#because YOU KNOW he's gonna wait there until the bus arrived

[katsukikitten]

A rambling that adds more detail to this post about hockey players Izuku and Katsuki.

It doesn't help that you're the coach's pretty little daughter of one of the best hockey teams. At every home game and nearly every away game, you're there behind the plexiglass, insisting you buy your own tickets even when your dad can get you in for free. But occasionally you'll take his offer of a free game although it usually comes with the stipulation of being shoved into one of the manager's polo's, given a clipboard, and since this happened to be an away game you'd be forced to sit on the rowdy bus for the three hour drive.

But you really wanted to watch the championship and your paycheck came in too late when the rival match finals were FINALLY announced, it didn't help that the tickets were sold out in seconds!

So you'll stand by Daddy dearest trying to look important just behind the bench inside the cramped box the team will sit in while they wait to come on and off the ice. The team of course had to arrive early and since this was an away game, you had to look every bit the part of staff as everyone else. Which meant you too had to be in the locker room while the men stripped themselves with ease. Snarling and shoving playfully in the pre game excitement, arguing over who moved who's helmet and “where the fuck are we gonna eat after we win tonight?!”

Some of them speaking lewdly off their latest piece of ass and how Bakugou “had her barkin like a bitch in heat.” Before a chorus of laughs is shared sided from a hissed “Kacchan!” followed by a rough shove into metal lockers.

It isn't until they're all pulling on their jerseys on does your dad clear his throat. Giving the speech of the century but it half falls on deaf ears. Your cheeks burn as you feel every eye on you as if they only just now realized you'd been there the whole time but two men in partial catch your eye.

Izuku, beat red under his freckles, brows furrowed as if he's embarrassed he had such a dirty mouth in front of a lady. Embarrassed of the ‘locker room talk’ and how your tight pair of jeans has his cock twitching at the thought of you barking like a bitch in heat. His gloved hand comes to grip at the nape of his neck but it does little to quell the drunken gaze he gives you, his heated cheeks morphing into pure lust. Emerald eyes slipping around the room and when he sees Todoroki staring too intently at you his glare becomes deadly. Shouto looks away and then Izuku finds another poor soul to glare at, already possessive over something that wasn't even his.

The other being a toxic bromine, smiling wolfishly palming himself roughly as he keeps eye contact with you. Strong grip with his other hand on his hockey stick as he daydreams about you. He wants you in doggy first then missionary because you're so fuckin pretty and he's dying to know what you look like when you cum. Especially when you're creaming on his cock. He's dreamt about you before, he's fucked his fist to you before and he sure as hell has knocked some asshole’s teeth out over you before. It didn't matter if it was his own teammates or the opposing team with the exception that Izuku was allowed to make an occasional comment but no more than three before the childhood rivals would be at each other's throats.

Their gaze are always a little unnerving with their intensity, almost predatory and yet it never makes you feel uncomfortable. They'd proven before that they'd protect you when push came to shove, they did four seasons ago when you first moved to the city and before anyone on the team even knew the coach had kids, let alone a daughter. The bar was crowded, it was a rival team against some other team the city happened to give less of a shit about. The players were on an off day enjoying their few hours off the ice and of course the rough men chose a bar where they could watch a fucking hockey game and shoot shit.

You'd finally found a table with a decent view of one of the many TVs and the bar so you could easily get up and get yourself a drink. But your new male coworker offered to bully his way through the players for you, ending up at the end of the bar by a bulky curly haired man and loud ass ash blonde. Getting caught up in the game and taking your eyes off your coworker but only for a moment.

“Are you trying to spike her drink?” A thick scarred hand is over one of the glasses on the bar top, your coworker flushed red.

“Huh?”

“Ya fuckin dumb?” The ash blonde reaches over the curly haired man, yanking your coworker’s tie harshly, effectively smashing the man's face into the polished wood.

“He said were ya tryin to date rape that pretty woman over there?” The blonde cocks his head in your direction, a group of eight eyes turn to look over their shoulder and then back at your shitty coworker. Who stammers, tried to get himself out of the lie before the sweetest, deadliest voice comes from the freckled sunshine boy of the team.

“Smile.” But there's nothing but malice in his eyes as he snaps the photo, immediately texting it to every bar owner he knows. (Half the city!) Your coworker fled and they offered up a seat at the bar for you but you politely declined after that they periodically glanced back to see if you left yet and if you were still okay.

So it wasn't like the only thing they wanted was to get their dick wet right?

Bedsides what probably made you super hot to them was the fact that you were the coach’s daughter, aka off limits.

Sighing as you watch them skate around the rink gracefully despite their size, Izuku and Katsuki passing to one another before taking shots at Kirishima in his full gear as they all warm up. Soon the stadium will be packed with throngs of people pressing into the glass behind you. Most of them rival fans banging on the plexi in hopes to distract or rile up the team, not realizing you'd be distraction enough.

Because all night a pair of emerald and bromine eyes will be glued to you. One giving his killer smile and the other smirking as he delivers a deadly wink.

#literally just rambling like a senile woman at this point lmfao

[moonlinos]

Invisible string (pt. II)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: Minho is even more determined to make you see the good in love after falling for you, while you’re too preoccupied with thinking you’re not good enough for him.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, smut, friends to lovers, pining

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), hand job, fingering, like two seconds of nipple play, slut shaming, swearing

♡ Word count: 13.2k

♡ A/N: I got such a great response on the first part 🥲 thank you to everyone who left feedback. It means a lot more than you realize. I researched what to do on a trip to Japan so extensively just to write this part that I got sad I’ve never traveled there 🫠

← part I ♡ part III →

The night after you and Minho watched the light show, you stayed awake until four in the morning with your roommates as Eunha cried about her ex-boyfriend. You’ve never been the type to hope for someone’s misery, but that guy is deserving of every terrible thing that could happen to him.

After she calmed down, you fell asleep together on the couch. You only managed to check your phone in the morning, finding it thrown on your bed along with your bag. Minho’s string of messages put a smile on your face. You could use the time away from everything, even if it was only for a weekend.

You agreed to his strange invitation without thinking twice. You did, however, insist on paying for your hotel room. Chan was already being far too generous in offering you his place on a trip he had paid for.

Soon enough, two weeks flew by and the Friday of your trip finally arrived.

You’re already waiting outside of your house when Minho’s car arrives. He greets you with a hug, taking your backpack from your hands and placing it on the backseat. He opens the passenger door for you, waits until you’re settled in your seat, and only then closes the door and walks around the car. It’s something he does every time you go out together and it always makes you smile, even though it’s such a minor detail.

“You know, you’re my first friend who can drive,” you comment as he enters the car. “You shot up a lot of spots on my favorite friends’ list just by saving me from taking the bus.”

Minho chuckles. “And here I foolishly thought you liked me for my personality,” he feigns offense, shaking his head. “I actually only know how to drive because of my mom. I was moving to the countryside, and she got really worried I was gonna be stranded there, so she gave me a car when I graduated.”

You raise your brows. “You lived in the countryside?”

“Yep, I moved to Gurye right after graduating high school,” he explains simply, starting the car.

You nod slowly. Truthfully, you wanted to ask more questions but didn’t want to seem intrusive. Minho had never told you a lot about his life before starting university — the only things you know are that he has three cats back home in Gimpo and started college late for some reason. You figure he’s a private person who will hopefully open up to you once he’s ready. You couldn’t blame him either; you also desperately pretended as if your life before university didn’t exist.

As you two sit in the car, moving slowly through the awful Friday night traffic, you feel the familiar thoughts of panic overflow your mind. This trip felt almost romantic; just you and Minho in Japan for an entire weekend. You should be running away from shit like this, should be shutting him out before anything more than friendship blossoms between the two of you.

Your fingers pick on the fabric of your sheer tights, pulling and pinching apprehensively as your mind races. Because, at the end of the day, Minho is still a guy. He’s still capable of breaking your heart in the same ways it was broken before, and maybe even in new ways. He could still cheat on you, fall in love with someone else, treat you like nothing more than an object or a nuisance in his life, wake up one day and simply decide he’s had enough of you.

But he’s also Minho.

Your heart quickly countered every single reason your brain came up with on why you should run away from the situation.

How could Minho, who believes that love doesn’t allow you to hurt the person you love because it feels like you’re hurting yourself, cheat on you?

How could Minho, who told you that love makes it so that you can only see the one you love, fall in love with someone else?

How could Minho, who does stupid romance movie shit like opening car doors and pulling out chairs for you, insisting that he should walk on the street side when you’re together, reading classic novels, learning how to cook so his mom doesn’t have to, all while having three fucking cats, possibly break your heart?

Part of you hates how you have to do mental gymnastics to even consider allowing yourself to feel something more for a guy, but a bigger part knows the hurt that inevitably comes with love isn’t worth it.

You hear a soft chuckle beside you, and you lift your gaze to find Minho smiling at you as you stop at a red light.

“Is that a style thing?” He asks, gesturing toward your thighs with a nod. You furrow your brows. The light turns green, and his attention is back on the road, a grin spread across his lips. “Ripping holes in your tights. Is that a style thing?”

You look down toward your legs and grimace as you realize you had mindlessly torn two holes in your tights while overthinking. You mentally curse yourself.

“I’m cold,” you lie with an awkward giggle. “Was trying to warm myself up.”

Minho hums, stepping on the brakes as you encounter another traffic jam. He unbuckles his seat belt, turns his body toward the back seat, and retrieves his jacket before draping it over your thighs. He shoots you a small smile and turns his attention back toward the road.

The side of your brain that was against Minho and anything romantic with him just a few moments ago is completely swallowed up, dissipating as you ultimately admit to yourself that you don’t hate the prospect of this being a romantic trip as long as it’s with him.

God, you really don’t hate it one bit.

You two finally arrive at the airport just in time to board your flight with no issues. You’re not big on flying, but the flight is just a little over two hours, and Minho is such a calming presence next to you. He quietly read you some harlequin romance he picked up at the airport bookstore, and you two laughed a bit too loudly at the over-the-top plot and theatrical writing. The two of you were taken aback as the book turned out to be erotica, but hearing Minho dramatically read to you in a whisper about the hunky love interest and his manhood made you laugh until tears formed in your eyes.

After that, you two somehow end up talking about your lives back home. Minho shares how he always cooks Christmas dinner for his family, and his favorite part of the night is always the praises his grandmother throws his way. He explains that although he started cooking simply to help his mother, he found that he genuinely enjoyed it. He said he missed doing it every day, having stopped because his roommates had begun treating him as nothing more than a personal cook. You listen to his every word with a smile on your face that you can’t hide. It feels like he’s slowly opening up more to you about his life outside of university, and even something as small as this detail about his home life makes you feel closer to him.

The flight is so pleasant that you only realize you’ve landed once you see Minho unbuckling his seat belt.

You two take an Uber to the hotel, arriving in thirty minutes — you insist on paying since you’re basically here for free. You stare out the car window in awe the entire ride, Minho fondly laughing at your amazement.

As you arrive, you struggle with your backpack, pulling it out of the backseat with such force you would have fallen backward had it not been for Minho’s hands holding your shoulders. He asks if you’re okay with a chuckle, and you groan about how heavy your backpack is. Packing light wasn’t your forte.

As you two walk toward the hotel entrance, the weight on your shoulders disappears suddenly. You furrow your brows and look behind you. Minho had nonchalantly picked your backpack up by the handle and lifted it off your shoulders, carrying all the weight in his arms. You bite back a smile, murmuring a thank you. He just nods, like he hasn’t just done yet another thing you thought only happened in books written by women.

You feel that damn pinwheel return to your chest, making you feel a kind of thrill that you haven’t felt in a while. A good kind.

The hotel is relatively small, clearly on the cheap side, although it’s still quite charming. Minho mutters an apology as he catches you looking around the place.

“It was the only place I could afford being a broke college student,” He explains with a sheepish chuckle, and you shake your head.

“It’s lovely. I’m so happy to be here, I think I wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

Minho is the one who checks you in, speaking in near-perfect Japanese to the front desk clerk. You focus on the wood chipping on the table and bite the inside of your cheek as you inwardly berate yourself for finding it so damn attractive. It was different from your classes or your small study sessions. You had never truly grasped just how good Minho was until right now. You didn’t understand a word he said. All you know is that he sounded too sexy for his own good while saying it.

Minho hands you the key and tells you the room number, and you finally make your way up the stairs. He walks beside you the whole way, and you wonder if his room is on the same floor as yours or if he’s just doing this so he can hold your backpack off your shoulders.

As you reach your room on the third floor, he stops you before you can insert the key into the door.

“Before you go inside…” He trails off, pursing his lips before letting out a sigh. “I — we could only afford to pay for one room, so this is actually our room.”

Your eyes widen for a second before you nod slowly. “Oh. It’s… okay,” you assure him, although there’s very little confidence in your voice. The prospect of sharing a bed with Minho makes you nervous, but not for the reasons you thought it would.

“There are two beds! Of course,” He assures you, and you mentally slap yourself on the forehead for feeling disappointed at this information.

It’s because you’ve exclusively been having sex with Hyunjin for so long, you reason with yourself. Your hormones must be making you stupid, making you want something more with someone else who isn’t him.

Yeah, that’s it.

Minho’s your friend, after all. It wouldn’t make sense for you to want anything more with him.

It’s just your stupid hormones.

You turn the key and open the door, stepping inside the tiny room with Minho. The two beds were so close together due to the room size that they might as well be just one. The only other piece of furniture is a bedside table, which basically connects the two beds.

It’s only once you slide your backpack straps off your shoulders that Minho lets go of the handle, and you toss it on the plain white sheets of the bed to your right by the bathroom door.

Feeling a chill run through your body, you let out a groan. The heater in your room is clearly not the best.

“Tights and a skirt weren’t the right choice for this weather. This shitty heater also isn’t helping,” you grumble.

Minho chuckles behind you, and you hear the sound of the bed springs as he all but throws himself onto the bed. “Poking holes in your tights probably didn’t help either,” he jokes, and you force out a chuckle.

It seems you chose today to act like a complete idiot.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom to change into your warm sleep clothes. The first thing you notice as you walk out into the room again is Minho’s bright orange sweater with a cat knitted on the front. He’s lying down, his back resting on the wall since the beds don’t have a headboard, and the color of his sweater might be a bit offensive to the eyes, but it’s quickly forgiven once you take in the kitten adorning the fabric.

You giggle, and he looks up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours.

“Your sweater is really cute,” you tell him as you sit down in your bed, crossing your legs in an attempt to warm yourself a bit more.

Minho grins. “I know,” He says smugly, “It reminds me of two of my cats because of the color.”

“You know,” you hummed, “You never showed me any pictures of your cats.”

You watch as his eyes light up at your words. He locks his phone before quickly turning it to face you, showing you his wallpaper. Your lips stretch into a fond smile as you analyze the picture: Minho holding an orange and white cat close to his face with a grin, a butterfly filter cutely adorning his nose.

“This is Soonie, he’s the first cat I got,” He explains, turning his head so he could look at the screen as well, “I was thirteen when I adopted him, and I remember begging my parents for almost three months until they agreed. In the end, they loved him so much they allowed me to adopt another one.”

Minho unlocks his phone and opens his gallery, flipping through his pictures like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You purse your lips. It feels like you’re intruding, even though he’s the one who hasn’t moved the screen an inch. You couldn’t think of one person you’d trust enough to so freely view every single picture you had on your phone like this. Minho really was something else.

Most of his gallery is composed of blurry food pictures mixed with pages and covers of books and computer screens filled with codes. Until he reaches a point — before he started university, you assume — where the only thing you can see is pictures of cats.

He stops scrolling and clicks a picture of the same orange cat, this time wearing glasses and a hat. You snort because, of course he dresses his cats in clothes.

“Soonie is adorable,” you beam. Minho furrows his brows and shakes his head, looking at you like he’s offended.

“This is Doongie,” he states like it’s obvious, “The second cat I adopted.”

Your brows furrow as well. “Minho, that’s the same cat.”

He clicks his tongue, closing the picture and scrolling before opening another one; two orange and white cats lay together on a cat tree. Your lips fall open.

“See? This one is Soonie, he has a white nose. And this one is Doongie, his nose is orange,” He explains, and you nod, knowing full well you’d be dead if your life depended on distinguishing these two cats. “Doongie is the middle child, so he’s more temperamental.”

You stifle a giggle at him talking about his cats like they’re his children, much like you do.

He closes the picture once again and scrolls down further. His fingers hover over a picture for a couple of seconds, like he’s hesitating before he ultimately opens it. The screen fills with the image of a younger Minho smiling while holding a gray cat. His wire-frame glasses were round, unlike his current ones, and his black hair used to be shorter. The picture has clearly been cropped, only half of the cat’s body still visible.

“This is Dori. He’s the last cat I got, and he’s actually the only one I call my son.” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “I adopted him with my ex-girlfriend. She wanted a dog, but I fell in love with Dori as soon as I laid eyes on him on the website, so she had no choice but to accept him.”

You watch as he smiles at the picture and the memory. You absentmindedly fiddle with your fingers on your lap, an all too familiar ugly feeling bubbling inside you. Jealousy. Not because Minho mentioned a girlfriend — you wish it was as simple as that. Jealousy consumed you when you were forced to face the reality that people have healthy relationships, where one partner sacrifices their own desires just to please their loved one. Where you make plans to adopt a kitten together just so you can call it your son. You know damn well you were never even close to having something even remotely similar to that.

You shake the feeling off, forcing out a smile. “He’s really cute,” you tell Minho, “And he’s my favorite, ‘cause at least I can tell him apart from the other two.”

Minho chuckles, scrunching his nose as he locks his phone and rests it on his thigh.

  You two settle into bed after Minho walked you through the day he and Chan had planned for tomorrow. He had organized everything neatly in a travel planning app — from where you would be going down to an estimate of how much you would be spending. You always preferred roughly planning things out mentally whenever you traveled, mostly enjoying going with the flow.

Among all your coincidentally similar little incidents, you finally found something in which you two are complete opposites.

That should, in theory, annoy you, but you can’t help but find his meticulousness endearing. You can just picture him searching tirelessly online, crunching numbers and jotting everything down. The image is too adorable for you to be mad.

“Guess we finally found somewhere we’re different,” you mention with a smile as you tuck yourself into your sheets. Minho remains sitting on his bed, putting his glasses on their case.

He hums. “Rather than different, maybe we just complement each other in this case? You hate organizing, and I fucking love to do it, as you just saw,” he chuckles, “We’d be a great team. I plan everything, and all you have to do is show up.”

You nod with a smile, going over the places he chose in your head. You were excited for all but one: the very first one on the list, Inokashira Park.

“You know,” you start with a sigh, Minho’s eyes finding yours in the dimly lit room. “I never talk about this, but I weirdly feel like I can tell you anything. Nobody from our friend group knows this but…” you trail off, gripping the scratchy fabric of the comforter. “One of my ex-boyfriends cheated on me during a family trip to Japan when I was seventeen. I found out ‘cause the girl he hooked up with tagged him in pictures on Instagram. They were together in Inokashira Park.”

Minho hums, his eyes studying your face. After a beat of silence, he shrugs.

“We can skip that if you want to. I just—” He purses his lips, shifting on the mattress. “I just don’t think you should deprive yourself of the experience just because of a bad memory. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

You nod, taking in his words. He was right. You were positive none of your exes ever deprived themselves of going back to places where they cheated on you, so why should you? They were the ones in the wrong, the ones who hurt and betrayed you, so why should you be the one to bear the trauma?

Minho rests his back against the wall, playing with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. “Is that why you don’t believe in love anymore? Don’t feel like you have to answer! I just… I wondered…” He faltered, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “I wondered what could have happened to make you feel that way.”

“Well, that was just one of five times when love proved to kind of hate my guts,” you chuckle. You didn’t understand why, but the words you held back for so long were bubbling at your throat, ready to spill out. And you were willing to let them. Even if only to a certain extent, you were ready to talk about this pathetic side of your life. You would rationalize it all later. Right now, you simply wanted to talk.

“I’ve had five boyfriends in my life, and they were all terrible in some way. I know, it’s a lot of relationships considering my age.” You scrunch up your face, cringing when you voice out the number.

Minho chuckles, and you’re ready for him to agree.

“It’s really not. There’s no right or wrong number of people to date during your teenage years or your twenties.” You open your eyes to find him leaning on his side, looking at you dismissively. “Some people date more, some date less, some people don’t even date at all. Either way, it’s fine.”

Your lips open and close, then open again. You had always expected people’s reactions to be the same as the ones you heard during high school. From your classmates to your ex-boyfriends, even your friends at the time, they all seemed to be in unanimous agreement that you were at fault for having dated so much in such a brief period. You never thought that maybe people with different opinions existed. And that, maybe, those people would be the ones who you care the most about.

Thinking about it now, after hearing Minho’s words, you were certain neither Eunha nor Soojung — or any of your friends, for that matter — would ever think badly about you or shame you simply because you’ve had five boyfriends. It seemed silly even to think that way now.

It was sad how much your teenage traumas undeniably affected your perception of reality.

Minho is the one to break the silence, his soft voice pulling you away from your thoughts.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. I promise you, the memories we make on this trip will be good enough that they override this lousy one,” he vows with a small nod. “And, more than ever before, I truly hope I can change your view of love.”

You smile at his words. “I surprisingly feel my thoughts about many things changing. Love is one of them.”

“I’m glad,” he hums, finally slipping under his covers. “Y’know, love isn’t only romantic. You say you’re closed off to love, that’s really a lie,” he states matter-of-factly, a smug grin spreading across his lips. You bite back a smile and raise your eyebrows at him. He continues, “The love you feel for your family and your friends, platonic love, that’s also love. I’ve been around you long enough to know just how much you love your friends.”

To say you loved your friends almost didn’t seem sufficient. After graduating high school, you left behind all the judgmental and toxic friends you had. You are immensely grateful to have found such good people at university. Eunha and Soojung were the housemates of your dreams, the three of you so different that it truthfully shouldn’t work, but it simply did. Hyunjin becoming your best friend was also a surprise; he was younger than you, and you had never been friends with a guy before — in part thanks to your jealous boyfriends — but he carved out a space for himself in your life and refused to leave. And you were so thankful for that.

And then there was Minho, who had come out of the blue into your life and just as suddenly became such an important person to you. From the way you two first met to your little similarities and how well you got along in such a short time, it was as if fate pulled you toward him.

You smile.

“I do love them,” you tell him, fiddling with your fingers under the white comforter. “And I love you, too, Minho. You’re my friend, after all. In a way, you’re already succeeding in changing my view of love just by being you.”

Minho’s eyes blink rapidly as he looks at you, his parted lips making him look like a confused child before they close. He hums, nodding as a small smile spreads on his lips, which quickly grows bigger and bigger until he’s basically giggling. He hides his face behind his hand, clearing his throat. You feel warmth spread across your chest at the sight. You’re sure if the lights were brighter, you’d be able to see his ears turning red.

You shake your head with a chuckle. The mood has suddenly become a bit too emotional, and you still find yourself running away from these things. However, you were proud of your progress tonight. Talking about love and your past — especially regarding your ex-boyfriends — was already a huge step for you.

You hope Minho knows he’s part of the reason you’re able to take this step in the first place.

“Okay, your turn.” You sit up on the bed, the white comforter pooling on your lap. “I’m curious too, y’know. You’re such a love enthusiast,” you tease him with a grin, earning you a chuckle from Minho, who throws his head back. “Tell me about your romantic experiences.”

He mirrors you and sits up on his bed. “Experience. I’ve only had one girlfriend,” he corrects you, “We met on the first day of high school and began dating the year after that, when we were sixteen. We were together until I was just about to turn twenty-one, so…” he trails off with a deep sigh. “Yeah, it was quite the long first relationship.”

“My five relationships combined didn’t last as long as that.” You click your tongue, and Minho lets out a breathy laugh. “Why did you two break up after being together for so long?” You blurt out before you can process the words inside your head. Annoyed with your own self, you scrunch up your face. You really chose today to be an idiot. “If that’s okay for me to ask! Sorry for being nosy, I’m just— I guess I’m curious.”

Minho smiles at you, a fond smile he always shoots your way whenever you are word-vomiting. Much like your other friends, he had quickly adapted to your habit of spilling out words before thinking about them.

“It’s a bit of a long story. Basically, she wanted a quiet and simple life in the countryside, so I did that for her,” he explains, shrugging dismissively. So that was the reason he had moved to Gurye after finishing school. “I began saving up money at eighteen with my job at the convenience store while she gave piano lessons to the kids in our neighborhood, and we moved on her twentieth birthday. I figured I could just do programming jobs from home, anyway, so I completely gave up on my plans to attend university…” Minho trails off, his voice all but a whisper at the end of the sentence. He shakes his head, a bitter chuckle leaving his lips as he continues, “I kind of wanna kick myself in the face for that now. It fucking sucks to have started university so late, but it was my own decision. I guess you say stupid shit when you’re nervous, and I do stupid shit when I’m in love.”

You had never met someone who would abandon so much of themselves for the person they loved. It made Minho even more admirable to you. However, even though it was his own decision, he clearly came to regret it. People often say love is all about compromises, and you couldn’t help but feel like Minho had been the only one to give up anything in this scenario.

“Were your parents okay with you two making such a drastic move?” You question, your curiosity bubbling inside your chest.

Minho scoffs. “Of course they weren’t. Especially my dad. But we were nearing our twenties, so there wasn’t much they could do to stop us.”

He drums his fingers on his thighs, and you wonder if this subject brought back sour memories — or maybe even good ones he just didn’t like remembering because they had become part of the past. You want to tell him it’s okay if he doesn’t want to talk about it any longer, but he’s continuing his story before you can speak.

“We adopted Dori and left a week later. We were pretty much broke. All we could afford was a small cottage that hadn’t been renovated in over a decade, but we were happy,” Minho’s voice is soft as he speaks, a smile forming on his lips as he stares ahead, almost as if he’s reliving those moments in his head. “We talked about growing old together and raising our kids in that cottage. And we — god, looking back, this was so stupid it’s fucking funny,” He chuckled, shaking his head and raising his gaze to meet yours. “We were actually trying to get pregnant. We barely had money to feed Dori and ourselves, yet it still crushed us every time that test read negative.”

You feel your expression change, a blend of astonishment and admiration washing over you. They must’ve truly been in love. You felt a slight pang of hurt and envy run through your body; it truly was so easy for other people when it came to love.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” you lament, although you’re not sure if you’re talking about the pregnancy or the entire relationship.

Minho shakes his head, scrunching his nose. “Don’t feel bad, it was a blessing in disguise. I can’t imagine how the fuck we would ever manage to raise a baby at that time.”

“It seems like you two had the perfect relationship.” You force out a smile, waging war against your bitter jealousy.

