#I think I scheduled it to perfect time zone but if now then let’s just pretend

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💐 @cordiallyfuturedwight

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[leighsartworks216]

Pumpkin Patch

Sylus x gn!Reader

Inspired by my going to a pumpkin patch and carving pumpkins today and yesterday. I am soooo sore, BUT I made a kitty pumpkin and it's so fuckin cuteee

Warnings: pumpkin carving, fluff, cuddling, Halloween, sleepy Sylus, soft Sylus, established relationship

Word Count: 2,172

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Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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Sylus normally doesn’t get up during the day. Usually, on any other day, he’d sleep all the way through from dawn until dusk. If he woke up at all, he’d use that time to check up on you, diurnal creature that you are.

This is “late” for him. It’s mid-morning, the sun is closer to its peak than the horizon, and you’re bouncing around like a 3-year-old that just raided a candy store.

You’d insisted on going to a pumpkin patch. The issue with that is the hours they’re usually open. As he turns into the lot, parking his nice (very expensive) car on the grass, watching you already starting to unbuckle your seatbelt, he thinks ruining his sleep schedule just a bit is worth it.

You hold his hand like a tether as you practically skip all the way down the driveway. At the end, on the left, is a big red barn, side doors open wide to welcome guests into a small shop. Cider, candles, donuts and more sit along wooden shelves, waiting to be bought. But to the right…

“Sy, look at them all!” You gape at the array of bright orange gourds in front of you. Big, medium, small - even a couple huge ones that he could sit inside of if they were hollowed. You suddenly look at him, a bright smile tearing at your face and stars dancing in your eyes. “I never asked! Have you ever carved a pumpkin before?”

It’s a miracle you’re not letting him go to run ahead into the field. Other couples trail along, searching for that one perfect pumpkin. A small family is taking photos of their dressed-up child among the hay bales. One person is looking at the huge ones with the eye of a sculpture artist.

He shakes his head, his own smile accompanying yours. “No. I don’t think we have anything like it in the N109 Zone.”

“Really? Do you have Halloween?”

He chuckles. “It would be a funny place if we started handing out free candy for one night of the year.” He tilted his head and raised a brow at you. “Besides, do you really want kids running around unsupervised?”

You huff, face wrinkling into a cute grimace. “Most kids who trick-or-treat aren’t unsupervised,” you retort. Your face softens as you reach the edge of the field. “But I guess you’re right. Oh!” You tug on his arm excitedly. “You should spend Halloween with me! We can watch scary movies and dress up and give out candy to the kids!”

A warmth seeps into his chest. You’d never allowed him to visit your apartment in Linkon City. You were always so scared of someone recognizing him, of being caught in this little game. To offer so freely now, and with this much enthusiasm, how can he refuse?

“Alright,” he agrees. “I’ll spend the holiday with you. Now pick out your pumpkin.”

“You gotta pick one out, too!”

“I will, sweetie.”

You let go of his hand to weave and wind your way through the patch. Pumpkins of all shapes surround him as he follows, scanning each gourd with a discerning eye. He vaguely understood the concept; pick a pumpkin, carve a face or design into it, and leave it out on the front step with lights inside. It was strange, to be sure. He couldn’t, as of yet, understand the appeal.

When he looks around at the people, they’re just like you: bouncing around, grinning from ear to ear just thinking about what they’ll carve. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think there was some reward or prize involved. But there wasn’t. As far as indulgences go, it’s one he can’t fully grasp yet.

You gasp as you run ahead toward a pumpkin. It was bright orange with shallow grooves, almost perfectly round, and with a stem twisting out of the top. You pick it up, turning it this way and that. “Look how perfect this one is, Sy! What do you think?” You turn to him, holding it for him to see.

“It’s a bit big for you, don’t you think, kitten?” he teases.

“Hush, I think it’s the perfect size for my design.” You swat at his chest, but he doesn’t even flinch at the contact. Instead, he holds out his arm so he can carry it for you. While it’s not the heaviest pumpkin in the patch, you do struggle with the heft. He doesn’t struggle at all as he cradles it in one arm.

“What are you going to carve into it?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You smile mischievously up at him.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I look forward to it.” He turns his attention back to the array before him. You hold his free hand as he continues his search.

It’s minutes later when his eyes catch sight of a smaller pumpkin. It’s gumdrop shaped, with a shorter stem. He isn’t sure what draws him to it, but he points it out to you and you pick it up.

“Awe, it’s so cute! I thought you’d go for one of the big ones for sure.” You spin it by its small stem to look at all its sides. The grooves are mostly shallow, with some running deeper than others. It’s also not perfectly orange like yours is. It’s instead more yellow toward the top.

“I should start small for my first pumpkin, no? I’m not an expert like you yet.”

You laugh, tucking the light-weight pumpkin into your own arm to carry as he leads you back towards the barn. “Maybe one day you’ll be as good as I, the Pumpkin Carving Master. I’ve had years of experience - you gotta lot of catching up to do.”

“You sound confident,” he says. “Maybe you’d like to put a little wager on whose pumpkin turns out better?”

“And who would be judging this competition?”

“Luke and Kieran, of course.”

“Ha! They’d give it to you in a heartbeat.”

“Do you know any other impartial judges?”

You think for a minute. All of your friends are hunters, and they’d probably feel bad choosing someone else’s work over yours, friendly competition or not. You shake your head. “Not anybody that wouldn’t turn you in.” You nudge him with your elbow. “We can always hold the competition next year. Oh! We can do us versus the twins! And then have the quote-unquote ‘impartial’ chef decide the winners.”

He chuckles warmly. “I like the way you think, kitten.”

“I know,” you chime back, grinning wickedly at your own devious little plan.

-

Sylus drives you back to the N109 Zone. It’s too risky to go back to your apartment right now, what with all the hunters that live there. It’ll be safer when it’s dark, perfect for Halloween night.

He helps you cover the coffee table in the living room with plastic trash bags to catch the guts and bits of pumpkin that will undoubtedly end up on the floor and couch anyway. You open up the cases of carving tools you got from the barn, setting out two scoops and a series of serrated knives for you both. He sets out a few toothpicks, telling you not to worry about them as he smirks all too knowingly. A familiar Halloween favorite plays on the large TV as you get started.

You show him how to cut open the pumpkin and gut it. He grimaces at the slippery, squishy innards as he pulls them out, causing you to laugh.

With a sharpie, you draw out the design you want to carve. You may or may not have found a reference for it online, while he seems to have gone in completely blind. You’re curious to know just what he’s making, but you hold back. It’ll be more fun to show them to each other after the fact.

Very few words are exchanged the longer you work. The movie fills up most of the quiet. Sometimes, you both make little jokes or commentary, but you become quite content to just sit in the moment with him. You can also understand that he’s not used to being awake at this hour. He might be too tired to keep up a conversation, so you don’t push.

“Sylus, what do you-” You quickly cut yourself off when you turn to see him.

He’s sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, resting deep in the couch cushions, head tilted back so his face is to the ceiling. His chest rises and falls slowly, quiet breaths you’d completely missed over the sound of the movie. You reach over and carefully turn it down a few ticks.

When you set the remote down, however, you notice his pumpkin sitting on the table. It seems finished, as far as you can tell. Unable to wait any longer for the reveal, you turn his pumpkin to face you.

Slanted triangle eyes with an upside down triangle nose, and a wide mouth with two little fangs. The triangles from the eyes have been repurposed with the help of the toothpicks to form ears at the top of the pumpkin. He’d even carefully cut away the orange outer layer of the pumpkin to accentuate the fangs. It was a cute little kitty. You can’t fight the smile that lights up your face as you take in Sylus’s first ever jack o'lantern.

“You’re making the same expression.”

You gasp and turn to see Sylus, no longer with his head leaned back, and with a sleep-softened smirk. You’d been so caught up in his pumpkin that you didn’t realize when he’d woken up. His red eyes shift from you to your own pumpkin. He chuckles.

“Is that me?”

Your own jack o’lantern was a classic: sharp eyes and a jagged smile full of pointed teeth. You laugh. “No, it’s not you.” You turn both of the pumpkin faces to look at you both, before leaning back into the couch next to him. His arm automatically wraps around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. “I don’t see you like that anymore.”

He hums noncommittally. How you two met remains an unspoken stain on your unusual relationship. He was scary and intense, so damn determined for you to Resonate with him that he hadn’t cared about anything else. He’s spent every day since making it up to you.

“Is that me?” you ask, pointing to his cat carving, steering you both away from that time.

He nods. “Of course it is, kitten. That’s the face you make when you’ve come up with a mischievous scheme. The resemblance is uncanny.”

You chuckle. “We can set them out later. But right now…” You pull away from his side, drawing a disappointed sigh from the man. He watches as you slide down to the other armrest, leaning your back against it and making sure the TV remote is within reach. You pat your chest. “C’mon, it’s past your bedtime.”

He huffs a soft laugh. “I wonder whose fault that is,” he teases. Still, he’s all too happy to accept your offer, stretching himself out like a sleepy cat until his body covers yours, his head resting on your chest. His arms slide between your body and the couch until they’re wrapped securely around you. You pull the blanket off the back of the couch - one of your own additions after coming and going so often - and drape it over the both of you.

“Comfy?” You comb your fingers gently through his hair. It’s always softer than you expect, gliding through your fingers easily as you scratch along his scalp.

He groans against your shirt. “It’s perfect, kitten,” he murmurs. His eyes are already shut. He’s certain now that they won’t open again until midnight. With his ear so close to your chest, he can hear your heart beating clearer than ever, mixing with the movie in the background to create a lullaby that eases all the pent up tension in his muscles. “This was fun,” he admits, voice so quiet you almost don’t hear him. “I look forward to the competition next year.”

Your fingers scrape along the nape of his neck, sending chills down his body. You grin at the power you hold. The way he so naturally responds to your touch is addicting, a power you will find a way to abuse when he wakes up. But for now, you use your newfound skills to massage the strain in his neck away and play with his hair. “I think yours won this time,” you comment.

He grins. “What do I win?”

You pretend to think. “A kiss.”

He chuckles, a darker twinge of possessiveness staining the sound. “Be careful when offering yourself up as a reward, kitten. You don’t know just how much I’ll collect.”

“Well, you can collect when you wake up. Deal?”

He squeezes you a smidge tighter in his embrace, pressing his face into your neck as he lets out a long sigh. “Deal.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44

[oimitocat]

TSWCP — CHAP 3

lee minho x m!reader

chapter summary; you just can’t live with the silence. you can’t bear it. this time, you prove minho you really will risk it all for him. will he take it or leave you with your heart bleeding in your hands?

content warning; subtle internalized homophobia + subtle insecurity + tension + constant change of pov (mainly minho’s) + crying + makeout session

content genre; idol au + actor au + fluff + angst + 9th member! reader

word count — 6.4k | m.list | a/n; this sucks btw ;(

it’s cold. frozen and heavy. 

that’s how you could describe your heart after what had happened days ago. your mind? static. looking for signal. waiting on connection. 

concert tours are coming up. your management had managed to sort something out with the executive directors of the drama so that once you come back from tour with the group, shooting wouldn’t be delayed or a hassle. the thought of it is dreadful. you still have to pull off a few conferences and amidst your tour dates some photo shootings have been crushed into your schedule. 

as much as it pisses you off, it also can’t be helped. 

“what’s your favorite scene?” an interviewer asks. 

you blink, having zoned out. gayoung’s soft touch on your knee brings you back to your current position. 

“me personally,” gayoung says with her fluent english. “i really loved the scene where i had to ride a horse.”

you stare at her before smiling. the other actor, another close friend of yours on set is minwoo, he laughs. 

“i had to help her five times to climb on that thing because she kept slipping.”

“ah, the cons of being a gnome,” you tease automatically.

everyone busts laughing while gayoung gives you an offended expression. she starts an argument, you feed it. 

minho clutches his phone as he watches the interaction from his screen. the video had been posted not so long ago now. he can’t help it, seeing you from a screen and aching. why had he been so stupid? kissing you? confessing? 

you two could never be as perfect as you and gayoung are. your chemistry is absolutely beautiful. it’s so natural. how could he ever compare to something like that. much less now? he ruined what he had with you. was a kiss really worth it? absolutely not. not after the rift he created with you became unmendable. 

“y/n, since the drama is based on a book, it has been said that the first few episodes on the next season you’ll have to portray heartbreak, betrayal and desperation. will that be hard for you?”

he watches how you shake your head immediately, that joyful expression you had dropped “i have to display a raw emotion, most of the time we as actors have to study how to display something we’ve never experienced but in this case, i’ve actually experienced heartbreak and desperation.”

minho’s eyes widened a bit. are you insane? how could you say that with your girlfriend right next to you? 

“could you maybe give us some insight on that?”

“well,” you look up at the ceiling for a moment. then you look back at the screen but for some reason it feels like you’re looking at him. as if you knew he was watching. “as an idol and actor you need to let go of many things you end up carrying, i think everyone does and everyone has someone to seek out and trust enough to simply rant and be yourself with. yet, things kind of change when you grow in the industry… maybe the fans don’t know this about me but i cherish those who i’m close with and will always find a way to keep our bonds, despite how i seem like i’ll let people come and go- it’s nothing like that. filming this drama took a lot out of me…”

“it not only took away my sleep but it took something else away. i loved shooting it, but if i had to do everything all over again…” you pause, sighing, “i think i would… but i’d change a lot of things and work hard not just to keep my career going but to keep those around me too. yeah, maybe we can’t stop people from leaving when they decided they will no matter what but it doesn’t change how horrible that feeling is.’

“you have gayoung though, as a couple i’m sure you share your burdens with her now, right?”

bitterness flashes across your features for a moment. no one has caught that, no one will. only minho.

because as much as it hurts… he’s the only one that knows you more than you know yourself. 

“of couse,” you smile. bitter. “just shows that when someone won’t be there for you, someone else will.” you pause, “and be better.”

ouch. minho turns off his phone, he covers his face into his hands and breathes wetly. he really is the worst, isn’t he?

fans have started to notice the distance between the two of you. bubble messages flood in every now and then saying they hope you and he are doing okay. he sees the comments questioning the silence that has been built between you two. the members know. 

well, they don’t know you two had kissed or that he is inevitably in love with you. 

but they know you two are not in good terms. 

chan had questioned you about it and when you didn’t give him a believable answer he had seeked minho out. all minho said was — “y/n is just too busy to keep what we have, i made sure he focuses on his career.” which in turns absolutely outed the fact minho caused all of this. the look of disappointment chan gave him is the same one he gives himself after crying and looking in the mirror.

even crying feels illegal. 

the worst part is you and jisung share the dorm with him. he hears jisung question you about your distance. he hears you talk to people— to gayoung — over the phone. he bumps into you on the way to the laundry, to the bathroom, in the kitchen. 

he works with you.

he lives with you.

he misses you. 

yet, you’re not his to seek out anymore. you’re his coworker now. 

nothing more… 

“where’s y/n? we’re about to board the plane,” jeongin says with a pout. 

minho unconsciously looks around, equally wondering where you are. they had driven to the airport at around 10 and you weren’t in the dorms. through check ins, you still hadn’t popped up. 

later, however, the video of you running through the airport with your bodyguard and manager blows up. minho finds that out in the van after landing in tokyo. he had wondered why you were so disheveled when you entered the plane. 

“we have four concerts here in japan,” seungmin mumbles to himself, “we have one day to roam around, one morning left and then we’re off to the states.”

“doesn’t y/n hyung have a private conference in the states?” jisung asks.

“what?” minho frowns.

chan sighs, “he really needs to take a break. this whole year is going to be packed.” he rests his head back on the seat, “he barely managed to pull off the concerts in korea.”

“well we do have a few free days in between our concerts,” seungmin offers, “he’ll have some sort of rest.”

minho swallows. are you really that busy? 

he still doesn’t get to see much of you. he’s had to hear hyunjin recap how you have 2 interviews a day before flying with them to japan. how you had to pull an all nighter to review a script for a morning commercial schedule. it’s crazy, he thinks. how are you alive. 

when all of you come to the venue to rehearse, he sees you thrudge in after chan, who seemingly had to drag you here. your hair is everywhere, your face puffy from sleep, your large hoodie and baggy joggers make you look small. minho forces himself to look away, his heart clenching at your adorable sight. 

practice goes alright, minho thinks. sound check goes well, jisung and changbin goofed off with the autotune. they had tried to pull you into their fun scheme but minho noticed how you grimly looked at them. it didn’t change how you still went along with it, always willing to entertain the guys. they’re your family just as much as they’re his. still, everyone is tense around you two.

because they know.

they know their favorite hyungs are in weird terms. they don’t ask, they don’t have to. it’s visibly written in the air. 

“minho can you go check on y/n,” chan asks him the morning of the official concert. 

everyone went through the same checks and passed. everything is ready. minho hadn’t really seen you today regardless, despite dancing and singing beside you. he truly does not recall you being around other than on stage, not even during lunch break. 

“why me?” he asks without thinking, it even comes out bitterly. 

chan stares at him for a moment. no one is around, just him and minho. “are you really going to drag this out?” he asks, tone evidently showing how angry he is, “everyone else is checking up on him except you. what are you two doing?”

minho looks away, fists clenching at his sides. “we’re just… not in a good spot-“

“and how long will that last? huh? y/n isn’t prideful like you are, so who is dragging it out?”

that was like a slap in the face. 

“minho, don’t shut me out.”

yet minho closed the door and never dared get near it. you never begged again. verbally. he took notice of your sad eyes after the fight. he felt your presence begging to call for him. yet you didn’t. because you knew the door that was slammed in your face would never open again. 

“i’ll check up on him before we get on stage,” he says softly. 

chan sighs, “i’ll take it.”

backstage, as he’s getting in his outfit, he sees you thrudge around. on your phone. clearly you’re talking to gayoung. he sees you smile for a second before walking out. he can’t help but follow you out discreetly. you step behind a wall, he stays around the corner. 

“i’m screwed,” you whisper. “so fucking screwed, you have no idea.”

minho steps back. well you’re alive and that’s all that matters. why would he check up on you? you don’t need him. you have the guys. you have gayoung. that’s clearly who you’re talking to.

he doesn’t need to overstep. your life isn’t something he’s involved in. 

“minho! y/n!” 

minho whips his head around, his heart pounding. does hyunjin have to be so fucking loud!? outing him like this!? he should leave before you realize he was right behind you- he makes the mistake of turning around again and coming face to face with you. 

he’s caught. 

he swallows and stares up at you. your dark eyes boring into him. you’re all ready to get on stage. he couldn’t even speak if he wanted to. there’s nothing to say. 

the way you walk past him makes his heart drop. 

the act was unfamiliar until 2 months ago. that’s how long he’s been dragging it out. that’s how long it’s been when he hurt your feelings and smashed his along. it felt like so little time but it felt like an eternity ago.

an eternity that is burned into his skull and haunts him. 

not even the roar of the fans when they come on stage silences the thousands of thoughts in his head. 

he’s on the stage feeling like a puppet. except his strings tangle with yours. the amount of times you bumped into him from stumbling were too many to count. he hates it. 

and he hates how much he worries. 

above all, he hates that he can’t near you. 

and it’s his fault. 

it’s probably the fourth concert day, the last concert in japan. they’ll be here for a day or so before flying back to korea. 

your chest feels tight. 

you get nauseous a lot. you can’t really stomach much. at most a soup you get at the hotel you’re all staying at but even that leaves you with an upset stomach. 

you had filmed a commercial in japan, gayoung had been flown out here. it frustrated you, didn’t matter where you went, gayoung had to be involved somehow. the girl isn’t at fault, it’s the company, you know that. 

“oppa are you sure you’re okay?” she asks.

you raise your head and look at your phone. the video call started thirty minutes ago when she finally landed and finished going through security. you don’t hate her, she’s a good friend. you haven’t kissed her, both of you strictly left that for the scenes only. you hug her, you cuddle her, you carry her but she’s not who you love. maybe as a friend. not as a lover. 

“you look like shit ever since we finished the drama, i didn’t want to point it out,” she says, there’s a bit of a teasing tone but she’s also dead serious. 

“a pretty girl like you shouldn’t curse,” you say with a sigh.

she stares at you before starting a string pf curses. you chuckle softly, shaking your head. you groan, your migraine returning. she immediately pauses. 

“oppa, i’m worried for you. joking aside, you really do look like shit.”

you grunt, looking around the room, “i think i’ll feel better when i’m back in korea…”

she puts the phone close to her face, as if she could see you more clearly that way. “i hope so or we’ll have to shoot a ‘taking care of my boyfriend’ blog.”

“ugh no,” you whine.

she laughs, “just kidding, the company is going to make me show my concern though if something happens.”

you give her a face, “nothing is gonna happen gayoung, i’m fine. just not a hundred percent.”

“well as long as you get back home safely,” she says softly, “i care for you y/n.”

all formality is out the window. it always has been with her, you see her as a little sibling from how long you two have worked together for. almost a whole year and a half. you had known her before the drama but contact wasn’t fully established until then. 

“i have to get going to the venue,” you finalize, dread expressed on your features.

“okay~,” she sing songs as she gets inside her van, “don’t push yourself, okay? see ya!”

“bye,” you throw a peace sign and she quickly mimics you before hanging up. 

you drop your phone on your bed before scrubbing your face with your hands. sometimes you’re thankful that you’re dating a friend instead of someone you don’t know, you’ve heard companies do that so this isn’t bad. yet, it isn’t good either. 

you’ve been like a zombie these last few weeks. taking all sorts of pills and gummies that would give you energy and help you get through concerts with a smile. you know the guys are worried about you, but you’re not the only one feeling overworked. still, you’re the one with the worst of it. 

“let’s put on our best show,” chan says as he pats everyone’s backs. he pauses when he comes to you, “let me know if you need a break-“

“hyung, seriously,” you grimace. “you make me feel like i don’t belong sometimes.”

he frowns, realizing he overstepped. “shit, no. y/n that’s not what i meant- i just- you know that i know.”

you stare at him, almost mortified. “uh-“

“please get to the stage quickly!” a staff member says. 

chan gives you a once over before heading out, you follow suit. your migraine hasn’t stopped. the roaring of the fans feels like a hammer being pounded on your skull from the inside. you genuinely contemplate taking up chan’s offer, especially when you zone out and step on minho’s shoe accidentally. 

“my bad,” you say automatically, stepping away like you had been burned.

and maybe you were, with the way he looks at you annoyingly. when did you feel so left out like this? 

you execute the choreography perfectly, smiling at hyunjin whenever he comes across you on a part. fans fawn over each and every one of you. yet, when your part comes during the bridge, you stop mid verse when something oozes out of your nose onto your upper lip. immediately, you look away from the camera and wipe it with your sleeve. the worst part is minho was behind you for the formation, his brows furrowed when you immediately stumbled when walking to the next formation. 

“are you bleeding?” jisung asks ushered as jeongin sings. 

you walk past all of them, jogging to the backstage. the bleeding won’t stop, normally you can just wipe it away and it’s unnoticeable but you knew this isn’t as easy. you’re hyper aware of your physical status. 

“oh, here let me,” a staff member says as they guide you to a chair. 

the fans are worried, chan clarifying that you’ll be fine makes it worse. how weak could you be?

“the bleeding stopped,” you say as you look at the clean tissue you pull away from your nose. 

“ah, are you sure you want to go-“

“thank you for your care, if anything comes up i’ll let you know,” you bow low before heading back out after the second song. 

there’s a moment where the members speak and chat, you anxiously return to the stage as jisung speaks to stay. you could stand beside anyone, they’re all dear to you and have been with you during tough times. yet, you unconsciously went to minho’s side, awkwardly standing there when you realize you shouldn’t have chosen him. 

even now, does he really give you comfort? why are you lying to yourself like this? 

“oh! hyung! are you okay?” hyunjin asks out loud on the mic. 

you swallow before looking down at your mic, “minho hit me with his mic when i went to formation.”

what. 

minho spins and looks at you. you clearly lost your mind. 

“i’m good though hyung, no need to apologize.”

everyone on stage is looking at you like you really have lost it. minho’s eyes are like saucers. he hesitates before bringing his mic up to speak, looking away and nervously fidgeting with his inear. 

“uh, my mistake, i didn’t realize you were that close when we turned.”

“hyung doesn’t realize his strength either,” hyunjin jokes nervously. 

there’s no way to verify or deny that fact. in the formation you and minho are pretty hidden, so in the end, it’s a possibility no matter how slim. 

“the fuck was that,” minho grits when all of you are backstage for an outfit change.

“hey, don’t fight,” changbin huffs. 

you stand there stiffly, changbin between the two of you. everyone has run off, not wanting to get caught up in it. chan comes up to you two. minho glares at you before stepping back. 

“i didn’t mean to hurt you,” he says, like he really did hurt you on the stage.

“but you did.” you say automatically. 

“hey, hey, what matters is that you’re okay,” chan says, believing the words that came out of your mouths. 

neither chan or changbin know that minho’s apology and your accusations are not from what happened minutes ago, but from what happened two months ago. you look away, turning to change. 

now, things are worse. the anger you had from what minho did dwindled down into your suppressed sadness. you meant everything you said- you’d leave anything and everything to keep him. yet, why didn’t he want you? 

you cover your face before your stylist fixes your makeup, you ask for a few moments and she goes on standby. your head is killing you, you want to cry from frustration, you absolutely want minho. 

he always knew how to make you feel better. 

how come the last time you fought him he kissed you? isn’t he hurting too? why is this so difficult? 

by the time you’re back on stage with the other members, you can’t really stay focused. you trail behind anyone and everyone down the stage when some of the songs are free reign across the stage. you stick to jisung, the second closest member to you… well, maybe the first one now that minho wants nothing to do with you. 

you watch him across the stage. 

during the song there’s a beat pause. everyone looks at each other playfully, but minho’s eyes latch onto your gaze. 

you smile at him, painful but yearning. 

he at least has the decency to wave back. 

and the flame of hope ignites in your heart again. 

your life feels suffocating. 

you can’t remember how many times you’ve been seen only as gayoung’s boyfriend. the idol with an outed relationship that bloomed from a drama. you get back to korea. you fly out for concerts. you fly out for interviews. 

it’s constant movement. 

everyone found out your nosebleeds come from stress and your lack of sleep. chan knows the most of it, he does lack sleep too. still, your life is busy even with not scenes to shoot. 

minho isn’t handling that well. he hasn’t exactly stepped up to confront you about the situation between the two of you. nor has he approached you on terms outside of fan service. it’s not even as often as before, it’s crumbs of what the two of you used to do. ever since you started a relationship there’s constant war between fans when a member is too touchy with you. 

you’re not an object, you don’t belong to gayoung. if only they knew the relationship was strictly a job on top of all your jobs. you were called in for modeling, for drink commercials, a cafe wanted to have a theme with the drama and you and gayoung had to sponsor their promotions for a week. the drinks were okay. 

the food was okay.

nothing could beat minho’s cooking. sadly, you don’t think you’ll ever get the chance to eat it ever again. you and minho’s situation hasn’t gotten better nor worse. it’s just.. still. 

you often stare at your ceiling at night when you have the luxury to be home early to rest. it’s not often but when you do… your mind drifts. 

to how soft minho’s lips are. to the hunger you two had demonstrated. the way his soft breathes ignited a fire in your stomach. he took that chance and built a wall between the two of you. 

“yah,” a voice calls out.

you jump, sitting up and whipping around to face your door. 

“i made dinner.” 

you look at the door as if minho opened it and stared at you. he’s behind the wooden pallet. he’s talking to you. your body twitches before you stiffen. 

no.

you can’t. 

you’ve waited all these months for this but you just can’t. something won’t let you. is it your self restraint? you don’t want to fight again. if you tried to bring up the topic he’d run away. he’ll somehow blame you. he’ll do everything possible to keep you at a miles distance. 

he’s just being a coworker. 

he’s obligated to show interest and care. 

“i know you’re awake,” minho says.

is his voice trembling? 

“i’m good.” you say softly, staring at the bottom of the door to see his shadow. it’s loud enough for him to hear. 

if you accepted, two things could happen. you argue and make things worse. or you lose all control and take the riskiest bet of them all. 

neither is good. 

you don’t particularly care for your fame. you have enough in your bank to survive if you get fired or blacklisted. you have backup plans. yet, you’re not ready for it yet. you’re just waiting on minho to accept that he’s the one at fault, even if it’s indirectly.

when that will happen? you don’t know. maybe him wanting to eat a cooked meal was it. yet, your instincts tell you not now. 

so you lay back down, hearing minho huff and stomp away. 

he definitely thinks you hate him. you love him, but you want him to feel a little sting. it’s nothing compared to the scalding he gave you months ago, but giving him a little taste of his medicine won’t hurt.

at least you don’t hope so. 

he has to reach out the right way. 

and… you close your eyes and toss and turns…. and if he doesn’t do it before you finally decide, then you’ll have no choice to make the move. 

just a little longer…

you hope your heart handles it. 

he doesn’t near you. you’re used to it now, despite how much it hurts you. 

it’s the end of the year and all of you are preparing for the award shows. you have many to attend— mma , mama, the baeksang arts awards. probably some more. 

the biggest is mama. it’s one of the ones at the end of the year. the acting award is in may, or so you heard. thing is you’re a nominee and they’ll announce that further on, right now your main focus is the award shows of the month of december. it’s a stressful time, but not as stressful as when you were fresh of the drama. 

since last month, you’ve had more time to breathe. to sleep too. 

you do have the obligation to keep going on dates with gayoung. instead of being home alone with minho when jisung is stuck in the studio you choose to hang out with her. unknown to you- that hurts minho. well, maybe you do know. 

