#i should probably wait until have more than like. three mutuals here but like... i wanna write my girls ;ww;

[sakuaxe]

STARTER CALL! // like this post for a starter from any of my muses. please specify if you have a preference for who you get, but it's not necessary if you don't! and thank you so much <333

[suguann]

I HOPE YOU STAY—GOJO SATORU

✎. he’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. it just sort of slipped out. | wc. 2.8k+

tags. fem!reader, grinding, unprotected sex, oral sex, some mutual pining (it's implied he doesn't know how to talk to reader), there is not a world where gojo isn't rich, fwb to lovers, jealousy, gagging on how very much in love gojo is with reader and she doesn't see it, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]

masterlist

You’re not sure how it all started.

(As how all arrangements like these seem to start.) 

You remember calling Gojo on a night out with your coworkers—one too many cheap vodka cranberries in your system clouding your judgment—just as he left the office for the day, asking if he could pick you up from a shady nightclub downtown. 

(You’d hardly been acquaintances, and there was a long period of time where you’re sure he only tolerated you for Shoko’s sake since she’s the one who dragged you into their group of friends. You’re always the last one he acknowledges in the room, and he seems to clam up when you’re alone together.

You refused to let it get to you. Especially when you only see him a handful of times every other month or so, although less now that you’re around, and you pretend it doesn’t eat at you.)

It’s still a mystery why you called him out of everyone you know—you had to scroll through an endless amount of contacts just to find a message you sent him months ago that he left on read with the express purpose of annoying you—and even more surprising that he answered.

You didn’t know him as well as Shoko, but maybe a secret hidden part of you knew he’d help if you were in a pinch.

“Hello?” 

(He might be the most infuriating human you know, but he has a voice like rich bourbon. 

He’s also stupidly attractive. Beautiful, even, with his straight nose, soft-looking mouth, and thick hair that adorably curls around his ears. However, you’d never say that to his face, for his head would get too big.)

“Do you think you could give me a ride?” It was almost a miracle that your words didn’t slur.

You half expected him to hang up, but then he asked for the address, and several minutes later, he pulled up to the curb in his shiny sports car that probably cost more than everything you own combined and watched you stumble into the soft-leather passenger seat. 

It should be embarrassing how long it took you to buckle your seatbelt, but then you finally got a good look at him and took note of his expensive-looking suit: his tie slightly undone, shiny watch and cuff links glinting under the passing street lights, how his hair looked like he ran one of his bear paws for hands through it several times. 

You think it was the first time you realized he was as tall as he was wide.

The quintessential businessman in a three-piece suit. You understand the appeal now. 

(That je ne sais quoi that makes you want something out of reach. Why your friends from college ask if he’s single when all you see is a man who never takes anything seriously.)

He’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. It just sort of slipped out.

Gojo gave you a look that would have made you giggle if you weren’t serious. “What?”

“I want a kiss,” you told him again.

It was the little once-over he gave you afterward, the way he missed the exit to your street and took the one that led to his, how he kissed you until your knees were wobbly and weak, and you could barely walk to his door in your heels as he pressed small ones around your mouth while his fingers sunk into your hair.

(That. That—)

You came against his thigh—staining his Burberry suit while he whispered dirty things into your ear—right there in the hallway where anybody could see if he didn’t have the whole floor to himself.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned into your mouth once he had you in his room, his hands trailing up and down your sides until he found the zipper for your dress and tugged. "I can't believe this is really happening."

(Later, you spend a lot of time analyzing what he meant.)

You urged him toward the bed when he had the black slip of fabric pooling at your feet, dropping down to your knees in front of him, and together, you scrabbled at his pants, shoving them around his hips. You’ll never forget how hot and heavy he was in your hand that first time, how your fingers barely touched and looked so small in comparison.

There was a thick vein along the underside of his cock, and you trailed it with your tongue, going up and up until you took the slightly purpling head into your open mouth.

You kept taking more of him until you couldn’t go any further without gagging, which wasn’t far because he was big—possibly the biggest dick you’ve ever seen outside of porn—and it made you a little dizzy how quickly it robbed you of air. 

“Holy shit.” He stroked your hair so softly, so sweetly, groaned things that made you preen and nuzzle into his touch. “You’re so good at this. You gonna let me cum down that throat?”

That made your belly flip—the fact that Gojo Satoru, of all people, called you good—a stone creating a current of new possibilities.

You hummed a muffled “Uh huh” and squeaked when he held your head down—the coarse hair at his pubic bone brushing against your nose—cumming down your throat in hot, heavy spurts, and you’re surprised you swallowed it all because it was a lot.

He fell back against the mattress, freeing you of his grip, arms spread wide and panting as he lay there with his eyes closed.

“Was it good?” you asked, licking away the small amount of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth.

That got him to pop his head up to look at you, a hint of something too soft on his face than you were used to from him. “Come here,” and he let you crawl into his lap.

A sigh escaped his lips as his hands hovered close to the side of your waist before letting them fall back against the mattress. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he mumbled after kissing your forehead.

(That’s how you think it started.)

~~~~~

Everything’s fine.

Perfectly fine before Gojo sits by you, casually planting himself between you and the newest member of your group of friends, Nanami. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being, refusing to react to his blatant jealousy.

Then he inconspicuously rests his hand on your knee. You jump at first, and the few people sitting at the table with you glance at you curiously, including Gojo, who gives you a mischievous little smirk that can only mean trouble. 

Again, you roll your eyes and choose to ignore whatever is going on in that lizard brain of his.

That doesn’t last long because he’s leaning across you to grab a handful of pretzels, only to lean in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he sinks back into his seat.

“You look so fucking good in this dress right now.” His voice already sounds hoarse, stretched thin—raw with want—and you inconspicuously rub your thighs together under the table. “Are you wearing what I bought you underneath? You’d show me, yeah?”

(Because he buys you things now—perfectly normal for someone you’re sleeping with who’s not your boyfriend, but maybe your friend—and sometimes you playfully call him Daddy when he has your wrists tied above your head with one of his silky ties.

And who cares if a few of your things and a toothbrush have found their way into his place? He lives closer to your job. Nobody can blame you for choosing convenience over a forty-minute ride through the subway.

Normal.)

Distantly, you’re aware that you aren’t alone, and there are several ears within earshot distance, but that doesn’t stop the little gasp that escapes past your lips. 

“Satoru, knock it off.” You glance around the table to make sure no one is paying attention, your tensed shoulders relaxing a little when you find everyone too preoccupied with their own conversations.

Gojo already has acknowledged this, too. 

“I bet you still taste just as sweet as you did this morning. You have no idea how much I want you. It’s making me hard just thinking about it.” At that, you peek down at his lap to find the prominent bulge pressing against his khaki pants. 

“Oh?” voice soft when you finally tear your eyes away from his crotch to meet his heated gaze again.

“Mhm.” 

Oh. 

You can tell that he sees your walls cracking, that it would only take a few sweet words before you finally caved: “You’d let me have another taste, wouldn’t you?”

Your breath hitches because, yes, you would. 

That’s how you find yourself with your thighs parted and one of your legs draped over his.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan threatening to escape while the rough pad of his middle finger presses small circles over the top of your panties. His fingers tease, exploring the slick seam of you and retreating when you start arching your hips up into his touch.

It feels like you can’t breathe—or perhaps you’re too fearful to find out what other noises you’d make if you did—practically choking on the torturous (because that’s what this is) pleasure you’re receiving, and you’re ready to beg. You really are. However, you aren’t prepared to face the mortifying consequences if you happen to open your mouth.

Something that sounds a lot like, please, just waiting on the tip of your tongue.

It feels like every pair of eyes at that small table are on you, but they’re none the wiser to what is currently happening beneath the party-themed tablecloth, still laughing and mingling around the yard as they celebrate Geto’s birthday. 

It’s not as if it’s all that obvious, either. 

Gojo is turned away from you, currently in the middle of a discussion with the birthday boy himself. You have no clue what they were talking about because you’d stopped paying attention a while ago—not that you’d be able to listen if you wanted to with Gojo’s fingers turning every spun cotton candy thought back into melted sugar. 

He traces lightly over the covered seam of your lips before finally slipping under the silky material—his skilled fingers working slippery circles at the apex of your thighs—and the subtle relief forces you to swallow another moan. 

“Satoru,” you warn under your breath, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. But the feel of him patting your sticky, sensitive clit with three fingers cuts off all of your protests, forcing you to sit there and let him play with you.

Heat crawls up your neck as he explores your slick folds, the loud music, and chatter, thankfully hiding the wet sounds produced between your legs. 

He does offer some mercy when he notices the slight quiver in your thighs, how they jump and jump until he stops teasing to press to fingers inside you and grind the heel of his palm into your clit. Your hips start rocking forward against his hand slightly, and you pray nobody notices because the heat spreading through your belly is almost too consuming to stop now, making you dizzy with it. 

Your abs hurt from how hard they clench, and your legs shake, culminating in a slow drop just before you resurface. Gojo can probably feel it—attuned to your body after all these months—and starts moving in a steady rhythm, and—

The breath you’re about to take gets caught in your throat, fingers gripping Gojo’s wrist and the ledge of the table as you tip over the edge. Your legs tremble while you convulse onto his hand, and you have to lean into him to keep from falling out of your chair. 

His fingers bring you back down, slowly, rubbing soothingly against your inner thigh as the fog gradually dissipates from your brain. And what you’d give to hear him call you his good girl at that moment—

“Hey, are you okay?” Shoko asks you from across the table. “You don’t look so good.”

All eyes turn towards you, including the smug little gleam in Gojo’s. 

“Yeah,” you squeak before standing up hastily. You pull Gojo up with you, not caring that it’s the same hand covered in your sticky-wet slick. “I just remembered that I need Sa—Gojo’s help with something.”

Only a few are dumb enough to believe that lie, and you avoid the smirk Shoko gives you as she watches you practically drag Gojo toward the house.

(Because, of course, she knows.

And perhaps she’s not the only one.)

~~~~~

The tipping point in your relationship—the one that turns it from a maybe into a definite something, and not just two people who have been having sex and somewhat living together for six months—happens on a night Gojo comes home late from work. 

(Exactly five minutes to eleven.)

You’re not usually the jealous type, but you’ll admit that dating someone like Gojo—rich, attractive, owns more Tom Ford suits than you have jeans, and just important enough that he has an assistant who runs said suits to the dry cleaners—can stir up some insecurities.

A more reasonable person would lay out the facts like a deck of cards: you know he’s someone’s boss’s boss, so he likely had to stay behind to fix someone else’s mess, but the proverbial chip onto the poker table comes with his new assistant. 

Hinata.

A girl who’s fresh out of college and around him more hours of the day than you see him during the week, and from the few times you stopped by his office, you can tell she has a thing for him—her lack of subtlety could compete with Gojo’s nonexistent observation skills.

Much later, after you’ve slept on the softest sheets you’ve ever laid on, you’ll admit you overreacted. How you shouldn’t have thrown blankets and pillows at him from his bed for him to sleep on the couch with as soon as he walked through the front door—not to mention how you never give him a chance to explain himself and keep huffing whenever he opened his mouth.

After the second pillow (almost comically, if you weren’t so upset) hits him square in the face, he drops the blankets to grab your wrists.

“Would you stop throwing blankets at me and tell me what’s wrong?”

"Like you don't know," you hiss unhelpfully just to be difficult.

"I wouldn't be asking if I did." This time, his voice is softer when he says, "Talk to me."

"It’s your assistant."

He frowns. “My assistant…?”

“Yes, your assistant,” you huff, making an unsuccessful attempt to yank your wrists free. “She obviously has a thing for you, but you’re too thick to notice. You forgot your phone, and she answered and said you were busy...”

He probably sees the vulnerability on your face. Hears what you’re not telling him because he presses a kiss to your forehead—I’m not seeing anyone other than you—another to your mouth before he’s showing you with your thighs pressed to your chest that every piece of him (even the parts he doesn’t show to anyone else) is yours.

“You want me to send this video to her to let her know you’re the only girl I want to fuck?” he grunts, making sure his phone captures the way his cock pushes in and out of you, hissing dirtier things that only you hear—the tightest pussy he’s ever had. “Would you like that?”

“Y-yes,” you whine, fingernails digging into his hand wrapped around your throat. “Please, Toru. I want it.” 

“So fucking dirty,” he growls, even though he’d do it for you anyway.

He stuffs his cock into you over and over again until you’re a twitching mess underneath him, the walls of your cunt clenching down around him as you cum with a squeak.

“There you go,” he groans into your ear, tossing his phone to the side to pin you against the mattress so he can reach that tender spot deep inside you that made you cum so hard once your foot cramped, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Is that what you needed? To make you cum because you’re mine? Fuck, baby—I’ll never get tired of this perfect little cunt.”

“Better not,” you whimper, eyelashes wet, squirming beneath him as he fucks you hard into the soft sheets.

“Never, sweetheart, never.” Gojo’s thrusts turn rough and brutal, almost working you into overstimulation just to prove a point. "You're my girl. The only one for me."

It's not quite an 'I love you,' but it's close.

Afterward, he pulls you between the sheets, holds you close with a hand cupping the back of your head, and asks you to stay.

“For good this time. No more leaving in the morning,” he whispers, lips grazing your cheek. “You like the walk-in closet and the clawfoot tub. We have enough room to turn the spare bedroom into an office for you because you like how sunny it gets in there during the day.”

It’s not a question, but you still say ‘I do’ because you really like how the word we sounds coming from him.

“Then…stay.”

…You say yes because it’s not as if you want to be anywhere else.

[hannieehaee]

18 + / mdi

content: boyfriend!mingyu & bf'sbestfriend!wonwoo, smut, afab reader, cucking (idk if this is the right term honestly), penetrative sex, mentions of oral, pov switches to wonwoo's pov like three paragraphs in, this is mostly wonwoo x reader ngl, etc.

part 2

wc: 3343

a/n: this is a continuation to mingyu's part of this reaction !!

masterlist

you'd known wonwoo for a good while now. being mingyu's girlfriend for over a year, you'd grown used to the company of his roommate, who was usually around whenever you'd go visit mingyu at their shared apartment.

it was easy to get along with wonwoo. he was an easy-going guy and also easy on the eyes, and just overall likable. you liked to think that the feeling was mutual, wanting to get along well with mingyu's best friend. you'd occasionally hang out one on one whenever you'd incidentally arrive to mingyu's apartment early, only to be let in by wonwoo. he was a gentleman, so he'd entertain you during mingyu's absence, telling you stories about the boy and at some points discussing shared interests with you.

what you didnt know was that wonwoo did like you. more than you wouldve hoped, actually.

wonwoo had known you for as long as mingyu, having been there when the two of you first met. the three of you had started off as simple acquaintances, up until mingyu decided he just had to have you, thus making you his. wonwoo had been happy for his friend, knowing mingyu to be a hopeless romantic at heart. yes, he admits, he mightve been attracted to you when you first met, but he quickly got over it upon finding out his best friend had a crush on you, even encouraging him to ask you out. having you in his immediate life proved to be interesting. it turned out that you two had a lot in common, with your personalities even aligning perfectly. that mightve explained why he was mingyu's best friend and you his best friend's girlfriend. mingyu clearly had a type.

over time, as wonwoo got to know you better, his long-gone crush seemed to want to make a comeback. what had previously been just physical attraction had turned into something more upon getting to know you. nothing ever happened to trigger his feelings, but there was only so much of your constant proximity that he could handle before his feelings resurfaced. which is where he now found himself. crushing on his best friend's pretty girlfriend, forced to occasionally join in on your dates as the perpetual third wheel.

despite any of his unreasonable emotions, he knew the feeling was not mutual, and more than that, he would never do that to his best friend. so, he did what any reasonable person would do and shoved his feelings deep within him, internally slapping himself any time his head went places it shouldn't. but that could only last so long.

it was a regular day. wonwoo had gone to the company, done his usual idol business and come back, now awaiting mingyu's arrival. except wonwoo was met with your presence instead. wonwoo had been expecting mingyu, remembering that he had told the boy about a movie they should watch together as soon as they had some extra down time. that day being today, now that they were finally back from promotions in japan and could go back to their regular schedules. he opened the door after hearing a few knocks, assuming mingyu mightve misplaced his keys again. except he was not met with his six foot tall friend upon opening the door, but instead you. it had been a while since he'd seen you. hell, it had probably been a while since mingyu had seen you. theyd just been so busy lately. he let you in, muttering a quick 'hello', avoiding eye contact a bit and stepping aside to allow you in. before he could close the door back up, you stopped him.

"oh, wait. gyu's coming up. he got us food for the movie!"

oh. had mingyu asked you to join?

his face mustve told on him, since you spoke up again almost immediately.

"is it okay im here? i can go, i know you guys are tired, i-"

the last thing he wanted you to feel was unwelcome. his stupid crush shouldnt get in the way of what was now a friendship between the two of you.

"no! stay, please. do you guys want privacy? we just came back, you must wa-"

this time you interrupted him. "no, not at all! stay, please. i love hanging out with you, nonu, you know that."

calling him by a cute nickname was not helping this for wonwoo, nor was the pretty smile you were throwing him. but he'd have to sit through an entire movie night like this, he realized.

the following thirty or so minutes went the way you'd imagine. mingyu had arrived soon after, with way too much food for three people and prepared the perfect setting for an enjoyable night between the three. wonwoo could tell his friend was beaming at the thought of finally spending a relaxing night with his two favorite people. this made him feel guilty, but he had to admit, he felt the same giddyness at the concept. in logical fashion, you and mingyu sat next to each other, slightly cuddled up while wonwoo sat on the smaller couch right next to the two of you. the three of you watched the movie for a little while, only ever speaking up every once in a while to comment on the movie. things went like this until mingyu suddenly spoke up, clapping his hands as if he suddenly remembered something.

"won! i almost forgot!", he paused the movie, sitting up from leaning against you, "i told y/n id show her the pictures we took in japan, come here!", his friend seemed so overly excited at the idea, almost vibrating as be waited for wonwoo to come sit next to him.

wonwoo made the mistake of moving his eyes a little to the left while looking at his friend, only to catch your expectant gaze as you also waited for him to close the distance. but it was enough to get him to get up and take a close seat next to mingyu, making the tall man the only separation between you and him.

mingyu had already pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery and stopping every few seconds to explain where the picture was, who took it and why they had edited it the way they did. he explained every minor detail while you looked at him, full attention on him. wonwoo liked that about you. it was something you did when speaking to him too. you'd always show full interest, even sharing a passion for photography and editing as he did. there had been occasions in which wonwoo himself had shown you his photography, only to be always met with praise and genuine curiosity at his skill.

they both explained the pictures, with mingyu holding the phone at an angle where both you and wonwoo could see the screen perfectly. mingyu had full control of the phone, not thinking much as he stopped by every single picture and made a few comments, allowing space each time for wonwoo's own commentary and your praise of their skills. it was a heartwarming moment for wonwoo, really. until it turned into a moment that warmed something else in him.

mingyu, in his overexcited state, was clearly not thinking much of it as he swiped picture after picture, not realizing that if he scrolled too far, he'd end up where he was now.

it was a picture of you. a very pretty picture, if wonwoo had anything to say about it. you were laying in what he could only assume to be mingyu's bed, shirt off and very very cute sheer panties covering your lower half. your face wasnt in it, only your lips. but your body was practically on full display. wonwoo had to commend you for your artistic eye. that picture could cause any man to swim across the pacific ocean just to see the contents of it in the flesh. or at least thats how wonwoo felt in that moment. time felt frozen as he stared at the image. silence had filled the room as none of you reacted. until mingyu finally unfroze, locking his phone and throwing it on the table, cursing loudly at his mistake. but the damage had been done.

wonwoo felt ashamed at his current state. he couldnt look up, only staring down at his lap as he thought of the image that was now imprinted in mind. why did he have to see that? his crush on you was already getting out of hand. there was no way be could ever look you in the eye again. but his brain, once more, betrayed him. he looked up slowly, instantly meeting your gaze. you looked as flustered as he felt, eyes widened and cheeks flushed. fuck. your face reminded him of one he had seem before. a few months back when he'd accidentally bumped into you after what he couldve only assumed to be a night well-spent with his best friend, same flushed cheeks and widened eyes, except this time you were missing the disheveled look you had carried that time.

you and wonwoo seemed unable to break eye contact, with both your gazes becoming heavier by the second. what had felt to wonwoo like minutes of agony staring into your eyes were only a few seconds to mingyu, who immediately spoke up after having thrown his phone on the table.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry, i-" he had turned his body towards you, emphasizing how badly he felt at the position he put you under, but your eyes hadnt left wonwoo's, nor had his left yours.

you interrupted him, only breaking eye contact with wonwoo for a few seconds. "it's okay, gyu," your eyes now facing wonwoo again, "right, nonu?", your voice was sultry, only tightening up his pants even more than the initial shock of the image had.

"y-yeah."

mingyu seemed to catch on quickly after that, almost as if he'd been expecting this. he turned to his friend, still not 100% certain, "wonwoo. are you sure?"

there had been nothing wonwoo had ever been more sure about it. he broke eye contact with you for the first time in the past minute and responded, "yes."

~

"there's gonna be rules, okay?"

the three of you were now in mingyu's (and practically your) room, still fully clothed but all on the bed, already completely out of breath from the mere thought of what was about to happen. wonwoo felt like an animal. he felt himself have to put physical effort into holding back from jumping you. the way you'd been looking at him for the past while had him going insane, knowing now that the feeling was mutual.

"what are the rules?", wonwoo's eyes were still on you.

"any-" mingyu was about to speak when you interrupted him, still holding onto wonwoo's full attention.

"anything goes, except no marks and you have to be willing to share me. gyu's a bit possessive, right baby?", you stated matter-of-factly, almost in a rehearsed manner.

"wait. you've discussed this before?"

mingyu neared you, beginning to undress you from behind, giving wonwoo the perfect view of your clothing disappearing. 'we have. you're not exactly subtle, hyung.'

what? had you two known about his crush on you this whole time? he was so sure he'd kept it at bay almost expertly. had he just been embarrassing himself this whole time?

"its okay, nonu. we've discussed this. we're okay with it if you are. right, gyu?", you looked over your shoulder at the man who had now removed your shirt and shorts, leaving you in panties and a bra, much to wonwoo's dismay.

"i- are you sure? what does this mean? you-"

"hyung, dont over think it. you want her, dont you? you're my best friend, im willing to share."

well, what kind of fool would argue with that logic?

wonwoo decided to take advantage of the opportunity while it was there, approaching you as mingyu stepped aside, undressing his own self as he watched you and wonwoo.

wonwoo was entirely unsure of himself, not knowing how or where to begin. luckily for him, you seemed to take pity on him, grabbing his arms and placing them on your waist, pulling him closer to you.

"you dont have to be nervous. i want you too," you smiled sweetly at him, lifting his chin so he would look at you.

the proximity made him heat up, almost forgetting his friend, who had now sat down on the bed, perfect angle to watch him and you.

you leaned up slowly, lightly placing your lips on wonwoo's in a sweet peck. wonwoo sighed against your lips at this, letting his shoulders fall from their rigid posture and leaning against you, opening his lips a bit. you took advantage of this, meekly slipping your tongue inside his mouth as he tightened his hands around your waist, allowing his own tongue to play with yours.

kissing you was something he had imagined before; never too vividly out of respect for his best friend, but it was something he had wanted to do, never thinking he'd actually get to.

you and him kissed softly for a while, until you seemed to grow frustrated at the light kisses and began to incite him for more. your kissing became rougher, nibbling at his lower lip and sucking at his tongue, rendering him lightheaded. he moaned against your mouth, beginning to match your pase. he moaned even louder the moment he felt your hands guide his own to your breasts, which were now bare. when had you taken your bra off ..? it didn't matter, really. now he could feel the pebbles on your chest against his palms, pinching at them as you mewled softly into bis mouth. all that could be heard was the smacking of your mouths, along with the soft breaths you kept taking against each other, utterly pleased at the feeling of the softness of the other's lips.

until mingyu interrupted.

suddenly soft moaning could be heard from beside them. wonwoo reluctantly pulled away from you, looking to the side, only to find his best friend with his eyes closed, head thrown back as he had his hand under his boxers, clearly getting off at the sounds of the two of you. you didnt stop kissing wonwoo in the meantime, insistent on licking and biting softly against his neck. the softness of your touches was making wonwoo go insane. he was no longer himself, but more of a shell of what used to be, wanting to give you all control of his pleasure. which he did.

he allowed you to undress him slowly, running your hands slowly up and down his chest, kissing at him every time you uncovered a new bit of skin. you bit and licked at his nipples, making wonwoo discover a sensitive spot he didnt even know about.

he enjoyed your attentiveness, but felt a small tug in the back of his mind at the thought of your boyfriend sitting nearby, simply watching.

"gyu, baby," you finally said after having laid wonwoo down on the bed, sitting on top of him while looking to the side at your boyfriend, "how do you wanna do this?"

wonwoo simply sat there, afraid that if he said anything he'd break the spell. he was willing to take whatever you gave him. he was already addicted to the sight of your bare body on top of him, somehow beating the picture he had seen just twenty minutes ago.

"do whatever you want, baby. have your fun n then ill eat his cum out of you n fill you with mine, sound good?", he slurred, seemingly rubbing at himself at a snail pace in order to savor the sight in front of him.

in any other instance, wonwoo wouldnt have understood why mingyu was getting off at the sight of his best friend and his girlfriend fucking, but it was you. wonwoo would also give anything to see you in the throes of passion from a third person perspective, so he felt no judgement for his friend as he practically tuned him out.

"you heard him, nonu. how do you want me?", you asked sweetly, caressing his skin softly while stopping to rub at his nipples every once in a while.

wonwoo was fucked. he felt the ability to speak leave him completely. he was rendered completely useless, a doll for you to play with however you wanted. but his sight right now was one he wanted to commit to memory, so mustering all his willpower, he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, pressing you closer against him.

"like this, baby. please," that earned a whine from gyu, who was still self-inflicting the most painful pleasure imaginable by edging himself at the sight of you.

he humphed at wonwoo, "no! get a different pet name. shes my baby."

wonwoo chuckled at this, but nodded over at his friend. "fine. like this, princess. yeah?"

you nodded at wonwoo, quickly adjusting yourself so you could easily slip him inside you, but only after being interrupted by mingyu again, reminding you to slip on a condom, "because you were only his to fuck raw."

"gyu, baby. like this? have a good angle? need me to move?"

"no, baby. you're perfect. now bounce on him for me, yeah? wanna see my pretty girl feel good," all his words were slurred, going on almost ten minutes of watching yours and wonwoo's foreplay.

"'kay baby. are you ready, nonu? wanna feel me?", you leaned down to kiss at him again, seemingly loving the feeling of your lips connecting as much as wonwoo did.

he nodded, felling you up as be awaited the upcoming feeling of your warmth wrapping around him.

your descent drove wonwoo insane. he doesnt think he's ever moaned that loudly before, nor does he think he's ever seen a prettier sight than your blissed out face as you felt him fill you up. the contrast of your movements right now compared to your soft touches earlier was laughable. it seemed like something had possessed you, making you bounce and grind on wonwoo at an animalistic pace, moaning incessantly at the feeling of his cock filling you up.

wonwoo was different from you, as his reaction was just pure bliss from the feeling of you, humping upwards with a lack of rhythm; just animalistic instinct to get himself as deep inside you as possible.

mingyu could be heard moaning from the background. you'd occasionally disconnect your eyes from wonwoo's form to make eyes at your boyfriend, giving him even more material for jacking off.

it went on like this until you began to near your end, which is when wonwoo believes he went truly insane. you began to grind at an angle that would bring gratification to your clit, practically crying on his cock. your hands went up to play with your nipples, stimulating yourself as much as possible. wonwoo wanted nothing more than to make you meet your end, grabbing harsher onto your hips and guiding your movements. he leaned up to kiss and suck at your tits, making you throw your head back and quicken your movements even more. you were in heaven and so was he. mingyu seemed to be too, as when wonwoo peeked a look at him he was practically crosseyed at the sight of you, arched back whining on his friend's cock.

your ends found you almost simultaneously. mingyu had been first, finally allowing himself to reach his high after edging himself for so long. soon followed wonwoo, spilling into the condom, causing you to cum at the sight of his pleasure. it took a bit for all of you to catch your breaths, staying silent for a bit until wonwoo broke the silence.

"shit. please tell me this isnt a one time thing."

you and gyu giggled at each other. wonwoo hoped that was a good sign.

a/n: lol lmk if u want a cont. with gyu's part

[causenessus]

love notes

part 0.9. FOR AS LONG AS YOU'LL HAVE ME

"leaving the ones who love you the most won't make things easier, stop trying to be alone, just come home."

from henry by lowertown, left at the nishiki-no-hama beach, osaka

CONTENT WARNINGS: one "i wanna kms" joke, lots of hurt/comfort :)

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° one year ago. the friday night before their first winter break in college. ° ᡣ𐭩 . °

“and you’re sure you’ll be okay alone?” omi’s giving her a look like he doesn’t quite believe her no matter how much she reassures him. and maybe his frequent inquiries are rubbing off on her; now she's unsure of how well she'll handle being alone for two weeks during the busiest time of the year. but even if she’s started to regret her choice, what would she do about it now? trains are booked full, and there’s nowhere for her to return. changing her mind would only make her friends worry, so instead she nods and smiles like she has every time they ask this, promising that she’ll be fine. she can be alone for two weeks.

“don’t be afraid to text us if you need anything, okay?” akaashi adds, brows laced with concern as he fidgets with his suitcase.

“i’ll probably be awake no matter what time you text me. you know that,” kenma finishes. the three of them are heading to the train station together where they’ll go their separate ways from there, but they’re parting and saying their goodbyes to her here, in the doorway of their shared home.

it will be okay. she reminds herself. she's dreamed of being alone throughout her whole adolescence. this was her choice, and she will be content with it.

“got it,” she answers them. “enjoy yourselves, okay? be safe.”

they all give her some kind nod of response before they start down the hallway, and she waves to them until they disappear from sight and she closes the door.

it already feels so quiet. the air is heavy, it feels like it will drown her and swallow her whole. she’s not sure she’s even breathing, despite how open the space is. she’s the only one in the room, there should be plenty off oxygen. yet it feels like there is nothing. there is no one.

when she was young, “home” hadn’t felt like home. people were constantly leaving and never coming back, and even she hadn’t wanted to return. home was supposed to be the place you could always go back to. it was supposed to be a safe, peaceful place. in her mind, home too important of a word to be taught to kids at a young age. it was easy for them to establish it as a house, but home could be a person, too.

she had thought this was her home. this apartment was what she had been dreaming of all her life. but when the people who had occupied it had left without her and she felt empty, she realized that home wasn’t in the place she was returning to every day, it was in the people she saw and talked to every day.

home could be a person–a single person. not all of her friends. her friends were more like what she always thought a family should be; people she had chosen to love and could come to at any time. it was a mutual, symbiotic relationship that required both of their efforts and love. but she had been searching for home– that one person–for years. her one person that she loved more than everyone else, that was so important nothing else even came close to it. when she was young, she had thought her sister was the one. she saw her sister as the most important person in her life, and she thought that her sister had valued her the same way as well. but in the end, even she had left. she had been second best at most to everyone in her life and eventually, she stopped looking for that one person. there was no way to tell whether a person would leave or stay.

but when she saw him standing in the photography department, waiting there just to see her, all of her feelings from their time in high school together came rushing back. her feelings had never even left in the first place, she realized. sure, they had been pushed down for a brief amount of time, but nothing could ever fully get rid of them. it was an indescribable, unignorable pull towards him. every look they shared sent electricity through her veins and she hoped that maybe he felt the same things she did. she hoped that he was the one.

not many places are open on new year's eve, they realize, after spending half an hour in her kitchen searching up places to go.

they decide to walk to the grocery store together instead. they could have taken the train–it’s a little bit of a walk away–but they’re in no rush to get anything done. it’s just them, together, for the whole day. 

the moment he had knocked on her door and she'd opened it, it was like all the air came rushing back into her lungs after she had been suffocating for days. the world seemed brighter and she was thankful for the opportunity to walk outside and admire the quiet world. it hadn't snowed in a few days, but the trees were bare, preparing to withstand the next wave of heavy weather, and the sky above them was a gloomy gray. yet by his side, she couldn't feel happier.

she was extremely aware of the sound of every step they took, their shoes being the only sound against the backdrop of a quiet world, and by the time they’d gotten to the store, it almost felt strange to see other people again.

inside of the store had been nice and warm; a nice contrast to the frigid cold outside. they had picked up ingredients to make pancakes, enjoying the heated building before they stepped back outside, huddling together and shrinking back farther into the fuzzy scarves wrapped snugly around their necks. they took turns holding the plastic bag with their food inside so that the other could have both hands in their coat pockets, warming up their hands before they grabbed the bag. 

they’re walking along a short concrete wall, separating a road and the sidewalk they were on from the sandy beach and ocean when he asks a question, “hey, would you want to come back here later tonight? to watch the fireworks? or we can stay inside. whatever you wanted to do. it’ll probably be pretty cold.”

she wants to tell him she’s up for anything as long as she’s with him, “yeah, we can go back here! and we'll just bring a blanket or something. i’m sure it’ll be fine.”

when they arrive back at their apartment, she’s quick to kick off her boots, making a beeline towards her room to find some clean, dry clothes. she ends up digging through akaashi’s dresser to find something for suna as well (with akaashi's permission, of course. she had tried to ask omi and kenma beforehand but they both said no. akaashi hadn’t cared and felt bad when she complained that they couldn’t tell her to hang out with suna and then not support her).

although he swore up and down that he could be trusted to cook, she’s the more talented of the two and starts on their “breakfast” while he changes his clothes. it's already so late in the day it can't even be considered a late breakfast or brunch anymore, but it's their first meal of the day, nonetheless.

when he walks back into the kitchen, she tries not to stare but she can’t deny how good he looks despite being dressed in only a loose t-shirt and pair of sweats. he leans against the side of the counter, next to her while she’s at the stove, looking at her and refusing to sit down as retaliation for cooking without him.

she decides to make good use of him and assigns him to drink duty if he's just gonna stand there and watch. he digs through their pantry, eventually finding two packets of instant hot chocolate mix, and that’s what they settle for. by the time they sit down, two mugs of steaming hot chocolate and a stack of pancakes between them, they’re a giggling mess again.

“you know, i think most people spend new year's clubbing or getting wasted, but i’m not sure i’d pick that over this,” she laughs, blowing on her mug.

“we can do that later, too,” he responds with a grin, “but you’re right. not many people can say they started today freezing their ass off trying to walk to a store for fun.”

"wait!" she ends up sliding out of her chair, surprising him and he looks at her with raised brows. "before we eat," she adds quickly, "can i grab my camera and take a picture? just to commemorate the moment."

"oh, sure," he replies, running a hand through his hair to try to fix it at the mention of a picture. "do whatever you need to."

the moment had been simple but so important to her. it had made her think back to how she’d felt a week ago. she wanted to trust him, so badly. to completely open up to him, but there was no way to tell if he was going to leave. people could promise all they wanted that they wouldn’t leave, but they could never predict the future; who they might meet, who might change their mind about being with her. she wasn't sure how long more they'd be around each other for; she hoped that there would never be an end to their relationship, but she wanted to save these memories, just in case he did one day leave.

“it’s a little early,” suna says, pulling her out of her thoughts just as they’ve finished up cleaning the messy state they left the kitchen in. she glances at her phone; it’s three in the afternoon, “but did you wanna head out? it’ll take us a bit to get there and the sun will start setting soon, anyway.”

“sure,” she replies, drying her hands off with a towel, “i was gonna take some more pictures when we go there, too, if you didn't mind. so it’ll be nice to have the light.”

“as long as you show them to me,” he replies and she smiles, unsure of what she did to deserve him.

he carries a blanket for them while she has a small bag on her shoulder, holding her camera equipment and a few drinks they stopped at a store to buy.