“It was perfect, until it wasn’t,” Minho shrugs dismissively, “We began to fight a lot after a while. Haneul would always get upset at me for not doing things the way she thought I should do them, down to replying in a way that didn’t fit with what she had hoped I would say. And I was the same, always getting frustrated when she disagreed with me, even if it was about something silly like what to have for dinner. We used to be able to talk it out and come to an agreement in the past — it wasn’t for nothing that we were together for so long — but being in that little cottage, just us two all the time, it became suffocating.”

“Is that why you two broke up?”

Minho nods. “We realized we were merely playing house. Neither of us was happy anymore,” he explains, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “It was like we each had a script inside our heads of what the other should say or how they should act. It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we mutually decided to end things before they got worse.”

Your fingers fiddle with a loose thread on the white cover. You had always been envious of this type of relationship, but you never thought to think about the fact that they can also come to an end. It always seemed to you that your relationships never worked because they weren’t perfect, like the relationships you saw in books or movies — like the one Minho had described with his ex-girlfriend.

You never once rationalized that even perfect things can ebb away. That nothing lasts forever, even if it seems utterly ideal.

“I know how terrible breakups are,” you tell him. “I can only imagine how much worse it must’ve been to you two after so many years together.”

Minho shakes his head with a smile. “I never really felt hurt by it. It was such a perfect breakup she even let me keep Dori without going through a custody battle,” he jokes, raising his eyebrows at you.

“How can it not have hurt you?” You let out an incredulous laugh. “You were in love, planning to start a family, and you tell me it didn’t hurt when it ended? That’s bullshit, Minho.”

He looks up at the ceiling, like he’s trying to find the words to explain to you. He hums. “Well, I loved Haneul. I loved her so very much, with every fiber of my being. She was my first love. My mom once said we were probably a couple in another life as well, and I fucking loved that,” He chuckles, “The idea that someone was destined for me and I was destined for them, that we were fated to find each other and be together across lifetimes.”

“Like soulmates?” You ask.

He nods. “Soulmates, yes. That’s what we were. And, after we broke up, I realized maybe people’s understanding of soulmates is wrong. At least to me,” He shrugs.

You let out a chuckle. He really turned a terrible situation into a chance to reevaluate his beliefs. It was the most Minho thing you had ever heard.

“How are people understanding it wrong, then?” You question him, resting your chin on the palm of your hand and looking at him. Minho mirrors your actions, a grin etched onto his lips. 

“Well, for starters, you can have many soulmates in one lifetime.” You furrow your brows, opening your mouth to ask him more questions, but he quickly adds, “For example, Haneul was my soulmate and there’s no doubt about it in my mind. But it ended, because it was time for it to end. I learned everything I had to learn with her, and she did the same. We couldn’t grow together anymore, so there was no point in staying together.”

Biting your lip, you nod. “I never thought of it that way. You ask anyone and they’ll tell you that a soulmate is unique.”

“It may be so to some people, but I find that way of thinking a bit unfair,” he shrugs. “Haneul found someone new. Wouldn’t it be unfair for me to say her new relationship is inferior to ours simply because we were soulmates? We were soulmates, but our time to be together has passed and she’s with the soulmate she’s supposed to be right now.”

You hum, tapping your fingers against your cheek. “I guess it does make sense.”

He shrugs, feigning smugness. “I am quite the smart man.”

“What about you?” You question, smiling at him, “Have you ever found a new soulmate after that relationship?”

Minho clears his throat, his gaze shifting to look at where his sock-clad feet poked out from underneath the comforter. You could swear you see a tiny smile on his lips.

“I think I did,” He answers with a questioning lilt. “There were some signs, and a lot of things that aligned.” His gaze lifts once more to meet your eyes as he continues, “Makes me think maybe I’ve found her.”

As you take in his words, jealousy rears its ugly head, the feeling almost swallowing you whole. You gnaw on your bottom lip. The way Minho made you feel at times was questionable at best, but you chalk it all up to your jealous nature. You’d always gotten jealous when your friends found new friendships or when they started relationships.

However, that feeling was a bit different from the one currently making you want to bite your lip until it bled out of sheer and petty jealousy.

You let out a heavy sigh, pushing all those thoughts into a neat little box inside your head and locking them up.

“You’re really lucky,” you tell him, and Minho cocks an eyebrow. “That’s why you think love can only be good, because your only experience with it was long-lasting and good until the very end. I’d much rather have love fizzle out than have it end in a way that ended me as well. That’s how it’s always been with me, and I guess that’s why I came to hate love a little bit.”

Minho smiles at you, a genuine smile that reaches his brown eyes. “Well, sometimes love lasts forever,” he asserts, “So you shouldn’t think about how it’s going to end.”

You can feel the pinwheel inside your chest spinning, causing your heart to skip a beat and your cheeks to blush pink. Forcing out a chuckle, you lie on your bed and pull the covers up to your nose.

“You’re back to your hopeless romantic ways.”

“I never stopped,” He corrects you. He lies down as well, facing you, his hand reaching out to turn off the lamp that sat on the bedside table. “Even when I thought you had a boyfriend,” Minho continues, “I was still able to be a hopeless romantic.”

You feel your eyes widen at his words, thanking the darkness that covers you both as confusion and shock swim in your eyes. Did Minho subtly admit he liked you? Were you reading too much into things? Why did this not scare you? It should scare you, should make you terrified, as this is the very thing you’ve been running away from.

You were probably over-analyzing his words.

But why did you hope that wasn’t the case?

The two of you wake up early, hitting the streets of Tokyo immediately after getting dressed. Minho’s list definitely made things easier, with you two hopping from place to place before crossing them out one by one on his phone. Your favorite so far had been the cat café you two went to for breakfast, where you spent the entire hour watching Minho petting and playing with the kittens, the smile on your lips so fond that it probably made you look stupid.

But as you walk around Inokashira Park, that quickly drops to second place on your mental list. It was a beautiful place, especially in the late afternoon sun. As soon as you arrived, Minho took your hand in his without a word. It was unexpected, to say the least, but you were even more surprised to find yourself liking the gesture. You squeezed his hand, smiling at him, before lacing your fingers together.

Your heart was racing so fast you were certain that damn pinwheel brought along a friend today.

After walking around for a bit, Minho abruptly stopped, letting go of your hand and moving to stand behind you. You furrowed your brows as his hands came to cover your eyes. With his lips incredibly close to your ears, he whispered, “I have a surprise. It’s a place that wasn’t on the list. A museum I think you’ll like.”

You felt goosebumps rise all over your body at the sound of his low voice coupled with his breath tickling your skin. You silently thanked the cold weather — had you not been wearing long sleeves, Minho would have seen the effect he had on you, and you would’ve had no other choice but to throw yourself in front of a taxi on the way back to the hotel.

The two of you waddled awkwardly, Minho still standing behind you with his hands over your eyes. He giggled the whole way to your destination. You were too immersed in not focusing on how his body brushed up against yours with every step you took to even think about laughing.

His broad chest so warm against your back, his arms wrapped around you, his lips grazing your neck once as he bent down to whisper something about the museum being just around the corner, and his lower body continuously brushing and rubbing against your ass as you two walked. You had to fight the urge to push your body against his every time that happened, wondering if that would be enough to get him hard.

After Minho’s supposed confession last night, your mind had truly thrown every bit of worry and shame you felt about being attracted to him out the window.

It felt almost liberating, being able to say fuck it and simply feel.

So you were attracted to Minho; why should it be a big deal? You shouldn't deprive yourself of these silly experiences just because love scares you.

Maybe being scared was okay sometimes. Maybe it was worth it for the right people.

Just as your mind was running wild with thoughts of Minho’s body pressed up against yours, his voice whispered in your ear again. You had arrived, he announced, removing his hands from your eyes.

As your eyes adjusted to the light, you made out the words on a wooden sign before you. Minho had taken you to the Ghibli Museum. Before you could stop yourself, you were throwing your arms around his neck with a gasp.

You could just kiss him at that moment. That was how happy you were.

After walking around the museum with a smile engraved onto your lips, your cheeks hurt in the best way possible. Minho hurried you as you looked through the overly expensive gift shop, reminding you that the swan paddle boats would be closing soon. You whined but ultimately had no choice but to leave the shop as he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the exit. Mourning the loss of a Soot Sprite plush perfect for your collection, you grumbled to Minho about how he had no heart as you two ran across the park.

You made it just in time, being the last ones in line on the pier. Minho insisted on paying for your tickets, and you agreed only after he explained it would be your compensation for the loss of your precious plushie.

And now you sit beside him on a swan paddle boat, failing miserably at containing your giggles as Minho adjusts his life jacket.

“You know,” He starts with a dramatic sigh, “You’re not gonna be laughing if we crash and you drown.”

You poke his arm, making him look at you just as a smile spreads across his lips. “I’m only laughing ‘cause you look real cute.”

You begin to paddle, and it is surprisingly easy — especially because Minho is the one guiding the boat with a steering wheel. The scenery is quite dull because of the cold season, with most trees already bare of leaves and the sky a blend of pale blue and white.

“I wish it was spring,” Minho speaks beside you as if he’s read your thoughts. “The cherry blossoms are fucking gorgeous.”

You look over at him, his eyes fixed ahead as he steers the boat around the pond. His glasses reflect the pale sky and obscure his eyes, but you’re sure he’s blinking rapidly like he usually does whenever he’s focused.

“Did you come here with your ex-girlfriend in spring?” You blurt out.

Minho’s lips stretch into a grin as he turns to face you.

“No,” he answers simply. “But I want to come with you.”

It’s only then you realize he had been doing most of the work paddling, as he easily controls the speed at which the boat glides across the water, slowing down until you two are stopped at the edge of the pond.

Your mind races, but not as hard as your heart does.

“With me?”

“With you.”

His eyes are fixed on yours, and his left hand grips the steering wheel tightly. You part your lips, but only silence is stuck in your throat. Drawing yourself out of the impromptu staring contest the two of you had gotten into, your eyes shift down to stare at your purse which lay across your lap.

You softly utter the only two words your mind can conjure up. “Why me?”

“Because I like you,” Minho’s voice is also quiet. You hear him shuffling beside you, turning his body so he fully faces you. “I know you’re scared, and you feel like you’re protecting yourself, but I’m—” He cuts himself off abruptly, and your eyes shoot up to find him biting his lip, his brows furrowed. He lets out a sigh. “I like you so much I think I might implode if I do nothing about it.”

Your breath hitched audibly. There is still a part of you that’s screaming out run away, this is terrifying, you’re on your way to another heart-wrenching breakup — but that part has become so minuscule, so insignificant now, it feels like nothing but muffled background noise inside your head. Because a much bigger part of you is begging for you to just say, “Then do something about it.”

And he does.

Minho’s hand leaves the wheel and gingerly touches your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin before he closes the distance between you. It isn’t the first time you kiss Minho, but it is certainly the first time your entire being is fully enveloped in only him; from the way his slightly chapped lips still felt so soft against your own to how his strong hand finds your waist and pulls you closer to him.

And his taste. Minho coaxes your mouth open with his tongue and licks into it, your senses being taken over by the taste of the watermelon candy he’d been eating all day until you’re positively drunk on him. Your heart racing and your hands shaking like a teenager having their first kiss.

You go to grab his shirt, desperate to pull him even closer to you, but your hands collide with the damn life jacket he’s wearing. You whine into the kiss, annoyed, and Minho only chuckles against your lips. He bites your lower lip, pulling softly before releasing it and pressing another kiss to your pout.

“I take back what I said, the life jacket isn’t cute,” you mumble against his lips. His smile grows, and his lips crash against yours again, his hands tangling in your hair.

He groans into the kiss, barely pulling away before whispering, “Don’t wanna stop kissing you.”

You hum. “Well, you can kiss me anytime now.”

Minho’s lips spread into a grin, and he closes the small distance between you for one last kiss before he pulls away, your noses brushing. His eyes are dark yet soft, as if longing and affection had melted together.

“I want to be with you,” He says, “But I want you to think about it before you say anything because I know how scared you are of love. And if by the end of our trip I haven’t given you enough reasons to give me a chance, I’ll let you go and move on with my life. If you want to stay friends, I’ll happily do that. And if you never want to see me again, I’ll also respect that.”

Your heart swells with his words because Minho is the complete antithesis of everything your ex-boyfriends taught you that men were.

And, for the first time in so long, you feel the kind of nervousness that’s nothing but good. The kind that leaves you with trembling hands, a racing heart, and a dizzy head. The kind that only love can provide.

Despite his request, you’re eager to answer him right then and there, but just as you’re about to speak, the sky roars and dark clouds gather above. You jump in your seat at the sound, and Minho’s hands instinctively wrap around your shoulders and squeeze. You smile, simply nodding your head and giving his lips a small kiss.

Minho struggles a bit, but he’s eventually able to turn the paddle boat around, and you two begin to paddle back toward the pier. The light rain quickly becomes heavy raindrops drumming on the roof of the boat, and you dread the walk back to the hotel as neither of you thought to bring an umbrella.

“Y'know,” Minho starts. “There’s a myth here in Japan that says if you ride this boat with a girlfriend, then you’ll break up soon. I kinda always believed that.”

You let out a chuckle. “Really?”

He hums, nodding his head. “So I’m choosing to also believe that if you ride it with someone you like, they will become your girlfriend soon.”

Minho turns to look at you with a smile as you stop at the pier, removing his life jacket and exiting the boat without another word. You bite the inside of your cheek in a failed attempt at holding back a smile. Minho helps you out of the boat, his hand taking yours and pulling you toward him gently.

You two run back to the hotel, Minho holding you close to him with his hand around your waist. The streets are mostly empty as people squeeze under bus stops and shop awnings to shelter from the rain, and it almost feels like you and Minho are the only people in Tokyo that night.

You two giggle the whole way to the hotel. Even when you are struck with the realization that the power has shut off on the entire street upon arriving, you simply turn to each other and laugh even more.

You clumsily manage to take a brief shower in the darkness, changing into your sleep clothes as quickly as you can. You realize with a grimace that if your room was cold before, with the shitty hotel heater on, it’s basically turned into an icebox now.

Wrapping yourself up in your comforter, you shiver with a groan just as Minho walks out of the bathroom.

“Bet you miss that shitty heater now, huh?” He jokes, and you faintly make out his silhouette in the dim light of the moon coming from the window.

You let out another groan. “I'm gonna freeze to death tonight. I've made peace with that. Thaw me with a hairdryer in the morning, please.”

Minho chuckles, sitting on his bed as he checks his phone. You make out his features in the moonlight coming from the window, and he’s wearing another sweater, black with more cats printed on it.

Such a cozy, warm-looking sweater. You curse yourself inwardly for only packing t-shirts to sleep.

As he locks his phone, an idea hits you, and your words are faster than your thoughts — as they always seem to be whenever you’re around Minho.

“Can I lay with you for a bit?” You ask, “Just for a bit, until I get warm? My bed is right under this damn window, and I don’t have any sweaters I can sleep in, and I know I joked about making peace with freezing but—”

Minho cuts you off by calling out your name with a chuckle. “It's okay. You don’t need to make up a thousand excuses. I'm cold, too,” He says simply, scooting to the side to make room for you in his bed. “Come here.”

You smile, ripping the covers from your body quickly like a band-aid and all but jumping from your mattress to his. Minho instructs you to lie on the left side of the bed, facing the wall. You furrow your brows.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “It’s like the sidewalk thing. So I can protect you if a serial killer comes into our room.”

“Oh, so a serial killer’s gonna come into our room?” You ask, a teasing lilt in your voice as you scoot on the bed and slip under the comforter. 

“Well, I—” Minho stammers, pausing with a sigh. He removes his glasses and places them on the bedside table before he continues, “I don’t know, okay? I just… wanna take care of you in every way possible. Even in this weird scenario that my mind made up.”

His words slip out of his lips quickly, much like yours do when you’re nervous and can’t make yourself stop talking. You wonder if your habit is rubbing off on him, and you can’t help but smile.

As Minho settles into bed, you feel your body stiffen up. The two of you lay on your backs next to each other in the cramped bed, and you feel like you can’t move. Hyunjin was the first guy you ever slept next to, and even then, it was after you two had already had sex, so there was no room for feeling awkward. With Minho, everything feels so new. If kissing him had made your hands shake, laying next to him makes your whole body tremble.

You lay like that for a while, watching as the thunder lights up the ceiling until Minho turns to lie on his side.

“Wouldn’t we get warmer if we cuddled?” He trails off in a whisper, clearing his throat after his words leave his mouth. 

You open your mouth to answer but know you’ll only end up word-vomiting again with how nervous you feel, so you simply nod, turning so you’re facing Minho as well.

His arms quickly find your waist, pulling you closer to him until your noses are touching, and you feel his breath on your lips as he lets out a sigh. Before you can make sense of what’s happening, Minho presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your lips, making your mind go hazy. You two stare at each other for a beat, your lips agape and eyes wandering through each other’s features until he breaks the silence.

“You make me nervous,” he whispers, taking your hand and guiding it towards his chest. You feel his heart beating quickly through the thick fabric of his sweater. “In the best way possible.”

You smile, whispering back, “You make me nervous, too.”

Clutching at the fabric of his sweater, you pull him closer to you, slotting your lips together once more. Minho’s hands hesitate, his left hand barely touching your back before he changes his mind and grazes your shoulder with his touch, only to settle for cupping your cheek. You smile into the kiss, taking his hand and placing it firmly on your waist. He grips the fabric of your shirt just as you did and brings your body flush against his.

The kiss is hurried, as if you two will be forced apart tomorrow and this is your only chance to feel each other. Minho licks the seam of your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you gasp. His firm grip on your waist, his body pressed against yours so tightly that you can feel his heartbeat thumping against your chest, and how with every stroke of his tongue, he devours you almost greedily — it’s downright impossible to keep the whine that forms in your throat from slipping out, Minho’s mouth swallowing the muffled sound.

And then he’s pulling away, and you’re left chasing his lips. He lets out a breathy chuckle at that.

“Let’s go to sleep, hm?” He suggests, his voice breathless. You can’t help but wonder if you practically moaning while simply kissing him had made him uncomfortable, and you inwardly berate yourself, mortification washing over you.

So you only nod, turning to face the wall so you can properly cuddle this time. Minho wraps an arm around your waist, and you wait for him to pull you closer, but he never does. You furrow your brows. Was it that bad? You can’t be faulted for reacting like you did, especially with how he kissed you. So you take it into your own hands to shift closer to his body. Your lips part as you feel his hard member pressing against your lower back.

Oh. 

So that’s what’s going on.

You bite back a grin, feeling Minho tense up behind you.

“And here I thought you were like a romantic lead in a PG-13 anime,” you joke, smiling as he chuckles, clearly more at ease. 

He uses the hand that had been resting against your stomach to pull you even closer to him, pressing his body against yours. “I am romantic,” He whispers, lips close to your ear. You only then realize he’s hovering over you. “But I’m still human.”

You fight back the urge to shudder at how his voice drops an octave, all low and soft, and, god, how his breath grazes your neck.

You search your brain for something to say but come up empty. Being nervous has rendered you speechless for the first time in your life.

“Let’s sleep now, okay?” Minho presses a quick kiss on your cheek. “I’ll lie far—”

“I can help you,” you blurt out, turning to face him. Going to sleep is the last thing you want right now. “If you want.”

His eyes wander across your face as he pulls on his bottom lip. “I don’t want to rush things.”

“There are ways to do this that aren’t… rushing.”

Minho hums, but his eyes are now fixed on your lips. You move to lie on your back, and he slowly climbs on top of you.

“As long as it’s okay with you, I don’t care what we do,” he whispers. You smile, pushing his black hair away from his face with your fingers.

“It’s more than okay with me,” You answer simply, using your hand on his hair to guide him down into yet another kiss. 

You can feel him still hesitating, so you grab a fistful of that silly sweater of his and pull him closer to you until your bodies are flush against each other.

“Can I touch you?” You ask, breaking the kiss. Minho nods hastily.

“Yes, please,” he groans, “I’m gonna die if you don’t.”

With a breathy chuckle, you move your hand between your two bodies, cupping him through his sweatpants; he’s even harder now, and you subconsciously bite your lip. He closes his eyes, his left hand resting on your waist before squeezing lightly as he hides his face in the crook of your neck with a shaky sigh. It might simply be because it’s your first time being intimate together, but Minho’s timidness is genuinely endearing to you.

Your palm grinds against him gingerly, and his body trembles under your touch. His hand travels from your waist toward your lower stomach, and you let out a quiet gasp as his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt. He lifts his head off your neck, his face so close to yours you can feel his unsteady breathing on your lips.

“Can I touch you, too?” He whispers, and you nod a bit too eagerly. 

“If you don’t, I think I’ll die too.”

Minho grins, his head dipping lower until his lips are pressed against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. You’d be lying if you said finding Minho so hard after only kissing you hadn’t turned you on — kissing him alone also made you more aroused than you were willing to admit. But you were more than ready to go to sleep without doing anything about it after offering to help him, so the fact that he wants to do the same for you makes your head spin. This was not on your bingo card of things that could happen during this trip.

He pulls your shirt up slightly, only enough for him to slip his hand inside your sweatpants. He hesitates twice before cupping you through your underwear. His dark eyes meet yours, whispering against your lips, “You’re fucking soaking through your panties, and you weren’t gonna tell me?”

You gasp at his words, clenching around nothing. Wasn’t he shy just two minutes ago? Your mouth opens to answer him, but your brain is far too cloudy to form any coherent sentence, so you settle on a nod. He hums, pressing a kiss to your agape lips.

Once you feel his thumb tentatively brush against your clit through the thin fabric, you find the courage to slip your hand inside the waistband of his sweatpants, your fingers immediately brushing against his member. Minho shudders at the touch, his eyes still fixed on yours.

Your brows shoot up at the fact that he had foregone wearing boxers, and he chuckles lightly at your reaction.

“I never wear underwear to bed, so don’t think I was trying to seduce you,” he jokes.

“Too late,” you hum, “I was seduced the moment I saw your bright orange cat sweater.”

Minho grins, sucking your lower lip as he pushes your panties to the side painfully slowly, his middle finger gliding from your entrance toward your clit and spreading your arousal. With a sigh, you bring one leg to wrap around his waist, and he adjusts himself so he’s properly hovering over you. You take this opportunity to slide his sweatpants down his hips, his hard cock finally free from its confines. He groans low in his throat, his tongue suddenly licking into your open mouth as his right hand intertwines with your left, your fingers locking together. He presses your clasped hands onto the mattress beside your head.

Your hand now glides through his length, the palm of your hand beginning to rub at the head of his cock and Minho sucks in a breath, breaking the kiss, his eyes remaining closed. Pressing your thumb to the slit, you gather as much precum as you can and spread it through his member. You quickly find that it’s not enough, wanting it wetter and messier and—

Minho whines as you stop touching him, eyes shooting open. Bringing your hand to your lips, you lick a stripe on your palm and let a glob of spit fall on it before finding his cock again, wet both with your saliva and his precum as you begin to stroke him gingerly. With a quiet moan, Minho’s hips buck up at the touch and he kisses your lips again. You giggle into the kiss, inwardly thanking Hyunjin for teaching you that guys love sloppy shit like this and, in turn, making you realize you do too.

You avert your eyes from his intense gaze as his finger moves to find your entrance, pushing in slowly before moving at a steady pace.

He squeezes your hand. “Look at me,” his voice is all but a whisper, low and hurried. You turn to lock your eyes on his once more, immediately biting your lips to stop a moan from slipping out of your lips as his thumb begins to rub your clit in circular motions, and he slips another finger inside of your aching cunt. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep yourself from vocally begging him not to stop.

You focus on your own hand as you stroke his cock, your steady pace gradually quickening. Minho’s pace mirrors yours, and soon the small room fills with the noise of his finger swiftly pumping in and out of you mixed with the sound of your hand stroking him.

“What do you like?” Minho asks suddenly, his breath hitching as you tighten your fist around his cock. Your mind is far too clouded by desire and pleasure to fully comprehend, so you hum, your brows furrowing. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours with a quiet moan and curling his fingers inside you, causing your eyes to shut tightly and a whimper to escape your closed lips. “Look at me, baby,” he repeats himself, his voice firm and his shy demeanor having completely shifted. You slowly open your eyes. “What do you like? I — fuck,” He curses as your hand twists on the head of his cock. “Wanna make you feel good, tell me.”

You’re definitely not used to being vocal about what you want or like during sex; your ex-boyfriends always too selfish, and Hyunjin too confident for you to even have had the opportunity to do so. Coupled with just how good you felt, you know you won’t possibly be able to speak a word without moaning the way you’re trying so hard to avoid. You settle for guiding his hand, which was tangled in yours, under your shirt. Minho immediately massages your breast, his thumb caressing your nipple as his eyes find yours once more.

You feel as if his gaze is setting you ablaze, his eyes boring into you. It felt as if all his desire was accumulated in his dark eyes, clearly visible in how he watches you like he’s drinking in every last drop of you through his stare. You’ve never had someone look at you like this before; it makes you feel so wanted, so desired, as if the only thing Minho could ever need in this moment is you. That alone makes your body tremble, your left hand holding onto his shoulder for purchase as you feel you might float away at any second.

If you were told a couple of hours ago that something as simple as having Minho’s fingers inside you would have you so euphoric, you most definitely would have laughed.

Minho groans into your open mouth, his breathing heavy and his brows drawn together tightly. You force your lips shut once more as his thumb rubs your bundle of nerves more hastily. Your hand leaves his shoulder to tangle in his black hair, futilely attempting to tug him even closer to you before you kiss his agape lips that spill out groans and sighs like a mantra.

It’s almost all-consuming. His fingers inside of you, the warmth of his hand on your breast, his cock pulsating beneath your touch, his hot breaths that fill your lungs as he sighs into your kiss, and his eyes — his damn eyes that look at you as if he wants to eat you whole.

You finally allow yourself to moan as you feel your orgasm building up, whimpering his name against his lips as your strokes on his cock turn messy and desperate among the copious amounts of precum. Minho growls, pulling your hand from his hair — his grip on your wrist so firm it stings a little — before he pins you down to the mattress, fingers messily intertwining with yours again.

This time, you’re unable to restrain your whimper at his actions; Minho had always been gentle and sweet, something as simple as him pinning you down to the bed has you clenching around his fingers. This duality of his you just discovered is something that stirs up curiosity inside of you.

“I’m gonna come,” He announces with a sigh, his hand squeezing yours. You can only nod as you melt around his fingers, your whole body trembling. Minho soon follows, his cum spilling into your hand and your shirt, a low guttural sound leaving his throat.

His eyes only leave yours as he leans down to connect your lips again, giving you small kisses before a stifled laugh escapes him. You furrow your brows, and Minho grins.

