#(first and second date took place the same day mere hours apart)

[seventeenpins]

one day you’re still crying over your ex, the next day you’re asking if you should bring your dick to a third date

[jackhues]

(mockingbird au!) better things - platonic!hughes

request: quinn's gf treating the reader shitty

requested by: anon : )

notes: hehe, this took very long bcz i've had writers block for so long, but i hope you enjoy! continue sending in requests for the au! check out the request rules below! thanks for requesting <3

likes are good, reblogs are better <3

mockingbird! au request rules!

tags: @woodruff-edwards , @austinbutlerscaresme , @zegras2crosby , @hockeyboysarehot , @emptyflowerpots , @mysticaldonkey , @lam-ila , @babydollmarauders , @starjoyyy , @kjohnson-91 , @gavinbrindley @huggyhugh , @jackhughesily , @panarin10 , @equallyshaw , @power2myheart , @lynnismypseudonym , @beccaiscold , @akengii , @nowandkei , @cinnamonpancakes , @mitchymainer , @lifeofpriya , @marshmallow-babe, @hughesx3 , @emsully2002 , @starsandhughes , @huggy-hischier73, @doglady5678 , @thatoneblog , @exonct07 &lt;3

join my taglist!

gif not mine!

the first time you met marianne, you tried to tell yourself she had a bad day. 

after all, it happens to everyone. you’ve had many yourself. days when you don’t want to talk to anyone, where you especially don’t have the energy to talk to someone new.

it was a universal experience.

there’d been a knock on your door that afternoon, followed by jack yelling, “i’ll get it!” you were washing the dishes, so it wasn’t like you were going to go get it anyways.

once you put the dishes away and dried your hands, you made your way to the door, trying to figure out what was taking jack so long. he was a bit of a chatterbox, and on more than one occasion, you had to pull him away from a scared looking deliveryman.

“jack, who’s here?” you asked.

“damn, y/n,” quinn clicked his teeth as he shook his head to himself. “and here i thought you’d recognize me before my own brother would.”

“quinn!” you laughed a little, hugging him. “oh my god, i completely forgot you’re in town! the game’s tomorrow, right?”

“yup,” he agreed.

“great, remind me to prepare myself for hearing ‘jack hughes’ brother’ on the broadcast all night,” you muttered to yourself.

jack laughed, while quinn merely rolled his eyes. 

“this is why you should watch the vancouver broadcasts,” he rapped his knuckles against your head.

you swatted his hand away as someone cleared their throat.

it was only then you noticed a pretty redhead standing behind quinn and looking a little… bored? it was hard to tell, she didn’t look very expressive.

“y/n, meet marianne!” quinn said, putting an arm around the girl. “anne, this is jack’s girlfriend, y/n.”

“hi, it’s nice to meet you!” you grinned, unsure if you should step up for a hug or handshake.

anne nodded in your direction, still looking vaguely bored by everything around her. you decided on neither form of greeting.

jack and quinn were deep in conversation, sending luke snaps and telling him to hurry and make his way over to your’s and jack’s apartment. the three boys would be staying at your place over the weekend.

the rest of the quinn and anne’s visit went by alright, as long as you didn’t count the fact that you and anne never spoke to each other, despite living in the same house for two days.

you stayed at home to watch the devils and canucks play each other, even inviting anne as a gesture of goodwill.

“um, no thanks,” was her simple response. “i’m meeting up with a few of my friends to go clubbing.”

you merely nodded to yourself, doing your absolute best to try and pretend her tone wasn’t rude, and that she was just tired.

a bad day can be a bad few days, right?

-

the second time you met her, things hadn’t gone any smoother.

this time, you and jack were visiting quinn in vancouver, staying over at his house for the visit. you weren’t even supposed to be there, but jack had convinced you to go along and surprise quinn.

luke had arrived at quinn’s apartment a few hours prior, leaving you and jack to go on an impromptu date around the city. 

you knocked on the door, stepping back and squeezing jack’s hand. you couldn’t wait to see the shocked expression on quinn’s face when he saw you guys together.

except, he didn’t open the door.

anne stood inside quinn’s apartment, narrowing her eyes at the sight of you. her gaze travelled towards jack, who she recognized immediately. 

“hey, jack, right?” she asked.

jack smiled, “the one and only. is my brother here?”

she nodded, giving you a onceover, before stepping back and allowing you guys inside the apartment.

“quinn! your other brother’s here!” she called, before heading towards one of the rooms.

you and jack shared a glance, before entering the apartment. you’d spent some time here occasionally, usually when jack was visiting vancouver on a road trip, but you didn’t remember the exact layout of this apartment.

quinn, who must’ve been eating lunch, shouted something in response, before making his way over.

“hey - oh my god, y/n!” he moved jack out of the way to give you a hug.

you laughed loudly, sticking your tongue out at jack who had crossed his arms and was pouting slightly.

“told you he loves me more,” you grinned.

this time around, you went to the stadium to watch the devils and canucks game, along with ellen and jim. anne joined you guys, but she didn’t seem very interested.

you wore a red devils jersey, sporting ‘hughes’ and the number 86 proudly on your back. hockey wasn’t a huge part of your life growing up, but after meeting jack, the sport grew on you. it was hard to date a hockey player and not be a hockey fan.

you watched the game intensely, cheering whenever one of the three hughes had the puck - but you were loudest when it was jack. nico scored near the end of the first period, leading to you and jim cheering and celebrating with one of your handshakes.

while ellen loved all three of her kids, her oldest had a special place in her heart. she couldn’t just cheer against his team.

“devils are winning this, ma,” you told her, laughing during the first intermission. jim had left you guys, with the promise of coming back after grabbing some food.  “i’m telling you, we’re getting a jack goal, maybe two, and then… i’m not sure, i feel like dawson’s gonna score one.”

ellen rolled her eyes, “keep dreaming honey. but anne and i know that quinn’s gonna win this one.”

you turned to anne, momentarily forgetting she was there. 

“what do you think, anne?” you asked, trying to appease your guilt-ridden conscience at forgetting her existence. “what’s the score gonna be?”

anne looked up from her phone, bored, “does it matter? it’s just a dumb game. i don’t even understand why you’re so interested. like honestly, i have better stuff to do. everyone should have better stuff to do.”

you blinked, slightly taken aback.

“excuse me?” ellen said to her, also put off by her words and tone.

“what?” anne looked up. “did i say something wrong?”

“you don’t have to be here, you know,” ellen told her. “in fact, if you’re not interested in the game, if you’re going to talk to my daughter like that, and if you ‘have better things to do’, go ahead and leave. no one’s stopping you.”

anne stared at ellen, at a loss for words.

“ma, it’s okay, really,” you said, trying to deescalate the situation. there were lots of people around, and you just didn’t want anyone to accidentally catch wind of the conversation. “let’s not do this right now. i’m sure we’re all just misunderstanding what’s going on.”

ellen huffed, crossing her arms and looking back at the ice. on the other side of you, anne did the same.

“okay, so i’ve got candy, hot dogs, and some pop. someone please take them from me before i drop them,” jim froze at the sight of the three of you, obviously catching the tension.

at your warning glance, he wisely remained silent.

the rest of the game was tense, but jack had scored two goals - he liked scoring against quinn - and the devils secured a win over the canucks. quinn had come away with two assists, but it just wasn’t enough in the end.

the tension remained, even after the game, but no one brought it up. not until months later, when you sat around the fire at the lake house.

-

“okay, but that move i pulled on you was still better than your goal,” quinn was saying to jack.

“no, no, no,” jack argued. “the goal was so much better.”

you, ellen, jim, and luke watched the two older boys argue, laughing amongst yourselves.

“hey, after the game, why were you all so tense and awkward?” luke turned to you suddenly.

jim shrugged, “i was just following what the rest of them were doing.”

ellen’s smile had turned sour, but you understood. you didn’t like thinking about that day very much either.

you waved it off, “you remember quinn’s girlfriend, anne?”

“oh, the redhead?”

“yup,” you nodded. “anyways, she was just being a little rude-”

“y/n, don’t sugarcoat her actions,” ellen shook her head. “y/n and i were having a conversation about the game while jim went to go get us some food. y/n tried to be nice and include anne in the conversation, but anne was rude and i didn’t like it, so i told her off. when someone’s being nice to you, you can’t just say stuff like that. i didn’t like her.”

luke laughed, “me neither, honestly. i don’t know why… something about her attitude just rubbed me wrong.”

“okay, okay, enough,” ellen said. “i don’t want to talk about her anymore.” she yawned, “on second thought, i don’t want to talk at all anymore. g’night guys.”

jim sighed, collecting the smore’s sticks and following his wife inside. you and luke watched jack and quinn argue, laughing whenever the other made a comment that didn’t make sense.

you were so tired, you didn’t even realize when you fell asleep.

-

jack smiled down at you, using his your hoodie as a blanket to cover yourself as you slept.

“i don’t care if you guys have been together for years,” luke muttered as he walked by, “staring like that is still weird.”

“wait until you get a girlfriend,” jack muttered, rolling his eyes at his younger brother.

he leaned down, lifting you up off the chair and into his arms bridal style. your eyes fluttered, but at the sound of jack’s soft voice, you nestled comfortably in his arms and fell back asleep.

luke and quinn waved at him as he carried you down the hall and to bed.

“i keep forgetting to ask,” luke turned to his oldest brother suddenly. “what happened to anne? why’d you guys break up?”

quinn shrugged to himself, “after the last devils and canucks game, she said she didn’t like y/n very much, and she didn’t like how mom talked to her or something. and obviously, mom’s not going to be rude unless she was rude first. i told her that, she got mad and said i can’t talk to y/n anymore. i said we can’t be together if she doesn’t like y/n or mom because those are two of the most important females in my life. if she doesn’t like my mom or my sister, how’re we supposed to go on?”

“so you broke it off?” luke asked.

“so i broke it off,” quinn agreed.

luke nodded, as if the explanation made sense.

you were a part of the boys’ lives, a huge part. there was no way they would compromise when it came to you. there was no better thing than the relationship they had with you.

[rodr1cks]

Hi! I don't know if your request are open, but I'd like to know if you could write a rodrick x reader where the reader is Rowley's sister and discovers her talking on the phone with a friend saying she's in love with Rodrick and tells Greg and he tells her that Rodrick has been in love with her for a long time and they try to put them together?

cw: none it’s pure fluff

word count: 1.8k

“I know! And he didn’t even apologize!” Greg ranted into the receiver.

“I’m sorry, Greg,” Rowley frowned, sympathetic nature as present as always. “Anyways, mom says dinner is ready, see you tonight?” Rowley’s tone lifted at the end of his sentence, excitement brewing as he thought about the sleepover he was meant to have with Greg later that evening.

You slid into the kitchen on your socks, just as Rowley was concluding his conversation with Greg.

Rowley sat anxiously through dinner, quickly consuming everything on his plate, including the vegetables. You observed him from across the table, cocking your head as your younger brother inhaled his peas like he hadn’t eaten in days.

He took his last bite before exclaiming, “I’m going to pack my stuff for Greg’s!”

Not without clearing his dishes first, of course.

You rolled your eyes at his charisma and headed into the living room. You slumped over on the couch, limbs splayed every which way as you called your friend, Marissa. You had been needing to gush to somebody about your newest crush, Rodrick Heffley.

You had only interacted with the messy haired boy in passing: family dinners, picking up Greg, dropping off Rowley, etc.

“I don’t know what it is, he’s just so- so- captivating. God, Mar, I swear I could watch him play drums for hours on end!”

Unbeknownst to you, Rowley had entered the room and was about to speak. You were too caught up in drooling over Rodrick to notice. “Hey, y/n-” He cut himself off quickly, curiosity getting the best of him.

“And did you see what he was wearing at Matt’s party? Those jeans? And that eyeliner? God I could just tear them-”

Rowley cleared his throat, unwilling to hear the rest. “Y/n can you take me to Greg’s, please?” He stood awkwardly with his lips pursed.

Your head whipped around faster than the speed of light. “Marissa, I gotta go.”

“Rowley, how much of that did you hear?”

He lied, something he wasn’t really good at, “Not much! I promise!”

“Rowley Jefferson you had better keep your mouth shut, or I swear I’ll-”

You stopped yourself, closing your eyes and drawing in a deep breath. “Just get in the car.” You breathed out in a scarily calm tone. Your red headed sibling nodded frantically out of fear and darted to the garage.

Usually, you would make him walk, but ever since your infatuation with Rodrick began, you were more eager to give him rides over there. The mere prospect of getting the slightest glance sending excitement throughout your entire being.

When you pulled up to the Heffley home, you gave him a final glare. “Say nothing.” He gave you the same shaky nod he gave you only moments ago. With that, he was bounding towards the front door. You made sure he got inside safely and drove off.

“Rowley? Everything okay?” Greg asked his friend, concerned with his behavior. Rowley couldn’t handle keeping secrets. His hands grew clammy and a slight sweat broke out on his forehead. Rowley had an uncomfortably fake smile plastered on his face as he tried to assure Greg that everything was just peachy.

All it took was one knowing look from Greg and Rowley broke.

“Alright, fine! I heard my sister talking to her friend about how hot Rodrick is and how she wants to-”

“Okay, okay! I get the picture!”

Greg took a moment to proceed, his brows furrowed as he brought a contemplative fist up to support his chin.

“Lemme get this straight. Your sister likes my brother?”

Rowley nodded slowly.

“Y/n likes Rodrick?”

Rowley nodded again, confirming Greg’s exclamations.

“But y/n is smart a-and hot!”

“Greg! Don’t say that!” Rowley groaned, rolling his head back in disgust. Greg threw both of his hands up in defense, “I’m just stating facts.”

“Wait, I have an idea.” A pit of dread grew in Rowley’s stomach, Greg’s ideas never turned out well.

“What if we set up y/n with Rodrick? Just hear me out, this could be good for him.”

Rowley mulled the idea over in his head, thinking that maybe dating you could make Rodrick more… agreeable? Maybe you could be a good influence on the intimidating teenager. A happier Rodrick would make sleepovers at Greg’s a lot more pleasant.

“I think that could work,” Rowley said apprehensively. “But how do we do it?”

Greg shrugged, “Simple, we just tell Rodrick there’s a really hot Girl interested in him.”

The boys proceeded to draw up a plan.

Phase one: The approach. Greg and Rowley nervously ascended the wooden steps that led to Rodrick’s room. Rodrick was laying on his back, spinning a drumstick between his nimble fingers.

He shot up immediately when he noticed the boys’ presence. “What are your dweebs doing up here?”

Phase two: Delivery. “Calm down Rodrick, we have some information you might wanna know,” Greg reasoned cooly, easing Rodrick’s anger from a roaring ten to a mild six.

Greg nodded over at Rowley, signaling him to start talking.

“W-well,” Rowley stuttered, “I uhm- heard my sister talking about you and she- she likes you and she was talking about your jeans?”

Rodrick blinked in confusion, processing this intel.

“Your sister likes me? Are you sure she meant me?”

“That’s what I said!” Greg exclaimed and Rodrick shot him a terrifying glare, silently telling Greg to can it.

Rodrick was honestly shocked. He always observed you from afar, deciding himself that a chick as cool as you would never go for him. This news was absolutely world shattering for the boy, he completely admired you.

Phase three: Action. “We have a plan.” Greg said, a conniving grin creeping onto his face. “Rowley calls y/n, tells her that he’s feeling sick and blames it on Mom’s pot roast or something. Then when she rushes over all worried, you greet her at the door. And then you work your Rodrick magic!” Greg smiled, abundant pride for his plan evident in his stature.

“It’s a go.” Rodrick declared, scrambling around his room to put on deodorant, a new t-shirt, and cologne before pointing at Rowley. “Make the call.”

“Hey, y/n,” Rowley groaned into the phone, sounding as sick as he possibly could. “I- I think I ate something bad and I really need you ro come get me.”

You sighed, telling him you’d be there in ten minutes and to have his things ready to go. You departed for the Heffley house for the second time that night.

When Rowley didn’t come out to your car, you trudged up to the red door to go retrieve the sickly boy.

You gave the door three lazy knocks, expecting Rowley’s face to be the one behind it when it swung open. “Hey kid, are you feeling okay?” You asked, not yet making eye contact with the figure leering in the doorframe.

Your eyes widened as you came to realize who it was.

“Funny seeing you here,” Rodrick drawled out, a smirk tugging at his lips. Your cheeks burned with the heat of one thousand suns, you were not expecting this tonight.

“Y-yeah,” you smiled awkwardly, staring at your feet. “Rowley called, he uhm, he’s not feeling well. So if you could just get him for me I can leave. Immediately.” You cursed yourself for your blubbering idiocy as you twiddled your fingers.

“Actually, Rowley is feeling much, much better.” Suspicion grew as you studied Rodrick’s devious expression. “What’s going on?” You asked, genuinely puzzled as nothing was making any sense.

“I don’t know, y/n. Why don’t you come in and tell me?” Rodrick was surprisingly smooth in this situation, despite his nerves being at an all time high.

“Rowley is just up here,” Rodrick said while guiding you up the stairs to his room. In the meantime, Greg and Rowley peered out from the hallway, watching you follow Rodrick upstairs and giggling to themselves.

The overhead lights in Rodrick’s room were turned on, the glow from his string lights illuminating the area instead. “Mood lighting,” as he had called it. Rodrick had already instructed the boys to stay far away once you had arrived.

You were still lost, Rowley nowhere in sight. “So? Where is he?” You asked expectantly.

“Here’s the thing y/n. You know Rowley can’t keep secrets, right? I mean you have to know that, he is your brother”

Shit.

“That little shit stain! I’ll get him, I swear to god!” You turned to bound down the stairs, ready to tear the entire house apart in hunting for him. Rodrick grabbed your wrist before your foot could even reach the first step.

“Y/n, relax, relax!” His grip on your flesh made your breath hitch and stomach churn. “It’s okay, I feel the same way.” Rodrick’s cocky facade dissipated into nothing as he revealed his feelings.

You got a glimpse of a more vulnerable side of Rodrick that you were sure he didn’t typically share. “But girls like you don’t usually like stupid guys like me,” Rodrick was staring at the ground now, grasp on your arm softening.

You were too unsure of your words so you opted to move your free hand to hold his bicep, closing a considerable amount of distance between the two of you in the process.

“Rodrick, I’ve never liked anybody as much as I like you. And I don’t mean that in a weird or creepy way it’s just that-”

Now it was time for Rodrick’s own addition to the plan. Phase four: The kiss.

Your rambling was cut short by a pair of warm lips pressing against your own. He kissed you with just enough force to cause you to stumble back a bit, causing you to brace yourself against his torso.

He carded a gentle hand through your hair and tugged back on your soft locks. You moaned at the vibrations tendrilling at your scalp and kissed him with even more ferocity.

Somehow, you ended up on his bed, straddling him. The blankets strewn across his mattress melded against your knees and the fronts of your calves as you stabilized yourself on his lap.

He placed apprehensive hands on your hip bones, unsure of what was okay and what wasn’t. You placed your hand on top of his larger one, assuring him that you were comfortable. You even allowed a small whimper to leave your throat as he tightened his hold on you.

You only pulled away to catch your breath, looking into his eyes for the first time that night. You smiled warmly at him as you cupped his cheek. Suddenly, Rodrick’s signature smirk returned to his face.

“Now tell me what you were saying about my jeans.”

[moonctzeny]

Can I request WayV reaction to you suddenly avoiding skinship/intimacy because you don't feel attractive anymore after they rejected you once? (they were tired or just not in the mood at that time)

WayV reaction - you avoid intimacy out of insecurity after they rejected your skinship

warnings: WinWin's gets a tiny bit suggestive, alcohol consumption

▪️Kun

He looked so good when he cooked. You couldn’t stop your eyes from following the veins on his arms as he cut the various vegetables in the smallest of pieces. Your fingers ached to run across their length so you let them, stroking the little hairs in the opposite direction from their growth in the meantime.

“Y/n, not now”, he whines with a strictness in his voice that has you withering away from him.

You stayed quiet for the rest of the cooking, watching Kun in silence until he finally put the dish in the oven to cook. He walks over to your seat on the countertop, fitting himself between your legs. His hands find their place on each of your shoulders, making their way down to your elbows lovingly, yet you go rigid at the feeling and back away from his touch.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“Do I annoy you sometimes?”

Kun’s eyebrows shoot up at your question, dropping his hands immediately to wrap them around your wrists instead.

“Never. What makes you think that?”

“You seemed pretty annoyed at me when you were cooking earlier”

His face stays frozen for a second, trying to figure out what exactly you were talking about. You’re taken aback when he starts to laugh light-heartedly, planting a kiss on your pouty lips.

“I didn’t tell you to stop because I didn’t like you touching me, baby. I needed you to stop because I liked it too much”

▪️Ten

You avoided his kisses like the plague. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into you, usually your nights visiting his dorm consisted of the both of you cuddling each other to death, napping in sheets that smelled of him and inviting the cats that snuggled between you. However now, the more he tried to approach you, the more you scooted away from him, and your excuses were starting to run out.

“Are you avoiding me or something?”

You shake your head negatively, avoiding eye contact so that he doesn’t see through you. But Ten is intuitive, especially when it comes to you, so he repeats the question again until he gets a sigh as an answer.

“You told me off pretty badly when I tried to kiss you an hour ago you know…”

“When I was drawing? You pushed my hand on accident and I missed like, half of my work!”

When he sees you continuing to be visibly upset at him, despite his light and teasing tone, he lifts your hand from your lap to his lips, kissing your wrist, then your palm, then your ring finger.

“I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t”, he leans over to peck your lips mid-sentence, and his voice is too soothing for you to resist him, “You know how much I love to kiss you.”

As if to prove his point he brings you closer again, and he smiles into the kiss when he feels you deepening it.

“I could taste your lips forever”

▪️WinWin

▪️WinWin

Your boyfriend was never big on skinship and you knew. You understood his paranoia of holding hands in public, even with sunglasses and a big mask covering half of his handsome face. Being a celebrity isn’t easy and you had come to terms with that, but you didn’t know he would react so coldly to you in this private party with his members being the only ones invited.

You were a little tipsy, holding on to Sicheng’s arm for stability, and admittedly you just wanted a little love from your boyfriend. Pulling his hair out of his eyes, you pucker your lips at him, waiting for a kiss that never came.

“What is up with you today? You’re all over me!”

The drive home was quiet, your whole body facing away from him, eyes staring outside the window or anywhere else but him. You weren’t angry, just sad if anything else, and Sicheng felt he had enough when you started to storm off to your shared bedroom without him. A hand on your wrist stops you abruptly.

“Why are you like this? You’ve been quiet ever since we left the party”

“Do you not find me attractive anymore?”

The filter between your brain and mouth had vanished from the alcohol, shocking Sicheng with your candor.

“What on earth makes you think that?”

“You never kiss me in front of your friends. It’s like you're embarrassed of being seen with me…”

Your boyfriend’s eyebrows furrow, almost meeting on the base of his forehead before he pushes you up against the entrance door. The kiss he initiates is full of passion and something animalistic that you’ve always thought looks good on him. It isn't long before the hands that you so desperately needed on your body before formed bruises on the skin over your hipbones.

“The reason why I don’t kiss you in public is because I won’t be able to stop, not when you always look so pretty. And then I will make you look needy and breathless and messy, just like you do right now. I don’t want anyone else to see you like this. You’re too damn beautiful. You’re mine.”

▪️Lucas

Skinship and Lucas were synonyms when it came to your relationship. He loved getting to touch you at all times, whether it was a big, suffocating hug or just his large hands on the small of your back. You were barely awake when your boyfriend came back to your apartment, his busy schedule with SuperM keeping his side of the bed colder than you’d like. He didn’t even bother to wash up, just took his clothes off and covered himself up with your shared duvet and his chest facing your own. Satisfied with his mere presence, you scoot over, and lay one arm over his waist, bringing yourself closer. It was a shock to you when he turned to the other side, unwrapping your arm in the process and letting it fall in the space between you.

You decided not to address the incident that left a sting to your heart the next morning, spending the whole day with Lucas since it was rare for him to be free of any schedules. It was absolutely lovely, from the movie you watched to the homemade food you prepared for the both of you. Until the sun set again.

“Are you going back to your dorm now?”, you ask him while doing the dishes, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, maybe you prefer sleeping in your own bed. Alone.”

Your back is facing him but you can sense the pout forming on his handsome features. You feel his body heat as he comes closer to you and wraps his arms around you, only for you to squirm away from his hold and pat your hands dry, leaving the sink.

“What’s wrong?”, Lucas asks quietly, his eyes doubling in size.

“It’s just that last night when I tried to cuddle you to sleep you avoided me… It’s okay if you don’t want to crash here you know-”

“Babe, babe”, he starts, taking your hands in his, “I was dirty and sweaty last night. I didn’t have the energy to shower and I felt gross. I would never reject a night with you”

“Really?”

“Really. Now how about we go to bed and I give you those cuddles that I owe you?”

▪️Xiaojun

It was rare to see Xiaojun be so frustrated with anything. He’d been sitting on that same spot of the bed for hours now, guitar propped up on his lap and a blank sheet of paper in front of him. You tried to relieve his stress anyway you could, massaging his shoulders, kissing his cheek every time he sighed. And while your boyfriend accepted them at first, soon you saw him bend away from your acts of affection, so much so that you were worried about whether you have angered him.

An icky feeling weighed you down when he kept ignoring you as time went by, realizing that today was not the day you’d get the quality time you craved from your boyfriend. Quiet so as not to bother him, you start to collect your things and pack them back into your bag, the sound of the zipper finally catching Xiaojun’s attention.

“Where are you going?”

“You seem busy. I’ll come by another day”

“No no no!”, he exclaims, swiftly pulling his guitar aside, “I was looking forward to seeing you”

“Well you don’t seem to want any love from me right now. We can reschedule our date night for another time”

You didn’t expect him to jump up on his feet so quickly, neither to pull you into a hug as tight. His words come out muffled from your hair that is covering his mouth as he kisses it.

“Don’t leave, please. I’m sorry I was ignoring you”

“No, I’m sorry if I overstepped your personal space”

You soothe out the wrinkles that have formed between his pretty eyebrows with your thumb, taking a moment to appreciate his warm smile before he brings you into a long kiss.