“sound check done, thank you!” 

all of you bow. 

“hyung!” changbin runs to you, “i’m hungry!”

“yeah! me too!” seungmin yells. 

you smile, adoring how cute changbin looks as he clings to your side. “and what do you want to eat? we have to start getting ready for our performance tonight.”

“crab!” changbin pouts. 

“i want something else,” hyunjin argues. 

you laugh, “just order what you want… you know where my card is…” everyone screams happily, “and remember to watch your intake, i don’t need anyone with an upset stomach during or after performance. also!” you point at them, “just buy food, i don’t want to recieve a bill of some video game purchase.” you eye felix who whistles.

minho simply watches you from afar. these past few months weren’t easy. still, he can’t bring himself to face you yet. why would he? your life is as perfect as it gets— you have a successful acting and idol career. you have a beautiful girlfriend. you have millions of doting fans. what would he speak to you for? his feelings? those are worth nothing for you, it’s destroy your image. 

assuming you really did mean what you said all those months ago, what benefit would you get? he can’t do that to you. he can’t bear to think that you’d leave everything you worked so hard to build just for him… if he had ever said yes. 

but he knows better. 

and he knows his spot is exactly where he’s in- watching you from afar. seeing you work as an idol beside him. 

“alright guys, let’s go show them what we’re made of,” chan says with a whoop. 

minho simply won’t intervene. 

despite how much rest you’ve had compared to a few months back, you still don’t feel your best. still, your performance is full of energy and charisma. the whole performance is full of crazy moves and entrances. the acts hyunjin and you pulled were the highlights of the whole stage. 

by the second act, your place was to do a flip between two dancers, so that they would soon do a dance break with you. you’d have to wait for a few moments until felix finishes his line and everyone files to the side for you to do your part. 

you’ve rehearsed this plenty of times, you know when to enter and when to wait. you know how many steps to take and when to turn. when to breathe and when to blink.

yet, you take the wrong step and fall six feet off the platform stage. bodyguards run to you as you groan, your trembling arms helping you push yourself off the ground. jeongin’s worried eyes are on you, he’s hidden from the amount of dancers before him. 

“are you okay!?” a staff asks as they help you get to your feet. 

you had fallen on your hands and knees. the impact was rough but the adrenaline makes it feel like you’re fine. your hand hurts bad though, or is it your wrist? you just stare down at your shaking hands, scratched and getting red. you wobble, your knees almost giving out. you need to get back on stage-

the dance break starts. 

“help me get up!” you yell, panting. 

“if you’re injured we have to-“

“you have to walk all the way around-“

“y/n-ssi you need to get checked-“

everyone is talking but not moving. you growl, grabbing a bodyguard and your stare was enough for everyone to get the gist. they hunch over and hook their hands to give you leverage, your foot wobbles from weak balance as you boost yourself up with their help. clearly everyone is confused and worried, yet you crawl onto the stage and quickly get on your feet. 

the impact is starting to reveal where you’re hurt. your ankle is probably sprained, each step is killing you. your shoulder aches, your elbows sting. 

still, you run and when your backup dancer catch you on their peripheral vision, they immediately step back to sync with you when you backflip and spin to the floor in a breakdance pattern. it’s the final steps of the formation you were supposed to perform, yet it still blew everyone away and regained the attention of everyone. 

going through the rest of the choreography was killing you. it took everything in you to not wobble as you did your lines and performed with the rest of the members. 

the worst part? was that after forcing yourself to stand still for approximately one minute as the performance comes to an end for the cameras to stop rolling, you lose your balance when going down the stairs and once more, you fall from the three foot high staircase that lead to the backstage. 

“hyung!” jeongin cries out, catching everyone’s attention. 

medical staff already surround you as you lay on the floor, groaning and grunting. 

“what’s going on?” minho asks, eyes wide and his heart pounding. 

“hyung fell off the stairs!” changbin exclaims.

“he also fell off the stage,” jeongin sobs, “and he still hopped on and kept going-“

“hey, hey, let’s let them work,” chan says, gathering the kids away despite his anxiety skyrocketing. 

minho doesn’t budge at first, his glassy eyes fixated on your body as the medics put you on a stretcher when you say how much it hurts to move. he’s worried sick, you really pushed yourself that bad? he can’t wonder if you’re insane or passionate. no one really enjoys the rest of the ceremony. during the speech chan mentions how passionate they are for their dream, even mentioning how y/n pushed himself to give the best performance even when he shouldn’t have. 

back in the dorms chan texts the chat, saying you had dislocated your left shoulder and wrist. you’re bruised on your elbows and knees, the height would have fractured them but you had placed all your weight in the impact in your hands, causing one wrist to suffer more. two to three months until you’re fully recovered. 

they still have to perform. minho can’t help but cry, he knows very well the company will make you keep going through promotions and schedules no matter how hurt you are. 

and he’s nervous. how will he put aside his actions in order to care for you? you live right next to his room, how could he feign interest when you’ll be in need of assistance for a while? hyunjin was the same, so how could he not intervene? 

his biggest fear is this— what if you don’t let him? 

he’d deserve it of course. you have every right to refuse his help and care. 

it gnaws at him for the three days straight that you’re in the hospital. it was per your request to stay for a little longer. how will he face you? is now the right time? no. yes? 

he isn’t sure if he’s crying from guilt, self hatred or anxiety anymore. so when he hears your familiar footsteps inside the dorm he freezes. jisung is with chan and changbin again, coincidentally saying he’ll be home extremely late, he enters a frenzy. 

he hears your gruttal sigh as you walk inside your room, your door closes. 

well. it’s now or never. 

you either reject him all together — reject what? he doesn’t know. he has no idea what he’s going to say, no idea if he’ll ask to console you or to apologize for what happened or what. something has to be done, though, and if you never let him get close to you again then he’ll understand that it’s the consequences of his actions. 

he takes a deep breath as he heads out of his room. he swallows the knot in his throat when he stands before your door. 

“leave me alone, minho,” you say before his fist even makes contact with your door to knock. 

he stares at the door as if it was it that spoke to you that way. “y/n… i-“

“just leave me alone they way you said you would. you don’t need me so i don’t need you either.”

minho breathes shallow, “y-you don’t mean that-“

“the fuck do you want?” you groan, “what? i get hurt and now you decide to speak to me?”

your voice cracks at the end of your grievance. it breaks minho. 

“i’m sorry,” he sobs, “i shouldn’t have been selfish! i shouldn’t have hurt you like that!  shouldn’t have shut you out!”

he hiccups and takes a step back when you open the door. through blurry sight, he looks at you. you stare down at him, why are your eyes so tender? 

“but you did…”

“i just knew if i didn’t i’d have no restraint,” he sniffles, “i love you.” he whispers, looking down at the floor, “seeing you with her hurt so much. knowing you smell like her made me nauseous. knowing she was your new focus made me feel like i didn’t belong in your life anymore-“

“minho,” you grab his chin with your free hand, tilting his face up. “why does it take me getting hurt for you to speak to me again?” 

minho shakes his head, “i just can’t come between you and gayoung-“

“me and gayoung are dating by contract, not because i love her.” you confess, finally letting that out. “you think i want to be with her?” 

minho pushes your hand away, hot tears streaming down his face again. “what will the company think? we won’t work! you have so much to lose and-“

“you think i give a damn about all of this!?” you push him forward until he’s trapped between you and the wall. “i love you, lee minho.” you stare at his mortified expression, “i stand by what i said. for you, and only you, i’d give up everything.” 

“your career-“

“none of this means nothing if you’re not in it!” you grab his chin again, “you don’t have to love me back, you don’t have to accept my feelings! just, just talk to me again, please,” you beg, your own eyes glassing over, “don’t just be my coworker, be my friend again. be my safe place again. i-i’ll put away my feelings for you, we can forget that i love you but don’t shut me out again.” 

“y/n…” he stares at you, realizing how truly broken you’ve been since that day. 

“that’s what i meant that day… none of this is worth it if the one person that made me feel like i belonged isn’t with me.” 

“oh, y/n…” his bottom lip trembles, “have we really been that blind?”

you close your eyes and sigh, “i understand you’re scared of the public eye…”

“i am…” he whimpers. 

“but i’d walk through fire if it meant i’d have you as mine for the rest of my life.” 

he locks eyes with you, drowning in the warmth of your orbs. his heart hammers in his chest again, would he do the same? what is he really scared of? loving you and risking his career? 

no, he concludes. 

“y/n….” he says shallowly before leaning in to kiss you. 

he’s scared of losing you and realizing everything he has isn’t worth that. 

you kiss him with passion. his soft lips syncing with yours, saliva mixing with yours as your tongue grazes his. your hands grab his waist and pull him flush against you.

“ngh- y-your wrist-“ he tries to say as you eat his mouth. 

“don’t care,” you grumble as you attack his lips without remorse. 

the pesty sting in your bone doesn’t matter when he’s finally in your arms. his whimpers and moans make you want more. you know he’ll sound even more beautiful beneath you in the sheets, taking all you have to offer. 

just the thought accelerates your heart rate. the beautiful man you’ve always wanted is finaly before you. the kiss means more than a confession. you place your hands behind his thighs, he makes a noise when you lift him up. 

“ah- your shoulder-!”

“it’s okay baby, what you make me feel is bigger than the pain,” you tease as you carry him to your bed. 

he can’t scold you or complain because you attack his mouth again. you grin into the kiss as you sit on the edge of the bed with him on your lap. it’s probably the hottest thing minho will ever experience. he straddles your waist for more comfort in this position, hands running through your hair as you kiss along his jawline. when you kiss a certain spot, he twitches and whines. 

with a lazy smile, you pull away and look at him. 

“let me take you,” you beg softly, panting.

he swallows, looking down at the tent in your shorts. “but gayoung-“

“can you stop mentioning her?” you growl, pulling him down by the hips so that your boner pokes him through his joggers. “she will never have me the way you can.” you kiss his ear, making him shiver, “the way you will.”

“i’m scared,” he voices out. he wraps his arms around your neck, “i-i want to say yes but… there will be no going back, y/n…”

“it was never a choice,” you say.

and he lets you push him down onto the bed. 

🏷️ TAG LIST — @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @gnusihcom @minholover1 @lucianidealz @desafortuno @missvanjii @lisaswifey @yongbokkk

©OIMITOCAT

©VICTORBUTNOTREALLY

[sidekick-hero]

It's finally here, my entry for the @steddiesummerexchange. This is a gift for my dear friend @starryeyedjanai - I was so delighted when I found out you were my giftee 💜💜💜 Your prompt 'Steve can't get his inheritance until he marries someone' really tested me and took me out of my writing comfort zone. I hope you like it and that I did your prompt justice! Special shout out to the best beta in the whole world, @acasualcrossfade 💜🙏

Pairings: Steve/Eddie, Robin/Chrissy Characters: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Chrissy, Max, Dustin, Wayne Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake Marriage, Platonic Stobin, Platonic Hellcheer, idiot4idiot, Friends to Husbands to Lovers, Humor and Fluff and a smudge Angst

Summary:

When Steve's grandmother dies, he finds out that he can only get his inheritance - half a million dollars - if he marries someone. It's her way of forcing Steve to live a heterosexual life. Sucks for her that gay marriage has been legalized since she wrote her will. Sucks for Steve that he doesn't have a man or woman in his life to marry. Cue Eddie Munson, roommate and best friend of Robin's girlfriend Chrissy and the guy Steve has had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong?

Read on AO3 - the fic is finished and has 4 chapters, the last one will drop June 24

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 1 (5.6k) under the cut

"Rob! Robbie!" Steve yells as he walks into their two-bedroom apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. "Robin Juniper Buckley, where are you?"

He hears the telltale clatter of dishes and sure enough, he finds his roommate and best friend in their tiny kitchen washing the dishes. It's his turn to do them, but his schedule has been hell this week. He's been spending so much time at the firehouse cooking for a crew of five to twelve perpetually hungry firemen and women that the thought of cleaning up their kitchen at home has made him want to cry.

"I'm here doing the dishes, because if I didn't, we could have proven Darwin's theories right here in our kitchen." Despite the scolding words, she doesn't look particularly angry at him, and he figures he'll be forgiven in no time. She knows he's been working himself into the ground lately, pulling double shifts whenever his boss will let him. Living in Chicago is expensive enough, but Steve also has to think about Max's education. There's no way his little sister can't live up to her full potential just because their parents are assholes who stopped caring about their children the second they turned out not to be the perfect son and daughter Richard and Emily Harrington wanted them to be.

He walks up to her and hugs her sideways, resting his head on her shoulder for a moment as he mumbles, "'m sorry, Robs. I'll make it up to you."

She sighs, and he knows he's already forgiven. "I know you will. It's okay. Not like I forgot to do something once or twice."

He leans back to look at her for full effect, waggling his eyebrows. "Oh, like when you started dating Chrissy and were so busy having sex that you barely left your room or her apartment?"

Robin swats at him with the towel slung over her shoulder, but there's a smile on her face at the memory.

"Okay, now that we've established that you're jealous that I have an incredibly sexy and wonderful girlfriend," Robin says, ignoring his indignant Oi!, "do you want to tell me why you stormed in here yelling out my full name, which I've clearly forbidden you to use except in emergencies?"

Her question brings back the excitement that propelled him from the grocery store to her apartment in record time, and reminds him of the news he's been dying to share with her in person, rather than by phone or text message. He needs to see her reaction firsthand.

Taking hold of Robin's shoulders, he locks eyes with her azure gaze, unable to contain the grin that splits his face in two. "She’s gone!"

Robin blinks in confusion, prompting him to clarify. "Grandma Harrington, she's kicked the bucket, bit the dust, you name it."

A puzzled expression lingers on Robin's face momentarily before realization dawns. "No way! She... really?"

Unable to contain his excitement, Steve gives her a gentle shake. "Yes, really. Grandma Harrington finally called it quits."

They look at each other, their grins widening until they both look like madmen. Steve is aware that all of this is probably a highly inappropriate way to react to the death of a human being, but Eleanor Harrington had been the worst human being Steve or Robin had ever had the displeasure of meeting in their lives.

She had visited her son and daughter-in-law infrequently over the years, never giving them much warning when she was coming over and occupying one of their guest rooms for the unforeseeable future. More than once, Steve had come home to find her sitting at the kitchen table or on the sofa, staring at him with her judgmental gaze, disappointed in him before he even crossed the threshold. Any friend who had the misfortune to accompany him was ordered to sit with her and be interrogated, always found wanting as her grandson's companion. Everyone was beneath a Harrington, even Tommy, even though his father was a lawyer. ‘Too many freckles and that awful grin’ was one reason, ‘I don't like the way he looks at you, Steven, too greedy’ was another.

Robin, who had become a permanent fixture in Steve’s life after becoming his project partner in one of their shared classes his junior year, hadn’t fared any better. To this day, Steve has no idea how Grandma Harrington found out that Robin was queer, because at that point Robin hadn't even been out to her parents, only Steve. But when she did, she had spit at Robin. Steve had lost it then, too angry, too hurt to think rationally. He had thrown caution to the wind and come out to her, too, even though the thought of liking boys was still new to him, something he was still trying on to see how it would fit.

He doesn't even know what he expected to get out of it. Certainly not acceptance or even approval, no matter how much a part of him still craved that from his family. The only thing he got was her calling them both horrible names and saying such cruel things that Steve had to hold Robin and wipe away her tears afterwards.

That episode alone was reason enough for Steve to hate the old woman. Never mind that she had raised his father to be a bigoted, heartless man who had never learned what it meant to truly love anyone, not even his own son or daughter.

When their faces begin to ache from smiling, Robin shrugs casually, as though dismissing the significance of the moment. But Steve knows better. He knows the weight of hurt and resentment they both carry because of that woman.

"Rest in peace, I suppose," Robin remarks with an air of detachment, and Steve can only offer a noncommittal hum in response, realizing that any words he might speak would only add to the inappropriate nature of their conversation.

"Alright, so what does this mean for you, Steve?" Robin asks, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Is this going to change how you deal with your family?" She pauses briefly before adding, "And what about your inheritance?"

Steve offers a slight shrug, his expression turning pensive. "I'm not entirely sure yet, Robs," he begins, his tone serious despite the lingering excitement from their earlier celebration. "I mean, I guess it means I don't have to deal with her anymore, which is definitely a relief. But as for the rest of the family, I don't know. They've never been particularly warm or welcoming to me, you know that. I mean, you’ve been there when they wanted to send me to a psychiatrist to help me get over being queer. I doubt they've changed much since then."

Robin nods in understanding, recalling the numerous tales Steve had shared about his family's cold demeanor and their refusal to accept him for who he is. She reaches out, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I mean, you know she was loaded. So yeah, there is an inheritance, but -" Steve continues, his gaze distant as he contemplates the implications. "There's a condition in Grandma Harrington's will. I can only inherit if I marry someone.”

Robin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Marry? Seriously? That seems archaic, unfair, and downright manipulative."

Steve lets out a wry chuckle. "Tell me about it. Grandma always did enjoy her control games. It's probably her way of trying to mold me into the perfect, straight grandson."

"You've got to be kidding me! Seriously? You... what, have to marry some woman so you can be the perfectly acceptable heterosexual son and grandson your family always wanted? Fuck off!" Despite the heavy topic, Steve can't help but smile at Robin's outrage on his behalf. He could always count on her. After all, she was there to pick up the pieces when his parents told him in no uncertain terms to either learn to be straight or leave.

He left and lived with the Buckleys until Robin graduated and they moved to Chicago together. It was the best decision he could have made, even if it still hurts some days.

For a moment, they both fall silent, each lost in their thoughts. Then Robin squeezes his hand again. "We'll figure it out, Steve. We always do. And hey, maybe this is the perfect opportunity to really stick it to them."

"What do you mean?"

A devilish grin spreads across Robin's face. "Tell me, does her will say that you have to marry someone, or that you have to marry a woman to get your inheritance?"

Oh.

Oh.

Steve looks at Robin, his eyes wide with sudden understanding. “You’re a genius, Buckley,” he says, grinning. “I think it’s time for us to pay my attorney a visit.”

Turns out Robin is right. It seems that Grandma Harrington wrote her will at a time when gay marriage was still illegal in most states, and never thought to change it after the courts made it legal in Indiana and Illinois in 2014.

Steve's lawyer, who he honestly couldn't afford if it wasn't for the fact that she was an old family friend, agreed to help him pro bono just to give his bigoted parents the middle finger, as her sister was a lesbian. She said that the requirements of the will would be met if Steve married a woman as well as a man. As long as it was a legally recognized marriage, he would get close to half a million dollars. Enough to pay for Max's education, the rest of Robin's student loans, and maybe even a small house here in Chicago for him and Max once she was done with college and wanted to live with him until she was ready to be on her own.

The only problem was that Steve didn't have anyone to marry, woman or man.

His last serious relationship had been in high school, for crying out loud. Not for lack of trying. Steve loved love, but love apparently didn't love Steve back. Robin insists that's because he's sabotaging himself. She thinks deep down he's afraid of getting hurt again, so he only falls for people who a) he can't have or b) are a terrible match outside the bedroom.

She might have a point, he thinks in his more introspective moments. He has no shortage of options, and he always finds someone to hook up with, but he rarely makes it past the second date.

"Maybe you could hire someone?" Robin suggests, sipping her Dirty Shirley. After seeing John for some legal advice, they had gone straight to their favorite bar to hold a strategic summit over drinks.

So far, they have only made it to the drinking part.

Sighing deeply, Steve considers the idea for a second before shaking his head vehemently. "No way. I'm not paying some stranger to marry me. It's probably illegal anyway, and it sounds a lot like prostitution."

He knows it's the wrong thing to say when Robin raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "And what, Steven, is wrong with prostitution?"

"Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with it. A job like any other job,” he hastily assures her.

His answer seems to satisfy her and he knows she's right. It's just that sometimes the things he's been raised to believe, thanks to his extremely conservative parents, are hard to leave behind. They have a tendency to bubble back to the surface when he least expects it.

"That's what I thought. But I get it, it feels wrong to pay someone to marry you."

"Exactly. And I mean, it's about trust. Who guarantees that they won't double-cross me somehow and run off with all the money? I can't risk that."

He looks over at his best friend, his platonic soul mate, whom he trusts with his life and, more importantly, his little sister's life. Right now, he thinks, there’s only one person he could imagine being married to.

"How about we get married?"

He regrets it as soon as he asks.

Not because he thinks Robin wouldn’t do it, but because of the two of them, she is the one in a loving, stable relationship that could very well end in marriage one day. It's unfair of him to put her in a situation where she feels like she has to choose between Steve and Chrissy.

Worst of all, he knows she still wants to say yes to him. He can see it in the soft, sad way she looks at him. They both know they'll spend the rest of their lives together anyway. The simple truth of both their lives is that they would do anything for each other, walk through fire, face any horror the world could throw at them, just to see each other happy. And it's not like they couldn't get a divorce later, so Robin could still marry Chrissy, sure. But it would take something from her.

"Steve, I -"

"No, wait, don't answer that. It was a stupid idea, I shouldn't -"

"It's not stupid, it's just -"

As they talk over each other, their voices clash until they both instinctively reach over, silencing each other with a hand over their mouths at the same time. Their wide-eyed surprise quickly gives way to laughter as they realize the absurdity of the situation.

Steve is the first to recover from their fit of laughter, quickly sobering up to reassure Robin in a mild voice. "Seriously, Robs, I shouldn't have asked you to do this because it puts you in a shitty position. I know how much you love Chrissy and it wouldn't be fair to either of you. Especially when the two of you could finally get legally married. I don't want to take that away from you and make you agree to a fake heterosexual marriage like it was the 80's."

She looks at him with her big blue eyes, impossibly soft, and takes his hand in hers.

"Steve," she begins, her voice as gentle as her gaze, "thank you. For getting it, I mean. It wouldn't be all fake, though. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But you're right, I'm not in love with you and you're not in love with me. And we both deserve to marry someone we feel that way about. In a perfect world, we would. I mean, I don't even know if Chrissy would ever want to marry me, but," Robin stops here, her eyes widening in sudden realization. "Oh my God, Steve!" Robin cries out in excitement and wonder, her reaction clearly colored by the strong cocktails their favorite bar always provided, before her voice becomes softer again, but no less wondrous. "I really want to marry her. I want to marry Chrissy so badly, Steve, I can't believe I didn't know.”

"And I can't believe you're realizing this after I asked you to marry me. Way to keep a guy's ego in check," Steve jokes with a big grin on his face. It's less news to him than it is to Robin, to be honest. Ever since Robin stumbled into their apartment with a piece of paper in her hand with a number on it, gushing about the gorgeous woman she had just met at the bookstore where she works, Steve knew his best friend was completely smitten with Chrissy Cunningham. That was four years ago, and they are still going strong, obviously madly in love.

She throws her arms around him and says, "I'm sorry," not sounding sorry at all, still giddy with her newfound realization. "I'll make it up to you. I actually might have an idea how we can get you your inheritance and still stick it to Grandma Harrington."

"I sense a but."

"But I can't guarantee it'll work."

"And..."

"And you might not like it at first, but honestly, it's genius, you just have to trust me. And if it really doesn't work out, then we'll get married and you'll pay for my 'I'm-sorry-I-love-you-please-stay-with-me-even-though-I'm-fake-marrying-my-best-friend' vacation with Chrissy. And the divorce."

Maybe it's the three beers he's already had, or maybe it's the fact that Robin would actually marry him just to help him out that makes him agree. He's sure he'll regret it along the way, but maybe he should take a leap of faith. If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't. No way to find out but to try.

Drunk Steve is clearly an optimist.

"I feel like I'm going to regret this, but all right. What's your plan?"

Robin grins mischievously, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she leans back, holding Steve at arm's length.

"Steve Harrington, you won't regret this, I promise," she declares, her tone brimming with confidence.

Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly, unable to suppress a chuckle at Robin's enthusiasm. "I'll hold you to that, Robin. But seriously, when do I get to know the master plan?"

Robin's grin widens, but then she sobers slightly, a hint of seriousness creeping into her expression. "I need to talk to Chrissy first. It's... complicated. But I'll tell you everything as soon as I can, I promise."

Steve nods, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension swirling inside him. "Okay, fine. Just... don't keep me waiting too long, okay? I've had enough surprises for one night."

Robin reaches out, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I won't, Steve. Trust me, this is going to work out. You'll see."

Despite his lingering doubts, Steve can't help but be swayed by Robin's unwavering confidence. With a nod, he squeezes her hand back, a silent agreement passing between them. Whatever Robin's plan entails, he knows his best friend has his back. And maybe, hopefully, they'll come out on top after all.

Drunk Steve should not be allowed to make any decisions, sober Steve decides.

Because he instantly regrets trusting Robin's secretive plan as soon as he steps into their apartment a week later, only to find not just Robin, but also her girlfriend Chrissy and Chrissy's best friend and roommate Eddie lounging in their living room.

All eyes turn towards him as he enters.

Robin's expression is the most transparent. Though the furrow between her brows is subtle, her lip-chewing and rhythmic tapping betray her worry, likely anticipating his reaction to whatever scheme they've concocted.

Chrissy, on the other hand, wears a radiant smile, her bubbly demeanor suggesting she's delighted about something. Yet, Steve can't shake the feeling that her enthusiasm might spell trouble. While he adores Chrissy and cherishes her friendship almost as much as he does Robin’s, he's well aware of her propensity for stirring up mischief.

Their shared history stretches back almost as far as hers and Robin's. It's a tradition for Robin and him to introduce their second dates to each other, one of their many platonic soulmate privileges. Steve often wonders if this practice inadvertently sabotages any chances of a third date, but he's unwilling to compromise on the importance of his friendship with Robin.

In any case, if someone can't accept his slightly unconventional bond with his best friend, they're probably not the right fit for him anyway.

Eddie's expression proves the most enigmatic. He appears utterly deer-in-the-headlights, his wide brown eyes resembling those of a startled doe. His usually pale complexion now seems even more ghostly. Steve notices how Eddie's fingers have been incessantly tousling his hair, rendering his dark curls resembling more of a chaotic bird's nest. Steve recognizes this as one of Eddie's nervous ticks, alongside fidgeting and rambling. His suspicions of Eddie's unease appear justified as Eddie avoids meeting Steve's gaze, opting instead to stare down at his hands, absently toying with his rings.

Something is going on and Steve has a sinking feeling that he won't like it.

"Um, hi?" He offers tentatively, his gaze flitting between Robin, Chrissy, and the nervously fidgeting Eddie. "Am I missing something here? Is this an early birthday surprise? Because if it is, I hate to break it to you, but my birthday's not for another nine months."

Before Robin can respond, Eddie interjects, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Hey, Steve! Yeah, it's been a while, hasn't it? Nah, no birthday party, man. We definitely know when your birthday is!"

"We do?" Chrissy chimes in with a playful grin, clearly jesting, as Steve knows she's the one who meticulously keeps track of important dates in their circle.

Eddie, caught off guard by Chrissy's banter, stumbles over his words. "Uh, yeah, of course! February 23rd. Remember that baseball-themed cake from last year? I almost dropped it on the icy ground!"

Steve remembers it too, mostly because he was so chuffed to learn that in order to save his cake, Eddie had taken the fall instead, choosing to land on his admittedly not very well padded backside so that the cake could live. He had been unable to sit properly at their little gathering all evening. Steve had felt sorry for him, but also fond in the face of Eddie's sacrifice for him.

"It's so good to see you, Steve. You look great today, that shirt really makes your eyes pop. Doesn't it, Eddie?" Chrissy gushes, nudging Eddie's side as he just stares at Steve in a way that makes Steve worry that he's about to go into cardiac arrest.

Eddie's mouth opens and closes like a fish. "Um..."

"Okay, what's going on, Robin?" Steve turns to the only person who doesn't act like she's on drugs or caught red-handed at a crime scene. Or both.

Robin, bless her soul, doesn't beat around the bush. "I told you I had a plan. This," and she points to Eddie of all people, "is my plan."

"That's Eddie," Steve states the obvious, but he feels he can't be blamed. Nothing makes sense, so he's glad for every single thing he knows. Then the rest of her statement sinks in.

Blinking at her, his eyes wide, he says the first thing that comes to mind. "You can't be serious!"

There's no way she's saying what he thinks she's saying. Because right now it looks like her plan to help him get his inheritance involves marrying Eddie. Which, no. No, no, no, no. Not Eddie. Maybe she means some other plan that Steve has forgotten. Like Eddie helping him with Dustin's birthday surprise, which sounded much more likely than -

"I told you he didn't want to marry me," Eddie's voice sounds loud in the stunned silence after Steve's reaction. "This was a stupid idea, I don't even know what I was thinking." Then, addressing Steve with his eyes somewhere to Steve's right, "Listen, man, I'm sorry. I totally get it, no hard feelings, okay? I wouldn't want to marry me either."

The wry chuckle doesn't sit well with Steve, nor does the way Eddie still refuses to meet his eyes, or the fact that he's started walking toward their front door. Before he can think about it, his hand wraps around Eddie's arm as he passes Steve on his way out.

"Eddie, wait." Eddie does, looking at Steve's hand wrapped around his forearm. Steve's grip isn't tight, so Eddie could easily break free, but he doesn't. He just looks, quietly waiting. Still not meeting Steve's eyes.

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I was just surprised, okay? A little warning would have been nice." The last part is mostly for Robin, who at least does look contrite at his words.

"It's fine, Steve, really. Don't worry about it. Now, if you'll excuse me. Places to be, things to do, see you when I see you, you know the drill."