“Sorry for getting your shirt dirty,” He mumbles against your lips, the two of you unwilling to move for the time being.

You shake your head with a chuckle. Although you cringe slightly as you feel the fabric of your shirt stick to your stomach.

“It’s okay.”

Minho shifts on top of you, and you only then realize his fingers remain inside of you. Your body jolts faintly at the stimulation, his name falling from your lips in the form of a whine. He grins at you again, all lopsided and handsome, before bringing his hand to his lips. You watch with agape lips as his tongue flicks out to lap at his fingers before sucking on them with a hum, his eyes locked onto yours once more.

Once again with this newfound duality of his. He’s pure romance and gentlemanly behavior, but seemingly so alluring and shameless in bed. The way he looks at you alone makes you clench around nothing as if you didn’t come mere minutes ago. And it’s such a simple act — you can’t count on one hand the number of times you watched as Hyunjin licked his fingers clean after being inside of you — but the contrast of his calm and endearing everyday personality and him suddenly pinning you to the bed or licking your cum off his fingers while looking into your eyes makes this entirely different.

You would’ve never expected this from Minho, and it makes your brain stir up with thoughts of what he would be like while eating you out or while fucking you. Would he pin you to the bed again or pull your hair, or maybe—

The sound of him clearing his throat interrupts you from your thoughts, and you only now realize you had been staring at the ceiling while fantasizing about Minho fucking you. Great.

Once your eyes meet, he’s quick to avert his gaze. “I will, uh, pay to wash your shirt when we — when we get back,” Minho stumbles over his words, his eyes now fixed on your shoulder. “If you want. But, like, I got it dirty, so…” He trails off, and you purse your lips to muffle the giggle that bubbled up your throat as it seems all the confidence he had only minutes ago had dissipated into dust and left his body.

He was back to his usual self. You can’t help but smile as you realize you adore any version of Minho.

He pushes himself off of you, muttering that he’ll be back before disappearing into the small bathroom. You remove your soiled shirt, wiping your hand on it, only to blanche at the sight of the logo printed on the fabric. It’s one of Hyunjin’s shirts that you had stolen ages ago. You mumble a string of apologies to him as you pull the covers off your body. After discarding it on your bed, you change into the first t-shirt you fish out of your backpack, worried Minho might come into the room and see your naked chest — as ludicrous as that was, seeing as he was knuckles deep inside of you less than twenty minutes ago.

Minho returns to the bedroom just as you’re closing the zipper on your bag. He silently takes your hand in his and wipes it with a towel, his head lowered as his eyes focus on his actions. You let out a breathy chuckle.

“There’s really nothing there anymore,” you inform him. “I wiped most of your cum on my shirt.” You nod toward the crumpled-up fabric thrown across the bed. Minho’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. He lets out a small noise, nodding his head slowly before ultimately pressing his lips together. Under the faint moonlight that lights up the room, you almost miss how his cheeks dust a shade of pink. You smile, pressing a kiss to his nose. Minho hums, smiling back at you and dropping the towel on top of your shirt.

Soon, you find yourself back in bed with him, Minho pulling you into his chest, his hands now offering you pleasure by gingerly massaging your scalp. You are almost asleep — listening to his heartbeat through his sweater, smiling at the soft snores that escape his parted lips — when it dawned on you.

You notice just how different being with Minho had been. How kissing him alone made your hands shake, how even without being fully intimate, the way you felt with him tonight was incomparable.

Minho’s words from months ago about how sex with someone you love eclipses the feeling of sex with any other person linger in your memory. You hum, a smile on your lips as your eyes flutter closed again.

Before they shoot open.

Because holy shit.

If it felt that way with Minho, it can only mean you’ve fallen for him.

Awakening to the sound of the heater’s soft hum, you feel Minho’s arm tightly around your waist, keeping your body pressed against his. His gentle breathing brushes against the nape of your neck, and you cautiously turn your head, careful not to wake him, only to be greeted by his tender eyes already gazing at you with a soft smile. Cuddling with Minho is another thing that feels different. You feel safe, adored from how he holds you to the way his eyes look at you.

As he realizes you’re also awake, he suddenly turns to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling as his ears slowly turn a light shade of red. You frown, chuckling a bit at his actions, before settling yourself across his chest.

“The power came back a while after you fell asleep,” he explains.

You giggle as you assume maybe he’s shy because of what happened last night. But your smile fades as your mind begins to overthink, your subconscious screaming that maybe you should feel shy, embarrassed. Weren’t you too easy? Letting him touch you like that after just a few kisses. Does Minho think you came into bed with him for that reason?

You think back to the last boyfriend you had, who berated you for how ‘whorish’ it had been when you asked to have sex with him instead of waiting for him to initiate it. And how your first boyfriend would tell you — every chance he got — that you acted like a slut, touching him as if you knew it would make him have sex with you. How, at the end of your relationship, he told you maybe you acted that way because you knew that sex was all you were good for. How another ex had laughed as he told you that even though you went through so many guys, you still managed to be a terrible fuck, and that was the reason he had to cheat on you.

There were also the murmurs around your school whenever you started a new relationship. Another one? She’s boy hopping so much she’s gonna get through our entire class in less than a year. Some girls just can’t stand to be alone, it’s kind of sad.

At some point, you had detangled yourself from Minho, now lying on your side and looking out the window. You never understood why so many people thought that way. You had five boyfriends from fifteen to eighteen, and in each of these relationships, you were either cheated on or broken up with in a less-than-pleasant way. But you did have the awful habit of jumping into relationships with little thought, often because you felt incomplete without a romantic partner — as romantic as high school relationships can be, anyway. Being single and content for almost four years now, you were proud to have worked on that.

But you still can’t shake off the feeling that maybe you were a bit too… forward. You were single, sure, but you were quick to jump at the opportunity to have Hyunjin as a fuck buddy. Perhaps people were right about that.

“Is everything okay?” Minho’s voice pulls you away from your racing thoughts. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, nodding.

“Yeah, I just zoned out.”

Sitting upright on the bed, you stretch with a sigh. Minho takes your hand before you can realize it, placing it on his chest and gently playing with your fingers, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. You gnaw on your bottom lip, pulling at the skin until it stings.

“I’m sorry if I was too forward last night,” you blurt out. Minho’s gaze shifts to focus on you, confusion swimming in his brown eyes and his hands halting around yours. Oh god, why did you say that?

“Forward?” The question trails off his lips, his eyebrows coming together in a frown.

With a sigh, you grimace at your own words. “Yeah, forward, like I was throwing myself at you. I’m sorry if it came off that way. I swear I’m not…”

“You’re not…?”

“You know what I mean, Minho,” you mumble, but his eyes remain swarmed with confusion. 

“I really don’t.”

You roll your eyes in exasperation, annoyed not at him but at yourself for having brought this up in the first place.

“You know, Minho,” you groan, “Forward, like, slutty. Like I asked to come to your bed just so you would fuck me.”

His expression softens, his eyes widening. He sits up as well, his hand still clutching yours.

“Why the fuck would I think that?” He asks matter-of-factly. “What happened last night was completely natural. We made out, we got horny, we took care of it together. You didn’t even ask me to touch you, I did it because I was dying to do it. You weren’t forward — you weren’t slutty.”

You feel the heavy veil of worry lift off your shoulders at his words. It was definitely going to take a while for you to work on that aspect of your trauma. This had never been an issue with Hyunjin since you were pursuing nothing more than a sexual relationship with him — things were different with Minho.

Minho was the complete opposite.

After countless moments of your heart racing and your hands trembling because of him, you finally confess to yourself that your affection for Minho extends well beyond platonic feelings.

With a small smile, you slowly nod your head. “Sorry for bringing this up, I just… didn’t want you to think badly of me.”

Minho smiles, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “That wouldn’t have made me think badly of you. I’m not some Victorian man who thinks women should be burned at the stake for showing their ankles,” he chuckles, and you bite back a laugh. “Even if you had been slutty, so what? I’d like that just as much.”

You playfully hit his shin under the comforter as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Minho was unquestionably different.

“We gotta get to the airport soon,” he says with a sigh, stretching his arms over his head, carrying your hand along the way. “I had to book the earliest flight I could to save up some money.”

With a frown, you retrieve your phone from under your pillow and check for the time: seven-thirty a.m. You feel a pang of guilt as you recall how you are essentially on this trip for free.

“Why didn’t Chan help with the tickets?”

Minho bites the inside of his cheek before his lips stretch into a barely-there grin. “Chan was never coming to this trip,” he blurts out. You feel your lips fall agape.

“What?”

“I… planned this trip by myself. Only for you and me,” he explains. “I wanted to get far away from everything that distracted us so I could concentrate on showing you the good side of love like I’d been trying to do with all those fruitless attempts at taking you on dates.”

You take in his words and find yourself smiling at the gesture — the white lie Minho told pales in comparison to everything else he has done for you, both during this trip and since you met him. Truthfully, you didn’t even realize he had been taking you on dates. You mentally slap yourself in the head for that, believing he simply wanted to spend time with you as a friend.

“I’ll pay you back for my part of the trip as soon as—”

Minho’s voice interrupts you with a drawn-out ‘no.’ He smiles as you stare at him, puzzled.

“This entire trip must’ve been so expensive, Minho.”

But he’s unrelenting, shaking his head with a squeeze of your hand.

“I told you,” he says simply. “I do stupid shit when I’m in love.”

♡ taglist: @notevenheretbh1 @malunar28replies @jazziwritesthings @finchyyy @bloom-ings @linocz @minhochaos @lastgreatamericandynasty1

#stray kids #stray kids fic #skz smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fic #lee know fluff #lee know #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #stray kids x you #skz #fanfic #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know imagines #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut

[hendersister]

cruel summer

summary: steve gives you a ride home after a late night working at the mall.

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

title 🎵: cruel summer by bananarama

It’s summertime. While most of your friends are spending the season outside and relaxing under the sun, you’re stuck working inside all day at Starcourt Mall. You got a job at Waldenbooks because you’re trying to save up money to buy a car. You’re about to enter your senior year at Hawkins High and you want to be able to drive yourself to school instead of bumming rides off of friends.

At least you’re not completely alone at the mall. Steve Harrington works at Scoops Ahoy, which isn’t too far from Waldenbooks. Sometimes when things are slow at the bookstore, you go down to the ice cream parlor to hang out with Steve. 

You became friends with Steve last fall around the same time that your little brother, Dustin, started bonding with him. But you think that working at the mall has really brought you and Steve closer together. Over the past few weeks, you two have been seeing each other on a daily basis. Steve’s face lights up every time he sees you walk into Scoops Ahoy and it always makes your day when Steve visits you at Waldenbooks. You and Steve genuinely enjoy spending time together. 

Whenever you’re both working late, Steve offers to give you a ride home. The last bus always leaves as soon as the mall closes and most of the time you need to stay later. Tonight is one of those nights. You’re working OT, re-organizing a bookshelf after some kids moved several titles around, and Steve has to stay late waiting for a shipment. The delivery driver is running way behind schedule.

By the time you finish work, the mall is closed. You go downstairs to Scoops Ahoy. Just as you arrive, you see Steve walking out of the ice cream parlor. 

“You ready to go?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you nod.

You watch him pull down the security gate and lock it. Then you two make your way to the exit. No one else is around and most of the lights are off except for the big neon signs outside of the stores. You love it when the mall is closed because it's so quiet and calm.

“You know, I think I prefer the mall like this,” you say.

“Me too,” Steve agrees.

You and Steve walk together across an almost empty parking lot until you reach his red BMW. He gets in the driver’s seat and you sit shotgun. You keep your eyes on the rearview mirror, watching Starcourt getting smaller and smaller as Steve drives away.

“I feel like I need to enjoy this time alone with you while I still can. Because when Dustin gets back from camp, you’re gonna want to spend all your time with him insead,” you joke.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head.

“That’s not true. I’ll still wanna hang out with you too...”

You look down at your lap, hoping Steve doesn’t see you blush.

“Truth is, hanging out with you these past few weeks has been the best part of my job. Scoops Ahoy totally sucks! The only reason I have this stupid job in the first place is because I couldn’t even get into Tech and my douchebag dad’s trying to teach me a lesson. I make like $3 an hour slinging ice cream and I have no future…” Steve vents.

You shake your head.

“Don’t say that! You have a future,” you try.

“I just don’t want to be stuck in Hawkins forever…” Steve shrugs.

You take a deep breath.

“Steve, I get it… Honestly I think part of me wants a car so badly because I’m afraid I’ll never get out of Hawkins. That car is like my last ditch exit plan. I don’t want to be stuck here either,” you quietly admit.

Steve sighs, understanding. It’s comfortably quiet for a moment. And then-

“I forget about all that shit when I'm with you though…” Steve says.

You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from grinning ear to ear. Steve looks at you and sees you blushing. You couldn’t hide it from him this time. You shyly smile back him and then change the subject-

“You should lose the sailor’s hat. It’s hiding your best feature,” you suggest.

Steve nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I know! It completely screws up my game. But I have to wear it… company policy,” he complains.

You slowly reach towards Steve.

“Well you’re off the clock now-”

You take the hat off Steve's head and toss it in the back seat.

“Much better,” you smile.

Steve smiles back at you. You look into each other’s eyes. You both feel the electricity in this moment. After a beat, Steve turns his focus back to the road. The car is approaching your street.

“Ok so I’ll just turn right and take you home…. Or I could keep going straight and then we’ll just be driving around town for a while,” Steve tells you.

Steve is having a good time. He doesn’t want this night to end. And neither do you.

“Keep going straight,” you nod.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

[daisyblog]

Cherry

Our Story Masterlist Summary: How Cherry was made.

Harry knew he had to get back to some sort of normality. He'd spent the last few months on tour, trying to work on his emotions and still trying to put a good show for his fans. It was hard.

It was hard for him without YN by his side. It was hard for him when they weren't talking right now. They hadn't spoken for a few weeks now, their last conversation was strained and it seemed that they silently agreed that maybe they needed to stop texting right now.

From the One Direction days, right up until his first solo album, Harry always felt inspired to write. It was his passion, the way he enjoyed expressing himself and music was his thing. But since their break up, Harry felt a lot, but trying to put into words was just something that he couldn't do right now.

He had a studio session with his team, he thought it was a waste of time because he had already explained to his manager, Jeff, that he wasn't in the right frame of mind to write, but Jeff and the team persuaded to join them, even if it was just to mess around with some of the instruments and sound board to see what they could do.

Harry sensed a tense and awkward atmosphere as he walked through the studio door, where everyone else had arrived before him. He noticed the look Mitch and Jeff gave each other and how Sammy and Tyler focused their eyes on the recording deck in front of them.

"What?" Harry continued to eye each of them, waiting to hear why they were all acting guilty, almost like they knew something he didn't.

Jeff broke the silence of the room. "Have you been online today?".

Harry shook his head no, confusion still evident on his face. "No..why?".

Jeff eyed Mitch quickly before he broke the news to his friend. "There's a photo of YN...and a man in a gallery in Paris".

Harry's heart felt like it was going to escape his body. It was thumping hard against his chest. He'd always been the jealous type, he'd get annoyed if another man checked YN out in front of him or attempted to chat her up, but this wasn't just jealousy, this was like he'd been hit by a bus. Was she really moving on?

Swallowing his emotions, Harry broke the tense silence. "Um..do we know who he is?". He asked his manager, knowing he would have made a few phone calls this morning.

"His name is Jack..his parents own the gallery they were at..it was their opening night". Harry felt his stomach twist again, all he could think about was YN and Jack and the fact that she had already met his parents.

Harry nodded his head in response, not quite knowing what to say. He just wanted to know, how they met, where they met, did she love him, did they have the same conversations they used to have, did she laugh at his jokes?

"Do you think he may just be a friend or something?" Mitch, who didn't get too involved in anything that wasn't his business, questioned Harry. He had known YN for a few years, and to him he just thought this was out of character for her. He witnessed how in love the couple are, the way YN would look at him with heart in eyes, the way they would say 'I love you' whenever they were leaving the room or how supportive YN had been when the guitarist first met them.

Harry let out a sarcastic chuckle. "I've met all her friends...and I've never heard of him". It was true, Harry had met YN's small group of friends. YN always said how small her circle was because she only trusted a small amount of people. "I'm gonna go and get a coffee, I'll be back in a bit".

Harry took a small walk around the area, needing to get some air. He felt like so many things were going through his mind. He didn't want YN to be with anyone else, he wanted to be the one to hold her hand, tell her how beautiful she is, tell her that he loves her.

Once Harry had arrived back at the studio, the four men was surprised to see that he had actually come back after the news they had shared this morning. They were even more surprised when Harry instructed Mitch to play a slow melody on the guitar. But they all did what Harry asked and once Harry began to sing some lyrics, they had realised that Harry was expressing his feelings and emotions through song.

Don't you call him baby We're not talking lately Don't you call him what you used to call me

Harry thought about how he and YN had always had little pet names for each other, mostly being 'baby' or 'bubs". He couldn't help but think about YN calling Jack these names. He was also aware that they weren't talking right now so it made things feel even more intense for him.

I, I confess I can tell that you are at your best I'm selfish so I'm hating it I noticed that there's a piece of you in how I dress Take it as a compliment

YN was smiling wildly in the photo at the gallery, Harry could tell it was her real smile and one that he had been lucky to see many time over the years. Of course he wanted to see her happy, but not without him and with another man. As he was getting ready this morning, he couldn't help but reach for the pink beanie that sat in the drawer, one that YN had left behind and the one that was currently hiding his curls.

Don't you call him baby We're not talking lately Don't you call him what you used to call me

Harry re-sung the first verse, wanting to repeat the message loud and clear.

I, I just miss I just miss your accent and your friends Did you know I still talk to them? Does he take you walking round his parents' gallery?

He missed her loudness, he missed her laugh, he missed everything about her, even her thick accent. But the more he thought about YN, the more he visualised the photo of her and Jack so the last line came out without thought as he sung.

---

It was later that evening that Harry was back home by himself. He'd thought about his day and how everything changed so quickly for him.

He knew he was being cruel to himself, sat staring at the photo of YN at the gallery. He couldn’t help but notice how her eyes crinkled as she was mid laugh or how she was wearing her favourite black dress that hugged her figure perfectly. 

To distract himself he decided to go for a night time run, something he used to do when he couldn’t sleep or had something on his mind. As he run around the area near his home in LA, knowing the time difference between LA and England he wondered if YN was awake not able to sleep or if she had started her day early. 

Arriving back at his house, Harry showered and changed into some comfy clothes, he got into bed and out of habit glanced at the space next to him. An empty space where YN and Teddy were usually cuddled up. 

What surprised him was the sound of his pinging on the bedside table. He reached over and seeing the name across the screen made his heartbeat faster.

YN: Hey! Can we talk? x

Harry wasn’t sure if he was happy, relived or scared. Of course he wanted to talk to her, he’d do anything to have her back in his arms. But was this the talk where she told him it was officially over between them both.

Not wasting another moment, he pressed the phone button next to YN’s name and waited to hear her voice. 

“Hello”. YN’s voice was quiet, almost like she was trying to not to wake anyone. 

“Uh hey”. Harry was nervous. He didn’t know what to expect. 

“Sorry…I hope I didn’t wake you”. YN apologised.

Harry’s fingers began to play with the loose cotton on the duvet as he spoke. “N-no…of course not”.

There was a slight pause in conversation, almost like they weren’t quite sure what to say. 

“I…I wanted to explain the photo you may have seen-“. Harry recognised the nerves in YN’s voice. 

Harry interrupted. “YN…it’s okay..you don’t need to explain yourself to-“.

“Harry-“.

“-me…you can date whoever you want to date”. Harry continued to ramble, almost trying to sound unbothered about the whole thing.

“Harry…it’s not what it looks like-“.

Once again Harry didn’t let YN finished explaining. “You don’t need to tell me”.

“Harry…for fook sake let me finish”. Harry remained silent. “I’m trying to explain that Jack, who’s in the photo is Mia’s boyfriend…Mia invited me along because she was nervous and the media have twisted it”.

Harry has never felt relief like it. He wanted to jump up and down in excitement, but instead the smile was back on his face. 

When Harry didn’t respond, too happy about the news YN just shared, YN grew nervous. “Harry?”.

“Oh..oh sorry…I-I…I’m not going to lie…I’m so fucking happy to hear that”. Harry left put a chuckle, YN giggled on the other end of the phone at his honestly.

“So you really thought I would be dating someone”. YN decided this was the time to question Harry.

“Uh…uh…No…well maybe”.

“Harry….you know I still care about you…I was actually going to ask if you wanted to maybe go for a coffee or something next week…I’m flying out to LA to stay with Louis for a bit”.

Harry’s excitement started to grow. YN wanted to see him, she was flying out to LA next week, she made the first step. He couldn’t help but get hopeful that this was his chance to win her back.

“Yeah..yeah…I’d really love that”. Harry tried to stay calm and not give too much away.

“Cool…I’ll leave you to get some sleep ‘cause I know it’s late there…I’ll send you some details once I arrive”.

“That’ll be good…have a safe flight”.

“Goodnight bu-“. YN almost let out the little pet name she was used to saying. “Harry”.

As they both hung up, Harry whispered “Goodnight baby”.

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r  @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @indierockgirrl @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @jerseygirlinca @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @buckybarnessimpp

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles writing #one direction #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x tomlinson!reader #harry styles x oc #harry x reader #harry x yn #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry styles fic #harry styles series masterlist #harry styles masterlist #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #louis tomlinson #niall horan #zayn malik #liam payne #harry 1d #one direction imagine #one direction fanfiction #tomlinson!yn

[euphroseia]

Unrequited love, what about it?

Minho x gn!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: non-idol!au, high school au, fluff, angst

Warnings: none that i can think of (please tell me if i missed one!)

a bit self-indulgent, a bit not. i listened to this song while i was writing this. if you want, you can listen to it too as you read ^^

Unrequited love, they say. 

But for you, it was all just admiration from afar, making that person an inspiration for your poems, or maybe the muse to your art.

You first laid your eyes on him during your senior year at high school. The school’s dance team captain, who’s not just known for his exceptionally good performance with what he loves doing, but also the good-looking and caring senior everybody admires. 

Running through the hallway with your friends for a class you’re all gonna be late to in five minutes, leads you to the direction where the practice room is located. You heard music playing and at first you thought no one was inside, then you took a peek at the small glass of the door; someone was there slow dancing, trying to figure out the rhythm of the music that was playing at a low volume. You can’t help but to watch more because of the way his body was just swaying around, like it was flowing with the sound of the music. Then he turned around and there you saw him—Lee Minho, what a sight for sore eyes, indeed. 

That moment was cut short after your friend dragged you, reminding you that you’re almost late for your class.

From that moment, you noted to yourself to always take that route at the exact same time every day.

You thought you’d be fine with admiring him from afar. Watching the dance team on every competition they joined, peeking through the door of their practice room, and taking the long way to your classroom just so you could pass his classroom and see him—until it wasn’t enough.

You knew you had to do something to bring you two closer. Knowing he’s smart, you studied hard just so maybe you could be classmates for the next semester.

Unrequited love, they say. 

But how can that be love when you only want to watch him at his element? Your friends beg to differ. They say all you talk about was him. “How come he still looks that good even when he’s sweating a lot?” that, “Have you guys seen the way he smiles and laughs?” this, and the list goes on.

You just can’t help it. How could you? He’s good, great even, with what he does. Always on the top of the class, respectful to everyone, and very patient with teaching the dance steps to his team members. 

How can you not love a guy like him, right?

Did you just say love? You never even noticed it. People said at that rate of admiration you had for him, it’ll only be a matter of days that you’ll fall for him; and fall you did—hard, head first, no turning back.

Lucky you, in your last semester as a high school student, your school shuffles the class sections, and just like an answered prayer, you and Minho are in the same class. On top of it all, both of you were elected as the class officers; him as the president and you as the vice president.

Having to do a lot of tasks together as officers of the class brought you closer to each other. Meetings with the officers of other classes sometimes end up late at night. He’d walk you to your bus stop and wait until the bus arrives and leaves with you in it. He would sometimes ask you to watch the dance team practice a new choreography, or help him learn it alone. And at times like that, your brain short circuits and your heart beats faster with the thought of being alone with him.

These interactions made you fall for him even more. Seeing the guy for more than just his looks, and experiencing first hand how good of a person he actually is.

Unrequited love, they say. 

For the way you look at Minho is totally different from how he does to you. They say you look at him as if he’s someone you’d willingly risk everything you have for him, and if you’re being honest, they might just be right. On the other hand, they said he looks at you as how a best friend would do—adoring you and being proud of the things you achieve. Platonically in love with you but never romantically.

Your feelings for him gets deeper as months go by. Today, it was one of those late nights after a meeting with the other officers. Everything’s getting busier as your graduation approaches. As usual, Minho walks you to the bus stop. 

Your bus arrives and he pulls you into his arms and you gladly welcome the warmth of his hug. It has become a habit of the both of you to hug each other before you part ways. This time, he held you a little longer, and if you’d allow yourself to be a bit delusional, you swear you could feel his lips press a kiss on top of your head. 

When you let go, you looked up at him and saw him smiling just as widely as you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he said. “Of course,” you answered and waved him goodbye as you ran towards the bus. 

Unrequited love, they say. 

And for the first time, you agreed to them. For you watched it unveil before your eyes as he falls in love with the girl that’s part of his team. The way you see yourself in him as he looks at her with admiration and love. Like he’s willing to give everything to her—just as you would to him.

Your physics teacher is not coming today, he informed Minho through a message just a while ago. So, you have the whole period as free time to do anything. You were scrolling on your phone, watching different videos or reacting to funny memes shared on your newsfeed when you felt someone sit beside you. Not really in the right state of mind to talk to him after you heard the gossip about the “none-other-than Minho” dating his prettiest co-dancer, you decided to just continue scrolling through your phone. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he called to which you just hummed in response.

“Can you tell me your opinion about this?” He asked and showed you a bouquet of flowers flashed on his phone screen from a popular shop on instagram. 

“It’s pretty. The colors of the flowers compliment each other the same way the wrap does to them.” You said as you really liked the flowers he’s showing you right now. “Why? What’s with the sudden question about flowers?” You asked, knowing exactly you’ll only hurt yourself from the answer he would say.

“Oh, do you remember Reigne?” You would ignore it if given the chance, but you can’t. Not when you notice how lovingly he said her name. Not when he had to pause a little just to smile after her name fell from his lips. “I heard her and her friends talking about how beautiful these flowers are. I’ve thought of giving it to her after our performance this Saturday.” There it is, the sting of pain in your chest. Of course, it’s for her. What else did you expect?

“I bet she’ll love that and make her heart beat faster once you give that to her,” you said in all honesty, because it’s Minho. Who wouldn’t love to receive a bouquet of flowers from him? Who’s heart wouldn’t flutter when you realize the flowers he’s holding were especially for you?

