#it's been a really long six months since we last talked and even longer since we probably chatted

[yellowbrokenblue]

„Just… Pretend.”

summary: in which harry convinces you to spend your summer in cape cod with his parents as his ‘girlfriend.’ but everything is just pretend, your not actually his girlfriend and you never have wanted to be his girlfriend, you’ve never seen him as more than harry styles, the singer… but by the end of the summer will that change?

tropes (so far) : fake dating

part one

“It’s just for one weekend.” He pleaded, “Then you can go back to hating me. You never even have to talk to me again, I don’t care.”

You sigh, your head falling backwards with a groan. You did not want to do this at all, but he’d been persistently asking you for days.

“C’mon, please?”

You roll your eyes, “You’re on a date with a new girl every week, I’m sure any of them would be up for it.”

“I can’t just take anyone to my parent’s place.”

“Why not? Or how about you just tell them you’re not seeing anyone right now? They won’t care.”

“I just need you to come, alright? I’ll owe you one, I promise.”

“Why me? There’s a million other people you could take, besides I’ve already met your parents at a show, they’ll never believe we’re seeing each other.”

“And they really liked you!”

“There’ll be a ton of other people that they like too, Harry. Choose anyone else.”

“I can’t.” He sighs.

“You can.”

“I can’t.” He repeats.

You look at him with tired eyes, awaiting his explanation. You’d been over this a hundred times, you had no interest in pretending to be his girlfriend while he visited his parents over the summer.

“I already told them we’re together.” He says quietly, avoiding eye contact.

“What?” You scoff, “You’ve gotta be joking.”

“They just… They met you at the show, and they really did seem to like you, and they kept going on and on about how they want me to find someone who makes me happy and stuff and I shut them up by saying we’re together…”

“You’re unbelievable.” You say, annoyed.!

The fact he’d been telling his parents ridiculous lies without even telling you about it, when said lies actually involved you had pissed you off.

Harry’s parents were lovely, and a producer on his latest album you’d met them a couple times at shows- Especially during the LA residence where you and his parents sat through the concerts in a VIP booth. His mum was lovely, always smiling and knew every single lyric. She told you that she was in Harry’s 0.5% of top listeners on Spotify last year.

You thought that was cute.


You couldn’t relate though, 5 Seconds of Summer were your top Spotify artist- Harry could never find out about that.

“They’ve been asking for me to take you to the beach house for months-“

“Months?!” You interrupt, “How long have you been telling them we’re together?”

He shrugged, “Since the end of the Forum residency?”

“Harry that was SIX months ago!” You yell, “I can’t pretend to be in a six month relationship with you, that’s ridiculous.”

He sits down on the couch, hugging a pillow.

“Yes you can. You practically know everything about me already. We spent every day of the tour together.”

“Everything about you in a career aspect.”

“Everything in general.” Harry corrects, “Sometimes I think you know more about me than I do.”

“I don’t. You’re just saying this because you’re convincing yourself that this ridiculous idea will actually work.”

“Name my first pet.”

“What?” You question. He was being stupid. There is no way you’d ever be able to spend two weeks with his parents over the summer, it was never going to work. It was a recipe for disaster.

“C’mon. You know the answer.”

He just kept staring at you. He wasn’t giving up. The longer you stayed silent the more intense his stare got. When he began to raise his eyebrows you’d given up.

“Max.” You mutter quietly, unimpressed with this whole game he was playing.

“And what am I allergic to?”

“Marshmallows, but you eat them anyway.”

Harry was grinning, and it was pissing you off. He was winning and he knew it.

“My favourite Christmas song?”

You rolled your eyes, “Christmas lights by Coldplay, but you tell everyone that it’s Merry Christmas Everyone because it’s a classic.”

Harry was giving you a ‘I told you so’ look. He wasn’t going to quit until you agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend.

You sigh softly, “Even if I agree to this… It could he really damaging for my career.”

“No one will find out.” His face was more serious now, and you could tell from the way he was looking at you that he meant it, “I’ll make sure of that.”

“But if if does-”

“It won’t.”

“But if it does, because there’s always a chance no matter what you think, then everyone will only think I got hired to tour manage because we’re ‘sleeping together.’” You say, using air quotes, just to further elaborate that this was all fake.

Harry had already got his grammy, he was at the peak of his career he’d be fine no matter what happened. But you were a female music producer in a male dominated industry, if people think you were only hired for this album because you’re fucking the singer- your career was over.

“If people find out I’ll kill you.”

“Does this mean you’re gonna agree?”

You nod, reluctantly.

“Thank you!” He jumps out of his chair, “I swear I’ll make it up to you, thank you so much.”

— — —

If you were in Harry’s position you’d be vigilant of everything, everyone, everywhere. You’d be paranoid of someone jumping through your bedroom window while you were asleep. But Harry was oddly calm. Maybe he was just like that. His lips were formed almost in a smile while he slept, and his eyes were moving under his eyelids- probably from a dream he was having. He wasn’t calm very often- recently he’d been very on edge and anxious about everything, it was nice to see him look so peaceful. You hoped for that sort of peace someday soon.

You had been in the studio going on six hours, and when he’d taken a break from recording so you could go over the tracks he’d managed to fall asleep in that short period of time.

You let him sleep while you packed up the equipment, putting things back into their assigned places, and didn’t bother waking him up until you were 100% ready to go.

“Harry,” You said softly, shaking his shoulder lightly, “Harry we gotta go.”

His eyes opened and he blinked a few times to adjust himself to the light.

“Huh?”

“We only had the studio booked until six, we gotta go.”

“Oh,” He sat up, stretching his arms and cracking his neck that had went into a cramp, “Sorry, don’t even remember falling asleep to be honest.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You shrug, “We got enough done today anyways. You deserve a rest.”

There were only three days left until the day Harry had said you were leaving for his parents place, and you had skipped over the subject every time he’d tried to bring it up. You didn’t really want to think about it because you were dreading it so badly.

“I’ll give you a ride home.” Harry said as you left the studio building.

“No, it’s alright.” You say, “I’ll just get an Uber.”

Harry glared at you, “Y/N, just get in the car.”

You glare back. But it had been a long day so getting a free lift wasn’t so bad.

“So.” He said, starting the car. “We gotta go over some things.”

“About the album?” You play dumb.

“… No.” He rolls his eyes, “Stop pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Love, you gotta tell me some stuff about you. My parents are gonna ask me shit and I don’t have a clue what to tell them.”

You groan. You should’ve stuck to your gut and got an Uber.

“Like what.”

He shrugs, “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Purple.” You reply.

“Mines is blue.”

“I know,” You reply.

“What’s your favourite song?” He asked.

You laughed to yourself a little.

“Jet black heart,” You grin, knowing you’d get some sort of reaction out of this answer, “By 5 Seconds of Summer.”

“5 Seconds of Summer?” Harry scoffs, “They’re punks!”

You roll their eyes, “They turned to pop music and half of them are married, they’re hardly punks.”

“You know one of them dated my sister, right?” Harry groaned.

“Yep,” You grin, “And wrote a banging tune about it as well.”

“Don’t remind me.” He muttered.

“Look, you asked me a question and I gave you an honest answer. You can’t complain.”

“I know, I know.” Harry said, “You got any exes?”

You raise your eyebrows, “What?”

“This is the kind of stuff I need to know! Like I dunno if I’m your first boyfriend and all that.”

“Harry… I’m 24 years old. You’re not my first boyfriend.”

You said it almost as if he was your boyfriend. It sent a chill down your spine. This was going to be a long few weeks.

“Good to know.” He said.

He dropped you off outside your apartment.

“I guess the next time I see you will be for when we’re leaving, yeah?”

You nod. There was no studio session booked until after his vacation to Cape Cod, where his families beach house was, so he was right. The next time you see him would be at the airport.

“Flights at seven.” He says.

“Got it.”

The next few weeks were going to be hell.

part two coming soon…

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[melrodrigo]

Tardy - T.C.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None??

Summary: You come late to a class one day, and an unexpected friendship, (and maybe more) blossoms.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Woo! This was a long one to write, and i'm not sure if i added enough fluff in there, but if you guys want a part two, i'm happy to write more :)

You had been pining over this girl for six months. At first it was all fun and games, just some motivation to get up and into class each morning. But soon with every nice gesture and soft smile she sent your way, it turned into something more.

Tara Carpenter.

She was the prettiest girl you've ever laid your eyes on, with wide doe eyes and freckles littered everywhere across her face. You'd noticed her one particular day when you had realized you overslept, rushed into class, in nothing but your jamies and an oversize hoodie.

When you opened the doors, a little loud, okay maybe a lot loud, everyone's heads snapped to you. You stilled, acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on you.

A small giggle sounded through the room, and you locked eyes with a short-looking brunette.

Feeling embarrassed enough to last a lifetime, you quickly hurried over and sat next to the girl, a blush rising up your neck at everyone still staring.

"As I was saying..." The professor began, to which most people took their eyes off you and focused back on the lesson. You breathed out a sigh.

"That was quite an entrance, if I do say so myself." A voice sounded beside you.

When you turned your head to look at her, the comeback you had so cleverly thought up died in your throat.

"I- um, hi! Yeah, it was a crazy day, see- I just went to a party last night and I might've gotten crazy drunk and then forgot to set my alarm and woke up and realized we had a test today, so I really wasn't thinking about my outfit, but-" You stopped when you realized you'd been rambling, the blush rising to the tip of your ears now, though for a totally different reason.

The girl cocked an eyebrow up and gave a tiny smirk.

"Sorry, my name's YN. I'm not usually this stupid." You offered her a handshake, head turned down in embarrassment.

"A handshake?" She asked a little teasingly, but took your hand nevertheless.

Deciding you'd already embarrassed yourself enough for one day, you turned back to the teacher, determined not to act stupid in front of this pretty girl.

"Tara." She mumbled after a while, but loud enough for you to hear.

"I'm sorry?"

She turned to you and tilted her head a bit, like staring hard enough would allow her to read your mind.

"My name's Tara." She said, giving you another soft smile.

You felt your lips start to tug upwards at the ends, and a giddy feeling, like butterflies entered your stomach.

"Pleased to meet you, Tara."

_

The both of you never talked about the routine you got into, but ever since that first day, when you walked into class and scanned the room, you would always look for Tara first.

She would always leave a seat beside her for you, death glaring anyone that tried to sit in it.

It was a comfortable situation, and you were content in being in her company, even though it was only for a few hours.

You’d bring her and yourself some coffee, quickly remembering what her go-to order was.

Sometimes you guys would study together in the library, throwing flirty comments and looking at each other longer than friends should.

You couldn’t help but get distracted sometimes in class, what with such a gorgeous girl next to you, how could you not?

Unbeknownst to you, Tara would also sneak some peeks in, but she was a lot more discreet about it. You never caught her staring once.

-

But on one random Tuesday morning, she wasn't there. It was weird of Tara to not be there before you, since you were always late, but you shrugged it off and figured she might've gotten lost on the way to class. She would never miss a class in her life. You brushed the nagging feeling in your chest away.

Halfway through the lesson, the nagging feeling turned into outright worry. Tara would never miss a class without an important reason, and if she did, she would have at least texted you about it. The two of you had grown pretty close in the last semester.

y/n: Hey, are you okay?

She never answered.

As soon as the class ended, you sprinted outside and started running.

Finding the way to Tara's apartment was a bit challenging, seeing as though you'd never been there before. But Tara had given the address to you once, during a frat party you attended together.

You swayed on the heels of your feet anxiously, hoping Tara was home and not out somewhere dangerous. You had heard news of a new killer around, though you didn't pay it much attention. You certainly didn't want Tara to be one of his victims though.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A girl you'd never seen before opens the door, expression clearly annoyed. She looked a bit like Tara, but her demeanor was all dark and gloomy, completely unlike Tara.

"Um...is Tara home?" You mumbled, starting to feel small under her intense gaze.

"And who the hell are you? " She asked, eyebrows furrowed, arms crossed in front of her chest.

"YN?" Came a voice from inside, and you immediately recognized it as Tara's.

The girl at the door was pushed aside gently, and you looked down to see Tara, a curious expression painting her face.

"Ohmygod i'm so glad your okay. I was so worried I thought that psycho killer might've gotten you." You mumbled as you pulled her in for a tight embrace, her face nuzzling in the side of your neck. A small giggle erupted from the girl, and she held you a little tighter.

You stayed like that for a while, until someone loudly cleared their throat beside you.

You pulled away quickly, forgetting that there were other people present, and straightened up, raising your hand to the girl who greeted you at the door.

“Sam? Is everything okay?” Came a male voice from inside the apartment.

“Yeah, we’re good Chad!” She shouted back, still eyeing you like you were scum on earth.

You took a breath and stepped forward, raising your hand and meeting her eye.

"Hi. I'm YN." She eyed your hand, arms still crossed and very much still looking furious.

"A handshake?" She shot Tara a look, expressing something like a "really? this is the one you pick?"

"Yeah i'm sorry if i'm intruding, I just wanted to make sure Tara was okay since she didn't come to class today." You explained.

The older girl was fast to snap back, "You are, and you've seen her, so you should leave now."

"Sam!" Tara exclaimed, taking a hold of your wrist to prevent you from leaving.

"It's okay Tara, I don't mind. As long as I know you’re okay, then I’m good." You whispered, making sure she looked you in the eye to express how serious you were.

Her eyes softened a little, before turning to Sam and speaking slowly.

"He must've saw her come up. We can't let her go. She might get attacked."

You furrowed your eyebrows, starting to get confused about what they were talking about.

Sam must've saw the look in Tara's eyes, because she rebuffed her immediately, glaring at you as she said, "Absolutely not. I know nothing about her, you know nothing about her. For all we know, she's the killer!"

At that you step in.

"Woah, woah woah. I just gotta defend myself here and say I don't know what you're talking about right now, but I am most definitely not a killer." You winked at the older girl, trying to keep the mood light.

Oh shit. That sounds exactly like something a killer would say.

"I mean-! I'm just Tara's friend, I wanted to make sure she was okay. She never misses class so I came to check on her." You hurried out, seeing the look of suspicion growing on Sam's face.

"Please, Sam. How many innocent people are you gonna let die? And if she is the killer, then we'll have her right here with us! We'll keep an eye on her." Tara pleaded, though her tone was more pressed than anything.

Sam let out a scoff, and walked away, further into their apartment.

You’re left standing in the hallway corridor, not really sure what just happened.

"I guess that's a yes." Tara sing-songed and smiled at you, pulling you in and closing the door and giving you a peck on the cheek.

Your eyes widened and you tried your best not to gulp, but by the way Tara's smile turned even bigger, you know you failed.

"Come on, let's go meet the others." She tugged on your wrist, which she was still keeping a death grip on. Effectively dragging you forward to the living room.

You snap out of your daze and start to follow her, but not before asking a question you should’ve asked about five minutes before.

"What's this about me being a killer again?"

[the-winter-spider]

The View Between Villages: Part Six

Word Count: 4.1k

Pairings: Bucky x reader, TASM!Peter x reader

Warnings: Mentions of su!cide

Masterlist

—

“Y/N, I know you’re in there. Open up, doll, please.” Bucky’s voice was soft, laced with desperation as he rested his forehead against the door. It had been almost a month since he last saw you. He’d walked by your apartment countless times, even though it was nowhere near his place or his therapist’s office. It was the only way he could feel close to you anymore.

Especially when you wouldn’t answer his calls or respond to his texts. The only reason he figured out how to use his phone remotely was to reach out to you, but he’d settled for listening to your voicemail. The familiar message played over and over in his mind: “Hi, you’ve reached Y/N. If you have this number, odds are you’re probably in the compound with me and are too lazy to come find me.” A pause, and then Natasha’s voice in the background, “It was one time… okay, maybe more than 10.” Steve and your laughter followed before you continued, “But if not, I guess leave a message.” Tony’s voice cut in at the end, “She won’t get back to you, bye!” before the beep sounded.

But four weeks was far too long. He had to know you were alright. Sam had told him that he stopped by two weeks ago, heard the TV on, and saw your shadow under the door, but you weren’t answering him either. Bucky was hoping this wasn’t about him telling you he needed time. He felt so stupid doing that. He’d talked about it with Steve after you left, the night Steve told the two of you he was going to stay.

Steve had told him he was being stupid, that it wasn’t by chance all three of you were alive—just like it wasn’t by chance when he went to collect the Infinity Stones with Tony, he just so happened to hide in Peggy’s office. It was fate. Bucky knew he was being stupid, knew everything Steve and you had done for him, to get him back, to save him. All the sacrifices you made. But it was just so easy for Steve to toss him—and you—aside. He was scared that once you realised he wasn’t the same Bucky anymore, you’d do the same. But you also weren’t the same Y/N he fell in love with anymore, and nothing scared him more than falling out of love with you.

What was a little more time, he thought?

You stood there, staring at the door, your heart pounding in your chest. You could see his shadow from under the doorframe. You felt like you were on fire—quite literally possible for you to set yourself on fire too—and you would if it meant Bucky was here to beg for you back with a ring in hand.

“Please, it’s about the shield, about Steve. We need to get it back, back to where it belongs.”

Burning.

“I’m done, Buck.” Your voice was hoarse, your throat scratchy. You were positive he wouldn’t have even heard it if it wasn’t for the serum.

“What do you mean you’re done?” His voice grew louder as he banged on the door a little harder. “Open the door, let’s talk, please.”

“Go away, James. I don’t want you here.”

Wincing at his name coming out of your mouth, made something in him churn, he scoffed, the sound cutting through the silence like a knife. “You’re really going to do this? After everything Steve did for you?”

You winced, the glass cup in your hand shattering to the ground, water pooling around your feet. The fire within you momentarily extinguished, replaced by a cold, empty feeling that seeped into your bones.

Silence stretched between you, the only sound was the drip of water from the broken cup. You stood there, unmoving, surrounded by shards of glass.

“Y/N, I didn’t—I’m sorry.” His voice was softer now, filled with regret. He lingered for a moment longer, and you heard the floor creak as he slowly walked away.

The echo of his footsteps faded, leaving you alone in the quiet, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. You looked down at the shattered glass, the water still seeping into the cracks of the floorboards. The fire was gone, replaced by an overwhelming numbness that you weren’t sure would ever leave.

You sank to the floor, your back against the door, knees drawn to your chest. The water soaked through your clothes, but you didn’t care. The silence was suffocating, pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. You rested your head on your knees, closing your eyes as a single tear slipped down your cheek.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, the weight of your grief pressing you further into the ground. But as the hours passed, the numbness began to fade, replaced by a dull ache deep in your chest. You weren’t sure what hurt more—Bucky’s words or the fact that he was right.

Steve was gone. Tony was gone. Natasha was gone. And now, it felt like Bucky was gone too.

But what did it matter? You were done. Done fighting, done caring, done with everything. You were so tired—tired of being strong, of holding on to something that had slipped through your fingers long ago.

But as much as you wanted to give up, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Bucky was still out there, still hoping you’d open that door. And a part of you wanted to—wanted to reach out, to hold onto the one person who understood what you were going through.

But that part of you was buried deep, smothered by the pain and the grief and the endless darkness that surrounded you. So you stayed there, on the cold, wet floor, alone with your thoughts and the broken pieces of your heart.

—-

Louisiana 2024

Sam stood on his front porch, his phone clutched tightly in his hand as he stared at the call log. The screen dimmed, reflecting his own frustrated expression back at him. He exhaled sharply, his thumb hovering over your name before he pressed it and brought the phone to his ear. When it went straight to voicemail, he let out a groan, squeezing the phone so hard that, if he had the serum running through his veins, it would have shattered.

A whirlwind of emotions churned inside him—frustration at how vague you’d been, anger at Bucky for keeping him in the dark, and an overwhelming sense of dread. He’d seen the headlines, the video footage of you walking away from Bucky with lightning cracking the sky behind you. At first, he thought it was just another argument, a clash of wills. He knew how stubborn Bucky could be, but you—you were supposed to be the glue that held everything together. Steve had always said that about you. Sam had hoped it would hold true, that you and Bucky could find common ground, that the three of you could weather this storm together.

But everything had changed. Six months was a long time, too long. Sam had given you space, knowing you needed time to process everything, but the silence was unbearable. Every day he checked his phone for any sign that you were okay, scoured the news for anything that might hint at your whereabouts. When he heard about the lightning strike that split a 100-year-old tree in half, part of him was relieved—at least it was a sign that you were still out there. But it was clearly intentional, and that worried him more. He tried talking to Bucky, but all he got was the same dismissive response: “None of your business.”

But now, as he replayed your last conversation over and over in his mind, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just a “see you later.” It felt like a real goodbye, the kind you don’t come back from. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought about one of the last conversations he’d ever had with Steve, the one where they’d talked about you. Steve had been so sure that you’d be okay, that you’d find your way. But now… Sam wasn’t so sure.

He paced the porch, the old wood creaking under his boots, trying to figure out what to do next. Should he try to find you? Track you down? Or was that just pushing you further away? The more he thought about it, the more his mind raced, caught between his loyalty to you and the promise he made to Steve—to keep the team, the family, together.

Sam ran a hand over his face, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him. He was Captain America now, but he felt more lost than ever. “Damn it, Y/N,” he muttered under his breath, glancing out at the horizon, where the last light of the day was fading into darkness. “I can’t lose you too.”

—

2023 - A Little Before Steve Rogers’ Passing

“Hey Sam?”

“Yeah, Cap?”

A small smile tugged at Steve’s lips. “You know you can stop calling me that. The shield’s yours now.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but there was a warmth in his voice. “You’re always gonna be my Captain.”

Nostalgia washed over Steve’s face before his expression grew serious. “Y/N hasn’t come by, I haven't seen her since the stones. I haven’t heard from her. I’m worried, Sam.”

“I’ve stopped by multiple times, called, texted… She’s just not answering. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Bucky won’t tell me anything,” Steve paused, sensing a lie in his own words before continuing, “They must be fighting again.” A small, bittersweet smile played on his lips as he thought of the countless, trivial arguments between you and Bucky.

Sam snorted. “Makes two of us. I think she’s just not handling all this…” He gestured toward Steve, who was lying in the hospital bed. “Well.”

Steve nodded, his expression conflicted. He opened his mouth, then closed it, weighing whether to say what he was thinking. Finally, he spoke, his voice tinged with hesitation. “I know this is asking a lot of you, Sam, but you need to look after her.”

“You know I will, Cap. Always. She’s family to me too.”

Steve’s face softened, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes. “I’m gonna tell you something that only Y/N, Tony, Fury, and I knew. You can’t tell Bucky. It’ll just make things worse.”

Sam’s demeanour shifted as he leaned in, sensing the gravity of what Steve was about to reveal. “Yeah, of course. My lips are sealed.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Y/N… she didn’t just go for a walk, fall asleep, and wake up here,” he said. “She died, Sam.”