“is here okay?” he asks, and they’re standing back at the half wall they were originally walking alongside.

“sure,” she nods, putting her bag down to search for her camera. “i want to take a picture of us real quick, just sitting on the wall, facing away from the camera, and then you’re good.”

he gives a hum of acknowledgment, slipping over the side of the pavement and she sets up a small stand and self-timer on her camera, double checking that they’ll be in frame before she comes to sit next to him. she counts down the seconds before he gives him the okay to move and she retrieves her things. when she returns to her spot next to him, they end up sharing the blanket they brought, throwing it over both of their shoulders to keep them warm. they’re sitting close together, but her eyes are fixed on the ocean with her camera in hand while he watches her.

he hears the clicks and sounds of the shutter of her camera ever so often, and he tries to follow the way she angles herself to get the shots she wants. he wants to know what she’s thinking, what stands out to her on the left side of the ocean that she doesn’t see on the right side. is it the sky? something in the water? the way the sand has been smoothed over, reflecting the light of the sun going down?

seeing her with one eye shut, a camera covering most of her face as she looks through the viewfinder has become a common sight for him. he’d often found himself the subject of her work many times, especially throughout their time in high school together. at first, it had surprised him whenever he saw the camera facing him until eventually, he got accustomed to it. he had initially tried to reason that perhaps the camera was just pointed in his direction and that he wasn’t really the one she was taking pictures of, but there was no denying it when he saw himself in local magazines, with credits underneath each picture going to her. 

he wanted to understand her, to know her better than just through what others had said about her. he wanted to know what she found so interesting about him–that could possibly make her want to take a picture of him. the sound of the camera shutter particularly closeby pulls him out of his thoughts and he finds that he's in a familiar situation; once again looking into the lens of her camera, and it takes everything in him to focus on it instead of the face behind it. “you wanna know something?” he finds himself saying, once she's turned away from him again with a laugh.

“what is it?” she asks, lowering her camera down and looking at him, giving him her full attention.

“it’s like i can’t read you,” he continues because he can’t take back his words, and he finds that he doesn’t really want to, anyway.

she tilts her head in response, brows furrowing, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he leans back, looking at the sky as he tries to think about how best to explain himself, “i don’t know. all throughout high school–and even now, i can tell you’re hiding something. but you’ve never talked about it. i don't know what to make it of it but it's like at the same time, sometimes i just see you and feel your heartache. i guess where i'm going with all this is–” his gaze slides towards her, the color of them almost making her dizzy with how mesmerizing they are, “you shouldn’t keep it in forever.”

his words send chills down her spine and she looks at the camera in her hands, fidgeting with it before she decides to grab her bag, putting it away silently.

“sorry,” he immediately apologizes, sitting up straighter, thinking she's packing up to leave. “that might have come off as a little presumptuous or weird. i didn’t mean anything bad about it, or to make you–”

“no, you’re right,” she says before he can finish, putting her bag back to the side. he’s talking about feeling like he can't read her when it’s as if he’s seeing and silencing each one of her thoughts, telling her that she can trust him without even knowing it’s what she needs to hear. “there’s a lot in my head that i wish i could get out, but i just don’t want to bother you guys, you know? it never feels like there's a right moment to talk about things like that. how am i supposed to casually allude to the fact that i'm struggling with something? i don’t want to bring it up and dampen everyone’s moods, and even when we do start talking about deeper things, it just feels like what everyone else is going through is more important.” she ends up looking down at her fingers halfway through her explanation, feeling nervous as she opens herself up to him. 

but he doesn’t push her away. instead, he bumps shoulders with her, garnering her attention again. “what you’re feeling is just as important as what everyone else is feeling. if it’s affecting you, it’s important. and it’ll only hurt more if you push it down. if you want to talk about it, i’ll listen.”

“i don’t where to start,” she admits, picking at the sides of her fingers because she’s not sure what else to do.

“how about start with this,” he says, gently taking one of her hands out of her lap to stop her habit, instead turning her hand over in the palm of his own, playing with her fingers himself, “start with why you’ve been alone in your apartment these past few weeks.”

it was something she’d brought up as a small joke when he’d first come over, as he had been surprised at how quiet and empty the apartment felt without the rest of her roommates. she had agreed, mentioning that she’d felt the same way, being here by herself for days on end. “oh. i just didn’t want to go home–well, i don’t consider it home anymore, or my family my family–that’s a whole story on it’s own. but everyone else left to visit someone. since it's more complicated for me, i thought it’d be better for my head if i didn’t see my family again, which i still think is true, but i ended up just getting lonely anyway without any of you guys here.”

“i don’t think anyone can fault you for that. my family’s cool, i guess, but it’s not the same as being with you guys,” he responds, turning her hand over again, looking at her palm.

she doesn’t respond, unsure of what else to say, and she feels like her throat is closing up, realizing now how close they are together. and if that wasn’t enough, he’s tracing the skin of her palm. he looks up at her with an amused smile, as if he’s reading her thoughts again. “are you gonna turn this into an interview where i ask you everything? you seriously don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. i’m not trying to force you.”

“no, i–” she can’t decide whether to look at her hand in his hand or up at him, and she feels so hot under the blanket they're sharing she wants to push it off, but she knows she’ll regret it the moment she takes off the blanket and the cold air pricks her skin. “i’m fine telling you this stuff, as long as you’re okay with it. i’m just not good at talking about it and i don’t want to say too much.”

“i get it. but you don’t have to worry about saying too much, that’s not even a thing,” he shrugs in response. “i can keep asking you questions if it helps. you said something about your family not being your family anymore, right? what’s that about?”

she pulls at the fabric of her pants with the hand he’s not holding, trying to find some way to fidget and relieve how antsy she’s feeling. “it was something i realized when i was alone by myself. i just think that when you grow up, you start to create your own family, if that makes sense. not strictly in a romantic kind of way, it's just the people you choose to love. and for me, i’ve completely let go of my actual family because they weren’t ever really that to me. as much as they like to say they helped me or whatever, they never supported me or loved me the way i needed it. and i’m my own person now; i feel like i have the right to decide these things for myself now. i get to decide who i want to be around without having to listen to their input.”

“so whose your family now?” he questions, looking up at her from her hand.

“can i ask you something?” she blurts instead, the thought that’s been plaguing her all day finally getting to her. 

“of course,” he answers, waiting for her question. he’s stopped playing with her hand, letting it simply rest on top of his.

“are you here to stay?” she asks. “the other thing– about home not being home. home is something or someone you always come back to, or at least that's how i define it. everyone comes up with their own meaning for things. but either way, i’ve had a lot of people come in and out of my life, and i guess i’m just a little scared that you’re going to leave, too. that you’re all going to leave. it's just been something on my mind these past few weeks i've been alone.”

he blinks at her question, and she’s about to open her mouth to apologize when he responds. “yes,” he says. “i’m here to stay. i promise. for as long as you’ll have me.”

‘well that would be forever,’ she thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud. she has to take a deep breath in, and ends up turning her hand over in his palm again, intertwining their fingers and squeezing his hand lightly.

his response is nothing earth-shattering. really, anyone could say that. people can promise they’re not going to leave, but they don’t know what the future holds.

but for some reason, when he says it–when he promises her he won’t leave, she believes him. and maybe she’s just fallen too hard. maybe love has blinded her, but she prays to god that’s not the case. she hopes that he will stay forever. she’s not sure what that entails for the both of them; whether they'll be friends forever or something more, but she thinks she’ll be okay where they are now. she can push her feelings of this one-sided love to the side for all of eternity. because she figures that will be better than not having him at all.

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

"if you want to see what someone is afraid of losing, look at what they photograph."

not sure i have a lot of extras this time around :) but i had a lot of fun writing this chapter i hope u enjoyed!!

after this it'll return back to present day and be very silly <3

there were a lot of songs i thought could fit with this chapter but i went with my original choice <3

home is a very important concept to me if you couldn't tell!!!

and i'm sure this is also obvious too but this is sort of the story behind the "my wait is you" picture referenced in last chapter :)

the way these chapter titles have also progressively gotten more poetic LMAO i'm sorry for that

taglist: @0moonii @iluvmang @bluebeanbee @wyrcan @oyasumeii @froyaoya @gyuijns @nbcvs @milkteade @eggyrocks @guitarstringed-scars @makkir0ll @mylahrins @cherrypieyourface @vivian-555 @sharkerino @r0seandth0rns @staileykout @lunavixia @thvvluvr @elliott0o0 @wolffmaiden @rockleeisbaeeee @toges-cough-syrup @cnnmairoll @ryeyeyer @hibernatinghamster @localgaytrainwreck @lemonocity @bows4life @sereniteav @madiexuberant @eclecticeggknightpsychic @phoenix-eclipses @sonicsolos @httpakkeiji @brkfclub @snail-squasher @starry-magicshop @cr4yolaas @kitnootkat @zzzlevislothzzz @iluv-ace @iluvaquaphor @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @applepi25 @twiishaa @girlkissersco @sleepystrwbrryy @encrypta

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XV. “mutually-assured destruction”

parts: previous / next

plot: Bruce elicits your help in a desperate bid to validate his sanity, but the both of you reach a permanent standstill.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, arguing, anger, fear, hopelessness

words: 2.6k

a/n: I love when they bicker lmfaooooo, here’s a lil scene for the enemies to lovers crowd 😌

You tried to be subtle with your double-take. His hair was so much darker when it was soaked from rain, and he was nearly unrecognizable in such oversized, bulky clothing. Your eyes wandered to a notebook clutched tightly in his hand. Is it slippery? His knuckles are white.

He pulled you quickly toward him and the gentle spray of what would have been an outfit-ruining tsunami grazed your ankles. As quickly as the car passed he let go and began walking across the street. "Follow me." Too curious for your own good, you followed. Only when you reached three blocks from the hotel did you stop and question the affair. He gave a gruff response to asking where you were headed. "It's only a few more blocks." He continued walking until he realized your footsteps weren't following, and hesitated to peek over his shoulder. Of course you wouldn't follow him. Of course you had to make this difficult. He very nearly pressed on without you out of spite.

He was unrecognizable to you from behind. His wet hair splayed in a haphazard frame around his face, this wasn't what a billionaire looked like. A glimmer of curiosity captured you. Why would a billionaire want to dress himself down like this? It was decidedly less glamorous when he was outside of the suit, and less pathetic than when he wore baggy black clothes to walk around his empty home. You remembered you were in seclusion in downtown Gotham with a rich man, a man so rich he could ruin you without a second thought; and even though you knew his secret, you didn’t know him. He could do anything to me and the world would let him. The possibility alone petrified you and you resigned to stay back.

He picked up on that resolution (though he thought it wasn't self-preservation but resolution to his dissolution) and turned around, glowering at you. He noted that your feet were particularly dug into the gravel, your arms stiff to your sides. The chill of the evening air outside of your lips was the only evidence you weren't a statue. "It's just a few more blocks."

"I heard you." You crossed your arms to protect your chest and you saw his eyes track the movement. Heat rose in your chest. So fucking perceptive. It's like I'm prey.

"Are you coming?"

"No. My parents are expecting me back." He was just a random guy. Your mother was sick, your dad was probably unable to figure out how to work the remote and move from HDMI 1 to HDMI 2. You grit your teeth and he, of course, noted the subtle movement in your jaw.

What are you, twelve? He bit down on his tongue with a sliver of shame. You were just a random woman. Someone who had parents to get back to, parents that were waiting on you, parents who would be concerned if you were back too late, parents to spend time with, parents to see you, to know you...

A story was flashing across his eyes, even in the dark, but you weren't staying to figure it out. "I'm sure Alfred is waiting on you." You spun on your heel but didn't make it two steps before he retorted. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you should spend time with him instead of stalking girls on street corners."

He didn't need you. You didn't know what you were talking about. "Don't act like you know anything about him." He wasn't letting you get out of earshot before defending himself. You don't know a thing about Alfred. A possessiveness snuck into his tone.

You spun around, your hands lazily following until they slapped against your thighs. "I got a good sense of your hospitality while I was there, you're ridiculously antisocial." You emphasized your eyeroll.

He huffed so firmly clouds of warm air obscured his face, making him for a moment a total shadow. "My apologies for not wanting a stranger loitering in my house that just threatened to blackmail me!" His voice had risen, but it wasn't quite enough for you to call him out yet.

You put your hands up in the air, dressing your words in as much syrupy sarcasm as they could hold. "God forbid someone stay in the giant empty mansion of the person hoarding all the city's resources for three days."

He turned around swiftly, menacingly. "I'm doing more for this city than anyone else."

You didn't bother to temper your scoff. It echoed off the wet brick. "Your ego is fucking insane."

He barked back. "What has anyone else done?"

You thought of your father who had so many aches and pains he couldn't count from his endless career work. The farm workers working in nearly inhumane conditions for meager paychecks, paychecks the Wayne family spent in a day even with just one man and a butler, the people putting food on Gotham's table. You thought of all the houseless people you'd walked past on your way here and couldn't help but laugh, but it was filled with so much tension it was painful. "You picked up a voluntary night shift, congrats, what cookie do you want?"

His chest constricted like his ribs had been welded together. "This is ridiculous. I don't know why I thought you'd be any help." He moved to turn but you ensnared him with another biting accusation.

"You are sitting on a mountain of wealth while people rot in the streets."

He rolled his eyes and committed to the full turn of his back to yours. "I'm not talking about this."

You scoffed again, your chest constricting with the beginning of adrenaline. "I made a point that you don't know how to respond to because you can't. And you're just leaving! Some fucking savior!"

God, who did you think you were? He spat the words out on the pavement with his back turned, eyes narrowed to slits. "You came here just to shit on my city and—"

"It is not your city. You are just a rich kid whose parents happened to live here. And you've done nothing besides saving counterfeit checks and people who have no other choice—"

"Oh, not this again." His smugness brought you right back to running to the city hall bathroom. He didn't know how easily he could massacre someone with his tongue. "Some of the people you take so much pride in scaring the shit out of are already scared. I guarantee if you just gave everyone food, shelter,"

"Money doesn't save everything." You. Didn't. Get. It.

"How can you possibly know even a fraction of the value of a single fucking dollar when you have billions in your bank acc—"

"I'm already allocating." He increased the distance between you two.

You snapped at him, seething at his audacity. "Don't you dare interrupt me."

"Money gets you shot dead on the streets." He continued without a care in the world.

"Don't fucking interrupt me."

He turned his head to peek a touch over his shoulder. Your sharpness has rustled him. He wanted to speak up again but your chest was heaving and splotchy red. Your hands were in trembling fists at your side. He averted his gaze and looked over at the wall while you both stood in silence. His heart was racing, but it wasn't showing—blood making a racket in his ears and practically drowning out all sound. He waited, and waited, and waited more, the adrenaline steadying him and giving him clarity. No one had ever been this mad at him outside of the suit... it was weird. It felt like he should be in armor, ready to dodge a punch and land one square in the jaw. He hated the way his eyes lingered on your jaw, nose, and the bottom of your ribcage. An enchantingly strong sensation of shame erupted from it. More combatant than human.

You noted his features softening, and with it yours slowed to simmer. It was impossible not to notice how sad he looked, and that pissed you off. Why do I give a shit what he's feeling? It was like there was a small box sitting in the corner of your chest, a slim panel hidden in the back of your mind. It contained something you couldn't reach. Every time you were around him it began to glow, but it was too hot. It burned your eyes if you ever tried to look right at it. Frustration had created a mist in your mind to try and distract you, convince you he was nothing of importance; Bruce Wayne could go fuck himself. Another part leapt out and tried to tell you, right then, your empathy was pure socialization. It's a woman's job to soothe, after all. Be easy, after all. The world catered to men, and here was the stereotype and living idol to the alpha male archetype. It repulsed you. Your eyes flit down to his journal as it slipped ever so slightly on the pads of his fingers. You squinted. Curiosity. That's what's coming up. You recalled Dr. Vry on the first day of your first journalism class. She'd opened the class with a speech.

You are all here because you were curious. Curious about this class, curious about writing, and curious about interviewing. I want you to hone in on that feeling; if you have a curiosity about something, anything, anyone, this unintelligible itch to figure it out, it's the sign of a story. A truth needs to be witnessed that you might be the only one capable of seeing. A truth you need to share with the world.

His eyes were the story; it elicited such a feeling of curiosity, his eyes. They were angry, and dark, and sad, and in a position unique to one in 8 billion. You were curious. You were curious about Bruce Wayne, and you hated him. You hated his clothes, his voice, his face, his gait, his position, his quiet arrogance. It clashed so hard with the embers of sympathy for his emotional darkness you felt you could burst. Still, you weren't about to follow him into the black abyss. "Why do you need to talk to me?"

Bruce's reaction didn't quite help you feel safe; he bristled at the question. There was something he wasn't telling you, that was obvious enough, but he refused to give any of it away. "I can't talk about it right here."

"I don't trust you."

He sighed. It made sense, as much as he hated to admit it. He wouldn't follow just anyone out into the corners of Gotham at night either. He shrugged over at you, opening his arms to flap them back down. "Want to check for weapons again?"

Again. You'd been genuinely petrified back in his basement; up until Alfred had arrived, you were certain you would have been meat to string along the ceiling for the bats to feed off of. It still didn't feel quite right, and you didn't feel quite safe, but you felt safer. Safe enough to not be agreeable, safe enough to not run away the second you saw him, but not safe enough to revoke suspicion. The thing on top of your mind now, taking up so much space it hurt, was hypervigilance. Every movement of his hand, his eyes, even the rhythm of his breathing was being tracked and gauged. You didn't know why this question came up, but it fell out of your mouth when it opened. "Do you really trust I won't tell anyone?"

Damn. He didn't, in truth. He'd said so back at the airport because it hadn't fully sunk in that someone knew. Now that he'd had to begin constructing this new persona, now that he had realized how someone could see past it, he was terrified. Almost imperceptibly he shook his head. "No."

It made you a bit afraid hearing that, not that him saying yes would've made you believe him. How could he trust you? If the roles were reversed, you wouldn't. "I don't trust that you won't hurt me."

"How can I convince you?"

Before you could answer your phone buzzed. It was your dad.

"Hey hun, everything good down there?" He sounded like he was munching on the hideously expensive bag of chips that had been provided by hospitality. You nodded before realizing he couldn't see you and your cheeks burned with heat at Bruce having seen it. "Yeah, I just got caught up."

"Caught up? Is that code for something? Do you need me to come down there?"

You glanced over at Bruce who was staring down at his shoes. He slowly looked up at you and lingered in eye contact briefly before looking down to kick at a pebble. Bruce Wayne kicking pebbles on the sidewalk. Get the paparazzi over here. "It's fine, dad. I'll be back in a few minutes."

He didn't miss a beat before a small shuffling and you heard him whisper. "She must have met up with that Wayne guy. Probably doesn't want to tell me." He came back to the line and you thanked god your speaker was off. "No it's, I'll be back soon. Bye." You hung up even though you could tell he didn't quite buy it, which made you have to hurry your exit even more. You plunged your phone in your pocket, avoiding eye contact. You answered him. "You can't convince me."

You both stood there in total silence, not even a car driving in background noise. Finally an ambulance mauled past and he let out a deep sigh. "How do we level the playing field?"

You shrugged, your mouth drying up. You rolled your eyes and sighed out some tension. "Mutually assured destruction, I guess." You didn't particularly like that, the threat of violence from him ever-present in your mind. He didn't like that either, in fact, he felt like he could vomit the second you said that. "I won't hurt you."

"I don't believe it."

"We're at a standstill, then." He straightened his back. "You could say we're even." God, it made him ill that he saw no route to convince you. Another reminder of his status, another reminder of how inhuman he was. You probably looked at him like his veins were thick with gold. He felt the need to give you another reminder, not wanting to hide behind the cloak of assumed violence for another second. "Even if you wrote that, I wouldn't hurt you."

Playing the nice guy, huh? You crossed your arms and shook your head vigorously, the cold chill starting to get to you. You needed to get home and couldn't have this conversation much longer. "You can't convince me, you just can't."

You still felt a twist in your stomach at how much privilege he didn't even realize he held, so much wasted opportunity and ignorance, but you nodded. How could you explain to someone that was born into it how much power he held? Was he actually ignorant of it, or did he just want people to think he was so they would get comfortable and let their guard down for him to strike? It still felt uneven, massively so, but you reassured yourself that you would be out of his reach soon enough. Your parents were waiting, your mom was sick, and you'd be gone in the morning for good. You spun around on your heel without a look back and sped on back to the hotel. Bruce glanced down at the journal that was nearly melted into a puddle in his hand and groaned. Whatever. Mutually-assured destruction.

[agendabymooner]

colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (4)

Summary:  Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: Can you actually fall in love fast? or is Tilly just fortunate enough to catch Toto's attention and gain his respect and determination in span of a day? As of this point, she might as well host a slumber party as Daniel and Lewis continue to pester her with the most important topics of her life right now: her family and the hypothetical ones she'd make with Toto.

Content warning: Age gap, brief use of explicit language, discusses the 2014 austrian gp, flirtatious banter, mutual pining kind of romance, platonic relationship with Lewis Hamilton and Daniel Ricciardo, fictional family and business involved (Hearth family and Hearth Automotives Group). NO PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS INVOLVED SORRY

Note: Thank you all so much for the 50 followers! I honestly have been writing these just because I didn't have anything occupy my time and it's a good idea that I posted them up here. knowing that you're enjoying my brain's ideas, it fuels me even more into writing. As of this point I'm currently writing a spin-off for Rush and this series so keep an eye out, I suppose. I hope you all enjoyed today's race because I certainly did (Albon was way too fucking good this weekend, I shit you not). And I hope Alonso's 2nd place makes up for the Father's Day that I'll never get to spend with him. Enjoy xx

masterlist

iv. fast lane but not the race weekend kind

“Regards,

Tilly Marie F. Hearth…”

That should be okay, I tell myself silently as I put away my laptop. It’s only 6 pm, and I already wish to retire to my bed early. 

I can be doing a lot, but instead I’m moping inside my hotel room while I’m waiting for Lewis. Being on a paid vacation is nice; I don’t have to do anything and deal with people. But at the same time, I’m craving more tasks to occupy my time because truthfully, I do NOT want to be stuck in a hotel in Silverstone with nothing to do. I spent my early 20’s being away from people, but now I’m entering my early 30’s, I’m slowly thinking that I probably should’ve done more than attend festivals by myself or with my sisters.

None of the people I was around with earlier had looked my way until after they'd been told that I was working in communications and was a boss’ child. The staff from the other teams also did the same—but some of them knew who I was already and had already made themselves comfortable. Just how I wanted.

But then again, this is my first day. And Sunday would probably be my last considering that I’ll be back to my stuffy office the next week. 

I can take up the role as a consultant for communications. My father did offer me that role for Ferrari, Red Bull and McLaren—telling me that I can do so much more in Formula One than my no-good employers. 

Bunch of bullshit, I curse out. He wouldn’t let go of his legacy like that. 

I already told him about writing for magazines or simply writing in general, but he still placed these executive positions in front of me as if he knew I’d give in. Sad fact is that he actually is right; I’m close to giving up on my job. If The Devil Wears Prada didn’t warn me the first time, Lauren Weisberger should have at least taken both of my shoulders and shaken them. 

It didn’t hurt to think about balancing Formula One and journalism out. After all, it’s what I can do as a journalist—know enough about racing and engines and ensure that my knowledge is being shared through my writing and published works. 

I try my best to relax in my bed, lying flat on the mattress with my hands resting on my stomach. The silence is deafening and I can hear my steady breathing. My eyes are growing tired as they continue to look up at the ceiling of my room. 

For a moment, I debated whether or not I should come downstairs for dinner with Lewis. If there’s anything that I know about him, he takes his dear time to get ready—and I have an endless closet at home. That’s telling you a lot. 

A knock on my door makes me stand fast and rush to open it. Daniel Ricciardo stands there with a grin.

“Oh you,” I blurt out.

Displeased with my response, Daniel cries out, “I’m not terrible all the time, Tils.” 

“Sorry,” I shake my head as I correct myself, “I meant that I thought you were Lewis.”

“He phoned me and said we should head down instead of waiting for him,” he shrugs as he sticks his arm out and offers, “let’s go?” 

I nod and head to where my flats are, slipping them on with ease as I grab my keycard and wallet. 

Daniel only pulled his arm back when I wrapped my arm around it. We descend to the ground floor where the restaurant is located. 

A host takes us to a four table seat at a corner. Seeing familiar faces from the venue, I nod at them as a greeting before I find myself sitting across Daniel. 

Soon enough, Lewis arrives and we begin to talk about today’s events. Forty five minutes had passed, and we found ourselves conversing in front of our already empty plates. 

Daniel asks about my family and all I can tell him has something to do with my mother’s side of the family. I guess out of the wealthy people in my family, I can understand my mother’s connections to the automobile industry. My toxic trait is that I despise my father but love my mother.

The difference is that my mother loves us more than anything and cares for our half-sister more than he does. 

But it seems Daniel has focused on a different matter.

“Your mother is— you’re a Ford, Tils,” his eyes widen like an owl as his mouth gapes open. I can practically see a fly entering his mouth. 

“My mum is,” I laugh, looking at Lewis as he, too, laughs at Daniel’s shocked expression. 

“Mate, she’s a Ford,” Daniel reaches out to nudge at Lewis and gestures at me. “You carry that information around just like that?” 

“She’s not really putting it out there for everyone to know,” Lewis chuckles, sipping on his water as he puts it down. “Besides, if you were really into racing you probably have heard about her dad or mum’s family one way or another.”

“I don’t really go digging for information about old money families,” Daniel rolls his eyes as he looks at me again, “you don’t look like you’re happy to be here. For someone who came from families who are into cars.”

“My father insisted on having me work for his teams,” I tell him, “I’m not exactly the brightest for motorsport. I prefer the media more than what my father wishes me to pursue.”

“Have you raced before?” 

“I had a karting career at some point,” I shrug, “or at least I started at the age 4. Mum didn’t agree with it and I should’ve started at 7, but my father insisted. I was already competing by 7. My sisters were too, but some preferred equestrian over racing.”

“If my dad was a twat, I’d stop it just to spite him too,” Daniel says as I raise my brows at the statement. He then corrects himself, “What I mean is I’d pursue the karting career for me, not for him.”

“Gotcha.”

Lewis pipes up, “Blanche is a pretty decent woman. You should see her, mate.” He turns to look at me and asks, “Is she coming this weekend?” 

“With Aimee and Sylvie,” I nod in confirmation, “I’m not quite sure about Stevie yet but she wouldn’t want to miss out on your home race.” Not elaborating any further, I return to the topic, “My father is absolutely baffled when I quit karting but he can’t do much because Poppy, my mum’s dad, was still alive. So between him and Poppy, he chose not to interfere.” 

“But you’re still here on behalf of your father though,” Daniel points out.

“It’s to secure my position and family’s future,” I tell him with a sigh. I look at him then back at Lewis before I say, “Whether I like it or not, I still need to do my part regardless of how much I hate the surname. It’s an obligation that I can’t avoid but it’s alright. It’s not just for me— it’s for my sisters and my future children.” Wow, I’ve only been friends with Daniel for a month and I’m already airing out my dirty laundry to him. Is this what happens when your friends are your sisters and just Lewis?

“You’re taking your elder sister role way too seriously. You can’t even catch a break,” Daniel says incredulously. 

I can only nod as I agree; my mother’s capable enough of worrying about them and I should just be doing whatever I want. She cares for my sisters as much as I do but being cut off from my father’s side of the family isn’t something that I’d allow. 

It’s not as if my sisters don’t want to join me at the trackside; they want to keep an eye on one of each team in fact. They want to be able to know what kind of thing our father brags about. But much like me, they don’t want to be on the track itself—they’re better off being models because that's what they wanted to be. They’ll join me soon enough, they just need to make a career out of modelling and come to work for the driving teams whenever they’re ready. 

“They’ll be in a lot of magazines soon enough,” I shrug nonchalantly. “I’d like them to do that first unless they feel like carrying a headache coming from either Brown or Horner.”

“There are three of them,” Lewis chuckles, “if anything, those three would outnumber your team principals. With you alone I got scared, could you imagine Sylvie? She’s feisty.” 

“It’s not just to keep them sane,” I roll my eyes, my foot underneath the table kicking Lewis in the leg. The table shakes lightly. “I just started working in this kind of industry. What kind of a big sister would I be if I’m just as clueless? I need to know more, especially if I want to be able to teach my potential kids about it.”

Lewis, the piece of shit, decides that this is the right time to joke about it and say, “I didn’t know you’re already thinking about a future with my boss, Tilly.” 

I snap my head to Lewis’ direction too much that I’m thinking I just got a whiplash. My glare hardens when Danny and Lewis’ faces turn red from laughing too much. 

“You ought to quiet down, boys,” I hiss, not wanting to look at the people who are giving us the unnecessary attention being gathered by their laughter.

“You have to admit,” Lewis breathes deeply to refrain from laughing again, “you two got along well. Was it because of Dubai?” 

“I told you that in confidence,” reaching down in his thigh, I pinch it as he whines quietly. He slaps my hand away as I say, “You’re a shit secret keeper.”

“Wai— what about Dubai?” Daniel, clearly not understanding what’s going on, asks as he looks at me while he expects a context. 

I muttered to him, “Met Toto Wolff in 2006. Spoke to him and all that.” 

Lewis nearly cries in laughter as he speaks, “She told me about it years ago. She never knew his name–or she refused to tell me who. She said he was attractive alright but—ow, stop it, Tils.”

I pull myself away from Lewis and sit back straight on my seat as I claim, “He doesn’t remember nor think of me like that, Lew. He’s just a silly crush.” 

“Is he?” 

“He was,” I correct him even if I’m wrong. It’s like Toto Wolff got an on-and-off button in my life. One moment he’s there making me blush the next thing he’s already gone. 

“You’ve been single for as long as I know,” Lewis huffs out, “why don’t you try dating again anyways?”

“With your boss?” I raise a brow, “Are you that obtuse?”

“What? He isn’t bad,” Lewis shrugs, returning to his usual composure as he crosses his arms, “the opportunity’s right there. Why are you adamant on not taking it?”

“Because she doesn’t want to get on Christian’s bad side for fraternizing with the enemy,” Daniel jokes. 

“I’m gonna kill you, Daniel,” I threaten him emptily, making him giggle again. 

“I’m repeating what you said!” He cries out, still laughing as he laughs obnoxiously. Men! Seriously.

“He’s quite interested you know,” Lewis states, his arms now crossing as he leaned against his seat. “He’s playing 20 questions with me whenever you leave. I’m not sure if he’s interested in me winning or you.” 

“He’s not interested like that,” I insist, “I’m sure he means well because I just popped up all of the sudden today. Nobody likes to step on the wrong foot of a newcomer. You’ll just make an enemy.”

“Yeah, sure,” Daniel scoffs haughtily, “the guy who’s been asking Christian questions about you left and right— the same person who doesn’t like Christian— isn’t interested.” 

“I haven’t been in a relationship with anyone since 2004,” I scowl, trying to keep my voice quiet as I say, “What makes you think I’ll be able to have an interesting relationship with him?” 

“He isn’t subtle about wanting to spend time with you,” Lewis answers, “what did he say again? You’re welcome to be in our paddock anytime? Does that ring a bell?”

Of course I do, I almost huff out, it’s one of the things that I intend to do. Be able to spend enough time admiring his team…

“I know men,” Daniel adds, “and with the way of how he’s looking down at you during the interview? With the heart eyes making contact with another pair of heart eyes? Yeah, that man is in loooove~”

“Like it’s a fast lane.”

Now I can’t deny it. 

I like being around Toto Wolff, more than anything. Speaking to him is like a breath of fresh air after stepping out of a cigar lounge. He’s a gentleman; I’ve always wondered how he’s not married. Women deserve him. Yet he’s here, being the most eligible bachelor in the grid following Fernando Alonso. God, I will snatch him up if I can even meet his level. I doubt he likes his women like me… trashy trying to be classy.

But it turns out, my cynicism is unnecessary. I find myself thinking a lot about the things that could be. In an empty elevator, I wait as it slowly closes. But the call from outside forces me to keep the door open until the person catches up. 

The man makes it inside as he stands tall, trying to catch his breath. There’s no way in hell—

“Tilly,” oh my god. I’m seeing too much of him today. 

I turn to my left as I dumbly ask, “Bonjour, what floor?” 

Toto looks at me with confusion in his face, probably wondering if I’m playing stupid or just stupid in general as he looks past me and says, “You’ve got it.” 

Wow, not only am I seeing too much of him, I’m also on the same floor as him. 

I nod and look back at the front, I can see him through the reflection from the doors. His polo remains unbuttoned and his hair unruly after running his fingers through it. I can see traces of sweat dripping down his forehead. I probably shouldn’t do a physical examination on him.

I look at him and ask politely, “Have you had dinner yet?” It’s a polite thing to ask, right? Like I’m not coming off as desperate to speak to him?

“Ah,” he keeps his mouth shut for a second and answers, “it is something to take up in my room, unfortunately.”

“Is it?” I ask out of curiosity, “You could have joined others for dinner?” 

“Busy, as always,” he smiles sadly, “it’s an endless battle.”

“Quite a shame,” I tell him with a shake of my head. “Do people know time zones or just business hours or is it just something written on papers?” I ask no one in particular.

“My brain doesn’t shut off the moment 7 pm hits,” he tells me with a rueful smile. “It calls for work all the time. So, no. I don’t follow my own business hours policy.” God, I feel sorry for him. 

“It’s like a wire, Toto,” I nibble on my bottom lip, not knowing how to express my empathy without looking like an arse, “you can’t plug it back in if you’ve something to prevent it from happening. Like a baby proof.” 

“You’re right,” he laughs. “What do you suggest I should do? The baby proof, I mean.”

I watch him as the door slides open, thanking him as he gestures for me to walk out of the lift first. Then my mouth does not stop speaking, “Have a dinner away from your work, for instance. Never hurts to isolate your work once in a while,” he laughs at that, “read a book? I love reading novels— I am currently skimming through Das Parfum. You can even time your break before going back to work because I can assure you that habit isn't good.” 

“Do you understand the German language?” He asks me. Mentioning Das Parfum clearly piqued his curiosity. 

It was smart of me to bring it up. When he told me earlier that he came from Austria, I knew I could talk to him in so many languages. Like I knew what I should say next. Like a mastermind.

I'm such a fucking mastermind.

My mouth quirks up and I answer, “Wir haben schließlich viele deutsche fahrer.” We have a lot of German drivers, after all.

He nods at me like he listens to everything I tell him. As if he’s following an order or he’s rather impressed with my pronunciations. Nice. 

Our conversation leads us in front of my hotel room. 

I look at him and gestures to the door, “This is my bat lair.”

“Bat lair?” He chuckles.

“My little humble abode,” I joke. “I can unfortunately hear my bed calling for me. I have to go.” 

“Right,” he nods as I open my door and step inside my room. Telling myself to get my shit together, I turn around to see him still waiting for me to head in. That was a surprise. 

I suggest, “One way to turn your stressful work day around would be breakfast. If you’d like, you can have one with me tomorrow?” 

“Are you asking me on a breakfast date?” He teases, watching me fall apart with my face flushing red. He stops eventually and answers, “I would be more than happy to accompany you before we head out.” 

“Okay good,” I laugh nervously, “I’ve no one else with me anyways so there’s that… does seven sound okay?” 

“You can ask me for anything I think I’ll say yes, liebling,” boom. There goes my heart once more. He grins gleefully as he says, “I know a place nearby. Would you like me to pick you up tomorrow?” 

“As far as I know I’m the one who asked you first,” I roll my eyes in a joking manner, smile escaping my lips. 

“I’d love to have you pick me up but I know the place,” he tells me with a shrug. “Besides, it’s by the tracks. We can head down there together before they start piling up for the day.” 

