighs entangling with Steve’s bare ones as he leans over your backside. “Okay?”

You nod and exhale sharply, letting yourself become mush between Steve and Eddie’s bodies as he drives into you from behind, using your ass the same way he had used your sopping cunt. Their cocks drive into you, bone mashing against bone, skin slapping against skin, warmth oozing out of you until you feel like you’re on fire. 

“Does it feel good, honey?” Steve grunts from beneath you. The look on his face nearly makes you cum — hair tousled, eyes half shut as he groans deeply. His aching arms ripple, holding you against his chest as Eddie sloppily ruts into you from behind. “You want us to go faster? Make you squirt over both of our cocks? Fuck, taking it in the ass makes you so tight.”

You lose yourself in Eddie’s kisses, the way he drags his lips across your jaw and down your bruised neck, the way Steve sits up to toy with the peak of your breasts, his tongue swiping over the sensitive nubs. 

Numb. Boneless. You can’t think.

“Think she’s gonna cum, Harrington. Just look at her.”

Steve cooes, flicking his finger over your swollen clit. 

“You gonna cum, princess?” You gasp loudly as Eddie draws his hand across your ass, spanking you brutally until your face is buried in Steve’s collarbones. “Fuck, Eddie’s right… this cunt is — fuck — such a dream. Shit, you’re close. Think I’m gonna cum, t-too. M’gonna fill y-you up, Y/N. Fuck...”

“Yeah? Gonna breed my pussy?”

“Oh, that nasty mouth.”

“I want you to cum inside, Steve.”

“Fuck!” His warm seed fills you up quickly, shooting right against your walls as his hips snap into you over and over again. Relentless. Unforgiving. Your cunt fluttering and leaking with his own spill as Steve just fucking stares and watches you become one with him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, princess. It’s — oh, you’re… m-milking me. Oh, shit. Shit!”

They’re both balls deep inside you and yet all you can think about is how you’re one-hundred percent never walking again after all of this is over. 

Your own brain melts before you can even get a word out, turning you into a broken record of strangled moans and incoherent begging. 

Princess, you like it when Eddie fucks your ass, don’t you?

Just wait till you give Harrington a turn. 

You’re gorgeous like this, letting us stretch your little holes out just ‘cause we’re best friends — god — you dirty, wet girl. I’m never getting enough.

So pretty. So fucking p-pretty.

You cum instantly, your orgasm sneaking up on you from behind and swallowing you whole. Your release has you convulsing shamelessly in the boys’ arms, your mouth claimed by each of theirs as you switch between Steve and Eddie, then Steve again, and Eddie once more until your body refuses to recognize whose skin is whose and who tastes like what. 

“Christ,” Eddie grits out. “Christ, your cunt is — you’re strangling my cock, baby. Baby. Oh, fuck, baby.”

Everything comes in a rush. Words lose their meaning, their formation and elegance (if you could even call dirty talk elegant) as Eddie’s ramblings get strung together and Steve’s hands roughly find solace on your thighs. The warm bloom in your ass almost makes you cum again, and you moan wantonly as Eddie jerks and vibrates against you. 

You wince when they pull out at nearly the same time — almost as if they had coordinated it — and you wince when you feel their spend trickle down your thighs. 

Your cunt clenches around nothingness as you sputter with their cum, your asshole puckering against Eddie’s face while he watches you gape between his hands. You whine when his finger prods at you, a hiss leaving your lips when he eats the cum from both of your holes.

Then, he slurps. Loud.

Definitely going to hell.

“Fuck.” You let out a breathy chuckle, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes to stop seeing the fucking stars that keep pulsing in your vision. 

Unable to support yourself, you lazily collapse between the lanky bodies of Steve and Eddie, long limbs tangling with yours.

Steve kisses your temple, nuzzling his face under your chin. “Better than Brad?”

Silly boy.

You laugh again, harder this time, almost forgetting how sore your lower muscles are when Steve presses the curve of your nose against your neck and Eddie casually slings an arm over your stomach like he hadn’t just fucked your ass. “Better than Brad.”

“Thought his name was Matt.” Eddie huffs, tracing the blossoming hickey on your hip.

You glance at either of them, bringing your hands up to stroke their flushed cheeks before you’re giving them a gentle peck on the buttons of their noses. “I could give less of a fuck about Matt.”

“Good.”

“Can we please go get dinner now? You know, to celebrate my return and everything.”

Steve and Eddie collectively groan, burying themselves closer against you with sleepy eyes and sweaty skin.

“Just a little longer.”

“Eddie…”

“Meh.”

“Steve…”

“Nope.”

Theirs. Theirs. Theirs.

And it’s then — between your best friends’ naked and warm bodies, freckled skin and D&D-themed tattoos, soft long hair and thick romantic curls, moles and scars, the sun on your left and the moon on your right, the lingering kiss to your shoulder and the swirling fingers on your thigh — that you realize that maybe, they missed you more than you missed them. 

And that maybe, you’re okay with this strange, insatiable dynamic of friendship. If you can even call it that.

After all, what are best friends for?

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series, angst, yearning, reminiscent

word count: 3k

cherry here!...you guys, this is it! while i am sad to see it end, i am also so happy for those who tagged along and read this little mini series; i love you all. and so i ask: can i break your heart one last time?

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six

Chapter 6

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

“I can explain!” you gasp, eyes frantically glazing over to where Charles messily packs his suitcase. “Please, just let me—”

“Sure.”

You come to a sudden halt, blink, and a single tear falls. The Monegasque smiles gently, though a red tint paints his cheeks from trying to not explode due to his fury.

Nothing but a squeak escapes, struggling to find the right words. You felt pathetic; like the worst person to ever walk earth because you were the worst person to ever walk earth. He almost wants to laugh and you can tell by how his lips tug upward in the slightest, and that itself makes you want to hurl over sobbing. This was all a joke to him, of course it was.

The brunette takes long strides over to where you stand in the kitchen, weakly leaning against a wooden chair to help your legs to not give out. You had been so surprised you were even able to run up to the house, clumsily twisting the knob and looking for him. He crunches down a bit, looking down at you with dark eyes, and grabs your face with his right hand. You wince.

“Let me make things easier for you; did you know who I was when we first met at the beach?”

“N-no. I swear to God that I did not know a single thing about you—”

“Did you ever truly enjoy my company as a friend?”

You breath hitches at him even considering the possibility that you never did, but he takes it the wrong way as his jaw clenches. “Of course I did! Charles, you’re the best thing that has—”

“And did your boss ask for you to write this article or was that all your idea?” 

The light in his eyes have long dimmed, but your answer crushes the rest of his soul as you look down at his chest and then back at his stern glare. “It was all mine.”

It’s all a blur, and you’re sure you let out a yell when he disconnects from you and wipes his hand across the table, sending a singular plate flying before it roughly hits the floor and recklessly shatters. For a while, it’s complete silence; you can faintly hear the sound of crickets, the wind that sings, his ragged breath and your silent pleas. It’s both beautiful and ugly, all at the same time.

You’re sure to be careful and step around the porcelain dish, steadily making your way over to him. It kills you when he stumbles back as you inch closer; as if you were some type of toxin he knew best to stay away from. It took him a while, but he knew that now.

“The reason I came to the Amalfi Coast was to get away from work; the pressure, the—”

“You think you’re the only one?” he spits out sourly. “You’re not fucking special, we all have our own shit! Except some of us are decent human beings and don’t seek other people for our own benefit.” The twenty-six year old shakes his head. “Grow up.”

The room is spinning, and the walls are closing in on you, but you continue. “I never had the intention of hurting you and I swear I didn’t know who you were up until Nico. He mentioned enough for me to grow curious and that’s when I searched you up.” You release a shaky breath, chest tightening like a fist. “My parents never believed I could make a living out of journalism. No one did.”

Charles stands quietly, orbs tracing your breathless state. “I kept trying to be the best, but everyone was always five steps ahead of me, and I…” Returning your attention back up, you grimace, aware of what you’re about to confess. “And I thought having a Formula One driver as a friend might help get me there.” 

When he doesn’t answer, it allows you to drown in an ocean of shame, finding it hard to face his guarded stare. As a way to pass time, you lick your salty lips, runny nose making you cringe. 

“A-and then I got to know you.” Don’t do that, he warns coldly, but you push past it. The room is arctic almost, but you try to find strength and warmth in between the memories. “And for the first time in all my years of living, I felt at peace with someone who was my own reflection. You make it so easy; you’re kind, down to earth, funny in all senses, and you never fail to make my heart feel like it's going to fly out of my chest.” The rest of your words get stuck in your throat despite stupidly trying to say them out loud. Then again, he probably wouldn’t like it.

“At first I felt bad, but my hands were still able to move against my keypad; I was sure you would understand. But the more time we spent together and grew closer to one another, I knew that would never be the case. And my fingers felt stiff, they weren’t my own, but I had to do it—my job depended on it, Charles,” you whisper.

The Monegasque had never felt so conflicted in his life, not even when debating whether to resign with Ferrari. A part of him understood completely, and the other was torn. Okay, he murmurs, awkwardly pinching the tip of his nose and then releasing. “If you need this so badly, you could’ve been honest. I won’t be untruthful and say that I wouldn’t have been a bit thrown off, but not disappointed like I am now.” The blow punches a staggered breath out of you, fumbling back, dragging the chair along.

“That’s the thing though…you should have asked for permission,” he pressed, tone harsh, distant, venomous. “And yet you didn’t. You went behind my back, just like everybody else. I actually thought…” His voice cracks and he looks away, blinking rapidly as if pushing back his own tears. “God, I’ve been so stupid thinking you actually cared enough to get to know me.”

Somehow the ability to move re-enters your body, instantly drawing you closer but still giving him enough space. “I did—I do care. I care a lot. Because I’m like that—that is who I am! You’re it for me, Charles; I fucking care.” There. The words were right there once again, and yet you continue vowing anything but them. You’ve run out of breath, ran out of words, and you could only wish there was something there valuable enough for him to accept. 

The brunette seems to understand your revelation, even if you think he doesn’t. It makes his heart palpitate as if he just ran a marathon and he hates it. He hates that it had to be this way. In some other dimension, he confesses first. He admits defeat because that’s how worthy you were to him. Because he loved you. And you loved him. But that’s somewhere else; somewhere far away—something far too unattainable. 

“You’ve used everything against me, what more do you want?”

The waves must’ve heard your conversation because the once wild sound is now slow, gentle, soft. You almost wish they picked up for your own sake; to swallow the sound of your whimpers. “I told you about Lewis’ contract in confidence, but good for you—you’re the first one who will release the news, so, you got it. I’m sure everyone will congratulate you for that.”

“Drugs aren’t a joke, but did you really have to out me like that? It was my choice, sure, but did you even think about what will follow?” He scoffs. “You’ll get clicks, millions, but I’ll get looked down on by everyone around me. The media, my team, my fans.”

It hadn’t crossed your mind, God, why hadn’t it crossed your mind? You open your mouth and then snap it back shut. Charles runs a hand across his jaw. “But fuck, I don’t care about any of that—not as much as the pin.”

“Charles—”

“That was between you and me. My father was a clever man; a believer. I’m neither of those things, but I’ve tried my absolute best. And you’ve killed the last bit of it.” You suck in a breath; you can feel your eyes getting smaller, skin puffier. “Do you know how hard it is to have faith in yourself as a driver? It’s exhausting.” A beat. “But that golden horse was enough for me to keep going and now it’s tainted.”

There’s no more sounds flying past your lip, but the acid rain hasn’t slowed down, only intensified. “That’s the last thing I ever wanted to happen, Charles…I am so sorry.” Closing the gap in between you two, you thread your brows together softly. “If I could take it all back, I would. I would have never gotten an interview out of you without your knowledge, y-y-you have to believe me,” you plead. He only nods, green eyes flickering down to your rosy lips, then shut tight. When he opens them, it hurts, because you don’t recognize them anymore.

“You took it from me…But I would’ve given it to you.”

-

The atmosphere is something astonishing; the colorful fireworks, the deafening cheers, the cameras, the podium celebration—it truly took your breath away. And  he deserved all of it. 

It’d be half-witted to think he would agree to this; he had every right to turn you down. Rightfully so, he could have. He should have, you think to yourself as you nervously click your pen. You didn’t keep in touch after that summer, so it made perfect sense for you to think that he would look rather different.

But as he makes his way over, chatting with his PR manager, he looks just the same. Yes, he’s older; a bit more tired looking than the last time you saw him, much leaner, and his smiling crinkles have expanded like a beautiful sight. But he was still Charles to you.

“Congratulations,” you quip when he reaches you with a knowing look. Stuttering, you point over at the screen that replays his terrific race. “Y-y-you were incredible. World Champion, eh?” Complete silence. Can we get a minute to ourselves? The older lady hesitantly agrees, strolling away. You click faster, heart rate picking up as you watch her go. 

The Monegasque licks his lips. “You showed up.”

Somewhere in the distance, you can hear fans screaming his name, the flashes shuttering brightly; you’re honestly impressed you were able to find a place to talk. “I said I would, no? I, um, also have this…” You extend your hand out towards him and his breath hitches, 

Nothing would ever shine as bright as gold. His trophy is utter counterfeit compared to the prancing horse that winks back at him. His green eyes blink slowly for a while, almost as if he doesn’t recognize it, but that quickly dies as he reaches for it. 

His simple touch grazes past you but it zaps you to the point where you jump up a bit, and he does too. The fireworks up in the open sky were doing a fantastic job at interpreting what you were feeling at that very moment. Charles clears his throat, orbs tracing his reward. His golden cup was great, but this?

“Thank you.” And it sounds so sincere that you almost release a cry. “I really appreciate you keeping your word. I know I didn’t keep mine.”

He hadn’t. But you understood. The wedding invitation had been sent to him and he never responded. He never showed up. You never figured out why you were so surprised, but you were. “You were busy. I get it.”

Tension lingers. “How’s work?”

Work was great; easier. You guess that's what happens when everyone finally applauds you. It took a lot of strength for you to publish the article, but you did it anyway. Do it, he mumbled that night as he walked out of your life for three years. Don’t let all of this be for nothing. 

Running your sweaty palm against your dress, you hum. “I’m chief executive now.” The Monegasque lets out an impressed whistle and for the first time since you landed in Abu Dhabi, you smile. “Eleanor retired a while ago and apparently loves me now.”

“How could she not?” You grow stiff. “How is Grayson? I’m sure the wedding was great, by the way.”

His eyes flicker down at your ring and you beam. His heart breaks just a bit when your eyes stare down in adoration. “He’s amazing—he’s right over there, actually.” Your husband is far enough away, but he could still see it all. The little boy giggles up at his father and you laugh. 

Charles smiles. “I’m happy for you. I really am.”

“Thank you. But tell me, champ; how do you feel? This shit doesn’t happen everyday, now does it?” 

“A lot of work and patience, but it all worked out at the end. Which I’m glad because I was close to blowing my brains out.” You playfully pout, red lips curling into a familiar look. 

“Still going to stick around?”

“A couple years or so…” His gaze shifts over at the rest of the grid who eye you two suspiciously. Even to them it was clear that there is history that will always remain. “I think I could do it.”

You tilt your head, hair falling over your shoulder. “I know you can, Cha.” The newly World Champion freezes and then shakes his head, avoiding your vibrant eyes. “Question,” you mumble.

“Ears,” he retorts, voice painted with humor.

“Do you ever…” You’re too embarrassed to finish your sentence, too afraid to face the possible answer. The Monegasque chuckles, a single hand over his heart and it takes you back to your last day with him in Italy where the weather was perfect.

“No regrets.”

His confirmation shouldn’t have been enough to reduce your forever heartbreak, but it manages enough. Releasing a weak exhale, you curiously peek over to where he retreats a gem. Your gem. The shiny pearl radiates, nearly making you blind, but it's new look is something that tugs at your heartstrings.