“I’m stuck on this song that I’m writing. Maybe I just need inspiration”

▪️Hendery

“Why are you looking in the mirror so much?”

In the span of the last hour you managed to feel insecure over your hair, your skin, your choice of clothing. You thought you were being subtle when checking out yourself, the reflection only making you wanna shrink even more with every quick glance.

“Do you still find me as attractive as you did when we first met? Like do you ever get butterflies on your stomach anymore?”

“Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?”

You sigh, rubbing your face in embarrassment. Being content in yourself was a challenge on its own, even more so when your boyfriend looked like that.

“When we first started dating we were all over each other. I wouldn’t even make it past your bedroom door before you kissed me everywhere. Ten called us disgusting all the time.”

“And?”

“And now it’s been an hour since I came here and you haven’t even touched me...”

Hendery sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair defeatedly. With a soft hand motion he encourages you to come lie next to him on his bed, cupping your face before leaving a kiss on your lips.

“When we first started dating I couldn’t believe you were mine. I had this urgency in me like I had to taste as much of you as I could. Like you would slip away from my fingers, but-”

“But?”

Hendery takes your hand in his, and starts a trail of shiver-inducing kisses from your wrist up to your shoulder, so slow that you thought he’d never finish his sentence.

“But I realized that it wasn’t fair to you. I want to love you like we have a lifetime ahead, not like our time is running out. I want to love you like you deserve, and I want to take my time”

▪️Yangyang

He was playing that damn video game again. Yangyang always looked so cute when he was concentrating so heavily, lips pursed in a pout and eyes following the different players on the screen. Desperate to feel the softness of his hoodie and comfort on his embrace you come closer to him, attempting to sit on his lap.

“He’s behind you! Shoot! Shoot!” You jump up from your seat along with him, wrapping your hands around his neck to keep your balance. “Babe not now! You made me miss the screen!”

Hurt by his sharp tone and volume of his voice you start to get up, hating the burning feeling of the fresh tears that begged to escape the corners of your eyes.

Yangyang’s grip on your elbow stops you before you leave his lap, a worried look painted on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

“You know sometimes you get so into your games that you yell at me over nothing…”

His pretty face falls into a frown, whole body rigid and focused on your sad expression.

“Baby, come here”

Throwing one leg over his lap, Yangyang turns you around in his hold so that you’re facing him. His fingers pet your hair until you close your eyes in bliss, your breath slowing down until it matches his.

“You’re right. I’m so, so sorry if I said something that hurt you. Will you please stay here? You’re my lucky charm. My beautiful, lucky charm that fits right into my lap”

You smile at his sweet words, letting your head rest against his neck and enjoying the little backrubs he gave you until he felt you were fully relaxed. You easily fell asleep in his arms, your sweet dreams interrupted only from the kisses he left on your temples.

[wonlouvre]

more for forever | k. mg.

pairing: editor-in-chief mingyu x female reader genre: fluff, a little bit of angst, cliché (in the sense that mingyu is rich and likes to spoil his girlfriend) warnings: mentions of insecurity, food word count: 2.8k

💌: this is just pure indulgence and i really hope you all like this! please wait for wonwoo because i have something in store for him too ;) again, this is cliché please forgive me. please tell me what you think about it hehe i love reading your comments, feedbacks and tags! also a big thank you to @minkwans​ for sharing their ideas and giving this oneshot life! <3

The name Kim Mingyu didn’t ring a bell before. Not until his executive assistant reached out to you because apparently, the photographer slash writer read one of your blog posts and wanted you to take part for their sixth year anniversary issue. You know the famous magazine and publishing company, which is why you thought it was a scam or a ploy to steal your money. It’s a stupid assumption but you can’t blame your mind imagining the worse because you are not a fashion blogger at all. Why would a fashion magazine want you to write an article for them?

Sure, you regularly write and post blog entries on your website. But you write about your dog, your recently bought tea coaster and sometimes your skincare routine. Okay, maybe your occasional outfit of the day as well but nothing in detail. Again, why do they want you to write for them?

Kim Mingyu answered your questions and uncertainties when he personally emailed his contact details to you. You didn’t have to bite, but it didn’t hurt to confirm at the same time. You dialed the number and he indeed proved you wrong. He invited you for a meeting at his office and you accepted. 

Your visits to high-rise buildings, much more to the luxurious office of an executive, is rare to never. You were jaw slacked when your eyes took in the crisp architecture. The design, the furniture, the color, the everything was beyond what you could have imagined a publishing company’s headquarters could be. 

The meeting was nothing but short of an interview. He asked about your blog (which does not even have its own domain by the way), he asked what else you write about, he asked about your desk job (which doesn’t pay much but enough for you to get by), he asked if you have any background about fashion and one last question about your dog, Max, before talking about his proposal. 

To be honest, Mingyu’s offer was tempting. For one article, the commission would be enough for you to move out of your current apartment and move to a brand new and fully-furnished one. But you remained true to yourself and without thinking twice, you declined. 

You can tell that the editor-in-chief and his assistant, who stood beside him all throughout, was surprised by the looks on their faces. But Mingyu respected your decision and didn’t pursue any further. You took your stand from the chair and sincerely thanked him for the time and opportunity. You thought that would be it but when he followed suit with your actions and reached his hand out, it was your turn to be surprised. 

You didn’t hesitate to mirror him and shake his hand, firmly. After that, you’d figure that it’s the end and that you’ll probably get to see a glimpse of him only through your television or phone. But Mingyu proved you wrong once again when he sent an unexpected email three days later asking why.

What might be the reason why you didn’t accept his offer? 

You believed he deserved an explanation of your personal reasons so you disclosed them. And just like that the conversation on that email thread naturally progressed and eventually deepened. The professional emails became casual text messages, the text messages became phone calls, and the phone calls became actual face to face dates at late hours of the evening because he usually clocks out at 9 o’clock. 

The rest, as they say, was in the hands of history. 

Your first date with Mingyu was particularly odd. It was at a traditional Korean restaurant owned by one of his friends who introduced himself as Angel even though his real name is Jeonghan. You didn’t question him or anyone else why because that’s none of your business. But back to the date. It was odd because you have never been to a restaurant that’s completely empty and dead silent before (aside of course, from the typical music played in the background). You asked Mingyu if such an occurrence is normal and he just plainly answered that he rented the whole place all to yourselves. You have always known he’s rich. However, you didn’t believe that booking the whole restaurant was necessary.  

Nonetheless, that first date, in some way, was special for you because there were no distractions. You enjoyed his company and you can tell he enjoyed yours too because he’s quick to mention a second date and it didn’t take a heartbeat for you to say yes. 

But, by far, Mingyu inviting you to the behind the scenes of the making of the sixth anniversary issue that you turned down writing for is one of the most memorable dates the two of you had. It was out of the blue and you two were having difficulty in syncing your schedules. He was beginning to get busier and busier as the anniversary neared and the only way he could think of still making time for you is inviting you to his office. He called you and asked if you’re free to have lunch together. And you, being attracted to the handsome and tall man, didn’t hesitate to say yes. 

He was in the middle of ending his morning meeting when you arrived and you were almost caught off-guard when all eyes were suddenly on you, making you feel small. But Mingyu didn't care as his smile beamed, immediately standing up from his chair to walk towards you. The rest of his staff were still in the midst of walking out of his office when he grasped your hand to pull you inside and you have never felt so shy your whole life.

Since then, he made you tag along to the creative process and you witnessed how hands on he was with every article, every photo, every brand, every trend and every detail that goes to the magazine that he has built and loved with his blood, sweat and tears. He’s beyond dedicated in finding and doing what’s best for the magazine and most importantly, its loyal readers. 

You can tell that he really is deserving of everything that he has and is still receiving.

Mingyu being perfect also applies to your relationship. He’s always present despite being booked with fittings, meetings, photoshoots and business travels twenty-nine days of the month. He never fails to call, never fails to answer your calls. He never fails to offer the warmest hugs and the softest kisses. Well, he fails to be on time during your dates sometimes but he never once stood you up and his cuddles when he sleeps over are enough to apologize for the lost time.

The only flaw he has is that he doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. Most especially at times where he wants to shower his love in ways that cost more than your paycheck in a year.

Here are some examples:

You know that Mingyu pays attention to every word you say. Even if you just mentioned a passing topic, he will do his best to keep those in mind. With that being said, you mentioned once that you want to renovate the extra bedroom of your apartment and turn it into a study where you could work someday. Your boyfriend, being the rich man he is, offered to hire and pay a team that could help you bring the design you envisioned into life. 

That was during the first few months of your relationship and you were flabbergasted by how easy it was for him to do or much less say. Needless to say, you immediately turned him down and he respected that (but of course, he pouted about it like a child all throughout the day). 

But wait, there’s more. 

Do you remember how you mentioned that Mingyu travels frequently? Yes? Well, Mingyu always books an extra ticket for you just in case you want to join him. Sometimes it’s not even about the flight ticket anymore. It’s about him stopping by your apartment to pick you up unexpectedly as if France is only a drive away. 

It’s unbelievable, really. That’s why you always close the door on his face. But of course, you don’t forget to give him a long kiss and “stay safe” or “I’ll miss you” farewell. Mingyu, ever the good boy he is, lets you win and just return your kisses a little longer for the days he won’t be able to do so. 

Mingyu’s intentions are pure and you’re well aware that the man that you love is only doing this because it’s simple, he loves you. He wants what’s best for you, he wants to give you what you deserve. You can never blame him for being out of touch from reality at times, but you can learn and grow with him. Although of course, he still needs a scolding and a wake up call every now and then. 

Anything else? Yes.

You didn’t take into consideration that he’d remember, but one night while the two of you were about to fall asleep, you sleepily mumbled about your dreams of attending graduate school. It was a mere whisper in the late night against his chest and you even thought that he wouldn’t hear you at all because his eyes were already closed. You honestly didn’t expect that he’d send you brochures of different universities who offer various programs the following day. You had to calm him down as he excitedly talked you through it. You even had to shut him up with your lips and explain that you don’t have the time to study at the moment with your current job. He tried to encourage you with praises and admiration of your dedication, skills and knowledge. But no, you didn’t buy it and that’s the end of discussion. 

The gifts, however, are something that Mingyu is not giving up on. The first few instances he gave you gifts whether it be a high-end handbag, shoes, clothing, and even jewelry, you allowed him. Because there were only a few. But along the way, the gifts got bigger and more frequent. You had to sit him down to set limitations. It was a long conversation of him trying to get the upper hand. But you didn’t let him outsmart you with his hugs and kisses. It was either he was going to tone it down with the gifts or no gifts at all. 

Sometimes, as much as you hate to admit it to yourself, you can’t avoid getting insecure and afraid that the euphoric time you share with Mingyu is not meant to last. At some point, the fact that he's one of the youngest successful editor-in-chiefs of a multi-million earning magazine got overwhelming. You can’t help but feel that you’re no match for him. And again, you hate that your mind gets clouded with ideas that you’re just a charity case he enjoys spending his money on. Of course, you believe that he doesn’t look at you in that way.

It’s you who thinks so. 

“Hey.”

You release the bite on your bottom lip at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice. Your lost eyes shoot to the stove where he’s cooking and you notice that he’s about done so you should set the table. 

You didn’t even answer Mingyu’s call which concerns him. He wipes the sauce off his hands on the apron he’s wearing and holds your waist before you could even round the corner to the cabinets. 

His warmth snaps you out of your thoughts. Your eyes blink up to him and he just raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Is there something wrong?” He asks and lowers the heat of the conduction. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you lie, shaking your head, “Let me get the plates. I’m quite hungry.”

You try escaping his strong arms and gaze, but he doesn’t let you go. Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist tighter. Your palms automatically land on his chest and the lean muscles make you gulp. 

“I’m going to ask again and this time, I want you to tell me the truth,” he says in a serious yet gentle tone. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh and lean your forehead against his chest. Mingyu also sighs and kisses the top of your head. It’s better to tell him now because you’re not going to get anywhere if you’re just going to keep it to yourself. It will be unfair for him too and that’s not what you want. 

“I just don’t feel so good about myself over the past few days,” you finally voice out. You sound weak, but Mingyu can hear you loud and clear. “I feel like I don’t deserve you.”

Mingyu had to pull away and hold your shoulders to search your eyes, his frown showing disbelief and sadness both at the same time. “Did I do or say something to make you feel this way?”

“No, no,” you quickly say and hold his cheeks. “You did absolutely nothing. It’s just all in my head.”

Mingyu becomes silent and you wish you could just drop it because the regret and embarrassment is slowly dawning upon you. You wish you didn’t bring it up anymore because why would you burden him with your problems? 

But Mingyu proves you wrong once again by holding your hand and carefully tugging you to sit on the dining table, saying softly, “Come on. Let’s talk about it.”

And talk you did. You let out your concerns, worries, fears and insecurities. You bore it all without hiding or masking anything. A tear or two slipped once or twice and some words were interrupted by your hiccups, but Mingyu was patient. He listened and held your hand, promising you that it’s okay. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to be worried. It’s okay to be vulnerable in front of him. It’s okay to trust him because he loves you. 

Mingyu loves you and his words and actions assure you that it’s okay to love him too. 

When there were no more words left to say, the two of you shared a comfortable silence. The weight on your shoulders and the sick feeling in your stomach immediately vanished and you have never felt so relieved. You have never felt so free and loved. You can’t believe that Kim Mingyu is real. 

“I know that this is unwarranted,” Mingyu breaks the silence after a while, “but I want you to know that I don’t think of you in any of those ways. To me, you’re the person I love and I am happy with regardless of our different upbringings, different jobs. Those don’t matter to the time and love we share together.”

“I know,” you affirm and kiss his cheek. 

Mingyu nods and smiles against the palm of your hand when a memory suddenly pops in his mind. “I’m not sure if I have told you this already. But the blog entry of yours that caught my attention is about your first ever blog post.”

Your eyes widen at his confession. You have never heard of this before. “You mean the one where I talked about why I love writing so much?”

Your boyfriend smiles and nods. “That one.”

“Gosh. That’s so embarrassing,” you groan and palm your face. 

“What do you mean embarrassing?” He argues, taking your hand to hold again. “That post was one of the most genuine posts that I have ever read. You explained, word by word, your passion, love and dedication to writing in the most honest way possible. Who wouldn’t be moved?”

You pout and unbeknownst to you, that makes his heart squeeze in adoration. 

“It’s not that special,” you mumble, eyes on your intertwined hands. 

“It is to me though.”

Mingyu’s eyes are dreamy and glossy as you meet them again and you could never be more in love. He holds your arms, coaxing you to stand up to straddle his lap. You giggle when he protectively wraps his arms around your waist. His nose scrunches when it grazes yours, but upon meeting his lips you feel it exhale a breath of relief.

You kissed and kissed and kissed. But when Max barks at the two of you, reminding you of the dinner you’re supposed to eat and share with him, the two of you burst into laughter before reluctantly detaching from each other. 

“You doting over me with material things is a perk,” you humor him and he gives you his signature giggle. “But, I wouldn’t trade sharing the same bed, cooking meals or taking care of Max together over any of those.” 

Mingyu nods gives you one last yet long kiss, a promise that there’s more for later. 

More for forever. 

---

a/n 2: this was supposed to be the header/poster of this story but it was too big lol

[thornedrose44]

Prompt: Lena accidentally creates something that makes everyone attracted to her except kara (she is immune) basically jealous!kara 😬

Read on AO3 (Prompt from @urjustwaiting)

“My dearest Lena,” Brainy began, brown eyes bright and earnest as he cradled Lena’s hand in both of his like it was something precious and fragile, “I have always considered you to be my intellectual equal and a friend of the highest order. Recently, however, I have found my feelings of friendship for you have shifted - grown into something unexpected and wondrous.”

Brainy inhaled sharply, gathering his courage as Lena’s eyes widened with abject shock and horror at what was occurring.

“Lena Luthor, I have fallen irrevocably in love with you”, Briany declared confident and unfalteringly certain, “and I was wondering if I could spend time conversing with you over a sizeable meal?”

To say Lena’s day had started strangely would be the understatement of the century. She had arrived at the DEO following the news that there had been an attempted break-in last night at the secret facility that had been successfully fended off by Kara, Brainy, Nia and Andrea (the newest superhero to join the club).

Alex, who had taken her first night off since becoming director, had rushed onsite as soon as she was alerted to what had happened; her first order had been to bring Lena in to evaluate the building’s defenses and put in suitable improvements for any weaknesses identified. It was a sign of how much trust Lena had earned amongst the Superfriends, and more specifically Alex, that no one hesitated to call her in for help with something as sensitive as security flaws.

Lena had fought hard to earn back the trust she had nearly lost, rebuild the bridges both sides had burnt and therefore she didn’t balk at the ridiculously early wake-up call and did not even consider saying no to Alex’s request.

The second she arrived at the DEO, she knew something was off.

People were staring at her, which shouldn’t have been odd for a Luthor in the slightest but Lena was used to being ignored at the DEO. The agents milling the corridors would give fleeting glances and welcoming nods but nothing more - many of them owed their life to a last minute scientific breakthrough courtesy of Lena’s intellect and as such they respected her enough to treat her like she was one of them - like she belonged here - because of it. Walking into the DEO to find herself the subject of many furtive gazes and unsubtle wandering eyes was therefore worrisome to say the least.

Lena’s concern merely increased as she made her way further into the DEO where she couldn’t go more than a metre without being approached by agents trying out a cheesy pick-up line or inviting her to coffee/dinner. Two rather charming agents actually dropped down on one knee at the same time to propose to her there and then - Lena was saved from answering as her wannabe future spouses got into a fist fight. The worst one, by far, was Pam from HR who shouted that she was enthusiastically willing to bear all of Lena’s future children - Lena promptly sprinted into the command centre and had been momentarily relieved to see Brainy there waiting for her.

The relief was obviously dashed a minute later when Brainy grabbed her hand and sweetly announced his love for her.

“Brainy, what the hell!?”

Those were the exact words Lena had wanted to shout but had been unable to find her voice to do so, thankfully (or not so as the case may be), Nia had voiced them for her and was striding into the room with a furious expression on her face.

“Nia, it’s not what it looks like-” Lena rushed to reassure as Nia pushed her boyfriend away from the youngest Luthor.

“How could you?!” Nia demanded, rounding on the Coulan.

“Nia, I think there’s something wrong-” Lena began to interrupt, knowing how much Brainy loved Nia and her alarm bells from the agents earlier ringing loudly in her head when....

“I wanted to ask her out.” Nia exclaimed stamping her foot childishly before turning to face Lena with fluttering eyelashes and a seductive pout. “Lena, please my love is far more real than Brainy’s. Don’t go out with him.” Nia pleaded as Briany scoffed derisively behind her.

“Lena is smart enough to see through your fraudulent affection. She was on the precipice of accepting my offer of a date.” Briany cut in with a superior raise of his chin.

“No, she wasn’t!” Nia rebuked, turning back to Brainy with clenched fists.

“Yes, she was!” Brainy returned, chest puffing out as they both stepped forward as if to engage in battle when a sudden red and blue blur appeared between them as a physical barrier.

“What on Earth is going on?” Kara questioned, brow creased in confusion as she looked between the couple that seemed to be seconds away from trading blows.

“I LOVE LENA MORE!” They both shouted in answer whilst they simultaneously lunged towards one another.

“What?!” Kara gasped as she hurriedly tried to keep the two apart. “Lena?” Kara asked, wide-eyed and gobsmacked, clearly looking for an explanation.

“I don’t know!” Lena responded quick and panicked. “I came in and everyone’s been…”

“Everyone’s been what?” Kara prompted as she ducked a wild swing from a feisty Nia.

“Like this.” Lena gestured to Briany and Nia who were futilely trying to dodge around the kryptonian superhero.

Kara blinked rapidly at this information but reacted quickly, super speeding Brainy and Nia away from the command centre as carefully as she could. Kara was back less than a minute later, appearing harried and uncomfortable but she wasn’t looking at Lena any differently to normal. Soft blue eyes watched her the exact same way and as soon as she was back, she gently encouraged Lena into their standard hug with a light touch to her elbow.

Lena folded happy and willing into Kara’s arms burying her face into the kyrptonian’s shoulder as Kara gently stroked her back.

“So… interesting morning so far?” Kara teased managing to pull forth a relieved chuckle from the CEO.

“You could say that.” Lena sighed, letting her eyes slip closed for a fleeting second as she quickly inhaled Kara’s familiar airy scent before pulling away and putting her armour back on. “I seem to have suddenly become irresistible to everyone here.” Lena explained, nearly convincing herself that she saw a flash of a sad pout on her best friend’s face when she ended their hug. “Except for you, of course.” Lena clarified.

“Well… uh… I…” Kara stammered, face blushing a bright red as she self-consciously rubbed the back of her neck.

“Don’t worry, Kara, I’m not offended.” Lena reassured, giving Kara an out even as it caused her heart to painfully twinge with a familiar loss and yearning that always accompanied the realisation that Kara would never see her the same way.

“Lena-” Kara began, lips pressed tight together as she took a tentative step forward.

“Lena, there you are!”

Kara and Lena’s heads turned immediately to see Andrea striding into the room, dressed to impress in a tight black dress and red soled heels that drew attention to her long, sinful legs.

“Oh, dear…” Lena murmured, swallowing thickly, as Andrea approached with a dark predatory gaze that promised to fulfill all of Lena’s long forgotten teenage fantasies.

Lena was so fixated on the sight of her first crush looking like she was about to devour her right there in the DEO command centre that she didn’t see the heavy frown form on Kara’s face, nor the way blue eyes flickered red for a flash.

The sound of a rumbling growl was the only thing that broke through Lena���s stupor and pre-empted a red-blue blur sweeping Andrea out of the room, presumably to deposit her in the same place as Brainy and Nia.

“Was that your stomach?” Lena asked when Kara reappeared a few moments later.

“Was what my stomach?”

“That growling noise?” Lena inquired with a tilt of her head.

“Uhhhh….” Kara’s mouth opened and closed, the tips of her ears turning red before she nodded her head in jerky agreement. “Yep, stomach, super hungry, no breakfast.”

“You must be, you’re dropping verbs.” Lena joked.

“Uh huh.” Kara muttered, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot as she intermittently shot discouraging glares to any agents that looked like they were even considering coming up to Lena. “Do you have any idea what’s causing this?” Kara questioned, placing her hands on her hips and trying to ease into her Supergirl persona.

“No.” Lena answered honestly.

“Were you exposed to anything? Or working with anything that might have caused something like this?” There was no accusation within the questions, just genuine curiosity and a desire to work through the possible causes. Lena didn’t doubt Kara’s trust in her, not after everything they had been through.

“No.” Lena replied after thinking carefully.

“You were here yesterday and everyone was fine.” Kara rationalised, “So it must have happened since you left.”

“Kara, I didn’t do anything after I left. I went home, watched a documentary, had a bath and went to bed as I promised you.”

Lena’s work hours since re-taking L-Corp as her own had exploded and her rare free time was regularly being utilised to support the Superfriends. Lena had spent yesterday tweaking Kara’s supersuit to improve its diagnostic capabilities to provide Kara an edge when flying into an unknown situation. It had taken Kara forcibly frog marching her out of the building and using her puppy dog eyes to get Lena to promise that she would finally go home and relax.

“Good girl.” Kara said, softening immediately at Lena’s answer, blue eyes twinkling with pride.

Lena internally screamed at herself to keep her praise kink under tight control.

“Then maybe something happened overnight? Or whilst you were on your way in?” Kara continued to theorise allowing Lena much needed time to regain her cool.

“Unlikely,” Lena replied thoughtfully, “I stopped for coffee on my way in and no one there acted oddly. It wasn’t until I got to the DEO that things changed.”

“Then-”

“SOMETHING WEIRD IS GOING ON!” Alex announced as she strode in, practically snarling at the agents that were working at their consoles, all of whom had looked a second away from getting to their feet and rushing eagerly towards the older Danvers as soon as she appeared.

Kara, meanwhile, instantly moved to be slightly in front of Lena like a personal shield ready to jump forward but careful not to overstep and diminish the CEO’s autonomy - Lena couldn’t help how her heart fluttered at Kara’s mindful concern.

“Are you in love with Lena too?” Kara challenged, narrowing her gaze at her sister.

Alex came to a sharp and sudden stop, jaw dropping open as she looked between Kara and Lena, “Too?” Alex echoed, and Lena watched in confusion as a slow and incredibly bright grin appeared to light up the Director’s face. “Did you finally-”

“BrianyandNiaareinlovewithLena!” Kara yelled, panicked and fast paced, hands flapping wildly at her sides.

The smile vanished alongside whatever Alex had been about to say. “I’m sorry, did you say Brainy and Nia are in love with Lena?”

“Yep.” Kara popped as she let out an unusually large sigh of relief that made Lena think she may have missed something important in the sister’s aborted interaction. “As well as nearly all the DEO agents, but no one from the coffee shop so we think it's localised to here which is weird because we can’t seem to find a potential cause that would explain that.” Kara rambled, clearly intent on brushing over whatever had just happened. “Therefore I asked if you were in love with Lena like Briany, Nia and Andrea.” Kara explained placing unnecessary emphasis on their friends' names.

Alex glanced from Kara to Lena, frowning heavily, “Sorry Lena but I’m quite happily taken.”

“Shame.” Lena tsked, earning her an affectionate eye roll from the redhead, before being struck by a sudden realisation. “Wait, then why were you coming in yelling that something weird is going on if you didn’t know about me?”

Alex shot a look over her shoulder before moving closer to the other two and dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “People are being… ‘overly friendly’ to me.”

Kara and Lena shared a look.

“Hey!” Alex snapped, bringing guilty green and blue eyes back to her. “I’m being serious here!”

“So by ‘overly friendly’ you mean…” Lena prompted.

“People keep trying to hug me and ask me how my day is going. And they keep… complimenting me.” Alex whispered like she was sharing some heinous crimes.

Both Kara and Lena’s eye muscles twitched with the desire to share another look but they managed to resist - just.

“It’s weird.” Alex defended haughtily. “Yesterday, they were too scared to look me in the eye for longer than a second and now they can’t go ten seconds without giving me a motivational speech about how good a job I’m doing.”