Not wanting to fluster myself anymore, I nod almost eagerly and he exclaims, “I’m looking forward to it.” 

“Have a good night, bello. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, schatz. Sweet dreams.”

Oh I really am going to have the sweetest dreams ever. Trust me. 

[the-ace-with-spades]

Dunno if I'm going to ever finish it (written in bits and pieces at the moment, about 2 out 9 chapters done + dialogues for the rest) but I might as well post it here. It was supposed to be part 1 of a series (the cure series) but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

'cause boys don't cry AU after Eddie leaves 118. When Eddie says a few words too much during an argument, Buck decides to leave LA but still stays in contact with everyone and still acts like Chris' second parent despite being miles away. It takes him two years hopping around the country to realize that his family will still be there without their workplace holding them together. It takes Eddie less to realize he misses him like a lung. Buck-centric, character study, slow burn, mutual pinning, getting together

.

Any kind of holiday cheer has left Buck and by the time he and Taylor are back in his loft, all he wants to do is sleep and forget the whole day happened.

Taylor takes it in stride. Buck has long suspected that she knows a bit too much about the feelings he has regarding Eddie—the feelings that are also too much. She’s been patient with him, like no one else has ever been, to the point that Buck felt guilt about how she was giving him more than he was giving her.

She lets Buck fester in his own mind while she keeps herself busy with unpacking the leftovers and tupperware Bobby handed them on their way out. She puts it all in the fridge which Buck will have to rearrange later and switch some of the stuff into the freezer. He has his own system and she doesn't know it, even after almost a year of dating. It’s fine.

"I know we promised not to talk about it until after New Year," Taylor says when she closes the fridge, voice soft and soothing in the silence of the loft, "but maybe it's a sign."

"Maybe," he agrees.

A few days before Christmas, Taylor got a job offer. In New York. They promised to talk about that first thing first, in January. They haven't talked about it beyond the offer that Buck could be a firefighter in New York. It was Taylor's offer, a compromise that would keep their both careers intact; an offer that seemed perfect on paper.

One thing is clear—Taylor is going, with or without Buck.

And the thing is, Buck would never hold her back, would never ask her to stay in LA with him and that was probably saying more about their relationship than he'd like to admit. But up until this point, he'd been thinking about a way they should go about their split up—because Buck couldn't do a long-distance relationship again—and not whether he actually could be a firefighter in New York. The wait has, so far, been unexpectedly good for them—maybe a deadline to judge how true their I love yous and I miss yous were and deciding whether the last year really proved they were better as a couple than as friends, maybe it was a good thing. Maybe the certainty that by January, they will know what the rest of their year will look like was something they both needed.

"Let me write some emails before going to bed," he tells her.

She smiles back at him, in a way that's almost calming. Not quite, but maybe in a couple of years…

Three hours later, Buck is tired. He's researched how external transfer could work—and it's manageable even if barely—and he's sent seven different emails with his firefighter CV and certs to various chiefs, admins and HR people.

Maybe it's impulsive. Maybe he should wait a bit and cool down. But maybe this is how he should do things—with his heart as the only guide. And his heart is hurt enough that he would do anything to leave LA as fast as he can.

Taylor brings him a mug of cinnamon tea and he gives her a kiss and the only thing his brain wants to acknowledge right at the moment is that Eddie hates cinnamon.

.

The next day, they are at work—having the Christmas Day off means going to work before or after it, or both, in Buck's case—and Buck is tying his shoes on the bench in the locker room.

Everyone is quiet. There's no Eddie. The only familiar faces are Hen and Ravi but the rest of the crew is also avoiding Buck's eyes, like they know he can break at the right look.

"You alright, Buck?" Hen asks, in the end, because someone has to and Bobby is already in his office.

"Peachy."

There's nothing else to say. Eddie was right—he has no right to be angry, about anything, or sad or disappointed or—It's not Buck's place to feel anything regarding Eddie or Christopher and he might have forgotten about it but now that he remembers, he's fine. He is.

Everyone leaves the locker room without a word. It's still ten minutes before the shift begins.

Buck keeps on trying and trying but he can't tie his shoes correctly, his hands shaking enough that both ends tangle together before he can make a proper knot.

Hen steps closer, because she won't leave him alone like this. But that's the thing—she will. Three years and she will be doing rounds in a hospital with other med students. And maybe she gave them a lot of heads up to get used to the idea and maybe, definitely, she will be a brilliant doctor, but it's all the same.

Hen stops his hands from tugging on the shoelaces. Her fingers wrap around his palms, embracing the tense muscles until he loosens the grip. She guides them away, closer to her waist.

"Buck," she says. "Don't lie to me."

"I'm fine, Hen."

There's no other truth. He has no right to any other truth.

"I know you're mad, Buck, and I know you don't want Eddie to leave but—"

"I'm not mad, Hen," he interrupts and it's not a lie. He's not mad—he's hurt and he feels stupid that he forgot his place and that he let himself get comfortable and hopeful again. Things with Eddie hadn't been great ever since the shooting and only spiraled downhill once Buck moved out of Eddie's house after he recovered enough to take care of himself and Christopher on his own—he should have known that it was Eddie's choice, that he was recreating boundaries for Buck so he wouldn't cross into a territory he shouldn't.

But it was too late for that.

Buck has already crossed every boundary anyone from the One-Eighteen had set for him. It wasn't intentional—he just thought his boundaries were in the same spots as everyone else's, that they weren't playing house, that they were living it, the same way he did.

"I think Eddie is making the right decision," Buck tells her because that's also the truth and he doesn't like lying.

If Eddie had talked to him about it, Buck would have told him that too—he would have been supportive, would have helped him with shortlisting potential jobs, would have helped him with talking about it with Christopher, would have set a budget and time-off plan, would have put some order into the chaos the decision was. Eddie was doing what was best for Christopher and that—that's something Buck would never deny him. But Eddie hadn't talked to him about it.

And that hurt. That hurt because one of the things Buck has always thought he would have, no matter what his feelings for Eddie were—platonic, romantic or too messed up to name—was that little place in Eddie's family.

And it was like Maddie all over again, too. Because he thought he had that little place in Maddie and Chim's family, that he would be part of the struggle and the decisions and he would be part of the help. It wasn’t about Maddie not being there for him, it was about Maddie not allowing him to be there for her. It's never been about being left behind—it's always been about being part of someone else, having a place with someone.

And if Buck's not part of any of the two, then who exactly is he? Who is Evan Buckley? Maybe it's time to figure it out, on his own. Maybe it's just part of being a human, leaving others behind, never really settling down with anyone, and maybe Buck needs to do exactly that.

He clenches his jaw and slides his hands out of Hen's grip.

He gives her a small smile and uses the same shaking hands to finally tie his boots. He can't look her in the eyes, at least not for more than a millisecond.

"I'm fine, Hen. Really."

.

Eddie doesn't show up to the shift, or the rest of his shifts, before his two weeks notice runs out—Bobby said he used up the leftover PTO he had, to focus on finding a new job and adjusting to a new life.

Buck picks up Christopher on both Wednesdays and they have a little trip to the cinema and to the new interactive science exhibition for kids they opened just after New Year's. Buck worked on New Year's Eve and on New Year's Day. He takes Chris back home but never walks him past the porch, just watches Eddie open the door for Chris, like he was waiting at the entrance since he heard Buck's Jeep park on his driveway.

He texts Eddie for the first time in two weeks, still sitting in his car in Eddie's driveway, seeing the light turning on in the kitchen of Eddie's house. His engine is on, waiting for Buck to make the escape, to be chased or to be chased out.

To Eddie: Ill pick him up from school for a sleepover next fri

Then, he adds, because he realizes he should be asking for permission;

To Eddie: If its alright with you

A text comes in a minute later.

From Eddie: I have a taster day on sat To Eddie: Ill take him to your abuela b4 my shift then

He puts the Jeep in reverse. He drives to the loft and once he is in the underground parking lot of his apartment complex, he texts Taylor.

To Taylor: Lets do it

There's no signal underground so the text doesn't go through until he's in the elevator. He could unsent it in the next three minutes it takes him to go across the parking lot, if he wanted.

He doesn't unsent it.

He cooks dinner—too much because he never really stopped being used to cooking for two grown men and a growing pre-teen, but Taylor can always take some to work for lunch the next day. It’s a compromise.

Taylor doesn't text him but when she finally comes back from work, she has a soft smile on her face.

She takes a look at Buck, sitting on his couch with an open laptop and filled-out application forms and drafted reply emails to both the chief and the HR admin from FDNY, and she looks at him and steps closer and guides Buck's head onto her chest.

Buck sighs when she brushes her fingers through the short hair on the back of his neck.

It's not quite what he wants but it's something he can grasp now and something that a new place, maybe, can shape into something he wants.

.

On Thursday, Buck goes to work early. Or earlier than he usually would. He goes through the motions—puts on freshly washed and dried uniform, button after button, even getting done the collar one today, slips his boots on and folds his civvies into a neat pile, packs it all back into the sports bag. He goes through the locker too, packs the athletic wear he has to wash between a small towel and gets rid of the little notes, photos and trinkets he has pinned to the inside of the door. It all lands in the trash can, except for the drawing he has from Christopher, of Buck in turnout gear, now years old, and a little origami flower he got from a kid he had rescued from a pile-up his first year on the job.

His name tag is still missing on his chest and as he looks into the mirror on the wall, checking if he's pinning it down straight and while staring at the Buckley written on the silver plate, he realizes he will have to give back his uniform on his last day.

FDNY doesn't have name tags. Their surnames are embroidered onto the uniform in a bright red thread, permanent in a way that Buck would have loved not so long ago.

"Buck," is what shakes him out of his head.

He looks up in the mirror and Bobby's face is already catching his eyes in the reflection.

"You're early," Bobby continues, in that level-headed, monotone voice he uses when he isn't sure what's going on but has a feeling about it. "There's over half an hour left before the shift starts."

Buck doesn't know what to say to that so he asks, "Can we talk? In private?"

Bobby takes him upstairs, to his office. They are quiet on the way there and Bobby's hand is warm on the small of his back when he closes the door behind them. He doesn't sit down, instead, he leans on his desk and looks at Buck. His arms are open like he's preparing for a hug—Buck expected them to be crossed over his chest.

"Cap—" he says and then he corrects himself. "Bobby, I didn't want you to hear from anyone else but I already submitted a copy to the chief."

He hands him the manila folder he snatched from his locker before following him out of the changing area. Bobby opens the elastic in a second and reads the papers inside.

“I think it’s time,” Buck adds when Bobby doesn't say anything.

This stirs something. Bobby looks almost angry—it's a look Buck's never seen on him. Disappointed, disapproving, defeated? Buck's seen that, not this.

“Time for what? I thought this is what you wanted, what you fought for. Buck, you can’t just—”

“It’s an external transfer, Cap, not a resignation letter," he interrupts. Bobby could, probably, talk him out of this and he knows it.

He needs him not to talk him out of this.

“I need a minute to myself, find a place in—with someone. I got too attached to this,” he admits, without really admitting what this means. “To the station, to the crew, to… We might act like it sometimes, but it isn't a family, isn’t that what you told me? I think I took it too far and—it's not—”

Healthy. It's not healthy for him.

Bobby flinches at the words, maybe because he hasn’t remembered them until now or maybe because he hasn’t thought that Buck would remember them. And he hadn't, not until a few days ago when his heart started breaking after sustaining too many cracks in the last months. It’s been five years and Buck still remembers. This is not a family.

And that's Buck's main point here—it's been five years and Buck is in the same place as he started, maybe there's less stolen trucks and meaningless hookups but emotionally, he's stuck. Desperate for a family. Loving with his whole heart without being loved back the same amount. With no clue who he is, except that he is a firefighter, and although this, somehow, might give him a lifeline to grasp, it's not enough anymore. He doesn't want to just survive, he wants to thrive.

“We are a family, Buck. This crew, we all love you, we will always be your family—”

Buck wants to believe it—

“On shift, maybe.” —he knows better now though. “But after the shift, you all will have your real families. You’ve got Athena, and May, and Harry, and Micheal, Hen has Karen and Denny and her fosters, and—and Chim will have Maddie and Jee and I—I just have an empty apartment and way too many feelings. I hate it, Bobby, I hate how this makes me feel so angry and so desperate and so empty, and I need to be less attached. I need to know who I am again without questioning how much of this is real and how much I imagined.”

He can't look Bobby in the eyes—he knows what he would see if he does. Defeat. Sadness. Maybe even a bit of a heartbreak.

“Taylor got a job offer in New York, I checked with the command and they would need me to recertify there if I wanted to be a fully trained firefighter on the crew or squad but they will gladly let me be a floater in the meantime, I don't even have to redo the full training, just pass the ones reciprocity can't be reached on. I’ll technically belong to Station Two-Fifty-Two but I’ll be bouncing around to whichever house will need me at the time. It’ll be good for me, not getting too involved, you know? Just doing what I love with no strings attached.”

No boundaries to cross or to overstretch. Just Buck, in his purest form. Just Buck, not the imagined version he created in his own mind. No Buck 1.0, no Buck 2.0, no Buck 3.0, no Buck 4.0. Just Buck.

Just Evan.

"It'll be good, I promise," he says and it almost sounds like he's saying, I'll be good.

Bobby stands there, his arms falling down his sides. And then he opens them again, this time wider, this time leaning into Buck's space from afar.

Buck lets him hug him. Lets him hold his nape in his palm and lets him guide Buck's face into his shoulder. Lets him sway Buck from side to side until Bobby's breathing, shallow and rapid, is back to normal. Lets himself have this for the last time.

"Please don't tell anyone about it, Bobby," he pleads into his shoulder. "I have two weeks left. I want them to be normal."

Bobby squeezes his shoulders tighter.

.

On Friday, he picks up Chris from school.

First thing in the morning, while, he knows, Eddie is driving Chris to school, he parks on the driveway and uses the spare key to get in. He tries not to look around—at the dirty dishes in the sink, at the thrown over the couch blankets, at Eddie's unused work shoes, sitting near the entrance.

It's not his place, to look at them.

Instead, he packs an overnight bag for Chris—his favorite PJs, two in case something gets spilled, clothes for the next day, his weekend workbook, his space-themed notebook, his comfort blanket, the one he had since he was a baby, and Chris's meds for two days.

He hesitates before going back out to his car. Turns around back to the kitchen and takes a sticky note from the fridge and writes down what he doesn't want to say.

Packed stuff for Chris for the weekend. Don't freak out if anything is missing.

The key is under the mat

– Buck

He leaves the sticky note on the fridge and leaves the spare key under the mat. He's flying out in two days, on an overnight flight on Sunday, it's not like he's going to use it again.

Chris is happy to see him. Just like Buck suspected, Eddie hasn't told him the plan for the day. Buck clenches his jaw before saying something along the lines, Glad you liked the surprise, buddy.

The day is good. They start up by making dough for a homemade pizza and the loft looks like a warzone afterwards but Buck doesn't care. While the dough is left to grow, he helps Chris with his homework and then, they finish up the pizza, making a monstrosity of various toppings that probably shouldn't go together. It’s something they’d done multiple times over the years, even if Eddie is usually there with them.

Chris is amazing the whole day like he always is. They play a mix of video games and board games and even play some modified Uno. Chris rambles about his school day throughout the whole ordeal and runs down possible ideas for his upcoming projects by Buck and they discuss the idea of making a giant soda volcano, just to spite Eddie when it inevitably erupts in their living room—Buck makes him promise he will take a picture of Eddie's face when it happens.

They finish up with a healthy snack—veggies and hummus—and Chris and he brush their teeth before they go to bed for their half an hour of before-bed quiet reading time, each with their own book. When Chris's eyes get tired, Buck finishes up the chapter for him, reading out loud, until Chris curls into his chest on the brink of sleep.

Buck tucks them both in. Chris falls asleep as soon as he kisses his forehead.

He remembers the first time like this, back when Eddie was dating Ana and Chris came for a sleepover in the loft while his dad was breaking Buck's heart, laughing in a restaurant with a woman that wasn't Buck. He had been anxious the whole evening and trying desperately not to think why Eddie wanted Chris to sleep at Buck's and not Buck at their house. But as soon as Chris was under Buck's covers, the only thing he could think about was just how scared he was to sleep with Chris in the same bed. 

Because no matter how big it was, Chris was so small and Buck was not and Buck was a kicker—and a snorer, according to Chris and Eddie—and the thought of hurting Chris, even by accident, or even putting him in any form of discomfort, made him want to grab a spare blanket and sleep on the floor next to the bed.

He stayed awake for about an hour after Chris fell asleep with his head on his chest, contemplating just not going to sleep, when he felt Chris's own legs kicking his thigh with a single, abrupt movement. And then, somehow, he knew Chris would be fine.

And he holds Chris, for an hour, without falling asleep, just like back then, and he knows Chris will be fine with him leaving. He will be fine because he will make sure of that. It's not going to be like his dad leaving for the army or like his mom leaving for LA after breaking down.

It’s a normal day. The upcoming days will also be normal, even if different.

They are eating breakfast in Buck’s kitchen the next morning, Taylor comes in, says hi to Chris and leaves within minutes with her laptop. Before she goes, she stops in the doorframe, looking at Chris’s back, at how unsuspecting he is, and gives Buck a smile that feels like a squeeze of a hand. He nods back at her and smiles, his cheeks protesting at the motion.

Chris is still half-awake but he finishes his choco-chip pancakes without problems. It’s slow, and quiet, and sunny and Buck hates it.

"There's something we should talk about," he starts when Chris is scrapping off the whipped cream off the side of his plate. Buck hasn’t even tried to eat. "Something I have to tell you."

[bippot]

Summary: After coming to the conclusion that they could share their crush, Eddie and Steve also get closer as a result. Too close for comfort at times as Steve would find out, but it's okay, all they need to do is kiss and make up. (Eddie x Reader x Steve)

Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Rock and Roll, Band Fic, Comfort, Fluff, Love Triangles, Secret Crush, Makeover, Threesome - F/M/M, Polyamory, Face-Sitting, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Repressed Steve Harrington

Song Recommendation: Let Me Be Myself by Three Doors Down

Stranger Things, Eddie Munson Masterlist - here

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

Chapter 1: Stuck In The Middle

Every single school morning (more like ten am), Eddie stopped off at the gas station Y/N worked at. She'd roll her eyes as soon as she heard the sounds of Dio pull up at one of the pumps and smile to herself as the familiar sounds got closer and closer until eventually the engine turned off.

"Gimme a kiss and I'll pay for my fuel," he flirted, leaning on the counter with a smug grin.

The customer that was currently perusing the selection of chocolate bars gave her a look of 'is this guy bothering you?', but she waved them off. An "Oh, don't worry. He's my boyfriend" almost slipped past her lips, but that wasn't entirely correct.

'He's the frontman of the band I'm in and we have a deep connection that's based on love and trust, but we're not dating. We behave like a couple in more ways than one, but no we're not because I'm in love with him and his best friend and, for the life of me, don't want to pick between them.' That was a little too personal to blurt out to a random stranger.

"Why the hell do you put $5 in your tank every time you come in here?"

"Means I have an excuse to see you."

Anyone had to admit, that was smooth. Yet, it wasn't a line. It was true. One hundred percent truth.

"An excuse to annoy and distract me from work, you mean."

"That too."

Eddie leant even closer to her, puckering up for his smooch. She grabbed the price gun and rolled it across his lips to place a bright orange $1 price sticker there. "Shame, I don't have a dollar to pay the toll," she smirked and leaned away so she could see into his stupid, handsome face as he pouted in a fake hurt manner.

"Here we go." He slid a dollar towards her. "Pucker up."

She upped the dial and sticker-ed his lips again. "Look at that, inflation is a bitch," she teased him, laughing as he pulled the stickers off and looked at the new price - $3.

"A three hundred percent increase! What has this economy come to?" Raising her eyebrow, she dramatically increased the price again. "Five whole dollars! You are robbing me blind, sweetheart," he wailed as he threw down the money with a comic flourish.

Technically, he'd paid for his fuel and could leave - and probably should because he was seriously late for school by now. Still, she didn't want to seem rude and beckoned him closer with a flick of her index finger. He scrambled his way under the counter and stood beside her like an impatient puppy waiting to receive attention.

"Weird, we have to stop meeting like this," he joked, resting his hands on her hips and looking into her eyes with a big, goofy grin. His breath smelled like cigarette smoke, which she was used to at this point, but there was a masking of something sweet that she couldn't quite place.

Tugging him closer by his neck, she kissed him on the cheek. She let him think that was all he was going to get for a moment, laughing a little at his pout returning momentarily, before giving a chaste smooch on his lips. It was supposed to be quick, but as soon as she pulled away, his lips chased hers in an attempt to prolong it.

"Why are your lips tingly?"

"Had pop rocks for breakfast."

Of course he did. She didn't have enough time to chastise him as he enticed her back into another kiss. "Not getting away that quickly," he mumbled against her, his mouth forming into a mischievous grin. She shoved him playfully and smiled back, knowing full well that if she allowed him to do anything more it would get inappropriate fast.

"You're seriously late for school," she pointed out as she rifled through her bag to hand him the extra sandwich she made every day because he had a habit of forgetting his lunch. "Leave before you miss the whole day."

He winked and gave her another quick peck on the lips before leaving, only to open the door again and call out, "Are you coming with me and Harrington to Parker's party on the 12th? It's a Friday?"

"Nope, I'm working."

"Call in sick."

"No. Get out of here."

Despite her flushed cheeks, she served the customer and made idle chatter with them until they said, "Your boyfriend is a bit annoying, isn't he?"

And all she could say was, "Yeah, he's very annoying."

Later that day, Eddie had promised Dustin to show him the new and improved 'Rockstar Steve', which was just regular old Harrington in ripped jeans and eyeliner. He looked good, so good, but also so very, very uncomfortable. Dustin took one look at his friend and burst out laughing.

"Hey!" he said defensively.

"Dude, how the hell did Eddie talk you into this?"

Steve glared at his metaphorical son with a look similar to the one Mrs L/N gave him at the dinner table that made Dustin hold his hands up placatingly. To make his feelings even more apparent, Steve huffed in response, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Eddie didn't talk me into shit."

"You're doing this of your own free will?" Dustin asked incredulously, his eyebrows raised high in disbelief. It was clear Dustin was struggling to hold his amusement inside and was losing the fight.

Interrupting, Eddie scoffed, "He's only doing it to get in Y/N's pants." He grinned wickedly at Dustin, whose laugh echoed throughout the trailer. Steve was still glaring at him while a light blush spread across his fair features.

"Wait, so you're going after Eddie's girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend." "She's not his girlfriend"

Both of the older boys spoke over each other, trying desperately to convince themselves that what they were saying was correct, and failing miserably. Dustin chuckled at the two, shaking his head at the ridiculousness.

Then he put on his best whiny voice and exclaimed, "I saw Y/N this morn and thou gave me such a loving kiss to see me through the day." Now both babysitters were glaring at the child. "Oh, how I would crumble without them. There would be no way I could go through with all my nefarious drug deals without the memory of her lips gently resting upon mine."

It was obvious to anyone with two functioning brain cells that Dustin was having a great time messing with the two. His smug grin was so wide that it stretched from ear to ear. He knew what he was doing. He knew he had successfully embarrassed his friends, both of which were extremely red in the face and squabbling like an old married couple.

There was no denying, it amused him greatly.

After a long, boring shift at Y/N's job, she did as she was told and joined the trio at Eddie's trailer. She didn't even have to knock anymore and greeted, "Hey Wayne, got five packets of that jerky you like for free." She gave them to him with a smile. "Only stipulation is that it went out of date two days ago."

"Kid, I've eaten jerky that was a couple of years out of date. Ain't nothing going to stop me from eating that." He unwrapped a packet and ate a piece with an expression of complete bliss. "Hmm, that's the good shit. The boys are in Eddie's room - tell them to shut the fuck up, they're giving me a headache."

Saluting, she made her way to Eddie's room where she was met with the sight of Eddie getting Dustin in a playful headlock as Steve cheered him on. "Dusty, your left hand is at the perfect angle to hit him in the balls," Y/N nonchalantly pointed out, but was rather entertained when he did as she said and wacked Eddie in the nuts.

Watching, Steve let out a low whistle and a "Oof."

Eddie cradled his balls as he released the kid and collapsed onto the carpet. "You asshat," he cried out with a pained laugh, looking directly at Y/N, his chocolate eyes filled with mock anger and mischief.

"Just trying to keep you in line," she quipped, leaning her back against the wall. "Your uncle was getting sick of the noise."

At her words, Steve snorted and rolled his eyes as he turned his attention to helping Eddie off the floor. He extended his palm towards his friend, who graciously accepted and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. The boys were eye to eye, their gazes lingering for a moment too long before they abruptly broke apart, causing a small blush to appear across their faces.

Smirking at the scene before her, Y/N extended her fist for Dustin to knock his knuckles against hers. In his excitement and revelry, he slapped his hand on her fist. "You're such a nerd," she fondly teased him with a smile tugged on the corners of her mouth. He responded with two middle fingers and a cheeky grin.

Dustin would come to realise very quickly that his babysitter's - all three of them - were always flitting about each other at every given opportunity and that any attempts at communication were doomed to fall into flirty teasing. Usually Y/N was the subject, but that wasn't always the case.

"I don't know what Dusty is talking about, you look hot," Y/N complimented Steve, nudging him with her shoulder.

A faint blush formed on Steve's cheeks as he looked down at his lap shyly as he went to wave her compliment off. Eddie stopped him before he could with a loud "Dude, you look so good. Take the compliment, man," which prompted Steve to blush brighter.

Y/N felt her insides turn to mush and wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss those rosy cheeks. She tried to hide her smile by biting down on her lip, but ended up smiling like a fucking fool as Eddie made Steve go completely red when he gave him an exaggerated wink.

"Oh shit, I said I'd radio to Suzy at six. Someone needs to get me home pronto."

"Not it." "Not it."

"Not - oh fuck," Eddie groaned. "Guys..." He pleaded, though there was a hint of desperation evident in his tone. Neither of them budged an inch. "Fine!" he finally conceded, throwing his hands in the air dramatically.

Reaching into her pocket, Y/N pulled out her car keys and tossed them at Eddie. "I blocked you in, take my car." He caught them with ease, smirking at her as he shrugged his denim jacket on before pushing Dustin towards the door.

Before he left the room, Eddie leant down and left a small kiss on Y/N's cheek. Steve gave him a look. "You want a goodbye kiss too?" Eddie challenged, raising his eyebrows playfully. But instead of making a joke or a sarcastic remark, Steve shrugged.

Just shrugged.

So, Eddie did exactly as he said and moved over to peck Steve's cheek with the intention of it being a fun little gag, but if he wanted it that way, it shouldn't have been so tender, nor should he lingered for as long as he did. When he pulled away, he found the two watching him with curious expressions. He couldn't help but smirk mischievously to hide the fact that, oh shit, he just kissed Steve Harrington.

"What? Can't handle a simple kiss on the cheek, Harrington?" he mocked.

Steve's entire face turned the deepest shade of crimson red that either of them had seen. He coughed awkwardly into his sleeve. "Uh...Not that. Of course not." Then he turned his attention to Dustin, "The kid's waiting..."

And that was that. The 'nerd' duo left in Y/N’s car and the 'rich' duo remained in Eddie's bedroom. Winter time and a less than insulated trailer ensured that the temperature was less than comfortable so, since she was so accustomed to being there, Y/N had no qualms about peeling back the duvet, getting under it and pulling it to cover her body from chin to toe.

"Comfy?"

She hummed noncommittally, shifting around until she felt comfortably situated beneath the heavy blanket, before rolling onto her side to meet Steve's gaze.

"Aren't you afraid you'll catch his cooties?" he teased.

"Too late for that... for the both of us, it seems." Steve looked almost ashamed as she pointed it out, dipping his head so that he was staring intensely at his lap. "Wanna talk about it?"

"About what?"

No matter how many head injuries he'd sustained over the years, Steve wasn't that dumb. He knew exactly what she meant. And despite the fact that they weren't together romantically - at least, not yet in his mind - Y/N was a trusted confidant. Not his most trusted because that was Robin without question, and if he did ever question it, Buckley would soon set him straight.

"My father would kill me if he ever found out, but it felt nice. As nice as if you had done it."

An insane warmth shot through Y/N because not only had he admitted such a thing out loud, but because he trusted her with it. She couldn't help but smile at him proudly, holding her arms out and making grabby hands so he'd come closer. Without hesitance, Steve did as asked and slid next to her, wrapping an arm over her waist in comfort.

"So you think me kissing you would be nice, huh?" she taunted. A blush coloured his cheeks once again and it caused Y/N to giggle, a genuine sound that Steve wished never ceased to make his heart soar whenever he heard it. It's like she had some magic voice in her which instantly calmed him.

Honestly, he was so relieved she hadn't made a big deal about what he'd admitted. She acknowledged it as fact then moved on to comfort him without acting disgusted or confused, which was more than he'd ever expected. He loves Robin to bits but if he'd said such a thing in front of her, she'd understand - of course she would - but she would need a complete breakdown of everything his ever felt for Eddie with timestamps and bullet points, and it was so new that he wouldn't be able to provide such a thing for her.

All Steve did was beam up at Y/N, his doe eyes shining with adoration as he replied, "Yeah, would be pretty nice." She smiled softly at him, her thumb rubbing circles on his forearm to calm the tension and nerves she could still feel in his body.

"Can I?" he whispered after a moment of silence. His eyes never left hers as he gently placed one hand against her cheek, brushing aside loose strands of hair that fell onto it. She nodded, letting him move in, their lips meeting in a soft, gentle kiss. They parted slowly, neither wanting this moment to end and both knowing that it will eventually.

When they did separate, Steve leant up and kissed her forehead, wincing as his nose tickled hers. "Holy shit, your nose is so cold." He pulled back and rubbed the tip of her nose with his forefinger in an attempt to warm it up with the friction, a smile playing on his lips as he did so.

Her cheeks were definitely warm and got warmer when he decided her nose was now an adequate temperature and gave it a little peck.

The pair lay there until Eddie came back in blissful silence - which was a rare thing with Eddie - and both let their eyes drift up to his fuzzy hair as soon as he stood in the doorway. "Make yourselves at home, Jesus," Eddie joked as he shut the door behind him.

If someone would've asked him how'd he'd feel coming across the scene in front of him before he saw it, he would've brushed it off with some sort of faux masculine phrase such as 'nobody touches my girl' or 'me? jealous of Harrington?'. But, jealousy wasn't what he was feeling. No, most of the feelings he had were good, were fuzzy.

Apart from the nagging in his head which said, 'Wish they'd included me in this. It is my bed, after all,' there wasn't that horrid green devil swimming in his insides. Some would even say that he got a kick out of seeing the pair all cuddled up in his bed. His. Bed. The two hottest people he'd ever seen before in his bed of all places.

It was a blessing really.

Suddenly, Eddie ran into it and jumped on the pair, attacking them in an aggressive hug. "Fuck, you guys are adorable," Eddie laughed as he made contact with them. Steve snorted, trying to wriggle away from his best friend, which was proving difficult since he was trapped between them. Y/N giggled as well but didn't struggle and let herself be engulfed in the tight embrace - she knew it was easier to be squished by Eddie's love than resist and accidentally get bumped in the head with a bony elbow.

Steve managed to jovially smack Eddie away. With a huff, Eddie fell behind Y/N and wrapped his arms around her, his fingers finding Steve's shirt to clutch onto. He tried to tell himself that he wasn't aware that it was Steve, pretending in his head that Y/N's thin purple work shirt felt like the red knitted jumper that was between his fingertips.

"I'm in a hottie sandwich," Y/N remarked happily, earning another laugh from both boys as a result of her comment.

Eddie placed his chin on her shoulder and the trio had an actual conversation like that. The cold was forgotten about because how could it have been a problem with so much body heat radiating from the three of them. Halfway through something Steve was saying, a strand of hair fell in front of his eyes and, instinctively, Eddie swiped it behind his ear for him. It seemed so natural that Steve didn't even react.

They spoke in calm, soft tones to each other until the subject of Parker's party reared its head again. "Come on, loser. You've got to," Eddie argued with his lips firmly against Y/N's cheek as he spoke. She rolled her eyes fondly and pushed his forehead off her with a chuckle.

"Yeah, you can't leave me alone with Munson all night."

"You two seem to be getting on just fine right now."

Snuggling together definitely seems like they were friends. Maybe even more.

Ever since he'd joined the band, they practically attached at the hip and don't seem the slightest bit uncomfortable with each other. After all the practises and hang outs and relentless bouts of teasing, the three of them were as thick as thieves, and it showed. Sure, there were bumps here and there, sure, sometimes things got tense or heated and they might snap at each other from time to time, but hey, it happens.

And as of late? There were less arguments and more affection. A lot of affection.

"I'd love to. But work, you know?"

As his response, Eddie took the shoulder of her shirt between his teeth and tugged on it until Y/N twisted around to look at him fully. Her eyes narrowed playfully at the action but the grin on her face betrayed it. Like she was discipling a pet, she ordered, "Drop," and he did.

Never in his life had Steve seen Eddie actually act so tame and obedient. He couldn't deny it pleased him though, especially when he noticed that the corners of Eddie's mouth twitched upwards in amusement as he watched Y/N shake her head at his antics. Clearly, she was used to the whole thing and was significantly less surprised than Steve was.

"How the hell did you do that?"

"Hmm...?"

"He's so whipped."

That was obvious to just about everyone, including Eddie himself. "A beautiful woman tells you to do something, you do it. I don't get why you're confused," Eddie stated without a hint of doubt or shame. He wasn't ashamed, no. Just confident that he knew exactly who he was and what he wanted.

At his compliment, Y/N wiggled her hand out and reached back to soothingly scratch the back of Eddie's head whilst he smiled bashfully. Steve, however, couldn't stop smiling either, watching how Eddie leaned into her touch and allowed her to run her finger through his messy brown hair.

And, to be fair, Steve couldn't fault his friend's logic. Especially when Y/N used her other hand to rake through Steve's hair too, causing him to sigh at the pleasant sensation it brought him. He liked it when she did that. He liked it alot.

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Steven?"

He took a deep breath and started hesitantly asking her a question that would change the entire course of all of their relationships.

"Do you have feelings for both me and Eddie?"

"Yes, Steven," she repeated, although this time it sounded far more serious. She'd answered without hesitation. It was a no brainer. Of course she liked both of them. Had she done anything that said differently?

There was a small pause that followed. She continued running her fingers though Steve's hair as he waited anxiously for her answer. Eventually, she looked down at him and frowned a little; the thought of anyone, especially him with his church-going past and more heteronormative experiences, judging her for the fact her heart belonged to two men instead of one was not something she wanted to dwell upon.

"If you had to pick whi-"

"I wouldn't." She shook her head before continuing. "Couldn't is probably the better word because I like both of you equally and I understand that both of you might only be into monogamous relationships, which is why I've never brought it up before." She stopped for a moment, looking up to see Eddie staring wide eyed at her whilst Steve sat silently, his mind trying to wrap around the idea she was suggesting.

"So...we could share you?" Steve asked, his expression unreadable. He sounded hesitant; almost scared if he were being honest. He sounded as if he was expecting her to start berating him for saying something stupid, but Y/N simply nodded affirmatively.

Throughout the whole chat, Eddie had been rather quiet. In fact, he hardly dared to breathe in fear of disrupting the conversation. But then, once he heard Steve's tone change from uncertainty to confidence, "I'm up for it if Eddie is," he allowed himself to smile, knowing he had nothing to worry about, and, without thinking about it much, kissed Y/N on the cheek.

"I'm up for just about anything."

Snorting, Y/N teased, "Spoken like a true whore."

Life as a new found throuple was confusing in the beginning. Mostly because the boys refused to acknowledge their feelings for each other. But the more Steve saw the changes happening in them, the more they realised that maybe they should have taken action earlier. And so, they began to spend every waking minute they could together. They spent their days at home and weekends out, and when they weren't hanging around each other in one way or another, they were on the phone with each other constantly.

