#AND she will unpack her suitcase

[mystery-star]

Here goes my "a week without mental breakdowns" streak.

Aka the week in which my sister was on vacation. Now just the thoguht of her being back brought me to the Edge of one.

👏👏👏

(Don't get me wrong tho, I love my sis and she doesn't do the stuff on purpose but STILL)

#tw mental health #tw breakdown #i mean i too dos stuff that triggers her #but that's stuff I can't really change #but when i ask her for ONE (1) tiny thing she CAN change #nope doesn't happen #and when she tells me to stop something I go extra miles to avoid her hearing me do it #but now i am tempted to just simnply not do that anymore until she's learned to close that frigging door corretly #now that also her boyfriend will come who closes the door (jsut hers the one i HATE being closed without pressing the handle down) the same #means twice as much noises #AND she will unpack her suitcase #and bc her bf is here she'll close her roomdoor for that #aka i can look forward to her opening and closing the time again and again and again and over and over and over again and again #I know I could ask her to PLS close it normaly #but last time i did... #she only told me what stuff I do that annoys her #I Changed mine #she didn't #so yeah #don't want another lecture of her telling me that the thigns I love to do (aka writing) disturb her #(my mom^s keyboard is exaclty the same. it sounds the same. but that is okay for her) #she has a problem with me chewing. BUT can lean agianst her boyfriend while he chews #and sorry that boy chews Way louder than I do #sometimes i feel like her misphonia s selective #mehh

[xenon-demon]

ooo tell me more about med student steve & nurse eddie 💕💕💕

HELLO JANAI!!! this fic is the one I'm most actively writing rn (as opposed to Kas!Steve AU where i'm constantly rotating it in my brain like a rotisserie chicken, but that's for outlining/untangling knots in the plot reasons lmao) so I am Very Happy to talk about it <3

I did actually finish properly outlining this AU today too!! Unless inspiration strikes me and I write way too much for something, it looks like this fic will be 7 chapters and a short epilogue.

SO, to answer your ask I'm going to share with you what some of the other ST characters (those that I've slotted into a healthcare role, at least) are doing in this AU:

Chrissy is the ward clerk, aka the person who handles all the admin tasks, on the ward Eddie works on! They're best friends, and if there's a quiet moment (or more likely, Eddie is on break) you can usually find them talking shit together at Chrissy's desk. Chrissy is also a bi icon in this AU 🩷💜💙

Joyce is the Nurse Unit Manager of the ward - as the title implies, she's the boss of the nursing staff on the ward and in charge of things like making sure hospital policies are being followed & organizing the nursing team so all patients are adequately cared for. She is Very Overworked but she runs a tight ship!

Argyle is one of the hospital pharmacists, and Jonathan is a trainee hospital pharmacist working with him (but not directly under him as Argyle's personal trainee. That'd be a little weird, considering they're dating). Argyle is also working on a research paper about the benefits of medicinal marijuana (with hopes the team's findings will contribute to further legalisation across the country).

Jason sucks. Jason is a medical student on placement with Steve, and he's... he's what we call a gunner. In med school, gunners are students who are ambitious to a fault, potentially willing to throw other students under the bus to further their own career or academic performance, and often focus too much on the "being right"/"being The Best at medicine" aspects of being a doctor instead of prioritizing the patient and their needs. Basically, he's an out-of-touch privileged jackass who comes from a long line of doctors, and has therefore just Assimilated into the family destiny without ever thinking about what being a doctor actually means.

Vickie works in the hospital pathology centre - she's one of the people who picks up samples and processes them after the doctors or nurses drop them off. Every time Robin goes up there (because it's common to send the med students off to drop off the pathology samples) she is So Very Normal and makes Normal People Conversation with Vickie. Robin is so smooth, I promise.

Nancy is another medical student like Robin & Steve are, and she's currently with the consult psychiatry team with Robin. Nancy is also dating Jonathan, because Jonathan has two hands, and Nancy is very interested in the research work Argyle does. She is still Steve's ex-girlfriend in this AU - they had a poorly-thought-out brief relationship in their first year of medical school, and no one in the medical school has let them live it down.

Dr Henry Creel is the consultant doctor in charge of the Internal Medicine team Steve & Jason are currently with. As he's in charge of the team, he's the one who grades the med students and decides if they pass or fail their placement term. I'm sure nothing bad will come of this.

For reference, the "young adults" of the ST cast are in their mid-twenties in this AU. This means that those in fields like nursing or pharmacy have already graduated from college and are full-status employees in their chosen fields, while the med students of the group are still working their way through medical school (since doing a bachelor's + an MD is pretty time-consuming, and that's before you take any time off from studying after high school or between degrees). Also, Henry is Older here, since in canon he's like... what, 40 in 1986? He's at least in his fifties in this AU, since consultant doctors are rarely any younger than that (particularly if they're not brand new to the job).

Also, if I haven't said this elsewhere already, this is a modern AU! No way am I forcing myself to replace all my healthcare knowledge with healthcare knowledge from 40 years ago for this fic, it's bad enough I have to pretend to understand how the American healthcare system works lmao

Send me an ask about my WIPs!

#charlie writes things #med student steve & nurse eddie #hospital au #at the moment i think the only ones who won't make an actual appearance in the fic are argyle & jonathan #they're living their best (most peaceful) lives in pharmacy land while steve and eddie have their relationship problems #god bless <3 #also i think somewhere along the line this fic accidentally became about me finding meaning in my chosen course of study #and exploring what being a doctor means to me. through the medium of steve harrington #huh. #i could unpack that in therapy but pffffft who has time for that *throws the whole suitcase away* #also NO i have no idea what robin ship i'm going with for this au ok!!!!!! i just know it's not going to be ronance #nancy already has a bf and her bf has a bf. nancy could ALSO have a gf but she doesn't have time for that in med school lmao #maybe i'll just let robin have two girlfriends.

[chekhovs-harpoon]

#podcast blogging #i keep getting ads for a show that's like #let's listen in on the court hearings of a grieving family and the mom is #so fucking crazy that she might get a reduced sentenced for murdering her kids #we don't actually know this for real btw #I'm just wow o_0 it doesn't feel right to make a show about this Jesus fucking Christ #I'm getting glimpses of a roiling sea of the most fucked up true crime podcast in my lil bubble of queer indie audio drama #there's a lot to unpack here but let's just throw away the whole suitcase

[the-heaminator]

.

#The hetalia to trans pipeline is getting a tad too fuckin real for comfort #It doesn't help that I talked with someone I know who recently came out as transfem. She explained her symptoms and feelings of dysphoria. #Which just so happened to align a tad too well with my repressed ass thoughts. If the other way round #She was saying that her voice was too deep and that she was very conscious of it that she kept trying to explain to her cis girlfriend that #She was one of them and yknow. I'm very conscious of my voice being too high that I look in the mirror and it feels wrong #my shoulders are too narrow everything feels wrong. 80 degrees to the left and the way she explained it really set light upon it and i-i #And lookie here heam has a packed by a south asian dad sized suitcase of things to unpack here and I dont wanna do this #This is scary. I want to curl up in a ball. I look at my reflection and get scared. This isnt me this is someone else. #Like yes I know I went from she her to she/they to they/them. But going to he/they or he/him eventually somewhat scares me #it feels right but wrong scary but comfortable just want a hug please for the love of gOD #The heam speaks #The heam yells into the abyss #I-if someone is open enough to help me with this that would be very vet gladly accepted I want to be held even by words rn

[eclipsecrowned]

me: so johnny's actually from a pretty cosmopolitan family. his dad was an immigrant and his mom is a successful businesswoman. he grew up in a pretty nice neighborhood in glasgow and had the whole boys school experience. pretty normal upper middle class upbringing in the big city, tried a year of art school before realizing he couldn't handle higher academia and moved on to the military. what this person kept impressing upon me: he's a man of the highlands, who raised sheep on his uncle's farm in the summers, who speaks gaelic and is in tune with nature. he's impish and loves japes, a salt of the earth man from a different time. he wants to give his children ancestral names, like mackenzie for his daughter. me: holy national stereotypes batman--

#I THREW OUT THE WHOLE SUITCASE. TOO MUCH TO UNPACK. BUT ALSO WAOW. #she would just throw random stereotypes and whatever she got in her head as 'scottish' on my muse and i'd just. pry her fingers off of him. #like no? no. he's not some hardy protagonist. he's just a Dude. he is just a Dude. stop being weird about him.

[dammit-theclown]

I think a lot about that time my mom was trying to explain teacher crushes to me and she was like “everyone has crushes on their same-sex teachers. I did in third grade and fifth grade and also middle school and high school. Doesn’t mean anything.” And then I was like “well I’m gay and I’ve never had a crush on my teacher” and she got sooooooo mad lol

#in her defense. she has mommy issues the size of texas #that suitcase isn’t getting unpacked lolllll #dammit cinematic universe

[clairenatural]

Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.

It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.

It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.

He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.

Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.

So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.

It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”

Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 

Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 

The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”

It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.

Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.

"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.

Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.

"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.

"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.

He turns the keys. He drives them home.

Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).

Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.

It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"

Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."

"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."

"You didn't correct her?"

"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.

"Uh huh."

"It felt trivial."

"To tell her we're not married?"

"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.

Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."

"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.

Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.

"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"

Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"

Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."

Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."

Across the table, Cas grins at him.

"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.

"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."

"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."

They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.

#mae clairenatural writing fic in the year 2023...... #go easy on me im rusty #i started this a year ago and decided to finish it and that was PAINFUL #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #1.2k words #my words

[girlrotterr]

But I'm a lesbian!

ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: inspired by the movie, "but i'm a cheerleader" !! Did my own little spin on it. (This may have a part two!)

→ Part two! → Part three! → Part four!

Forced to a camp known as "True Directions," your arrival was no choice of your own. Your parents, upon discovering your sexuality, had made the decision to send you there. As you followed your guide towards the dormitories, someone caught your eye—a girl with auburn hair, casually puffing on a cigarette.

Noticing your presence, the girl glanced up and rolled her eyes. Your guide gestured towards her, prompting her to approach you. Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "Ellie."

"Hello," you responded, your voice betraying your nerves as you shook her hand, noting its soft yet firm grip.

With a sigh, Ellie remarked, "they sent new meat here again, huh?" She took another drag from her cigarette, casting a judgmental gaze in your direction.

"I’m sure to be out of the way," you said, trying to sound confident. "I’ll pass every trial here to get back home."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Uh-huh..." she mused. “You’ll be here a while then."

“Ahem," the guide cleared her throat towards Ellie, who responded with an eye roll before retreating to her pink bed.  

"Very well then, I will leave you to unpack your things. This will be your dorm. You will share this space with three other roommates, feel free to report anything back to me," she said, her tall and commanding presence by her bouncing blond hair as she talked.

"Especially anything involving this one," she added, shooting a glance at Ellie. 

"Well," the guide grasped your arms, giving them a squeeze, "welcome to 'True Directions,' we'll fix you right up, dear!”

You gave a hesitant half-smile, trying to hide your discomfort. 

Returning your gesture with a bright smile, the guide nodded happily before leaving, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Silence. 

Clutching onto your suitcases, the silence became increasingly awkward, and you debated whether to speak up. Should you ask where to put your belongings? But the fear of annoying or bothering Ellie made you hesitant.

Fuck it.

"Um, excuse me, where can I—"

"There," Ellie interrupted, her tone nonchalant as she pointed toward a corner of the room, her gaze still not meeting yours.

Your eyes followed her gesture to an empty white dresser tucked away, starkly different from the others that were already occupied. Making your way towards the dresser, you took in the room once more. The overwhelming femininity was hard to ignore—pink walls, beds, and shelves adorned with stuffed animals. Setting your suitcase down with a thud, you unzipped it, the sound of the zipper echoing loudly in the silent room.

Opening the drawer, the scent of brand new furniture wafted across your nose, tickling it and nearly causing you to sneeze.

Ellie got up from her bed, pulling open her drawer with a tug. In it were an assortment of items—makeup, hair accessories, and jewelry jumbled together. Rummaging through it, Ellie let out a sharp exhale, finally finding something from the depths of the drawer.

Without a glance in your direction, she held out a ribbon and a few hair clips. "Here," she muttered.

Your eyes widened at the adorable accessories as she tossed them over to you. "Put your hair up or something. It's better not to have it in the way, especially during our routines.”

"Ah, thank you," you expressed, catching them. "Are these.. yours?"

"Yeah... unfortunately," Ellie responded dryly.

With a nod, you started to arrange your hair with the clips.

As you styled your hair, the weight of Ellie's gaze pressed against your back like a physical force. Every subtle movement you made was studied, from the way you lifted strands of hair to the careful twisting of the ribbon around the ponytail. Even the simple act of tucking a stray lock behind your ear felt intense.

What’s this girl's deal?

The intensity of her stare became almost suffocating, leaving your hands trembling slightly as you worked. Despite her focus only on your hair, the sensation of being under her gaze felt like she was peering into your soul.

Finally, Ellie broke the silence with a quiet, husky voice, her words cutting through the tension. "You need a mirror?"

Her gaze remained fixed on you, relentless.

"No," you managed to reply, attempting to be confident.

But the moment her voice echoed throughout the room, heat began rising to your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but hesitate. Her presence felt overwhelming, a mix of nerves, fear, and desire swirling within you, all under her attention.

“Hm..” Ellie replied, seeming more curious now. She uncrossed her arms and slowly walked over to you. You could hear the way Ellie’s footsteps made the floor creak as she walked.

"Hm?" you managed to utter as Ellie closed in on you, her presence surrounding you with every step she took. The breath from her lips brushed against the nape of your neck as she leaned in.

"You're missing a strand," Ellie said, her voice softer than before.

The sensation of her being so close, her breath teasing your skin. You wanted to turn around and face her.

Her closeness was so overwhelming.

As Ellie's hand brushed against your hair, a sharp shiver coursed through your spine, setting your heartbeat into a quick rhythm. Her touch lingered, fingers twirling strands of your hair, as she leaned in even closer, so suffocatingly close. It felt as though Ellie was on the verge of whispering something, her breath agonizingly near-

"Yo, Ellie!"

The tension in the room broke as Dina and Abby burst in, causing Ellie to let go of your hair and step back.

Their expressions shifted abruptly from excitement to surprise as they noticed you. Dina's curious gaze looked over, her head tilting in confusion, while Abby's cold stare pierced through you.

"You must be the new one," Abby remarked, her tone icy, her eyes never leaving you as if dissecting your very being.

"Y-yeah.. I am," you responded, finally finishing your hair.

Abby simply nodded in acknowledgment, while Dina chuckled to herself.

"Aw, the new girl is all nervous!" Dina's teasing remark was followed by a smirk and a playful wave of her hand. She shifted her attention to Ellie, observing her growing annoyance. Dina seemed to catch on to something, finding the situation amusing.

"Ooooh! Ellie was hitting on ya!" Dina's snickering only added to Ellie's frustration as she clenched her jaw tightly, arms crossed.

Abby, maintaining her silent observation, continued to stare at the both of you.

"Ah! no..she was just helping me with my hair," you replied, attempting to stop the teasing.

"Awh. Is that so?" Dina's teasing tone persisted as she continued to giggle, her gaze towards Ellie who remained annoyed.

Abby's gaze suddenly shifted as she walked towards you, gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Her touch was surprisingly tender.

"There," she remarked softly, a smile gracing her lips, the gesture catching you off guard. It was so unexpected. "You had missed a strand."

Abby looked back at Ellie, a smirk on her lips, her eyes flickering as she made a mocking glance with her.

Suddenly, the camp director barged in, her authoritative voice vibrating throughout the room. "Ladies!" she commanded, making all the girls snap their attention towards the door where the camp director now stood.

Ellie groaned as soon as she heard that familiar voice.

"All of you, get out for morning exercise," the director ordered, her stern gaze scanning everyone. "Now."

With a swift turn, the camp director walked out of the room, the echo of her clicking heels fading as she left. Abby, Dina, and Ellie all groaned in unison, knowing what was to come. They made their way to their designated dressers, preparing to change into their gym clothes.

Amidst the shuffling of clothing, you voiced your confusion. "W-what are we doing?"

Abby scoffed at your question, a smirk on her lips. "Did Ellie not go through the routines and rules with you?"

You shook your head.

"Not surprising," she remarked before chuckling, "she always seems to get distracted-"

“We're doing morning cardio and stretching routines,” Ellie cut in, her voice clear and assertive, pulling out her sports bra and short shorts. “Your gym clothes are in your dresser.”

Abby bit her lip, suppressing a laugh. "Well, there you go.”

You nodded in understanding, “thanks..”

Walking to your dresser, you pulled open the top drawer, revealing a variety of outfits and uniforms, all varying shades of pink. The sight left your head spinning a bit as you realized this would be your life for the next couple of months.

As you began changing, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you. With hesitant movements, you peeled off your shirt and skirt, the fabric slipping from your skin with a soft rustle. All the while, you were aware of Abby and Ellie's eyes lingering on you.