“It could be worse.” Lena said trying to be comforting,

“How?” Alex huffed.

“Well, Pam from HR told me she wanted to bear my children.” Lena said with a shrug that was immediately followed by a loud CRUNCHING noise.

Lena turned to find the source of the ear-splitting sound only to discover that the round titanium table Kara had been leaning against was now heavily crumpled around two tightly clenched kryptonian fists.

“Kara?” Lena squeaked whilst Alex merely face-palmed.

***

“It doesn’t make sense.” Lena mused, unknowingly posed like ‘The Thinking Man’ on the stool as Alex and Kara paced the space.

They had made the wise decision to move to what was considered Lena’s lab at the DEO to free themselves of the foot traffic of the command centre that had both Danvers sisters glowering at any agents that dared to approach (though for vastly different reasons).

“What are you thinking Luthor?” Alex asked, plopping herself down heavily on the stool by the CEO.

“Disparate pieces that don’t logically fit together.” Lena murmured quietly more to herself than to the other two before she lifted her head and tried to slowly talk through what her mind was attempting to process. “Whatever happened, clearly happened in the last,” Lena glanced at her watch, grimacing at the time as her head pounded with lack of sleep, “eight hours. I left here at six yesterday and no one was acting any differently to normal. Whatever has happened changes people’s behaviour towards us.” Lena gestured between herself and Alex, “but only us. And whatever is doing it is localised to the DEO.”

Lena paused, giving the sisters a chance to disagree with her assertion of facts, both Danvers nodded in agreement and encouragement to continue.

“Therefore, we have two options:” Lena continued, laying out the two theories she was working with, “either something happened at the DEO that is causing this and we are merely triggers for it. Or something happened specifically to us and being here is triggering it.”

Alex pursed her lips, thinking carefully through Lena’s logic, “Which do you think is more likely?”

“Something happening at the DEO.” Lena answered with a shrug, “One target, one location, rather than two is more straightforward.”

“Agreed.” Alex sighed, “And we know something did happen after we both left last night.”

“The attempted break in.” Lena concurred.

Alex nodded, shifting to face the kryptonian who had been listening intently to the conversation, “Kara, give us a rundown of what happened.”

Kara frowned, hands moving to rest on her hips in classic Supergirl pose, “It was just dumb thugs looking to make a quick buck. They’d stumbled upon some alien tech that they knew fetched a good price on the black market. Rather than sell it quickly and get away with it, they got greedy. They knew more tech was held here and figured they could double their profits if they used the tech they already had to pull off a heist.”

“I want it noted that the DEO is the worst kept secret in this city,” Lena snarked, with a roll of her eyes, “and that’s saying something considering Supergirl's disguise is a pair of glasses.”

“Noted,” Alex grunted, shooting the youngest Luthor a smug smirk, “which is why making it your job to fix that for us.”

Lena chuckled darkly, “You couldn’t afford my consultation fees.”

Alex’s smugness increased tenfold at that, her chin lifting defiantly as she laid down her ace, “That’s why I’m making Kara be the one to ask you.”

Lena gasped, utterly outraged, “You underhanded-“

“Guys, focus!” Kara bellowed, clapping her hands loudly together to break the two of them out of their regular snarky banter that could go on for a good hour if not interrupted quickly (it was how they showed their affection for one another).

“Right.”

“Sorry.”

Alex and Lena murmured apologetically, gazes dropping to the floor as Kara shook her head in amusement at their familiar antics.

“What tech did they use?” Alex questioned, bringing them back on track.

“Stupid gas.”

Lena’s brow furrowed at the response and Alex’s aggrieved grunt that followed it, “I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s a bio weapon that makes-“

“People stupid?” Lena guessed.

“Hyper emotional, but… yeah.” Alex clarified, “Like when I was exposed to it, I just laughed for like an hour straight.”

Lena hummed thoughtfully, brain whirring away to make connections with this new information, “Are kryptonians immune?”

“No.” Alex laughed, earning her a pout from the Super that made Lena take a mental note to beg Kara for the obvious story behind it another time.

“Then why isn’t Kara affected by all of this?” Lena questioned, throwing in the other variable they hadn’t considered.

“Now that you mention it, the stupid gas didn’t work on me last night.”

Alex’s face scrunched up in confusion, “It did last time.”

Kara shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, “I think Lena’s upgraded suit protected me.”

“My upgraded…” Lena began slowly, her eyes suddenly going wide as she recognised the suit Kara was currently wearing to be the one she had been tinkering with all day yesterday, “Kara, I told you not to wear that yet. I hadn’t finished tweaking it!”

Kara winced at the sharp tone, hands flying up in supplication and surrender, as she whined defensively, “It worked perfectly Lena.”

“That’s not the point-“ Lena rebuked, crossing her arms aggressively causing the superpowered alien to shrink under her green-eyed glare.

“Kara’s not affected...” Alex murmured, though her voice was quiet there was something sharp to her tone that cut through the room - it was the tone that preceded a ‘Eureka’.

“Alex?” Kara and Lena both prompted.

“I have an idea.” Alex announced jumping to her feet, and snatching up her jacket, “I need to test something out.”

“Okay, what are you thinking?” Kara called out as Alex rushed out of the lab.

“I’m thinking that I’m grateful I memorised the number of that twenty four hour Chinese takeaway.”

***

Lena and Alex stood back and watched in complete horror as the DEO agents ravaged the table loaded up with potstickers, stuffing their mouths with ten at a time and throwing punches over the last handfuls. They had to forcibly pull Kara away from the scene who twitched with the obvious desire to throw herself into the mix to get a share for herself.

“I don’t understand.” Kara wailed, stamping her foot pathetically, once they had returned to the lab.

“Oh my god.” Lena muttered, snatching up the tablet she had been using yesterday and scrolling through everything she had done to Kara’s suit, leaving the explanation task to the older Danvers.

“They’re feeling what you feel.” Alex announced, “Lena and I aren’t the catalyst. You are.”

Kara’s crinkle appeared and deepened.

“It’s why everyone has been so friendly to Alex.” Lena mumbled, taking over the explanation absentmindedly as she distractedly ran through data, looking between the suit upgrades and the specification of ‘Stupid Gas’. “They feel your sisterly love for her and are treating her like you would but to an extreme degree. It must be because of their exposure to the gas mixed with some upgrade I put into your suit.” Lena frowned, mind running a mile a minute, “I fitted in further diagnostic capabilities that might be able to identify biological toxins and alert you, but-“ Lena froze, head snapping upwards to stare dumbly at her best friend, her entire brain grinding to a dead halt.

“Lena?” Kara inquired, blue eyes instantly glowing with concern at Lena’s absolute stillness and dead-eyed stare.

Alex nudged Kara’s side and whispered helpfully, “I think she’s just realised.”

“Realised what?”

Alex directed a soft and understanding smile at her sister, “How people have been acting towards her and what that means…”

“Oh…” Kara squeaked, paling considerably and breath held tight as she waited for Lena to finally react.

“You want to bear my children?!” Lena yelled incredulously, shattering the awkward silence with that explosive revelation.

Kara’s entire body flushed crimson, as she spluttered out (unable to stop herself), “Ummm… I mean… Preferably after a few dates…”

“Annnnnnd that’s my cue…” Alex announced, turning on her heel sharply and marching out of the room.

Lena blinked repeatedly, still not fully rebooted from this turn of events and everything it could potential - hopefully - entail.

“Lena… I…” Kara began, voice thick with emotion as she took timid, shaky steps towards her best friend, “I don’t know what to say…”

“You love me?” Lena asked, the bluntness of the question softened by the tremble to her voice that highlighted the vulnerability and hope of the question.

It was the hopefulness in Lena’s voice and the way green eyes were dark with poorly hidden want that gave Kara the courage to lift her chin, puff out her chest and declare sincerely, “More than anything.”

Lena let out a shaky breath, throwing her tablet down on the bench and demanding sternly, “Take off the suit.”

“Really?” Kara’s eyes bulged at the request, the flush from earlier deepening to a boiled crimson, “I mean I’m not saying no but I was kind of hoping we could go out on a date first. Maybe? If you’re interested?”

“Kara,” Lena said stepping forward into Kara’s personal space which effectively stopped Kara’s ramble, “you’re still wearing the upgraded suit which is feedbacking to everyone in the DEO your emotions. If you take it off everyone goes back to normal.”

“Oh,” Kara breathed, shaking her head with embarrassment, “I thought-“

Lena reached out, threading her fingers through Kara’s golden hair affectionately before seeking out the nape of her neck to gently tug Kara down the couple of inches between them so that she could press their lips hotly together. Kara’s hands instantly sought out Lena’s hips even as her mouth slipped open granting access to Lena’s insistent tongue.

Lena’s free hand traced the emblem on the supersuit whilst she teased her nails against Kara’s neck earning her an appreciative groan that served as the only warning before Kara effortlessly hoisted Lena up onto the lab bench pressing eagerly forward into the space between Lena’s legs.

Lena nipped at Kara’s bottom lip before breaking away, panting heavily to regain her breath. Kara, meanwhile, didn’t even hesitate to track kisses down Lena’s jaw and neck, sucking at her pulse-point until Lena’s legs wrapped tightly around Kara’s body desperately trying to earn some relief.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Lena gasped.

“Oh, I do.” Kara murmured earnestly, leaning back to fully appreciate how wrecked Lena looked.

Lena lightly shoved Kara back with a playful laugh, fingers tapping against the edges of Kara’s supersuit emblem as she quirked a mischievous eyebrow. “The sooner you take this off, the sooner the problem is fixed and we can go on that date.”

Kara’s entire expression lit up at that and in flash she had disappeared only to return less than a second later dressed in the DEO sweatsuit that Lena adored.

“Shall we?” Kara checked, bouncing up and down so excitedly that Lena couldn’t resist pulling her back in for another deep kiss.

[americxn]

Colin dating single parent reader

request: I have a hc request! :) colin meeting then dating a single mom! reader? i just got this idea & i thought its cute & i love how you write colin :)

thank you so much for requesting, this idea is so cute <3

wordcount: 1.3k warnings: food mention and babies, not really a warning but they can be loud and gross so

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @liandav @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @tatelangdonsupremecist @ikkleroniekins​ @ananad1​ @shlutnutt​ @sanni333​ @mossybank​ @tatesimper​ (dm to be added or removed <3)

When you first met Colin, your baby was eight months old and almost impossible to catch a break around. You were the most exhausted that you had ever been, days and nights blurring into one never ending cycle of broken sleep and frustration; not that it wasn’t worth it, you would endure fifty years of this hell if you meant that your baby was happy and healthy.

Your longtime friend had offered to take you out for lunch as an offer of brief reprieve, seeing how hard you were finding it all recently, especially now that your baby had figured out crawling and developed an insatiable appetite for inedible objects. 

For the fifth time in the past minute, you pushed your partly drained mug of coffee out of the growing reach of your baby’s searching fingers, sighing deeply when they squawked in mounting annoyance in your lap, squirming to free themselves from the arm you had slung around their chubby waist. Your friend smiled as you located a chunk of cucumber from the untouched salad huddled in the corner of your plate, bringing it before your baby’s searching grasp and watching as they took it and immediately brought it to their lips. 

Resuming conversation and now able to eat your own food with the baby occupied, your friend nodded to the side in a subtle gesture with a smirk. “What?” You asked, following the flick of their eyes to the side and looking to where they had gestured. The man sat two tables down from you quickly averted the gaze he had pinned of you, his throat working as he swallowed awkwardly, taking the cup of coffee before him in his hand and bringing it to his lips. He sat alone, a laptop open before him and based on the smart attire he was donned in, you assumed that he had come here to work.

“He’s cute.” You friend stated, wiggling her eyebrows. Forcing your gaze away, you cleared your throat, taking another bite of food whilst nodding in agreement. “Was he looking?” You asked quietly, unsure if he would be able to hear you talking about him from the close distance. They nodded in answer, taking another drink of their coffee with a poorly suppressed smile. You caught Colin glancing not-so-subtly in your direction several more times in the span of an hour, his eyes constantly flicking to watch in intrigue as you interacted with your baby, unable to prevent himself from smiling softly with each giggle you coaxed from the tiny human.

It wasn’t long before he stood from his seat, donning his coat and tucking his laptop under his arm before turning for the exit. Your table happened to be positioned in the path of the door he was aiming for and so on his way past, after spending the past hour hyping himself up, he placed his receipt on the table beside you, offering you a pleasant smile as he continued walking past. Your baby had instantly reached for it but your own hand had intercepted, taking it between your fingers and smiling as you beheld the neatly scrawled phone number he had written out for you on the bottom of the thin paper.

You and Colin began talking instantly, meeting at the same coffee shop mere days later. He took an instant liking to your baby, who in turn developed an infatuation with Colin, smiling widely at him whenever his dark gaze met their own shyly curious one.

Dating followed shortly after and Colin began to spend more time at your apartment than he did at his own house, much to the delight of his mother who had completely melted upon first meeting the two of you, watching on in tearful awe at Colin’s effortlessly perfect interactions with your baby. 

You had been forced to take extended maternity leave after struggling to find someone to take care of the baby during the day, but now with Colin’s mom at home all day and practically begging to take them when you went back to work, everything seemed to fall into place. 

With the return of a steady income, several months later, you and Colin were able put together the funds to buy a house of your own, about a ten minute drive from his mom’s place. Moving in together definitely strengthened your already committed relationship with Colin proving to be a perfectly capable caregiver of your baby.

Colin worked longer days than you but always took the time to provide the two of you with unending love and attention upon returning home, insisting that he was the one to put the baby to sleep after eating together in order for you to have some time alone before he spent the rest of the evening with you.

At night, Colin always tended to the baby to allow you to get more sleep, not caring if he had an eight hour shift starting at 7am the next morning.

The shrill cries of your baby tore through the house, pulling you almost immediately from sleep. With a quiet groan, you moved to push the warm covers from you body. Colin’s hand fell onto your waist, forcing your movements to pause as he too shifted, sitting up in the dark and rubbing your side. “It’s okay. I got this.” His voice was thick was sleep and you couldn’t bring yourself to disagree as your eyes lids grew too heavy to hold open, Colin’s lips warm on your skin as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your brow before slipping from the bed and padding on bare feet out of the room. 

When your baby’s first birthday came around, Colin spent weeks planning it, using all of his free time and work breaks to research ideas and order various decorations and organise venues. You told him to not spend too much but he had just laughed, grinning broadly whilst claiming that "you can’t stop me.” 

He had spared no expense and when the day came, you found yourself reduced to tears with each surprise he revealed, unable to fathom how you had managed to land a man who loved your baby just as much as he loved you; christmas was the same, along with every one of you baby’s birthdays following the first, only getting more and more elaborate as the years went on.

Of course your baby played a vital role in your engagement, Colin having tucked the small velvet box away in their tiny coat pocket and sent them teetering your way:

You paused mid-step on the wide footpath you were meandering down, turning as you heard a quick set of small, uneven footfalls following after you and offering a hand to your baby, grinning in pride as they managed to make their way to you without toppling over. Colin watched a few feet behind, your smile mirrored on his face as he watched the scene unfold before him, sick with nerves. Their little hand delved into their pocket as they reached you, uttering a small noise as they extended their arm up into the air, holding the crimson box out to you.

“What’s this?” You mused, taking the box and flicking it open. The ring residing within was breathtaking and the box almost fell from your grasp when you realised what it was, your head snapping to Colin who watched on in adoration, his eyes wide as he watched your reaction. You had closed the distance between you and threw yourself into his arms in a matter of seconds, tears of joy blurring your vision. Behind you, your baby lost their balance, toppling to the gravel of the path and twisting to watch the passionate embrace, clapping their hands softly despite not understanding what was actually happening.

((divider credits: @kawaii-lau​ ))

[saturnsummer]

sweet love

They say drunk words are your sober thoughts. Joon Hwi clearly had too many thoughts.

prompted by an anon from this question here! thanks anon!!

notes: hello! back with another fic, this time when joonhwi gets too drunk and spills more than he expects. stay till the end though, i added a little bonus as usual. editing, grammar and other mistakes will be taken responsible by me! thank you all for your love and support as always! i’ll see you for more next time!

original prompt: I love your fic 🥰 this is so far from canon but a drunk joonhwi being clingy towards sol a is one of my dream scenarios 😚 or the squad catching solhwi being clingy with each other because they were hiding their relationship

words: 3414 words

Joon Hwi was beyond excited everyday when he woke up for school. No, he wasn't excited to get the top grade, neither was he excited to get his essays and reports done. Though he loves the law, he’s sane enough to not love it that much.

Of course, he’s just excited about meeting his girlfriend, Kang Sol.

He never knew how they got together. It was a natural thing, after all. After the whole fiasco with Assemblyman Ko, their relationship suddenly felt a lot closer. They were close to begin with, with their daily studying and lunches and dinners. But something was different after the middle of their second year.

It started out as dinners every night, with or without the study group. Then Sol would be in study group sessions wearing his sweater or hoodies. When Yeseul or Yebeom teased, Sol would always argue to say that it was cold in their copy room and Joon Hwi was just being nice. Joon Hwi would just pretend that ‘sharing sweaters were normal’.

Then one day, as Joon Hwi sent Sol back home to take care of Byeol, they sat side by side in silence. Sol was desperately in need of catching up on her sleep, so the forty minute bus ride served as a quick nap for her. She turned her head to lean on Joon Hwi’s shoulder, resting her head there for her nap. To make things more comfortable, he placed his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

When they were nearing their stop, Joon Hwi instinctively shook a sleepy Sol up and held her hand as he dragged her out so she wouldn’t miss the stop. Sol doesn’t let go, and neither does Joon Hwi. Only when they reach the start of the alley do they let go of their hands. (Sol insists it’s because she doesn’t want Byeol to know. Joon Hwi thinks it’s because she’s shy.)

When Joon Hwi is at her front door with Sol, they shyly look at each other, the feelings mutual and conveyed with just their eyes. Of course, they are soulmates. They don't need the words to deliver their entire hearts or feelings.

It was always made known from the start to Joon Hwi that Sol was special to him. He has never met someone so persistent, so passionate and so damm beautiful. He had a couple of flings, being the popular smart boy in school, but none of the girls made his heart beat the same way Sol did. None of them made his world stop.

It has been a year since. And things weren’t easy when you tried to hide it. Sol, a student on a scholarship, had better luck being chosen to attend this school than the number of times the couple almost got caught.

In school, they acted normally as classmates and friends. Their study group sensed something different, but they would just deny and pretend. They put on a pretty good act, if they were to say so themselves, having Bokgi convinced that they needed to find Sol a blind date. (Joon Hwi would have spat his water at him like how Professor Yang did at Prosecutor Jin, but he held it in. Five months of hiding couldn’t be wasted now.)

They wanted to tell their friends, they really did. But they wanted to do it after their bar exams. After the weight of the bar has been lifted off will they share their good news. But while hiding a relationship is hard, making time for one was harder. (Arguably, Joon Hwi finds this harder than any exam he took.)

They absolutely found every minute they could to be together. Every hidden staircase was a spot they tried to spend a few minutes to themselves, but even that was difficult. Joon Hwi would remember how Sol would lead him to a hidden staircase far from their hideout, so as to not get walked in by either the professors or their friends. Even in the midst of Joon Hwi pressing Sol against the wall, as they devoured each other’s lips after a whole day of being unable to kiss, they would be interrupted by the sudden doors of the staircase upstairs opening, causing them to fly apart and run out.

The gossip the school carried was insane, and the last thing they wanted was gossip to reach their friends.

They could spend longer moments in the study room in the middle of the nights where they would be alone, as they worked on their cases and work. Occasionally, they shared bunggeoppangs and hotteoks, where they had long kisses tasting of sweet red bean and honey. But too many times Sol found herself shifting from her seat next to Joon Hwi to climbing on top of his lap in a make-out session, as Joon Hwi reached up to remove the highlighter holding her hair. Just as they wanted more, a sudden noise would bring them to attention and frantically, Sol would fall back onto her chair, both of their faces flushed red.

It was just four more months till the graduation ceremony came.

Till the world knows Sol was Joon Hwi’s.

-----

The bar exam went smoothly, as everyone received their results of passing. As a celebration, the boys decided to drink and have a meal apart from their usual delivery. No, it was time for the real deal of barbecues, meat and stews. They decided to even give a call to Seungjae, who graciously accepted their offer despite being so busy with his new son in his life. The study group has met his kid a couple of times, and even babysat a few hours together.

The boys met at a relatively near barbecue place in the heart of Dongdaemun, a location that the boys could easily return back to the dorms and not too far away. They were at an all-you-could-eat place, suitable for their budget so that they didn’t burn a hole in their pockets. Seungjae offered to treat his dongsaengs. After all, passing the bar was no easy feat. But they declined. His presence with them was enough of a gift from him to them.

But what was a dinner without the star, soju?

Joon Hwi prided himself on holding his liquor well. He could easily have a bottle without feeling the buzz. He could have a second without difficulty as well. Surely, he won’t be drunk, right?

Oh, but how wrong he was.

The bottles of soju and beers kept coming, never ending, as BokGi and Yebeom pushed shot after shot to him and themselves. They were surely prepared to get hammered tomorrow and show up to their 10am lecture spinning. Seungjae, having driven, only watched and smiled as he looked at his dongsaengs drink, sipping on his cola.

“Hyung, you sure you don’t have anything on with Sol-A noona? You know, we catch you with her all the time.” Bokgi asks, his face slightly flushed and words a little slurred. Yebeom nods his head, nodding his head in agreement. Joon Hwi only lets himself smile, not saying anything as he shoots back an additional shot of soju.

“Wah, hyung! So you admit it?” Yebeom says, setting down his chopsticks. Jiho stops chewing on his ssam, and looks next to him at Joon Hwi, who just shrugs, a mysterious smile on his face. Seungjae only places more meat on Joon Hwi’s plate.

With a short glance, Yebeom, Jiho and Bokgi’s eyes met. It was long enough for them to get what they were trying to say, but yet short enough for Joon Hwi to not notice the silence.

They weren’t blind to Joon Hwi’s actions. They noticed how Joon Hwi would look at Sol when she’s practicing for a mock trial, and his gentle voice when he would point out things she missed. Jiho, for one, noticed how Joon Hwi would return to the dorm later or look at his phone, smiling like an idiot. When asked, Joon Hwi would either use the excuse that he went out to the city or he was looking at cat videos, which bore Jiho.

But tonight, they were not leaving this place until he spilled his secret.

“Excuse me! Can we get three more portions of samgyeopsal, one more moksal, one dwangjang jjigae, and three more bottles of soju please?” Bokgi politely shouted to the store helper, who readily nodded.

“One more rice, please!” Yebeom added.

And so, with every portion of food, they shot back shot after shot as they feasted on their fresh juicy grilled pork and stew. They were glad that Joon Hwi was slowly slurring his words, because they themselves were barely hanging on.

“Hyung, you can be honest, you know. We won’t say anything about your private life with noona.” Yebeom says, fighting off the buzz and taking a big gulp of water. Joon Hwi, now face flushed bright red, only let out another smile as he laid back on his chair.

“Ah, Sol...” He murmured out loud.

“You know, she’s really touchy when she’s drunk? She likes to cling on to people when she’s drunk. When she’s angry, she pushes people away instead.” The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop himself. No, this wasn’t Joon Hwi. This was drunk Joon Hwi. The other three immediately perked up hearing this.

“A-Ah, really? How do you know that?” Yebeom prompted, determined to draw out more information.

“Remember the time we were late to Dean Oh’s lecture? We drank that night with Yeseul and Bokgi. She couldn’t stop clinging onto my hoodie after both of them went back. And the other time when she pushed me away after her first year results were out.” Joon Hwi says, the stupid smile still on his face.

“How cute.” He quietly says, eyes closed.

There wasn't a need to know further that their hyung, Han Joon Hwi, had feelings for Kang Sol, the feisty noona.

“Hyung, then why not date her?” Bokgi says, the news keeping him at the end of his seat. Jiho merely sits, ears wide open and ready for any information.

“Date?” Joon Hwi says and lets out a light unmistakable giggle. Oh, he really was drunk now.

“We already are.”

The trio exchange knowing eyes, knowing how their objectives for the night have been accomplished. Seungjae, from the end of the table, merely shakes his head with a smile.

“Hyung, did you know?” Jiho asks. Seungjae nodded.

“They told me. After all, I am no longer a student.” This earned groans from the trio, calling it unfair.

“I miss Sol...” Joon Hwi murmurs, as his drunken state reaches for another shot of soju. Instinctively, Jiho reaches it first and shoves a glass of water in his hand instead. If anything, he was sleeping with this man in the same room. And he was not having his drunken state continue further. After all, they completed their mission for the night.

All that mattered was remembering it the next day.

-----

Sol was in the midst of folding her clothes before her phone rang, distracting her from her music that she had on with her ear pieces. Irritated, she picked up her phone, not bothering to look at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Sol-A? It’s oppa.”

“Seungjae-oppa? Why are you calling so late? Is anything the matter?” She asks, alerted by the sudden call. It was almost midnight, and it was rare for Seungjae to call.

“Ah, no. Nothing is wrong. I’m just at the lobby of the school at the Lady Justice statue with a very drunk Joon Hwi and the rest of the boys. I can’t bring them up myself, especially since I can’t enter the dorms anymore.” Seungjae explains. In the back, Sol can hear a noisy Bokgi and Jiho telling him to shut up.

“Give me five minutes.” She says and hangs up. The urgency in Sol’s voice drew the attention of Sol B, who was ready to get to bed. Sol B only looks at Sol for a moment and Sol just gives a sympathetic smile.

“Could... Could you come with me?” Sol asks nervously. Sol B looks at Sol for a moment before she throws a hoodie on and throws another hoodie to Sol. The last thing they needed was them to be recognised. Seungjae was where he said he would be, with indeed, four grown men, sprawled on the couches. Bokgi, Yebeom and Jiho were at least conscious enough to greet both Sols, but Joon Hwi just had his eyes shut, murmuring incorrigible things.

“Sorry you had to deal with them, oppa. They really owe you a big apology.” Sol apologises for the sake of her boyfriend, and his friends. Seungjae only shakes his head.