Y/N was bombarded with love, affection, compliments, flirting and, of course, requests for her attention every second of the day. It was so sweet and endearing; they were such dorks and she found it absolutely hilarious how Steve tried to pretend he wasn't as needy as Eddie was. She didn't believe his act for a second. At the same time, Y/N found that she loved it very much; it meant she had something to tease Steve about that guaranteed his cheeks would flush red.

Parker's party came around sooner than they'd expected and Y/N still wasn't going. She'd asked for it off in the hopes of surprising her boyfriends, but alas, her boss had squashed that idea. Steve and Eddie would have to go alone. Together. Alone but together.

The pair got all dressed up at Eddie's trailer.

"You, uh, you look really good tonight," Steve complimented his 'friend' and gave him a nod of approval, which caused Eddie to flush. Eddie was used to Y/N's compliments. He certainly wasn't used to Steve's.

"Thanks. Those jeans look great on you, by the way," Eddie admitted shyly, hoping for a quick change of subject after noticing the slightly embarrassed smile adorning the latter's face at his words. "Are we picking Robin up on the way?"

"Yeah."

Robin had been told all the juicy details about the trio's new arrangement and her first response was, "Oh, that makes sense." Her second response was, "That's bound to get gay fast."

How right she was.

After a few drinks - enough that the boys were feeling more fluid and fuzzy but they'd definitely remember anything that happened - Steve caught sight of Vicky Black. He'd gone on a date with her a few months ago and she'd not left him alone since. As soon as he spotted her, he immediately pulled Eddie upstairs to get away from her as fast as possible so that they weren't subjected to her annoying presence anymore.

"Oh shit," Steve mumbled as he bumped into the Christmas tree that was in the corner of what they assumed to be Parker's parents bedroom. A bauble flew off and rolled under the bed, but not to worry, Eddie shot to his knees to retrieve it.

Once it was in his hand, he straightened up and handed it to Steve.

"Dude, don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

From where Steve was standing, Eddie was right in front of his thighs and looking up at him with those big beautiful brown eyes.

"Stop giving me blowjob eyes, man."

"Oh, these aren't blowjob eyes." He paused to look through his lashes, easily bringing a pleading gleam to them, and part took his bottom lip between his teeth. "These are my blowjob eyes...they working?"

Steve didn't reply verbally, opting instead to lift his hand to gently push some loose hairs away from Eddie's forehead before unbuckling his belt to remove it. Eddie's gaze dropped from his eyes to follow the movement before flickering back up to meet his with a smirk.

"A little, Munson."

"A lot, Harrington. Don't sell yourself short, big boy, because you are far from it." Eddie gestured to the sizeable tent that had already grown in Steve's trousers. There was no doubt about it now, the love triangle had fully connected on all sides. And you know what they say, 'every triangle is a love triangle when you love triangles.'

Nowhere in Steve's was he apprehensive about the fact Eddie was another dude, but he was giddy at the fact that he was getting some. He gestured for Eddie to unzip him and take his cock out, his hands collecting his fuzzy hair in fist as Eddie obliged. His hands were rough but loving, caressing and squeezing the flesh in his hands lovingly while he stared at his dick.

"Ready, handsome?" Eddie asked with a devilish smirk, making sure there was complete consent before taking it into his mouth. "Once sucked, a cock can't be unsucked, y'know?"

"I'll close my eyes and pretend you're a girl."

Eddie gave him an amused smirk before he turned his attention fully onto his task, starting off by licking a line up the shaft to Steve's tip, then slowly down again. His lips moved along Steve's thick shaft carefully, sucking harder with each pass of his tongue and Steve let out a groan before burying his fingers into Eddie's dark curls and tugging on them roughly.

They should be quiet and they knew that, but it was difficult since Eddie licked his way across his balls and finally worked his way upwards to Steve's tip again, leaving a trail of saliva down the length of his cock that made it look almost glistening and wet and delicious. "Jesus Ed, I think this is the longest you've gone without arguing with me," Steve chuckled breathlessly, gripping tighter on Eddie's hair. "You gonna take me into your mouth or what?"

Obviously, Eddie did as he was instructed, but to be a bitch, he only took the head between his lips. Steve knew he could do better than that so he shook his head and laughed lightly. "Just a little deeper? Use that big mouth of yours for something useful?"

It was clear from his expression that Steve was trying not to sound patronising, but the tone in his voice was completely undermined by the laughter bubbling in his throat. With a soft sigh, Eddie complied; taking Steve deeper into his mouth and got to work. In no time, Steve released with a shuddery gasp and let panted heavily as the last drops of cum dribbled from his cock, coating Eddie's lips.

As soon as he managed to collect his bearings a little bit again, Steve opened his eyes to see Eddie licking the remnants of him from his mouth, his chest rising up and down with heavy breaths and he thought that, in that moment, Eddie looked the most attractive he ever had.

"Don't know if this is weird to say to you, but your cum tastes so good," Eddie remarked casually as he reached into his breasts pocket for his cigarettes and lit one, blowing smoke up playfully at Steve's face.

Steve didn't react. The orgasm had made his mind less cloudy and confident. So now, he was just confused.

Looking down at his lap, Eddie suggested, "Mind giving me a hand?"

"I'm not jerking you off."

The tone of voice he'd used was all too familiar to Eddie. With one quick and simple sentence, it was like they were both back in high school again. Back when Steve and Tommy used to call him all the offensive names they could think of. Back when their relationship was based on bullying.

"I'm not gay."

"Steve, dude, I just had your cock in my mouth."

"Yeah, you did the gay bit. Getting your dick sucked doesn't make you gay. You're the fucking freak, not me," Steve shot back, carefully not raising his voice too loud in case anybody heard.

Freak, huh? Eddie's face fell. He thought they were past this shit. With a huff of "Fuck this," Eddie shifted his jacket around to hide the protrusion in his jeans and left the entire party without another word. And Steve let him. There was no attempt to get him to stay or apologise or anything like that.

Y/N was rather surprised when a tipsy Eddie walked all the way from the party to the gas station. She knew as soon as she saw him through the windows that he wasn't in the best of moods. Nobody else was there so she cooed, "Hey, hey baby. What's the pout for?"

"You didn't tell me Steve's cum tastes nice," he slurred in return. She laughed at the state of him before propping up the opening of the counter for him to join her. He rushed to her side immediately, leaning against her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. He buried his head into her neck as she rested her hand on top of his messy hair.

"What happened? Are you alright?" She questioned, running her other hand over his back soothingly.

"He called me a freak."

Ah, the old deflecting your internal struggles about coming to terms with your identity. Honestly, she understood where Steve was coming from, but he could've handled his anger better. It wasn't Eddie's fault that Steve had chosen that particular moment to act on his sexuality crisis. Maybe, just maybe, it would've been better to wait until he was sober and a little clearer headed to talk about this and apologise properly.

"My shift ends in forty five, okay? We can go home, yours or mine I don't mind, and cuddle together until noon tomorrow?" His response to that statement came almost instantaneously since he made a big deal to give her a big sloppy kiss on the cheek, causing her to laugh. That reaction was the only answer Y/N needed. She lifted his chin so that he was looking her in the eyes. "Give Steve some time to figure some things out and stop being an asshole."

"Okay."

She stood up on her tiptoes to peck him on the lips before getting him some food and water to soak up his booze. The rest of her shift was spent continuing to calm him down and luckily no customers came in because it was so late at night.

And once they were back at his trailer, it wasn't hard to coax him to undress and get under the covers of bed with her, his head resting comfortably on top of her chest while she ran her fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings that made Eddie smile.

In the morning, the pair awoke wrapped up in each other's arms and a warm glow spread from Eddie's heart to every corner of his body, lighting up his insides as he gazed down at Y/N. Although there was a dull pain in his head, it faded away when he laid his eyes upon the soft pink colour of her cheeks and how her chest rose and lowered with steady breathing. A soft smile played at his features as he leaned forward pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Good morning," he mumbled affectionately. "You're so fucking gorgeous."

Groggily, she snorted, her eyes fluttering open as she turned her head to meet his gaze. "Shut up, you're not even awake yet," she joked with a sleepy chuckle.

"I am awake though, very much so," he replied, nuzzling his nose against hers before kissing her gently. As she opened her mouth slightly, he slipped in his tongue, his fingers trailing along her jawline. Y/N shivered, letting herself sink into the warmth of his embrace. "As much fun as this is, I'm desperate for a pee." He pulled away with another kiss, hauling himself off the bed and padding toward the bathroom to relieve himself.

While he was in the bathroom, the phone went off and Y/N rushed to answer it before it woke Wayne up. "Munson residence, Y/N speaking," she greeted with a smile despite the fact that she didn't live there.

On the other line, she heard her mother say, "Y/N, sweetie, you could've called to say you were staying at Eddie's." Y/N could feel the disapproving look she was getting through the phone even if she couldn't see it. It made sense though. A mother has to worry why her daughter didn't come home after her late night shift, it was a natural instinct.

"Sorry, Eddie was in a mood and I completely forgot."

"They must be catching like a plague, these moods. Steve sounded cranky when he called here five minutes ago." Mrs L/N paused. "You're not playing with those boy's hearts, are you? I raised you better-"

"Mom!" Y/N sighed, rubbing a palm over her face tiredly. "It's nothing like that. They're just...complicated." Her mother's sceptical hum caused her to continue, knowing full well that she'd find out sooner or later anyway. "I'm dating both of them and they are fine with that. It was Steve's idea, actually."

Mrs L/N let out a small laugh in disbelief. "Kids these days, huh, I can barely keep up."

Rolling her eyes playfully, Y/N chuckled, "Yeah, I can hardly believe it either. But it's nice, not gonna lie to you, mom. And it makes sense in an odd way."

"Oh, honey, whatever makes you happy, makes me happy. If it means seeing you happy then I'll always support you in whatever crazy thing you decide you want to do with your life."

"Thanks Momma, love you."

That went better than she'd ever expected.

"What did Steve say?" Y/N asked curiously as Eddie walked out of the bathroom and joined her by the phone again, draping his arms lazily over his shoulders and resting his chin on top of her head.

Y/N's mother answered immediately. "Something about you going over to help with a song as soon as you can," she told her daughter, who had no clue about this so-called song. She didn't even know he wrote songs and was shocked to hear that he did so. In all the years she'd known him, he'd never seemed like the type to write poetry in his spare time. But he did today.

"I'll see you at home, thanks mom."

When Y/N hung up the call she felt Eddie's hands begin to roam over her curves as he began planting kisses on her neck, earning an adorable squeal and a giggle from her. She quickly spun around to face him, throwing her arms around his neck tightly and placing a loud, obnoxious mwah on his lips. "You need to go pick up your van and I need to give Steve an earful. So what do you say? Wanna go and get something done today?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, but agreed nonetheless. And soon he was reunited with his car and Y/N was on her way to the Harrington house. With a soft and reciprocated, "I love you" the pair went their separate ways for the next few hours.

Through his living room window, Steve saw Y/N's car pull up and parked right on her driveway. She crossed over to his house and was just about to knock as he opened the door to usher her inside. "Wow! You look like you had a bad night," she stated and gently cradled his face.

Last night, he'd made a litany of bad decisions. Things which had led to getting into a fight with Tommy Hagan and getting the everliving shit beaten out of him. Again. His face had purple bruises on it, his lip split, a cut on his eyebrow that still had a tiny bit of blood dried onto it, and one bruised eye that was starting to turn greenish. His hair stuck out all over the place, he looked exhausted, and there were a plethora of little cuts all over his hands, which he'd apparently managed to scrape open in his attempts to escape the situation he'd got himself into.

And he hadn't even tried to clean himself up.

"Let me play nurse, hon," Y/N insisted, pushing him backwards towards his bedroom. With a groan of protest, he allowed her to push him into his bathroom and shut the door behind her without saying anything else. As much as he wanted to stay put and avoid the hassle of dealing with his injuries, they fucking hurt. And he really, really, really needed a shower.

Once he got into the shower and washed all of the dried blood off his skin, he took the time to assess the damage inflicted. Not the worst he'd ever looked, not the best either. Nothing he couldn't handle. There was probably nothing majorly wrong physically, but he would take some Tylenol for the headache that would surely follow afterwards.

"Who?"

"Tommy Hagan."

"Why?"

"Very loudly asked him whether he remembered that time he gave me a blowie. Robin had to pull me away.”

"Ah."

Now things made even more sense.

Steve entered his bedroom with his towel loosely wrapped around his waist and his hair wet and dripping onto his bare chest and shoulders. "Please put some clothes on so my brain can function properly while I patch you up," she urged, her eyes far too focused on his bare torso to have a serious conversation.

"Maybe I want to distract you so I don't have to talk about my feelings." He moved closer to her slowly, leaning down until their noses were touching before he planted soft and lingering kisses onto her lips, murmuring against her, "Is it working?"

"Mmmm...a little..." She moaned, tilting her head upwards to capture his lips for another kiss, which he happily reciprocated. His hands gripped her waist tight and he deepened the kiss aggressively as his tongue thrust past her lips and danced with hers. He tugged on her hips walking her until the backs of her knees hit the bed and she came back to her senses and tore her mouth from his. "Stop being horny."

"But I want to fuck you."

She laughed, shaking her head as she pushed his damp hair out of his face and pressed her lips against his once more in a quick peck that didn't devolve into anything else. "Nope. Sit." He pouted, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed, his body slouching forward with his elbows resting on his thighs.

"So, Tommy Hagan, huh? Didn't know he was any type of fruity. Guess that's why he had all that anger inside of him back in middle school," she posed, raising an eyebrow as she sat cross legged beside him on the bed.

A chuckle escaped his lips. He knew exactly what she was doing.

Gently pushing him to lie back, she disinfected all his cuts using some hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls she found in the first aid kit in his bathroom. Getting almost beaten to death far too many times in his young life meant that Steve made sure he had the equipment needed to patch himself up whenever he got hurt.

Y/N's touch was a lot lighter than his but it still stung quite badly, he winced every now and then, hissing under his breath in pain as she wiped at each wound. She noticed and placed her lips lovingly on each part of his body that hurt. It seemed that kissing his wounds better actually livened up his mood significanty because he seemed almost more relaxed when she was done treating him.

"How's Ed?" he finally asked once he got the nerve.

"Better this morning." She smiled, her fingers trailing lightly across the side of his jaw in a tender, soothing manner as she gazed down at him adoringly. "He definitely deserves an apology though."

"I know, I know." Steve nodded as he reached for Y/N's hand, entwined his fingers between hers softly and kissed her knuckles. "Thank you."

"For what?"

To Steve, his answer was a no-brainer. "For being you, for understanding."

"You have a hard time expressing yourself sometimes," she said teasingly and squeezed his hand. "It's something that you can learn to work on. You're such a good man, Steve, you know?"

He blushed and stared at the floor. "Yeah, well..."

"No, Steve. You are," Y/N asserted as her thumb rubbed small circles over the back of his hand comfortingly. "Don't ever doubt that. You're a good person and you deserve happiness, you always have," she assured him quietly and he looked up at her. Her eyes shone brightly at him and a smile formed on her lips. "I love you. Okay? And I hope you'll never forget that."

As soon as she uttered those three words, tears started to build up in the corners of Steve's eyes. He pulled her against him as he hugged her tightly. His fingers dug into her shoulder blades as he buried his face into the crook of her neck and sighed into her skin, trying his hardest to control his emotions. He could feel her smiling against the side of his head. "Love you too."

They stayed like that for a while longer, neither one wanting to move or leave the other for a second longer. When Y/N eventually pulled away from him, she brushed her fingers across his cheek and offered him a warm smile. "You gonna let me hear this song then?" she asked him in an attempt to brighten the mood.

"Oh, forget I said that." She raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to forget, are you?"

Soon the pair were working out the tune of the song together, each with an acoustic guitar in their arms, strumming different progressions on their respective instruments to figure out which worked best. It felt…so domestic, so loving; it warmed Steve's heart to know that she was willing to help him out with his problems when he couldn't seem to help himself.

"I think we have the first two verses and the chorus done, wanna give it a go? You sing, I'll play," she offered, her voice soft and gentle and laced with emotion. He nodded quickly and began singing the intro, her melody echoing through the quiet room.

🎵I guess I just got lost

Being someone else.

I tried to kill the pain,

But nothing ever helped.

I left myself behind,

Somewhere along the way

Hoping to come back around

To find myself someday🎵

His eyes closed as the words fell past his lips and settled onto his heart with ease. Every time he sang, it was like a piece of himself fell right back into place where it belonged. Like the lyrics themselves were telling him everything he needed to know, everything he'd been missing.

🎵Lately I'm so tired of waiting for you

To say that it's OK.🎵

Steve was lost in the words, unable to focus on anything else as long as he was singing. Everything felt fuzzy around the edges, he couldn't see anything except for the lyrics in front of him, he couldn't see the world around them, he wasn't able to see the faces of anyone around him. He only cared about the music playing in the background of his mind, the music playing in his soul and heart.

🎵Tell me please

Would you one time just let me be myself

So I can shine

With my own light.

Let me be myself.

Would you let me be myself?🎵

He opened his eyes again after the last note ended, noticing how Y/N was looking at him with a soft, adoring expression on her face. She gently cupped his face in her palms, brushing her thumbs across his cheeks tenderly as she praised, "I'm so proud of you, hot stuff."

Proud? That was new. Steve grinned, a grin as radiant as his voice as he leaned forward to steal a kiss off her, savouring every single moment of it. When they finally parted a few seconds later, she rested her forehead against his briefly and whispered, "Do you want to call Eddie or do you want me to?"

"I'll do it."

Eddie was quick to join them, his cheeks flushed and a big smile on his face as he walked through the door and attacked with a hug. And just as Y/N's did, that smile faded as soon as Steve pulled back and all of his injuries were on show.

"Whose ass do I have to kick?"

"Like you could kick anyone's ass if you tried-"

"I can totally kick ass!"

"Can you?"

The pair were already squabbling again, which was a good sign that their relationship had returned to normal. They were laughing and smiling as the trio walked up to Steve's room, even if Steve still hadn't gotten to tell Eddie how sorry he truly was.

But that's okay. "Hey, uh, Ed?" Eddie hummed in response to Steve's question. "Can you kiss me?"

And the way he watched as Eddie slowly blinked and tilted his head to the side, a smug look crossing his features, he knew that was enough for Steve to be aware that he was mostly forgiven.

"Coming in, big boy," Eddie joked as he leant in closer and pressed his lips against Steve's gently, making sure to avoid hurting his busted lip with his teeth as he carefully brushed his tongue on lips, allowing himself to indulge in a moment of blissful silence as his fingers curled lightly against the back of Steve's shirt, pulling him impossibly closer so that they could share more of that intimacy between them.

When they separated, Eddie took a step back from Steve's embrace as he ran his index finger over his swollen lips in amusement. "That was pretty fucking gay, Harrington."

"Shut up," Steve chuckled as he shook his head, blushing deeply.

From where she sat on Steve's bed, Y/N snorted, "Welcome to the world of being bi, Steven."

"You better shut up too."

The menage et toi all ended up on Steve's bed, cuddling and laughing like nothing had ever happened before. It was cute until Steve remembered she'd promised to sort out how horny he was when he came out of the shower. And judging from the giggles escaping from Y/N's mouth as he kissed his way up her neck, she was more than happy to oblige.

Usually, they'd become intimate when it was one on one situations but with the new relationship blossoming between the boys, they'd figure out a way that everyone was included in their activities.

"Ever tried sodomy?" Steve suddenly inquired.

"Who are you asking?" "Me or him?"

They both sounded guilty.

"I'll take that as a yes from both of you."

A smirk appeared on Y/N's lips while Eddie merely shrugged nonchalantly.

"How does it feel?"

"...Better than you imagine," Eddie replied after thinking for a while, his expression unreadable as he tried to figure out 'Is Steve Harrington implying that he wants me to fuck him in the ass?'

Because yes, yes he was.

Looking directly at Steve, Eddie offered, "Do you want to try it out? I'll be gentle. Promise."

Steve thought it over for a moment. A part of him wanted to go slow. There's no need to rush this or to make things awkward because of inexperience...but he was curious. So very (bi)curious.

He glanced at Y/N who showed no trace of judgement on her face, which reassured him. Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Sure," he answered with a faint blush on his cheeks. "Why not, huh?"

Eddie grinned. "Alright, big guy. Let's do it."

After a thorough discussion about what was on and off the table, the love making started as it typically does with the removal of clothes. And as most men who are attracted to women do, both of their first reactions were to grope at Y/N's boobs. It was a good thing she had two or else there would've been another little tiff that she'd have to deal with, but that didn't happen as Eddie was too busy taking her nipple in his mouth and sucking on it to care. Steve, on the other hand, occupied his mouth by kissing her, his hand grasping at her breast tightly as his tongue delved into her mouth to explore every inch of it.

Y/N seemed to appreciate the attention, giving him moans and gasps as Steve nibbled at her skin before dipping down to suckle on her collarbone. As he went lower, he accidentally bumped his head into Eddie's chin, prompting him to whine as he pulled away.

"Oh shit. Sorry, dude."

"Gotta kiss it better now," Eddie grumbled childishly, pouting slightly, which made Y/N laugh aloud as she realised that Steve would also be subjected to Eddie's neediness now. "It's the law. Do you want me to sue you?"

"It is the law, Steven," Y/N mimicked with a smirk, leaning down to nip at Steve's earlobe. Giving in to his lovers instructions, Steve kissed Eddie sweetly on the point of impact, a small smile appearing on his face when he heard a contented groan escape Eddie's lips once he'd gotten what he wanted.

As the boys kissed, Eddie's fingers moved further down Y/N's body until he was caressing her inner thigh and teasing his fingers around where she needed him most. Against Steve's mouth, Y/N let loose a whine as Eddie slipped a finger inside her wet heat, pressing against the nerves inside her. With each stroke Eddie gave her, she bucked her hips up to meet his fingers fully, the sound of pleasure leaving her lips almost immediately.

Eddie kept going as Steve pulled back momentarily to watch the scene in front of him. His girlfriend was completely writhing beneath Eddie's ministrations and moaning softly and pleasurably, her hands gripping tightly onto Steve's shoulders. Both were beautiful and breathtaking to behold, and the sight alone made Steve's blood begin to boil with desire as he continued to watch and admire his partners. His gaze fell on the way Y/N's breasts heaved with heavy breathing as she ground herself against Eddie's hand.

Fuck, he could never get tired of watching his lovers be in such a state of pleasure.

Finally deciding he had enough of being on the sidelines, Steve wrapped his hand around Y/N's throat so her gaze would focus on him instead. He couldn't help but smirk mischievously as she looked back at him with a lusty glint in her eyes. He used his forefinger to push her jaw down and open her mouth so he could let his spit fall into her mouth. She moaned in approval before swallowing it down greedily, letting out a low whimper when he squeezed her throat as Eddie added another finger to her pussy.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she lost herself in the sensations she was receiving, unable to form words in the face of the sheer ecstasy she felt. Her legs were shaking from the pleasure and she could already feel her stomach clenching as Eddie's finger hit her G spot repeatedly, her mind fuzzy and her cries echoing across Steve's bedroom as she let go of control and climaxed.

"There we go. There we go, baby," Eddie cooed, his lips moving against her bare collarbone as he licked and bit down, creating bruises that would turn purple in the morning.

Fully prepped, Y/N manoeuvred so she was lying on her back with her head against the pillows, awaiting the inevitable moment that Steve slid into her. "You feel so good. Oh fuck, good girl," Steve mused, running his hand along her exposed waist as he slid deeper and deeper within her. At that moment, she couldn't feel anything else but bliss and happiness as she rocked her hips to match Steve's movements.

"That's my girl," he muttered, burying his face against Y/N's shoulder, nuzzling in to offer himself some familiarity as he felt the very unfamiliar sensation of Eddie's hands on the back of his thighs.

"You still okay with this, handsome?" Eddie asked quietly after feeling Steve shift himself against his palm as he slowly rubbed his thumb over the muscles in Steve's thighs.

"Just take it easy on me."

With Steve's consent, Eddie grabbed the bottle of lube that Steve usually kept tucked away in his sock drawer to hide from his parents and warned him, "Gonna start now. That okay, big guy?" Steve nodded in confirmation so Eddie made sure to keep his movements slow and gentle as he coated his fingers and Steve before he pushed inside his boyfriend. "How's it feeling?"

"Weird."

"Yeah, that's normal. You're gonna get used to the weirdness soon enough, babe. Just try to relax," Y/N reassured as she stroked his cheek with her thumb to calm him down.

Steve hummed in acknowledgement and buried his face further into her when it was time for Eddie to push into him. Against her skin, she could tell he was grimacing in discomfort as Eddie moved so Y/N began whispering encouragement and giving him comforting forehead kisses. "Relax, my lovely. We've got all the time in the world," she assured, her voice laced with fondness. "Ed, slow down a bit, will you?" she requested and Eddie obeyed without a fuss.

Then, before they knew it, Eddie cheered, "Who would've ever guessed that I would have my whole dick in King Steve? Not me, that's for sure."

"Me neither," Steve huffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Nah, I knew from the moment I first saw Steve checking out your ass when we went shopping."

"Don't sound so smug, Y/N." "Yeah, doll, change that tone."

She rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's antics, loving them dearly. She loved everything about them, even if they were always bickering at each other - like right now - but she still stopped them to tease, "Are you guys done yet? We are in the middle of a very sexy threeway, or did you guys forget that?"

Playfully, Eddie jutted his hips forward to stop whatever Steve was about to say next and replace it with a deep groan as he entered deeper into Y/N's pussy, causing them both to gasp. Eddie set the pace, thrusting himself at a steady pace and revelling in the progression of moans from his partners, the sounds coming out in sync as his thrust reverberated from Steve to Y/N.

"Oh fuck," Steve murmured, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull as he threw back his head. A string of curses left his lips, making Eddie smile widely as he watched his boyfriend feel absolute bliss under his touch.

Throughout, Y/N was kissing Steve's cheek and rubbing her palm across Eddie's thigh to urge them on, wanting more of his love, even though she could tell Steve wouldn't last long due to all the attention on him. Especially, when Eddie grasped onto his shoulders and started rocking, forcing the younger brunette to ride his shaft faster. "Hi sweetheart," Eddie chirped at Y/N over Steve's shoulder, grinning when she placed her fingers between his and taking her gaze of the look of pleasure on Steve's face as Eddie fucked him harder, his moans getting louder with each thrust, his breaths turning sharp and quick. "Think Harrington is gonna come soon?"

Before Y/N could answer him, Steve let out an explosive moan before arching his neck backwards into the crook of Eddie's neck, panting heavily with sweat pouring off him, garbled nonsense pouring from his lips with every wordless exhale and groan escaping his mouth. "Oh fucking god," he breathed, his body starting to shake involuntarily between the two lovers' as he arched his spine higher and higher, feeling the familiar warmth radiating through him as he neared the edge of release. His hips jerked violently as he came undone under their touches, his entire body tensing, before he slumped bonelessly into Y/N's shoulder.

Yet, Eddie didn't stop there as he was too lost in the feeling. He kept pumping through Steve's orgasm until Y/N slapped him on the thigh. "Hendrix, Ed, Hendrix -"

Shit. Their safeword. "Oh fuck, sorry," he apologised and immediately pulled out as soon as he heard his boyfriend's overstimulated whines. He then turned towards Steve, whose body was trembling profusely, his lips swollen from where he'd bitten down on them during the intense orgasm and his dark hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat, his eyes still slightly glazed.

"Just need my breath back."

"Breathe with us," Eddie said in a soothing voice, placing his hand gently on Steve's chest. "C'mon, just breathe for a minute. In…out…" He did as he was told, allowing his breathing to slow down as his heart rate gradually returned to normal. Soon enough, he sat up straight as he took in several deep breaths, his face scrunched up adorably as he tried to regain control over himself. "There we go. Everything's alright now, buddy."

Once Steve collected himself again, he gave them a weak nod before looking between them and noticing that neither of them had come. "Shit...I'm sorry," he murmured apologetically. "Guys I-"

"Don't. It's okay, it's a lot to deal with at first," Y/N reassured him, caressing his face. She leaned forward to peck his cheek and brush some sweaty hair from his forehead. "You don't have to apologise, darling. If it makes you feel better, the first time we had sex, Eddie came as soon as he bottomed out."

"Hey!"

"Don't deny it, Munson."

"I'm blaming you for having such a tight pussy."

Unable to stop himself, "I second that," Steve cut in, laughing as he looked at his girlfriend before giving Eddie a grin, which caused the latter to snicker. "Talking about Y/N's pussy..." Steve pulled out and pushed some of his come back in her with two fingers, forcing obscene noises to fill the room once more, much to their amusement.

Her head fell back against the pillow and she almost missed the moment Eddie asked, "Mind if I take over? It's been a while since I last ate her out." A while, more like less than two days, but hey, he knew what he wanted. As expected, Steve didn't hesitate to say yes to the proposition, yet he was a little surprised when Eddie lay next to Y/N and gave her a wink.

They'd been through this too many times for her not to know what he wanted. She warned, "You do realise that Steve made a complete mess down there?" A smirk found its way on Eddie's face. He was very much aware.

"You know me, I like messes."

So, she straddled his head and tucked her chin to her chest so she could watch as he licked away whatever wetness he could find on her skin with the tip of his tongue, the sensation causing her hips to buck slightly upwards. The mix of both his partner's arousal was intoxicating to Eddie and he dove in, taking his time, savouring every single inch of her warm soft flesh with his tongue and sucking bruises on skin until she lowered her pussy fully on his mouth. His hands slid over her curves, cupping her breasts possessively until he could feel their nipples hardening beneath his calloused palms, his thumbs rubbing the soft flesh as he felt another familiar pair of hands sliding up and down his thighs.

When Steve saw how painfully hard Eddie was, he let his hand trace along the latter's shaft, causing Eddie to moan into Y/N. Y/N bit her lower lip as she closed her eyes, her hand gripped tightly onto Eddie's hair as she rode his face, her moans escalating and indicating to Steve when he should speed up his strokes on Eddie's cock.

And when his balls started tightening and her breathing hitched and neither of them could hold it back for much longer, Steve cooed, "Come on Y/N, be a good girl," in a playful tone as he kissed her neck, biting down softly to make her squirm and whimper. When her legs started shaking dangerously, he continued with a whisper, "Come on Ed's face, baby."

In response, Y/N clenched her teeth and screamed, her nails digging into Eddie's scalp as she climaxed with a cry that sent both Eddie over the edge too, his cock spilling all over Steve's hand in the process. "Ahh, Jesus Christ, that's it. Make a mess, big guy," Steve encouraged his best friend as he watched with satisfaction how Eddie rested his head against Y/N's soft thigh and his eyes rolled back, his fingers clenching around the sheets as he came.

After what felt like hours, Eddie's body calmed down from all the tension and he relaxed, his eyes big and doe-like as he beamed up at Y/N in contentment. His cheeks were flushed pink as he smiled dopily at her. "Did I do good?" he questioned.

She nodded and ran a hand along his cheekbone, tucking a curl behind his ear. "Yeah, loser, you totally nailed it," Y/N chuckled. "Now let's clean you up a bit, shall we?"

Once they had cleaned themselves up and changed into new clothes, they continued their day, enjoying each other's company as always and working on Steve's song together. However, as they entered into the late afternoon and the sun's rays slowly began to fade from the sky, they couldn't help but notice how Steve looked increasingly exhausted, so they gave up for the day and tucked into bed.

With his girlfriend tucked into his side, her head placed on his shoulder as she brushed a hand through his hair, and his boyfriend on the other side, face buried in his chest hair and frizzy curls tied up in a messy ponytail, Steve couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh, smiling happily at the thought of the future ahead of them. One full of laughter; one filled with love and devotion; one filled with happiness; the future he'd prayed for for years. He'd never thought he would ever get this far; the people around him, his friends who were his world, even those who were supposed to hate him for everything he'd done in the past; they meant too much for him to lose, and he wasn't planning on letting them go anytime soon.

So what if it was a little unorthodox, nothing about Steve Harrington's life for a while had gone according to plan, or anything remotely close to it. But right here, right now, with his loves cuddling up beside him – his home right in front of him - everything seemed perfect. And he couldn't wait for whatever came next.

[elendiliel]

Battle Mask

This AU probably needs a name (and a tag); in the meantime, the first three fics in it may be found here, here and here.

---

In a cave system deep underneath Cornwall, a bronze-plated vintage motorcycle raced out of a tunnel much faster than any such vehicle of that type should have, certainly not without a rider, as the echoes of a rockfall died away behind it. The motorcycle, its wing mirrors tilted in a way that could only be called self-satisfied, bordering on smug, braked at an intersection and unfolded itself into a slender feminine android three and a half metres tall, and of a much simpler construction than the three larger, masculine androids already there and waiting for her.

“Never failed yet,” Glitch commented offhandedly to one or more of Ultra Magnus, Bulkhead and Wheeljack – it was always hard to tell with her, as she seldom looked anyone in the eye. And tended to address nobody in particular. Ultra Magnus did not altogether approve, but knew how to pick his battles.

“What’d you do?” Wheeljack wanted to know. Of course he did.

“Transformed and drove along the ceiling. Their own fire brought it down between them and me.” A reckless move, which found favour with Wheeljack and Bulkhead, but not their CO.

“That was a risky strategy, soldier. One which could easily have resulted in injury or death for you.”

“It was a calculated risk.” Glitch folded her arms, glaring up at the Wrecker commander from less than half his height. “I know my own specs like the back of my servo, and Vehicons shoot like stormtroopers. I’d have been in more danger just driving straight on and not trapping them. And I’m not a soldier.”

Ultra Magnus had his doubts about that. Glitch, who described herself as a “field-tech”, came from a universe where the Autobot-Decepticon war was officially long over, but she frequently referred to boot camps, an Autobot Academy, courts-martial and similar military paraphernalia, and had even mentioned that there had been an Autobot draft during the war. As far as he was concerned, she had been raised as a soldier, even if she didn’t think of herself as one. (And if he ever met his counterpart in her universe, who had led Cybertron for twelve million years without changing the pre-war system anywhere near enough, they would have words. At least.)

The young femme had mostly integrated well into Team Prime. Optimus Prime himself clearly cared as deeply for her as for any other ‘bot or human, and she respected him as much as he deserved. Ratchet had welcomed her as a colleague, Arcee had been quick to take her under her winglet, Smokescreen’s initial attempts to flirt with her had devolved into mutual, good-natured teasing, and even Wheeljack had been seen working on projects with her, none of which had yet exploded when they shouldn’t have. She got on well with the humans, too, perhaps better than any of the ‘bots had at first; apparently in her reality, Autobots mixed freely with humans in the city of Detroit, a revelation that had practically given Agent Fowler a spark attack. He had come around to her, however, when it became clear that she understood much of his… oblique… manner of speech; they had long conversations about “science fiction” and other human oddities. She had also found common ground with Nurse Darby (medicine and a medic’s life) and little Rafael (computers and hacking), was always willing to listen to and advise Jack, and had even managed to befriend Miko without actually enabling her. Anyone who could keep the youngest Wrecker out of trouble and content should have been fine by Ultra Magnus.

But the fact remained that whenever he and Glitch interacted for any length of time, they were all but guaranteed to strike sparks off each other. Sooner or later, one of them would say something that the other would take amiss, and the argument would continue until Prime intervened or a more important matter arose. Neither ever raised their voices, but there was no need. They both would not back down unless forced to do so. Neither was happy about the state of affairs, or knew how to change it.

“Bulkhead, did you get that fossil?” Wheeljack hastened to change the subject with unusual tact.