 Abby's gaze, though subtle, was sharply observant, her eyes tracing up and down your body with an almost predatory glare. It was as if she was memorizing every curve and contour. Meanwhile, Ellie's attention was more focused, her gaze lingering on specific areas of your body, like your hips and chest. There was an intensity in her stare, a curiosity that was borderline intrusive.

Slap! 

With a sharp sting on your ass, a sudden jolt of surprise chilled through you, causing you to yelp. "You'll make us late at this pace!" Dina's voice rang out, her arm wrapping around you protectively, shielding you from the view of Abby and Ellie.

"Ah! You're right," you exclaimed, quickly slipping into your gym clothes.

Dina gave you a quick grin before turning her attention towards Abby and Ellie. Squinting her eyes playfully, she shook her head slowly, teasingly disappointed in the two of them. Abby hurriedly looked away, pretending to be preoccupied with tying her shoelaces, while Ellie rolled her eyes.

───

As you and the other girls made your way to the track, you found yourselves walking together in a small group. Ellie and Abby led the way, showing no signs of slowing down despite your struggle to keep up. Meanwhile, Dina’s pace was slower, occasionally glancing at you.

"So, how'd you get caught?" Dina asked slyly, a mischievous look in her eyes.

You turned to look at her, taken aback by the sudden question. "What?"

"You were sent here for a reason," Dina said curiously, making Abby and Ellie turn their heads, intrigued to hear your response.

"I..don't think I want to share," you said, avoiding eye contact from feeling a bit nervous.

"Oh, come on!" Dina urged, now walking next to you, realizing your hesitance. "Don't be so shy. How about we tell you ours? Will that make you less embarrassed?"

"Hmm..alright," you agreed. Maybe learning about their experiences would help get to know them.

Excitedly, Dina clapped her hands together. "Okay, okay! I'll go first." She moved closer to you, her shoulder practically bumping into yours. "I got caught watching lesbian porn."

A snicker escaped Ellie's lips as she tried to hold back her laughter.

Dina shot a playful glare. "You have no right to laugh, El's."

"Doesn't make it any less funny," Ellie retorted.

Dina scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Since it’s sooo funny, you go then."

Ellie's eyes locked onto yours, her voice embarrassed. "I ordered a strap online, and it got delivered to the wrong address. To my fucking neighbor, Seth. Dude went ballistic and sent me here, said I needed to be controlled."

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as Ellie's words sank in, full of curiosity and intrigue. The mere idea of her wearing a strap sent a flow of sensations that pulsed throughout your body. Your throat became dry trying to visualize it. 

"Ab's! Your turn!" Dina interrupted excitedly, Abby's story was always her favorite.

Abby smirked, turning her gaze towards you. "Unlike Ellie, I got to use my strap," she remarked mischievously.

Ellie groaned at Abby'scomment, clearly unimpressed.

“I got caught fucking my father's assistant nurse with it.”

Dina squealed as she shook your arm excitedly. "Now THAT'S a coming out story!" she exclaimed.

Ellie shot Dina a glare, clearly annoyed by her reaction. With a scoff, she turned her head away, facing in the opposite direction.

Abby, on the other hand, smirked at Ellie's and playfully hit her back. "Aw, it's okay, El's," she said reassuringly.

"Okay, okay, tell us yours now," Dina urged eagerly, her and Abby's curious gazes fixed on you,

“Well..” you began, your hands fidgeting nervously as you mustered up the courage. “My parents walked in on me and my cheer captain…” You hesitated for a moment before continuing “...69’ing on the kitchen counter.” 

Ellie quickly snapped her head back to look at you. Dina and Abby’s eyes widened, completely startled.

“Y-yeah…” you confirmed, meeting the girls' shocked gazes. “Mid-squirt too…”

Ellie’s eyes widened as if they were going to pop. Dina’s jaw dropped, with her mouth slowly curving into a smirk, “You fucking win.”

───

"Alright, ladies," the head director announced, her voice carrying across the track, “forty-five minutes around the track, as per usual. Afterward, we hit the showers in preparation for cooking classes."

"Remember, ladies," she continued excitedly, "these skills aren't just beneficial, they also attract men! It's just another step closer to becoming 'normal'."

The moment the word "normal" left the director's lips, you noticed the collective eye rolls and groans from the other girls. Ellie's jaw tightened as she stared away, grumbling under her breath. Abby crossed her arms, completely unamused, while Dina couldn't help but snicker, lowering her face to hide her giggle.

With a sharp blow of the whistle, the director signaled the start of the morning run.

As you began your laps around the track, you couldn't help but notice the effortless speed and stamina of Ellie and the other girls. They seemed to glide around the track with ease.

Struggling to keep up, your legs began to burn. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you pushed yourself onward.

"Hey, you doing okay?" Abby asked.

"Ye..yeah..." you managed to reply between heavy breaths.

Abby arched an eyebrow, clearly seeing through you. "You do know we have about 20 more laps to go, right?"

Before you could respond, a sudden stumble sent you tumbling to the ground. Abby instinctively reached out to help, but her attempt only resulted in her losing her balance, causing her to trip and accidentally pull Ellie down with her.

Ellie hit the concrete hard, her knee taking the force of the fall. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her jaw tightly as pain shot through her scrapped knee. With all three of you on the ground, the sudden scene caused a chuckle from Dina. "Holy shit, you guys fell like bowling pins," she remarked.

"Shit, sorry El's-" Abby began to apologize.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Ellie yelled, her tone cold as she glared up at Abby.

Abby glared back at Ellie, her expression tense. "What-"

“Watch where you’re fucking going. It’s not that hard,” Ellie snarled, gritting her teeth as she noticed the large scrape on her knee.

“T-that was on me-" you added, feeling guilty for the accident.

Abby suddenly got up, her face contorted with anger as she looked down at Ellie. “I didn’t mean to, I-"

Ellie suddenly stood up too, her height making her have to look up at Abby. “I’m so fucking sick of you trying to assert something. It’s fucking annoying.”

Abby scoffed, “Yeah? I’m tired of your pussy fucking attitude.” She then moved closer towards Ellie, the sudden bump causing Ellie to sway a bit.

Ellie chuckled, tilting her head to the side before locking eyes with Abby. “Pussy, huh?” 

“You are what you fucking eat,” Abby snapped back, her tone sharp.

You got up from the concrete floor, every inch of your body feeling the lingering sting from the sudden impact. “She didn’t mean to, I tripped and-” you tried to explain, but before you could finish, Ellie raised her fist. Her initial target being Abby, who managed to step back just in time to avoid the blow. Unfortunately, you stepped further, positioning yourself between them, but before you could react, Ellie's fist mistakenly met your nose.

“Holy shit!” Dina yelled, her hand covering her mouth in shock.

You felt the impact jolt through your body as you stumbled back, finding stability in Abby's embrace as her arms wrapped around you from behind.

“Fuck, I am so sorry-" Ellie began to apologize, her voice filled with remorse.

“Fucking really?!?” Abby yelled, frustrated as she stepped you to the side. “You fucking hit her!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Ellie yelled back, her tone defensive as she tried to explain herself.

“Didn’t mean to? You punched her!” 

“G-guys, I’m fine-" you said, your voice strained through the pain, attempting to step towards them again, holding your throbbing nose.

“I was clearly trying to punch your bitch ass!” Ellie yelled.

“Oh yeah?” Abby raised her fist, aiming for Ellie, her knuckles clenched as she intended to give her a piece of her mind for hurting you and being such a brat. However, as you stepped in between them once again, Abby's fist accidentally hit you, the impact shocking you and causing a blur in your vision.

“Oh my god!” Dina yelled, her eyes widening in horror as she flinched.

You stumbled backward, the world blurring around you as you tripped over your loose shoelace, your body rushing towards the concrete floor once again, jarring your senses and sending a wave of pain through your body.

Abby took her hands to her chest, her mouth covered in disbelief.

“fuck, fuck, fuck! Are you okay?” Ellie exclaimed, her voice filled with concern as she quickly knelt down beside you.

Your nose was now bleeding, droplets of blood scattering across the concrete floor like raindrops. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mixing with the scent of sweat. You winced as pain shot through your face, throbbing relentlessly.

“I think my nose is broken…” you managed to say, your words muffled by the blood dripping down your face.

“Now nobody can sit on her face,” Dina groaned.

#ellie williams #abby anderson #dina tlou #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie fanfic #ellie williams au #ellie fanfiction #ellie smut #abby fanfiction

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: bff'sbrother!jungkook, softdom!jungkook, enemies2lovers-ish, he's a lil annoying in this, angst, mentions of rejection, one-sided crush, afab reader, smut, fingering, dry humping, penetrative sex, overstimulation (kinda), etc.

wc: 4076

a/n: another jk fic bc im taking time off work and have nothing to do</3 this went longer than anticipated lol sorry

masterlist

"what are you doing here?", grumbled the man as soon as he opened the door and spotted you on the other side of it.

"can you get out of the way? i'm obviously here for minji."

"she doesn't get here til tomorrow," he responded, though still moving out of the way to let you in.

you were about to snark at him again when he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening when they made contact with the suitcases you were struggling to drag behind you, "why are you carrying suitcases? fuck, don't tell me you're staying here," he grabbed onto one, stopping your movements.

"yes, jungkook. minji told me i could crash here for spring break. what's it to you? your house is big enough. just ignore my presence," you attempted to move your suitcases again, knowing you'd receive no help from the boy even if you asked.

"so you're here to ruin my break?" the complaints were never ending despite having entered the home only mere moments ago.

"stop being a child and get out of my way," you grumbled when the idiot refused to remove his hand from the handle of your suitcase.

he let out a heavy sigh, scrunching his eyes closed in annoyance before speaking again, "okay, move. i'll bring your shit upstairs."

"no, i can-"

"you can't carry all this upstairs. my mom's gonna be mad if i don't offer to help you. just let go," he muttered, pushing your hands away and somehow lifting both suitcases at once as he walked towards the stairs.

without any energy to argue with him, you just followed him upstairs, annoyed he insisted to pretend to do you a favor.

"are your parents home?", you asked, confused as to why he had been the one to open the door.

"no, they went out of town this weekend. they should be here tonight."

"why are you here?"

you knew this was his home, but it was a valid question. this had been the third time you'd spent some sort of school break at minji's house, yet jungkook had never been there during the duration of it, usually only popping up for a day or two by the end of each break.

"you mean in my house?", he chuckled sarcastically.

"you're never here- you know what i meant."

"didn't have any plans this time. why? am i ruining your break?"

the two of you finally made it to the extra guest room in minji's house, with jungkook settling your stuff on the bed and uncharacteristically taking a seat on it, as if planning to hang around. you ignored the thought and went to open your suitcase, planning to unpack a few of the things since you'd be staying for over a week.

"yeah," you deadpanned.

he scoffed, "not like i wanna spend my break with you either, princess."

groaning, you threw a folded shirt at him, "ew, i told you not to call me that."

seemingly pleased at having annoyed you, he chuckled and picked up the shirt you threw, folding it and placing it on the bed. he continued to occasionally grab one thing or another as you unpacked. you always knew jungkook to be quite fidgety, so you didn't question him grabbing your stuff to entertain himself as you unpacked.

jungkook wordlessly stayed on your bed as you went around the room organizing your stuff, attempting to ignore his presence but not entirely able to. you were willing to retain peace without complaining, but then he started making noise.

you usually didn't care for his presence too much, even as badly as the two of you got along, but the constant humming quickly got on your nerves. he hummed and hummed and did not stop even as ten minutes passed by, still taking stuff from your suitcase to fidget with. currently he was entertaining himself with a random shoe.

"jungkook! why are you still here?", you suddenly snapped, confused as to why he'd been sitting on your bed with a blank look on his face despite usually being liberal in expressing his dislike for you.

he looked at you for a few moments, no emotion on his face before speaking up.

"why don't we get along?"

"what?"

"you heard me. why don't we get along? you've been friends with my sister since childhood, but you've always hated me. why?"

"you started it," you murmured, taking the shoe he currently had in his hold and turning around to place it somewhere else.

he got up, walking over to you and turning you around by your shoulders and taking the shoe from you again, "i started it? what are you talking about? you've been rude to me since the seventh grade. i've just been returning the favor."

sighing in frustration, you grabbed shook his hands off your shoulders and stubbornly grabbed the shoe again, "why do you think that is, jungkook?"

a confused look overtook his face at your insinuation of your relationship being his fault, clearly not remembering what you were referring to.

"wha-what are you talking about?"

"god, you're such a dumbass sometimes. i mean, i assumed you didn't remember, but to have confirmation of it just kinda sucks," you chuckled bitterly.

he grabbed onto your shoulders again when you tried to walk past him, "tell me what you're talking about," he insisted.

for the most part, you didn't want to. you still felt embarrassed thinking about it, even if it had been over a decade since it had happened. to know he really didn't remember the source of your dislike for him also didn't really help matters. it just frustrated you at his presence even more.

through the years you had learned not to take the mutual banter too seriously. it was mostly lighthearted, to be honest. but any time you thought back to how it had started, you became beyond angry at the boy who was seemingly nice too all those he knew but you. sure, you had technically been the one to source this animosity, but he bad been the instigator of it after all.

you had been nine years old at the time, having recently moved into town and befriended minji. she had been your salvation, becoming instantly interested in being your friend despite you being brand new. you became quick friends, hanging out inside and outside school almost every day.

minji had the good fortune of being extremely close to her family, which allowed you to bond with them quite a lot. that was when you met her older brother, one of her favorite people in the world.

jungkook had been pure perfection in your young eyes, seeing him as unattainable at the young age of nine. he was two years your senior, which made you come to the quick realization that your crush would remain one-sided forever. except this didn't stop your naive heart to read into his nice demeanor and wishfully believe that maybe he'd like you back.

you crushed on him silently for three years, even coming to befriend him in the process. you wouldn't see him too often, but it was always nice when you did, always getting along quite well. this continued up until you hit twelve years of age, your tweenhood years. unfortunately, jungkook was now into his teens, meaning that he followed the footprints of every other man and had a short-lived phase where he was a bit insensitive to girls his age.

being completely delusional and being on your way to graduate middle school, you took a leap, deciding to invite jungkook as your date to your middle school prom. you had thought you read all the signs right, thinking that even if he rejected you, he'd still be nice enough to go with you as a friend. your hopes were completely crushed when he turned you down with zero hesitance, even patronizing you in the process.

the worst part of it all came later, when you were first entering high school. somehow a few of his friends had gotten word of the situation, dubbing you as desperate and obsessed with him. although the rumors died pretty quickly, and you were able to feign indifference to jungkook and everyone else, the seed of hate began to grow in you. little by little, you stopped speaking to jungkook altogether, eventually coming to proudly dislike him. despite minji's constant questioning about your change in demeanor towards her brother, you never told, not wanting any drift to be caused between you and minji, nor her and her brother.

the gradual change in your feelings for jungkook had been so natural that it made sense for him to not remember the source of the current state of your relationship. he had caught on naturally, simply bantering back with you whenever you gave him attitude. it was likely that he believed it all to be lighthearted at first, eventually becoming accustomed enough to it to not question it.

and now you were here, having to explain a stupid childhood heartbreak to the perpetrator of it all as he stared down at you in absolute wonder.

"eighth grade, jungkook. remember?"

he shook his head in confusion, his eyes still wide as his brain wracked itself to remember.

"the dance?"

"the dance? what dan- oh! the- the dance? that's it?"

'that's it'?

he mustve caught the look of annoyance in your face, as he quickly went to retract himself.

"fuck, wait. i didn't mean it like that, just- is that why you hate me? because i said no to you?"

you took a step away from him again, still frustrated, but his arms remained on your shoulders so you would keep looking right at him. it was awkward and extremely uncomfortable considering the context, but you didn't move away.

"it wasn't just that, jungkook," you started, "was it that horrible of a thought to go to the dance with me? i was twelve, you couldve been nicer about it. and to tell your friends about it? i was mocked for weeks after that. and now you wanna act like this is my fault? like ive just been mean to you for no reason?", you scoffed, looking at your feet in favor of not having to look at him.

"wait, who ... who made fun of you? i- i never told anyone what happened. why would i do that?"

"jungkook, stop. taehyung? jimin? they wouldn't stop bringing it up for weeks. it died down after a while, but i was already humiliated."

he shook his head and denial, seemingly at himself. finally letting go of you, he sat back on the bed, look of confusion still on his face before a lightbulb metaphorically manifested itself above his head.

"oh fuck," he muttered, "i- i remember now, but it didn't go down the way you think, okay? let me explain."

you crossed your arms and nodded, signaling for him to continue.

he uncrossed his arms, running them through his hair in a frustrated fashion before he began to explain, oddly passionate as he did so, "i told them right after it happened. i felt so bad for saying no to you, they noticed how down i was about it and asked. i swear i didnt say anything bad. fuck, i never knew they teased you about it, im so sorry," he rambled, "and i didnt- i didnt mean to make you feel bad when i said no. you're my sister's best friend and- and you were so young. i know it doesnt matter anymore, but saying yes felt wrong. it felt like id be taking advantage of you somehow."