Sam’s mouth dropped open in shock. “What? That wasn’t in any file…”

“I know. We decided it was best kept a secret. But a little bit after she woke up, she couldn’t remember much. When it all came back to her, she was hysterical. We had to sedate her. It was like everything she felt before hit her all at once. But we got her to talk. It wasn’t uncommon after the war for people to…” Steve hesitated, the weight of the truth heavy on his shoulders.

Sam’s eyes widened, his discomfort evident as he anticipated where Steve was headed.

“She lost us, Sam. She didn’t have anyone left. She attended not one, but two funerals where there was no body. I couldn’t imagine what she felt,” Steve continued, his voice growing softer. He looked directly at Sam, his expression grave. “She did it, Sam. She went to… and she did.”

“Steve, that’s… a lot,” Sam stammered, standing up to pace near the foot of the bed. “That changes everything. I gotta—”

Steve cut him off gently. “I know it’s a lot. But as long as you know she’s still in there, alive… that’s all that matters, Sam.”

“Why didn’t you tell Bucky? That’s his girl,” Sam pressed, clearly struggling to process the information.

“He was going through a lot. He was healing. She was healing. She promised me everything was fine,” Steve replied, though his voice was tinged with doubt.

“He’d kick down that door if he knew,” Sam muttered, almost to himself.

Steve managed a small smile. “Yeah, I know he would. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight. She’s his everything.”

“Any idea why they’d be fighting?” Sam asked, his tone tinged with frustration.

Steve shrugged, though the gesture seemed forced. “Can’t say I do, Sam.”

But of course, Steve knew. Bucky had come to him two weeks ago, asking for advice about you. He’d admitted he didn’t know who he was anymore, and by extension, he didn’t know who you were either. He was afraid of dragging you through the dark tunnel of his self-discovery. Steve had told him that was a stupid notion—that you’d be more hurt by him saying he needed space, that he needed time. After all, the two of you were already on borrowed time.

Steve had promised Bucky he wouldn’t say anything, no matter how badly he wanted to, because he’d hoped that the two of you would sort things out before it was too late. But by the looks of it, that wasn’t the case. It was a secret that Steve would take to the grave, trusting that Bucky would confide in Sam when he was ready, when the trust between them was strong enough. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

As Sam paced the room, his mind raced with the implications of what Steve had just revealed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out, not just for Steve, but for all of them. He stopped and turned to face his old friend, his expression hardening with resolve.

“I won’t let her slip away, Steve,” Sam said, his voice steady. “I promise you that.”

Steve nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I know you won’t, Sam. I trust you.”

The two men shared a moment of silence, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future hanging heavily between them. Sam could see that Steve was tired, but there was a peace in his eyes, a quiet acceptance of what was to come.

“Steve… I need to know. Do you think she’ll be okay? Really okay?” Sam asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Steve’s gaze softened as he looked up at Sam. “She’s strong, Sam. Stronger than she knows. But she’s been through so much… too much. She’ll need you. She’ll need both of you.”

Sam nodded, feeling the enormity of the responsibility settle on his shoulders. He knew that he couldn’t let Steve down—not now, not ever.

As he turned to leave, Steve’s voice stopped him at the door. “Sam… thank you.”

Sam looked back, his hand resting on the doorframe. “For what?”

“For being the man you are, for taking the shield. For everything, for looking after my family” Steve said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude.

Sam nodded, unable to find the right words to respond. He simply gave Steve a small, respectful salute before walking out of the room, his mind already racing with what he needed to do next.

Outside, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden light over the compound. Sam took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He knew what he had to do. He had to find you, had to make sure you were okay, and most importantly, he had to keep Steve’s promise.

—

The front door swung open.

“What the hell, Sam? Was that Y/N?! Don’t even lie to me—I heard you say her name,” Bucky’s brows were creased in frustration, his finger pointing accusingly at Sam.

Sam hesitated, knowing that Bucky was already on edge. He had promised Steve, but he also knew that Bucky needed to know the truth. There was no way around it anymore. “We should go inside,” Sam finally said, his voice calm but firm.

As Sam turned to walk inside, Bucky grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. The two men locked eyes, and Sam could see the worry, panic, and heartache in Bucky’s gaze. He could also see the deep love Bucky had for you, and it only made what he had to say harder. Sam nodded toward the table inside, motioning for Bucky to follow. He could hear Bucky’s heavy footsteps behind him, each step filled with a mix of dread and anticipation.

Sam pulled out a chair and sat down, while Bucky remained standing with his arms crossed, a stubborn look on his face. “Sit down, Buck.”

“No,” Bucky replied, his voice flat.

“Bucky, sit down,” Sam insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Bucky lingered for a moment longer, his jaw clenched, before finally giving in and pulling out the chair across from Sam. “You better start talking, Sam,” he demanded, his voice low and tense.

Sam took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I will, under one condition: you don’t interrupt me. And know that the only reason I didn’t tell you earlier is because Steve made me promise.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Fine. Just talk.”

“One of the last times I went to visit Steve, he told me something that only he, Fury, Stark, and Y/N knew. It wasn’t in any of her files for good reason—it was need-to-know information, and Steve didn’t want to burden you with it while you were recovering. He believed Y/N would tell you when she was ready.” Sam paused, watching Bucky’s reaction carefully. “What do you know about the night she disappeared?”

Bucky’s scowl deepened. “Peggy told her about Steve…” he cleared his throat “And me, after the funerals, she just disappeared. Steve told me she fell asleep by our spot and woke up in 2012. The ground absorbed her or something, right?”

Sam shook his head, his expression somber. “She didn’t fall asleep, Buck.”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with confusion and anger. “What do you mean she didn’t fall asleep? So Steve lied to me?”

“Bucky… she died.”

Bucky shot out of his chair, the force sending it flying back. “What do you mean, she died? So she’s a ghost?! That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” He started pacing, his mind racing as he tried to process Sam’s words. “Why’d they lie to me?” He slammed his fist down on the table, making Sarah jump in the kitchen.

“She committed suicide,” Sam said quietly, the words heavy in the air. He wanted to break eye contact with Bucky, but he couldn’t. Now, he understood what you meant when you said Bucky’s ocean eyes could suck you in like a whirlpool. Sam felt like he was drowning as he saw them fill with water.

Bucky shook his head in disbelief. “No, no, no… Why would she do that, Sam? Did he say why she would do that? My girl wouldn’t do that. She—she—”

“She lost both of you, Buck. She lost you, then she lost Steve. You two were all she had. There were no bodies to bury—no closure. I can’t imagine what she was feeling.”

Bucky slumped onto the couch, the weight of Sam’s words pressing down on him. He had millions of questions, but he was scared to ask them. The answer to this one was already too heavy, and he wasn’t sure he could carry any more.

“Steve said they ran tests and they were never able to find out how she was resurrected, but they assumed it had to do with her powers. There was no other logical explanation,” Sam continued, his voice softening.

Bucky nodded slowly, the silence in the room thick and suffocating. It hung between them until Bucky suddenly jumped up from the couch. “She lost Steve.”

“We all lost Steve,” Sam replied, confused by Bucky’s sudden outburst.

“No, you don’t get it,” Bucky said, running his hands down his face in frustration. “She lost Steve, and I—fuck, I’m so stupid. I wasn’t thinking. I gotta call her Sam. This is bad. Do you think she—do you think she would do it again?”

“Whoa, Buck, slow down,” Sam said, standing up. “What are you talking about?”

“I told her I needed time, Sam. She gave me the ring back. We broke up. She lost me, then she lost Steve.”

“Did Steve know?”

“Of course he knew. He told me I was stupid. I am stupid.”

Sam’s eyes widened as he connected the dots. “That was her on the phone… She told me she was proud of me. She was saying goodbye, Buck.”

“Well, call her back!” Bucky shouted, panic rising in his voice.

“I tried. It goes straight to voicemail,” Sam replied, frustration evident in his tone.

“She called me,” Bucky whispered, his voice breaking. “A day ago. She didn’t say anything, but I could hear her. Then she just hung up.” He paused, the realisation hitting him like a punch to the gut. “What if she already…”

“Don’t say it, Buck. She’s not… She can’t be,” Sam said, trying to keep his own fear in check.

“We gotta go now. We gotta go to her place and kick her door down!” Bucky was already heading toward the door, determined in every step.

“Wait, Buck,” Sam blurted out, stopping Bucky in his tracks. “48 hours ago, a single lightning strike hit a 100-year-old tree in the park.”

Bucky froze, understanding immediately. He knew what you were doing. “She let me go,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he wiped away a tear. “She was letting me—us go.”

Sam looked at Bucky, his heart sinking. “Do you know where else she could have gone?”

Before Bucky could answer, Sarah’s voice called out from the kitchen. “Hey, guys? I hate to interrupt, but you might wanna see this.”

Both men rushed into the kitchen, their eyes locking onto the TV screen. Spider-Man was on a video call with a news reporter, but this time, his mask was off.

“Just the truth,” Spider-Man spoke.

“Oh, sure,” Jameson replied, rolling his eyes.

“I thought he wore a mask for a reason?” Bucky questioned, confused by what he was seeing.

Sarah’s eyes widened. “You two missed a lot while you were fixing that damn boat. They revealed his identity—just some kid named Peter Parker from Queens,” she shrugged, still watching the screen.

“The truth is, that this is all my fault. I accidentally brought those dangerous people here,” Peter admitted.

“Well, he admits it!” Jameson exclaimed.

“And if those people are watching, just know that I really did try to help you. I mean, I could have killed you at any given moment. But I didn’t, because my Aunt May taught me that everyone deserves a second chance. And that’s why I’m here.”

“And where is ‘here’ exactly?” Jameson pressed.

Peter turned the camera slightly, revealing his location. “A place that represents second chances.”

As the camera panned, both Bucky and Sam caught a glimpse of you standing on the Statue of Liberty before the camera turned back to Peter.

“Did you see that?” Bucky asked, his heart racing.

Sam nodded, his mind racing as well. “She did promise Stark she’d watch out for Spider-Man, and if Peter is Spider-Man, she’s gonna watch out for him too.”

“The Statue of Liberty?! Good God, folks, he’s about to destroy another national landmark!” Jameson continued to rant.

“But world, if you’re watching—”

“Believe me, the world is watching—” Jameson cut in.

“Wish me luck. Your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man could really use some,” Peter’s video ended, leaving the room in stunned silence.

Bucky turned to Sam, urgency in his voice. “Do you have his phone number?”

“When I became Captain America, they auto-synced phone numbers in my phone, but I’m not sure,” Sam said, reaching into his pocket.

“Well, check!” Bucky urged, his anxiety rising.

“What the hell do you think I’m doing?!” Sam shot back, scrolling through his contacts. “At least we know she’s alive.”

“Yeah, but not safe. What ‘bad guys’—plural, might I add—is he talking about?”

“I got it! I found it,” Sam said, turning his phone around to show Bucky the contact labelled ‘Spider-Man.’

Without hesitation, Bucky ripped the phone out of Sam’s hand and hit the call button, pressing it to his ear.

“What the hell, man? That’s my—”

Bucky put a finger to his lips, signalling Sam to be quiet as he waited for the call to connect. “Put Y/N on the phone,” Bucky demanded as soon as someone picked up on the other end.

[fyonahmacnally]

Hands On Experience (Kara's First Job)

Based on a tumblr post - read here.

It’s been a long week for all of them, even longer since they’ve all had a chance to unwind and relax in general, much less as a group. Between their regular jobs, their vigilante shifts, and just life in general, months have passed since their last girl’s night. Fortunately, tonight is the remedy to that problem. 

They’re all sitting around Lena’s living room, snacks, wine, and other spirits spread across the coffee table in front of them. Kelly, Alex, Nia, Sam, Andrea, Lena, and Kara are regaling each other with stories of their youth and the trouble they managed to get into. Hearing some of the stories from Andrea about a teenage Lena has everyone laughing and somewhat surprised. The normally straight-laced and stoic CEO was quite rebellious in her teen years. Who knew? Kara sure as hell didn’t. 

As the night continues, the alcohol flows freely and the conversations ebb and flow into different topics. Kara thinks they’ve finally ventured away from the stories of their younger years and she breathes a sigh of relief. She never really did anything rebellious, she has always been more of a good girl, a rule follower. She couldn’t really get into trouble while trying to hide her identity. The two weren’t compatible.

But…not many people know about her first job. The one she got right after graduating college to pay for her first apartment in National City. It’s not something she tells many people. Especially since it came about by accident. She’s not ashamed of it, she’s just not sure how people will react to it. The times it has come out in conversations, reactions have been mixed. Plus, she sighs internally, if Alex is around, she always pushes her to tell The Story™ about the break-in. It isn’t something she likes to share.

Again, not because she is ashamed, it’s just that the way she got the job comes up and okay, that part is embarrassing. People usually laugh, tease her about it. And okay, she can see how it might be objectively funny, but she just…whatever. She’s a grown ass woman now. 

Still, she doesn’t want to tell The Story™ in front of Sam, Andrea, and Lena. She already gets teased by Alex about it and she knows Sam and Andrea won’t let her live it down. And Lena, Rao. They’ve been dating for a few months now and have had sex so they’ve discussed things. Kara knows Lena was a little surprised when she brought so much knowledge to those conversations, but she’s never asked about it.

In fact, of all the people currently sitting in this room, Alex is the only one who knows The Story™. Maybe Kelly because they talk about everything, but yeah. It’s not a story anyone else in the room knows and Kara wants to keep it that way. She’s managed it for years, maybe her luck will continue.

Just as she begins to relax, thinking she has managed to dodge the story and keep her secret for another day, she hears her name. When she shakes herself from her inner dialogue, six pairs of eyes are on her. 

“What?” Kara asks, looking from face to face before her eyes land on her sister. Her shoulders sink. She knows that look, that’s The Story™ look. Fuck. She is not going to be able to escape it, but she has to try. “Did I miss something?” 

Alex grins, a mischievous glint in her brown eyes. “We were just talking about our first full-time jobs. Andrea was under the impression that working for CatCo is the only full-time job you’ve ever had.” She tilts her head and smirks at her now nervous sister. “I corrected her, but that story is so much better when it comes from you. Care to share, Kara?” 

She sighs and drops her chin to her chest, this isn’t what she had in mind when she requested a Girl’s Night with her friends. Not even close. To be fair, she’s a little shocked Alex hasn’t somehow forced this story out before now. She is also definitely not drunk enough for this conversation either, so she makes a decision.

Kara bolts up from her seat, glass in hand. “If I am telling The Story™ I need more alcohol.” She sends pleading eyes to her girlfriend before turning to make a quick exit to the kitchen, Lena following close behind.

“Hey.” Lena’s soft voice, full of concern, breaks the silence. She walks around the island to stand next to her unusually quiet girlfriend. “Are you okay, Darling? If you want me to kick everyone out for the evening, I will. I can have Frank take everyone home.” She smoothes the now prominent crinkle between the blonde’s eyes, waiting for a response.

“No, it’s fine. This was bound to come up in conversation eventually. Honestly, I just hoped it wouldn’t be tonight.” She lets out a long sigh before burying her head into Lena’s neck, breathing in her comforting lavender scent.

Lena wraps her arms around her favorite person, placing a soft kiss to her temple before pulling her close. “You know, I always assumed CatCo was your first job too. We’ve never really talked about it.” She feels Kara pull away with a slight grimace on her face. Their eyes meet and Lena raises a brow at the Kryptonian.

Kara shrugs. “It’s what most people assume. I just don’t correct them.” She chuckles as she pulls the Aldebaran rum from the cabinet and pours a very full glass. Taking a big gulp, she winces at the slow burn moving down her throat. “I suppose I should get this over with, huh? Let everyone get their laughter and teasing quota in for the evening.”

Green eyes watch her curiously, taking in this peculiar behavior from the blonde. She’s seen Kara wary of things, but she’s not sure she’s ever seen her like this. It isn’t apprehension, it seems to be more like resignation, but she’s not sure what to make of it. 

“Kara, you don’t have to tell anyone anything. If this makes you uncomfortable, we can put a stop to it. Just say the word.” Lena says, a fiery determination on her face. 

A warm bubble of affection bursts in Kara’s chest before genuine laughter escapes her mouth. She smiles and kisses the dark-haired woman right on the enticing pout in front of her. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s an objectively funny story, just a little embarrassing. Besides, I’m also curious as to how you will react.” She waggles her brows and places one more soft kiss to Lena’s lips before dragging them both back to the rest of their friends.

The blonde takes a deep breath and reclaims her seat on the couch, Lena’s warm presence next to her and the warmth of the alien liquor in her system finally giving her the courage to expose her current biggest secret.

“My first job was at a sex shop called Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.” She pauses for what she knows will be gasps of disbelief, glancing around the room at the faces of some of her closest friends. True to her assumptions, most of the eyes staring back at her are wide and disbelieving. The only exceptions are Alex, Kelly, and surprisingly, Nia.

Nia tilts her head to the side and takes a sip of her drink before she leans forward, a knowing smile on her face. “Well, there are several things that make a lot more sense now.” The brunette giggles. “When I came to you about that article I wrote a couple of years ago about spicing up things in the bedroom, you knew way more than I expected you to. Now I know why!”

Kara sighs in exasperation. “I’m not nearly as innocent as everyone seems to think I am!” She scoffs, cutting her eyes at her sister in anticipation of what’s coming.

Alex lets out a really loud guffaw, her laughter jostling Kelly and making the rest of the group snap their eyes toward the redhead. “Oh Kara…my dear sweet sister. We all know you aren’t so innocent now, especially since dating Lena, I’m sure.” She smirks at the raven haired woman next to her, chuckling at the middle finger flipped in her direction. “But, please enlighten our friends on how you got that job.” She sips her scotch before leaning back into the cushion, snuggling into her wife’s side.

If looks could kill, Alex would be dead. She’s sure of it. The look she’s getting from Kara is filled with malice and daggers. She just smiles and winks at the blonde. Her mind is at peace, watching Lena absorb this story is worth every bit of ire from her sister. So, she relaxes and waits. Her part of the story will be here soon enough. 

After looking around the room at her friends one more time and get a reassuring squeeze from her girlfriend, Kara begins her tale:

“I was looking online for jobs. I had just graduated from NCU and gotten my first apartment. At that point, I was applying for almost anything because I just needed something to pay rent. I came across this ad for retail sales at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets and thought, why not? How hard can it be to sell toys and trinkets?”

She pauses her story to take a drink of liquid courage, noticing the half smirk on her girlfriend’s face. Shaking her head, she continues:

“A few days later, I got a call from the manager of the store to come in for an interview. The instructions were to go to the back door of the building so I didn’t know what kind of things were being sold until later. I genuinely thought it was toys and trinkets…you know, like a Schwartz toy store.”

The uproarious laughter at that statement yanked her out of her story and she covered her face with a grumble. Lifting her face, she glares at her sister before turning to the rest of the group. “Look, if you guys want the rest of the story, you’re going to have to stop interrupting me. This is serious!” She harumphs and crosses her arms, making the group laugh even harder.  She rolls her eyes and sits silently, waiting.

“Okay, okay. Settle down, let her finish.” Sam chimes in, wiping the tears of laughter from her face before settling back in next to Andrea. The couple share a soft smile before returning their attention to Kara.

“Are you sure you’re done?” She flicks her eyes between everyone before dropping them back onto her hands actively twisting in her lap. “Anyway, I went in for the interview…”

“I opened the back door and stepped inside to what seemed to be a storeroom. It looked pretty normal. Boxes, shelves, labels, nothing to indicate anything outside of the toy store I imagined. The manager, John, came out to greet me and took me into his office for the interview. 

Now, what happens next was a little odd to me at the time and looking back it was obvious, but I was 21 and still not used to Earth’s customs so I just rolled with it. John brought out this…apparatus that was a very lifelike replica of a bare bottom.”

Kara growls as another round of belly laughs interrupts her telling of The Story™. This time she doesn’t say anything. She sits, silently waiting for the laughter to subside. Once it is quiet again, she makes eye contact with each of them trying to convey her frustration.

“Alright. Let’s get ourselves together and listen.” Lena clears her throat, quickly wiping away her own tears of laughter before she continues. “Go ahead, Darling. Finish your story, we’ll do our best not to interrupt you again.” Green eyes glare at the rest of the group before gently squeezing Kara’s leg in encouragement.

She sighs, throws her head back and stares at the ceiling before finally continuing, hopefully finishing this time.

“John had me…spank the bare bottom several times. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for at first, but later he told me that I kept my composure better than anyone else before me. I realize now it was because people probably laugh their asses off. For me it was pretty confusing because I assumed it was for some lifelike doll…which, looking back, I suppose it was.”

She laughs at her younger self. In hindsight, this story is pretty damn funny. If it were one of her friends, she’d probably be laughing hysterically as well. This line of thought seems to release something inside her and she smiles. The rest of the story should be easy.

“At this point, I still didn’t realize that it was a sex shop. I hadn’t seen the store and nothing about the storeroom indicated otherwise. Granted, I should have realized that spanking a prosthetic ass was a dead giveaway, but I’m an alien for Rao’s sake. I’d never seen anything like that in my entire life!

So, you can imagine, on my first day when I walked into the store, I was shocked. It was wall-to-wall dicks, vibrators, and all sorts of contraptions I didn’t know existed. Most of the day was spent with some shade of rosy embarrassment from head to toe. As much as I wanted to turn tail and run right out of there, I needed the job so I stuck it out. I learned a lot about sex and people in those two years I worked there.”

She grins at her friends, pausing briefly to wink at Lena. “Now, the really crazy part of my time working there happens about six months before I started working at CatCo…” Kara briefly glances at Alex before continuing her story.

“It was a Friday morning. We didn’t typically open until noon because the weekends were our busiest days with the latest hours. By this time, I was the assistant manager at the store so it wasn’t uncommon for me to open the store or close up at night. John and I had become friends at this point too so work was actually a lot of fun. Anyway, he had to drive up to our distribution center to sort out a shipment that had gotten delayed and left me in charge. 

Since we opened at noon, I would usually get there around 10:45 to get things ready. However, on this particular day, one of our alarms was triggered. I got a call from the security company that an internal motion sensor was activated. It was shocking because we had very good security and had never had an issue. After telling them to call the police, I headed to the store.

Now, in order to understand the story, I need to tell you the layout of the store. Upstairs was where most of the really risque, more fetish and BDSM stuff was kept. No one was allowed up there without a member of the staff accompanying them. The bottom floor was where most customers stayed.

The layout of the first floor consisted of five zones. Imagine it from left to right. Zone 1 was all the porn DVD’s. Zone 2 was all of our lower end sex toys, all the more tame offerings in the lower price ranges. Zone 3 was the higher end sex toys and more…advanced offerings. It was where the realistic asses were kept.”