“Oh, yeah.” The green Wrecker tapped his storage compartment. “Now all we need’s a way out.” The four of them had executed a “smash and grab” raid on a Decepticon excavation site, too deep underground for comms or signal tracking. They had only found it because some Vehicons had had to stay on guard above ground while the rest dug for a Predacon bone (part of a foot, Glitch had hypothesised) and report to their superiors. Bulkhead had gone for the fossil while Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack (half-listening for once and avoiding using grenades in a confined space) laid down covering fire and Glitch’s newly upgraded polarity gauntlets made a fine mess of some of the Vehicons’ equipment and weapons. Once the object was secured, the raiders had split up to draw their pursuers away from each other, meeting up again as late as possible before leaving the caves and calling for a groundbridge. But all the tunnels looked the same; which of the many leading off that intersection would lead to the surface?

“This way.” Glitch’s near-infallible memory supplied the answer, or at least an answer, and she led the way without waiting for approval. She might never have disobeyed orders, but she often acted without them, and had a gift for creative re-interpretations that stayed strictly within the letter of the Autobot Code. Given another aeon or two, she might rival Ultra Magnus when it came to exploiting technicalities. Maybe that was part of their problem; they were just too similar in some respects.

Wheeljack followed the even smaller ‘bot straight away, but Bulkhead looked to his superior for confirmation before joining the party. Ultra Magnus, as he preferred to do in such cases, brought up the rear, doubly alert for danger as the rough terrain was forcing them to remain in biped mode. Which was why he was the first to hear the Vehicons approaching – perhaps two tunnels back, but still too close – and the one to be struck on the head when the shockwave from a random, pointless shot dislodged a rock from the stone ceiling. He braced himself against the tunnel wall as the impact scrambled his equilibrium sensors, then pulled himself upright as the rest of the unit turned to him, having heard both the falling rock and the now far too close pursuers. He knew what had to be done.

“Keep going,” he commanded. “Keep that fossil out of the ‘Cons’ hands at all costs. That’s an order.” He shifted his hands into cannons. “I’ll buy you time.”

Wheeljack looked as though he wanted to disagree, but Bulkhead, his own internal conflict rapidly resolved, pulled his friend along with him as he headed for the surface. At least one of the Wreckers understood that the mission was more important than any one member of the team. Unfortunately, he was too focused on that mission to notice that Glitch had slipped past all three mechs and planted herself firmly between Ultra Magnus and the Vehicons they would see any minute, facing him with an all-too-familiar stubborn expression.

“I gave you an order, soldier,” he reminded her. “I will not risk any other person against such odds as these. Go.”

Her face softened for a moment as she realised quite how much he cared for her and his Wreckers, which he rarely managed to show. Perhaps that was something else they had in common. He had seen her struggle to express her feelings as she wished, and Prime, Ratchet or Arcee gently helping her over each such obstacle. But a medic was usually given more leeway in emotional matters than a commander; caring was expected of the former, and dangerous for the latter.

The moment of connection did not last long. “I’m sorry, sir, but where your health is concerned I outrank you. You’re concussed, which puts you firmly in my jurisdiction, and under my care. I won’t leave you, I can’t carry you, and even if you were safe to drive this is rubbish ground. I’ll have to protect you.” Her magnets slid out of her wrists with a faint but definite click, and her shield jumped onto her arm. (She used to carry an EMP generator as well, Ultra Magnus knew, which in her reality was merely a “tranquilliser gun” for ‘bots, causing stasis without pain, but in that universe it was painful, so the gentle young femme refused to use it until she had modified it to suit her conscience.)

“Very well.” Again, Ultra Magnus knew how to pick his battles, and he found himself touched by her dedication to someone with whom she had never seen eye to eye. For the first time, he added, “field-tech.” It was what she was, he finally understood. Military, yes, but a military medibot, a healer, not a killer.

She turned away from him to face their enemies, his respect for her mirrored in her eyes for a moment. As she did so, though, he saw her expression change as though she were activating an invisible battle mask, shutting her emotions away for the duration of the fight to come. He had seen something similar before, when she and other ‘bots like her he had once known were expected to be sociable and “normal” regardless of their real feelings, and it occurred to him that for someone who didn’t fit in in a society like her Cybertron, or his before the war, every day was a battle. She didn’t have a battle mask, but she did have a life mask. Small wonder she was always on the defensive. He resolved at least to try to fight alongside, not against, her from then on, if she would let him. Something told him she would.

She would that day, certainly. As the Vehicons came into view, opening fire as soon as they saw the two Autobots, Glitch powered up her shield and magnets, deflecting shot after shot, mangling blasters or throwing Decepticon foot soldiers around and into one another. Ultra Magnus’ concussion and accompanying splitting processor-ache did nothing to hinder his aim; more than once, he dispatched a Vehicon about to fire on his diminutive comrade while she was distracted by a shot meant for him. (While her stature made her harder to hit, and though she was probably more dense than any ‘bot from that universe – she was much smaller than her fellow two-wheeler Arcee in robot mode, but about the same size in vehicular mode – it meant that if she were hit, an injury that might only inconvenience even Arcee could cut her in half.)

The tide of Decepticons showed no sign of ebbing, and Ultra Magnus was growing dubious about her and his Energon levels. He had to block the tunnel somehow. Time to take a leaf from Glitch’s book… As soon as he had an opening, he fired at the ceiling, between the field-tech and the Vehicons, bringing it down with a crash of stone on stone. Before the dust could clear, the Autobots were heading towards the surface and, with luck, a groundbridge as fast as Ultra Magnus could manage – somewhere between a run and a walk, bracing himself against the tunnel wall, Glitch keeping pace with him, ready to help when necessary.

“You handled yourself like a Wrecker back there,” he told her, as much to break the tension as for any other reason. “Fearless, but not quite foolhardy.”

That amused her. “I’m not fearless by any means. I’m scared most of the time, but I don’t let fear rule my life if I can help it. Vivir con miedo es como vivir a medias.” He gave her a baffled look. “A life lived in fear is a life half lived. It’s a line from one of my favourite human vids – the point of it, really. Strictly Ballroom. Ridiculously cheesy, but I love it.”

“Cheesy?” He had not come across the word in such a context before.

“Overdone, over the top – oh, I’ll just show you when we get back to base.” A few hours later, when they had emerged from the caves to find a groundbridge and two Wreckers waiting for them, Ratchet had fussed over Ultra Magnus, the fossil had been put in a safe place and everyone was debriefed and dust-free, she was as good as her word. Ultra Magnus did not understand all of the “movie”, and the protagonist’s being encouraged to break the rules and make up his own dance steps made him somewhat uncomfortable, but by the final, triumphant scene, as the humans and some of the ‘bots around him beat time along with the characters in the vid and the hero and heroine finally followed their sparks and danced for dancing’s sake, not to please a jury, he thought he could make sense of it. The young humans were rebelling against artificial, unjust rules, like the caste system in miniature, fighting corruption without realising, and being true to themselves rather than conforming to the world’s expectations. Being brave enough to take off their battle masks, as a certain field-tech was learning to do – and as a Wrecker commander might, now and then.

---

By the way, Strictly Ballroom is available for free download (I think) at https://archive.org/details/strictly-ballroom-1992. I recommend.

[sassy-author]

closure [johnnyxoc]

genre: slice-of-life / adulthood / angst / best-friends-to-strangers-to-acquaintances word count: 3.7k+

Being best friends seemed to have been written in their destiny. Johnny and Soyeon shared a mutual understanding that no one could fathom.

Yet, things change. People change.  More often than not, feelings get in the way. 

Unspoken feelings, careers to build and fear.  Abstract themes but blend them together and you get all the more reasons for it all. 

Follow the story of Johnny and Soyeon,  a best-friend cliché that highlights the importance of timing with  adulthood, career, friendship, pride and love. 

First Love. A concept that may seem childish and futile to some but crucial and life-changing to others. Some experience it as young as at the age of 10, others even at the age of 55. No two people experience love in the same way and that is the beauty of life.  However, first loves are known to be unsuccessful; in general, foolish, hasty, and clumsy which leads to break-ups and heartaches, yet one knows no better personal growth than from this experience. The kind of love that will hurt deeply and for a long time but also the special type of feeling that leaves you thankful and matured.

Soyeon exited the building hurriedly as her eyes darted to her watch. Her hasty steps and alert eyes spelled out that she was needed somewhere. After eyeing left and right, she sighed deeply before dialing a number she knew by heart. Only one beep was enough for him to answer on the other end of the line with a tone way too sweet to her liking.

“Where you at?” she asked immediately, to which he nervously chuckled.

“I’m stuck at work.”

“You-”

“Don’t yell.” Taeyong whined, “I sent someone to pick you up, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“Who-” Beep. Beep. Beep.

Soyeon cursed under her breath as she eyed her phone begrudgingly. She usually would not mind waiting but Taeyong had been so adamant that morning about how she should not make him wait on her that the irony of their situation infuriated her. Crossing her arms to her chest, she patiently waited; Taeyong had most probably sent Ten, so he shouldn’t be far off since his office building was only three blocks away.

Being on the lookout for Ten’s Mercedes, Soyeon paid no attention to the Audi that swiftly halted a metre away from her. A shiver ran down her spine as the sweet fall breeze swept by, drawing a tight smile to her face.

“I haven’t seen this smile in a while.”

Soyeon recognized this voice immediately which made her jolly expression drop. Turning on her stance to face the culprit, her pupils only dilated in recognition of the young man standing right in front of her. He had a tight smirk to his lips whilst his hands were both lodged at the safety of the side pockets of his pants. The opened collar of his dress shirt indicated that a tie used to secure the attire barely a few minutes ago. He was dashing. As always.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well why don’t you tell me yourself.”

“Stop playing, Johnny Suh.” She deadpanned in fluent English; clearly affected by his presence.

He smiled tightly before inching forward to take her in a loose and friendly hug. Though Soyeon would have loved to push him away, she would never be able to; her arms patted his back twice as he took it as a hint to let go.

“Taeyong sent me. Didn’t he tell you?”

“I’m going to kill the guy.” She muttered under her breath; not so discretely might I add.

Johnny kept a keen gaze upon her figure until she finally met his pupils. He offered his signature smirk before simply saying; “Get in.”

Traffic was abnormally fluid, but they still had around twenty more minutes before reaching destination. Their annual graduate reunion was being held at a fancy Gangnam hotel. There was a peaceful silence that settled between them. While the air was nowhere near awkward, there definitely was an elephant in the room; an unspoken tension that threatened to break the sweetness of this tranquility at any time yet, neither seemed particular bothered by same.

Reaching for the music player, Soyeon instinctively searched for Petit Biscuit through Johnny’s saved playlists. It took her barely 3 seconds to find it since it was one of his own most recent hits and she quietly pressed play, letting the soft beats fill the silence with ease. Johnny shook his head with a knowing smile to his lips. This situation was way too familiar, way too convenient, way too nostalgic. But he knew best than to mention it, at least not for now; they still had a whole evening to spend together with their friends; it was not exactly the perfect time to dampen the mood. Yet, Johnny was in the presence of Soyeon, his own personal sunshine. Sunshine who remained hidden within his own clouds for the past year, he of course, had to still edge on the topic.

“Are you that uncomfortable in my presence Yeon?” he asked, a hint of sincerity at the edge of his tone but he kept such a nonchalant expression that Soyeon had a hard time discerning the true meaning behind his words. Whatever it was, she did not let herself ponder for too long either.

“Of course, I am uncomfortable.” She retorted as they reached a red light. Johnny took this as a chance to finally send her a cautious look within the silence that was filled with nothing but Petit Biscuit and their rhythmic breaths.

Soyeon shared a glance to his figure. How could someone still look this stunning after a full eight hours of work was beyond her, but he did. How could someone whom you wished to hate still tug at your heartstrings with a simple gaze, she didn’t know either, but he did. Within seconds, they both erupted in a hearty laugh before Johnny tentatively reached out and shuffled her hair.

The sudden burst of laughter was a simple “We’ll be fine” kind of moment. From this point onward, small talk entailed with generic questions about work and life in general but they both cautiously strained away from any invasive questions that could turn towards any romance prospects that they might each have. After all, a year could do wonders to a wounded heart.

As soon as Soyeon appeared through the main entrance, Taeyong got up from his seat and ran towards Seulgi, as a failed attempt to hide behind her. But the petite woman could only do so much, and well, Taeyong would not be able to hide forever either since Soyeon’s designated seat was right next to his. Soyeon rolled her eyes at her friend, wasting no time in tearing his ear upwards as she pulled him along her side until they were both back to their seats.

Taeyong had a small pout to his lips but in all honesty, Soyeon’s revenge was not nearly as harsh as what he thought it would be. Leaning closer, she simply whispered:

“This is not over Lee.” With the sweetest smile to her lips which frayed a shiver of fear down Taeyong’s spine. He carefully gulped, sending his friend a nervous smile while Johnny carefully observed the exchange with a small tug to his heart.

Soyeon and Taeyong had always been close, in fact, Taeyong was second in line to being her best friend. They both never shied away from the fact that they crushed on each other for approximately a month when they had first met either. But it all boiled down to a simple physical attraction that subsided as soon as they got to know each other on a more meaningful level. The biggest bubble burst was their clashing personalities and lifestyles, these could never allow them beyond the friend status. Soon enough Soyeon became Taeyong’s wingman, and three years later, got him to settle in his longest romantic relationship yet with Seulgi, his sweetheart, as he’d always refer.

Johnny knew that. He was there through the whole courting process. He was the one who initially had the honour of being Soyeon’s best friend and to this day, he so happened to still be Taeyong’s best friend as well. Naturally he knew their history, he was there through the whole sequence, but he could not help the green monster that tugged at his heart; the envy that he could not hide because now, Taeyong was Soyeon’s closest illustration of a best friend and not him, not anymore. And he had only himself to blame.

Taking his seat across Soyeon, she gave him a tight smile. A smile that did not reach her ears, that did not make her eyes sparkle, but he could sense that it was genuine and well, that was enough comfort for now.

Between new promotions, new jobs, overbearing bosses and annoying colleagues, the conversation at their table was lively and all over the place. Donghyuk and Mark were busy arguing over kimchi fried rice again, Seulgi had excused herself to the bathroom with Karina  and Doyoung was showing Johnny and Ten some promotional video or whatever. So, Taeyong took this advantage to lean closer to Soyeon.

“How was the ride?” But tipsy Taeyong is not exactly subtle nor quiet. Johnny inadvertly heard the question and carefully eyed Soyeon who briefly met his gaze, before simply shrugging.

“It was fine.”

“It was fine” he repeated on an overly high-pitched voice “… come on give me more dets!”

“We had basic conversation, that’s it.” She continued, taking a quick swig from the remnants of Taeyong’s beer.

As if on cue, Ten, or better said, a very tipsy Ten, judged it great to reminisce.

“I always hoped that you two would end up together.” Ten sighed, cheeks rosy, while pointing towards Johnny and Soyeon.

“So did I.” Soyeon whispered softly, moreso for herself to hear before sending a small grin to Ten. “Well things don’t always work out the way we’d hoped for honey.” She continued as she handed Ten a chicken wing to keep his mouth shut.

The whole gang could only giggle at the small exchange, relieved that Soyeon did not falter under Ten’s drunken honesty. Johnny on the other hand, paled.

Several drinks later, half of their table was snoozing while holding their soju bottles, while the other half was still competing to the alcohol death, that is, Doyoung and the girls. Soyeon tapped out with a last shot, finally feeling the buzz kick in.

Slowly getting up from her chair, she sneakily grabbed Taeyong’s spare coat to wrap around herself as she headed for a quick breather. Ten was about to follow her, just to keep her company but he quickly chose otherwise as he noticed a very tipsy Johnny struggle to get up and follow her quietly.

Soyeon found solace on a wooden bench right in front of the resto bar they were at. Taking in a breath of fresh air, she calmly let her eyelids come to a close, recounting a few funny moments of the night in her head.

Hearing footsteps approach, she was too tired to even react. So, until the new presence took a seat next to her, gently bumping his frame against hers.

“You okay there?” Johnny asked, half-lidded eyes and clearly tipsy grin.

Soyeon laughed at his goofy demeanour. “Shouldn’t I be the one to ask that?”

Johnny frowned at her teasing before laughing with her. He could never fool her.

“You’re still a light-weight Johnny Suh.”

“You still go out for fresh air between your 3rd and 4th bottle of Soju Lee Soyeon.”

Soyeon looked at Johnny softly, offering him a genuine smile, large from ear to ear. But he saw it, he immediately noticed the nostalgia that filled her pupils. Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the person himself, but before she could even comprehend it, tears welled her eyes as memories flooded her mind. Nothing bad. Only the good ones. All the times she would be with Johnny, just like now, small banter, comfortable silence, and unspoken feelings as clear as source water.

“I’m sorry Yeon.” Johnny was the first to break the silence, turning away from their stare-off contest, holding back his own tears.

“I am sorry too.” Soyeon whispered, loud enough for both of them to hear.

Without hesitation, Johnny reached out to grab Soyeon’s hand in his. Only for the comfort. They both needed it. The reassurance that times had changed but the essence of their duo was still there somewhere.

The next day. 

The constant buzzing of one’s phone is not exactly the best alarm to wake up to, yet, Soyeon was greeted by none other than that. Groaning lazily as she reached for it, she could only be even more annoyed by the culprit.

Taeyong’s wit seemed to have left his body that Saturday morning as he was spamming her inbox  with cute messages, probably trying to make up for the previous night’s clearly premeditated coup. Amongst the dozens of notifications from the morning evil, there was one from Ten as well, apologising for his dense remark for which she was not even bothered by but also, a message from Johnny.

Text from: Johnny Suh Up for brunch?

Sighing, as an unconscious smile graced her lips, she could feel her heart flutter at the mere recollection of the previous night’s drunken episode. Nothing besides apologies had been exchanged yet, her spirits could not help themselves but be hopeful. This was Suh Youngho, Johnny, her best friend up until a year ago. The good entente between them was still there, maybe they could resume wherever the blurred line at which they had left things would allow.

Meeting him at where was once their go-to spot, Soyeon easily spotted the 6ft gentleman, seated at the far back, close enough to the open kitchen and bar area, in order to take in the morning freshly brewed coffee aroma but also far enough from the entrance to prevent any distraction from their surroundings. Their table.

Brunch turned out to be simple coffee, both couldn’t stomach anything but the dark beverage since remnants of the previous night’s booze still haunted their systems.

“Respectfully, you look like shit.” Johnny said, his whisker smile showing before a painful groan escaped his lips as Soyeon gave him a well-deserved jab to the shoulder.

“Respectfully, I wasn’t the one to tap out after barely finishing a single bottle of soju, peach soju at that, not even soju at its pure sanctity.”

“Oh, shut up drunkard.”

They both laughed before falling into casual conversation. Johnny had the most to say since he had missed last year’s reunion.

“Doyoung and Joy are still karaoke maniacs. Imagine if Taeil was there to compete.” He exclaimed, taking a quiet sip from his coffee.

“Oh please, consider yourself lucky; you are forced to hear the marathon only once a year; I on the other hand, do not benefit from this luxury.”

“Perks of being on the move for work.” Soyeon smiled at his remark, only slightly less. Sensing the shift in mood, Johnny cleared his throat. “I really am sorry Yeon.”

Maintaining soft eye-contact with him, she nodded. “I am sorry too Johnny.”

“I know.” You could see that he was looking for words and so was she. So much was left unsaid. After all, they had never fought, there never was a particular incident that shifted their dynamics. At some point, they simply, stopped maintaining their friendship and that was it.

“It’s funny you know” Johnny continued, “People asked me, what happened between us, but I was never really able to give them an answer.”

“That’s because, nothing happened.” Soyeon remarked with a bittersweet smile.

“Exactly. I just- I guess I did not know what to do anymore.”

“I struggled too.” Soyeon admitted, her tone showing great emotion. “I always wondered if I did something wrong. You confessed and I needed time. I confessed and you needed time. But then you changed.”

“It just felt too good to be true, and then the timing was never right. I got new opportunities with work, and I guess- I guess burying myself in work is the choice I inevitably made.” Johnny concluded, regret apparent on his face but the smile Soyeon showed told him that it was okay.

“I know, and I am proud of you. I always knew that you would reach the stars. The only thing that left a bitter taste in my mouth was that... the last time you went MIA, you promised me that you would be more upfront about needing your space. But you ignored my messages, if I invited you over, you’d say that you’d come and then never show up. I called you saying I was dropping by, but you were never home, and then suddenly you were somewhere in Japan on business for months, without even saying goodbye.”

“That’s the thing, I really wanted to tell you everything, that I was confused, but-“

“But you ran away from us.”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t want to run away, I just, I didn’t know if you were being sincere. After all, you confessed only after I got closer to Irene.”

The arguments were becoming more poignant but both of them remained calm, this was not even a fight, more of an honest conversation, long overdue.

“I never felt threatened by Irene on a romantic level. I was only scared to lose my best friend. Your friendship with her is not what prompted me to confess. I knew of my feelings for a while, I just never found the right time until they grew so much that it became impossible to hide it all.”

“But why would you want to hide your feelings, it’s not like they weren’t reciprocated!”

They both laughed at the irony. 

“I know, but I was still scared. I did not want to lose our friendship – what if things did not work out between us.”

Johnny looked at her dearly, simply nodding, because he knew, that all she ever wanted, was for him to stay by her side. She never asked for anything but his friendship. But he could not do that then and even now. He was due in Singapore the very next day. This conversation could lead to somewhere, but the circumstances prevented him from spreading the hope that she obviously held from the sparkle that shone in her eyes despite the heavy conversation they just had.

“Thank you.” He said, “For agreeing to talk things out and settle it all.” The sentence came out much more nonchalantly that he had wished for, and you could see the pain in Soyeon’s now watering eyes, but she smiled nonetheless.

‘He must have a reason.’ She thought; he had to have a reason for bringing the topic up, and then leaving her high and dry.

“Thank you too, for giving me a chance to speak my mind as well.”

Three years later.

“Oolong fresh tea to-go for Soyeon.” The barista announced on a sing-song pitch. Soyeon hurried to grab her order, thanking the barista with as big of a smile that she could show for a Monday morning.

“Soyeon is that you?” Turning around, surprised, there, in flesh, Johnny Suh stood before her, looking as dapper as ever.

A hint of recognition dilated her pupils before she smiled, clearly not expecting to meet him at the local café; last time she had heard from him, or better said about him from Taeyong, he was successful in California after the completion of his initiatives on a huge cross-border acquisition.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He announced, reaching for a friendly hug which she returned warmly.

“I did not know that you were back in Seoul.” She stated, still in disbelief, following Johnny as he naturally guided them both to an empty table.

Scratching the back of his nape with a bashful smile, “Came back last week.” Looking at her with what could only be defined as adoration, he added, “For good this time.”

Soyeon was not dumb, she immediately understood the weight of his words. He was finally back. Johnny Suh was finally in the same place as her, and this time, he would not be leaving. But she could not dwell on it, not anymore.

“So, tell me, how was California?”

“It was great, but extremely tiring. You’d think that I would be more comfortable to be this close to Chicago, but I missed Seoul more than planned.”

“That’s so unlike the Johnny Suh that I knew.” Soyeon teased, settling in to have her to-go order in-house in the end.

“Really?” Johnny laughed, before getting comfortable as well, showing nothing but complete attention to her. “And how exactly was the Johnny Suh that you knew?”

Soyeon did not even need to think about it as she started, “Well for starters, I would never see him grab coffee this early when he’d really rather make his own at home.”

“Touché. But you know America changes you. What else?”

“I don’t know, you used to always fuss about wanting to see the World and explo-”

Soyeon’s sentence got interrupted mid-way as her phone started ringing. Johnny threw an inadvertent look at her phone, not trying to pry, but really accidentally and the name that showed up was enough to take his breath away.

Jaehyun <3

“Hey babe, yes, I’m alright. Nope I’m still at the café, actually you will never guess who I met here. Johnny.”

Soyeon’s conversation was light, but Johnny immediately noticed the sparkle in her eyes, the smile that found her lips as she listened to Jaehyun. A minute later, the phone call was cut, and she pursues.

“Sorry about that, Jaehyun says hi by the way.”

Johnny smiled. He could only do that much. Of course, he would say hi. From what he had heard, Jaehyun was a great guy. Taeyong would not shut up about him and how well he integrated their tight-knit entourage.

“What was I telling you again?”

“You were telling me about my want to travel…” Johnny said, with as much calmness as he could.

“Ah yes, you always wanted to explore. It is so unlike you to settle back here.”

“Just wanted to find a sense of home again.” He stated. a bittersweet smile to his lips as he sipped on his Americano. ‘Home is where the heart is.’ He thought, looking at her with nothing but fondness once again. She looked so happy.

Their conversation continued, two old friends catching up. He did his best to keep it going as long as it could, after all, it had been so long since he last felt so enthused. Alas, nothing could follow through. They were only, two old friends catching up. With a promise to meet again but no concrete plans ever made. At the end of the day, that was all it could ever be. The beautiful diamond band that laced her left ring finger was a clear enough reminder. He was too late. ‘The timing was never right, and that’s okay,’ he thought.

THE END. 

[s6lars]

the 4 times he didn’t – and the 1 time he did.

a sequel to the 5 times he knew.

a trip to his hometown for the holidays might just be gavi’s golden chance to tell you how he really feels. (wc: 13.2k)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. pg6 x reader.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. fluff, some angsty bits and mildly suggestive in the end. more idiots in love, mutual pining, childhood best friends to lovers!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. cursing, drinking, suggestive at times

𝐀/𝐍. reupload from 888bear. part two to t5thk, i'll always remember the staying up until 3 am to crunch this one out in time. happy reading!

NOVEMBER 19 —  PROLOGUE

[13:09] you: are you coming back home with aurora?

Gavi stares intently at the message illuminating his phone screen. When he planned a trip home to Sevilla for the holidays, the reality that you were also in the city never crossed his mind once. 

[13:10] gavi: why? you miss me that badly?

He punches the letters into his keyboard before pressing send. The tone of his message is playful and frisky, all done to keep his distance and your friendship intact. 

Gavi will never forget the day he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, water trickling down his face. The day he faced his emotions head-on, the day he told himself that by tomorrow, you would be his. He had planned it all out — the bouquet of roses and the reservation for a seat at Barcelona’s most luxurious restaurant had been sitting in his possession for a week, waiting to be presented at the right moment.

He asked you over the phone that night if you were down to have dinner the next day. It was a phase in his plan that he wasn’t scared of at all, as you always agreed to all of his plans.

So, you can imagine the shock when you told him, “Gav, I’m going back to Sevilla tomorrow. Didn’t I tell you the other day?” Brutal.

For the only time in his life, Gavi hated being a footballer. He hated being stationed in a city unable to leave for months. Sure, he could’ve confessed his feelings over the phone or in a text, but really? He couldn’t think of a cornier, less romantic way to start a relationship with someone.

It seemed like every time he tried to make a move, something new blocked his path. Gavi wasn’t a superstitious person, but over time he took it as a sign from the universe that he should probably slow down. I mean, he doesn’t even know if the feeling was mutual. You two still kept in touch despite the distance, and he did his best to repress the desires in his heart through it all.

Maybe, a little too well that he had completely forgotten you existed when he announced to his family and friends that he would return to his hometown exactly a month from now.

It would mark three months since you last saw each other in person. The last time you were apart for long, it was for three weeks. He still remembers the burning feeling when he hugged you after coming home from the States, bringing him to the realization that he wanted nothing more than to be yours.

[13:11] you: who wouldn’t miss the nicest sweetest most attractive paez family member

[13:11] you: talking about aurora, ofc

Gavi smiles to himself at your words, blushing like crazy. God, even pixels on a screen could get him this riled up as long as it was your doing.

He had mixed feelings about the trip. On one hand, Gavi missed you so, so much — on the other, he’s terrified that he’ll fall to his knees and break into dramatic speech upon seeing you. 

Just how long can he go before he comes clean?

DECEMBER 19 — STUDY BUDDY 

When Gavi arrived in his hometown, he was welcomed by his family, friends, and the crowd of strangers that had gathered in front of the restaurant he was eating lunch at. He was arguably one of the biggest stars to emerge from the area, and people were eagerly anticipating his return.

As soon as he unpacked his bags at his parent’s house, Gavi was met with numerous invitations from people he hadn’t seen in years. Lunch here, dinner there, can you stop by my nephew’s football practice? He was here to rest and spend time with his loved ones, not embark on an impromptu press tour. 

His first stop was a big lunch, attended by his family, cousins, and childhood friends. The twenty or so people were gathered in a local restaurant owned by Gavi’s uncle. He enjoyed catching up with everyone, but a quick scan around the table informed him that you weren’t there. 

“Where’s Y/N?” He asked around.

“Oh, she’s studying for some exam, I think,” one of his friends replied. He was upset with the answer. He’s been dying to see you for weeks, and you prioritized some stupid test over him?

Gavi pulls out his phone and sends you a message.

[12:33] gavi: how dare you leave me to study

[12:33] you: some of us actually went to uni, high school dropout [12:34] gavi: I FINISHED SCHOOL I DID NOT DROP OUT

[12:34] you: at SIXTEEN. be serious

[12:34] gavi: i finished early to play football for the best club in the world.

[12:34] you: cool story, still a dropout

[12:34] gavi: not a dropout

Gavi can’t stop himself from smiling alone like an idiot.

[12:34] gavi: you’re telling me you cant even spare 5 mins for me 🥺

[12:35] you: ew dont ever use that emoji again

[12:35] gavi: can i come over at least [12:35] you: only if you bring food

[12:35] gavi: deal

Once everyone had enough food in their stomachs, people started leaving one by one. It was time for everyone to go home. After exchanging goodbyes with the party, Gavi checked the clock: 2 pm. He hoped you were still hungry for the food he promised. One quick taxi ride later, he was knocking on your front door. 

Gavi can hear the soft patter of your footsteps behind the door before it swings open, revealing your face beaming back at him. His heart skips a beat at the sight.

“Hey delivery guy,” you tease, your tongue in your cheek, “it took an hour and a half for my food to come? I’m leaving a bad review.” Gavi playfully pouts at your words, his head sinking as you start to burst into laughter.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” You said in between giggles, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him into an embrace. He coils his arms around your waist, his face instinctively burying into the crook of your neck. The familiar scent of your perfume fills his senses and he feels himself falling head over heels for you again.

You pull away from the boy and he hands you the bag of food in his hands. Gavi hopes his face isn’t as red as he thinks it is.

“Get in. We have a lot of catching up to do.” You move away from the door to let him in, leading him into your living room.

“We could’ve caught up if you were there. At lunch.” You roll your eyes at him and sit on the couch, a mountain of notes and open textbooks before you. Gavi’s jaw drops at the sight.

“Oh, come on! You’re still studying?” You tilt your head in confusion.

“How do you think I get straight A’s, Gavira?” The youngster plops down on the opposite end of the couch, extending his legs on the cushions.

“Cheating. Pure luck. Bribery. You hire a genius doppelgänger to sit in for you at every exam.”

“Very funny,” you responded sarcastically.

You take the container of food from the plastic bag and set it on your lap. Opening the lid, you were met with the sight of one of your favorite dishes. Gavi watches the way your eyes light up, your tongue darting to lick your lips.

“So you invite me over to get free food and to sit and watch you study?” Taking a bite of the meal, you turn to look at him, stifling a laugh.

“Yeah. Basically.” You placed the container on the table across from you. “It’s the least you can do to help.”

Gavi sees you pick up a stack of flashcards and start flipping through them. Your lips mutter something under your breath every once in a while, inaudible to him. You were deep in focus, working to remember the terms you had written down. That’s when an idea pops into his head.

Reaching over the length of the couch, he yanks the papers from your grip. You looked at him stunned, jaw hanging in the air. “Hey!”

“I know another way I can be helpful.” He leans back on the couch arm and you crawl towards him.

“Give them back!” you exclaimed, attempting to pry them back from him. Maybe you forgot that he was a professional athlete because he quickly overpowers you, laughing at your efforts. 

You don’t back down. Your mother didn’t raise a quitter. Instead, you push even further, your arms gripping Gavi’s wrists as he twists and turns away from you. Both of you burst into a fit of laughter, trying but ultimately failing to form any coherent sentences. Not long after, you two had to pause to collect your breaths, your abdomens sore from laughing.

It was then that you realized your current state — you were sat on Gavi���s lap, straddling his thighs with your hands interlocked, your faces inches apart. Silence falls in the room as you gazed into each other’s eyes.

You pulled away from him, flustered, flicking hair out of your face. “Give me back my flashcards.”

“Just let me help you,” Gavi’s voice turns soft as he speaks. You couldn’t say no to that. 

You mimic his posture, leaning opposite him and extending your legs, folding your arms against your chest. Gavi flips through the flashcards and lands on one. He pauses to read it before speaking up.

“Enterprise zones.”

“Specific geographic areas to which governments try to attract private business investment by offering lower taxes and other governmental support,” you stated. Gavi raises his eyebrows and nods, astonished. You didn’t stutter once. 

“That is… correct.” You smirk, proud of your knowledge. He flips through the deck and lands on another card.

“Venture capitalists.”

“Individuals that invest in new businesses in exchange for partial ownership of those businesses.”

“Individuals or companies,” Gavi corrects you.

“Doesn’t matter. Same thing.”

“Nuh-uh!” Gavi lifts his hand to silence you. “If it’s not exactly the same, you’re wrong.”

“You didn’t even write the flashcards!” you protested.

“I thought you wanted straight A’s,” he taunts. You sink back into your seat as he begins flipping through the deck again.

“Microeconomics versus macroeconomics.”

“Microeconomics focuses on the actions of individual agents such as consumers, householders, works, and businesses, regarding the allocation of scarce resources within an economy.”

“Right. And macroeconomics?” Gavi tilts his head low, his brown eyes piercing into yours. The sudden eye contact stops any train of thought in your brain, leaving you speechless. You attempt to form an answer but come up short. 

“Macroeconomics…” you trailed off, buying time for yourself. “...focuses on…” Gavi lifts one of his eyebrows, waiting for you to finish. His gaze lingers as you chew on your bottom lip in thought.

“Come on,” he encourages. You dug deep in your memory. This was basic stuff, how could you not know the answer? And why were you so rattled making eye contact with your best friend?

You took a deep breath, covering your eyes with your right hand. You just needed to focus. “Focuses on… broad issues… such as the unemployment level, GDP, inflation, interest rates, government deficits, and…” you attempt to finish the sentence, desperately trying to get Gavi’s face out of your brain. “...monetary policy, and fiscal policy.”

You lift your head to check Gavi’s reaction. You’re sure you got that right.

“That’s right. Good girl.”

If you weren’t sitting down, you’re sure your knees would’ve buckled at his words.

Disappointed with your knowledge, you diverted your attention back to the flashcards, memorizing the terms from the beginning. Gavi assured you that you were fine (before persuading you to play Mario Party), but you were a perfectionist. The fact that he successfully distracted you earlier only motivated you more.

As you sat examining the cards, Gavi opted to scroll through his phone. Eventually, he got bored of his Instagram feed and turned it off to look up at you.

He admired the details on your face, the way your brows furrowed in focus, your head tilting as you rested your face on your palm. He catches you scrunching your nose now and again, and the way a sigh leaves your lungs as you switch between cards.  

Gavi’s eyes trail down your body. The burgundy t-shirt wrapped around your figure was a little too big for your frame, and it hangs right above the waistband of your shorts. Every time you readjust your position, he gets a glimpse of your abdomen, and he swallows at the sight.

“Is something wrong?” Your voice interrupts Gavi’s little daydreaming session. His eyes widen in shock. Fuck, he thought to himself. Did you catch him checking you out?

“Hmm?”

“Do I have something on my top?” You looked down at the material, scanning it for any stains.

“No,” he responds. 

“So what is it?” You questioned. Gavi takes a moment before responding.

“Nothing.”

The words sit on the tip of his tongue, seconds away from being spoken. He looks back down at his phone, preventing himself from doing so.

