#Even if we're separated we're still friends-IC | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dazzlingjaeyun · 4 months ago

Text

𝐢𝐜𝐞-𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

figure skater!sunghoon x fem!reader

୨୧ genre: brother's rival, mostly angst & some fluff | words: 13k | cw: poor figure skating references cause i have no clue lol, slow burn (sort of), insecurities, mentions of injuries, skinship, curse words ୨୧

hanna says: the names of the other characters in the story do not refer to any idols or irl people, i just needed names lol

────────────────────

there was something about park sunghoon that had you keeping your eyes on him throughout the entirety of his practice. maybe it was the fact that he was insanely good at what he was doing, or because he was insanely good-looking.

in fact, you'd been admiring him for quite some time – which you would never, ever, admit. cause what the hell would you tell your brother?

you remembered his reaction when you had told him you had a crush on his best friend – a silly prank you were forced to pull on him during a round of truth or dare at a party. you preferred to not find out how he'd react if you told him the same about the guy he called his rival. especially if it was not a prank this time.

to be fair, you found their entire 'rivalry' a bit childish, knowing that it was solely based on sunghoon always snatching the gold medal from your brother by scoring just a few points more.

however, paying close attention to the way he slid over the ice with such smoothness, making even the most difficult moves look effortless, you understood why he always left your brother in the second place.

"ready to lose on saturday?" his mocking voice echoed through the big hall, reminding you of the reason you were here in the first place. the first competition after your long break of figure skating. the thought of it made you equally excited and nervous. you'd had a long time to practice, but could you really go back to how good you used to be after all that had happened?

although thoughts and doubts started clouding your mind, his question made you wonder; why would he care if you lost, you weren't competing against him, after all.

"i know me and my brother look alike, but we're not that similar," you tried to sound tough, but only realized how awkward the words came out after they already had.

you mentally cursed yourself when you saw the right corner of his lip curl up into a smile that mirrored the sneering tone of his question before. he came to a halt in front of you, only the railing, on which he rested his arms, separating you. he leaned forward just a little. "right, you're better," he replied with an undefinable expression and a short chuckle, which made you question if his words were meant to be sarcastic or genuine.

although you usually admired him for the confidence he radiated, now, you may as well say you hated it – hated how small it made you feel, especially when he was so close and towered over you by a good couple of centimeters.

his dark orbs found yours, keeping steady eye contact for a painfully long moment. you didn't want to give in, not willing to give him the satisfaction of backing down, although on the inside, everything screamed at you to look away. the corners of sunghoon's eyes crinkled slightly as his lips, once again, curled up into that mischievous smile.

he was aware of the discomfort that was building up behind your seemingly strong demeanor, you were sure of that. and he found it amusing. no wonder your brother couldn't stand him.

sunghoon pushed himself up from the railing, straightening his posture. "is your partner gonna come, or..." he asked, after looking around the hall.

"yeah, he said he'll be late by five minutes," you replied, hoping that the announcement of jisung's arrival would make sunghoon pack his bags and leave the ice rink for the rest of the day. but when he didn't seem to move, you quickly added "coach reserved the rink for us so–"

"do you still skate with him, by the way?" sunghoon interrupted, not seeming to care about leaving.

knowing exactly what he was aiming at, you narrowed your eyes a bit, crossing your arms in front of your chest. "yes," you replied shortly and sternly, hoping he'd take the hint and not dig deeper.

sunghoon, however, raised an eyebrow and looked at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "seriously? after all that happened?"

you should have known he wouldn't drop the topic, yet it made your stomach slowly burn with anger. why did he have to talk about it now? so shortly before the competition, and after you had put so much hard work into regaining not only your abilities, but most importantly the trust you had always blindly put in jisung.

"it's none of your business, park," you snapped.

"he's the reason you almost lost your dream, y/n," sunghoon replied dryly, clearly not affected by the sudden change in your demeanor, "it's almost a miracle you're here now."

as if on autopilot, your brain replayed the day you had tried so hard to shove to the back of your mind – to forget. the day you were so close to chasing your dreams, so close to winning the most important competition up to that point in your life. the day not only the win slipped away, but your entire career was too close to do the same. you knew sunghoon was right, it was a miracle you were here. that you were even standing.

"you know," sunghoon's voice snapped you back to reality, "i would have never dropped you," he said – loud enough for jisung, who had just come in, to hear too. sunghoon finally left the ice, changing to his sneakers and shooting the other boy a glance with an emotion you couldn't quite make out, before he walked off.

your eyes followed him until he was out of sight – your mind still tangled in the thoughts of your body crashing down on the ice heavily, leaving you with a broken leg and several fractures along your spine.

"hey, are you okay?" jisung asked once he was close enough to you. he knew exactly what was wrong, his guilt still fresh despite the months that had passed since the day he hadn't paid enough attention – the day that he had accidentally let go of you, responsible for your heavy injuries that suspended you from ice skating for several months.

when you didn't react, he tried again, "i–... i practiced a lot, i improved! you know that, we've been practicing together the past weeks, we've been fine, you–... you'll be fine. i won't let anything happen to you another time!" he blurted out. his effort in trying to reassure you, however, stayed unsuccessful.

you wordlessly changed from your sneakers to your ice skates, your mind still captured by sunghoon's words.

throughout the entire practice, you couldn't shake the thoughts off. it made you lose focus, made your movements sloppy – too slow, too fast, too incorrect. you felt the pressure inside of you building up more and more with each piece of guidance your coach gave, her voice growing more frustrated with each word.

it was just practice, there was nothing that could happen now, you tried to remind yourself.

but when jisung's arms wrapped around your waist to help with the lift, and your legs left the ground, your heart pounded violently in your chest. blood rushed in your ears as your body tensed up completely – every muscle inside of you froze, and jisung noticed immediately, forcing himself to stop.

he tightened his grip around your waist and carefully lowered you back onto the ice before you could drop. your legs wobbled slightly as they touched down again, and you tried to regain control. you closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, desperate to calm the storm inside of you and keep the tears from welling up. you couldn't afford to break down now.

your breath hitched when you felt his hand on your shoulder. you hadn't realized jisung had let go of your waist, or how he was now standing in front of you, concern written all over his face.

"are you okay?" he asked softly, but before you could answer, the coach's voice cut through the air.

"take a break, guys!" she called out, clearly frustrated, her eyes lingering on you. you could feel her gaze heavy with expectation and disappointment, and the pressure inside of you only grew bigger.

you exhaled sharply, slid across the ice until you reached the exit, and sat down on a bench. you knew you had to get yourself together, you knew you had only another week. and while a gold medal was for sure out of reach at your first competition after your long hiatus, you didn't want to make a fool of yourself either.

jisung stayed on the ice, his face slowly dropping as he saw you sitting on the bench, looking so vulnerable, so fragile. he sighed softly, before slowly approaching you.

"can i sit?", he asked and sat down once he saw you nodding. "y/n, i know we had... we had our problems," he fiddled with his hands, "and if you cannot find trust in me again, i can totally understand that... we can still cancel the competition," he said, his voice soft and careful, as if he was making sure to not jump to conclusions too quickly.

for the first time since you had sat down, you raised your head to look at him. "it's just..." you looked down again, feeling almost too embarrassing to face him, "it's all going so fast, jisung. and i'm still so insecure," the volume of your voice decreased with each word.

you felt his warm hand on yours, his thumb stroking against your skin a few times, before he gave your hand a gentle, yet reassuring squeeze. "we have almost a week," he said calmly, "we still have time to practice and we'll find our rhythm again, okay?"

when you looked up at him again, you saw a soft smile on his lips. you nodded slowly, stood up, and headed back to the ice.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

throughout the week, you found yourself at the ice rink more often than not, spending hours and hours practicing with jisung – until both of you were so exhausted that you physically couldn't do more. with each time, the two of you grew more confident.

"okay, you're good for today," you hear your coach announcing after going through the choreography uncountable times. you exhaled, relieved that you could finally finish practice for that day. as you were catching your breath, you looked at your coach with anticipation, waiting for her feedback.