She smiles and looks around at her friends, once again winking at her girlfriend. They are all grinning and seem to be amused by her story. Taking a sip of her rum, she sits her glass down, presses a soft kiss to Lena’s cheek and keeps going.

“Zone 4 was the checkout where we spent most of our shift. And finally, Zone 5 was all the wearables - we called it the ‘lingerie, leather, and lace’ section. Each section had a camera directly focused on it as well as various other cameras throughout the store. There were motion sensors that were active when the store was armed and alarms on all the doors. Another bonus is that we weren’t far from one of the local police precincts.

To say that John and I were shocked about the break-in is an understatement. In the 18 months I had been there, we hadn’t had any issues and John said he’d never had any in the 3 years he’d been there before me. This thief was very savvy. They broke one of the windows on the lower level close to the lower end toys in Zone 2. For some reason, the alarms were only set to go off if the upper windows were breached and not these. 

When the thief got in, they pretty much had the run of the store as long as they stayed clear of the motion sensors. Based on what I saw when I got there to meet the cops, the thief was initially after the DVD’s. Unfortunately for them, we keep the discs in a locked cabinet behind the checkout so the cases on the display are all empty.”

Kara chuckles and glances over at Alex, both of them have an amused twinkle in their eyes. She smiles at her sister and proceeds.

“The crook was clever, they were wearing a full bodysuit to cover their face and all their skin so their identity was well masked. When we watched the security footage back, it was evident that when the thief couldn’t get the DVD’s they decided to randomly grab whatever they could. However, instead of going for the high end toys and wearables, the sports car equivalent of goods for sexual pleasure, they stuffed as many of the cheapest, flimsiest dildos, foulest bottles of lube, and random edible things into their backpack. They did all that without triggering any alarms too. It wasn’t until they were climbing out of the broken window that they nicked one of the motion sensors on some of the more expensive products and kicked off the alarms. 

Once that alarm was triggered, I got the phone call and dispatched the police. By the time I got to the store, the woman my sister was dating at the time, who was a detective at the precinct up the street, was there waiting for me. Maggie and I were working through what was taken and documenting all the goods stolen. I still laugh about how many times Maggie had to write the words dildo, edible underwear, and lube in that report. 

What I didn’t know at the time was Maggie texted Alex to let her know the store had been broken into and Alex was making her way there to check on me. Maggie and I had been there for about 30 minutes before we heard a commotion outside the door.” 

She grins widely and nods her head at Alex, giving her permission to take over the telling of the story.

“I love telling this part of the story.” Alex beams, placing her empty tumbler on the table in front of her and leaning forward on the couch. The redhead claps her hands together as she dives into her part of the story. 

“I parked at a restaurant a block or so away. We went there a lot so I knew the owner and I figured we could grab some lunch once everything was squared away. As I was walking toward the scene, I saw this guy running toward me like a madman. There are things flying out of his backpack and he seems like he’s running from something. I pause for a minute and step to the side, not wanting to get taken out by the guy. 

That’s when I realized he was leaving a trail of dildos, lube, and edible underwear in his wake. It was like a tsunami of cheap sex aids covering the sidewalk around us. I had already grabbed my badge so I just called out for him to stop and flashed it up at him. Within seconds, the guy was on his knees in front of me, his palms up and sobbing out ‘It was MeEeEnnE!!! I stole the diLDoS!!!’”

The entire room erupts into laughter. There isn’t a dry eye in the entire place. It’s how this story always ends…lots of laughter and disbelief. When it all eventually dies down, Kara notices that Lena has gotten very quiet and she has a contemplative look on her face. Her plump bottom lip is trapped between her pristine white teeth and there is a faraway look in her malachite eyes.

Nia is the first to speak, pulling them all out of their brief silence. “Okay, I can’t believe you didn’t tell us that you worked at a sex shop before, Kara. This is pertinent information that you’ve been holding back!” She scoffs at her friend. “Also, that was the dumbest thief I’ve ever heard of. He took all the cheapest shit you had instead of the good shit. And…there’s a 24 hour coffee shop right next door to Cherry Poppins! He could have stayed there until the coast was clear and made off with his stash. What. An. Idiot.”

“Seriously! That’s where Drea and I usually go after our Poppins shopping trips.” Sam chimes in, shaking her head in disbelief before catching what she just revealed. She quickly clears her throat and changes the subject. “You’ve been holding out, Kara. You could have given us recommendations! You probably know more about this stuff than Lena does.” She smirks at her friend before looking at Andrea with a wink.

Andrea grins. “Yeah, Lena has been our go-to all this time and you’re the actual hidden expert sitting right in front of us.” The brunette looks over to her childhood friend and laughs. She nudges Sam and whispers, “She’s having some thoughts right now, connecting some things.”

They both giggle and watch as Lena’s hand drifts up to her still captured bottom lip, brushing lightly back and forth against the soft skin. Her green eyes are still glassy and staring past the room currently occupied. Right as they are about to say something, Lena speaks.

“So, this whole time, you’ve been holding out on me?!” Lena’s voice comes out far more breathy and deeper than she wanted. Her eyes suddenly focus intently on Kara’s. “Wait! This makes so much more sense now. This is why you know so much about the…”

“NO!!!” Alex screeches. “Do. Not. Finish. That. Sentence. Lena. Luthor.” She points a menacing finger in the direction of her friend, her sister’s girlfriend. 

The rest of the room laughs, but all of them notice the look of wanton desire on the CEO’s face, the way she is not so subtly devouring Kara with her eyes. It slowly becomes evident that they need to get out of this apartment before they see something they can’t ever forget. 

Lena slowly moves her gaze from Kara over to Alex before a devilish smirk plays across her lips. “Then I suggest you say your goodbyes, Agent Danvers.” She languidly licks her lips and lets her eyes track down Kara’s body again before looking back at the rest of their friends. “All of you should probably call it a night. I have some things to talk to my girlfriend about and we don’t need an audience.”

She pauses for a moment, quirks her brow, and looks directly into cerulean eyes with a smirk. “Unless you’re into that? Seems there’s quite a few things I don’t know about you…yet.”

“Yep, Yes! Okay.” Alex says, bolting up from the couch. “I think it’s definitely time to go.” She grabs Kelly’s hand to pull her off the couch and is quickly followed by Nia. The three of them grab their belongings and dash toward the door.

“Just leave everything, we will clean up tomorrow. Frank is waiting downstairs to see you home.” Lena smiles, her eyes drifting over to the remaining two people occupying the adjacent oversized chair. “That’s your queue to make your way down to the guest apartment. Don’t worry, the penthouse is sound proof so you won’t hear anything.” 

Andrea and Sam both laugh. Having known Lena the longest, they are familiar with her antics. They both roll their eyes as they stand and gather their things to head to the floor below and the apartment they are staying in while visiting National City. 

“I would say have fun tonight, but I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” Sam winks, pulling her girlfriend toward the door. “We’ll see you guys for brunch tomorrow.”

As the door closes behind them, Lena turns and straddles Kara’s lap. As her lips hover just above the blonde’s, she rubs her nose against her girlfriends and takes a deep breath. “I think we have some things to discuss, Miss Danvers.” Kara grins and lifts them from the couch, drifting toward the bedroom. “You’ve certainly been holding out on me and surely you have things to show me.”

And that’s how Lena found out Kara once worked at Cherry Poppins Toys & Trinkets.

[laundrybiscuits]

Hawkins all lit up for Christmas is like something out of a postcard. It’s been a warm winter, which means big fat snowflakes piling up in fluffy drifts all over town, and string lights have been going up along every street and building to make the whole town look like a gingerbread fantasy.

Steve remembers it feeling a lot more magical when he was a kid, back when he didn’t have to shovel his car out of the drive or worry about winter tires. They don’t salt the back ways early enough in Hawkins, so on days like this, it always takes him longer to drive to work, going slow and cautious down the main roads, trapped in the Hawkins version of a traffic jam as everyone else does the exact same thing as him.

When he finally gets to the print shop, Donna McCorkle’s waving enthusiastically at him from the parking lot.

“Steven, honey! I’m so glad to see you out and about. I heard—” she leans in and whispers in a way that might actually be more conspicuous than yelling at the top of her lungs. “I heard about you and Laura. Sweetie, I’m so sorry, we all really thought you two would be taking a little stroll down the aisle by spring.”

“Thanks, Mrs. McCorkle,” Steve says. “I’m okay, honest. Just wasn’t meant to be, I guess.”

Jerry nods in greeting as Steve gets in and hangs up his winter coat. “Heya, Harrington. You’re six minutes late.”

“Sorry, boss,” grunts Steve, scraping off his boots.

“S’fine. Considering the circumstances and all. Just don’t get too hung up on her, eh, son? Can’t let some woman get you down. That’s no way for a man to live.”

“Right,” Steve says. “I’m okay, honest. Wasn’t meant to be.”

He shoves his lunch in the minifridge and heads out to his desk to check his messages.

———

He gets beers with Hopper after work. As soon as he slides into the booth, Hop raises a knowing eyebrow and snorts. “Folks around town been up your ass about the thing with Laura today?”

Steve groans. “Don’t even know how it got around so fast. We broke it off just yesterday, and I sure as hell didn’t tell anyone.”

Hopper nudges a bowl of peanuts his way. “Ah, you know how Hawkins is. People just want to see you doing well, kid.”

“People just need to mind their own damn business.”

Hopper’s face creases into a wry smile. The lines around his eyes seem to be getting deeper by the week. “They go a little overboard, sure. But come on, it’s nice knowing people care, ain’t it?”

“Sure.” Steve takes a long gulp of beer. “Nice.”

———

“I’m just—tired, Robbie,” he sighs into the phone. “Feels like I can’t walk down the street without running into someone trying to talk to me about the breakup.”

“It’s been coming for a while though, right? I mean, you’ve been talking about how you weren’t sure about her for a while. Like, actually way too long. Like this definitely should’ve happened six months ago.”

“I know, I know. But we were together for over a year, and it was…I dunno, nice. Easy. Felt like the thing to do. People are gonna start back up asking why I’m not married yet, ‘cause everyone else around here seems to be.”

Robin’s laugh crackles down the line, tinny and familiar. He presses the receiver tight against his face like it’ll bring Robin closer.

“Miss the hell out of you, Buckley. Can’t wait until you get back for Christmas.”

“Actually…” Even through the shitty line, he can tell Robin sounds a little nervous. “I was thinking. Well, me and Eddie were thinking. My folks aren’t going to be in Hawkins this year, they’re visiting my aunts in Vermont, and…we’ve got some friends here who are planning to just stay in the city for the holidays. So. What would you think, hypothetically, about coming here instead of me going there? It could be fun! You’ve only visited like twice, and you haven’t visited at all since I moved in with Eddie. You should come see our place, it’s pretty great.”

It’s true, he hasn’t made the trip out for a while. Robin and Eddie had been talking about moving in together for years, and last spring they’d finally found a place they liked. Steve had offered to drive up and help them move in, but their move-in date was Laura’s cousin’s wedding weekend, so that hadn’t worked out. And then it had just been easy to let his summer and fall get away from him, and just see Robin when she came back to Hawkins, because Eddie never comes back to Hawkins at all if he can help it.

Steve’s not avoiding Eddie. Of course he's not. There’s no reason for him to avoid Eddie, because the thing about Eddie is that there’s not a thing. There’s never been a thing.

But the lack-of-thing, the space where a thing could maybe have been, is something that’s followed Steve around for the last six years or so whether he likes it or not.

It’s not like he thinks about it every day, or anything like that. It’s just that—there was a moment, maybe, back in ‘87. He’d been smoking with Eddie outside in the miserable freeze of February. The grimy slush around them had been half-liquid in a way that was going to be trouble in the morning, after it'd had a chance to freeze over.

“If I asked,” Eddie had said, eyes fixed on the distant gray skies. “Would you come with me?”

Steve hadn’t had an answer, then. He’d thought he’d known, by that point, all the different ways he could be afraid, so it took him a second to recognize the feeling clawing its way up his ribcage and quickening his pulse. His tongue had felt thick and useless in his mouth.

Eddie’d just nodded once in a matter-of-fact way, and crushed his cigarette butt beneath the scuffed toe of his boot. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, Harrington. I won’t ask.”

And then a week later he’d been gone. So it’s not like there was anything at all, not ever.

“Steve?” Robin’s voice is still kind of nervous. “What do you think? We’d both really love to see you.”

“Okay,” says Steve. “Sure. I’ll visit you guys for Christmas. Why the hell not?”

(continued here)

[cosmal]

happy 700 love!!! for the post break up prompts, can i request the 8th one (about a family wedding and almosts) with steve?

ily also can it have a happy ending

A smart woman | Steve Harrington

summary :: your grandmother thought you were gonna marry that boy. you have to tell him, drunk and at midnight. a month after your break-up.

anon anon anon!!! this was the one I wanted to do and with steve!! so we think so alike. so thank u!!!! i did have too much fun writing this so it’s a bit longer than my normal blurbs.

warnings/tags :: she/her pronouns, fem!reader, tiny mention of throwing up, drunk!reader, allusions to SA, basically steve jumps to conclusions when you’re just upset and dirty from a long walk.

Was the wedding after-party being two blocks from Steve Harringtons' house too good to be true? Or were you just pathetic?

Was it two blocks? Could’ve been three, or five. You’re not completely sure. After downing an inappropriate amount of wine coolers, the eighth one swinging from one hand, your strappy heels in the other, time was completely lost on you.

If Hopper were to drive past right now, he’d definitely have to take you home. Luckily not the precinct to sleep it off. Hopefully, you thought.

Leaving the wedding seemed an amazing idea at the time. The subconscious urge to head to Steve’s house didn’t feel stupid at all in your drunken haze. Now, with cuts along your feet from the unforgiving gravel and wind-bitten, flushed cheeks, you were half-regretting it, half-wanting to get to his house even quicker.

“Y/N, dear. Where’s that arm candy you were supposed to be bringing along tonight?” Your Grandma had asked you, two champagnes deep. You could tell she had been wanting to ask you ever since you had shown up alone. You’d expected her to bite her tongue off.

“Who? Steve?” You had feigned obliviousness. Acting as if it wasn’t a big deal. Truly, it wasn’t. You didn’t miss him one bit.

Not when your sister had shown up with a date. Not when, no matter where you looked, everyone seemed to have a partner linked through their arms or pressed to their lips. Even your six-year-old cousin seemed to have a cute little boy she was following around all night.

Not even when the bride and groom kissed did you miss Steve. Not even when tears had welled in your eyes and you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom for thirty minutes.

“Yes, Steve. He was quite the charmer. If I knew you weren’t going to be showing up with him, I would’ve asked him myself.” She chuckled. You had the decency in you to not laugh along with her.

“Oh, he…” You’d choked on oncoming tears you thought you had controlled, the lump in your throat felt as though it had grown tenfold. “We broke up.”

“Oh, that’s a shame. You two did really seem like a match made in heaven. I’d have thought it would've been you two at the end of that aisle next.” She truly didn’t mean any harm in her words. You had gushed to her about how much you loved him not only a month prior. You actually were supposed to bring him here tonight.

You had lasted all of two mundane rounds of small talk with relatives you didn’t care for before you had up and left.

You really did think the walk would be quick. It was longer than you had anticipated. You don’t remember there being this many hills. It was okay though.

You thought it was okay until you were standing on his landing, with no security light to illuminate your path. You trip on his door mat, causing you to fall very unceremoniously right into his front door. A loud crack follows when you drop your glass bottle. Wine cooler sprays up your pretty dress. You rub your cheek where it came into contact with the wood and you were beginning to regret showing up so drunk, and so late.

You knew he would be awake. No matter how late it seemed. His parents were clearly away, no surprise there, and you knew his house to be so lonely and terrifying at times. He struggled to sleep these days. Especially after everything that’s happened.

Steve walks down his stairs as quietly as possible, bat held in both hands and floating above his shoulder. It isn’t until he stops in front of his door, and hears a few sniffles and, shits and fucks does he almost relax. He has a half idea who it could be.

He reaches for the doorknob, still ready for anything to be outside, firm but hesitant. When he hears you say,

“Fuck, he’s gonna kill me.” Your shaky voice prompts him to open the door.

Your glassy eyes widen at his appearance and you look so sad it almost makes him forget how out of place it is for you to be here. You look at the bat and he lowers it quickly, settling it against the wall.

“Y/N? What are you..?” He looks at your wet dress that’s clinging to your legs and the dark tracks of mascara down your cheeks and his worry worsens. He isn’t sure what would’ve been worse. A demobat, ready to shred him to pieces, or you looking so lost on his front steps. He thinks he knows which one.

“Steve.” You blink, arms moving to fold over your front. Clutching the silk of your dress. “Steve.” You repeat with more cadence, “Fuck. I’m so, so sorry. I just. I don’t know what- I didn’t mean to.”

Steve starts to feel dizzier than you look, trying to catch your rambling words, “Woah, Y/N. Calm down. Breathe, okay?”

You bite your tongue, harder than he’d like to see, worrying you’d draw blood and could see you trying to even out your breathing. Maybe even holding it. You slam your eyes shut and he looks down.

A pattern of glass and wine sprayed across his steps, your red heels lying in the grass behind you. Your bare feet inches from the shards of glass.

Steve doesn’t know what to do. To say he’s shocked is an understatement. You hadn’t spoken in at least a month. Granted, he’d wanted to.

Wanted to reach out to you every time he got off the phone with Dustin and he stared at his receiver, your phone number one that was seared into his brain.

Every time he saw you at the supermarket, wondering who the flowers were for that were swinging from your hessian bag. Every time he saw you talking to Robin, wondering why you were checking out so many movies. Who had you been watching them with?

You were both so good at avoiding each other and it gave him, probably too much time, alone with his thoughts. Forming sentences and thinking of what if’s.

And now you’re here, on his goddamn front doorstep, looking sadder than he’s ever seen you. Sadder than the day you broke up. And he doesn’t know what to do.

“Are you okay?” He finally asks, also holding his breath.

“Um.” You don’t know how to reply. You don’t know why you’re here and what to do. You think you’re an idiot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make such a mess. I just sort of ended up here.”

“You walked?” Steve’s eyes widen. Steve also thinks you’re an idiot. Though with more love than you’d showed yourself.

“Yeah.” You nod and stray bits of once sprayed down hair fall into your eyes.

You move to brush them away and step to the side. Steve watches your steps with wary eyes as you inch closer to the glass.

You step again and with quick hands, Steve moves out to grab you. Holds your shoulders with a firm, but never cruel grip and you gasp.

You both stand there, balancing. “Glass.” He looks down and you swallow.

“Can I come inside? It’s cold.” You laugh. And then hiccup and Steve almost smiles too.

He’d never say no to you. Not before and not now. Though he doesn’t say yes either. Just ushers you inside, closes the door and promises himself to clean the mess once he’s figured out what to do with you.

You stand in his front entrance, padding on bare feet like you’ve never been to his house before. It pains him. You look so out of place more than he’s ever felt in his own home.

“Thank you.” You say slowly as he moves you into his kitchen and sits you down on one of the many bar stools. Your feet swing over the edge and you’re thankful to be off them. Blisters and cuts littered everywhere.

“Are you okay?” Steve leans on the opposite wall, an appropriate but also foreign length of space between you. It feels cold and you wish he’d move closer. Your fingers tingle, wanting nothing more than to reach out and grab the hem of his shirt to pull him in.

“I don’t know.” You hiccup. It wouldn’t take a genius to realise how drunk you were.

Steve looks at you again, a rip in your dress right above your hip bone, and mud and grass along the hem a few inches where it rests above your ankles. Your smudged makeup and tear stains causes a twisting in his stomach. “What’s happened?”

You don’t know. “I don’t know.”

He frets further. “Were you with someone?”

“What?” You raise your head and look at him with pinched eyebrows.

“Tonight. Were you with anyone?” He asks again and it clicks in your drunken mind.

“What? No, Steve. I was at a wedding.” You put him at ease and his shoulders lower. Not that he was asking to be an overprotective, jealous ex-boyfriend. But your appearance had him thinking stupid things.

He remembers the wedding you had told him about months ago. He then remembers he was supposed to attend. With you.

“Oh.” He says mournfully.

You can see him taking in your appearance, “It was a rough walk.”

There’s a thick and palpable silence settled over the both of you. Words are lost on Steve and so are all thoughts. He watches your feet swing and cringes at the blisters.

“How was it?” He asks. Not sure what else to say.

You blink. “Hmm?”

“The wedding. It was good?”

You don’t lie to him, “No. It was awful.”

“Oh?”

You snort, “Do you remember my Grandmother?” You ask and he nods. He remembers her with great fondness. She was lovely, and nicer to him than his own mother.

“She uh…” You laugh, almost bitterly and Steve frowns, “She thought it would’ve been us getting married next.” You probably wouldn’t have relayed anything your grandmother had said if you were sober.

Steve swallows, words even more lost than earlier and his throat hurts. Your grandmother was a smart woman. Because he really would’ve asked you to marry him if everything hadn’t gone to shit. Something that makes his heart ache and it’s the last thing he thinks about every night before he eventually falls asleep.

“She’s clearly senile.” You smile weakly and it crumples almost immediately. You can tell he doesn’t know what to say and you almost regret telling him. God, what are you doing? “Shit, okay. I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean to fuck up your night.”

“What? What do you think I would’ve been doing for you to ruin my night?” Steve leans off the wall and you hold your breath. Maybe he shouldn’t be so close, lest he does actually reach out for you and you freeze. He wouldn’t though, you're sure of it.

“Well, I’m sure you weren’t expecting to see me.” You say sheepishly and lean backwards. Steve watches you widen the gap again with sad eyes.

“Well, no.” He huffs, “But it’s okay.”

“Really?” Your voice is quiet but he can still hear you.

“Yeah.” There’s a different meaning behind his reply but you can’t place it. Was he actually wanting to see you?

You shiver at the thought. Steve sees this,

“Are you still cold?”

You cross your arms, “I’m okay.”

“You told me you were cold five minutes ago, Y/N.” He scolds though with little heat. “C’mon, I’ll find you something.”

You stammer, throat dry. “Steve, I’m okay. I’ll just walk home.”

Steve frowns, a pinch in his brow and a twitch above his lip, “You can’t walk home. It’s almost midnight.”

“I feel awful.”

Steve closes the gap again, more than last, “You feel sick? Do you need to throw up?”

You shake your head vehemently, and there’s a pinch in your stomach. He’s lovely. You miss him and you feel like you’ve ruined everything, “No. I feel bad for showing up here drunk.”