DECEMBER 23 — LATE NIGHT TALKING

The muffled jazz music from the bar is all that can be heard as Gavi leans against a brick wall. He stares blankly into the distance, feeling the cool nighttime breeze fanning his face. The silence was a comforting contrast to the bustling scene indoors. 

To millions of people around the world, Gavi was a passionate (and borderline aggressive) ball of fire that blazed through the pitch, a player who was willing to go toe-to-toe against men taller, stronger, and older than him for the sake of his team. Though they weren’t wrong, Gavi off the pitch was a very different person. It was evident in the way he frequently excused himself in the middle of gatherings this past week, seeking time alone.

Suddenly, he heard shoes clicking against the cobblestones and quickly pulled his hood over his head, preparing to leave. It wasn’t until he heard a familiar voice calling out to him that he stops dead in his tracks.

“Gavi?” Who else, if not you?

He turns around and sees you step closer to him. The street lights illuminate the surroundings just enough for him to barely make out your figure.

“What are you doing out here?” you asked. 

“I could say the same about you. Why aren’t you inside with everyone else?”

After you had bailed on the planned lunch several days ago, Gavi made sure that you were present at the next gathering — reserved only for his childhood friends at a local bar. He went as far as calling you every five minutes for a whole hour before you left. You contemplated blocking his number.

You scratched the back of your neck, avoiding his gaze. “Some dude tried to flirt with me. Got pissed when I said no. It got really messy.” Gavi’s face twisted in anger at your words.

“What?!” He was about to march back to the bar, ready to confront the man. You grabbed him by his arms, preventing him.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Please,” you pleaded. “The other boys took care of it. Please don’t, I really don’t want it to get even messier.” Gavi would do anything for you if you asked. And when you’re in a vulnerable state like this, he doesn’t dare to go against your warnings.

“Are you okay?” The boy’s hands land on your shoulders and you nod in response. 

“Are you actually?” He always knew when you weren’t telling the truth. 

You sighed, looking in the direction of the bar. The boys were probably still going at it, cussing out the man in your defense. You remembered his foul words being hurled at you, his disgusting actions in your way as you repeatedly refused. The thought was vomit-inducing.

“I don’t want to go back inside.” 

“We don’t have to.” We. It was his way of telling you that he would go wherever you wanted him to.

“But I’m not ready to go home either.” You turned back to Gavi and he slips his hands in his pockets. For a moment, you two stand in silence, staring into each other’s eyes.

Gavi inhales sharply, his face lighting up. The expression was familiar — he had an idea.

“I know a place.” “A place?”

“It’s not home. It’s not here.”

“How do I know you’re not gonna throw me off a cliff?” He smirks at your teasing. You always make room for snarky comments, no matter the scenario.

He extends his arm out to you, waiting for you to take his hand in yours. “Do you trust me?”

You don’t even have to think twice about the answer.

Wrapping your hand around his, Gavi’s signature smirk appears on his face as he tugs you towards him. Hand in hand, you two stroll through the streets of Sevilla, laughing at each other’s antics for the world to see. The streets were empty as it was well past midnight, providing a perfect opportunity for you and Gavi to chase each other down the alleyways, giggling like little kids.

You didn’t even notice that you arrived at his planned destination until he spoke up. “This is the place.”

At first, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings due to the lack of light. You were squinting your eyes, looking in every direction to find this ‘place’ he kept referencing.

You hear Gavi release a chuckle, barely audible. When he grips your arms and slowly pushes you forward, you jolt at the sudden action, involuntarily holding on to his wrists for support. You take a few steps forward, and it’s when the city scenery comes into view that you realize why he brought you here in the first place.

“See? I told you I know a place.”

When you two were just ten, Gavi challenged you to a game of two-touch, eager to show off his skills. Toward the end of the game, you miserably failed to control the ball, instead kicking it far away and smashing it into the window of a bodega. You could hear the bickering of the owner from inside, and as you prepared to be scolded for hours on end, Gavi grabbed your arm and started running in a random direction. He continued to run as if his life depended on it, leading you to god knows where, laughing every step of the way. Eventually, he stops at a patch of grass to collect his breath. You two collapse on the land, lying in the shade underneath a tree. It was one of your fondest memories with Gavi.

The tree stands tall eight years later — except, the two little kids that once rested below it were all grown up. 

You gazed out at the city skyline from above, taking in the fresh air. It was exactly what you needed to make you feel better.

A rustling noise to your left catches your attention, and you see Gavi had sat down on the patch of grass, making himself comfortable. He pats the space next to him, inviting you to do the same. You join him on the ground, bringing your knees to your chest,

Suddenly, a chilling gust of wind blows over the area, causing shivers to run up and down your spine. You hug yourself to generate some warmth, regretting wearing a short-sleeved crop top knowing how cold Sevilla could get at night.

Gavi notices your actions, and without a second thought removes his zip-up jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. You sigh in relief as the warm fabric engulfs your bare arms.

“Thanks,” you breathe out. 

“No catching colds while I’m here,” the boy replies.

You look at the youngster and realize he only has a t-shirt underneath. He couldn’t be any warmer than you were at the moment.

“Gavi, you’re going to catch a cold.”

“I’m built different.” He shrugs, and you clicked your tongue at his response.

“I’m being serious!”

“Don’t worry about me.” He hopes that deep down, you know that he was willing to risk everything for you, only you.

You wrap the article of clothing tighter around your frame, never wanting to take it off.

“When are you going back to Barcelona, by the way?” The sudden question causes Gavi’s head to snap in your direction. He had been enjoying the comfortable silence between you two.

“Uhm, the day after New Year’s.”

You pouted at the response. You wanted him to stay for longer.

“Why can’t you stay for longer?” It was at this point when Gavi usually retorted back playfully, but when you spoke in that voice that made him weak in the knees, enveloped in his jacket, he didn’t want to spoil the moment.

“You know why.”

Gone were the days when Gavi was a young kid, happily telling his neighbors he played for Barca every chance he got. No longer could he join his family for their yearly vacations, he couldn’t even see them when he missed them most. This was his life now — a professional athlete, the weight of a million expectations on his shoulders as he represents the club he grew up with and the country he was born in. 

“I still can’t believe you’re, like, actually a football player now. No more funny business.”

“You’re only now realizing that? Really? Multiple victories, a World Cup appearance… it never occurred to you then?”

“Mmm…” you pondered for a moment. “Nope.”

“I’m heartbroken. How could you do this to me?” Gavi fakes crying as you giggle at his antics, nudging him by the shoulder.

In the dark of the night, Gavi can see your face suddenly drop. Something was bothering you.

“Y/N?” It takes you a few seconds before you can speak.

“Do you ever feel scared of growing up, Gav?” The air had shifted around you two. “Like, mentally you feel like you’re still a kid, but all of a sudden you have to worry about bills, and rent, and exams, and just, ugh.” 

You drop your head, resting your chin on your knees. The thought had consumed you for months at this point.

“Like, I see you, and you’re out here doing all these things, making our country and city proud, and then I look at myself and just think, damn, I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing with my life.” 

Gavi scoots closer, your sides now touching. His skin yearns, burns at the contact.

“Who says everything’s been going well for me? I don’t kick a ball into a net and now millions of people say I should be sold, or I’m a scam, or I don’t deserve my spot on the team. Sometimes I look at my friends that are still in La Masia and think they deserved to be called up instead.”

You lean your face closer to him. “Don’t say that. You deserve everything you worked for.”

“I wish you could feel that way about yourself.” 

“I… don’t know if I can.” 

“Well then, I wish you know that I feel that way about you.” Gavi’s words pierce through your cold exterior, landing straight in your heart. 

You hide your face in your knees, feeling your face getting hotter by the second. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Gavi’s heart rapidly thundered in his chest. This was it.

You two were sharing a moment, you were alone, and the ambiance was perfect. The stars had quite literally aligned and led him to this moment. It was time to release the words suffocating his chest every time he saw you, to finish what started back in Barcelona.

“Y/N, can I tell you something?” You lifted your head and turned to him.

“Anything.”

Gavi opens his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. 

Sign from the universe. If you weren’t around, he would’ve let out the loudest, most blood-curdling scream Spain had ever heard.

He hastily retrieved the device, unable to hide the sneer on his face. Whoever calling him must’ve been on the verge of death if they had to interrupt this critical moment. 

It was his sister. Gavi accepts the call, lifting his phone to his ear. “Hey.”

You can barely hear Aurora’s words through the speakers but deduced that she was asking about Gavi’s whereabouts, and by extension, yours. She was probably telling him to go home soon, and for good reason — it had to be at least 3 am at that point.

After muttering a quick goodbye, Gavi shoves his phone into his pocket at stands up. It was time for you two to leave. He extends his arm to help you get up, and you accept the gesture.

“I’ll see you around, okay?” You turn to part ways but was met with Gavi gripping your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

He looks at you, confused. “Whoa, where do you think you’re going?”

You stare back at him, unblinking. “Home?”

“You are not walking home alone at this hour. I’m walking you there.” Always so considerate of him. 

The walk to your house was less eventful than the walk earlier. You two were completely silent the whole way through. But it wasn’t the kind of silence that drove people crazy. Rather, unbeknownst to each other, you two were fighting with the most severe case of butterflies in your stomach, desperately trying to hide it.

Not long after, you arrived on your front steps. You were just about to bid your goodbyes when you remember the jacket still around your shoulders from earlier.

“Oh yeah, thanks for the jacket again,” you said as you removed it from your body. Seconds before you could hand it back, he pushes the bundle of clothing back to you.

“Keep it.” The words don’t help with the warm feeling bubbling in your abdomen.

“Thanks. I’ll take good care of it.” You pulled him into a hug before quickly pulling away, a blushing mess. You thank whoever decided to leave the area surrounding your house devoid of any light sources.

Before you were about to open your front door, you remembered the end of your conversation with Gavi. You turned around to see him kicking pebbles on the pavement.

“Hey, you said you wanted to tell me something earlier.” Gavi’s heart drops.

“Uh… don’t worry about it.” You tilt your head in confusion. There was something he was keeping from you. But then again, you were keeping things from him too.

“Alright then. Goodnight, Gav. Stay safe on the way home.” You can make out the faint silhouette of the boy giving you a thumbs-up before walking away.

You entered your house exhausted from the bar and your feet sore from the walk. When you made your way to your bedroom, you didn’t have the energy to change out of your clothes or remove your makeup. Instead, you simply tossed your shoes aside and collapsed onto the bed.

Feeling your eyelids flutter shut, you buried your face deeper into Gavi’s jacket, seeking some kind of warmth. The scent of his body fragrance floods your senses, as you fall into a deep slumber, dreaming about him through the night.

DECEMBER 27 — FOR TWO

Christmas was usually one of the busiest days of the year, but to Gavi, it was the few days following it that were worse.

The holidays were one of the rare (and possibly only) times everyone wasn’t burdened with work, uni, or other doings, so it had become a yearly ritual for his group of friends to venture on a getaway, even if it was just for a few days.

While the group had gone far to other cities or even other countries, this year they had opted to stay in the city, renting an Airbnb to hang out in. It might not be anything crazy, but Gavi always knew how to have fun as long as his friends were with him.

The Airbnb you rented boasted an impressive six bedrooms, complete with a pool and a yard. It was perfect for the six of you that would be present, providing you with enough facilities to keep you entertained for the next two nights.

The plan was for the group to drive to the house together, maybe spending some time in downtown Sevilla beforehand. The car had been rented and suitcases were packed, but the night before the trip you had to break some bad news to your friends.

[21:41] you: bad news guys

[21:41] you: i have to be on campus tmr morning

[21:42] ale: oh come on

[21:42] ale: you're telling us NOW

[21:42] you: ITS NOT LIKE I WANT TO BE THERE?

A paper you thought was due weeks from now was actually due in about 12 hours, and after trying your hardest to finish it in a few hours, you quickly realized how much you underestimated the weight of the assignment.

You could get the job done by around midnight, but you needed to get it printed and bound. It meant that you couldn’t use your home printer, and you would have to go to the campus printing lab which opened at 10 am. This did not flow well with the original plan of leaving with your friends two hours before, at 8 am. You tried your hardest to explain the situation to your friends, only to be met with their complaints.

[21:47] lu: cant you get someone else to print it?

[21:47] you: no u need to sign shit when you turn it in

[21:47] mateo: boooooooooooo

[21:47] you: ill just go by myself after i turn it in it’ll be fine

[21:48] lu: literally how. you cant go yourself and you know that

Lucia was right. The rented house was at least an hour's drive from your place, and you didn’t have a car to use. You can rule out ordering an Uber or a taxi as the price would go through the roof. Moreover, you were carrying a suitcase with you, so it was impossible to get there by public transport.

[21:49] you: fuck youre right

[21:50] lu: anyone wanna take one for the team and stay behind w y/n?

[21:50] lu: anyone w a car probably

[21:50] lu: oi losers [tagged alvaro, gavi, ale]

[21:51] mateo: alvaro is probably drunk out of his mind rn LMAO

[21:52] gavi: why did i get tagged

[21:52] lu: can you take y/n to the airbnb tomorrow?

Gavi. Since your little deep talk a few days ago, you hadn’t seen him in person again. When you woke up the morning after, you felt embarrassed, ashamed even of the emotions you felt the night before. It felt wrong to think about someone you had known for your whole life in that way. It was also incredibly stupid, given the level of fame Gavi was at, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a supermodel girlfriend he had hidden from everyone.

The good news was, in the four days that you weren’t together, you were able to sit down and process your thoughts. The butterflies had flown away after 48 hours, so you sat with the decision that it was just a small phase, nothing more. Thankfully, it was nothing more.

But now, with the possibility of meeting him again, a feeling brewed in your gut that something might happen between you both, despite your efforts to prevent it. You prayed that Gavi would tell Lucia he couldn’t make it, or perhaps Ale would be the one swooping in to help. But no one ever gets what they want in life, do they?

[21:55] gavi: yea sure

Damn it. So much for keeping your feelings in check.

You texted him privately afterward, coming to an agreement that he would pick you up from your house, take you to campus for you to turn in your assignment, and then drive to the Airbnb. It was fast, efficient, and ensured that neither of you would be making back-to-back trips. 

What the journey ahead would behold was something future you would have to worry about. Right now, current you needed to finish the rest of the paper and get in as much sleep as you could squeeze in.

Gavi arrived to pick you up at 10.45 the next morning. He helped you haul your suitcase into his car trunk, asking if you had brought your entire closet with how heavy it was. It was more surprising when you learned he only packed a gym bag’s worth of clothes for the trip.

“We’re gonna be stuck indoors for three days and you’re calling me crazy when you brought a whole ass suitcase?” The comment earned a slap on the shoulder from you.

After a quick 15-minute drive, you arrived on campus. Gavi dropped you off at the main lobby before leaving to find a place to park. He sends you off, telling you to text him when you’re finished.

The printing lab was empty when you stepped in, and it wasn’t far from the lecture hall where you needed to turn your paper in. The whole ordeal was done and dusted in half an hour, leaving you and Gavi plenty of time to catch up with your friends. You hope you two wouldn’t miss out on much. 

[11:36] you: im done

[11:36] you: walking to the main lobby rn

[11:38] angry bird 🦜: kk give me a minute

It took Gavi a few minutes before he pulled up to the lobby. At first, you assumed he parked quite far, which is why the journey took a while. However, it wasn’t when the car door opened and the smell of fast food wafted in your face that you discovered the truth.

“You got Mcdonald's? Seriously?” You sat in the passenger’s seat, shutting the door before you as you looked at Gavi, one hand on the steering wheel and a pack of fries in the other.

“It’s gonna be a long trip, so I thought we should get something to eat.” Gavi waits for you to put on the seatbelt before driving off.

“Oh yeah? How long?”

“An hour and 20 minutes.” You dug through the Mcdonald’s bag on the car floor, sifting through the brown paper bags for something to eat.

“You know what I always get at Mcdonald’s?” you proposed the question to him, striking up a conversation.

“Yeah. You get a quarter pounder with no mustard, extra pickles, potato wedges, and a coke,” he responds without missing a beat. You didn’t expect him to actually know. Once he stops speaking, your hands find a brown bag with the exact order inside. He had memorized your order and bought it for you. 

“...That’s exactly what I always get.” You pulled back the wrapper from the burger and took a bite. There’s that funny feeling again. You shake it off, sipping your coke.

The rest of the car trip involved singing Anuel AA and Myke Towers at the top of your lungs, you gossiping about your new friends at uni, and a long debate about whether or not Avatar was overrated. You’re lucky Gavi was a very different man off the pitch, as the heated conversation could’ve gone sideways very quickly.

The piece of food that sat on your lap went untouched for a long time — you were getting full. Looking at the boy in the driver’s seat, you wondered if Gavi wanted your leftovers. He usually did, anyway.

“Finish my burger for me?” You raised the small piece left, offering it to him.

He glances at you before looking back at the road. “I’m driving.”

“And?” You pushed it closer to his mouth, attempting to feed him yourself. Gavi nudges his shoulders to push you away, causing you to laugh at his antics.

“Y/N! Stop!” he reasons, but it doesn’t stop you.

“Say ahh!” After a few moments back and forth, Gavi gives in. He opens his mouth, letting you feed him like a child. You know he hated being treated like a baby, yet you couldn’t help but laugh when he pouts as he chews. He looked adorable doing it.

Wait a minute, adorable? No, you couldn’t say that about him. God, you needed to get it together.

One long drive later, he pulls up to the Airbnb. The house comes into view and you realize it looks bigger in person. The pictures didn’t do it any justice. You absolutely couldn’t wait for the next few days. Gavi parked the car in the driveway and you two finally step foot in the lavish house.

Alvaro, your mutual friend, greets you in the living room. The space was open with floor-to-ceiling windows, letting warm sunlight enter inside. There was a cluster of sofas in the center, facing a wide-screen TV set atop a fireplace. He had a drink in his hand, dressed in shorts.

“Took you bitches long enough,” he teased. “We couldn’t wait so we dived in the pool before you guys, sorry.” The sun had reached its peak at this time of day, and you were eager to dip in the cool waters.

“Find the empty bedroom upstairs, you guys can put your things there,” he continues. As you and Gavi made your way up the first few flights of stairs, Alvaro called out to you two.

“Oh yeah, wait!” You two turned around to face him in unison.

“The owner told us one of the bedrooms is off-limits because a pipe leaked, or something. And everyone already tagged a room, so…” Alvaro presses his palms together, and the look on his face lets you know what he was implying.

You had to share a room with Gavi.

“Uh…” Both of you could only glance at each other for a few moments at a time, avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

Gavi looked down at the boy below. “Is there, I don’t know, an extra bed?” 

“Oh yeah, maybe? I don’t know. I’ll text the owner. For now, just put your bags there first.” Alvaro leaves the living room to go outside. You head up the stairs and find the remaining bedroom, opening your suitcase.

It’s fine, Alvaro will text the owner and you’ll get an extra bed. Everything will be alright, you thought to yourself as you changed into your bathing suit in the bathroom. You push the thought out of your head, leaving to join your friends at the pool. 

You can’t remember the last time you felt this happy. The weight of school and life, in general, had burdened you for far too long, and now you had fully let loose. You and your friends had stayed in swimwear the whole day, switching between grilling food, playing video games on the TV, chasing each other around the property with water guns, and jumping off the second-floor balcony into the pool. 

Before you knew it, the sun had set, and the sky turned a bleeding color. The time had passed by like nothing, it always did every time you were around these guys. The ability they had to turn your worst days around, to erase every negative thought in your brain solely with their presence was exactly what you needed after a hectic past few months.

The night quickly turned cold and your friends were getting ready for bed. Seeing everyone starting to enter their room, you catch Alvaro in the kitchen and ask him for any updates on the bed situation. 

“Varo, did the owner say anything about the bed?”

“Oh… uhm.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking his messages. “Nothing. Didn’t even read it.”

You turned to look at the clock, it was midnight. The owner, whoever they were, was probably fast asleep at this point. Moreover, you were scared of coming across as pushy if you were to question them further. This was their property, anyway.

“I’ll ask again tomorrow.” 

It had been ten minutes since that conversation and now you were in the bedroom with Gavi. Fresh out of the shower, you were towel drying your hair as you sat cross-legged on the bed, while the boy opted to fumble around with his gym bag. There was clear tension in the room, and it materialized as an invisible brick wall wedged between you two. Neither of you had uttered a single word since entering the room.

Suddenly, Gavi gets up, grabbing a pillow from the bed. He marches to the door with it in hand, and just as his hands land on the doorknob you finally say something to him.

“Where are you going?” “Downstairs. I’ll sleep on the couch if there’s no extra bed.” The living room, as beautiful as it was during the day, was cold and bleak at night. It was probably still wet from the water gun fights from earlier, adding to the freezing temperature. You couldn’t let him sleep there.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch. It’s freezing,” you retaliated. “Well, if it means both of us can sleep alone, then I’ll do it. It’s only for one night, anyway.”

“I won’t let you.” You stood up from the bed and pushed him away from the door, locking it in the process. Gavi looks at your actions, stunned.

“Where am I supposed to sleep then?”

“On the bed.”

“And you?”

“I’ll manage on the floor,” you proposed.

“Absolutely not!”

“Why!? You wanted to sleep on the couch.” You two started bickering nonsensically, hoping your friends were deep in slumber.

“The couch and the floor are two very different things, genius.” “Fine, we’ll both take the bed! Happy?!” You froze at your words, instantly regretting even arguing with Gavi in the first place. You did not just offer the man you were having an internal battle about your feelings with to share a bed. To make things even worse, Gavi agreed.

You always thought this one-bed thing only happens in cheesy romcoms, yet here you were building a mountain of pillows in the middle of the bed to prevent your unconscious minds from moving you two closer. Gavi props himself up on his elbows, watching you intently.

“Do you have to do this?” he questions. You plop down on the bed, laying next to him. Or, the pillow mountain, you should say.

“I’ve watched enough movies to know what would happen if I don’t.”

“What? It’s not like we’ve never cuddled before.” Your head snaps in his direction, remembering the time when you woke up on his sofa together, bodies tangled.

“Hey, that was not my doing.” You hear Gavi mutter something under his breath before he moves the pillows out of the way. His face comes into view and you’re shocked to see just how small the distance was between you two. Nevertheless, you didn’t move away. You could get used to the view.

He rests his head on his hand, lying sideways to look at you. “You literally told me to stay when I tried to get up.”

“Only because you,...” your finger landed on his nose, and it scrunches at the contact. “...told me to stay the night before.”

Gavi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “No, I didn’t.”

“Are you seriously doubting my memory?”

“Yeah, actually.” You pushed him backward, causing him to lie flat on his back. Meanwhile, you prop yourself on your shoulders, flipping over on your belly.

“The night before that, you pulled me by the arm on top of you and asked me to stay.”

“And you didn’t refuse?”

“Not like you did either.” You had a point. Gavi’s eyes drift to the ceiling above him, placing his arms behind his head.

“Well, you asked me to stay. Did you not… want me to?” You couldn’t fathom a life without him.

“I always want you to be with me.”

Gavi could feel his heart rapidly thundering in his ribcage at your words. As he examines your face in the warm light of the room, all he can focus on is the twinkling in your pupils as you look down at him, and how much love floods his heart at the sight. Never breaking eye contact, you lie your cheek flat against the pillow.

So little, yet so much was spoken. There was a lingering feeling in the air that the two of you were restraining yourselves from saying or doing something, something that has been brewing for months. You two sat in silence, breathing in unison, twitching every so often as if to move, stopping midair before you could follow through. When Gavi finally builds up the courage to speak, the words he sounded weren’t the ones he expected.

“It’s getting late.” He reaches over you to turn off the nightstand on your side of the bed. As he lifts himself and extends his arm, his chest brushes against your face. Without a second thought, you nuzzle deeper into him, taking in the scent of his body wash. After the light goes out, Gavi doesn’t retract his arm back, instead dropping it over your waist, his hand landing on your lower back.

The last time you found yourselves in this position, you two were drunk and disoriented. This time, you were stone-cold sober. There was nothing to blame your actions on. But was it so wrong to be doing this?

Your eyelids flutter shut and your breathing slows as you slowly fell asleep. You can feel Gavi tug the sheets up to cover you two, further trapping you in the position. His nose finds its way to your scalp and you feel the air fanning your scalp. 

His warmth was engulfing you, your ear was pressed against his shirt, listening to his heartbeat, while his hand sends shockwaves up and down your spine as he slips his palm under your shirt. You’ve slept like this before. You don’t mind doing it again.

When Gavi woke up the next day, he checked his phone to find a text from Alvaro.

[09:08] alvaro: the owner just texted, he said theres no extra bed

[09:08] alvaro: you ok with that?

Gavi looks down to see your face buried in the crook of his neck, feeling the featherlight touch of your arms that slithered around his neck unconsciously during the night. He looks back to his phone to respond.

[09:09] gavi: i’ll be fine

The second and last night you would be staying at the Airbnb, you didn’t have to say anything when it was time to sleep. You simply got under the covers and waited patiently for Gavi to settle in next to you before turning off the lights. It felt like it was a normal part of your nightly routine.

When you arrived home two days later, lying in the comfort of your bedroom at night, you turned to the empty spot beside you. The bed felt half-full.

DECEMBER 31 — OVERDRIVE 

New Year’s Eve was synonymously known as a day of celebration and joy, but you couldn’t have had a worse day.

For starters, when you woke up this morning, you were greeted with a bright red stain spilling on your white sheets. The days leading up to the new year had been so hectic that you completely forgot your period would start today. Resentfully, you changed your sheets first thing in the morning, the action taking up too much energy for how early it was.

You shoved the bundle of cloth in your washing machine and went to turn it on, but it didn’t budge. You tried a few more times but it remained off even after your best attempts. There was no point in trying to wash the sheets by hand, so it meant a trip over to your neighborhood’s closest laundromat. 

Your first mistake of the day, you would soon learn.

Shortly after lunch, you arrived at the laundromat, sheets in hand. As you sat waiting for the machine to finish washing your sheets, a young man walked into the store, choosing to sit next to you out of all the empty seats available. You feel his eyes glued to you as you mindlessly scroll through your phone. It didn’t take long for the words to start coming out of his mouth.

You’re not from around here. What’s your name, bonita? It’s not often a young girl like you shows up around this part of town. Each sentence raises goosebumps on your skin — and not in a good way.

The last straw came when his palm landed on your bare thigh, quickly working its way up. You shove him away from you, maintaining your distance.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You loudly called out his disgusting actions in the middle of the laundromat, warning him to back off. The man starts sputtering nonsense back about how you shouldn’t get aggressive and how you were overreacting, only adding fuel to the fire.

“You can’t go around wearing that and get upset when people start touching you!” A hoodie and shorts. You were wearing a hoodie and shorts, and even if you wore anything else, that was not an invitation for his hands to land anywhere near you.

That was the final straw. You hastily pulled your sheets from the dryer, feeling your eyes well with tears in the process. The man continues to hurl insults in your direction, and the owner of the laundromat finally steps in to defuse the situation. You shoved the money on the counter and borderline ran out of the place as he shouts at you to never return.

It was the only time you took his words seriously.

Back home in the shower, you felt filthy. You aggressively scrubbed at your thighs with the loofah, hoping to eradicate any trace of him left. 

Later in the evening, you opened your laptop to go through your emails. You thought the mundane routine would be enough to take your mind off of this morning’s happenings. What you didn’t expect was that it would turn out to be the complete opposite, as your mouse lands on an angrily typed-out email from a college friend.

According to them, a recent group project involving you two received lower marks than they expected, and they felt the need to pin the blame on you. Your eyes darted across the screen, only skimming over the words — a few of which bore through your skull.

…I don’t know why it’s so difficult for you to just try and at least put in a little effort…

…I don’t care if this is how you do all your assignments, but this is a group project…

…You just never get anything right…

You sacrificed sleep for that project. You bailed on personal events to work on it alone. You gave it your all, sitting through your partner’s endless criticisms on early drafts. It’s funny how they have the nerve to accuse you of not putting in any effort when you clearly remember doing the majority of the work, while all they did was made small modifications.

The words came out of the screen and pierced you straight through the heart. Trembling fingers hovered over your keyboard as you struggled to respond. 

You find yourself typing and deleting sentences repeatedly, hovering between staying professional and feeling livid. Your brain was in too much of a frenzy to keep your emotions in check. The seething sensation you felt continued to build and build until you snapped, slamming the laptop shut and burying your head in your hands.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, you thought to yourself. Slowly but surely, your breathing collected, your heart rate slowed, and you began to calm down. You set down the laptop on your desk, vowing to keep it closed for the remainder of the day. 

After a quick bathroom trip to splash your face with water, you walked back into your room and dropped on the bed. You managed to take a peak at the clock on your wall; 6 pm. While you had made plans for a New Year’s party with your friends, midnight was still hours away, and all you could feel was the sleepiness consuming you.

Turning your phone off and setting it on the nightstand, you decide to take a quick nap. It was the least you could do to give yourself a break. 

You woke up to a stuffy, pitch-black room. You slowly lifted your head before jolting fully awake, scrambling to find your phone. The numbers glared back at you through the screen — it was 10.00 pm. The ‘quick nap’ you planned on taking had actually lasted almost five hours.

Below the clock, multiple notifications from your friends poured through, asking you about your whereabouts. You were supposed to be at Mateo’s house at this hour, getting ready to celebrate the new year. Instead, you were in clothes you use to sleep in every night.

[22:04] mateo: [tagged you] hello?? where are you?

[22:04] you: im here im here im here

[22:05] you: im omw i promise i had to deal with something first

You were, in fact, not on your way — rather you were hastily stripping off your clothes as you sat on your vanity, pulling out your makeup bag. You had less than two hours to get ready and be at Mateo’s place.

You had originally planned a glamorous look for the night, constructing the perfect outfit, hair, and makeup look, but you were racing against the clock. You decided to skip multiple steps in your routine and simplify your hairdo to help your case. As you ran your hair through the straightener for the nth time, you got another text from Mateo.

[22:23] mateo: oh yeah btw [tagged you] can you get grapes we’re running short

Mateo was talking about las doce uvas de la suerte of course, the Spanish tradition of eating twelve grapes at midnight for good luck. You’re pretty sure you have a fresh container in the fridge from your grocery shopping last week.

[22:24] you: yeah dw

After a 30-minute-long struggle, you were finally done getting ready. Shoving your belongings into a purse, you reached for the closest pair of shoes in your closet before stopping in the kitchen, retrieving the grapes. You know you’ll be met with endless complaints from your friends for being late, but hopefully, the grapes could somewhat make up for it.

The Uber ride to Mateo’s house consisted of you anxiously bouncing your leg to the point of cramping. You incessantly checked the time and watched as the time ticked up agonizingly slowly. When the driver took you to your destination, you could only mutter a quick ‘thank you’ before dashing out onto the street.

You could spot the fairy lights decorating the backyard from the distance, and the closer you stepped the louder the music resonated in your ears. Your friends, Mateo’s family members, and even his neighbors had gathered to celebrate.

Mateo emerged from inside the house and greeted you with a hug. “Took you long enough! We thought you’d never show up.”

You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, knowing you were so, so close to sleeping through the whole thing.

The boy looked you up and down and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Damn, you look like a mess,” he teased. 

You knew it was all in good fun — Mateo was always the jokester in the group. Despite this, you felt your veins throbbing in rage and your eyes getting hot. 

You had just gone through more than you can handle. It seemed like since the second you opened your eyes, nothing had gone your way. Something as seemingly trivial as a joke had pushed you over the edge, causing your blood to boil. 

“Enjoy your fucking grapes,” you sneered.

You shoved the container harshly against Mateo’s chest and he steps back at the impact. His eyes go wide at your sudden, out-of-character actions. The people in the yard watched as you stomped off the premises, jaw clenched and eyebrows lowered. Anyone could tell that you were fuming.

You had spent half an hour getting ready only to stay at the party for less than 2 minutes. The second Uber ride of the night was more depressing than the first. Your head was thrown back against the headrest as you stared at the car ceiling with dead eyes. You wanted nothing more than for the day to end.

Arriving home at your house, you gently shut the door behind you. The house remained in the same silent, dark condition it was in when you left not long ago. Your legs slowly carry you to the living room couch, letting your purse fall down your arms and onto the floor. Sinking onto the cushions, you sat alone in the gloomy space. You check the clock for one last time; 11.49 pm.

So, this was how you were spending New Year’s. Alone in the dark.

It was right at that moment when a series of rapid taps sounded against your front door, causing you to flinch in place. Who could be visiting you at this hour?

You swing the front door open to be met with a face you’ve seen a million times over. Gavi.

“Gavi,” you breathed out, no louder than a whisper. His gaze softens at the tone of your voice.

“Can I come in?” You nodded, stepping out of the way to let him in. You lead him to the living room, picking up your purse and placing it on the coffee table. You didn’t want him to think that you were on the verge of a breakdown not even five minutes ago.

“Why are you here?”

He sits next to you on the couch. “I heard something happened with you and Mateo.”

“Nothing happened. I was just, kinda pissed— not at him, but he was the unfortunate target.” You started to feel bad for the boy at that point and hoped he would be just as understanding as Gavi was. “He’s not hurt, is he?”

“No, no. He was more worried about you. We all were.” 

“How did you get here?”

“Oh, I drove.” Gavi pointed behind him as if pointing to his car. “Soon as I heard what happened I just tailed after you.” 

“Did they ask you to pick me up?”

“Do you want to go back?” The silence that followed lets him know that you didn’t want to. 

“That’s okay, that’s fine. Actually—” Gavi suddenly twists his body, digging in the pockets of his outfit. “If you’re planning on staying, I might as well give it to you now.” He searched his jacket and his shirt before feeling the back pocket of his pants and turning back to you. 

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands,” he instructs. You were hesitant at first but complied in the end.

You felt a small weight fall on your palms. “Open.”

Your eyelids fluttered open to the sight of a small gift box wrapped in a bowtie. Undoing the knot, you fumbled with the box before turning it upside down to reveal its contents, feeling Gavi’s eyes on you the whole time.

Two things fell out of the small box; a small folded note and another, smaller, velvet box. You examine the latter first, undoing the clasp to reveal a necklace gleaming in the dim moonlight. The piece of jewelry was gold in color with a thin bar of metal hanging from the middle. Upon closer inspection, you saw something engraving on the bar.

You picked up the necklace between your fingers, running them through the etches, unsure what was written.

“It’s the coordinates of my parents’ old house. Where we first met,” Gavi explains. The mention of the location brings back recollections of a sweaty nine-year-old Gavi, mud on his football kit, knocking on your front door to ask if he can take the ball he’d accidentally punted in your backyard. When you let the boy in, you would’ve never expected the bond you’d form for years to come.

A smile slowly appeared on your face as you fiddled with the necklace, rewinding the memories in your head. You moved to unravel the note next. The note was short, only containing wishes for you in the coming year, but it was the last sentence that stirred your emotions.

I’ll never shut up about how proud I am of you. You’re actually one of the best things that have ever happened to me. Happy New Year’s, stink •ᴗ•

After what you had endured from the moment you woke up, the thought that someone — Gavi, on top of that — told you they were proud of you and were one of the best things to ever happen to them was enough for your emotions to start stirring in your head, the first beads of tears dribbling down your heated cheeks.

Gavi didn’t even notice your crying until your silent sniffles grow louder and louder causing your body to droop. He wasn’t expecting you to react like this. At first, he thought he did something wrong. Was it a bad gift?

His arms encase your hunched frame, pulling your face closer to his chest. The feeling of his flesh under yours only made your sobbing worse. The items in your hand fell to the floor, tumbling on the carpet. “Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed, patting your back, letting you drench his dress shirt with tears. His outfit was the least of his concerns at that moment. “Don’t cry. Don’t cry.”

You don’t answer, pulling him in closer. He allows it.