"jungkook-"

"if it makes you feel better," he hesitated before continuing, "i, uh, i kinda had a crush on you when we were 17. i- i was going to ask you to my prom, but you picked a fight with me that day and told me to get the fuck out. thats, that's kinda when i started to hate you back," he smiled awkwardly towards the end.

that took you for a bit of a loop. you weren't a heartless asshole. it wasnt like you meant to hurt him through your dislike of him, but rather protect yourself from further rejection. it made you feel bad to know that you'd somewhat done a similar thing to him at some point, even verbally berating him time after time when his intentions hadn't been malicious.

"are you serious?"

"do you really hate me? for what i did, i mean," he interrupted.

did you? for the most part, you had just grown far too used to your animosity with jungkook. due to your own mean behavior towards him, he became equally as rude, creating a vicious cycle of disrespect between the two of you. but did you hate him?

the answer was probably not.

if you did, your heart wouldn't have jumped at the mention of him having had a crush on you back when you were seventeen.

"no, i don't hate you. do you?"

he turned to you, shaking his head, "of course not," he confirmed, "do you wanna start over?", he asked, getting up from the bed and walking over to you.

you couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden proposal. you also couldnt help in nodding in agreement, confirming that yes, you'd be willing to put aside a petty middle school misunderstanding in favor of starting over.

then he opened his arms, gesturing for a hug before asking for permission for one, "hug?"

wordlessly, you accepted the offer of a friendly hug, reasoning that it was only natural considering how touchy he was with everyone other than yourself.

when you went to pull away, his arms tightened around you, head burying itself further into your hair, "just a little longer," he murmured.

with no reason to deny him, you wrapped your arms around him once more, only letting go when he started to slowly pull away.

that's when you made the mistake of looking up at him as he attempted to make himself let go of you.

seemingly, he had made the same mistake, now locking eyes with you at a proximity far too close for two people who hated each other just mere minutes ago. stupidly enough, your eyes predictably went down to his lips, not realizing his own had done the same. the only difference was that he was far more daring than you, allowing his lips to lower down onto yours and envelop them in a soft kiss.

greedy hands dug into your hips before making their way to your waist, holding you as close to him as he could. your own hands wrapped around his shoulders, moving to play with his hair as soon as the kiss turned more heated.

moaning against him, he pulled away for a second, still keeping his lips entirely too close to your own as he breathed through his nose to calm himself down. the following kiss was even more harrowing, causing you to take a step back due to the sheer force of it. he walked you back, pressing you up against the nearest wall as he took advantage of being able to crowd you, allowing his hands to get a feel of your body as you kissed.

despite how pathetically you followed his lips, he still pulled away, throwing his shirt off before going back to kissing you, letting his hands wander underneath your own shirt as he did so. his hands dug deep under your shirt, feeling up your bare breasts and groaning at the lack of bra.

gradually, his lips made their way to your ear and then down your neck, murmuring against your skin.

"fuck, so fucking pretty ... and so needy for me, huh? sound so good moaning for me like that," he breathed against you.

you burned up, embarrassed by how easily he had an effect on you, but you still let him do whatever he wanted, knowing that nothing you did would prevent your body from wanting his touch.

throwing off your shirt, his lips trailed down even further south, latching onto your nipples and groaning into your skin at the way you arched your body, pressing up even closer to him.

but suddenly there was a shift.

jungkook halted his movements, making his way back up to your lips and locking them with his own in a heavy and greedy kiss, resulting in a lack of breath from both of you. against your lips, he whispered something that made your knees buckle.

"i'm gonna pay you back for all those times you were mean to me, baby," his lips moved to your ear, chuckling at your anticipatory shudder, "gonna do whatever i want with this pretty body, yeah?"

nodding pathetically, you gave way for him to do anything he wanted. already drenched, there was no way you could possibly formulate any words that didn't come out as an embarrassing whine. he seemed to enjoy this too, holding a pleased smirk in his face as he easily dragged you over to the bed, pushing off your suitcase and dropping you on it with a bounce.

before you could even think, jungkook had already thrown off his shoes and undone his pants, his hands coming to do the same to you. your shaky hands attempted to help him, but he simply tsk'd at you, letting you know that he'd take care of everything tonight. everything, he emphasized.

"oh, fuck," he groaned once you were fully nude, "this is all mine now, yeah? fuck, been waiting for years for you to stop being a brat and let me have this pretty body all to myself," he kissed your lips between each sentence, "might lose control at how gorgeous and mine it is ..." he murmured as his hands took their rightful place exploring your body.

"kook-" you whined, already wanting him to do something – anything.

"shh, baby," he coo'd, "i'm gonna do whatever i want. and you're gonna take it like a good girl, okay? gonna behave for me for once."

fully crawling on top of you, jungkook went back to making out with you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he began humping against your already soaked cunt.

groaning, he pulled away for a second in favor of nibbling softly at your lip, "oh, this pretty pussy's so fucking soaked already ... thought you hated me, baby, what happened?" he chuckled darkly, giving you no room to answer before shoving his tongue in your mouth.

just as his tongue attempted to suck all air out of you, his hand suddenly snuck between your bodies, finding your cunt with ease and beginning to drag his fingers up and down your folds, not giving you want you needed.

"pretty fucking pussy," he murmured, "gonna play with your clit now, baby. it's gonna cry for me by the time im done."

his fingers found your clit almost immediately, taking turns in rubbing teasing circles over it and hammering in and out of your cunt. he swallowed every single moan, groaning against your lips any time your cries went so high they went straight to his cock.

"that good, pretty? so good that you have to cry for more? oh, baby. you're so lucky this pussy's so fucking cute. lucky i cant control myself around you ..."

"f-faster, please ..."

"faster? oh, like this?", his fingers slowed down drastically, barely stimulating you at all as you cried and clawed at his back, whining for more than he seemed willing to give you.

"n-no! please, just- just wanna cum, kookie. please?"

his fingers curled entirely too well at your cry of his nickname, even making him groan when he felt your own reaction to his fingers. it was clear he liked you crying out for him, so the more you did it, the more of his fingers he gave you, leading you to the verge of an orgasm.

afraid he'd try and deny you just for sadistic means, you cried for him prematurely, begging him to let you cum.

"kookie, p-please, please let me cum, i-i'll do anything. i'll give you anything, just, fuck, please!"

there was not a single care in you about how pathetic and out of character you sounded, not when jungkook's wasnt faring any better at the effect your desperation had on him.

"cum. cum for me, baby. wanna feel that cunt cream around my fingers so i can fill it back up with my own, okay? be good for me and- fuck, and cum ..." as much as he wanted to be in charge and show a dominant side to him, your cunt just kept dragging his fingers back in, making him feel a carnal need to steal your orgasm all for himself and many others after this one.

your hand wrapped around his free wrist, needing it as support as an otherworldly orgasm took over you. back arching and eyes rolling back, you became a sight that jungkook had only ever seen in his most depraved of dreams about you. he was surprised at his cock not bursting upon such an arousing view, making him realize that he needed to fuck you as soon as posible before losing his mind.

despite talking you through your orgasm, jungkook still gave you no time to recover before shoving his tongue in your mouth and grabbing his dick to drag up and down your sensitive folds.

crying against him, you attempted to push him away at first, feeling too sensitive for immediate stimulation, but your body gave up quickly after, melting into the overload of pleasure. tears crowded in your eyes, but your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, needing more of that pressure against your cunt.

taking the hint and far too horny to drag this out any longer, he pushed inside you, groaning against you at the feeling of finally being wrapped around your warmth.

"it's so fucking wet ... oh, fuck. you wanted this so bad, didnt you, baby? fucking soaked and just pulling me in ... it's so- so tight n warm n perfect for me," he babbled, lost in pleasure.

jungkook's hips were restless against yours, an insatiable desire to chase for his pleasure taking over him as the sound of skin slapping made him dizzy. the occasional babble accompanied by a pitiful hiccup that came out of you did not help his situation, making him fear that he might cum before you.

"let- let me just get my finger there- yeah, fuck. just gonna rub that tiny little clit, okay? shit, you just tightened around my cock so fucking good ..." he groaned, thumb circling your clit to accelerate your orgasm.

"g-gonna, fuck, gonna cum ... p-please ... with me? cum with me?" you begged, barely able to get a single coherent word out while jungkook showed no mercy against you.

nodding, he kissed you, promising he'd cum – begging you to cum. counting you down, he whispered against your ear while his hips stuttered messily against your own, now completely overtaken by both yours and his orgasm.

the sounds shared between the two of you were nothing short of shameful, consisting of whines and cries filled with desperation. it was a depraved scene only meant for the two of you to enjoy.

pulling out of you proved to be a challenge, as jungkook would happily remained inside you until his last breath, but the thought of holding you innocently in his arms as you caught your breath was something he did not want to miss out on.

and so he held you against him, crowding your face against his chest so you could lay your head right by his heart.

"that was-"

"yeah," he breathed with a chuckle before turning to you with a boyish smile on his face, "i have a confession to make."

you turned around too, unable to not match his smile, "what is it?"

"i lied earlier. i, uh, i did like you when you were seventeen, but ... i kinda still like you."

it was impossible not to feel your face warm up at this, scrunching up your nose at how cutely he had confessed, "what if i said it was mutual?"

his smile somehow got bigger at that, "then i'd say i'm gonna have to steal you away from my sister," he pulled you into his chest again, enjoying the vibrations of your laugh.

a/n: this was rushed and not proofread sorry</3

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts oneshot #bts scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (24/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Furniture shopping is more exciting when there's talks about buying new stuff - like a bed.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut), fluff, Kika is the bestest friend on this planet

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: hello loves! part twenty-four is here and I hope you enjoy it! feedback is appreciated!!!

The fact that Kika is just lying on your bed instead of snuggling up completely in your fluffy blanket is a miracle. 

"I liked the light blue mom jeans best," she says as you stand in front of the large mirror leaning against the wall next to the door to your room and look at yourself. "With the white oversized turtleneck - smash."

You look at her through the mirror. "Haha."

"I'm serious." She leans on her elbows and tilts her head. "If you wear white sneakers with it, it'll even work with the sandwich method. I've seen it on TikTok. And I swear to you - people will turn their heads to look at you."

"I don't want people turning their heads at me," you confess quietly, adjusting the soft fabric of your top. "I just want to look halfway okay."

"Trust me. You look more than okay."

After Kika and Pierre have stormed your apartment with their spare key - which at first annoyed you, but in the next moment made you feel quite relieved - your girlfriend has taken it upon herself to unpack your suitcase and pick out an outfit for you that matches your trip to the furniture store.

Unpacking your suitcase simply consisted of pulling out one item at a time and tossing it aside if it didn't meet her expectations. The pile of clothes next to the bed is the result of her search.

" Let it go," she warns you as you adjust the position of the hem of the sweater on your shoulder. "You look good. When I think about my first outfit as Pierre's girlfriend - it was pure horror."

"But I'm not a girlfriend," you reply as you reach for the jeans Kika is holding out to you. "I'm his friend. His roommate. Nothing more," you exhale, "and nothing less."

The Portugese woman watches you slip into your pants. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Caught off guard, you look at her. Are your feelings for the Monegasque so obvious that she can even see it on your face? Is your affection written all over your forehead? You can't name your emotional state, you can't say a word that could even begin to describe what you feel for Charles - but there's no question that it's definitely something other than pure friendship. 

No matter how often and vehemently you try to convince yourself that Charles is your friend, you are an incredibly bad liar. 

"I remember being incredibly nervous the first time we went out in public. I think I changed outfits three or four times before I was halfway happy."

Oh.

You sit down on the edge of the bed with her. "I want all of this. I want him." You clear your throat as Kika gives you a meaningful look. "His friendship, that is. And I'm also willing to take the risk of people not liking me and talking badly about me." You clasp your hands in your lap.

Kika sits up straight. "But?"

You curl your lips into a thin line. "I - I don't know." How do you explain to her that you're worried that his fans could dislike you so much that they doubt Charles? You're going public as friends, something that bothers you a little more than it should. But the Monegasque has also said that people will think what they want. 

What if they hate you so much - your looks, your mediocrity, your being - that Charles catches on and he realizes they're right in their opinion?

"I just want to make a good impression."

Your friend reaches for your hand. "You will. And after all, you're just friends. The public's opinion isn't all that important." You don't see her look, which says so much more than what she actually says.

"Right."

Kika lets go of your hand and stands up from the bed. "I'll be with you the whole time. We'll work it out. I promise." She tosses her long hair over her shoulder. "So, let's get going. This room is pretty bleak and could use some color," she says before pulling you off the bed and out of the room.

As you slip into your shoes at the front door, the men join you.

"So, Pierre and I are sitting -" Charles begins, but suddenly stops when he sees you. His eyes wander over your body and goose bumps spread along their path. He remains silent until Pierre nudges him. "Uhm, sorry. Yes. We - um - we're both going to sit in the front of the car because -" He scratches the back of his neck nervously, but can't take his eyes off you. "The plan is for Kika and you to go through the furniture store together and Pierre is coming with me. Just so that we are seen together as little as possible, but are still out and about together," he explains. 

You understand why this is all going to happen. He wants to protect you and you want to let him, but you can't stop your heart from getting a little bruised. 

When Kika notices your offended look, she crosses her arms in front of her chest. "So much planning for simple shopping with friends? Is that really necessary?"

As you look up from your shoes, you look straight into Charles' beautiful green eyes. Something that looks exactly like how you feel flickers across his face. "It is." He stands up straight. "Shall we?"

Kika smiles gently at you. "Let's liven this place up a bit, then." She grabs Pierre's hand and together the two of them walk out of the apartment towards the elevator, while Charles and you stay behind. You both look after them. 

"Is everything all right?" asks the Monegasque and stands next to you. 

"Everything's fine," you answer him curtly. You don't dare look at him. 

"Y/N," he says as he gently grasps your wrist and turns you towards him. "Mon amour, you know why I'm doing this, don't you?" His hand slips a little lower so your fingers can intertwine.

"'Mh-hmm." 

"Hey." His other hand rests gently against your cheek, making you look at him. "Hey." His thumb gently strokes your cheekbone. "I'm trying to protect you. That's my priority. Making sure you're okay is my priority. And if that means we can't walk through any stores next to each other for now, just so the public can get used to you, then I'll put up with it." His gaze twitches briefly to your mouth. "Even if it's not what I want."

You nuzzle your face against his warm hand. "And what do you want?" you ask softly. 

"You." 

His answer makes the blood sizzle in your veins. It feels as if the warmth of his skin is burning through your face, as if the nerve endings under your skin are sending little electric shocks through your muscles and forcing your heart to stop. You take a deep breath.

"I want you near me." He squeezes your hand twice before pulling away. Your skin feels cooler without his touch. "But I'm responsible for what happens in public. And I don't want to risk anything happening to you because of me."

You nod weakly before wordlessly following the befriended couple. You hear Charles behind you, but you don't wait for him as you walk quickly to the others. The atmosphere in the elevator is tense as you are transported towards the underground garage, but no one tries to ease the tension. Kika and Pierre look at each other a little uncertainly, something that doesn't escape your gaze, and you can't blame them. The situation is just awful.

Pierre has thought far ahead, because when he presses a button on his car key, a large SUV opens up in the underground parking garage, sure to fit some decorative items. Charles' Ferrari, or God forbid your old Renault, might have been able to fit a picture frame, or at most a small mirror. 

You sit behind Charles, who has taken a seat in the passenger seat. Kika and Pierre are talking through the rear-view mirror while you look out of the window.

The longer you think about what Charles said - or didn't say - the more uncomfortable you feel. The hem of the sweater seems to have slipped, the collar feels too tight and the sleeves are scratching your elbows. You're not sure what you were hoping for, what the right answer would have been. But you're not particularly happy with the one you got. 

You also want to be close to him, permanently. And you can also understand why the plan involves you staying away from each other inside the furniture store. But is that really necessary if you're just friends? Has he done something similar with his other female friends, or are you the only one who has to put up with this fuss? 

Your thoughts are going round and round in your head, but as if by magic they suddenly come to a standstill. But it's not magic, it's Charles' hand that has squeezed past his seat on the right and is now gripping your leg. You feel his fingers slide under the fabric of your jeans, where they rest against your calf. 

You try to regulate your breathing, but you can hear the blood pounding in your ears. Charles touching you is nothing new. You've been touching each other non-stop since last night, which doesn't help your feelings or your friendship, but it still feels indescribably good. 

It feels right the way his calloused hand wraps around your soft calf. It felt right the way his thumb stroked your cheek. It felt right to lie half-naked next to him in bed. 