"you're both improving," she began. a small weight lifted from your shoulders. she didn’t sound particularly impressed, but after years of practice under her guidance, you were familiar with her indifferent tone. praise from her was rare; she often said she didn't want to let it get to your head. "however," she looked at you, "you're still not confident, y/n. and it shows a lot. you have to trust jisung if you don't want to fail on saturday."

you just nodded, not able to object. she was right after all. you would have loved to say you trusted him fully again - but whenever he had to hold you, you'd tense, your breath getting stuck in your throat.

"jisung, you're free to go. y/n, you stay. change your shoes and wait on the side," she announced. you could feel jisung next to you shooting you a quick look before he looked back at the coach, and the two of you nodded in synch.

you took a moment to sit and reflect on the feedback, replaying it in your mind. when you finally decided to change your shoes, jisung approached you, already changed and with his bag slung over his shoulder.

"are you okay?" he asked, his voice low. it was like you could hear the apologetic look he had in his eyes, even without meeting his gaze. you nodded again. "i'm sorry," you mumbled, "i'll get myself together before the weekend."

jisung flashed a sad smile, taking your hands in his and pulling you up from the bench until you were standing in front of him, only to pull you into a short but tight hug. you reciprocated his action, softly clinging onto his shirt even when he wanted to let go. "stay," you whispered against his chest.

hugging him felt natural. the two of you had been close before your injury, you had always gotten along – it was sort of a must since you were spending all your afternoons together. his embrace was comforting, especially with all the pressure weighing on you.

when you finally pulled away, you almost overlooked the faint pink tint on jisung's cheeks. he glanced down at you and cleared his throat. "do you need a ride? i can wait for you outside," he offered, but you shook your head. "who knows how long she's going to keep me here," you replied, keeping your voice low enough so your coach couldn't hear. jisung chuckled slightly and nodded. "fine, but don't go alone if it's getting late. you can call me."

"i'll ask hyuk, don't worry," you smiled, before waving to him to signal him that it was okay to leave. he turned around and left, not without turning back and giving you another quick, reassuring smile, as if he wanted to tell you to not worry for what was still to come this evening.

"haeun and sunghoon are coming to practice," your coach stated as she approached you, "they're very good. i want you to watch them. understand their chemistry and the trust they have in each other," she requested, and you responded with an eager nod. "i want you to put that into your next practice with jisung."

as if on cue, you heard two voices coming closer. you couldn't quite understand what haeun and sunghoon were talking about, but from their faces you understood that their conversation must have been carefree. they were exchanging smiles and laughter, and you started wondering if you had ever seen sunghoon genuinely smile before.

"are you going to leave or…" sunghoon's voice interrupted your thoughts. you furrowed your brows. "couldn't have phrased it nicer," you mumbled more to yourself than to him.

before sunghoon could reply, your coach chimed in, "i told y/n to watch your practice to learn from you. take it as a compliment and don't disappoint her, i spoke highly of you."

"but..." haeun crossed her arms in front of her chest, "isn't she going to be at advantage on saturday? i mean, she'll know our moves and everything."

now, what sunghoon had said a few days ago suddenly made perfect sense. he had asked you if you were ready to lose because you were, in fact, competing against him. a flutter of unease settled in your stomach. both haeun and sunghoon were extremely good, they were usually at the top in their solo performances, so them competing together in pair skating made perfect sense. but that also meant you'd face a greater challenge; competing against them meant your insecurities and mistakes would stand out even more against their flawless performance.

"don't worry," sunghoon replied to haeun, but his gaze was fixed on you. "her injury set her back months – physically and mentally. she can't compare to us."

you bit your inner cheek to not snap a harsh comment back at him.

the sharp sound of blades cutting into the ice filled the air as they started their routine. as you watched them practice, it became increasingly clear that sunghoon was right. you understood not only their chemistry and trust, you mostly understood how far behind you were – that you'd stand no chance against them.

their practice went on for what felt like forever, and the more time passed, the more your mood dropped. for an outsider, it would have been pure bliss to watch them, but for you it felt like torture – like you were forced to watch them, not for inspiration as to what you could be, but as an reminder of everything you were not.

you had to admit you were jealous. you wished you were able to put the same trust in jisung that haeun seemed to have in sunghoon, and if you were honest, you didn't know what was holding you back. your accident had been so long ago and you could tell that jisung was way more stable now. ever since you'd started again, he hadn't given you a single reason to be worried. and yet, you couldn't trust him, even though you wanted to so bad.

your disappointment began to intertwine with a rising sense of guilt as you recalled the way jisung’s expression would shift whenever he sensed your worries. and the way he'd still apologize, even after so many months, seemingly never really getting over the fact that you'd almost had to end your career, just because his attention had slipped for a second.

"you going home or are you gonna stay here all night?" sunghoon's voice startled you.

you looked around, trying to collect your thoughts, and realizing only then that the hall had emptied except for the two of you, and your impatient-looking coach waiting to lock the doors.

"yes, i..." you started and pulled out your phone to check the time, "i'll call hyuk."

sunghoon shrugged, before making his way towards the exit. you scrolled through your call history until you found your brother's contact, quickly clicking on it as you rushed toward the door behind sunghoon, offering a brief goodbye to your coach.

the cold night air hit you with an unexpected force, and although you were wearing your jacket, your body started to shiver slightly. you wrapped your free arm around yourself, while keeping your phone close to your ear with the other, waiting for the beep-sounds to get replaced by your brother's voice.

sunghoon walked to his car, threw his bag on the backseat and sat down behind the steering wheel, starting the engine but not driving off. he looked at you, furrowing his eyebrows when you continuously lowered your phone and tapped around, only to bring it up to your ear again. he sighed, before hesitantly rolling down the window.

"you need a ride?" he asked, just loud enough for you to hear.

you immediately shook your head, to which the lines between sunghoon's eyebrows only deepened more. "your brother doesn't seem to pick up," he stated the obvious.

"no shit, sherlock," you mumbled, rolling your eyes, "i'll call jisung, you can go home."

"and wait in the cold until he's here? you're shaking," he objected, and when he realized the words sounded more worried than he had intended, he quickly added, "might as well make use of it now that i already decided to be kind for once."

you sighed, weighing the options that you had and frowned on the inside when you had to admit he was right. if it hadn't been cold and you hadn't been freezing so much, there was no way you'd set foot in his car. but you started to feel like the cold air went under your skin and you really didn't want to wait for jisung, let alone burden him by calling, so you wordlessly walked over to sunghoon's car and opened the passenger door.

he gave you a short nod, as if to confirm that you could sit down. once you were sat and had the seatbelt fastened, sunghoon fiddled around with some buttons, before pulling out of the parking lot. for the first time in hours, your muscles started to release all the tension you had been holding, when you slowly felt your seat getting warmer.

"better?" sunghoon asked, shooting you a quick glace, before focusing on the street again. you nodded and responded with a quiet "better" that almost came out as a whisper, "thanks, sunghoon."

"no need. just tell me how to get to your place," he replied dryly.

the both of you stayed silent throughout the entirety of the ride, except for the directions you gave him. it felt uncomfortable – like the awkward tension would suffocate you any second. while you were keeping your head slightly turned to look outside the window, sunghoon's eyes flashed back and forth between you and the road from time to time.

"you can just drop me off here," you announced once he took the turn into your street. he clicked his tongue "i already came all the way here, i won't die driving to the end of the street as well. besides..." he looked around, "your neighbourhood looks creepy, not gonna lie."