Gavi cups your cheek in your hands, directing your gaze to look up at him. If you looked a mess at Mateo’s a few moments ago, you don’t know what you were now. Mascara staining your cheeks, eyes blown out and puffy, your nose bright red. Regardless, Gavi held steady eye contact with you, patiently waiting for you to calm down.

“I’m sorry,” you squeeze out in between inhales.

“No, no, no, don’t apologize. You have nothing to feel sorry for.”

“It’s just…” The back of your hand goes up to swipe your face dry. Gavi’s thumbs tenderly swipe underneath your eyelids, finishing the job for you. “...shit day. Nothing else.” You contemplated telling him the full story. But that was reserved for another time.

“Yeah?” he asked, looking back with puppy eyes. His other hand moves to brush the hair out of your face, running his fingers through your locks. You hummed in response and sat up straight, taking deep breaths to compose yourself. 

“Fuck, I need to get some water,” you said to yourself. Gavi leaps off the couch and borderline sprints to the kitchen.

“Sit down. I’ll get it for you.” He came back not long after, a water bottle in one hand and a box of tissues in the other. 

He remains silent as you blow your nose in the tissues and chug the contents of the bottle. He knows sometimes you don’t want someone to talk to when you’re sad, you just needed someone to be there with you.

“Sorry for getting your shirt wet.” Gavi breathes out, mumbling an it’s okay under his breath. He was tempted to ask about the series of events that led to your current state. Instead, he takes your hand in his and you almost melt into his touch.

You lean forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder and your heart rate finally slows. You can’t remember the last time you cried that hard, and now your head was throbbing, your eyes were dry, and your nose was stuffed. Gavi’s head leaning against yours helps you take your mind off the pain temporarily.

“Thanks for the gift. You have no idea how much it means to me.” 

You have no idea how much you mean to me, he thinks to himself.

“Did you…” you began to speak, “... really mean what you said in that note?” Gavi looks down to find you looking back up at him through your eyelashes.

“Every word.”

Your faces were now inches apart, the distance so small that you can feel each other’s breaths on your face. Your heart pounds like a drum in your chest, fast and hot in the anticipation of something — anything. It felt like you were on fire and you might spontaneously combust at any moment.

Gavi’s hand moves to cup your cheek again. His touches send a flood of adrenaline coursing through your veins. His head tilts to the side, and he pulls you in closer ever so slowly. You felt the soft brushing of his lips against yours, and that’s when a loud crackle erupts in the sky, brightening the entire room.

You and Gavi pull back from each other at the noise. Your heads snap in the direction of your window, watching as radiant colors decorate the pitch-black sky, leaving trails of makeshift stars behind.

The New Year had arrived.

The thundering of fireworks and whistles in the distance persisted for some time, as you and Gavi sit in awkward silence, breathing heavily. The universe is a douchebag, Gavi thought to himself. That was the closest he had ever gotten to releasing the stream of emotions he had locked away for months in his heart.

“Oh no!” you exclaimed suddenly.

“What?”

“We didn’t eat the grapes!”

Gavi almost scoffed at the sentence. Your faces were burning red and your hearts throbbed in your ribcages, but a cultural tradition was the most of your concerns.

“Well, here’s to twelve months of bad luck for us,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Together?”

“Together.”

JANUARY 2 — THE ONE TIME

Two weeks had never flown by faster for Gavi. Mentally, he’s still in his parent’s house for the first time in six months — he blinks, and now his train ride back to Barcelona is four hours away.

His mom had been blowing up his phone since he woke up. She had told him for the nth time that day to not forget his ticket, to make sure his ID was within easy reach and asked him repeatedly if he needed any food for the journey back home. He tuned out every message. His brain had been consumed by one thought, and one thought only.

The feeling of your lips on his. 

Even if it lasted for a millisecond, it drove Gavi to what seemed like insanity. When he bid his goodbyes, he sat in his car and stared at the steering wheel for fifteen minutes before he could drive off. When he washed his face that night, his fingers grazed over his lips to mimic the feeling. When he lay in bed, shutting his eyes to end the day, he was greeted with the memory of your face inches away from yours. He couldn’t escape you even in his dreams.

You, you, you. The thought had latched onto his senses and followed him the whole day. He looked at his living room sofa. You. He walked into the backyard and found fireworks boxes shoved in the dumpster. You. For the first time in his life, he took notice of how the fruit bowl in his parent’s kitchen contained grapes. You.

It was like the universe was taunting him at this point. It nudged him closer and closer to his heart’s desires at unfathomable speeds, only to materialize a brick wall blocking the way, smacking him in the face. 

It was even worse that neither of you had spoken to each other since. There was no good morning text, no voicemail, and nothing planned for you to do today. After all, it was his last day in Sevilla anyway.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe the universe actually knew best and was only trying to protect Gavi from having his heart torn into pieces. As he sits in the aftermath of his failed confession, he was convinced he had sent you flying the other way. He had gotten to the very position he swore against ending up in.

Meanwhile, you were experiencing the same distress he was going through. You couldn’t even step into your living room the next morning, avoiding it like a crime scene. You typed and deleted paragraphs of messages over and over, the words in the back of your mind but never successfully transferring to the screen.

You felt like it was now or never. Today was the day he would go home. With your uni and his football season starting soon, you weren’t sure when you’d see him again. You were horrified at the thought of Gavi thinking you didn’t want him just as badly, returning home hand-in-hand with a supermodel after moving on.

The two of you sat kilometers apart, an invisible string entwining your beating hearts.

Gavi bid his final goodbyes to his family members. He grabbed his belongings and went inside the car that would take him to the train station. Leaning his head against the window, he gazes at the views of the city one last time.

Then, the driver stops at a red light, and your house enters his field of vision.

The anxious feeling in his gut slowly reappeared as his legs instinctively bounced up and down. You were probably inside. He wonders what you were doing. At this time of day, you were usually getting your chores done.

He thinks to himself, does your heart beat the same way when you think of him? Do you feel the same fluttering sensation in your stomach when he gets close to you? Did you go through the same agonizing twelve hours as he did?

Gavi’s friends had all either texted or called goodbyes through the phone. All of them, except for you. And he wasn’t about to leave until you did the same.

It was like he lost total control of his body. In the middle of traffic, Gavi jolted out of his seat and walked out on the street, rapidly telling the driver he’ll be gone for a minute. In between car honks and angry cyclists, he pushes his way through the commotion and sprints to your front door.

He banged on the door, sweat dampening his collar from running. His hair was a disheveled mess. He had no big speech planned. All he needed was you. He doesn't care if you decide to slam the door in his face — he was seconds away from imploding. 

If the universe dared interrupted him then, he would fight it with his bare hands.

You opened the door nonchalantly. You weren’t expecting any guests, especially not Gavi.

“Gavi!” you greeted him. “Aren’t you supposed to be—”

“We need to talk.” The sentence wasn’t a suggestion. It was a demand.

For the third time that week, you found yourself alone in the living room with Gavi. Nothing good ever came out of situations like these.

You trailed shortly behind him as he walked into the living room, hands running through his hair. You had never seen him this distressed in your life. 

“Gavi, what’s going—” 

“I think we both know what’s going on.” Gavi takes a step closer to you.

Deep down, you did. You had been toying with the idea for months, but it had reached new heights last night. You should’ve known when you almost tried to kiss him, it wasn’t something you could just sweep under the rug. It would forever change your relationship with Gavi.

“Seriously, Y/N. I don’t think I need to spell it out. I’ve held it in for months, and it hurts everyday not being able to say it to your face.” Another step.

He watches as your expression remains unchanging. Your eyes darted across his face, avoiding his piercing stare.

“I’ve made it so clear that there isn’t anything in this world I wouldn’t do for you. And I’ve sat for months waiting for a response, for you to even notice.”

Months. He’d liked you for that long?

“What are you so afraid of?” his voice comes out breathy, almost desperate. He takes another step closer.

Sometimes you wish you could tell Gavi how much you hated him. How much you hated how you felt around him. You hated how he could bring out the depths of your heart that no one had ever seen. You hated how he would leave golden touches on all your aching wounds. You hated how easy it was to show your weakest sides to him.

He didn’t have to ask. You were already his, as he was already yours. And that fact left you petrified. It wasn’t the first time you had entrusted your heart in the hands of another, only for them to be the reason why it burst into a million pieces. 

But Gavi wasn’t just any other man. 

You finally build up the courage to look him right in the eye. He took half a step closer, standing apart from you at the shortest possible distance without coming into contact.

The recollections from the past week enter your thoughts as you gaze into the familiar hazel eyes. You tried one final time to suppress your true feelings, but it was getting increasingly difficult. Something inside you screamed to just let go. 

Your voice trembles as you speak. “I’m not sure what you want here.”

“You. I want you.”

You inched closer to him, lips hovering for a few seconds before they barely grazed against each other. Pushing the slightest bit closer, you softly pressed the kiss you had been dying for on his lips.

You pull away just enough to look him in the eye. “Gav— ”

Before you could finish speaking, Gavi’s palms cupped your neck, closing the gap between you. Your hands naturally land on his chest as he pulls you in even deeper, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

A million unspoken words were exchanged between the two of you. A million words telling him you felt the exact same way about him, how you wanted him just as badly. Gavi’s taste on your tongue was otherworldly, and it only makes you realize just how badly you’ve been waiting for this moment your entire life.

Your hands on his chest scrunched the material of his top, begging for more. You felt Gavi’s fingers trail down your spine, running his palms over your figure before landing on your hips. Before you knew it, your back came in contact with one of the cold walls of the room.

If it wasn’t for Gavi’s hips on your waist, you would’ve sunk to your knees. Trails of fire ran up and down your skin as your breath passionately huffed into each other’s mouths, hands grabbing at anything they could to pull each other closer.

With one final drawn-out kiss, you pulled away from each other, foreheads resting and eyes still closed. Your jaws were slightly agape, processing the encounter.

Slowly, your eyelids flutter open and your vision clears. You almost had to pinch yourself to convince yourself that this was not one of your many dreams about Gavi — this was real life.

Your right palm comes up to cup his cheek and he melts into your touch. Breathless, you smiled up at him softly before you spoke.

“Didn’t take you for a great kisser, Gavira,” you teased. He flashes a smug grin in response.

“Why, thank-”

“Better than I even imagined.” You cut him off, silencing him with another peck. You had finally learned to let go.

MARCH 17 — EPILOGUE

“Gavi! Let me change in peace,” you said in between giggles as the boy continued to bury his nose deeper in the crook of your neck.

“But you’ve been changing for hours now,” he complained, pacing in circles in the closet of your apartment in Barcelona.

“Hey, it’s my birthday so I’m the one in charge here,” you retorted, flipping through your selection of dresses.

It seemed like Gavi was finally getting bored of tormenting you all day as he left you alone to make your choice. He peeked over your shoulder to get a good view of the selection, watching your movements attentively.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots an all too familiar garnet-colored dress.

“What about that one?” He points to it, his arm going over your shoulder. Taking the hanger in your hands, you lifted the dress so Gavi could get a better look.

“What, this one?” Gavi hums in agreement.

“I wore this last year, I can’t wear it again. Especially not on my birthday.” You returned the item of clothing to your wardrobe before comparing different outfits again.

“Which is exactly why I want you to wear it.”

“And why is that?”

“Because seeing you in that dress last year was the very first time I realized I loved you.” Your head turns in his direction, disbelief splattered across your face.

“You’re joking.”

“Am not! You should’ve seen the way you looked in that dress. Who wouldn’t start falling head over heels for you,” he spoke as he leaned into your ear.

“God, I never took you for such a cornball before we started dating.” Giggling at his comments, you held his face in your hands, pinching his cheeks.

“But you love me.”

You spin around to look at him, your fingertip landing on his nose. “I tolerate you.”

“Hm, last night didn’t seem like just tolerating to me- Ouch!” A playful slap landed on Gavi’s right shoulder. His hand goes to rub over the affected area. You laughed at his reactions, and the devious look in his eyes shows that he had something up his sleeve.

Suddenly, his hands grab your waist and he throws you over his shoulders, causing you to yelp.

“Oh my god! Put me down!” You tried to jerk out of his grip to no avail. The youngster marched into your bedroom and plopped you down on the bed. He planted his hands on either side of you, trapping you beneath him.

Gavi’s fingers poke at the sides of your body and you instantly knew what he had been planning all along.

“Stop! That tickles!” you laughed uncontrollably, wriggling under his touch as he giggles along to your reactions. “Gavi!”

“I won’t stop until you say it!”

“Okay, okay! Please!” He gets in a few more pokes before leaving you free. You had to catch your breath for a few seconds, chest heaving from laughing so hard.

You grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him in just close enough so that the tip of your noses brushed against each other.

Gavi could see the way your glossy eyes glimmered under the room lights, the way you looked up at him through your eyelashes. 

“I love you,” you breathed out, pulling him in.

[imaginedisish]

Pink in the Night (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hi everyone! Here is the requested fic! Although, I think I may have gotten entirely carried away, so requester...if this isn’t what you had in mind, feel free to submit another request! I based a lot of it on “Pink in the Night” by Mitski (I love Mitski sm), and I quote it throughout the piece. I really hope you guys enjoy this one. I really loved writing it! Request some more!!! (And lmk if this is something that deserves a part 2)

Summary: You and Mando have the same routine every night...until a life threatening situation alters your course (major mutual pining!!).

Warnings: Violence, angst, mentions of death, hostage situation (somewhat), disgustingly written bad guy, lazy writing where I pretend the Razor Crest still exists, probably a grammar mistake or two...that should be it?

Word Count: 2,917

You and Mando had the same routine every night. You’d crawl into the tiny bunker of the Razor Crest, and he’d slip in right next to you. You two would sit in silence for a few minutes. It was never an awkward silence; it was comfortable, warm and appreciative. You and Mando didn’t need words to communicate with each other. They were unnecessary. You knew him like the back of your hand, and despite his metallic, rigid appearance and occasional curtness, he knew you even better. 

He wasn’t planning on letting you know that any time soon, though. 

If the day had led to an intense, life threatening mission or some sort of terrifying conflict, he’d slip a hand over your waist and pull you closer to him. The lights were always off, the darkness wrapping around your eyes, ensuring that Mando could take his helmet off — not that you would ever look. Still, you were thankful for the darkness. His touch, no matter how familiar it was, made your cheeks glow pink each night. His fingers brushing against your stomach, drawing small, yet intricate patterns on your exposed skin. It made your heart break. 

Before you fall asleep, he always says something you never understand. It was Mando’a, and he continuously refused to tell you what it meant. 

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” He whispers, his unmodulated voice repeating itself in your head. 

“Come on, tell me what it means this time,” You hopelessly beg. 

You feel his nose move against your hair, his head shaking side to side. You didn’t realize how close his face was to you. “No,” He whispers again, much to your dismay. 

You never pried, you simply waited until he’d say it again. You figured that maybe he’d change his mind between then and the last time he said it. 

He never did. 

But something about tonight felt different, incredibly off. Something was wrong. He had stepped outside 15 minutes ago. He said he’d be right back. It was dark, and Nevarro certainly wasn’t the safest place. 

You were already especially on edge after today’s hunt. You were tasked with hunting Valin Ninx, a well known leader of a speeder gang on Nevarro. There was a hefty price on his head, more than enough credits for you, Mando and the kid to get away for a while. It was funny to you, using those three things in the same sentence. It sounded oddly close to a family, a concept you weren’t too familiar with. It felt nice to think of it that way, but it meant you had something to lose. 

And Valin knew that all too well. 

You had to go with the gutsy choice, as always. You thought you could hack the security system, forcing the defense droids to break down. You didn’t consider the fact that the system was specifically rigged for this exact instance. 

“Sh-shit,” You mutter to yourself, alarms sounding, red lights flashing. “I messed up. I didn’t do it right.” It was a stupid mistake. It could’ve been easily avoided had you disengaged the protection system. “I-I didn’t do it right,” You stutter hopelessly, blinking away at the tears stinging your eyes. Mando rushes over to you. 

“Kriff. We need to get out of here,” He says, grabbing your shoulders. He sees the tears welling up in your eyes. “Don’t cry, come on.” His voice is too calm, too generous. You just gave away your location, completely blew your cover, and he’s trying to make you feel better.

“I-I’m sorry,” You blubber. You don’t know where this is coming from. You’re a bounty hunter, after all. You’re supposed to be soulless, crass, crude, unrelenting. But no, you were a pile a mush crying on a Mandalorian’s shoulder. You put the people you cared about most at risk. You could never forgive yourself for this.

“Don’t worry, cyar’ika,” Mando said, stepping towards you. You look down at the child, who’s comfortably slung against his chest. “Let’s just go. Forget this one, okay?” You nod in response, unable to form any words as you let him guide you by the arm. 

But the second you reach the door, you’re met with a slew of armed guards. You and Mando grabbed your blasters, defending each other as best as you could. But despite the fight you two put up, it was no use. 

“We’ll make a deal,” Valin seethes through his yellow, stained teeth. He has a knife to Mando’s throat, his men’s blasters aiming at you. Mando clutches the child to his chest, trying to unstrap his carrier to let him run off to safety. Valin’s men grab Mando’s arms in response, leaving Grogu defenseless. This is all your fault. 

Valin spits as he talks. “Give me the girl, and I’ll spare you and that little…” He trails off, looking towards Grogu, “Green shit you care so much about.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” You shout. Valin cackles, his crow-like scowl bouncing off the metallic walls of the room. 

He lets Mando go for a second, handing him off to one of the guards. Valin walks towards you, licking his lips. “You’ve got moxie,” He says, bringing his hand up to brush your cheek. You flinch, scrunching up your nose, trying to deflect his touch. “But this is no time to play hero, sweetheart.” You cringe at his use of the word.

“Get your hands off of her,” Mando commands. 

Valin grips your chin before letting go. His skin is the same yellow as his teeth. His wide, rounded eyes are as black as a sarlacc pit. He turns to face Mando. “So I guess our deal is off the table then, Mandalorian?”

Mando scoffs. “It was never on the table, Valin.” 

You shoot your eyes up to meet Mando’s visor. You wanted him to take the deal, to protect himself and Grogu. You wanted him to make it out of here, to keep living. You didn’t care about what happened to you. The galaxy doesn’t need you, it needs Mando and the kid. 

“T-take the deal, Mando,” You plead, stumbling around your words. 

He shakes his head. “No.” His voice is certain, unwavering. “I’m not leaving you to die alone.”

“Why not?” You ask, anger ever present in your voice. You wanted nothing more than for him to get out of here. 

“Because,” He pauses briefly, “This is the Way.” Something inside of you tells you that there’s a small smile under his helmet, despite not being able to see it. It’s not a happy smile, but a smile that says, ‘I’m going down with the ship.’ It’s bittersweet, and it’s not at all what you wanted.

Valin scoffs. “Aw, they want to die together!” Sarcasm sears his voice, a fake smile spreading across his face. “Good,” His chapped purple lips press together. “Let them.” He shoves Mando towards you, the guards circling you now. They aim their blasters at you. 

Mando looks at you as Grogu presses himself against Mando’s chest. 

“Fire at will, boys,” Valin says. All at once, you hear the sound of triggers being pulled and blasters firing. You shut your eyes tightly, ready to accept the end.

Then, out of nothing, something tells you to stick your hands out. It’s like a whisper, a prayer, a ghost. Whatever it is, you listen. A feeling unlike anything you’ve ever felt before pulses from your finger tips. It isn’t until you hear the gasping of a guard that you realize you aren’t dead yet. In fact, nothing hit you to begin with. You pry open your eyes. 

Lasers dance around you, the bright red bolts of light moving rapidly in place. The guards are beyond confused. Your palms are splayed out, and you can feel your pulse quickening. You look down at Grogu, who’s in the same position as you, except he’s facing the guards on the other side. 

You suddenly feel an immense pressure, as if the lasers have some astronomical weight. You take a deep breath, and instinctively push your palms out against the lasers. Grogu does the same. The lasers fly off towards the guards, striking each one. Even Valin is struck in the cross fire.

“Maker,” Mando whispers. “You and the little guy should do that more often.” 

Everything ended up fine. You captured Valin, brought him to the crime lord who wanted him dead, and got your credits. It wasn’t worth your trouble, put it was enough credits to keep you out of more trouble for a while. 

Still, whatever happened back there left you with far more questions than you had bargained for. Mando would seriously rather die with you than save himself? You have abilities like the kid…or you suppose, like a Jedi? There was one thing you were absolutely certain of, however: You were never going to put Mando in that sort of situation ever again. 

And so, when he was taking just a bit too long outside, doing whatever it was he was doing, you decided to go after him. You climb out of the bunker, checking that Grogu is still sleeping before heading outside.

“Mando?” You call out. It’s pitch black, save the light coming from the ship. 

There’s a brief, heart-attack-inducing silence before you hear the familiar, modulated voice coming from the left side of the ship. “Over here.” His response immediately calms you down. 

You walk around the side of the Razor Crest until you stop right next to him. He’s just working on something. You allow yourself to relax. “You alright?” You ask, staring up at his visor. His beskar glows in the moonlight.

“I’m fine, just fixing some things before we take off,” He says, finishing up. He closes a compartment, brushes off his hands and faces you. “Are you okay?” His voice is calm and collected, concerned even. He takes a few steps towards you. “You seem pretty shaken up.” 

You didn’t deserve his kindness. You didn’t deserve the way his hand travels up your arm, resting on your elbow. You didn’t deserve the way his thumb made faint, tiny circles on your bare skin. What happened today was your fault and no one else's. You’re lucky whatever was inside of you chose to wake itself up in that moment. If it hadn’t, you might all be bantha fodder by now. 

A chill rolls down your spine as a gust of wind flows through you like a spirit. It pushes you closer to Mando, stumbling over yourself in the process. He catches you before you can fall, holding you for a second or two longer than he needed to. He brings you back to your feet, his hands remaining firmly clasped on your shoulders to ensure you’ve got your balance back. He gives them a light squeeze before finally letting go. You feel cold at the sudden loss of touch. 

“I don’t think you’re okay,” He says softly. He grabs you by the hand, leading you back towards the entrance of the ship. “I’ll set the coordinates. You get in the bunker and I’ll meet you there in just a minute.” His voice is like honey, smooth and sweet. It calms your rapidly running brain, reminding you that everything is okay, that nothing can hurt you now. You nod in response, Mando letting go of your arm as you go off towards the bunker. You catch a quick glance at the back of him as you walk away. 

I could stare at your back all day.

You make your way to the bunker. It’s cold and empty without Mando there. You look over at Grogu, who’s still silently sleeping. You sit down on the edge of the cot, waiting for Mando to come in. 

Not even a minute passes by before the ship is lifted in the air and Mando finds his way to the bunker. He doesn’t turn off the lights like he normally does. Instead, he sits down next to you on the cot. His visor meets your eyes, and your heart flutters carelessly in your chest. 

Mando brings his hand up to rest on your knee, the warmth of his touch overwhelming your senses. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, mesh’la?” He asks softly. That’s a new one, You think to yourself. You definitely hadn’t heard that one before. Mesh’la. You replay it over and over again in your head. You try to remember how he said it, the pronunciation becoming foggy in your brain as your thoughts are clouded by the feeling of his fingers brushing against the edge of your inner thigh.

“What does that one mean?” You decide to ask, your voice is quiet and frail, it’s volume barely reaching above a whisper. “Mesh’la?” You repeat the word, surprisingly getting the pronunciation correct. 

He inhales deeply. “It means beautiful,” He says. His voice isn’t as confident anymore. It’s just as quiet and nervous as yours. You had never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so open. You can’t help but smile. You’re sure he doesn’t mean it the way you want him to. He means it as a term of endearment, a way to comfort you. “So, mesh’la, what’s wrong.” The way he says it the second time makes you think that maybe, just maybe, he’s saying it because he means it. 

“I almost lost you and Grogu today,” You say, sadness engulfing your voice entirely. 

“I know,” He swallows harshly through his helmet. I almost lost you too,” He returns. “I wasn’t going to let you sacrifice yourself just for me. I don’t deserve that. I’m not worth that much.” You’re shocked at his inflection: Just for me. He’s not worth that much?

“You’re crazy” You pause, shaking your head. “I’d give my life for you any day of the year. I’d travel parsecs upon parsecs just for you. Grogu too, of course,” You nod towards the sleepy little guy. 

There’s a short silence. You can tell that Mando is deep in thought, thinking about something important. You wish you knew what was going through his head. He mutters something incoherent and shifts his body slightly to face you better. 

“You tried to give your life for me today,” He says, his breath hitching in his throat. “So I want to give you something too.” 

You look off in disapproval. “You don’t owe me anything, Mando,” Your voice is stern. Your eyes float back to his visor.

“I don’t want you to call me that anymore,” His voice is stronger now, too. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

Din Djarin. 

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. 

His name was something private, hidden, secretive. He never told you what is was when you had first introduced yourselves to each other, and so you never had the courage to ask. It felt illegal to know his name, and yet satisfying at the very same time. He had just given you a part of himself, a part that other people would never know. 

You don’t know what to say next. The thoughts escape your brain. Din catches on quickly, and decides to continue. 

“There’s something else, too, cyar’ika,” He says, his gloved hand now moving up to your cheek, cupping it carefully, his thumb brushing softly against your warm skin. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

There’s a pause, a quiet tension filling the air. You know that sentence like the back of your hand, and yet you still don’t know what it means.

“I love you,” He whispers. “It means I love you.” 

Almost every night, for months, Din had been whispering I love you, over and over again in your ear. 

It's like a summer shower

With every drop of rain singing

I love you, I love you, I love you

I love you, I love you, I love you

“I love you too, Din,” You say back immediately. You’re absolutely starstruck. Those were the words you had been waiting to hear since your very first month with him, maybe even your very first day.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the hissing of air. You watch as Din lifts his helmet. You grab onto his wrists. “What are you doing? You practically yell. 

“Just trust me,” He pleads. His helmet is lifted enough so that you can see his red lips stretch into a smile. 

“Are you sure?” You ask apprehensively. 

“I’ve never been more sure about anything,” He responds. You’re mesmerized by the way the words fall from his perfect lips. You let go of his wrists and he continues to pull his helmet off. 

His hair is dark brown and curly. His hooded eyes are just as dark as his hair. He’s beautiful, more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. 

He slips off his gloves and grabs your cheeks in his hands, pressing your face closer to his until your foreheads brush against one another’s. “I should’ve done this a long, long time ago.” 

He crashes his lips against yours. The kiss could melt planets, galaxies even. It’s hungry…no, it’s starved. Your lips meld together like liquid beskar, like this was always meant to be. 

And it was always meant to be. 

And I know I've kissed you before, but

I didn't do it right

Can I try again, try again, try again

Try again, and again, and again

And again, and again, and again

[alcinadimitrescuwu]

Welcome to the Family, Boy (Alcina x Fem!Reader Fanfic)

First thank you all for your support for my first Dimitrescu fanfic. I truly appreciate it and all the support this community has given me on. Let's go on to the next one, shall we?

Premise: After a long and stressful week, your wife Alcina wants to help you let off some steam. However, your amorous activities are cut short by an unexpected surprise.

Warning: blood. There are some steamy scenes in here but nothing explicit, so it's mostly safe for work.

As you climb the stairs to your bedroom, you heave a great sigh. It’s been a long and stressful week. Daniela had caused a small fire in the wine cellar basement by knocking over a lantern when she had gotten a little too eager for a feeding. It was eventually put out, but the corpse was burned in the process. Alcina had been furious at the waste of resources. It had taken a full day to get rid of the ash, but the basement was clean. Well, as clean as it could be. Aside from the wine cellar, Alcina didn’t seem to care much about cleaning up the basement. Well, it was over now. Now you just couldn’t wait to curl up next to your wife and get a good sleep.

You arrive at your doorway and hear Maria Callas singing “Casta Diva” from within. You smile. Your mutual love for opera was one of the first things you discussed as you were courting. Before you reach your hand to knock at the door, you hear Alcina call, “Is that you iubirea mea?”

“Yes, dear,” you reply. You stretch your arms behind your head. “Oh, I just can’t wait to get into bed-” Your voice cuts off as you see what your wife is wearing. She is wearing a black peignoir and as she stands up, she casts it off to reveal a black and red lingerie set.

She smiles wickedly. “I can’t wait to get into bed with you either.”

You don’t move. You can only stare. Her scarlet lips match the exact shade of the lingerie. Without any sleeves, you see her muscular arms and you blush as you recall what those arms feel like wrapped around you. Her legs are on full display as well with a red stocking clipped to a garter. They reach up to your shoulders and you have spent many a time nestled in them with your head on her lap. You open your mouth to reply but find nothing coming out.

Alcina pouts and puts one hand behind her on the bed. “Come, pet,” she purrs, beckoning you with a red fingernail. “You’re not going to stand there all day, are you?”

You don’t say anything. You cross the space between you and your wife in three steps and launch yourself over into her waiting arms. The scent of her perfume is overwhelming and you breathe it in. You close your eyes and kiss her chin, her laugh lines and finally her lips. She laughs through the kiss and holds your head between her hands. “Well, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Don’t talk,” you rasp, your voice full of desire.

She smiles. “All right, draga mea. No talking then.” She kisses you deeply and you weave your hands through her locks.

She picks you up and carries you across the room, kissing all the while until you reach the wall. You lean your head on the wall behind you and wrap your legs around her waist. “I’ve needed this, my love,” you whisper against her lips.

Ding dong!

You hear the doorbell resound through the castle. You break the kiss and fix her with a quizzical expression. “Were you expecting anyone?” you ask.

She shakes her head quickly. “No. Could be a solicitor. Could be a vampire hunter coming to put a stake in all our hearts.” Her golden eyes are glazed over with desire. “Right now I couldn’t care less at the moment.” She nuzzles your neck and you sigh. She breaks away and looks at you, an unasked question in her eyes. She’s hungry. You nod your consent and she pulls away your nightgown to bear your neck and shoulders. She pulls you close and bites your neck and feeds on the blood pooling around your neck. You feel her neck working against your chest as she drinks. You take pleasure in every gasp and moan she makes. You feel pleasantly light-headed by the time she pulls away with a satisfied sigh.

Ding dong!

Alcina groans and bares her teeth in anger. “It’s getting too late for this!”

You caress her jaw. “Dear, maybe we should answer it. It could be an emergency.”

She shakes her head impatiently. “It’s probably some snot-nosed kid playing a prank.” She lifts your chin with a finger and gives you a seductive grin. “Don’t focus on it right now, pet. Right now is about you and me.”

“You’re probably right-” She stops the rest of your sentence with a rough kiss, opening your mouth with her tongue. Her hand travels up your leg and her hand making contact against your bare leg gives you a pleasant chill. Her hand rests on your thigh and she pushes you up against the wall again while using her nimble fingers to unhook your garter.

Ding dong! Ding dong! Ding dong!

Alcina gives a frustrated growl. “Damn it to hell!”

“Darling,” you say gently petting her arm as a signal to set you down. “If it were kids, they’d be bored and have gone home by now. I’m going to check who it is.”

Your wife crosses her arms and gives an adorable pout. “Fine. Do what you want.”

You adjust your nightgown and wipe any leftover blood and lipstick off your neck. As you walk to the door, Alcina gently puts your dressing gown around your shoulders. You catch her hand and give it a kiss. “I’ll be with you shortly. I just need to get dressed.”

You smile at her. “Very well, darling.” As you turn to leave the door, Alcina catches your shoulder and whispers huskily, “And after we get back, we will most certainly get back the lost time that nuisance has stolen from us.”

You blush furiously and kiss her goodbye. As you walk down the stairs, you hear the doorbell ring again. Once, twice, three times. “Yeah yeah, I’m coming. I’m coming.” You grasp the brass handles and with a great effort manage to open the doors wide. You’re jealous of Alcina in moments like these. She could open the doors with such ease that you forget that each door weighed hundreds of pounds.

You are surprised to see Heisenberg holding something wrapped in cloth. You can’t help but smile when you see Heisenberg. Heisenberg and Alcina may be like oil and water, but the two of you liked each other almost instantly. He told you once that “anyone who could put up with that bitch for more than 20 seconds must be a good person. And you have to put up with her for life!”

Heisenberg returns your smile. “Hi, hon.”

“Hi Karl. How about you come in and warm up with a nice cup of tea?” You stand aside to allow him in. “Come on. It’s freezing out there.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, honey, but I really can’t stay long. Is your ball and chain around? This question concerns her too.”

“Heisenberg,” you hear your wife’s drawl. You both look to see her descending the stairs. There is no evidence of your amorous activities as she has on a fresh coat of lipstick, is fully dressed and her hair is pinned perfectly in place under her hat. “To what do I owe this rather unpleasant surprise?”

Heisenberg clenches his teeth. “Believe me, I wouldn’t come here unless it was an emergency.”

“Then what is it?” Alcina asks as she puts her left hand on your shoulder. You reach up to cover it with your own. “Out with it, and be on your way. Some of us would rather be in bed right now.”

Heisenberg notes your kiss-swollen lips and a hickey already starting to form on your neck. “Yes, I suppose some of us rather would.”

Alcina’s eyes flash and she grits her teeth. “Heisenberg, I swear-”

Heisenberg puts up a placating hand while he holds the bundle with his other. “Ok, ok. I’ll cut to the chase then. Sheesh, do you have any sense of humor?” He unwraps the bundle to reveal a mewling French bulldog. It can’t be more than a couple weeks old.

As you place your hand on your heart Heisenberg continues. “I found him outside of his house. Whole damned family was slaughtered. He needs a place to stay. I thought this might be the best place for him.”

You look at your wife with pleading eyes, but she gives a sharp, “No.”

“Darling-”

“No.” She glares at Heisenberg. “Why can’t you take him in? Maybe it would be an opportunity for you to learn some responsibility for once in your cursed existence.”

You see Heisenberg roll his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Yes, and I’d be responsible for him being torn apart by Lycans. I’m not taking him in. It’s not safe for him there.”

You take your wife’s hand in yours. “Darling, please reconsider. We can’t turn the poor thing away. Besides, our daughters would love having a d-”

She immediately puts a hand over your mouth. “Don’t say it,” she warns, looking furtively around the foyer.

“What?” you ask against her hand. “Dog?”

Almost immediately your daughters, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela materialize from their fly shrouds. They zero in on the dog and Cassandra takes him out of Heisenberg’s hands and the other two crowd around her and begin cooing to it, and letting it sniff and lick their fingers.

Alcina covers her face with her hands. “Now you’ve done it, love.”

The girls look up from their ministrations to the dog and as one rush over to your wife, carrying the dog over with them. They begin speaking up all at once. “Mother, please can we keep him?” “Mother, look how cute he is!” “Mother, Cassandra’s been hogging the dog all this time and it’s my turn to hold him!”

“Enough!” Alcina’s voice booms around the foyer. She puts two fingers in the space between her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. She sighs aloud. “God, I need a smoke.” She turns to her daughters and with a long suffering sigh says, “Fine. We’ll keep the little mongrel.”

All three daughters erupt into cheers and you can’t help but smile indulgently at them. Daniela runs over and throws her arms around your neck in jubilation. “Maman, did you hear that? We get to have a dog finally!”

“Yes, dearest, I did hear that.” You drop a kiss on her head and she scampers over to take the dog which Cassandra begrudgingly hands to her.

Heisenberg grins and reaches in his pocket. “I have some food and a water bottle for him,” he says, handing you the aforementioned items. “The Duke should have some more, but that’s all I have right now.”

“Thank you Karl,” you say, reaching over to scratch the dog behind his ears. “We’ll take good care of it, won’t we girls?”

“Yes, Maman!” they all answer in unison.

“I’ll be off then!” Heisenberg turns to leave but not before shouting over his shoulder, “And I think he should fit in pretty nicely around here, especially since the Lady of the House is such a bi-”

In an instant, Alcina has him off the ground and has her claws extended only a few inches from his neck. “Heisenberg, did you want to finish that sentence?” she asks sweetly.