“Where did you…how did you?”

He shrugs, slipping it onto your ring finger; but on the right hand as the left now had an owner you loved back. “A friend of mine proposed to his girlfriend a while ago and I had it laying around and I just…” You blink with glossy eyes. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.” A wet laugh slips out, hugging him like a blanket. You chew on your bottom lip. “I’m so happy you kept it safe; thank you so much.” He blushes, large hands brushing his damp hair back. “You know, sometimes…sometimes I think about you.” His name is mentioned on the large screen, but he’s not concerned by any means. Green eyes are focused on you; they always have been. “It’s mainly in the shape of a nightmare, but hey…” He winces. You continue. “It’s not your fault though, I brought it upon myself. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

“You shouldn’t have.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “But don’t worry about it anymore; I forgive you.”

You can’t help but throw your arms over his shoulders. You don’t even care how sweaty he is, you don’t at all. You’ve kissed him twice in your life, but this had to be the best interaction you’ve had. You didn’t deserve it—you were well aware—but he had always been kind. Even to people like you. 

Hot tears slide against his red fireproofs and he doesn’t dare pull away. Your sweet scent was still the same, but more mature. Your body was just as he remembered, but he could feel the small belly forming; you’re someone's home. He swears he feels a kick and his heart stops. Alas, you pull away with a rosy nose and swollen eyes. You giggle, wiping your teardrops. 

“I think about you all the time, too.” He fiddles with his fingers. “But mine aren’t nightmares; they’re dreams.” A heave leaves you, pursing your lips. “They’re blurry, but they’re my favorite. In them, you didn’t step all over my heart. In them, you’re mine. And in them, I’m yours.” The pearl glistens harder. “And in them, I tell the truth that’s stuck with me from the moment you stepped foot on stage, rusty microphone in hand.” 

He must think you’re having a breakdown by the way you crazily stare at him, but you’re not. You practice the shape of his nose, his lips, his brows. You admire his freckles, his watercolor eyes. Since when did they have a pinch of gray?

Charles takes a step towards you, but gets caught by the gate that separates you both. It’s up to his hips and he curses for it even being there. But then again; it was a sign. You must realize that too when you sigh sadly, delicate hands tracing the cold metal. “I loved you then.” A beat. “And I love you now.”

A sob is all heard as your face disappears, pressed against your hands, hiding. They grow louder and everyone must assume he made the pretty journalist cry or maybe it was her pregnancy. Maybe it was both. Separating to look up at him, you smile melancholic. “Do I even have to tell you too?”

“You don’t have to,” he clarifies. “Because I know.”

The feeling was bittersweet; it was more than that, but you would survive. Everything will forever stay in the Amalfi Coast, and you will cherish it all. 

The Monegasque knocked out on the beach. The bar. Nico. The AirBnB. The love. The heartbreak.

Both ends were content. You would never truly get over that last summer, but you had others to care for now. He would never truly heal, but for now his job kept him busy. You were both at your prime. Just not together. 

Clicking your pen, you nudge your notebook with a weak smile. 

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…Can I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[hyuuukais]

-`♡´ - APARTMENT 143

pairing -> lee minho x reader

synopsis -> after a bad breakup, y/n needs to find a new place to live. although she's grateful for her best friend, up-and-coming model hwang hyunjin, for letting her stay at his, she can't keep living with him and his model roommates. so when an opening for somewhere nearby with cheap rent opens up, she jumps on it, despite knowing next to nothing about the 3 other tenants, only that one owns 3 cats. the three quickly learn of her breakup, determined to help get her back on her feet. but what happens when one of them begins to develop feelings?

warnings -> gen, y/n overthinks a lot and isn't very nice or forgiving to herself, food, y/n panicking & hyperventilating, food, blood, suggestive near end

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TWELVE -> FAILED ROMANTIC ESCAPADES (partially written, wc: 1.5k)

"Hey, hey, hey." Minho cups your face hesitantly, wiping the stream of tears flooding from your eyes. You're hyperventilating, gasping for air by the time he's arrived to help you as the pan of burnt food lies off to the side. "Here."

He takes a hand and places it on his chest, breathing in deeply and encouraging you to do the same. You try, but its shaky and and you start coughing. A hand comes down to rub your back and you don't even notice how close you are, finally starting to focus on the rise and fall of Minho's chest. Once you've started to calm, he lets his hand fall off of your back, leaving the one clasping yours to him.

"Go sit down," he orders and you try to protest. "No, I don't want to hear it. Go sit and destress with the cats while I salvage this."

"There's no salvaging that," you say, pointing to the charred, inedible... lump on the stovetop.

"So I'll make something new."

Sitting on the couch, you debate texting Soobin and calling the whole thing off, but he's already on the way and the scent of food cooking wafts over you. You feel fucking awful. First, you mess up the date, if you can call it that, before it even started, and now you've guilted Minho into helping you when he was probably in the middle of doing something. What he's making smells delicious and you feel even worse.

"How long?" Minho calls out from the kitchen. The apartment is fairly open, only an island separating that part from the living room you're in.

"Twenty minutes, give or take."

"Touch up your makeup, you cried it all off." Your face reddens. "And wear that pink shirt you have."

"The one with the ribbon?" You ask, confused why he knows your closet.

"No, not that one. The other one with the heart."

"Why?"

"Because it's nice," he says, still focused on the task at hand. "You look nice in it."

You don't know how to respond so you go to look for the shirt he mentioned. It's hanging up in your freshly organized closet, colour coordinated to help you find things easier. Taking it off the hanger, you change quickly and re-emerge to see Minho plating what looks like a professional dish.

Soobin is never going to believe you made that. Your heart drops and you start fiddling with your fingers, standing at the edge if the kitchen and staring as he finishes up. Unwelcome tears prickle at your eyes again, breath picking up slightly. Minhi catches your eye, coming over and looking down at you. His hand comes up to the back of your head, patting your hair, and somehow this helps you calm down.

"He's not going to think I made that," you admit.

"Why not? There are dirty dishes in the sink." Minho turns your face gently to look. "Who says you can't be a Michelin chef in your spare time?"

"Shut up," you push his hand away, barely containing a smile.

"There's our girl," he sighs. "Now, you know-"

A knock at the door, it opens seconds later, a tall man walking in. "Y/n? I know you said to just walk in but I feel weird so I'm still going to wait for you by the door."

"Oh my god." You look to where Soobin's voice came from, back at Minho, gripping your panic by the throat and shoving it away. "He'll see you if you go to your room and I said no one would be home."

"I can hide-"

"Behind the island!" You push him away quickly as you hear footsteps approaching. Turning around, you see Soobin hesitantly walking in. "Hey! I was just um... finishing getting everything ready! Yeah, that's what I was doing. I, uh, still need to get drinks though. What do you like? We have a bit of red wine left, sparkling water, regular water, and some pop too. Unless you don't want a drink! But hydration is important."

Your voice becomes small nearing the end of your rambling, internally cringing at yourself, but Soobin just smiles and takes off his coat. "Regular water is fine."

Nodding, you go to the side of the island Minho is on. He's crouched against the side, looking up at you as you open the fridge door. When you turn back around with the jug of water, you can see Soobin rounding the corner and panic, nearly dropping the jug as you kick Minho's leg, silently telling his to go around to the other side. He glares at you, but crawls away just as Soobin joins you, a small smile on his face. Sweat clings to your skin as you set the jug down, sending Soobin a tight smile as you reach for two glasses. They're just too high, but you're determined, which does not end well. One glass is close enough to the edge that you can grab it smoothly, but the other is shoved and falls onto the counter, glass flying.

"Oh my god!" You step back, setting the glass behind you and pushing Soobin away with your other hand. "Stand here, I'll sweep this up. I'm so sorry."

You're trying hard not to cry again at this point, so overwhelmed and overstimulated that you feel like you'll burst. The glass cleans up easy enough, but you still feel terrible.

"Y/n, you're bleeding."

"What?" You look down at the hand you just threw the glass out with and see a small cut running under your pointer and middle fingers. "Shit, okay, um, I'll be right back."

"Oh, okay," Soobin leans out of your way as you rush past him.

"Get it together," you say to yourself as you close the bathroom door, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. "Patch it up and get back out there. Calm the fuck down."

And you do just that, slapping a bandage onto the wound and stepping back out. With another deep breath, you reenter the kitchen.

"Ready to eat?" You plaster a smile on your face, taking the dishes and setting them on the coffee table. "We usually eat at the island, but I thought the couch would be nicer for tonight since the seats are comfier. Is that okay? We can eat at the island if you prefer. Or even up on the rooftop, we have a picnic table up there-"

"The couch is fine," Soobin cuts you off. "Really."

You laugh nervously, watching Minho crawl back to the other side as Soobin joins you on the couch. As you eat and make small talk, you become more comfortable, laughing freely at his jokes and even making your own. After you're done, he compliments the food and a wave of guilt runs through you, but you push it down and suggest a movie. Out of the corner of you eye, you see Minho trying to escape the kitchen, so you fully divert Soobin's attention to the TV, allowing Minho to stop being an unintentional third wheel. Not that this is a date.

This is how you end up snuggled into Soobin's chest, his arms wrapped around your waist as the credits roll. It's dark outside, the sun having set while the movie was still going. You yawn, looking up at him with a sleepy smile that he returns, ruffling your hair a bit and making you giggle.

"I had a good time tonight," he says, and you swear his eyes flickered down to your lips, but maybe you're being delusional.

"Me too, we should do this again sometime."

"I can think of something else I'd like to do again," he smirks and you blush.

"You know we can't-"

"They don't have to know." Soobin uses a finger to lift your chin, barely a breath away from his soft lips now. "We don't have to say anything. I know you like me Y/n, and I like you too."

Your heart is racing as he closes the distance between you, mouths moving together in a rhythm. He slowly moves you onto your back, the hand on your waist traveling down to your hip, toying with your waistband as he hovers over you and deepens the kiss. As his thumb dips under the waistband, it sets in what's happening and the feeling of guilt washes back over you, pushing him off you harshly with a hand to his chest.

Sitting up too quickly, your head spins. A hand is on your cheek, turning you to face the man next to you, but everything is too much and you smack it away. Soobin furrows his eyebrows and retracts his hand.

"I think I should go," he says, voice low.

You don't say anything as he gets up or when he slides his shoes and coat on. All you can do is stare at your hands, skin hot and tingly all over. When you hear the door open, your head finally shoots up to see Soobin leaving.

"I'm sorry-" You get up, but he's already out the door. You stare at the wood, wishing there wasn't something wrong with you.

notes -> i wanna hug yn. so, her family is coming into the picture here... doesn't seem like the greatest dynamic.

taglist -> @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @puppyminnnie @tfshouldidohere @kangaracha @chlodavids @whitney190 @thisisnotjacinta @borahae-reads @brooklynie @gini143 @kayleigh-28 @skz-streamer @babyphotos0325 @scallywag1299 @venusmoonxnight @naomisosoup @fertiliezedtoesw @s00buwu @realrintaro @anothershorthuman @skzstaykatsy @ilovejeongin007 @btswestan @multifandomedsimp @ihrtlix @raehawthorne @euphoric-univers @hyperpixie @evermourning @satsuri3su @jazziwritesthings @minhwa @wyzminho @fic-for-readers @dreamerwasfound @imsiriuslyreal @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lixie-phoria @aalexyuuuhm @sunflowerbebe07 @st4rhwa @lukeys-giggle @jabmastersupriseee @judeduartewannabe @gaysontheprince @stepout-09-15 @splat00z

^^^ orange means i can't tag you

[loviingpedri]

they caught us - p. gavi

prompt: gavi x gamer!fem!reader. hard launching your relationship on stream

warnings: cursing, grammar issues

credits to owners for all images.

inspo for this story ^^

-

you were a growing streamer. big in the minecraft and riot games community. you appreciated your fans from the unconditional support. ever since being an exposed barca fan, your platform definitely grew. content was trending to the point where you met the one and only, pablo gavi. his simple message of complimenting you building camp nou in minecraft ended in a few date nights, a lot of kissing, and some risky nights. your fans wanted some player in barca to notice you, but little did you know that you spent your nights with your dream barca player everyday.

exposing your relationship was not in your agenda any time soon. it was the peak of your gaming career and gavi had big plans for the national team. the internet would practically blow up from the news. both of you were not ready for that amount of personal space to be invaded.

it was that time of the day to start your daily stream. it was a good balance of work and relationship. start your stream when gavi is at practice, and end it when he’s at home to solely focus on him.

“hello, hello everyone! welcome to today's stream." waiting a few seconds as more people started joining. “today will be a minecraft stream. i’m thinking of making the barca logo.”

reading the comments blow up by the mention of the club is probably the funniest thing you’ve seen.

“change your shirt on the minecraft skin the jersey of your favorite player. i love that idea, but i don’t really have a favorite player. maybe i’ll do xavi or something.” lying isn’t the best thing to do to your supporters, but personal business is personal business.

after playing for hours and halfway done with the logo, you hear the door opening. “one second guys, i think my roommate is home.” roommate meaning your boyfriend. the plan is really thought out. your best friend occasionally popped into the streams, pretending to be your roommate, and it works. thinking you muted and turned off your camera (which happens often), gavi walks into your gaming room.

“hi gorgeous,” walking in and instantly kissing you made both of you smile. “are you streaming?”

“yeah, i am. i was building the logo. i can show you later when i’m ‘done greeting my roommate’.” making quotation marks with your fingers.

“yeah i’ll sit over here. i’ll just look while you continue playing.” you blew a kiss at him as you put your headset back on.

“alright guys, i’m back. did i miss anything?” your eyes tried to keep up with the chat. it was going faster than usual. you thought it was a raid, but nothing was happening. everyone was going crazy. finally, a donation came through with a message.

read aloud from the automated voice, “viscabarcaaa_11 donated $10 with a message. 'was that gavi you just kissed?’” fuck. gavi quickly sat up from the seat. you realized your camera and microphone was never off. your eyes panning from screen to screen in panic. speechless, you turned red instantly.

you were kissin’ and they caught you whether you like it or not.

you cleared your throat, still don’t know what to say. gavi unplugged your headphones from your pc tower to be able to hear what was going on. he urged you to get up. you had no idea what he was doing, but you just listened.

sitting down, he spoke slow and steady. “hello everyone. this was a very unexpected thing for you. not to mention, an unexpected plan from us. y/n and i have been seeing each other for a few months now. it wasn’t really planned for us to be revealed this early, but thank you for supporting my girlfriend. i am glad to get this off of our chest, because i’ve been wanting to show her off.”

playfully pushing him to the side, “okay thank you for attending this stream, see you tomorrow. love you guys.” making sure you ended the stream fully before giving off a sigh.

“looks like i can show you off now.”

“okay, that’s enough fame for you.”

————————————————————

author’s note: this story has been sitting in my drafts for months and i’m deciding to complete it on a random weekday.

[moonhoures]

3:31PM — first love!soobin 💌

The moments of how our First Love couple came to meet.

haven’t read the first love series yet? you can catch up here.

Friday, May 14th, 2021

Soobin had just finished his last class of the day, and as he exited the classroom, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Just one more week of classes, then it was another year down. The beginning of the fall semester was already looming in the back of his mind, but he tried to shrug it off. Class just let out, don’t think about next semester. That’s what he imagined Yeonjun would say if he were with him.