His smile widens and you see the twinkle of his eyes—pure of love and excitement to the thought you had just given him. “You think so?” He asked, smiling giddily.

“I know so,” you respond and return his smile. 

“Okay!” He exclaimed and hugged you “Thanks, Y/N, you’re the best,” he said as he went back to his proper seat.

Unrequited love, they say.

When you can watch him become happier each day even if you’re not the reason behind his smiles, then, what about it?

You were fine with watching him from afar just months ago, it wouldn’t hurt to be on the sidelines of his life for the rest of it. 

But Saturday came, the day you dreaded the most as it reminded you of his plan. You wouldn’t miss a competition your best friend worked hard for just because of your silly, little, one-sided feelings for him. You hate to be that kind person, so you wouldn’t be that kind of person. You’d want to support him, even from afar, just like before.

They were great, you knew that, everybody knows about that already . After all the competing teams have performed, you had expected their win. So, you went outside to get some fresh air; it was hot inside after all, considering that many people came for this is the last competition for this season. 

You heard the name of your school and their dance team gets proclaimed as the champions. You smiled to yourself from the thought that you saw that coming. It was his last competition with this dance team, of course, he would do his best for them to win this—and win, they did.

You stayed outside a little longer than you expected, you saw everyone leave the venue and go home. But for some reason, you stayed there and it was getting dark already. You heard little noises from afar, as if your feet had their own brain, they walked to the direction of the noise. 

There you saw Minho, the one you’ve been admiring from afar, the man behind all your love poems, the one whose nose you try so hard to perfect when you sketch him as he sleeps, the person you tried so hard to deny that you love, yet fail miserably—your best friend.

You witness as he takes a deep breath and moves forward little by little to the person in front of him. It was Reign. In his hand, he holds the bouquet of flowers. Oh, so this was how he planned it. You thought to yourself as you watched Minho approach her carefully and give the flowers to her.

Everything unveiling before you wasn’t that surprising at all, after all, he told you about this plan already. It was you who said she’ll like the flowers and indirectly said, she’d love Minho as much as he does to her. Yet, what you didn’t expect was to see him kiss her. You had learned to accept that your feelings would never be reciprocated by him, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Because a few months ago, when you tried to dance with him in the practice room alone, when you looked at each other a little longer than necessary and faces were too close to each other, you thought that you could actually kiss him at that moment.

That night, you cried so much you actually thought your heart was breaking. You convinced yourself that time would pass and all of this was just part of your silly, little inevitable part of life as high school students.

Unrequited love, they say. 

You don’t agree nor deny it anymore. 

You just want it all to be over and move onto the next chapters of your life.

Your graduation passed just like the blink of an eye. You and your batch mates are all gathered at the school for the traditional final class picture before you all part ways and go to college or work. You honestly didn’t want to go. You almost didn’t go to your graduation because you didn’t want to see Minho anymore. Thinking about how effective it would be to forget your feelings for him if you avoid him. But, of course, you can’t do that. You have done so much to have come this far. Setting aside your feelings and goal of eliminating them, you attended the graduation. 

Today, you really didn’t want to come. Not because you didn’t want to see Minho, but because of what will be the outcome of your plan. You bought the book he’s been talking about to you that he didn’t want to buy because “it’s a waste of money” he said. So you bought it, it’s your money you’re wasting and not his in the end. There, you inserted a poem you made for him. Thought that maybe through this, you’d be over him.

The picture taking was over and all that’s left to do was to give him your present. 

“Hey, Min,” you called for him when you saw him standing in the middle of your classroom. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled as he turned around and opened his arms inviting you to hug him.

You approached him and hugged him tight. You wanted to savor this moment, scared that it might be the last. When you pulled away, you handed him the small paper bag.

“Got you a little something. A parting gift, you may say,” you said, looking down as you fiddle with your fingers.

“What’s this?” He opened the bag and saw the book. “I-thank you, Y/N!” He said and pulled you in another hug. “I didn’t get you something though, how about I treat you to eat?” He suggested and you’d love to say yea. But you can’t. It’s selfish, you know, but you think it’s for the best.

“I’d love to, Min, but I really have to go now.” Tone a bit down, expressing that you really regret not being able to accept his offer. “I hope you read that well,” you said and looked into his eyes. 

Hugging him one last time, and then you waved him goodbye as you ran out the door trying not to spill the tears that’s been threatening to fall when you looked at him.

Still a bit shocked by how fast you ran outside, and he swore he saw your eyes watered. He was left there standing alone again in the classroom as he removed the book from the plastic it was wrapped with. He remembers talking about it to you but never expected that you would get it for him. He opened the book and noticed something was inserted between the center page of it.

It was a small card, he’s familiar with the handwriting in it; it was yours. He read what’s written on it and he didn’t even notice he was crying until he saw the tear fall on the card. 

If they ask me to talk about love,

I’d talk about us.

Or more lovingly, from my perspective, I'd talk about you.

I’d tell them how I see stars in your eyes when you talk about the new dance step you learned.

The way you’d smile so brightly, I almost thought I was facing the sun.

The way you passionately do something you love, and show everyone you’re great at it.

The way you excel at everything, but will never forget to still be kind and humble.

If they ask me to talk about love,

I’d say your name in the blink of an eye.

Minho, how lovely your name is.

Even if that’s just how I’ll always be,

I’d tell everyone how amazing being your friend is.

Unrequited love, they say. In an unrequited love, I would choose to stay.

#unrequited love #stray kids #skz #stray kids minho #lee minho #lee know #stray kids ff #lee know ff #stray kids imagines #lee know imagines #stray kids oneshot #lee know one shot #stray kids drabbles #lee know drabbles #stray kids angst #lee know angst #stray kids fluff #lee know fluff #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #stray kids x you #lee know x you #euphroseia

[lace-coffin]

Hello, if your requests are still open, I would like a Montgomery Gator x autistic reader. Reader is having a hard time and gets overstimulated by the noise going on in the Pizzaplex. Maybe Monty thinks the reader is mad at him because they are “ignoring” him, but they are actually just nonverbal and Monty doesn’t know. Angst with fluff at the end, please?

With love, Anon

Love you to anon! Mwah!

Montgomery Gator x overstimulated autistic!gn!Reader

Montgomery Gator x Autistic!Gn!Reader

Requests are closed! (For now)

Not gonna lie like 90% of this was just me projecting how I feel on bad sensory days lmao

The pizzaplex was one of your favourite places to be, you knew the layout like the back of your hand despite how large and winding it was. Since starting your relationship with Monty you’ve probably spent more time here than home.

This didn’t save you from getting overwhelmed however. Yes you loved the plex like a home but it was so much all the time. Bustling crowds mostly made of up noisy excitable children and their exasperated parents, fluorescent lights on full blast overhead and music/announcements blaring from the radio system.

You knew it was one of those days as soon as you cracked your eyes open, you’d been fighting the blankets all night, pissed off as soon as they touched you, ending up sleeping naked only under a single blanket even if it wasn’t weather appropriate. You’d played some music softly as background noise to help as you got dressed and ready to head to the plex. You shut that down promptly. The noise irritating you to no end.

Today was a safe clothing day, nothing restricting or clingy/warm, you already didn’t want to be in your body right now, let alone feel the clothing on you. The wait for the bus was uncomfortable, sitting in one place and counting down the minuets until you need to leave the house, stuck in waiting mode. The longer you sat the more apparent your clothing came. You rehearsed what you were going to say to the driver in your head until the bus arrived.

The actual bus ride was uneventful, slipping on your headphones and playing music just loud enough to cover the background noise.

Walking into the over glorified mall made you want to puke. It was the complete opposite environment you wanted to be in right now, but you really wanted to see your partner. You switch over from your headphones to ear defenders quickly, in your opinion if you can still hear the music over your defenders then it’s up to loud, fazbear. Adjusting your lanyard you read over the badges again. “Please don’t touch me or get to close” “I struggle to make or maintain eye contact” “I’m autistic, please be patient”

After flittering through the plex as fast as you can you beeline to Monty’s green room, ignoring the burning stares of people wondering why another guest is just waltzing into an off limits zone.

“Hey pipsqueek!” Monty bellows as you enter, raising from his sofa and tugging you into a tight hug. Usually this is welcome but right now it just raises your hackles. You don’t let it show, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “Hey big guy!” You muster up, albeit quietly. As you pull back Monty eyes over your lanyard, specifically the “please don’t touch me” badge. “Oh shit! My bad cher” he rubs a large scaly hand over the back of his neck and apologises. You wave your hand in dismissal.

“You still up for that bowling date?” He asks coolly, trying to hide his excitement. In all honesty you aren’t, you don’t want to do anything but lay in the dark and quiet, but you came all this way and you can’t bare to see the disappointment on his face if you turn him down. You give him a nod and a forced smile, it’s not that you don’t love spending time with your boyfriend, it’s just you don’t have the spoons right now.

Regardless you let him lead you to Bonnie bowl, nodding along to his rambling on the way, you let Monty grab your ugly bowling shoes, knowing your size off by heart by now. You wait in the assigned lane, flexing and unflexing your hands.

You smile and say a quiet thank you as Monty hands you to the shoes alongside your favourite flavour of slushy.

The first round is enough to get you agitated and anxious, the noise of the pins clacking harshly against the lane is obnoxiously loud. This added with the sound of other families chatting and the bright lights it’s a nightmare. Not to mention the mix of smells coming from the food stand making you nauseous.

You guess it had been a while since you stopped talking, bowling on autopilot and sitting back down until it was your turn again. You knew Monty had tried to talk to you but it wasn’t getting through properly, so hard to focus on what the gator was saying over your other senses being clogged. Eventually Monty pulls you to once side, concerned.

A worried look settles on his features, you swear you could see a little frustration under them to. “Are you made at me? Is it something I did? Because you’ve been ignoring me all evening and I’m sorry if I’ve upset you but I need to know what I did to be able to apologise.”

Your eyes widen in realisation and you flap your hand at him, signalling to give you a second. You rifle in your tote bag for a moment and fish out your phone, unlocking it and pulling up the text to speech app. Monty looks at you confused as you type as quick as you can, after a minute an automated voice rings from the phone. “I’m having a bad sensory day, it’s nothing you’ve done and I love spending time with you, I just feel overwhelmed and tired”

Monty’s face softens at this, relieved you’re not angry at him and that he’s not the cause of your discomfort. The larger leans to cup your face but remembers at the last moment. “Oh uh- can I touch you, cher?” You give a small smile, appreciating him asking first and nod.

Large hands cup your face gently. “I wish you had told me earlier cher and I would’ve gotten you outta here, no worries though, I’m proud of you for telling me pipsqueek.” You type for a moment more. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to be a nuisance and ruin our date” you avoid his eyes.

Monty frowns and shakes his head. “Hey, none of that, you’re never a burden for having a bad day, doll. I love you even when you don’t feel good, remember that.” You nod and type again. “Love you too big guy, what now?” Your boyfriend chuckles and jerks his head toward the exit. “Wanna head back to my room? We can set the lights low and just sit in eachothers company, no need to talk”

You could cry from how sweet and understanding he is sometimes. You happily agree and make it back to his green room, spending the evening curled in your weighted blanket on the sofa, lights dimmed and star projector on. Monty is curled in a separate nest of blankets on the floor beside the sofa, letting out soft bellows as you run your fingers through his hair.

#montgomery gator x reader #montgomery gator #fnaf security breach #fnaf #five nights at freddy's security breach #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #writing #my writing #autism #autistic reader #autistic writer #neurodivergent

[sebwritesstories]

Okay, so, I'm gonna give you lore on my Welcome Home Oc in the form of an episode pitch. Bare with me.

Lucy Literature was an elephant with a love for stories, whether written into fabulous books to read and admire, or when told by others when discussing their interests and lives. So it's no wonder she worked hard to become a librarian and finally got the funds to build her very own library!

All she needed was to find a place that needed the uses of her library. So she did her research. She found out that the only town in the county that didn't have a local library was a snug place in the middle of nowhere called "Home".

With that, Lucy packed a suitcase and went on a holiday to check out the area and its suitability. Unfortunately, due to an incident with the bus breaking down that took hours to fix, she arrived in town very late in the night. She felt extremely exhausted from the ordeal, only wanting to sleep away her worries, but panicked after seeing that there was no inn or motel.

The only one awake at the time was Home, and it shocked Lucy to meet a sentient house. But she was able to converse with Home, and only asked if Home could keep an eye on her while while she slept on their lawn. Home reluctantly agreed, not sure if it was the right choice since Lucy was vulnerable to the elements.

Regardless, Lucy dreamt a blissful dream of building her library, finding romance, family, school, a math test, cameras, coffee, string, and cigarette smoke. Lucy had a tendency to dream a collection of things, her memories smushed into calm chaos.

Once the morning arrived, she was still asleep, but all of the neighbors were getting up and ready for another glorious day! Wally especially, as he put on a new outfit and was just heading outside to meet with Barnaby.

The only thing that stopped him was seeing a purple, floppy creature sleeping on his lawn.

He didn't know what to think of his strange, sleepy visitor, so he just observed them for a bit. Home decided to wait on telling him, just to see what happened next.

Because of that, Wally went straight to Barnabys', to bring him to see the new visitor.

Once Barnaby saw the stranger, he didn't know what to think of them either. But he explained to Wally that the creature they were was an elephant, due to their long-limb like trunk and large ears.

When Wally wanted further explanations that Barnaby couldn't give, the comedic canine suggested "Howsa 'bout we round up the rest of the gang, and Frank can explain it better?

So, with the help of Howdy, the rest of the neighborhood was gathered.

Frank explained that elephants were types of pachyderm (mammals with little hair, thick skin to protect the body from the elements, and no paws), and how they could trek for miles, had a good memory to remember places and techniques, and had very large families going back generations, lead by the most capable matriarch.

But only Home could explain how and when the elephant arrived into town, and preferred risking her health in the elements rather than to wake and disturb the neighbors.

All of them felt increasing guilt over this, and were contemplating waking her up.

That is, until Wally decided to join Lucy in her nap, laying down beside her, repeating the phrase "I'm sleeping, I'm sleeping, I'm sleeping..."

"Welp, at this point, it would be rude not to join," said Barnaby as he lies down next to the two. After that, one by one, the neighbors joined in for the nap fest, circling the sleepy visitor and looked after by the amused Home.

And once Lucy awakens, she finds herself in the middle of so many silly sleepers!

Except for one besides her with a blue pompador, droopy eyes, and a soft smile. "You're awake now. That's good."

The two got to converse with each other in whispers, so they didn't disturb the other neighbors. Wally enjoyed talking about his neighbors and their routines. And Lucy talked about her parents and sibling, and her own dreams to be a librarian.

Of course, she had to explain to Wally that a library was a building of books people could borrow, and that a librarian organized and took care of the books.

After being told by Lucy that they're were many types of books with different lessons and stories, Wally was enchanted at the idea of having a library in the neighborhood! Especially since many of the neighbors could benefit from the new ideas learned from the free books within.

So with that, Lucy Literature became the tenth neighbor of Home!

And after the two woke up the other neighbors, they had a grand picnic to get to know Lucy and to celebrate.

The End

So this is Lucy's intro (which to a crazy amount of fine motor skill to draw), but I'll make more short stories and comics with her.

Anyways, I'd you do want to find the content I made for this character on my blog, just search up the hashtag (#lucy literature) when looking for content.

Alright byee. 😎💅

#welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #welcome home #welcome home oc #lucy literature

[writingsfromhome]

Endgame III

A/N: Long awaited final part of Endgame!! Thanks to everyone who read it all and waited ages (oops). I really enjoyed going back to the characters for this final scene, hope you do too <3

Part 1 / 2 /

-------------------------------------------

There’s a pit of dread that sits in my stomach, it’s made a home of it there all of Sunday while I work on Angels, and into Monday. It’s 8:30am sharp and I’m sat in the meeting room, nervous as fuck about this meeting with Mr. O’Neil. I’m scared that he hates me because I reacted too emotionally on Friday sending the manuscript back to him. I’m worried he’s going to find my comments on his new chapters worthless. And most of all, because I know it won’t go well, I’m scared about the way he’s going to react to the cover designs.

I don’t expect him to look so…giddy when he arrives 15 minutes later. He looks sharp in a crisp black button up and black slacks. I check my watch again, Harry was officially late which was unusual of him. I guess this was going to be a one-woman show until then.

“Mr. O’Neil,” I shake his hand. “Thanks for swinging by today.”

“Thank you,” he grips my hand tight. “You’re a spark Ms. Y/L/N.”

“It’s just Y/N,” I sit down once he finally lets go of my hand. “Now, I’m hoping those files in your hand are the last chapters?”

“They are,” he says slowly. “I brought them myself so they wouldn’t be sent back.”

My smile drops, “Ahm yeah about that, I-“

“It was the punch I needed,” he grins. He plonks down in the chair and begins pulling out more files from his bag. “Miriam has always treated me delicately, stern woman but always so delicate. You were the spark I needed, those chapters showed back up at my flat and you wouldn’t believe I wanted to chuck them across the room first--well, I did chuck them. Then I picked them all up because I’m afraid of my girlfriend. Then I laughed for five minutes solid, because nobody has slapped me like that without touching my face in a long time.”

“I…” didn’t know what to say. I was expecting major conflict today but this version of him is pumped and creative as he shows me his last chapters, takes in my feedback, and disagrees with me here and there. We flow well, that is until about an hour later. We’d done the copy edits live on the last two chapters together and he was going to take it back to fix everything Miriam and I had circled and underlined. But now it was time to reveal the cover options.

I glance miserably outside the glass room, but Harry is nowhere in sight. Leave it up to him to leave me presenting his shite.

“So…these are some of the options we have so far,” I flip over the mock-ups like I’m reading his tarot. From the look on his face, he hates what the future has in store. “They’re just some-

“No. No. These are shite. Steaming pile of shite, Y/N what is this?”

“Well,” I rack my brain for something. Anything. “We were trying for a modern and trendy cover as an option-“

“I hate all of them, why the fuck is this neon? It’s gonna blind my reader before they can even read my book! Is my book that bad?”

“No of course-“

“So why do the covers make my book look like something I’d wipe my arse with?” He stands in his chair, quickly collecting all the mockups. “These are insulting.”

“Right, okay well we’ve still got time to work on more!”

“I know we do,” he looks me in the eye and it’s intimidating, any traces of the happy-go-lucky O’Neil is gone. “But even presenting these to me is a fucking insult. I know you’ve read my book cover to cover so what’s the meaning of this?”

Ugh, it would be so easy to throw Harry under the bus. Shift the blame, say I told you so. But that wasn’t how I worked, I never wanted to create that kind of dynamic in the workplace.

“Look, Mr. O’Neil…I do sincerely apologize. If I’m honest with you, I don’t think they’re right either. But you know the book business is also now a marketing business and readers do judge a book by its cover. Our department was just trying to make something trendy, but I see very clearly now we should stick to an authentic cover that will show someone the heart of the book.”

He nods along to what I’m saying, and when I’m done he give me a once-over. “I like you kid, you know how to kiss up too.”

“I’m good at my job,” I say before I realize the weight of those words-I was good at my job and a man like Harry Styles wasn’t going to undermine the hard work I do like this. “I meet with you next Friday with your finished edits right? I’ll have new mock-ups then.”

“That’s grand,” he calmy folds over the neon cover, reopens it and tears it in two. I watch with a removed shock. “This is awful, worst of the bunch. Eh, I don’t hate the direction…just tone down those fucking colours.”

“Will do Mr. O’Neil.”

“And I want to meet this Friday for the covers and this fancy marketing bullshite. This book is my baby, I want to make sure it looks beautiful.”

I agree, mentally making a note to make room in my schedule. I shake his hand again and walk him through the office to the lift. He tells me again we work well together, and I remind him that I’ll see him next week.

Then I walk back to the meeting room, kick my heels off, and melt into my seat. What a fucking morning.

“Y/N?” I don’t know if I dozed off but my name startles me out of position. I blink the tiredness away and see a nightmare: Harry in the flesh way after the meeting’s done. “How did the meeting go?”

“What?” I look at the time, almost 20 minutes since I saw O’Neil out. I feel the familiar rage flare up inside me. “Are you asking me how the meeting went? The meeting you were supposed to attend?”

“I was supposed to be there?” Harry steps into the room. Almost sensing my impending explosion, he closes the door behind him. “I wasn’t informed.”

I laugh but nothing is funny. “You weren’t informed? So let me get this straight: we work on this together, we’re told by our director we’re on this together. And our client comes in and you didn’t think to attend? Did I have to personally email you to attend? Send you an email, a notification, maybe even an RSVP?”

“Hold on,” Harry holds his hands out as I stalk closer to him. He glances outside and it catches my attention, a couple of our colleagues stare at the entertainment. I move to the centre console and black out the windows.

“I’m holding on, what genius excuse are you coming up with?”

“No Y/N, I honestly didn’t know. I rarely attend the editing meetings, unless I’m told directly. I attend marketing meetings and-“

“You knew we were presenting the stupid mockups in today’s meeting right? Isn’t that marketing?”

“Right,” he doesn’t meet my eye. “I guess I could have came-“

“Yeah you guess?” I’m back to cornering him, my rage rearing its ugly face. “You gave me the worst covers ever, even though I asked and begged you to change them! Because you were too fucking stubborn to read the damn book or listen to anyone but yourself! And you left me all alone to present the covers I knew he would hate! And guess what? He hated them! And if I was any worse at my job, he would have eaten me for breakfast! All because you wouldn’t bloody listen to me!”

“I listened,” he crosses his toned arms. “I read through your notes and I tried! And you hated what your own notes produced!”

“Oh my god the notes?” I walk away from him, I was shaking. I take hold of the cover ripped in half and throw it by his feet. “You clearly don’t read shit if you’re saying this hideous cover was from my notes! I do my job well, and whatever this thing is, isn’t a product of my notes! It’s a product of your shitty work! And that’s exactly how O’Neil felt about it!”

He stares at the two pieces in front of him. And I don’t know how he’s still so calm, but he looks back at me with a blank face. “I’ll make new ones if he didn’t like them. I can call him personally if you want. It’s not that big of a deal at this stage!”

“Oh my god,” I whisper to the table, balancing on my clenched fists. I had moved past rage, past frustration, and into ballistic. He just didn’t get it: he was undermining my work with a client while I was trying to make a good impression for upcoming promotions, even stripped back he was a man undermining my skills as a woman, making me look like a fool while I presented his shitty work. He just didn’t get it.

“Just leave,” I say to the table because I couldn’t even look at him. “I can’t even look at you Harry just get the fuck out.”

The door opens, he hesitates, and then leaves, the door slams behind him. Only then do I go back to my seat, slide down under the table, and let the tears run freely.

This meeting, the pressure of this client, dealing with Harry and his brick wall…it was a lot but nothing I couldn’t handle. But I think seeing my ex on Saturday, reliving my past and realizing Harry giving me a hard time was an outcome of my toxic relationship. That a relationship I ended five years ago was interfering with my career today. That all men were the same…It got to me, and it just broke me.

***

I don’t plan on seeing let alone talking to Harry for the rest of the day but as I leave the office after staying later than I needed to, the lift doors open to him and him alone. He makes nervous eye contact with me, and it takes me back a little. That he was nervous seeing me. Usually he didn’t give a fuck no matter what happened between us, even bordering on snobbish and cocky.

The silence is a large presence in the small space. Since seeing him this morning, I’d cried under the table and then reapplied my makeup in the bathroom. I downed another coffee and got started on another one of my manuscripts. I could work hard as much as I cried hard.

“Y/N I’m-“

The door opening interrupts Harry which makes it ten times more awkward when someone from the third floor gets on and stands in between us. They must notice the tension because they step forward away from us, ready to bolt as soon as the doors open.

When they do, I hustle off but Harry and his damn long legs catch up. “Wait, I need to apologize.”

I glare at him but lead him out the door to our building courtyard. “Fine. Talk.”

“I am genuinely sorry. I can’t believe I let all that happen, and I don’t know why I let it get that far for something I…”

“What are you apologizing for exactly?” I ask. He was rambling, and some part of me understood what he was apologizing for, knowing what I knew from Saturday. But I wanted him to say it.

He hangs his head, “A lot. I’m sorry I didn’t have your back. I let…other things cloud my professional opinions and I didn’t support you when I should have.”

For a guy who worked with pictures all day, he wasn’t too bad with his words. But I needed more. “What ‘other things’?”

He looks at me with puppy eyes, begging me not to go there. But I wanted to, I needed to. I raise an eyebrow, he could talk.

“The past.”

“You mean other people’s opinions?” I demand clarity.

“I-sure. Yeah, just holding onto what happened in the past and I know it shouldn’t even matter anymore. We’re both adults, well you’ve been acting like one. I’ve been clinging onto the past and I know I should let it go. Even though it was…painful, I know I should put it to rest now. You could have thrown me under the bus and called me to defend my own covers but you handled it. I…thank you. And if I haven’t already said it I’m sorry.”

I don’t exactly follow him but I let my guard down a little. He didn’t need to know my past was clinging onto me, but if he could let go, maybe it would shed itself slowly.

“You owe me so hard,” I say. “Like, the weight of what you owe me indebts you for life.”

“A bit harsh,” he begins to argue but one look at my face and he puts his hands up. “Whatever you say.”

“Great, glad we’ve sorted this.” I move to shake his hand in a silly gesture of good faith. “Apology accepted by the way; thank you.”

“Great, you drive a hard bargain but...nice doing business,” he clasps my hand in his and-oh.

A warm tingle moves through my body and when I make eye contact I can’t look away. I don’t know what was happening, but I was in zero gravity and the only thing keeping me moored was the strong hand that held mine.

He drops our hands first, like he was burned. He looks down, staring at it. I’m embarrassed, and confused, so I do what I do best-confront it head on. “What the hell was that?”

The only way to describe Harry’s expression is wistful. “That wasn’t just me.”

“I think we just like, altered time and space by getting along.” I laugh it off.

“Who knew we were so powerful together,” he grins and I’m fucking floored by how much I wanted to kiss the grin off his face. I take a shaky breath in.

“Fuck,” I take another breath. “We could run this place.”

“Oh that reminds me,” he digs into his pocket for his phone and taps away until he finds what he’s looking for. “I want to change the font but I have a design to show you.”

He turns the phone towards me and I immediately love it. A warm semi-circle goes from orange to golden towards its edges, emitting a transparent glow over most of the cover. A faint moon is present on the back, and the background is an off-white.

“And the shape will actually be raised, either that or the font will be…still workshopping it but,” he scratches his head. “I re-read your notes. You don’t have the neatest writing so I might have…missed a few words. The way you write moon looks kind of like neon?”