"whatever you say," you mumbled in response, not wanting to argue, but too proud to agree with him either.

you thanked him again once he pulled up in front of your house, double and triple checked that you didn't forget anything in his car and quickly rushed to your front door, hearing him drive off not before you had unlocked the door.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as saturday rolled around, you found yourself warming up, feeling even more tense and nervous than you had originally thought. although the last days before the competition had gone really well, you couldn't shake the thought off your mind that you might mess everything up.

jisung was standing next to you, putting one hand on your shoulder and squeezing gently. "we got this, okay? don't worry, y/n, i got you," he tried to calm you down, shoving his own nervousness to the back of his mind.

without even realizing, you softly leaned into him, finding comfort in his touch, finding stability, something to hold onto in his mere presence. that's when you thought you could do it, thought you might be able to overcome your fears and shove aside the thoughts that kept creeping up on you.

but when it was time to perform that one jump, only some minutes later, you realized you had been wrong - once again. you froze, your widened eyes searching for jisung, who nodded in approval, trying to reassure you. if this was practice, you'd stop right there and then, but this wasn't practice and you couldn't afford to just quit and run away. in the end, it was the pressure that drove you when you aimed for the jump, way too hesitantly, way too half-heartedly. you could feel jisung trying his best to compensate your lack of power, but he alone couldn't turn the tide. and so you ended your performance – without injuries, but with a huge gap between what you could have done, and what you had delivered in the end.

"it's fine," you heard him whisper while you were still in your ending pose, waiting for the judges to announce the end.

you slid wordlessly across the ice towards the exit, stepped out, and headed to the changing room. once inside, you sat down and stared at the floor, time seeming to stretch on endlessly. with a heavy sigh, you bent down, removed your ice skates, and replaced them with your shoes. pulling your hoodie over your uniform, you stayed seated, unable to stand – unprepared to face the world outside, unwilling to hear the inevitable comments.

your vision began to blur, and though you would have usually blinked the tears away, this time, you let them fall freely. you couldn’t keep bottling up your emotions. silent tears ran down your face, interrupted only by the occasional soft sob.

"y/n?" your brother’s voice startled you from the other side of the door. he knocked gently, pushing it open slightly when you didn’t respond. seeing you, he sighed and opened his arms, silently offering a hug.

without a word, you walked into his embrace, feeling his arms tighten around you as he gently stroked your back. "it’s okay, you did well," he whispered, trying to comfort you, but you only managed a muffled scoff against his chest.

"i completely messed up at the end, hyuk," you muttered, pulling away to face him. "i really thought i could do it this time, but... i want to trust jisung, i really do, but i just can't," you admitted, your voice breaking with each sob.

hyuk gently patted your head. "i know, i know… you did well up until that point. it’s okay to be scared. maybe you just need more time. don’t be so hard on yourself," he said softly.

"come on, let’s head back out. i can’t wait to see sunghoon get beaten by the other team. i’m sure they scored higher than him and haeun," he teased, making you smile despite the state you were in. you nodded in agreement, feeling just a little lighter.

as you watched them indeed take second place, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your brother’s expression. “now it’s your turn to finally beat him. if someone else can do it, so can you,” you teased, drawing a smile from him. normally, he would’ve made a jab about you not beating him either, but today he kept those thoughts to himself, simply glad to finally see you smile.

you watched as your coach approached haeun and sunghoon, congratulating them, before gesturing for sunghoon to join her on the side for another conversation. you could see his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, the smile that had been plastered on his face for getting yet another medal dropping quickly. had she complained they only made it to the second place? you hadn’t seen their performance, but you couldn’t picture sunghoon making a mistake so grave that it would cost them the win.

when his gaze met yours, a chill ran through you, and you were certain you’d be a goner if looks could kill. you quickly averted your gaze, determined to focus on anything but him, yet you could still feel his eyes practically piercing holes through your body.

“y/n,” you heard your coach call as she approached you. you turned to face her, peeking over her shoulder to see sunghoon talking to haeun, who was now standing next to him, but still glaring at you.

“after today, i think you need to start rebuilding your trust, not just in your partner, but in yourself, or you'll end up locking up every movement at some point,” she began. you nodded, fully aware that it was easier said than done.

“so, for the next few months, you'll focus solely on that. no new figures, no competitions at all. and you’ll switch partners. sunghoon will train with you until you feel comfortable again,” she announced, her voice firm and leaving no room for discussion.

your jaw dropped. out of all the people, she chose to pair you with sunghoon? your brother next to you mirrored your reaction, beginning to protest, but you tuned him out as the world around you fell silent, moving in slow motion as your gaze shifted to sunghoon again. the intensity of his glare and the clenching of his jaw spoke volumes; he wasn't thrilled about the decision either.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

when you arrived at practice the following week, you walked into the large hall with slumped shoulders. your frown deepened as you realized jisung was in fact not there. you had called him the night of the competition to share the news, even though your coach had already informed him. after all, this meant he would also be getting a new partner. you had apologized to him and the two of you had agreed to stay in touch, to not drift further apart as you'd get paired up together again after you'd overcome your struggles.

you approached your coach, who was already waiting. "y/n," she greeted you with a brief but warm smile. "if you'd like, we can go over some feedback from saturday until sunghoon arrives," she offered, and you nodded, though you knew it wasn't really a question – she probably would have done it anyway.

as she began giving feedback on your performance, you heard footsteps approaching. assuming it was sunghoon, you felt your muscles tense slightly, not quite ready to face him as your new partner.

“sunghoon,” your coach paused her feedback and turned to him. “both of you, warm up so we can begin,” she said, receiving a nod from both of you.

you started your usual routine of warm-up exercises and stretching, trying your best to ignore sunghoon and the displeased expression on his face that he didn't even bother trying to hide.

"are you ready to start?" he asked, and when you nodded, he replied dryly "good, cause i want to get this over with."

you sighed to yourself. "listen, i know you're not happy about practicing with me now. i don't want this either. but at least i'm not being a bitch about it. just cause you cannot stand my brother."

"this is not about your brother, y/n. i have to do double the work now, training with haeun and you, just cause you cannot get your shit together," he stated, his tone harsh.

you furrowed your eyebrows. his words were hurtful, but his ego was even more frustrating. "if i remember correctly, you were the one saying that jisung shouldn't be my partner anymore and that you'd never drop me," you reminded him of what he had said a couple of weeks ago.

"so? doesn't mean i want to be your partner," he responded.

"but you are for now," your coach chimed in, "so stop the bickering, both of you. you're not kids anymore. sunghoon, keep your energy for your solo practice and the one with haeun," she added firmly.

after your coach mentioned that you would go through the choreography you had prepared with jisung, both of you began without a word. admittedly, it was impressive to see how quickly sunghoon adapted to each move whenever your coach gave instructions. you knew the routine by heart, but he didn’t – and yet, he effortlessly picked up every one of your coach’s cues and executed them flawlessly.

when it was time for the first lift, a wave of uncertainty washed over you as he placed his hands on your waist. you hesitated for a moment, doubt creeping in, but his grip was firm, offering a sense of reassurance despite your uncertainty. "it will be fine," he whispered quickly, sensing your hesitation. however, as he lifted you up, your body tensed tightly, causing him to lower you back down gently.

your heart raced as you caught your breath, embarrassment flooding in. sunghoon looked at you with an unexpected sense of encouragement, a sharp contrast to his earlier coldness. "let’s try again," he said with an almost reassuring smile. this time, as he lifted you, his steady hold began to ease your nerves. he moved with precision, making sure you were balanced and secure. with each moment in the air, you felt his unwavering focus, which calmed any lingering doubts. while you still felt a hint of uncertainty, the exhilaration mixed with a sense of safety as he brought you back down gently.

feeling like you finally made a bit of progress for the first time in months, you couldn't stop a wide smile from spreading across your lips. sunghoon reciprocated your smile for a moment before returning to his nonchalant demeanor.

after a positive remark from your coach and her request to repeat the choreography, you practiced the moves over and over again. it felt as if the confidence that sunghoon radiated was enough to rub off on you as well.

after sunghoon successfully lifted you for the last move one more time, your coach called an end to your practice, and he lowered you back onto the ice. for a moment, you looked up at him with a soft smile before he slid back slightly to create a bit more space between you.

he cleared his throat. "you're already getting better," he remarked. you nodded slightly. "yes, but those were the easy ones... there's still a long way to go," you replied. he shrugged, "well, at least now you know you're not the problem, but he was."