“It’s okay.” The gap is even smaller now and you can smell him. He smells of the cologne you bought him years ago. A bottle that he uses in very small amounts, not wanting to waste it too quickly. It smells of bergamot and patchouli and it has your head feeling funny. Along with the smell that comes with laying in his bed. Fresh linen and the lavender softener you had also gotten him to use after his mum had never taught him how to clean. Even when he’s had to do everything himself since he was thirteen.

“It’s not. I’m really sorry.” You can’t meet his gaze, not that you’d had much luck with doing so this entire time.

“Hey, stop.” Finally, he touches you. His knuckle hooks under your chin with a softness he always uses with you. You swallow as he brushes the small patch of skin along your jaw. You wonder if his skin is as hot as yours feels. If his heart is racing just as quick. “It's fine. Truly. Okay? I’d rather you have come here than somewhere else.”

Despite the excruciatingly long month of being apart, his touch ignites something in you. Like a blossoming flower in the pit of your tummy. Unravelling weeks of trying to move on from something you never saw ending. Something you didn’t really understand why it had ended. You think that’s what hurt most. The not knowing. It left you with too many questions and absolutely no answers.

“Steve.” You’re not sure what you’re trying to achieve by saying his name, but it feels right.

"I know." That. That is what you didn't want. Fresh hope, ready to be squashed. It's probably why it took you to be inebriated to see him again.

"Come on, you don't have to stay here. I'll drive you home." He says, fingers pressing into your skin. You can't find it in yourself to lean into or pull away from his touch. Luckily, Steve does the thinking for you and pulls away his hand to grab his keys from the bench behind you.

You shiver again, probably from the lack of his warming touch and he points at you, "Wait there. I'll be back."

Steve rushes up the stairs and rummages through his drawers for a jumper for you. The drive to yours is no longer than ten minutes, but you're cold and Steve has game. He has his girl to win back. He can't find the one you'd left the last time you were here, god knows it's crumbled in a ball under his pillow, so he decides to grab you one of his. Bold, but he sees himself as a bold guy.

He rushes back down to find you exactly where he left you, still shielding yourself from everything. He offers the yellow clothing with an outstretched hand and a warm smile.

"What's this for?" You question, but don't yet take it from him.

He offers it further, "I know you're cold."

You take it from him probably too willingly, the material soft and familiar under your fingers. He knows it’s your favourite, it was on you more than him.

You thank him as you pull it over your head, it looks ridiculous over your dress, swallowing the material a little awkwardly. But Steve thinks you’re an image in his clothes. He has to look away from you before it all gets too much.

When you both walk out to his car he has to fight the urge to grab your hand. A habit he still obviously hasn’t fallen out of. It makes his hands itch.

The drive is silent and you can't take your eyes off him. Bright lights of the streetside lamps wash him white, waving over his face and down his chest in a calming rhythm. He swallows and you think he can feel you staring but you selfishly can't look away. Your eyes trace every feature you thought you'd forgotten somehow. As if they'd change if you weren't there to observe them.

The mess of his eyebrows that are always tickled by his swooping hair. The beauty marks scattered across his face, especially the one you loved the most right above his cupid's bow, almost bleeding into the plush of his lips. You loved to kiss it and wanted to this very moment if it were natural.

Steve was begging for you to look away from him just so he could do his own selfish admiring. Reckless, staring at your ex-girlfriend whilst being behind the wheel. But the side of his face is burning where your eyes have settled for the past five minutes and he wants it to be his turn to make you squirm. He wants to pull over and admire you and count your eyelashes until he’s bored. Which would be never. He'd stare at you for a stupid amount of time, in a non-weird, completely adoring way.

He pulls up to your house in record-breaking time. If the record was for the slowest drive to your ex-girlfriend's house ever. It’s over before he wants it to be, but you need to get home and sleep. And a guy still hopelessly in love with said ex-girlfriend shouldn't be pining this hard over her, especially when he thinks she doesn't love him like she used to.

"This the one?" He laughs and you blink, remembering yourself. You smile a little too hard, afraid of being caught.

"I'd hope so." You chuckle.

He notices the lack of lights on inside your house. You're alone tonight just like he had been. "You gonna be okay?"

You reach for your seatbelt and it unbuckles with a quiet click. Shushing back up into its spot. "Yeah, thank you."

You turn until your elbow is pressed into the door and Steve stammers. "Do you- Do you want me to come inside?" He asks with only care in his heart. Nothing else. He thinks you know that.

You smile warmly and your eyes soften, "I'll be okay, Steve."

"Yeah. I- I know." He smiles too, though not as convincing as you.

You move to pull his sweatshirt off and he stops you with a gentle pull of the worn material, "Don't. Leave it on, please." He almost pleads.

"I need to shower, Steve." You laugh.

"Yeah, I know that. Just, just keep it. I know you like it."

You deflate and he lets go of the shirt, "You love it more."

"Yeah, maybe."

"I can't take it, Steve. It's your favourite."

It really is, but he loves it most when it's on you, "Okay, well. Just give it back to me next time you see me."

You almost beam, sitting bright, settled inside his clothes. Steve wishes he could take a picture of you right there. "Next time?"

"Friday. Come over and we can talk. I think we need to."

You nod, too untrustworthy of your tongue. You can't stuff this up. You won't.

You get out of the car and Steve watches your every move. He rolls down the window once it's shut. Watches you walk in your dirty dress and his sweatshirt and calls your name when you're halfway to your front steps. You turn around with a ruffle of satin and cotton, a small smile against your lips.

"What?" You call back.

"I think your Grandma was right!" The smug smile on Steve's lips is blinding and so are your eyes when you realise what he's implying.

"She's a very smart woman!"

That she is, Steve thinks. That she is.

[sunnebeam]

good for a weekend.

DRABBLE.

pairing: jung hoseok x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (yall know the drill, let's be protected irl), sex against a window, blank space au, chaebol!reader (she has issues), businessman!hoseok, profanity

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: took me a long time to choose the title for this one bc i just realized i already used a blank space lyric for jimin's drabble lol. but anyways here it is! idk the accurate word count but i think this is longer than all my other drabbles so far. enjoy <3 don't forget to share ur thoughts and give feedback ^^

When you were younger, you didn’t really understand why no one wanted to be friends with you.

Apart from your butler Yeonjun (who's paid to put up with your shit but is still genuine in his companionship nonetheless), a paintbrush and a canvas were the only real confidants you had for your pent up frustrations as a child.

Now that you're older, your isolation becomes more self-induced.

"Is it true that she's back together with Kim Taehyung again?”

“No, I heard that her family arranged for her and Park Jimin to marry next year...”

“But wasn't she spotted looking cozy with Jeon Jungkook at a bar last week?”

"No, no, I could've sworn she was hooking up with Min Yoongi—"

"Damn, she's going through men way too fast, don't you think?"

“Honestly, I think she's just a spoiled, rich playgirl."

You sigh, sitting on your chair in the art room of your very own mansion — a gift from your father after he missed out on your eighteenth birthday — while Yeonjun watches you paint your heart out.

“I haven’t seen Kim Seokjin around lately…” he muses as he steps closer to look at your work. By the looks of it, you must be feeling some pretty angry emotions.

“Silly Yeonjun,” you giggle too loudly, hand gripping your brush rather forcefully as you stare at your palette. “Seokjin and I broke up ages ago. Actually, I haven’t seen him since the haircut incident.”

Ah, the haircut incident…

Yeonjun shivers, remembering that outburst all too well. The memory of you hysterically chopping off your hair in a fit of jealousy while Kim Seokjin helplessly tried to get you to stop. That marked the end of your six-month relationship, leaving you with uneven chunks of hair and the man with a questionable restraining order.

Not your best moment, that much you can admit.

“Anyways,” you snicker, shaking your head to clear the onslaught of memories, “let’s not talk about him anymore, ‘kay?”

You stand up, leaving your painting half-finished, and walk over to the big floor-to-ceiling window.

Your mansion is the biggest in the area, filled with numerous rooms and spaces that far surpassed the amount you need for basic living. Your art room – easily the biggest room, even topping your master bedroom – houses a beautiful glass window that overlooks the property.

“Besides,” you say, clapping your hands, “we have more important things to worry about.” You turn to him and squeal, jumping up and down. “My art exhibit is in a couple of months! Can you believe it, Yeonjun?"

Your excitement has you skipping around the room in glee. You’ve been planning your own exhibit for months and now that it's drawing nearer, you feel more excited than nervous. You hope with all your heart that this exhibit could finally paint you in a proper light, letting you shine as 'the young, twenty-something art extraordinaire' instead of the 'resident fuckgirl who's only good for a weekend.'

“I know, sweetie.” Yeonjun smiles, feeling genuinely happy for you. But before he can further share in your excitement, the doorbell rings.

The noise makes you glance at your watch and smirk. Right on time.

Together, you and Yeonjun walk down the massive staircase to greet your guest, and Jung Hoseok hears you before he even catches sight of you — the clicking of your heels resonating loudly across the living room. He turns his head to the sound and smiles handsomely at the both of you.

For a few moments, none of you say a word but the electricity between you and your guest is hard to ignore.

"Shall I leave you to your business?" Yeonjun breaks the silence, directing the question at you. After all, at this point, he already knows the drill whenever you have your guests over.

You nod, never taking your eyes off Hoseok's and your butler immediately excuses himself.

Once it's just the two of you left, Hoseok holds out a hand to you. “Jung Hoseok. Pleasure to meet you."

You tell him your name, placing your hand in his and immediately, he brings it up to gently brush his lips against your knuckles. “Pleasure's all mine, Hoseok."

“Just Hobi is fine, gorgeous."

He winks at you and smiles. And just like all the other times, you feel yourself falling. Spiralling. Obsessing.

“Hobi…” you repeat, “shall we go over the terms of your company's sponsorship for my art exhibit?”

“Of course,” he responds. "Shall we discuss it in your office?"

"Oh no," you feign disappointment.

"What is it?"

“I'm terribly sorry, Hobi,” you utter, “but my office is under renovations at the moment—"

(It isn't.)

"—and I’m afraid it's not convenient for business discussions for the time being.”

“Is that so?” Hoseok muses, his eyes on your lips as you purse them contemplatively. “Should we take our discussion somewhere else, then?” He offers, not wanting to cut his visit short.

He stares right into your pretty eyes and he swears you've performed some sort of magic right then and there because he finds himself right under your spell.

“Good idea." You smile, your hand sliding up to rest on the crook of his elbow as you lead him up your stairs. “I know the perfect place.”

And that's how he found himself in your bedroom, sitting on the edge of your immaculate bed with your head bobbing up and down between his legs.

"Shit," he curses when you take him deeper in your mouth. "Yeah, that's it, gorgeous."

You look up at him with wide eyes, making sure to maintain eye contact when you swallow around him. He bites his lip at the feeling, his thumb reaching out to wipe the stray tears running down your cheek.

You look so pretty. So fucking gorgeous.

Hoseok wonders how the hell he managed to get an invitation to your bed. Sure, he's quite attractive but you're in a whole other league of your own. You're way up there on a pedestal, you and the other chaebols in your wealthy family's circle. Whereas, he's just a mere businessman trying to negotiate a sponsorship proposal.

But, fuck, he's not complaining.

You whine when he pulls you up and onto his lap, your lips releasing his dick with a pop. Feeling needy, you suckle at the soft skin of his neck while he desperately removes your clothes and then his.

"Hobi," you whimper into his neck and the sound goes straight to his already hard cock. "Need you. Please."

"Shit," he groans when you rub your leaking core against his thigh. "Hold on to me."

You comply, wrapping your arms and legs around him, and he stands up to walk the both of you towards your bedroom's clear, glass window. Just like the one in your art room, this one spans wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, and overlooks the front of the mansion.

He sets you down on your feet and turns you around so that you're looking out. Your pussy dribbles even more arousal at the sight of your enormous front gates from the distance, the thought of being seen turning you on.

"Hobi," you whine when you feel his throbbing cock prodding at your entrance, and push your ass out in response.

"Don't hold back, gorgeous," he tells you when you let out a muffled moan. "I want the whole mansion to hear you."

He enters you swiftly, making you groan loudly and press your palms against the window. He pulls back, making you whine desperately and shift your weight on your feet. He slams back inside roughly, making you scream incoherently and fuck yourself back on him.

"That's it," Hoseok groans, "fuck me back."

And you do.

He thrusts into you in rough but deep thrusts. You fuck back into him, arching your back, causing your tits to press against the glass. The added stimulation to your nipples makes you play with your clit, making figure eight motions and heightening your pleasure.

"Shit, gorgeous. You're creaming."

He sees a creamy ring of white on the base of his cock and curses, the sight pushing him closer to his climax. You only whine in response, clenching around him uncontrollably.

"Hobi, I'm gonna—"

"Cum with me, gorgeous," he coaxes you. "Now."

You obey, cumming around him while he finishes inside you. You're breathing heavily, relishing in the warmth of his release and he just chuckles affectionately at your fucked out face.

He pulls out of you and when you lead him back to your bed, he suddenly feels exhausted. His eyes can barely stay open and the last thing he remembers before sleep takes over him is your voice telling him three little words.

When Hoseok wakes up, he sees you all dressed, propped up on the headboard and glaring at him.

"What's wrong, gorgeous?" he asks groggily.

"Who's Sooah?" you ask him immediately, your voice clipped.

"What?"

You show him the unlocked phone in your hand. His phone.

"What the fuck? You went through my phone?"

"She was texting you nonstop. Who is she?"

"She's a colleague, not that I need to explain myself to you. And she's the venue coordinator for your art exhibit!"

"I don't beleve you!"

"How the fuck did you even know my password?"

"Are you cheating on me?" you demand, tears falling down your face.

"Cheating on you?" he repeats your question incredulously. "We literally just met!"

But you aren't listening to him. No, you're spiralling, clutching your hair and looking at him desperately. "Did I do something wrong? Is she prettier than me? Is she—"

"You're insane," he cuts you off, frightened at your sudden behavior. As quickly as he possibly can, he puts on his clothes and scrambles towards your bedroom door. "Fuck this shit, I'm leaving."

To his surprise, you don't follow him, though he can hear your heartbroken wails all the way to the front door. When he gets to his car, his eyes widen and his jaw drops.

"WHAT THE FUCK? YOU WRECKED MY CAR?!" he yells, the question directed at you but his exasperated eyes are trained on his wrecked vehicle.

The punctured tiles, cracked windshield, and dented exterior would cost him a fortune. But he decides that's a problem for another day. Right now, he just has to get out of here.

"Crazy bitch," he mutters when he finally exits your property gates on foot.

Back in your room, you cry your heart out while Yeonjun caresses your hair comfortingly.

Your butler knows the drill by now. You just need one day to cry all your tears, another day to forget about it, and around three more days to move on.

Which is why, a few days later, Yeonjun opens the door to a charming, dimpled face. He leads the man to the living room where you're waiting and leaves you two to your business.

"What's your name?" you ask your guest.

"Kim Namjoon," he replies, taking your hand and kissing it. "Pleasure to meet you, gorgeous."

A heartbeat. Then another.

And then you smile.

COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[theemporium]

a marauders zombie apocalypse au smsjdjdjdmdksksksksksks

thank you for requesting!🖤i have never really wrote a zombie apocalypse au before so i am so sorry in advance💀

.

You barely remembered your life before the apocalypse.

Maybe flashes here and there: sunny days, green grass and spiked drinks shared between your friends as you joked and laughed. Your memories faded as the months passed, faces became blurred and voices became distant and you were pretty sure you were starting to make some of them up because they didn’t feel real again—they didn’t feel like something you could have possibly lived through. 

You had been with a large group of people, near the start when the outbreak started to infect the country. 

You were trained by your neighbour on how to use a gun. You would go hunting with the kind woman from the cafe down the street you grew up on. You did patrols with the neighbourhood kids you grew up with. 

And then you watched each of them die until your large group only consisted of you.

You pegged your survival more on sheer dumb luck over skill, but that was a fact you were happy to ignore as long as you were alive and…well, breathing. 

After your last camp had been overrun and exposed, you had fled as quickly as you could and didn’t look back. You headed north, thinking it was best to get far away from your last few campsites and didn’t stop until you reached the border. It had been days of hiking and setting risky, temporary camps in places that brought you little to no comfort but you no longer lived in a world that could let you worry about something like that.

This was about survival, not comfort.

It had been around six days since you fled when you stumbled upon an abandoned farmhouse, the only building you had seen in the last week but you weren’t one to focus on the facts. Luck had helped you survive thus far, you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

The muscles in your legs burned from the non-stop hiking, your lower back was killing you from the supplies you had been carrying and you were pretty sure you had blisters and chafing in places you didn’t even know were possible.

It would be stupid to fall fast asleep when you hadn’t properly patrolled the area or set up camp for a short time, but the exhaustion of the last few days of travel had knocked you out before you could even scramble around you backpack for the tin of beans you had nicked further south during your journey. 

When you woke up, it was hard to ignore the three boys standing around you. 

Out of instinct, you scrambled back as you reached for the shotgun you had by your side when you slept, your finger shakily finding the trigger as you stared at the three strangers. 

“Hey, hey, calm down,” one of them said—the one in the middle with wide shoulders, messy curls and round-shaped glasses—as he held out his hands. “We didn’t mean to startle you, love.”

“Who are you?” you snapped before realising that wasn’t quite the right question. “What do you want?” 

“We don’t mean any harm,” the man to his left said, this one was taller and had sandy-brown hair. 

“We just wanna know how a pretty girl found herself in our camp,” the final boy spoke up, the face of pure arrogance and charm and you felt your stomach twist a little at the smile on his face.

“Your camp?” you repeated, eyeing them warily.

“That is what I said,” the arrogant man replied and, without a care in the world about the weapon you had pointing at him, he kneeled down in front of you and thrusted his hand out. “I’m Sirius. Sirius Black.”

“Right,” you said in response, rather than your own name.

“That’s James,” he continued as he pointed to the boy with glasses. “And that’s Remus,” he said as he pointed to the taller boy.

“You’re very talkative,” you murmured, unsure of the last time you had spoken so much. There weren't many people to speak to when you were on your own.

“You’ll get used to it,” James said with a smile.

You raised your brows in response.

“You won’t really,” Remus added with a shrug. 

You didn’t really understand these boys nor did you know them, but you had an inkling that your lonely days of travelling and surviving wouldn’t last much longer with the three of them around.

.

[atelierlili]

Roses are Red Chapter 2

The nation is still mourning Katniss Everdeen and whatever future they thought we would have together. They are not used to their toys dying right before they can sink their teeth into them.

Panem mourns. Peeta gets gifts.

The days after Katniss' funeral go by in a haze. I've been forced to stay in the capitol under orders of President Snow. The nation is still mourning Katniss Everdeen and whatever future they thought we would have together. To be honest, I'm getting tired of watching capitol hosts cry on national television every morning. They are not used to their toys dying right before they can sink their teeth into them.  

Strangely enough, I don't mind staying in the Capitol. And I guess the sentiment is shared. Since the news broke out, my family hasn't reached out to me at all. Not even my Father. Perhaps he didn't want to relive the past through me. Only sweet Delly Cartwright, my childhood friend, called. She was in tears. She knew better than anyone else what was happening - or rather, what wasn't happening- between Katniss and I. I told her the truth when my loneliness became unbearable during those six months after the 74th games. 

I doubt she was the only person in the know. The people of 12 aren't stupid. They know Katniss. They know Gale. They know of Katniss and Gale. They know better than to trust anything that the capitol gives us. Everyone knows Katniss ran off with Gale and their families. They know I've been left behind. Maybe it's better if I stay here for a while longer. I don't think I could handle the mockery or the pity in their eyes. Not right now. I'm not strong enough. 

On the flip side, it seems the Capitol can't get enough of me. They seem to think grief could be stamped out by gifts, parties and a long list of drugs. There is a room in my suite that is dedicated to all the gifts my admirers send now. As if flowers, sparkling jewels, clothes and love letters could ease the pain of a lost loved one. Like everything in the capitol, the people here think the problem can be bought with money and jewels. What do they know of grief? 

Effie looks through each and every one of them though. She always makes sure to send a thank you card and a small gift on my behalf. She is a sweetheart like that. 

"Oh Peeta! Look at this gift! It's simply marvelous, I'm positive you'll love it!" She says. 

"If it's another necktie, I'll have to decline. I think I have enough neckties to last a lifetime, Effie," I say as I work on a painting in my makeshift studio. 

I don't leave the room unless Effie pries me out for dinner, taking me to a capitol restaurant that she'd make a reservation for. She titters about all the high profile celebrities and ‘influencers” that are dying to meet me, but she’s kind enough to reject all offers in consideration of my feelings. She keeps me company on these lonely nights and her incessant chattering keeps me from staying in my head all the time. It works. I enjoy listening to hear her talk about things she cares about, even if I don't really understand how a four-point sparkle is superior to a seven-point one. I don't have a good relationship with my mother, but if I did, I wished it would be like the one I have with Effie. 

"I know you better than that, young man!" she says with a giddy squeal. 

I decided to humor her and set my brush down. I walk into the living room where Effie is in drowning boxes of gifts and flowers. When I catch her eye, she springs up and runs to me with a book pressed to her chest. 

"Look here!" She says and shoves the book into my hands. 

I give her a cocked brow because turning to the page and instantly I know Effie is right, for once. 

It's a photography book filled with pictures and locations of different places of the capital, I think. I'd find the book uninspiring if it were only the tall absurdist and bulky concrete buildings that line the city streets, but instead it's pictures of gardens, parks and the inside of what I assume is a large greenhouse. Flora and fauna take up a majority of the content, many of which are plants that I've never seen before. There is even a picture of an adorable white cat with yellow eyes. The final picture of a meadow in the dead of night underneath a sea of silver-white stars.

All at once I am hit with a wave of homesickness. I miss the nature of District 12. I miss the forest that lived beyond the fence and the sound of birds. I miss the apple tree I used to climb with my older brothers. I miss the meadow that Katniss Everdeen crosses everyday to hunt. There is a whole sketchbook of 12 in my closet back home. She's in there. A swinging braid in the wind. Always in my line of sight, but never to reach. 

I don't think I can go back and not think about her. 

A note slips out from the book and falls to the ground, breaking me from my thoughts. It's folded neatly in pretty stationary paper. 

I noticed you have an eye for nature, giving the subject of your paintings. You can find beauty in the most strange places. 

The Capitol has few places where flowers can grow unyieldingly, but I've tried to find a few. I think you might like them. Perhaps something will even inspire you. 

Sunlight will do you good. 

You have my condolences. 

C. Nightshade. 

"Who is C. Nightshade?" I hand the note to Effie, who plucks it out of my hand with a smile.

"Nightshade Enterprise!" Effie chirps, "they are the leading tech company that assists and manages the production of the Hunger Games arenas. The current president is Florence Nightshade. However, if I recall correctly, she has three daughters and the youngest is a beauty named Cynthia." 