“They should enjoy this before they step into the workforce and can’t experience it anymore.” He gives a smile. “Joon Hwi got a little carried away. He might have spilled your relationship.” Sol B was not standing far as she forced Bokgi and the rest upright, but she could clearly hear it.

“I’ll settle it. You should go home now, don’t keep Juyoung-unnie waiting. I’ll get them to their rooms.” She said before making her quick goodbye to Seungjae.

Together, both Sols pushed Bokgi and Yebeom up to their room, half guiding and half carrying the heavy boys to their door. When they were back downstairs, Sol B instinctively grabbed Jiho by his arm and pulled him up.

“Sol B, about what-” Sol was cut off by her roommate.

“I know. Don’t tell anyone yet. But, you know you suck at hiding and lying, don't you?” She says, her head turned back, before turning back to help Jiho back to his room. Sol does all she can to suppress her smile. Even though her roommate is harsh, she could feel the love. Turning around, she faces her drunk boyfriend.

“Joon. Joon Hwi.” Sol shakes gently. Joon Hwi’s lips curl up slightly, as his arms reach up to wrap them around the familiar body he missed. Sol was clingy when she was drunk, but it was the pot calling the kettle black for Joon Hwi. If possible, he was even clingier.

“You need to go up to your room.” She says as she fights away his loose grip and half supports his drunk body to his room.

“I missed you, Sol...” He murmurs, a face turning into a pout. “You know I kept telling them how good a girlfriend you are? How you always got me coffees and made extra ramyeons.”

“And you also told them we are dating?”

“Of course! I want the whole world to know I love you!” Joon Hwi says a little loudly, and she clamps his mouth shut. Oh, he was definitely more than drunk. Joon Hwi’s arms clung onto her waist as she reached his door.

“Go. You can face the mess you made in the morning.” She says. Joon Hwi clings onto her, giving her a sad pout.

“No more goodnight kisses?” He asked, a voice like a child. His eyes were big and round, his mouth downturned slightly like a pout.

Sol couldn’t deny him one, especially when he looked so adorable. Looking around, she made sure the coast was clear before she reached up to let her lips meet his soft ones. He tasted like lingering alcohol and she could taste it, but she couldn’t help but want more of his intoxicating lips on hers. But not today.

Pulling away, he let out a slight whine. But Sol gave him a quick peck.

“You’ll get more, when you get up.” And Sol pushes him into the room, leaving back to her own dorm, knowing that she’ll be faced with a big headache the next morning.

-----

When Joon Hwi is up the next morning, he’s greeted with a Jiho who rubs his eyes and holds his head in his hand. Joon Hwi isn’t sure if he’s spinning or the room is. Or if it is spinning in the first place. Jiho notices he’s up and grunts a good morning, before getting up to get ready.

The memories of last night come back to Joon Hwi in waves as the pieces start slowly fixing themselves together throughout the morning. By the time he’s at his first lecture, his memories have more or less come back.

He’s certain that Sol would be mad. He makes a mental note to send Seungjae an apology and thank you message. Then, he starts making plans to bribe the trio. He knows about Yebeom’s love for candy, so he starts with that. He just needs to think of what brand of sneakers to get for Bokgi. Heck, would bribes even work against them?

But throughout the morning, the boys do nothing to mention anything about last night. They chat about their hangover, how Seungjae is doing well with his new job and the amount of food they ate. No one mentions anything about Joon Hwi, or his words.

Joon Hwi counts himself safe. They must have forgotten, he thinks. He figures it was the best they did. It definitely would save him an earful from Sol and a large headache. During lunch, as they finished their simple meal at the cafeteria of soup, rice and bulgogi, Bokgi is about to clear his tray before he turns to Joon Hwi.

“Oh, hyung.”

“Hm?”

“We remember everything. From the start, to the end.” He says, a teasing grin on his face as he quickly scurries away, not wanting to die before he graduates. Joon Hwi rolls his eyes back and groans.

Well, shit.

-----

bonus:

“Sol B, did you know our roommates are dating?” Jiho asks, his voice slightly slurred as Sol B drags him up the stairs. She gives a nod. Sol B was no idiot to fall for her roommate’s excuses, when her face gave it all away. It was fascinating how the others haven’t noticed. 

“It would be an insult to our careers if we didn't notice the way they looked at their phones.” She sarcastically says. Jiho manages to scoff. Sol B is about to tap Jiho’s key card of their door, but his hand stops hers, as she feels his body right behind his. 

“Well, they haven’t found out about us yet.” Jiho says softly to her, his face nuzzled into her neck, lips brushing her neck as he slowly moves his lips up to her jaw. Sol brings a gentle hand to his cheek, before turning around to face Jiho.

“We’re better actors.” She whispers so soft. Jiho can't tell if it’s the alcohol or him, but all he knows is that Sol B looks so damm perfect with her doe-like eyes, soft pink lips and the way she teases him drives him insane. He wants her, and he wants her now. 

He crashes his lips on hers, wanting to so desperately taste her. It’s been a long day, and he’s never felt so in need. Sol B tastes the lingering alcohol on his lips, but she couldn’t care. She needs him the same way he wants her. Her hands reach up to grab his hair as Jiho’s hands slip under her hoodie, feeling the smooth skin of her waist against his fingers. They know that they are in the middle of the hallway, but, god, it felt so good.

“God, I missed this.” Jiho mumbled, almost growling, against her lips, earning a slight smirk from the younger girl that he could feel. He sucks on her lower lip, earning a soft gasp from the girl as she only kisses him harder. Biting lovingly on her swollen lips, he shifts his attention to her jaw, leaving butterfly kisses and earning a sigh of pleasure from her. 

But it was short lived, as she pulled away. They knew they had to stop, before their secret was revealed, too. Jiho wishes he could bring her into the dorm and continue this session with her. Sol B looks at him lovingly, biting her lip in an attempt to tease. 

“We’ll continue this tomorrow.” Sol B says, giving him another loving kiss as she leaves for her room and Jiho returns to his, buzzed from the alcohol and the adrenaline rush from his make out session. He inwardly groans, hating how his girlfriend teases him, but also smirks, knowing how to get back at her the next day.

Let’s hope he remembers this.

[softrenjunnie]

4 am l ljy

pairing: gn!reader x fake boyfriend!juyeon

characters: juyeon, hyunjae

genre: angst?, fluff, fake dating!au

word count: 1.1k words

warnings: mentions of crying but that’s it i think

request: CONGRATS ON GRADUATING!! youve worked really hard and a bright future awaits you!!💕 I would like to requesr for a Juyeon fake dating with promt number 29 🌟 thank you ❤❤ - from anon

note: uhhhhh not sure how i feel about this... i had an idea kinda like this a while ago so i thought “lets put it into this request!!” but then failed. so idk, i might post something similar in a while when i figure it out. anywho, i hope you all have a good day and eat something delicious, you deserve it <3

you drank a few sips from your tea, letting the warmth of the drink spread across your body. you shifted your position a bit and pulled your legs in to your body, to try to fit all of your body underneath the soft blanket. you were currently sitting on the couch in juyeon and hyunjae’s shared apartment, a big cup of chamomile tea in your hands as you gaze out through the big window in front of you. the apartment was at the second to top floor, and the building was quite tall, so you had a nice view of the entire city. one could say that you were up very early, considering the fact that it was currently 4am, but you would say that it was late - since you had not yet fallen asleep.

you had gotten out of bed just a mere half hour ago, when you had finally admitted to yourself that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep without doing something. your mind was too crowded, and your thoughts too messy. so you once again found yourself sneaking out of juyeon’s bed and coming here to overlook the city just pre-sunrise.

you heard a sound behind you, and instantly turned your head to the direction where it had come from - right outside the door leading to juyeon’s bedroom. and there he stood, in his usual pyjama pants, rubbing his eyes while letting a yawn escape from his lips. “did i wake you up? i’m so sorry,” you say, voice low to not accidentally wake hyunjae. 

“it’s fine,” he answers, walking over to you and sitting down on the other side of the couch. “how are you feeling?”

you shrug, looking away from him and out through the window again. “not sure.”

“you’ve been crying again, haven’t you?”

your eyes dart back at him. you’re not wearing any makeup, so you know he couldn’t tell it from a messy mascara, and it’s been a while since you stopped crying now so your eyes are likely not red any longer. you don’t know how he does it, but he reads you so well. it’s like you’re an open book, even though everyone has always told you that you are the exact opposite. it’s like he understands every single thought you have, and many people would just blame it on the fact that you’ve been dating for so long now - except, you haven’t. you’ve been fake dating.

you and juyeon have been good friends for a couple of years now, having met when you first started college, and there had never been any romantic feelings between you two. not even the flirty kind of banter friends can have that makes their other friends sure they’re gonna get together; which is why all your friends were shocked to hear that you were dating all of the sudden.

juyeon’s best friend hyunjae had made fun of him once, telling him that he would never be able to have the same partner for over a year - so the boys made a bet. and you had for as long as you could remember been nagged on by your parents about never finding a partner. so you and juyeon came together, and made a deal; you would fake date each other for one year, so juyeon could win his bet, and so you could have someone to bring to family gatherings to please your parents.

you just hadn’t expected to fall for juyeon in the meantime, and you never thought you’d end up wishing those 12 months went by slower.

just a few months into the deal, you had started noticing the smaller things about juyeon. like how he acts towards his younger brother, how he treats his friends, how he takes care of you even though there’s nothing between you other than a deal. it made you grow fonder of him - and you started to like him for real.

you didn’t answer, and you didn’t need to - he already knew the answer. “is it me?”

you tilted your head, your eyebrows furrowed. “what?”

“am i the reason you cry at night? when you think i’m asleep?”

you sighed, taking a sip from your tea to calm your nerves. “i...” you pause. “i don’t know, i guess so.”

juyeon’s gaze was worried, and he pulled a hand through his hair. “please, talk to me. tell me how you feel.”

you were sure you wouldn’t get anything out of this situation if you told the truth. he’d only laugh at you, or feel bad for you, before leaving you once again. yet, something inside of you urged you to tell the truth. “i wish we didn’t have to end this next month.”

you were surprised at your own honesty, and seemingly so was juyeon. but he didn’t laugh, and he didn’t look like he felt bad for you. “neither do i.”

your jaw dropped in surprise and your eyes widened. “what?”

“are you really that oblivious?” you rolled your eyes at him, but there was a grin slowly creeping up over his lips. “i’ve been giving you hints for such a long time now.”

you paused for a moment, not sure what to say. “i- you’re not as easy to read as i apparently am!”

“okay, okay,” he laughed, moving a bit closer to you and cupping your cheek with one of his hands. “i like you. i don’t want our relationship to be fake anymore.” you closed your eyes, not daring to look at him. “was that clear enough?”

you nodded, your lips curving upwards into a smile. “yeah.”

he took you by surprise as he leaned forward, pressing his lips onto yours. you had kissed before, when trying to prove yourselves to be a real couple to other people, but this was different. this was a kiss shared between two people who liked each other, who also knew that the other liked them, and it felt so much better. when you pulled away, you were both grinning like idiots.

“you think you’ll be able to sleep now, then?” he asked, and you faked a gasp.

“oh, you only did this so that you could go back to sleep?” you mocked, still smiling. juyeon stuck out his tongue at you.

“yes. so can we, please?”

you nodded quickly, placing your cup of (now cold) tea on the coffee table, right before he took your hand in his and pulled you along to his bedroom again.

[julemmaes]

Payback

Rowaelin Month, Day Five

A/N: Yall I'm dying. I didn't even wanna write today and I kinda forced myself to and I'm not proud of myself for this but I just wanted you to have something so yep. Tomorrow's will be a lot angstier and sadder than this one, so soak up the very light fluff I'm giving you till you can

Signing off, goodnight yall

Word count: 3,614

Aelin hated the underground car park reserved for the residents of her building. It was dark, so narrow that you had to do at least a hundred swerves to avoid taking any corner and scratching off half your car, and it was impossible to find a spot when everyone came home in the evening after hours and hours in the office and parked as they saw fit while still thinking about the thousands of pieces of paperwork that would be waiting for them at their desks only nine hours later, sometimes taking up more than two spots at once.

The only reason she still tried to park down there was that there was a flock of pigeons in the trees just outside their block of flats, on the main road, which had made a nasty habit of shitting on anything - or anyone, on some unpleasant occasion - that stopped for more than five minutes under the thick branches. A perfect hiding place for birds, that no one had thought to warn her about when she had moved in only a few months earlier.

She had deemed herself lucky the night before, when she had returned before anyone else and found the lot completely empty. She'd been so happy that she'd driven around a bit down there just for the hell of it. She'd pulled up next to the exit, thinking it would be easier to get out the next morning.

She hadn't anticipated the three assholes who had parked so as to block her path in every conceivable way.

She grunted, banging her fist against the steering wheel when she realised she still wasn't clear, and put the car into reverse for the twelfth time, before changing gear and driving three inches forward. And so on, and on, and on, until she managed to steer the face of the car towards the exit and let out a satisfied howl.

She started up the slope towards the road, taking her eyes off the driveway and distracting herself for a moment to choose which radio to listen to, when the car hit something and the dull sound of the bang echoed throughout her body, propelling her forward.

Aelin squealed, hitting the brakes hard enough to cause a high-pitched squeal, and soon the smell of burnt plastic filled her nostrils.

The car shut off and she pulled the handbrake vehemently, getting out of the car and trying to figure out which wall she had hit, already cursing every deity that had ever existed. She didn't have enough money to afford a repair, and she knew perfectly well that the dent would be there for months before she let any of her friends help her.

She wrinkled her brow, noticing how no side of the car was touching walls or columns.

"What the..."

And then she heard it, a grunt of pain.

She opened her eyes wide, running around the car and finding a man on the ground.

To the view of a head full of stark white hair, the fear she’d just ran over one of the oldies that lived on her floor stuck her. But then the person got up on their elbows and she let go of a sigh of relief.

But still, she had just runapartment someone over. She hurried his way.

"Oh, fuck." said Aelin, approaching the stranger. The man pulled himself up to sit, bringing a hand to his face, on his cheek, where a cut was bleeding profusely on his shirt.

"Holy shit." muttered the guy, looking up at her, "That hurt."

Aelin was frozen in time, her hands to her gaping mouth, looking for the right words.

When he tried to stand, swaying a little, she pushed through the fog in her mind and truly looked at him, searching other injuries, but not failing to notice his sheer handsomeness.

The man looked like he’d been made in heaven.

She shook her head, mentally reprimanding herself – now was not the time – and started talking.

“I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t see you there and- oh god, you’re bleeding. You need me to rush you to the hospital? Fuck, you think you broke something?” the words just kept flowing and flowing. “Where were you even going? Why didn’t you just got out of the main entrance? This fucking parking lot. I swear we have to call the landlord and have him put some lights down here. Your shirt,” she grimaced, eyeing the blood standing out on the white fabric. Aelin looked him in the eye, “I have a very similar one upstairs? You want me to go fetch it for you, I could-”

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, putting his hands in between them, forcing her to step back, “Shut the fuck up!”

Aelin’s mouth closed shut and her eyebrows raised so high she felt her skin pull on her temples. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes popping out.

This man. Sure, she’d just ran him over, but no one had ever talked to her like that.

“I’m fine.” he grumbled, “And I live in this building, I’ll go take my own shirt, thank you.” He took a deep breath, brushing off his trousers and bending to gather his stuff that had scattered around during his fall. When he lifted his head again, he gave her a tight smile and his piercing green eyes stared at her with an intensity that had Aelin’s toes curling in her shoes.

“Have a nice day.”

He then proceeded to walk away, leaving Aelin alone in the darkish driveway.

She looked around, hoping to see someone who could confirm that it had just been a figment of her imagination, but there was no one.

Getting back in her car, Aelin started the engine and drove up to the street, chewing on her lips, “What the fuck just happened?”

***

Aelin had thought all day about the mysterious man. She hadn’t been able to focus during her meetings and hadn’t even finished one of her projects. Something that she sure as fuck knew her boss would make her notice and work her ass off to make up for once word got to him.

Her day had started off so bad she knew it couldn’t get any worse, but she’d been wrong.

Her assistant had spilled coffee over her only finished drawing and herself. One of her coworkers had decided today was the perfect day to quit her job and pile her projects on Aelin’s desk. Then she’d gone out for lunch with some of her friends and it had started raining so heavily she’d been forced to stay in the office, only eye-eating the mouth-watering dishes her friends had posted on their instagram stories. They’d made it to the diner just before the sky cracked open.

And, the cherry on top, someone had keyed her car.

She’d been on the verge of tears when she’d spotted the red stains of her neighbor’s blood on the parking lot floor when she got back home, but she didn’t let any fall.

She had a date.

And she wouldn’t let all these little things get to her and ruin what could possibly be the best night of her life.

One of her life-long best friends had set her up on a blind date with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She’d promised the man was the perfect match, someone Elide thought would keep her on her toes and match her overflowing personality.

Aelin had been hesitant at first when Elide hadn’t wanted to give her a name, or show her a picture, claiming she’d go all FBI style on him and ruin their first meeting, but she’d also promised Aelin she’d met the guy a few times and he’d been nothing but a gentleman.

And she had heard so much of him she felt like she’d known him her whole life.

Some of the things Elide had told her, she’d liked better if she’d found directly from him, but Aelin was a picky woman and she wasn’t risking another date with a creeper.

She pulled up in the restaurant’s parking lot where Elide had reserved the four of them a table and turned off her car, clutching the wheel. She took a deep breath. And another.

She was still a little worked up and all the pent-up emotions of the day were threatening to spill over the surface any minute, but she could make it past dinner and then have her little monthly breakdown in the peace and quiet of her apartment.

She fixed her lipstick, tightened up her ponytail and let two strands of hair cascade on the side of her face. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror, “You can do it.” she whispered as a short pet talk.

She got off the car, pulled out her phone to check if Elide was already inside and she was so focused on the screen she failed to notice someone backing up right in front of her until it was too late.

The car only bumped into her hip, but it was enough to make her lose her balance.

Aelin merely had time to register what was happening that she found herself lying in a puddle of rain and mud. She closed her eyes at the dull pain on the back of her head, but she knew for a fact the hit hadn’t been that bad.

She lifted her arms up, looking down at the wet spots on her dress, darkening by the second. Her seventy euros purse soaking up the water all around her.

The tension behind her eyes just increased when she heard the driver’s door open and someone step out of the car. She couldn’t have stopped the sobs even if she wanted to.

“Miss? Oh god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

Strong arms circled her waist and pulled her up in a standing position. She brought her hands to her face, her body now racked by her crying as she tried to get a handle of herself.

“Miss?” the voice called again, now nearer. “Are you hurt? I didn’t-” the man talking stopped suddenly and Aelin looked up, not seeing anything through the tears. “You.”

And then it hit her.

That voice.

She knew that voice.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing her eyes and staring right back at the man she had ran over that same morning.

Her mouth fell open.

He was looking at her with an amused expression and Aelin couldn’t find the words once again.

What was it with this man and his ability to take her ability to talk by just showing up?

He had a transparent band-aid on his cheek, his cut far less severe than she had thought, and his eyes were glistening with mirth. He was wearing a simple black pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt, but he was even more handsome than in his work clothes.

Aelin was taking rushed, trembling breaths, and she was about to kill this man with her bare hands. Shred his skin off his bones and have him beg-

“I guess we’re even now, uh?”

His attempt of a joke flew over her head and she charged at him, a scream lodged in her throat.

His eyes widened and he took a step back when she flung her arm at him, trying to hit him. His hands closed around her wrists, blocking her from causing him more harm that she’d already done.

“You asshole!” she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “You ruined my dress!”

Aelin lifted a leg, more than convinced to kneel his balls, but he managed to block her blow again, infuriating her even more.

“I was about to meet the love of my life and ruined my fucking dress!”

He tried to push her away from him, still squeezing her wrists, and his brow furrowed.

“He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He’s a pediatrician! He loves children! And he has a cute fucking dog my friend said I would love and cuddle the shit out of! Her name is Fleetfoot and she’s a golden retriever and Elide knows I fucking love goldens. And he’s from Orynth, just. Like. Me!” she got louder and louder with every word she spit out. “And he’s tall, and handsome and he’s the perfect match! And I deserved this one night!”

The man was now looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, his hold slightly loosening.

“I’m so done with this dating thing and I’d finally found him and you!” she shoved a finger in his chest, making him retreat a few steps. “You wanted your payback so bad you ran me over with your car!

“And now he’s gonna take one look at me and think I’m a fucking psycho! I bet my hair are the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen and my make up. Oh fuck, I must look like a panda.” Aelin started crying harder, laying her hands flat on the man’s torso, pushing her head to his chest. “I look like a fucking panda.”

She tried to speak again but her mind just couldn’t form any coherent thought, until she felt the man’s arms closing around her shoulders. He stepped closer, running his hand up and down her back, whispering something she couldn’t really hear over her crying.

Aelin didn’t know how much time she spent in the stranger’s embrace, but when the gravity of the scene she’d just made in front of him downed on her, she felt her body flare up in embarrassment.

That was her life now?

Having mental breakdowns in a dark parking lot after someone she’d ran over with her car had returned the gesture and then making them console her?

She detached herself from the man and for a second she thought she’d felt him hesitate before he took a step back. And another, leaving her standing her in her soaking wet dress and her puffy, surely-red eyes. He bent down, picking up her purse and handing it to her.

She lowered her gaze, not even daring looking at his shoes and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

The man made a sound of surprise, “Why would you be sorry?”

Aelin wished she could die on the spot. Evaporate out of existence.

“For hitting you. Or at least trying. And crying all over you.” she said and then grimaced. She ran a hand over her face. “I just had a very hard day and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to come, but this guy seriously seems like he could be the missing piece to whatever the fuck my puzzle-life is. I didn’t want to take a raincheck and have him thinking I’m not serious about this.”

A beat of silence, “I’m sure he would have understood.”

She shook her head, keeping on talking as if he hadn’t even been there, “And now I can’t go in like this.” she passed her hands on her dress, the tears building up again in her eyes. “Plus, Elide didn’t tell me what he looks like, cause she thinks he’s a real snack and wanted to see my face when I saw him for the first time.” she was bordering on pouting, “That means he’s gotta be smoking hot or I’ll be so pissed at her.”

The man snorted loudly, “A snack.” he hummed, “Maybe I should meet your friend and thank her.”

Aelin’s head snapped up, “Oh no, she’s taken.” she shook her head vehemently, “Like so freaking taken. I swear she and her boyfriend have been together for a whole of three months and they already act like a married couple.”

He nodded, a lopsided smile on his face, “I know the kind.”

She’d been so absorbed by her talking that she hadn’t noticed she’d stopped crying.

She breathed through her nose and clasped her hands together, before reaching one out towards him, “I think introductions are needed. I’m Aelin.” she offered a tentative smile.

His hand engulfed hers, shaking it with impressive gentleness. His smile grew even larger if possible and Aelin was starting to think she was about to het murdered.

But then he said his name and the world ceased existing around them.

Their hands still moving up and down between them.

She tilted her head forward, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

He licked his lower lip, “I’m Rowan.”

Aelin closed her eyes, holding her breath.

She squeezed his hand before releasing it. She took a step back, wishing for the ground beneath her feet to crack open and just eat her whole.

“I’m gonna go kill myself now, if you’ll excuse me.”

His laugh reached her ears with painful speed.

Rowan.

She couldn’t believe it.

Well, she could. The man laughing his heart out at her expense was probably the most handsome person she’d ever seen in her entire life.

At least Elide hadn’t lied about that.

“A tad dramatic, if you ask me,” he said as his laugh died down. He pointed at the restaurant behind him, “You want me to go fetch the married couple so we can go back at the appartment and you can change? I’m not against you walking in there with this outfit at all,” he gave a pointed look, matched by a shit-eating grin that seemed to be etched in his lips, “I’m not gonna think you’re a psycho, not for this at least, and I’m ready to fight everyone who looks at you the wrong way. But you look like you could use the comfort of a warm house.”

Aelin looked up at him with a questioning look, trying to understand if this man she’d just tried to maul was seriously offering her options, letting her choose after everything that had gone down so far between the two of them. As if still giving her a chance.

Rowan arched a brow, looking around and glancing back at her, “Aelin?”

Oh, fuck.

She had been oh so not ready o hear her name from his lips.

She nodded and he smiled, leaning down a bit.

She could smell his cologne from here.

“Yes to what? Me calling Lorcan and Elide or getting inside even if you dripping wet?”

Holy fucking shit, this man shouldn’t have been allowed to say the words dripping wet.

She stilled herself.

What the hell was she thinking? She brought her hands to her face, “Please call them and let’s head home. I’m so fucking tired.” a yawn broke her sentence, as to prove her words, “And I’m freezing in this skimpy dress.”

Rowan rushed to her side, “Oh, god, sorry for not offering sooner, here,” he opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a huge blue sweater. Without even waiting for an answer he snatched her purse from her hands and shoved her head in his sweater.

Aelin felt better right away and gave him a big smile.

Rowan answered with one of his own and of course he had to be this perfect and more.

“I’m sorry for ruining your dress, I’ll make sure they wash it carefully when I take it to the laundry. If you’d let me.”

She nodded faintly, exhaling the panty-dropping smell of his sweater.

“And I’m hoping to see you wear it again once we finally get to go on a proper date.” he smirked, “I bet you looked amazing before I went and ran you over.”

Aelin chuckled, shaking her head, “You truly are a gentleman. Elide wasn’t exaggerating.”

Rowan’s demeanor changed completely and Aelin feared she’d said something wrong, but he averted his gaze as if he was embarassed.

“I’m sorry for this morning,” he said. Aelin almost tripped on her feet. He was sorry? “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that but I was just coming back from the hospital and Elide was right saying I work with kids, but I’m not a pediatrician, I’m a pediatric surgeon.”

His gaze grew dark as he looked over her shoulder, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs.

“Yesterday night we lost a eight years old and I wasn’t really there when you hit me with your car. I didn’t mean to yell at you like I did, it was just-”

Rowan couldn’t finish his sentence that Aelin lunged for him, hugging him as tight as he’d held her a few minutes before, hoping she could relieve some of the pain that was surely clutching his heart. She felt him sag in her arms and hold her in turn.