It felt right to want him as something more. More than a roommate. More than a friend. 

And that's exactly why you slide your foot towards the car door, so that Charles can touch you more easily. You block out the voice that keeps whispering hypocrite to you as best you can. And the warmer his skin feels on yours, the tighter his fingers close around your calf, the better it works. 

"I'll let you both out right at the entrance and we'll park in the back of the parking lot," Pierre interrupts your thoughts before they're no longer PG. "You can go inside and we'll follow. That's the easiest way."

"Thank you very much," Charles says. "I'm sorry we're shamelessly taking advantage of you."

Pierre has to grin. "You're welcome to give me a position in Bahrain, then we'd be even."

"You'd have to get close to me on the track first."

The two men argue amicably until the car comes to a halt in front of the deserted entrance. Just as you are about to open the door, Charles's fingers gently squeeze your leg twice and you have to suppress a smile, otherwise Kika would tease you endlessly. As you both get out and the car drives away, she latches on to you. 

"Are you ready?" she asks as you walk towards the glass door together. 

"Definitely."

Kika has very good taste in decorating and if she hadn't become a model, she could definitely have worked at Ikea putting together those fake rooms. As you push a shopping cart in front of you, she skips through the aisles, grabbing anything that matches in color or style. Picture frames, vases, mirrors and fake plants that would look good on the windowsill in your room. 

She's examining which of the candles in front of her would go better with the vases in the shopping cart when your cell phone vibrates in your pocket. 

Charles: If one of the candles burns down our apartment, I'll have to charge you rent. 

Confused, you read the message before looking up and around. Charles is standing about twenty meters away from you, smiling at you over the shelves. You bite the inside of your cheek.

You: You don't need my money, Mr. Ferrari. After all, you make millions a year. 

You raise an eyebrow challengingly as Charles reads your message. You can see his grin clearly, even from this distance. 

Charles: If you burn down my expensive apartment, I'll have to find a new one, and they're not exactly cheap in Monaco, as you know. 

You: I thought it was our apartment?

Charles: If you let it burn down, you're welcome to keep it.

You: So you'd let me keep it? Our apartment?

Charles: I'd give you anything, mon amour. You just have to ask for it. 

You don't have time to think about his answer because Kika throws a stuffed animal dinosaur in your face. 

"Are you done flirting?" she asks, playing annoyed. "I'm trying to decorate your room and you'd rather flirt than help me."

You feel the blood rush to your face. "Excuse me?"

Her grin almost reaches your ears. "Gotcha."

"You can't possibly have caught me doing something I wasn't doing," you try to wriggle out of it, but Kika has bitten down like a little terrier.

"And why are you looking like you've eaten the last spoonful of tiramisu without asking if anyone else wants the rest?" 

"I haven't eaten any tiramisu," you defend yourself and hug the green stuffed animal tightly to your chest. 

"Not yet," she says gently and puts one of the candles in the cart with the rest. "But I'm afraid you could get diabetic if you're not careful with the tiramisu. A small piece is fine, but a double portion could almost be too much." 

You narrow your eyes. "I haven't eaten any tiramisu." Without taking your eyes off her, you put the green dino in the shopping cart too. "And I don't intend to."

"You're a bad liar," she says and stands next to you, wrapping her arms tightly around you. "But that's all right. I still love you. And when your room looks really cool soon, I'll take the outfit pictures for my Instagram in front of your mirror."

She gives you a peck on the cheek and you roll your eyes. "Charles was right. We need to change the locks, then you can't disturb us anymore."

"Disturb? Disturbing what? Eating tiramisu?" she grins and you would have loved to suffocate her with the green dino. Apparently Kika can read minds, because she quickly lets go of your arms and continues to skip happily through the corridors while you follow her with the shopping cart. 

"How much do you think the things you picked out for me cost?" you ask her as she picks out more plants.

She takes a look at the shopping cart. "Something between two hundred and five hundred euros," she replies with a shrug.

"Kika, that's too much. Way too much," you try to stop her as she walks over to the rugs on display. "I can't pay for it. I'm unemployed, remember?" You're about to turn the shopping cart around and return the selected items to their rightful places, but Kika stands in your way. 

"Charles offered to pay for this," she says, confused, resting her perfectly manicured hands on the metal grille of the cart. 

"He what?" you ask, looking around in the hope of spotting Charles somewhere. But he's nowhere to be seen.

"Pierre sent me a text message to leave the car at the checkouts when we're done. He said that Charles wanted to pay for it and that we should wait outside for them," she explains, tilting her head. "I thought he would have told you. I know you're unemployed, but because of the text message, I thought that - I assumed we could just pick out nice items without looking at the price."

You run your tongue over your teeth. "Give me a moment, please," you say briefly and leave her standing there with the shopping cart. 

You walk through every aisle, looking over every shelf in the hope of seeing Charles standing somewhere. And when, after ten minutes, you spot his brown curls in the furthest corner of the store, you don't care if the two of you are seen together. He's standing in front of a gray, hip-high box spring, with nice, dark bedding and comfortable-looking pillows placed on it. When you stop next to him, he doesn't look at you.

"I want to buy a new bed," he begins the conversation. "The one I have now is too low for me. What do you think of this one? I've tried it out. It's really comfortable and the perfect height for -" He falls silent before he can finish the sentence. 

"Kika says you want to pay for my things," you change the subject without answering his question. You don't take your eyes off the bed either. 

"That's correct."

"I don't want that," you say tersely. "I don't want you to pay for it."

"But I want to," he replies, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. "Think of it as a gift."

"As a gift?" You raise an eyebrow. "As a gift for what?"

"For your friendship."

"You can have my friendship without buying me new things," you assure him, but you fall on deaf ears. 

"But I want to. I have so much money that I can't spend on my own, so I want to buy you nice things." He leans a little towards you so that your hands touch. "How expensive are the things? One thousand, two thousand euros?"

"Kika says five hundred at most."

"Then think of it as a small, early Christmas present," he says gently. Before you can object, he continues. "I want you to feel comfortable and if it costs me some money, then so be it. And it won't hurt my bank account in the slightest. So just say thank you and accept the gift."

"Thank you," you whisper reluctantly, but you know that it wouldn't do any good to go against his wishes. "Did you find something you want to buy?"

He smiles. "This bed, apparently. And bedding. And a mirror."

"Doesn't sound bad. I just hope you have as good a taste as Kika. After all, our things have to match," you joke.

Charles turns his head in your direction. "Then lie down on the bed, mon amour. I'd like to see how you look on it before I spend thousands of euros on it." As he says it and his fingers curl around your wrist, that feeling blossoms in your chest again.

You want to throw him on the bed in front of you, kiss him until you can't breathe and touch him until you can see stars. You want to feel his warm skin under your fingertips, feel his muscles tense as he pulls you on top of him and presses you against his firm body. You want to feel his weight on you as he lays you down on the bed and his lips trail down from your mouth. You want to - 

"Do you really think I'm going to try sleeping without you again when we've figured out that we both sleep better when we're together?" he asks, gently stroking the thin skin on your wrist with his thumb. You hope he can't feel your racing pulse underneath. "When we first met, you said that you hadn't had a decent night's sleep in a long time. And if it means I have to hold you in my arms so you can get a good night's sleep, then so be it. And it's not as if I don't enjoy having you close to me."

Before you can answer him, you feel a person standing at your other side and when you look, Kika is standing there. Her gaze flickers briefly to your hands before she turns to the bed as well. "Do any of you fancy a bite to eat?" she asks. "There's a restaurant nearby that serves incredibly good tiramisu. And it's never busy. We can go there if you like." She turns slightly in your direction and nudges you. "What about you? Do you want some tiramisu?"

More like a need than a want.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fanfiction #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc cute #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x female oc #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic

[eddiesghxst]

❆ Let It Snow - a christmas smutty special ❆

happy holidays lovelys!!! ilysm and i hope you all have a beautiful rest of your year, here is a cute n quick little Christmas smutty blurb as my gift to u <3

also, this is not proofread i apologize for any mistakes <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: roomate!eddie munson x reader

summary: your flight home gets canceled on christmas eve and Eddie just wants to cheer you up

contains: friends to lovers trope, reader loves christmas (she's so me), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected - be smart pls), creampie, lots of Christmas cheer, and eddie being the cutest most kindest boy there ever was <3

word count: 3.6k

-masterlist-

Christmas is ruined.

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’ve been rotting away in your room all day— it’s now almost six in the afternoon— and Christmas is ruined.

In the corner of your room, your bags lay in a pile, packed and ready to go for the flight home you were supposed to be on just less than an hour ago. Your mother was devastated when you called her to break the news that you wouldn’t be home in time for Christmas, and although she tried her hardest to mask it over the phone, acting was never really her niche.

You’d already cried once this morning, a pathetic sob that inevitably escaped the second you opened your blinds and saw the blinding-white thick blanket of snow covering Hawkins. It’s not common, heavy winter snows in Indiana, so when the news mentioned that there would be a chance of snow, you didn’t think much of it.

Wrong choice.

You should’ve changed your ticket immediately and got on the next plane to Oregon, where your family would be with warm laughter and endless amounts of food, not to mention the traditional tree lighting you’d miss out on. But now, you’re stuck in Hawkins, chest hollow and cold from the undeniable fact that you will miss Christmas with your family this year.

Suddenly, you hear a raspy curse from the other side of your wall, followed by haste movements and the rustling of sheets and clothes. Eddie’s finally up from his nap. You can’t wait to tell him how stupid you’d been to book a flight so late on Christmas Eve.

Before you can even think of getting up and going to Eddie’s room, the man bursts through your door with a frazzled look as his gaze darts around the room, “Why didn’t you wake me? You’re gonna be late for your flight!” He panics. It’s sweet, really. The way your roommate paces over to your bags and looks at you with a ‘Why aren’t these in the car yet?’ look. It almost makes you hopeful that somehow, now that Eddie’s bright and sunny self is awake, he can find a way to get you home just in time for Christmas.

Obviously, it's not happening, considering Eddie isn’t a god, but one can dream.

You groan, tossing over in your bed to burrow your face deep into your sheets as you mumble into the soft cotton, “I’m not going anymore.” You grumble.

You can hear Eddie’s frown when he responds, “What? What do you mean you’re not going?”

You huff, heart aching as you reply, “Have you looked outside by any chance?”

You don’t turn to watch, but you can hear the shuffling sound of Eddie walking over to your window, shucking the blinds open, and peering out into the parking lot of your apartment that’s covered in that godawful snow. Eddie lets out a sound, something between surprise and sympathy, and it only makes the frown on your face deepen.

“Well… shit,” Eddie says.

You turn over and sit up, huffing as you shove your sheets out of your way, “Yeah. Have fun trying to figure out a way to get me across the country with that type of weather.” You grunt, kicking your legs over the side of your bed to stand and shuffle over to the packed suitcases. You figure you may as well unpack since you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

“So when are the airports gonna clear, did they say?” Eddie asks.

You huff as you unfold jeans and tops, mind reeling with scenarios of what you should’ve done to prevent this. “Not until tomorrow afternoon. Christmas will be done by then, and most of my family will be back in their respective homes, so… looks like you’re stuck with me, Munson.”

Which, sure Eddie practically threw a fit when you told him you’d be out of town for the holidays, but you still feel as if you’re intruding. Eddie was supposed to have Wayne come over tomorrow, but you’re going to be here probably sulking, and it’ll be awkward and pitiful, and it’s just not at all what you’d wanted your or Eddie’s Christmas to be like! 

“...Okay, well,” Before you can fully register what’s happening, Eddie is closing your suitcase and grabbing your hands, dragging you up to your feet and ignoring your confusion as he speaks, “You can’t spend Christmas like this, sweetheart. You’ll end up like the Grinch. Do you wanna be the Grinch? Don’t tell me you wanna be the Grinch.” Eddie rambles as he drags you out of your room.

You try to fight a smile at Eddie’s rapid fire of words, but you fail as you shake your head, “No, I don’t want to be the Grinch, asshole.” You grumble as he drops your hand.

Eddie drops your hand and claps loudly, a bright grin spreading over his lips when he turns to you, “Wonderful! Then we have to get in the Christmas spirit.”

Eddie leaves you confused in the small hallway of your shared apartment, watching as he chaoticly prances over to the kitchen. He slows down and turns back to you once he sees you’re not following him, a confused expression painting over his face. “Well? Are you gonna leave me to bake alone, or are you gonna join?”

And well, you’ve never seen Eddie even pick up a baking pan, so it’s safe to say this will be interesting.

Eddie is absolutely terrible with ingredients. 

You and Eddie both decided to bake cookies, but instead of regular chocolate chips, Eddie pitched in the idea of using red and green M&Ms for the holiday effect, which you thought was pretty clever. The only problem is Eddie can’t measure for shit.

The recipe calls for two tablespoons of cornstarch, Eddie two and a half— damn near three. The next step says to mix in a third of a cup of cooking oil, but Eddie puts in much too little. It’s odd, considering his past with drug dealing, but you don’t mention it and instead opt to discreetly correct his mistakes whenever he turns his back to grab something else.

You both end up covered in flour because the pesky powder honestly just doesn't under the concept of gravity, and you laugh when you see some coating Eddie’s eyelashes. “What’s so funny, chef?” He asks.

You smile, “Nothing, you’ve just got… you got some on your eyes.” You reach up with a gentle hand, the sleeves of your sweater long enough to pull over your thumb so you can carefully dust off the white powder.

Eddie’s eyes are so bright and attentive this close, watching your every move with a type of sincerity you’ve only ever seen on screens from Grammy-nominated films and such. It makes your chest warm, and your knees quiver as his lips split into a smile, “Thank you, princess.” He softly says. You nod, and you swear Eddie’s eyes fucking twinkle.

You clear your throat, blinking away and stepping back to clear whatever trance from your mind, “Well,” You heavily sigh, “The cookies are in the oven for the next hour, so… I think I’m gonna go read.”

“Actually,” Eddie pipes up, softly reaching out and letting his fingers brush against yours, “I was thinking we could watch a Christmas movie. Unless if you’re sick of me, I totally get it; I’ll call you when the cookies are ready.”

Which couldn’t be further from the truth. You didn’t want to read. Hell, you don’t even have a new book to read; you’ve gone through your entire reading list.

“Oh! Well, what movie did you have in mind?”

“Home Alone. Obviously.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re a Christmas amateur, Eddie, did you know that?”

Eddie waves a dismissive hand as you begin to smile, reaching out to spin you around and shove you toward your room, “Just go get in some comfy clothes.”

You snort as you follow his instructions, shuffling over to your room to change out of your flour-coated clothing. It takes you some time to dig through your suitcase, but you eventually find the cute pajama set you bought for the holidays and slip it on, eager to return to the living room and join Eddie.

When you step into the living room, you don’t expect to see furniture pushed out of the way and Eddie standing in the middle as he pushes his queen-sized mattress down to lie right in the middle of the room—your heart races when you realize what Eddie’s done.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You softly ask.

Eddie looks up at you, heavily breathing as he places his hands on his hips, “It’s Christmas Eve!” He beams. You tilt your head with a scolding expression, “I remember you saying you did this with your family, so I figured we gotta keep the tradition going.” He shrugs.

And god, Eddie’s so lovely. Too nice for his own good, really. Your entire body warms at the gesture, watching as he bustles around the apartment, grabbing blankets and pillows to make a comfy nest-like bed.

Seeing Eddie prepare the room wasn’t confusing because you kind of figured that’s what he was doing when you initially saw it, but you became concerned when you saw him drag a tall fake plant across the room.

Eddie steps back and gazes at the fake plant, face twisted in concentration, “Where should it go? The corner, right?” He turns to you. Your brows scrunch in confusion, “Uh… you’re losing me.”

Eddie blinks at you as if you’ve just asked him if the sky is blue, “The Christmas tree, doll. Where should it go?”

You raise an eyebrow, “That’s not a Christmas tree, Eddie, that’s a fake Cat Palm.” Eddie makes a face as if you’ve insulted him, “Says who?”

“Says anyone with general knowledge of the world.” “Why can’t this tree be a Christmas tree? As far as I know, they both have the same qualities that allow them to classify as a tree.” And you’re not going to argue with Eddie on that because he’s being sweet, and you’re interested to see what wacky plan he’s concocted in that brain of his.

So, for the next hour or so, you and Eddie sit on his comfy bed in the living room and use copy paper to cut out shitty snowflakes to put on the ‘Christmas tree’ as you watch Home Alone.

It’s undeniably the most fun you’ve had in a while, and you and Eddie turn your craft into a competition to see who can make the best snowflake, but you keep snipping the wrong spots to create an absolute disgrace of a snowflake. Eddie thinks they’re ‘fucking insane. In a good way!’ though, so you can’t complain.

“These are fucking awful.”

Home Alone 2 is playing, the Christmas tree is fully decorated, and you and Eddie have settled in his bed with a plate full of cookies. It’s a cozy little setup you’ve got, and your cheeks are warm from laughter, and you’ve never felt this content with anyone besides family. And to make matters even better, the cookies taste like absolute shit.