The boy plucked his phone out of his pocket as he walked the sidewalks of campus back to his dorm. He tapped his passcode in, opening his messages with his roommate.

soobin: are you at the dorm yet?

yeonjun: yeah, what’s up?

soobin: i was thinking pizza for dinner, want to split? 🍕

yeonjun: i’m in

yeonjun: i was thinking of going into the city tomorrow to shop for some summer clothes. wanna join? it’s just me and a friend from my songwriting class going

Soobin took a second to think it over. He always got a little nervous meeting Yeonjun’s friends. Soobin himself was naturally an introvert and had a hard time warming up to new people most times. On one hand, he loved having Yeonjun for a best friend because he felt more comfortable being sociable with him. But Yeonjun’s friends usually were very outgoing and it admittedly made Soobin a little self-conscious. On the other hand, he hadn’t done any shopping since the holiday season, and he could also use some new summer clothes. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to suck it up this once and go.

soobin: sure thing

The next day, the two boys got ready in the late morning and made their way to the nearest bus station. There they waited for you to show up. After a few minutes, Yeonjun decided to text you and check on how far you were.

“Oh, good. She said she’s just around the corner,” the older boy casually spoke as he locked his phone and slipped it into his back pocket. Beside him, his friend’s eyes widened slightly in confusion.

“She?”

His voice wandered off as he watched Yeonjun notice you walking up, a smile on his face. He watched his friend greet you before turning towards him, gesturing to the dumbfounded, dark-haired boy. Soobin suddenly felt out of place and self-conscious (just as he worried about) but for a different reason. He hadn’t realized Yeonjun’s friend was a girl.

“This is _________, from my Songwriting class,” the older boy introduced you to him. The name sounded familiar. He remembered Yeonjun mentioning it, but he never put two and two together to realize you were the friend they would be shopping with.

“It’s nice to meet you, Soobin,” your voice melodically greeted him.

“You too,” he nodded politely, thankful he hadn’t stumbled on those two words.

“We should get going before the bus leaves us.”

Yeonjun breezed through the awkwardness that he hadn’t even detected between you, leading your little group onto the bus. The ride went a lot smoother than Soobin had expected. You were really friendly, getting along with his and Yeonjun’s conversations easily. Though, he suspected that was because you had hung out with Yeonjun for some time over the semester. His personality had a way of rubbing off on people after a while, and that seemed to be the case with you as well. It was comforting to him in a way.

The midday shopping was fairly successful. Yeonjun had dragged the two of you throughout his favorite stores, and he found a few outfits to take home. Soobin ended up not focusing much on shopping for himself, instead engaging in conversations with you about college and how you chose to attend your school. At some point, Soobin found himself zoning out of your conversation, too distracted by your beauty. He liked the way your eyes had a twinkle to them when you spoke about something you enjoyed. He liked the way the corners of your mouth pulled into a small smile. He could tell you tried not to grin too wide, but he wondered why. Your smile was so pretty; there was no reason to hide it.

After dragging the both of you through several stores, Yeonjun finally conceded to eating a late lunch before heading back to campus. He spent most of the time telling stories that he and Soobin shared, and Soobin consequently correcting any details he messed up or over-exaggerated. You sat with them, eating your food and chuckling along with them as if you had been with them during the stories they told. It felt nice to be welcomed into a friendship like theirs.

You had originally been weary of meeting Yeonjun’s friend for the first time. Yeonjun was a great guy to hang out with, but there was always a fifty-fifty chance when meeting guys on campus. Most of them were boring, cocky, or just plain obnoxious to be around. But in rare instances there were guys like Soobin—friendly, personable, handsome . . . You liked guys like Soobin.

As the shopping trip came to an end, you mentally thanked your past self for agreeing to Yeonjun’s offer to tag along.

On the ride back to campus, the bus was more packed than in the morning. Seats were scarce, but the moment a seat became available, the two boys gestured for you to take it. After a few minutes, the businesswoman that sat beside you had got up and exited at her stop. You expectantly looked to your two friends, patting the seat beside you.

“One of you can take this seat,” you said, just trying to be polite since they had also been on their feet all day with you.

Soobin looked from you to Yeonjun, who stared back at him with a pointed look.

“Why are you looking at me?” the younger boy laughed, “Go ahead.”

“You’re older,” Soobin replied with a playful smile.

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, “Don’t try to be nice now. If it was just the two of us, you would’ve beat me for that seat.”

You chuckled at their childish back-and-forth, luckily not noticing Soobin’s ears growing pink.

“I would not,” he mumbled.

“Yes, you would.”

Soobin sighed, and the two boys continued to stand out of pure stubbornness. He glanced at you when he knew you wouldn’t catch him. She’s so pretty without even trying, he thought. The bus jolted to a stop at the campus station, and several students made their exits. The three of you brought up the rear, hopping off moments before the bus closed its doors and departed.

“I’ll see you Monday in class, right?” Yeonjun turned to you, his shopping bags clutched in one of his hands while his phone was in the other. Soobin’s one, small bag hung from his hand at his side. He stood kind of awkwardly, and his eyes seemed to wander away from you when yours met them. It felt like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

“Yep,” you nodded before turning to his friend, “It was really nice meeting you, Soobin.”

“Oh, yeah, it was nice meeting you, too. Get home safely,” he spoke sweetly, his smile revealing the dimple you grew to be fond of over the hours spent with him today. You hadn’t met many people with dimples as deep as his before. You liked them.

“Thanks, you too.”

And just like that, you were making your way towards the girls dormitory, getting your roommate on the phone to talk along the way. You had informed her of your day with Yeonjun, but you didn’t know beforehand about Soobin joining. So you figured she might want to know.

“Did you buy anything good? Are we gonna do a try-on haul when you get here?” she asked excitedly.

“No, I didn’t really go to shop for myself. I was mostly just a tag along,” you explained, “I actually wasn’t the only one he brought. There was a guy named Soobin, an Arts History major. He was nice.”

There was a pause over the phone, and for a moment you wondered if your connection had failed. But then your friend spoke with a hint of suspicion in her voice, “Nice? Is that all?”

“Yeah, he was nice . . . Why?” you laughed naïvely.

“I don’t know, it sounds like my little ________ has a crush.”

“Sooyoung, I just met the guy. I don’t have a crush on him,” you tried to speak with confidence, but even you weren’t one hundred percent believing of your words.

“Is he handsome?”

You sighed, kicking a pebble lightly across the sidewalk as you walked the block that lead to your dorm’s front entrance, “Yeah. He’s tall. He has broad shoulders, dark eyes, and dark hair. He reminded me a bit of an idol. He gives those vibes a bit.”

“Oh my god, you’re head over heels for this guy!” your roommate exclaimed, and you could only laugh incredulously at her accusation.

“Sooyoung, would you get a grip? I am not!”

“You are! You may not realize it now, but you definitely like this guy. I need to meet him. We’ll need to plan a hang out with the four of us,” she said as if it was a fact.

You got to your dorm, making your way through the entrance and walking upstairs while successfully changing the topic before making it to your room. The phone call ended as you opened the door. But the conversation picked up as normal once inside. The two of you blabbed on as you chilled out, deciding on watching a movie. Though, while the movie played, you couldn’t help but think about Sooyoung’s idea. Maybe there was a way you could get Yeonjun on board with a hang out for the four of you. But how could you bring it up naturally without it seeming like a ploy to see Soobin again? You needed to think this through.

“Alright, say it.”

Soobin was caught off guard, looking to his friend as the two of them walked towards their dormitory. They had just wrapped up a quick conversation about the bus running on time today, for once. But after a few moments of comfortable silence, the older of the two had made that demand, completely unprompted.

“Say what?” Soobin asked, earning an expression from Yeonjun that wordlessly said ‘don’t act stupid’.

“________. You like her, don’t you?”

If Soobin had been drinking at that very moment, he definitely would’ve spit it out. The equivalent to that at the moment was nervously stuttering on his response, “W-what? What makes you s-say that?”

“Well, the stuttering gives it away,” his friend teased, then sighed, “But you seemed so tense today. Not in a bad way, I could just tell you seemed off, like you were nervous around her.”

“I don’t like her,” Soobin simply stated, though his heart betrayed his words by beating faster at the thought of you, “We just met.”

“Okay. Maybe you don’t like her, but you think she’s really pretty, don’t you?” his friend nudged him playfully with his elbow, making him roll his eyes. His younger friend nudged him back, trying not to let his words get to him.

Of course he thought you were pretty. Anyone with eyes would agree. They would be crazy not to, or at least that’s what he thought . . . Maybe he did like you. But what was the harm in that?

“Ahhhh, I knew it,” Yeonjun grinned, claiming victory when his friend remained silent. Soobin couldn’t hide the blush creeping into his cheeks and ears. His body was terrible at hiding his feelings, he was learning.

“Even if I do, it’s not like I’ll see her around. Summer’s starting, and we won’t have similar classes next semester.”

“Must you forget that I’m the King of networking?” Yeonjun asked him as they approached the entrance to their dorms. He held the door for his roommate, continuing the conversation as they walked up the stairs to their floor, “I could easily set up another hang out with the three of us. She did say she was staying on campus for the summer.”

“But I’ll be at my parents’s house this summer,” Soobin replied. Yeonjun pinched the bridge of his nose. He was almost convinced his friend was born to think of the negatives in life.

“And it wouldn’t kill you to hop on a bus to Seoul for some shopping, or a movie, or something. I know you’re an introvert, but seriously, Soobin, you need to make a move. This could be your first real relationship!”

The taller boy scoffed, “Sure, go ahead and say that louder. I don’t think the bottom floor heard you.”

“Sorry,” his roommate bashfully apologized, but resumed his nagging as he opened the door to their room, “Look, _______ is a really cool girl. And you two seemed to hit it off really well. What could it hurt to ask her out?”

“She could reject me,” his friend deadpanned as he plopped onto his bed.

Yeonjun groaned, closing the door before resting his forehead on it in annoyance, “Fine, don’t listen to me. Do what you want.”

Soobin sat on his bed and watched his friend shrug with feigned carelessness as he sat on his own bed and proceeded to open TikTok. He started to tune out the noise from the app softly playing on the other side of the room. On his side of the room, he scrolled aimlessly through the explore page on his Instagram. Though he was mostly gazing at the images while his mind thought of you. He thought about the way you laughed at a dumb joke he told at one of the stores you went to. He didn’t remember what the joke was anymore, but he could distinctly recall the way your nose scrunched up a little when you laughed at it.

Across from him, Yeonjun’s chimed with a text message. Just like every other day, Soobin didn’t pay any attention to it; that was until Yeonjun looked up at him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What?” Soobin asked.

“________ just texted asking if we would like to join her and her roommate for lunch next weekend.”

She did?

“Oh. I mean, I’m down . . . if you are,” Soobin added the last part to ease the eagerness that bled through the first part when he spoke.

Yeonjun’s brows raised as if he was impressed, “Hm, I thought you said you were going to your parents’s house next weekend?”

“I can take a bus here,” was all Soobin planned to say, but the look on his roommate’s face had him adding an “Oh, shut up” for good measure.

“I didn’t say a word.”

But Yeonjun didn’t have to. They both knew in that moment that he was right. Soobin did like you. The question was, would he ever get the courage to do anything about it?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading! if you enjoyed this timestamp, please feel free to leave a like, reblog, and/or a message in my inbox! i would love to hear your feedback! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

💌 taglist: @boba-beom @beomkaibums @bruh-changbin @day6andetcetera @bluesoobinnie @chaconnelatte @pinklemonadeflav @goldennika @squishybin @ikeu4life

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[maknaeswrld]

love is worth the wait | l.mh

wc: 2.4k

genre: best friends to strangers(?) to lovers; idiots to lovers

cw: angst; depression/mentions of having depression; ✨miscommunication✨; roomies are based off my irls and Jun isn’t based off anyone specific; roomies are trying their best; fluff!!; please let me know if I missed anything

part one: when you loved me

You stayed in bed for much longer than you would have liked to admit. Depression had never really been something you struggled with, but it seemed to be the week for new emotions so why not sprinkle in some other things too? 

You knew your roommates were ridiculously worried about you, you’d be worried too if any of them just randomly shut down one day over a boy. But between the depression naps and sad cereals and binging romcoms, you knew step by step you’d pick yourself up again.

Part of you wished you could go back to believing you never had been and never would fall in love, but you also knew now that it was bound to happen eventually. Some people don’t fall in love, and that's okay, but no matter how much you fought it, you weren’t one of those people.

Your co-workers at work knew something was wrong. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, your sluggish movements and the dreadful bags under your eyes gave you away. 

You were heartbroken. You never thought you’d be one of those girls from high school that learned love and heartbreak in the blink of an eye at the hands of Lee Minho, yet here you were, years later, doing just that.

Jun had tried to reach out to you a few times, but as much as you cared for your friend, you didn’t want the painful reminders of Minho that he always brought with just his presence alone. 

You stopped everything Stray Kids related. You couldn’t bring yourself to listen to their music, you turned off their youtube notifications, you’d even taken down your photocards and hid away your Leebit Skzoo. Your life was missing a large part of it without your unwavering devotion to keeping up with the band. 

You didn’t want to see him and be reminded of your years of stupidity, or even worse, see him with that girl. Learning you’re in love with someone by seeing them happy with another person isn’t exactly the best way to go about figuring things out, and you knew it’d tear you apart to see him laughing because of her again. 

You assumed she was his girlfriend, there had been rumors floating around for months that he was seeing someone.

You came to the conclusion that you didn’t want to ruin anything for him just because it took you this long to realize his childhood crush on you.

All you wanted was to go home and take a nice long shower and maybe a nap. You had a three day weekend and you were planning to milk every second of sleep and relaxation and moping you could out of it, but when you walked into your house, you heard a voice you dreaded laughing in the kitchen with your roommates. 

You shouldn’t have been surprised to find Jun in your apartment, he and Lia had been best friends since diapers so of course they still spent time together, but that didn’t make you any happier to see him. 

You tried to tiptoe past the kitchen doorway so you could make a mad dash to your bedroom without having to talk to Jun or any of your roommates, but you didn’t succeed. 

“Oh, Y/n! Look, Jun came to see you. Have you really been ignoring his texts and calls because you’re moping about Lee Minho?” 

Sometimes you had to really stop and ask yourself if Lia was your roommate and best friend or your mother. 

“In my defense, I’ve been ignoring everyone.” She shoots you a sharp look and you slump. “I’m sorry. I just thought it’d be too painful to talk to you when pretty much all of our memories together include him.” 

Jun’s eyes were soft and understanding as he took in your appearance. 

“Why don’t you go take a shower and I’ll fix up something to eat? You look like you could use a home cooked meal.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Jun,”

“I want to, and it’s no worry at all.” He gave you a kind smile and gently started pushing you in the direction of your bathroom. “Go on, take as much time as you need.”

You wanted to argue but your stomach growled and your muscles ached, so you gave in and grabbed a change of clothes and your dance team jacket from your room before starting up the water in your bathroom.

A hot shower was definitely what you needed, the warmth soothed you all over and you felt yourself truly relax for the first time in weeks. You ran the water until it was cold before finally getting out and getting dressed. Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, the aroma of a fresh, home cooked meal flooded your senses and your stomach growled. 

You slowly made your way back down the hall toward the kitchen. You hesitated to enter when you heard talking.

“He should be here any minute.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Jun? I mean, she’s trying to get over him.” 

“Trust me on this one, will ya? You didn’t have to sit through two years of high school with them and then deal with Minho ever since.” 

“That’s fair. Eve, hun, you met Y/n in university so you didn’t get a front row seat to the full extent of the no relationships thing. That girl and Min, they were such a disaster in high school.” Lia rolled her eyes. 

Before you could really stop to think about what they were saying, there was a knock at your door. You peered into your kitchen to see that they were all too busy talking to have heard it so you made your way to the door yourself.

You didn’t bother to check who it was, swinging the door open with zero hesitation and freezing immediately upon the sight in front of you. 

Lee Minho was standing outside your apartment with a sheepish grin and an oreo mcflurry.