you bit your lower lip, a sense of guilt washing over you, even though you knew his statement wasn’t entirely true. "you're very sure of yourself," you said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

"yeah, because it's the truth. in two hours, you’ve made more progress with me than with him in a week," he responded, his voice casual.

you lowered your gaze, looking at the floor as you quietly admitted, "i don't know why, but you made me feel safe today."

an odd feeling jolted through sunghoon at your words. why did you sound so vulnerable, especially in front of him? why did he suddenly feel the urge to comfort you, wanting to ensure you'd always feel safe? and, god, why was it so damn warm all of a sudden?

he cleared his throat. "just wanna get rid of you quickly," he attempted to sound nonchalant, but a soft smile slipped through.

his remark drew a chuckle from you, prompting you to look up again. it felt like his smile doubled his handsomeness, his sharp features softening, his eyes crinkling just a little at the corners.

just as you were about to say, "i'll see you tomorrow," the familiar sound of skates gliding across the ice interrupted you. haeun entered with a slight smile, ready for her practice with sunghoon. a pang of guilt hit you, knowing sunghoon still had at least four more hours of practice ahead. you gave him a short smile before you quickly turned around and made your way out, fighting the urge to turn back and sneak another glance at him.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the next days passed in a blur. after classes, you'd go straight to the ice rink, and most of the times, sunghoon would already be there.

you weren’t sure when it happened, but the usual glare he used to give you had softened into a short, yet sincere smile, and it made your heart warm. it was comforting to know he didn’t hate you after all – or at least, he didn’t act like it.

sunghoon was gentle yet firm, encouraging you to push yourself a little more each practice without making you feel too uncomfortable. he'd hold you tight enough to make you feel secure, always letting you down gently when he sensed you were too tense, and asked your coach for breaks when you needed them.

sometimes, when you'd glance around the rink, you'd catch jisung watching from the sidelines, pretending to adjust his skates or talk to your coach, but his gaze stayed fixed on you and sunghoon.

sunghoon noticed too. you could tell by the slight tightening of his grip on your waist, the subtle shift in his stance whenever jisung was around. it irritated him in a way he didn’t quite understand. maybe it was the way jisung looked at you – like he still had some sort of claim on you. sunghoon didn’t say anything about it, but he found himself skating with more purpose when jisung was there, his movements more controlled, his touches just a little more protective. he wasn’t sure why, but every time he saw jisung, something inside him tensed, like he needed to make it clear that he was your partner now.

skating with sunghoon as your partner quickly became routine, faster than you'd expected. though every practice left you utterly exhausted, there was always a pang of sadness when your coach ended the session and sent you home. you told yourself it was just guilt, knowing that sunghoon would still be there practicing with haeun or by himself long after you had already left.

you could tell the two of you had been growing more comfortable around each other, but today’s practice felt different.

sunghoon stood a few feet away, adjusting his skates, his eyes catching yours for a brief second before flicking away. you felt a nervous flutter in your chest, an unfamiliar sensation that made you hesitate for a moment before stepping onto the ice. normally, you’d just go through the motions of practice – his hand guiding yours, his steady voice offering small corrections – but today, every little touch felt different. his hand felt warmer when it grazed yours, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“ready?” he asked, his voice lower than usual, as he held his hand out to you. there was nothing strange in the gesture, yet the simple act of slipping your hand into his felt different – like you were aware of every point where your skin met his. it wasn’t uncomfortable, but it made your pulse quicken for reasons you didn’t quite want to think about.

you had always thought sunghoon was attractive – that much had been obvious from the start. maybe, you even used to have a bit of a crush on him, but it was the kind of crush based purely on his looks. there was no way you'd ever actually like him. his personality wasn’t for you – he mocked you too much, was too serious, too distant, and he never got along with your brother, which only made things more complicated. whatever interest you had in him had always stayed shallow.

you nodded, focusing on your breathing. your fingers curled around his hand, and for a split second, you could’ve sworn his grip tightened just a little. nothing about it felt out of place, but it lingered, the warmth of his touch seeming to seep into your skin.

sunghoon, on the other hand, felt a slight shift too, though he wasn’t sure what to make of it. guiding you through practice had become second nature, and yet today, every move seemed to require a bit more concentration than usual. there was something about the way your hand fit in his that unsettled him, but he brushed it off.

he convinced himself it was just his body recognizing that the two of you were beginning to understand each other better – that you were becoming a stronger team. yet, deep down, he knew he had never felt this way with haeun throughout all the years he'd practiced with her. he tried to remain his focus on the routine, but every so often, his gaze flickered to you, lingering a second too long before he forced himself to look away.

when it came time for a lift, you braced yourself, ready for the momentary closeness that was part of the routine. but as his arms wrapped around your waist to lift you, his grip felt different – stronger, more careful, like he was holding you not just for the sake of the move but as if he was afraid of letting you go. your breath caught as you steadied yourself, the air around you feeling heavier, more tense. sunghoon's arms lingered around you for just a second longer than necessary, before he let you go and forced his focus back on the routine.

"you okay?" he asked softly.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and quickly looked away. you weren’t sure what was happening, but it was getting harder to ignore the way your skin buzzed in the places his hands had been.

when your coach called out a short break to catch your breaths, you took the opportunity to step back, feeling like you needed space to clear your head. but when sunghoon reached for you again, his fingers brushing lightly against your wrist, it sent a soft shiver down your spine.

“let’s try again,” he suggested, his voice steady but quieter than usual. you just nodded slightly and continued the practice, trying your best to focus on the routine and shove aside the strange feeling bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

at one point, he stumbled slightly while guiding you through a spin, and you found yourself pressed against his chest. his arms wrapped around you instinctively, holding you steady to prevent a fall. for a split second, the familiar panic rose within you. your heart raced as you looked up at him, your faces unnervingly close. the air suddenly felt thick. for a moment, neither of you moved, caught not only in what had happened, but in the unexpected closeness. he noticed the way your eyes had widened slightly, and a pang of guilt tightened in his chest.

“sorry,” he mumbled, the word barely escaping his lips. he didn’t pull away immediately; instead, his thumb brushed softly against your side, as if he hoped to offer some comfort.

your breath hitched at the unexpected contact, and you fought to suppress the whirlwind of feelings. you forced a smile, pretending everything was normal, even though it felt anything but.

“it’s fine,” you whispered, stepping back reluctantly, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin like a ghost. yet the weight of your fears hung in the air between you, unspoken but palpable, while he cursed himself internally for letting his concentration slip.

as the practice wore on, the tension didn’t go away. there were moments when he held you just a little closer than necessary, or when his breath hitched slightly as you twirled too close to him. the routine was the same, but everything else felt different – slower, more deliberate, like you were both aware of something simmering just beneath the surface, but neither of you wanted to face it.

when practice finally ended, you found yourself reluctant to let go. his hand lingered on you from the final pose of the choreography, and even though your coach had dismissed you, neither of you moved. it was as if the end of practice marked the return to reality, and neither of you wanted to step out of the small, intimate bubble you had somehow created.

“see you tomorrow?” he asked, his voice soft and almost hesitant.

you nodded, offering a small smile. “yeah… tomorrow.”

as you left the rink, you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin.

sunghoon watched as you disappeared from the rink, the warmth of your presence still clinging to the edges of his thoughts. after a short break, he moved onto practice with haeun, his body slipping into the familiar rhythm of their routine, their movements synchronized from years of skating together. yet, despite the familiar movements and haeun’s sharp focus, his mind kept drifting back to the moments before – the way your hand had felt in his, the quiet weight of your gaze when you had both hesitated to let go.

he shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung stubbornly. he had never been this distracted before. not with haeun, where everything usually felt automatic, predictable. but now, the way your warmth had stayed with him seemed to disrupt his focus, like a thread pulling his attention in a direction he didn’t quite understand.

he stumbled slightly, just enough for haeun to notice. “everything okay?” she asked, her tone more curious than concerned.