My jaw drops, “An apology, a re-read, admitting to being wrong, and a new design?”

“Don’t get used to it,” he nudges me with his shoulder and I ignore the inner waves crashing against my beating heart. “Anyway I gotta go, meeting some friends but I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow?”

I wave goodbye and walk towards my station. What the hell was happening.

***

The office is a lot calmer now that Harry and I have called a truce. And he surprises me with this new side of him. He can still be stubborn, and a bit stuck up. But he’s more agreeable and willing to collaborate with me. And when he turns his dimpled smile at me, I can’t help but beam back. We made a bloody good team.

I sit in the conference room 8:30 sharp on Friday. I put in some more effort this morning, feeling good about everything. Harry comes in just minutes before Mr. O’Neil but we settle down after getting him a tea.

“This is the ‘marketing department’ huh?” Mr. O’Neil winks at me when Harry hands him the new cover. His eyes roam over the whole thing and I hold my breath until I hear him say it: “It’s fucking fantastic.”

“There’s nothing you want to fix?” Harry asks for feedback as I grin from ear to ear.

“My name could be bigger, you know I wrote the book.” He taps at it. “But this is it, you two.”

We chat a bit more about the final version of the book, Harry pretends to know what’s going on since he’s never read the full thing. And finally, Mr. O’Neil calls an end to the meeting to continue working on his manuscript. I walk him to the lift. When I get back to the room, Harry’s organizing the papers that had traveled across the desk.

“We did it!” I shout after I close the door. I walk towards him with both hands raised high. “He loved the cover and the manuscript is on track!”

Harry returns my high-five, but instead of the quick touch, he slips his fingers in between mine and lowers them to our sides. The mood shifts from joyous to…dangerous.

“Who would have thought,” he says to me quietly. “We make a good team.”

I keep the eye contact otherwise I would be making eyes with his lips. And I didn’t want him to know how curious I was to how that would feel. “Who knew respect was a two way street.”

“It…” he looks down at my mouth. “It is. I’m glad I left our disrespect in the past.”

“Right,” I’m barely paying attention as he moves closer to me. But then his words hits, “wait, our disrespect in the past?”

I disentangle myself so quickly he has to balance himself on the table so he doesn’t pitch forward. He blinks away the desire, leaving a puzzled look. “I’m joking…kind of. I mean, it did feel a bit disrespected but we were kids so like I said the other day I’m glad I let it go.”

“I don’t get it,” I feel an oncoming storm, and it kicks my anxiety up a notch. “I don’t get what you just said.”

“I’m just talking about that party it’s-“ he chuckles. “It’s not a big deal Y/N. Anymore. We’re both different people now right?”

“What party?” I demand.

Realizing I had actually known Harry from my first day of uni was one thing, but I didn’t remember him anywhere else. If there was a party where something happened…something that caused him to misjudge me…I needed to know.

“Like, around the end of our second year? Spring. Jared and Dru had this huge year end party? And, this is embarrassing. I don’t care anymore seriously. But Dru was being my wingman, he came up to you to tell you that-jeez saying this is more embarrassing than I thought-“

“Just say it!” I urge, feeling sick. I knew this party. It was the night my whole life changed for the worse but I don’t remember this version of events. I needed to hear this.

“Okay, so I had this massive crush on you? From that first day. When…y’know behind the shed.” Harry chuckles. “Anyway I was too nervous to ever actually ask you out I’m sure you caught me staring at you a lot. All my friends knew how much I liked you and they were sick of hearing about it. So, well Dru was convinced you weren’t my type but he agreed to check you out and ask if you wanted to give me your number?”

I listen numbly as he tells me his version of events. That Dru asked me about his flatmate Harry who had a crush on me, if I would give him my number. How I’d looked at him sweetly and then kissed Dru. My jaw is on the floor but I can’t stop him from talking.

“And it’s whatever now but it felt cruel, I was so sure you were this one person and you ended up just making out with my best friend. And…dating him. And don’t get me wrong, it was your prerogative I didn’t own you or something just because I liked you first but…when you’re 20 everything is just more personal right? Hey, are you alright?”

I wasn’t alright. My head was spinning and yet it was cataloguing everything Harry said against my own memories. And when I think harder, I pin him down; he was the one staring at us when Dru came up to me. Of course he was staring so intensely, he wanted to know if I liked him and Dru manipulated both of us. He fucked us both up.

“That’s not what happened,” I croak. “Harry you have to know I-“

“It doesn’t matter,” he laughs it off but I see the hurt in his eyes. I unknowingly hurt him, left a deep scar, because Dru had manipulated us both. Fuck Dru.

“No Harry listen, Dru is a fucking liar-“

“Okay I don’t want to shit-talk Dru.” Harry interrupts. “He’s a friend, I know you ended up dating him and breaking up but he’s still my fri-“

“Would a friend date the girl you had a massive crush on? If you were in that position, doing that for Dru? Wouldn’t you have pushed me away and feel sorry for Dru that he had to see that?”

“Yeah but Dru and I are different-“

“No! No, Dru is different. He’s not decent. Harry I’m telling you that’s not what happened on my end at the party!”

“You were probably too drunk,” Harry denies my truth. “Anyway it’s not a big deal!”

“I wasn’t drunk. I remember everything!” I insist.

“So you remember seeing me there waiting, and still kissing Dru?” He pauses and this is how I know he was still not quite over it.

“Yes, no-just listen. Dru manipulated both of us-“

“Do you remember it or not?” Harry asks again, his eyes blazing with hurt.

I touch his arm, try to get him to calm down and understand even though feeling gaslit again was driving me crazy, “Harry, Dru isn’t who you think he is.”

Harry shuts down but I try again. “Dru used both of us,”

He grabs my arm so suddenly, jerking me away so my hand falls off. He keep it gripped as he says, “Dru’s my friend, just because you had a shitty relationship doesn’t mean you can turn me against him.”

“I’m not-” I begin to panic as his grip tightens. “Oh my god, Harry please just—let go. Harry let go of me!”

I don’t realize how loud I shout, but the moment makes me feel trapped and small like I had time traveled five years back. The silence echoes my frightened emotions in the spacious room and Harry steps back, almost shocked by his reaction. He looks at where he’d grabbed me, ashamed and scared.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just got…”

“Is everything okay here?” I hear our director say as the door opens. “I heard a shout…what’s going on?”

“Sorry, we got carried away.” Harry plasters on a quick smile. I arrange my face into one too, turning to face her. We lie about celebrating too loudly, she relaxes and congratulates us on the small success before closing the door behind her once more.

“Y/N,” he chokes. “I’m sorry.”

I’m shaking so hard I can’t look at him, I was so fucking weak like this. He comes closer but I shrink away.

We stand in our aftermath in silence, I don’t know what he looks like, I can’t take my eyes off the stray red thumbtack on the carpet. If I break my focus from it, I was going to fall apart. I couldn’t freak out, not here.

Finally, I get through breathing normally, and my eyes dry up. I feel okay enough to look up. Harry’s already looking at me, his jaw set and his hands curled into fists. For a second, I think it’s because of me but when our eyes meet his gaze softens, his fingers uncurl and flex at his side.

“Did he hurt you?” He asks. When I don’t answer he takes a tentative step towards me. “Y/N. Did he hurt you?”

I swallow, my throat suddenly feels parched. “My scars aren’t on the outside, he knew better than that.”

His throat bobs up and down, his face hardening into something fearsome. I always thought Harry gave me his worst side because he had some issues with me, but seeing him look like this, I’m glad I never had this directed towards me. “Dru is…”

“Dru is a fucking narcissist,” I finally say and it’s so freeing. Carrying this around was so heavy, finally saying my truth out loud even if it’s to his friend feel good.

“He fucks people up Harry, including you-wait let me finish.” I hold out my hand when he tries to interrupt. “I only remembered you last Saturday, when you helped me through…my attack. It triggered the memory from our first day--you have to know I used to get so confused and lethargic after an anxiety attack, so I never remembered who you were. I didn’t even see your face! I looked for you a few weeks later because I remembered your jersey number but it was someone else-“

“I was kicked off the team for showing up drunk…” Harry pauses, seeming to process something but he doesn’t voice it so I take it as my cue to continue.

“I actually didn’t remember you at all from uni. I guess because I didn’t remember you from that first day, you never made a first impression on me.” I take a breath. “And as for that party, that awful party. That’s not what happened. When Dru came up to me, he told me he had a bet with his mates-you guys, that a ‘girl like me’ wouldn’t kiss him. So I thought I was helping him by proving to his mates that a girl like me might.”

With the revelation, Harry folds into the chair behind him, processing everything I’m saying. And I continue, telling him what happened that night from my end. I don’t tell him how Dru slowly began to gaslight me, manipulate and isolate me, toy with my feelings. I don’t want to tell him how much he really broke me, I just tell him what he needs to know.

Nobody speaks for a moment, and then several moments pass. He gets up in a rush, running his fingers through his hair. It had grown in the two weeks since he’d cut it and it grows volume as he runs through it again.

“He tried to convince me you were-” he cuts off. “You were high maintenance, you just wanted attention. He told me I didn’t want someone-I didn’t want endgame at 18 but…” he looks at me, crushed. A million thoughts must flicker through his mind as he looks at me for a loaded minute. “I did.”

My words are caught in my throat as I understand how he had felt. How fucking different both our lives could have gone if he was the one to approach me that night at the party.

Before I can say anything he grabs his phone and checks it, he grabs all his things in a frenzy and pauses. “I’m going to fix this Y/N, I’m gonna make it right.”

“Wait what? Harry!” I try to call him back but he moves past me. I rush to move around him, stopping him with a hand to his chest. “Harry don’t do anything crazy. C’mon, let’s just talk.”

“Y/N, there are so many times......” his jaw flexes as he swallows his words.

His hand reaches out to me but they freeze in mid-air before they reach my face. He clenches them, dropping like dead weight to his side. I almost grab them, place them where they would have gone if he had the courage to carry the action out. But he just look at me, a painful faraway look on his face. “I’m sorry.”

His long legs carry him to the door before I can speak another word. I reach for the centre console that make the windows transparent, but he’s out of view by the time I do. I rush out of the room and see him in the doorway of our director’s office. Before I can call his name again, he’s shot off and our director walks out behind him. She notices me, “Y/N. Bring me your notes on Angels--if you’re free right now. Let’s go over it while we still have the momentum.”

God the last thing I can think of doing right now is work but I have nowhere to go, no excuse to give. I get back to the desk and pick up my notes and my laptop, I breathe in and think of all my fragmented pieces reigning back into my chest. I breathe out all the confusion, I put it to the side. Then I go two doors down and present my progress like everything was fucking okay.

***

Rowan’s shows up with wine on Saturday afternoon. I’d been ignoring her calls all of Friday and Saturday because I didn’t know how to break it to her. There was so much I had to hold back from her because I’d never told her the truth about Dru. And it scared me when I thought about coming clean.

“You’re screening my calls now?” She asks, her pup in hand. She lets him down and he shoots through my flat, familiar with it from all the times I dog-sit.

“I’ve just be-I’ve been-I-” I burst out crying before I can finish that sentence. She wraps herself around me and holds me tight and I hate myself for never telling her the whole truth. She holds me until my sobs turn into sniffles.

“Got it all out?” She asks when she pulls away.

“Probably not,” I say miserably. “But come in, sorry for being a shitty friend.”

“Shut up,” she makes herself at home. Unloading the tote from her shoulder that’s filled with food. “I’m going to make you lunch and you’re going to tell me everything about Dru and Harry.”

“What?” I sit on a stool at the bar. “How do you know this is about-“

“I’m with Jared now? I have an ear to the ground!” I look at her shocked. Her and Jared were together? She answers as if she could read my mind. “Yes! Can you believe it? He asked me the morning after, if I wanted to have a serious go at all this. I was like, it took you long enough! But…anyway this isn’t about me. Tell me what happened.”

“No you tell me,” I lean over the countertop. “Did Jared say something? What happened?”

“Okay,” she puts down her ingredients and I take the moment to pick her pup up before he scratches a hole in my jeans. “So I go over to Jared’s on Friday and the house looks like it went through the war. Not like, physically. Well there were things everywhere, but the atmosphere was so dead quiet. Jared takes me to the room and we pass by Harry in the hall. Jared’s like, where are you heading are you alright? And Harry’s all like, I need to get out of here-“

“Harry was there?”

“Yeah he lives in their spare attic bedroom?” She surprises me with the information like I should have already known that. “So I ask Jared what happened when we go and he said Harry came back from work early on Friday. And y’know Jared has odd hours so he was home. And he said Harry was just like a maniac. Jared tried to talk to him but it was like he was going to kill Dru and nobody could talk him out of it. And Jared knew it was serious, because even though they’ve drifted a lot since uni Harry still acted like Dru was his best mate. Jared said…”

Rowan trails off, looking at me curiously. She had this way of telling stories that jumped from one place to another but I couldn’t handle the suspense. I nearly shout, “What?”

“Well Jared said Dru has this way of getting underneath people. He knew how they ticked and he used that against people sometimes. Apparently they used to fight a lot because of that until Jared really put his foot down…Y/N, did he do that to you? Fuck you up like that? Jared said he tried to talk to Dru once when you two were dating but Dru like, got up in his face and nearly bit his head off. He always felt like that’s why Dru and you broke up because that was like the day before you two broke up. Anyway, you never said anything but…did he?”

I swallow. I guess this was it.

Through a brave face, and then a crumbling snotty one, I tell Rowan everything. Everything Dru did, and everything he didn’t technically do. At some point she comes around to sit beside me, holding my hand, my shoulder, and finally pulling me in to hold me while I blubber about how hard it had been.

“I’m so sorry,” Rowan says gently once I quiet down. “Y/N...why did you keep all this to yourself?”

“I just-” I wipe my nose with my sleeve, not caring at this point how disgusting that was. “He took everything away from me, even my identity. I thought if I didn’t tell anybody, nobody had to know how little he reduced me down to. If I didn’t say it aloud, maybe it was only in my head.”

“Oh love,” Rowan’s bottom lip quivers.

“Don’t you dare cry or I’m going to find a whole new waterfall of my own.”

“I won’t!” Rowan laughs but tears trail silently down her face. “That piece of shite. And I...oh god and I always told you to get over it. No wonder you...”

“I always thought it was curious,” Rowan stares off into space when I only shrug. “I only remember Harry from uni because I always found him looking at you, no matter what room we were in, how many people were in there I was always like, this bloke must really like my mate an awful lot because he’s always looking! That or he was a creep. But when you started dating he-who-must-not-be-named, I never looked into it.”

“I didn’t remember him,” I tell her. “He was actually the footballer that helped me my first day. I didn’t realize until that party last weekend.”

“Shut up!” Rowan looks shocked. “That’s so cute.”

“Is it?” I hesitate, realizing Rowan still hadn’t finished her story. “Finish your story, about Dru and Harry.”

“Oh yeah,” Rowan glances to the other side of the kitchen. “I should get back to lunch too.”

She heads around, chopping the vegetables and finishes telling me what happened.

Harry:

I feel fucking on fire, I can’t sit still and the more I move the more I want to punch the living shite out of Dru.

“Just, hold on!” Jared tries to stop me for the fifth time. “What’s this all about?”

“Dru’s fucking-he’s-he’s dead!” I roar. “How did I not see it earlier Jared? That little weasel got in between me and everything I ever loved!”

“What? Har, I know he’s a dick but what did he do?”

“Everything!” I shout. “He’s the reason I showed up drunk to football, he got me kicked off the team! So she never found me! And that internship in first year, he convinced me to be young and free and turn it down! He-Jared he lied to me about her! He knew how I felt and he took her, he fucked her up! He fucked her up!”

“Wait, who is this about-” Jared tries to dig deeper but I push past him when I hear the door open. Jared’s barely taken his jacket off when I have him pushed against the wall, my arm pressed against his throat.

“Harry, mate, what’s-”

“You’re sick, you’re fucking sick for what you’ve done.” I let him go, and he gets a moment to glance from me to his brother before my fist connects with his face.

“What the fuck!” He falls to the floor, clutching his face. “What the fuck’s wrong with you!”

“You lied!” I push him back up. “You lied through your fucking teeth about everything!”

He shoves me in the chest and the narrow hallway catches me on the opposite wall. That only pumps me, I shove him back and with no more words between us we’re a tornado of fists, one to my face, another to his abdomen, his head in a lock, Jared trying to break us apart and gets clipped in the face by his brother.

By the time I have him laying flat on his back, I deliver another fist to his face, but Dru spits blood up at me and laughs. He has the fucking nerve to laugh.

“It’s got to be about a girl,” his voice is hoarse, his breath comes out shaky. “It’s about her isn’t it?”

I lift him by his shirt and crash him back down onto the floor. I vaguely hear Jared, his hand catching my fist before it hits Dru again. I get one more punch with my other hand but Jared is pulling me away from Dru’s defeated form on the ground, sitting my ass on the staircase. But Dru’s sick enough to still have an amused smile on his face.

Everywhere hurts, but I can’t even focus on my own pain when I still want to cause Dru more. Jared holds me back like he knows. Dru props himself slowly on his elbows, shaking his head.

“Did you two talk? Did she finally give you that number Styles? What did she say about me? I’m a monster, I fucked her up? She’s a manipulative bitch-”

“Shut the fuck up-” I jump up but Jared pulls me back again and his hand presses a sore spot on my ribs, I crumple on the step.

“She really did a number on you didn’t she?” Dru sits up. “She knows how to get in your head. Did she tell you I lied? She was obsessed with me Harry, she was a clingy bitch and you don’t know her-”

“I know her,” I use the banister to stand up. “I’ve been working with her since I started my new job, I know her more than you ever did. You were wrong about her. About everything, you only ever gave me shitty advice.”

It gives me satisfaction, seeing the look on Dru’s face. I’d caught him by surprise, he really never knew. “So you’re keeping secrets from me now? You’re letting her come between us?”

“I don’t owe you shite. You’re nothing to me,” I walk over to him still sitting on the ground. “Don’t you ever put her name in your fucking mouth. And if I ever see you talking to her, looking at her, you won’t be able to tell your face from your arse. I know exactly what you are, I can’t believe I was so blind this whole time...you’re fucking dead to me Dru.”

It takes a moment for Dru to focus on me, “I’ll see what happens when she breaks your heart, you won’t have me around when that happens. And it will happen, she’s a slut who’s going to-”

I’m out of body when I swing my fist at his face and it makes a sickening crunch. Dru howls in pain and I stumble back, my fist throbbing in hot flashes.

“Enough!” Jared shouts, jumping in between us. When Dru goes to say something about me Jared blocks Dru from my view. “Enough you fucking dick! Enough! You’ve done enough!”

Dru shuts up; in all the years I’d known them, Jared never raised his voice at his younger brother. I’d heard them bicker plenty, arguing behind closed doors, but Jared never shouted at him like this. The shock is enough to push me out of the fog I was in.

The pain comes to me all at once, I was pretty sure my ribs were badly bruised, and blood gushes down my cheek. My hand feels useless, like the bones had turned to dust.

“Both of you are shutting the fuck up, and getting into the car. I’m driving you both to hospital because Harry’s taken a beating and Dru your nose is broken at the least.”

“I don’t-”

“No,” Jared says calmly to his brother. “In the car. Now. Not a word out of both of you.”

“Shotgun,” Andrew says weakly. Jared throws his jacket in his face and looks back at me. I follow him silently and get into the backseat. ***

Y/N:

I knock and knock but nobody answers the door. I stare at my phone, but I didn’t even have Harry’s number. I move the bottle from one hand to the other, knocking and I take a step back when a face I wasn’t expecting answers the door. It’s Dru, his face is massively discoloured, his nose is bruised and a gash on his cheek is stuck closed with steri-strips.

His grin sends cold dread through my body.

“Looking for your lover boy?” he asks me when I go silent. I stare at his face, at everything that Harry had done and he notices. “He’s good with his hands, but I’m sure you already know that.”

“Y/N,” Jared’s voice comes from behind Dru. “Sorry I was in the shower. Are you looking for Harry?”

It was unreal, how Jared walks up to the door like Dru wasn’t even there. He steps around his brother and in front of him, as if he’d been the one to open the door. I head Dru scoff, mutter something distasteful and move back up the steps.

“Yeah,” I clear my throat when the word gets stuck. “Yeah, uhm, is he here?”

“He moved, you haven’t got his number?” I shake my head no and he texts it to me along with his new address, I have no idea how Dru had my number. He look behind him before stepping towards me, closing the door behind him.

“Y/N, I just want to say I’m sorry. The way my brother treated you, it was wrong. And I should’ve said something to him earlier, but by the time I did it was too late. And then you two broke up and...I know Dru’s younger than me but growing up the way we did...it’s not always been the easiest to stand up to him.”

“Oh,” I wasn’t expecting such a confession.

“Too little, too late—I know. Rowan...she’s not happy with me. I would never hurt her—I’m not trying to get you on my side or anything but I just want to let you know. She said she needed space and it’s made me realize how stupid I’ve been not paying attention to her earlier and...” Jared trails off when he noticed my surprised face. Jared had never said this many words to me, and I also didn’t know Rowan had asked him for space. It was touching.

“I’m talking a lot aren’t I?” He laughs, ducking his head. “You’re probably itching to get to Harry but...I just want to make sure you know I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”

“Thank you,” I say stiffly, not quite sure what to do with his apology. This was the most we ever spoke and he got vulnerable very quickly. Maybe I would speak to Rowan about this break she’s on.

We depart awkwardly and I map out Harry’s new address, it’s less than a 20 minute walk so I go on foot.

My hands nearly drop the bottle in my hand twice, slick with sweat and distracted as I turn the last corner to Harry’s street. A housing complex with a staircase leading to the top level leaves me even more winded by the time I get to the top. I knock and wait a few minutes, just when I think I’m out of luck a movement behind the door stops me from going back down the horrible stairs.

“Y/N,” Harry says from behind the crack in the door he’s opened up.

“Hiya,” I say awkwardly, waiting for the door to open the rest of the way. When it doesn’t, I continue. “Jared gave me your new address...are you free?”

“I don’t know if it’s a good time,” Harry says.

“Right,” shite. “Right, of course sorry I should’ve called. I’ll go, talk to you later. Oh wait, this bottle’s for you and...” Harry still doesn’t open the door wider than a crack so I leave it on the doorstep and scurry down the steps.

What the fuck was that?

By the time I reach home, takeout in hand, my phone lights up with a notification:

Thanks for the wine, I can’t drink it right now with the pills I’m on but maybe I’ll wait to drink it with you.

I don’t know what to say to it, I had this whole speech planned to say in person and now it’s got nowhere to go. I simply heart the message and put my phone away, confused and a little heartbroken.

***

Harry doesn’t show up to work on Monday, apparently he’s out sick. He’s also not in a Tuesday meeting and I would’ve gotten worried but my manager tells me he was working from home. He’d had an injury.

“By the way,” she tells me as I head back after the meeting. “I’m liking the cooperation between you two. I don’t know what you two did to finally get over being enemies but I owe Miriam a big thank you.”

I choke out a laugh, “We realized we’re on the same team.” And even as I say it I realize it, we were on the same team now; he knew about Dru. But I still felt unsettled that he didn’t let me in on Sunday.

I get back to work, happy with the acknowledgement and hoping it gets me somewhere with a promotion. But work is slow moving without Harry, I realize I miss working closely with him. Or popping by his desk to bother him. I take out my phone to text him but upon rereading his strangely removed text he sent on Sunday, I decide against it.

I pour myself a glass of wine as soon as I get home, putting in a load of laundry and taking the work day off. As I’m going to heat dinner, there’s a knock at my door. Somehow, I think I know who it is.

Harry, bruises fading on his face and stitches on his cheek, leans on the doorframe with a massive bouquet in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he says as soon as I open the door.

“I…” I suddenly don’t know what to say. “Do you want to come in?”

He peeks behind me, into my safe space. His expression is unreadable but I don’t know if that’s because of how nervous I am. He looks at me for a solid minute.

“I can’t,” he sighs. “I just want to give you these. And say I’m sorry. About everything. And for shooing you away on Sunday—I looked fucking grisly, I was embarassed and…yeah. I’m sorry. For everything.”

“Okay,” I say tentatively. I take the flowers from his outstretched hand. He flashes me a smile, pushing away from the wall to leave. “Wait.” I stop him from going. “Why can’t you come in? It’s not my murder house.”

“No? Is that a few doors down?”

“It’s actually in the basement if you must know.” I grin. This felt okay.

But he sighs, “I can’t come in Y/N. Not right now, okay?” He brushes back a lock of my hair back and I realize I was no longer wearing any makeup, and my sweatpants definitely had a few questionable holes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Okay,” I whisper. I watch him hobble off.

The bouquet goes in two vases of water because they’re too big for just one. I keep them on my coffee table and I can’t stop staring at them all night long.

***

“It makes you look rugged, just hit up a few pubs with that mug and you’ll have yourself a girlfriend in no time,” a few colleagues stand around Harry in the kitchen examining his fading bruises. Even though my own floor has a kitchen, I came to his for a tea in hopes of bumping into him. I don’t think he’s noticed me yet since his back’s to me.

“Who’s telling you I need a girlfriend?” Harry laughs.

“Mate,” a few people laugh too. “You’re oozing single bachelor. You never come out to drink with us either, you’re the resident mystery man.”

“Yeah he doesn’t ever come out with us does he?”

“Maybe he does have a missus at home.”

“Not with the way him and Y/N are always going at it, those two are like an old couple. Have you heard ‘em?”

“Yeah what is it between you two?”

“Harry’s a pain to be around,” I finally say. Everyone turns towards me, and when Harry’s eyes finally meet mine there’s an inside joke there.

“I’m in pain when you’re around,” he shoots back.

“That’s because someone finally did something about your face,” I motion to his bruises.

“Oh there they go,” someone grumbles and it doesn’t take long for them to disappear.

“Hello,” I say as Harry approaches the counter. “Was that last hit too fresh?”

“My doctors say it’s healing.”

“Mmm this team of doctors you seem to have.”

He smiles at the reference to an old joke and we stand in silence until I ask him.

“And you? You alright?” I busy myself with steeping my tea, not wanting to know if he wasn’t okay with me anymore.

“Yeah, it’s an oxymoron but I got most of my healing done with some violence. Don’t recommend it but it did feel good. You?”

“Oh,” I look up. “I’m…closer to alright than I was before.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Harry briefly touches his pinky to mine. I get we can’t do anything right now in the workplace, but my sudden urge to go around the counter and hug him tightly scares me.

“You’ve already done a lot,” I link my pinky with his instead when he doesn’t move it away. “It’s just…a me thing.”

“Y/N I am sorry I-“

“Harry,” I cut him off. “It’s okay.”