She was glad she could offer some kind of support.

“It must be hard.” she whispered against his chest.

Rowan nodded, hitting her head with his chin, “It is, but it’s part of the job. The only way you can live with something like that in your baggage is knowing you did everything you could to save them.”

Aelin could feel the emotion lacing his every word and tightened her arms for a moment before freeing him of her embrace. He silently thanked her and told her he’d be right back with their friends.

The second he was gone she realized she couldn’t wait for when he’d be back and they could keep talking.

She’d never felt this way before. Not this fast at least.

Sure, she had loved all her exes, but this. This was different.

There was something there, a connection.

And while he walked back to her, Lorcan and Elide in tow, a bright smile on his handsome face, she couldn’t help but think she was ready to find out all about it.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @hellasblessed @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @terrible-and-proud @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @bookstantrash @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses

[storiesforallfandoms]

driver’s license ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2520

request?: no

description: in which a new song reminds her too much of her ex, and leads them to reconnect

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst, sadness

based on this song (of course)

masterlist

Who knew that a song by a 17 year old could cause so much hurt to be brought back for me? Not to bash 17 year olds or anything, but when I was 17 I could never write something so heartbreakingly beautiful.

I was on my way home from work when the song came on the radio for the first time. I was captivated by the lyrics immediately and found myself having to pull over because I couldn’t stop crying. It took a solid five minutes and having to play my happy playlist on Spotify before I finally felt okay enough to get home, however the minute I got in through the door I found the song on Spotify and listened to it all night.

The lyrics connected with me in a way that a song hadn’t in years, and the pain in the singer’s voice opened up fresh wounds that I had thought were long closed.

She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about

Of course he ended up with her. Even if he hadn’t actually left me for her, he always told me there was nothing between them besides on screen chemistry. And now they were dating and supposedly “so in love”.

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

He wrote so many songs about me. He played every one of them for me after writing and recording them, just to get my approval and my okay to put them out. They were beautiful songs - songs in which he promised forever. He’d always said he was going to marry me one day, make me the mother of his future kids. His “forever girl”.

Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fucking love you, babe

God...did I ever still love him.

Our relationship didn’t get a proper closure. At least, not on my end. It all happened so fast. He came home after a long tour and was silent the whole night. He didn’t even try to make love to me the way he always did after being away from me for so long. The next morning, he told me over breakfast that he had lost feelings for me. He asked me to get my things and take them back to the apartment I still had despite basically living out of his home. Then he left, saying he didn’t want to be there to watch me leave.

After that, it was like he stopped existing. Well, it was like Colson Baker stopped existing. Machine Gun Kelly was everywhere, especially after announcing his new relationship with Megan Fox, in which he made sure to post pictures and videos with her basically every week. But the Colson I knew and loved stopped existing. He blocked me on everything, even my phone number. He didn’t reach out to me, neither did Casie. I figured the latter was because her father told her not to, which almost hurt more than the breakup did. I loved Casie like my own daughter, and I loved Colson more than anything. And in the span of 12 hours, I lost both of them.

I credited that non-closure to the reason I had such a hard time moving on, even after being broken up almost a year. I really thought I was okay, until I heard fucking Olivia Rodrigo singing about her own heartbreak, and it made me remember mine was still fresh.

On one day that my thoughts were becoming too dark to bare on my own, I decided to go out for a drive to clear my head. I turned on the song, just to make myself more depressed I guess. I wasn’t really paying attention to the road (not good, I know) and, I guess by some muscle memory, I found myself driving down Colson’s street. I hadn’t realized where I was until I saw his familiar house, which his familiar car in the driveway...and his familiar tall frame getting out of it.

My breath caught in my throat and I was sure I was about to crash the car. I looked at him for a little too long, every good memory we ever had rushing back in that moment. He was looking down at his keys as he bumped the car door shut with his hip. I wondered if Megan was in the house waiting for him, and found that that thought hurt me more than actually seeing him.

I saw his head lifting, looking in my direction, for a split second before my eyes darted back to the road. I hoped he couldn’t see me in the driver’s seat, or that he didn’t see me looking at him. I hoped he just thought I was a random car passing through the neighborhood. If he couldn’t see that it was specifically me driving, there was no way he’d know it was my car. There were too many cars like it.

My heart was racing and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes again. I knew I had to pull over, but I was still too close to his house to feel comfortable stopping. I blinked my tears away and continued driving, trying to steady my heartbeat as I drove to the coffee shop just at the end of his road. The one we always used to go to.

I got out and went inside, hoping that getting something to eat and drink would help me to settle down before I drove home. I ordered an iced coffee and a muffin and took it to sit in a booth tucked away in the back of the coffee shop. I was trying to distract myself with my phone when someone approached and spoke.

“Hey.”

My whole body tensed up as I looked up to see - of course - Colson stood over me.

“Hey,” I said. I cringed at how hoarse my voice sounded. God, pull it together (Y/N).

“I thought that was you driving past my place,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

“Yeah, sorry,” I said, trying to come up with some excuse on the spot as to why I was in the neighborhood. “I haven’t been to this place in so long and found myself craving some coffee. I guess...it was just muscle memory to come through your way to get here.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I...I actually got a little excited. I thought...I thought maybe you were coming over for a second. I forgot...”

His voice trailed away.

How could he forget we broke up when he was the one who dumped me? And he was the one who moved on soo effortlessly?

“Can I sit?” he asked.

I shrugged in response. “Free country.”

He chuckled at my joke, and my heart did an involuntary flip. God, I missed that laugh.

He sat across from me in the booth and looked down at his hands. I stared down at the food in front of me, suddenly feeling too queasy to eat. Instead, I took another sip of my iced coffee.

“How have you been?” he asked.

The questioned annoyed me.

How have I been?! Well, let’s see: you absolutely shattered my heart, went MIA on me and took your daughter with you, started seeing the much older, much prettier actress that you told me you had no feelings for and decided to rub it in my face through social media, all while I have been so broken for nearly a year that I constantly have friends and family checking in on me to make sure I’m still alive. How the fuck do you think I’ve been?!

I decided not to respond that way though, even though I was aching to make him feel bad for what he did to me. I knew it was the smarter option to try and be the bigger person in this situation.

“I’ve been okay,” I responded, trying to be as vague as possible. “Not too much as happened really. Still...same old me.”

I didn’t ask him how he was, because I already knew. He knew that I knew, because how could I not? His face was plastered everywhere, usually sucking on Megan’s face as well.

“It’s cool to see you,” he said instead. “I...It’s been too long.”

“Well, it tends to be hard to communicate when you block someone on everything overnight.”

I quickly took a sip of my iced coffee, almost wishing that would put the words back in my mouth.

Colson winced. “Yeah, that was...that was wrong of me. I...I’m sorry.”

“Why the fuck are you here, Colson?” I finally snapped. So much for being the bigger person. “Couldn’t you have just watched me drive past in peace? Did you have to follow me?”

“I felt like I had to,” he said. “I wanted...I wanted to know I hadn’t just seen you this time like all the other times I saw a car that looked like yours. I had to know if it was actually you this time. And I...I had to see you in person again.”

“You could’ve called at any time,” I reminded him. “Or messaged on social media, or even just texted. You could’ve even sent a fucking letter, Colson! If you wanted to see me that bad, you had ways of reaching out. You decided not to, you decided that the break up meant I was non-existent to you anymore.”

“I know!” he snapped back, his hand hitting the table and causing the contents on it to rattle. All eyes in the coffee shop were staring at us for a brief moment before going back to what they were doing. “I fucking know, and it was the worst fucking mistake I’ve ever made. I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I was a complete idiot.”

“Sorry means nothing to me, Colson,” I told him. “Sorry doesn’t undo the year of heartbreak and agony you put me through. Sorry doesn’t undo the fact that you left me for six months to go on tour, that you texted and called me every morning and every night to tell me how much you loved me and how you couldn’t wait to see me again, even on the night before you came home, only to do a complete 180 the moment you got off the plane. It doesn’t excuse the fact that you told me to take my shit and leave the place I had considered a home for two years because you were ending the five year relationship that you claimed to be so deeply in love with. And it especially doesn’t excuse the fact that mere months after the break up you were all over Megan fucking Fox!”

He was silent for a long time. His eyes were becoming moist with tears, and I could feel a lump growing in my own throat. But I couldn’t break. I refused to do so. Not in front of him, not right now.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he finally breathed, his voice cracking slightly. “You have to know how much I truly do fucking love you, (Y/N). That never went away. It’s still there, you’re still my forever girl in my heart. But when I came home from tour...my manager called me as I was boarding the flight and told me that there was a plan in motion to get promo for the new album and for the movie with Megan. They wanted Megan and I to date for PR, to be all lovey dovey in front of the cameras and to gush over one another constantly. I reminded him about you and he told me I had to break up with you. He gave me no option, he said either I did that or I was being dropped from the label. No album, no movie, no...no nothing. Just the loser who was still being referred to as the idiot who got his career destroyed by Eminem.”

It was a shocking revelation. I had known Colson’s manager, he seemed like such a nice guy. He didn’t seem like the type to give those kinds of ultimatums. But there was that saying about a wolf in sheep’s clothing...

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“It was easier to make you think I just wasn’t in love anymore,” he said. “I didn’t want you to think I was choosing my career over you, cause I’d never do that. You meant - you mean - the world to me (Y/N). You’re my everything. I just...all the hard work I was putting into everything, for all of that to go to waste, for everything to flop just because I didn’t want to fake date my co-star. I was afraid of the power my manager held over me so...so I just did it. I went along with the plan. I pretended to be hopelessly in love with Megan when I had no feelings for her at all.”

He reached across the table and took my hands in his. I jumped and thought about pulling away from him, but I couldn’t deny that it felt nice to feel his touch again.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he said. “More than anything, you’re the person I want to be with. That bullshit with Megan, it’s long over. We just haven’t made it known publicly, but it will be announced. I want to try and pick up where things left off with us. I want to have you back in my home - in my arms - preparing to marry you someday. Please, (Y/N), can you please forgive me?”

It was the words I wanted to hear more than anything. I had dreamt about hearing Colson ask to take me back ever since he had broken up with me. At that point in time, I probably would’ve jumped at the chance, too. But this time, I slowly pulled my hands away from his. He looked at me in confusion.

“I can’t,” I told him. “Colson, you really fucking hurt me. You left me with no explanation, not even any closure. I get why you did it, but you have to understand that you telling me now isn’t going to undo a year’s worth of hurt that you put me through. I don’t know if anything will ever undo that at this point.”

I stood from the booth, taking my coffee with me and leaving a heartbroken Colson looking up at me with puppy dog eyes.

“There’s this song I’ve been listening to,” I said. “It’s called Driver’s License. I think it’s the only accurate way to describe how much you hurt me when you broke up with me. I encourage you to listen to it, then you can try to take me back again.”

I turned quickly and left before he could see me cry.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

too soon to tell, chapter t w o

You dropped your bag in the foyer of Harry’s house after work on a Thursday. It was quiet--he wasn’t home yet and you’d keyed in knowing that you’d have some time to yourself.

You felt a vibrating in your pocket when you shrugged off your coat, your visible reflection told you it was a FaceTime call, Alyssa’s name danced across the screen until you slid your thumb to answer.

“Hello, hello,” you greeted, walking to find a seat on the couch.

“Where are you?” She furrowed her brows as she took in your surroundings.

“At Harry’s--he’s out, though.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I will never get sick of you lounging in his house when he’s not there.”

You rolled your eyes at your old roommate’s antics--she’d always been the number one supporter of your relationship and when you texted her earlier saying you needed advice, she promised to call on her lunch break.

“I’m not lounging,” you informed with a shake of your head. “I just got out of work, we’re having dinner tonight.”

“Mr. Popstar isn’t too busy?” She teased, aware of the tension both of your schedules had been causing.

“Apparently not.”

She forked a bite of food into her mouth, the sun was shining through the window behind her, the walls of your old apartment were redecorated now with the art of your replacement. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Sort of,” you leaned back and let out a breath. “I mean, it’s all connected--”

“What is?”

“I’m getting to it,” you made a face at her through the phone. “So--don’t freak out, okay? Cause I don’t even know if anything will come from it and Harry doesn’t know yet.”

She nodded and gestured with her hand for you to get on with it.

Knowing Alyssa, she was already jumping to conclusions in her head. You were pregnant, you were engaged, you quit your job, you had a huge fight with your sister. No, no, no.

“I interviewed for a job in LA...and I haven’t told Harry because all our friends have been so excited about us being in the same spot again but--”

Her eyes went wide at the mention of a US city, she did her best to hold back her smile until it faded when you said: “I don’t know. Something feels off between us.”

“Off between you and Harry? More than just being busy?”

“I’m probably overthinking it but,” you looked around his living room. Pictures of his mum, his sister, his cousins--even his manager--were tucked in frames and placed on shelves. There wasn’t a trace of you in his house except for the toothbrush upstairs and the key on your keyring.

“It feels like we’re not moving forward. And we’ve both been busy, like I’ve told you, but since we don’t live together sometimes we go days without seeing each other and it’s fine, I get that he’s busy, obviously, but--”

“But you want to move in with him.”

“Well, I don’t know--I did, sort of, I think--but then I heard about this job in LA and it sounds amazing but Jessie just moved here and no one will shut up about how great London is.”

Alyssa offered a sympathetic frown and repositioned the bowl in front of her to get another bite. “What’s the job?”

You almost didn’t want to tell her, sure she’d get excited and eager to have you back in the same country. You winced a little, bracing for her reaction. “S’with E! News,” you shrugged. “It’d be on-air.”

“Shut up! Are you serious?!”

“Yes m’serious,” you rolled your eyes. “But I haven’t told any of them because you know how they are.”

She nodded, “Jessie will not want you to take it.”

“God love her, but of course not. And Harry spends time out there, so it might be okay, but it’s not like I could ask him to go with me.”

“Why not? He’s famous, Y/N--he belongs there.”

“It’s too soon,” you whined. “He’s not my fiancé and we don’t live together, so--I don’t want to make it weird.”

“But you love him,” she reasoned.

“Yeah, but s’been weird lately!" You tried to drive home the point. "He’s made no mention of moving in and we’ve been dating for a year and a half, I’ve been in London for over a year now. He’s not even mentioned it, Alyssa, I swear. He’ll say things like ‘one day we can go on vacation,’ and ‘what should we do for Christmas?’ But he’s made no concrete plans to actually have a future with me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t think you’re ready.”

“Maybe he’s not ready,” you volleyed.

“Maybe,” Alyssa shrugged. “But you won’t know if you don’t ask him.”

“But if I ask him and he’s not on the same page I’ll look like an idiot and he’s busy with the album and now I’m thinking about moving to LA and--”

She watched you, waited for you to say more, but you were out of words. You changed gears.

“Maybe we’re just not meant to be long term.”

“Oh come on,” she groaned. “Not this again.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Your whole ‘we should have left it in New York’ shit.”

You lifted your eyebrows to demand further details.

“You were freaked out in the beginning that you’d move back there and it would be weird.”

“And?”

“Was it weird?”

“Not at first, I guess. But I mean, come on---don’t you think we should have taken some kind of step forward by now? Even just mentioning the idea of moving in together?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “Maybe it’s different with someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes--what if that’s what you were sick of?

People always said that: it’s different because of his job, it’s different because he’s on the road, it’s different because he’s famous.

Of course it was, and that was fine, for a while. But what if Harry’s job always got in the way of feeling normal? What if you couldn’t have a real wedding because of it? What if you could never send your children to summer camp because of it?

Were you willing to sacrifice your own future to live an unconventional life with someone just because you loved him?

“When will you hear back about the job?”

“Dunno--talked to them last week on Monday and they said this week at some point. S'been a while, so hopefully soon.”

You’d been keeping busy, trying to avoid your personal email at all costs and also making sure that Harry had limited visibility of your screen at all times.

“Do you want it?”

You thought on it for a second. Being offered a job at a company like E! would certainly be an ego boost, but the mere thought of having to explain to all of your friends that yes, you’d been back in London for 18 months and now you were packing up and moving even farther away than before wouldn’t be easy. That seemed to be the one certainty in the whole situation: no one would take it well.

“I don’t want to leave everyone here, especially Harry--but I also don’t want to be stupid and think that this relationship is going somewhere if it’s not.”

Alyssa nodded and let out a sigh. “I get that, I mean, of course you have to do what’s best for you. But I’d hate to see you not be with him just because things are hard right now.”

You leaned your head back on the couch and sighed. You didn’t want to break up with Harry. If anything, you wanted to move forward and move in with him and do what you’d always imagined: have a good job, have a few kids, try to be happy.

But what if you’d been naive enough to think you could have all of that with Harry and what if this is how you were finding out that you couldn’t?

Were you still stuck in your teenage fantasy of marrying the boy you'd long been crushing on?

She watched you for a second before she reassured: “you’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, glad you’d called Alyssa if only to have someone talk you off the edge a little bit. You missed waking up one room over and her love for basketball games and New York 99 cent pizza.

“Well it’s not like I have to make a decision right now,” you said. “I haven’t even heard back from them. For all I know they could never reach out again because I bombed my interview.”

She rolled her eyes at your self-deprecation and offered a few final words of encouragement before you hung up and promised to catch up soon.

Ever since you’d left, Alyssa had taken it upon herself to keep you up to date on the ins and outs of New York. New restaurant? She’d send you pictures and a 200 word review. Crazy subway rats making the news again? Articles and video proof would be sent your way in a matter of hours.

She’d gotten a new roommate to fill your bedroom and apparently things weren’t always peachy between them. Peyton was quiet and shy--according to Alyssa. She was up every morning at 6am and in the shower at 6:30. She did yoga in the living room and hated it when Alyssa left empty beer bottles on the coffee table.

Alyssa was starting to lose her shit, swearing up and down that she needed to either pull the trigger and move in with Owen or find a new place altogether. It was my apartment first, she’d say. She should leave, not me.

It had been hard that year to leave the city you’d grown to love but harder to leave Alyssa and Carly and the things that made New York feel like home. It was also, in hindsight, hard to leave the place where you and Harry reconnected and built the foundation of your current relationship.

You heard commotion from the front door only a few minutes later when you rummaged through Harry’s kitchen for a snack.

“Hi,” he called from the other room, a close-lipped smile when you stuck your head around the corner to greet him.

“Hi! How was the photoshoot?”

“Good,” he nodded, watching as you stuck your hand into a box of crackers. “What time are we meeting everyone?”

Right--Thursday also meant dinner somewhere downtown with everyone in tow.

“7pm--but Jessie said we should try to get there early since it’s a new place and no one’s ever been.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of your words but seemed distracted, like his mind was somewhere else and his body was the only thing tying him to the room.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking back up at you. “Just a busy day and a busy week.”

You nodded, unsure if he wanted to say more or if you were supposed to have more of a reply than a simple nod of your head.

You’d both been stammering out awkward sentences and trying to dance around the elephant in the room for a few weeks, but now, under his gaze, you felt more uncertain than before.

“Are you okay?” He turned the question around and watched you closely.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, moving to sit on the couch.

“You seem--off.”

You didn’t know what it was. Could he possibly sense the tension in your shoulders as you waited for an email either way? You got the job! We regret to inform you…

Or was he just aware that you felt awkward since it had been almost two weeks since you had any considerable amount of alone time and even longer since you were able to have a date night that wasn’t interrupted by Jeff or Erica or someone who needed something from him.

He took a few steps closer towards you, a look of concern etched on his features. “What’s wrong?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue when he looked at you, eyebrows lifted as he waited for you to spit it out.

“I guess I feel like we’ve been distant.”

He pushed his head forward, almost like he hadn’t expected that to be the issue. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, caught off guard by his pushiness. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up.

“You don’t know?” He pressed.

You broke eye contact with him for a minute, wondering why you had to state the obvious. “Well, you’re busy all the time, Harry.”

He let his shoulders rise and fall in defeat, looking around the room in frustration. “I told you that finishing the album would be busy.”

“Yeah, but you forgot to mention that you’d also be busy when the album is done once promo starts and then tour,” your voice was quiet, not so much angry as you were upset.

You were tired. You wanted nothing more than to spend a night on the couch with him and only him, tell him about LA and about the sudden itch you felt to see more of the world than just London.

But with Jake and Adam always around and Bryn and Jessie, too, paired with interruptions from Jeff and Erica--it felt as if there was no hope for a private or honest conversation.

He came to sit closer to you on the couch now, took your hands in his. “I know my job is a lot, okay? I know it’s annoying that I don’t necessarily get weekends off or have a typical schedule, but once the album is out and the promo is done I’ll have a bit of a break before the tour. We can go on vacation somewhere, just us.”

It sounded nice, maybe a tropical island or a cabin in the woods. But before you could nod in agreement the thought of Los Angeles popped into your head.

His album was due out in December, promo from now through the New Year, some time off in February and March for both of your birthdays and then tour. You had no clue where you’d be by then.

Would you be in LA? Would you be in London? Would you be stuck in this same spot on his couch with decision paralysis and a crushing sense of uncertainty about the future?

He knew you were over-thinking and tilted his head. “What?”

You blew out a slow breath of air, twisted a ring on your finger and then looked up at him again.

You didn’t even have a chance to be more honest, a buzz on your phone on the coffee table in front of you both broke the room in half, the name of the woman you’d spoken to was in bold next to your email icon. You reached for it quickly, Harry’s brows furrowed when you pulled it close to your chest so he wouldn’t see.

“What’s that?”

Hi Y/N, thank you so much for your patience over the last few days. We would love to offer you a position with NBC Universal - E! News as an on-air correspondent in our Los Angeles headquarters.

You looked up at him quickly, cheeks red and heart racing.

“What’s happening, are you okay?”

“I got a job offer,” you said quickly, still holding the phone close to you.

“What?” He smiled, “why didn’t you tell me you were looking? I didn’t even know--”

“It’s in Los Angeles.”

His smile faded instantly, he blinked a few times like he must have misheard you. The leather of his couch felt cool beneath your legs, a clock on the wall ticked and for a second, you wondered if he could hear your pulse as loudly as you could.

He pulled his eyes away from you but then quickly scanned over your face. “Are you taking it?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Silence, words filled your brain and crawled up the back of your throat, desperate to be said out loud, in real life, instead of just circling in your head.

Because I don’t know what we’re doing or if we’re moving forward. I don’t know where I want to live. I don’t know if I can stay in London forever. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Only the last part made it out between your lips. “I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he stood up, more angry now as he looked around the room and scratched at the base of his neck. “This kind of feels like a bombshell to drop on someone.”

“I was going to tell you--but we haven’t had a second alone, I just didn’t want to have to tell everyone before I knew what was happening.”

“You didn’t even tell me you interviewed,” he said.

“The last time I saw you alone we got interrupted by Erica three times in one conversation.”

“Probably for a good reason--”

“But you seriously can’t even put your phone down lately when we have dinner, even when everyone else is there!”

“I can’t help it that my work is insanely busy right now!”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” you said this quickly, voice higher than usual and a heat on your skin that he normally didn’t provoke, at least not in a bad way. You stood from the couch and put your hands on your hips. “I don’t know what I’m going to do and I don’t even know if this job is right for me and under no circumstances are you allowed to tell anyone. Especially Jessie.”

He rolled his eyes at that.

“What’s the eye roll for?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone just got back and now you might leave and--”

“I said I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”

He was quiet at that, clucked his tongue in thought but then disappeared upstairs to shower and change.

The car ride over was awkward, he asked how your day had been and you told him you talked to Alyssa, he bristled when you admitted you told her about it.

It wouldn’t be the end of the conversation, you were sure of that. You’d likely end up at his for the night and he’d apologize for being busy, you’d apologize for not telling him and maybe, you hoped, he’d ask you to stay over.

When you greeted Adam with a hug, you ignored Harry’s sour mood and opened the menu in front of you.

“My first dinner as a Londoner,” Jessie smiled, shimming her shoulders in excitement when Bryn looked over the specials across the table from you.

“This is on you, right? New job, new salary?” Jake teased.

“Maybe if I hadn’t just bought a whole new bedroom set,” she rolled her eyes.

“How’s everything with you?” Adam eyed Harry, his question veiled to avoid too many details in public.

Luckily, Harry’s ability to go out in public in London was similar to that in New York. As long as a private room or a table in the back was requested, he could typically get away unscathed if dinner was less than 2 hours and if he had his back to the dining room.

“Fine,” he shrugged, eyes still down at the drink menu.

“Fine?” Jessie leaned forward, her tone insinuating that she didn’t believe him. “You’ve been working really hard all summer and now all you say is ‘fine?’”

He glanced up at her, lips in a forced smile. “S’all good, Jess--just tired.”

Bryn gave you a look, one that asked what stick is up his ass?, before she changed the topic.

“Let’s not tell our server how fit she is tonight, yeah?”

Jake let out a snort of a laugh and sipped at the water that had already been brought to your table. “Alright, you thought the one last week was just as hot as I did.”

“I did,” Bryn agreed seriously, “but I didn’t offer my number unsolicited. How do you know she’s even straight?”

“She’s got a point,” Jessie chimed in. “Remember when you asked that girl to dance in the club when her girlfriend was right there with her arm around her?”

“I thought they were just mates!” Jake defended.

“You also have the worst radar for gay women ever,” Bryn nodded.

“When was this?” Harry asked, the hint of a smile on his face when he watched Jake adjust his napkin on his lap.

The words came out of your mouth without thought. “You weren’t here--you were in LA.”

He met your eyes when you replied, nodded, and then leaned back in his chair, effectively bowing out of the conversation without saying another word.

You weren’t trying to be short with him. You looked over to Jessie, who undoubtedly sensed the tension, and offered a smile. “How’s the flat?”

“Good,” she nodded. “Glad that all my furniture got put together without any scratches,” she reached over and patted Adam on the shoulder.

“We’re not children, Jessie, we can handle some furniture.”

“You broke my dresser when I asked you guys to move it into another room,” Bryn reminded, a look of confusion on her face at Adam’s retort.

“Only because it was already half broken and a piece of shit,” Jake said. “I love you, Brynnie, but that dresser was already knocking on Heaven’s door.”