“yeah,” he muttered, forcing a tight smile. “just tired.”

but as they continued through the rest of the routine, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something had somehow shifted. god, he couldn't wait to go home, take a long, hot shower, and shake off the happenings of the day.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

throughout the following practices, the tension between you and sunghoon only seemed to deepen. soft touches lingered a little longer each time, and there were stolen glances exchanged whenever you could risk them. most of the time, you’d both quickly look away, but sometimes, your eyes would lock – and something about the way he looked at you made it harder to pull away each time.

there were moments when, as soon as he broke eye contact, your stomach would drop ever so slightly, like the warmth and intimacy disappeared along with his gaze.

it felt like sunghoon began to find small ways to close the distance between you during practice. he’d guide you through spins with his hands resting on your waist, his touch firm but gentle. sometimes, he’d step a little closer than needed, his breath ghosting across your skin, or position himself so your arms brushed as you skated side by side. it was subtle, almost unintentional, but every touch and nearness sent a spark of awareness through you. you swore, once or twice he'd even tried to expand your practice time by 'just wanting to go through it one more time' although everything had worked out perfectly fine.

you still couldn't quite classify the fuzzy feeling in your stomach, the way your heart performed a small jump at each touch, but whatever it was, it became increasingly harder to ignore.

it even started clouding your mind outside of practice. more often than you'd liked to admit, you had found yourself thinking back about one certain look he'd given you, or how the slightest brush of his fingers against your skin had sent a shiver down your spine.

"you like him," your best friend had said, matter-of-factly, after you had mentioned it. but that was ridiculous. there was no way you could like sunghoon. you tried convincing yourself it was just the excitement of finally making progress on the ice again. and even if you did like him – though you definitely didn’t – it wouldn't matter. not with the tension between him and your brother, the way they could barely stand each other. getting involved with sunghoon would feel like a betrayal, a line you couldn’t cross. and yet, the thought nagged at you each time the fuzzy feeling returned.

just like now, standing in front of him after trying a new figure together for the first time. you had learned it with jisung before your injury, but until now, you’d only focused on regaining trust in the basics. you’d been nervous before the first attempt, but as you looked up at sunghoon, his soft smile seemed to melt all your worries away.

“well done,” he praised gently. you noticed the subtle twitch of his hand, like he wanted to reach out and pat your head but held back. your eyes met his, and for a brief moment, you swore there was something behind the happiness – a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name. you tried to brush it off, but found yourself searching his face, his posture, for clues of whatever it was you couldn’t place.

his shoulders seemed a little more slouched today, his smile not quite as bright, and his skin just a shade paler than usual. biting your lip, you furrowed your brows, a quiet concern creeping in.

“what’s wrong?” sunghoon asked, sensing the thoughts running through your mind.

“are you… are you okay?” you asked hesitantly, unsure if you were offending him.

sunghoon shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “i’m fine,” he said lightly, as if to brush away your concern. it wasn’t entirely convincing, but you didn’t want to push him. so, you nodded, offering a faint smile in return. you forced yourself to accept his answer and let it go, for now, trying to quiet the worry that still tugged at the edges of your mind nevertheless.

over the next few days, it only seemed to get worse. sunghoon’s movements a little less precise, his usually sharp focus seemingly slipping here and there. whenever you asked, he’d brush it off with a smile and insist he was fine.

but the more he shrugged it off, the more that quiet worry in the back of your mind grew, as if it was trying to tell you something would happen. and it did happen. it happened so quickly, you barely had time to process it.

sunghoon’s hands, usually so steady and sure, faltered mid-lift. you felt his grip slip, and for a terrifying second, your balance wavered in the air. instinctively, you tightened your hold, your heart racing with slight panic. it wasn’t like him – he never made mistakes like this. sunghoon was always precise, always in control, and this slip was completely out of character.

your coach shouted, rushing over as sunghoon quickly adjusted, pulling you back down safely, but the moment had already passed, the weight of it settling deep in your chest. you glanced at him, breathless and shaken, catching the flicker of concern in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a tight-lipped smile. there was a hint of guilt there too – he knew this shouldn’t have happened, and he knew you noticed, knew the effect it must have had on you.

"maybe you should take a moment," your coach advised, her voice soft but her eyes stern. sunghoon's gaze was fixated on the ice, but he gave a short nod and slid towards the exit, sitting down on the nearest bench without another word.

you bit the inside of your cheek, a heaviness settling in your heart as you slowly followed him. the sight of him – clearly frustrated – pulled at you. you lingered by the bench for a moment, unsure if taking a seat would be crossing a line. but sunghoon quickly shifted to the side, creating space for you, silently signaling that it was okay to join him.

he kept his eyes on his feet, not daring to look up, the previous incident replaying in his mind.

"don't beat yourself up over that," you tried to soothen his obvious concerns with a soft voice, "it's fine."

"my moves weren't precise today. i already messed up my own elements, and now i put you in danger too," he replied, his voice low, but his frustration clearly evident.

"nothing happened, sunghoon," you said, mustering all your strength to not take his hand in yours and squeeze it comfortingly, "maybe you just need a break? is everything okay? like… in total," you suggested once more, subtly referring to the previous times you had asked about how he was doing, hoping that this time he might finally open up.

but he just nodded, before standing up, "i don't need a break; i need practice," he declared, ending the conversation before it had chance to bloom.

as he stepped back onto the ice, determination etched on his face, you couldn’t help but watch him closely. the way he moved was both graceful and strained, each stride echoing the tension that filled the air. you felt a knot tighten in your stomach as he began to practice the solo elements he had messed up earlier.

your heart raced with a mix of admiration and worry, each jump and spin a reminder of how much he was pushing himself. the intensity in his eyes was unwavering, but beneath it, you could see the shadows of something else lurking.

he attempted a particularly complex jump, the same one that had caused him trouble before. for a brief moment, it looked like he might conquer it, but then his form faltered, and your breath hitched. you saw him hesitate, an unfamiliar flicker of uncertainty crossing his features, and before you could call out, he stumbled.

time seemed to slow as you watched, helpless, your heart pounding in your chest. just as quickly as he had leaped into the air, he lost his balance completely. you gasped as he fell, the ice rushing up to meet him, and everything else faded away.

“sunghoon!” the panic surged through you as you rushed forward, the world around you blurring.

kneeling beside him, your hands hovered just above his shoulders, torn between the instinct to touch him and the paralyzing fear that gripped your heart. in that terrifying moment, clarity struck. all those signs he had shrugged off – the weariness in his eyes, the small mistakes he tried so hard to mask – must have been exhaustion from the endless hours of practice.

you felt your worries wash over you in waves again and again, feeling like they would drown you any time, as another realization hit you like a jolt of electricity: you were scared of something happening to him, of losing him. an unfamiliar ache settled deep within you, and it was in that moment that you understood – your best friend had been right all along; you liked him. you liked him in a way that twisted your heart and made your breath catch, and the thought terrified you even more.

“sunghoon, please,” you whispered, desperation coloring your voice as you gently shook him, praying he would respond.

your coach rushed beside you just split seconds later. "give him some space,” she instructed, her tone urgent. you stepped back, watching helplessly as she assessed the situation. you felt a wave of nausea wash over you, the reality of what had just happened sinking in.

moments felt like hours as you stood there, anxiety filling every inch of your body, until he finally fluttered his eyes open, sending a jolt of hope through you.

"sunghoon?" you asked, your voice slightly breaking, and you realized tears had started running down your face.

he blinked slowly, confusion clouding his gaze as he took a moment to focus on your face. his heart slightly dropped at the sight of you – a mixture of worry and fear written all over your tear-strained face. he opened his mouth, but you replied, before he could even pose the question.

"you fainted," you said, your voice shaking, "i got so scared."

his brows furrowed, guilt flashing in his eyes as he processed your words. “i’m sorry… i didn't mean to worry you,” he said, trying to sit up but clearly still disoriented.