My stomach twists at the mere mention of the Games. It won't be long until they start up again and this time I will have to play a part by being a mentor. And while it makes me sick that I've become another cog in this death machine, there is nothing I can do about it now. 

The games never stop, do they? And if I want even a slightest chance of keeping my kids alive, maybe having a friend as well connected as a Nightshade may have its perks. Sponsor money is what kept me alive in the arena. I should know better than anyone else how important that is. 

"Get me one of those pretty papers you write your letters on, Effie," I say, taking the slip of paper back from her. "I'll write this one myself. Afterwards we can get some dinner- your pick as usual." 

Effie squeals and beams brightly. "Oh, of course! I'm so glad to see your spirits lift. Even if it's the slightest bit!" 

I chuckle to myself as Effie's heels click away towards another room and reach for the remote on the coffee table. I like the sound of chatter as I go about the suite. My home was always busy. Someone was always doing something, whether it be my brothers wrestling behind the house or my father baking in the kitchen. Sometimes I like to turn on the holo just so I could have something playing in the background. 

I flip through the channels until I've reached the national broadcasting channel and watch Katniss Everdeen kiss Gale Hawthrone. 

Chapter 3 >>

[usmsgutterson]

 DREAMS-k.b x gn! reader

Okay! Last day of this event and final fic that’s coming out before I run back into my little writer cave and start figuring out a balance between novel writing, requests, and managing to keep myself together when the chaos starts picking up in these next few months. Requests will likely start coming out in the upcoming week, though if not then, it’ll be around the middle of the week after. Thats a pretty rough estimate because I have no actual idea how busy my life is gonna get by the time that April hits, but we’ll see. 

I meant to post this yesterday but by the time I’d remembered, it was four in the morning and I was tired as hell because my brain cannot handle staying up any later than three thirty unless I’ve gotten a nap or two in beforehand lol. 

Fic type- I’d,, I’d classify this as fluff with angsty undertones? Maybe slight hurt/comfort, I honestly can’t really say

Warnings- mentions of drowning, mentions of death, mentions of heights (reader has a fear of them because I projected a teeny tiny bit lol) and mentions of falling

Over the two weeks leading up to the final ten days of winter, Kaz Brekker had been experiencing dreams. 

They weren’t his normal dreams of darkness, dreams that had him convinced he’d spent his sleeping hours in the depths of the Fold, nor were they the nightmares that occasionally waltzed back through his subconscious to remind him of all that he’d lost, all of the things he had to lose. 

They were weird dreams, to say the least of it. He would find himself talking to someone whom he’d never met in some of them. He knew more about a person who did not exist than he knew of some of the newer recruits into the Dregs. He knew more about a person who did not exist than he knew of even those who’d been in the Dregs for more than two months, even those who’d been there longer than five or six. 

Others were a lot like his occasional nightmares. He would find himself talking to the person he’d never met one moment, find himself drowning in the next. He would find the person his subconscious had made up for him to his right, drowning but looking more at peace with it than he had. 

“How long have they been a thing?” Jesper asked shortly after Kaz had accidentally alluded to the dreams whilst talking to him and Inej. They were heading to Fifth Harbor, where they would meet in a cafe, negotiate the terms of ownership for a building that had once been Dime Lions owned but was to be owned by the Dregs since Pekka had left. 

“Nearly two weeks,” Kaz said. “Why?”

“Ravkan legend,” Inej said. “Suli legends have come from it, so I know what Jes is referencing.”

“It’s not a legend,” Jesper said. “It’s a phenomenon. The fact that it’s gift from the Ravkan saints, the idea that it was given to the Suli by their ancestors, is where the myth and legend aspects come in. Nina talked about it after the Ice Court, I think. Mentioned that she’d been having dreams about Matthias and then it felt like they were soulmates? There is literal scientific evidence behind it. The dreams are supposed to be a kind of prologue.”

“Prologue to what?” 

“A life with someone whom the universe deems your other half,” Inej said. “Your confidante, your strength when you are weak. It’s said to be a gift from the saints, one only given to those who are deemed worthy.” 

Kaz scoffed. The idea seemed ludicrous to him. Why would he, someone who’d spent the broader half of his life committing more crimes than he could ever be redeemed for, end up with a soulmate? Why would the saints think to give him one, if not an attempt to change his character? 

“I am not worthy of saintly gifts,” Kaz said. 

Jesper shrugged. “We know that. The saints probably know as much, too, but you were chosen at random.”

“Not everyone in a relationship knows that the person they’re with is their soulmate,” Inej added. “The prologue, Jesper called it, is a two week grace period before you meet them. You skip the get-to-me questions in your waking hours by having to deal with them in your sleeping ones. Your subconscious sets the scene, and you just have to deal with it. Be grateful, Kaz. You might not think yourself deserving, but the saints, for some reason, do.” 

“And what if you’re wrong?” Kaz asked.

Jesper shrugged, and Inej followed with the same.

“Then the saints have chosen someone different, and you may be right about the fact that you do not deserve their gifts at all,” Inej said. The trio walked into the cafe where the negotiations were to occur, and Kaz let the matter rest. 

-

A week later, the dreams continued, and Kaz continued to wonder what their root was, tried to pinpoint some reason that they kept on. Some part of him had begun believing Inej and Jespers words about the phenomenon, and after a bit of reading, Kaz may have found himself a religious man after all, though he did keep to pessimistic habits rather than give in to the slightest hint of optimism. 

Then, on the day of the seventeenth of March, Kaz found himself yearning to go to the bookstore that’d opened up near the East Stave. He’d read all of the books that lined the shelves he kept in his office, and he needed something new. He’d never been much of a reader as things were, so it really shouldn’t’ve concerned him that he’d read all of the books he’d owned, but on that particular day, it did. 

He worried for the off chance that he would find himself with off time and choose to spend that time reading a book, only to find that each book on his shelves had been read two or three times already, so he gave in. He walked through the East Stave until he was finally in the bookstore and could breathe again. 

“You don’t seem like the reader type,” came the voice of someone Kaz knew had to be the owner. “I mean that respectfully, of course. Businessmen and criminals who dress like them are normally the ones doing the writing.” 

Kaz blinked a bit startled as he realized that the voice sounded familiar. It sounded like the voice of the person he’d been hearing in his dreams. 

The person who’s favorite book was by an author who’d been dead for centuries, though the book had never quite become a classic like plenty of the others. The person who yearned for a life in the countryside, the person who loved the rain and, despite their yearning for a quiet life of many beautiful sunsets in a place unaffected by light pollution, loved the city. 

“I’m not,” Kaz said. “Not normally. I’ve read all of the books on my shelves. Thought I’d come round, pick up something for the next time I have time to spend reading a book.” 

Kaz turned to look at you, and the realization came twice. 

Oh. It was you, after all. The person with whom he’d spent more than fifty of his dreaming hours. The person with whom he’d conversed, the person whom he occasionally dreamt about losing.

Oh. It was you, after all. The person who knew how Kaz took his coffee, the person who helped him figure out plans for heists when he was stuck and could not stop thinking about it even in dreams, the person whos laugh Kaz would’ve died to listen to even once in person. 

“I’ve read the Ravkan tales of phenomena,” you said. “I’ve listened to Suli people talk about it and how they consider it a gift, not from their saints, but from the people who came before them. I’ve listened to the Zemeni talk about it like it is the most sacred thing known to humanity. I’ve seen the Kaelish people discuss the dreams like they are fictious. I’ve read read equations written out in some attempt to understand it by a couple of Shu Hans old kings and queens, and I’ve seen the Kerch people try to monetize it relentlessly since I came last week. All of them describe a feeling.” 

Kaz nodded. He’d read up on it, too. “The feeling when two souls meet after so long spent talking in dreams. It feels like--”

“Like you already know your soulmate. The dreams are what that’s for,” you said. “You learn about them what it is that you need to know, what the universe wants you to know, and then you meet them and you learn the rest of it.”

“The purpose of the dreams is to get the ‘get-to-know-me’ Q&A out of the way, and that’s done well enough,” Kaz said. “The meeting is the part where you realize that the saints, the universe, whoever it was that decided to pair soulmates together, were right. You look at them and you just know, beyond any rationale. You look at them, and you think--”

“The universe did not get this wrong,” you said. 

Kaz nodded. “Yeah. You and your fear of heights recognize that well enough.” 

You shot him a very pointed look. “This from the man who has had me drowning several nights in a row the past week.” 

The dreams wherein Kaz was drowning and panicked, but you were relaxed, like you knew your time had come and you were accepting the death that awaited. Kaz had felt much the same in the dreams wherein both of you fell, calm and collected even though all that he could feel around him was air as he rapidly moved toward the ground. 

He met your gaze, letting a smirk grace the right side of his lips. 

“Well then, it’s lovely to meet you. My name is Kaz Brekker. I don’t recall ever having introduced myself in our sleeping hours.” 

“Y/N,” you introduced. “It’s your lucky day, Mr. Brekker. Soulmates get a half-off discount. Store wide.” 

Kaz scoffed. “Lucky me,” he said. “Looks like I’ll be coming round often, then.”

You laughed, and Kaz felt his heart give a flutter. “Can’t wait.”

Kaz hummed. “Nor can I, so it seems.” 

It was the start of the best thing that Kaz Brekker would ever have, the start of something incredible. 

[hetalianskywalker]

Day 4: The Lobster

Pairing: Mer Hardcase x Reader

Summary: A lobster starts talking to you.

Author’s Note: May The 4th Be With You! Have a wild Hardcase.

Warnings: A bit of cursing, but I think that’s it.

Word Count: 1543

Prompt: If a lobster talks, we throw it back, that’s the rule. Don’t ever strike a deal with one, no matter what it says is written in the stars.

Prompt 2711 by deepwaterwritingprompts

“If a lobster talks, we throw it back, that’s the rule. Don’t ever strike a deal with one, no matter what it says is written in the stars.” This piece of advice was one of the first things you were told upon starting work on this lobster boat. You had just shrugged it off as old wives tales until right now.

“Hello! I’m Hardcase!” Oh shit. That lobster is talking and waving a claw at you. You had been sorting through the lobsters in the trap to see which would be thrown back or taken to market. He was the last one in there and he just started talking. Somewhere in the back of your mind you remember what the captain had told you, but instead you stand there frozen in disbelief.

He tilts his had after a moment, seeming a bit worried.

“You okay?” The lobster scurries over to you and you realize this isn’t a dream when he gently pokes you.

“I…” You shake your head before slowly looking over your shoulders. Thankfully no one had noticed anything amiss yet. “I’m fine, but you need to go.”

“What? But!?” You gently scoop him up to toss him back into the water.

“Sorry, them’s the rules.”

“You can look the other way this one time! I just need some help getting home.”

“Isn’t the ocean your home?”

“Well… kinda. But that’s different. I’m actually a Mer clone.” He begins speaking a little too quick, but you keep up. “I think I died at the battle of Umbara. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I need to get back to my brothers.”

“What the…” You just blink; your mind trying to process that. “That battle happened…”

Your captain calls your name. You turn and put Hardcase behind your back, giving him a tired smile. He asks you if everything is alright and you quickly give the excuse of vertigo, but show him the empty lobster trap. You feel Hardcase cuddle into your hands, relaxing in your grip to not attract attention.

Thankfully the captain buys it, he yells over his shoulder to go drink some water or something before getting back to work. You quickly move out of everyone’s line of sight as you feel Hardcase climb up to your shoulder. You should throw him back in the water, but he hasn’t asked for anything unreasonable or even to make a deal with you. You sigh and wipe your hand down your face. You’re really going to help a lobster claiming he was a Mer huh?

“Can you find a place to stay hidden until we make it to shore?” The way the lobster began to hop around in excitement, even though you can’t read the emotions on his face, makes you smile.

“Six months!?” He leans over the side of the bucket of sea water you have him in. It turns out sneaking him off ship hadn’t been too hard, but figuring out how to help him next was. Sadly though, explaining how long he had been “gone” for had to come first. “I’ve been dead six months!?”

You nod, rubbing your temple. You had remembered hearing about the battle since it wasn’t too far from your home. How three Mer clones had snuck aboard a massive separatist battle ship and blown it up. Meeting one stuck in the body of a lobster is making your head hurt honestly.

“I’ll take it that you don’t remember being a lobster that long?” Hardcase shakes his head as you sigh.

“I got blown up. Then, I don’t know, I must have been in and out of consciousness for way longer than I thought. Next thing I knew I was crawling around on the ocean floor.” He hops back down into the water. You walk over to see him pacing around in the bucket, almost making you laugh.

“So what now?” Hardcase looks up at you, but continues to pace. “Do you still want to get back to your old battalion?”

“Yes.” He answers with so much determination and stops pacing, but then he seems to get a bit nervous. His legs begin quickly tapping continuously against the bucket floor. “But, we… we need to make a deal.”

“No.”

“Please!” Hardcase quickly responds. “While there is some truth to the legends, it’s just to turn me back. The other options would be going to Coruscant for Jedi help or Mandalore for Mer help. You don’t have the resources and I need to get back to my brothers.”

You groan, frowning down at the lobster as he looks up at you. Perhaps you should have just thrown him back in the water as your captain had told you, but you feel guilty as soon as you think about it.

“What would a deal entail?” The bucket tips over and the water spills all over your living room floor as he jumps with joy.

“Oops.” He looks up at you sheepishly, standing in the puddle. You should be mad, but laugher comes out instead. Soon you both are and you have a feeling he would be blushing if he could. He helps you clean as best he can as he explains what he knows about his current predicament.

It’s an old mer legend that he had heard a couple times from one of his trainers. Sometimes if a sacrifice of one’s life is truly selfless, the ocean allows an exchange of souls: a second chance. However the consciousness of the Mer is easily overpowered by the instincts of the creature they inhabit, plus a whole host of other things that can go wrong, making the process extremely dangerous.

“While I might be able to get help, the only way to really have a Mer body again is…”

“If you exchange something equivalent.” Your mind wanders back to the old myths. It’s a lot easier to understand with the lobsters being trapped Merpeople; desperation can bring out the worst in any being.

“Basically. How did he describe it…” Hardcase takes a moment to think, tapping his claw against his head. “Permanent transformation takes a lot of magic. From a normal human…”

He abruptly stops. It’s odd watching him go completely still as horror washes over him.

“Nevermind.”

“But-?!”

“I’m not going to ask that of you.”

The next plan is to help him get to Mandalore or Coruscant. However that becomes impossible as a battle begins to wage in the waters around your island. The canons shake your house, but your companion makes you laugh as he tries to catch as many glimpses of the fight as he can. The off and on squirmishes last for weeks and gives you time to get to know Hardcase.

Then finally, the separatists land on your island; the Mer clones and the republic had lost this area. People are fleeing from your village; either heading more inland to hide or risking being caught by a battleship while trying to flee in a boat. However, you have one other option left.

“Hardcase, either way I’m dead. I’d rather cut down my life span and have both of us survive this than both of us dead.” You hiss as you both hide in your house. Hardcase stares up at you before clinking his claws together.

“There is one other way.” He laughs what you have now come know as his nervous laugh. “But-but…”

“Case, please.” You can hear the eerie stop of the separatist golems in the distance.

“Ifwemarrytheoldmerway,oursharedenergyshouldletmehavemytrueformagain.” It takes you a moment to make out the rushed sentence and your face burns scarlet.

“Wh-what do we do?”

“We can still make a run for the ocean…” He fidgets again. “If you don’t want to. Cause this will be permanent.”

“Hardcase.” You say his name softly and full of affection. “It would be my honor. Now what do we do?”

The world goes silent a moment before he is giddy with excitement. You can’t help but smile as he urgently tells you that all you have to do is say four vows together in Mando’a. He says them first and then you say them together. The soft shimmer of ocean magic glows around both of you. You force your eyes shut; your stomach swirling with anxiety.

“Time to go, sweetheart.” The excitement in his tone makes you smile. A pair of arms swiftly picks you up bridal style. You clench your jaw to stop a sound from slipping out as he begins running for the beach. You finally open your eyes and look up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. The white and blue armor glitters in the last rays of the drowning sun. He gives you a smile far brighter as his boots hit the water; time slows for a second as you drink up the bit of face you can see through the t-face of the helmet. Your eyes linger on the bit of blue tattoo you can see.

“Hey, get back here!” One of the golems yells at the two of you. You both only laugh as you feel him begin to shift into his Mer form; the familiar feeling of sea magic engulfs the both of you as he dives into deeper water.

[erimeows]

Just A Little Longer

Seven smiles as he sits in his neon green sports car, golden eyes trained on none other than Yoosung Kim. 

The two of them are at a drive in movie. Though Yoosung is enraptured in the plot of the live action LOLOL movie, eating the snacks they snuck in and gazing at the screen with his sparkling violet eyes, Seven couldn’t care less about the showing. Instead, he watches Yoosung, his heart fluttering as he sips on his soda. The other man is wearing Seven’s hoodie, that of which Seven insisted on wrapping around him.

It’s not Seven’s fault that Yoosung decided to wear a t-shirt in the middle of fall. What else was he supposed to do? Let his good friend freeze?

Yoosung is completely distracted, not so much as sparing Seven a glance. Yoosung has been yapping about seeing this movie for months, so Seven wanted to surprise him by taking him to this early showing at the drive in theater. He’s glad that it seems to have paid off. 

Seven pays just enough attention to the movie to engage when Yoosung tries to talk to him about it, but for the most part, he’s focused on Yoosung.

He’s not sure what to do about their… Situation. They’ve known each other for years now, and for all of those years, Yoosung has loved Seven. Seven can just tell. Yoosung radiates love and affection in his reactions to Seven’s jokes, in his constant reminders for Seven to eat healthy, in his constant invitations for them to spend time along together. Yoosung wears his emotions openly, unlike Seven, and it’s something Seven has always admired about him. But, back then, when this first started, he assumed it was a puppy dog crush. They were young and stupid, naive and dumb, only having just met.

Now, they’ve been friends for six years. Things have changed. Mint Eye has been shut down, Yoosung has finished school, Saeran has been living with Seven for years, Yoosung opened his own veterinarian clinic and moved out of his school dorms months ago. Everything is just… Different. Yet, despite both of them having grown up so much, Yoosung hasn’t outgrown his puppy dog crush… Because that’s never what it was. Seven realizes that. Seven realizes that Yoosung is in love with him, and has been since they’ve known each other. Even worse, Seven realizes that he’s in love with Yoosung, too. He always has been.

Before, he had excuses. He didn’t think he deserved someone as innocent as Yoosung. He didn’t want to allow himself to be happy until Saeran was safe. 

Now, he has no excuses. He loves Yoosung and Yoosung loves him. But, how could he say anything about his feelings after all of this time…? 

Slowly but surely, the movie comes to an end. Everyone leaves as the credits roll, but Seven doesn’t bother, knowing that Yoosung wants to stay until the very last second in case there’s any bonus scenes included. Seven doesn’t mind. It’s nice to see Yoosung happy after everything they’ve been through. Eventually, Yoosung finishes his snacks and gets out of the car to throw his trash in the nearby bin. Seven keeps a close eye on him as the last few people in the lot drive onto the near-empty street.

“Well, it’s about that time,” Seven lets out a small whistle before putting his seatbelt back on and turning to Yoosung. “We better get you home! But don’t worry, I’ll take the scenic route.”

Yoosung nods, to which Seven speeds out of the lot. He lets the roof of his convertible down so the wind can blow through their hair. Yoosung lets out a nervous laugh and clutches his seatbelt. Seven takes the long way, avoiding the busy roads with other cars and blasting music he doesn’t really like because he knows it’s Yoosung’s favorite.

“S-Seven, isn’t it dangerous to speed at night like this?”

“Oh, c’mon, you know I’m a good driver! We’ll be fine! Plus, I’m only, like, ten over the limit,” Seven teases while slowing down. As amusing as it is, he doesn’t want to mess with Yoosung and upset him when the night is going so well. “Don’t tell me you’re scared?”

“Shut up,” Yoosung scolds. The blush that takes over his cheeks glows light pink underneath the moonlight that shines on them. “We should get back soon, I have work tomorrow!”

“Fine, fine! I’ll take you back, ‘kay?” Seven laughs.

With that, Seven drives them back to Yoosung’s home, the upbeat pop pouring from the speakers filling the silence. They pull into Yoosung’s driveway. Seven pauses- he had wanted to tell Yoosung tonight. But Yoosung seems happy, and different, and Seven wonders for a moment if he could be wrong.

Yoosung takes his seatbelt off and glances towards Seven. Seven quickly talks himself out of his previous thoughts- Yoosung’s face is bright red and he’s staring at Seven as if the hacker makes the world spin. The utter love and adoration Yoosung feels for Seven radiates off of him, and briefly, Seven wonders if Yoosung can tell how he feels, too. 

No, there’s no way. Yoosung isn’t nearly so perceptive of others. Someone could send him a love letter and he still wouldn’t get the message. 

“Alright,” Yoosung nods and grabs the door handle to open it so he can exit the car. “I had a lot of fun, Seven. Thanks for taking me.”

Seven wants to say something so, so desperately. But he can’t- at least, he can’t say anything that matters. All he does is make another joke.

“Sure thing! Let’s do it again when LOLOL dies in ten years and they release another shitty live action movie to try to revive it,” He quickly answers with the biggest grin he can muster, even as disappointment courses through his veins.

Why couldn’t he just say something?

“Heh, yeah… Drive safe, okay?”

“No promises!” Seven exclaims with a laugh and a wink. Yoosung averts his eyes and laughs back before turning away and heading to his front door. As soon as Yoosung is out of sight, Seven’s smile falls. “God dammit…”

~

Yoosung returns to his home with his heart beating fast, his cheeks bright red, and a huge grin taking over his face. It’s silly, really- he’s an adult now, an adult with a job and a house and responsibilities- yet being with Seven makes him feel like he’s still that young kid he was so many years ago, with so much to be excited about. 

As Yoosung shuts the door behind him, locking it and leaning back against the wooden frame, he hears his phone go off. He pulls the device out of his pocket and slides down to sit on the floor so he can turn it on. The notification bar shows that it’s a text from Seven- probably just to check that he got inside of the house safely, or maybe a meme. Yoosung opens the text with a smile, only for said smile to twist into a frown as soon as he sees the words displayed on his screen.

707: Are you…

707: Still in love with me?

Upon reading the text over again, Yoosung’s racing heart stops. 

Seven knows.

How long has Seven known?

Is this some sort of prank? No, it can’t be. There’s no ridiculous fake proof or emojis sent with the messages. Nothing to indicate that Seven is just shitting around like he normally does.