Harry let out a laugh at that, another memory that he had missed while on a trip to a studio somewhere north of London. He excused himself to the bathroom after you placed your orders, and once he was out of earshot, Jake leaned down and looked at you.

“What’s going on with him?”

You forced a cheesy grin and blinked a few times. “He’s just grumpy.”

“‘Bout what?” Bryn asked.

“Guys,” you leaned back in your chair, hoping you didn’t have to say too much. “I can’t tell you every single thing that happens in our relationship.”

“Well, when it affects us I think we have the right to know,” Jessie shrugged, playing the typical we don’t like when our parents fight card.

“It’s not affecting you,” you shook your head, eyed her seriously over your glass of Pinot Noir.

Adam shrugged, a smirk on his face let you know he was trying to rile you up. “He’s grumpy at dinner and we’re all here and we’re all aware of it. We don’t like tension between you two.”

“Alright, leave the woman alone,” Jake waved them off. “As long as everything’s alright.”

“It’s totally alright,” you nodded, wondering when you’d gotten so comfortable lying to them. “He’s just busy with the next phase of work.”

With Harry’s album yet to be announced, you couldn’t sit around in a London restaurant and divulge details--even if you were all acutely aware of the work he’d put in and the upcoming announcements and events.

Adam let it go. “How’s work for you, Smalls?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “s’good--I told you all about my November cover story, right?”

“Yeah,” Jessie sipped a glass of Cabernet. “But you said you didn’t know who it was going to be with.”

“Well, s’cause I had to drop the bomb on him first,” you nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll be sitting down in a few days with Ms. Gigi Hadid,” you lowered your voice and leaned forward to say her name.

Bryn’s eyes went wide, Jake grimaced.

“How’d he take that?” Adam asked.

“He’s not thrilled,” you admitted. “But I’ll talk with his team about what to avoid specifically, I guess. Her team will probably have a list of off-limits items too.”

Bryn let her elbows rest on the white tablecloth. “Yeah, but, you can’t just ignore the fact that she’s dating Zayn.”

“I also can’t just barge in and stir shit up,” you said.

Harry pulled his chair out next to you and sat back down. “Who are you stirring shit up with?”

Everyone chose to be quiet now--Adam looked down at his phone and Jessie reached for her wine again.

“Just telling them about my cover story,” you admitted, watching his face for a reaction.

He nodded, a tiny smirk in your direction. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stir shit up,” he said, reaching to put a hand on your thigh beneath the table.

Those were the moments that made you feel less panicky--the realization that he was still choosing you and even when the tension was high and the mood was low, he’d reach over and remind you that yes, he cared. Even if he was late to dinner or distracted.

Which is why, when you got back in his car that night and headed for his house, you were surprised when his mood shifted again.

“I’ll just drop you at yours?”

“Oh--yeah, sure.”

“Did you want to come to mine?” He looked over at you like he hadn’t expected any resistance to sleeping separately.

You were quiet for a second--not if he didn’t want you there. “No, it’s fine.”

“I can’t read your mind, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to,” you said quickly, a prickly tone to your words when he made an unreadable face.

He drove in silence for a few minutes, closing in on your neighborhood when the street lamps disappeared for the sake of suburbia.

Eventually he cleared his throat and that sent you over the edge.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? Do you want me to apologize for interviewing for this job?”

“No,” he said simply. “I just don’t know why you thought you didn’t need to tell me about a huge decision like that.”

“It wasn’t a decision until today when they offered it to me.”

“Just seems like something you talk to your boyfriend about.”

You looked over at him in the dark of night, the glow from the dashboard didn’t help you see his features as he turned left onto your street.

“Well, sorry that we didn’t have the opportunity to talk about it between your work schedule and Jessie moving in and group dates--”

He slowed down on your street, put his flashers on when he stopped in front of your building. “I don’t want to keep secrets from each other,” his voice was softer now. “I don’t want to not know what’s going on in your life. I did enough of that for two years when we weren't talking.”

You sighed at this, the sentiment broke whatever anger was lurking inside you and when you looked up to see him, you wondered if you should ask him.

Are we ever going to move in together? Are we ever going to get engaged?

You figured the lead up to his sophomore album wasn’t the best time for that conversation. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you climbed the stairs to your flat alone.

**

A few days later you sat nervously in a conference room and watched as beads of sweat formed on the water glass in front of you. Tyler had brought you in, offered you a breath mint, and promised you’d be fine. When you asked him if the whole room was hot he said it was just you and your nerves--but the droplets of water that raced towards the wooden conference table begged to differ.

You’d gotten email after email this morning: one from Jeff with the rules he and Harry had come up with and eight from Gigi’s team with requests for snacks, topics to discuss, topics to avoid, lunch request, arrival and departure time, and a few extra regarding booking her photoshoot the next day.

A text lit up your screen when you tried to smooth your your hair in the reflection of your screen.

Jake Newcomb (10:42am): In case you’re wondering what to get me for my birthday, a video of Gigi Hadid saying she loves me would be perfect!

You ignored his text and felt a pang of disappointment in your gut, you thought it would have been Harry with words of encouragement.

He was fine with you doing the interview, he seemed to come around to the idea when he met with Jeff and had a chance to mark some things as off limits.

So far, his list was as follows:

Don’t publish anything too negative about anyone in the band (if she says anything negative about anyone in the band)

Harry and Jeff got to listen to the taped interview

Harry and Jeff got to read the article before you sent it off to your editor and could make suggestions to cut things if they felt it necessary.

It seemed silly, but you’d long been used to the lingo of contracts and riders and ground rules for things like these. You knew both Harry and Jeff trusted you, in fact, Jeff was now choosing to see this as a good opportunity for press before the announcement of Harry’s album.

Your biggest concern, truly, was not looking/sounding/acting like an idiot in a room alone with Gigi Hadid. Your second biggest concern was conducting a unique interview and writing a unique article.

You knew that Naomi and Tyler were nearby for support if needed, Tyler had already walked by the conference room three times to see if your subject had arrived and likely to make sure you hadn’t sweat through your blouse. You thought the commotion in the hallway was him until you saw a group of busy-looking people with cellphones and sunglasses.

“Hi,” you stood from your chair, extended a hand in her direction and offered your best professional smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Gigi, thanks for doing this interview.”

She seemed hesitant at first, smiled a little and shook your hand. “Happy to,” she said. She turned over her shoulder and locked eyes with the woman who seemed to be the most in-charge of the group. “I’m good,” she nodded.

They hustled out quickly, you stood frozen in place and watched as she took off her coat before sitting in the chair you’d pulled out for her. Once the door was shut behind her posse, she let out a sigh that bled into a frustrated laugh.

“I could never do an interview with all of them just loitering around--wouldn’t that be so weird?”

You nodded, mirrored her smile and had to remind your body how to move. Left foot, right, breathe, sit in the chair.

You weren’t really one to get star struck, but then again, you didn’t spend too much time with celebrities that weren’t Harry or his close friends. You certainly never sat down with a model like Gigi to have a conversation that could be as awkward as this one.

She checked her phone quickly but then put it face down on the table. “I am happy to do this, I know it might feel weird for us to be hanging out--but boys are stupid anyway.”

You smiled at this, immediately relaxed when she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“Did you also get a whole list of things to not talk to me about?”

She stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Zayn can be a man of few words but,” she looked down at your phone on the table. “Off the record--he had quite a bit to say when I told him you were doing the interview.”

“Off the record,” you laughed, “Harry did too. But how is Zayn?”

“He’s good--thinking about getting back in the studio at some point to start working on a new album, he’s been writing a bunch. Harry’s doing the same I assume?”

“Yes, yeah, he’s been really busy.”

“I know things might not have gone great between all of them at the end, but I don’t want this to be awkward for us.”

“Me neither. You can say as much or as little about the band as you’d like.”

She nodded, you figured it was time to give your pre-interview spiel.

“So, I’ll record us in a few seconds, you can obviously say ‘off the record’ if there’s something you don’t want me to include, but I like my interviews to be like conversations, basically. I’ll send someone on your team the recording when we’re done and a typed transcript. You’ll have 48-hours to look over it and revoke any statements that you don’t want me publishing or to clarify anything. After that I’ll write the story, send a final copy to your team before it gets finalized here, again, 48-hours to look it over and request any changes but at that time we don’t have to approve the requests. This is all in a document somewhere that someone probably signed for you--I’m sure your team is used to it, they know what they’re doing.”

You reached forward and pressed a few buttons on your phone, she watched until you looked up and told her: “It’s on now, so we’re recording and today is September 10th, 2019.”

She smiled like you were old friends. “Where do we start?”

“Is there somewhere you want to start?”

She leaned her head to the side. “We can jump right to it--”

“To what?”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. “Us talking about One Direction will make headlines for weeks.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “It’s funny that us just sitting down together will be a big deal, right? As if we’ve got nothing better to talk about than them.”

“Sexism at it’s finest,” she admitted.

“Do you find that a lot in your industry?”

She thought on this for a second, looked out the window but nodded. “It’s unavoidable, in a lot of ways. I think there have been a lot of changes over the last few years to at least move us in the right direction, but we’ve got a long way to go.”

“How would you want to see it change for the better?”

“Well, I’d love to have more privacy about my love life, for one,” she caught herself, looked to you quickly as if she felt bad. “Off the record, we can talk about it here, it’s fine. It’s different to talk about it with a woman, number one. And you’re you, you get it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you offered.

“No, I don’t mind. Unless you plan on asking me stupid things like how amazing is it to be dating someone as handsome as him or do I find that his job overshadows mine, we’re good. We can be back on the record, too,” she looked down at the numbers on your phone, eyeing the ticking of the recording clock.

“But do you know what I mean? No one asks guys questions like that--or they’re different, at least. People just want to know everything about your relationship when you’re a woman and they view you in the context of who you’re sleeping with.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I get that.”

She smiled, “it’s hard to date someone famous, isn’t it? Lots of rules around it.”

You were surprised by the genuine look in her eyes, despite her own status and contracts and income, she seemed to be acknowledging that the two of you shared a unique experience and were now brought together under strange circumstances.

“It’s definitely hard for me--but, isn’t it easier seeing as you also have an assistant and a manager and people to, I don’t know, facilitate things? Not to invalidate how hard it still is.”

She laughed at that, “Yeah, in some ways, probably. He’s really private though, which is good for us. We focus on ourselves and do our own thing most of the time.”

“Right--you seem pretty private about it for the most part.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, reflecting on your words for a second. “I think to me it feels weird that my relationship status can make so much news, you know? Modeling is my job and obviously that’s not your typical nine-to-five but--I like to focus on my work and when male journalists are continuously obsessed with my love life, I find that weird. I mean, you get that, right? I’m sure it’s no different with Harry.”

You bit your lip, embarrassed at how she’d managed to turn it around. She was right--you’d been getting more and more annoyed with how much your relationship with Harry was dictating your life--and for some reason, you admitted this to her.

“People are much more interested in me because I’m dating him--but they’d be just as interested in you even if you weren’t.”

“Would they?” She tilted her head to the side, another rise and fall of her shoulders as she looked around the room. “I get what you’re saying, but sometimes it feels like dating him gave my career a huge boost. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, I totally get it. I feel the same way. I was building my career in New York and it was going well and I was writing fun stuff and making a name for myself and then I started hanging out with him and--”

“Everyone started to care more about you?”

“Exactly.”

You thought about the headlines, the articles, the pictures in tabloids that undoubtedly helped your name spread like wildfire through London and New York. You had to ignore it, most of the time, reassure yourself that you were a good journalist and a good employee and the good things in your career were not just a byproduct of the boy who slept in your bed.

She smiled knowingly, her lips in a thin line when she looked down to the tape recorder, almost like she felt guilty for steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, sitting up straight. “Back to business.”

The conversation bled into more normal things: the upcoming fall fashion week, how she manages self-care when she’s busy jetting from city to city, and, try as you might, the two of you wound your way back to your commonalities a few times: sexism in your industries, life as young women dating famous men.

You thanked her profusely at the end and promised that Tyler would be in touch to confirm the date and time for her corresponding photoshoot later that week. She draped a Versace leather tote over her shoulder and seemed to float out of the office with a posse of beautiful people behind her.

You stood--still awestruck--in the hallway and watched as the elevator doors slid shut.

“She’s prettier in person,” Tyler said from beside you, a notebook in hand as he stared at the air she’d once occupied. “I didn’t know if that type of thing was possible but she’s definitely one of the prettiest humans I’ve ever seen.”

“She was nice,” you turned around to see Naomi behind him, also eager for more details. You headed back for your office in a trance, they scurried behind you as you thought aloud. “I mean, I didn’t think she’d be rude--but I didn’t know what to expect with the whole band history stuff.”

“Did you talk about that?”

“Less about the band and more about--” you blinked a few times and sat down at your desk, “sexism, what it’s like to be a woman dating a famous man and how that affects your career.”

Both of their eyes went wide, a smile tugged at Naomi’s lips when Tyler put a hand over his heart in shock.

“I’m sorry, so you’re telling me that you just had a heart to heart with Gigi Hadid about sexism and your boyfriends and--”

“I guess so,” you shrugged, just as surprised as they were.

**

You gave Harry fewer details that night over FaceTime as you brushed your teeth. He was somewhere in New York, disappointed that he’d miss Jake’s birthday dinner and celebration, but he promised to make it up to him when he got back.

He lifted a cup of tea to take a sip, light shone through the window behind him on your screen and he scrolled through emails on his laptop.

You spit into the sink, an ocean between you.

“Have you thought at all about the offer? You have to tell them by tomorrow, yeah?”

You nodded, wiped at your mouth with a towel and then crossed your arms. “I can stay, I mean--if you want me to.”

He made a face at that, leaned forward and furrowed his brows together. “Of course I want you to stay, Y/N, but I don’t want to be the reason you pass on something important."

You were quiet for a second, uncapped lotion before spreading some across your forehead.

"I'm sorry I didn't react well when you told me. I'm proud of you and it sounds like a phenomenal opportunity...I don't know, it's just the timing of it--"

You cut him off, “well none of this is ideal timing, Harry.”

“Do you mean with my album?”

“I mean with any of it,” you said truthfully. “The album, the job offer--”

“Well the album existed before the job offer,” he trailed off.

Only a matter of seconds and a handful of words had managed to get you elevated and angry and ready to fight. That was happening more easily, these days.

“So what am I supposed to do? Always come second? Make every decision in my life based off of your career and your music?”

“S’not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that--I dunno--I thought you knew what you were getting into.”

Quiet, your hands gripped the counter in your bathroom. Your bare feet were on the floor and you wondered why you were trying so hard to make everything work if things were only getting harder.

“That came out wrong,” he shook his head, the look on his face let you know he wanted to take it back.

“No, it didn’t." You let out a sharp laugh. "I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Take the job,” he said quickly, like he saw you reaching for the button to end the FaceTime call.

“What?”

“Take it. If it’ll make you happy, take it.”

“And what about us?”

“We figure it out,” he shrugged. “We try.”

You sighed, unsure what to say.

"It's Los Angeles," he said. "Not Antarctica."

You blew air between your lips, looked up at him for a second. The curl of hair that dipped onto his forehead, the way his mouth pulled up in the corner like it always had.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

His words didn’t offer any relief and you spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning and wondering how on earth you were supposed to make a decision.

Leaving him in London felt stupid. A few bumps in the road and you were ready to jump ship?

But staying and hoping for a ring or a shared address felt even stupider, somehow. You couldn’t pass up a dream job and hope that things would go well for your career if you weren’t going to work for it.

A few hours of rest came after 3am, your morning coffee was a tad bitter and the clouds in the sky seemed to match your mood. Maybe you should have spent more time thinking it over, talking it out, even calling your mum or Katie for advice.

But you couldn’t have told everyone about the job offer without a certain answer, and unfortunately, the person you wanted to talk to the most didn’t seem like he could be impartial.

You’d been upset, you’d been feeling disconnected from him, but that didn’t erase all of the good times and the happy memories you’d made, right?

Naomi and Tyler locked themselves in your office for lunch on Friday, they promised that they’d never tell your boss and they swore they supported you either way. Tyler used an expo marker to make a pros and cons list of staying in London and Naomi came up with a points system for each bullet on the list.

You stared at it, looked at the names of all of your friends, your family, your favorite cafes and restaurants in London. At the very bottom of what had become a long list of reasons to stay was his name.

And on the other side, Tyler’s poor drawing of an engagement ring sat beside a big question mark.

You didn’t know what the future held for you and Harry, and maybe that was okay. You didn’t know what would happen when you packed your life into a suitcase and moved to New York, but you’d survived to tell the tale.

They were quiet, eyes darting from the board back to you as they waited for you to say something.

You sighed, Tyler shifted on the couch in your office and Naomi smoothed out her blouse.

“I can’t take it,” you said.

Tyler’s eyes went wide, “really? You’re staying?”

“I can’t leave,” you shrugged. “I can’t leave him behind and leave my friends and start all over in a new city right as I’m really finding my groove here again.”

“Okay, I know we said we’d support you either way but I would have been fucking pissed if you went,” Tyler admitted, moving closer to wrap his arms around you.

You laughed, let him squeeze you before Naomi joined in.

“Me too,” she confessed, a smile on her face when she pulled away. “But I would have at least faked happy for you.”

You bit back the doubt and second-guessing, used their excitement to fuel a regretful email.

Thank you so much for the opportunity, but after careful consideration I cannot accept this position due to the geographical location.

Your thumb hovered over the small blue arrow, a wave of panic flooded through you when you hit send, like somehow, something inside of you knew that everything was about to change.

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AN: apologies in advance for the cliffhanger......except I'm not sorry lmao

[saintshigaraki]

when you break my heart, do it softly

pairing: gender neutral reader x dabi 

work count: 1.5k

excerpt: A rather large part of you wonders if maybe you should’ve seen this coming. The other part of you knows that even if you had, it probably wouldn’t have changed a thing. You loved him a bit too much to walk away before you absolutely had to. 

a/n: it’s not like. super relevant but this is an au where dabi is not a wanted villain. 

tags: cheating, angst, hurt/comfort, hopeful ending, SOFT DABI

in case you’d rather read it on ao3!

A rather large part of you wonders if maybe you should’ve seen this coming. The other part of you knows that even if you had, it probably wouldn’t have changed a thing. You loved him a bit too much to walk away before you absolutely had to. 

Dabi hadn’t ever seemed like the commitment sort of guy anyway, not since the first moment you met him when he had been incessantly flirting with you and two other girls at the same bar you were trying and failing to manage. It was your first night on the job and it was a seedy place crawling with even seedier people but you needed the money and work was work. 

At least that’s what you told yourself when Dabi’s flirting got more and more annoying. It was hard to focus with him breathing down your fucking neck. You told him as much. You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth because while you don’t know who he is, an awfully annoying voice in the back of your head whispered perhaps you shouldn’t piss off the scarred up man who just minutes ago was demonstrating just how hot his flames can get. 

You and Dabi stood completely still and silent for a few long seconds, an uncapped beer freezing through your palm and his glowing blue eyes narrowed and burning straight through your skull. 

The urge to trip over your words and backtrack was almost impossible to ignore, almost. But you had shit to do and this job was already stressing you the fuck out and you’re two seconds away from being evicted so this needs to work out so it would be nice if he backed the fuck off for just a single second. 

So, instead of groveling at his feet, you stuck your chin out, took a deep breath and calmly said, “Look, you’re very, very attractive, and trust me, at any other time I’d be so flattered and into this, but it’s my first night and I’m struggling just a bit so can you please give me a minute.”

He was silent for a few seconds before his lips curled up into an awfully too pleased and cocky smile revealing a pair of shockingly white teeth and weirdly sharp canines. 

“You think I’m hot, doll?” 

The tension between you two melted completely.

You groaned but only to hide the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. 

(He saw it anyway.

Later, in the early hours of the morning, he asked for your number. You gave it to him because you were a little dumb and he was a little too beautiful and surprisingly funny in a strange morbid violent lovely sort of way. 

You thought this is dangerous. Not necessarily because he was dangerous-though you didn’t doubt that he most definitely was- but because as he smiled down at you with his crooked grin that made him look more boyish than villainous, you thought that’d he’d be so, so easy to fall in love with. And that he’d break your heart for it. 

You were right, of course. But fuck if it didn’t hurt all the same because of it) 

+

A year and a half later, standing in you and Dabi’s shared apartment, you’re forced to see the truth in your own damning words. 

He had stripped off his shirt, getting ready for bed and for as strong as you’d like to believe you are, you can’t contain the wounded sound that escapes your mouth before you clamp your lips together. 

He whips around but the damage is done. There are claw marks down his back, ones you most definitely had not left. 

You both stare at each other, something so heavy and awful hanging in the space between you two. 

Vaguely, it reminds you of the night you and Dabi met. Though thinking about that does nothing but rub salt in the wound, so you push it away and bury it deep. 

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. 

“I love you, Dabi. I want you to know that. I love you so much. And I always will.”

The words are so heartbreakingly true. 

You actually did end up getting evicted after that fateful night at the bar and even though you and Dabi had been dating for only 4 months at that point, he’d offered you his home and let you get back on your feet before paying rent. He knew exactly how to comfort you on the days where everything felt a bit too much like it was caving in, and you had held him as he sobbed so hard he’d heaved, more times than you could count. 

You had seen the worst and best in each other. Bared your wounds so sweetly at such a formative time in your lives. How could you not love him? How could you not care for him for the rest of your life? 

Of course, it hurt that he’d fucked another person, it broke your heart so completely, but the idea of being mad, of screaming at him, and throwing shit and causing a mess didn’t even cross your mind, because deep down, you thought, perhaps it is time to move on. Perhaps you both need something different right now. 

You had gotten a job offer in America some time ago and you hadn’t taken it because of Dabi. Because you loved him and he was here. You had recently gotten an email that it was still on the table. It’d be a good opportunity for you. A great one actually. 

It was time to move on, you realized. To grow as people, separately. 

Dabi is the one to drive you to the airport. It’s a little strange, you’ll admit, but everything about what happened post the claw marks incident was a little strange. You’d stayed in his apartment after everything. Three weeks of skin-crawling awkwardness tinged with unspoken hurt. 

It didn’t feel awkward now, though. As he stood outside his car with his hands in his pockets staring at you like you’re bound to turn to dust if he looks away. 

You set your suitcase down gently and approach him, until you’re mere inches apart. He says nothing. You don’t either. 

Instead, you wrap your arms around him and hug him. He’s stone still and just as you’re about to let go he returns it so tightly that you’re nearly crushed against his chest. You can’t help but laugh a little. His hold has always been a bit painful (but only in the sweetest way). 

“I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. 

You laugh again, light and sweet because you love him as well. So much it hurts. 

“I love you, too.”

+

A few weeks after getting to America you change your number and don’t tell Dabi. Because even though you love him, you think you might hate him a little too. And you’d rather let it go before hate is all you have of him. 

+

You return to Japan a year and a half later. They offered you a transfer and you took it. Going to America was an important and needed step in your life, but in your bones, you feel the truth of it. It’s time to go home. 

+

The night you land back in Japan, you go to the same bar you met Dabi in. Partly for the nostalgia, partly because you did genuinely love your boss, but mostly because you knew you’d get a discount. 

You’re on your second vodka and coke when he comes in. You don’t even have to turn around to know. You feel it deep in your chest, a sweet ache in your bones. 

He sits next to you and for a moment neither of you say anything. Not until you turn to look at him. At first glance, it’s as though nothing has changed about him. Same jacket, same dyed hair, same scars, but something in his eyes is different. Older, maybe, though it’s only been a year. And he holds himself a bit differently as well. 

You like it. 

You tell him as much. 

He gives you that same too-pleased cocky smile that you first saw what felt like lifetimes ago. 

“You think I’m hot, doll?”

You groan to hide a smile tugging at the corner of your lip. 

He sees it anyway. 

You wonder if history really is bound to repeat itself. But you look at him and all his minute differences, and think, maybe not. And perhaps you’re too hopeful, and maybe a little dumb, but when you walk out of the bar with him and he gives you that boyish smile, you’re not as sure that he’ll break your heart this time around. 

And when he’s kissing his way down your neck and whispering, I love you, I love you, I love you, like a prayer, and his tears leave a trail on your skin, it’s hard to not return the sentiment. 

You love him. Of course you do. How could you not? 

You tell him as much. 

Perhaps this is a mistake. Perhaps it isn’t. Loving someone is always a risk, sometimes it feels like you’re setting your heart up to be broken. 

But, this is worth the risk, you think. It always has been. 

[yandere-wishes]

⭐Yandere Joestars⭐

(Parts 1-7 + Bonus Charcter: Joseph and Johnny’s characterizations are based off @dear-yandere​ ‘s interperations) I tried to write this mostly in the Joestars' POV. Their respective darlings resemble lifelike dolls rather than human beings to further illustrate how out of touch with reality the Jojos have become.

Warnings: Gore, kidnapping, dehumanization.

Edited: By the amazing Peri!! (@tealyjade-libran )

⭐Jonathan Joestar is possessive. ⭐

It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it...

It's an old saying, one that Jonathan remembers from an antique storybook his mother use to read him. It didn't mean anything back then, when he was still an infant too young and new, to fully comprehend what "owning" and "losing" was. But as the years ticked by faster than any clock could keep track of, things started to change. What had once been a passing quote in a chivalrous story about knights and dragons, soon turned into the epitome of Jonathan Joestar's life. 

Soon love wasn't about saving a princess or impressing the neighborhood girls with his boxing skills. No, all too soon love became about own and guarding. 

There may have been a time -long before "Jojo" and Dio met- when Jonathan was just like any other gentleman. Tender and sweet, flirtish at gatherings and charming in ladies' companies...but that was a Jonathan from a could-be-past that had been demolished the minute Dio Brando stepped foot onto the Joestar estate. From then on things depleted all so quickly. Everything Jonathan had come to unconsciously cherished had been so easily stripped from him by his beloved new "brother". 

Everything he loved had been killed, destroyed, or broken in some inhuman way. His friends had abandoned him, his lover had distorted him, his father didn't even notice him...

"It's only when you lose something, that you start to cherish it". The second time he hears that phrase, it freezes him to the pavement, his body star-struck like he just received a message from the heavens. Although it's rather peculiar, why "heaven" would convey a message to him in such an unholy place. 