"you can't keep pushing yourself like this," you said lowly, "it's too much, you have to take care of yourself," you tried your best to stay reasonable, to not let all your emotions mingle and take over you completely.

as he looked at you, the weight of everything hung between you like a fragile bridge, and you felt a shift in the air. vulnerability seeped through him, his expression softening as he realized the depth of your worry. he offered a faint smile, before grabbing your hand in his and giving it just the hint of a squeeze, unable to muster more strength.

his touch felt grounding, reassuring, despite the whirlwind of feelings swirling around inside you. for a moment, it felt like everything around you faded away.

"you've been improving so much, and i just wanted to nail the routine," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, and you swore you could hear him adding a quiet "for you."

"you don't have to prove anything, hoon. you're good and you know it. it's okay to take breaks sometimes," you said softly, mindlessly running your thumb over the back of his hand.

sunghoon couldn't surpress a smile at the nickname and the way your soft touch lingered on his hand. "i'll listen to you sooner next time."

after helping him on his feet, your coach dismissed both of you, instructing sunghoon to get some proper rest and a few days off of practice.

the two of you exited the building in silence, not quite ready to let go of the intimate moment you'd shared just a few minutes ago, neither ready to address it, however. you offered to drive him home in his car, not wanting him to go behind the steering wheel so shortly after fainting – and sunghoon had to admit his attempt to reassure you to not worry was only half-hearted. he quickly let you convince him, giving you the keys and navigating you to his place.

as you pulled up to the building, sunghoon shifted in his seat, his gaze drifting toward the door as if contemplating something. once the engine was off, he turned to you, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“do you want to... do you want to come in for a bit?” he offered softly, the invitation hanging in the air between you.

you hesitated, glancing at the front door as a wave of uncertainty washed over you. you wanted to, you really did. but then again, you couldn't. what if your brother found out? what would he think?

"um... i'm not sure," you quietly answered, looking down to avoid his eyes. sunghoon’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face, but he quickly masked it. “i get it,” he said, his voice a little softer now. "but... can i ask you something?"

you nodded, curiosity piquing despite your reservations.

"why were you crying earlier?" he hesitantly posed the question.

you furrowed your eyebrows, "i was worried about you, i told you," you replied, trying to remain calm although your heart started to violently pound against your chest.

sunghoon’s gaze softened. “worried about me to the point of crying?” he echoed, as if trying to grasp the weight of your concern.

you hesitated for a moment, before slowly nodding your head yes.

"why?"

a simple question: one word that took you buy surprise, that left your head spinning. how could you possibly explain to him all the thoughts and feelings you’ve experienced over the past few weeks – how you felt when he touched you, or even when he simply looked at you?

sunghoon sensed your hesitation, wondering if he'd crossed a line – made you too uncomfortable. just as he was about to take back the question, you replied.

"because... because i think you mean more to me than i thought." your voice was low, as if embarassed by the confession.

he furrowed his brows, "what do you mean by that?"

you took a deep breath, before starting to blurt out everything that had been on your mind for so long. "honestly, i don't know myself. or at least i didn't, until i saw you fainting and i suddenly felt this strange fear of losing you. and that's when it hit me and i understood that i've been trying to ignore how i feel when you touch me, when we're close or when we just look at each other. but you make it so so hard to ignore it and–"

you interrupted yourself as you felt him taking your smaller hand in his bigger one, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through you. only then did you realize all the things you had mindlessly said. "that must have sounded very stupid," you mumbled, your cheeks warming.

sunghoon chuckled softly. "it didn't sound stupid. i'm glad i'm not the only one feeling this way."

his words first brought a rush of surprise, then a flicker of relief, only to be crashed down by a wave of uncertainty. "but... hyuk–"

he squeezed your hand gently, silencing your worries with his touch yet again. "we don't have to figure everything out right now. let's just... take things slow and see where this goes?"

you hesitated, but replied with a nod and a soft smile.

your heart skipped a beat as you noticed him letting his gaze wander from your eyes down to your lips and back up. like magnets, both of you leaned in a little closer, your breath getting stuck in your throat as you felt his own breath fanning your lips.

sunghoon hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting to back to your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. "can i... can i kiss you?"

you felt your heart pick up its pace as you nodded almost shyly.

he leaned in a little more, his lips softly brushing against yours, closing the space between them. the touch was tender, almost hesitant, yet it sent butterflies through your stomach as you reciprocated the gesture, finally letting everything you'd felt throughout the past weeks embrace freely.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

after confessing your feelings, you and sunghoon agreed to take things slow, not wanting to rush into anything complicated. it started with small moments – telling your brother you were meeting up with a friend, sneaking in quick kisses when no one was looking, your heart racing each time. the thrill of being together in secret made everything feel more intense, like something you should be careful with but couldn’t resist. the excitement of new love mixed with the adrenaline of knowing you couldn’t be caught. still, every time you met sunghoon like this, a part of you felt torn, guilt gnawing at you for going behind your brother’s back. but when sunghoon would glance at you with that soft look in his eyes or find your hand when no one was around, it was impossible to stop.

now, after another late practice, the two of you were tucked away in a quiet corner of the rink, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that made your stomach flip. you pulled back, breathless. “we should stop,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “practice is over. someone might see us.”

sunghoon’s hand lingered on the small of your back, tugging you just a little closer. “just a bit longer,” he murmured, eyes filled with something that made it hard to say no. “i don’t care if they see.”

you hesitated, torn between the rush of being with him and the thought of getting caught. “we can’t,” you whispered, even as your body leaned toward him again.

just as you were about to step back, you heard footsteps approaching. before either of you could react, a familiar voice broke the moment.

“hey,” jisung called out, his tone casual.

you quickly turned to face him, heart pounding in your chest. jisung smiled, stepping closer, his arm easily wrapping around you in a friendly hug. “good work today,” he said, holding you close for just a second too long. it was the kind of hug that might’ve seemed normal to anyone else, but you could feel sunghoon tense beside you, his eyes hardening as he watched.

“yeah, thanks,” you replied, doing your best to sound natural, your breath still shaky from moments ago. you gave jisung a quick smile, hoping to cover up the tension.

jisung finally let you go, throwing a glance at sunghoon before turning toward the changing rooms. “you guys deserve your weekend off now,” he said, walking away without a second thought.

as soon as he disappeared from sight, you let out a shaky breath, turning to sunghoon. “that was close,” you whispered, the tension still running high between you.

sunghoon shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line. “too close,” he muttered, clearly not talking about almost getting caught.

when you got home, you dropped your bag in the hallway without a second thought and headed straight to the kitchen for a glass of water. your brother was sitting at the table, focused on his laptop, but he glanced up as you walked in.

"how was practice?" he asked.

the water nearly caught in your throat, even though his question wasn’t unusual. he always checked in, especially after your injury and now that you were paired with sunghoon.

"uh... it was good. coach said i’ll be ready to work with jisung again soon," you lied, forcing a tight smile.

hyuk mirrored your expression. "sounds good. i have an appointment near the rink on monday, so i can drop you off at practice if you want," he offered. you hesitated, knowing sunghoon was supposed to pick you up – from the bus stop to avoid suspicion – but you nodded. "yeah, that’d be great."

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the weekend passed in a blur, and on monday, hyuk drove you to practice, the car filled with silence. you glanced out the window, trying to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

when you arrived at the rink, hyuk parked and turned to you with a serious look. "i need to talk to coach about my own practice," he said. "you mind coming in with me?"

“sure,” you replied, trying to sound casual, even as you felt a knot form in your stomach at the serious look he was giving you.

as you stepped inside, the familiar sound of metal on ice surrounded you. hyuk led the way, but as soon as you entered the main rink area, he suddenly stopped, his gaze locking onto something. you followed his line of sight and your heart dropped. there, on the bench, was sunghoon, his back to you.

“sunghoon!” hyuk called, his voice sharp, and you instinctively felt the air thicken around you.

sunghoon turned, surprise flashing across his face before it shifted into something more guarded. hyuk walked closer, pulling out his phone with a swift motion. “what’s this?” he demanded, holding it up for both you and sunghoon to see. on the screen was a photo of you and sunghoon in the familiar corner of the rink, sharing a kiss – captured in a moment you thought was private.

your stomach dropped. “hyuk, I can explain–” you started, panic rising in your chest, but he cut you off, his expression darkening.