Steve could let him go, maybe should let him go, because Eddie is obviously embarrassed and the whole situation has gone south anyway. But Eddie doesn't sound fine, and Steve feels terrible about his lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. Something that is usually Robin's specialty.

So instead of letting Eddie walk out of the apartment, Steve steps in front of him to block his way. "Eddie, please wait. I really didn't mean it the way you think I did, you have to believe me. You're a catch, okay? Anybody would be lucky to marry you."

And okay, wow, he didn't mean to say that, but it's the truth.

"You really mean that?" Eddie asks, pulling a strand of hair in front of his mouth. It looks incredibly cute and Steve wants to kill Robin for putting him in this position. She had said that he would not like her plan and that should have been reason enough for him to stop her. Because now he's between a rock and a hard place.

Either he lies and lets Eddie walk away thinking he's not good enough to be married, even if it is a scam to get his grandmother's inheritance. Or he tells the truth and risks getting his heart broken or their friendship ruined.

Because the thing is, Steve means every word. Steve has had a crush on Eddie for years. He's been able to keep those feelings in check because he and Eddie never spend time alone together. It's always group hangouts, or Eddie being there when he and Robin visit Chrissy, or Eddie joining them when they meet at their apartment. It also helps that Eddie keeps his distance from him. Sure, he's nice enough to Steve, but every time Steve tried to get close to the other man, his efforts were rebuked until he got the memo and stopped trying.

Before he can come to a decision, Robin steps in.

“I’m sorry we’re springing this on you, Steve. I could’ve prepared this a little bit better but Chrissy and I were so excited that we found the perfect solution, we couldn’t wait any longer.”

“And this is the perfect solution,” Chrissy jumps in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Tell him Robin!”

Infected by Chrissy's enthusiasm, Robin’s voice carries an equally excited note. “You said it yourself, you’d need someone we can trust. And you trust Eddie, don’t you?”

Steve can feel Eddie’s eyes on him. “Of course I do.” He doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath next to him at his decisive tone. Eddie’s a great guy, him rejecting Steve’s advances doesn’t change that.

Of course he trusts him because Eddie never gave him any reason not to.

But he remembers the stories Chrissy told them to explain why Eddie was a little wary of Steve. Apparently, Eddie didn't have it easy growing up. Chrissy wouldn't go into details because it's Eddie's story to tell, but she did mention that people used to treat Eddie like a criminal, a fuckup, trailer trash. Especially the jocks and rich kids at their high school, so since Steve was kind of both, Eddie had been wary of him.

So much so that Steve had overheard Eddie asking Chrissy once, early in her relationship with Robin, why Robin kept bringing that rich asshole jock over all the time. The words had hurt, but Chrissy's explanation had softened the blow. Still, he'd stopped trying to flirt with Eddie after that because he'd figured that even if Eddie came to accept him, he'd never be interested in going out with someone who reminded him so much of all the bullies in high school who had made his life a living hell.

All of which makes it easy to see how Steve's implicit trust could come as such a surprise to him. Which still kind of stings, because Steve had hoped that the last four years had shown Eddie that Steve was not what Eddie expected him to be just because he grew up rich and popular and into sports.

Before he can get lost in his thoughts about Eddie and what he has to do to earn Eddie's trust the way Eddie has his, Chrissy chimes in again, raising a finger. "So you trust Eddie. That's like the most important thing. Second," she raises another finger, making a playful peace sign in their direction, "Eddie's single. Not like Robin."

Ah, okay, Steve can see why Chrissy is so excited about her and Robin's 'plan'.

"'m sorry, Chrissy, for proposing to your girlfriend," Steve sheepishly apologizes, giving her a crooked smile, which she returns with a sunny one of her own.

"No hard feelings. I get it, believe me. Being with Robin means being stuck with you. Just like Robin is stuck with Eddie. Which is the third reason why this is a great idea," she adds, raising another finger. "We all spend a lot of time together already. Nothing really needs to change."

Aside from the fact that Steve secretly wishes things could change between him and Eddie, he's not so sure that's true. But to argue her point would mean revealing more about his feelings than he's comfortable with, so he lets it slide for now.

Objectively, Steve knows they're right. If he didn't still feel... something for Eddie, he probably wouldn't even hesitate. Because yes, he trusts Eddie not to screw him over, and he's also a close acquaintance who's been teetering on the edge of being a real friend for years. But he's also the reason Steve had to leave last year's Friendsgiving party early because Eddie showed up with some guy who couldn't keep his sleazy hands off of him. It drove Steve crazy to see someone else have what he wanted so badly.

In the end, it is the thought of being able to give Max all the chances she deserves that finally makes him look back at Eddie.

"And you're sure you want to do this? Fake marry me, I mean. Because, Eddie... I can't tell you how much I appreciate you being willing to do this to help me out, but... you don't have to do this, okay? It's not your mess or your fucked up family, it's mine."

Finally, Eddie is looking back at him, meeting his eyes.

"I do. Wanna do this, I mean. I know I don't have to, but -" Here Eddie pauses, apparently searching for the right words. After a few seconds he breathes a sigh and continues. "Look, for once, I love the idea of sticking it to an old homophobic hag, so that's a big incentive. Also, I was actually hoping you could help me out as well. Because there's this amazing record store that's for sale, but the bank refuses to give me a loan unless I have some kind of collateral. So I'm kind of hoping that being married will sway them."

At Steve's surprised look, Eddie hastens to add, "I don't want your money! That's for you and Max. Just the fact that I'm married to someone with money will probably be enough. And we can totally do a prenup or something like that."

Eddie sounds anxious, like he's afraid he's said something wrong, when in fact he's doing Steve a huge favor and asking for something incredibly small in return. Steve thinks he can't be blamed at this point, he just has to touch Eddie. So he does, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Eddie. Really. Of course we can go to your bank and convince them to give you the loan. It's the least I can do to thank you."

It feels good to be holding Eddie like this, even more so when, after a moment's hesitation, Eddie hugs him back. Even though they've known each other for years, Steve can count the times they've done this on one hand. It's never lasted this long either, and Steve can't suppress his disappointment when Robin interrupts the quiet moment by clapping her hands excitedly, causing Eddie to pull away.

"Oh, I'm so glad we worked it out. Go us!"

Chrissy, just as excited, jumps up and down next to Robin. "I'm so happy for you guys! We can totally help you plan the wedding. It's going to be great, I know it."

Steve and Eddie look at each other in growing confusion.

"Chris," Eddie begins, his voice careful. He's clearly more experienced in dealing with an overly excited Chrissy, so Steve lets him take the lead. "You do realize that Steve and I are only getting married on paper, right? I don't think -"

"You can still have a wedding!" Chrissy interrupts, clearly not deterred by anything silly like pragmatism or logic. "It's still a special day, and you deserve to celebrate it with your friends and family."

Before Steve can say anything - what, he has no idea - Robin jumps in on the ‘you should have a real wedding’ party.

"Besides, it has to look real, right? Why wouldn't you have a real wedding if you were getting married? Everyone would wonder. It's just easier to pull out all the stops and make it look as real as possible so no one will question it."

And that... actually made a lot of sense. Goddammit.

Looking at Eddie with an apologetic look on his face, Steve says, "I guess she's right," and shrugs his shoulders in a ‘I wish she wasn't, but what can you do’ kind of way. Eddie, to his credit, just sighs and nods, accepting his fate with as much grace as he can. He glances at Chrissy, who is almost vibrating.

"Fine. Chris, do you want to help us plan a wedding?"

She actually squeals. "Yes, yes, yes!" Then she rushes over and pulls them into a group hug.

Steve, looking over Chrissy's head at Robin, opens his arm. "Come here, Buckley." It's all the invitation Robin needs to join their celebratory hug.

For just this moment, Steve allows himself to feel as if this is all real, him and Eddie announcing their wedding and their two best friends in the whole world sharing in their happiness. It's a nice feeling, and when he leans his head on Robin's shoulder and looks at Eddie, he finds him looking back with the same soft smile on his face as the one Steve thinks must be on his own.

[nburkhardt]

Of Scissors & Wild Curls

Trying to beat out my writers block by writing an au troupe I absolutely love reading and haven’t written before. Just a heads up, it’s in modern times just so I don’t have to worry about being accurate to anything in the 80s ✌️ (this was stated on June 16th, when I started it)

anyway enjoy!

It’s the worst day of his entire life.

Right now. This is absolutely the day to end all bad days. It’ll be in his autobiography, it’ll be written in news articles and maybe a movie someday.

He wants to die a million deaths, truly.

It’s The Worst.

…. Or he might be exaggerating a bit. Just a little. Really, it’s not the end of the world.

This time at least.

Look, he’s had a long ass week and had a fight with some idiot taking pictures of him absolutely not falling on his ass. And the record label just told him that they need at least another album before letting the band take a much needed break.

Also, if he’s being truthful here, his writers block is a killer.

There’s a wall just planted in his brain, cutting off any and all lyrics the band needs for another fucking album.

Where was he again? Oh, worst day of his life.

“We’re going to stop in the next town, maybe we can find a place to- help?”

He groans and throws his head back, looking over at Gareth, “dude, my hair is a fucking disaster. There’s no helping that!”

Gareth crosses his arms with a deadpan look, “Ed, I think you’re overreacting a little. It’s just a little piece of gum! It’s not even that far in your hair, maybe this can be a little-“

“Don’t say it!”

“-trim”

He glares at him, “a little trim? This piece of shit is near my goddamn neck, Gare! I CAN FEEL IT! That fucking asshole did it on purpose too, I just know it!”

There’s a little five foot asshole out in the world, that’s his number one enemy now. Slapping him on the back with a “great show, my man!” Before walking away with a snicker. At the moment he didn’t think anything of it, too busy focusing on the fans around him trying to get his attention. His adrenaline and energy buzzing too much to realize something off with that guy.

He didn’t even notice it, it was a goddamn fan to point it out. Because they felt it when they took a picture together.

See? Worst day ever.

Right now they’re in the bus already moving onto the next city for the next concert. He isn’t even sure what’s the next one, all he knows is his hair has fucking gum in it and it’s the worst thing to ever happen to him.

“I still think you’re overreacting just a little, look, maybe there’s a way to get it out without cutting anything. We just have to find a place, there’s a two day break before the next concert. Ok?” Gareth pulls his hands away from his face, “Chris even told our driver to be on the lookout for places already.”

Sighing, he leans back and looks at his best friend, “I guess you’re right”

“I’m always right, dude.”

Rolling his eyes, he gets up and decides to take a nap face down because there’s no way he’s making it worse and getting stuck to his sheets.

Okay so, he’s overreacting a little bit. But he’s been growing his hair out for years now. It’s the perfect length and just wild enough that everyone knows him just by the hair.

It’s his thing, okay?!

A phone is slammed down and he flinches before looking towards the front, “did the phone kill your dog? Or was that-“

Robin whipped her head around a pinched look on her face, “that was goddamn Fran asking for a perm, I swear to god I don’t know how you deal with her! She actually had the nerve to praise you about letting her go so long without paying! She’s scheduled for Friday, because and I quote ‘my hair is straight as a needle’ she doesn’t do shit with her hair, Steve!”

He shakes his head and grabs his water before walking towards her, “Truthfully? I kinda zone out when I’m working on her hair.”

Robin blinked at him before she burst out laughing.

Being one of the only hair salons in their tiny town has some benefits, which is taking some customers that only pay after ranking up to nearly $300. That and he can hire anyone he wants and having a crew of just their friends is a perfect way to deal with the few crazy customers they get.

Oh, and he gets to hang out with them all the time while doing something he actually loves.

When he decided to go to cosmetology school instead of whatever place his dad wanted, he didn’t think he’d end up here. Honestly. His mom told him there was a chance it would go no where, that it’ll just be another thing to add to his list of hobbies.

Baseball, basketball, swimming, drawing and lastly cutting hair.

According to his dad, all of that was pointless. Well, not basketball. To his mom, it just made him look good for future partners. Thankfully their opinions don’t matter to him much anymore, they’re long gone from this tiny town and he’s twenty five now.

Really, he doesn’t need their support or opinions anymore.

“Woah! Dingus come here!” Robin calls out without needing to, the shop is small and he’s just at his station, “there’s your dorky kids jumping around like actual kids”

Rolling his eyes, he stands next to her to find that; yes across the street is the kids- now teenagers jumping around some parked bus. He can’t quite make out what’s on the bus, his vision is shit with letters even with his contacts in. Whatever they’re excited about is probably related to their dragons game.

So definitely nothing he’d understand. Right?

His attention is drawn away from the teens because of the door opening, he spins around with a smile already on his face. “Hello, do you have an appointment today?”

Standing half way in the door is a tiny blonde with a high pony tail and clearly not from around here. He pretty much knows everyone in Hawkins, or at least he knows everyone that comes into his shop.

This person definitely hasn’t been in before, she is adorable though. Totally Robin’s type, actually. Glancing at his best friend, and yep, there’s already hearts in her eyes.

“Hi! No, actually I wanted to see if you did have any openings?” Tiny Blonde smiles and he can see her glance at Robin, “either of you?”

If he could, he’d totally leave Robin to handle this by herself. It’d be pay back for when she ditched him at the bar a few weeks ago, but he’s not that petty. “Technically she can’t cut or color anyone’s hair, but I’m free later. I got a person coming in like twenty minutes. What did you-“

“Actually, it’s for a friend of mine!” She shakes her head and pulls her phone out, glancing at it and typing something quickly before looking back at him, “Can you do like a quick, consult maybe? Not like now, but later?”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin nod her head as if she’s the one going to do it. Rolling his eyes he smiles and moves to the appointment book, taking a quick glance he can technically squeeze in something. “Just a consult?”

“Maybe a trim if all goes well, we could even come in tomorrow if you can’t today. We did just get into town, I’m sure my friend will understand if you can’t” her phone beeps and he can’t tell but it seems like she’s grimacing at whatever was sent, “or maybe you know another place?”

Technically he could send them somewhere else, but he’s curious plus from the glare he can feel from Robin- he glances at her and yep, she’s glaring a hole in his head.

He doesn’t need to ask her that she wants this pretty blonde to come back.

“Nah, you can come back at four. We can chat and figure out what needs or can be done.“ he smiles at her before handing over an appointment card, “I’m Steve, by the way. That’s Robin”

She takes the card with a smile, “Oh! I’m Chrissy, you don’t realize how much this will make my friend’s day. We’ll see you then, it’ll just be you two, right?”

“Yep! See you in a few hours!” Chrissy flashed a bright smile at him then Robin before opening the door and walking away.

He doesn’t even bother looking towards Robin to tell her, “You’ve got it bad”

There’s a loud shriek and then a laugh as Chrissy walks away. She smiles before looking down at her phone to text the good news.

‘Best news of your life right now, four o’clock. Dummy’

‘THANK YOU ❤️🖤’

It’s inching closer and closer to four and Steve isn’t sure if Chrissy just forgot or that her friend decided it wasn’t worth it. Either way, he’s going to clean up now because it’s been a long day and all he wants now is to drink some wine while relaxing on his couch.

He’s listening to Robin vent from across the salon, while cleaning the mirrors. “Despite how pretty she is, if they don’t show up soon I’m closing this place up!”

“It’s not even officially four yet, Robs.” He laughs and turns away from his mirror to clean the chair, “we have like five minutes before we give up on it.”

Robin let’s out a groan, spinning around to point at him with a glare, “It’s Friday night and I have plans, Steven!”

“I hope these plans don’t involve me, Robin. I have to be in here at fucking eight in the morning, I’d like to get at least five hours of sleep” he glares over at her, “the last time we went out and I had to work in the morning, I almost didn’t make it in”

Because of Robin’s loud laughter he nearly misses the door opening, he bounces up with a smile, “hi can I- Chrissy!”

Standing by the front desk is of course, Chrissy along with her is a tall guy with long wild curls standing next to her. He has a pair of sunglasses on and his hands shoved into the leather jacket he has on.

“Hi guys, sorry we didn’t get here sooner there was a crowd and this one couldn’t get passed it withou- ow! Eddie!” She glared at the man, Eddie apparently, and rubbing her arm.

It’s confusing but he’s not going to question it, his relationship with Robin is weird, probably weirder actually. So instead of questioning that he moves closer, “it’s fine, we were just cleaning up real quick. We said just a consult right or did you figure out what you wanted?”

Wordlessly, the two of a conversation right there. Hand movements, head nods and shakes before there’s a bright satisfied smile on Chrissy’s face appears. Eddie looks not upset per-say but definitely like he lost whatever was said in their conversation.

“Yep! He’ll do a trim, but there’s a little problem. You see, someone decided to put gum on his back and-”

Robin’s laughing again while he’s just horrified for Eddie. He can’t help but feel bad for the hair, well, maybe Eddie too. But he hasn’t said a word to them yet, still standing there with his glasses on and now crossing his arms with what looks like a pout on his face. Chrissy’s still talking about the gum and how it’s ruined Eddie’s day and they couldn’t figure out any other way to get it out.

He shakes his head, moving towards his chair and patting it, “well, I can’t figure anything out until you’re sitting in the chair and I get a closer look at the hair”

Eddie looks between the chair and Chrissy, before moving towards him and sitting in the chair. Sunglasses still on his face, a pout very much there as well. Up close, his hair is even more wild than he originally thought. The curls are a mess, that’s clear as he sticks his hand to figure out how much the gum is stuck.

It’s not too terrible, definitely bad but not enough where if he does cut it out, the hair wouldn’t be much different.

There is however, the fact that this guy is clearly not taking proper care of his hair. For as wild as it is, the curls are frizzy and not defined.

“Good news, I could cut the gum out and you’re hair won’t lose too much length or I could also try getting it out using some oil without taking scissors to your hair.”

“And the bad news?”

“You’re not taking proper care of your hair, these curls could be so much more”

He hears Chrissy let out a giggle and Robin’s definitely laughing with her, but his gaze is on Eddie, who’s mouth drops and nearly rips the glasses off to show that his eyes are wide with shock.

Steve can’t help himself, he smiles and lets his own little giggle out.

Eddie looks absolutely ridiculous and Steve might know him, like, at all. But he’s definitely someone he’d like to know eventually, being this dramatic over a little comment? That’s someone worth knowing, he thinks.

———

Ending it there lol.

Wanna know what’s funny? I started this to get out of my writers block and ended up getting it WITH THIS.

So I used wip wednesdays/weekends to push myself along and finally after also talking with @i-less-than-three-you & @strangersteddierthings I’ve decided to make this a two parter! I get to share what I already wrote AND give myself a way to write them actually getting together.

I also wanna shout out @artiststarme for helping me a bit too! They gave me a few suggestions and helped out so thank you to all three of them 🩷 you all are amazing and I love you!!

Tag list! (If you’d like to be added let me know)

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you

@yikes-a-bee @sc00ps-ahoy @geekymagicalpotato @thesuninyaface @penny00dreadful

PS: if you made it this far you get to know that the thing with someone not paying until the bill is up to $300 is a true fucking story. There’s a lady that comes into my work (a hair salon btw) and gets away with coming in for a hair wash or color or perms and doesn’t pay! Idk why my boss continues letting her do this but she does 🤷‍♀️

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind us - Chapter Six

Where we get the boy's reaction to what their manager has done, plus fluff to come in and save the day!

word count: 3.2k

masterlist

warnings: panic attack, anxiety, I think that's it?

While y/n left the studio…

The boys were in their zone at the photoshoot, they were getting praised by the photographer and staff for how quickly the photoshoot was going by. Every shot was perfect, you could say that this was the effect of meeting their soulmate, their energy had increased so much and this was only after a day of having their soulmate with them. They quickly finished the first set of photos, and were sent back to the dressing room to change into their next sets of outfits, only to find that y/n wasn’t waiting for them in the dressing room. 

They asked the stylists if they had seen their last soulmate, only to be told that the last time most of them had seen her was after the boys had left, and before they were all called by the manager to touch up the boys. One of the stylists stayed quiet, and this caused Chan to look at her, to which she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“You saw her after that, didn’t you?” He asked her, looked directly at her, receiving a nod in return. 

“I saw her come out into the photoshoot area, and then one of the managers approached her, and said something. It didn’t seem like it was nice, and shortly after that, I saw her disappear. That’s the last I saw of her.” She explained to the idols. 

“Which manager?” Minho growled. 

“Manager Park Ji-hyuk.” She replied to the angry man, slightly fearful for what he’d do.

The moment Chan and Minho heard the name of the manager, they stormed out of the room, hell bent on kicking their manager’s ass. Their fury was almost palpable, and anyone in their way, quickly jumped out of it, lest they find themselves in the crosshairs of a furious leader and his second in command. 

“PARK JI-HYUK!” Their combined yell was heard throughout the studio and said man turned to see them storming to him.

“Yes boys? What is it?” He asked, knowing exactly why they were upset, but truly, they couldn’t have bonded that quickly with that money hungry child. If they had, well he would just have to make sure the girl quickly found herself on the way back home. They didn’t need distractions like that.

“Where is our soulmate?” Minho asked tersely.

“You mean that girl that’s tricked you all? She left a while ago, as she should have. She’s doing us all a favor by leaving, you don’t need that distraction. She was just money hungry anyways, look at the way she was wearing Yongbok’s clothing.” Ji-hyuk explained to the two men. 

What he didn’t expect was for the leader to slap him. The sound of Chan’s slap echoed throughout the studio, and Ji-hyuk’s head turned to the side due to the force of the slap, leaving a very red mark on the manager’s face.

“She’s our soulmate, you fucking cunt. She wasn’t money hungry, and Felix dressed her in his own clothes that he picked out for her. She didn’t trick us and now you’ve pushed her away from here and us. You better hope we can find her, or you’re going to get it.” Chan said in a calm voice, yet everyone could hear the danger behind that calm voice.

“You’ve gotten so upset over a girl, a simple girl. She screwed up your schedules yesterday, and now we’re running out of time for this shoot today. Let her go. If she doesn't want to be here, we’re all better off.” The manager retorted, and Minho saw red. His hands reached for and grabbed the managers collar bones, and he would have done worse if it wasn’t for the other boys grabbing him and pulling him away. 

“Hyung, it’s not worth it, it’s not. Focus on finding y/n now, and we can deal with him later.” Changbin said to Minho, as Felix nodded, holding onto Minho’s other arm.

Minho took a couple deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Han wandered over and hugged him, to which he immediately hugged the quokka back. This helped him calm down, and he whispered a thanks to the three boys.

During this, Hyunjin and the two youngest were frantically trying to contact y/n, to no avail. They could see that their messages were being delivered, but she wasn’t answering, which worried them further. Their anxiety over their soulmate’s whereabouts was rising, and fast. This contributed to y/n’s anxiety that she was already experiencing, unbeknownst to any of them. 

“Hyungs, we can’t get a hold of her.” Jeongin said, voice cracking at the end as he was on the verge of tears.

Chan immediately moved to hug Jeongin, pulling the younger man into a tight hug, and a hug that quickly became a group hug. All of them needed comfort, before they set out to find their soulmate. 

They all continued to text or call their missing soulmate, growing increasingly worried when none of it was answered. Chan told the boys to get out of their outfits and change into their street clothes, they were going searching for her. She hopefully hadn’t gone far, not in an unknown city. While the boys did that, Chan called their main manager, telling him that they were cutting the photoshoot short, the company be damned, since it was the other manager’s fault that their soulmate was missing. After hanging up, he quickly changed back to, getting rid of any makeup as well. They quickly left the studio, apologizing for leaving early to the photographer who just waved them on. No one in that studio held any grudges after what they heard, soulmates were precious and to push away another person’s soulmate was looked down upon.

Once they left the building, they split up into two groups, maknaes and hyungs, and spread out to try and cover as much ground as possible. They were unable to find her, she didn’t seem to be anywhere near where they were. This frustrated the boys even further, since they weren’t sure where she could have walked to, with no money and only her phone on her.

That was until Changbin got a text from his friend Wooyoung, after about an hour of the boys looking for her. It was about his soulmate, and why she wasn’t with them. He was confused about how Woo knew that they were looking for her. Had their appearances made it to social media? He didn’t know how else his friend would know what they were doing.

‘How do you know that?’ Changbin texted him back.

‘Because she’s here with the entirety of Ateez. And Yunho and Mingi found her on the streets of Seoul by herself, and had to help her out of some sort of panic attack or something.’ His friend replied.  

“Fuck. Where are you? We’ve been trying to reach her, but she hasn’t answered.’ He frantically messaged his friend, to which Wooyoung sent the address of the cafe.

Chan’s eyes were drawn to Changbin, who suddenly was attached to his phone. 

“She’s with Wooyoung and Ateez!” He shouted out, shocking the three others with him.

“What? How did she get to be with them?” Chan asked, worried but relieved she had found their friends.

“I’m not sure, but I have their location so let’s go!!” He yelled, running in the direction of the cafe, since Wooyoung had brought him and Yeonjun there before.

Since the cafe was the direction the younger boys went in, they met up with them on the way. They all ran to the cafe, breathing hard as they arrived at the front door. Pushing the door open, the staff member immediately knew why they were here and directed them to the back room, where they pushed the door open, seeing Ateez, and then their soulmate, who looked so small.

“Sunshine!” “Jagiya!” Felix and Han cried out, pushing past the others in order to reach her. She was still in shock as they pulled her out of the chair, boxing her in between them in a tight hug that pushed the air out of her lungs.

It was just a wave of apologies falling from their mouths, and it was too fast for y/n to even catch a word that came out of their mouths. The two sunshine twins had tears coming out of their eyes, and eventually devolved into crying. 

“Why are you two crying? Please don’t cry.” She said, tears in her eyes at seeing the two of them so upset.

“They’re crying because you left, and we couldn’t find you. We were so worried and scared that something happened to you.” Chan cut in, coming up to her and gathering the three of them in his arms. “We were scared that we had lost you forever, baby.” He whispered, fear clearly heard in his voice.

He, as were the others, were scared that she’d disappear the moment they let her out of their sight. He couldn’t take it if they had to find her again, he’d break down. She reached out, running her hands through his hair, as she did the same with Felix and then Han, switching between the three of them. 

“I’m sorry, I never meant to frighten you all. I just felt so out of place and unwanted there. I couldn’t go back there.” She confessed, evading their eyes. She didn’t want to burden them further than she already had.

“We’re never letting you out of our sight ever again. You understand that?” Minho walked closer, scolding her but you could hear it was only out of concern for her. She nodded, looking over at him. At her nod, he hummed happily, before turning to Ateez.

“Thank you for finding and taking care of our soulmate.” He said, bowing low in thanks.

The group of boys start waving off his bow, stating that they’re happy they were able to find y/n and keep her safe. The girl in question blushed at the conversation, hearing everything. She enjoyed the hugs from the boys, but also she needed to breathe. 

“Boys, not that I don’t love hugs, but I also need to breathe please and thank you.” She told them, and they very quickly pulled away, allowing her to take a deep breath.

“We’re sorry!” The three chorused, their faces displaying how apologetic they were.

“It’s okay, I just like breathing, and I’m pretty sure you like me breathing as well.” She stated, giggling a bit.

“Well, we’ve gotten what we came here for, so we’ll stop bothering you now.” Minho took charge, grabbing a hold of y/n’s hand. 

He started dragging the younger girl out of the room, as she hurriedly said goodbye to the men she had met. Chan shook his head at Minho’s actions, gathering up the rest of his soulmates/children and pushing them out the door, saying goodbye to Ateez. Minho was already outside, and on the phone, calling their vans to come pick them up and bring them home. He still held onto y/n with the hand that didn’t hold his phone. He hung up just as the rest of them walked outside. 

“They’ll be here soon. 10 minutes.” He quickly said.

Ten minutes passed quickly, to the relief of everyone. Lino dragged Han and y/n with him into the first of the two vans, Hyunjin quickly joined them as Chan rounded off that van. The remaining four boys hopped in the second van, and both vans drove off as soon as everyone was safely buckled in.

Minho still had yet to let go of y/n’s hand, and it didn't seem like he would. Y/n understood he needed the physical touch and wisely didn’t say anything about it, even if her hand was starting to get sweaty. She had caused them so much stress and so she’d do what she could to make up for it. Whereas the boys were worried about her, since they had no clue what exactly had been said to her by their manager, and they were afraid of exactly how mean the man had been, by the way he spoke of her to them.

The ride back was much longer than it was this morning, whether that was because of the distance or how y/n’s anxiety made time pass much slower, she wouldn’t know. It was at this point that holding hands with Minho was helping keep herself calm, and she was grateful for it. It was at this point that they arrived back at the dorms, and Minho waited for everyone else to leave the van, before ushering y/n out before he got out. 

Han came up to y/n’s side, as Minho occupied her other side. They both took her up to the maknae dorm once again, but quickly guided her right back into Lino’s room, ignoring the others entirely. Chan followed them, stopping the door from being closed, reminiscent of the previous night. 

“We need to talk with y/n before you two decide to hog her. We have to have a talk about what happened today, and how we’re going to proceed going forward.” He scolded the two, before moving to grab y/n from the two of them and leading her back out to the living room, sitting beside her on the couch. The other two walked back out, sulking that they were denied time with their soulmate.

“Now that we’re all here, we need to talk about today.” Chan started, before turning to look at y/n. “What did the manager say to you? Please tell us, we need to know.” He softly asked her.

“He told me that all I would be is a distraction, and that it was my fault that they had to cancel and reschedule your schedules yesterday. And that there was no proof that I was your last soulmate, that I was here just for your money and fame. That it was best for me to go far away and disappear from your lives.” She recounted, voice growing quieter as she continued on.