You blinked at him twice and then shut the door.

Slowly turning on your heel, you see Eve, Lia, and Jun had finally noticed and were watching from the kitchen. You weren’t sure if you wanted to hug them or smack them.

“Hey! Don’t be rude, you can’t just slam the door in peoples faces!” Eve scolded.

Jun covered her mouth with his hand, not even flinching when she immediately licked it. “Open the door, Y/n. Trust me.”

Taking a deep breath, you turned back around and opened the door again, this time seeing a dejected Minho.

“Hi.” 

You weren’t really sure what else to say. It had been so long since you last interacted with him that you felt like that scared new girl looking for a sports credit all over again.

“Hey.” it was a lot more nervous than you were used to.

He seemed to be in a trance, as if he was seeing you for the first time. Raising a brow at him, you held the door open a little wider. 

“You gonna come in or what?” His eyes sparkled as he smiled and walked into your apartment. He looked around, not really sure what to do, and then he looked at you again, but this time he really looked at you.

“You’re wearing the jacket.” He whispered in shock.

You blushed and pulled it closer into yourself. “Yeah. I uh, I wear it a lot.” 

You crossed your arms self consciously and dropped your gaze to the floor. 

The hand holding the mcflurry came into view, and you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I used to bring you these all the time, don’t you remember?”

You smiled slightly. “Of course I do. Thanks.”

Taking the mcflurry, you shyly brushed by him and headed for the kitchen.

“So, Minho, what are you doing here?” You tried to sound nonchalant, but you knew he knew you better than that, even if you hadn’t seen each other since high school.

He took a deep breath and gently grabbed your arm, pulling you toward him.

“I came for you. I wanted to talk to you before the show the other week but by the time I got out the door you left through, you were gone. I didn’t know you could walk that fast, especially without tripping.” He laughed shyly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I was kinda sad you left without so much as a hello, but Jun said he could get in touch with you so I wasn’t too worried, but then you never picked up. If I did something to upset you, I’m really sorry.”

Your heart melted for him, and you looked at your shoes, suddenly feeling very guilty.

“Sorry about that. I’ve kind of just been going through a lot lately.”

He nodded understandingly and didn’t push it. 

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed you by your shoulders and made you look into his eyes.

“Did you find the note?”

You were nodding before you could stop yourself, you had never been able to lie to Lee Minho.

“I found it the day after I ran out.”

His face shifted from nervous to disappointed. “Is that why you stopped coming to my events?”

You froze, taken aback.

He knew you were there?

“If it makes you feel any better, I wrote that in high school, ya know? I thought when you found it, we’d still be by each other's sides. I’m sorry if it freaked you out. I’d take it all back if it meant you go back to attending my events” 

His words registered in your head faster than the sentiment behind them did and tears welled up in your eyes. You heard him curse and ask what was wrong, but you were lost in your thoughts.

You were so happy to hear he noticed you, he knew you were at his events and he noticed when you stopped coming, but then he told you he wishes he never wrote the letter that made you realize everything in the first place. It was all too much to handle in your fragile state. 

He gently cupped your cheeks and wiped away your tears. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” 

You stared up into his gorgeous brown eyes and wished you could stay drowning in them forever.

You had to distance yourself. He regretted the letter, he has a girlfriend, he only saw you as a friend.

Shoving him away from you, your heart ached at the gap between you and the sudden loss of contact.

“Why are you here?” You hated that your voice cracked, that your emotions were so close to the surface. 

“What do you mean, Y/n/n, I’m-”

“Don't call me that! Please, don’t call me that.”

It was taking everything in you not to run and lock yourself in your room. His presence was too much for you to handle. 

He just scoffed, brows furrowed. “Well then what do you want me to call you? Y/l/n?”

“Why are you here, Lee?” You asked again, your voice steadier than you expected this time.

He scoffed, his agitation almost palpable as he rolled his eyes. “I’m here because the girl I’ve been in love with since first year ran off when we finally could have reunited. I’m here because some part of me was hoping that maybe you finally realized how you felt.

“I spent every single day of my professional career trying to perform my best because I knew you’d be watching. I kept hoping that one day you’d come down from your seat in the stands after a show and hug me. I naively hoped I meant something, anything, to you.

“I’ve spent years waiting for a text or a call, anything that would prove to me that you missed me as much as I missed you, but I figured you’d finally had your dream life, and there wasn’t any place left in it for your fuckboy best friend from high school.

“I’m here because Jun said you haven’t been doing well lately and I figured the best medicine to cheer you up is an oreo mcflurry. I thought I could see you again, and we could talk, and I could finally have my Y/n back. But instead, I just learned that all those years of watching my performances didn’t mean what I’d hoped they did because the second you learned the truth, you left me behind.”

There were tears in his eyes now. He respected the distance you’d placed between the two of you, but you wished he wouldn’t.

You tried to process what he was saying, what it meant.

“That’s not true.” You whispered. His eyes were watery, proof of how hurt he felt, yet he refused to look away from you. “That’s not true at all. The letter didn’t scare me away, in fact it did the opposite. It made me realize I was always in love with you. I never wanted to admit it because I was scared, but there’s never been anyone else I’ve ever wanted to be with more than I want to be with you.

“I’m exactly what I never wanted to be. I’d give up everything to be with you. But I’d also give you up if it meant your happiness, and I didn’t want to be the girl to ruin your relationship because I was a few many years too late. I was just trying to let you go, Min. I needed to be apart from you in order to accept the truth of my situation.”

The room was quiet for only a few moments, you could see the gears turning in his head as he put together what you had said. 

“You love me?” His voice broke, as if the weight of the world had just lifted from his shoulders. “Wait, hold on, you think I have a girlfriend? And that's why you stopped coming to my events?”

“I saw the way you laughed with her, Min. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh that genuinely.”

He was thinking now, trying to remember. You could see when it clicked and he started laughing. 

“You saw me with Nari. Y/n, Nari is my cousin, we’re both only children so we’ve always been close, like siblings. She was in town to visit for her birthday.”

You blinked emotionlessly as you thought about it. How could you have been so stupid? A blush spread furiously and you hid your face in your hands. You were beyond embarrassed and wishing for the floor to open up and swallow you whole right about now. 

Minho gently pried your hands away from your face, a lovely smile gracing his lips.

“I only ever loved you, Y/n.”

a/n: thank you so much for reading my silly little story, reblogs/comments are a great way to interact and always appreciated🫶

Alternate Ending: heartbreak is a part of life

[wooahaes]

and everything nice

pairing: non-idol!changbin x gn!reader

genre: fluff. roommates au. idiots to lovers, at last.

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: food mentions. idiots finally confessing.

daisy's notes: a sequel to sugar & spice.

A little over a year ago, Changbin had tasted spiced cider after months of you building up to it. And it was good, sure, but the two of you had made some bet about him confessing to the person he liked if you were right. Yet here he was, standing in the same kitchen as you, heart still yearning because nothing came of that bet. He was rolling out pie dough for you now, gingerbread cookies in the oven again (the skeleton gingerbread men would soon make their return), and listening to you sing softly under your breath while you worked on the berry filling for your pie. 

It was weirdly familiar, to be honest. This year, you’d been bragging for months about your pies. Something about how this mixed berry pie would be the best thing he’d ever tasted, especially if it was served with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of it while it was still warm. Yet all he could do was replay what happened last year. He’d tasted the cup of spiced cider, and never told you that you were right: it was the best thing he’d ever tasted… But he was sure that it was because you made it. Everything tasted better when you made it: coffee, snacks, ramen at two in the morning… It was just something about your touch. 

“Hey… Binnie?” You didn’t look up, and he could hear the scrape of the wooden spoon against the bottom of the saucepan. “Remember last year?”

It was as though you read his mind. “Yeah?”

“I mean… Our bet. The one we never went through.”

Changbin turned to look at you, although you still hadn’t moved—not to face him, at least. You sounded so much quieter. A moment later, he spoke up, “Yeah. I remember it.” 

“Did you ever talk to them?”

He shook his head.  How did he say this without giving himself away? He spoke to you pretty much every day, after all. “Not about my feelings for them.”

“Why?”

“I’m scared they don’t see me in the same way.” Changbin turned back, staring down at the pie crust. He reached for the glass dish you had set out, “And if I mess it up, I don’t want to lose them. Is that wrong?” 

“No! No, that’s… That’s why I never said anything to the person I like.” You paused. “I mean. I don’t know—I never told you that I never pushed about the stupid bet because I didn’t want you to lose someone you care for.” 

Oh. Changbin wasn’t sure what to say. It just reminded him of why he liked you so much. He watched the slow way you scooped up a little bit of the pie filling, tasting it and mulling over it.

“Hey… Binnie, can you come taste this?” You pursed your lips, looking over to him after a moment. You scooped out more, waiting for him to come to your side as you held up the spoon. “There’s something off and I can’t figure out what it is…”

He reached forward, just pulling your wrist forward so that he could taste it. He wrinkled his nose a little—it was… not as sweet as he thought it would be. He’d seen you add lemon juice and a few other things. It was all just tart. 

“I think it needs sugar—”

“No… No, I don’t think so,” you pouted. 

He shook his head. “Just a little more. You only used half a cup, right?”

“Right—Last time I made it, it was too sweet.” 

Changbin stared at you, fully aware of how your mind could wander sometimes when cooking (especially on your own). You were good about it, sure, but he still knew how you could be. “Did you add too much last time?”

Immediate silence. “No. Maybe. Shut up.” You reached for the bag of sugar.

“You wanna bet on it?” He crossed his arms. “Prove me wrong. If I’m wrong, I’ll tell my crush how I feel. If I’m right, you have to.” 

“What?” You looked at him. “What crush—”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. I heard you telling your friend about some guy. If you can make me confess on a bet, I can, too.” 

If you wanted to say no, you could have. You would have. Instead, he saw something in your eyes as you nodded, agreeing to the terms after weighing your options. He stood by, watching as you measured out the sugar, mixing it into the filling. Soon enough, you tasted it again, and he could see the way your brows lifted. He had been right. You lowered your gaze for a moment, thinking to yourself. He’d expected you to pick up your phone, to excuse yourself and confess in private.

Instead, you met his eyes again. “Changbin? I’m in love with you.” 

He let out this strangled wheeze, as if you’d punched him in the stomach. When he thought about it, every single sign pointed to this truth. All he could do now was stare at you as he replayed every moment, lips parted as he tried to figure out what to say next. What to do next. Had that been a reason as to why you didn’t want him to confess last year? Because you were scared it wasn’t you? He’d have to ask you later. 

For now? All he could do was step forward, leaning in to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours, and he felt you reciprocate all too quickly, hands resting on his shoulders. His hands trailed up your sides before coming to linger at the bottom of your ribs, drawing you in closer.

“I think,” you mumbled against his lips when you pulled back, “we’re a little dumb, Changbin.”

He could only chuckle, drawing you back in. He would kick himself for being stupid later. Now? He’d savor the softness of your lips and the lingering taste of berries on them.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm

[w1ldthoughts]

The Forgotten One Chapter Four: You’re my Best Friend

Series Masterlist

Warning: Mentions of medication and injuries as well as trauma.

The first month after the accident was spent gingerly easing back into somewhat of a normal routine. Jack had physical therapy three times a week for his shoulder, got rid of the sling and prepared himself to head back to work. You had been recommended by your doctors to move at your own pace. You took up yoga and daily walks, anything to ease the mind and get you to relax enough to allow the memories to come flooding back naturally. The two of you had stopped putting pressure on getting you to remember and simply started over as friends. Jack was a fantastic roommate and you could see glimpses of why you fell for him so hard. He knew you like the back of his hand: your favorite shows, foods, music. And you began to unpack a lot of things about him too, like his disdain for the color yellow and his obsession with Pokemon cards.

But the most important part was the little things. He never forgot to give you your meds and a cup of water before bed. One afternoon he came back from PT and covered you with a blanket after you had fallen asleep on one of the couches in the living room. And there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t check in and ask how you were feeling and if there was anything he could do to help. Another thing you’d added to your routine was a weekly status report where you asked each other a series of questions regarding the state of your mental health. You asked each other about nightmares, things that were plaguing your minds during normal day-to-day activities and if there was anything either of you needed to get off your chest that you felt only the other would understand. He felt like less of a stranger and more of a partner in crime and that had made this time so much more comfortable.

“Now that I’m finally able to drive and we can go out and do things, I made plans for us this week.” Jack plops down onto the couch next to you, stealing a grape out of your bowl.

You furrowed your eyebrows in anticipation, “What are we getting into?”

“Several things, but I’m taking us to our first stop right now. So I’m going upstairs to change into something casual. We aren’t doing anything crazy.”

Thirty minutes later the two of you headed off in Jack’s car to your unknown location. You let out a laugh when he pulled into a parking spot and announced that this was the first stop.

“Main Event?” You giggled, “I haven’t been to one of these since—”

“Our first date.” He finished for you. “This is where I took you after finally convincing you to go out with me.”

“This is amazing. My first date with the son of a billionaire was at a massive arcade.” You shook your head, unable to wipe the smile off your face. “Alright then, let’s do this. Might have lost my memory but I will never lose my competitive spirit. Are you ready to get your ass beat in these games Mr. Harlow?” You gave him a cocky smirk.

There’s my girl, he thought to himself.

He unfortunately got the best of you in pop-a-shot but you did beat him at air hockey. Then you headed over to the skeeball area and it got him thinking.

Four years earlier…

“What the fuck? Are you some sort of skee ball professional or something, what is this?” Jack cackled, watching you land in the 100 slot for the third time in a row. “Here I thought I was going to impress you with my ticket earnings and get you a massive bear but you might have to get me one.”

He’d reserved the entire building for three hours just for the two of you. “You know, I’m really glad you didn’t bring me to some Michelin star restaurant with seven one-bite courses. This is so much better.”

Jack grabs the ball from you, rolling it into the 40 slot, a look of disappointment written all over his body. You hugged his arm and gave him a pat on the back, “you’ll get ‘em next time buddy, maybe you’ll even be as good as me when you grow up.”

He kisses the smile off your face and every one of your pores oozes happiness. You were on a date with your fucking boss and you were actually enjoying it. You enjoyed being with him and it was apparent with the intensity of the kiss that he felt lasted a lifetime. He wanted to keep kissing you, keep laughing with you and keep enjoying every moment he got to spend with you, as long as you’d allow it.

The two of you walked over to the prize station at the end of your adventure and you let Jack pick out a prize that he happily walked around with for the rest of the day.

“Wait…is that why you have that giant blue teddy bear in your room?” You laughed, taking a bite of your pizza as you watched him nod.

He gives you a warm smile. “Sometimes when I miss you I just grab him and put him in the bed so I have something to hold on to. It’s one of my favorite memories of us. Just having fun, playing silly games without any care in the world.”

You couldn’t even begin to imagine the heartache he must feel every day. Seeing you but not being able to be with you in a way that he’d gotten used to. But it felt nice to hear him talk about your past without as much sadness in his eyes as the first days, if you had to guess it was probably a bit therapeutic.

“Well, what prize are you going to pick out with these tickets?” You asked, looking at the bag full of them.

“You should choose.” He nodded his head towards the prizes when you got there.

The two of you stood there for a second as you pondered your decision. “I think I want the purple bear with the bowtie. Purple is your favorite color, right?”

He clears his throat, physically getting rid of the lump forming there. “Um yeah—yeah purple is my favorite color, I only mentioned that once. Glad you remembered.”

“Okay so I’ll get the purple one then.” You thanked the employee when he handed it to you and you let Jack carry it out to the car. “You know that blue is my favorite color which is probably why you got it, so that’s why I got this one. Now we each have a bear in our beds and even though we’re not connected like how we used to be, we can make new memories that are just as special.”