You look at Eddie, gazing at his horrified expression momentarily before bursting into a snort. Eddie looks at you, terror written across his face as you fold in laughter. 

“These are seriously the worst cookies I’ve ever tasted.” He reiterates. 

You manage to calm your laughter down just enough to respond, “They’re not that bad.” 

You and Eddie share a look before you burst into laughter again, “Yeah, they’re pretty bad.” You admit. Eddie joins you in laughter, shaking his head as he offers you the plate of cookies so you can put your half-bitten cookie away. “Remind me to never enter a bake-off,” Eddie grumbles as he reaches over to set the cookies on the coffee table pushed off to the side.

You and Eddie settle into his cozy bed then, content on holiday cheer and the comforting presence of one another. You’re pressed close to each other so you can share the bowl of popcorn you’d made, and you try to ignore how the close proximity makes your insides squeal. You glance at Eddie as you roll an unpopped kernel between your fingers.

“Thank you.”

Eddie turns to you, eyebrows raised in alert. You gesture to the atmosphere of your apartment, “For this, I mean. You didn’t have to do any of this.” 

Eddie makes a face and waves you off, “It’s nothing, princess. Couldn’t have you sad on your favorite holiday of the year.”

Your cheeks warm as you gaze at Eddie, chest feeling so much appreciation for his efforts today. Eddie didn’t have to do any of this. He could’ve just said sorry for your shit luck and called it a day, but he took it upon himself to make your ruined holiday into, arguably, one of the best Christmas you’ve had in a while.

“I mean, come on, you heard how badly I was begging you to stay home anyway. Some might even say I got Mother Nature to ring in a favor.” He jokes as he gently nudges his shoulder against yours. You roll your eyes, briefly returning to the movie as you respond, “You’re dramatic, Eddie. I was gonna be gone for two days.” You point out.

“Two days too long!” He stresses, “What was I supposed to do while you were gone?”

You snort, tossing popcorn in your mouth before speaking, “You were gonna be with Wayne anyway; you’d hardly even think about me.” You wave.

Eddie makes a displeased noise, poking at the popcorn in the bowl, “That’s not true.” He softly responds. You glance at Eddie, heart racing when he locks eyes with you. “Wayne isn’t half as pretty as you, so.” He jokes, a small smile spreading across his lips.

You shyly smile, “You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

Eddie smiles with his eyes, “I think you’re gorgeous, actually.”

And god, you think you imagine it when Eddie’s gaze falls to your lips, but then he’s reaching out to gently drag his thumb across your bottom lip. You lean into him on instinct, body aching for his touch, lips crying out to feel his lips on yours, and thankfully, Eddie doesn’t make you wait long before leaning forward.

Eddie’s lips are soft and perfect for kissing. Plump and addicting to the touch as he moves in tandem with you, hands gently caressing your face as you press into each other. You can’t contain the whine bubbling in your throat, and you almost feel embarrassed, but Eddie responds with a moan, hands moving south to softly grab your waist and pull you closer.

You almost can’t believe this is happening— you making out with your roommate on Christmas Eve— but you figure it was about time that you two shattered the thick wall of tension and desire that’d been building between you both. Stolen glances and lingering touches in the kitchen, too-close dancing at parties, and almost kisses during goodbyes have all led to this very moment as Eddie shifts to lay you back into the mountain of pillows.

You shakily breathe against Eddie’s lips when his fingers dust across your stomach, softly pressing into your warm skin to pull a squeal from your lips. You can feel the spread of his smile against the corner of our mouth, and you squirm as he peppers a few kisses there, “Gonna let me taste you, princess?” He asks, fingers caressing the skin just above the waistband of your festive shorts. You swallow heavily and nod, eyes dancing with his when he leans back just enough to see your face. “Words?”

“Yeah. Yes, please.”

Your voice hardly even sounds like your own. Needy and higher pitched and almost humiliating, but Eddie’s smattering kisses down your chin and neck, hands riding your shirt up your stomach so he can kiss the warm skin there. You softly exhale, reaching up to sink your fingers through his hair and gently tug. He groans against you, softly nipping the fat of your hip as his fingers curl over the band of your shorts. He drags the pants down your legs, sitting up to take them off and toss them to the side. He parts your thighs, a smug grin spreading across his lips as he gazes down at you, your socked feet digging into the sheets as he runs his ringed hands up your legs. “Stop staring.” You grumble.

Eddie chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your stomach and then the band of your panties, “Candy canes, huh?” He peers up at you as he plays with the tiny bow on your pelvis. Your face warms, center throbbing as you squirm beneath him. “Hey,” You frown, “It was a matching set and I thought they were cute.” You explain, nudging him with your foot. Which is true, the set came with a bra, panties, and socks, and it was on sale, so of course you bought it.

Eddie laughs as he settles on his stomach, “Oh, you’re fuckin’ precious,” He beams to himself. Your chest warms, and he leans forward to kiss just over your covered clit, “I love them, sweetheart.” Another kiss pressed to your hip this time. “I love them a lot, actually.” A kiss to the other hip, and you squirm. His lashes flutter when he peers up at you, fingers squeezing your hips as he speaks, “Unfortunately… they’re kind of in the way.”

You playfully roll your eyes, losing the fight to your smile as you respond, “Just take them off, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, hands moving quicker than you’ve ever seen to get rid of the candy cane printed barrier, happily settling back on his stomach and curling his hands around your thighs to pull you closer. He doesn’t give you any warning when he dives in, licking a thick and wet line from your entrance to your clit. He circles the tip of his tongue over your clit, grinning when you moan and twitch from the sensation. He hums as he suckles your clit into his mouth, licking and sucking as if his life depends on it, fingers squeezing at your thighs and hips. You’re drowning in pleasure, but you think you can hear the muffled sound of Eddie mumbling, ‘Fuck, you taste so good’ against you, and it makes your head spin.

You’re a goner when he sinks two fingers into you, expertly curling up against that toe-curling spot to have you crying out his name and arching up into him. He hums against you, nodding his head in encouragement as you cum on his tongue.

You’re blinking through a pleasure-filled haze when Eddie kisses up your body, sticky lips smearing wet pecks across your stomach as he pushes your shirt further up.

You help each other undress the rest of the way, your limbs shaky and clumsy from your orgasm, and Eddie chuckles but kisses you when you glare at him. Your hand wraps around his cock, but Eddie shakes his head, grasping your wrist as he pushes you back into his bed, “I can’t wait. Next time, yeah? Need you now.”

You wouldn’t dream of saying no.

The stretch of Eddie is so much yet so good. It burns, and it takes your breath away, but it sends chills up your back with the heavenly sensation as he presses into you, balls pressing against your ass as he leans over you and moans against your lips. “F–fuck. Jesus, you feel so fucking good.” 

You mewl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing your body into him. “Please, Eddie. Please fuck me, please.”

“Yeah,” He gently coos as he pulls out. He pushes back in, watching as your eyes flutter shut and your lips part in ecstasy, and he hums, “There we go. Taking me so well, baby. Gonna give it all to you— h-holy shit.”

He builds his pace slowly but surely, and you’re so embarrassingly close by the time he’s steadily pumping into you, the loud sound of your sex echoing between your bodies in tandem with your moans. 

You moan, nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders as you breathe him in, digging your face into his neck and finding solace in the curtain of his curly strands as he holds you close. Eddie groans when you throb around his aching cock, and he nods, “Give it to me. Cum on my cock, baby. Let me feel it.” He gently encourages you, a warm hand pressing into your back as he kisses your neck. You don’t know if you could get any closer, your chests pressed together, skin sticky with sweat as you grind against one another.

You tip over the edge quicker than you’d want to because you want this to last forever, but Eddie coos and holds you through it all, and you feel like you’re floating through clouds of stardust with Eddie kissing you and thrusting into you.

You’re out of it when Eddie cums. So far gone and high on pleasure that all you can do is moan and nuzzle into his neck to kiss and lick and bite as he empties himself into your pulsing cunt.

You’re both breathing heavily, Eddie collapsing against you but holding himself up just enough so he doesn’t crush you. You’re both silent as you catch your breath, softly running your fingers through Eddie’s hair as the ending credits to Home Alone 2 roll. Against the skin of your neck, you feel Eddie’s lips spread into a sleepy smile, and you can’t help but smile as well as you speak, “What?” You softly ask.

Eddie breathes, shifting so he can nuzzle his face further into your neck, breathing in the scent of you and sex.

“Nothing, just… I’m so fucking glad it snowed.”

#HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVE #EAT LOTS OF FOOD AND SWEETS TODAY !! #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things au #roomate!eddie munson #roomate!eddie munson x reader #eddie smut

[vivwritesfics]

(Oh My God) They Were Roommates

Chapter One - I Hate You

Is me starting another series before my dissertation a really bad idea? Yes, yes it is (but i had the idea and I need to get it written down asap)

Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.

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"Get out of my apartment!"

In the doorway of a little two bedroom apartment in Woking was Y/N L/N. She had a bad on her back and at least three suitcases behind her. And in front of her was Lando Norris, her teammate, biggest rival and mortal enemy.

Lando stared at her, dumbfounded. "Your apartment?" He repeated, expression still shocked. "No, Zac said this one is for me."

"Then why did he give me a key for apartment 241?"

They held up the exact same set of keys on the exact same keyring. Lando let out a sigh through his nose as he pocketed his version of the key. "Somebody clearly has royally fucked up," he said and sat on the couch.

"I'm gonna call him," said Y/N as she put the key back into her pocket. She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her jeans and dialled the number of her boss.

Zac Brown had been hers and Lando's boss for the last year and few months. He'd been dealing with hers and Lando's shit from day one, ever sine they revealing the McLaren car for that year. They'd almost gotten onto a fight on the stage in front of everybody.

Zac picked up the phone in just a few rings. "How're you liking the new place?" He asked in way of hello.

"It's great, Zac. Except it comes with an annoying little prick," Y/N spat.

There was a second where Zac didn't say anything. He saw this coming, had tried to mitigate it as best he could by telling Lando he'd be getting a roommate. Of course, he didn't say who that roommate would be: that would have just been asking for trouble.

But, then again, all of this was asking for trouble. Zac had been waiting for a call from at least one of them since he got into the office (he'd hoped it would have been Lando; over the past year he'd proven himself to be easier to deal with than Y/N, who didn't back down. No matter what).

"Get yourself unpacked, I'll deal with you tomorrow," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Zac put the phone down. He didn't say goodbye to his drivers, unless it was on race days. With nowhere left to go, Y/N dragged her things into the apartment. "Where's the second bedroom?" She grumbled as she looked down at Lando.

Without looking away from the television, Lando pointed behind him. But that wasn't helpful, since there was the kitchen just behind them and then two doors. "Furthest one," he said and Y/N dragged her bags through the rest of the apartment, heading to the furthest away bedroom.

The bedroom was sizeable, with a double bed and wardrobe already inside. But, other than that, there wasn't a lot. Y/N unpacked nothing but bedding and clothes for the next day. There was no way she was staying here, not living with Lando Norris.

***

Carpooling made so much sense when going to the same place as somebody, unless you hated that person. Zac watched from his office as two cars pulled up outside of the McLaren Technology centre.

The drivers got out of the car almost in sync. They both wore sunglasses as they strode towards the doors, Y/N's glare not visible behind her sunglasses as she followed Lando inside.

Things were clearly tense between them as they walked through the office. The drivers said nothing to each other, but their expressions said enough.

Where Lando took an elevator up to Zac's office, Y/N took the stairs. She ran up them, the two of them arriving at the same time (one of them out of breath and the other smirking at her).

She took the lead as they strode into the office. "Zac," Y/N began, but the CEO held his hand.

He wasn't like other bosses, he was a cool boss. But he was still there boss and, when he held up his hand, the two knew to shut up. "Sit down," he said, leaning back in his own chair.

Y/N and Lando sat in the seats on the other side of the desk. Her leg bounced as she waited for Zac to speak and Lando had his hands shoved into his pockets. Neither of them could ever agree on anything, except the fact that they're not leaving the room until they're not living together.

Zac laced his hands together and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "You're both brilliant drivers," he began, "but you're both liabilities. You've both cost us millions because you keep trying to kill each other on the track. And your behaviour towards each other off track is bringing bad press to all of us at McLaren," he finished.

"We don't want to lose either of you as drivers, so we've come up with the brilliant plan to force you to get along."

Y/N's eyebrows were furrowed as she stared at her boss. "And if we refuse?" She asked him, placing one leg on top of the other.

"Then, we'll have to let one of both of you go. But the choice is yours."

But the choice wasn't really theirs. No matter what, they couldn't lose their seats, so they were just going to have to stick it out, suffer through it. Fuck.

The tension between the two wasn't just random. It had been brewing since their karting days. Even then they ran each other off the tracks and fought between races. Of course, back then it wasn't as big a deal.

There were way too many videos of when they were kids and they'd pushed each other off the track, gotten out of their karts and gotten into a physical fight. If they weren't so clearly talented, it would have affected their careers.

For the first few months of their Formula One careers in McLaren, the team thought they had made a mistake. If they weren't consistently in the points, Zac would have gotten rid of the both of them. But, truth be told, they were too good to let go.

So, he dangled this threat in front of them. Learn to get along or one of you is sacked. He'd thought about this hard, realised that this was the perfect threat. Y/N and Lando were so competitive that the thought of one of them losing their seat while the other thrived would have torn them apart.

"Fine," said Y/N. She stood up so quickly that the chair she was sat on, fell backwards. She quickly picked it up and rushed out of the office.

Lando said a goodbye to Zac and walked out of the office, rushing after her. He ran into the elevator just before the doors slid shut and stood beside her. They didn't look at each other, stared straight at the doors as the elevator took them down. "Sup, new roommate," he said with a smirk.

The elevator stopped moving and the doors slid open. "I hate you," Y/N said and walked out of the McLaren technology centre.

She drove her way back to the apartment in Woking in complete silence. Her grip on the steering wheel was so tight that it left imprints on her skin, on her palms and her finger tip.

How she didn't get pulled over for speeding, she'd never know. But the speed limit was the least of her concern as she made her way back to what was her new home.

But it would never be her home, not while Lando was living there.

***

Reluctantly, she unpacked her things. Hung her clothes up in her wardrobe and placed her underwear in the drawers. Y/N placed pictures of her family, pictures of her old F2 car, of her pets, of her car from the previous year up around her room. She pulled her lamp from her back and placed it on the bedside table, along with her phone, its charger, and her toiletries.

Lando had arrived home just minutes after her, but she'd already locked herself in her room. The only way they'd be able to get through this was by avoiding each other.

When her things were unpacked, Y/N sat on the bed and grabbed a book. A biography, all about the life of Enzo Ferrari. The one thing her room was missing was her sim racing rig, something her father was meant to bring up that day, but Y/N had told him to wait until she had somewhere new to live (which, we all know didn't happen. She was stuck in this apartment with Lando, whether she liked it or not).

Pressing her ear to the door, Y/N listened as Lando walked around. She waited until he walked past her room and into his own, shutting the door behind him. Only then did she walk out of her room to get herself something to eat and drink.

She could do this. All she had to do was avoid him.

Easy.

Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula one #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader

[scoops-stevie-archive]

Steve sits on his bed as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He just sent Eddie home with the promise he'll call after everything is calmed down.

If he doesn't get kicked out first.

Half an hour ago they were getting ready for bed and kissing each other goodnight when a surprised "oh!" from his doorway makes them jump apart, Steve's mother standing there wide-eyed and a hand covering her mouth.

Now Eddie's gone and Steve's left alone to listen to the muffled argument coming from downstairs.

"—another boy, Linda! If this gets out—"

"Give the boy some credit, John. He's smart. By the looks of it this wasn't just a one time fling." His mother pauses and then says something that has Steve straining his ears to try and hear over the blood rushing.

There's a knock on his door a moment later and Steve wants to cry. If only she'd done that earlier. She steps in and closes the door behind her. Gingerly sits beside him. He keeps his eyes locked on his hands in his lap.

"Steven."

Her voice is gentle but it still makes him flinch. She sighs.

"We're not mad, Steven."

Steve lifts his head. "What—"

"I won't say it's something we saw coming," she continued. "It's a shock to us both."

His eyes are wide, darting around her face. "But— I— What about dad?"

Linda looks almost thoughtful. "Your father... He'll come around, give him time." She puts a hand on his knee. It's a comforting weight and it grounds Steve a little. He leans into his mother's side a little.

She tuts at him, "Oh, Steven," and wraps her arms around him and he buries his face in her shoulder, taking deep, steadying breaths. They sit like that for a few moments before Linda pulls away. Both of their eyes are a little red rimmed.

"Your father does want to talk to you before bed, though."

.

He stands outside of his parents' bedroom and knocks, his hands shaking.