Each of the boys felt their hearts drop into their stomachs as each word came out of her mouth. They couldn’t believe their own staff would say something so hurtful to their soulmate. Ji-hyuk had never been particularly nice to them, but he had never been so awful, and a few of the older members wondered why the sudden change of attitude, and one knew exactly why. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that, he and the other boys needed to comfort their girl.

Changbin comes to kneel right in front of her, looking up at her. His voice never wavers as he talks, telling her, “Every word that came out of his mouth was and is a lie. We want you here, you’re never a distraction for us. You are our soulmate, we all know this, and we know you’re here for us, not fame or money. We need you with us, please never leave us.” He pleaded with her at the end, looking sad at the thought that she might leave them and him.

Whoever wasn’t on the couch joined Changbin on the floor in front of her, looking up at her, silently begging her just as Binnie verbally did.

“Binnie is right. Every word that Ji-hyuk said to you, was in no way true. He’s just playing the part of staff and it wasn’t right for him to say any of that to you, nor was any of it true. His words do no in any way represent our thoughts. We want and need you here with us, as our soulmate and as our missing piece.” Chan told her gently but firmly, rubbing her back as he did so.

“Okay. You promise?” She said, the need for reassurance could be plainly heard in her voice. 

“We promise.” All of them said simultaneously.

This was the start of making her feel at home and secure in her place with them, but by no means did her insecurities about it vanish. Those would take longer to disappear, but she felt that the boys would help her resolve those insecurities. This felt like an environment where she’d be able to tackle her worries and anxieties safely, where she’d be supported no matter what.

“Are we okay now?” She asked.

“We’ve always been okay. But if this happens again, which hopefully it won’t, please don’t hesitate to call out to us or find one of us instead of running away, please?” Chan said to her, reassuring her that everything was okay.

“Okay, thank you.” She replied.

Minho decided that this was now the time to steal her away, standing up from the floor, and picking her up bridal style. 

She shouted, not expecting him to do so, “Lee Minho! What are you doing?” 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, worried he might drop her. Instead, he walked back to his bedroom, calling out for Han, and the little quokka followed behind Minho and her. Once in his room with the door shut, she was deposited on his bed as Han and he searched for clothes for the three of them to wear. The muffled shouts and complaints of the others could be heard through the walls, yet neither boy paid any attention to them, diligently continuing on their search for clothing. Eventually, an outfit made up of a mixture of Han’s and Lino’s clothing was found, because yes Hannie keeps some clothes in Lino’s closet. It was laid out for her, while the other two changed, their backs turned to her to give her some privacy. She quickly changed and then looked away as the boys changed into comfier outfits. 

The two men joined her on the bed, sandwiching her in between them. The three relaxed on the bed, the two pulling out their phones and scrolling on their social media of choice, while y/n pulled out her phone to see if there had been any updates on her favorite fanfics. She was happy to find that there had been multiple updates across several of her favorite ones, and so she lost herself into those fics. Eventually the two boys noticed how quiet she was, and looked over to see her immersed in her phone, and they looked up at each other and smiled, their plan to make her relax had worked.

After a couple hours of scrolling on their phones, they looked up to see that it had gotten late, and that y/n had fallen asleep at some point during all of this. Her head was resting on Han’s shoulder, and her phone had fallen onto her chest. Minho carefully picked it up, and quietly moved to plug it in for her, since she wouldn’t be using it now. His movement prompted her to move, and to the boys’ relief, she didn’t wake up, instead snuggling closer to Han, who looked very smug as he watched Lino’s expression change to that of slight jealousy. 

Lino knew that they needed food, and so, trying not to wake her up, got out of bed and left the room, headed towards the kitchen. There he found Changbin and Seungmin already prepping food. 

“You’ve finally emerged from your lair, have you hyung?” Seungmin teased, for which he got a hit on his arm from said hyung.

“What are we making?” He asked them.

“Ramyeon, because none of us have any energy to make anything else.” Changbin replied.

Minho quickly joined in, helping make food for all nine of them, and making some side dishes as well. They quickly laid it out on the table, however Minho didn’t join them, taking food back for Han and hopefully y/n if she would wake up. 

While Minho was gone, Han had tried to wake y/n, but she was sleeping deeply. When Minho returned with food, and seeing the quokka’s predicament, he fed the younger man the ramyeon, before eating his own. He hadn’t brought any for y/n seeing as he didn’t know if she’d like it, and whether she’d be awake. 

A while after the two had finished their food, and she still hadn’t awoken, both of them decided it was time to call it a night, they had recording sessions in the morning for their upcoming comeback. Minho helped Han get himself and y/n under the covers, before stripping himself of his top and slipping in bed himself. Han turned to face Minho and their smaller soulmate, and the exhaustion from the day quickly took over. The younger man’s eyes quickly slipped closed, a sleepy, “Goodnight jagi” falling from his lips as he fell into sleep. Minho waited until he was sure his soulmate was asleep, before closing his eyes and drifting into sleep himself.

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Taglist: @queen-thiccness @k-k-kn1v3s @ihrtlix @calisnewworld @lailac13

[a-casual-kpopfan]

Special - Wonyoung/Minju

Written: My Ghost Writer Partner. Possible Trigger Warning: Cheating, gaslighting.

What are you doing here?

With just a quick glance, you can recognize a handful of people in this party venue. How could you not, when they are all extremely popular fashion models, kpop idols, and CEOs in their own right?

You don’t belong here.

You feel uncomfortable wearing this suit that would cost you an arm and a leg. You feel weird sipping on this wine that you see everyone drink so nonchalantly. You feel out of place even existing in the same atmosphere as them. It’s not your usual outfit, your usual vibe, your usual hang out place.

You are not special.

You are normal, just like a grain of sand among the millions of grains on the beach, that’s you. You are no one, you are nobody, you are nothing. Nothing at all.

And yet here you still stand, with people occasionally giving you a side eye glance that makes your skin shudder.

Why?

Because of her.

Jang Wonyoung.

Idol, model, fashion icon, variety queen. The center of attention of the entertainment industry as the new ‘role model’. She’s perfect in everything. Her looks? Flawless, her pair of slender, long legs is the focal point of people’s attention whenever she appears. Her personality? As gentle as a lamb, she wouldn’t hurt anyone, and would feel extremely guilty for accidentally doing so.

That’s why you’re so in love with her.

She is literally a goddess reincarnated. Though you’re a bit sadden that you haven’t seen her since you two arrived at the party. She was whisked away by her group of friends, and you’ve been left alone, standing at this corner for 2 hours now.

Then again, you can’t really blame her. Her schedule has been very tight, to the point that the both of you can barely see each other. What kind of boyfriend are you if you can let your girlfriend have fun with her friends once in a while?

While you are mulling over your thoughts, you fail to notice a certain someone standing next to you, her eyes staring over your thinking face as she waits patiently for you to snap out of your thinking.

Luckily for her, it doesn’t take you long to recognize her present, as you turn your head to her.

“Hey Minmin.” You smile softly at your friend.

“Didn’t expect to see you here, oppa.” Kim Minju, another friend of yours, flashes her gummy smile at you. “Yeah, well, Wonyoung insisted that I come, so here I am.” You shrug your shoulders, unaware that Minju’s smile falters a bit at the mention of your girlfriend.

“Then where is she? Why are you standing here alone?” Looking around, Wonyoung is still nowhere to be seen.

“I have no idea. Last I saw, she was pulled away by her friends.” Minju pouts “What friends? Eunbi unnie and the others have not seen her tonight as well.”

“You do know that she has other friends besides you guys, right?” You can’t help but chuckle as you pat Minju on her head, a habit that you have ever since your days as an I*ZONE’s manager, trying to sooth her jealousy over Wonyoung having other friends besides them.

“Oops, my bad, old habits die hard.” You immediately retract your hand upon remembering that you are no longer her manager, as I*ZONE disbanded 2 years ago, and you don’t want to have any misunderstandings between them, especially when you're with Wonyoung.

“It’s ok oppa, I don’t really mind- Ah!” Minju seems to be enjoying your pat before her eyes dart to behind you and widens in surprise. In response, you turn around to see Wonyoung, standing behind both of you with her arms crossed.

“Minju unnie.” She gives a small smile and a nod to Minju, completely ignoring you in the process, not even giving you a glance. Your joyous mood upon seeing Wonyoung seem to be dispelled almost instantly at that, you are knowing that you did something to upset her again.

“Wonyoung, oppa’s been waiting you this whole time, where have you been?” Minju seems unsatisfied with Wonyoung’s action. “He knows that I was with my friends.” She flashes her iconic smile at him, making his heart flutter, blinding him from other details that have caught Minju’s eyes.

Wonyoung’s hair is slightly disheveled, with a few strands sticking to her forehead due to the sweat that looks like it was hastily wiped off. Her dress has a few barely noticeable crinkles and creases at certain… Parts.

It doesn’t take a genius to roughly guess what she’s been up to. Minju can’t help but glance at you, being starstruck and smitten beyond relief for Wonyoung. Unfortunately, or is it fortunately?

You don’t notice all of that. You don’t notice anything weird about Wonyoung. Your Wonyoung can do no wrong, she is perfect, she is an angel, no, a goddess reincarnated. And you are nothing without her.

“I know Wonnie, I’m fine, you don’t have to worry about me.” You smile softly, relishing in the attention that Wonyoung has graced you once again, and you would do anything, anything, to not her on her bad side again.

“I know oppa.” She leans into you on her tip toe, giving you a peck on the cheek, which seems to melt you down even more. Though to Minju, you look like a dog wagging its tail upon getting a treat from its owner. Minju curses herself for seeing you like that, but she can’t help it.

“Come on unnie, I haven’t met the others for a while now.” Wonyoung then turns to Minju, grabbing her hand and pulls her away to meet ex-I*ZONE members, despite her ignoring them for a good half of the night. Minju still can’t help but look back at you, who’s waving at the both of you with a smiling face, seemingly content with just seeing Wonyoung.

Her heart pains at the sight of you, standing there alone and with no one to talk to. But what could she do? She lost her chance a long time ago.

-----

Things went back to normal after the party.

Though, a part of you is relieved that you don’t have to attend another party with a bunch of ridiculously rich people, you are still saddened by the fact that everything turning back to normal means that you don’t get to meet Wonyoung as frequently.

Moving in with her shortly after Izone’s disbandment, you quickly found out that she’s going to re-debut with a new group, IVE.

Though you wanted to join her as a manager, with you having experience in managing I*ZONE back then. That was how you got to know her after all. Although, she still refused the notion, hoping that you would stay at home and keep ‘your home’ warm and clean for her.

It didn’t take Wonyoung much to persuade you, and while you were a bit saddened at the fact that you must leave your career behind, being a ‘house husband’ for the love of your life didn’t sound like a bad deal at all. After all, you’re head over heels for her.

And so, you basically became a stay at home ‘husband’ for Wonyoung, doing chores, cooking, cleaning, anything you can do inside the house, you will do it.

Everything for your dear Wonyoung.

Though, you realized that living with her isn’t always sunshine and rainbow. Due to how famous she was already, and the nature of the re-debut, she starts to become even more busy, with her sometimes coming home late, after you’ve fallen asleep, or even not coming home at all.

But you don’t mind. Your manager’s experience has already told you that being busy with little to no time to rest is a staple when it comes to the idol life. That is why you resolve to do more for Wonyoung. She was the first one ever to show him kindness, to accept him for the worthless being that he is. After all, your parents wouldn’t have left you if you weren’t so worthless.

However, Wonyoung still accepted you. Without her, you are worthless and insignificant, so you resolve to do everything right for Wonyoung. So, what if you can’t see her on a regular basis? She is doing everything for you, so you must repay her kindness.

The sound of the door opening interrupts your inner thought, glancing at the clock shows that it’s just past 8 PM, no one should be home besides you right now. Unless….

With your hope at an all-time high, you spring to the front door, only to be met with Wonyoung staring back at you, mid motion of taking of her shoes.

“Wonnie!” you exclaim, standing frozen in the corridor.

“You sound surprised, oppa.” She chuckles at your freeze-frame, finishes taking off her shoes.

“Didn’t you say that you’re working overtime today?” You snap out of your freeze-frame, and quickly approach to help take her jacket and bag off.

“I wanted to surprise you.~” She says teasingly, pecking your cheek, causing a huge blush to form on your face.

Wonyoung can’t help but giggle at your blushing face. “Aigo oppa, you’re so cute~” while poking your cheek.

“A-anyways, are you hungry? I can whip up something for you.” Putting down her stuff, you head over to the kitchen, before being stopped by her arms around your waist. “Can I eat you instead? ~” Her sultry tone catches you by surprise, and before you know it, she pulls you into your shared bedroom, and it doesn’t take long for moans and groans to fill the entire apartment.

A few hours later….

Both of you are lying exhausted on the bed, a mess of sweats and other fluids mingled with each other’s, as you lie on top her, your face buried between her bosoms, and her gently playing and making a mess out of your hair, like your hair isn’t already a mess with how intense their activities was just now.

“Oppa…” “Hmm?”

“You’re mine, right?” You look up at her with a confused expression. “Of course, why are you asking that?”

Wonyoung’s eyes flutter before casting downwards in a sadden expression. “You patted Minju’s head at the party….” Before her eyes gaze up at him, her big doe eyes staring at him pitifully. “I thought you only do it to me…”

“It’s not what you think Wonnie-ah!” You frantically sit up. “It was just a habit back in my manager days, I swear I didn’t mean anything else.” Your face gently cups her cheek. “I only have you.”

She leans into your palm, keeping eye contact with you. “Really?”

“Yes.” You nod instantly. “I am nothing without you, Wonnie.”

A smile finally blossoms on her face as she seems satisfied with your answer. “That’s right oppa.” She pulls you into a hug, letting your face rest on her bosoms yet again, her gentle smile turns into a mischievous smirk as she hums into your ears. “You only need me, oppa. You’re nothing without me, so stay with me forever, ok? ~”

 -----

After sharing a passionate night with Wonyoung, she is gone again the next day.

Of course, you don’t mind, not a single bit. You’re very understanding about her career, after all. So, you continue with your day by cleaning the apartment while blasting music out of a speaker. Nothing beats some music to accompany you while you’re working, or in this case, doing chores.

You’re halfway done with your chores when your music is replaced by a ringtone, interrupting the climax of the song you’re jamming to. With a groan, you walk back to where you placed your phone to check who’s calling you.

The screen on your phone says “Minmin”, and all the annoyance you have immediately disappears as you disconnect your phone from the speaker to receive the call.

“Minmin?”

“Hi oppa, I hope I’m not intruding on your work?”

You look around the mostly cleaned apartment.

“No, not really, I’m almost done anyways. What’s up?”

“Oh, uh, do you perhaps... Want hang out today? I have today’s off.”

“Wouldn’t you rather to get some sleep than to hang out with little old me?” You tease.

“You’re not that old oppa, besides, I haven’t met you in a while.”

“We did meet at the recent party though-”

“Are you coming or not?”

“I was just kidding, Minmin.” You let out a snicker. “Same place?”

“Mhmm! See you there oppa!”

With the call disconnected, you take a quick look around the apartment again before deciding that whatever left that you need to do can be done after you meet up Minju. At most they would hang out for an hour or two as she rants about many things in her life.

After a quick change of clothes, you’re now ready to head out. You’re dressed somewhat casually in jeans, a T-shirt and a jacket, but hey, you’re just leaving for a bit, you don’t need fancy clothes.

The ride from your place to the meet up is quite long, since you moved in to Wonyoung’s place, you basically sacrificed all the conveniences your old apartment offers in favor of staying with Wonyoung. But it’s ok, you love her after all.

The first thing that hits you when you enter the café is the familiar scent of coffee and pastry that fills the air of the café.

“Long time no sees.” The barista/owner greets you warmly. “Yeah, sorry I haven’t been here for a while.” You chuckle embarrassedly.

“It’s ok, life goes on, it couldn’t be helped.” The middle age barista laughs. “But I would appreciate it if you visited once in a while, I still consider you as my regular, you know.” “I’ll keep it in mind.” You answer, taking a seat at the stool next to the counter.

“The usual?” “Yes please.”

The place falls into comfortable silence as you watch the barista go about his work. Watching him single handedly handle both the café, and pastries bring back memories for you.

This used to be your usual hangout place. It is a small, yet cozy place that not many people know of. You’ve known the place ever since you moved here. It was a coincidence that you stumbled into this place, but you’ve never regretted it. The pastries are well baked, and the coffee is to die for. You let out a sigh as you lean against the counter, with your arm supporting your chin.

You miss this place. You think to yourself. Why did you stop visiting here again? The answer comes to mind as quickly as the question. Wonyoung.

You know she doesn’t like small places like this. She likes all things fancy, luxurious, someplace where she can lavishly spend her money. That’s why you never showed her to this place, and to an extent, stopped visiting it as well.

While you’re deep in your thoughts, the entrance of the café opens, and you can already hear Minju’s voice before you can turn around to see her face. “Annyeong~”

“Hey Minju, you’re coming here quite regularly, huh.” The barista waves at her with a smile.

“Ahjussi!” She beams a smile at him. “The usual?” the owner asks her. “No, please prepare the one that I told you a while before.” You are somewhat confused with their exchange. “Got it, get yourself comfortable and I’ll bring you the order.”

“Oppa!” her attention is turned to you. “Have you been here long?” She sits down next to you at the counter. “I just got here myself, no worries.”

The two of you fall into idle chatter as you wait for your order. It didn’t hit you till now that it’s been a long time since you get to go out with your friends. Ever since moving in with Wonyoung, you’ve been swarmed with helping her work, and doing chores to the point that you’re disconnected from most, if not all your friends. Speaking with Minju like this, you can’t help but feel like you’ve missed on a lot of things in your life.

A part of your mind seems to be saying ‘What if I wasn’t with Wonyoung?’ You squash that thought as soon as it appears. You love her, and she loves you, and you would sacrifice everything for her. Because you would be worthless without her.

It doesn’t take long for the owner to bring out the order for you. The usual americano with a slice of tiramisu for you, a latte and… A slice of cheesecake for Minju?

“Not the usual order?” You raise your eyebrow. She shakes her head before pushing the cheesecake slice at you. “Have a taste, oppa.” You look at her confusedly, to which she continues to nudge the cheesecake closer to you.

Reluctantly, you use your fork to eat a corner of the slice. “How is it?” She asks, “It’s really good, as expected of the owner, not too sweet, but just the right amount.” She eagerly nods with him. “I know right? It’s to die for.”

Minju then takes a small jar of something that the owner prepared for her, and she pours it on top of the slice. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out she just poured syrup onto the slice.

“Minmin, what are you doing-” Taste it, oppa.” She looks at you with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “You just poured syrup on it; I’m not going to eat it. The syrup’s sweetness ruined the perfect balance of the cheesecake.” She, once again, nods at your word. “Exactly, oppa, something is just not meant to be together.” She then looks at you dead in the eye, full of seriousness. “Oppa, you’re not suited for Wonyoung.”

“Minju, even a joke has it limits.” Your voice turns stern as you feel anger boils over you. “I’m not joking oppa.” Even in your anger, you can’t help but soften slightly for her sadden face. “Haven’t you ever noticed how she’s usually never home?” You scoff “That’s normal, her career is taking off, of course she is too busy to come home.”

“Even if she doesn’t come home for an entire week, leaving you alone to miss her?” Her voice trembles as she grasps your hand. “S-she stays at the studio, of course.” You stutter. It’s not like you’ve never thought about it, you just don’t want to acknowledge it.

“Oppa, she dragged you to the party even while knowing you hated parties. You’ve never attended even one of them back when you were our manager….” You feel your temper going off. “I can indulge her all I want, she is my girlfriend, and I love her!” You stand up, glaring daggers into Minju.

You can see her quivering underneath your glare, yet she presses on. “Even when she left you alone at the party the entire time, pretending that you didn’t exist, showing you off like you’re just a trophy to her?”

“She has the right to do that!” You stand up from your seat, your hands ball up into fists in order to restrain yourself from doing anything you might regret. “I am worthless, and I am nothing without her, so she has just done what is best for me!” In your blinded rage, you utter out the thought that have been instilled to you, carved into your mind by Wonyoung, not even noticing the horrified look of the owner as he stares at you wide-eyed.

But what you do notice is the shattered expression on Minju’s face as she hears your words, with tears starting to stream down her face.

“No! no, no, no, no…” she mumbles, her hands reaching for your balled up fist. “Woojin-ah, you’re better than this” You freeze at the mention of your name. How long has it been since someone called him by his name? Ever since he quit his job and moved in with Wonyoung, all you have ever heard are different variations of her nicknames for him, ‘pet names’. Before long, you start to respond more to those ‘pet names’ instead. Like a real pet.

“Woojin-ah, you…you are not worthless.” Minju seems to almost be begging you. “It was you that helped raise us into what we are today.” She clutches her chest with her free hand. “If was with your help and advice that we managed to find new meanings in life after I*ZONE, whether that be continuing the idol life or retiring.” Sobbing seem to be mixed in with her voice.

“You’re our manager, our friend, our advisor, our brother, our friend.” She looks up at you with tearful eyes. “My friend, my childhood friend, my first and only crush.” That last part seems to shock you back into reality, as you find movement in your lips again.

“Minju…”

“I love you, Woojin…” She chokes, trying to confess to you. “I’m sorry I was too coward to confess, and lost you to Wonyoung…”

Dazed, reeling, about to break, you feel the world spinning around you, you having to clutch the counter to steady yourself from the flood of information you just received. Looking at the shocked owner, and the teary-eyed Minju, your first thought is to run away.

And so you do just that, with surprising energy you sprint out of the café, back into your car and drive away to a secluded place, one you know that you won’t be bothered. And then tears start to fall out of your eyes as you begin to process all the information you just got. It doesn’t make sense to you that you cried. What it should have happen is that he would pity his friend, but he would feel nothing else because Wonyoung already has his heart.

If so, why is it that his heart feel like it’s broken into pieces? Why does it hurt so much? You don’t know that answer to that, but you still sobbed like a kid, all the pent-up frustration leaking out of you as you cry yourself to exhaustion, then ended up falling asleep in your car.

-----

Things have never been the same ever since that day.

Despite your best efforts, Minju’s voice and teary face linger in your mind days and nights, haunting you every waking moment, not even in your dreams are you safe from her words.

Minju has stirred up something in him. The logical side in him that he buried with the love he has for Wonyoung. The skeptical, analytic side that helped him in his career and steered the girls away from potential danger. The side that brings out the absolute worst in everything, that analyze every single detail.

You tried not to do it, you really did. But once the seed of doubt was planted, there was nothing stopping it from growing. So, you desperately try to find something, anything, no matter how small, to prove that Wonyoung is still yours and yours only.

But the more you look, the more you fall into despair.

You start to notice that she never allows you to touch the handbag containing the set of hygiene products that is usually reserved for using at her studio, although you have always been the one to arrange everything at home for her. It’s ok, you can ignore it, she may have her valuables in there.

You notice that when she comes home drunk, her clothes are no longer smooth and pretty like how she looks when she leaves. But instead, her clothes have creases in all the suspicious part, some got suspicious stains on it, not to mention some have torn apart slightly at a few places. Wonyoung doesn’t have the strength to do this, maybe someone else did?

And despite your best effort to ignore it, you always smell a faint distinct smell of cologne mixed with her own seats amidst the smell of alcohol on her, as well as a familiar, salty scent.

You dread your own imagination for think of that.

You try to turn your mind away from it, but the evidence is too obvious. It is too obvious. But you don’t want to believe it.

You love her with all your heart, you believe that what she’s doing is the best for you. She said herself that she wanted you to be with her. Hell, she was the one who confessed to you!

You’re on the verge of breaking at this point, just one more step, and you’re falling.

There’s still one last thing you need to confirm.

Sometimes, Wonyoung would come home after you’ve already asleep, and you would wake up with her snuggling in your arms.

This is the final chance to get the evidence you need that she loves you. With this, you can prove Minju wrong, and that Wonyoung really, truly loves you, and you’re just paranoid.

And so, you put your plan to motion.

On the night you know that she will come home very late due to hanging out with her friends, you stay awake, lying in your bed until you hear the bedroom room creak open, that’s when you close your eyes, faking to be in a slumber with your phone inside your pants’ pocket in record mode. You never know if you’re going to need evidence, better be safe than sorry.

You can hear small footstep getting closer, and closer, and closer, until you can feel a presence standing next to the bed on your side.

“Oppa? Are you awake?” You can hear Wonyoung’s soft voice, and you try your best to not spring up to give her a hug. She calls you one more time, and one more.

“That fucker is deep asleep, as always.” You hear a deep voice next to the bed as well. You almost yelp at the sudden voice but managed to keep your body still. That voice sounds familiar though.

“I told you baby. He sleeps like a log.” Wonyoung’s voice comes out. “Now, what did you say you want to do to me again?~” Her voice turns sultry, lustful, the same voice that she uses on him every time they make love with each other.

“I want to fuck you right next to him, to show who’s the superior male here~” You can hear the deeper voice’s reply, and you take all your energy to not spring up right then and there. Although you can feel the anger and sadness mixing in your body right now, you aren’t dumb enough to mess up your cover at the last second.

You feel an impact on the bed as Wonyoung and the other guy crash down onto her side of the bed, you can hear their sloppy kisses and him ripping her dress off. With the couple in such a proximity to him, he smells a whiff of the cologne, and finally recognize who is the other party. It is the idol guy that is almost always next to her during events. Before you can even feel the anger, your heart drop to despair as you hear them making out and having sex right next to you, their action shaking the bed violently, with moans and shouts coming from them.

You slowly readjust your position so that your face is turned out of their vision, as tears start to flow out of your eyes. This is irrefutable evidence. Minju was right.

Their activities continue long into the night, with you becoming numb to it all, tuning out every word and every shake the bed has.

Not all the words though.

“Why do you keep this guy around though? When you have me?”

“Why not? He’s like a toy, playing with him is very fun~”

That is the final nail in the coffin.

You want to do something, sit up, shout, and scream at them, maybe punch the guy to half death or something. But you’re too drained emotionally to even do anything. So, you just lay there, pretending to be asleep, hoping to actually get some rest and finally get this godforsaken night to be over.

Somehow you finally found enough peace to fall into a short sleep. But as you do, you feel a pair of arms wrapping around your torso, as Wonyoung snuggles closer to you, like how she always does in a night like this. And you would wake up happy to see her snuggle with you. How foolish.

-----

It’s been a few days ever since their argument.

And Minju isn’t faring any better than you do.

Her mind keeps repeating the words that you said on that day, and by piecing together Wonyoung’s action to you, it’s quite easy to find out what she’s been doing to you.

And it breaks her heart into million pieces, knowing it was because of her cowardice, her inability to confess to you, and gave Wonyoung the opening she needed to sink her claws into you.

She hasn’t been able to work properly since then, asking for a leave from the company, only leaving a message to calm down her fans, before she proceeds to shut herself in her apartment, or should she say, your old apartment?

You’ve been gracious enough to give her ownership of the apartment the moment you hear she had nowhere to go, and she’s been staying there ever since. Not because she doesn’t have money to move out, but because this place was your apartment, and she wants something related to you, to sooth her aching heart.

It’s quite late into the night when she hears a knock on the front door.

She hasn’t been sleeping well these days, which is why she’s still awake to hear the knock. Even a depressed, broken state, Minju still grabs something for self-defense, like how you taught her to. Though it’s proven useless the moment Minju peeks the peephole and is met with your disheveled appearance.

“Oppa?!” She exclaims, opening the door fully. She winces at his ragged appearance, with only hoodie and sweatpants. His hair messy and unkempt, his posture low and defeated. His eyes…oh god, his eyes, bloodshot, fill to the brim with tears, sullen, puffy, dead. If Minju thinks of herself as a mess, then the current you in front of her is a garbage dump.

“Can I come in?” Your voice raspy and hoarse, clear evidence of you crying for a long time. Minju quickly ushers you in before closing and locking the door. “W-what happened oppa?” She gently pushes you down at the couch. You say nothing, your eyes’ staring at the coffee table for a long period of time.

“Woojin oppa?” Minju gently touches your shoulder, feeling your body shiver at her touch.

“You…you were right, Minju-ah.”

That is all it takes for Minju to understand what happened to you.

You turn to her, your eyes teary with streams of tears staining your cheek, you try to smile at her, but your lips can’t even curl up with you wanting to just… Give up. “You were right about her. I…I was nothing to her, just, a toy.”

“Oppa…” Minju slowly, gently leans in to wrap her arms around you, enveloping into her hug, despite you being too big for her small frame. “It’s ok oppa, I’m here for you. You don’t have to be tough anymore.”

She can feel your body start to relax against hers as your face is buried into her shoulder, your arms wrapping loosely around her waist.

Soon enough, she feels her shoulder wet with his tears, his body trembling all over as he silently weeps and sob in her embrace, with her gently soothing him, her tears already flowing out of her at the sight of her broken friend.

After what seems like forever, you finally stop crying, now just be wrapped in the embrace of your friend. “Minju…” you start to sit up straight again, your hands wiping away the remaining tears. “I’m sorry for last time, I didn’t mean to shout at you.”

Shaking her head, she reasons with you. “It wasn’t your fault oppa, it was kind of rude for me to say those things to you.” “But it was necessary.” You hold her shoulder firmly, your lips finally curving up into a small smile for your dear friend. “Thank you, for snapping me out of it.”