Jack nodded slowly and pulled you in for a hug, letting out a sigh of relief when you returned his embrace. Maybe this walk down memory lane was just what the doctor ordered.

The next stop on the tour was a visit to your old apartment building, the one you vividly remembered. It was completely empty and the walls had been painted a sleek cool gray instead of the white chipped walls that you were used to.

“How did you get access to this place?”

“I bought it.” Jack states plainly. “Wanted to turn this into an extra space for you to do whatever you wanted since you mentioned how much you loved it. So I was planning on refurbishing it to whatever you decided but obviously we didn’t get around to it.”

Ew, he really really loved you and the little crush on him that you’d been pushing down for the last couple of weeks was getting harder to hide. “Okay so, this was my apartment. Why is this what you called the most important place on memory lane?”

Three Years Earlier…

“You really need to start being more serious. Captain America: The Winter Soldier is so much better than Iron Man 2 and you know that! Steve having to literally fight to the death against his childhood best friend and then realizing it was Bucky? Please, that is cinema.” You scoff, tossing another Sour Patch Kid into your mouth.

Jack throws his head back in laughter, irking your nerves even more. “You think anything with Chris Evans is ‘cinema’ so I don’t really wanna hear it.”

“Says the guy who drools every time he watches an episode of The Sopranos!” You point your finger at him for emphasis, “you have no room to talk.”

“Aw, is my baby jealous of Meadow Soprano? Come here.”

You resist his advances by turning your head back to the screen in front of you. Jack moves closer and closer until he’s sitting on top of you on the couch. “Jack move, you’re heavy.”

“Not until you give me a kiss.”

“No, just move. I can’t breathe.” You laugh as he holds your face in his large hands, scooting to the side to take some of his weight off of you, but not entirely getting off your lap.

Jack sighs as you close your eyes. “Look at me.” You shake your head and he repeats himself until you blink your eyes open. “There she is. Meadow ain’t got nothing on you baby…trust me.”

“You’re my favorite thing in the world. My one and only. And I would still love you even if you chose Chris Evans over me.”

You swore the Earth stopped spinning for a second. “You what?”

“I said, I would still love you even if—”

“You love me?” You whispered, a tingling sensation brewing in your legs that wasn’t from your boyfriend sitting on them. You felt like you were floating.

He let out a stifled laugh and gave you a gentle kiss. “I love you. So much. I love everything about you. And I’m not saying that just so you can say it back, I really mean that. I—”

“I love you too Jack. I really do, even if you do have shitty Marvel movie takes.”

Jack couldn’t wait until those three words came out of your mouth again. But he knew it would be worth it so just for that, maybe he could wait as long as it took, just to feel how he felt that day.

The two of you then headed over to Churchill Downs Inc., where everyone welcomed you with warm hugs and so much love. This really was the best place to work and you couldn’t wait to catch up on everything and head back to a somewhat normal life. And making money again didn’t sound too bad either. Jack walked with you upstairs and there was a man sitting at a desk in front of what you now noticed was your office door.

“Y/n, this is your assistant Ben. Ben, we’re just here to let her see the place and check everything out, shouldn’t be too long.” Jack reassures him, sensing that Ben was busy.

The man, who you now know as Ben, stands up anyway. “It’s so good to see that you’re out and about again. Do you guys need anything? Coffee or snacks? I just restocked your mini fridge in there just in case.”

“Thank you Ben, but I think I’m good for now.” You told him with a smile. He gives you a simple nod and returns the smile, all of his pearly whites on display. Cleo calls Ben’s phone and asks him to come to her office as Jack opens the office door and you follow right behind him.

“How long have I had this assistant? He seems to know every single thing about me.” You observe, opening the door to the mini fridge to find it full of your favorite drinks and the cabinet stocked with snacks that you thought only Jack knew you liked.

Jack leans on the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Um, maybe like a year? Probably a little longer. He’s good at his job though, he’s been keeping track of your progress reports and other stuff while we’ve been gone. And you seemed to like him before the accident so he’s probably overdue for a raise honestly.”

“Yeah you should give him one, he seems like he knows what he’s doing and he’s clearly doing it well.” You didn’t know why you felt so strongly about this since you just met him, but you felt like you needed to let Jack know that this was important to you.

He didn’t say another word, just let you look around until you got bored and then asked if you were ready to head home. You bid your goodbyes to everyone and headed back to Jack’s car so he could drive the two of you back to his—your shared house.

While you showered and got ready for the night, you thought back to the man you met earlier. You had to admit that Ben was cute and something about him felt peaceful and familiar, the kind of ease that took a month to build with Jack, who you supposedly were madly in love with. It made you feel bad so you ignored the nagging feeling and headed downstairs to find the curly haired man rapping along to some song called ‘Industry Baby?’ You still had things to catch up on but Jack was so busy with his salmon and the song to even notice you coming into the kitchen. He looked so free and happy that it made your heart swell. You wondered how many times you’d seen this sight, your man cooking dinner for you, serenading you along the way and listening to music together while you cleaned up the kitchen afterwards. The song “You are the Reason” came up as you placed the last utensil in the dishwasher and Jack reached out to you.

“Can I have this dance?” He asked and you dried your hands off to join him. You allowed him to pull you into his arms, slowly swaying to the music, your bodies fitting together seamlessly. He spun you around a few times and welcomed you back in, your head resting on his chest as the hand that wasn’t holding yours made its way around your waist. You found yourself resting your arms around his neck, taking a look in his eyes, a toothy grin appearing on his face. This was the closest you two had been since you woke up and your heart was beating in your ears when you found yourself looking at his lips. The thought of kissing him was exhilarating and he leaned down to press his nose against yours, his touch tickling your skin. He leaned in tentatively and luckily your hands were already around his neck so you pulled him down to you, your lips connecting in a tender kiss, the most delicate one you’d ever experienced and those feelings of anticipation and nerves melted away and made way for—nothing.

You felt nothing. No fireworks or warm sensation in your body sending shivers down your spine like you expected. You were kissing your boyfriend for god’s sake. The man who had literally dropped everything and catered to your every whim the last month and three weeks and now you were finally doing something with some sort of romantic intimacy and it left you feeling…empty.

It was too much. You frantically pulled away, feeling tears brewing in your eyes and Jack looked at you, clearly concerned.

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” He gave you a look over to see if there were physical signs of pain like bloodshot eyes or a pronounced vein on the side of your head that he now had come to learn you got when you had a migraine.

“I didn’t—I didn’t feel anything when we kissed.” You sobbed, a hot tear burning its way down your cheek. “Nothing came back either. I thought, I thought something would come to me, maybe even a flash of a memory, anything really.”

He sighs and runs his hands up and down your shaky arms. “It’s okay, we’re okay. We don’t have to rush anything, the way we’re headed is just fine it’s not—”

“Aren’t you concerned that I didn’t feel anything? No spark no—no butterflies, nothing! That doesn’t scare you?” You stressed, stepping back from him.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re recovering from a traumatic brain injury y/n, a true love's kiss isn’t going to magically fix it and I recognize that. We have to be patient. Take it a day at a time like we said?”

“I’m TIRED of being patient Jack. It’s been a month and I still have no idea who the hell I'm supposed to be. I don’t want to wait anymore.” The tears would not stop flowing and you couldn’t wipe them away fast enough. Things weren’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jack rushes out, alarms sounding off in his head.

You didn’t know what to say so you didn’t say anything, he watched you walk upstairs to your room and heard the door close. He took his time heading up to his room, stopping at your room for a few minutes, listening to your sobs through the door. All he could do was shed a few tears of his own, knowing deep down that he was losing his best friend.

Taglist

@jackharloww

@killatravtramp

@middlechild404

@harlowcomehome

@itsyagirljaz

@iknowdatsrightbih

@earthtoharlow

@alimaythings

@rosie-posie08

[saturnxgojo]

College Adventures w Scaramouche and Kazuha, episode 2 (fluff) (college AU)

✦ Pairing: Scaramouche x afab!reader x Kazuha (she/her pronouns used two times near the end)

✦ Summary: in which reader invites Scaramouche and Kazuha to her home over christmas break; and they meet readers best friend, and get to know more about reader

✦ Warnings: nothing much, fluff, use of pet names (love), cuddling with kazu, plane ride, mentions of being a loser and a freak, some swearing, ooc scara but what do you expect of me? i love him. also aether is here!!! kazu scara n reader are not yet in a relationship (keyword: not yet)

✦ A/n: okay im not dead, i just had a massive writers block. so enjoy your food

✦ Wordcount: 850

✦ ATTENTION!!! do not copy. translate, remake my work, i do not give you permission to so dont do it. also GIF not mine, credits to the creator.

previous part next part

You awoke as Scaramouche softly shook your shoulder, lifting your head up from Kazuha’s shoulder to look at him you giggled at his messy hair.

“We're almost landing, put your seatbelt on.” you nodded, waking Kazuha as you did so. 

“Zuha, wake up, we're landing” you poked your fingers in his side and he immediately awoke; his hair also messy from the plane ride.

Oh yeah right; it was finally Christmas break and you couldn’t wait till you were home, and to show Kazuha and Scaramouche your home. And ofcourse you were excited to see your childhood best friend too, who wouldn’t? 

So when you finally arrived at your childhood home, the two boys were amazed. 

“Why do you work at a grocery store when you live in a house like this?” Scaramouche asked but you didn’t have time to respond before you saw a certain blonde emerge from the neighbors house. 

“Aether!” you yelled, running up to him before your friends had even realized. Swinging your arms around his neck as your bodies collided. His arms moved across your waist as he lifted  you up from the ground.

Finally catching up with you Scara and Kazuha watched the situation, Scara’s eyes going from Aether to his house, to you to your house. Holy shit, they’re rich best friends, what in the Archons.

Pulling back from your hug you smiled wider than Kazuha and Scaramouche had ever seen you smile. “Aether these are Kazuha and Scaramouche, my roommates. Scara, Kazu, this is Aether, my childhood best friend.” 

As the three of them said hi to each other you reached into your bag for your keys. Walking to the door you stepped into your childhood home. A smile appeared on your face as you breathed in the scent that carried so many memories. “Okay so why did you never tell us you were like- rich?” asked Kazuha as he stepped inside. 

“Nononono more like, why work at a grocery store when you live in a house like this?” Scaramouche repeated his previous question.

“One: I didn’t think it would matter, and it in fact didn’t. And two: because I like doing so, plus it gives me some more cash. Because most of my money is in my savings for later.”

Aether giggled as he walked inside, making a beeline for the living room- after all he did spend most of his childhood here. “My mom and Y/n’s parents own a security company together, that’s why this house is absurd.” 

After the two guys came down from their shock Aether spinned up a conversation bringing up old memories. 

“Prom, freshman year.” Was all he had to say to make you want to disappear into the couch. Shaking your head as you laughed.

“The day we went from losers to absolute freaks.” you couldn’t contain your laugh. “We were so bad.” 

Kazuha and Scaramouche looked like they just saw an elephant in a dress.

“What-”

“Our popularity came in junior year. When we started throwing our parties. That’s when we went from freaks to tolerated.”

“Because they realized we were rich and could get good alcohol and stuff.” “But nonetheless, we were no longer freaks.”

Scaramouche and Kazuha listened as you told them the stories. How once people realized you weren't just some losers they started tolerating you. 

“It was our halloween party that did the trick- we told everyone to arrive at 9PM, and of course because of our cameras outside we filmed the whole thing. But, we scared the shit out of everyone who arrived, all different tactics. Best night ever.”

“Don’t forget we posted it on Vine back then and it went viral.”

Scaramouche and Kazuha listened in awe as you told the stories. You never talked a lot about your childhood and now it all fell out of you like someone took your filter away and turned the sink on. And the smile on your face was the best part in both their opinions. 

Finally hours later after Aether had left you retreated to your bedroom. Of course both boys had their own rooms but Scaramouche has had problems adjusting to staying in new places so naturally both boys were in your room. You didn’t mind it at all. So after coming back washing your face in the bathroom you snuck in your own bed. 

Arms wrapped around your waist almost on instant, pulling you against his chest Scaramouche sighed. You closed your eyes as you felt his body warmth radiate onto yourself. Soon enough you felt the mattress dip and a hand softly brushing your hair out of your face. As you felt your consciousness slipping away you felt a soft kiss being placed on your forehead.

“Goodnight, love.” Kazuha whispered as he took your hand on his.

Scaramouche didn’t say anything, he just pulled you even closer. 

After a while Kazuha spoke in a whisper, “She’s going to be the death of us.”

“Yeah, and she has no idea.” Scaramouche sighed, softly caressing your waist as he felt sleep coming for him too.

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

lowkey hate this but it was necessary for the next part. i love scaramouche.

[subwaysurf45]

A Little Rusty (Ep.4)

Summary: As an aspiring author and current intern, getting a new car was a luxury you never dreamed of. Natasha, your roommate, used you as a personal chauffeur until your car started breaking down. Luckily, you knew some people who worked at Auto Buddy, an auto shop, who could fix your car. But you hadn’t met Bucky yet, and quickly after you found out you’d be stuck with him for a little while.

Pairing: Mechanic!Bucky x reader

words: 4,888

Warnings: big altercation, mentions of death, fighting, yelling, angst-turned-fluff!

Series Masterlist 

Bucky had started avoiding you now. 

When you worked as the secretary at Auto Buddy his eyes casted down and he didn’t flirt with you anymore. Before you had said his looks were too much but now there was a empty feeling in your chest, he didn’t compliment you anymore or really try to have a conversation. He needed space and you knew that, the entire altercation in the parking lot was just miscommunication that didn’t get cleared up soon enough. 

You: hey, I know things are weird and stuff but I’d really like for you to come to the opener tonight, it would mean a lot. 

Bucky: I’ll try my best to be there, things are coming up at home

As you sat in the house seats while watching the rehearsal you frowned at your phone, there were no text bubbles popping up so that was what he left you with, no explanation. Your book was pulled up beside you, your laptop shining a blue light on your face. You had started to get the ball moving when it came to publishers, emailing back and forth to see when a good meeting time would be. Only one company had really stuck with you but the boss was on vacation so you’d meet with him when he got back. 

Time passed and your fingers typed quickly on your keyboard, letting everything that was piled up flow out as you tried to work it into the plot of your story. It seemed to work, you wrote chapters out of order but always saved the climactic scenes for the end. Lightbulbs kept going off in your head, you could barely keep up with everything you were writing. 

“Let me see that,” the laptop was ripped out of your hands and Ryan stood above you, looking at what you were writing, “what is this?” 

“Give it back,” you stood and took the laptop back, making sure everything was saved before closing it. You looked around to see no one was rehearsing anymore, “are you guys done?” 

“Were we really that boring?” Ryan crossed his arms in front of his chest, you couldn’t figure out if he was being sarcastic or not. 

“No,” you laughed it off, “I was just really into my book.” 

“Sure,” he nodded, “so…who’s coming from your family tonight?” 

“Just friends, my roommate and some people…” you shrugged, not knowing what to call Bucky in this situation. 

“You mean the friend who’s rude to you and the guy who’s grooming you?” he was not sarcastic. 

Your eyebrows pulled together as you recoiled from his bluntness, “Ryan,” you gritted our, “he’s not grooming me and my roommate is my closest friend, she’s my everything.” 

“Come on,” he laughed, “you can’t be serious, right?” he looked around, checking over his shoulder before looking back down to you, “they’re all your friends because they feel bad, don’t you see that?” you gave him a confused look, “what’s something all your friends have that you don't?”

“I don’t know…?” you felt yourself shrinking, wishing Bucky was here. 