"Come in."

Steve opens the door. His father is unpacking his suitcase and putting clothes back on their hangers. Before he can even get a word out, his father speaks.

"Have you been seeing that boy long?"

Steve nods. "Yes, sir."

"How long?"

"Almost a year. About eight months."

John pauses, but continues to unpack. He doesn't speak any further but Steve knows its not the end of their conversation. He stands by the door and tries not to fidget, feeling much like the little boy who stood in the same exact spot as he was scolded for breaking an expensive vase on accident.

Then, his father asks a question that completely floors him.

"Do you love him?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"That boy," John clarifies, "do you love him?"

Steve’s answer is immediate: "So much it scares me sometimes."

The expression on his father's face is a complicated one. He sighs and moves to sit on the bed.

"What’s his name?" he asks, patting the spot beside him.

"Eddie," Steve answers, slowly moving forward to sit beside his father. "Eddie Munson."

"Munson," John says thoughtfully, trying to place the name.

"His uncle said he went to school with you and mom," Steve says helpfully. "Wayne Munson."

John hums, his brow furrowed. "Hm, I don't remember much of him, but I do remember his brother making quite a ruckus." He looks at Steve. "Does he treat you well?"

"Like I'm made of glass," Steve says quietly, cheeks flushing, phantom caresses of Eddie's fingers tickling across his skin.

John studies him for a moment before sighing. "I just want you to be happy, son," he says, surprising Steve. "And if this boy— Eddie— is the person that does that, then... That's good enough for me."

It takes a minute for Steve’s mind to catch up with his father's words. He gape, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, and John laughs and pats his knee before standing.

"Close your mouth and go call your boy, I'm sure he's pacing by the phone worried out of his mind. Invite him over for dinner tomorrow night so we can meet him officially."

Steve practically runs downstairs. His mother gives him a look as he quickly dials the number he knows by heart.

Eddie picks up on the second ring.

"Stevie?" He sounds frantic, just like his father suspected. "Are you okay? Do I need to come get you?"

Steve laughs, feeling lighter than he has in years. "I'm okay, you don't need to do that. Um..."

John comes into the kitchen and stands behind his mother, the two of them giving him encouraging smiles.

'Ask him,' his mother mouths. Steve flushes and turns slightly away from them to have some privacy. He has a feeling this will be happening a lot more in the near future.

"So, listen, um. Don't make any plans for tomorrow night..."

#steddie #cj writes #steddie ficlet #hopping on the 'steve's parents aren't perfect but they mean well' train #cj talks #steve harrington's parents

[the-offside-rule]

Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - Friends?

Requested: yes

Prompt: 18) "My mom thinks we're dating."

Warnings: not really? Just fluff tbh

Charles nervously led Y/n into his family's vacation home, where his parents and siblings eagerly awaited. "You stay here every year for the summer break and you never invited me?!" Y/n exclaimed, looking all around as Charles carried her suitcase in. "I thought you didn't like the whole glamour of Monaco." He teased. "That was before I saw your holiday home." She chuckled. Y/n couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and confusion, having been invited on this family vacation without much explanation. "We're all going to have dinner at around 8 so I will leave you to unpack. I have to go help my mum with the cooking."

"Can I come? I haven't seen your mum in ages!" Charles swallowed the lump in his throat, earning a concerned look from Y/n. "What did you do?" She interrogated. "What? Nothing! I've done nothing!" Charles replied in an attempt to defend himself. "So why are you suddenly being so....unlike yourself?" He shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe you've changed since she saw you last? I-"

"Y/n!" Charles stopped his talking as he heard his mother Pascale entering the room. Y/n's bright smile returned to her face as she spotted the wonderous woman walking towards her with open arms. "Oh, I've been waiting for Charles to bring you! I haven't seen you in a while!" She grinned, kissing Y/n's cheeks. "It's good to be here. I can't believe I haven't been invited sooner." Y/n and Pascale both looked over to Charles who stood by the suitcase. "Charles, it's wonderful that you brought Y/n along." She paused, looking to Charles and switching to French. "Est-ce qu'elle sait que je sais?" Charles shook his head. "Non, maman. Elle veut toujours que cela reste privé pour le moment."

"Eh bien, privé ne veut pas dire secret." Y/n looked between the pair, slightly confused as she didn't speak the language. "Mamon, s'il vous plaît-" He began, but Pscale began to walk away, waving her hands in the air. "Non, non, Charles. Je vais partir et aller cuisiner. Je m'occuperai de mes affaires et je te laisserai aider ta copine à s'installer." She turned back to Y/n. "Bisous!" She smiled, before closing the door. Charles let out a sigh of relief. "What was that about?" Y/n asked. "Just dinner. I will- Yes. I'll let you change for dinner and I'll see you at 8."

As the Leclerc family gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere was filled with warmth and laughter. Charles Leclerc sat beside his friend Y/n, stealing glances and sharing smiles throughout the meal. Pascale, Charles' mother, couldn't help but notice the chemistry between the two. During the delicious main course, Pascale set her fork down and looked at Y/n with a twinkle in her eye. "Y/n, dear, Charles will not stop talking about you." Charles sighs as Y/n grins, highly amused. "Oh really? Isn't he just so sweet?" She teased.

"And Charles, how long did you say you two have been together?" Pascale asked, her eyes twinkling again with curiosity. Y/n's gentle expression had turned into knotted brows, confusion clouding her mind. She stole a glance at Charles, who offered her a reassuring smile before answering. "Oh, we've been together for a while now." Charles replied smoothly, his tone tinged with amusement, before reaching for Y/n's hand beside him. Y/n's mind raced as she tried to make sense of Charles' response. She had never considered him anything more than a friend, and now she found herself unwittingly caught in a web of deception.

"So, Y/n, what made you and Charles decide to start dating all of a sudden?" Pascale inquired with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Y/n nearly choked on her wine, as Charles masked a laugh. "Oh, you know Pascale, sometimes these things just happen." Y/n replied, trying to play along. Pascale's eyes sparkled as she nodded knowingly. Charles nodde too, playing along with the story Y/n had come up with. "That's wonderful! I'm so happy to hear that. I am so happy none of the journalists have found out yet. You two must be discreet." Y/n chuckled nervously, "Yes, we like to keep things private. At one stage, we were so secretive, I didn't even know we were together." The family laughed along as Y/n kicked Charles under the table. A silent wince left his lips.

"Well, I think I should go and clean these dishes. How about-"

"Charles and I will do them, Pascale. Honest." Pascale smiled approvingly of Y/n. "If you insist." Y/n nodded, grabbing Charles quite firmly to make him follow her to the kitchen with various plates. Once the door had closed, Y/n turned to Charles, frustration evident in her eyes. "What on earth was that, Charles?" Charles placed the plates into the sink. "Oh by the way, Y/n. My mum thinks we are dating." His poor attempt of a joke didn't land too well, but the tea towel Y/n had thrown at him did. Charles sighed, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Look, I didn't know how to explain why you're suddenly here, so I may have mentioned we're together." He explained. "What the hell, Charles? You didn't tell me about this plan! I thought we were just friends!" Y/n whispered, trying not to let their ruse be overheard.

Charles had stopped thinking of the plates now and had instead turned his focus to trying to stop Y/n from telling Pascale the truth. "I know, I know. My mom can be relentless with her questions about my love life. I didn't want her prying too much, so I improvised. Sorry about that." Y/n sighed, holding the bridge of her nose. "Well, it's a bit late now. We need to figure this out before it gets more complicated."

Charles nodded, engulfing her in a hug and resting his chin on top of her head. "Agreed." They pondered for a moment, before Charles came up with a plan. "How about we make a deal?" Y/n looked up to him, almost as if to tell him to continue. "We'll keep up the charade for a while, and I promise to come clean with my mom when the time is right. In the meantime, we can use this to our advantage somehow." Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Alright, but you owe me big time for this. What's the plan?"

Charles smirked. "We can use this 'relationship' to our advantage. You get to spend the summer here, and it'll keep my mom off my back for a while. Deal?" Y/n sighed again, running her hands through her hair. "Fine, deal. But this better not turn into a soap opera. We're just friends, got it?" Charles chuckled, reaching his hand out and shaking hers. "Got it. Just friends."

#f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 oneshots #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x female oc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagime #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc boyfriend material #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Four

One | Two | Three

It has been a hot minute since I updated Good Vibrations hfjdksl thanks everyone for being patient with me, I just couldn't get this part written the way I wanted to for the loooongest time

There's a meme at the very end for anyone who sticks around!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

------

Of all the ways for Eddie's free period to go, getting cornered in the boy's bathroom by Robin Buckley was pretty damn low on the list. It's not even Robin's presence in the boy's bathroom that's throwing him off; it's the way her arms are crossed and she's glaring at Eddie like he's just bragged about kicking her puppy down the street.

Eddie pauses just inside the stall, holding the door open as the toilet struggles to flush behind him. A few seconds pass before Eddie forces himself to walk over to the sinks and wash his hands. "Buckley," he says, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We need to talk, Munson," Robin says, her eyes narrowing as Eddie shuts off the faucet, grabs a few paper towels, and dries his hands. "What's your game?"

"D&D, mostly," Eddie replies, dropping the paper towels in the trash and giving Robin his full attention. He notes, briefly, that she's locked the door to the bathroom, ensuring nobody is walking in on them.

"With Steve, asshole."

Oh.

Eddie pauses, shoves his hands into his pockets, and tilts his head at her. "Still not sure what you mean," he says. He's starting to get an inkling, though.

Robin frowns, seeming to argue with herself before shoving her hands into her hair to push it out of her face. She just leaves it even frizzier and messier as she takes a deep breath. "Do you think Steve is just, like, your entertainment of the week?" she asks, placing her hands on her hips as she levels that same glare from before at him.

"What? Shit, no, of course, not," Eddie says, sliding back a step at the implication. "What the fuck, Buckley?"

She grits her teeth, takes a deep breath, and marches up to Eddie. "Listen, Munson. I know you. I know all about your little Munson Doctrine. I agreed with it once. And because of that, I know you might be thinking of getting to know all about how former King Steve is a...a...a deaf idiot so you can tell the whole fucking world about it," she hisses. "And I'm here to cut that shit off before it even starts. So, if that's your angle, Munson, I suggest you waltz your flat ass out of Steve's life before I bury you in the football field."

There's a lot to unpack there, and Eddie is going to start opening suitcases soon, but first he can't help saying, "My ass isn't flat, Buckley." Robin raises an eyebrow at him and pointedly looks in the mirror. Eddie doesn't follow her gaze, deciding he'd like to spare himself that tragedy.

When she looks back, Eddie clears his throat. "Besides, that's not...that isn't what I'm doing."

"Then what are you doing?"

Eddie looks away, squirming slightly under her gaze. If this were anyone else, if this were someone who hadn't endured the most awkward seven minutes of his life with him, Eddie wouldn't admit a thing. But because it's Robin, because he knows she'll understand even if she doesn't agree, he finds himself blurting, "I think he's cute!"

"Oh? Oh! Oooohhhh."

He can see Robin going on a whole journey over the course of one word repeated three times, and Eddie almost immediately regrets admitting anything. "You can't tell him," Eddie says, moving forward without thinking and grabbing Robin's shoulders. "I'm serious, Buckley, you can't tell Steve."

She blinks, studying his expression for a moment before humming softly. "What do you want me to do? Lie? I tell Steve everything. He'll know if I'm not telling him something," she says.

"Just say it's not your secret to tell! Because it isn't! It very much is not your secret to be sharing around."

Robin huffs and shrugs Eddie's hands off her shoulders. She leans against the sink, head tilted. "So," she says, her tone implying they're changing the subject now, "when did this little crush of yours start?"

"What do you care?"

"If I'm going to help you, Munson, I need to know."

"You're gonna help me?"

Robin grins at him. "This is my entertainment of the week."

Eddie huffs and looks away, pacing a few times from one end of the bathroom to the other before finally stopping. "Okay," he says, more psyching himself up than anything else. "Steve has always been, you know, hot. It made me so fucking angry when I realized in sophomore year since he was a jock and all. But now...now he's...more. And I'm burning up, man, I've gotta know everything. What's his music collection look like? Do the kids know he's deaf? How does he interact with people when he can't hear them? Is he comfortable closing his eyes when he kisses? Does he feel everything more because he can't hear? Wou--"

"Okay, I'm stopping you there," Robin says, her face twisted in disgust as she levels a judgmental look at Eddie. "I don't want to hear your questions about Steve and kissing or whatever else your dirty little brain is thinking of."

"You asked."

"And now I'm telling you to stop," Robin replies. She runs her fingers through her hair again, frowning slightly. "Okay, I think the most important thing here is etiquette."

"Etiquette? What, am I too rough for Steve's delicate sensibilities?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you'd like to avoid offending him the way you did the last time you spoke."

Okay. Fair. Eddie grimaces at the reminder, the image of Steve's frown and the sound of his closed-off voice forcing themselves to the front of his mind. His shoulders slump and he nods. "Yeah, I would," he says.

Robin nods once, pushes herself off the sink, and places her hands on her hips. "Let's start with some basics," she says, taking a deep breath, and Eddie finds himself wondering if he's about to get overwhelmed by these basics. "Don't talk when Steve isn't looking at you. Don't have anything in or covering your mouth when you speak. Talk a little slower and make sure you enunciate, but if you talk slow like Steve is stupid, I will punch you. If Steve asks you to repeat something, repeat it word-for-word, no matter how many times he asks. If someone addresses Steve and he doesn't notice, give him a subtle nudge. Never sneak up on Steve when he's alone. Even if it means more walking or whatever, move to a spot where he'll notice you approaching. Be expressive when you speak. Steve can't hear things like tone, so he doesn't always know when something is a joke or sarcastic. And never, ever, call Steve or anything about him bullshit."

"That last one...," Eddie says, trailing off as he frowns slightly.

"Is the most important. I'm serious, Munson."

"Okay," Eddie says, nodding once and figuring he'll leave it at that.

"Oh, and ask Steve to teach you sign language. It'll give you an excuse to see each other more often."

-----

Robin has been acting weird since she started her shift, and Steve barely manages to wait until he's 95% sure the store is empty to turn around and ask, "What's wrong?"

Her hands falter, nearly dropping the tape she's busy rewinding. She catches herself, though, and looks at Steve. "What do you mean?"

"You're not telling me something. You tell me everything. What's wrong?"

She hesitates, looking away and biting her bottom lip before sighing and looking back. "I learned a secret today, so it's not mine to tell."

"Oh," Steve says, his shoulders relaxing some. "I thought you were hiding something actually important from me."

He doesn't hear her scoff, but he sees the way her head jerks and her eyes roll when she does. "Why would I bother hiding anything from you, dingus?"

Before Steve can answer, Robin stiffens slightly as she looks over Steve's shoulder. He braces himself for the customer interaction he's about to endure, slaps on a fake smile, and turns around. "Welcome to Family Video. How ca--Eddie?" His smile softens into something genuine at seeing Eddie on the other side of the counter. "Hey, man, what's up?"

Eddie flashes a smile in return, glancing at Robin over Steve's shoulder before focusing back on him. "Hey. Just, uh, kinda had a favor to ask you," he says.

Several possibilities run through Steve's mind, all of them related to the kids, since he can't think of any other reason for Eddie to need a favor from him. "Oh," Steve says, frowning slightly in confusion. "What's the favor."

Instead of answering right away, Eddie shifts awkwardly. He looks away, tugging on a few strands of his hair like he's nervous. He starts to use them to cover his mouth, making Steve dread his inevitable request for Eddie to repeat himself, when he stops. Eddie literally freezes, his fingers twitching before he drops the strands of hair and places his hands on the counter like he needs to keep them in sight.

He takes a deep breath, and Steve is starting to get really concerned now. "Hey, Eddie, whatever it is, just ask. I won't get, like, angry or anything," he says, hoping that makes things easier.

"No, I know you won't," Eddie says, huffing softly before nodding once, more to himself than anything else. "I was, uh, thinking. I read once that sign language is, like, a thing. So, if you teach me some sign language, I'll write you a song that's all noise and vibrations."

Steve doesn't get it all at first, concentrating on Eddie's mouth and getting distracted halfway through by the thought of dragging his thumb across Eddie's bottom lip. "Could you repeat that?" he asks, steeling himself to actually pay attention this time.

Eddie doesn't complain. He just nods and repeats himself. Steve got more of it, enough to know what Eddie is asking for, but he finds himself pausing when he meets Eddie's eyes again. There's no annoyance or frustration at being asked to repeat himself. All Steve can see is patience and nervousness. Without thinking, he asks again, "Sorry, one more time please?"

And Eddie says everything again. He repeats himself word-for-word, still lacking any negative reaction to saying the same thing three times. Steve feels something warm settle behind his ribs, and he nervously licks his lips, catching the way Eddie glances down to follow the motion. He shoves his hands into his pockets, balling them into fists so he doesn't do something stupid like grab Eddie's hand. "One more time," Steve says, the words feeling breathy and soft as they brush past his lips, and he hopes he wasn't too quiet.