In a way, Minju’s goal is completed, you are now snapped out of Wonyoung’s manipulation, so she should be happy. But seeing the haggard appearance of you in front of her right now, she wondered if it was the right thing to do. She doesn’t want to bring you any harm or pain, and it pains her even more to see you broken like this.

“What are you going to do now?” Minju tentatively asks “I honestly don’t know, Minju.” You let out a sigh. “Be my manager.” Minju grabs the chance instantly. “H-huh?”

“My company is still looking for a manager for me, and you would be the perfect candidate for the position.” Her gaze is fiercely locking onto you.

“I don’t know, Minju” you can’t bear the heat of her eyes, causing you to look downwards. “Who would want to hire a worthless, useless piece of shit like me-” Minju isn’t having any of this bullshit, so she stops you midway, tackling you onto the couch and mounting you.

“Whatever Wonyoung say to you, it isn’t true.” She affirms “You are not worthless, Woojin-ah.”

In order to avoid her piercing gaze, your eyes dart at anything that you can lay your eyes on. “If I’m not, why did Wonyoung abandon me?” You ask in a broken voice.

Minju chokes at the situation, not because she doesn’t know how to answer, but because the sound of your broken, defeated voice seem to kill her on the inside.

“Woojin-ah.” Minju’s voice turns soft. You’re still refusing to meet her eyes. “Look at me, please.” She cups your cheek, forcing you to face her, eventually, you have no choice but to gaze upon her.

“You’re not worthless.” She says softly. “It was you that tamed the chaos that was I*ZONE that no one else wanted to do.”

“It was you that helped us bond together and work towards our goals.”

“You, who listened to all of our whims like an older brother, yet still know when to draw the line and help stop us.”

“You, who listened to all of our deepest wishes, and chose not to reveal it, but to help each of us with our own wishes.”

“You, the one who beat up a guy just because he was disrespecting us.” Both you and Minju chuckles slightly at that one.

“It was because of you, that our memory as I*ZONE was so valuable.” She pauses for a bit. “I love you, Woojin.” Your eyes slightly widen at the second confession.

“I don’t know when it happened, but along the lines of childhood friends, to best friends, to brother figures and managers, I stopped viewing you as just a friend.” You can feel her hands trembling. “I’m sorry for not confessing to you back then. I’m sorry for letting everything gone out of hand. I’m sorry-”

Now it’s your turn to stop her in her words, but with a finger on her lips instead.

“It’s not just your fault, Minju.” You lower your voice. “It was also partly my fault, that I was ignorant of my best friend’s feelings, and only paid attention elsewhere. I’m so, so sorry for it.”

Minju is just lying there, staring at you for a long while, before she leans down for your lips, only to be stopped by you.

“I’m sorry Minju. But my heart, it isn’t ready for another relationship yet.” You look at her sadly, as you can see her feelings wavered in her eyes. “Can you wait for me?” You add to her surprise. “Can you wait until I’m ready for another relationship?”

Instead of leaning down for a kiss, she now digs her face into the crook of your neck, her arms wrapping around you tightly. “I’ll wait.” You can hear her muffled voice. “As long as it takes.” She snuggles herself deeper into you.

For the first time in these past few days, you feel relief, like a burden has been lifted off your shoulder, and that you are free, finally.

“Thank you, Minmin.” You mutter, just enough for her to hear, before you pass out for the night due to exhaustion. “No, thank you, oppa.” You don’t hear Minju’s response, but a faint smile appears on your sleeping face.

-----

“I can’t reach him.” Wonyoung says frustratedly, walking in circles in her studio. “He’s never been this unreachable before.”

It’s been almost a month ever since that night. After her heated bout of sex with her ‘friend’ right next to your sleeping body, she woke up the next day to found you already disappeared from the apartment. Though none of your items were taken away, you seem to disappear off the grid.

She tried to find you through your friends, but none of them even had a clue as to where you might be. At the first place, you don’t really have many friend (that she knows of), and ever since you moved in with her, you met them even less. A gnawing fear at the back of her mind informs her of her greatest fear, but she drives it away.

“Oh, come on, didn’t you say he’s just your toy? Why are you so worried about him?” Her ‘friend’ scoffs. “Are you saying that you want to do the chores?” She eyes him, causing him to shut up instantly.

You are disappearing don’t really affect Wonyoung much, besides the fact that her apartment is slowly becoming a mess because you aren’t there to clean it up. She might not care about you, but she acknowledges that you are useful to her, that’s why she kept you around for so long.

“Loosen up baby~” her ‘friend’ comes up to behind her. “Instead of worrying about him, why not have some fun with me instead?” He kisses her neck roughly, leaving quite a visible mark on it. You would have never been this rough to her- Wait, why is she thinking of you right now?

Soon enough, she is enticed by the guy’s action as they are wrapped in each other’s embrace, kissing and their tongue engaged in a battle for supremacy, entirely unaware that you, the person that she’s been looking for, is leaning against the studio’s door with a blank face.

“Ahem.” Now they see you, and she quickly pushes the other guy away from her, annoying him, you don’t really care though.

“Oppa!” She beams with a smile. “Where have you been?”

“I had urgent stuffs to take care, so I couldn’t inform you in time.” Instead of your usual obedient attitude, your tone sounds monotonous, bored, even somewhat chilly.

“Hey! What’s with the attitude!” Her ‘friend’ growls at you, to which you promptly ignore. No need to pay attention to a dog in heat.

“I got something for you.” You take out a bouquet of flowers and a small box, moving towards the nearby table and place them on it. “For our anniversary.”

It dawns on Wonyoung now that today’s their anniversary, and you must have come back because you’re still in love with her.

She walks up to check out the present: a necklace with her initials on it ‘J.W.’

“You like it?” You give her a smile that don’t quite reach your eyes.

“I love it, thank you oppa~” She beams at you again with the goddamn smile that still somewhat tug at your heartstring. But no, enough is enough. You refuse to be played again.

“Good, because that is the last present from me to you.” You say with a smile, yet all Wonyoung can feel is chills down her spine. “W-what do you mean oppa?” She stutters.

“We’re done. We’re through, I’m breaking up with you.”  You look unamused. “How many times do I need to say it?”

“B-but why?! We are good with each other! I love you!” You roll your eyes at her response, before taking out your phone and tapping on it. Soon enough, sounds of sex fills the room, the perpetrators of such an act are standing in the room with you. “Any question?”

“It-it was a mistake oppa! I was drunk!” Wonyoung tries to plead for herself. But her ‘friend’ has other ideas. “Yeah, I fucked her, so what?” He looks at you smugly. “You’re just a worthless being, how can you be a match to my flawless Wonyoung.” He tries to trigger you, but to his surprise, you remain surprisingly calm. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, enough of that bullshit.” You yawn.

“I’m only here to inform you of it. If you have any other ideas for me, I will release this audio online.”

“You fucker! Don’t you dare!” her ‘friend’ immediately rushes up to you in a fit of rage. “No wait! He knows martial arts-” Wonyoung’s warning comes too late, as you’ve gotten into stance beforehand, your body rotate quickly to your right, your left leg acting as the supporting leg for your body as your right leg chamber, then release quickly in a smooth motion, shooting straight in front of you, a beautiful spinning back kick, with your feet finding purchase right on the guy’s solar plexus, knocking him out instantly from the pain, with the momentum sending him flying backwards.

“Baby!” she yells, rushing towards the guy. You feel your heart broken at the sight of her caring for him, but then again, he is broken by her, what’s left to break?

“Can’t even withstand a kick.” You let out a sigh. “Let this be our last meeting, Wonyoung-ah.” You look at her. “I won’t ever see you again, so you won’t ever have to see me again, we are strangers from now on.”

With that said, you turn around to leave, only to be stopped by her shout. “You’re nothing without me!” You’re somewhat surprised by her outburst but regain your composure soon enough. Looking back at her, you let out a small smile. “I may be worthless in your eyes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do anything.”

“I gave you everything you wanted!” She still doesn’t know how to give up.

“You were the only thing I wanted.” You reply in a somber voice. “I don’t care if we were rich or poor. I would have been happy with you, even if we run a laundromat and do taxes.” You chuckle. “I truly, genuinely, did love you, Wonyoung.” You look at her one final time, to see tears streaming down her eyes. “Let us never see each other again.” You then exit the room, leaving behind a tearful Wonyoung hugging her fainted ‘friend’, or is it boyfriend now? “Oppa…” is the only thing that she mutters in the empty room.

Walking out of the studio, you feel refreshed, reborn once again. No longer are you the ‘oppa’ that was enslaved and blinded by love. You are now Yun Woojin, free to do whatever you please.

Though this relationship has left a scar in your heart, it’s nothing that you can’t overcome.

“Woojin oppa!” A sweet, familiar voice comes up from behind you, her arms giving you a squeeze from behind, before she takes your hand in hers seamlessly.

“Minju-” “I know I know, you’re not ready yet, but it’s quite chilly today, and I forgot the bring the packets, can I hold your hand? Please~” Her large, beady eyes look at you like a puppy.

“Fine.” “Yay!”

With your best friend by your side, you know you can overcome it. After all, she was the one who snapped you out of it. Or should you say, your girlfriend?

You glance at Minju, happily humming while walking hand in hand with you.

Hmmm… You know the effect she can have on you, similarly to Wonyoung, but she treats you as an equal, and is always willing to do anything for you.

One day, you think to yourself.