“explain what? that you two were kissing?” he snapped, incredulity flooding his voice. “this is messed up, y/n. you know better than this!”

you stumbled over your words, desperate to cover it up. “no, it’s not like that! we were just–”

“yes, it absolutely is like that,” sunghoon suddenly chimed in, standing up with a mix of determination and frustration. he looked at you, his eyes reflecting both anger and a hint of regret, before turning to hyuk. “we're dating.”

you felt your heart drop at his words, a wave of shock crashing over you. “sunghoon, wait–” you tried to chime in, but he shook his head.

“don’t deny it, y/n,” he said firmly, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. he understood your attempt to conceal it, yet he coulnd't help but feel it tugging at his heart a little.

hyuk's expression twisted into a furious scowl. “you two should not be involved at all! you both should have known better!” his voice rose, filled with disbelief and anger.

��hyuk, it’s not like that–” you began again, but your brother cut you off.

“sunghoon’s probably just messing with you to get under my skin,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “you can’t honestly believe he cares about you.”

sunghoon stepped forward, his jaw clenched in frustration, protectiveness surging within him. “not everything is about you, hyuk!" he turned to you, "i'm being genuine, i–", he attempted to reach for your hand, but hyuk was quick to grab sunghoon's wrist, holding it firmly.

"don't fucking touch her," he hissed.

the tension hung thick in the air as the two of them stared each other down, neither willing to back down. you felt the weight of the situation pressing down on you, torn between the anger and hurt radiating from your brother and the fierce protectiveness emanating from sunghoon.

he looked at you, trying to lock your eyes, almost faltering at the overload of emotion they failed to hide, "she deserves better than to feel like she has to hide it," he said to hyuk, yet his gaze never left you. the intensity in his eyes made your heart race, but it only deepened the conflict swirling within you.

“better?” hyuk sneered, his voice low and dangerous. “better than what? better than the guy who will just throw her aside when it’s convenient for him? he doesn’t care about you, y/n.”

“shut up finally!” you snapped, the frustration spilling over.

sunghoon’s grip on your heart tightened as he took a step closer, his voice softening. “y/n, i care about you. i don’t want you to feel ashamed or torn. this is real for me.”

“and that’s what makes this so dangerous,” hyuk interjected, his tone biting. “you don’t see it, do you? you’re getting involved with someone who has every reason to betray you. think about it, y/n. don’t let him mess with your head just because he’s your partner on the ice.”

you felt a surge of emotion, a whirlwind of confusion and anger. the weight of their words pressed heavily on your chest. “hyuk, you need to trust me. i’m not a child!”

“trust you?” hyuk laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “you’re choosing him over your own brother? someone who’s supposed to look out for you?”

“it’s not that simple!” you shouted, the tears threatening to spill over. “you’re making this so much harder than it needs to be!”

hyuk’s gaze hardened, his voice lowering to a chilling whisper. “you think this will end well? it never does with him. don’t let him drag you into his mess.”

“i’m not a part in your stupid rivalry or whatever shit!” you retorted, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

hyuk’s expression shifted, caught between anger and concern. he took a breath, as if weighing his words. “i just don’t want to see you hurt. sunghoon isn’t who you think he is.”

with that, he turned sharply and walked away, leaving you in a storm of conflicting emotions. you felt exposed, like you were standing between two forces that wanted to pull you apart.

as your gaze followed hyuk, your heart racing, you spotted jisung leaning against the wall, his presence striking in the silence that followed. he was watching you, a mix of emotions flickering across his face – an apology, a hint of regret. you felt a pang in your heart as he turned away and headed toward the changing room, the weight of everything crashing down around you.

the practice that followed felt awkward and uncomfortable, each glide on the ice a reminder of the tension from earlier. sunghoon sensed your turmoil. he remained soft with you, his gaze filled with understanding. though he wanted to support you, he respected your need for space, accepting your decision to go home alone rather than insisting on taking you.

as days passed, hyuk’s words replayed in your mind, planting seeds of doubt about sunghoon’s intentions. “he’s just playing a game, y/n,” hyuk would say, his tone smooth yet laced with disdain. the more you heard, the more you questioned sunghoon’s sincerity. with each meeting at the rink, you felt an invisible barrier tightening between you, leaving you torn between love and uncertainty.

sunghoon noticed the change, his concern deepening. one evening, he confronted you after practice, his voice gentle at first. “y/n, is everything okay? you seem… different.”

you hesitated, forcing a smile that felt hollow. “i’m fine.”

“you don’t have to pretend with me,” he pressed. “if something's bothering you, just tell me.” he sensed what was about to come, yet it hit him like a punch in the face.

“i’m just... not sure about your intentions,” you admitted, the weight of your own thoughts finally sinking in.

his expression shifted, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “y/n, you can’t think i’m here to hurt you,” he shot back, hurt evident in his eyes. “after everything, how can you doubt me?”

you hesitated, the intensity of his plea hitting hard. “i just… need time,” you murmured.

“time? or are you running away from what’s real?” he challenged, the pain in his voice slicing through you. “you’re shutting me out, choosing to believe him over me.”

you sighed, your mind heavy with thoughts and frustration, and all you wanted was to shut everything out and be alone until it all stopped. "this isn't about you and him..."

"it shouldn't be. it should be about me and you – about us. you're choosing to let him ruin this."

as the weight of his words settled between you, you felt guilt wash over you. he was right. without waiting for a response, he turned away, frustration propelling him to leave. you stood frozen, the space between you widening, regret spreading in your chest as he walked away.

just as you were about to leave the rink, you heard footsteps approaching you from behind. you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. hell, you just wanted to finally go home.

jisung stepped forward, shifting nervously on his feet. “y/n,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “can we talk for a second?”

you kept your gaze fixed ahead, avoiding his eyes. “what do you want now?” you replied, not bothering to hide the lack of willingness to talk to anyone right now.

"i have to tell you something." he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your eyes. “i, uh… i was the one who sent the picture to hyuk,” he admitted, the words tumbling out quickly. “i didn’t think it would cause this much trouble. i was just… feeling kinda–” he paused, struggling to find the right words, “jealous? i never wanted it to blow up like this.”

the words felt like a punch to the gut, anger rising within you. “why would you do that?” you asked, hurt lacing your voice.

“please, just listen–”

“you know what, no,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “i don’t want to hear it. you’ve already done enough.” you turned away, the weight of his confession heavy in the air. you walked out of the rink, desperate to finally escape the chaos.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

days after the incident, you hadn't spoken a word to neither of the three. you had asked your coach to take a break from pair skating, telling her you wanted to focus on mastering your solo routines. it was a lie – you just needed space from everything and everyone.

across the rink, hyuk leaned against the barrier, arms crossed and expression unreadable. a few feet further stood sunghoon, who had come for his own practice, a tense silhouette against the bright ice. though they weren’t speaking, hyuk could feel the electric tension in the air between them. his gaze flicked between you and sunghoon, noticing the way sunghoon watched you. there was a softness in his eyes, a longing that tugged at hyuk’s heart.

sunghoon's brows furrowed as you executed a particularly difficult move, his expression a mixture of admiration and concern. each time you stumbled, his body tensed, as if he wanted to rush forward to catch you, but he remained rooted in place. hyuk’s gaze narrowed slightly as he observed this; it was clear that beneath the facade, sunghoon genuinely cared for you.

hyuk watched the interplay between you and the ice, his heart heavy with unspoken words. sunghoon’s intensity was palpable, and it ignited a flicker of frustration within hyuk. he pushed himself away from the barrier, moving toward sunghoon with determination.

“hey,” he called out, his voice cutting through the air. sunghoon turned slightly, his expression shifting from concentration to guardedness. “we need to talk.”

“about what?” sunghoon replied, his tone laced with defiance.