Eddie blinks, tilting his head slightly and glancing over Steve's shoulder again. Steve hasn't forgotten about Robin being behind him, but he figures he can just play it off as fucking with Eddie at this point. Eddie doesn't complain or ask if Steve is serious, though. He just...repeats himself, and Steve suddenly knows that Eddie would keep repeating himself until Steve got tired of asking.

"Thanks," Steve says, deciding to spare them both from continuing the loop. "I got it that time. What do you want to learn sign for?"

"A D&D campaign. Thinking of using it in the plot."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I could teach you. Are you doing anything on Sunday?"

"Nope. Totally free. Nothing planned at all."

Steve can't help a slight grin, and he tells himself it's just because he's excited by the prospect of Eddie writing a whole song catered to how he experiences music. "Cool. Come by my place around noon."

Eddie nods once, exhaling like he's forgotten to breathe the entire time they were talking. His hands tap against the counter, drawing Steve's attention downward, and he suddenly wonders what Eddie's rings feel like. Steve forces himself to look back up before that thought can go too far.

"Will do," Eddie says once Steve is looking at him again. He flashes a smile and adds, "See you then, sweetheart."

With that, he turns on his heel and leaves, waving over his shoulder like Steve isn't trying to figure out if he read his words correctly. He watches Eddie leave, waiting for the door to close behind him before whirling around to find Robin still rewinding tapes like nothing happened. "Did he call me sweetheart?" Steve asks, needing to know if he's misunderstanding.

Robin looks up, eyebrows raised. "Don't know, dingus. I wasn't listening."

Steve barks out a laugh. "You're always listening," he points out.

She grins at him, her expression screaming trouble and that she knows something he doesn't. "Well, not that time," she replies, her grin widening as she adds, "But if I was, I'd say he did, yeah."

"He did," Steve murmurs, looking away from Robin and letting her confirmation sink in.

----------

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[gurugirl]

Homewrecker | bfd!harry

best friends dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship

Summary: The one where you and Harry finally come clean to everyone. Featuring an angry Fae, a spiteful soon-to-be ex wife, divorce terms, and lots of tears.

Word Count: 7360

Warning: 18+ only, mature content, age gap, talk of divorce, cheating, angst

Best Friend's Dad!harry Masterlist

You were tense.

And it wasn’t just that. It was that you could tell Harry was tense too. He was quiet. It made you nervous. Made you wonder if he was regretting his decision. He was loving when you’d first boarded the plane. But once it landed, he hardly looked at you. You were dropped off at your apartment by a taxi but were surprised when Harry asked the driver to wait. He helped you bring your suitcase up to your door and gave you a quick kiss before telling you he was going to have the taxi drop him off at his house so he could get his car. He told you he’d be back at your place in a couple of hours but he wouldn’t tell you where he was going. You weren’t sure he’d really come back.

You felt sick. You felt terrified you were losing him. But of course, you never deserved him in the first place. He was happily married with a great career and a beautiful daughter with a good head on her shoulders. Life was good for him. And would have been for years to come. If it hadn’t been for you. You were a homewrecker.

You didn’t have the energy to unpack your suitcase so you sat down and took a deep breath as you dared to look through all your messages and listen to the voicemails. You had envisioned checking your messages with Harry by your side, comforting you and you comforting him, but since he wasn’t there you did it alone.

The progression of anger from Fae was easy to see. She first left a voicemail and she sounded more concerned than angry at that point. She was calm.

Then it was a text. And another that could be read as mad. Then the one you read at the airport where you knew without a doubt that she was upset. And then to her last series of text messages sent Saturday morning.

Your silence is telling. So is his. I can’t believe either of you would do this. I hope I’m wrong. I’m hoping this is all a mistake and that it’s a coincidence that you and my dad have gone AWOL at the same time. But if this turns out to be real, Y/n? I don’t think I could ever speak to you or my dad again. I know you’d feel the same if I did this to you.

You sat your phone down and stared at your TV that you hadn’t turned on yet. It was impossible to process what you’d just read. It was shocking. You knew it was coming but to see it in a text was jarring.

It took you a few minutes to lift your phone up and listen to your mother’s voicemail.

Hey honey. I got a call from Fae and she’s really concerned about you and… her dad? She said she needs to get a hold of you. Will you call her when you get this? Or have Harry call her?

And, Y/n, I just want to say too, that no matter what, honey. I love you. You can always reach out to me if you need help or want to talk. Your father and I won’t judge you even if it’s true. I love you. Call me after you call Fae.

Closing your eyes you lay down on your side. Your mother even knew. Fae must have called her and told her everything. It hurt. But it was deserved. You deserved the hurt and shame. You’d done some very bad things. Your mother knowing was the least of your problems. Your biggest problem was that you were a homewrecker. You’d damaged a family because you were selfish.

You hit the call button and put your phone to your ear, keeping your eyes closed.

“Y/n. I was starting to get worried. Are you okay?” Your mother’s words were rushed.

“I’m fine, Mom. I’m so sorry about this. I would have called you sooner but I was trying to avoid my phone for a couple of days.”

“What are you avoiding, Y/n? Is it true? You and Fae’s dad?”

You swallowed thickly, “Yeah. It’s true.”

The line was silent for a moment. You waited to let your mom respond when she was ready. It was a lot to hear. You understood her silence.

“Okay. Well… you know I love you, honey. I hope you know what you’re doing. You’re an adult so you get to make these decisions and I trust that you never meant to hurt anyone.”

“Of course not. I never thought,” you felt a tear slip down your cheek, “… that this would happen. It was never meant to get this far. But,” you pushed yourself up to sit, “I fell in love. And now it’s too late. And we have to face the music. And,” you sniffled as you pulled your phone out to look at the time and then put it back to your ear, “I don’t even know where Harry is right now so it all feels like it’s about to just explode on us–“

“Y/n, do you want me to come over?”

You shook your head, “No. No, that’s okay. I’m sorry. This is just so hard.”

At that moment your front door opened and you stood up to see Harry walking in.

“Mom, I’ll call you back, okay? I love you,” you hung up after your mom told you she loved you too.

You tossed your phone on the couch and stepped toward Harry quietly, unsure of how he was feeling. Unsure of how to approach.

Harry took one long stride toward you and wrapped his arms around you, crushing you into his chest. You draped your arms around his middle and just let him squeeze. You were glad he’d come back so soon. You thought he was going to be gone for at least another hour. You also thought it was possible he wouldn’t return.

He loosened his embrace and kissed the top of your head, “I didn’t like how it felt to be away from you. I just needed to go and drive. I don’t really know why. I started to panic,” he spoke quietly as you listened, “When I was dropped off at the house I got into my car and the further away I drove the further away from you I felt and I didn’t like that. I had to turn around and drive back to you.”

You tilted your head back to look up at him, “Are you having second thoughts? Do you regret this?”

Harry brought his hands up to your face and looked down at you intently, “God, baby, no. When I got into that taxi I wasn’t even really thinking. I don’t know why I did it that way, leaving like that. I just… I didn’t mean for it to seem like I needed to be away from you. I don’t want that at all.”

You nodded and it felt like relief to hear him say that. “I was worried. Thought you’d suddenly realized this was a big mistake and you couldn’t go through with it anymore.”

He rocked you softly, stepping from foot to foot to sway, “Absolutely not. It’s me and you, baby.”

“We should text them back. Let them know something. Maybe we can go to them? Tell them everything? I just want to get this over with now, Harry.” You couldn’t handle being secretive with Fae or anyone anymore. You knew this was going to happen one way or another and if you could just finally say it then maybe the worst would be over.

He sighed and let go of you, keeping your hands in his, “Okay. We’ll let them decide when it happens. But I’ll text Fae and her mother.”

You both sat in silence on your couch as you individually texted Fae. Harry texted his wife first.

You didn’t know how to word the text. But you settled on something simple.

I’m so sorry. I feel awful. I want to talk to you, though, whenever you’re ready.

Harry’s phone rang after he sent his first text and he looked at you with worry before holding the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

You watched him stand up and pace in silence as he listened to his wife. He ran a hand through his hair and then suddenly stopped and looked down as he closed his eyes.

“Yes. I understand.”

He looked at you and gave you a weak smile. A sad smile and you returned the expression.

“No. Look… don’t say that. She’s not. I think if we can just talk in person this will be better.”

He shook his head and scowled as he began to pace again, “I said don’t say that about her,” his voice was more urgent. Almost angry.

Your phone dinged. Fae had responded.

I’m coming over.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up at Harry. Your natural inclination was to tell him to leave because that had been the routine since the beginning. Hiding that he’d been with you. But now that everything was out in the open…

“Fine. We’ll talk tomorrow then... Yes. I know. I am sorry,” he looked at his screen and realized she’d hung up. “Fuck.” He spoke under his breath.

You stood up and cleared your throat, “Fae is coming over.”

Harry looked weary. He nodded and went into your kitchen and pulled down two glasses, “Water?” He asked without turning to look at you.

“Yes, please.”

You watched him fill the glasses with your water pitcher and then handed you a glass as he gulped down half of his in one go.

“We should think about how to tell her. She’ll be here soon.” You reiterated, keeping your distance. Everything felt so foreign. So strange.

Harry placed his glass down and looked at you for a moment before responding, “We’ll just tell her, Y/n. It’s not going to be good but we’ll be honest and tell her what we’ve done. It’s all we can do,” he pushed his hip from the counter and took your free hand, bringing it up to his chest, “I love you. Okay?”

You nodded, “I love you too, Harry.”

When you sat your glass down Harry bent at his knees and lifted you up to the counter and then fit himself in between your legs, putting his palms over your thighs, “I just need you with me, Y/n. Okay?”

You nodded and put your hands on Harry’s shoulders and pulled them around his neck to bring him in for a soft little kiss.

You two stayed like that until there was a knock at your door and Harry helped you down from your spot. He followed behind you as you pulled your door open to see Fae standing there. She looked behind you to her dad and then back at you. Her expression was unreadable.

“Come in.” You gestured to her and moved out of the doorway. She walked past you and her father and into your living room.

“So, it’s true. What the fuck?” She shook her head and looked between you and Harry.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” Harry spoke first. You could hear the small waver in his voice as if he were about to cry, which made you tear up instantly as you watched Fae’s face.

She sat down on the small bench near your records and looked directly at you, “I can’t believe you did this. To me and my mom? To him? Why?”

Oh shit. Here it was. You were being blamed for it all. As you should. You knew what you’d done was disgusting.

You moved to sit down on your couch, pulling your hand out of Harry’s. You needed to sit.

“I can’t believe I did it either. I don’t know why. I’m sorry!” You hiccupped as your tears fell. A pathetic girl. Harry sat next to you and you felt his warm hand on your back as you repeated that you were sorry.

“Mom didn’t deserve this,” Fae looked at her dad, “She’s been so good to us and to you. She was really blindsided by this you know? You hurt her. You cheated on her. I never would have taken you for a cheater.”

Your sniffles and harsh breaths were obnoxious. You didn’t deserve to be feeling sad for yourself. After all, you’d done all the hurting and now people were suffering because of you.

“I know, Fae. Your mother has been wonderful to us. I made a mistake and…” his hand moved up and down your back as he spoke, “I’m sorry this happened. I didn’t expect any of it. It just…” he took a breath, “It just happened and now I’m in love. We’re in love.”

Fae laughed sardonically and you looked at her. She hadn’t shed a single tear.

“Yeah right. Do you know how ridiculous you sound, Dad? In love? With her? She’s my age? What could you possibly have in common with Y/n? Do you two bond over talking about me? Because that’s your only link. Like… I don’t get it at all.”

“We just get along, Fae. Somethings can’t really be explained–“

“Oh, the fuck they can’t. You two had sex and now you think you’re in love. You’re both pathetic. Especially you, Y/n. You broke up a happy marriage because you were selfish and you outright lied to me–“

“Hey, this is my fault, Fae. I’m the one who–“

You put your hand on his knee, “No. Fae’s right. I’m pathetic. I’m a homewrecker. I deserve all of the blame.”

Fae stood up, “Oh the martyr. I see… Yes… Will it make you feel better to know how much I really hate you? Is that what you want? Well,” she laughed, “I’m not giving you that satisfaction. Oh no…” she paced in front of your coffee table as she looked from her father to you, “The part that hurts so much, and the part that I hope you take with you and that eats at you and keeps you up at night is that hating you hurts me. You were my best friend. You and I have done everything together. I trusted you and loved you like you were my sister. When my mom told me what she found out I told her it couldn’t be true. That you would never. I gave you a chance to come clean to me but you lied to my face. I won’t ever forgive you but that doesn’t mean that feels good. It hurts to hate you. You betrayed me.”

You sat in silence. In shame.

Fae pointed at Harry, “And you. You let this happen. Mom is broken. She’s absolutely torn up over this. You blindsided us both and you’re no longer my father.”

“Please, don’t say that Fae, I love you,” Harry stood up.

“Don’t come near me. I don’t want your apologies or your tears. I’m not giving you the chance to make amends or say your peace. I don’t want it,” she scoffed and looked up toward the ceiling to pull her tears back into her eyes. “Mom said this didn’t mean you were abandoning me. That you still love me,” she looked at him and stopped pacing, “I don’t care if you choose her or whatever,” she gestured toward you, “I don’t even want you as my father anymore. You make me sick. What you did is unforgivable. Even if you did leave her and beg me for another chance to be in my life I don’t want it. My life is better without you now that I know who you are.”

Harry sat down and put his head in his hands and began to cry. You could see his shoulders shaking as he let out a strangled sob.

She looked away from Harry and took a breath. You could see she was acting tough. You knew her well. You imagined that the moment she walked out of your apartment she’d finally allow herself to cry.

“You both deserve each other. I hope you have a miserable life together. Actually…” she looked at you, “I take that back. I hope he cheats on you and breaks your heart the way you broke mine. I hope that all this was a waste for both of you. That you don’t even wind up together in the end. Because that’s what you’re hoping for, isn’t it?”

Her glower was intense. Scary.

You opened your mouth, “Fae, I’m–“

“I don’t fucking want to hear it, Y/n. I just wanted to come over here so I could tell you in person how I feel about you,” she laughed and looked at Harry who was still trying to reign in his tears, “I actually didn’t think you’d be here. But I guess this makes it easier. So I only have to do this once.”

She picked up her purse and carried herself quickly to your door but you ran after her just as she stepped outside, “Fae, please! I never wanted to hurt anyone!”

She turned to look at you, tears glazing her eyes, “I know you didn’t. But you did anyway, and it was selfish. Just wait for your turn. He’ll find someone younger in a few years and you’ll be all alone.”

When she walked away you felt Harry’s hand on your shoulder and then his chest pressed to your back as he pulled you into him. You both watched until Fae was out of sight and wondered if that would be it. Wondered if she’d ever come around or if maybe she was right.

He was warm against you. Comforting. “Baby you know she’s just speaking out of anger because she’s hurt. I’m not leaving you. That’s never gonna happen.”

You swallowed and nodded as he spoke quietly into your ear. Surely she was speaking out of anger to hurt you because she was hurt. You could see that. And that was deserved. You should hurt. But part of what she said did strike something in you. Because he’d left his own wife for you. For someone younger. And he probably never imagined he’d cheat on his wife just like at that moment you figured he never imagined he’d leave you either.

“You believe me, right, Y/n?”

You nodded shallowly.

Harry let out a deep breath as he pulled you gently back inside your apartment and turned you to face himself. His eyes were red and his face was splotchy from crying, “Look at me,” he cupped your face softly, “I’m mad for you. I swear on everything,” he ran his thumb under your right eye where a new tear fell, “I’ll never leave you. I love you. This is different, Y/n. God, I never want you to feel that way.”

It wasn’t like you wanted to leave him so you wouldn’t and if he broke your heart eventually, well you also deserved that. Especially after everything you’d done to Fae and her mother…

Harry’s nose touched yours, “Please, Y/n. I can tell you’re upset about what she said. I need to know you trust me and that we’re okay.”

You lifted your arms to wrap around his middle and looked at him, “Whatever happens I’m not going anywhere. I just…” you blinked and grasped the material of his shirt tight, “I fucked up big time. We did. I wasn’t prepared to hear her say any of that. I knew she’d be upset. I feel like this is what I deserve. None of this is okay.”

Harry cradled the back of your head and pressed his forehead into yours gently, “I fucked up, Y/n. I did that. I know what’s been done isn’t good… but you and I can be okay. Being with you is like nothing I’ve ever had. I’ll do everything I can to prove to you how much I love you and how much I want you every day if you need it.”

You tilted your head back and moved to kiss him, pushing your lips against his. You didn’t want him feeling like he’d lost you too. You just needed to sort out your thoughts and it was hard to verbalize everything in that moment.