One day.

~~~~~

Ghost: How to attempt to trigger an audience without saying you are trying to attempt to trigger your audience. Lol

[bbrissonn]

𝐁𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 - 𝐏𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐨 𝐆𝐚𝐯𝐢

summary: being forced to do a photoshoot with gavi, something unexpected happens during it, leading to you confronting him about it afterwards. only for the something even more unexpected to be said by the boy.

warnings: not proofread, slight swearing

wc: 1.9k

pairing: pablo gavi x footballer!reader

a/n: a good old fashion ‘enemies’ to lovers trope :))

“Ugh, not you again.” Were the first words that fell from Gavi’s mouth once he walked into the room, making you roll your eyes. The two of had been scheduled to do a small shoot for the new jersey your club would be wearing this season, only you and the ‘golden boy’ didn’t get along. At all. Despite being the two youngest of the club, the boy only being a couple of months older than you, your connection was slime to none. 

You never really understood why things were they were between the two of you, when the two of you met, you had been nothing but respectful to him, congratulating him on their win and his goal, and he just walked past you like you weren’t even there. And that was where your dislike for the boy began, and it had been this way for almost a year now. 

“Trust me, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t be here.” You said to him harshly, making him glare at you before going over to the small little area they had turned into dressing rooms. Pablo came back a couple of minutes later, all dressed in the newest kit. 

As much as you hated to admit it, Pablo was one of, if not, the best looking guy you had seen of your life. There was just something about him that made you attracted to him, but then as soon as he opened that big mouth of his, you were quickly reminded about your dislike for him. Maybe it was the way he walked with so much confidence, or maybe even just the way he played, always aggressive and a little snobby as well, you weren’t sure. 

“Like something you see?” He asked with a smirk as he walked towards you, expecting to get a reaction, only one never came. 

“Sorry, I zoned out thinking about all the ways I could ruin that face of yours.” You answered after a couple of seconds with a cocky smile, making him glare at you once more. He was about to say something, but the director of the photoshoot beat him to it, meaning your little bickering would have to wait until later. 

Throught out the shoot, you and the young spanish boy had made eye contact multiple times at moment that neither of you needed to look at each other. Whenever he’d be doing single shoots, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wonder over his body, the way he placed his hands in the air as he juggled, his face as he focused on the ball at his feet, his smile as he looked into the camera, all of it. You’d never admit it out loud though, your pride being too strong to ever even think about doing so. 

Weirdly enough, when it was your turn to be doing single shoots, you could feel his eyes on you. Unlike you, Pablo hadn’t been discret at the fact that he was staying to watch you, planting himself down on a chair right behind the camera. Every once in a while, your eyes would drift to him, quickly looking away once you realized he was already looking at you. 

Finally, you were entering the last ‘block’ of your photoshoot with the boy, this time taking pictures together. It started off good, the two of you posing pretty far away from the other, until one of the photographer asked one of the staff person to place the two of you in the pose they had talked about earlier. You and Gavi both looked at each other confused, wondering what this ‘pose’ was, until the voice of the staff member made you look away the other. 

“Alright, you two, come close please. A little closer. Come on now, don’t be shy. There you go. Okay, Gavi, I am gonna need you to lean on Y/N’s shoulder using your forearm. That’s it! Perfect! And here’s a ball for you.” The staff member finished, handing you a ball. Gavi’s body was now only inches away from yours, the closest the two of you had ever been. As the photographer started taking pictures, you moved the ball around in your hands, holding it in certain poses, throwing it in the air every once in a while. 

As time went on, you realized that the boy next to you had started leaning on your shoulder some more, bringing himself even closer to you then he was before. And suddenly, you felt his head lean down on yours, his eyes starting focused on the camera in front of the two of you. You tried to ignore it the best you could, but somehow found yourself leaning your head onto his forearm that was resting on you. 

Soon enough, the management team called it a day, thanking the two of you for spending your time on this. You and Gavi were quick to disappear into your changing rooms once you had thanked everyone, when the two of you came out, almost at the same time, there was only a couple of people left in the room. The two of you didn’t utter a single word as you both grabbed your belonging and made your way outside the room. 

“Okay. What the actual fuck was that about?” You exclaimed once the two of you had made it out the room, turning around in the empty hallway to face the older boy. 

“Huh?” 

“In there. You leaning on me like that?” 

“I was just doing what the lady told me to do, calm down.” Gavi shrugged before trying to walk past you, only you stepped in front of him, stopping him. 

“Last time I checked, you leaning your head on me like that wasn’t required.” You sassed him, only making him smirk down at you. He was only an inch or two taller than you, but his wide frame always made you feel so small next to him. 

“And last time I checked, princessa, you leaning your head on my arm wasn’t required, yet you still did it.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause you were pushing my shoulder down so hard it was hurting my neck!” You lied, you truly didn’t know why you had felt the need to do, but you sure as hell weren’t about to tell him that. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, cariño.” Pablo said, his smirk growing even wider as he finally walked past you, leaving you dumbfounded in place. 

“Don’t call me that!” You yelled out before catching up to him, walking next to his figure as his eyes stayed focused in front of him. 

“Following me now, aren’t we?” He asked, holding the door out for you. 

“Why are you always so rude to me?” You asked him once the two of you stood in the parking lot, stepping infront of him once again. 

“I’m not.” 

“You are. You’ve always been rude to me, from the moment we met, you decided to be a fucking dick to me. And you’ve never cared to explain to why! Like, what did I do to you for you to treat me like this?” You asked aggressively, making the boy sighed before looking at the ground. 

“Why does it matter?” He asked in a low voice making you let out a laugh. There was no way he was being serious right now. 

“ Well, I don’t know about you, but when someone has a problem with me for no fucking reason, I like to know why.” You stated as you placed both of your hands on your hips, popping one of your hip out to the side. The boy sighed once more once he realized there was no way he was going to be able to get out of this situation. 

“You’re scary.” He answered simply, shrugging his shoulders a bit making you confused. 

“I’m scary?” 

“Yeah. Like, you know what you want, and your confident in yourself, it’s scary. And, I don’t know, I was afraid I’d make a fool of myself if I talked to you. And then you’d think I was some stupid teenage boy who doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” He admitted, his voice barely considered as a whispered, but you had heard every single word that feel from his mouth. You stood there in shock for a couple of seconds before answering the boy. 

“So, this whole time, you’ve been rude to me because you were scared to talk to me?” You asked, there was no anger in your voice, unlike before, some would ever say there was a hint of softness in it. The boy nodded a bit, his eyes staring at the floor. 

“Okay, well, now I think you’re some stupid teenage boy who doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” You teased him with a light smile on your face, making Gavi’s cheek turn slightly red as his eyes stayed focused on the ground. 

“Oi, Gavi, let’s go!” Pedri yelled from his car that was parked near the entrance of the parking lot. Pablo’s eyes finally looked away from the ground, looking at his best friend before shyly looking over to you. 

“I– Um. I have to go.” He stated, stuttering a bit making you chuckle a bit. 

“Score a goal for me tomorrow, will you?” You asked with a soft smile on your face as your eyes locked together. 

“You’re coming?” The boy asked, bitting back a smile to hid his excitement. 

“I can’t. But I’ll be watching.”You answered softly as you stepped closer to him, your eyes still locked as you smile at each other, entering your own little world, completely forgetting what was happening around you. Just was you were about to lean up and press your lips to his, the honk from Pedri’s car echoed in the lot, making the two of you jumped a bit, before looking over at the boy. 

“Save the face sucking for another day, Pablo, I’m giving you 10 seconds to get your ass over here or I’m leaving!” He yelled out from his car window, making his best friend flip him off. 

“You can leave it’s fine.” Gavi yelled back, and the older boy waisted no time leaving the parking lot. 

“How are you getting home?” 

“I heard taxiwoman aren’t too bad.” He answered with a smirk, hoping you’d understand what he meant. 

“Don’t ever call me that, Gavira.” You mumbled, and mere seconds later, his lips were on yours, his hands reaching up to cup both of your cheeks. 

“Bubblegum?” He whispered, once the two of you pulled away, his forehead leaning on yours. 

“What?” 

“Your chapstick, it’s bubblegum flavored, right?” He asked, making you pinch his arm lightly. 

“You kidnapped my chapstick for a while week last month, you’re gonna tell me you never realized what flavor it was?” 

“I didn’t kidnap it! It feel in my bag!” He was quick to defend himself, making you roll your eyes with a smile on your face. 

“Whatever. I am leaving, so if you want a ride, move your butt.” You sassed him before turning around and walking away from him. Soon, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulder, his lips pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“On a serious note, I am gonna need to know you were got it from.” 

“Oh my, God.”

[starlightingsss]

all too well

haymitch x reader oneshot ig?

"i do." the cursed words slipped out of her mouth, as she betrayed herself. she betrayed her mind, betrayed her heart, she married a man who would make her miserable. she married a man that wasn't him, a man that she did not love.

she dreamed of her wedding, since she was a kid and this wedding was beautiful, a stunning venue with a stunning cake and a stunning gown - a perfect wedding.

"perfect". something she'd never think she say, her perfect included him. her perfect always included him, always included haymitch abernathy.

but right now, he wasn't there. right now, he wasn't the one in the suit that she had walked down the isle to - no matter how badly she wanted it to be him, it wasn't. she walked down to isle and ended with a flamboyant capitol man, a man she had met a week ago.

she knew she wanted to be rich, well known - famous even, but is this really what she dreamed of? a life without the love of her life? a life she was forced to live?

she knew better, knew better than to zone out as they cut the cake, uncomfortable with how close her new "husband" was to her. she knew better than to be thinking about him of all people. but could she really help it? she loved him, of course she would miss him, what did they expect?

a wedding with random people, people she had never met before - hell, she didn't even know her maid of honor, and she was walked down the aisle by a butler.

her husband was too close for her comfort, his hand holding her tightly to his side, as she dreaded the events that would take place this evening, their wedding night.

she wouldn't have a choice but to submit, no matter how much she didn't want it - no matter how much she didn't want him, she was going to lose herself.

she had only given herself to haymitch in the past, letting her be his and his only, letting him claim her with the kisses he pressed onto her collarbone, his one and only. but not anymore, not his anymore, not his after she walked out on him in the middle of the night.

she remembered everything, as if it was just yesterday.

snows request for her to marry the capitol man, how he "convinced" her by threatening haymitch's life, how she lied and told haymitch that everything was fine and not to worry about it, how desperately she held him during the last week before her secret departure, where she would walk out in him in the middle of the night and take the first train down to the capital, the train ride that seemed to last too long as she couldn't glance at a clock without thinking about him, the time they woke up, the time she would give him his breakfast, the time he had his first drink of the day, a schedule that she had memorized, how tears fell as she thought about it, how he would wake up in an empty bed, how he would check both of their houses in the victors village, how he would then start waiting for her to come back from "the market" and when she didn't return, how he would go and ask the district folk if they had seen her, how he would've asked to peacekeepers to try and file a missing persons report, how he would've found out that she had applied for a district transfer and he would realize what happened, how she left him. he would've drinken himself half to death, she knew he would've but this time, she wasn't sure who would be there for him, to clean him up, to make sure he drank water, to hug him as he sobered up. but she knew one thing, she was sure of one thing - he would hate her.

that thought weighed heavy on her heart, the man she loved so much hating her was not something she wanted to imagine - losing the love of her life, her best friend, her favorite person, her soulmate.

her thoughts were interrupted by her crude husband as he asked her to leave so they could go "consummate their bond", in their hotel room.

[starythewriter]

KINKMAS 25 MERRY CHRISTMAS VINNIE HACKER X male reader!

WATTPAD

you were getting ready, to go to a amazing event with vinnie. you put all this sexy green out, you brought some oils with you along with a nice prada green purse. your long hair curled up in a soft bun with little bits of red ribbon here and there. you wore a nice green dress that flowed behind your figure as it went down the stairs, the skirt just above the knee with a red bow at the bottom, the sleeves had two more bows with matching small flowers attached to them.

you added some love dust along with oils onto your chest and arms. you got into a private car, feeling yourself as your favorite songs played. the view was amazing, the city lights of new york were amazing you loved seeing ALL of the bright billboards along with the loghts.

you loved any blue lights you could see as your favorite color was blue. however for this occasion you had to wear red and green as it was a christmas themed networking event. however they did have a party section to the house.

this was a house the size of a gigantic mansion with many many sectors. you were so excited it was a great opportunity. you arrived at the event, the paparazzi was insane. but you were focused on getting inside, you went earlier then vinnie, as they opened 50 minutes earlier then the scheduled time, but it was already pretty packed, but nobody would go upstaires yet or go past the first two rooms.

you saw bryce parker "hey Y/N how are you im surpised to see you here" said bryce with a warm smile, his fluffy hair it was so cute, he had such a redefined jawline, you melted thinking about it.

he was wearing a really cute braclet "im great, I know… usually im pretty nervous to be at big events like this, but I decided to step out of my comfort zone… love your braclet… how cute…"

"thank you Y/N, well I look forward to seeing you around, this outfit was a great choice, you look stunning" he said biting his lip, he took a sip of his drink. you were very good at feeling energy he was flustered but nervous, he was beyond cute "thank you I love this outfit of yours, that buttoned up shirt is hot" you said as his shirt was unbottoned, you took a glass of red wine slowly examing his stomach before taking a sip.

"thank you… I-I- you are so memorizing… I-" he said stuttering, you cut him off "relax handsome Ill see you around when they open up the 2nd floor" you said brushing your hand past his ab and walking away. he felt shivers, you heard a small groan from him. you smirked as you had him breaking down for your touch.

he was entranced by you. you were emotionally so excited as you knew that the love dust was working in your favor and now you could have anyone at the event. you then went to the 2nd room, seeing noah beck, he was clearly waiting for vinnie… as you walked toward him, you heard a voice call out to you.

"Y/N" it was Ace akers "hey ace surpised to see you, I thought you werent coming?" you were very excited to see Ace but you were nervous because he was somebody that could easily make you just as flustered as you made bryce feel.

"hey Y/N I originally wasnt but I bryce convinced me to come… you look so beautiful" "thank you ace, you look just so fine… " you said he smirked, his eyes were so pretty, along with his jaw, everything about him was so perfect.

he was staring you down, admiring your outfit. you were the sexiest thing to him. "I like your outfit… you mustve been intentional huh?… considering that shirt wraps around your biceps perfectly" you said with a smile, "haha… well… I heard from someone its what you like" he laughed nervously. you didnt know why. but you were so drawn to ace so you gave him a small kiss.

he kissed back, you squirmed as the touches he gave you made you shiver. "Y/N you… are so fucking sexy… why is it that I cant control myself around you" he said you giggled "relax the show hasnt started yet" you said. "lets go walk around"

it had now been 45 minutes , the entire first floor had opened you were so excited. "in 15 minutes the 2nd floor will open up.. But to pass some time I wanna see you dance with me" said ace.

you smiled, you took his hand and got together on the dance floor. he spun you around. you danced to the music with ace. he gave you a small kissmaking you moan. "your moans are angelic" thank you ace. you said. after some more dancing you both decided to go upstairs as they opened the 2nd floor.

"vinnie is here ace, I have to go, but you are just so hot…" "thank you… Im here if you ever get bored" he said with a smirk. you left him with one finak kiss. in that moment its as if everything stopped and no one was there. you loved his smell, of lavender and his lips felt so good.

"hey vinnie" "hey Y/N, you are fucking sexyyy, Lets go up stairs I want to see the big tree" "thank you vinnie, you are very handsome yourself… its a luxury to have such a handsome man here" "thank you" you kissed him and headed up stairs with vinnie.

the upstairs was so pretty. the christmas tree was pink with pink ornaments and lights. the ornaments were colorful, but still looked beautiful. the tree was decorated beautifully, you liked the decorations, they were unique. you were so happy to meet everyone. you were so nervous about meeting everyone else, but luckily, bryce was there the lighting made him look extra hot…

you and vinnie took photos together, you shined a big bright smile to the camera. "what a fabulous outfit… such a sexy man" you blushed giving him a kiss. quickly the news picked up on the photo just from people in the event sharing it on their stories. you didnt mind it. as this event was heavily monitored, every couple of minutes theyd limit anybody from entering, thats why they opened each floor at different times as the event planners and staff had to check and look all aroud the building to make sure their are no weapons etc.

you had collabed with the event before so you knew they had very strict and advanced security aswell as only 2 entrances a front entrance along with a back entrance.

you gave vinnie another kiss. "come here pretty boy" you moaned as he took you to a private room. locking the door "undress baby" you slowly undressed maintaing eye contact, you felt his eyes roam your entire body. you slowly touched yourself "lay on the table Y/N" he said smirking "wow your so fucking pretty my handsome Y/N"

"thank you vin… you are so sexy" he took his shirt off you brushed your hands along his arms to his abs then to his pants "let me have the honors" you said with a smirk. you unzipped his pants slowly biting down on his thigh as you took his underwear off. you gave him a kiss on his thigh. "relax let me do the work" said vinnie with a warm smile.

"oh not today vinnie relax and i mean RELAX focus on your breathing" you gave him a kiss on his bicep. he moaned feeling shivers down his energy body. he gave you a kiss. he was laying on the table, you quickly got ontop of him slowly setting yourself onto his big girthy dick.

"oh Y/N you are so fucking sexy" he said as he wrapped his hands around your hips, he began to move himself gently into you, it was so good, so much better than any other time that you'd done it. "fuck Y/N i need to cum" he said as he bit down on his lip trying to keep quiet. he came hard. "wow youre so hot vinnie… i needed you to cum so bad" you said placing your mouth over his neck, sucking, nibbling his flesh.

he moaned your name louder. "your too fucking good OH… my god-" he said "focus on that breathing handsome" you moved up and down faster "fuck fuck fuck" he said swaying his hips harder. he grabbed onto your hair pulling harder and harder.

"please y/n please…." he was panting and sweating, his head was spinning and his heart beating so fast… he climaxed, falling into the bed, your lips met his, you two kissing passionately, you pulled away after a while. to catch a breath. you kissed him again being just so hungry for vinnie and his love. your love dust worked so good… vinnie moaned and kissed you. he went for your neck making you arch as his bite down hard.

your body trembled, you were on edge you didn't know how long you guys were gonna last, he pulled you up and laid you down on the table, he placed kisses on your neck. "fuck your making me shiver so hard." he said. "you dont have to hold back on me darling" he looked deep into your eyes, he kissed you deeply on the lips. you kissed back with passion, your hands roaming down his abs. "i need you so badly y/n" you kissed him again, he sucked on your lower lip and licked it. you went the fastest youve ever gone. you both yelled loudly as you came together.

"relax now darling" said vinnie. you moaned as he gave you a kiss. "your a fucking godess" "thank you vinnie" his eyes were admiring you with lust. you loved hearing his heavy breathing.

you both got cleaned up, along with getting your outfits on. "come on baby" said vinnie as he gave you a back massage. "wanna go home, or do you want to stay here Y/N?" "lets stay here and get a drink."

"alright princess" you both headed out, he held your hand the entire way. once on the first floor you both ordered drinks, you sat down. "what do you think the tabloids will say?" you asked vinnie. "im not sure.. but I know a lot of people will attacck you… i do not want that to happen." "dont worry vinnie who cares. I love you and thats what really matters.

nothing else matters. you are what matters to me" a tear dropped down his face "thank you, thank you so much" you hugged him tightly kissing his lips multiple times. he hugged you as tight as he could, his head tucked under your chin. "thank you y/n"

"you really get me and make me feel safe" "Aww" you both ordered a 2nd round of shots. you could see that the sex really got to him in a great way. "you ok vinnie?"

"yes I am good… I- sorry your just… so fucking pretty…" "aw thank you" "i mean it Y/N" you gave him a kiss. you both started to makeout.

"lets go vinnie I am tired." "alright ill order the CAB Y/N" "thanks"

you saw bryce as you were about to leave "leaving so soon?" "yeah… I wanna have some fresh air…"

"alright well take care sexy" he whispered in your ear. "bye handsome your lucky all of these people are here otherwise Id kiss you" he bite his lip. you waved at him. "ah seducing like always huh?"

"of course vinnie… now you already know how things are" "Im surpised there was no kiss."

"of course not I dont need the tabloids grilling me to no end about what I do in my personal life, you know I have to keep everything underwraps to protect my friends, and the people I love"

"I understand… you are so cute…" you both got out of the cab as you arrived to vinnies house. "come in lets watch some netflix Y/N" you smiled at him. "thank you… I have a better idea, lets play mario kart" "oh hell yeah"

THE END!

[sushirrrry]

CELESTIAL | II. NEWTON'S THIRD LAW OF MOTION

7.1k words - on-going story

chapter one here

Chapter One. Fundamentals of Statistics.

I write a few problems down, a few definitions that seem to be a bit more of a challenge. My handwriting flies across the page as I write in a few calculations that would be helpful for the exam tomorrow. I'm not an expert on statistics, but I can problem-solve easily when it comes to mathematics equations.

Everything I look at makes perfect, logical sense when it comes in the form of equation and number sequence. That was the way I liked it.

And if there was one thing that I was good at, it was creating study sheets. While I didn't necessarily need it, I thought that there may be a time tonight during studying that someone does need it.

The possibility of that felt oddly exciting, but I tried not to think too hard into it.

I had made my way home after my two classes this morning. Grabbing lunch at the dining hall, I decided to bring it back to my apartment—just a salad, really—and watched a few episodes of The Twilight Zone on the sofa while I ate. I particularly liked the episode about the bank clerk that enjoys reading, but never has the time– it keeps my attention even though I know what happens in the end.

Chase had chosen to have his classes in the afternoon, I had classes in the mornings on Thursday's. We missed each other, usually, and then were home in the midafternoon together. On Thursday nights, it kind of depended on his schedule, we would normally order in some food and just kind of hang out together.

Lately, though, Thursday afternoons had started to turn into his night to go out with friends. I knew that he had class in the morning and had seemed to overlook this part of his schedule. He leaned more towards getting drunk with friends nowadays than what we had normally scheduled, especially last year.

But that was okay—it was fine. I was fine to study Thursday nights, and I wanted him to be able to have fun, if that's what he wanted.

My only problem was when Chase brought his friends around the apartment. This was the only part of our relationship that slightly bugged me, but of course, he shared the space. I just didn't enjoy this because his friends were horrid, and I would have just rather that they weren't involved at all.

Of course, I tried not to be too much trouble. I sat back and let Chase do what he needed to do—if that meant having friends over, I wanted him to do that. I wanted him to have the experiences that he wanted, and I knew that he would be courteous to me, as well.

But that didn't keep his friends from being major blow heads.

After I ate, I had finished watching some of my show, and decided to get a start on creating some questions to go over for the statistics course. I figured that at least getting the basics down for the exam would be good—even if it wasn't going to get her the A, I still wanted her to have a clear understanding of what was being asked so she could at least have a solid effort.

I'm sat at the small table in our dining and living space; it's not much, but we're able to use it for studying or having a meal together. I decided to sit outside of my bedroom to start, the light from the living room brightened it up – it was nice, quiet.

Until Chase and his friends have arrived over to our place. I have my headphones in, eyes averting to the three men as they walk in laughing, their voices loud now.

I notice that they have started to unpack a few bags from their trip to the store. There's some food, some drinks—by some, I mean, quite a few. I hadn't asked any questions about the plans for the evening, mostly because I wasn't really interested in whatever they were.

But I did keep looking up occasionally, seeing the cases of beer, the handle of liquor, and bags of crisps that were starting to grace our small kitchen.

Again, no questions asked—that was usually the best policy when it came to things like this. I decided to keep to myself, working on categorical sequences that would be used to study patterns.

Through my headphones, I can hear a bit of banter from the three of them—I don't know if they're trying to be quiet at all, but I can hear them clearly through the Mozart No. 23 in A Major.

"So’s he, like," The tall blonde one, with the very noticeable Liverpool accent, scoffs, "Gonna stay there all night?"

I can hear them beside me, but I'm just pretending that the headphones are blocking out all the sound. They aren't, but I pretend that they are for my own sake. Maybe focusing on the work in front of me will keep me distracted.

"That guy's totally brings the vibe down— we like never see him out or anything." The other guy says. His voice is quiet, but not quiet enough. "How do you sleep here with him? He's weird, bro. Like never talks."

I look up from the computer screen just a bit, just enough to see that Chase notices that I've heard what they're saying. Chase and I make eye contact for a moment; he shakes his head.

He noticed that I heard them, and that I'm able to continue to hear them. I scoot out from my chair—the one that I pay rent to sit in—before I move up towards the fridge to grab something to drink.

They're staring at me now that I've moved, almost like it's an anomaly to them.

That's the thing—Chase has been my roommate since last year. We were paired together randomly; I didn't care who I roomed with because I felt like I could get along with anyone if it really came to it. I wasn't really an issue, I didn't think. I was quiet, kept to myself. I didn't think that I was necessarily a problem.

Chase was extremely kind– he was a bit unsure of himself, maybe testing out the waters of who he wanted to be. We got along fine, he was a bit shy when he first arrived, too. That's how we became pretty good friends. Maybe we didn't have all of the same interests, but I knew that we looked out for one another.

But then things changed when he started to meet people who wanted to go out every night, and who were drinking to get drunk. And do other things, I guess.

Chase never brought anyone home or anything, which was good– well, for me. Maybe not him, I wasn't sure. We didn't talk about that.

His friends, the drinking, the going out– it didn't stop Chase and I from being friends. It just made me a bit uneasy when he's brought his friends to our apartment that we shared.

His friends weren't my friends.

His friends were on the football team and went out to pubs to find pretty girls. That just wasn't where I was, and it wasn't what I was directly focused on in school. Girls weren't interested in astrophysics, I seemed to find.

Chase's stare on me doesn't go unnoticed as I look back from grabbing a can of Coke from the fridge. I make my way back to the small table, starting to pack up the papers I had spread around it.

"Harry, you remember Hayden and Shawn, right?" Chase looks at his friends and I can tell he's trying to mitigate like always. He looks back at me with a bit of sadness reigning in his face, "We'll leave you alone, H, you can stay and study."

I shut my laptop, knowing it's much easier to find a more comfortable spot elsewhere.

I had to be at the library soon, anyways.

"No, it's fine," I say, a bit quiet as I watch his friends grumble under their breaths "I'm meeting someone anyways."

The tall blonde with a middle part and a denim jacket scoffs out a laugh before I feel a rush of anxiety flood my upper chest as I can feel the judgement and overwhelming sense of unease. I clear my throat, grabbing my laptop and loose papers before heading towards my bedroom.

"Wait," I hear Chase following me, but I just make my way to my room in a few strides anyways. I start to pack up a bag of my belongings, eyes looking up at my friend. "Why don't you stay here and drink with us? You don't even have to drink, really. It'll be fun. Maybe they can, I don't know, get to know you."

"I'd rather not get to know them," I tell him honestly. My lip pulls into my mouth, his exterior shows a bit of defeat as he stands inside the doorframe. "They're pricks, Chase."

Chase looks over his shoulders at his friends who have started to make themselves at home. They've started to take already opened liquor out of our cabinets, putting them on the counter space around the unopened ones. They take bowls out and plates and other things that are also mine but it's easier to stay quiet.

"Just keep everyone out of my room, please." I tell my friend before I pick my bag up from the floor. I grab all of the statistics papers from the desk, placing them in their own folder.

Chase stands at the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, keeping conversation. "You meeting with Niall, then?"

Niall was one of my closest friends in uni. He was majoring in engineering, but we had a few math classes together which had made us grow close. We had the same type of love for our education; wanting it to be the best we could be.

We were competitive with grades, in a fun way. We liked knowing how everything worked and figuring out problems together.

Niall and I had gone to a few parties and events together in the past– we had both understood that wasn't our scene very quickly.

And that's why we were friends.

"No," I shake my head. "He's busy tonight. I think has some sort of club fundraiser. Don't really know."

Chase's face changes a bit. I look up to him when he squints at me, his lips quivering a bit into a smile. It's a bit unnerving when he does so, and it's just a bit confusing at first.

"What? What's wrong?" I ask, grabbing my shoes that sit over by the closet to put on my shoes.

"Is it someone I know? The person you're meeting?" Chase doesn't attend back to his friends, and only seems to be entertained by what I'm doing. I blink a few times at him, wondering his angle.

"Uh," I think a few times over at how Chase could have possibly known Stella, "How would I know? Maybe. It's just a girl from my statistics class. Needs some tutoring for our exam tomorrow." I throw my bag over my shoulder before I'm standing in front of him.

We're standing in front of each other, but he's not backing down from his way in the door. Chase's smile flips up and he stares at me for a moment.

"Chase." I say, pushing my glasses up, "I have to get to the library."

"Tutoring is kind of sexy, huh?" He teases, my eyes roll at his stupid comment.

"It's not like that." I tell him quickly, shaking his head.

"Surely, she asked you to study with her. Not the other way around." He questions, putting his arms across the doorframe so that I couldn't leave. I stand in front of him, trying my best to dodge the questions and seemingly meaningless accusations.

"Does that matter?" I ask, a bit confused by his statement.

I watch as Chase smirks, his eyes lighting up at my words, "Hope you won't end up in 414.”

Pushing my glasses up my face, I shake my head a few times as I stare at him, completely unsure of what he was talking about. I don't even want to ask, but I can see that he's pushing me to, so I shrug my shoulders at him. I've given up that he's going to let me go.

"I don't know what that means." I say to him before I watch his eyes get bigger.

"You don't know about 414? Damn, you do live under a rock."

I roll my eyes, pushing at his shoulder to try to move past him before he pushes me back and laughs a little.

"414 is a room on the top level of the library where no one ever goes—it's like, completely hidden. There's a journal for it across from the room where people like, write in time slots to go and fuck because it's a completely soundproof study room that you can lock. For all those freaky kids. You'd probably be into that, honestly."

I lick over my lips as I push into him again, but he's not budging. I look at him, trying to get him to wipe the smug smile from his face before he raises his brows at me.

I click my tongue, "I'm going to completely ignore this conversation, if you don't mind. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Chase rolls his eyes, letting me finally go by removing one arm from the doorframe.

I knew I've made a mistake saying anything at all, as I push past him to try to make my way out of the apartment in one piece without thinking anymore into what kind of information he's just given me.

I walk into the kitchen; it's not much, so it feels a bit cramped with the four of us now inhabiting the space. Chase's friends are standing around and suddenly quiet when I approach the room. I unscrew my water bottle at the sink, filling it up in the silence of the room.

“What's up, Einstein?" The other friend with very dark hair smirks at me, both lingering as Chase approaches too. "Why don't you take a break from studying and hang tonight with the boys? Or are we too much for you?"

I ignore it– pulling my lips into my mouth as I bite my tongue. I screw the lid back on before I turn and see Chase looking at me.

"We're just having a few people over tonight, nothing big. Then we're going to happy hour at Lou's." Chase assures before I nod at him. I clear my throat before pulling at the straps of my backpack.

"That's– okay, yeah, that's fine." I assure him. "I'll be back later."

With another nod, I go to the front door where a small dish holds all our keys. I grab my lanyard that holds my car key and my apartment key before I start to head towards the stairs. A few sets of those, and I'm on the main floor as I move out towards the library which is only a short walk.

Just my thoughts and I again.

It had thankfully stopped raining a few hours ago, which just left everything quite damp and wet. I trudged through a few puddles on my way there, looking across campus.

There weren't a lot of people walking around, probably because it was also a bit on the cool side. I had been wearing the same black hoodie from the morning, so I wasn't cold on my walk over there.

But it was getting to be the colder part of the year. England had rainier seasons, and the fall always seemed to have the worst weather. At least snow looked nice—rainy, damp, and dreary were just a bit depressing.

Making my way to the library, I open the large door and smile at the girl who sits behind the desk at the entrance. She's always very friendly, giving me a warm welcome when I walk in. She had short blonde hair, golden brown eyes and is always looks like she's happy to be there.

If she's not, she's putting on a great show.

“Hey, Harry,” She states softly, “How's it going?”

I wish I knew her name– she knows mine, so I feel a bit awkward as I approach the desk. She's never really talked to me before, but I smile at her.

“Uh, it's good,” I nod, rolling a hand through my hair, “I– just have an exam tomorrow. So,” I reference upstairs, feeling that my cheeks are most definitely hot from the way she's hanging in every word.

She’s sitting behind the desk, a book on the table as she seems to have been reading while she sat there. I know I should say something– maybe add a bit of conversation but I don't know what else to say.

I smile and nod a few times, using my hand to scratch at my hair in an uncomfortably awkward way.

“I’ll see–“ I start.

“Would you–“ She says.

When we speak at the same time, we both smile, and I hear her giggle for a moment before she shakes her head.

“I was just saying,” She licks her lips, “If you're ever interested, we have a book club here on Tuesday nights. I-I mean, I’m just saying because you're always here– I don't know if you read for fun or anything,” She clears her throat, “But if you did.”

I look down at the book in her hands, nodding a few times before I speak again. “That– is that the book?”

She notices that I caught sight of what she was reading, looking up me and holding the cover up, “Yes– well, no, actually. It's just a Murakami book– After Dark. This isn't what we read for book club– well, kind of.”

I looked at the cover and back to her, cutting her off as she seems a bit flustered. “I may check it out, yeah,” I swallow before clarifying, “The club. The club and the book.”

The girl bites her lip before she shakes her head, “Um– sorry, I’m Faye, by the way.”

I bite my cheek as I watch her eyes crinkle at the sides when her cheeks turn up in a small smile.

“Faye.” I say quietly before I nod at her, “I’ll see you around.”

She nods back at me in acknowledgement before I start to make my way back towards the steps, so I can make my way to the third floor where I usually have my set up. It's nice because it's always the least busy of the levels. The first floor holds computers, which are the most used for printing and workshopping. The second and fourth floors have more study rooms, and the third floor is mostly aisles of books and free tables.

That's where I prefer to be, close to the window so that I can look out occasionally over all the people who are making their way across campus; heading wherever they need to be on a Thursday evening. It also adds a bit of lighting until the sun heads back on the other side of the world, which is helpful just for a while.

The watch on my wrist reads 6:12pm. I had a while before I was expecting someone else to arrive.

It had started to get a bit darker—mostly because the clouds had started to overcast, which meant that the sun wasn't visible anyways. The days were starting to shorten, and winter was starting to become a bit more of a reality.

As I sat and studied other classes, I had realized that my watch started to move a bit faster every time I looked at it.

Six turned into seven.

Seven turned into eight. And I was still sitting at the table by myself.

Being in the library by myself was lonely– it was the first time that loneliness and being alone were coexisting. Something about being stood up, being left alone was a different level of loneliness. It was an embarrassing loneliness.

I tried to focus on other work at my table, tried to think more about Mach's principle as I read through the textbook. I tried to ignore the time, tried to ignore the feeling in my chest that maybe I had miscommunicated about times or where we were supposed to meet. Maybe I had given her a false impression, or we miscommunicated on time.

There were reasons I didn't put expectations on people– in many ways, they never showed up like they were supposed to. I didn't want to feel disappointment anymore, or that my excitement didn't match others.

Doing good deeds seemingly never panned out in my favor, as it showed. Maybe I read into it too much, maybe she felt bad for me and decided to ask to hang out so I wouldn't feel so shy. Maybe she said yes because so had approached her, now she felt bad.

It worked, I guess. For a bit.

I couldn't focus– I hated that feeling. I never had a problem with it before, and now these ideas of anxiety rushed through my head as I tried to put my nose to the page to forget about the way that this had made me feel. My glasses fell to the bridge of my nose, and I pushed them up to their place.

A heavy sigh fell through my lips as I noticed the time that had simply slipped by.

8:30.

I had been waiting for hours– I told her I'd be here at six, and I gave her the benefit of the doubt for an hour. But now it was spelled out perfectly for me, and I didn't really want to read between the lines.

Sitting back in the wooden library chair, I ran a hand through my hair as I finally decide that it's time for me to start heading home.

Hopefully, Chase and his friends have moved onto the bars, and won't be there when I get back. That would just put me in a worse mood. As I push myself up to start packing up my belongings to head home, I hear the door of the staircase open.

I'm the only one up here most nights, so the noise elicits me to jerk my head up. The sound of clicking heels on the tile make my eyebrows knit before I see the culprit of the noise, and the person heading towards me from around the large bookcases.