“They have a steady income,” his head dropped to the side like you should have known the answer, “they have steady jobs and no money or food insecurity. You on the other hand are now working two jobs for money and are dreaming of a business you will probably never succeed in, alright?” His hand reached out and touched your shoulder, coldness radiated from the area, “I’m your everything, I’m the only one who’s real with you and actually cares, you see?” 

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, your hand running up and down your forearm, after thinking for a moment you became more sure, “yeah, I get it.” 

“Good,” he leaned back and smiled, “you can hang with me after the show, I wouldn't want you to uninvite them all of a sudden, just find me after the show and we’ll figure it out.” His voice was so calm as he spoke, eyes full in sincerity; it actually seemed like he cared. 

Your mind was blank as you tried to forget what he was saying, though part of you thought he was being truthful the other half didn’t like how rude he was. Your mind faded to when Bucky said he was ‘buttering you up’ which didn’t make sense back then but you were starting to figure it out now; you had never dealt with abuse before and you didn’t know how it really started. 

Bucky might be right. 

All the cast and crew members sat around the stage as well as change rooms to talk and get ready for the performance. You knew most cast members were getting a little hasty recently because the show hadn’t been picked up and they wanted to get paid a little more for their efforts. It wasn’t greedy of them to want more money, they were severely underpaid but knew that’s how it would be in the beginning. The issue is that no one knows how long they’ll have to wait before getting a larger paycheck. 

Paychecks for cast were a lot different than crew, you had seen a raise in your pay but it wasn’t where you wanted it to be. Sam, the old Master of Props, was paid a lot more than you when he worked here. Maybe over time it would add up and seem like a lot but you needed most of that money now, you didn’t have time to save and invest. 

You sat alone in the prop room, painting the small things that were chipped during rehearsal. As you wokred with your headphones in you didn’t see the missed calls that were racking up on your phone, for some reason they weren’t going through. But after a song you didn’t like turned on you frantically called Natasha. 

“Hey-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” she screamed, your head jerked away from the phone. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” you had never heard her this angry, “you called Bucky and told him not to come, you crushed his fucking heart, Y/N!” 

“I didn’t do that,” you quickly ran outside through the back door, thinking you were running to your car but it was still gett fixed though it was almost done, “it must have been Ryan, I’m not kidding, he said all these things to me today and then he must have called, holy shit…” tears began to well in your eyes, “I’m not kidding, I really like Bucky, he poured his soul out to me a couple days ago- you know I’m not the person to do that,” as you stood in the alleyway your hands quickly moved to brush away your tears. 

“What did Ryan say?” her anger seemed to shift focus. 

“He said none of you guys actually cared about me,” it came out a choked sob, “he said you all faked it because you felt bad I don’t have a real job like you guys, he said I should trust him and only really hang out with him because he’s the only one that cares for me.” your hand gripped your throat, trying to scratch out the lump, “I know he’s wrong but he just knows what to say, he knows how to get in my head,” you cried as you slumped down the wall, wanting to curl on your side. 

Natasha stayed silent for a while as you sobbed apologies into your phone, trying to get her to say something. She was muttering to herself, a few curses, and groans. You didn’t know where she was but when you heard the sound of keys jingling you perked up. “Hold on, I’m coming to get you,” it was quick but you couldn’t ask why because of how fast she hung up. 

A hand gripped your mouth, making sure Ryan wouldn't hear you and get in your head again. The sound of your heartbeat thumped in your ears, your eyes squeezed shut. Two scenes were eliminated as you waited, trying not to be heard or seen. When you felt two hands grab you, a scream ripped from your lungs, you hit your head against a brick wall you were leaning against. What you saw was not what you expected. 

Bucky, with Natasha behind him. 

He looked like a mess, his eyes were bloodshot and his face was a little sunken on. A bit of muscle has dissolved as well, most likely from not eating as much as he should. But when you realized it was him you leaped for him like he did to you in the parking lot, wrapping your arms tightly and never letting go. 

“I didn’t say those things,” you rasped out, “I promise.” 

“I believe you,” his lips moved against your ear, “I know exactly how you feel, trust me, I know what he’s doing.” 

“I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, trying to get so close you wanted to crawl in his skin. 

“We’re going to get you out of here,” his hand pushed up your back and in a soothing way, “no show tonight for you, you need to get out of here.” 

“Okay,” you cried, turning your head towards his neck so your nose pressed right up against his skin. 

“I don’t think that’s gonna work,” a new voice called from the door, you pulled away to see Ryan standing there with a curious look, “so this is the groomer?” 

“Ryan!” you screamed, trying to push Bucky behind you but he got to it first. 

“Let me cut to the fucking chase,” Bucky sized up the lanky theater boy, “you stay away from her, you hear me?” his head dipped as he checked Ryan out in a threatening way, “you’re fucking toxic and you know exactly what you’re doing.” 

“Really?” he asked, “I’m just saying what we are all thinking here.” 

“Really?” Bucky mocked, “because what I’m thinking is that you’re a fucking asshole who is trying to suck the life out my girl,” he growled, “I’m thinking that you’re creating then  praying on insecurities and trying to suck her into your little world, I know exactly what you’re doing-”

Ryan pulled his fist back but Bucky was too quick for him, ducking and punching Ryan in the stomach. You screamed out for Bucky, trying to get him to stop because you knew how much trouble you’d get into. 

“You wanna know how I know, huh, you wanna fucking know!” Bucky screamed from over top of Ryan, “because I had a girlfriend-a fucking wife just like you- I had a terrible human being butter me up and make me feel lonely, make me feel insecure, and make me feel like she was the only person I needed,” he panted from above, “she hit me, threw things, tried to fucking kill me once- but that doesn’t matter, you wanna know why?” when Ryan didn’t say anything Bucky screamed again, “I asked a fucking question!” 

“W-why?” Ryan was shaking, you had never seen him like this before. 

“I’ll tell you why,” Bucky kneeled, “Y/N over there doesn’t deserve your bullshit, she doesn’t deserve part of her life wasted only to leave her traumatized.” he gripped Ryan’s chin, watching as he squirmed to get away, “does this make you uncomfortable?” his mocking tone dripped from his mouth, “good.” he flicked his hand off and stood up, turning to you and seeing you stand in Natasha’s hug. 

Ryan took the chance to run inside, slamming the door behind him. When you saw Bucky standing there, fists clenched and labored breaths you saw something else. He was hurting, tears gathered in his eyes as he looked at you, something was happening in his head. 

“A-” the words got caught on his tongue, “are you scared of me now?” 

“Oh god,” you sighed and ran to him, pulling him down into a hug, “I’d never be scared, never, don’t ever think that.” his face wasn’t deep in your neck like yours was, he was looking forward. When you pulled away you saw Natasha staring at Bucky, a look was shared between the two of them that you didn’t know the reason behind. 

“Let me take you to my apartment,” Bucky whispered, “I have to show you something.” 

“It’s okay,” you sniffled and pulled away, brushing your fingers through his hair, “let's go to my place-”

“I have to,” his voice shook, “I have to.” 

Natasha drove in Steve’s car, she didn’t have a license but you didn’t care at that point. You and Bucky sat in the back seat, arms wrapped around each other as you both silently cried. He’d pet your hair and kiss your head, whispering things to you. Your fingers found their way to his beard and began playing with it, liking the way it sounded against your nails. There were a few gray patches that were coming in, making sure he knew you loved them. You left a kiss there. 

It was the most intimate you had been with him, kissing his stubble. It seemed he noticed it too, looking down at you and kissing your forehead but leaving his lips pressed to your skin for a while, letting you soak in his love. Both of you worked to clear each other’s tears, trying to swipe them away and soon enough you were able to stop the tears. 

The windows were down and the spring, turning summer, air whipped across your face, drying out the tears on your cheeks. When Bucky felt you shiver he pulled you closer, after a few shivers in a row he kept you squeezed and let his cheek rest on the top of your head. His thumb never stopped gently rubbing your arm, it was a very simple action but even the smallest thing he did made you melt into him more. 

After driving straight for a while Natasha turned right and into an apartment complex, it was a little outside the city so there was more greenery and space around. Through the window you were facing you saw people standing on balconies using their barbeque or sitting on furniture having a drink with their friends. 

Natasha pulled into a driveway and turned off the car, letting all three of you sit in silence for a couple minutes. Bucky slowly moved and Natasha turned around, “Here you are,” Natasha whispered, “I believe in you, Buck.” then her eyes moved down to you, “I love you, Y/N, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” with a small smile you nodded and got out of the car. 

“Thank you,” he smiled for a second before helping you get out. 

His complex was smaller than yours, there were balconies for every apartment which took up a lot of space on the outside of the building. The windows were large, most likely letting in lots of natural light. It was a red colour brick that held together three stories of apartments, parking lots were everywhere and entrance points. 

“Okay,” he whispered after walking up to the door that was next to his convertible, “remember when we first met and you saw that little girl with the giraffe on my phone?” You nodded, instinctively taking his hand into yours, “that’s not my niece…” he smiled as tears gathered in his eyes, “her name is Rebecca, I call her Becca, she’s named after my sister who moved to Europe and she’s…” he swallowed heavily, “she’s my daughter.” 

His face cringed as he waited for your response, “how old is she?” you asked softly. 

“Sh-she’s five,” his eyes lit up, realizing you weren’t going to leave, “just celebrated so…she’s got some new toys and stuff.” 

“Would you like me to meet her?” you asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek, “you can tell her I’m a really good friend.” 

“I’ve talked about you before,” he laughed it off, “you are a really good friend from work,” the smile grew, “she’s wanted to meet you for a while.” 

“Can I ask a question?” you stepped forward, placing both hands on his chest, “does she know her mother?” 

Bucky shook his head, “she left pretty soon after she was born.” 

“And-...” your hand came to cover your trembling lip, “did the mother really try to kill you?” 

“I have a really nasty scar on my left shoulder,” was all he said before taking you up the stairs. 

You walked behind him on the single-file staircase, you could see he was biting his nails and the calluses on his palm. It was painfully obvious Natasha had driven to Bucky’s apartment and then to the theatre, he was dressed in plaid pyjama pants and a solid army green shirt. His hair was a little ruffled, he didn’t have time to pull it back or curl it behind his ear when Natasha probably broke into his house. 

His apartment was in the middle of the hallway, his hands shook as he tried to get the key into the lock. “Here,” you whispered and gently placed your hand over his, guiding it into the lock and turning it for him. Before the door could completely open Bucky took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back, putting a smile on his face. 

“Daddy!” a little voice screamed, bare feet slapped against the tile as a little girl ran to Bucky, jumping into his arms because he crouched down. 

“Hey, princess,” Bucky whispered and held his daughter’s head into his chest, “I told you I’d be back by the time the movie was done.” Bucky stood up and kept Becca on his hip, “let me introduce you to my friend.” 

You leaned forward, “hi,” you tickled her chin which made her squeal. Becca became shy and tried to hide in Bucky’s chest, you just laughed and scratched her back, making her peek her head out to see you. 

“Are you daddy’s friend?” she whispered. 

“Yes I am,” your hand rubbed her back for a bit. 

Bucky walked into his apartment and you followed, taking a seat at a bar stool after Bucky placed her down in front of the TV with her toys. When he came back over to you his arms pulled you into a hug, you rubbed his back and let him take a deep breath. 

“Excuse me, Ms.?” the little voice piped up, you leaned out of the hug to see Becca holding two dolls, “do you wanna play?” 

“Of course,” you smiled and rubbed Bucky’s back one more time before walking over to her play area, “and just call me Y/N,” you squished her cheeks, “can I call you Becca?” 

“Yes please,” she smiled and jumped from a sitting position, handing you a doll. She didn’t give any context for what the story was about but you played along, making sound effects and changing your voice for dialogue. 

“So,” you whispered, “what’s the story?” 

Becca’s face lit up, “okay, so here’s me,” she held up a doll with blue eyes and curly dark hair who actually looked like her, “and you take her because she looks like you,” Becca passed you another doll from her container. 

“Thank you,” you smiled and changed how you were sitting from resting on your calves to crossed legged, knowing you were going to be here for while. 

“This is my pet Sparky,” she held up an orange cat toy that was proportionate to the doll, it did look like they didn’t come together in one set. Becca’s chest was filled with random figurines and dolls, there was another box beside her with lego in it; some sets were built and others were definitely her own creation. 

“Hello Sparky,” you took your doll and made it wave their hand, make Becca burst out in happy laughter, excited that you were actually playing. 

Becca’s ideas were cut off with anecdotes, she’d look at a toy and think of something else to tell you. It was obvious she told Bucky about what she was playing, her eyes either looking at the dolls as she petted their hair back or looking at Bucky who was making something in the kitchen. Becca went at lightning pace as she introduced you to every single toy she owned, you did the same thing everytime; waving your doll’s hand which made Becca extremely happy. 

The small area in front of you was now filled with toys that were taken out of the now empty bins, Bucky looked over and asked Becca to clean them up when she was done but Becca nodded with a smile, “I always clean up,” she said to you. 

“That’s good,” you nodded with a wide smile, the more you looked at her the more you saw Bucky in the features of her face, her eyes and the colour of her hair. Their smiles were the same, when she’d giggle you looked over at Bucky to see him smiling the same way. 

When Becca was too busy finding another toy to re-introduce to you, you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky standing with his arms crossed and leaning up against the counter, the proudest look on her face as he watched Becca, he didn’t even notice you were looking at him; all his attention was on his beautiful daughter. 

With a loud gasp Becca stood up and got everyone’s attention, “daddy?” she asked. 

“Yes, princess?” 

“Can…” Becca got shy again, wrapping her skirt around her fingers, “can I show Y/N Mr. Fuzzy Bear?” 

Bucky nodded but did so very slowly, “you wanna show her Mr. Fuzzy Bear?” it looked as though he was in disbelief. 

“Yes please,” she jumped a few times, taking off and running down the short hallway and into her room. 

When you looked at Bucky his mouth was slightly open, after whispering his name he looked at you, “her favourite bear, I’m only allowed to touch him when I have permission, he sits on the toilet when she takes a bath, it can’t leave her room…” he shook his head and leaned forward to try and see her in her room, “Becca, baby?” he called but got no response, “she’s probably nervous,” he whispered to you and walked over to her room, knocking on the door before walking in, “what’s going on, hunny?” his voice grew sympathetic immediately. 

Only now did you hear her crying. 

Without trying to be nosy you tried to tune out the hushed noises coming from the pink room. Your hands made work on organizing her toys, trying to place all the same kind of dolls together in the bucket, you collected the dresses and other clothes the dolls could wear and laid them flat in the box while also putting in random things that didn’t really fit. You noticed there were rectangular imprints on the carpet in the corner, somewhat hiding behind the TV. you pushed both boxes over and then sat up, not knowing what to do now. 

Very cautiously you walked over to her room, hearing little sniffles and Bucky’s gentle words drifting out of the small crack left from the door that was left ajar. Her door had a few drawings on it and her name on a little sign. 

“Mrs. Becca,” you said as softly as you possible can, “would you like to see how I put away all your toys, I want to make sure I did it right.” you waited and heard a gasp from Bucky. 

“Do you want to go see?” his voice was very high. 

“It’s okay if I did it wrong, you can teach me,” your hand laid flat again the door, slowly pushing it open and giving Becca enough time to run up and slam if shut if she so chose. When you pushed the door completely open you saw Becca sitting on the edge of her bed with a small brown bear in her arms and pushed tightly against her chest. “You have a lovely room, Becca,” you looked around, trying not to look at the bear. 

“What do you say?” Bucky rubbed her back. 

A muffled, “thank you,” came from Becca as she shoved her face in the bear’s head. 

“Bucky,” you smiled at him, “can I talk to you outside for a sec?” 

“Yeah,” Bucky stood and pressed a kiss to Becca’s head. He could tell what was coming and after shutting the door softly he rubbed your arm, “sorry about that,” his voice was barely a whisper to make sure Becca didn’t hear, “she’s very possessive over the bear.” 