With Dio having practically kicked Jonathan out of the mansion and countryside. Jojo had no other place to go but the back allies of London. Sure he still tried to be home for supper and bedtime and any other time his father may get an inkling of his absence. But when there was no need to 'appear' Jonathan took to the London streets away from Dio and his lackeys. 

In fate's bizarre game, it's in a backstreet that reeks of days old licker and rotting flesh of paupers that no one has bothered to bury. That Jojo hears that life-defining idiom once more. His dulling sapphire blue eyes follow the mist of those melodious words. Staring until they're practically itching to cut through his sockets and run after those little words. But they stop right before they can leave their eyelets, they stop and stare at the figure that strolls out of the shadows, in such a way, that would make Jojo's father slap him across the face for being "barbarous".  

It's luck or fate or maybe even destiny that leads the heir of the Joestar legacy to meet his darling in the slums of England. 

"How my heart resonates when I lay my weary eyes on your enchanting face..."

There's an odd sweetness about the naivety that surrounds his little friend. A sort of innocence that comes with not knowing about the hell that he's gone through. It's charming in a moderate way, his darling can't come to despise him if they haven't got a clue who he is. Keeping both his worlds as far apart as possible is really the only option left. Dio and his friends can't hurt his new friend? Lover? Companion? In actuality, Jonathan really doesn't know what you are to him. At first, you're merely a distraction from his crumbling, lonely shell of an existence. A sort of invisible pillar holding up London's bridge before it collapses into the  River Thames. Sure he views you as another person, unlike the other noblemen Jonathan has no desire to treat you as anything less than a respectable young lady despite your social statutes. 

 Dio can have the noblemen and ladies, he can have all of George's affection and favor, Heck Dio can have the whole goddamn world for all Jonathan cares. So long as he has his darling, his sunflower, his only means for living, then he will be content. 

Jojo lost everything he once loved, but he swears it to every star in the night sky that'll preserve his darling from the wickedness that runs this cruel world. He'll cherish her while she's still in his arms...

He'll protect her, just like the knights did in the old bedtime stories his mother would tell him. 

"...I swear on my honor as a Joestar that I shall never lose you to the likes of anyone, I'll be a true gentleman, a true knight and I'll protect you from any who wishes cause you harm."

⭐Joseph Joestar is Protective and all so patronizing.⭐

Why must Love hurt so much?

It's solitude, pure utter solitude that attracts Joseph to his darling. Oh sure, he must have known them from an earlier time in his life, back when the words Hammon and Ripple just sounded like fancy dessert names. Back when he was still a naive kid wishing on every goddamn star that he could just meet one of his parents for a fraction of a second. Back when life was easy when everything made sense. That's when he first met his darling. Although all so many years ago he probably just thought of them as the little sister he never got a chance of having. 

There's a numbness growing inside him now that his life has slipped off its axes, hurling into unknown darkness that plagues him in the form of Pillarmen and red gems. 

Everywhere he looks there's a reminder that nothing's going back to the way it used to be. No waking up to Granny Erina's voice calling him down for breakfast, no running around chasing Old Man Speedwagon. Everything is gone, replaced by Lisa Lisa's brutal training and Ceaser's endless taunting. 

Day by day nothing changes, but once he looks back every little thing is different. Ruptured and mangled into something unrecognizable. 

But then there's his darling. Someone -or rather something- that's still the same. Just like before. Her smile is still the same as ever, bright and cheery as she runs up to him wrapping her arms around his abdomen muttering about how much she missed her "Dear Big Brother".

(Y/N) is a comfort, a familiarity in a strange new world. She's something so frail and vulnerable, not to mention naive. Thrusted into a world where horror writers don't dare venture into. It's so likely that she'd be captured by one of Kar's zombie vampire things or -even worse- charmed by Caesar’s silver tongue. 

It's thoughts like these that haunt Joseph at night, keep him up and wandering into her room just to gaze at her sleeping form. He's lucid enough to know how it might look. Like he's the bad guy trying to take advantage of a defenseless little girl. But he can justify his actions, he's her big brother, he has to watch over especially when she's at her most vulnerable. If Ceaser ever tried anything or some vampire freak snatched her away in the dead of night, Joseph would never forgive himself!

But what does he get for all his efforts? What does he get for all his sleepless nights and hours upon hours of worrying? Just a small smile and a fleeting kiss on the cheek. No sincere, "Thank you big brother," or, "You're my hero Joseph!" Nothing, nothing worthwhile anyway. 

Now it's a competition, a battle to the death if it has to be -funny how he takes this more seriously than his match against Wamuu.- He's competitive by nature and he's willing to do anything to earn his darling's affection once more. He doesn't care who he has to beat within an inch of their life so long as he can have his darling back in his arms.

There is an aftermath to all of these, once all the fighting has ended and the battle's won. Once Joseph has finally claimed his prize. There's a certain way his darling has to act. She’s got to smile and play the role of the dotting little sister once more. Just so Joseph can justify his actions...

"And your next line is, 'I love you more than anything else big brother Joseph!'...at least I wish it was." 

⭐Jotaro Kujo is cold and sadistic.⭐

Never learned how to love...

A lover by Jotaro's book is nothing more than a walking, talking doll. Someone who cooks meals, irons clothes, and kisses him on the cheek before he leaves for the day. Sure they have other uses, in flares of passionate moments, they're something to hold onto, another pair of limbs to get tangled in. Something hot and solid, someone to push down, to weigh his force on. 

That's it, that's all there is to it...

A lover and a convenient toy are one of the same. 

He knows it's wrong to think about someone that way. To deprive a living thing of all their thoughts and feelings just so it's suitable for him. But at the end of the day who wants to hear idle chatter and gossip or go outside for walks in crowded areas. All too social, it's all so troublesome. All Jotaro wants is a closed-off life, away from the scums of the earth...away from people in general. 

It's such an inconvenience to seek out a lover, to hassle through dates and meetups in hopes of finding someone that clicks. Jojo would even go so far as to call it wishful thinking. So it has to be a pure accident that he even meets his darling. They're just someone who gets tangled in with the crusaders. A perfect living perception of 'wrong place, wrong time'. Someone who's life gets blown to bits and shambles just because fate decided to play a cruel joke on them. 

And that's what piqued Jotaro's interest. The desperate, depleted look of pain cemented over their face. The sparse dying gleam of determination that blazes within their eyes. Oh, what Jotaro wouldn't do to snuff that little ray of hope. To watch as what little purpose they have is ripped from their arms. What he wouldn't do to see them in pain...

Pain is submission, that's really all Jojo wants. A darling submits, not out of their own free will, but because every little thing they've ever loved has been slaughtered, all that they cherished has been stolen from them. 

But it's not enough 

It's never enough

Although Jotaro adores the looks of anguish that decorates his lover's face. There's something more satisfying about maltreating them. About leaving marks all over, about leaving bruises that never lose their violet glow. He's claiming his darling, physically and mentally. Not a single day goes that Jotaro doesn't remind his lover who they belong to. From verbal taunts that plague his darling's mind day and night, to punches that break bones leaving them paralyzed on the floor begging for help, to cuts that are just a little too deep to ever heal properly. 

Even when his darling is behaving, even when the poor little thing does everything her lover tells her to do, there's still going to be some sort of violence directed at her. Some backhanded remark about how useless they are just because they couldn't follow his mother's recipe. Some sort of blow just for greeting him 'too late'. Trivial things morph into punishments, just for Jotaro's sick amusement.

At his core, Jotaro is an unresponsive man, one with no regard for how others feel. He's distant, it's a trait he can't change. He likes how he does things, how there's no room for slip-ups when it's only him. Even his darling isn't someone he'd consider opening up to. Their opinion of him doesn't matter and their feelings are irrelevant. Most days he's gone until the last possible moment, leaving his darling an endless amount of time to mull over every word and scar. 

But here's the catch.

As the clock ticks by, as the nights and days begin to merge into an endless existence, as all hope burns in the pits of hell, darling's mind is also going to stray. Ever so slowly losing its perception of reality. 

'Maybe' spiders begin to spin webs of doubt through darling's empty cranium. The isolation begins to bite at her skin like the razor-sharp fangs of frostbite. They start to crave Jotaro's harsh touches, they start to miss the venom-like words. Every insult and slap to the face is welcomed, all the misplaced anger and death threats start to feel like sweet kisses and flowery touches. 

Poor darling no longer sees big scary Jotaro as a monster. They've lost the ability to see him for what he truly is.

And what happens when Jotaro does finally come home? Oh, how little (y/n) will ravish in the gut kicks and loathsome words. How she'll take every beating with a sweet sugar-coated smile.

Cause this is her life now. A meaningless existence that revolves around Jotaro and his bleak personality. A life that's only worth living when Jotaro is around.

Is it even a life?

"Yare yare daze you're such a hassle, be glad I keep you around...”

⭐Josuke is obsessive with delusional tendencies.⭐

Maybe I'm the one you'll fall in love with next...

Just like his "father" Joseph, Josuke is stuck in a perpetual state between diaphanous and phantasm.

There's something all too wrong with Morioh nowadays. The narrow streets and verbose buildings have started to feel like a transparent cage. The town has always been small, barely reaching a population of 3,000 despite all the new families that keep moving in.

Nevertheless, everything has dulled, faded, and withered into a monochrome collage. The layers of repetitiveness had finally begun to pick at Joskue's nerves...

And yet somehow, by some diabolical twist of fate. In the mists of the oceans of familiarity, Josuke’s eyes grab onto some shimmering pearl lounged into between the crowd of familiar faces. 

Sure he's seen this girl before, but he's never actually seen her. Never stopped to look at the odd way their eyes twinkle like newborn stars or how their skin shimmers with the glow of a thousand suns. 

One second is all it took, a fleeting compliment as you passed by Jojo in the peppermint flavored afternoon. Your hair flowing like a tapestry of the galaxy as you disappeared in the crowd of dead pulsars. Not a care in the world, not for him, not for anyone.  

Destiny was definitely up to its old cruel tricks again. 

He's not stalking. Josuke will swear on his grandfather's grave that he'd never "stalk" a harmless little girl, like some distorted maniac. He just happens to bump into you at the beauty parlor when he's picking up a new brand of hairspray. And it's totally an accident when he meets you out in the abandoned fields! Honest! It's not his fault fate wants the two of you to keep meeting, it's not his fault that you guys are meant to be!

It's not technically a friendship that you two start to build up, it's far from one. Friends don't dream about sugar-filled kisses behind school walls. Or about ice cream that tastes like scandalous touches and candy induced moans. No, Joskue isn't your friend, he NEVER wanted to be your friend. He knows that! He knows what he wants...but with each passing day, he's beginning to doubt that you know that. 

He'd never realized he's been so sensitive on you. So entranced by your out of tune voice that muttered rather than spoke. He's seldom been so eager to throw a punch and crack his knuckles on someone's skull, just for saying you looked "lovely today". 

Whenever his eyes don't land on you, a rage-filled volcano bubbles in the pit of his gut, uncontrollable anger that festers inside of him, like lava waiting to spill out and burn anyone that wanders too close. His palms itch with the need to hold you, to feel your soft skin rubbing against his. 

The jealousy is always there, pricking at his skin like rose thrones. Until they inevitably cut through his flesh and make him lose his composure. He's ready to kick and punch and hurt and kill anyone that comes too close to you, anyone that saunters off their orbit and makes a beeline for you, disturbing the balance of solitude that Josuke so eagerly sets you into.

Sometimes in the dead of night, when the world has finally dozed off, Joskue's mind begins to wonder. He thinks the way he feels about you is the same way an addict feels about his drugs. Maybe to him, you're even more addicting than heroin and ecstasy...and yet he can't quit you, he just doesn't want to quit you. Nothing in this world could compare to your sweet voice that tickles his ear when you lean in, to whisper a secret, or the may your full lips move when you throw another honey-filled insult at him. 

He prefers when you're alone when he's the only one you talk to. 

Sure there are exceptions like everything in life, although in the end  

there's a sort of backhanded irony.

It's those exceptions that are going to hurt him in the. 

Josuke trusts his friends, he knows that Okuyasu and Koichi would never do anything to hurt him...

But you're not on that list and to be fair you're surely the only one who can truly hurt him.

You fall for a friend of his. Not him, not the boy that's been driving himself insane just to earn a smile from you, not the boy that let you get away with insulting his hair and poking insults at his look, not him never him, it just can't be him.

"You're like an older brother to me"...Did you wash your mouth with acid before you spat those words at him? Did you intend to lace your words with knives and blades and rubbing alcohol before you stabbed him? It's figurative, sure. But it might as well be literal. No pain, no cut, no punch from any stand would ever hurt so much! You really don't know what you do to him, do you?

"I'm happy for you," it's a lie, blank and simple. Automatic words that he's practiced in the mirror a thousand and one times. He'd rather watch you suffocate on your own blood than in the arms of another man. He'd rather break every bone in your body than watch you kiss one of his friends. 

How on earth had he ever come to love you? Someone as cruel and cold. Were you even human? You resembled some ice stand more than a flesh and blood person. HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM.

He really hadn't meant for it to become an addiction, he hadn't meant to get all so used to the crunch of bones beneath his foot, and the bloodied lips quivering, shuttering out apologizes for having the gall to utter your name in his presence. But there's only so much a teenage boy can take, only so much torture that he can bury inside with a moonlight smile. 

Addictions really do funny things to semi-sane people, huh?

It's a split-second decision, done in the heat of an all so regular moment. It's just a simple half-hearted punch when you beat him at another videogame. Then another

And another

And another

Then a crack, another and another, and before either of you knew it you're on the floor screaming out in pure agony. 

Josuke vows he's not being cruel when he breaks your bones so delicately. He can justify every crack, every fracture. Although it's rather repetitive and in certain cases borderline petty. 

Five broken bones on your left leg just for "kissing" your new boyfriend. Your right leg is bent at an angle you're sure it's not meant to be. All because you hugged said new lover before going to class. 

Josuke's once liquidy blue eyes that held the softness of clouds have been dulled over by a sort of thick mania. His once soft touch is nothing but nails digging into already bruised tissue. His lips wobbling as stray tears flow past his eyes. Muttering apologies and stuttering curses at both you and himself.

It's not really like his darling can leave after that incident. Josuke is known around town as the boy with a diamond heart. There's no way in hell anyone will believe what he did to you. It's just better, safer, to stick close to him, to swallow the indignities and paint a loving smile over your face when you gaze into his depraved eyes. 

It's better to pretend to love him, rather than have another limb broken...

"Come on (Y/N), it's just a little crack. If you promise to give me a tiny kiss I'll let Crazy Diamond fix you right up."

⭐Giorno Giovanna is sneaky and manipulative. ⭐

Sono pazzo di te. Sei la cosa più bella che mi sia mai capitata...

There's a sleekness to Giorno, a cunning that's hidden behind layers of charisma and charm mimicking that of his birth father's. It's so easy for him to fool his darling into believing that he's a charming prince from a storybook. He's the good guy trying all so damn hard to make his dream a reality. He's admirable, he's noble, he's Giorno Giovana, the golden boy.  

It's not like he ever intends to hurt his darling. He'd never dream of laying a hand on them, he's all too familiar with the wounds that come from endless beatings. The bruises and phantom pains, that get worse as the days slip by. He knows real pain, and unlike all so many others on both sides of his family, Giorno doesn't want his lover to experience an uncia of it. 

He'd never repeat what his stepfather and mother did to him. He's going to try and do everything he can to make sure that his darling is safe...

Because isn't that what's important? To make sure the one you love is safe. To make sure they don't get swept off their feet by some masquerading drunkard or taken advantage of by some fanciful sadist. 

Giorno will do anything to keep his darling safe, even if it means tampering with their mind a little. Nothing too serious, he'd never even considered changing anything about them. Although isolating them isn't completely off the table and a few verbal threats are fine from time to time. Just for precaution...

Giorno is a rather determined boy, he'll go to any lengths to isolate his lover. Scaring away friends by letting Gold Experience give them a small out of body experience. If they're persistent then he can't guarantee that that out-of-body experience will simply remain an experience much longer. It's not out of malice, but it's what must be done for the sake of his darling, the only other thing he cares about.

There's a shift, a difference between the young naive Giorno Giovanna, the golden boy with starry eyes, and the new boss of Passione, the Mafioso who holds the whole country in the palm of his hand. 

Oh sure, as a simple Soldato Giorno was dangerous in his own right. But Don Giorno? He's the sort of monster written about in the grimmest fairy tales. Wearing the appearance of a true king but underneath the luxury suits and priceless watches, he's just another greedy, fire-breathing dragon.

As the Don of Italy's most influential gang, Giorno's manipulation tactics have gotten rather ....hazardous. He doesn't have time to waste getting rid of every single person that poses a threat to his darling. If someone looks their way, he'll send some goons to take care of them. 

Although it's so much easier to keep his lover locked away, he even has the perfect excuse now. He's the head of the mafia, he has all so many enemies who jump at the opportunity to hurt him in some way. So he has to keep his defenseless little lover locked away in some mansion that's all so far away. 

He's also a bit more violent now. Giorno's more physical, ready to break a bone just for a wrong word or a cracked jaw from a punch for even asking to go outside. He blames it on the stress of running an organization...although it's more likely that all the power from passion has begun to rinse away Giorno's caring side. 

"Cuore mio, Resta con me per sempre"

⭐Jolyne Kujo is clingy and obsessive and delusional.⭐

I can't stay away from you...

Jolyne is a rather condescending yandere. Her rough ragged exterior does little to hide the clingy neediness that writhes inside her shattered heart.

She's soft, dependent, desperate at best. Wanting her darling to approve of every tiny trifling thing she does. Needing their words of praise and approving smiles to have the courage to live another day. 

At times it seems like the only thing keeping Jojo alive is the  "good girl!" and "I'm proud of you!" her darling throws her way. Chanting the words of praise with closed eyes and fluttering smiles of anxiety. 

It's difficult to make her sweetheart realize how virulent this relationship is, far too hard to call Jolyne a Yandere. The derogatory term applies to someone who ceases all control from their lover, who locks them in a basement, and throws away the key. It applies to murders and 

stalkers and lunatics that roam the streets in the dead of full moon nights. It applies to those who were thrown into Green Dolphin for a reason.

 Not to some girl whose life has been demolished over and over and over again. 

Not to the girl with a star birthmark that follows her darling around like a lost puppy in the freezing rain. 

But even Jolyn has her limits. She's been let down time and time again, abandoned and framed by those she thought she loved unconditionally. From friends to boyfriends to even her own father, everyone leaves, they take what they want, and then they leave. 

Flesh like strings, stitched into a web of antithesis and distraught moods, act as a  solid, interchangeable reminder of who really holds the power in this relationship. Of how Jolyne can go from needing her darling to controlling her darling in just a fraction of a heartbeat. She loves them, she swears she does...but they need to stay close to her, they need to only think about her. 

Her addiction gets worse as the days tick by. It's less romantic, less loving. Morphing into a dependency, a compulsion. Rotting thoughts of her darling suddenly leaving, plague her every waking moment. The once semi pleasant conversations between her lover and her friends, get cut off like a severed limb. 

Even Hermes and Foo Fighters aren't "good enough" to be around Jolyne’s lover. She's all so, scared they'll try to take them from her. Stealing the ONLY good thing in her life.

There's a certain degree of control that Jolyne's willing to give to her darling. A sort of freedom to make, revolting appalling choices, so long as they include her. A freedom to boss her around and make her submit. Her darling is free, so long as that freedom revolves around Jolyne.

"(Y/N)~ don't look at them! You should only focus on me! I'm supposed to be your world!"

⭐Johnny Joestar is sadistic and manipulative.⭐

Arrogance disguised as affection...

It's all degradation, all harsh words that sting worse than bullet wounds. Glares from dull wicked blue eyes that might as well kill, cause it's better than the alternative. Smirks that make being alive so damn distasteful. Kisses that engrave the lingering taste of rotting lead into your tongue.

Johnny isn't sweet, he doesn't smile at his little sweetheart. He doesn't pat their head and kiss their temples while uttering sweet nothings into their blushing ear. No, his lover doesn't deserve a honey-coated life. They don't deserve to have what was stolen from him by his so-called "loved ones". Instead, he uses them as a living dart board, for both his acid-laced words and bullet-like fingernails. 

There's no love when it comes to Jojo. He doesn't want to waste time on something so frivolous as a "significant other". But he does like having someone -or rather something- to play with, a form of entertainment that bends at his will. Not a pushover, not someone who's too proud either. But a living doll that can take a few verbal spats and survive an armada of fingernail bullets through the stomach. 

Oh, sure he wants to break them, having a toy that's so conflicted, that questions their own sanity is so much more fun. But it's the intervals that count. Johnny wants to be the one to break his darling. To engrave the helpless look of distress into his memory. He wants to preserve every scream, every tear. That's the whole purpose of even keeping a darling. 

Johnny rarely lets his darling out of his sight. It's so much easier to play with their mind if he's the only one they ever talk to. They'll become so easily dependent on him if he's their only companion. Although sometimes Gyro can get a little too touchy and friendly. And there will be occasions when Hot Pants start to pry into the darling and Jojo's personal life. But the incidents are few and far between. Not like Johnny minds, if anything these minor secondary "meetups" are useful to the paraplegic jockey. They refill his darling with the most precious thing..." Hope". Just so Johnny can beat it out of them all over again.  

There's a darkness that resides deep within Johnny. A toxicity that laces his actions. His life is miserable and he's damn well sure it'll always be that way.....

So why not take his lover down with him?

"Don't you love me darlin' ? Cause I certainly don't love ya."

⭐Jorge Joestar is delusional and obsessive.⭐

What if we lost our minds, together?

A love story better than his parents, that's all Jorge wants. Flower field dates, and quick lingering kisses before midnight. Something sweet, that doesn't have a macabre end. A romance without body-snatching vampires and zombies that shed their flesh. Something normal, gentle, lovable. 

Although with the family he's been born into and the kind of things that keep finding him. Jorge doubts he's ever going to get such a hopeful love life. He's all so desperate to carve a life for himself outside of his family's shadow, but in the end, it's simply eager wishing. 

He's not exactly sure what he's even looking for in a lover. Someone sweet but strong-willed, an average answer. Someone who bears a sort of resemblance to Lisa Lisa. Not physically but rather mentally, he's not a coward, he swears he's not, but he just wants someone who can protect him. A fair exchange in his eyes. His lover will guard him against the bullies and freaks of the island and in turn, he'll protect them from the grim ghouls that run amok through the world. Although when push comes to shove he isn't sure if he'll really be 'protecting' his lover or running away and hiding somewhere with them.

He just wants to fall in love and not go insane, a reasonable request, if he hadn't seen the worst that the world has to offer. It's just wishful thinking, sweet dreams for a boy designed to attract trouble. 

He doesn't want to have conversations with his dead lover's head. He doesn't want to wear their skin and waltz around town. He doesn't want any of that creepy, supernatural stuff that destroyed his parent's love. 

He just wants normal. But as the years slip by Jorge's grip on "normal" slowly begins to decay.

Normal is something, but what that something is has become a blur. Normal isn't vampires and zombies and ghost clowns that throw nooses around people's necks...Yet on the other hand maybe it is? 

He's so far gone that he can't even differentiate between methodical and irregular. His brain's capacity to understand the difference has gotten so altered and broken.

Once he finds his darling he does try to act like the ordinary people of the Canary Islands or England, depending on where he's residing at the time. He tries to follow the mode, just to impress his lover. It's a façade, a bloody masquerade that's bound to deteriorate once he and his lover have settled down.

Although a poetic, domestic life had always been Jorge's dream, he soon comes to learn that it just doesn't suit him. Jorge's paranoia starts to increase. It's comical at first, the way his eyes dart to closed doors, half expecting a killer to emerge. Although the same paranoid tendencies can become rather smothering at times. He's all so certain something is going to jump out of the shadows, some creature with sharp fangs and knife-like claws is going to rip his lover's body to rags. 

He's gotten rather umbrageous now that he's the one who's married and living in the Joestar estate. His tendency to run away from any form of conflict has morphed into a rogue-like sense, much similar to a rabid dog barking at anyone who gets too close to its territory. He keeps his darling locked away inside, triple-checking the locks to make sure no one or thing can get in. He avoids the probing disquieting neighbors who still speak ill of his widowed mother and murmurs about the "curses" bestowed on the Joestar bloodline. Sometimes even getting physical when the insults shift towards him and his new lover. 

Punches are thrown.

Insults exchanged.

And then the door and windows are locked once more.

Leaving both Jorge and his darling in the chilling company of the semi alive shadows.

It's safer in the basement. It has to be safer down there. After all his mother kept his father's severed head down there for decades before anyone found it. So it's only sensible that his lover will also be safe, tucked away in the darkness of a brick room some few meters under the earth. He's not acting like his mother -and deep down he prays that this isn't something his late father would ever even consider doing- It's a thin line of justification, but he can reason with himself so long as he knows it's not something his other family members have ever done. He does try to keep his darling comfortable down there. Buying them the most luxurious furniture and comfortable bedding. Constantly bringing them new forms of entertainment. 

Keeping them in this preserved state is what any reasonable person would do. Not just another insanity driven Joestar.

"It's for your own safety" he's repeated that phrase an umpteenth amount of times, although every time the sculpted words leave his tongue, Jorge becomes less sure of who he's really trying to convince. 

Jorge is all so sure that he's doing all of this for both his lover's safety and to erase whatever misfortune follows around the Joestars, like an airy plague. Even his enrolling for the great war is done with this mindset...

Even though in the end it's also this mindset that gets him killed. Leaving his darling a wide window to freedom. 

"Darling, what do you think when you look at me?"

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

[creativeashproductions]

Lost Time // Luke Patterson

Summary: Things changed since Sunset Curve fell apart literally as three out of four members died before a gig. Leaving a sad girl behind Luke by chance runs into the reader with someone else. Death tore the couple apart, and time can’t fix this.

Warning: Talk of death, depression, angst and fluff

Words: 2.2k

Might as well join the Julie and the Phantoms fan club!