My eyes gravitate towards the extraordinarily long, bronze legs that melt into tall, brown boots on the ends. A cream skirt that sits short on her thighs but high on her waist, with a knit sweater top that has a few buttons done up in the middle, but the rest of open in a triangular shape on her torso. Also bronze, also tall.

I've never seen anything like that in the library before.

"Oh my god, there you are!" The girl stomps her way over, her voice relatively loud for the space as I feel an unsettled amount of surprise. It is a library, after all, and she's a bit loud.

I'm a bit taken aback; I fall into the chair once again as I'm watching her pull out the chair in front of me.

"Who knew there were so many levels of this place?" She laughs to herself– the glitter on her eyes shines so bright as I notice the crinkles by her eyes. "Don't know if I've—well, I don't think I've ever been in here properly, really."

It's such a difference of what she looked like just hours before. The tear stains are gone, there's a lightness to her now that's different. The makeup coating her face is natural and dewy with such high points of shine, her lips pouty and brown with a glossy finish.

I'm absolutely confused and feeling suddenly warm underneath the black hoodie at the same time.

But there's also a slur to her words as she places her hands and the small bag on the wooden table loudly.

"I'm sorry I'm late," She rolls her eyes dramatically, "I got dragged to this thing– well, I mean, I had to go to it. But I thought that this was a really good excuse to leave." She giggles a little, her smile bright and white.

I watch as her sleek, dark brown hair coats over her shoulders. It's got a bounce of soft curls that are much different than the chaos of curls that had been thrown into a ponytail earlier.

I'm in a bit of shock as I look away from her and back to the papers that have surrounded me just moments before.

"Um– I mean, are you—" I look up at her, watching as her eyes struggle to follow mine. There's a soft smile on her lips as she leans on the table a bit almost like my question is the most exciting thing to her. "Are you drunk?"

Her face falls a bit, as if I just found out her biggest secret. She shakes her head a few times, "No– no, I just had a few—" She shakes her head more, but I can tell that her balance is a bit off as she shakes her head. "I'm totally fine."

In the moment, I see that her body seems to stiffen at recognizing that my energy simply doesn't match hers. She can see that I'm a bit taken back by her suddenness of being here, and I don't really know how to react to her sitting across from me now.

I don't really know how to feel now because I'm not sure I was planning for this situation at all. Especially from the morning that she had. It was different, it wasn't exactly what I had expected from her, and I'm trying to think about how to proceed.

"So," I start, a bit confused, "you're not here to study.”

I watch as her eyes shift over the papers that I am starting to put away, maybe a bit guilty that she had come in the first place. Maybe it would have been better to be stood up than to watch the look on her face.

"Oh, are you, like," She licked over her lips, her eyes batting a few times before she notices that I've started to pick up a few things around me. "Were you getting ready to leave?” The look on my face must register because her eyes drop and she bites her lip, “Oh, fuck—okay, yeah. I'm sorry. I'm so stupid– I'm sorry."

"No, you're not. I just– must've been some miscommunication." I tell her softly, nodding a few times to remind us both that we had just been mistaken.

Stella goes to stand from her spot, pushing herself up from the chair before she pulls the skirt down her legs a bit. I watch as she grabs the small bag that had been sitting on her shoulder when she walked in.

She tucks her hair behind her ear, and I notice the small earrings that are in the dainty shape of stars settle into her lobes.

I clear my throat.

"You didn't have to—I mean, you didn't have to come, if you were having fun. I just– I mean, I thought you needed help.” I tell her softly, watching as she seems a bit lost about where to go now.

As if this was the only place she was planning on going. Almost like she didn't really see this outcome, or maybe felt like she wasn't wanted here. That wasn't the truth at all, but I didn't know how to express that.

A bit of glitter has fallen from her eyes, landing softly on her cheeks as she stands at the table.

"I knew that I was going to leave the party early," She nods her head softly, "I just didn't—yeah, I messed up and– like, I do need help but I just... Sorry for wasting your time."

There's a moment when she starts to walk off that I stand from my seat, pushing the chair back. A weird, unidentifiable feeling comes over me.

“Stella, wait."

Her head turns back towards me, a bit of a stumble in her step at the high-heeled brown boots that stack up her calves and to her knee. The unsteadiness of her walking seems a bit dangerous to me, and I don't really want to see her fall.

"Can I—I mean, don't feel like you have to say yes but," I push my hands into my jean pockets as I take in a deep breath, "Let me take you back to your friends, or something. I mean, I don't want you to—" I shake my head at my words, knowing that they sound a bit odd as we don't know each other at all. "You shouldn't be walking on campus by yourself at night."

Her eyebrows knit together, like she was trying to process the way that I spoke to her. She stared at me, a familiar stare from earlier in the morning. This time, she looked a bit more vulnerable. It was almost like she was in disbelief that I would even offer in the first place.

"Oh," She turns to me a bit, her arms crossed over her chest. "Yeah, sure."

Before there's any more conversation, I start to pack my belongings back in my backpack. All of the papers I had created for her were stuffed back into the folders, hopefully she didn't even notice that I had done that to begin with. My cheeks flush just at the thought of how ridiculous it sounded now.

Once the backpack is full, I throw it over my shoulder and start to move a bit closer to her.

Orange blossom and citrus melt from her skin, which makes me shut my eyes just at the idea of it. We start to head down the steps of the library, her feet almost dragging underneath her.

I'm not entirely sure that she realizes how many drinks she's had, but I let her take the side of the railing so that she can make her way down without tripping.

On the last staircase, her toe gets stuck underneath her foot, which makes her stumble a few times. I reach my hand out, grabbing at her elbow to steady her as she gasps at the way her balance has been thrown off. The immediate touch burns my palm, feeling her skin through the sweater material of her top.

"You okay?" I ask, watching as she nods her head a few times, humming—possibly a bit embarrassed by how off she really is. "Where do we need to get you?"

I watch as her brain starts to turn at the thought of where she needs to get to. I wonder how she got here in the first place, and who let her walk around campus like this on her own. I try to meet her eyes as she rubs at them, a bit of makeup smudging as she does so.

"Um," She shakes her head, "Flats towards 12th West. Don't really know what they're called."

We're standing outside of the library now; I'm facing her as she tries to recall where we need to go. I don't know that I've ever really dealt with a drunk person before like this. Chase was better at taking care of himself, so this was new to me.

I nod a few times, "I'm headed over there, too. Can you call a friend to ask?"

I watch as she hums to herself, agreeing with me and grabbing her cellphone out of her purse. It immediately drops to the ground from the slip of her fingers, landing with a crunch.

"Son of a fucking bitch," She exclaims, moving to squat down to grab it, but I'm already there.

Her reflexes are obviously not what they need to be, as she puts her hand over mine when we both reach for the phone. She doesn't pull away quickly, instead, keeping it there for a moment as I turn the phone around in my palm so that she can grab it.

"Thanks," She says softly, looking at the newly broken screen that leaves a large crack up the middle of her phone. "Fuck."

I watch her go to unlock the device, scrolling through her apps before landing on one and looking at it a bit intensely. The crack seems to not be that big of a deal anymore as she starts to focus harder on the screen.

"This building, here," I see that she's looking at the Find My Device, looking at a device that is right in the general direction of my apartment building. A friends contact pops up, and I try to see where it is.

The closer I look at the device, the more I notice... it is my flat building.

I take in a breath as I look at the girl, wondering if she had partaken in the Jack Daniels that had sat on the counter before I left for the library. I wonder if the scent of orange blossom would linger on my sofa at home.

The odd thought is immediately pushed from my brain as I return to reality. "I live over there, so I'll just walk you back, okay? Tell me if anything looks familiar."

My eyes linger over her body that she is crossing her arms over. The slight chill in the air makes her legs to shift a few times as we stand. I can tell that her discomfort is overwhelming her, and I feel like watching her is hurting me in a way.

"Here," I set my backpack on the ground by my feet for a moment.

Her eyes watch me do so before I pull the black hoodie from my torso, over my head. I knock my glasses on my face a bit so they're on the edge of my nose. The warmth of the cover on my body is now gone, but I watch as she seems a bit uncertain on what I'm doing.

"Take this. It's a bit of a walk." I hand her the black hoodie, her eyes trailing over it for a moment. I can see there's hesitation, which only makes the anxiety settle in my chest at her unwillingness to take the piece of clothing.

This is probably weird, and I regret it immediately.

I watch as she grabs it from my hand to throw over her body, a bit disoriented. When she lifts her arms up, the edges of her top move up around the bottom of her ribs.

I flush immediately, a heat rising up my neck almost disregarding the coolness in the air tonight.

My eyes look away, but seeing her head pop out from the hoodie makes me feel better that at least she can stay warm now.

I can't imagine that someone has allowed her to be out here like this. She walked all this way, alone, without someone to help her. She can barely walk in a straight line as we start down the other towards the apartment.

A bit of wind sweeps through, her legs exposed, and my own arms now just bare with my t-shirt.

I don't know how to firmly create conversation with her– mostly because I know that her mind isn't in the right place. Stella and I do not seem compatible, and every move she makes reminds me of that. I've watched an odd twelve hours of her life, from a huge mess to a complete mess.

But, something about her is intriguing. I’m the curious type.

My hands push into my pockets, the backpack thankfully shielding my back as we walk down the cobblestone pathways. We've walked a bit in silence, and I feel like that's for the best. But I try to give a bit of talking points in case she needs it.

"Anything look familiar?" I say, trying to keep myself warm as I feel her sway a bit against me.

Her eyes move from their site in the path to where we are on campus.

"N-No," Her teeth chatter, and I feel incredibly guilty for not driving over here instead. "B-but this is s-so nice of you." She turns her head, a mess of soft curls in her face as she pushes they out of her eyes. "You must h-have a good m-mum."

I knit my brows together, a bit confused by her logic. I push my hands far in my pocket as I grit my teeth together at how cool out it is. "Why do you say that?"

"Only a g-guy with a nice m-mum would walk a g-girl home in her going-out clothes without l-looking at her ass and just covering her u-up more." Stella chuckles a little bit; it sounds like she's trying to make a joke, but it only aches in my chest as she crosses her arms over her chest tightly.

I didn't really find that funny.

I pull my lips into my mouth as I turn my lips up just enough to acknowledge her humor. "You just need to get home safely."

I hear her sniffle next to me, the coldness getting to her. The bright pink of her nose is noticeable as the coolness hits us.

My apartment building is in sight, her eyes reach up. "This is where the party was." Her hand points directly at my building before I nod a few times.

"I live there, actually," I say, biting my lip. "I think my roommate was throwing the party you went to. His name is Chase."

Stella clears her throat, wiping at her nose, "Oh! Yeah, yeah. I know Chase.” She tells me, biting her lip, “I didn't know you lived there. You're never there when we come over.”

I take a breath in, “I– I probably am there. I just– I just don't really…”

“Not your scene?” She asks, the heel of the boots click across the pavement.

I shrug. “Not really. I– I don't drink or anything. I don't know.”

Stella tucked her hair behind her ear, “You don't have to drink. Maybe you could just hang out. You seem,” I look over at her once she pauses, “You seem really nice.”

I tuck my bottom lip between my teeth before I feel the tinge of a smile. “Thanks. You're pretty nice, too.”

When we reach the door, I open it before she walks inside the lobby. We make our way to the stairs– the elevator is seemingly always broken. I take the lead, going in front of her before we reach the second level.

When we make our way down the hall and to the front door of my flat, Stella doesn't say anything else. She just seems to accept that this is where she needs to be, and she seems to recognize where she is.

The music is over-stimulatingly loud from where we're standing out front, and I’m trying to anticipate walking into it. My hands reach into my pockets as I grab the keys. She looks much smaller wrapped in the black hoodie as it drapes down her front, hiding the remnants of the cream skirt that is gracing her small frame.

I stick the key in the door, pushing it open and hearing the blast of music immediately hit us both.

They hadn't left yet, like they said they would.

When we walk in, I move in first, Stella following behind. I look around, seeing more faces that I didn't know. There are significantly more faces now, and I just let out a sigh.

When I walk towards the kitchen, I can feel Stella behind me before I catch Chase’s eye, but I hear a louder voice first.

"Stella," I hear, "where the fuck did you go?"

I watch the blonde man from earlier approach her immediately disregarding me, a beer in his hand as he gets too close to us. I watch hesitantly as he pulls her closer, as if my existence was purely nonexistent to him.

I drop my keys in the small dish before star making my way through the crowd of people to walk back down the hall and to my bedroom, as if the past hour didn't happen. The noise of the bass is a bit overwhelming; the people don't seem to interest me.

"Needed to go for a walk." I hear her say, "I thought you guys were going to get something to eat?"

"Harry!" My eyes move to the kitchen where Chase seems a little looser than before; his smile undoubtedly bigger as he comes closer to me.

My head turns back, as I feel a grip on my arm before I can make a getaway.

"You found Hayden's girlfriend?" He asks, his eyes moving towards the familiarity of the brunette with amber eyes who had my black hoodie on over her body.

Everyone was way too drunk to miss that part. The black hoodie– I’m sure if someone knew, I'd be in trouble for that.

I stare at her talking to Hayden, her face looking relatively upset from their conversation. His hand reaches to her waist, pulling her in to kiss her.

Immediately, I look away. I feel a racing in my heart that's feels completely unnatural and like anything else I've ever felt before. Maybe the feeling of throwing up is also present, which is also weird to me.

My head turns away from the interaction– I start to pull away from Chase, back to the safer confines of my room. Back where my time and kindness aren't taken for granted.

Back to where something as simple as watching that interaction doesn't add a ridiculous ping of annoyance in the settlement of my chest.

"Yeah, something like that." I say to him, moving away before he can follow me to my room, just like earlier.

"How was your studying?" He asks, pretending like he cares for a moment. I can tell by the look in his eyes he won't remember this conversation tomorrow.

I turn towards him, holding my door in my hand, "Don't know if she's going to remember anything tomorrow for the exam. But I tried."

With a simple shut, the music is still a bit too loud from the other side of the door. But, out of sight, out of mind.

I had a stats exam to finish studying for.

______________

[captainsophiestark]

Same Page

Harley Keener x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: It's hard to find time for couple activities in the middle of a Stark lab. Luckily, Harley and his partner seem to be on the same page.

Word Count: 1,450

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I took deep breaths, trying everything possible to keep my hand steady as I worked on the delicate machine before me. The rest of the lab completely faded away within a few moments, to the point I didn't even notice it anymore. Until recently, I hadn't quite been able to do that over the noise in my brain going "Stark Lab!" excitedly over and over.

For the past few months, I'd been working at the highest lab-level within Stark Industries. An internship in college had turned into a job, which had more recently turned into where I was now: working shoulder to shoulder with Tony Stark on his biggest, most important projects, and with the freedom to pursue projects of my own. It was my dream job, even when it meant headaches and long hours.

"Hey-"

I heard somebody come into my workspace, but clearly, they knew me well enough to recognize when I was in the zone. They stopped short, thankfully, giving me the space I needed to finish what I was working on without losing my focus. When I got the last of the microscopic pieces into place, I let out a deep sigh and stood, wiping my forehead with my arm.

When I returned my attention to the workshop space around me, I found my boyfriend of the past few months, Harley Keener, standing just past the doorway and watching me with a grin.

"You get that all taken care of?" he asked. I grinned back at him.

"I did, actually. Thanks for not interrupting me while I was in the zone."

Harley shrugged. "Eh, you do it for me, I'll do it for you."

"I think you get a few more extra credit points than I do, since part of the reason I don't interrupt you is you're usually working on projectile weapons. One poorly-timed distraction could mean an accidental potato to the face."

Harley snorted and rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face all the same.

"So..." he started, coming to stand next to me, so close our shoulders were touching. "You ready to get out of here?"

I grinned. "Hell yeah I am."

Harley and I had been planning a nice date night for the past week and a half, since it could be seriously challenging to find time to ourselves between work, school, and being called on by Tony Stark and the Avengers to basically be crisis tech support. We'd aligned our schedules perfectly, put together a list of everything we wanted to do, and even planned to leave a little early so that we'd lower the chances of being waylaid by somebody on our way out. Tonight was the night we were putting our plan into action.

I quickly put my project away, then looped my arm through Harley's as the two of us headed back through Stark Tower and towards the elevator. We made it about two full hallways before running into a road bump, which was honestly farther than I'd been expecting.

"Hey! Perfect, I was just about to come looking for you two!"

Harley and I shared a look as Tony popped into the hallway ahead of us, a familiar, slightly manic look in his eyes. He lit up when he saw us, heading back to the door he'd just come out of and motioning quickly for us to follow him.

"Come on, I'm on the edge of a breakthrough here, I need a sounding board."

I sighed, but started to follow Tony anyway. I stopped short when Harley caught my hand and pulled me back.

"You know we can just ditch him, right? He might give us some shit, but he'll live. We can still get out of here for our date night."

"I know we can, but... whatever this is, it seemed kind of important. And if he just needs a sounding board... it probably won't take too long, right?"

Harley hummed. "It's a fair point, since he usually gets back on a roll pretty quickly and tunes out the rest of the world. Alright, let's do it."

I gave him a little smile as he moved to follow Tony, keeping my hand held tight in his. The minute we cleared the door into the room, however, the warm fuzzy feeling in my chest was completely overriden by the absolute onslaught of information coming at us all at once.

Tony had every screen lit up, every possible 3D rendering floating around us, and every available surface covered in some kind of notes, tools, or spare parts. To my surprise, I found Peter and Bruce already in the room with him, which didn't bode well for Harley and I getting out of here quickly.

"Alright, here's the situation," Tony started, launching into his speech as soon as we were through the door. That's how I knew it was serious; he normally never missed an opportunity to give Harley and I a little friendly teasing when we were holding hands in the workshop. "I was working through some regular maintenance on the arc reactor with Dum-E, and something occured to me."

In typical Tony Stark fashion, by "something", he meant a genius-level breakthrough that had the potential to revolutionize everything we were already doing and working on here. The longer he talked, the more excited I got about the possibilities for discovery sitting on the tables in front of us. Harley and I had dropped each other's hands about halfway through Tony's opening speech, both of us needing to move around the lab to get a better look at everything laid out here.

"Obviously, this has a lot of potential," Tony said, finishing his explanation with a flourish as he addressed me, Harley, Peter, and Bruce. "That's why I want all hands on deck for tonight. Let's dig into this and see what we get."

My gut reaction was enthusiastic agreement, but Harley and I had made plans for tonight. It wouldn't be fair to him to just abandon that without a second thought.

I glanced over at my boyfriend, catching his eyes across the table. He nodded towards the door, and I frowned, but followed him in that direction while Peter, Bruce, and Tony put their heads together.

"Hey," said Harley, keeping his voice low enough so that only I would hear him as we put our heads together. "Look, I know we had a whole thing planned for tonight, but... I have to say, I kinda want to stick around and help with this."

"Really?" I asked, my heart leaping at his words. Harley nodded, looking braced for me to be upset, but I just grinned back at him in response. "Har, I can't tell you how relieved I am to hear you say that. I know we've been trying to carve out time for a night just the two of us, but..."

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime breakthrough, and we can pretty easily move our plans by a night or two."

"Exactly! Oh my god, have I told you lately how relieved I am to have you as a boyfriend? I tried to explain something like this to a guy in college and he was furious, he dumped me the next time I emerged from the lab long enough to pick up my phone."

Harley grinned. "Well, it's a good thing we've both got a little mad scientist streak in us, isn't it?"

"Hell yeah it is."

I leaned forward quickly, giving Harley a brief kiss that he immediately returned. We broke apart with matching smiles, until a voice from the middle of the lab broke the moment.

"Hey! Are you two just gonna hide in the corner and make out, or are you gonna get over here and help us?"

Tony had his hands on his hips with an eyebrow raised in our direction, while Bruce and Peter both looked a little embarassed behind him. I caught Harley rolling his eyes, but I just laughed.

"We decided we're gonna help!" I announced, taking Harley's hand and pulling him to the center of the room with me. "Although we formally request uninterrupted free time next week for leaving the lab to makeout. And go to dinner and stuff."

Tony snorted. "Deal. Now come on, the two of you are half of my best team. I need your eyes on this."

Harley and I shared a smile behind his back, then joined the rest of our group as they poured over data and blueprints. It was by far too early to tell, but this wasn't the first time Harley and I had proven to be perfectly matched. And I knew for sure that at this moment, I couldn't have picked a better partner than him.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

[miraculous-pyxie]

marinette headcanon time

marinette’s knees are filled with little scars and long-term bruises from how many time she falls over 

she carries a very cute first aid kit in her backpack just in case her skin breaks or if she needs a quick ice pack (those lil crack and shake things that get really cold)

marinette became the go to person when somebody got hurt is phys ed when the teens were younger. she eventually got first aid certified.

 marinette used to carry a bit more weight (you see her parents genetic make up) but from becoming ladybug she burns a lot of calories/fat from running around all day. to keep people/parents from getting suspicious, she starts running which keeps her even more in shape.

little marinette got into sewing because her mom always needed to repair her clothes from the rips and tears they would get from her falling over. she felt guilty about it so she said that she would do it. her mom taught her then she started teaching herself

I love the idea that Adrien and Marinette get stronger and more flexible from using the miraculous. Adrien has an excuse that this is how he needs to look for modeling (everyone believes that) but marinette has less of an excuse so she has to flub saying she started going to the gym and attempt to become less clumsy. not wanting it to be a lie, she starts going to a gym once a week for an hour (this is where she does her runs instead).

marinette meditates with her mom whenever she’s stressed and gets lightly told off when she starts fidgeting too much

along with Tikki’s cookies, marinette keeps a stash of protein shakes and protein bars in her room

 marinette has ADHD so she is prone to zoning out and has accidentally zoned out in someone’s direction before then zones back in and profusely apologizes for ”staring” at them

marinette will hyperfocus on a project for hours and she has almost missed patrol several times because of it.

adding onto that, she will sometimes be working till 3 am so getting up at 7 am for school is really hard. (delayed sleep phase syndrome let’s goooo)

on top of that, coffee is her best friend. not because of the energy boost but it keeps her focused in school. (Alya doesn’t know about the ADHD at first and thinks her best friend has a severe coffee addiction)

from becoming ladybug, Marinette has actually gotten very coordinated.  she was very clumsy as a kid, but now it only spikes when she feels emotionally vulnerable. (i.e. around Adrien, when she’s nervous)

 Adrien is Marinette’s first big crush  so for the first few weeks marinette actually was really uncomfortable. she was having an internal battle of never feeling something like a crush before and also beating herself up over the idea that this might be a celebrity crush and she’s just a crazy fan

i saw this somewhere else but marinette doesn’t like horror movies not because they scare her but because they are underwhelming to her. mari and the gang will be having a movie night and she’ll just sit their with her arms crossed and say “I’ve seen worse.” and alya nino and adrien will just looked at her absolutely baffled. (even though adrien is chat noir, he’s had less exposure to scary things growing up)

adding onto that, marinette 100% had unrestricted internet access as a kid but she does not let it show

Marinette doodles on her skin in pen and one time she was drawing on her arm in red pen in class and an akuma related explosion happened really close. The pen exploded all over her skin and it looked like she had just killed someone.

marinette wanted to join the costume department for theater but because of her crammed schedule she can’t do it. everyone is confused as to why she doesn’t bc she’s perfect for it.

marinette matches the color of her hair ties to her outfit

marinette is better at listening to people in chinese then speaking or writing it

marinette actually gets along with her grandma really well and that’s why her grandma knew exactly what bike to get her

even though Marinette’s focus is in high fashion, she loves learning about streetwear and street fashion in places like Japan and the US

she is an absolute force to be reckoned with when she’s being stubborn about something 

she indulges in the confidence that being ladybug gives her from time to time so when chloe is back on her bs she claps back better than the last time

 a personal retcon is she gets a hold of her boy crazy-ness after the first few weeks. (the show really did her dirty on this like stalking? stealing? they should not be promoting that behavior to kids tbh)

marinette wears her new designs to school. she also secretly has a commission style business (so she can keep on top of orders bc she is just 1 person)

all and all, she is a little frazzled gremlin and i wish we got more of that blunt ,frazzled, always-busy, gremlin side of her

that’s all i can think of for now :)

[myloveforhergoeson]

hi! stealing @partiallypearl /@praetoravila 's lovely olive and writing a story about her and roxy becoming friends in a world where their boyfriends are professional hockey players instead of singers. born as the wag (wives and girlfriends) au in our dm's comes the completed (read: lightly edited...) product here! experimenting with some new friendship and relationship dynamics hehe <3 i hope you all enjoy. i love olive soooo much <3

--

blow me (one last kiss) ~ 6.5k

The Staples Center was utterly fucking freezing. 

No building should ever be allowed to be this cold, Olive thought, bundling into her thinly lined bomber jacket. Just scanning her ticket at the front gate and walking into the arena had been enough to make every hair on her body stand on end, and now, as she navigated the packed hallways to find the seating designated on her ticket, she was beginning to find the prospect of another few hours at this temperature nearly unbearable. 

Logan had warned her, over and over again, in the last few days to dress accordingly. It had taken many massages, offers to help her with carrying heavy things to and from work, cuddle sessions, and even a nudge from Wren for Olive to even entertain the idea of going to one of his games; His over-the-top attitude had her convinced that when he advised her to layer up, he’d been thoroughly overexaggerating. 

“Surly what I’m wearing won’t matter when I’m rubbing shoulders with the guy next to me,” She scoffed at his words, between bites of the lasagna Logan had spent so much time meticulously whipping up in the kitchen in his final, and ultimately successful, attempt to get her to agree to attend one of the Kings games. “If we’re packed in there like sardines - Sounds like so much fun by the way - I’ll be fine.”

He just smiled at her, brown eyes gleaming under the candlelight as if he were straight out of a stupid chick flick, “Ollie… You think I’d let you sit up in the nosebleeds?”

Taking another spoonful of lasagna, Olive stared down at her plate, hoping the low light hid the heat rising to the tops of her ears. 

The two of them had spent the rest of the night talking about the team’s upcoming schedule, planning out times they’d be able to connect while he was in town, how best to get a hold of each other when he was away… All things Olive had never considered before diving headfirst into a relationship with a professional athlete, but were now on her mind more than ever. Thankfully, he’d be in town for the next few days before jetting off to somewhere on the East Coast.

I’ll be sure to leave the time-zone calculations to him…

As she followed the signs pointing her to the marked section on the thick cut paper clutched between freezing hands, she took the descending staircase down, down, down to the very front of the row. The very front of the row which also happened to be the first row in the arena. 

Being a starting player on the team, she’d assumed he’d use a bit of sway to get her a good view, but certainly not one of the best ones in the house. 

Reserved: Olive Pasqualina read the sign draped over the padded chair Olive stood in front of, with a soft, warm-looking sweatshirt on the seat.

With a grumble, the girl swiped the paper sign and crumpled it in her hands, throwing it to the sticky arena floor at her feet, before scooping up the sweater and sitting down, balling it in her lap. 

Already, the material was warming up her fingertips, which she hardly noticed as she peered through the thick plexiglass in front of her at the wide expanse of playing field. To her left, the perfect view of where the Kings sat - if she wanted to stare at the back of Logan’s head for part of the game - and to her right the opposing team’s bench. In the center of her vision was the red line, with a spectacular view of the entire ice rink so she wouldn’t miss out on even a second of the action. 

Logan had truly gone all out for his girlfriend’s first Kings game. 

Messing with the sweatshirt in her hands again, Olive considered wearing it, but that would just prove that Logan had been right about her attire, so for now, she draped it over her legs to quell their bouncing as they tried to heat up the skin beneath her blue jeans. As far as she could tell, the Kings logo was embroidered onto the front of the purple fabric and Mitchell was written, big and bold, across the top of the back. 

He must have been crazy if he thought she’d wear such a thing… At least out in public. 

It would make her look like every other crazy fan girl in the stadium, toting their merch around, covered from head to toe in Kings gear like some kind of freaky uniform, not unlike the woman currently stepping around Olive’s seat to get to her own. 

From her Kings pom-pom beanie, to her logo patterned scarf, to her fleece jersey emblazoned with Diamond arching around her shoulders, she was sporting exactly the opposite look Olive wanted to embody. 

God, if they sold Kings thongs no doubt she’d be wearing one…

It wasn’t until the superfan waved in her direction and sat down right next to Olive in a reserved seat of her own labeled Songbird, that she realized this wasn’t just some puck bunny with a front-row season pass.

Logan mentioned a couple of weeks ago two of his best friends had gotten engaged, leading to an engagement party at one of the nicest restaurants in L.A., rented out by two people too enamored with each other to properly interact with the invitee list that Olive guessed stretched a mile long. He swore up and down he was one hundred percent on the list to be a groomsman, considering he and Logan had practically known each other since pre-school, and that James had just been waiting for the perfect time to ask him. 

When James and his fiancee had announced the ceremony would be taking place in the Amalfi Coast just as soon as the season was over, she’d nearly doubled over in laughter.

How any couple could just ask a large group of people to drop all their plans, commitments, jobs, whatever for a handful of days and fuck off to some beautiful coastal resort on the whole other side of the world to celebrate the two of them was beyond Olive; As if she wanted to spend her precious time off focused on anyone but herself and Logan. 

How selfish… Olive ruminated, allowing a side glance at the girl one more time to confirm that she was the girl attached to James’ hip at the restaurant. If her shining green eyes as she scanned the ice for her fiancee weren’t the first hint, the second would be the gigantic, glittering ruby slid around her ring finger. 

Just as Songbird sat down, the lights in the arena began to dim, and she shot up to her feet again, clapping and cheering her pretty little head off, like she was experiencing the most euphoric feeling in the world. 

And maybe, for a moment, Olive felt it too, pulling her eyes off her seatmate and up to the large jumbotron above them, playing a promotional video for the Kings before the game began. Pulling the sweatshirt tighter against her legs in anticipation, her heart skipped when a short clip of Logan hit the screen, and the fans in the arena lit up at the sight of their favorite player. She couldn’t help but take some pride in the fact his cheers seemed to be louder than most of the other players.

At least by sheer number. If it had been purely based on noise levels, Songbird might have had everyone beat when James’ segment rolled. 

Despite being a relatively new player to the Kings, traded over from the Minnesota Wild to play offense just two years ago, Logan had managed to solidify his place on the team quite quickly. Not only did he get along well with his teammates, but their play styles just seemed to click together in an unexplainable, yet effortless way. Maybe it had to do with the fact three of his childhood friends had eventually found their way to the Kings too, like James, in addition to the team goalie, Carlos, and captain, Kendall. 

“The odds of that happening are nearly a million to one,” He’d explained to her ages ago, cuddled up on the couch as they watched Make It or Break It. “But for it to happen with the four of us? All on one team?... If I weren’t a man of science, I’d almost call it divine intervention.”

In response, Olive just snorted. 

 The rink in front of her slowly filled with machine-made fog, video screen drawing eyes away from the playing field in the process, though she wouldn’t doubt for a second if it was just actually that cold in the building. A few moments later, all of the lights shut off except for a bright, white spotlight, illuminating the side of the arena the Kings emerged from, and the crowd lost it as the players came skating out into the rink, more lights following the players one by one.

A handful made their way directly to the bench, while others zoomed this way and that, gliding across the ice with so much force, yet so much control, it nearly astonished Olive. Of course, she jokingly poked fun at Logan a million times for his puck-in-net profession - “Practice is all day today? How hard can it actually be to score a goal?” - but had never seen him show off the culmination of his hard work. Skill and expertise he had been crafting since his Pee-Wee hockey league in Duluth, Minnesota.  

The SportsCenter highlights she’d looked up after he mentioned some particularly good games didn’t count. Not that she’d ever tell anyone she watched them anyway. 

When she spotted a flash of short brunette hair, stick in one hand and helmet in the other, and the mountain of black and purple padding covering his body, Olive didn’t even bother catching the sweatshirt before it fell to the ground. She was on her feet, slamming her hands together so hard they were sure to be bright red, the same color no doubt appearing on her cheeks.

Due to the bitter cold…

Kendall, James, and Carlos all came out with him, the four of them chattering about something as they made traversing over the slippery ice look as easy as walking. 

Like their teammates, Olive figured they’d either secure a spot on the bench or warm up around the rink, so she bent down to grab the piece of clothing off the ground. 

When she popped back up, to her surprise, two players were on the other side of the glass - Jesus Christ they’re fast - peering back at them. However, the taller of the two had his eyes laser-focused on the girl beside her, mouthing something Olive wasn’t able to decipher. A second later he and Songbird were all but making out across the barrier.

As her gaze shifted to Logan, the expression on his face was almost identical, though when their eyes met, Olive immediately looked to the floor. 

With a few taps on the glass with his hockey stick, he nabbed her attention again, mouthing, “I love you.”

She pretended not to notice the smile stretching across her face, matching the one cutting the most adorable dimples into his cheeks. Gripping the shirt in her hands, she replied, “Love you too, Mitchell. Good luck.”

It was a longer message, but she knew she got her point across when he nodded, eyes still never leaving her, as he moved to slide his helmet on. 

“Oh,” His mouth formed the shape, gloved hand pointing to her midsection. “Wear your jersey.”

Normally, she’d fight him. Tell him she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, that she wasn’t interested in being branded with his name for the entire world to see. But he was right, it was cold, and he’d gotten it special, just for her. Though the thought sparked some heat in her chest, it wasn’t enough to stop the shivers. 

“Okay,” Olive promised before he skated off, one more sidelong glance over his shoulder in her direction that made her heart leap into her throat. 

I will, she declared silently, just for you,

***

“That looks so good on you, Olive!”

A voice flittered down from the aisle and Olive looked up from her phone. The game had taken its first intermission; Neither the Kings nor the Knights had scored any points. 

“I needed to see it from the back to take it in… God, it fits like a glove!”

Two large popcorn bags bigger than her head obscured Olive’s view of Songbird’s face. How she managed to see the jersey on her back was beyond her. 

Before Olive could say anything in response, the other girl practically dropped one of the bags in her lap, and the usher trailing behind her gently placed a large can of Diet Coke in the cup holder of her seat. 

“Hey, woah-”

The fanatic hadn’t even mentioned she was going on a snack run, and Olive hadn’t mentioned she was hungry. Or that if she were, she was more than capable of getting up and getting things herself. 

“Thank you, Victor!” Songbird chirped, taking her seat and collecting the Bud Light from the usher’s other hand. “If I had more hands, I could’ve grabbed some Skittles, but alas…”

In response, the man smiled, “Always happy to help Mrs. Diamond.”

The squeal that left her mouth after he ascended back up the stairs almost broke Olive’s eardrum. “That flatterer! Oh, I can’t believe he just called me that… Can you have a heart attack if your heart beats too fast? Because I think I’m about to,” she twittered on before finally taking a handful of popcorn to her mouth. 

For a second, Olive reveled in the silence as the other girl chewed. She had many questions, but was worried asking them would set her up for a lengthy conversation for the rest of the game. Both of them were there to support their partners, not make silly idle chat. 

Taking note that Olive hadn’t touched either of the items she’d brought, Songbird stuck her lip out. “Remember when Logan pissed you off a few months ago and he sent you that big rose bouquet?”

“Excuse me?” 

A fire started in the pit of her gut, licking its way up her body. She clenched her hands into tight fists. What gives her the right-

“I told him it wasn’t enough; Took James’ Corvette, picked Logan up, and forced him into a Target to buy all of your favorite snacks. That little basket he dropped off at your door with the in-person apology was so much better.”

Silence hung in the air. Olive blinked, still trying to figure out where this conversation was going. Damn the crescent-shaped indents that may appear cutting into her palms later. 

“That’s how I know what you like,” She finished, reaching into her cup holder, taking her beer, and twisting off the cap. “So you can’t tell me you don’t.”

One breath in. One breath out. Olive slid her fingers inside the sleeves of the jersey and focused on the soft fleece inside, while the other girl nearly chugged her drink. 

Some days were easier to manage her IED than others.

“Right. Got it…” Slowly, the girl dared to reach for some of the salty popcorn, thinking of it as a strange kind of peace offering from this near stranger. “You stole his Corvette?”

Closing her black, glittered eyelids, Songbird nodded. “Would’ve been too much commotion if I drove up in my Rolls, don’t you think?” 

For a second, Olive almost felt bad she couldn’t remember her name. 

Overhead, the buzzer sounded, marking the start of the second period.