Yoosung panics and tries to type up a response. At first, he thinks he should play stupid with a simple ‘what’, but then he realizes Seven is smarter than that and backtracks. Should he try to lie? Be honest? Explain everything? Yoosung has no idea. He’s never done anything like this before, let alone with someone as unpredictable as Seven.

Finally, Yoosung manages to send something back.

Yoosung★: Yeah.

Part of him expects to get blocked. Part of him expects for his phone to ring.

Instead, he receives no response at all. Bubbles pop up on the screen to indicate that Seven is typing, only to fade into nothingness, followed by Seven going offline.

Tears well up in Yoosung’s eyes as he thinks about what could’ve given him away. Did he do something tonight to tip Seven off? Was it a text he sent? Maybe one time that their flirting in the chatroom got a little too real? Or has Seven known for a long time? The pleasant blush that warmed his cheeks moments before now feels like a roaring fire, consuming his entire body in a scalding, humiliation-induced heat. 

And then, to make things worse, there’s a knock on the door. Yoosung nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound. He checks the time to see that it’s already past ten.

Who would even come at this time? Agitated, hurt, and confused, Yoosung puts his phone back in the pocket of his hoodie- this stupid ass hoodie Seven insisted on draping over his shoulders, this stupid ass hoodie that smells like cologne. Yoosung pauses. Since when does Seven wear cologne? Hell, why does it matter? 

It does smell nice…

Yoosung shakes his head and opens the door. Surprisingly enough, Seven is the one standing on his porch, pale cheeks as red as his hair and golden eyes trained on Yoosung’s cat-themed welcome mat. 

“I thought you left?” Yoosung questions.

“Uh, no, I was waiting for you to get inside like I always do,” Seven murmurs. Yoosung had no idea Seven did that. To be honest, Yoosung always assumed Seven sped off as soon as he was out of the passenger’s seat. “But then I texted you that and… Well, I never left, so I decided to just come talk to you.”

“Um, here,” Yoosung opens the door wide enough for Seven to come inside. 

Rather than entering the house, however, Seven stays on the porch, twiddling his thumbs. 

“I’m sorry,” The redhead starts. Yoosung winces at that. Honestly, if a rejection is coming like he suspects, he would’ve rather had it happen over text. At least that way, Seven wouldn’t have to see his pathetic post-rejection blubbering. “I’ve, uh, I’ve known for a while… I guess it was messed up to just text you like that instead of telling you when we were hanging out…”

“You really knew all this time?” Yoosung starts. He wishes it weren’t that way- it’s embarrassing to think back on all the times he and Seven have been hanging out, with Yoosung trying so hard to hide his feelings and Seven completely aware. Yoosung prays for a hole to manifest beneath his feet and suck him in, away from this awkward situation. “How could you not say anything!? You just love humiliating me, don’t you? Or is this just another one of your pranks?”

“No, no, Yoosung, it’s-” Seven enters the house at that point, pushing the door closed behind him and stuttering over his words. Yoosung isn’t sure whether to be angry, embarrassed, sad, or… Something else. He has no idea what’s going on, at least not until Seven grabs him by the wrist and drags him in for a hug. “Please believe me when I say that I’m being serious for once, I… I return your feelings. I love you, and I’m not joking about that.”

Yoosung lets out a sigh of relief. Still, he’s baffled. If Seven knew, why wouldn’t he have said anything?

“I’m just- why? Why didn’t you tell me if you knew?”

“I had a lot going on,” Seven explains, and it’s true. Between his childhood, the Prime Minister, Saeran, Mint Eye, and the agency, Seven has had a lot going on in recent years. Though Yoosung is frustrated at the time wasted, he knows full well that Seven wouldn’t have been able to handle a relationship on top of any of that. “But I should’ve told you, I… I mean, I don’t know, I didn’t expect you to hold feelings for me for this long either. I’ve played some pretty mean jokes on you. Not only that, but you’re so successful now, and you’ve lead a happy, normal life. I didn’t think you’d want to be with someone like me, but lately…”

“Seven,” Yoosung pulls away, brow furrowed. “It’s weird that you thought I wouldn’t have loved you before… My feelings for you have always been the same, even when you were struggling, and even now that I’m ‘successful’!”

And Seven’s hugging him again. This time, he embraces Seven in return. He melts into the hug, enjoying the feeling of Seven’s arms wrapped around him tightly, the feeling of one of Seven’s hands gently running over his back. For a moment, it’s quiet again. The silence is only broken by Seven, who says-

“Thank you, Yoosung.”

“It’s late,” Yoosung murmurs. “Why don’t you stay? We can watch another movie. This time, it can be one you actually like instead of LOLOL…”

Seven shakes his head.

“Let’s just stay like this for a little longer.”

And Yoosung smiles.

“Okay. Just a little longer.”

[ask-good-cop-bad-cop]

"Heart"

Six months. It had been six months since Benny had come up to them, asking if they would explore the city with him. Six months since the astronaut had set out to befriend them. And they only continued to grow closer every day.

It was nothing short of a miracle. Bad Cop had certainly done his best not to be such an obstinate grouch, while they were helping with the clean-up and reconstruction efforts, but neither of them had expected any of the Master Builders would continue to interact with them once everything had settled back down. But Benny had apparently seen something worthy in them, and took it upon himself to keep in touch.

They didn’t know how to deal with this feeling. Good Cop was well used to infatuation, but this was… This was something different. Bigger. It made their chest ache and their heart feel like it was about to burst, it felt so full. They got butterflies in their stomach every time they so much as thought of him.

“Bad.” Good Cop said aloud. “I think we’re really, actually, genuinely in love with him.”

Bad Cop tried not to feel panic to hear that too-big feeling acknowledged so firmly. It wouldn’t last. All of Good’s previous partners had gotten bored of them, or fed up with him, and left. Benny would eventually wise up and do the same. And it would hurt, in a way none of the others did.

“I really don’t think this time is going to be like all the others.” Good Cop soothed. “He’s already stayed by our side twice as long as all the others. I think it might be for real this time. Bad, I want to tell him.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to hear it? What if he’s just been- entertaining us, this whole time?”

“I really don’t think it’s like that-”

“Don’t think what’s like what?”

They jumped in surprise to hear the unexpected voice. They hadn’t even noticed their door opening, or the astronaut letting himself in like usual.

“Benny.” Good Cop gasped in surprise. “Goodness, is it really five-thirty already?” Benny gave him an amused nod.

“So what were you two arguing about?”

“Um. You.” Good Cop admitted. Benny looked surprised.

“Did I do something?”

“Not at all. Bad’s just worried about… what you might do.”

“…You think I’m going to break up with you.”

“You’ve already been with us for so much longer than all the other people I dated.” Good Cop said hesitantly. “But it feels… inevitable. We know we’re complicated. We’ve never been anyone’s ideal partner.”

Benny was silent as he contemplated their words. As the seconds ticked by into a minute, then two, the worry started to gnaw at Good Cop as well.

“I have a confession to make.” The astronaut said at last. “I’ve never been anyone’s ideal partner either.”

“Oh, Benny, how could you ever think such a thing about yourself, you’re wonderful-”

“And so are you.” Benny interrupted, voice filled with determination. “This is about as long as any of my relationships have ever lasted too, you know? All my past boyfriends said I was ‘too much’. But you take my energy levels in stride. You’ve never told me to shut up, or otherwise made me feel like you want me to stop talking when I get going about spaceships. You’ve never poked fun or made me feel foolish for my anxieties. I feel like I’m in a really good place with you guys. If this relationship ever does come to an end, I’m not going to be the one to end it.”

Good Cop stared at him for a long moment. “…Did I break you?” Benny nudged.

“We love you.” Good Cop blurted.

Benny blinked in surprise. “Oh.” His eyes widened and lit up as their words sank in a moment later. “Oh! Really?!” Good Cop bit his lip and nodded. He let out a surprised “oof” a second later when Benny threw himself at them and wrapped his arms around them tightly.

“I love you too. Both of you.” He murmured into their shoulder. “So you’re just going to have to get used to having me around.”

Good Cop smiled and hugged him back. “We like the sound of that.”

@coppernauts--week

[brownieracha]

My best friend

a/n: Hi @burningupp ✨ Surprise!!! I hope you like it, it was written with much love

Pairing: Seungmin x fem reader

Genre: friends to lovers, fake dating

wc: 8k

Summary: it's time again to go visit your best friend Seungmin, but this time the visit is a little different. Seungmin and you have to fake date for a business party he has. But it's okay cause you're only best friends, right?

I hop on the train, I almost didn’t make it on time, just like every time I go to the city. Ever since last year I’ve been going once every two months. I take the same train at the same time and every time I just barely make it. I haven’t missed it once though. I leave my bags in their place and go to find my seat, I put my earphones on and play my favorite playlist. I have one hour until I see Seungmin again.

Ever since he moved to the city due to work, we made the promise to visit each other at least once every two months so that distance doesn’t damage our friendship. We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember.

One day when I was in kindergarten, a boy asked me to play with him, and the rest is history. He lived right across the street from me and since we first met on that day, we couldn’t be away from each other.

The inseparable best friend duo; we went to school together, we went to our first party together where we had our first drink and got very drunk, we even learned how to drive together. We’ve been there for each other whenever we needed someone; he was there when I first got my heart broken and I was there when it happened to him.

The train arrives just on time, and I see Seungmin waiting for me on the platform, but he’s alone. He’s had a girlfriend for the past six months and she has always come to pick me up with him. I collect my bags and run to meet him. Even though we saw each other last month, I’ve missed him so much.

“Min!” I hug him tightly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too Y/N,” he says softly. “Let’s go?” he picks up one of my bags and we go to his car. Once we get into his car, I decide to ask him about Yuna.

“Hmm,” is all he says in response. We stay in silence the rest of the ride to his apartment. I find myself wondering what could have happened between them.

We arrive at his apartment, which I’ve always loved. It’s not that big but it’s really cozy; I’ve always found the view of the city from his balcony very soothing. I leave my bags in the spare room and join Seungmin in the kitchen.

“Hey Min.” He doesn’t look so good. “Is everything okay?” I know something is wrong the moment I look at his face. A single teardrop is running down his cheek. I immediately rush to hug him.

“I’m here for you, you can tell me what happened and maybe I can help you.” We go to the living room to sit on the sofa, and he grabs a box of tissues on the way there.

“This is not easy for me to say out loud,” he starts, “but I feel like I need to get this off of my chest somehow.” He takes a deep breath. “As you’ve probably guessed, it has to do with Yuna. She and I are no longer together, and I feel like shit,” he sobs.

“It’s okay, take your time.” I put my hand on his shoulder to comfort him. “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you’re not ready”.

“No, I need to tell someone. I haven’t talked about it yet.” He looks at me, tears are now falling down his cheeks. I feel so bad for him.

“Basically, I caught her making out with one of my friends, well, ex-friend now,” he chuckles lightly, and I can feel the hurt in his words.

“What?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, not because I don’t trust Seungmin, but because I’d never thought Yuna would have done that. They seemed like a really happy couple, with their little issues like every couple has, but overall, a healthy relationship.

“Yes,” he sighs. “I also couldn’t believe it. To be honest, she had been acting weird for the last few weeks. I didn’t think much about it, until I caught them together.” He wipes the tears off his face and continues. “We were at a party together, she disappeared to go to the bathroom and after a while I went after her ‘cause she wasn’t returning and that’s when I saw her making out with Changbin. I’ve never run so fast from somewhere.”

“I can’t believe she did that!”

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe my eyes either. I went back home, cried my eyes out for two days, and here we are.” He looks devastated, I can’t even begin to imagine how he must have felt. “She tried contacting me to explain herself. Turns out this had been going on for a whole-ass month!” He raises his voice. “A whole month, Y/N! I’ve been a fool for a month!”

I don’t know what to say, what to do. I stay silent while he starts to get pissed at the situation. I feel like he needs to get the feelings off of his chest.

“And then,” he gets up from the sofa, “THEN she proceeds to say ‘Sorry, I wish this didn’t have to end like this, blah blah blah.’ I’m so stupid, I’m so stupid! I loved her Y/N, I really did!” Seungmin starts crying again. “I was even planning to propose! Oh my god I’m stupid stupid stupid!”

“You’re not, Min! You’re not stupid, you were in love.” I try to calm him down; I’ve never seen him act this way, and it breaks my heart seeing him like that. “You trusted her, you never thought this could happen, you’re not stupid, Min.”

I get up and help him sit back down while I pat his shoulder to help him relax. He drops his head between his hands while he keeps crying. We stay like that for a few minutes, the only noise in the room being his sobs.

The next morning, I wake up later than usual. It takes me some seconds to adjust to the sunlight that is coming through the curtains, I must have slept in. I get up and go to the kitchen to make some breakfast, I need some coffee to start the day. There’s no sign of Seungmin so he must be still sleeping; after how he was feeling last night, he needs the rest. It only takes me a couple of minutes to prepare my breakfast and I decide it’s a good idea to go to the balcony to have it. It’s a really pretty view.

“Morning,” I hear Seungmin’s sleepy voice in the background.

“Morning Min,” I turn around to greet him back. “I made coffee.”

He picks up a mug and pours some coffee in it, and then he joins me on the balcony.

“How are you doing?” I ask him as soon as he sits down. “Feeling any better?” I’m truly concerned, I can’t start to imagine how he must have felt for the past couple of weeks.

“I’m fine, Y/N. I feel so much better after venting last night.” He smiles lightly. “Thank you for being here.”

When he says that I can only smile at him for an answer, I don’t know what to say. A strange feeling appears in my chest.

“So, what do you want to do today?” Seungmin claps his hands after a few silent minutes of me smiling and him just looking in the distance. “Why don’t we go shopping? We could go to that stationery shop you like so much!”

“Yes! I would actually love to go; I need some stuff from there!”

He raises his eyebrow at my words.

“Do you really need things, or do you just want to buy them?”

“Maybe,” I cackle.

After shopping for what felt like hours, laughing at inside jokes, and overall having a great time, we decide to stop for coffee since we were both tired and in need of energy.

We go to a pretty café, it had poufs instead of chairs, and small tables. It had really cozy vibes. I order the coffee while Seungmin goes to sit. I carry the coffee back to where he was sitting.

“Here is y-” I stop talking as soon as I notice he’s on the phone. I sit on the pouf which is surprisingly comfy, and I take a sip of my latte.

“… I don’t know if I’ll be able to go, I’ll have to think about it, sir.” He looks at me and smiles awkwardly, he must be talking to one of his bosses. The conversation doesn’t last much longer.

“Sorry about that,” he says, scratching his head. “My boss.” That’s all he gives as an explanation.

After that, he picks up his coffee and takes a sip. “Wow, this is so good.” I look at him and laugh, he looks confused. “What?” he asks, laughing lightly. “What is it?” He just looks so cute.

“You have cream on your upper lip.” I say between laughs. “It looks funny.”

Seungmin’s face starts turning a pinkish shade of red.

“So, what was that call about?” I ask a few minutes later.

“Mm,” Seungmin puts his mug down on the table, “nothing important, just my boss. There’s this annual party they do at my company to celebrate the success of the year, and this is the first time that I’m invited.” He sounds a bit sad while saying it.

“Then what’s the problem, Min? It sounds like an amazing time,” I’m confused about why he would be sad about it.

“It’s just… I was supposed to introduce my fiancée to the team.” Seungmin looks like he’s about to cry, and I suddenly realize that Yuna was meant to be his fiancée by now.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Min.” I move closer so I can hug him. “It's okay if you don’t want to go.” I caress his hair. We stay like that for a little longer.

“I wanted to go…” He pauses for a brief moment and clears his throat. “I really wanted to go because it’s a big step to be invited to this kind of event.” He looks at me with those big eyes and he reminds me of a sad puppy.

“Then why don’t you just go? I mean, it looks like an amazing opportunity for your bosses to get to know you better and for you to get to know all of your colleagues, right?” I say, a bit confused.

I’m not understanding why he wouldn’t go to that party since it seems like a big thing for him. I mean, from my point of view, not having Yuna to go with him doesn’t seem like such an important reason for him not to go.

“It’s- ah – it’s a bit embarrassing.” He scratches the back of his head and I give him a confused look.

“Embarrassing?”

“I – look, I talked so much about Yuna, how perfect she was and how I wanted to ask her to be my wife,” Seungmin laughs uncomfortably. “I’m such an idiot”

“Don’t say that, Min.”

“Anyways, I would be so embarrassed to go without a partner that I would rather not go. I was going to be the new person at that party, and everyone would have had their eyes on me, and they would start to ask questions… I don’t want to go through that, to be honest.”

“Oh, I get it,” is all I say.

We finish our coffees while talking about other things, remembering old times when we were kids, then we go back home. But the whole time that conversation kept running through my mind and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

A couple of days go by and none of us mention anything about the work party Seungmin had the next week. But I can’t stop thinking about it. It seems like a big deal for him and I think I have a solution for it.

“Can you pass me the salt? Y/N? Hello?”

“Huh?” I look at him; I hadn’t heard what he said. We make eye contact, and he laughs.

“What’s going through your mind, Y/N?”

“I- nothing.” Clearly it’s not nothing.

We keep eating in silence until I can’t keep it in anymore. I've never been good with keeping things that bothered me to myself, especially if I’m with someone I trust.

“This is the craziest thing I’ve ever come up with, but-” I stop talking, and I start to wonder if it’s really a good idea. “Never mind.”

“Hey! No no, you can’t do that! Tell me, please,” he pleads with big puppy eyes.

“Not fair,” I whisper. “Fine. I’ll tell you, but don’t laugh at me.” I give him a warning look. “I was thinking, that maybe, only if you think this is a good idea…” I start biting my nails. “What if I was your date for the party?”

“What?” He looks slightly confused. “I mean, it’s a good idea, but-”

“Look, I know how much you want to go to the party, even though you haven’t said as much, I know. I’m not saying this because I want to date you.” We both laugh at the last bit.

Since we were teenagers, a lot of people would tell us that we made a really cute couple, to which we always answered by laughing. We've never felt anything romantic for each other. We even talked about it a few times and we’re very clear that how we feel about each other is just friendship, and it’s always been like that.

“I know, I know,” he says between laughs. “But you know what? That’s not a super crazy idea.”

“Wait, really?” I didn’t think Seungmin was going to like the idea, I thought he would think it’s weird.

“Yeah, I mean, we’re friends, we could pretend to be dating for a night. And you were right, I want to go so badly.”

The day of the party, I wake up earlier than usual. I’m feeling kind of nervous. What if no one believes us?

I have some coffee and I decide to go out for a walk around the city. I noticed that I didn’t have any fancy dresses to wear to tonight’s party, so I decided to do some shopping. After browsing around for a bit without finding anything that matched my aesthetic and was suitable for the party, I decide to check one last store.

That’s where I find the perfect dress; it has a V-shaped neckline that reveals just enough skin. The waistline is expertly cinched creating a flattering hourglass shape. I buy it immediately and can already picture the whole look with a pair of high heels I already have that would make my legs look amazing.

“Hey, where have you been all morning?” I hear as soon as I come back to Seungmin’s apartment. He seems like he’s been awake for a while now.

“Shopping!” I go into my room to put down the dress and I go back out to join Seungmin in the kitchen. “I also got some food for today.” I put the food bags on the counter. “And a beautiful dress for tonight.”

“Let me see!” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“You’ll see it tonight,” I giggle. “What were you doing anyway? Do you need help?”

“I was just cleaning and I’m about to cook lunch.” He hands me a cleaning towel and we start to clean the kitchen together.

Seungmin’s POV

It’s the day of my work party and ever since Y/N suggested being my date I’ve been feeling a little confused, not because of her suggestion but of how I felt when she asked. We’ve been friends since forever and I’ve never had any feelings for her apart from friendship, just that. But after she asked me I let myself fantasize about it, just for a brief moment before stopping that train of thought.

“Okay, I’m ready!” I hear Y/N shout from her room. I look at her and she couldn’t look more gorgeous; that dress suits her like a glove, it hugs her curves so well.

“What do you think?” She twirls.

“Y-” I clear my throat, “You look amazing, Y/N. You’ll steal everyone’s hearts tonight.”

“I’m going as your date, dummy. Remember?” She giggles “I can’t steal anyone’s heart.”

My phone pings indicating our Uber has just arrived so we go downstairs. It’s only a 20 minute drive to the party.

As soon as we arrive, I start to feel really nervous. Y/N must feel it too since she grabs my hand.

“You got this, Min.” And like that we walk into the building.

“Seungmin! I’m glad you could make it, boy!” I turn around and see Minho, my boss.

“Hello Mr. Lee,” I greet him. “I’m so honored to be invited to the party.”

“And this is your fiancée?” He points at Y/N.

“O- Oh y-yes. Y/N this is Lee Minho, my boss. Sir, this is my fiancée Y/N.” They shake each other's hands.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Lee, and thank you for inviting Seungmin to this party. He was so happy when he got the invitation, it was all he talked about this week.” She smiles.

Wow, I think. She’s really good at this.

“Nice to meet you too. You two look like a nice couple, I hope I get invited to the wedding,” he chuckles. “Now you go have fun.” He leaves us to go talk to other people.

“He seems nice,” Y/N says. “Still a little weird to think people see us as a nearly married couple, though,” she giggles.

We walk over to the bar while I keep greeting some of my colleagues, making small talk with them.

“You’re so good at this,” I tell Y/N while we wait for our drinks to be made. “You seem so comfortable, no one can tell you’re pretending.”

“Well,” she sips her drink that the bartender had just served us. “I’m a good actress, what can I say?”

“Sure you are, almost-Mrs.-Kim.” I turn to look at her and we make eye contact; I get a little lost in her eyes until I hear one of my colleagues approach us.

“Look at the happy couple all lovey-dovey.”

“Hello Hyunjin,” I shake his hand and he pulls me into a hug. He’s not only a colleague, but one of the only friends I have here. But he had never met Yuna or Y/N, no one in my work had. “Let me introduce you to, erm, my fiancée, Y/N.”

“He’s talked so much about you, like every single day. It’s so nice to finally meet you, Y/N,” he says as they shake hands.

I start to feel unwell, to not like this, to feel like this is wrong. She’s my friend, not my fiancée. I haven’t been talking about her, but about my ex.

“Hey, Min, is everything okay?” I hear Y/N and I come back from my thoughts. “I think we need to go get some air, it was nice meeting you, Hyunjin.”

"Nice to meet you too, Y/N." Hyunjin smiles.

We go to a balcony, Y/N holding my hand. I feel nervous, because I don’t want her to know how I’m starting to feel about us. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.

“What’s going on, Min?” She asks me as soon as we go into the balcony. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes” I lie “I’m just… a bit overwhelmed with all the attention we’ve been getting, and to be honest it’s a little weird to introduce you as my fiancée.” I rub my head nervously. “It’s just that, don’t worry about it, I’m okay.”