“But I should’ve-“

“Stop,” I tug his pinky. “It’s neither of our faults.”

“Imagine how different everything could’ve-“

“Don’t do that either,” I pick up my tea and finally walk around to his side. “Trust me, you won’t come up for air in time if you drown yourself in that.”

He sighs. “I think I have been.” We begin walking towards his desk in silence, thinking about this last week. Even though I’m left reeling with all the new information, with the what-ifs and could-haves, I also feel like I could finally close a chapter. I had read it aloud to people I trusted and they believed me. They had my back. I felt supported and I felt stronger in the face of my past than I had in a long time.

“This is me,” Harry says outside his department. When I notice none of his team was around I motion my head towards his desk. We walk in.

“You don’t have to punish yourself y’know that?”

Harry puts his mug down on his desk and stares at me with so much sadness it makes my heart hurt. I realize on the way to his desk that’s what he had been doing, that’s why he wouldn’t let me see him. I’d done enough self-punishing, I knew it wasn’t effective at all.

“I sort of feel like I deserve it.”

“Oh Harry,” I put my mug down and finally give in to that hug. And it nearly takes my breath away when he wraps his arms around my waist, rests his head on mine. It felt so right. Dru had fucked both of us over, but we had found each other even if it was just as friends.

“I’m sorry-“ Harry chokes out before his body shudders and I squeeze him even tighter. I pray nobody walks in because I needed this as much as he did. I keep my own tears locked up tight, not prepared to ruin this morning’s makeup. I just hold him for as long as he needs.

“I should be comforting you,” Harry says, his voice a bit stuffy.

“Nah, things are getting better,” I say as he sits down. Now I’m looking down at him. His eyes are pink but it only adds to his bruised look. He takes ahold of my hand, strokes my knuckles.

“You really squeezed my broken rib,” is not what I expect him to say but he always knew how to surprise me.

“I’m so sorry,” I take a step back. “Are you okay? Did I break it again?”

“As if you could break my ribs, you’re too weak for that.”

“Who are you calling weak?” I demand. “I could flip you over now if I wanted.”

“The only flipping you’re capable of is-“ Harry holds up both fingers and I can’t stop my mouth from falling open.

“Seriously you two?” Harry’s teammate walks in on the scene, Harry flipping me off. “It’s bloody 9am.”

I laugh, and so does he. I apologize for the early morning profanity and head towards the door.

“Y/N,” Harry takes two long strides to reach me, away from his colleague who’s settling into her desk. “You forgot your drink.”

“Right,” I take it from his hands, mischief twinkling in his eye. We had inside jokes now.

“I’m okay by the way,” he says to just me. “My ribs were only bruised. I’ll see you later okay?”

I don’t even hide my smile as I walk to the lift.

***

“Y/N,” my name snaps me out of the focused state I’d been in. “Have you finally lost your mind?”

“It’s perfectly intact thank you,” I roll my eyes at Harry, leaning over my desk. “Did you want something?”

“Ehm yeah, it’s end of the day?”

I look at the time: 5:10. When did that happen. “Lost track of time.”

“I’m following you home,” Harry says as I gather my things and start walking to the lifts.

“Did you just invite yourself over?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Sort of,” he has the decency to blush. “I just want to be around…” he trails off as a few of our colleagues join us in the wait for the lift. I want him to finish his sentence so bad but we file into the lift silently and listen to the chatter going on in front of us. Harry brushes his hand against mine but when I glance at him he stares ahead. I can tell he notices me looking when his lips twitch.

I pinch his hand and he yanks it back, “Ow!”

The group quiets and turn to him. He gives an awkward smile, “pinched my finger.”

As soon as the chatter resumes he glares at me but I smile sweetly and stare ahead.

“How did I ever think you were sweet?” Harry says as he follows me out of the building and towards the station.

“I am. You force me to forget my sweet nature,” I shrug.

He bumps into me, “I think I romanticized you too much in my head. You’re really a prickly cactus.”

“Me!? A prickly cactus??” I push him playfully, not entirely forgetting the rest of his words. We part as the crowd sheppards us into the station and onto the tube. We stand side by side close to the doors. “If I’m a prickly cactus, I’m just protecting myself from assholes.”

“That’s not me.” Harry wraps his arm around my shoulder in the close quarters of the tube and my insides go liquid. “Let me in little cactus. We can protect each other.”

I look up at him as the tube rushes to its next destination, and smile. Because even though we’re joking he’s still serious. And it’s seriously sweet.

He notices me looking and raises an eyebrow, “Well?”

“Fine,” I say with a smile on my face. It falls when he presses a kiss to my forehead, my body flushing with heat.

“Good,” he whispers to me. He pulls me closer into the ring of his arms and I have to say it’s the safest tube ride I’d ever had.

***

“Here’s home,” I say once we reach my flat. The 5 minute walk to my flat was pretty silent. Harry had grabbed ahold of my hand as soon as we left the station and with my insides buzzing I couldn’t think of a single thing to talk about. Harry seemed content in the silence.

“It’s very you,” Harry comments. “That’s a lot of books. And blankets.”

My sofa had half a dozen throws and behind my sofa were stacks of books growing up from the ground; impractical but I never got around to installing shelves. Eventually I liked the way they looked and kept them on the floor.

“I’m in publishing,” I shrug. “Books are my life!”

He flicks through the top few and suddenly I’m nervous that he’s here. So much has happened. He was twenty-one, my innocent saviour on a memorably bad day. He was a thorn in my side, and then he wasn’t. He saw me for who I was, not who people said I was. I think I loved him for it. The intensity of that last emotion sends me into my room, mumbling about changing into something more comfortable.

I sit on my bed, making sure my thoughts were actually my own. This was really something I thought.

But it comes to me so easily, it’s like the drawbridge had lifted and the ship carrying all my baggage was on it’s way out. It left behind so much space and I finally saw so much so clearly. Harry and I had a boatload of twisted history, we were always in each other’s peripheral. Now he was here. In front of me. It was scary and exhilerating.

“Do you want dinner?” I ask as I walk back out in a sweatshirt and leggings.

Harry’s standing by my gallery wall, my certificates and art, and photos of loved ones all gathered above my desk.

“I remember her,” he says sadly. He points at me in a photo from a Halloween party in my second semester. It was the first time I went a whole night with zero anxiety, I loved the new friends I made. It held a special place in my heart. “Look there’s me.”

“What?” I move closer, there’s no way I’ve had a photo hanging on my wall with Harry in it for the last 3 years.

But he’s right, in the background slightly cut off is Harry with Jared and someone else I don’t know. Him and Jared are dressed as what looks like Peaky Blinders characters, he’s smiling and when I take the frame off the wall and look closer I notice he’s smiling in the direction he’s looking in and that happens to be where I’m kneeling. He had been right there and I never even knew.

“Wow,” I say. “I never recognized you there.”

Harry takes the photo from me, he stares at it for a long time.

“Dru, he told me back then I wouldn’t have wanted Endgame at 18, 19 whatever. But I don’t think I would have minded.”

“What?” My mind slows down, trying to understand.

“When he was…manipulating me. He told me I wouldn’t want someone like you. I was young! I could be free and not tied down. I didn’t want endgame at that age. But I think I did. I was just too blinded, and scared, to go for it.”

“Are you scared now?” I ask him.

“What? No.”

“So go for it now,” I point to him in the photo. “He’d be proud.”

He looks at his younger self for a moment, lost in thought, and then slowly puts the frame down. He stares at me, a million thoughts behind his eyes. He was overthinking it, I realize. I link my fingers through his belt loops and tug him towards me and it snaps him out of it. His hand cups my face gently and he finally kisses me. It’s unlike any kiss I’d ever have, I feel every emotion he’s trying to say as he presses into me. I feel every heartbeat that ached for me in the way he holds me. It’s gentle, yet passionate, and I was drunk on it.

“Wow,” I breathe when he pulls away. From the dazed look on his face I can tell he feels the same.

“I think I lo-“

I shut him up by pressing another kiss to his lips and he reacts by pushing me into the wall. When we part again I brush his hair off his forehead.

“I love you,” I say even though it makes me want to shit myself.

He freezes for a moment before closing his eyes, a smile creeping onto his lips. “That’s not fair.”

“It is,” I grin. “I said it first.”

“You stopped me from saying it first!”

“I win,” I pull him back to me but he tilts his head to the side so my lips brush his cheek instead. “Sore loser!”

“That was not fair play,” he whines again.

“Who said I play fair?” I challenge him. “I love you! I even said it to you second.”

“No wait!” I slip away from his arms and saunter away. I hear him come up from behind and he pulls my waist back so my back is flush against his chest. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

With each time, he presses a kiss into my neck and I’m jelly in his hands.

“3-5 is me,” he says as he turns me around.

“I was still first,” I say but with less conviction as I come to face him this close.

“Cheater,” he mumbles into my neck.

“I’ll break your ribs again,” I threaten but it sounds like a joke the way it comes out of my mouth.

“As long as it’s not my heart,” he says and even though it’s a joke I can hear the doubt. The past seeping into the present.

“Hey,” I push him away so we’re looking at each other. “I never would have. And I never will.”

He nods but I hold his face in my hands. His hands come up to grip my arms. “Harry, I might be a prickly cactus but you know I’d never hurt you. That wasn’t me.”

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I know. And I’m not him. You’re the air in my lungs Y/N, if I can have you, I’ll never let you go.”

“You have me,” I swear.

This time the kiss is slower, a promise to each other, to stay tender. We move that way into the bedroom, under the covers. He’s perfect. His hands roam every inch, and then his lips. By the time his hands grasp mine in the sheets, I’m blissed out of my mind. But he takes his time and I savour it, even when he whispers about forever.

***

Harry:

“Something’s changed.” O’Neil states in the middle of our last meeting with him. “You two are calmer together. Have you finally slept together?”

Y/N’s cheeks burn with embarassment but before she can speak I laugh, “we finally figured things out.”

“Good.” He nods. “I like you two together. Even though you didn’t read my book.”

Now I turn red and Y/N barks a laugh. This makes O’Neil grin and Y/N kicks me under the table.

“He’s very good at reading notes,” she says, gloating that someone other than herself has finally called me out. “Unless you write moon, then it’s neon.”

“It’s all good,” O’Neil claps my shoulder as he stands. “You did my book justice. I know she’s the one that deserves the credit but you two are finally a team. Stay that way.”

“We plan to,” Y/N says. I stand with her as we see the author out of the final meeting. He shuts me up when I try to apologize and tells me privately to hold her close. I intend to.

“That was a success,” Y/N says as we tidy up the meeting room. “The book’s on shelves in four weeks and we made that happen.”

“We did,” I can’t help but lean over and plant a kiss on her cheek. I loved when she got flustered at work.

We thought nobody had noticed the change in us at work until last week when our manager asked if we had gone to HR yet. That was an awkward conversation but she didn’t seem too bothered so we’d made the trip to make our relationship work-official. Y/N and I had been spending a lot of time in her flat, wrapped in each other. Sometimes we went out with Jared and Rowan, and Rowan threatened me many times to be good to her. I told her to do the same with Jared.

After everything with Dru, Jared moved out as well because Rowan wouldn’t date him if she had to see Dru around every time she went over. I wasn’t sure what Dru was up to but I know Jared got lonely sometimes. I could never understand their relationship but I was happy to see him with Rowan, they were good for each other.

“What are you thinking about?” Y/N snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Stuff,” I say.

“Sounds juicy,” she teases.

“Might be,” I walk over to her, unable to keep my hands off of her. It was a problem at work since we tried to stay as professional as possible but here in the blacked out room I took the risk.

“Tell me more,” her eyes are glued to my lips as I lean into the table, towering over her.

I draw her into a deep kiss, her hands tangling in my hair which usually tips me over the edge. She knows it. She knows I know she knows it. So I step away instead and her sweet smile vanishes.

“Come back,” she reaches for me.

“I’ll see you at home,” I peck her on the lips and grab my laptop.

“Not fair!” She says after me.

“I’ve got a meeting and you,” I grin. “Have to learn to play fair.”

“You’ll regret this,” she crosses her arms, trying to look menacing.

“You look cute when you don’t get your way,” I say before opening the door and shifting into work mode again. “Great meeting!” I shout back as I leave the room. I wouldn’t see her until the end of the day and with her mounting frustration at me, I couldn’t wait for 5pm to come around.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #office!harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #endgame #fic #writingsfromhome #harrystylesxreader #happy these two found their way back to each other #and happy i found my way back to my fics #😅 #enemies to lovers #College!Harry #it got so loooong

[romeavecryst]

Crush Culture˖ ࣪⊹

I. Nervous

sum: Tsukishima minding his business until he runs into someone while on his way to the bathroom.. why was his heart beating so fast, why where his hands so sweaty. Was he nervous? gross.

warnings: cursing, tsukishima having and attitude and reader having an even worse attitude, flirting, Blk!coded reader!

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

A practice match against Nekoma, karasunos rivals. Everyone was excited well mostly everyone. The bus ride was long enough, and now he had to play, fun! Tsukishima was never one for the loudness that came with his team the stupidity that came for the two other first years to go along with it always got in his nerves. Lost in thought as he grabbed his bag tuning out the loudness. The school was big, I didn’t help people were just leaving classes as they arrived. The stares the team received, the whispers as they followed, a few girls here and there pointing out Tsukishima a fawn giggle leaving their lips as he continued walking.

“Annoying..” he muttered putting his headphones back on shoving his hands in his pockets.

Nekomas team captain had shown them a team room they could change and leave their stuff in, more spacious than the one at school. Leaving his stuff behind he went to hunt down a bathroom, he just wanted to wash his face and fill his water bottle.

He mentally punched himself for forgetting his headphones making himself seem approachable. Why would these school girls think that? After the multiple no thank you’s as he walk, he was going to lose his mind. These girls didn’t even know him yet felt the could walk up to him a simple ‘hey I think your cute.’ Would get him into their Snapchat. Yeah no. Maybe he was a dick but he simply didn’t care, he didn’t want the attention he didn’t ask for it nor put himself out there.

A solid thud to his chest knocking him back was enough to knock him out of his thoughts “For fucks sake watch where your going.” He groaned.

Looking up his eyes met a girls who was now giving him a dirty look, once an apologetic one. “Ya’ know I was gonna apologize until you decided to be a dick about it, god didn’t your mother teach you to have some manners.” She scoffed, her voice wasn’t high nor low but was still a bit deeper then what he expected a nice medium.

“Excuse me?” He glared at her.

“Your excused baby, but watch who you’re talkin’ to with that tone.” She spoke, her arms crossing across her chest as her hip piped out to the side.

Her attitude pissed him off, the red track suit she wore fitted tight different material then most track suits it hugged her body yet was still modest, on her thigh read ‘Nekoma Vollyball’ a spot on her chest ‘Manager’. Your fucking kidding me he thought. His eyes soon met her her dark ones giving him a nasty glare as he stood up straight, his eyes now examining her, her complexion was dark, the way her makeup sat in her face making her look nice and glowy, her lashes were long extensions maybe? The makeup around her eyes Smokey with a sharp wing, her lips lined and filled in slightly a dark cherry gloss coat over her lips. A gold hop in her nose matching the sets in her ears. Her hair was straight, parted to the side slicked back behind her ears her hair was a little past her shoulders.

He was definitely starring to hard because the snap of her fingers brought him back. The sound of her Acrylics making the snap a bit louder, “hello? I’m still waiting for an apology.” Her tone snarky he could see the little smirk in the corner of her lips.

He scoffed “I’m sorry?” His voice felt shaky.

Her lips pulled up quickly into a smile “thank you! And your forgiven, don’t be to late warmups will start soon.” she said walking away waving her fingers at him giving him a toothy grin, making Tsukishimas stomach tingle. Cocky little fucker. He scoffed, did that really just happen.

“What the fuck.” He said to himself his eyes wide, a half smile on his face. “What the fuck just happen.” He laughed irritably his hand touching his chest, god his heart was beating fast, are you kidding me. Did she just make him nervous. Gross. A girl being snarky and irritated towards him made him nervous.

Looking as his hands rubbing them together they were cold and clammy, no fucking way. He groaned whipping his face dramatically. He quickly opened the bathroom door. It wasn’t even the way she looked at him, her big eyes getting small as she glared as him, how her lips frowned as she crossed her arms. This is gross, disgusting actually. Why was he nervous he didn’t even know her. Plus she had an attitude her voice was annoying, but why did it continue to ring through his ears when she called him ‘baby’ her being obviously sarcastic with how her tone held it. Calling him that in a mocking manner. And he didn’t say shit back.

“I don’t know who’s fuckin’ son that is be he needs to be popped in the mouth.” She scoffed walking up to Nekomas team captain.

“Who needs to be beat up.” Kuroo asked. Getting the attention of Fukunaga, Yamamoto, and Lev.

“Some blonde kid tall lanky.. glasses. He’d be cute if he didn’t have a mouth on him.” She admitted turing away from the boys grabbing a clipbord.

“THAT SCRAWNY FIRST YEAR!” Yamamoto yelled.

Her eyes looked back at him raising an eyebrow “He’s a first year? Interesting..” she said smirking.

“I thought we were taking a break from boys.” Yaku said standing next to her his hip bumping hers.

She gasped dramatically “Yaku you act like I’m boy crazy have some more faith in me.” She smiled. “Plus I’m not into blondes.”

“It’s just that he’s blonde not even younger than you.” Kuroo said crossing his arms a teasing smirk on his lips.

She shrugged her shoulders “I’m both, Cougar, panther. I like my men well dressed, good music, treats me well and my dad has to like him.” She spoke simply her index finger tapping her chin, her gaze leaning Kuroo as the said blonde walked in to the gym his eyes meeting hers quickly, only to break eye contact immediately. She smiled amusingly “Plus he won’t know what to do with all this.” She spoke confidently her hands tracing her body.

“I hate you both. The only real person I like here is Fukunaga and maybe lev,” legs head Turing quickly about to say something only for her to cut him off “depending on the day.” She pointed at him.

“I’m gonna throw up on you.” Kuroo and Kenma said.

“So you hate me.” Yaku said, “no bae it not like that!” She fake cried.

“No no I get it.” He scoffed.

Tsukishima watch from the other side of the court how she laughed with her team mates, helping them warm up. He watched how she tucked her hair behind her ear moving it out of her face. How she talked to guys helping them with something when they came to her asking about form of how the should fix it. Her voice was faint but it was kind, unlike earlier when she spoke to him. Her eyes were the same, his heart dropped when her eyes met his, a smirk meeting her lips as she raised a brow as in saying she caught him looking again. He only scoffed shaking his head paying attention to his own team again.

Even during the match he kept stealing glances. How she sat next to the coaches talking to them while pointing at players them nodding and taking in what she said. “Yo! You got a problem blondie? Staring at our manager, I get she’s pretty but she’s not into blondes.” Yamamoto said making a face at tsukishima earning a smack to the back of the head from Kuroo.

“Don’t mind him but he’s right. Plus she’s to old do ya kid.” Kuroo smirked.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes she’s older? Third year maybe? To bad. “keep her I don’t want her. Plus she’s not even my type. I cant stand snotty little brats.” He smiled.

The two glared at him “ better watch your mouth.”

“Oh I did, I don’t like brats.” Tsukishima said popping the t.

Daichi quickly grabbed him “Sorry he’s not great with words, excuse him.” His tone apologetic as he patted Tsukishima on the back passive aggressively.

Tsukishimas snarky comments about the team’s manager obviously got back to the rest of the team and her because that whole team had it out for him. Maybe he was a bit of a dick but it’s just how he was. After saying their thank you’s he watched as the two managers, walked up to each other hugging. Saying goodbyes. As Kiyoko walked away his eyes met hers for the last time, her giving him a mocking smile waving as him with her fingers the acrylics on her nails making it seem more dramatic. He glared Turing his back to her, the tips of his ears hot, as his heart thumped heavy.

There’s no fucking was she made him nervous. Gross he doesn’t even know her name as he makes his hands sweaty and shaky.

This is bullshit.

#haikyu x reader #hq kei tsukishima #tsukishima kei x you #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x you #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima imagine #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader

[nerdynuala]

I don't know if you accept requests like this, but could I ask for hange hcs as a regular student? I would like to know their routine and hobbies!

Hi! It's been a while since my last headcanons but heck I find it fun and relaxing to make them up so I'm more than willing to give Student Hange a try ^^

Sooo here we go! I'm gonna go through the stages of students hahah from elementary school up to university.

Elementary School Hange

- messy kid, always manages to spill ink on themself and somehow get paint and dirt all over their clothes.

- literally so excited the first day of elementary school! While there were other kids crying or being shy, Hange was literally jumping up and down, thrilled by the new environment and looking forward to finally learn good stuff.

- the worst at music and singing, and also a really bad actor in school plays. Hange may lack the talent, but not the enthusiasm.

- very quick to learn, thinking outside the box and helping other kids out.

- Loves science but contrary to what people might expect, their favorite class is P.E. they just have too much energy. Loves dodgeball, swimming and baseball.

Middle School Hange

- at this stage, Hange is the typical student that appears as lazy and not interested in class but has actually the top marks.

- a bit challenging to authority. Hange does not lack respect, but treats professors as if they were friends. Also, gives respect only if given respect. Don't mess around with this kid.

- They literally can be chatting with their neighbor, doodling on their notebook, staring out the window, be half asleep and a large etcetera, but each time they're asked what the professor was talking about, they know everythint about it and even extend that information.

- Favorite class now is science and in their free time they investigate about chemistry. Cannot wait to take chemistry in high school.

High school Hange

- Nailing multitasking since a very young age definitely shows now: they can sit through the first lesson absorbing the information like a sponge, while doing the homework for the next class (that they should've done the day before)

- Literally the kid you see doing last minute homework even on the bus. Everything is done last minute but they manage to get everything right and perfect.

- Gets frequently asked by classmates what their method for studying is. Literally does not know. "I dunno man, I just re-read the chapter and the notes I managed to scribble in class lol"

- Needless to say, doctor's handwriting. Sometimes they cannot even read their own notes. Their professors complain all the time and one of them even refused to correct their test if they didn't write it with decent handwriting.

- Neither popular nor a nerd. Literally in between, gets along with basically anyone and can adapt to different groups. Levi calls them "chied of the nerds" all the time though. He sometimes even jokes saying "one nerd to rule them all" because Hange is literally the only extroverted nerd and they all basically worship them.

- Favorite class is chemistry by now. Shows up first and arrives late to the next class because they get entertained by chatting with the professor about chemistry stuff.

- Takes latin as an extra-curricular class.

University Hange

- Studies at night. If they don't have classes in the morning, literally sleeps until noon and studies during all night.

- Has dog ears on each and every book they own. The insides of the covers all full of messy doodles and scribbles.

- Sometimes, when studying directly from the book, will underline different types of information with different colors. Other times will just underline with a pencil and circle words with too much force and leaving the mark on like five pages underneath. Either way can study confortably.

- Coffee addict. By the fourth class in the day, they've had 5 cups already.

- Asks tons of questions. Loves debates. Will participate in everything and loves sharing their opinion on basically any topic.

__________________________________________________

There! I tried to keep it general, I hope it is what you were looking for, but feel free to ask more of them <3

#ask box #answered #headcanons #hange #hange zoe #student hange #this might have gotten out of hand #definitely too long #lol #I kinda based middle school and high school Hange on myself lol #besides the chemistry stuff #i mean i found that interesting but was not such a fan #but I was kinda like that with philosophy

[everthewip]

A Stardew Valley fanfic I started some time ago & fully intend to continue. It's about Shane because I love him and also about how Stardew is actually kind of creepy deep down. This will be going on AO3 once I have a couple chapters done. Fully excerpt below the cut.

She arrived by bus late in the night, which is apparently a topic worthy of early morning gossip. Jas sits quietly at the table, finishing a bowl of cornflakes that Shane snuck a teaspoon of sugar into when Marnie wasn't looking. The woman in question is in the next room, chatting to Robin by the front door. Neither of them are quiet enough to be discreet, at least not until Marnie glances over and sees Jas peering at the older women. The girl gives a small, innocent wave and Marnie ushers Robin further away from the kitchen and out of earshot.

    Jas pouts.

    Shane takes a seat beside her, glancing warily at the oven clock.

    7:05 AM. He's going to be late again, but it's either deal with Morris or deal with Robin trying to make small talk. It's not hard to figure out which is preferable.

    “Ms. Penny said Vincent and I aren't allowed to play in the fields anymore,” Jas comments, stirring her cereal idly.

    “You shouldn't be playing up there anyway, it's wild and dangerous.”

For not the first time guilt weighs on his shoulders. He should be the one keeping an eye on Jas; he didn't even know she'd been up at the old farm.

    Jas exhales a big sigh.

    “I knooow, but we never went far!” She turns a little to look at him, eyes large and too full of lively wonder for 7:08 in the damn morning.

“There's a pond and Vincent tries to catch the frogs but they're too fast and one time he tripped over a rock and scratched his knee, but I TOLD him he was gonna get hurt and he didn't listen and --”

    “See,” Shane interrupts, head already pounding, though less from Jas' enthusiasm and more-so from his own hangover. “Vincent got hurt, it's too dangerous.”

    The girl slumps down in her chair with her pout and for a few minutes he's blessed with quiet.

    “Do you think we'll meet her?”

    Now it's Shane's turn to sigh, though his is far less dramatic and more weary than anything.

    “I dunno, probably.”

    He hopes not, truth be told. The new farmer is just one more person in this town who'll look down on him, remind him of how shit he is, how shit his life is, how much better Jas deserves, how -

    “I hope she's nice… And likes purple and dolls.”

    “Mm.” He glances at the clock.

    7:15.

    By some miracle the front door opens and shuts, and Shane quietly thanks his luck. He'll need to wait a bit longer, just to make sure Robin is far enough ahead that she won't notice him walking and try to chat. Marnie re-enters the kitchen soon-after, brow furrowed.

    “Hope it was good gossip for how late I'm gonna be.”

    His aunt shoots him an annoyed look, arms crossed. “You could have left any time, Shane.”

    And he has nothing to say to that because she's right. He could have used work as an excuse to not stick around and talk, but then he'd risk Robin offering to walk with him into town, and being late was still a better alternative than listening to her talk about carpenter shit. Either way, it's his own damn fault for waiting. It's always his own damn fault.

    “Robin was there to meet the new farmer when she arrived last night,” Marnie says, changing the subject before it can turn into an argument in front of Jas. “The bus was late getting her here, the poor girl.”

    Late, just like he’s going to be. Another glance at the clock only confirms it. He opens his mouth to say as much, but Marnie takes a seat and keeps talking.

    “It's the oddest thing, though.” Her brow furrows again, her gaze turning to the window. Shane and Jas watch her for a long, hushed moment.