*** 

A particularly rough play landed Logan in the penalty box; Songbird shot to her feet, booing the referee and banging on the glass in front of her as though the call ruined her entire life. 

Is that what I’m supposed to be doing too? Olive wondered until her phone rang, vibrating over and over in her back pocket until she managed to grab it and take in the caller ID.

One of her young clients’ parents was attempting to get a hold of her, suggesting what would likely be a long conversation she didn’t want to have off the clock. However, if one of her clients was struggling to find a helpful coping strategy for their anger or anxiety, she couldn’t let them go through that alone. 

Over the years, Olive had been afforded much patience and grace by her loved ones as she learned her own effective techniques. This was her way of paying it forward. 

Quickly taking the call, she slid out of her seat and climbed the stairs to the main concourse, finding an exit stairwell with minimal people inside where she was better able to assess the situation and work it through with the individuals on the other line. 

It didn’t take long to talk her client through one of the meditative techniques they’d discussed in their last counseling session, though every once and a while the crowd outside would roar, and Olive feared it may carry through the line and distract from the calming environment she was trying to form with her words. Even though it was often a challenge to find effective strategies for each of her clients, and meditation certainly didn’t work for her, it was always interesting to see what led someone else to feel more in control of their emotions. 

With a promise to send over some more meditative techniques to the parent over email on Monday Olive made her way back to her seat… But not before Googling “James Diamond girlfriend” to put her mind at ease. 

For a moment, she considered following it up with “Logan Mitchell girlfriend” just to see what was out there about her and the hockey star, before remembering it would probably flood her eyes with images of actress Camille Roberts too. 

Ugh…

The moment she sat back down in her seat and took a long sip of her cool drink, her eyes immediately found Logan out of the box and skating on the ice again. 

“Did you get the box I sent you?” 

Olive did her breathing technique again, preparing for some more meaningless small talk with her seatmate. 

Cocking her head, she turned to the girl beside her, running one hand through her thick, black hair. “What?”

Immediately, Songbird’s lips pressed together tightly. “Never mind! Logan did well while you were away… Almost got a goal before the other guys swept it away. I’ll tell James he wasn’t show-boating enough as a distraction after the game… And he calls himself a center… ”

Any word after “never mind” flew in one of Olive’s ears and out the other, not bothering to make a home in the auditory processing center of her brain. She could handle a lot; a high-intensity job, a famous boyfriend, and entertaining the whims of the rich girl beside her, but one thing she still struggled greatly with were surprises. 

“Roxanne.” Olive cut, thankful for the excellent internet connection in the Staples Center. The girl beside her immediately stopped talking, brows raising, pom-pom beanie falling limp to the side. “Surprises… Make me anxious. So, again, what box?”

Carefully, Roxy ran a few purple-painted nails through the ends of her hair, revealing the #1 tattoo, James’ jersey number, behind her ear. “The… um…” Her eyes shifted to the rink and followed her fiancee for a few seconds too long before she turned back to Olive and took a deep breath. “The bridesmaid proposal box?”

Taking another sip of her soda was a bad idea; Olive almost choked on the sweet liquid the moment the words left Roxy’s mouth. 

“I’m so sorry - I didn’t know surprises weren’t okay! That’s completely my fault!” She apologized, holding her hands up in defense. For a moment, Olive thought she might grab her shoulders or something, but she refrained, looking her right in the eye as she continued to speak. “It’s full of a bunch of fun stuff I thought it would be fun to propose with; Monogrammed matching PJ’s, a nice bottle of rose, a cute mug… A bunch of other little goodies too! And I swear the card I wrote inside for you is far more articulate than my freaking-out speech right now.”

For a world-class songwriter and performer to struggle with her words, Olive found a slight hint of amusement amid her shock. “Don’t we… barely know each other?”

Roxy wrung her hands together, “Not really! And this seems super weird to you…? Oh, God, I’m sorry. James told me this come on too strong-”

“Screw what James said. You’re asking me to be part of the wedding party, not him.”

Wait… She was inviting it now? When did she stop choking and start smiling? What happened to destination weddings being a selfish, dick move?

Roxy’s eyes lit up again, shining as bright as the rock on her finger. “Right! I am! Because the wedding isn’t for months, we have so much time to get to know each other, and I want to be friends with you so badly… Like every time Logan mentions you, I swear you get cooler and cooler but I’ve been so busy with my band’s tour and everything… I practically begged him to put your seat right next to mine today.”

Shifting around on the cushioned chair, Olive clutched at her drink, using it like a lifeline as she let the writer’s words swirl around her head. Her chest inflated like a balloon.

Goddamn, she had to give Songbird some credit for laying all her cards out on the table.

“You’re crazy,” Olive remarked, and just as she finished the stadium broke out into such intense cheering, that the floor shook beneath their feet. The jumbotron above them played the same video over a few times; Kendall making the first slapshot into the Knight’s goal. “And I’ve never been to Italy before.”

Looking back over at the bride-to-be, the girl’s eyes were beginning to well over with happy tears. “Me neither. And honestly? Don’t tell anyone… but I’m terrified of the plane ride over.”

***

Olive also took back her thoughts about not being able to support Logan’s game and get to know Roxy at the same time. As the game rolled into the last period, the Kings and Knights were tied 1-1. 

At this point, the two of them had chatted and cheered until their throats were raw, pounded on the glass until their hands were bright red, and ate so much popcorn their stomachs were starting to ache… All-in-all, a day the counselor would look back on fondly.

She’d also get to brag to Logan she got the wedding party invitation first… Not that that mattered in the slightest…

Now, all everyone was waiting for was the first team to make the next goal. Whoever scored first would ultimately end up being the winner of the game as the clock ticked closer and closer to zero. Neither the Knights nor the Kings were letting up. Logan and James had been slammed into the boards more times than Olive could count, Carlos had blocked at least 7 shots, and Kendall was doing his best to chart out which plays the team should chance in their last few minutes. 

The Kings had even used their time-out, trying to regroup as best they could before play resumed again. In the blink of an eye, Logan was on the left side of the field, then the right, speeding down right in front of her, lining up to take a wide-open shot-

Until the same Knights player that had been tailing him all night, the one his teammate had been supposed to guard slipped by, ramming into Logan’s side at what looked like full speed just before his stick hit the puck. 

Pads crunched. Roxy let out a frustrated scream. Olive felt her stomach hit the floor just as Logan collided with the ice, bouncing back up slightly from the sheer impact of it all. 

It took him a few seconds longer than normal to recover, and get back up on his feet as quickly as he could, but not before slinging an arm around his ribs, tilting his covered head back in what his girlfriend could only assume was a wince in pain. His fists clenched, the same way Olive’s did when she felt an intense bout of anger bloom within. 

To see how the people in her life processed their emotions was interesting; Typically Wren and Logan went about it the same way. Taking a step back, deep breaths, and evaluating the situation from an analytical standpoint. Is this worth my time and frustration? Is there a better course of action?

When Olive was younger, she was more of an act-first, think-later kind of girl. Her temper ruled her life. Landed her in juvie, and earned her a less than pleasant new adornment around her ankle. 

Though things were different for her now, that didn’t make her IED any less of a factor in her daily life. Logan had seen her through numerous incidents and was always by her side to make sure he was able to help whenever she asked.

So, when he finally caught his bearings, he skated over to where the puck was in play, shoved off his stick and gloves, before throwing a tremendous right hook right into his aggressor's jaw. All of the air left Olive’s lungs. 

She was too far away to hear any words being exchanged, but as if they could sense it, the other players immediately cleared the surrounding area as Logan’s opponent, Heinrich, recoiled from his attack, dropping his own stick and gloves in return before reaching out a hand and balling it into the Kings player’s jersey, throwing a punch of his own. 

The glass in front of her rattled, probably from her new friend at the rate she was yelling, and the arena slowly filled with a mixed chorus of reactions. Some screaming for Logan, others rooting for the Knight’s player, while a few just let out their own whoops as their thirst for violence was quenched. 

And she just stared at him, jaw hanging half open as she watched her seemingly mild-mannered boyfriend lay into a man almost half a foot taller than he was. Each graceful arc of his fist as he reared back and slammed it into Heinrich’s body had an effect on her, lighting a fire under her so quickly that she jumped to her feet as well, joining Roxy at the glass shouting her own, “You better kick his ass, Mitchell!”

By the time the referees pulled the two off of each other, they were bloody, beaten messes, and maybe Olive was slightly biased, but she was pretty sure Logan was being dragged away the victor. Her cheeks were on fire, her chest so warm as she crossed her arms across her body.

God, he’s hot.

Forget bragging about the wedding invitation, she was almost ready to climb over the barrier separating them and jump his bones in front of the entire Staples Center. 

She couldn’t keep her eyes off of him, watching with eyebrows glued to her forehead as he spat out a mouthful of dark red blood against the blindingly white ice in Heinrich’s direction. Still unable to hear, she watched the Knight’s defenceman shout something in Logan’s direction and he struggled against the referee again. 

Practically foaming at the mouth, Logan’s response could be read across his lips for miles and miles. “Not in front of my girl.”

Olive had to cling to Roxy’s arm to stay standing after that, heart hammering against her rib cage louder than her newfound friend rattled against the glass partition. 

Now clinging to her equally as tight, the musician let out a loud wolf whistle as both Logan and Heinrich were sent to the penalty box for their little showdown. “I wonder how much of a fine that’ll rack up…”

A fine? Olive wondered, taking into account how much of a penny pincher her boyfriend tended to be. Now, his getting into the fight was all the more enchanting, considering his professional reputation and finances were on the line. Silently, she chastised herself for being so into his aggression, before a moment later Roxy sighed and complained James would never get into fights because he was “too pretty.”

Ah… She gets it.

As both players skated off to the bench for what was likely the remainder of the game, Logan diverted his path there to skate by where the two girls stood, gear tangled up in his arms as he did his best to quickly put his gloves back on. 

From where they stood, mere inches separating her and her boyfriend, Olive could already see the damage to his handsome face splotching in dark purples and blues across his jaw and cheeks, maybe even one of his eyes. The worst though, was the blood running down his bottom lip from where Heinrich had thrown a punch hard enough to split it open, hence all the blood the hockey player was leaving on the ice. 

Tapping his stick on the glass, just because he could, not because he was trying to gain her attention, Logan just grinned and looked at his girlfriend, a bright smile forming on his face and showing off all the blood between his teeth and mouthguard. 

“Hey, Ollie,” he mouthed, still too much noise in the stadium to properly hear each other. The King's fans behind her started going crazy, trying to lean down into the space she was standing to get his attention, but he paid them no mind, just staring at Olive as though she were the only thing in the world. 

And she felt like the only thing in his world too, even as he raised a gloved hand to wipe some of the blood pouring down his chin. No doubt, when he took his gloves off later, she’d pull his hands into hers, and study the bruises blooming across his knuckles, looking for the splitting skin symbolizing the scuffle he’d been in. “Red’s not your color,” she mouthed back. 

“I know-” Reply cut short by the blowing of the ref’s whistle, Logan glanced over his shoulder to see the black and white striped man gesturing toward the penalty box. He was more than overstaying his welcome. Gently, he took one of his fingers and tapped it against his lip, leaning into the glass between them. “Kiss it better?” 

Out of her peripherals, she noticed the video on the jumbotron above them change. Now, she and Logan were the only ones in the frame, showing their interaction to the entire stadium. 

When did Roxy let go of me… And when did she pull her phone out to film?

The ref sounded his whistle again but Logan didn’t move. 

Olive shook her head, glancing from side to side and noticing everyone in their section looking her way. “Later.” 

“Now,” her boyfriend demanded, eyes narrowing, losing the boyish sparkle they normally held. 

At this point, Olive placed her hands on her hips, cocking one to the side as she spat back, “Box. Now. Or I’m going to shove my foot so far up-”

Two referees were heading in Logan’s direction now. The both of them were holding up the entire game at this point, and they both knew it, too lost in their exchange to care.

“I’m not moving.”

“Too many people watching.”

“Since when do you care?”

Balking, Olive realized the referees were almost at his sides, ready to haul them apart from each other before she could make up her mind. “You owe me.”

Hesitantly, the girl finally leaned in to meet him, pressing her lips up against the glass right where the corner of his lip was waiting on the other side. The glossy shimmer she had applied before the game was left in her wake, and Logan grinned like an idiot again. Still so much blood in his mouth. “Whatever you want, baby girl.”

By then, he’d happily followed the refs over to where he needed to be, and Olive just fell back into her seat as though she were in some sort of silly love trance. Logan Mitchell had just cast some sort of spell over her, one she’d certainly have to learn by rewatching the video Roxy was still taking on her phone over, and over, and over again.

***

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? We have to set up a date to go shopping together,” Roxy cooed, rubbing her hands together in the tunnels leading toward the King’s locker rooms. 

They had barely won the game after Logan’s little stunt. James and one of the other players Olive wasn’t familiar with had run one of Kendall’s well-designed plays to fake their opponents out, feigning shooting the puck to the left when they’d sent it halfway down the arena to the right. The counselor thought her eardrum might shatter at Roxy’s racket when James scored the goal, and now, the girl was literally bouncing on her heels as her eyes kept darting between the door and her new friend. 

“Right… Maybe dinner would work better instead?” Olive suggested, trying to divert their time getting to know each other into something they’d both enjoy.

James opened the door to the locker room, laughing at something Carlos said as they exited together, carrying his gear duffel and stick and Roxy’s attention was immediately lost. “Yeah… Sure… Absolutely…”

As if the center could sense the slightest shift in the energy of the tunnel, he turned his head in her direction and Carlos rolled his eyes.

Olive tried not to let out a snort as the goalie raised a finger to his temple, swirling it in a circle and crossing his eyes in an attempt to make her laugh as the two practically ran to meet each other halfway. His message was clear: These two are nuts!

Of all the things she had learned that evening, that fact was certainly true, especially when Roxy launched herself into his outstretched arms, bag and stick now clattering to the floor as she wrapped herself around him, squealing this and that about his game winning shot. For all of two seconds, it was a nice, wholesome scene, until James started to murmur something in her ear about her dark leggings, hands creeping down her back. “Sick of the black… I need to see you in white as soon as possible, songbird…”

Roxy didn’t waste any time rushing him out of the arena as soon as possible, leaving Olive and a few other family members straggling in the tunnel as they waited for their player to emerge from the locker room.

After a lengthy session of stalking her new friend’s ScuttleButter, the girl hadn’t even noticed the time had passed until she looked up, half an hour after the game ended, and she was the only one left in the long corridor. 

It would’ve been easy to just call him and ask where he was, but Olive knew better than to rush her meticulous, clinical partner. No doubt his after game decompressing was just as important as his quiet time before driving to the stadium or his lengthy at home stretching routine before his long days at practice. Lord forgive anyone who got in the way of him and his rituals. 

Her phone battery was nearly on the verge of dying when she got a notification from ESPN - Maybe she had an alert tone set for every time the topic”‘Logan Mitchell” trended, sue her - and one hundred different angles of the fight he and Heinrich got into earlier in the night flooded her vision. The clips should have made her gut wrench, but instead they made her stomach somersault, thinking of his final words to his opponent.

Not in front of my girl…

She sighed, audibly, like a schoolgirl laying on her bed, kicking her feet and giggling as she talked to her friends about her crush. 

“What’s that for?” Someone asked, and Olive nearly jumped out of her skin despite recognizing her boyfriend’s comforting voice almost immediately. Standing, leaning against the locker room door, his arms were crossed, gear set against the wall beside him, just watching her scroll through the clips. 

“Mitchell,” She chastised, poorly attempting to cover up her surprise and she locked her phone and placed it in her back pocket, slowly making her way toward him. The dim light in the tunnel was doing well to disguise the remnants of the fight on his face. “What did we say about surprises, jerk?” 

“Only to do it when I feel like messing with you?”

Immediately, she threw a punch to his shoulder, almost instantly regretting it as he let out a breath of pain, hand flying to cover the area she’d hit. “Jesus, you sure didn’t pull that one…”

Olive didn’t apologize, instead, she reached up to cup his face with both of her hands, feeling his cold cheeks against her warm fingertips, and pulled him into the kiss he’d requested ages ago. 

“You can take it, big boy. No matter how much you whine, I'm not playing doctor when we get home…”

Face falling in mock disappointment, he rolled his hurt arm before slinging it around her shoulders, picking his things up in the other hand and beginning to lead her out of the corridor. “Not even after my first pro-league fight?”

“Not after you embarrassed me in front of the entire Staples Center,” she shot back, leaning into his touch. “The video Roxy sent me of your stupid little stunt makes me want to beat you up too.”

His eyes lit up, “She got it on video? Ollie, you need to send it to me.”

“As if,” She scoffed in return, pulling her phone back out and feigning disinterest in continuing their conversation. “I’m too busy researching flights to Italy to do anything else.”

Brows knitting, the cool Los Angeles winter air hit the two of them as they made it out into the player’s reserved parking lot. “Italy…?”

Olive nodded, counting back from three in her mind until he froze, letting his hockey stick clatter to the black asphalt below. “She asked you? Before James asked me? God I’m going to wring his neck-”

“Easy, killer…” His girlfriend attempted to soothe, though she couldn’t bite back her smile as she teased, “Save that for when I’m living my Mamma Mia! dreams and you’re stuck here twiddling your thumbs.”

Cheeks crinkling, he sputtered out a whole bunch of nonsense as they climbed into the front and passenger seats of his sleek, silver BMW. All she caught was, “Three dudes… Wedding… Kill…” before she burst out into laughter and they drove off into the night, bruised hand in hand.

[ambrossart]

I’ve worked out a new writing schedule

After a little talk with my husband, we have finally come to a mutual agreement and understanding. On weeknights, I get two hours of uninterrupted writing time and, unless we’ve already made alternative plans, weekend mornings/afternoons are reserved solely for writing. We even went out and bought a little sign for my door so that he knows I’m busy. 😂

Honestly, it’s been a bit of a struggle getting my husband to understand my need for privacy while writing. In the past, he would pop in every fifteen minutes to hang out and see what I’m up to, and that was so disruptive to my writing process. My husband didn't get that. I still don’t think he fully “gets” it, but he’s gonna try his best to be more respectful, which all I can ask for.

With that being said, the new chapter of Paper Men is coming along. I’m not as far along as I would like, but I am putting words on the page. Right now, I’m fighting a losing battle against anxiety and perfectionism, so I’m offering myself a compromise/challenge: I will give myself until Wednesday and whatever I have, regardless of the length, regardless of the quality, is getting published. It may be short. It may be boring. Hell, it may be absolute GARBAGE and not even make the final cut. But it’s gonna get published here, as is.

Oh my god, just thinking about that scares the crap out of me. Like, it’s actually making me physically ill. But I wanna do it. I desperately want to get out of this toxic mindset that every draft needs to be as polished and perfect as the final draft. It’s a major hindrance to my writing. How can I expect to move forward when I’m constantly going backwards?

So far, nothing has helped me break free of this. I’ve tried special drafting devices that discourage editing. I’ve tried apps. I’ve tried scheduled writing sprints. Nothing has worked.

So maybe this is the solution. Maybe I need to force myself out of my comfort zone and let people read a truly rough draft.

We’ll give it a shot and see what happens.

[waytooinvested]

Forgotten, Not Forgiven - Chapter 17

This and previous chapters are also on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was about 20 minutes before the scheduled dream session was due to start, and Lena was at Kara’s door with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a box of carefully selected artisanal cupcakes in the other.

She felt strangely nervous as she juggled her items to knock, though it was hard to pinpoint exactly why.

...Well, alright, she knew why.

Her surprise was objectively good news, and Kara would probably be pleased… but Lena had also meddled after being explicitly asked not to, and from how James had reacted when she had done something similar during their brief, ill-fated time together, she knew exactly how badly that could go. It had cut her to the quick to hear James tell her he wanted no part of the kind of love Lena had to offer, but that would be a mere pinch of pain compared to how a similar rejection would feel coming from Kara.

It was why she’d brought the cupcakes. Much as she knew that she couldn’t expect to buy forgiveness with sweets, gifts of food meant more to Kara than the fleeting enjoyment of flavour and fullness. They were how she expressed care for her friends – a way for her to share a part of herself without having to explain or disclose more than she was able to about herself. It was a way to offer comfort she had no words for, a shared experience, time together, love, and Lena hoped that her own offering would be taken the same way, and might just help to soften Kara’s anger if the reveal didn’t go as she hoped it would.

She also had good reason to feel a bit hyped up about the coming dream work, which was still well outside of her usual comfort zone even after all her research, and could theoretically crack the whole case open to bring Kara’s memories back before the end of the evening.

That was huge.

Nia seemed to think it was unlikely on the first attempt, but still, it was potentially huge.

No, the thing she couldn’t quite get to grips with was why those two big, legitimate things were not the main reason she felt anxious. Because if she was really honest with herself, the nerves were mostly to do with the fact that this was the first time she had seen Kara properly since opening up to Alex about her feelings, and while nothing had materially changed as a result of that conversation... everything had changed.

Lena could no longer pretend that she was faking their connection for the sake of Project Atlantis, or that things would just slot neatly back to the way they had been before once Supergirl was restored. Her feelings were out there now. She had said the words ‘I love Kara’ to another person, and Alex had responded with absolute certainty that Kara felt the same way.

The way she talks about you, and the amount she talks about you, is on another level.

It wasn’t so far off what Nia had told her the day she had come out to Kara, or what Lena herself had felt from her over the past months, in spite of the confusing mixed signals when it came to physical contact.

And then of course there was-

I’ve got you sweetheart.

Did other friends call each other sweetheart platonically? Kara never had before, but Lena supposed that it might be more to do with the fact that she had been actively hyperventilating at the time than an indicator of feelings.

Either way, the memory of how the word sounded, directed at her and in Kara’s voice, made her feel soft and boneless and a little bit like she might start hyperventilating again.

She was going to have to be so careful not to let this get out of hand, and if Lena was a wiser woman with more self control, she would have skipped the red lipstick tonight. Instead she had spent a good ten minutes picking out just the right shade, and put extra effort into ensuring her hair fell in a perfect glossy waterfall against shoulders left bare by her low neckline. At the time she hadn’t acknowledged to herself why she was doing it – Lena always took care over her appearance, that was hardly anything out of the ordinary, but even as she denied it to herself she knew there was more to this particular outfit than merely looking suitably put together. Alex had told her that Kara talked about her like a crush, that she was “about as straight as a curly fry”, and that she thought Lena was pretty… and even though she absolutely couldn’t do anything about any of that now, a stubborn, foolish part of her still needed to know for sure if it was true.

She wanted to see Kara seeing her like this – wanted the confirmation of her quick glance down at the exposed skin of her chest before she looked determinedly back up to meet Lena’s eyes.

She was just torturing herself at this point (and maybe Kara too, if Alex was right), but she told herself that it would just be this once. After tonight she would switch to sensible necklines, pants or skirts at knee length or below, and maybe even some less vivid shades of lipstick, though she would miss the armour of her deep red in the boardroom.

Swallowing down her lingering doubts Lena rapped quickly on the door, only for it to be pulled open almost before her knuckles left the painted wood to reveal Kara on the other side.

And there it was: the flicker. A quick swallow. The slightest blush of pink creeping into her cheeks.

Then she beamed.

And fuck, apparently Lena should have spent more time worrying about her own reactions than any she might be evoking. She had been tamping down her raw attraction to Kara pretty successfully up until now, but somehow the verbal acknowledgement of its existence seemed to have brought it roaring to the surface, and Lena felt heat rushing inconveniently to parts of herself that she really shouldn’t be thinking about right now. But how could she help herself? Kara smiled like sunshine, like seeing Lena unexpectedly had made her entire year, and the genuine warmth of that look combined with how casually handsome she was in her dark blue button down with the sleeves pushed up to show off her toned arms sent Lena into a tailspin, butterflies erupting in her stomach as if she was an inexperienced teenager with her first crush.

There was a second or two where they just stared at each other, caught up in a moment that they were both unwilling to acknowledge. Then Kara seemed to remember herself and pulled the door open properly, stepping back further than was strictly necessary to let Lena follow her inside.

‘Lena, hey! You look incredible, what’s the occasion? Do you- um’ she swallowed again in a way that looked almost painful, but didn’t let her smile drop ‘do you have a date tonight or something?’

Shit. Clearly she really had overdone it on the outfit if that was the most logical assumption. It was embarrassing, but the hint of jealousy in the question and the fact that Kara was so clearly fighting with herself to maintain eye contact rather than allowing her gaze to wander lower was too affirming for Lena to entirely regret her faux pas. Just this once. For science. It didn’t mean she was breaking her promise.

‘No, nothing like that.'

Lena dismissed the suggestion with a deliberately casual wave of her hand, as if she didn't care one way or the other about dating (as if every part of her mind not currently focusing on either L-Corp or Atlantis wasn't entirely absorbed by how much she did not have a date).

'I actually just had this strange premonition that we would have cause for celebration tonight. That you might have had... good news?’

‘Huh. As it happens, I did get a pretty interesting email from HR today.’

Lena tried to get a read on whether Kara was happy about this or not, but although there seemed to be a measure of relief in her tone, it was too neutral to be really sure how she was feeling, and the way she was standing meant that her glasses were catching the reflected light from a nearby lamp so that it was impossible to decipher what emotion might be behind them.

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. Apparently the three year contracts Andrea moved us all onto to when she took over have been declared invalid, and now we’re going to get a chance to re-negotiate.’

It had really worked.

‘Kara, that’s fantastic! Now you’ll have some real leverage to get back to the sort of journalism you want to be doing, not to mention a hefty pay rise. And if Andrea won’t agree, you’ll be free to go somewhere you’ll be appreciated without the non-compete clause holding you back. It’s wonderful!’

‘It is. It seemed like a total miracle when I found out, like fate had intervened... But now you’re here on the very same day, looking like that and holding champagne, so I do have to ask… you didn’t happen to talk to Andrea after all did you?’

‘What? Of course not. You asked me not to, so I absolutely did not talk to Andrea.’

Technically true. But Kara pursed her lips sceptically and peered over the rim of her glasses as if that would let her see through the half-truth to what was hidden behind it, and even though Lena knew that she had no access to her x-ray vision right now, the look made her feel uncomfortably exposed.

‘So what did you do?’

‘Well… I might just have had my lawyers look over your contract, and they were able to make the case that as the terms were significantly changed from those you agreed to when you first joined Catco and you hadn’t been given the opportunity to agree or not to the non compete, the contract was non-binding until you had had the chance to negotiate properly…’

The explanation trailed off into a silence that seemed interminable as Kara stared at Lena and Lena dropped her eyes to the champagne in her hands – too cowardly, at the last, to look up and risk seeing the same look of disdain that James had pinned her with after a similar confession. This had always been a risk, and Lena had known from the moment she set the wheels in motion to get to this point that the conversation could tip one of two ways, but after their climbing misadventure and all that had followed she hadn’t been able to bear leaving things at Catco the way they were any longer.

Her options had been limited: Andrea wasn’t looking to sell so she couldn’t just buy the company back and undo all the changes that had been made under her leadership, even if she wanted to (and honestly, it wouldn’t have been a good idea even if she could. Having the power to so easily ruin Kara’s working life if she got cross with her was not something Lena ever wanted again, even if right now she couldn’t imagine being tempted to misuse it that way. Besides, her heart wasn’t really in the media business the way it should have been for the company to thrive, especially without Sam to keep things running smoothly at L-Corp in her absence). Still, she had had to at least try to moderate the impact of her earlier rashness. Kara didn’t deserve to spend her days miserable and unfulfilled.

She just didn’t.

‘Are you angry with me for interfering?’

She just had time to imagine the resounding unspoken YES and wish that she had played out this whole scenario differently, before Kara collided with her in a tight hug that almost toppled them both.

‘Thank you Lena. I know I said I didn’t want you to fight my battles for me, but I had no idea you would be able to do something like this. It’s just… amazing. This is going to change everything at Catco, for all of us, not just me. Thank you so much.’

Oh.

Lena felt the tension drain out of her muscles as her fears unravelled in Kara’s embrace. Her cheek rested comfortably in the cradle between Kara’s neck and shoulder, and warm breath ghosted over the bare skin of her upper back as she was pulled in so close that it would have been impossible to slide so much as a sigh between their bodies. It felt so incredibly, profoundly right that for the few seconds it lasted there was no room in her mind for doubts or worries about the future, there was just an absolute, blissful certainty of being exactly where she belonged.

But crushing as it was the hug was all too brief, and the zip of electricity that surged along every nerve ending with the first brush of contact had barely given way to the deep relief of being held before Kara was stepping back again, rubbing the back of her neck bashfully as she put the accustomed buffer of space back between them. It was as it should be, as she had promised it must be, but even so, each time they temporarily breached this barrier it became harder to bear when it slammed back into place. Lena ignored the desperate, needy part of herself that wanted to step back into Kara’s space and beg her not to stop holding her yet, please, please, and instead forced herself to use her words like a reasonable adult.

‘It was the least I could do, and I should have done it a long time ago. After all, I’m the one that didn’t adequately safeguard staff terms at the point of sale. I’m truly sorry for that Kara.’

It was the closest she dared come to a confession and apology for what she had actually done at Catco, and she knew it wasn’t enough. If Kara knew the full story she wouldn’t be waving it off as just an insignificant ‘one of those things’ the way she was now. If Kara knew the full story... But Lena needed to still be here for the dream session, and if they fought and Kara sent her away now she wouldn’t be able to do that.

At least, that’s what she told the voice in her head that was pointing out the hypocrisy of her keeping this secret for exactly the same reason that Kara had kept up her lie about Supergirl. She couldn’t lose Kara again. Not now. Not when she had just dared to accept that she wanted her back for real (or at least wanted to try…).

The voice laughed and it sounded like her mother, telling her she was a fool to think she could ever truly give or receive absolution for everything they had done to each other, but Lena ignored it. She was good at ignoring the voice. All she had to do was cram it down into its little box at the back of her mind, and then she could do what needed to be done until the next time it found a way to break free.

It was fine. Lena had plenty more boxes.

She followed Kara to the kitchen and watched her root around in a cupboard.

‘I used to have some proper champagne flutes somewhere, I’m sure I did… I’ve found one. Hm. I might have broken the others.’

‘It doesn’t matter Kara, just use ordinary wine glasses.’

‘I know, but I hardly ever have champagne, it wouldn’t feel- ah hah!’

Kara emerged triumphantly with two more flutes in her hands.

‘One of them has a dead spider at the bottom, but I’ll give it a wash and it’ll be fine. Is it okay if we wait a few minutes to open it? Nia’s coming round soon and it would be nice to include her, since it will affect her contract too... Do you mind?’

‘Of course not, it’ll be lovely to see Nia again. Besides, someone’s going to need to help eat all these cupcakes – there are too many here for two people.’

‘Psh, you are forgetting that one of the two people is me. But yeah, we should probably share those too.’

Once all traces of dust and spider corpses had been thoroughly washed from the glasses, Kara and Lena drifted back to the living room while they waited for Nia to arrive.

Lena caught Kara glancing again at her exposed collar bones before settling onto the couch with a cautiously wide space between them, and she felt both pleased and slightly chagrined about her choice to wear this shirt.

‘So… how’s the rock climbing going? Have you been again since we went?’

Kara’s eyes lit up immediately.

‘Twice! It’s so much fun, though I’m going to have to start rationing it a bit unless I really can negotiate a pay rise as part of my new contract... Actually, I managed to convince Andrea to let me do this article about extreme sports this week. It was total fluff – a ‘what happens when awkward city journalist goes paragliding’ sort of thing, but she loved it, and I got to go on company time and at company expense.’

She paused, looking guilty.

‘I know it was wrong of me to do, but I didn’t make Andrea say yes, and before I had this opportunity to renegotiate my contract I thought it might be the best compromise I was going to get to feel happy at work while still giving her what she wanted. Anyway. I went yesterday, and… it was incredible. So much better than the climbing. Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to come with me, but I do wish you could feel what I feel when I’m up there. It’s just- God, Lena, it’s the most amazing feeling in the world. To fly... It’s like… somehow I was more me up there than I can ever remember being at any time in my life. Like there’s a hollow place inside me and this almost filled it, just for a little while.’

Kara’s expression was such a poignant mix of joyful recollection and soul deep yearning that it made Lena’s throat tighten. She might not realise consciously what was missing, but Kara’s stolen history was still in there somewhere, buried but no less deeply felt for that. Most of the time she did such a good job of presenting her brightest self to the world – sweet and goofy and habitually generous to everyone around her – that it was easy to overlook moments like this one, when it was possible to glimpse a raw edge of the pain that hid behind her sunny demeanour. It only ever lasted a second or two, there and then gone again in a blink as Kara rushed off to buy churros from a street vendor, or pointed out a puppy dragging a stick three times as long as itself, or subtly diverted attention away from herself and onto whatever was going on in the lives of her friends. She made it easy to believe that the bubbly cheeriness was all there was, and what had come before must have been nothing more than a trick of the light.

It wasn’t though. The pain was all too real, and Lena blinked against the well of tears brought on by this unexpected acknowledgement of it at a moment when her emotions were already wound so tightly. Kara must have caught the shine in her eyes, because she stopped speaking to give her a quizzical look, brows drawing together and expression clouding into concern at Lena’s incongruous reaction to her apparently innocuous story.

‘Hey... are you crying?’

Fuck.

‘No, of course not! I’m just-I’m just really glad that you’ve found something that makes you so happy.’

Kara gave her a nudge, a teasing smile playing about her lips as she thankfully accepted the feeble excuse.

‘Awww, Lena! Who knew you were such a marshmallow!’

She sniffed, smiling and matching her tone to Kara’s when what she really wanted to do was to pull her into a hug and tell her- tell her- But what could she tell her? Nothing, except:

‘Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone. As far as the rest of the world knows I am an espresso bean dipped in dark chocolate.’

‘Your secret is safe with me.’

Kara mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key, and Lena chuckled along with the joke, doing her best to pull back from the unintended emotional blip at the same time. It never used to be difficult to put out into the world only what she wanted it to see, but now she seemed to be getting weepy every other day – at least when Kara was around.

Lena was not behaving like a Luthor, and the realisation of just how far she had strayed felt... strange. Liberating, but also uncomfortable. Tears aside, the fact that she was actually considering (more than considering, if she was entirely honest with herself) forgiving Kara after what she’d done would have had her mother adopting That tone, and although intellectually Lena knew that being someone Lilian might approve of would not be a good thing, she couldn’t entirely suppress her instinctive flinch of shame as she imagined her looking down on the perceived show of weakness with disdain in her eyes.

Well, it was none of her business anymore. If Lena wanted Supergirl back in her life, that was no one’s choice but her own. Hers and Kara’s.

She banished the whole confusing mix into another box and sealed it up tight.

Better.

‘So, will you be going again?’

‘Maybe for my birthday. It’s not an ‘every-weekend’ kind of expense, but yeah, I’d love to some time. I have actually been wondering about things I could do for free that might feel similar. I thought maybe I could start abseiling down from my apartment instead of taking the stairs to work in the morning.’

Lena raised an eyebrow.

‘You had better be joking.’

‘Well, I know I’d have to get some proper equipment first, and maybe I couldn’t actually go from my window, but I could probably go down from the roof, as long as I picked a spot that didn’t go past anyone’s windows.’

‘Kara, you can’t just decide to start abseiling without proper training, proper equipment, and supervision from someone qualified to make sure you don’t make a mistake and kill yourself. Please promise me you won’t do that.’

‘I’d be safe about it, it’s not like I’d just tie a bit of yarn around my waist and jump…’

‘You think you’d be safe, but you don’t know anything about abseiling, not really. What if something went wrong and there was no one around to help you? What if-’

They were interrupted by a light knock on the door, and Kara leapt up to answer it, looking relieved to have an out from the direction their conversation had taken.

Lena refused to let her get away that easily however, and put out an arm to bar her way.

‘Wait. Kara, promise me that you won’t try abseiling on your own. At least not until we’ve done some proper, in depth research about how to do it in a way that is both safe and legal.’

Kara hesitated, then sighed.

‘Alright, just because it’s you... I promise.’