“Okay…” I think she doesn’t really believe my words but I let it pass. If I try to make her believe I’m totally fine, it might go the wrong way and this could end up in a disaster.

We go back inside after a few minutes and the rest of the night goes by without any incidents. I get used to calling Y/N my fiancée, and I start to kind of like calling her that. My head is definitely a mess right now and the alcohol is not helping.

Y/N’s POV

The following morning I wake up with a headache. I don’t remember drinking that much at the party, it must have been the type of alcohol they served. I check my phone and it’s not that late, considering we got back home pretty late last night. I rub my eyes adjusting to the light coming from the little space the curtains leave.

“Morning, Y/N,” I hear as soon as I leave my room. Seungmin is in the kitchen drinking some coffee, he must have woken up not too long ago because his hair is still a bit messy and he’s still wearing his pajamas.

“Morning, Min. Did you sleep well, fiancé?” I say between laughs. I have to admit it was kind of fun pretending to be a couple last night. I've never been into acting before to be honest, but having to pretend to be engaged to my best friend was a pretty fun experience.

“Uh - yeah,” he says almost in a whisper. He must be tired. “By the way, what time are you leaving today?” He asks while he finishes his coffee.

“At five o'clock, I think. Let me check again.” I go into my room to grab my phone so I can check my train ticket.

“Yes, the train leaves at 5pm,” I shout from the bedroom. “This time the week has gone by so quickly.”

I come out of the room with my phone in my hand. “I can’t believe it’s time for me to go back home.” I genuinely feel sad about it. I’ve had so much fun the past week, and knowing all that Seungmin has gone through in the past month I don’t want to leave him alone. He needs support. And that gives me an idea. A bright idea, I would say.

“Mm okay, we still have time to go back to that coffee shop we liked and be able to make it on time for your train.” I look at Seungmin when he suggests that with excitement and I start helping him to tidy up the kitchen so we can leave.

We end up going to the cute coffee shop we went to a few days before and we decide to have lunch out as well, since neither of us wanted to cook or clean the kitchen afterwards. We end up in an Italian restaurant that caught us by the smell that was coming out the door when we walked past it. I’ve always loved Italian food, I would say that it’s my favorite type of food but whenever I try to cook it at home it’s never the same, so whenever I have a chance I go to an Italian restaurant.

“Look Y/N, they have your favorite, spaghetti with pesto,” Seungmin says while looking at the menu.

“Well then, I don’t even have to look at the menu,” I laugh.

“Should we order a pizza?” We say at the same time and start laughing. “Yes!”

“We share a brain cell at this point,” I keep laughing. This is something so common between us, saying the same thing at the same time, or even knowing what the other is going to say even before they say it.

Our food arrives not long after ordering it. I, of course, got spaghetti with pesto while Seungmin ordered farfalle 'ai quattro fromagi'. We also ordered a pizza to share, as we always do anytime we eat together. We always like to share at least one plate.

We talk about everything and nothing at the same time; we just enjoy our last few hours together. The whole time I couldn’t stop thinking about how I would love to live closer so we could enjoy our time together more often, I miss having my best friend near. I miss our hours-long conversations about either nothing important or the most deep topics you could ever imagine.

That exact moment is when I decide that the bright idea I had earlier needs to come true. I’m going to move to the city. There’s barely anything holding me back in my hometown except for my family; I could get a better job and greater opportunities here. And to be honest, I wanted a change in my life. All that added to the fact that I wouldn’t have to wait ages to see my best friend again, it seems like the perfect plan.

“What’s going through your mind, Y/N?” I shake my head coming back to reality when I hear Seungmin. “You’ve been quiet for a while now and we both know what that means,” he chuckles.

“It’s nothing, just thinking about the trip back home,” I don't want to get his hopes up. “I don’t feel like being on a train for hours, you know?”

He only laughs, shrugging his shoulders, “It could be easier if you lived nearer.”

I look at him amazed. How could he know what I was thinking?

It hasn’t even been two months since I last visited Seungmin, but here I am once again being late to the train. Just this time I’m not going to the city to visit my best friend but to be interviewed by, hopefully, my new employers.

I haven’t told anyone but my parents that I was going to be here doing this interview. When I got back home from the last visit I made to Seungmin, I talked to my parents about my plans for the future, how I wanted to move to the city and find a better job there.

At first they were reticent about it, but in the end they understood it was time for me to move out of my childhood house and find better opportunities for my future. So, they helped me find different places to send my CV to. And luckily one of the places that I liked the most replied quite fast letting me know they were hiring for my position and that’s how I ended up here.

The company building is not so far from the train station so it only takes me half an hour to be there, ready and nervous for this interview. It’s a quite impressive company, and the fact that they’re hiring programmers and giving me the opportunity is perfect for me.

I enter the building and everything is really clean and white, minimalistic decor and a very silent atmosphere. I approach the front desk.

“Hi, I have an appointment for a job interview at 12 pm,” I tell the receptionist.

“Name, please?” I give her my name and the information she asks. “Okay, take the elevator at the end of that hallway to floor 12. Give the man at the desk there this paper.”

“Thank you,” I follow her instructions and I arrive at a little hall where I give the man at the desk the paper.

“You can sit there and wait for your turn,” he says. “I’ll let you know when your turn comes.” I nod and smile at him.

I sit in a chair to wait. I start fidgeting with the dress I decided to wear today. I check my phone and I find a “good luck!” message from my dad. I smile.

“Y/N?” a young man calls me. “It’s your turn.”

I enter a room where I see a desk where a woman is sitting looking at a computer.

“Hello,” I greet her. “I’m Y/N.” She looks at me and smiles. I feel a little less nervous, she seems like a nice woman.

“Hello Y/N, I’m Soyeon.” We shake hands. “Please sit down.”

The interview lasts longer than I expected and I’m feeling confident about it. I call my parents to tell them about it as soon as I leave the building.

I still have some time until I have to catch the train back home so I decide to walk around for a while. I put my earphones on and play my favorite playlist, daydreaming about living here in the city.

“A couple of days have gone by since I did the interview and I still haven’t gotten a response, I’m starting to worry,” I tell my mom while we are preparing lunch. “I had a good feeling about it, but what if I said something stupid?” I look at my mom with almost watery eyes. “What if I never find a good job-”

“Don’t say that,” she says. “You’re so worth it and if they don’t want you it's on them, not your fault.” She comes to where I was standing and hugs me tightly, and I immediately start crying. “They’ll call you, honey. If you had a good feeling about the interview you should trust your gut.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Not even a minute later, my phone starts ringing. I separate from my mother, wipe my tears with the sleeves of the hoodie I was wearing, and go pick up my phone. It’s an unknown number.

“Hello?” I say as I answer the call.

“May I speak with Y/N?” I hear.

“Speaking, uhm, who is this?” I look at my mom with a confused look.

“This is Soyeon. I wanted to personally congratulate you, we liked you and I’m glad to inform you that you’ve been selected to join our company.”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I got the job!

“Thank you,” is all I can answer. I’m so excited about it.

“I’ll email you the rest of the details. Thank you, goodbye.”

“Okay, thanks, bye.”

I hang up and start jumping around. My mom looks at me with a confused look.

“Who was it?” She asks me, “Was it the company?”

I nod and go to hug her.

“I got in! I got the job!”

“What’s all this excitement about?” my dad asks when he enters the kitchen.

“I got the job, Dad!”

After coming down from the high that was the good news, I decided it is time to tell Seungmin about it. So I give him a call.

“Min?” I say when he answers the call. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Yes! What’s up?”

“I- I have really good news.”

“Mhm?”

“So you remember how the last time I was there you told me it would be easier if I lived closer?”

“Uh, yes?”

“Well, after coming back home the last time I visited you I was also sad that we weren’t living closer, so I decided to apply for a job there so I could live there. And I just got a call from the company telling me that I got the job! Min! I’m moving to the city!”

“What?! Oh my god! I’m so happy for you Y/N! When are you coming here?”

“I have to plan everything, first I should find an apartment,” I laugh. “But I will be updating you with everything, I promise!”

“If you need any help, I’m here. But why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“Oh, I didn’t want to jinx it. I didn’t want to let myself or us daydream about it until this was official.”

“Oh I get it,” he laughs. “I’m really excited for you to move here.”

“Me too, Min! Okay I’ll text you later, I have to go have lunch. Bye!”

“Bye!”

The day of the move finally arrives. The last few weeks have been a mess, between packing all of my stuff and finding an apartment, I haven’t had a minute to relax. But in the end everything has worked out perfectly.

I’ve found an apartment that is close to work but is also close to Seungmin’s apartment. He has helped me a lot while apartment hunting, actually he was the one who found this one. He was the one who went to visit the apartments, so I didn’t have to take the train that many times.

This time my parents were driving me since I had so much stuff that I couldn’t fit it in a suitcase. When we arrive at the building I’m going to live in, Seungmin is waiting for us at the door.

“Hello Mrs. and Mr. Y/LN,” he greets my parents with a hand shake.

“Oh Seungmin, call us by our names, how many times have I told you that?” My mom laughs and hugs him tightly. “How have you been, honey? I heard from your parents that you got a promotion.”

After the party that we went to, Seungmin got the promotion he was hoping for, it seems like we did leave an impression on his boss. Well, he left the impression.

After the smalltalk we then start moving the boxes with my stuff into the apartment, and after one hour we finished putting everything inside my new home.

“We should probably go eat something before organizing and cleaning everything,” my dad suggests.

“Yes please, I’m so tired I can't do anything now. I need food,” I agree with my dad.

We go find a place to have lunch with the four of us together. We end up eating at an Italian restaurant.

After having lunch, we go back to my apartment to finish putting everything together.

After a few hours and us being really tired, my new apartment is all set up. My parents leave not much longer after finishing it and Seungmin stays with me to help me give it a few finishing touches.

“This apartment screams you, Y/N,” he says while sitting on the sofa. “I’m so happy that we live so close by now.”

“I’m happy too, Min,” I say, sitting next to him. “I’m so happy to start my new life here, meet new people, have you closer…” I rest my head on his shoulder.

We stay like that in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company.

“Oh, by the way, Y/N,” Seungmin says, breaking the silence.

“Mhm,” my voice comes out sleepy, I’m so tired that if Seungmin hadn't spoken I might have fallen asleep right there.

“So a few of my colleagues are going to be meeting for a dinner, nothing official or anything, but everyone is bringing their partners, and…” he stops. “... Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“Do you want me to pretend to be your fiancée again?” I sit up and look at him. “You didn’t tell them that we’re not together?”

“I- I didn’t, they kept asking me how were you doing and I never found the guts to tell them that we weren’t really a couple. I- I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s nothing.”

Is it really nothing? Why wouldn’t he tell them that we’re not together? I understand why he didn’t tell them the first time, for the party. I know how he felt then and how he needed to go to that party and pretend to be someone. But now? I feel confused, but it wouldn’t hurt to pretend to date again, would it?

“I can pretend once again that we’re engaged, no problem.” I say after a few thinking seconds. “I’m okay with that.”

The day of the dinner with Seungmin’s coworkers arrives sooner than expected. We’ll be meeting at 8 pm at a popular restaurant in the city center. I Googled it right after Seungmin texted me the details of the date. It seems like an expensive place.

I finish what I was doing at the office just on time to go home and get ready.

“Hey, are you in a hurry?” I hear right behind me. I turn around just to find one of my coworkers. I have never spoken to him more than just simple greetings when walking in the office, all I know is that he’s one of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s tall, blonde, and has the cutest smile.

“Mmm kind of, why?” I ask, smiling.

“Oh I just figured,” he laughs. “I’m Yunho by the way”

“Y/N.” I shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“So, where’re you going?” He asks me while we walk to the elevator.

“Oh, I’m headed to a…” date? dinner with friends? “I’m meeting with some people for dinner.” That sounded so weird, why can’t I say it’s a date? Why does it feel weird?

“A date or with friends?” Why is he so insistent on knowing?

“It’s complicated,” I laugh it off.

“Well either way, have fun tonight!” We walk out of the building and we go in different directions.

My coworker stays in my mind until I arrive home. Once I’m back in my apartment I check my phone. 7:15 pm. I have to be quick getting ready because Seungmin is coming in less than half an hour to pick me up.

I had already chosen my outfit before, I’m going to be wearing a beautiful light yellow summer dress that has a pretty flow when I move around. I pair it with a pair of low white heels and a simple gold necklace. I quickly do a simple makeup look, and as I’m finishing the final touches, I hear the doorbell. Just on time.

“Hey Seungmin,” I say as I open the door. He looks so stylish. “Wow, you look amazing, Min.” He’s wearing a light blue shirt and black pants. A simple yet fancy outfit.

“Look who’s talking!” He gestures at me. “That dress looks so good on you, you’re so beautiful Y/N.”

Seungmin’s POV

We arrive at the restaurant just on time, and I see all of my colleagues already there. There’s not many of us. The first one I see is Hyunjin, and the blue haired man who’s right next to him must be his boyfriend, I can’t remember his name right now.

“Seungmin, Y/N!” Hyunjin comes to greet us. “How are you? Oh, let me introduce you to my boyfriend, Felix. Felix, this is Seungmin and Y/N.” We shake hands.

“Hyunjin has talked so much about you, you’re engaged right?” Felix says, and I notice he has an accent.

“Yes!” Y/N answers. “It was a beautiful proposal, he took me to my favorite restaurant and asked me to be his wife and I couldn’t resist him,” she giggles.

Once again I’m impressed with her acting skills. And once again I start to think about her as more than a friend.

Since the party we first went to as a couple, I couldn’t stop thinking about how good I felt calling Y/N my fiancée, something changed for me that day. But I don’t think it changed for her. When she left, I felt lonely, and that had never happened before. I mean, we’ve been friends since forever, and that’s all that we are, friends and nothing else.

These months I’ve had time to think, and to put my feelings in order. Since my ex cheated on me, I started seeing a therapist and that helped me get to know myself so much better. So when I started having feelings for Y/N again, I knew. I had fallen in love with her. I was in love with my best friend. And there was so little I could do about it.

Y/N’s POV

After all of the introductions we sit at the table to have dinner, and I end up sitting between Seungmin and Felix.

“So, what do you do for a living, Felix?”

“I’m a baker!” He exclaims. “I’m working on opening my own bakery, it’s been my dream since I was a kid.”

“That’s so cool!” I’ve always liked baking even though every time I try I make a disaster, but I have fun doing it. “You have to teach me how to make something simple, because I’m a mess in the kitchen,” I laugh.

“Totally.”

I hear Seungmin laughing, “Don’t let her near the kitchen if you appreciate your food.”

“Hey!” I playfully hit Seungmin’s arm.

“You guys are so cute,” Hyunjin, who’s sitting next to Felix, says.

We have a great time talking to them and to Seungmin’s other colleagues. When we finish dinner, someone suggests going to a club and we all agree.

I feel so comfortable with everyone, and since I moved here I haven’t been out with friends. Work has occupied most of my time; adjusting to the new company has been fun but tiring.

We go to a club that’s nearby. The first thing we do as we enter is go order some drinks, and once we have those some of us go straight to the dance floor. I notice Seungmin stays back, talking with some people.

I end up with Felix, Hyunjin and a man called Jeongin. We start dancing to the rhythm of the music and I notice how well Felix and Hyunjin dance.

We laugh and dance for a long time, having so much fun. I’ve missed this. At one point I leave the dance floor to go to the bathroom and as I’m leaving I almost crash into someone’s back.

“Are you- Wait, Y/N?” The mysterious man turns around to check if I’m okay.

“Yunho!” I recognize my coworker. “What are you doing here?” I say, almost screaming, since the music was so loud.

“I’m here with some friends, are you alone?” He bends over a bit since he’s way taller than me.

“She’s not alone,” I hear someone say behind me. I turn around and see an irritated Seungmin.

“Okay man, calm down,” Yunho chuckles.

Seungmin then grabs my arm and pulls me aside. I send an apologetic glance to Yunho, who nods and returns to his friends.

“Are you insane?” I exclaim, turning to face Seungmin. “What’s your problem?”

He doesn’t answer, he just stares at me. Why is he acting so weird?

“Why did you do that? Could you at least explain yourself?”

“I thought he was bothering you.” He looks more calm now, still a bit annoyed though.

“He was not!” I’m starting to feel furious, and maybe alcohol was not helping. What does he think he is to do that? “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t want another man to flirt with you,” he says so softly that I almost don’t hear it. He sounds a bit drunk so I don’t take his words seriously.

Without any answer, I leave. I need some air, and my head is swirling. I start walking down the street and I hear someone following me. I turn around and I see Seungmin.

“Y/N, please stop! Let me explain myself, please!”

“You better have a great explanation for everything.” I keep walking, now at a slow pace.

“Okay, I’ll explain everything, but not now.” I look at him annoyed. “Don’t look at me like that, we’re both tipsy and now is not the best time to talk about feelings”

Feelings?

“Let me walk you home and we’ll talk tomorrow morning.”

I nod and we start walking in the direction of my apartment, without saying a word the whole walk there.

I say goodbye to Seungmin and get in my apartment. My head is turning and I feel super confused. I take off my makeup, drink some water and go to bed, hopefully tomorrow everything will clear out.

The next morning I wake up with a headache. How much did I drink yesterday? I can’t remember. I check my phone and I see a text message from Seungmin. Whenever you wake up text me please, and memories from last night start to come to my head.

I text him back: ‘m up

We text back and forth for a few minutes and we decide to meet at my favorite coffee shop in half an hour.

Once in the coffee shop and after ordering some coffee, we go sit at one of the tables that was in a corner.

“Let me talk first and then you can decide to stay mad at me or not,” Seungmin breaks the silence. “This has been hard for me to realize, but ever since we went to my company’s party I’ve started to feel things. I’ve started to feel things for you. I know we’ve talked about it before, and all the times we said we didn’t feel anything for each other I meant it.

“I don’t know if it was because I was vulnerable after Yuna cheated on me or why, but the first time I fake called you my fiancée I liked how it sounded. After you left I started to think about it and I couldn’t stop the feelings I began to have for you.

“I know this must be weird and all at once and I don’t need an answer now. I just need you to know that I’m in love with you.”

I’m astonished. I didn’t know how he felt about me, I would never have guessed it. But now it makes so much sense. How he felt when we went to the party, and that explains why he didn’t tell his coworkers that we weren’t a couple.

“I- I’m not mad at you, Min,” I say after a few minutes in silence. “I just need to process everything. Because I'd be lying if I didn’t like pretending to be your fiancé at those parties.” I take a deep breath.

“Take your time, Y/N. I don’t want to have an influence on what you feel about me or us.”

“That’s the weird part, Min. I feel something, I don’t know what it is but I feel something for you.” I rub my face. “I thought we could never be more than friends, come on, how many people have told us all these years how cute of a couple we would be?” I laugh nervously.

“And how many times have we laughed about it?” He adds.

“I think,” I stop, debating how to phrase my thoughts, “I think that in my head this was never a possibility so whenever I would have had any feelings of any type for you I would repress them.”

And that’s something that had crossed my mind multiple times before, I’ve thought of how good of a boyfriend he would be, he’s always been so kind and so thoughtful with me.

“But maybe I was wrong,” Seungmin looks at me in shock, we make eye contact and we kiss. He grabs me by my waist to pull me closer.

“Wow,” he says when we separate from each other. “I-” He clears his throat “I wasn’t expecting you to do that.”

“Why not?” I laugh.

“So, would you be my girlfriend, Y/N?” he asks me, leaning closer and giving me a peck.

“I would have to think about it,” I joke.

He pouts, giving me those big puppy eyes he knows I can’t say no to.

“Of course I would like to be your girlfriend, silly,” I chuckle. “You know, you look like a puppy when you do that.”

He then gently grabs my face and slowly leans closer. Our lips collide again and he licks my bottom lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.

I feel so safe with him, so happy. This is going to be the start of something wonderful.

[aheckinmess]

(One-shot series 3/3 chapters posted - posted regularly on Saturdays. If anyone knows who to credit for the Hizashi fanart, please let me know!)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Graphic violence, Hizashi Yamada x OC, Present Mic, Present Mic saves the day, Hizashi Yamada is a ray of sunshine, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, pro hero to the rescue, learning how to people again, no longer a puppet, wedding time

Word Count: 5,127 words

Summary: One year after breaking free of a horrible life, Ichijiku has made great strides in her mental health and trauma, as well as her relationship with Hizashi. As their impending wedding approaches, Ichijiku starts worrying about the possible roadblocks intimacy could create. One apathetic Aizawa lends his aide and advice.

Author's Note: I haven't posted fanfiction in years, but after a two-year obsession with My Hero Academia, I have more than enough content to share. This first series is pretty dark, but there's some comfort and sweetness along the way. Enjoy.

Content Warning: Smut included in this chapter.

Chapter 3: Harmonious Happenings

Ichijiku (Tigress)

"Are you ready to head home?"

"No. I need to walk around a little bit. I want to talk to you about something, but I'm not sure how to bring up the subject."

"Is this about physical intimacy with Hizashi?"

I look up at Shouta with shock and disbelief. I knew even before we became friends that he was good at reading Hizashi's mind, but damn! Is he sure erasure is his only quirk? Telepathy seems to come in at a close second. But I can't help it. Such a topic while walking down the street makes my cheeks turn pink. "Y-Yes. Am I that obvious?"

"That...was just a lucky guess." He admits with a drawl. "You've been acting a little off since he proposed to you. It's been, what, six months?" As if you're not keeping count, Logic Boi. He's your best friend.

"Yeah...the wedding will be coming up any day now." That's brought on a whole new wave of conflicted emotions. "I guess I'm just starting to get really anxious. I'm scared."

"About the preparations or about marrying Hizashi?"

"Well, a little of both. But mostly the marrying Zashi part." I admit, fidgeting with the ends of my sleeves in the autumn breeze. "This time last year I almost cut him out of my life entirely for similar reasons. But it's not the same. I'm scared because if he ends up like Kigai–"

"I'll personally wring his neck for you." Shouta finishes for me. "Hizashi is one of the most easy-going people I know. He won't take advantage of you like that. You've been with him long enough to know that. There's something else you're afraid of then, right?"

Damn Logic Boi.

"Right..." I sigh, wondering if this is a conversation I should be having with him and not my therapist. Ms. Sheila said having friends and confidants to talk to are just as important. "I'm worried that...I won't be able to be that intimate with him like he wants right away."

"Okay. Why does that worry you?"

"Because I," Warmth starts creeping into my neck. "Because I've...been able to tell that he gets excited...ahem and I've been privy to that too. So I'm scared that he'll think he's obligated to it once we're married."

"When he first wanted to kiss you, did he seem to think he was obligated to it?"

I blink up at him. "You know about that?"