“Is that it?” you asked, “what did she say?” 

Bucky walked forward and away from the door which prompted you to follow him into the living room, “she loves Nat, Steve, Sam, everyone who comes here, she has a blast when they’re over…” he paused and looked over to see her door still shut, “she told me that because I’ve talked about you before she wanted to make sure you’d like her like my other friends did and none of them have really met Mr. Fuzzy Bear,” he said the name so casually, “and she thought she had enough courage to show you because she really likes you and likes how you play with her so…yeah,” he shrugged, “bit off more than she could chew, the same thing happened last week when there was show and tell and she wanted to bring her bear.” 

“She got upset?” you asked, feeling your heart twist a little. 

“She’s very attached to her toys, I mean, her mind is so creative she’s got all these stories for all her toys and she remembers all of them and she makes personalities and voices for all her dolls it’s just…” Bucky shrugged and pushed the hair out of his face, “she’s very attached to Fuzzy Bear and recently she wants other people to meet him but she hasn’t learned how to do that yet, as much as I hate seeing her cry and I want her to figure out on her own that she can introduce her favourite things to other people without thinking people are going to leave or make fun of her.” 

“I see,” you nodded, “I think you’ve shown her a great tip.” 

“What do you mean?” he smirked. 

“Becca is your Mr. Fuzzy Bear,” you laughed and Bucky shook his head, not understanding, “you didn’t want me to meet or know about Becca for a while because you didn’t want me running away, she’s your daughter so yes you’re going to be protective of her but you just learned that showing people things won’t always lead to bad stuff happening- I think your daughter is so cool, she reminds me of me.” 

“I-...” Bucky stood there and looked over his shoulder, at a loss for words, “you’re right…” 

You patted his shoulder and walked around Bucky heading back over to the room, the door was shut again so you knocked, “Hey, Becca.”

“Yeah?” her voice sounded a little better, not full of tears or shaky. 

“What colour is Mr. Fuzzy Bear?” 

“He’s got light brown fur that’s very short but very soft,” you could hear the tiniest smile. 

“Becca has anyone told you how smart you are?” you paused and she didn’t respond, “you’re in kindergarten and you’re saying all these descriptive words, do you know what they’re called?” 

“...” the door slightly opened, “what is it called?” her head poked out. 

You crouched down, “my job is writing stories, in order to tell people what things look like I use adjectives,” you paused and watched her figure the word out, repeating it back to you, “so brown, soft, short hair, those are all…” 

“Addictives!” she cheered, you nodded even though she got it wrong. “You make stories for work like daddy fixes cars?” Her eyes widened. 

“I do,” you bite your bottom lip to match what she was doing, trying to hold in excitement, “I make ideas in my head and I write them out, just like you make stories in your head and act them out, isn’t it fun?” 

“It’s my favourite,” she said right away, “Mr. Fuzzy Bear has been my friend for a long time, he gives really good hugs and likes to watch me play with my toys. I normally tell him and daddy all my stories for my dolls.” 

“Very cool,” your hand reached out and rubbed her chubby cheek, “can I tell you something?” you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky smiling proudly again, you leaned in and acted like you were telling a secret. “It’s okay if you don’t want me to meet Mr. Fuzzy Bear, I’m not mad, I love your other dolls and toys too, I’m not going to be upset.” when you pulled away Becca was staring at you. 

“Really?” her hands went back to her skirt, “you won’t get mad?” 

“Not at all,” your hand twisted a curl around a finger, “can I stay for dinner though?” 

“Daddy?” Becca yelled, “can Y/N stay for dinner?” 

“Of course she can,” Bucky nodded and opened his arms wide, letting Becca sprint up to him and jump in his arms, “she can stay for as long as you’d like.” 

NEXT EPISODE

tag list info: if you’d like to be added to the tag list please send an ask, it’s much easier for me to keep track of everything if all the of the requests come from the ask section. thank you! I won’t respond but just know that I see your ask, don’t worry!

Tag List: @imtherain@jackiehollanderr@redneckstrash@tylard-blog1@readingbooksdrinkingtea @linzc-reader @hotleaf-juice @honeybunchesofbucky @sky0401 @striving4averagegirl @seybox @happyt0exist @magicalsimp @johnricharddeacy @matchat3a @goldylions @adoringsebastianstan @yaszx @ginger-swag-rapunzel @awaywithtime @weirdowithnobeardo @esposamultifandom @tenpointsforbucky @emi11ie @mybuck @beabutterfly987 @adoringsebstan @prettywhenicry4 @swagisforsexwithandrewgarfield @deondralaufeyson @aya-fay @munsonette​ @booktease21​ @justyouraverage-simp​ 

[yoyoslumodernau]

Chapter 3: Discovering Wind

Enjoy wind fans (though he's only mentioned he gets more backstory revealed here!)

Legends' first few nights were not too bad. Other than the occasional strange feeling or the awkwardness between him and Twilight, things were slowly starting to get into a routine.

He'd wake up with the others, which was quite early, they'd eat breakfast and when his two new roommates would leave for school, he'd help Malon with the dishes and wait for her to leave.

Time had the luxury of going to work a bit later and would help legend settle in a bit before leaving as well.

He'd do a bit of schoolwork on his computer, malon decided not to register him with Twi’s school just yet since the year was almost over anyway.

It was unfamiliar but he was sure he'd feel at home eventually. He had to, he didn't want them to suspect anything was wrong, not after everything they were doing for him.

He felt himself just getting annoyed at little things, he knew he missed his uncle. He wanted to be back at the orchard, but there was no bringing him back.

He found himself by a river in the nearby woods one day, skipping rocks and passing the time till someone came home. It was peaceful, calm, and uninterrupted.

“There you are! I've been looking all over for you. What are you doing here?”

Legend whipped his head around and saw Twilight standing behind him, a not so pleased expression on his face.

Legend rolled his eyes and went back to his leisurely activity.

“Well, don't ignore me. Look I know you're new here and I'm not trying to be overbearing, it's just not good to be out here alone. One of my moms students wandered in here and was almost attacked by some wild creature.”

Legend looked back, “how do I know you're not making this up just to keep me from ruining things for you. Let's not pretend we're best friends, ok? I'm not trying to cause trouble for your family.”

Twilight sat down next to him, “Sorry, I just don't want you to get hurt. I may have not been the most approachable person back then, but we're brothers now and I need to step up.”

Legend scoffed and looked at his hands. He couldn't just let go of his past. Twilight was acting ridiculous, he wasn't mean to him, they just never had a reason to talk.

“Don't take this wrong but, you're acting a bit like Wind.”

Legend snapped his head towards Twilight, “What do you mean? Wind is like, I don't know, the happiest kid on the planet. I'm just a big mess."

Twilight laughed a bit, “No no, he is. He always knows how to cheer people up. He's trying really hard to make you feel welcome. I'm sure mom and dad have told you he's adopted."

Legend nodded, not knowing where the conversation was going.

“He used to live on a small island, with his grandma and sister. Well, he said they were his grandma and sister, I think the grandma was a sort of caretaker. Anyway, one day there was a boat taking orphaned kids here to the mainland. He was eligible for the sign up and decided to come. He was brought here after maybe a year or two at sea. My parents took him in and he was very grateful. Sometimes he gets into these moods where he regrets making that decision, he wants to go back. He misses them, but he doesn't want our parents to think they're not doing a good job. So he holds it in.”

Legend looked back down, “Wow, I never would have thought that's how he came here. I'm sorry for acting really weird, I guess I just miss my uncle.”

He felt a hand on his shoulder, “Don't worry about it. None of us want you to feel like you can't grieve, take some time, just relax. Now let's get inside before anyone else gets home.”

With that the two boys headed back to the ranch. Legend now felt a bit better about his new brothers.

[imaginefan]

Apartment Share

Lucien Castle X Reader

Word Count: 790

Requested: Anon

Request: Can you write something about being roommates with Lucien and reader she gets sick of all the girls he brings over? She has feelings for him but she just doesn't admit it to anyone and she doesn't admit it to herself.

Everything started well, you had a flat mate who you liked, it was a nice apartment and it was at half the price but before long things started to change. Lucien started to bring home girls, it was a different girl every night and the next morning you had to play uninterested flat mate as they stumbled out of his room and headed off for the day. At first it was just annoying but the more time that you spent with Lucien between all of this you started to fall for him yourself.

Lucien was a sweet guy, he made dinner all the time and brought home things that you mentioned wanting in passing, he was relatively clean and 90% of the time you were laughing about something stupid or watching some show that someone had recommended for you. You never said anything because you wouldn’t admit that those feelings were even there.

So one morning when you were sitting in the kitchen a conflict you didn’t even know was arising boiled over, you were reading something on your phone while shovelling food into your mouth. “So you're the flat mate?” She asked. “Hi.” You greeted her without taking your eyes off of your phone. “I always wondered why he never tried to set up some friends with benefits scenario with you.” She shrugged as she walked over to the fridge you assumed, looking for something to eat. “You're not appealing in the slightest.” “You're pleasant aren’t you.” You mumbled as you finished what you were eating and put the bowl in the sink. “Clean up after yourself will you.” You muttered as you walked out of the kitchen, she grunted, obviously wanting a different reaction. You didn’t notice Lucien and neither did she well, not until he told her to get dressed and get out.

The next couple of days he noticed a change in you, you were more distant then you had been since you moved in, you wait until late into the night to actually go and eat, you’d not come out of your room until you heard his date of the night leave, unless you had to go work and sometimes he’d just get a simple text telling him that you were staying at your friends place. It only took a few more days before he decided to confront you, he waited in the kitchen until you came out to get food “Oh what are you doing here, no one night stand tonight?” You asked as you looked in the fridge picking out the leftovers from the previous day's meal. “Actually I wanted to talk to you about something.” He answered. “Oh what?” You asked. “Well, you’ve been avoiding me for the past few days, have I done something to upset you?” He asked. “I’m not avoiding you, our schedules just haven’t lined up, you're reading too much into this.” You waved him off putting your food in the microwave. “Right of course.” He stood from where he was sitting and walked over to you caging you against the counter. “Now say that like you mean it.” “Lucien.” You frowned “what are you doing?” “Trying to figure out why the person I’d call my best friend suddenly wants nothing to do with me.” He answered. “It’s nothing, don't worry about it.” You tried to move away from him but he didn’t let you. “It’s not nothing.” He argued. “What happened? Was it what that other girl said?” “What? No.” You answered. “Then what is it?” He asked. “I’m still just your friend.” You finally answered, you looked at the floor and gripped the countertop too tight, that was the first time that you admitted what was bothering you and you knew that it had ruined everything. You weren’t even hungry anymore, you pushed your way out of the position that you were in attempting to move away from him. “Where are you going?” He asked, grabbing your wrist. “Do you want to hear what I think?” You didn’t say anything but you didn’t move either. “If I knew that you felt this way things might have changed by now.” “What?” You asked, he pulled you back towards him and wrapped an arm around your waist pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “You are so important to me, too important to just have a one night stand with you, if anything ever happened I wanted it to be worth something… I never meant for you to get the wrong idea. Just give me a chance to prove it.” “Prove what?” You asked. “That I love you.” He answered and you looked at him over your shoulder. “One chance.” You agreed. “That’s all I need.” He assured you.

Requests and general question!

[rosesradio]

Poly Portbowell Roommates Prompt Post

In cleaning out my inbox, i saw that my oldests anons (from late 2022, yikes) were all around the same theme, so i thought i would compile them here.

although portbowell was never a popular ship, i feel like now it has pretty much zero attention--it's sad, but i don't see myself writing a longfic for them anytime soon. looking through my drafts i did find a 3k word first chapter to this AU, though it's not finished and i doubt i'll post it

that being said, these prompts/this AU is up for grabs--thank you to anon, and i'm sorry i wasn't able to write the longfic these prompts deserve. if anyone ever does go for this, please tag me so i can see it? thank you <3

1.)

I have an idea for a Portbowell fanfic. Both EJ and Ricky (its up to you if want them to be dating at this point or not) are young adults in their 20s that lived together in a 3-bedroom apartment with Big Red. Then one day Big Red moves out of the apartment for some reason maybe he moves in with his girlfriend Ashlyn. Gina has recently had a bad breakup with Jack and is looking for a new roommate. Gina ends up being EJ and Ricky's new roommate and they make Gina be in charge with cooking.

2.)

Portbowell as a Poly relationship I feel like Gina would be the one that is in charge of doing the cooking because we know that Gina knows how to bake, she most likely knows how to cook too. I feel like EJ and Ricky don't how to cook because they were never taught how to cook growing up so they would force Gina to all the cooking for them. Then one day Gina gets mad at her boys for always making her do the cooking, so she teaches them how to cook one day.

3.)

Roommates AU idea my toxic ex somehow found out I moved in with someone the opposite sex after our breakup. My ex is convinced that I am sleeping with my roommate who is the opposite sex who is just my friend. My toxic finds out my new address and comes over one day my roommate who has never met my ex before but has heard about them gets overprotective over me and pretends that we are dating to get my ex to leave alone who wants me back after they cheated on me by sleeping with other people.

4.)

Roommates AU Person A has a hard time falling asleep because they woke up screaming from a bad dream they had which woke their roommate Person B up. Then Person B comes in Person A's bedroom and tries to calm Person A down by cuddling with them in Person A's bed. They fall asleep in each other's arms by cuddling in bed in a non-sexual way.

5.)

Imagine Portbowell in a poly relationship and their best friends just happen to be in a poly relationship too. Both Big Red and Maddox (I know it was never mentioned that she is EJ’s best friend but we do know that she is EJ’s childhood friend) are dating Ashlyn. Portbowell would go on group dates with their best friends that are in a poly relationship but instead of them all dating each other Big Red and Maddox are dating Ashlyn but they aren’t dating each other they are just good friends.

6.)

About what I was saying about Portbowell being in a poly relationship and their best friends happen to be in a poly relationship that was something I just randomly came up with because I ship both Madlyn and Redlyn. I know it would never happen in the show but it can totally work in fanfics. I can picture Ashlyn having feelings for both Big Red and Maddox and she doesn’t know who to date so she dates both of them but they aren’t dating each other.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

A Taste of Heaven Part 4

A dessert called vanilla slice is mentioned, this is a crazy yummy Australian sweet. If you've never had it, look for a country women's asocation recipe.

Series Masterlist

Part 3

Contains: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

2,223 Words

Comment if you want to be tagged.

After years of study and effort, you finally secure your dream job, as one of the head curators at the best museum in New York. After inheriting a huge brownstone you're looking for a roommate when your best friend Ubbe comes up with a suggestion, his younger brother Hvitserk. Better yet, you're a food historian and he's a three Michelin star chef.

When you got to the museum, there were police cars and fire trucks everywhere and an ambulance at the door. You ran up to the back, Bob the security guard was on a gurney, his head bleeding and his hands wrapped.

"Oh my God what happened?" Bob's face fell, "five men broke in. I tried to fight them off but they hit me over the head. I tried to put out the fires but.." He lifted his bandaged hands. "None of that matters, I'll make sure you keep your job. No matter how much the exhibits are worth, you're worth more."

You walked into your department only to be greeted by a mess of burnt paper and twisted metal. Half the exhibits had been burnt to the ground and the others were smashed to pieces.

A police officer came up to you, her voice was soft but she seemed rushed, "do you have any idea who would have done this?" You were lost for words, "there were protesters here today, try them. When can we start cleaning up?"

She was writing in her notepad, "not for a few days, this place is a crime scene and it needs to be processed." You closed your eyes, willing the vision in front of you to go away.

"My friend has been badly hurt, there are millions of dollars of damage here, and thousands of priceless artefacts ruined. You need a special team to help you or you'll do more damage."