  “What is, Aunt Marnie?” Jas perks up, eager to hear more about the new farmer and collect gossip of her own to share with Vincent.

    But the woman remains quiet, gaze fixed on the window, until Jas reaches over to poke her arm. Marnie jumps, lets out a chuckle, and reaches over to lightly poke Jas right back.

    “Oh nothin', just the bus being so late, that's all.”

    She's lying. Shane's seen her lie to Jas before, usually when it pertains to him and his drinking. Even hungover he can recognize the way her smile twitches, the weight of worry in her eyes.

    “You done with breakfast?” she asks and Jas nods. “Why don't you go change into some pants and boots so you can help me gather eggs in a bit.”

    It's enough to get the girl to hop down from her chair and hurry out of the kitchen, no doubt hoping to catch more chatter about the new farmer if she's quick enough. Shane watches her go until he feels Marnie's gaze on him.

    “You know,” she starts. “That old bus at the stop broke down decades ago.”

    “And?” He pushes his chair back, stands. He really doesn't have time for this.

    “Well, Robin says it was too dark to tell, but she only saw one bus out there last night, the one the farmer got off of.”

    He doesn't care about this new farmer or what Robin saw, but he lingers anyway. Marnie's gaze is distant, hard to read. He's not used to this look on her.

    “She went back this morning and, oddest thing, says that old broken down bus is still there.”

    “Well, she said herself, it was dark,” Shane offers. “She probably just missed it.”

    He doesn't know how one can miss a bus even in the dark… Granted, he doesn't know Robin that well, but she's probably not the type to pay much attention to anything but wood.

    “Hm, probably.” Marnie shrugs, glances to the clock, and utters a sharp gasp. “Shane, you're gonna be late!”

    “Yeah, no shit.”

    And he hurries out, ignoring Marnie's protests about his language.

    Her words stick with him, though. It's misty that spring morning and fortunately he doesn't run into anyone as he enters the town. His mind wanders, thinking about the bus stop to the north. He never goes up there, probably never will, and doesn't remember what the area even looks like, least of all that old bus. A newer bus from the city probably parked behind it and Robin just didn't notice. Whatever the case, the fact that he's running late because Robin and Marnie thought it worth gossiping about only sours his already shitty mood.

    To make it worse, he doesn't see the figure lurking outside of Pierre's until he's already too close to pick a new path; without making it obvious he's avoiding whoever it is.

    It has to be the new farmer, he thinks. Everyone knows what time the store opens. No one stands outside this early waiting for the doors to unlock. He keeps his head down, eyes on the ground, pretending not to notice her and hoping she catches the hint and ignores him.

    She doesn't.

    “Oh, morning!” she exclaims and Shane fancies a hint of relief in her tone. “Could you-”

    “No.”

    It's quick, rude, but to the point. He doesn't have time to talk, least of all to help this stranger out. It'll be bad enough when he gets an earful from Morris.

    “Oh, um. Okay then...”

    He can feel her eyes on him until he rounds the corner of the building, but he doesn't spare a single thought more for the new farmer. If he’s lucky, she won’t spare a single thought for him, either. 

#writeblr #my writing #wip #stardew valley #stardew fanfic #stardew shane #fanfic wip #fanfic

[thinkingjasico]

what if when jason woke up on the bus with piper and leo the only memory he had was the name nico di angelo?

The first and second part of this post rewriting The Lost Hero, Son of Neptune, Mark of Athena and House of Hades are in this link <3

Making BoO in a new post bc that one was already a bit long. So shall we finally finish this rewriting HoH with BoO? Walk with me...

Nico has gone with Reyna and Coach Hedge to take the Athena Parthenos, and Jason is on the ship with the others nearing the end of the mission.

For jasico shippers BoO already starts with the iconic "gods...nico" which is already so gay that I don't even need to change it.

The book starts with Jason’s POV extremely worried about Nico and we're going to pretend here that his arc with his mother ended in a better way. Maybe with Jason pretending to accept her proposal and staying in the Odysseus' Palace with his mother to see what else he can find out about Gaia's plans. Piper and Annabeth manage to get away and get to the ship. The rest of the crew gets a little pissed at Jason and wants to leave, but Piper and Leo explain to everyone that they have to stay and wait, that Jason must have a plan and must not have really allied with Gaia. So Jason gets all the information they need and thinks he's gonna have to fly or something like that until he finds the ship because he thinks they must have gone and left him behind (the abandonment complex this boy has...) and then Jason manages to scape, but Michael Varus, Beryl and other soldiers intercept him, Jason denies his mother that same way but makes a whole speech, he takes the stab but manages to fly, almost falling, and get out of there. He thinks he won't be able to fly for much longer to find the Argo II and will fall into the sea and die. At that moment he sees the ship in the distance and thinks that it's the first time that people have not given up on him and abandoned him. When he arrives everyone helps him and Jason, almost fainting, says he doesn't believe they stayed there at the risk of being attacked and Hazel, who doubted Jason the most, says that of course they did because they are like a family now and you cant leave your family behind.

Meanwhile, Nico is starting to feel weak from the shadow travel. Little by little he gets closer to Reyna and trusts her more. Nico remembers how Jason always said that when Nico felt ready to open up to friendships he would see how many people would like to get to know him better, not just Jason and Hazel. Nico found it hard to believe because he'd had a small crush on Percy when he was younger, which he saw would come to nothing when he found out Percy liked Annabeth, and for a long time Nico thought he wasn't worthy of love at all and felt guilty about his feelings for boys. His mother died, his sister too, his first crush not only didn't feel the same way, but he often actually seemed to hate Nico… and then when Nico allowed himself to start believing he could be loved by Hazel and Jason, if he actually felt the same for Nico—Jason was taken and placed as someone else's boyfriend. But little by little Nico begins to see that Reyna, like his sisters and Jason, doesn't expect anything from him. She doesn't want anything from him, except his friendship.

Gradually Nico talks a little with Reyna about Jason, but he talks about it like they're just friends and he's worried about Jason because he's feeling something strange. Reyna obviously realizes that it's not just friendship, as she always suspected, and tells Nico to try to get in touch with Jason. So Nico manipulates his dreams to get into Jason's. It's difficult because Jason doesn't have the preparation or powers to control his own dreams. But when entering Jason's dreams, Nico can feel that he is dying. Nico wakes up startled but before he can tell Reyna that they need to IM the Argo II— they are attacked.

Jason feels something strange when he wakes up, almost as if he's had a vivid dream—but stranger. He wakes up hearing Nico's voice, but he's not there. Feeling his presence and hearing his footsteps... but Nico must already be on the other side of the continent about to make the jump across the Atlantic. Jason feels the ship rocking a lot and goes to the deck. He offers to go down with Percy and that's when Jason gets better and makes the promise of the shrines to the gods.

Nico is in Portugal, very weak and almost dying, when he sees his father and Hades says the "I want you to be an exception" (I have a post about this line here 🥺) and Nico decides to IM Jason.

He's in the infirmary tending to some injuries with Piper when Nico appears nearby. Piper is startled and at least three light bulbs explode when Jason sees Nico there.

"Sorry I didn't mean to appear out of the blue but this thing doesn't have a ringtone or anything." Nico is a little embarrassed because Jason had his shirt up for Piper to bandage his abdomen. Jason drops his shirt in the same second.

"No, dont worry about it." He gets closer to the IM. "Did something happen? Are you okay? Reyna? Coach?"

Nico gives a small smile because that is how Jason is. He is the one in the infirmary tending to injuries, and Nico felt he was on the verge of death— but there he is worried about others.

"We are all fine."

"You don't look fine." Nico really is very thin, sunken-eyed and clearly weak.

"Look who's talking. I felt a strange thing as if you were dying, but I guess at least that didn't happen, right?"

Jason smiles. "No. I'm very much alive."

"That's great." Nico wants to look at him whole, ask more, tell about his conversation with his father, tell him about getting closer to Reyna. Tell Jason how every time he walks into the void filled with emptiness and he has to focus on the next destination, his mind betrays him and thinks about Jason and he almost ends up on the Argo II again with Reyna, Hedge and the Athena Parthenos in Jason's room. And Jason looks at him like he also has a million things to say.

Piper clears her throat and they both snap out of their trance and look at her. "I think your bandage is fine for now, Jason." She gathers a few things and throws them away. "I'll give you a second. Nico, please say hi to Reyna for me." And she leaves.

Jason turns back to Nico rather embarrassed.

"I've been thinking—"

"I wanted to know if—"

They speak at the same time.

Jason chuckles. "You go first."

Nico nods and tries to muster up the courage but can't look at Jason, so he looks down. "I've been thinking about not going to the Underworld if this war ends well for us."

"Really?!" Nico looks up and Jason has wide eyes and a bright smile.

"Really." Nico tries not to smile too, and he doesn't know why it's so hard to control his smile every time he's with Jason even if it's an IM being countries away from each other. But whenever he sees him, the skeleton butterflies in Nico's stomach want to come back to life. It's really irritating.

"And what made you change your mind?" Jason asks and Nico notice he's trying his best to control his smile. "If I may ask."

Nico shakes his head and looks away for a second to control his involuntary blushing. "Many things." Nico turns back to Jason. "Let's say one day a very annoyingly smart boy told me that it's possible to choose your family and have people in your life who care about you and love you for who you are and who make you want to choose to live and fight for those people. And I've been starting to think this might be true."

Jason's eyes that had previously been a little gray from the possible pain of his injuries, gleamed again as Nico saw it happen every time they were together. "I'm glad to hear that. I wonder if this smart boy is among those people."

Nico rolls his eyes but a small smile tugs at the tip of his lips. "Annoyingly smart, don't forget."

Jason nods, feigning seriousness. "Of course."

Nico shakes his head and hears Reyna calling to him in the distance. He looks for where her voice is coming from and sees that Reyna and Hedge are running to him.

"Holy crap." Nico says scared.

"Nico what..." Jason asks worriedly.

Nico doesn't even turn to him. "I have to go." Nico runs his hand over the message and it disappears.

At that moment they are attacked by the werewolves and Nico gets seriously injured. They make the next jump to escape and meet with the Hunters and Amazons (which means, Thalia). We're in Reyna's POV so she's shocked that Thalia is Jason's sister and wonders how Nico will react. Nico wakes up with the note that the hunters took Reyna and he gets mad. He goes out and buys the classic palm tree shirt and then meets Thalia briefly. She says that Reyna didn't know much about how Jason is but as Nico stayed longer on the ship she asks him if he doesn't know anything else, Nico is kind of embarrassed and Thalia doesn't understand why, so he just says that Jason was injured but that he seems to be recovering well. Nico tells Thalia about his theory about the end of the prophecy and Thalia gets serious and thoughtful, and says she hopes Nico is wrong, but they both know he's not.

With great difficulty they make the next jump and Nico soon finds Bryce.

On Jason's side and the Argo II, they are sure they need the doctor's cure or Jason or Leo will die at the end of the prophecy. Jason thinks it's okay if he has to die, as long as he at least gets to see Nico one last time, if only to tell him not to give up on his life and not go to the Underworld.

After killing Bryce in the most sinister way possible, Nico passes out and is unconscious for days. When he wakes up he tells Reyna and Hedge everything. Everything about him, about Jason... He can't look at them and really want to cry.

"It would be weird being two guys together. But it makes it even worse that Jason is…well, Jason, and I am me."

"Kid, I don't understand." The coach says. "You demigods complicate things too much. What would be wrong with two men together? It's natural for me as men and women, satyrs and nymphs…" Nico looks at them a little confused but hopeful. Reyna nods with a smile and Nico with teary eyes smiles weakly. "And another thing, the Grace boy is quite annoying but he's a good figther, you're the same. If he likes you and you like him, I don't know what could stop you." Nico and Reyna laugh a little.

Coach says he'll get things ready for them to go and Reyna stays behind to talk to Nico.

Nico looks at her embarrassed. "I know you liked him, I don't want to..."

Reyna holds up a hand, silencing Nico. "Nico I didn't like Jason— I liked the idea of him. The son of Jupiter, praetor by my side, very powerful demigod and a soldier like no other. I thought I needed to be with a boy like that, and I don't know, maybe I was wrong about that in many ways." Nico frowns in confusion and Reyna smiles. "You trusted me, and I'm grateful for that. After this madness is over and I can think about myself instead of a war, maybe I can understand what it was I had for Percy and Jason, and why that happened. Then I'll talk to you about it. But just know that you and Jason are two of the demigods who most deserve a happy life after all you've been through." She places her hand on Nico's shoulder and he was still processing the 'Percy' part of what she said. "We can die at any moment, you more than anyone knows that— Will you really let fear stop you from being happy and making him happy?"

Back to Jason.

They got the doctor's cure and are reaching Athens. Jason and Hazel tried to contact Nico again but couldn't, and the two are anxious and wondering if Nico died in that attack. Hazel says he's not dead, that she would know if he was, but they are still afraid.

Hazel and Jason are on the deck waiting for the others to finish putting on their armor. They are looking at the blue sea and Athens approaching at every second.

"I wish I had spoken to him one more time." Hazel says and Jason looks at her. "In case we don't make it out of here."

"We're going to get out of here. This is just the beginning of the battle, we still have Gaia ahead of us." Hazel nods and looks at him very seriously.

"I know you guys don't talk about it with others. But back at Camp Jupiter I knew you guys spent all day together while I did my training." Jason’s eyes wide a little. "Every night I saw Nico arrive at the barracks with a silly smile on his face that didn't match his sadness and distance of the rest of the time. He didn't even have to tell me much other than silence when I asked if he liked you for me to understand everything."

Jason couldn't help but smile a little. "I've been remembering more and more things. Like coming home with a silly smile too." Hazel chuckles but Jason's smile fades little.

"What is it?"

Jason shakes his head. "I don't know. It's weird that I didn't have my memories altered to think that all of this happened between Piper and I, like it was for her. And I feel guilty about that. I know it's crazy—"

"Jason you shouldn't feel guilty about losing your memories but not having false memories of her. It was bad enough for you to forget your life and who you are. It's Juno's fault that this happened to you guys, not yours."

"I know, it's just..." Jason lets out a weary breath and looks back at Piper helping Annabeth with her armor. "I know it was hard for her, and I can't help but blame myself. And at the same time I don't understand why Juno tortured her with these false memories and left Nico's name in my head and didn't put Piper in my memories of him." He looks at Hazel who seems to be paying close attention to the matter.

"Mist is complicated Jason. Maybe even being a goddess Juno didn't have full mastery of it."

Jason nods thoughtfully and looks away and now Athens is even closer. Jason’s heart races. "Hazel, please promise me something."

She nods. "Sure, what is it?"

Jason looks at her. "Maybe at the end of the mission I will die—" Hazel opens her mouth to speak but Jason continues. "I know we have the cure, but I've been thinking... We only have one cure, what if Leo and I die? I'd rather you use the cure on him." Hazel frowns. "And if that happens, I just want you to please promise me that you'll be with Nico, that even though he's on one side of the country at Camp Half-Blood and you're on the other at Camp Jupiter, that you'll be family to each other, and that he won't be alone."

Hazel smiles and takes his hands. "Nico may be on the other side of the planet and I will never abandon him. And you will not die, you'll also be with him and we'll all be a family." Jason looks down feeling his chest tighten. Nico could be in danger right now, maybe the seven won't even make it back to Camp Half-Blood no matter how much Jason tells Hazel they are. Maybe when Jason arrives Nico will be dead, maybe Jason will die in the end... it's a one in a million chance that this will have a happy ending.

Nico arrives at the camp and finds Will, Lou and Cecil. They go together to try to infiltrate the Roman army. And Nico realizes how little are their chances to survive this war.

The Argo II reach Athens and they fight the Giants alongside the gods. In the end Zeus blames Hera and Apollo, and Jason defends Apollo. They are heading towards the ship but Jason stops for a second beside Hera while Leo and the others prepare the ship. Hera looks confused by Jason's approach, but happy that he wants to talk to her after all.

"Weird that you being the goddess of marriage broke so many hearts with this plan of yours." Hera's smile disappears instantly.

"Jason..."

"With all due respect my lady, but I don't want to hear any excuses. The only thing I want to know is why did you leave him in my head? Why did you leave Nico's name and his presence in the memories I'd forgotten?"

Hera looks at him confused. "Jason I didn’t let him in your head." She rolls her eyes and huffs. "My original idea was for you to have your memories altered for the Aphodite's daughter and for Percy to have his memories altered for the praetor at Camp Jupiter. It was my chance to ruin the happiness of the two demigods I detest the most, Annabeth Chase and Nico di Angelo. But... I was doing it all alone, hidden, and in such a hurry... So whatever it was, you two managed not to let your memories be altered and remembered them."

Jason was too stunned to notice Aphrodite nearby until she giggled and Hera turned to her. "'Whatever it was' of course. Meddle in these matters and hurt my daughter... You have a lot more to worry about now than with Zeus."

Jason feels the fight coming in the air and leaves to join the others with his head spinning.

It wasn't Hera, it was him. All this time Jason was feeling weak and  vulnerable without his memories, but he wasn't weak. Jason managed to dodge a goddess messing with his mind.

Everyone gathered on the deck with Leo yelling for them to hold on tight. Jason saw his dad give the ship a slap. But Jason’s mind and heart were racing faster than the Argo II flying across europe and the Atlantic.

The Argo II arrives at the camp. The battle is insane on the ground and Leo yells for everyone to leave while the ship is on fire, Jason doesn't want to leave him but Leo tells him to go with Piper. None of them are happy to leave Leo behind but Jason grabs Piper and flies off into battle.

Here I don't even need to change the canon because, again, it was already very gay. "Jason’s heart lifted when he saw Nico di Angelo on the front lines with the Greeks, slashing his way through a crowd of two-headed men."

Jason goes down with Piper and Reyna goes to them and when Piper goes out with Reyna, Nico sees Jason and the world feels like slow motion. Nico runs towards him killing monsters along the way in a matter of seconds. Jason's heart will come out of his mouth, he's sure of it. All around him the world is ending and he can't seem to get rid the hum of his pounding pulse in his ear. Nico comes to him and Jason opens his mouth to say something— but Nico kisses him. Jason feels the heat of battle all around him, but it's nothing compared to his body on fire. A very loud thunder rumbles through the sky as Jason pulls Nico close to kiss him back "To storm or fire, the world must fall" and that was the storm. It had to be, because Jason felt he could decimate the world if he felt Nico's lips on his a second longer or if he pulled away.

Nico pulls back a few inches, breathing hard and his face is grimy from the battle.

"You're wearing glasses." Is the first thing he says and it makes Jason smile like an idiot.

"Nice shirt." Jason says and Nico smiles wryly as Jason remembers he loves to see.

Before they can have a conversation, battle calls out to them and they are attacked.

They pull back fighting the monsters. "Where are the others?" Nico asks.

"Everyone's here, just Leo..." Jason swipes at a monster that turns to dust and looks away at the sky. The ship is falling like a fireball.

"Shit." Nico says. "He'll survive, but just in case— for Leo!"

"For Leo!" Jason says and they find themselves fighting back to back against Gaia's army (this art has my heart already). And Jason's brain can assimilate his fight reflexes and still feel his lips tingling and Nico's taste in his mouth. At the same time that he is worried for his life and worried about his friends, Jason feels that his body is going to explode with happiness. The insane mixture of complex and intense feelings mixing like cosmic dust in a nebula getting so absurdly dense that it needs to become a star.

"Nico!" They listen and turn around. Will from cabin 7 is coming over there. He says something to Nico that Jason can't hear but Nico looks worried.

Nico nods to Will and turns to Jason. "I have to go." Jason is confused but nods. Nico pulls Jason down by his shirt and presses their lips together hard and fast. "Don't die." He says simply and Jason can't come up with anything smart enough to answer other than a simple,

"Yes sir."

Nico must have thought Jason is silly as usual, because he smiled and ran off in his red palm tree shirt.

The rest of the battle takes place as in the book. Octavian dies, Leo "dies". After it ends they are talking and Hazel tells them about Leo's plan. And Nico stay with Hazel that night because she's feeling guilty.

The next morning Jason shows up at Nico's door with his glasses crooked and messy hair, and here Nico reaches out and fixes his glasses. It's Nico's POV and he notices that Jason is clearly embarrassed and not knowing what to do.

"Hazel is still sleeping, can we go for a walk?" Jason nods and they walk off together slowly.

Jason asks how Nico felt about Leo's death and Nico says he felt as if he had died, but that he's not sure now. He feels that Leo did take the cure. Jason is all happy and goes to hug Nico but stops in the middle of the movement.

"Sorry, I don't…" he blushes and lowers his arms.

Nico frowns. "'You don't'... what?"

Jason puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. "I don't know if what happened yesterday in the battle was just because of the battle or if—"

Nico can't help but laugh a little. He looks around and there aren't many people around. It will be a while before Nico is ok with public displays of affection— other than in the middle of a battlefield, ofc.

He approaches and hugs Jason by the neck looking him in the eyes, and Jason's blue eyes, just like when Nico kissed him in the middle of the fight, now again have an intensity like lightning stirring inside his irises. Jason relaxes around Nico's arms in the same second. Nico opens his mouth to speak but hears Will calling him. He and Jason look and Will is close by with his hands on his hips.

"You can date later di Angelo. After crossing a continent and an ocean with a statue the size of a building you will stay in the infirmary at least for today." Nico huffs and rolls his eyes. "You can bring a companion." Will jokes and chuckles.

Jason pulls back a little and takes Nico's hand uncertainly, but Nico intertwines their fingers and Jason smiles a little. "I'll see if I'm needed around the Camp and talk to Chiron about quests to search for Leo, but I'll have lunch with you in the infirmary ok?" Nico nods, wanting to tell Will to get out of there because he wants to stay with Jason, help in the camp and look for Leo, he doesn't want to be stuck in an infirmary all day. Jason gives Nico a lingering kiss on the forehead that makes him close his eyes. Jason pulls back a little. "See you later." Nico nods a little lost and Jason gives one of the most charming smiles Nico has ever seen on any boy and walks away a little, but a simple kiss on the forehead caused Nico to be stuck on the ground and unable to move. Jason turns around walking backwards. "Just to know, how do you feel about surprises?"

"Public, no. Quests, no. Just you and me, yes."

Jason gives the same smile, nods and leaves. Nico stands there watching him walk away and feeling his heart melt to the floor like it's standing on quicksand.

"Hello? Do you want me to wait here all day while you daydream?" Will says reminding Nico that he was still there.

Well, Solace was annoying but maybe one more friend for Nico's friends list that now included Reyna, Hazel, Jason, maybe Percy and the others from the prophecy, wouldn't be that bad... Yeah, Nico was going to open up to accepting these people in his life. After all, he didn't regret opening up to Jason or Reyna.

Nico spends the morning and afternoon at the infirmary and Jason shows up with a chocolate brownie smuggled from the dining pavilion, and tells Nico that Chiron has approved that after the camp is fine, they all get together to make groups to search for Leo (as it should have been, honestly Riordan...). A nurse appears to bandage the werewolf injurie that Nico has and Jason sees it. Nico explains the story a little embarrassed, but Jason says.

"If you turned into half wolf then we would both be half wolves." Which makes Nico laugh, and everyone around looks at the son of Hades finding it strange to see him like that, but he ignores them.

Nico snaps his shirt collar back into place. "It's a very ugly scar."

Jason turns his head and shows where the bullet hit him. "I got this one."

Nico looks at him in disbelief and speaks quietly. "As if it doesn't make you even more cute."

Jason shakes his head, his ears a little red. "There are others, not so 'cute'." He gets more serious. "Inside and outside."

Nico understands immediately and his eyes water a little. "Inside and outside." He echoes.

Jason looks at him warily, knowing full well that Nico has literally been to hell and back, not to mention everything else. "They won't go away, never. But we can learn to live with them as best we can."

Nico nods and wipes his eyes quickly. "Do you think it's possible?"

Jason looks at him with affection and certainty. "I'm sure."

At night Jason shows up to pick up Nico with a mischievous smile.

"Should I be scared?" Nico asks walking beside Jason but doesn't have the courage to take his hand with so many people walking around the camp, and Jason notices and doesn't try anything.

"You'll like it, I'm sure."

They reach cabin 1 and go to the back, where there is no one around. Jason approaches and his eyes seem to glow in the dark, the air suddenly feels heavy for Nico with Jason's close proximity.

"May I?" Jason asks quietly and puts his hands close to Nico's waist but doesn't touch him. Nico nods, focused on the eyes next to him watching him as if they can see his soul. In the next second Nico feels Jason's hands gripping his waist and his feet floating off the floor. Nico for a second thinks it's in his head because that's how he feels, but then he notices they're actually flying slowly and he gasps and wraps his arms around Jason's neck and feels Jason chuckle. "I got you." Jason says and gives Nico a kiss on the head.

They reach the ceiling and Nico feels Jason release him carefully. "We're here." Nico let go of him and look around. On the roof of the cabin there is a blue towel, some candles and some bowls with food. In front of the towel is a telescope.

"What...?" Nico tries to say.

Jason takes his hand and begins to guide him to the towel. "Remember that at Camp Jupiter you said you liked to see the stars and I took you to the field of Mars at night to show off teaching you the names of stars and constellations?"

Nico chuckles. "I'm surprised you remember."

They stop in front of the telescope. "While we were building the ship I remembered that day, and it was that memory that made me think we were dating, because I got confused with what was a memory and what was my imagination." Nico looks at him confused and Jason blushes a little, and intertwines his fingers with Nico's. "That was the day I realized I like you. And I realized that because as much as i love to look at the starts, I wanted to spend the whole night looking at you." Jason gets closer and runs a finger caressing Nico's cheek near his eyes, making his breath quicken. "Because they are my favorite night sky." Jason kisses Nico's eye lightly and Nico's brain feels numb. Jason pulls back just a little and with difficulty Nico opens his eyes and tries to focus again. “That's why I got this telescope for you. I wasn't sure who you were, or if I'd ever meet you again, if we were really together, or if you felt the same way about me. But I knew I wanted to show you all the stars you wanted to see."

Nico couldn't wait any longer, and kissed Jason with the calm that their first kiss didn't have. The calm of knowing everything was fine now, and they could finally be each other's without fear, without rushing, without anything but them. But even calmly, with every second, every time Jason's tongue met his with the care of feeling each other like they needed to memorize every taste, or every time Nico sighed between the kiss or felt Jason's warm breath on his cheeks, or Jason's fingers roaming up his back, over his face, into his hair, and Nico pulling Jason closer by his shirt as if it were possible to be closer—Nico's heart raced and was filled with a certainty. And that certainty made him pull away for a second from Jason, just enough to look into his eyes.