"Ichi, Hizashi was bouncing off the walls before he went to that hibachi place with you. I'm surprised you got through the first three minutes without him confessing his love on the spot." It sounds so amusing with his dry delivery.

"Oh." Was I really that oblivious? Wow, guess you really are more stupider than I thought. You were still hypervigilant and afraid. It's only natural you'd have missed the signs. "Well...no, he didn't seem to think he was obligated to it, I don't guess."

"Then what makes you think he'd feel obligated to sex?" His tone isn't judgmental, just curious. I'm grateful for it.

"Well, it's different than a kiss, you know? I mean people kiss each other all the time. It's a lot easier to say no...or to stop if it gets too scary." My poor sleeves go through the wringer as I start rambling. A man passing by yells so loudly that I flinch. "B-But it's much harder with sex. If I think I'm okay to start but have to stop, I can't just tell him no in the middle like when we kiss."

"Why not?"

"Because then he'll be mad." I whimper. Eucalyptus tickles my nostrils and I grip my chest and the front of my shirt. "He'll be mad and then he'll hit me and leave me alone."

"Ichi, you're gripping your shirt. Take a deep breath." Shouta instructs.

"Shit. Not now. I'm sorry." I put my face in my hands and grip my hair. "I'm so sorry."

"Take a deep breath. You're safe. He's not here now and you're walking on the sidewalk with me. There's a fire hydrant coming up and a woman rocking her baby while she waits on the bench for a bus. The streets are chatty but not bustling and the wind is cold. Someone's selling fried rice because I can smell it from here. Breathe." He says, immersing me in my present surroundings like my therapist has advised me to do.

Rough sidewalk. Red fire hydrant. Baby crying. Screeching bus tires. Cold wind. Fried rice...with shrimp and broccoli. The visual and sensual cues help me the most. It helps ground me in the present. I inhale and I exhale and the eucalyptus starts to fade. Kigai's hand ghosts my shoulder but I focus on the white lines drawn on the crosswalk and a little girl's cheerful laugh as she swings her doll around. It was the guy yelling that sent me out of it. We're still in the present. Everything is okay. That's it, Little One. Good job.

"Thank you." I take one final breath and glance at him for a moment before I regroup and go back to my original conversation. "Anyway...it's just not the same, Shouta."

"Of course it's the same. You're allowed to tell him to stop at all times. Whether that's before or during the act." Shouta reassures me.

This is new information that makes me pause. You're being a little tease, aren't you? Telling me you want it and changing your mind? Bullshit! You're mine and you'll do exactly as I tell you! I nearly halt right in the middle of the sidewalk, but I power through, needing to have this conversation. I need to talk to someone and hopefully get some coping strategies before I have to pull through this with Zashi. Shouta's probably one of the best people to do that with. He knows him so well.

"Kigai...stopped caring about what I had to say the first time I tried to resist." I admit, tapping my teeth together in my mouth as I purposefully avoid eye contact.

"That's rape." Shouta's voice changes. He still sounds apathetic, but I've learned there are certain intonations where I can tell he's upset. This is one of those times. "Only a scumbag would do that."

"So if I decide to try but...we're in the middle...erm, doing stuff and I get uncomfortable...I can tell him to stop?" I rub my arms nervously, but not because I'm flustered about the subject now. It's because ghostly memories haunt the edge of my mind. "He won't...be angry with me?"

"Let me make this abundantly clear," Shouta begins as I unlock my door to my house and he helps me bring in my wedding finds. I have him set them on the counter while I close and lock the door. "Hizashi can be balls deep inside you and you're allowed to tell him to stop. Knowing Hizashi, who knows about your situation, he'll communicate with you how he needs to stop. If he needs to pull back entirely, if he just needs to wait for you to take a breath and continue, that sort of thing. Hizashi's not going to be angry at you for needing time to work through anything. You lived through hell for three years, Ichijiku. Both he and I and our other friends know that takes time to get over."

I can't help but laugh. Not only because it feels like a weight's been lifted from my shoulders, but also because I'd never expected to hear Shouta Aizawa say the words balls deep inside you to me of all people.

"That's encouraging to know. Thanks, Shouta."

"Of course. And if he ends up whining about it, I'll threaten to cut the circulation from his testicles and he won't have to worry about it at all."

. . . . .

Time flashes by until I'm adorned in a beautiful white dress with my hair twirled and curled in intricate fashion to frame my features. Anxieties ripple through my skin until I see Hizashi standing at the end of the aisle. My heart grows and swells inside my chest until I make it to his side, glowing with joy that he looks so awed and proud as I step up beside him. I give Shouta and Oboro a wave. Nemuri winks at me when I turn back to that side.

And then everything rushes by in a blur. We repeat our vows to the ordained and God, exchange a kiss that makes me dizzy, and then suddenly my last name is Yamada. The after party flurries by because I'd asked for a smaller ceremony, to which Hizashi thankfully obliged.

It's when we start getting closer to our honeymoon destination that I start getting nervous. Just breathe, Cub, remember what Shouta said. He won't do anything you're not ready for. That's the problem. I want to be ready for that. I have a high libido. I'm more than ready physically...but...I'm not at the same time. It frustrates me. Why wouldn't it frustrate him? Everything is going to be okay. When we finally make it to the beach house, Hizashi fully picks me up bridal style to walk me through the threshold. "I heard this was a tradition, so I thought I'd treat you." He laughs, setting me down once we get inside. He looks around. "Damn. This place is nice!"

He's not wrong. I look around and instantly feel the comfort of being in a large space to call my own for the next two weeks. "Oh, look!" There's a little basket setting on the coffee table in the living space. When I pad over to look at it, I flush with a nervous chuckle. "Eeps. It's from Nemuri." I can already see the pink thong sticking out in a folded flower and quickly walk in the other direction. "Y-You can look at that. I'm going to go try and get out of this dress."

"Would you like some help? Can you reach the zipper?" He asks as he also forgoes the gift offering for now.

I swallow, take a deep breath, and nod. "Yes, please." As much as I'm scared of what might come next, I can't get my dress off alone.

We make our way to the room we'll be staying in. My anxiety heightens as I'm innately aware of how close Hizashi is. I pull him into the master bathroom so I can start working on getting all of the pins out of my hair while watching him as he works the zipper.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks me once he's got the dress hanging open for me to step out. I notice he's looking me over from the back, but he doesn't touch me. "Your breathing is off."

"I'm a little nervous." I don't feel the need to elaborate.

I wring my fingers and twist my newly acquired ring as I look down at it. Then I step out of my dress and start looking for my overnight bag full of clothes.

"Nervous?" Hizashi asks before his eyes widen and he seems to understand. "Oh! Oh. Hey, you don't have to be nervous, lovebug." He crosses over to me as I rifle through my bag and kisses my cheek, but doesn't even move to hug me while I'm half naked in front of him. "I won't do anything you don't want to. You excite me, sure, but tonight doesn't have to be about anything sexual if you don't want it to be." He chuckles to lighten the atmosphere. "Just don't mind me if my body responds. I'm a big boy, I'll be able to handle it even if I can't help what my body does."

I start pulling on some lounge clothes, exhausted from the long social day. When I turn to him, I carefully plant myself against his chest.

"That's...that's the problem. I want...I want you. I'm just scared of wanting you, because I'm scared of how I'll respond. I'm scared I'll disappoint you. I'm scared you'll be mad and it'll ruin everything." I swallow thickly.

He's quiet for a moment, which means a lot coming from Hizashi because he's usually so vocal. It makes me feel good to know he's really thinking this over and choosing his words carefully for me. His hands rub my back and I feel him plant a kiss on the top of my head. Safe. He's safe.

"Well, let's talk about how you want to address it then." He holds my chin delicately to make me look up at him. "Is it something you'd like to try tonight? Or something you want to try sometime this week? Or even further down the line?" He pauses before adding. "Before you answer, know that any of your answers are acceptable, lovebug. I'm willing to work with you. I know it's hard for you."

My eyes get glassy. How is he so wonderful? I have to push forward again to hug him tight, sniffling as I'm overwhelmed with affection that over three years ago I thought didn't exist - or if it did, I thought I'd never get to have it.

"I want..." I take a deep breath and gauge the swirling emotions in my gut. "I want to try...tonight...and throughout the week?" I pause again. "I don't want...to let Kigai influence how I react to you because I know you're not him." I squeeze him in my arms and am rewarded with a squeeze back. "But I don't know...how...to try it. I don't know what I'll be comfortable with or if I'll freak out. And that scares me."

"Hmm," He hugs me for a moment as he thinks. "Why don't we start with baby steps, lovebug? Would you like to try a shower together? That way you can just get used to me in your general vicinity without making any moves on you? Or do you need a smaller step than that?"

I think it over. That should be fine to start...knowing if I can handle him naked in my proximity...that would be good to know to begin with. And if you can't, just tell him that. He'll slow down for you. He's already made that pretty clear. Right...right. "I think we can try that." I agree, before pulling back and fidgeting with my pajama sleeves.

"Alright, well...how do you want to start this, then?" He asks, before he leans over to start the shower. "I guess to start with I'll let you choose the water temperature."

"Thanks." I focus heavily on my breathing for the next few moments, reaching in and adjusting the nozzles until I'm ready to turn on the shower. When that's done, I take a deep breath. "Okay...okay." Ms. Sheila said a good tip was to relax and start with what I'm comfortable with. "Can I have a kiss?"

Hizashi finally breaks into a smile and leans down to close the distance and set his hands on my hips to pull me closer. I'm used to this by now, it feels safe and familiar. I tug at his lip and run my hands along his chest over his shirt. As I feel more comfortable, I tentatively move my fingers under his shirt to do the same thing, just against his skin.

We're okay. We've done some of this before. I'm safe. This is Zashi. I move my fingers up his chest and around his neck. helping him wiggle out of his shirt. When I pull back for air, I'm rewarded with a delectably handsome sight that fills me full of longing...and fear.

I have to remember to breathe as I drink him in. Even though it's just his top half, I can already feel my tummy flipping and warmth make my body tingle. My fingers tremble when I rub my fingers over his abs.

"Are you okay?" He asks me through heavy breaths. "Do you need a minute or can I take off the rest?"

I squeak and hide behind my hands for a moment. It's okay. He's okay. He's safe. Breathe.

"Y-Yeah. If...if I need you to stop, I'll tell you." I promise.

I'm both fully and not at all prepared for when he pulls down the rest of his clothes. My breath gets shaky, but not for reasons I thought it'd be. My body is flooded with desire and eagerness. A soft sound escapes me when his cock starts to harden. Glory, glory what a hell of a way to die, indeed. I want it. You're mine, slut. Shut your fucking mouth, fiend. I tense involuntarily for a moment.

Hizashi clears his throat and asks, "Do you want me to watch you undress too? Or would you rather I hop in the shower first and wait for you?"

"Can, um," I hold my shoulder shyly and flush darkly. "Can you hop in first?"

He kisses my cheek. "Of course." And then he takes off his glasses and disappears behind the curtain.

It takes me a few moments to re-coordinate my mind and breathe, but when I do, I feel comfortable enough to strip down and ready myself. It's going to be fine. It's going to be okay. He won't hurt you, Cub. He's safe. And then I step into the shower.

As promised, Hizashi keeps his distance. He doesn't even look at me for a while as he just lets the water run over him. When he finally does catch my eyes, I don't miss how his eyes widen. He makes a little grunt and his cock twitches again, but to his credit he restrains himself.

"Didn't know it was possible for you to look even more gorgeous without clothes, but here we are." He teases with a wink, before going back to getting cleaned off.

His comment simultaneously fuels my lust and allays my fears. He...he didn't just grab me and have his way. He's being very careful and sweet and...god, it's hot. I manage to make it through the entirety of the shower without feeling too uncomfortable or having a panic attack. The closest I get to panic is when he asks about a scar on my back where Kigai threw a book at me. Somehow, though, I manage to get through an explanation without crying.

When we hop out and dry off, my emotions begin growing more intense. There's a wet place between my legs that I simply can't dry off. We get dry and I stand up on my toes to pull him into a fiery kiss that draws a moan from deep inside. God, that feels better than I ever expected.

His response is eager but hesitant. He doesn't fully touch me until I guide his hands to my bare hips. His arousal presses against my belly in a mutual desire as I move my arms back around his neck and grip him tight. All of the hot and heavy needs rolling around my body have me seeing stars. I pull back with heavy pants and press my forehead against his to look at him hungrily.

"W-Why don't...we move this to the bed?" My neck heats up as I ask.

"Are you sure?" Worry flickers in his eyes.

"I'm sure. I'll tell you if I'm not."

"Then, may I carry you?" He asks first, hands hovering until I nod. Only then does he pick me up with a flourish and carry me over to the bed. He gently lays me across the pillows. "How do you want me?"

Not Kigai. Not Kigai. Not Kigai. I remind myself as he looks down at me so softly. I rub his arms and pull at him to urge him further down. Okay. It's fine. This feels good. He feels warm. "Kiss me more?" I request.

"Happily." He obliges, tasting like spearmint gum and wedding cake.

We make out like this for at least five minutes, though it feels like an eternity of blissful intimacy. I can feel Hizashi get harder the longer we go, and I could swear I've accumulated a little puddle between my thighs by now. So I brave the waters and skim my fingers along his sides, up his arms, and guide him to squeeze a breast.

The jolt of excitement I feel draws a moan from me. The surprise I feel is so palpable my eyes flash open and I grip his hair to pull him closer. I like that. I'm not scared of him. I want more. This is nothing like it was with Kigai. Good job, Little One. But be mindful; don't let your guard down. I heed the tiger's voice. As much as I want to go feral and pick up the pace, I want to be cautious. I've learned through therapy and non-sexual experiences that even when it starts out easy, sometimes my trauma hits me out of nowhere.

Thankfully, Hizashi's gentle hands help keep me in a right frame of mind. He squeezes my breasts again before pulling back for a moment, rubbing his thumb slowly over my nipples.

"Is this okay, lovebug?"

"Yes." I purr, arching up into his hands eagerly. "I like that a lot."

"Tell me if it becomes too much." He reminds me, before he kisses the little valley between both breasts. "Is that okay?"

"Mhmm..." I massage the hand massaging me. "You can use your mouth, I think. It should be okay."

Even though I assure him, he still moves slowly as he puts his tongue to work. He starts on the least sensitive spot on the soft flesh outside of my boob and slowly works back in to my nipple, asking before he moves in each time. Once he seems to think I've been properly doted upon up there, he pulls back with that familiar worried glaze in his eyes.

"You think you'll be okay if I work my way down? I don't want to rush you."

I gauge my emotions and arousal. My heart's haywire, but not from fear. I'm pretty sure I'll orgasm if he plays his cards right (something Kigai never managed despite touting his conquest of me anytime he could).

"I think it'll be okay. But can you keep moving slowly?" I plead, looking up at him with all the fondness and vulnerability I can muster.

"Of course. I never want to hurt you." He kisses me sweetly, moves up to press another kiss on my forehead, and then moves his hand to rub over my belly while he move his head down so our tongues can dance again.

Soon, his fingers find their mark.

"Fuck, you're soaked." His cock twitches against my thigh as I flush and hide my face behind my hands. His soothing voice lilts into my ear to comfort me. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm glad I make you feel so good. Can I move my fingers?"

"Mhmm..." Even though I don't really say words, my voice still quivers. Not Kigai! I take a few deep breaths to drive my orgasm away so I can talk better."Just...start with my clit a little bit. Don't go straight in yet. I-I need a little more work-up so it'll feel better."

"You got it, lovebug."

His fingers play me like an instrument. And I've learned by now just how good he is at playing any instrument he gets his hands on. He plucks and presses my buttons experimentally until I'm singing out his composition. His finger rings around my clit as he bites my neck. The flurry of pleasure rushing down between my legs surprises me. I didn't think I'd like biting, but color me hot and bothered!

"Zashi!" I yelp out as my back comes off the bed. Endorphins rush through my body as I nearly cum right then. "A-Almost. So close." I pant, trembling under his hands.

"Good, lovebug. Do you want me to rub your clit some more or cum on my fingers?"

I squeak in embarrassment and I give him a half-lidded smile. "I want to feel your fingers...to see if it's going to be okay."

"I'll go slowly. Tell me if you're uncomfortable at any point." He coos, before a finger caresses my entrance. We watch each other as my orgasm builds and he seeks to please me without hurting me.

"I'm going to two now..." He breathes, eyes dilated and hungry as he pushes in another digit and I moan.

My fingers grip his hair and the sheets. So close. Almost there. Please. He keeps the pace slow until I beg him to move a little faster, unable to wait any longer. Almost as soon as he picks up the pace, I'm driven over the edge.

Only right before I cry out his name, I stop. If Kigai knows I'm feeling this good...he'll get jealous. Instinctively, I find my head lulling back as I stare blankly at the ceiling even as sweet bliss floods my senses. You know how good I made you feel, little whore? And you're giving HIM your orgasm?! STOP! You only brought my cub sorrow, bastard. At least Hizashi knows how to please her before himself, you selfish fuckboy.

"Ichan?" Hizashi notices the change instantly and pulls back completely. He turns on his side and covers his bottom half under the covers as he looks at me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Was that too much? I should have–" But he never finishes.

A sob bursts out of my chest. I cover my face with my hands as the aftershocks of my orgasm bleed into the discordant notes of trauma wracking my body. I want to focus on the pleasure but only pain drips down my cheeks.

"He never made me orgasm." I blubber out, whimpers trickling out of my throat. "I-It felt...like I was going to get in trouble because that was the first time...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

"Hey, shh..." He rubs my shoulder and kisses my cheek. "I'm here. No one's going to hurt you. You're allowed to feel good, lovebug. I'm glad I could make you feel good."

I sniffle as I turn over each of his words, breathing through each of them.

"You're not upset...that you didn't orgasm first...?" I ask fearfully.

"Ichan, if I had my way, I'd make you orgasm until my name was the only thing you could say. It's my pleasure to make you feel good. If I orgasm, that's an icing on the cake, but your happiness will always come first for me." He places his hand at my cheek as he looks at me in earnest.

In a tentative attempt at shouldering past the trauma Kigai left and recapturing the mood, I wrap my arms around his neck and tug at his lip with my teeth.

"Thank you." The sentiment hangs in the air like a comforting shroud for a few moments as we just hold each other. I stare up into the tender yellow of his eyes until I think I'm ready to continue. "I'm ready to try more...if you are?"

"I'm ready only if you're sure you're okay." He kisses my forehead again and combs his fingers through my hair. "How do you want me?"

Kigai's voice still tickles my ears as I think about my next request, but I grit my teeth, take a deep breath, and surge forward. You're mine, whore. You don't get to tell me that I'm yours anymore. Because I'm not! "Can...can you kiss me a little more and then...maybe try...going inside?"

It's a big step. I know it's a big step. But my stubborn determination and Shouta's reassurance ringing in my head that Hizashi will stop anytime I ask him makes the decision. Besides, I've always been driven by my emotions. And right now I'm high on feel-good hormones.

"Are you sure, lovebug? I can move slower if you need me to." Even as he says it, I can tell from his expression that he's eager. And who could blame him? I feel the same.

"I'm sure. I'll tell you if it's too much." I promise.

He doesn't go in right away, even after I reassure him. He's good to me and smatters kisses all over every inch of skin he finds while his fingers work me up again. I close my eyes and allow myself to feel good for once. This...this is what intimacy is supposed to feel like.

"I'm going to move in, lovebug." His voice is strained and I feel his hand on my cheek.

I open my eyes and give him a flushed grin. "Okay, Zashi. I'm okay."

As he moves in, I go from okay to good to great to exquisite. It takes some time - he's still very hesitant - but by the time he's fully buried himself inside me, my thoughts are a mixture of electricity and heady clouds. I start realizing why people call it cloud nine.

"Shit..." He breathes in my ear, sending a pleasant tremor straight down my shoulders and spine. He tries to move away from me but I hold him closer. "You okay?"

"Can you...talk in my ear some more...?" I squeak out, my hips already moving to try and get some friction. We've learned auditory cues are a big trigger for me. I wonder if having some positive auditory cues will help me relax? It's worth a shot. But be on your guard.

I can hear him smirk before he chuckles and gets in close again.

"Like this?" He purrs softly, sending my eyes rolling in my head. "Do you want me to tell you how much I love you? How sweet and loveable you are? How gorgeous?" With each word, he washes away my inhibitions and I feel my muscles relaxing. "I'm going to move now, lovebug. You still okay?"

"Yes." I groan, craning my neck over to indulge in a hot kiss.

I pull back and start trailing my fingers around the shells of his ears resulting in a response that makes me feel good inside. I feel his hips spasm and the high-pitched whine he unleashes in my ear has my body shuddering against him.

"So good...touch me more." His pace grows, and so does my need. "Make me feel good with those delicate fingers. Let me make you feel good, too."

"Zashiiiii..." I whine, moving up to lick his ear to see if that makes him feel good too. I'm not disappointed with the sounds he makes. "You feel good...it doesn't hurt...I love you so much." I whimper as he moves faster and harder.

When we're both at our limit and our orgasm begins to clash together in perfect harmony, Kigai's voice tries to interrupt again. No! You're not in control of me anymore. She's not your puppet!

So when we finally break together? Hizashi's name is the only one in my mind and on my lips.

[lightblueglazeddiaryonthewall]

//

When the leaves fell down

The weather was nice if a little cold

The evenings tore the sky in bright infernos

And tore me apart because I couldn't see them with you

//

When the leaves fell down

I fell sick for a while

Couldnt think straight for a while longer

Yet i thought of having nobody to talk to

The medicine was fine

The seething, boiling water was great

But what burned ever hotter

Was my eternal hatred towards fate

//

Sent me a meme on a thursday morning

Sent me spiralling into madness

Because i had just spent six months mourning

How did you think you could just come back

I hate you for all you did

And it took me so long to recognize your cold shoulder

Its quite the fault of mine, but i'll be bolder

And say that never telling me what or why

Was the greatest sin anyone ever did me by

//

I think back to when this began

It all started with a partial lie

And a promise you broke

And the way it ended was me asking

What about "us"? Are "we" still a thing?

Because its been a year since we had a proper conversation and im going insane my dear

And you said it had been over for a year and a half but i hadn't gotten "the memo"

That was all it took really

To lay my gutted corpse by the empty tree

//

So now i lay near this tree

All the while, its surviving with me

I think of how, really i was holding on too tight

Because no one else had treated me so right

Of course it didnt last

But i hated myself enough to keep the charade up

For a couple years far too long

And now i see, it was never about me

//

When the leaves fall down

I want someone with me to watch them fall

But it will never be you

Because all i see are your bloodstained hands

And i realise how you were never there when i needed you.

//

When the leaves fall down

I watch them fall with a smile on my face

And now all i will spend my life waiting for

Is someone who would treat me with grace.