*For the sake of the story the time frame has been altered, it takes place in the mid-2000s. Also! I tried to make the reader as generalized as I could to make sure that everyone can relate. The reader is Alex’s sister, for inclusion that can be biological, adopted, half or stepsiblings. I want to make sure all people can be the reader.

Masterlist

THIS IS FROM MY SECONDARY BLOG! REPOST!!

The 1990s was definitely some of the best years of your life watching your brother grow more comfortable in his identity. Alex had kept his sexuality secret, taking the frustration of the secret by learning how to play the drums. You would often be found curled on the chair listening to his growing talent; Alex was a great brother.

Alex found friends in three local boys Reggie, Bobby and Luke, even a little more than friends with Luke briefly. By 1991 the boys had formed a band Sunset Curve with each other and a loyal fan in you. By mid-1994 the band had a fanbase and some gigs, but playing The Orpheum was the goal.

Luke had admitted to Alex, he had feelings for you, and with a lot of encouragement from Alex, he approached you. Luke had been focused on music since his parents gave him his first guitar, so relationships weren’t even on the backburner.

“Hey.” Luke spoke, pressing a kiss to your cheek backstage, “Missed you.”

His hair tickled your skin, bringing a bright smile from the teenage boy and a deep blush from you, private time wasn’t as often as it once had been. After Luke’s fallout with his parents a few months back, he had couch surfed between Reggie and Alex’s rooms; he wasn’t allowed in yours.

“You saw me last night.”

“A monumental time.” Luke bent his bend to place a lingering kiss on your bare shoulder, his jacket having fallen down, “Three years together and a bright future ahead.”

Last night had been the third anniversary of your relationship and hopefully the previous night worrying on parents walking in, cheap dates Luke often felt guilty about. Luke knew in his bones playing The Orpheum tonight would open the door to a legendary future. A future where money wasn’t tight and he could you on dates he deemed acceptable for the love of his life.

Bobby voiced brought Sunset Curve’s lead singer back to that moment, you dropped from the stage to settle in the empty audience to watch the soundcheck. With a wink from Alex, he started making the beat to Now or Never, you beamed as they poured their souls into the song. The four were talented and made to be in a band together even if you didn’t really like Bobby.

Cringing at the awkward wink Bobby sent you turned on your converse to head to the bar for a glass of water. Thanking the bartender, you tuned out the conversation with the waitress and the band only jumping when arms wrapped around your waist.

“We’re getting street dogs.” Luke spoke, bringing your body to rest on his chest, “Do you want one?”

The thought of those street dogs honestly horrifying given they were cooked in some random guys car. The one time you tried, it had permanently tattooed the taste in your memories forever, and just remembering was vomit-inducing.

 “I’ll pass.” You wrinkled your nose, turning to wrap your arms around his neck, “I don’t know how you guys like those.”

“Tradition.” Luke shrugged caressing your cheekbone with the pad of this thumb. Gazing at features he wanted to wake up to for the rest of his life, “Still down with the plan?”

“The minute I’m eighteen, we go to the nearest chapel.” You grinned playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, “I’ll be waiting Rockstar.”

Luke pressed a long passionate kiss on your lips, pulling away to jog over to Alex and Reggie waiting at the door. Bobby having declined the street dog invitation to flirt with the waitress Rose. Alex waved before the door closed. Little did you know that would be the last time you saw them alive.

1995 was the worst year of your life. 1996 was the hardest, especially with the forever reminder of your love. You wouldn’t trade 1996 for the world however, only wishing for one change.

Los Angeles, 2004

Alex, Reggie and Luke had learnt a mere few days away from that life had drastically changed forever. Firstly, the three boys had died from eating the street dogs mere hours before performing on the stage of The Orpheum. Secondly, it was no longer 1995 but instead nearly ten years had past bringing the three ghosts into 2004.

The most jarring wasn’t being able to be heard playing music with a random girl named Julie but that the most constant part of the band no longer was there. You hadn’t died that night, and Alex was pretty sure you were still alive. Luke felt lost waking up without you beside him and the deep regret of not reconciling with his parents.

It would be a week before Luke would swallow his pride enough to orb himself into his unchanged childhood home. Emily, Luke’s mom, was in the well-worn chair knitting a scarf Luke recognized as his favourite colours. Mitch was in the kitchen, putting the groceries away. It was heartbreaking being invisible to his aged parents.

“Hey, Mom.” Luke sniffled sitting on the couch nearby staring at his silent mother, “Sorry for not visiting sooner.”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes feeling hopeless, not being able to ease his parents’ pain, the regret and guilt bubbling to the surface.

“How is Y/N? I bet she’s living in New York of London now. We promised to travel the world together. Part of me is guilty of wishing she had eaten a street dog that night so we could be together.” Luke sobbed, wrapping his arms around his midsection reminiscing on the beautiful girl he had unwillingly left.

“Hey.” Mitch spoke, kissing his wife’s forehead. Her eyes closing in contentment.

“I wonder if you know where Reg and Alex’s parents are. Reggie’s neighbourhood was torn down who knows when. It makes me scared to see if Alex and Y/N’s parents still have their place. I don’t think so. They lost their son.”

“Hey Luke.”

Luke glanced over his shoulder to see Alex at the door, reluctant to impose of Luke’s privacy.

“Yeah.”

“We’re rehearsing.” Alex spoke, smiling as the other teenager took one more wistful look at his parents before orbing out of his house to the Molina family’s garage. Minutes later, the front door opening and feet thudding brought the noise to the Patterson home.

“Grandma!”

A four-foot blue of green and black blur covered the room in seconds nearly sprawling Mitch to the floor. Why was that 1996 year difficult? Well, ’95 was when Sunset Curve tragically died, and a stick changed your life. ’96 was spent going through the last five months of pregnancy without Luke.

October 1995

You kept your lips pressed tightly together, unable to look at the smooth, shiny mahogany rectangle surrounded by flowers. Looking up meant the reality kicking in. Funerals sucked. Especially the third funeral in the last handful of days. It was surreal thinking that one week ago you had kissed your boyfriend and hugged your brother and now they were dead. Gone. Not even a goodbye.

“Are you okay?” The broke voice asked, gaining your attention. Swollen red eyes matching yours held unimaginable pain. While the last few months had been icy with your parents, it didn’t mean losing one of their kids didn’t sting.

“I will be.” You whispered clasping your hands over the scratchy black velvet dress, one you had worn three times too many.

The sobs broke out seeing the best picture Alex had taken in his life, it encapsulated his best features; his beaming smile and kind, caring eyes. Alex was gone. Your brother was gone because he ate a bad hot dog with his friends. You would never see your boys again. Never feel Luke’s skin or share a laugh with Alex or complain about things with Reggie. You wouldn’t get to meet in the chapel with Luke wearing second hand ‘fancy’ clothing. In one night, your life changed.

It changed further seeing the two lines on the test later that night. The heartache growing. The baby you carried would never meet his uncles and his Dad. Would never hear them play or learn to play. ’95 and ’96 sucked ass.

You sighed, closing the door to follow the rambunctious ball of energy into the living room where he entertained Mitch and Emily. Some days it was difficult to stare into the green eyes he inherited from his father.

“Benjamin Lucas.” You spoke crossing your arms, meeting the gaze of the eight-year-old boy, “What did I say?”

“To not runoff.” Ben quietly replied, playing with his hands. His messy brown hair, in need of a trim, falling into his eyes, “Sorry Mom.”

“Please don’t do it again.” You gently told the little boy elated as he quickly found the toy box in the corner of the room.

Ben was loved deeply by Mitch and Emily, who had stepped up when your parents made the decision to sell your childhood home. Wanting Ben to know his paternal grandparents, you had struggled to find an apartment and job to say in the neighbourhood. Since the baby was the last part of their son, the Patterson parents’ had welcomed you into the home where you stayed until Ben was two.

“Do you want us to come around for Luke’s birthday?” You questioned sitting on the love seat, the same love seat you had made out on with Luke many times during movies.

The room turned sad at the question and reminded that for the ninth year, you would celebrate Luke’s birthday without him. A day where Ben wouldn’t fully understand. Emily simply nodded her head.

 “Have you met anyone?” Mitch asked, leaning over to clasp his hands together. For the last few years, they had been pushing you to date. They wanted your happiness and for Ben to have a father even if Luke couldn’t be it.

“Mama can we stay here tonight?” Ben’s innocent voice cut the tension, saving you from answering the question again. Mitch and Emily each nodded their heads at the question, unable to tell the young boy no.

“Have you ate?” Emily asked, turning to look at you in concern. The chuckle left your mouth at the question she frequently requested, she missed cooking for more than two.

“We had pasta before we came.” You replied, turning to gaze out the window to the dark sky, “I should put Ben to bed.”

The soft whine from your son and denial was a nightly routine and very much a mirror image to Luke’s character as well. With a smile, Emily held out her hand to her grandchild, she was notoriously the only one able to get Ben to sleep fast.

 “Come on Bug.”

It seemed the universe was keeping Luke from seeing you and discovering Ben, but when that night came, he was shocked. Emily was curled up on the patio couch, watching Ben in the newly bought sandbox. The patio doors opened. Inside, Mitch had invited a stranger who knew his son into the house.

 “I think I heard the doorbell. I’ll be right back.” Emily called out to you. You had found shade under the tree reading a new book.

The soft cry had you up and running to Ben before you even realized, on his knee was a bleeding wound. You had already scooped the boy into your arms to quickly get into the kitchen. The moment your foot stepped into the home, the sound of a familiar voice and song filled the house.

Gently placing Ben on his feet, you followed the sound to the living room. Across the room behind a young girl stood a boy.

“Luke.” You breathed floored at the sight of the teenager who looked exactly like he did back in ’95. The ghost singing widened his eyes at yours, taking in the mature features and change of fashion.

He continued to sing the song Unsaid Emily he had written as an apology to his mom following the last big fight. The song he never got to show her. His voice faded as the ending of the song came around.

“Mama!” Your attention broke from Luke’s when a tiny hand reached for yours. The pain in his voice bringing you back to the most important part of your life, “It hurts Mama.”

Despite being sad, Mitch was the one to cross the room to lift the little boy into his arms. Placing the little boy on the counter, the man gently wet a paper towel to wash the area.

“I think he needs stitches.” Mitch sighed, furrowing his brows.

“Who is that?” Luke asked the Molina girl. The girl shrugged taking in the features she could recognize. Julie asked Emily.

“That’s Ben.” Emily beamed, looking over her shoulder at the little boy that filled the void of Luke’s death. It didn’t fix the wound or erase the pain, but Ben’s existence helped with the loss as he was a precious gift, “When Luke passed away his girlfriend Y/N found out she was pregnant with Luke’s baby.”

The choked sob fell from Luke’s mouth echoed by the thud of his knees, hitting the floor in the pure shock. The heartbreak painted so clear Julie was sure she could feel Luke’s agony.

God, why did Luke have to eat that fucking street dog. Fuck his band dreams. Nothing hurt as bad as finding out about Ben and Y/N having to be a single parent.

“I have a son?” Luke cried, orbing himself as far as he could from the Patterson home and his most tremendous loss.

Part Two

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[mourntheantagonist]

#HarringroveApril Day 16: Nostalgia

***

When Billy signed those discharge papers, piled into his dented Camaro and headed west towards the sunset despite the screaming redhead banging on the windows crying “please don’t go!”, with an aching chest both metaphorical and physical, he didn’t think for a second about looking back.

So how he ended up back in the same shithole he turned his back on ten years ago was entirely beyond him.

He had made a life for himself in California. He got his associates degree at the local community college and worked his way up from a nine to five teller position at the local bank all the way to branch manager, making an upper middle class salary. It was easy work. Boring work, unfulfilling work, but easy and worth every penny. He had a couple of friends, mostly coworkers, more so acquaintances than friends. He had a fancy apartment in the city, he went on dates, though they usually ended in one night stands where the other guy snuck out in the dark hours of the morning leaving Billy to sleep in a bed that was just too big for one person. But he was free from all of those forces in his life that always held him back and pinned him down, and each and every one of those forces just reeked of small town America.

He hadn’t heard a peep out of Hawkins since Max had given up on calling around eight years ago, or at least he hoped that she’d given up and something worse hadn’t happened to her. He regretted not answering those calls everyday. The guilt of leaving her behind like that weighed heavy like an anchor, but he did it anyway. Bad decision after bad decision he was surprised he made it to where he had today, and he just wished she’d call again.

But he also wasn’t sure enough of himself that anything would change if she did, and that phone would likely remain on the hook until the ringing stopped and she was left to the sound of his voicemail.

“You’ve reached Billy Hargrove. Leave a message.”

He wasn’t home the day she finally did call, which fortunately took that decision away from him. Her message was tossed in with a mix of telemarketers and employees calling in for days off, it could have easily been dismissed, passed over like every other piece of junk in the system if her voice hadn’t been exactly the same as it was the day he left her.

“Hey Billy, it’s Max. I know you probably don’t give a shit, but Neil died of a heart attack last night…” Billy stopped listening after the words ‘Neil died’ came over the speaker. He had to replay the message to hear the rest because by the time he’d gathered himself it had already ended. “...the funeral is next Saturday in Hawkins. Nobody expects you to come but I thought you should know anyway and that everyone would still like to see you. Call me back at…” Billy wrote the number on the back of a blockbuster receipt and set it flat on the counter quickly with a firm hand and a quick retraction, like it might burn him. Max’s name and a ten digit number below it in a blue ballpoint pen stared back at him and he just drummed his fingers on the counter and bit his lip trying to think everything over.

He looked at it for probably another thirty minutes while the rest of the voicemails cycled through in the background before he decided to make a call of his own. Slowly and shaking, he dialed the phone number and tried to even out his breathing while he waited for the sound of the pick up. He was partially hoping that it never came.

But it did. The click sound was followed by a voice that didn’t belong to Max, but one he still recognized.

“Hello?”

Billy took in a deep breath. “Hi. This is Billy.”

“Wow, I’m surprised you actually called.”

Billy huffed and if it had been ten years earlier he would have already hung up the phone by now.

“Who is this?”

“Lucas Sinclair. I take it you want to talk to Max?”

Billy tensed at the mention of her name, as if that hadn’t been the whole plan in the first place. “Yeah,” he said, a little bit of shakiness to his voice, “could you put her on?”

After a few short moments of silence and a little bit of movement in the background, he heard her.

“Hey Billy.” she sounded… glad… and it made Billy let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Hey Maxine.”

“It’s Max.” There was that tone, she hadn’t changed at all.

“Yeah, I know.” There was a pause, Billy twirled the phone cord around this index finger to the point it started going pink and then purple while he tried to get the question to leave the tip of his tongue. “So, he’s really dead?” he asked, blunt as ever.

“Yeah. I don’t expect you to want to come for the funeral, but I just thought you should know, and if you need a place to stay you can– hold on one second” Billy could hear muffled bickering and Max yelling ‘Lucas Sinclair’ through clenched teeth and it brought a smile to his face. It reminded him of all those times he’d eavesdrop on her phone calls with him just to piss her off, just to hear her yell at him through their shared wall before she’d chase him around the house. Those were good days. “As I was saying. You can stay here if you need. We have a spare room.”

“Thanks for the offer.”

“I really hope you decide to come.”

“We’ll see.” He was just about to hang the phone back up, but he stopped himself, “Hey Max?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice hearing the sound of your voice again.”

Billy wound up taking the week off and driving that same old Camaro, restored back to its former glory, that did the distance twice before, back over to Indiana, to the place he said he’d never go back to, and he really couldn’t figure out the reason why he didn’t just go into work. There was nothing to drive him to go but the weird feeling in his gut that refused to go away until he called in, and a little bit of that pressure was released.

For each freeway exit he came across on the over thousand mile journey he contemplated turning around, getting back on that on-ramp going the other direction and save himself from whatever hell he’d be walking into.

Because that’s what Hawkins was to him. Hell. There were monsters like his father, and then there were real, legitimate monsters as well and Billy wasn’t safe from either of them, well he was safe from one now. He couldn’t imagine why Max decided to stay in the shithole and not get out like he did.

Maybe that’s what makes him the coward.

The welcome to Hawkins sign gave him chills. He remembered seeing that for the first time, following behind the rickety Uhaul pulled by their beat up truck when Billy decided not to follow them into their next turn, and instead got lost on the “scenic route” of Hawkins which really meant “trees, trees, and more trees” when he hit the Quarry’s dead end and nearly went off the cliff into the water below.

At the time he might’ve thought it would have been better if he had.

A lot of things had looked to have changed about the town since the last time he saw it. Places that he remembered being nothing but vast forests now had neighborhoods and restaurant chains and the place that once had a natural canopy was now completely deforested and exposed to the sun.

But the Quarry was exactly the same as he left it.

From the beer cans crushed and scattered, to the sounds of gravel pieces bouncing up and chipping the paint on his car.

The continuities continued to add up when he stepped foot out of the car, pulling on that same old denim jacket he hadn’t worn in years after trading it in for a suit and tie. His boot hit the gravel path just like it always had, with that same stomp that demanded attention, like each time he got out of that car he had to play into the dramatics, put on the mask and play the part he chose for himself. The breeze and the smell, it was all the same as before, as if the industrialization just several blocks north hadn’t had any effects on this little corner of the town where the birds still sang their songs in harmony and the smell of nature was pungent. It felt like no time had passed at all.

But it had been the sound of a rumbling BMW rolling down the crushing gravel that made him feel exactly like he was back in highschool again, the same rotten kid who used fists as forms for problem solving, the kid who as an adult had worked on his impulsivity, standing there, staring up the gentle slope with his fists clenched so tight his fingernails left marks on his palms. All that work, all that progress he thought he’d gone through, thrown straight out the window at just the mere sight of something from his past.

The BMW pulled up beside him, and the quarry apparently wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed. Steve still had the same big swooped back hair and that same exact look on his face when they made eye contact through the passenger window, the same exact look he had the day he told him he was leaving, and screamed at him to get out of his hospital room.

That was the last time they spoke.

Steve got out of the car without a word and just leaned against the door, looking him up and down, and Billy didn’t feel like he had any right to say the first word, considering he’d had the last one.

“It’s good to see you Billy.” Steve broke the silence, and it was almost startling, with both the sudden change of volume, and the sound of that voice he’d almost forgotten singing in his head like a song he didn’t remember learning the lyrics to.

“Is it?” Because it felt like it was all just a formality coming out of his mouth.

He wasn’t expecting an answer to that, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when Steve changed the subject. It was oddly refreshing seeing Steve write the script this time, steering the conversation his way.

“Looks like we both kept our old wheels,” he said, slapping the top of his car twice, maybe a little too hard. The sound of a hand against metal echoed through the trees. “though there’s not as many dents from what I remember.”

“I had it restored.”

The majority of Steve’s body was hidden behind the car that separated the two of them, but he could see in the way that his shoulders moved that his hands had found his own hips, doing that same stance of a mother who just caught their kid in the act of something naughty. “Some good memories happened in that car.”

“Some bad ones too. Or do I need to remind you how the dents got there in the first place?” Billy crossed his arms over his chest, as if the thousand pound chunk of metal that served as a barrier wasn’t enough to protect him. Because it felt like Steve could see directly through him with the way his head tilted when Billy threw his words back at him. Because they both knew that it was horseshit. Memories of whatever happened between Steve and the Camaro existed only in the dents that remained and the neck pain that still lingered. He didn’t actually hold any grudge about that, and he never did.

Because Steve was right. There had been good memories in that car, some he didn’t remember until seeing him again, some that still played in his mind when he went to sleep at night. Maybe that was the reason he kept it around for so long, that one piece that contained all of those few good times, all of those times with Steve.

“You were always so good at that.”

“What?”

“Deflecting. Pushing people away.”

Billy opened his mouth to defend himself, but there was nothing that came out but his own breath, but Steve filled that silence anyway before Billy would have even had the opportunity to speak.

“You cut your hair.”

It was like he was being interrogated.

“Company policy, they practically had to strap me down and take the clippers to my head themselves.”

Steve actually laughed, and it seemed genuine at least. Billy pulled out the pack of red that he always kept on the seat like it was muscle memory. His hands would only ever stop shaking when he had that little stick between his fingers, and they were only shaking more since Steve got out of that car.

“You still smoke?”

Billy put the cigarette in between his lips and lit up, pausing for a nice drag before bothering to answer Steve. Just letting his eyes fall shut and experience just a short moment of relaxation.

“Some old habits never die”

Steve pursed his lips. Every single one of his mannerisms were exactly the same. This one meant that he wanted to say something that he didn’t know if he should.

“Was I just an old habit too?”

“Steve–”

Steve just kicked the side of his car with his knee, sure to leave a dent of his own. The sound was loud enough that the consistent stream of chirping birds transformed into a cascade of flapping wings as the birds on the trees flew away from the scene. He walked around to the front of his car and the physical object that once created separation was gone, and suddenly Steve was within reach and he couldn’t breathe.

“Glad to know it’s harder to quit nicotine than it was to quit me!”

Billy chucked his lit cigarette at the ground and scuffed it with his heel into the gravel. “Who told you it was easy?!” He had a finger pointed to Steve and had closed their distance a few feet more, less than an arms length apart from each other.

“You left!”

“Because I had to! You know I did!”

“You didn’t have to leave me!” Steve practically screamed that final word, his face was now just inches away from Billy’s and he was nearly foaming at the mouth and from an outsider's perspective, Steve looked about two seconds from either kissing him, or killing him.

He did neither. He took a step back and recollected himself with a dramatic clearing of his throat. “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”

“And you don’t think I regret that every fucking day of my life?” Billy’s voice broke, trembling throughout the sentence like he was containing a ticking time bomb. “Why are you even here?”

Steve just rolled his eyes at the steer. “Max sent me.”

“Of course she fucking did.”

“She cares about you y’know.” Billy scoffed, because how could she? After all he did to her? He could still hear those palms banging against those windows and her muffled screams for her to stay every time he got into that car. “Why are you here?”

“Did she not tell you the part where my dad died?”

“I know damn well you didn’t come all this way to pay your respects.”

Billy let himself drop to the ground and sit on the rough terrain with his back against his tire, unable to continue standing, his legs were ready to betray him.

“I have no idea why I’m here, okay? I just am.”

Steve nodded his head, and he didn’t say anything, no quip back in his face, he just followed Billy to the ground.

“Are you upset he’s gone?”

Billy let out a groan and tried to rub the growing migraine from his temples.

“I’m feeling a lot of things, but I don’t think ‘upset’ is one of them.” Neither of them said anything after that. They just sat there on the ground and enjoyed the silence together like they used to do. Looking up at the clouds and arguing over what shape they were. There’d be none of that today though, and it had nothing to do with the overcast skies. “You still keep a six pack in your trunk?”

Steve laughed and got up from where he was seated and popped the trunk. He was right. Some old habits never fucking die.

Steve tossed a can over to Billy and sat back down on the gravel, maybe a little closer than he had been before. Billy took a long swig and swallowed the bitter taste down. He hadn’t drank much since he was a teenager, he traded in his Coors for Cola and he doesn’t understand how he used to enjoy the taste of it before.

“Why did you stay in Hawkins?”

Steve dug his heel and pushed a pile of rocks forward, kicking a plume of dust into the air.

“Nobody ever gave me a reason to leave.”

Billy wanted to ask if he would have even come with him had he asked him to. But he opted against it, instead just taking another drink from the can and a genuine “I’m sorry.” passed his lips.

“You know I followed you?”

“What?”

“Yup. Made it all the way to St. Louis before I turned around.”

Billy was just staring at him at this point, unsure if he’d just heard him right. He just sat there with his mouth agape, catching flies and waiting for Steve to say more.

“I knew that you needed to go. I knew that you were hurting and it took me almost ten hours on the open road to realize that you needed time to heal.” Steve’s eyes looked glossy and his cheeks flushed but he kept his smile on. “So I came back home, and I waited here for you to come back. I wanted to make myself easy to find when you needed me.”

“You waited for me?”

Steve inched his hand over to where Billy’s was propping himself up and let his fingers gently trace the back of his hand. Steve’s touch was everything. It made his heart start racing and his palms start sweating and it felt just like 1985 all over again.

Billy took Steve’s hand in his own and entwined their fingers together and Billy let out a long exhale as they did.

“Billy,” Steve said softly, scooting his body just a little bit closer, less than a foot of separation now between the two of them, and he looked Billy in the eyes. Billy had almost gotten entirely lost in those pools of deep brown before Steve had the chance to speak again. But he heard it, loud and clear. “I’m still waiting for you.”

He waited.

Waited ten fucking years.

Billy wasn’t going to make him sit there and wait for a kiss too.

Billy closed the distance at the moment the penny dropped, sinking all of his weight into the kiss in a frantic and uneven pace just like they were eighteen again trying to squeeze both of their bodies into the backseat of the Camaro, refusing for even a second to separate themselves from the one point of contact that sealed them together like glue. The kiss felt just like their first. In the same spot, instead under the stars and the two of them both drunk off their asses, and that time Billy tasted of only blood and liquor.

But it was that same feeling. That desire to never pull away, that fear that it would end and that it would be the last time. He had that fear with everyone of Steve and his kisses, that each one might just be their last.

So he made a point to savor all of them.

They kissed until they physically couldn’t anymore. Out of breath with swollen lips and an inability stop the smiles that peeked through every couple of seconds. They sat there with their foreheads touching and their clasped hands still intact, relishing in the heat that was each other’s breath on their faces. Billy was crying, just streams of tears paired with a smile that Steve gently wiped away with his thumb, the brush of contact making him shiver.

“I missed you so fucking much.”

Steve cradled Billy’s head in his hands and peppered a few short kisses to his lips.

“I missed you too.”

“You think this is why Max invited me here?” Billy asked. “I can’t imagine she’d actually think I would want to come to this thing.”

Steve laughed. “No. She’s not an idiot. She figured you’d want to crash the funeral.”

Billy immediately got up from his place on the ground and held his other hand out for Steve to grab onto. “Well you wanna join me while I go piss on my old man’s grave?”

Steve took his hand without hesitation and let Billy pull him up off the ground.

“It would be my honor.”

Hawkins made a lot of bad memories for Billy, most of which he locked somewhere far away, but the good still remained. Right there in the look on Steve’s face with the way he looked back at him.

And he was happy to make a couple more.