Harry and Fae’s mother had planned to meet at their house in the morning. He was already making a list of things he’d be packing and bringing to your apartment, knowing she’d be taking the house, “Are you sure it’s okay if I bring all this? I can get a storage unit or something.”

You stood behind him and looked down at his laptop screen. He was sitting at your small kitchen table as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “It’s fine, Harry. We’ll figure out everything later. We should get some sleep. It’ll be an early morning and we want to go in with clear minds.” Harry turned to look at you as he placed a hand over your forearm, “Baby, I really think it should just be me there. I don’t want you to have to go through that again.”

You moved and pulled a chair up next to him so you could look at him directly, “I really think I should be there with you. At least for support, Harry. I’m an adult. I can handle it. I don’t want you having to do it alone.”

He shook his head and took your hands in his, “Y/n, it’s going to go a whole lot better if you’re not there. She’s not going to want to see you. That’ll just make her angrier. I’m asking you to please stay here while I sort out everything with her.”

Harry had told you right at the beginning that he was going but you insisted you wanted to be there too. To face his wife and be his support.

“Harry…” you said his name in a plea.

He dipped in and kissed you, “I love you so much. But I need to do this part by myself. Okay? I love that you want to help and be there with me and you don’t know how much that means to me. But this is different. I can’t bring you with me for this. You can be my comfort and support when I get back afterward.”

You figured you didn’t have much of a choice. But you hated to have Harry go it alone. If you thought dealing with Fae was devastating, you couldn’t imagine the scene with her mother. The woman whose heart he broke. Who he cheated on.

Harry held you close that night as you softly caressed his chest and kissed his shoulders and pecs. Sleep didn’t really find either of you for long enough to feel like you’d rested. You had bursts of shut-eye but then were woken up with a panicky feeling. And it was the same for Harry. But being together and feeling the warmth of one another felt a lot better than waking up alone.

And you both were wide awake at 5 am, cuddled together under your blankets, limbs tangled.

“Are you awake?” You whispered as softly as possible. You assumed he was because of his breathing pattern and the way he shifted every now and then.

“I am. Are you okay, baby?” He scooted in closer and pulled you into his chest so you were practically laying on him.

You couldn’t see his face in the dark but you smiled at how he always seemed to need you close.

“I’m okay. I’m here with you so I’m okay.” You laid your head against his chest and he cradled the back of your head. You could feel the slow rhythm of his heart.

“Want some coffee? Thinking of getting up to make some. Not sure I can sleep. Have to be up in an hour anyway.”

Coffee at 5:15 am was not your thing but for Harry, you’d do it. And it was also going to be impossible for you to sleep as well. You were full of nerves and wondering what was next.

You had to work that afternoon, unfortunately. You wanted to call off but you were worried about losing your job. You took Saturday off when you were scheduled to work and doing it again on Monday would be risking too much.

“So what? If you lose your job you can look for something else. Maybe there’s a good job in advertising or marketing or something. Use your degree, Y/n. I can take care of you until you find something.”

You shook your head, “You don’t think I’ve been looking? For a year I’ve been putting in resumes and the only few spots that would even consider me without any experience wouldn’t pay as well as the tips I make at the restaurant. It’s hard to transition from making really good tips to a salaried job that pays less where I might work more hours.”

“I know you’ve been looking, baby. I’m not saying you haven’t. I’m just saying I’ll take care of you until you find something perfect.”

“I don’t want to have you taking care of me, though. That’s not fair. We’ve already been through a lot. And just imagine what everyone would think… If I quit my job after everyone finds out we’ve been having an affair and you pay all my bills... I’ll not only be a homewrecker I’ll be a gold digger or something. One awful scorn on me is quite enough,” you chuckled. But it wasn’t actually funny. You tried to find humor in the situation but the reality of it was awful.

“We can’t help what people will think of us but we’ll talk about all this later. I don’t want you to worry. Okay?”

“You think you’ll be back before I need to leave for work?” You ran your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. It was getting long and his curls were just begging to be touched.

Harry nodded, “I think so. I hope so. If not, I’ll be here waiting for you when you get off. I’ve got some stuff to do at the office today as well but shouldn’t take long. And I’ve got your key,” he grinned at you.

Harry left after giving you a smoldering kiss. You two hadn’t been intimate since the morning before when you left Quebec and when he grabbed you and spun you around to kiss you goodbye you pulled him in by his collar to keep his mouth against yours, then he had his arms around your back and you both had to force yourselves apart so he could go.

And on any normal day, you’d climb back into bed to sleep for a few more hours. But you knew you couldn’t sleep. So, you had to find something to keep you occupied while Harry told his wife everything.

.           .           .

When Harry pulled into the driveway his wife’s car was there already. He took a few deep breaths. He knew it was not going to be pretty.

The house smelled of coffee when he opened the door. It almost felt comforting. Familiar. Except that the circumstances were anything but.

He called to his wife as he sat his briefcase down on the couch and moved into the kitchen where he found her on her cell phone speaking to someone. She glanced at him and turned her back.

Harry noticed right away that she looked sad. Her face was puffy and her skin looked sallow.

The pot of coffee was full but he couldn’t even think of putting anything else into his stomach at that moment. The acid in the coffee was already making him feel a bit unwell. Not just the acid. But he felt unwell for what was about to come.

He sat at the kitchen table and silently inhaled again.

“Well, he’s here now, so I’ll let you go. I’ll call you later, okay?” He heard only the last part of her conversation as she hung up and kept her back to him. He watched her look out the window over the sink into their backyard in silence.

“I think you should start, Harry. Start with how long you’ve been seeing her. How it happened,” she turned to look at him but stayed near the counter.

He nodded and looked down at his hands, “6 months, give or take.” He looked up at her and her fierce gaze could have sliced him in half.

She waved her hand, “Go on. Let’s get it out.”

He swallowed, “I don’t know why I did it. I was happy. Really, I was. I… she and I got close and then I went to her place and that’s how it started.”

“So you instigated?”

Nodding his head he looked at his wife, “I did. I knew she had a crush on me and I fed into it.”

She nodded and walked toward him to sit at the table across from him.

“And it wasn’t supposed to go that far. But I’ve found myself falling for her.”

The laugh from his wife was unexpected. Harry watched as she shook her head in disbelief, “You’ve fallen for her? Y/n? Who is the same age as your daughter? Oh, I bet that’s an interesting dynamic. Does she know you fucked me while you were fucking her?”

He clenched his jaw and felt like he’d throw up, “We didn’t really talk about that much at the beginning. I’m sure she knows.”

“Caressa told me she saw you drop her off. Y/n, the stupid thing, told her you were her boyfriend.”

“Hey. Stop. Don’t do that. Don’t call her stupid. She’s no–“

“What? You don’t like it when women are being a little immature? You are dating a woman half your age for Christ’s sake. Seems like something you’d be into.”

Harry folded his lips into his mouth to keep himself quiet. He’d have to deal with her being a little petty. She had every right to lash out.

“Anyway, I was quite shocked to learn of it. And at first, we thought there was no way. Caressa might have seen someone else that looked like you with a car like yours. But then… too many coincidences, you know? Plus I’d already suspected you were cheating.”

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Why? Why would you do this to us? Was it that bad?”

Harry shook his head and reached for his wife’s hand but she pulled away before he could touch her, “No. Of course not. You’ve been incredible. I got selfish and fucked up. And then I got in too deep.” He moved his hand back into his lap.

She nodded, “You did fuck up. That’s true. How many other women have you cheated on me with?”

Harry was taken aback, “None! Oh my god, no. I never… this is the only time.”

“I see. And of all people, it had to be her? Fae’s best friend, Harry?”

“I know. It’s so messy.”

“Have you had a thing for her since she was a teenager?”

He shook his head, “No. Fae’s 22nd birthday was the first time I really found her attractive.”

She looked to the corner of the room as she sipped her coffee and then pinned her eyes back on Harry, “So for 2 1/2, nearly 3 years you’ve been lusting after Fae’s best friend?”

“No. I found her attractive… but never…” he took a breath, “No it was only recent.”

That was a lie. He had actually been lusting after you for that length of time. Of course, the feelings grew as you got closer and spent time together alone. When you would visit him and you’d chat and have lengthy hugs in private… even though the actual affair had only been for 6 months, you both had been dancing around your feelings for much longer. But he didn’t want his wife to know that. Didn’t feel that was necessary information.

“My terms for the divorce are simple. I’ll keep the house but you’ll pay the mortgage and insurance, and repairs that might come up. Once the house is paid off it’ll be in my name and I’ll be able to sell it or keep it, my choice. I’ll keep my car, which you’ll also pay the insurance for, and I’ll be asking for 50% of your salary as alimony. I also expect 50% of any of your bonuses. You’ll pay for my health insurance and cover anything I need above the copay. Dental too,” she took another sip of her coffee as she kept her eyes on Harry, “You’ll cover my cellphone, internet… basically all of my bills like you do currently. I am not going to suffer and live a more difficult lifestyle because you and Y/n want to fuck around and play pretend. Understood?”

Harry nodded. He knew he’d be giving a lot to his wife.

“Our shared brokerage, savings, and retirement will be 100% mine–“

Harry put his hand up, “Now, wait. Hold on. I can give you most of it but not all. Come on. Be reasonable.”

She shook her head, “The moment you stuck your prick in someone else was the moment I lost my ability to be reasonable with you. It’s mine. And I guarantee that the judge will agree once we get to the nitty-gritty. I’ve looked into it. You’ve cheated on me and I’ve been a supportive wife who also contributed to our savings and retirement during all the years I worked.”

His brokerage account was worth millions. And while his wife had contributed to savings and retirement years ago when she was still working, all the money and earnings from the brokerage were his own. He put that money there, not her.

“I don’t think that’s fair. You didn’t put a dime into the brokerage account. I’ll give you all of our savings, half the retirement, and half of the brokerage. That’s more than enough for you for the rest of your life. Not to mention half my salary and bonuses, the house…”

“I don’t care what’s fair. And yeah, I could live a very comfortable life on half the brokerage and retirement alone but I don’t want you to live a comfortable life, see? I’m not here to make things comfortable for anyone but me and my daughter. You and Y/n can go to hell.”

Harry bit his tongue and looked down at the table. He would need to get a lawyer. 50% of everything plus extras was fine. But all of the brokerage and retirement?

“Well, we’ll figure out terms with lawyers present,” he looked at her as he spoke. It was the first time he’d felt so angry with her ever. And even if she was justified, it still felt unfair.

She laughed, “Yes, we will. In fact, I’m meeting with mine this afternoon to get all the paperwork ready for you to sign. Divorce papers are in the works. And since I’m the one filing first I get dibs. You’ll see.”

Harry stood up from the table and paced the kitchen slowly. He knew this would kill him financially but he somehow just didn’t expect she’d want all of his brokerage. That was his nest egg he’d been adding to since before he ever met his wife. It was his. He’d fight for that one.

“What time this afternoon?” He looked at her.

“2 pm. You aren’t invited. You’ll be all caught up with everything once we get the paperwork drafted. My lawyer will send everything to yours. Oh, which, by the way, you should send me your lawyer’s contact info.”

He didn’t have a lawyer at that moment, which in hindsight was dumb of him. He should have been more prepared for all of this. A lawyer was just more money down the drain. He’d be paying his own plus hers, he was sure of it.

“Fuck,” he spoke under his breath and ran his hands over his face.

Harry packed his things into his car and gathered items he planned to take with him. Of course, his wife watched everything he took and told him what he could and couldn’t take.

“But this was a gift from Fae. Let me at least have this,” he pleaded. It was a framed photo of Fae and Harry. The frame was homemade from Fae for Father’s Day when she was 11. He kept it in his office for all the years he had it.

“Fae doesn’t want you to have that. Leave it here.”

“You didn’t even know it was there. You probably forgot that it even existed. Come on, don’t do this.”

She didn’t budge.

Harry had expected the conversation with his wife to be much different. He thought there would be a lot of tears and apologies and that she would scream at him and throw a fit but she was calm and prepared. She was cold and uncaring, though she did throw an insult or two. He could tell she was upset and that she had been crying before he arrived but she did not act the way he thought she would.

It all took much longer than he hoped. You had already been at work by the time he dropped his things off at your apartment. His apartment now too. He told you he’d be paying his part and wanted to get on the lease. But he planned on paying the rent in full. He didn’t want to be a burden to you.

And before he went by his office at work he stopped at the restaurant to see you. He knew it might be a bad idea but he needed to see you. Just to look at you and tell you he loved you and make sure you were okay. He felt bad that he hadn’t come back before you’d left.

Caressa saw him first as he walked in and the hostess greeted him.

“Oh, Harry. How nice to see you,” she crossed her arms as she walked up to him, “I’m guessing you’re here to see your girlfriend?”

“Hi, Caressa. Uh, just here to see Y/n. I wanted to tell her something really quick. I won’t keep her long.” He felt himself flush in embarrassment. He wasn’t particularly close to Caressa but he’d known her for years. She and her husband were part of his friend group. Were. He was certain they wouldn’t be interested in hanging out with him again.

“Sure. She’s busy right now but have a seat. I’ll let her know you’re here.”

He waited for fifteen minutes before getting up and peeking into the dining room. He half doubted that Caressa told you he was there. She probably wanted to make a point or something.

When he spotted you walking away from a table he stepped in and called your name quietly.

You turned and your eyes widened in surprise but you smiled and mouthed “I’ll be right back.”

You hadn’t expected to see him show up at your work but the relief that washed over you was immense. You were so worried about Harry and wondered how the talk had gone with Fae’s mother. Hoped nothing had changed between you and him.

You quickly made your way to the front where Harry was and grabbed his hand into yours, “How did it go?”

He sighed and you could see it hadn’t been a good conversation just by his expression, “I’ll tell you later. But, she knows. Everyone knows now. She’s getting divorce paperwork ready,” he squeezed your hand, “I just wanted to see your face. Needed to see you.”

You smiled and quickly kissed his lips, “I’m glad you came in. I was really worried.”

“You don’t need to worry, baby. Ever. Okay? I love you. I just… couldn’t breathe until I saw you.”

That was all you needed. His reassurance. The rest of your shift felt lighter. You were still burdened by the reality and the heaviness of everything but at least he came to see you. At least he needed it as much as you did.

When you got home later Harry was there. He was only wearing his grey sweatpants and he was in the kitchen cooking something.

You placed your purse on the kitchen table and he turned around and sat the wooden spoon on the counter before he met you in the middle of the kitchen to bring you in for a hug.

He said nothing. He just held you for a moment and it felt regenerative to be in his arms. You melted a tiny bit into him and suddenly, without even meaning for it to happen you began to cry.

“Oh, honey…” he whispered as he pulled you into your living room to your couch. You sat down with him and he kept his arms around you.

You couldn’t stop the tears. You couldn’t really think much about your situation while you were at work or you’d have cried in front of your customers. And you definitely didn’t want Caressa to see you in tears. She knew too much already.

“Sorry,” you squeaked out your words against Harry’s chest. You loved that he wasn’t wearing a shirt and that your cheek was smushed into his skin.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay to cry. I’m here.”

Harry kissed the top of your head and spoke quietly, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

When you’d finally caught your breath and looked up at him, he smiled softly at your face with tear-stained cheeks, “Thank you for stopping in at work today. That made everything feel so much better.”

Harry took in your red puffy eyes and the way your lip quivered the slightest and sighed as he wiped your tears, “I needed to see you. I’m glad it made you feel better. How was your shift?”

You told him about work and how Caressa hardly spoke to you. Then you discovered that when Harry arrived she hadn’t told you that he was there when he asked her to, “Guess I’m not surprised. She probably hates us both. And what are you making? Smells really good.”

“Just veggie soup and I’ve got some biscuits cooling. Stove’s off so it can sit a bit. It’ll be fine.”

You looked around your living room and it was the first time you noticed the new big-screen TV that had replaced yours, as well as a plant in the corner that hadn’t been there, “So now we live together, huh?” You smiled finally, to Harry’s relief.

“If you still want me here then yes.”

You laughed and leaned back into him, hugging his middle, “Of course I want you here. Need you here.”

Harry put his arms around you, “S’what I wanted to hear. Need to be with you. No matter what that looks like.”

You looked up at him and his curls that were starting to get long and the bit of scruff on his face with his bright eyes and pink lips and you felt like you were lucky to have him. It wasn’t going to be easy to not have Fae in your life. And you would have to deal with the judgment that was to come, but at least you had him. At least you had each other.

“What?” Harry asked as your eyes wandered over his features.

“I just feel grateful that you’re here with me.”

Harry tilted his head to the side as he rubbed your arms up and down, his eyes on yours, “I’m grateful you want me here, Y/n.”

As shitty as everything was and the awful reality that was caging you in and carving the words homewrecker onto your forehead, you felt it in your heart that he was the love of your life. No one else could ever understand it. But Harry did. And you did. And that was all that mattered in that moment.

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