"I love you." Nico said and Jason seemed lost, looking from one of Nico's eyes to the other as if to make sure this was real and not a made-up memory. Nico held tightly to the back of his head and looked sure at his favorite morning sky that always had a calm rain that could turn into an unsettling storm at any second. "I love you Jason Grace. And I'm not sure of anything else in the world like I'm sure I love you with every cell in my body."

And Nico saw around Jason's head little blue rays crackle like pure energy, and Jason was breathing hard and unevenly. "I love you." He said it with as much certainty as he could put into his voice. "And all I want is to be in your life in the way and for as long as you want me to."

Nico could have a goddess messing with his memories, go to Tartarus and back, or go through a thousand more wars if he had to, because those words would stay in his mind as a fresh memory and let him know that whatever happens and wherever he is— he has a home to return to, and now he was this home for Jason too.

#crying real tears #thinking about rewriting TOA too #and making it be in that way of a post i made with apollo and ares being punished by zeus #and maybe make jason die.... and then they get a whole book of Nico getting him back... #maybe maybe #anyway this was fun and i like this HoO a lot more 🤭 #theres still a lot to fix in it liks leo and calypso #and a lot more but maybe if someond turn this into a long fic that is possible #i really just needed to make jasico canon here lol #jasico #nico di angelo #jason grace #rewriting heros of olympus #thunderworld #percy jackson #heros of olympus #hoo

[bbyaemond]

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of Pregnancy/Childbirth

Following the events of Cranstead Field a year ago, where Billy had almost died, he had turned his life around, him and Becky had broken up, after he had discovered she was cheating on him. He had found a new love with newcomer Charlotte Slater, who was working at the Five Oaks as a barmaid, she had gotten him a job there as well, it wasn’t much, but he was just glad his dad had stopped pulling on him for not having a job.

Charlotte and Billy had been together for ten months, and Billy still had nightmares about the day he almost died, and so he refused to drive anywhere, and so they were sometimes walking or taking the bus, but they had managed to move into a flat near the pub, away from Cranstead Field, and the nightmares had gotten better.

Recently, Charlotte was feeling ill, and Lana, Billy’s older sister had noticed, as she pulled her aside, during Charlie’s break at work, “Right, you look like you’re going to be sick, what’s happened?” She asked her, as Charlie looked at Lana, “You can’t tell Billy, he’s still worrying about money and stuff, but I’ve missed two periods.” She confided in her, as Lana looked at her, “Right, I’m gonna nip to the shop, get you a couple tests, and we’ll go from there.” She told the younger girl, who was only 23, three years younger than Billy.

True to her word, Lana returned with three pregnancy tests, as Charlie entered the toilets at the pub, as she took the tests, the wait felt like forever, until she saw the plus signs on two and the word ‘Pregnant 3+’ on the other, as she bit her lip, placing the caps on the tests, she slid them into the back pocket of her jeans, as Lana caught her eye, as Charlie nodded, signalling that she was indeed carrying Billy’s baby.

Billy looked at her when she came back behind the bar from her break, “You okay, babe?” He asked, as she nodded, serving some of the usual customers, she didn’t want to tell him yet.

After their shifts, they headed home, as she took the tests from her back pocket, as Billy had locked the front door behind them, “Okay, you’ve been acting weird since you came back from your break at work, what is it?” He asked, as she turned to face him, the three positive tests in her hand, “I’m pregnant.” She said, those two words and seeing the tests made him go still, as she looked at him.

“Pregnant? As in, we’re having a baby?” He asked her, as she nodded, “Yeah, Lana found me outside the pub, she noticed something was up and she went and got me the tests.” She said, as he looked at her, “Why didn’t you come to me? Why Lana? Why confide in my sister?” He asked, hurt covering his features, as she looked at him, “Because I was scared, you kept saying how we struggle for two of us, and that us having a baby would make things harder, and I was scared.” She admitted, as he looked at her.

“It would make things harder because we live in a one bedroom flat Char, not because of the money! I’ll pick up extra shifts at the pub, but you should have come to me when you noticed you were late.” He said, as she nodded her head.

“I know. I’m sorry, but what are we going to do?” She asked, as he looked at her, “We’re going to have a baby, I’m terrified, scared in fact, but I won’t abandon you or our baby.” He said, as she nodded her head, smiling at him softly, “We’re having a baby.” She said, as he pulled her into a kiss, before kissing her stomach, which had a small bump beginning to form.

The months flew by, with Billy and Charlie moving into a two bedroom flat, with the help of Lana and their parents. By September, they were welcoming their new arrival, a little girl, they named Alanna Jade Washington.

They had welcomed their families around, Jeff, Billy’s dad, was watching as Billy doted on his two week old daughter, and how he doted on Charlie, who was recovering from a c-section, as Alanna had been breach. “Well done, Billy. Proud of you.” He told his son, watching as a smile filled Billy’s face. He had a job. He had a girlfriend and a daughter, he’d gotten a second chance at living.

#ewan mitchell #billy washington #trigger point

[amarantine-amirite]

No Hypotheses

It all started when I got distracted sneaking out of the house.

I was on the bus and I looked out the window to see a sign outside Costco that read: WARNING - unattended bags will be taken into parking lot and detonated. Persons will be reported to law enforcement should detonation of unattended belongings result in loss of life or damage to property. I missed my stop because I couldn't stop giggling at the sign.

This is not my first time getting lost on the bus. I know better than to wait around at the bus stop if the next bus isn't gonna arrive within the next five minutes. I know to keep an eye on my watch. I know to check schedules. I know not to go too far away from the bus stop.

The next bus wouldn't pull in for another 45 minutes. The stop was right in front of this shop in Chinatown. I stuck my head in the door and discovered that the shop sells cursed stuff. They have a doll that trashes your other toys if you don't play with it, some jewelry that makes misfortune happen to you, and brandy that makes you have nightmares if you're mean to people.

I looked toward the back of the store and saw a curtain. The sign next to it read: Lethal goods - No children under the age of 18 past this point.

The clerk took one look at me and rolled her eyes. "If you're looking for gremlins, we don't sell them. Yes, even though we were featured in the movie Gremlins, we don't sell gremlins," she said, hoping she wouldn't have to deal with yet another dumb teenager who thinks movies are real. "That was a movie."

"Well, good to know, but that's not why I'm here." I chucked, "I have a bunch of people on my shit list, and I need something to seriously teach them a lesson." I noticed the clerk's name tag read: MaryBeth.

MaryBeth seemed intrigued. She pulled out a set of silver cufflinks with blue enamel studs. "Well, we have these cufflinks," she said, "These will guarantee every pigeon in town will use you for target practice."

My eyes widened. "That'd be perfect for Virginia," I know you don't get cufflinks for a girl, but she can pull it off. Besides, Virginia seriously pissed me off.

At the end of last year, she approached me, demanding that I share my swimming goggles. I clutched them to my chest, visibly overwhelmed, and told her to back off. A teacher overheard the commotion, stepped in, and insisted I give her the swimming goggles. The teacher said, "She lost hers and just wanted to borrow them to find hers."

I gave Virginia the goggles, but I never got them back. I didn't find out she stole them until I spotted her using my goggles the following day. She pretended that she lost mine and bought new ones. She had at least three different stories of how that happened, none of which were believable. In the end, I had to buy new ones.

I felt my phone vibrate. I saw a text from Dad. "Hey, are you at that weird store in Chinatown that sells cursed stuff?" he asked.

It surprised me that Dad heard of this place. "Um, yes," I texted back. I couldn't figure out why he didn't demand I leave.

He replied instantaneously. "Can you see if they have any cursed wedding bands for men that look like this? We need it for your sister's wedding". Next to the message was an image of a man's wedding band that looked like two gilded blades of grass.

I recognized the design. My sister Mairead was getting married because her boyfriend Rand would die in exactly three months. I helped her purchase rings for both her and her fiance.

Our parents thought it was stupid of her to marry Rand when he was going to die in three months. "It's like buying a Ferrari that you're only going to drive once," they'd tell her. She never listened. She was in love with this guy.

They tried to split them up. They tried. Nothing worked. All they could do now was do something to stop the wedding.

I purchased the cufflinks and left. On the bus ride home, Dad texted me again, asking for the phone number of the store that sold cursed items. He told me that if I gave him the number, both he and Mom would look the other way at me sneaking out of the house. I gave him the number, which turned out to be a stupid stupid decision.

The wedding went ahead as planned. Mairead walked down the aisle to the song "Foolish Games" by Jewel. I have no idea why she picked that song because that is totally not a wedding song.

I thought they had laid off and just let her marry the guy. Their arguments never made sense and seemed cold-hearted. I hoped they had accepted that no wedding is a waste of money if you're marrying the person you love.

That is, of course, until after Rand put his ring on. Somebody said under his breath, "But all of them have been deceived, for another ring was made."

At first, everybody thought it was some joker in a hobbit costume who thought it would be funny to crash the wedding and quote Lord of the Rings. They looked around, but we failed to see any idiots cosplaying as hobbits. Then we thought it was probably a stupid kid who thought it would be funny to quote Lord of the Rings during the ceremony. That seemed more believable.

I felt myself die inside. I was the only one who knew the truth. That's no kid, I thought to myself, that is my dad.

After I gave Dad the phone number for the store that sold the cursed stuff, he called them and ordered that ring that would kill the person wearing it. The ring Rand had been given wasn't the one Mairead and I picked out. It was the dupe he bought at the cursed store. The curse on the ring would kill Rand within the hour. Once Rand put it on, he only had one hour left to live.

Neither Rand nor Mairead had any idea. They still said I do. The minister still pronounced them husband and wife. Rand still kissed his bride.

We took the bus to EndZone Sports Bar for the reception. The curse kicked in 30 minutes after the ceremony. The bus driver kicked everybody off the bus because Rand threw up. It took the bus driver 15 minutes to get Rand off the bus. In those 15 minutes, Rand couldn't move, couldn't even breathe, and eventually died.

The bus stopped halfway between the chapel and the restaurant. People gathered around as the driver changed the banner to read: call 911 emergency alert police. The people in the area had no idea what happened but suspected there was a story. The emergency was Rand dying on the bus.

Even though we were nowhere near the ocean, Rand's autopsy report listed his cause of death as cone shell poisoning. Nobody suspected any foul play.

#writing #writers #writers on tumblr #short story #short fiction #Find the writers

[ptsd-phoenix]

January 19th 2024, Part 2

After lunch had went so well I made my way to the bus stop to go home. The bus stop is a very triggering location because I have a lot of memories of bad things happening near or at that particular bus stop. Chances of my abuser being there are also higher than in other places. (I'd say the same odds as him appearing at the lunch location). I approached bravely while using my anxiety ring and telling myself encouraging statements. I was hyping myself up and also preparing for potentially seeing him. He was not there but I was gonna have to wait for the bus for about 10 minutes.

The bus stop is in a location where you are kind of cornered so waiting there was giving me anxiety. I wasn't petrified or anything and I just used my anxiety ring more as well as looking at the buttons on my backpack which have cute images on them. Then as I looked down the street, about a hundred or so meters away, I saw a figure who was pretty much blocked out of my vision by a lantern except for one arm and leg. Even with my blocked vision I recognized him immediately from the posture and way of walking. I also identified the jacket from when I had seen him last. He was approaching in my direction. I didn't feel afraid, I was more so concerned on how the situation would proceed. I kept an eye on him until his face was no longer blocked by the lantern. I was not planning to make eye contact. I could see he was looking in my direction. He went to cross the street to the other side of the road and I could see in my peripheral vision that his face kept fixated on me to the point his head was very much turning in my direction for the sole reason of looking at me. (Because there is nothing else he could be looking at behind me) He was walking away from me and I just pretended to be occupied with something as if I hadn't noticed him at all. I was fidgeting with my anxiety ring and counting the little balls on it. I peeked back at him to see if he had stopped looking and he had stopped staring at me and kept moving away from me out of view. I was a bit on edge being worried if he was going to approach me from the other direction but it didn't happen and then my bus arrived.

Being on the bus was easier because I had the knowledge of where my abuser was at and I knew he wouldn't be fast enough to be at the upcoming bus stops. I still felt quite trapped being in a public vehicle with no ways to escape besides when the bus stops. I also managed to somehow forget how the bus system works with me having to press a button to let the bus driver know I want to get out at the next stop. I was listening in on a conversation the two kids in front of me were having so I was pretty distracted during the ride and didn't get to feel too nervous.

The fact my abuser was approaching in my direction when I was cornered, while he was actively looking at me, yet went the other way, is exactly why I value exposure so much. It proves to my brain that he is not dangerous in public settings with other people around. I have two situations now where I was in public all alone by myself (there was other people but nobody accompanying me) where all opportunity was there to approach me, but he did not. Knowing that he doesn't approach me when seeing me is such valuable information.

#phoenix posts non poetry #phoenix healing progress

[andydrysdalerogers]

Sideline Love ~ Chapter 9 ~ Her Worst Mistake

Pairings - NFL! Chris Evans and OFC Rebecca Rooney

Series Summary: All football player Chris wants is to play football with his best friends in the NFL. But the night before he meets someone who could change his life... if she wasn't the bosses daughter. Can Chris change her mind with a little sideline love?

Word Count: 2.7K

General Warnings: smut! angst, cheating, parental interference, fluff, football Chris has beard ( 😏 ), injuries during the game, special appearance (don't @ me lol)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Becca Rooney and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

I am trying out a taglist. Please let me know if you would like to be included.

(I'm also really sorry for this chapter)

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Ice Cream

It could be considered the perfect food.

At least in Charlie’s eyes.

Ice cream makes everything better.  Losses are better, wins are better, life is just better when there is ice cream involved.

And Chris knows this.

So, the after the game sundaes were born.  The day after a game, win or lose, away or at home, Chris took Charlie for ice cream.  Becca was allowed to tag along, most of the time.  But this was the Chris and Charlie time and who was Becca to interfere with that.

“Chris, what is the best ice cream?”

“Only one?”

“Yep.”

“Ok, let me think.”  Chris pretended to ponder the question.  “Cookies and Crème.”

Charlie lit up with a smile. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?”

“That’s my favorite too because it has Oreos in it.”

“That’s why I love it too.”

Yes, the bond between Chris and Charlie was unbreakable.  Becca and Chris started to spend more time together, Chris mostly coming to Becca’s to make it easier on her. Dodger had his own bed in her house, right at the foot of Charlie’s.  The pup was protecting of the little blonde, following her everywhere, out to the bus stop that took her and waiting for her every afternoon in the same stop when she got back.  Chris and Becca had a routine.  Chris would come over after practice, watch Charlie for Becca until she was home from the stadium.  He would start dinner; she would clean up and get Charlie ready for bed.  Their domestic life was bliss.

It didn’t stop the few close calls. Like when Rick and Avery stopped by unannounced.  It was lucky that Sebastian and Lizzy had been there for dinner.  It looks very innocent. At least till Chris “went home��� for the evening and came back half hour later.

“Jesus that was close,” he said as he pinned Becca to the door of her bedroom.

“And you wanted to start this earlier, remember?” She worked on getting his belt off.

“I can’t help it Angel. This dress does things to me.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

“But my favorite look is when it’s on the floor.”  He peeled her emerald-green shirt dress over her head, leaving her in her nude lingerie set.  “Oh fuck me.”

“That is the plan,” Becca smirked.

Chris growled. “Don’t be a tease, Angel.” He lifted her up and tossed her into the bed. He pulled his shirt off and Becca drooled, seeing his tattoos were one of her weaknesses and he knew it. He started to kiss the inside of her thighs, listening to her whine. “You are gonna wake Charlie.”

“She can sleep through a game, she’ll sleep through this,” Becca gasp as Chris meets the apex of her thighs.

“Good to know.” He thrusted his tongue in her hard, and she squealed. 

“Chris, baby, please stop.”

“Nope, not gonna happen Angel.  I need you.”

He took her, a few times, to heaven and back that night. It had been the most intense night of their lives.

The universe has a funny way of making everything great… before fucking it up.

*~**~*

Rebecca arrived at Robert’s office.  He had asked her to come by as Tom had asked for a settlement agreement.  She was hopeful.  She didn’t want Tom to have joint custody, but she was ok with a strict visitation schedule.  As she was escorted to the conference room, she received a message.

C: Don’t give into him Angel.  He’s the bad guy here

B: I know love. I wish you were here.

C: Me too.  But after I will take my girls for pizza.

B: Sounds good.

Becca put her phone away as she made it to the room.  She saw Tom’s smug face and tried not to scoff.  The man had the most punch-able face on record.  She understood where Chris was coming from that his team didn’t like him. “I’m here, what is it?”

“I want to negotiate visitation.” Tom crossed his arms as if he already won.

“Finally, something mature from your mouth.” Becca sat next to Robert.  “What do you want?”

“I want Charlotte to come two weekends a month to Boston and for three weeks in the summer.”

“Not going to happen.  She doesn’t know you. You’re a stranger to her. You can come once a month to Pittsburgh for supervised visits until she gets to know you and then we can talk about more time.”

“Can I have the room with Rebecca please?” Tom looked at his own lawyer and then at Robert.  Robert looked at Becca, who nodded.  Tom leaned back in his chair, taking in Becca, waiting for the room to clear.  No longer the innocent 18-year-old from five years ago, now a business woman, she was beautiful.  “You know Becca, you have to be more beautiful than when we met.”

“According to you, we never met.”

“Rebecca, c’mon I thought we were past this.”

“You are past it. I didn’t want you to step away from your family.  I just wanted you to acknowledge the daughter that you had.  Now you want to take her away from me.”

“I don’t want too, Becca.  I want to share.  She is half of me.”

“She is none of you.  You didn’t want her. You didn’t want me. Tom, tell me what you really want.”

“I want us to be a family.  Have you help me raise my sons as well.”

“No.  Never going to happen.”

“Because you are in love with Evans?”

“What?”

Tom pulled out an envelope and removed sheets of paper. “I can show you what I mean.”  He handed the papers to her.

Tears formed in Becca’s eyes. “What do you want me to do?”

“Leave him.  Leave him and come back to me.  Not right away of course but yeah.  You do that, I won’t release these.  Your father has made it perfectly clear: no football players.  Leave him and I won’t release these photos. You leave and you won’t ruin his career. Because I know that’s what you’re thinking. Can’t ruin mine but his, his is still up in the air. Think about it.  You can keep these, I have copies.”

“This has nothing to do with custody.”

“Oh I know. But since I couldn’t figure out a way to see you without raising suspicion, this was my only way.  I’ll see you in court about custody.  But I have a feeling that somehow, that’s still going to go my way.  Have a nice day Rebecca.”  He got up and put his sunglasses on, smiled at her and left.

Becca sat in the room stunned.  Robert came back in.  “Hey?”

“Hi.”

“Becca, what happened?”

Becca handed the photos over.  They were of Chris and her in New Orleans. Kissing, holding hands, embracing.  Their most intimate moment, where they had declared their love was on display. “He threatened to release them.”

“Becca…”

“I need to talk to Chris.  We didn’t settle on custody.”  Becca got up and left the room. She drove home, trying to keep her emotions in. While she had no intention of being with Tom ever again, she couldn’t ruin Chris’s career. The love she had for him was too much for him to lose his dream. She saw the blue Mustang in the driveway and groaned. She had to face this head on.

Walking in, she saw a heartbreaking site: Chris asleep on the couch with Charlie on his chest.  She took a photo and went into to get cleaned up.  She wiped the stray tear that fell before she went back out.  She picked up Charlie and took her to her room to sleep.  When she went back out, Chris was sitting up, looking confused, hair sticking up.  He smiled when he saw her.  “Hey Angel. Just get in?”

“Yeah, meeting ran long. You guys eat?”

“Chinese.  Saved some for you.”

“Thanks.”  Becca went into the kitchen, stalling.  Chris could see the tension in her shoulders.

“Angel, what wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Becca, you are tense, and you look like you’ve been crying.  What’s wrong? Did something happen at the meeting?”

Becca took a breath. “Tom didn’t want to negotiate custody or visitation.” She went to her bag.  “There are photos, Chris.  Of you and me, when we were in New Orleans.”

“What?” She handed him the photos. “He followed us?”

“I think it was a PI but yeah. Umm…” she could feel the tears coming.  “He said that if we didn’t break up that he would release the photos.”

“That fucking tool.” Chris was seething. How dare this asshole try and ruin his relationship with Becca. “Ok, well I mean if it happens, it happens.”

“Chris,” she whispered.  “I can’t let that happen.” She looked towards the floor.  “I think its best if we separate.”

“What?”

“I love you and I’m sorry but I can’t let you ruin your career over my mistakes.”

“You don’t mean that Angel. You and Charlie mean more to me than football.”

“I’m sorry. But I can’t ruin your dream.”

Chris put his hands around her face, cupping that.  “Please don’t leave me. I love you. I won’t stop loving you. Please.” He kissed her soft and she let the tears flow.

“I have too, Chris. I’m so sorry,” she cried. “I love you. I love you so much that this is killing me.”

Chris held Becca as they cried. “Let me stay Angel.  Just one more night. Please.”

She looked up at him and pulled him down for a kiss. He reaches down and grasped under her ass to lift her and took her to her bedroom. He laid her down gently, kissing all of the skin he could at the moment, savoring this last time. They were slow, taking their time to get each article of clothing off. There was no teasing, just pleasure, enjoying each touch, each kiss. Chris brought Becca to the brink so many times, she lost count.  She cried as she reaches her peak the last time with Chris closely following.  She fell asleep in his arms, her favorite place in the whole world.

Becca wakes in the morning on Chris’s chest.  She traces his tattoos, knowing that this is the last time. “I don’t want to go,” he whispers.

“I know.” They get up and Chris grabs his stuff. Dodger had stayed at his house so that at least was lucky. Chris grabs his bag.  Its still early, the sun barely rising in Pittsburgh. Becca doesn’t bother stopping the tears.

“You know I love you.  I’m just…”

“Just protecting me.  I know Angel. I wish you didn’t.” He puts his bag down by the door. “I have to ask. Please don’t take Charlie away from me.   Please let me see her.  I don’t want to be another man that disappoints her.  I need you both but if you won’t let me have you then at least let me be there for Charlie.”

The man of her dreams.  That’s what he is.  While she was breaking his heart, he refused to break Charlie’s. “Ok Chris, sure.  I’ll have Liz or Scarlet take her to you, ok?”

“I’ll win you back Angel. I’ll find a way.” He pulled her in for one last kiss.  “I love you.”

“I love you.”

And just like that, Chris Evans walked out of her life.

And she knew, this was her worst mistake.

*~**~*

There are certain rivalries in sports that are legendary.  Lakers verses Celtics. Yankees verses Red Sox. Cowboys verses Giants. And then there is the Steelers and the Patriots. Because when both teams have the same number of championships, the tension is at another level.

This is football at its finest.

Chris should be excited.  He should be nervous. He should be ready.

Chris is none of those things.

He’s heartbroken.

Sitting in the visiting locker room at Gillette Stadium, he looks at the picture of Becca and Charlie he still has in his bag.  It was from their first visit to his house.  He had seen Charlie a couple of times, but Becca made sure not to be around. He kissed her picture and put it back in his bag.  Since the team had no idea they were together, they had no reason to suspect why Chris was down.

The game ran like any other game: physical and intense.  But Chris’s heart wasn’t into it.  He called plays and ran them but was not focused.  He was sacked a record six times in the first half.  Coach Ben was on him, yelling at him to get his head in the game.

Heading into the second half, the Steelers were up by two touchdowns.  A miracle considering how bad Chris was playing.  Becca watched from the owner’s box, understanding that this was her fault.  She was just happy that Charlie was at home with her mother.  The Steelers offence took to the field as her father came to speak to her.  “Do you know what is going on with Evans?”

“No clue.” She never looked away from him.

Chris called the play, and the ball was hiked to him.  He drops back, looking for his open man.  He doesn’t see it when the defense breaks through the line.  Chris is tackled into the ground hard.

Becca stand up and sees that he doesn’t move.  “Oh my God.”  She and Rick turn to run down to the field.

Medical is called and the players are standing around him, Sebastian trying to wake him.  “Chris, c’mon man, open your eyes.”  The medics place a brace around his neck and get him on the board.  A jolt wakes Chris.

“Sebastian?”

“Oh, thank fuck.” Sebastian lowers his head.

“What happened?”

The team doctors look into his eyes.  “Chris, can you move your fingers?”  He wiggles them.  “Ok, try your feet.”  He moves them as well.  “That’s good Chris.  We’re going to take you to the medical center.”  They lift him by the back board, and he waves his hand, getting a cheer from the crowd.

At Boston Memorial, he goes through scans and x-rays.  The doctors come out to talk to Ben, Rick and Becca.  “He has a concussion. Its mild and he’ll be sore but per protocol, he’s not allowed to play until he passes the concussion protocol test.  He’s very lucky.”

“Can we see him?” Ben asked.

“Sure.  Does he have family?”

“His family is coming.  We sent a car to get them from the stadium,” Becca replies.

“Good.  If you would like to see him, he’s in room 2174.”

Ben and Rick go into the room with Becca sitting outside waiting for his family.  His mother Lisa and his brother Scott arrive, and Becca gives them the rundown.  “He has a concussion. Luckily no other injuries just bruises.  He’ll be sore for a few days. Doctors say he’ll make a full recovery.  The league has been notified and he’s in concussion protocol.”

“Thank heavens,” Lisa says as Scott hugs her.  Ben and Rick exit and they go in.  Becca just sits.

“Becca are you coming with us?” Ben asks.

“Uh, no.  I’m going to wait for the Evans family to make sure they don’t need anything, and I’ll fly separately. How did the team do?”

“They lost in overtime.” Ben looks to the floor.

Rick could see the emotions flowing on Becca’s face.  “Sweetheart, if you need help with anything…”

“Just check on Charlie, ok?  I know she watched the game and I know she’s crushed that he got hurt so just take care of her.  I’ll make the arrangements here and if they allow him to go home, I’ll take care of it as well.  This is my job Dad, not me being anything else.”

Rick nodded.  He hugged his daughter and left with Ben.  Becca sat again and drew her knees to her chest.  When Scott came out, he saw her and sat next to her. “You’re the one, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“He still loves you.”

“I know. This is my fault.”

“No, its not.”

“Yes, it is.  I broke him and look what happened.”

“So unbreak him.”

“I can’t.” She wipes away the tears from her face.

“Why not?”

“Because it would take away his dream.”

Scott puts his arm around Becca. “I think his dream changed Becca.  His dream is you now.” She looked at him.  “All he talks about is you. Not football.”

“I don’t know what to do Scott.”

“Let love win.”

A few hours later, Becca sneaks into Chris’s room.  He looks at him peacefully asleep and she takes his hand. She kisses his forehead softly and whispers. “I promise Chris, I’ll fix this.  Don’t give up on me. Everything is going to be ok.”

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