She waved over her partner, "we'll get right on that, once I've taken your statement you can go home."

You gave your statement to an uncaring officer, "so the last thing you said to these people before you left was inflammatory?" You clenched your jaw, "yes, but I'm not the only one who firebombed a public building, quit blaming me and do your job."

You walked away, sitting down at your half-broken desk and called Hvitserk.

"Can you come and pick me up please." Hvitserk could hear the distress in your voice, "I'll be there as soon as I can.

Hvitserk must have sped because he was there in record time. When he got there, you were sitting on the curb, the department having been shut down for crime scene techs.

Seeing him running up to you was the last straw, between all the fundraiser and the new menu, the mess with protests, all the projects and then this, it was too much. Hvitserk was kneeling at your feet and pulling you into his arms

"It's horrible, decades long projects destroyed, irreplaceable artifacts gone and millions of dollars in damage. The money for the fundraiser won't even cover half of it. I'll be lucky if any of us have jobs after this. And Bob, poor Bob, he has a family to feed and he can't work."

Hvitserk hugged you tighter, "we'll sort it out, I'll call my father and he'll get our lawyers onto it. No one's going to lose their job and the department will be rebuilt." You went to interput, "my family is worth almost a hundred million dollars combined y/n, any costs here will be a drop in the ocean."

"But…" He pulled away enough to hold your head in his hands, "no buts, you might as well accept the help now because if you go at this alone you will hurt everyone. You will break Ubbe's heart if you don't let him help you and Ivar will never speak to you again."

You nodded, "ok, can we go home now?" He helped you up, "sure, I put on some chiken soup and run you a bath too, how does that sound?"

"I'd like that."

**********************

Hvitserk cooked while you had a quick shower and then a soak in the bath, you could smell the roast chicken coming through the house. When you came down to the dining room, he was just putting on the finishing touches.

"You feeling better?" You nodded softly, "sort of, I'm so worried about Bob, they said his burn might be third degree, I've known him since I started working there just after college, he wrote me a letter recommending me for the head position." Hvitserk put the bowl down and brought his hands to your face.

"You're in shock, you had to deal with the protesters today and now this. You need food and sleep. Our lawyer will be here tomorrow to make sure the cops don't screw you and the department over and then you can get to cleaning up. We can even hold another fundraiser."

You went to oppose again but Hvitserk wasn't having it. "That's enough, we've been over this." He put the bowl in front of you and sat down, your legs touching.

You picked up a spoon of chicken soup and blew to cool it down, "this is really good." He smiled, "Helga, Floki's wife started up a business that gets home-cooked food to people in need, this is one of her most popular recipes."

"I hope no one thinks I'm taking advantage of you, I had no idea your family was so wealthy." Hvitserk shook his head aggressively, "are you kidding me? After everything you've done for us. Being Ubbe's friend for all those years, getting Ivar into that clinical trial, letting me live here without being asked. We would never think that."

You nodded, "I could never show how grateful I am for all of you." He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pressed himself into you

"You don't have to, we know."

*******************

Hvitserk spent the night in your room, holding you while you slept. But while you got a sleep born from bone-deep exhaustion, he seethed with rage.

He knew how hard you worked, it's all he heard for Ubbe when he talked about you. He knew how much you cared for your colleagues, you were very open about it. There was no way he was going to let it slide.

He managed to get a few hours before you had to wake up and met the lawyers, they were coming to your home along with some of Hvitserk's family. You had just finished your morning coffee when they arrived, "Hello Dr y/n, I'm Harold and this is my brother Halfdan, we're the Lothbroks' lawyer. Can we come in?"

You waved them inside, Ubbe, Bjorn and Aslaug following after, "I'm sorry that this is the first time some of you are seeing our home." Aslaug waved her hand, "there's nothing to fret about, it's happened this way for a reason."

That was cryptic but Hvitserk said his mother had a way of knowing things. "I've already looked over everyone's statements, it looks like an open and shut case of break and enter, arson and felony property damage. Do you know why the protesters were there?"

You nodded, "we just released an exhibit on the foods of early America, needless to say, the honest look at our history offended a lot of people." Harold showed you a photo, "do you know this man?" You nodded, "yeah he's a conservative radio host, he spend a whole week complaining when the museum put on an institute-wide exhibit on the history of prisons in the US."

Harold looked at his brother, "this man may have instigated the incident." You shook your head, "does that mean he has to pay for everything to be fixed?" Harold clapped his hands, "yes and you'll be pleased to know that the museum has also taken us on. We'll be suing him not only on your behalf but on behalf of the security guard who was hurt and the museum."

Ok something was up

"This only happened last night and the museum has its own lawyers, what's going on here? You have more information than typical for the timeline and you already have a suspect. Not even the cops are that far along.

Aslaug smiled, "we never intended to tell you but the large donations you received were from us. Lagertha and I have donated millions the women's history department but that pales in compassion to how much we have given collectively. They have every reason to accept our help."

This was overwhelming, "fucking shit, I applaud you for never telling a soul but I would have liked to have sent you a fruit basket." She laughed, "well you're coming to dinner on Saturday so if you bring one of your cakes that's all the thanks we need."

******************************

Saturday morning came and you got up early to start baking, "how's Bob?" Hvitserk came behind you, wrapping his arms around your body, "much much better, he should be back at work in two months." Hvitserk put his chin on your shoulder, "thank the Gods. What are you going to bake?" You were chopping the butter for the puff pastry.

"Vanilla slice, I learned the recipe when I went to Australia to learn about bush tucker which is part of the diet of first nation Australians." Hvitserk reached past you and swiped a bit of custard off the spoon.

"Shit this is good." You giggled, "wait till I add the pasty and the passion fruit icing, it will blow your mind." Hvitserk turned his head, pressing kisses to your neck.

"Really, I've thought we should do an international dessert menu. Is it a grandma's recipe or a supermarket thing?" You could feel how warm his skin was, "grandma, all the way. The woman who taught me got the passion fruit from here backyard, it grows over there like a weed."

Hvitserk was pretty insistent that the only dishes served came from people's homes. One of his hands rubbed your hip, "I swear woman, you are a wellspring of information." The hand on your hip moved to lift your shirt, "can the cooking wait?"

You shook your head, "Vitty, I'm making butter puff, you know it can't." He lips grazed your ear, "put the dough in the fridge and get back to it later, I've done it a million times before."

You giggled, "I need to get this done, if I stop now, I can't guarantee you'll be able to leave the bedroom." His eyebrows went up, "oh really, is there something you had in mind?" You turned, kissing him on the lips, "so so much, but we need to have a conversation about some things before it gets there." Hvitserk nodded, "I'd like that."

You gave him one last kiss, "great, now I need to get back to cooking, I promised your mum."

*********

"Oh hello, it's so good to see you again." Ragnar wrapped you in his embrace, "the pleasure is all mine, I can't thank you enough for all your help." He waved his hand, "nonsense, you have been a faithful friend to my sons, we should be thanking you."

Lagertha appeared behind her husband and took the slice from your arms, "fridge?" You nodded, "please, it's meant to be served cold."

The dinner was lovely. Everyone helped with the cooking and the table was full of food when you were ready to sit down and eat. "I wish parents taught their kids like you guys did, running tours for boys highschool is like pulling teeth."

Lagertha laughed, "I can imagine, what's the most ridiculous question you've been asked?" You could recall so many, "how do you tell the difference between salt and sugar. He didn't even think about tasting it." Ivar shook his head, "the idiocy must get frustrating."

"Not really, kids ask silly questions all the time, and I don't really believe in stupid questions. It's the adults that get to me." Bjorn nodded in agreement, "yeah, adults always say the most stupid thing when I teach the survival classes."

You shook your head, "I'll just bet, what the worst question you've been ask?" Bjorn screwed up his face with an unpleasant memory, "a whole lot of poop and sex questions." You cringed, "oh gross, but I will say there's a lot of sex questions at work too."

Hvitserk's face was just a little pink, "any questions about how to poison someone?" Of course Ivar would ask that, "hell yeah, I passed two people on to the police because I suspected they were planning on killing someone, I was right both times."

Their eyes went wide, "shit, reminded me never to piss you off." You laughed, "don't worry Siggy, I'd never adulterate food, it's your drinks you'd have to watch."

The rest of the night went on much the same, each of you sharing silly stories about work and the people you had met along the way. By the time you had to go home, you were yawning every few minutes.

"Thank you so much for having me." They all gave you warm smiles, "we're glad you could come. We expect you to be here the same time next week."

Hvitserk drove home, when you got in you were ready to sleep. "you want me to spend the night with you again?" You nodded, you had been sharing a bed since the break in. "yes please, no funny business."

He smiled, "never, we have to talk about it before hand anyway." You pressed a kiss to your lips.

"How about in the morning?" He nodded, "great."

Part 5

Tag list:@kelly1buck2ats @sapphicmal @profoundtyrantharmony @malevolentmagnificence @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @istorkyou

This feels like a nothing chapter, I would love your feedback.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

So, I’m housesitting for some lesbians. They’re friends with one of my mother’s friends, and they both just retired so they’re going on a three-month vacation. Earlier in the summer they were looking for someone to look after their house and cats while they’re away. I said yes, because at the time, it looked like I might lose the lease on my own place, and I figured, I’d rather move in here than have to move in with my parents while finding somewhere new to actually live.

Then things worked out with my place, which I was really excited about, because I really love that house, and I love having my room and my space with all my stuff, and I love the location. And at the moment that location has bigger implications for my life, because I’ve been working on having more of a life in general again, seeing friends more and coaching and going out to see comedy and music. Did that this summer. Felt good about it, after isolating myself so much in the last few years (initially isolating myself at the direction of the government, but also remaining isolated for much longer than the government told us to). That place is right downtown, near everything. I knew that if I lost that place, I’d end up living with my parents in the suburbs until I find somewhere else, and even once I did the place would be in some shitty location because nowhere else downtown is affordable, and I knew I’d end up not doing anything again. Not seeing friends or doing sports or going anywhere. Not when I had to bus across the city for it.

But it worked out! That’s a whole other story, it’s been back and forth and up and down all summer, it’s been a fucking nightmare, I’ve been incredibly anxious and stressed about it for months, but finally, finally, it worked out. Just last week I signed a lease that says I can stay there pretty much until I decide to leave. And my best friend is moving into the other bedroom, which was previously occupied by my roommate, whom I found annoying while I lived with him but now fucking hate because he’s the reason I almost got kicked out of the place, it’s a long and complicated story. Anyway, the point is that I get to stay there! And things are even better than before, living with the guy I want to spend lots of time with anyway, instead of someone who annoys me. I’ve lived with this friend off and on since we were 19.

So it was perfect. Except that I’d already agreed to spend September 5-December 1 living in this other house, an agreement I made when I thought I might otherwise might not have anywhere to go during those months. If I’d known I’d get to keep my own place, I wouldn’t have signed on to this. I’d have stayed there and hung out with my friend and enjoyed knowing it’s mine (I mean, I’m still renting, it’s not great when getting upgraded to “proper tenant who can’t just be kicked out at the whim of my roommate – even though the place is still owned by the landlord”) is a massive step up in terms of agency in my life. But it does feel pretty good.

Having said that – this is pretty fucking good. It is way out in the suburbs, it’s a long bus ride downtown to actually do stuff. But it’s a half-hour walk to my work, while my own place is just over an hour on the bus from my work, so that’s convenient. Also, these people are fucking cool and so is their house.

I never met them before this summer, when I came over here so they could show me around the place before having me live in it for three months. But my mother told me they were the first people in our city to get gay married after gay marriage was legalized, so that’s cool.

Before meeting them, I thought, don’t mention the gay marriage thing. That’s the only thing I know about them, and I think it’s cool as fuck, but they’re just two women in their sixties who’ve been married since 2003 and together quite a bit longer than that, they’re going on a retirement trip, the fact that they’re gay wedding pioneers is just their past, it isn’t still some novelty. Don’t make a big deal out of it.

Then I arrived at their house, and was greeted by a rainbow welcome mat. Went inside. There’s a rainbow magnet on the fridge, next to a photo from their wedding, and a clipping from the local newspaper in 2003, about the fact that they’d just become the first gay couple in the city to get married. When showing me around the backyard, she pointed out the gazebo, and said, “We call it the gay-zebo.” So, I think I have permission to view them as inspirational pioneers for gay women everywhere. They seem okay with their status as that being acknowledged.

And for anyone who needs a little inspiration, the first gay couple in our city to get married has done fucking well for themselves. Like… ridiculously well. The house looks quite nice from the outside, nice suburban thing, but it doesn’t scream “incredibly rich”. Until you see the massive backyard, with the pool and hot tub and gazebo with lights and an outdoor fireplace and a huge amount of secluded space. Basement with a treadmill and stationary bike and other gym equipment. I’ve paid quite a bit of money for access to a hot tub and treadmill, shared with other people in a public facility. While living here, I have both those things in a house to myself for no money.

Also, you know, cats. Cats are fucking awesome. There are two of them here, and I love living with cats. This is the perfect situation. I don’t own a cat, because 1) I can’t afford it, and 2) pre-pandemic I was traveling almost every weekend to coach tournaments, last year I resumed some of the traveling, I do plan to be back on the regular traveling schedule as I get back into life. Cats aren’t like dogs, you can leave them alone for a day or so. But I can’t put myself in a position where every time I go away for more than one night, I need to get a catsitter. Because coaching at a competitive level involves going away for more than one night quite regularly.

I used to wonder how other coaches did it. Other people in the province, who are at all the same tournaments I am, and who also had to travel for them, sometimes talk about having pets. But I guess a lot of them are married, so their spouse takes care of the pet when they’re gone. They’re all in failing marriages, of course, since they’re out of town every weekend. Even the ones who aren’t using those travel weekends to cheat on their spouses in hotels with other coaches who are doing the same thing (please note: this is not a thing I know about because I’ve participated, it’s just a thing everyone knows about, but somehow it drags on for years anyway), which isn't all that many of them, are still in failing marriages due to always being away. But still, at least their spouse is there to feed the cat. If you’re going to travel a lot, the downside of being married is that you let someone else base their whole life's happiness and fulfillment on your promise to be there for them and now you're breaking that promise and thereby ruining their life, but the upside is someone to feed your cat. Or kid, for that matter. I definitely don’t understand how literally anyone has a kid, much less someone who travels most weekends for much of the year. But lots of those coaches have kids too.

I’ve never been at a point in life where I am so sure that for the 15-ish years (cat lifespan), I will be fine with being in my house at least once in the morning and once at night when a cat needs feeding, and I’m okay with the fact that if I won’t be, I’ll need to pay someone to do it for me. Even if my life’s at a fairly quiet point, I’ve never been sure enough that it’ll stay that way to think I could commit to 15-ish years of it or else an innocent creature will die. And, you know, that’s a cat. Who the fuck out there is so sure that they’ll be able to be much more present than just home once in the morning and once at night – actually they’ll be present and on-call 24/7 – for at least 18 years but really just forever, and they feel fine making such a strong commitment to that that they can never take back or else an innocent creature dies? Most people, apparently. I’m not that shocked that some people have kids, that the occasional selfless person decides to make that kind of sacrifice. What I don’t understand is why such a large percentage of people do it.

Anyway. What the fuck was I talking about, again? Right, I’m catsitting for lesbians. That was the point of this post. I'm catsitting for some very successful lesbians, and it's the perfect situation, because I get to live with cats for a few months but I don't have to pay for them, and I don't have to commit to caring for them long-term. These women in their sixties who have newspaper clippings on the fridge about their marriage and are off on their retirement trip right now... I have to admit, it's not a bad antidote to a little of my cynicism about marriage. I think these two probably did it right. Their cats are cool.