You can’t help but laugh. “Let him down, my love. It’s not worth getting so riled up this late at night”

“Fine,” she says and sets him down not too gently. He brushes himself off and glares at Alcina for the rough landing. She just flashes a smile and you notice that only her middle finger is extended in claw form. You look at your daughters, but they are too busy with the dog to notice the obscene hand gesture.

“All right, this time I’m really off.” he says, turning around and walking towards the castle gates.

“Girls, what do you say?” you prompt.

“Thank you, Uncle Karl!” they chorus. Bela snatches the dog and runs upstairs, vanishing in her bug shroud. The girls run after her, Daniela yelling down the hall, “No fair! I wasn’t finished with him yet!”

Alcina closes the doors and leans against them, sighing. “I just hope this wasn’t a mistake.”

You take her hand and kiss it. “Nothing we can do about it now, my love. Come on, let’s go to bed. It’s getting late.” The two of you hold hands and once you arrive at your shared bedroom, Alcina immediately locks the door, pulls you close and fixes you with a wolfish grin. “Now where were we, draga mea?”

“I thought you said you wanted to smoke first?” You laugh and wrap your arms around her neck.

“Ah, iubirea mea,” she say picking you up again and giving you a sloppy kiss. “Cigarettes always taste better after sex.”

You kiss her as you unbutton her dress and she puts her hand in the same spot on your thigh as before, this time successfully unhooking your garter. You bite her lip playfully and she gives a little growl of pleasure.

The moment is interrupted by a knock on the door and you hear Daniela’s voice, “Mother? Maman? The dog peed all over the carpet in Bela’s room!”

“Only because you led him there!” you hear Bela retort.

Alcina leans her forehead against yours and starts swearing in Romanian. You give her a kiss and pat her hand before you see to your daughters.

[enhypia]

JS ; exes

exes answers questions with the choice of drinking instead of answering

pairings: park jongseong x gn!reader

genre: angst, mild fluff

words: roughly 1.7k

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

~guides and warnings~

italics - reader speaking

bold - jay speaking

[enclosed] - interviewer speaking

italicized bold - both reader and jay speaking

[enclosed bold or italics] - question (depends on who's speaking)

heavily inspired by: rec.create lie detector games, cut truth or drink

warning: contains and mentions of !!! drinking, swearing, neglect, breaking up

i don't promote underage drinking, save your livers

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello, i'm (y/n)

and i'm jay

we're (awkward eye contact)

uhh we're exes

[you guys were invited here today as exes for a fun little drinking game, you guys were aware of that right?]

yes

yup

*interviewer shuffles awkwardly

sorry it's just, our friends were the ones who signed up for us

yeah, we just found out about it three days ago

[but are you guys still okay with doing this?]

we're okay

just give us a few minutes to get used to environment

*(y/n) chuckles

[okay, for this game, questions will be asked and if you refuse to answer, you drink, it's that simple. are you guys ready? should we start?]

*jay nods

ready as i'll ever be

[how long were you guys together?]

we were together for almost 3 years

[how long have you guys been broken up?]

about a year and a half now

[who broke up with who?]

i did they did

[why did you break up with him?]

so this was all a year and a half ago okay? no coming for jay, he's grown, we've grown

thanks?

you're welcome

*jay laughs

uhh.. it just really reached a point where i felt neglected in a way? and it was just tiring? i kept thinking 'do i deserve this treatment?' and i hated that i was doubting everything, including his feelings. so i just said let's talk about it and then yeah we split up

*jay drinks and (y/n) laughs

sorry sorry

nah i just needed that

[okay, how about we officially start the q&a portion between the of you now?]

*both nod and played rock paper and scissors to determine who gets to ask first, jay wins

*he picks up a card and facepalms after seeing the question

goddamn

should i be scared?

not sure, but you might opt to drink though

[do you blame me for what happened to us?]

oh my god *(y/n) laughs

i know right

so we're unpacking emotions today? okay noted

you can just drink if you're not comfortable with it

i'll drink but i'll still answer, might ease your mind no?

*jay couldn't stop his head from nodding

*(y/n) drinks

i admit that i blamed you at first, but then i got to thinking that it wasn't just you, i was also at fault too since i never really vocalized what i felt? i just let it build up until it reached the point where you couldn't do anything about it anymore, and i couldn't too.

yeah but it's more of my fault since i felt something was wrong but i just brushed it off, i brushed you off.

....

shot?

*jay smiles slightly and both raised their glasses to cheers before drinking

we were both at fault and i don't blame you, jay. i hope you stop blaming yourself

*(y/n) smiles softly then picks up a card to stop any reply they might get from jay

god why are these questions so heavy? it wasn't like this from other episodes

*jay and crew laugh

okay, hit me

[what's your biggest regret about our relationship?]

what the fuck

SEE ?!

*both laugh and jay drinks

okay, next question

no, i'm answering

[we won't stop you but just reminding you both that it's okay not to answer if you drink]

the alcohol releases the unhinged-ness

in other words, this is really just us using the alcohol to actually say what we feel

i think you already the answer, and it's that i didn't do anything about us even if i felt something was wrong. i just kept on focusing on my career that i reached a point where i brushed everything off as nothing. and in the end, while i got the success i wanted, somehow i also feel like i'm on the losing end really.

*(y/n) drinks making jay laugh

what? it's my first time hearing all this !

it was a rough break so

omg is this our closure ???

*jay's eyes widened

and it's filmed ?!?!

*everyone laughs

couple goals *(y/n) does a hashtag

oh wait *(y/n) looks at jay

exes goals *both do a hashtag pose

*they laugh, ignoring the sting in their hearts

okay, okay moving on

*jay laughs again

is it a heavy one again?

nope

[do your friends hate me?]

*(y/n) bursts out laughing

please 😭

we have the same friends

we share a lot of mutual friends

that's why there was like tension for a month in the friend group because no one knew what to do

i'm sorry you had to endure all that friends

remember when they literally made an organized schedule to hang out where we wouldn't see each since the break up was still fresh?

yeah like i got heeseung on tuesdays

and i got him on thursdays

😭😭😭

we love them though, they did their best to console us both

thanks guys <33

*(y/n) picks up a card

goddammit

[do you think we could've actually worked out our problems?]

i think it's unfair that i get a lot of heavy questions

i have the power of god and anime on my side today

i think we could've, if i just had taken the actual time to reflect and sit down and talk, we could've worked it out.

*(y/n) slaps jay's arm

i told you, stop blaming yourself

k

*(y/n) rolls their eyes

*jay picks up a card and

oh

what?

*he is stuttering guys, he is fidgeting

[do you wish we were still together?]

oh

yeah

.....

*both drink

i mean-

*jay has been paralyzed, he did not expect (y/n) to answer

i'm happy where i am right now, maybe there are moments of weakness that the thought crosses my mind but i don't dwell on it too much. i think we're both still learning and growing.

*jay doesn't want to think about the fact that (y/n) never said a clear yes or no

*(y/n) picks up a card and groans

please just drink to this

why?

[what do you think of me now?]

....

drink.

no?

why?

because-

why?

i'm answering

why?

i want to?

no.

right now i'm just really proud of you.

*WORLD PAUSE, (y/n) is malfunctioning

it's a little sad that i didn't get to witness a lot of it but i promise i watched from afar and i'm so proud of you. like it makes me feel lighter in a way? knowing that you're still going and pursuing your dreams. it just made me at ease that -

*(y/n) drinks, looking very much like snow white's apples

are you blushing?

jay i will kick you

*he laughs and pinches (y/n) cheeks making them redder, (y/n) slaps his hands away

i won't hesitate bitch

how about you huh?

[what do you think of me now?]

*jay you should know not to tease too much or else it'll bite you back

i think you're absolutely amazing.

*jay could only blame himself

i am in constant awe and there's this pride that i have in me whenever i see you thriving. it's weird because i thought i'd be bitter about it, but since i knew of your goals and how passionate you were, all i felt was pride. it did hurt a little that i couldn't go "that's my baby!" anymore.

*alert! jay's ears are red and it's spreading to his cheeks and neck

okay next question!

*he quickly picks up a card making (y/n) burst out laughing

everything i said was true though.

hajima. stop. pause. i'm not listening

*(y/n) laughs at flustered jay

this is the last one.

[question for both: if you could tell me anything, what would you say?]

sheesh

same

rock paper scissors? loser goes first

*jay wins

*(y/n) drinks

can you turn around for this one, like don't look at me.

*jay followed

i want to say that,,,, that it's not your fault for putting your future first. it kind of stung since you made me feel like i wasn't a part of it but i know that wasn't your intention. i understand your actions and i don't blame you. if i was in your position i probably would've been the same. i'm sorry that i didn't try harder, like you said we could've made it work but i just got so tired, i hope you can forgive me for that as well.

okay i'm turning around as well, your turn

*(y/n)'s eyes are glassy, but jay doesn't need to see that

i want to say that i'm sorry for neglecting you. i feel like you're tired of me saying sorry but that's really all i could do. i forgive you by the way even if i don't get why you're apologizing to me. i also want to say that, it wasn't you. it sounds cliche but you weren't the reason i became like that, it was me. it was never you. so please don't blame yourself for anything. please don't question your worth because you were more than enough.

yah i didn't want to unpack that

well i still know you and i was given the chance to say it now so

*(y/n) turns around wiping tears, jay is sniffling

i need a drink damn

*(y/n) pours a shot and jay as well, both drink after clinking their glasses

[you guys good?]

*both looks at each other and chuckles

we're good

i can't believe we have to thank our friends for setting this up

*jay groans

[care to answer one last question that is in everyone's minds' right now?]

oh god

is it what i think it is

[will we see you guys be featured again? maybe exes to couples again?]

let's drink!

*both take one last shot and waves to the camera

*(y/n) shrugs and jay winks

bye~

»————-　♡　————-«

bonus: youtube comments (peep last one)

masterlist ⸺ series masterlist

a/n: i was planning to post this sooner but my pharma prof suddenly dropped a 6-page activity lmao rip, im scheduling the timestamps i forgot to post last update sorry sorry. my angst skills are subpar forgive me but i tried my best. i hope you like this one too !! jake's will be uploaded next ! please look forward to it <33

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

The Dock

A/N: So I’m writing for Bucky now...☺️ I wrote this for @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge but also not? I’ve had the idea in my head for a while now so I thought I’d participate! I included the prompt, but it’s not so much the plot of the story so much as just part of it. Anyways, happy reading!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader

Summary: After a long time of mutual pinning, a night on the dock helps you and Bucky finally confess your feelings for each other

Word count: 4.5k+

Warnings: Swearing, reader gets catcalled, violence, excessive usage of the middle finger

Prompt: Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]

---

You awoke to your head bobbing on the car window and the sound of crunching gravel as the car pulled into the driveway of Tony’s lake house. Your neck ached from leaning over in a strange position for so long and you groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

Bucky grinned from the seat beside you. “Sleep well?” he asked, nudging your calf with his foot. “You got a little drool there.”

“Oh, shut up.” You stuck your middle finger up in his direction. “I slept very well, actually. Thank you for asking.”

“I can tell.” You lifted up your other hand to flip him off again, causing him to chuckle. “Ooh, two middle fingers. I’m really scared now.”

The two of you were too busy teasing each other to realize that the car had stopped and Sam and Natasha had already gotten out of it. A knock on the window your head was resting on made you turn around, seeing Sam’s face a little too close for your liking.

“Are you two gonna stop flirting and help us with the bags or should I let you bake in the car?” he asked. With a roll of your eyes, you opened the car door, making sure to bump Sam in the process. Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks, glad that you weren’t looking over towards him to see it. “I’m taking this silence to mean that you do want to roast in the car.”

“Sam, would you shut up?” you laughed, casually sticking a middle finger up behind your back as you walked past him to the trunk.

“You and these middle fingers today,” Sam muttered.

“I have another one if you’d like to see it.” You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder.

“I’m good.” He picked up his bag from the ground before heading towards the house, which the rest of the team was already situated in. You went to grab your suitcase but Bucky swatted your hand away, grabbing it himself and closing the trunk.

“I got it,” he insisted like the true gentleman he was. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“Why thank you, good sir.” You bumped his shoulder with your own and walked ahead, jumping up the three steps to the porch and opening the door.

“All in a day’s work.” He lifted the suitcases up the steps with ease and slipped past you to get inside. The feeling of air conditioning inside the cabin was a major relief from the heat outside.

“Glad to see the lovebirds finally showed up,” Tony said once you and Bucky were completely inside the cabin.

“You better watch out, Tony. Y/N’s got middle fingers for days over there.”

“Shut up, Sam!”

A chorus of laughter rang out throughout the cabin and you made sure to shoulder check Sam as you passed him to get to the kitchen.  

---

“Okay, I have the perfect plan to get you and Barnes together this weekend,’ Natasha said as she pulled out clothes from her suitcase. You two were sharing a room for the week and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not. You loved Nat to death but lately she had been trying especially hard to get you to make a move on Bucky and it was only slightly annoying.

“The perfect plan, huh? Even more perfect than the last perfect plan?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I forgot to account for the fact you both have a tendency to wake up at ungodly hours in the morning last time. I promise it’s foolproof this time.”

“Well then, let’s hear it.”

“Alright. Before you got in here--you know, when you were busy flirting with Bucky.” She winked, to which you rolled your eyes. “Well Tony was talking about taking the boat out and going tubing. So what we have to do is get you and Bucky to go on the tube together. Tony’s a crazy driver so you’ll get thrown off pretty fast. Bucky will get so worried he’ll just have to confess his love to you.”

“Two issues.” You pointed a finger at her. “One, how am I going to get Bucky on a tube? It will be hard enough to get him on the boat alone. Two,” You held up another finger. “why would he confess his love at that very moment? That’s insane.”

“One,” She grabbed one of your fingers and put it down. “he’s whipped for you. I guarantee that if you ask, he’ll do it without a second thought.”

“Sure he would,” you scoffed.

“Uh, I know he would.” She gave you a knowing smirk. “Two, he gets worried about you all the time and I’ve seen him get close to confessing every time. We just gotta push him over the edge.”

“Bucky getting protective is just him being my best friend. He used to be just like that with Steve too.” You put your arm down, shuffling over to your own bed to take some clothes out of the blue suitcase on top of it.

“No, it’s definitely more than best friend love.” She moved to sit down on your bed.

“Either way, it usually ends in some kind of fight and I’d like to avoid that this weekend.”

“Who’s he gonna fight? Tony?”

“I mean, you never know.” It wouldn’t be the first time.  

~

“I can’t wait to get back and shove these things in my mouth,” you said with a grin as you exited the bakery behind Bucky, a bag of donut holes in your hand.

“Gee, really? It’s almost like you haven’t been talking about it for the past three days,” Bucky chuckled, reaching for the bag.

You pulled the bag away from him with a fake scoff. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister. We have to wait until we get back. The anticipation makes them taste better.”

“You’re insufferable.” He elbowed your side and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Damn, you looking fine over there, mama!”

You took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t all that uncommon for you to get cat called while out and about. You were in New York City, for fucks sake. That didn’t mean that it made you feel any less uncomfortable, though.  

As much as it stung, you didn’t want to start anything. You stared straight ahead and prayed Bucky didn’t hear it. Much to your dismay though, he stiffened next to you, subtly glancing back to see who was talking to you in such a vulgar way. Damn that supersoldier enhanced hearing.

“Hey, sweetcheeks!” You felt a tug on your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me?”

You huffed, shaking the harsh grip off your shoulder and picking up the pace. You expected Bucky to keep going with you so you continued walking, frowning when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore.

“Listen here, you little shit,” Bucky seethed, stepping in front of the man and blocking you from his sight. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Leave her, and every other woman you ever lay your beady little eyes on, alone.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it?” the man smirked. “She need her boyfriend to defend her?”

Bucky stepped closer, crossing his arms and giving the famous ‘Bucky stare.’ “Doesn’t matter who I am. You better back the fuck away before I make you life hell.”

A few onlookers started lingering around, some with their phones out and recording the scene, almost as if they wanted to see a fight break out between the two men. ‘Winter Soldier vs Everyday Pedestrian  was sure to be trending somewhere soon enough.

“Buck,” you said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and ignoring the obvious stares you were receiving, most notably from the man whose face Bucky was ready to punch in. “Let’s just go.”

You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to decide if he should let it go or punch the living daylights out of the guy. He let out a soft sigh after a moment, relaxing into your grip. With one last look at the man, he turned around and placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward.

“Aye, it’s all good. I’m sure I’ll see that tight ass ‘round here soon anyways.”

That was the last straw for Bucky. He growled with a ferocity you hadn’t heard before and whipped around, not even hesitating to use his metal arm to punch the guy. The crowd gasped, more bringing their phones out to capture what was sure to be a great fight.

“What the fuck was-” Bucky grabbed him by his collar, pushing him up again the exposed brick of a restaurant.

“There’s plenty more where that came from and, judging by the way you’re looking at me, I bet you don’t want to see it. So do the rest of humanity a favor and fuck off.” He let go of the man’s collar and stepped back, unclenching his fist and pivoting back towards you. “Come on, doll.”

You shook the shock off your face and fell into step next to him. His arm warped around you, pulling you into his side. You could feel the fumes radiating off of him as you walked back to the tower, choosing to stay quiet as you let him cool off.

You paused once you reached the entrance of the tower. Tony probably already knew about what happened and he sure wasn’t going to be happy about it. Bucky’s media presence hadn’t necessarily been bad lately, but it wasn’t perfect either. The public was still wary. To many, the Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier were still the same person.  

Things definitely felt off when you entered. You got the side eye from a few people in the elevator and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fight fiasco or because of how tightly Bucky was holding you to his side.

“Want to eat these in my room?” you asked once you stepped off the elevator.

“Sounds good.” His voice was distant as his eyes searched the room.

“Mr. Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice startled the two of you, making you drop the donut holes. “Mr. Stark has requested to see you in his office.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll be there in a few.” He picked up the bag and handed it back to you. “Apparently, I have business to attend to.”

You simply nodded. He went in the other direction towards Tony’s office pausing at the door before knocking. You sent him a thumbs up before he went in, but he didn’t look back at you to see it. You retreated to your room, placing your wallet on the dresser and popping a donut hole in your mouth.

“Maybe I should get a plate,” you wondered aloud. You needed to grab your water bottle anyways. Might as well make the trip. You put the donut holes on your bed and started making your way to the kitchen.

“She’s perfectly capable of handling herself, you know.” You couldn’t help but stop as you heard Tony’s voice through the door of his office.

“But she shouldn’t have to.” Bucky sounded stressed and you could only imagine the hell Tony was reigning on him. “Her ignoring him wasn’t going to do anything. I didn’t want to beat the guy up but he was harassing her and it needed to stop.”

“And this doesn’t have anything to do with any particular feelings you have for her, right?” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.

“Tony-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Barnes. You know how the public sees you. I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”

“That guy harassed her! I couldn’t stand there and just let it happen!” God, you wanted to give him a hug so bad right now.

“I don’t care what it was, Bucky. Having heart eyes for Y/N doesn’t mean-” You took that as your cue to leave. You grabbed a plate and two water bottles from the kitchen and made sure to take the long way around to your room in order to avoid whatever was going on between the two of them.

Bucky showed up a half hour later, plopping down next to you on your bed with a little more space than usual.

~

“I’m just saying, it could work.” Nat got off your bed. “The cookout’s starting soon. Put on something cute.” She was gone before you could respond, leaving you to look for an outfit that would, as Nat liked to say, “knock Bucky off his ass.”

---

“Ooh, Y/N, looking to impress someone?” Sam called out as you walked out into the backyard. It seemed that most everyone else was already out there, helping make dinner or sitting on the dock.

You stuck up your middle finger in reply, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

“Oh stop it, Sam,” Wanda said as she walked towards you. “You look amazing!”

“Aww, thank you! You look absolutely stunning yourself.” Wanda reached out her hand and nodded towards the dock, urging you to come with her and join the group. You grabbed it and let her drag you down there, giving a small wave to Bucky as you passed him near the grill.

Bucky waved back, a grin spanning the expanse of his face at the sight of you. He kept his gaze on you as you made your way down to the dock, not even realizing just how intently he was staring.

“Someone’s staring at you,” Nat said with a suggestive smirk once you were close enough to the dock.

“He has a starting problem. We all know that,” you argued, sitting down across from her.

“I don’t know. He looks like he wants nothing more than to-”

“Nat, I love you, but please shut up.” She raised her hands up in the defense and Wanda giggled.

“I’m just saying.”

“You okay over there?” Steve shifted his focus from the burgers to his 100-year-old friend for a second, of course noticing the sudden silence that ensued the second you entered Bucky’s line of vision. “Buck?”

“Huh?” Bucky’s head turned sharply in Steve’s direction.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” A shy smile.

“Are you going to ask her out soon?” He flipped some burgers over and pulled the lid of the grill closed.

“I’m getting to it, yeesh,” Bucky chuckled.

“That’s what you’ve been saying since forever.”

“And it’s what I’ll keep saying every time you pester me about it.”

“Well if you don’t make a move soon, maybe I’ll swoop in-”

“Nope! You will not do that.” He nudged Steve in the shoulder and started making his way to the dock. “You absolutely will not do that.”

Soon. He was going to do it soon.

---

“Who’s next?” Tony called from the driver’s seat of the boat. You handed Sam a towel as he got back on the boat, drenched from flying off the tube a second earlier.

“You should go with Bucky.” Wanda nudged you with a teasing smile. You glanced over to the man in question, seeing him sitting next to Steve. He wore a t-shirt and swim shorts with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, and he looked damn good.

“I’ll go,” you announced, standing up and taking your t-shirt off, leaving you in your favorite swimsuit and a pair of shorts. You handed Wanda the shirt so it wouldn’t get wet. “Anyone wanna go with me?” Wanda jabbed your leg and gave you a playful glare.

“Go with her,” Steve muttered to Bucky, bumping his shoulder with his own.

“I don’t know, Steve.” Bucky sighed. Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend just needed a little push. 

“Bucky will go with you,” Steve said a bit louder than necessary. Bucky groaned quietly at his friend, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his seat. He made sure to give Steve a certain look before making his way towards the back of the boat. You both grabbed your life jackets and started securing them as Sam moved out of your way.

“Cyborg!” Tony called out. “You going to take your shirt off?”

You felt Nat snort as she helped you off of the back of the boat and onto the tube. “Yeah, Bucky. Why don’t you show off your muscles for your girlfriend here.”

“Nat!” You paused for a second to look back at her with fake betrayal.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He snapped the last clasp on the life vest and checked to make sure you were all the way on the tube so he could start getting on.

“Oh, come on, Buckaroo!” Sam laughed. He started a chant of “take it off” with the rest of the team (even you, though you’d never admit it).

“Fine,” Bucky grumbled, hastily taking off the life jacket and shirt. He threw the shirt to the middle of the boat and resecured the lifevest, ignoring Nat’s hand offered out for help as he climbed on the tube. His famous Bucky glare melted off his face the second he saw your bright smile and he found himself smiling too.

“I don’t know how well this is going to go but it’s gonna be fun,” you said as he grabbed onto the handles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tony’s a crazy driver and we’ve never been able to get you on a tube before. I’m betting you’ll fly off in the first three minutes.”

The tube jerked forwards before Bucky could say anything else. You started picking up speed quickly and soon enough, Bucky was holding the handles with a death grip. You ended up being right and about two minutes in, you hit a wave that threw him off.

“Are you okay?” you asked in between laughs as he struggled to get back on.

“Yeah,” he muttered, a hint of annoyance on his face. You threw a thumbs up to Tony, who nodded and started moving again. “It’s like he’s trying to throw us off.”

“Well half the fun is falling off.”

“You people have strange ways of entertaining yourselves on Sunday afternoons.”

“What would you suggest we rather do then?”

“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve giving myself whiplash for ‘fun.’”

“You’re such an old man.” You let go of a handle to smack his arm. Of course, at that exact moment, you hit a wave strong enough to throw both of you off. You shrieked as you flew off of the tube before smacking the water. Whether it was the lack of paying attention or a scheme by Nat and Steve, the boat kept going, leaving the two of you floating in the middle of the lake by yourselves.

“Where are they going?” You furrowed your eyebrows, though a grin was still evident on your face.

“Are you okay?” Bucky ignored your question as he swam over to you, worriedly grabbing your face and checking for injury.

“Buck, I’m fine,” you said, though you didn’t do anything to stop his injury check. He sighed and looked towards the direction the boat went. It seemed that they were already long gone.

“That shriek had me worried there for a second, doll.” His hands dropped from your cheeks and you found yourself missing his touch.

“No need to worry. I’m all good over here.”

“Good.”

A lull of conversation fell over the two of you as you treaded water. You slowly moved closer, noses almost touching when Bucky glanced down to your lips. You nodded. I want this too.

His lips brushed over yours: eyes closed and hands dipping under the water to grab your waist.

“There you are!” you heard Sam’s voice shout. You quickly separated, looking awkwardly down at the water as you tried to focus on anything but each other. “Thought we lost you. Didn’t interrupt anything, I hope.” He smirked at Bucky.

This time, it was Bucky flipping him off.

---

You tried to be quiet as possible as you tiptoed through the hallway, hoping that you wouldn’t step on any particularly squeaky floorboards in the dark. You started opening drawers once you made it to the kitchen in search of a flashlight. Did Tony even own basic technology like that?

“What are you doing, doll?” A soft voice broke you from your thoughts. A pair of blue eyes stared back at you.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Oh, okay.”

“You look like a deer in headlights.” His lips turned into an almost smile. “Are you running away?”

“Just down to the dock. Need to clear my mind.” Nightmares.

He nodded. An unspoken understanding. Maybe that’s what made you such great friends.

“Mind if I join?”

“Sure.” You finally found a flashlight and grabbed it, sliding the drawer shut with your hip. You slid the glass door to the porch open, leaving Bucky to follow you out.  

Warmth surrounded you as you made your way to the dock. The humidity was atrocious during the day but at night, it was somehow comforting. The buzzing of bugs in the surrounding woods brought you a level of peace that the hum of air conditioning inside couldn’t. You sat down at the edge of the dock, dipping your toes in the cool lakewater.

Bucky sat down next to you a moment later. Your silence contrasted with that of the busy summer night, but it was comfortable. Nothing needed to be said; the presence of each other was more than enough.

“You know,” he started, his gaze not leaving the shoreline across the way. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

You glanced over to him for a second, taking subtle notice of his features when his guard was down. The dark circles under his eyes mirrored yours, yet he looked relaxed.

“And what if I don’t?” The slight stain of your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His head turned to meet you eyes. The soft upturn of your lips and content sigh told him that was the right answer. Your hand inched closer to his, your pinkies brushing on the splintered wood of the dock.

“How do you always know what to say?” Your gaze followed his across the lake, catching sight of a few deer grazing on the grass at the edge of the woods.

“I guess being alive for 106 years has to give me some kind of wisdom, right?”

You snorted, breaking the quiet atmosphere the two of you had created for the first time that night.

“I dunno. You’re still kind of a dumbass.”

“And you're still kind of a smartass, so where does that get us?” A grin spread across his face and there was no sight you loved more.

“God, I love seeing you smile.” A blush coated his cheeks at your words and he prayed you couldn’t see it in the dark of the night.

Your hands inched closer for a second time that night. A metal hand reached across to grab yours, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer. Your head rested beneath his chin as he rubbed circles into your side.

“Thank you,” you mumbled after a few minutes of quiet.

“For what?”

“Your face.”

His chest rumbled with laughter and he squeezed you just the slightest bit tighter. “Glad I could be of service, doll.”

“Seriously, though . . .Thank you for being around. I know we joke around a lot but it really means a lot that you’re willing to sit out here with me.”

“I mean, technically, it was more of me inviting myself than putting myself through the torture of sitting here with you.”

You pulled away from his chest, shifting yourself so you could look at him better. “For real, Buck.” You put your hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Just do it, Bucky. Now’s the time.

He let out a breath as he smiled, looking anywhere but in your eyes as he contemplated what to do next. The hand not holding your waist came to brush back a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

You looked shocked for a moment, leaving him to wonder if he’d been reading it wrong all along. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I thought that-”

You cut him off, pressing your lips against his. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck as his grabbed your hips. It was everything you needed and yet it still wasn’t enough.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen,” you breathed once you pulled away. This grin on your face mirrored his as he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“Actually . . . I think I might.” He dipped back in for another kiss, this one a bit softer than the first, but just as passionate.

A sudden breeze swept through the night and you shivered. It would have been a relief from the heat if you weren’t already having chills due to the man in front of you.

“Let’s get you back inside, doll.”

You were reluctant to let go of him. The moment you’d been waiting for for so long finally happened and you felt yourself scared to be too far from him.

You shifted your weight back so he could get up, not realizing just how close to the edge of the dock you were. Bucky let go of your hips before you could warm him and you felt yourself falling backwards in slow motion. A small yelp left your lips and Bucky’s attempt to save you was futile as your hands slipped through his.

“Cold, cold, cold!” you chanted once you surfaced, barely hearing yourself over how loud Bucky was laughing.

“Are you okay?” he choked out in between his laughter, kneeling at the edge of the dock and holding his hand out towards you. You grabbed his hand with a glare.

“I have half a mind to yank you in here with me.” His eyes widened at your words.

“Don’t you dare!” You tugged his arm lightly, just enough to get his face closer to yours.

“I guess I can spare you. Just this one time.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling yourself up onto the dock. “But I think I deserve a hug for my troubles.”

“Can’t deny my girlfriend that, now can I?” He pulled you into a hug, cradling your head on his chest and pressing his lips to your hairline.

“I’m your girlfriend, huh? Damn, we’re moving fast! Do you have the wedding planned already?”

“Oh please. I think we all know we’ve basically been dating for a while now.”

“Perhaps.” The two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer before another breeze came.  “Should we go in now that we’re both wet and cold?”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea, doll.” Keeping an arm around each other, you slowly made your way back to the cabin, already making plans for a proper date once the trip was over.

---

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[noteguk]

white lies | teaser 1: you | jjk | m

[ ! ] this is one of two teasers for my upcoming fic (White Lies) which will be posted on July 5th. The second teaser, following Jungkook’s pov, will come out next Monday! 

— contents and warnings (for the teaser); no major warnings for the teaser, kinda angsty but not really, athlete!jungkook x reader, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, heavy simping content, actually a good warning would be jk being all sweaty and shirtless 

— words; 1,3k

~

The sun was a merciless god above you, sending its scorching waves down onto the open field, burning on your scalp and inducing the sweat that dripped down your neck. Even with your palm shielding your vision, you were still having a hard time following the movement of the ball amongst the players, a low buzzing sound in your ears muffling their excited exclamations. It wasn’t even summer, but it surely felt like it. 

Maybe you were having a heat stroke, you thought, but quickly disregarded the idea. It wasn’t impossible, but you had just come out of a long hibernation period near the lockers, where a large shadow mingled with a cool breeze, relieving you of that free trial of Death Valley. Still, it wasn’t all good, and you certainly would’ve rather been inside an acclimatized environment with a bucket of ice cream than to be treated like a piece of meat in a barbecue. You would’ve left a long time ago if it wasn’t for him. 

There was no excuse inside your head that didn’t sound like you were simping hard — because, even though it was a difficult pill to swallow, it was the truth. Yeah, maybe it was a nice gesture for you to stick around until Jungkook got his much-deserved break, maybe it was super nice of you to make sure his water bottle was freezing cold for when the time came. There was no reason he couldn’t do that by himself, though, and he had the rest of his teammates to spend his break with. You were just simping. And acting like a complete clown because of it. 

Two sharp whistles interrupted their practice, their coach signaling that it was time for a break. You breathed out in alleviation for exactly two seconds before you saw Jungkook jogging in your direction, and then your nervousness picked right back up. 

It was so unfair how dazzlingly handsome he looked that you wanted to go up to heaven and have a very heated argument with whoever thought it was a good idea to send that level of perfection down to Earth. He even looked like those scenes in Shrek in which Prince Charming is moving in slow motion, his luscious hair to the wind and a striking smile on his face — okay, maybe you were having a heat stroke. 

“What’s up?” He asked, a little out of breath, as he reached you. At some point amongst your catastrophe of horny thoughts, you had reached for his bottle, and were now handing it to him. “Thanks. You look sweaty.”

You scoffed. “If I'm sweaty, I don’t know what makes you.”

Jungkook squeezed the bottle, sending a squirt of water directly into his open mouth. Did you stare at his jawline and the muscles on his neck for a little too long? Absolutely. But he didn’t have to know that. “Yeah, fair enough.” He brushed the back of his hand against his mouth. “Coach went insane today— Did you bring something to eat?” 

You nodded, reaching for your backpack. The bench next to you was covered with your scattered notes, most of which you didn’t even have the attention span to go through. Midterms suck hard enough as it is, but you just had to make it worse by accompanying Jungkook during his practice. “Yeah, I noticed that,” you mumbled, miraculously finding a couple protein bars in your backpack — who were you kidding? You had put them there because of him. “Any reason for it?” 

Jungkook shrugged, taking one of the bars. He looked out to the field as his hands worked on unwrapping it, a deep frown covering his face. He looked so gorgeous with his dark, sweaty hair pushed back that you almost didn’t compute his following words. “My fault, probably. Left early last time.” He shoved the bar inside his mouth before he could speak any further, his sparkling eyes growing wide at the taste. “Hm! This is great, by the way.” 

Uneasy, you shifted around on your seat. From the corners of your eyes, you could see the silhouettes of his teammates walking around the field, looking like ghosts. You wondered if Jungkook didn’t prefer talking to them instead. “Wait, you said that you all got sent home early,” you said. 

Jungkook chuckled like a nervous kid. “Hm, yeah. Kind of,” he admitted, unable to meet your gaze. “Didn’t want to make you mad. Besides, it was much more fun hanging out with you.” 

Through the years, you had become a pro at pretending that his random praises didn’t get to you — mostly through minor bursts of frustration. “You’re such an idiot, you could’ve just waited another hour.” You slapped his shoulder lightly, which only made him laugh harder. “Do you know if it’s going to take long today? I kinda have a test on Friday and it’s hard to review out here. You know, for that class I’m basically failing already.” 

He shrugged. “No idea. You can leave if you want.” Jungkook returned the water bottle to you, along with the bar he didn’t eat. “I have a date later so I’ll have to rush home, anyways. You can take a break at being my personal cheerleader for the day.”  

That was the moment that you wished that he had stabbed you in the chest instead, considering he had caused much more damage with his casual words alone. It wasn’t the first (nor the last) date that Jungkook had, but they all felt like it; they all surprised and hurt you all the same. Maybe it was your own fault for building up some hopeful expectations that, deep down, your feelings were mutual. Maybe it was time to snap out of that alternate reality you had created in the name of your own comfort, and search for someone else. 

“Who are you going out with?” Your voice was normal, controlled, not at all equivalent to the shattering of your heart. 

Problem was: there wasn't someone else. 

Jungkook rubbed the back of his head, oscillating his stare away from yours. “You don’t know her, and I—”

Two sharp whistles (which now sounded so merciful) interrupted his excuses. Jungkook took a dumbfounded glimpse at his teammates, soon meeting the pissed off look in his coach’s face. 

“Already? Fuck,” he complained, hand grabbing his shirt and using it to dry the sweat on his forehead. If your heart weren’t in shambles, you probably would’ve enjoyed the view of his abs in full display for three glorious seconds, before his team shirt fell back into place. “I think you should go home and rest, ___.” Jungkook started to jog away, raising his voice so you could hear it. “I’ll text you about how it went later, alright? And don’t get a heat stroke!” 

“Okay,” your voice was a soft little thing, and you knew he hadn’t heard it. Jungkook was already halfway across the field, his back turned to you and the large number ten bouncing on his back. “Have fun.” 

You took a deep breath, hands working to put your notes on a neat pile. The smell of fresh grass was intoxicating, making you a bit dizzy as you got up to your feet. You let his water bottle in the corner of the bleachers, where there was a small shadow, and went home.