“about y/n,” hyuk said, glancing back to ensure you were still focused on your practice. “i was wrong to come between you two. i don't trust you, but i can see it. you care about her.”

sunghoon’s brows furrowed, a mixture of surprise and frustration washing over his face. "what changed?"

"i’ve watched how you look at her, the way you worry when she struggles. that’s not something you can fake. it’s clear you care more than i thought.”

sunghoon hesitated, his expression softening under hyuk’s scrutiny. “i do care, but it’s complicated. i didn’t mean for things to get so messed up.”

hyuk sighed, hesitantly giving in. "i was the one to mess it up," he admitted.

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the way hyuk's expression softened.

“you know,” hyuk continued, “you should really talk it out with her. she’s been off these past few days. she used to come home with a smile after every practice.” his voice trailed off as he realized the weight of what he’d overlooked in recent weeks. “and if you’re the reason for that smile, then… i suppose i’ll have to accept it, right?”

sunghoon remained silent, unsure if he could truly trust hyuk’s words. yet the thought of you beaming after spending time with him tugged at his heart, igniting a deep desire to keep that smile alive.

"just don't let her down, okay? she deserves to be happy," he said, reaching out to softly pat his shoulder, before walking off.

as you finished your practice, a glance toward the rink’s edge caught your attention. hyuk and sunghoon stood together, an exchange of words passing between them, and you could even see hyuk gently squeezing sunghoon's shoulder. you furrowed your brows. you swore you'd never seen an interaction like this happening.

moments later, you saw sunghoon approaching you, his expression soft yet earnest.

“y/n,” he began, his voice laced with hesitation, “i’m really sorry for everything that happened... i shouldn’t have pressured you or put you in that position.”

you felt the weight of his words settle in your chest. “no, it’s my fault,” you replied, your heart racing. “i let hyuk get in my head and i shouldn’t have let that come between us. i was so scared of disappointing him that i lost sight of what really mattered...”

sunghoon stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “i shouldn’t have told him about us like that. i was frustrated, and it felt like i was losing you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i never wanted to make you feel trapped or unsure.”

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you took a breath, feeling the sincerity in his words, and for the first time you openly confessed, “i love you, sunghoon. i don’t want to hide that anymore. i just want us to be okay.”

he nodded, his expression softening further, his heart fluttering from your confession. “i love you too, y/n. and i promise, no matter what, i’ll always fight for us.”

his words wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, instilling a sense of certainty that made you feel grounded and safe. you stepped closer, minimizing the distance between you, and softly brought your hands to rest on his chest. sunghoon responded by placing his hands on your waist, pulling you a fraction closer, before leaning down to tenderly brush his lips against yours – all out in the open, finally for everyone to see. <3

join my taglist here | masterlist

taglist: @intojaeyun @yunhoswrldddd

#dazzlingjaeyun writes #enhypen au #enhypen #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #engene #sunghoon au #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon enhypen #enhypen angst

250 notes · View notes

junedenim · 4 months ago

Text

it's three in the morning

for the long haul

warnings: piv, eating, pregnancy piv, mild dad!alex, and probably some other stuff too

word count: 8.8k

There was an attitude when you first met that you each would hold a sense of permanence in each other's lives. It wasn't completely romantic at first. You and Alex met through a series of shared friends.

This was 2013 and you were both otherwise occupied with separate relationships. His was longer and much more stable. Yours was a short passionate fury that ended by early 2014. Coincidentally, as did his.

But still, it wasn't a direct rebound. He was touring and when the band stopped in New York—your home at the time—you stuck around at the after-party with Alex. Nothing much happened there other than a questionable conversation three rounds in.

"It's all speeding up," he said. It was drunk talk and you weren't paying attention to the idea he had spoken before it but you tried your best to follow after. His body came closer and huddled so close to yours, which was excusable in the February chill, but debatable with the indoor heating.

He slung an arm over your shoulder and, with great camaraderie, you slid your arm behind his back; a "friendly" side hug. "Time is weird," you said.

Alex looked at you. His eyes were alcohol-glazy but his soul was bursting to say something. You could both feel the unsaid left lingering and his head moved forward at one point as if he were going to kiss you but it was then decided he would hesitate on that front.

He chuckled through his nose as if some joke had been made before turning his head to look at the buzzing partiers. He nodded at something and you weren't sure if it was related to your statement or not. You took another sip of your vodka Coke and he said, "Timing is everything."

He slipped away from you after that and it's possible he slept with someone else that night but you aren't sure. You don't even know if he would remember. He slept with a lot of people in 2014. It was a messy time.

Later in the year, toward the end of July, he called you from Iowa. Despite the hour, somewhere in the early morning, neither of you was drunk. Alex's sleep schedule had little idea of the concept of time with the mad case of severe jet lag he could be diagnosed with and you, well, you were asleep but you acted like it was normal for him to wake you up at 3 AM.

"Where in Iowa are you from?" He asked. Neither of you had really gotten to know one another. Not those small details. You knew he was from Sheffield but you don't know what college he went to or his parents' names or if he's ever broken a bone. Your relationship had never been built on knowing each other. It was always just about feeling each other. You had always gotten on well, never fought, always laughed, slung arms around one another, and thought about the maybes.

"Why do you ask?" You laughed at the idea of him calling you in the dead of night, sitting outside his tour bus, smoking a cigarette, talking about your tiny hometown.

"We're playing there tomorrow. Council Bluffs or something. You're the only person I know from Iowa." You told him that the first night you met and he latched onto it like it was some lie you told to impress people because people are usually so impressed with the concept of being a Hawkeye. Although, he never got more information about it. He didn't know that you grew up on a corn farm and you learned how to drive your dad's truck at 9 years old.

You scoffed, "Council Bluffs. You might as well just be in Nebraska."

He chuckled. "Sorry. I'll plan it out better for you next time."

"I'm from Beaman. It's close to the center. Very small town," you told him. "But there's a library and a basketball court that becomes an ice skating rink in the winter. It was dull but I liked it."

"Sounds like a nice place to grow up." You shrugged, not that he'd be able to see it. An air of silence hung over the conversation and you're not sure if he was waiting for you to say something in return. And then he suddenly said, "I've been thinking about you. Not just in Iowa."

You weren't sure what that meant. He was still so new to you and a one-on-one phone call had never been done before. You couldn't yet tell what he was trying to convey through the tone of his voice if this was some playful thing, a joke or something serious, a flirtation. "Why?" You questioned.

It was silent and you imagined him shrugging but you'd never know for sure if he did or not. Eventually, he answered, "Guess I just missed you. Is that allowed?" It was rolled in humour and tucked in a laugh so you took it as a joking sweetness. Some sense of sincerity lingered but it wasn't packed with desperation.

So, you told him you missed him too and hopefully you'd hang out again soon. The conversation ended and soon wasn't around the corner. You kept in touch, by text and through friends, but he didn't return from the road until November and you weren't yet one of the people he would hang out with as soon as he was back, especially since you were in New York and he was in LA when he wasn't on the other side of the pond.

But then you moved to LA, right at the beginning of 2015. Truthfully, it was for your boyfriend. It was an awful idea and you knew it. You had only been dating the guy for a few months and retrospectively it was never serious but in the moment fantasy and blurred visions came to mind and they took the wheel from you. Besides, you had a career that you could do anywhere, most of your friends were in LA, and there was, of course, Alex.

At a shared friend's birthday party, you saw Alex again through a barrier of smoke. Your boyfriend was off in the bathroom and Alex was pushing himself off the wall with a drunken stumble and throwing his arms around you.

"Huck told me you'd be here. Told me you're out in LA. How come you didn't tell me?" His words were rolling out of him quickly with little care where they ended up.

You did your best to reciprocate the hug and follow his sloppy manner as he leaned back against the wall. You stirred your gin & tonic with the flick of your wrist, still sober having just arrived. "It's all been hectic. We're just starting to settle out here."

His eyes drifted away, looking behind you, and when the cold hand touched your back you realized what he was looking at. "Yeah, well, once you are, we should get together or something. Alex, by the way." He waved to your boyfriend, staying against the wall this time. He looked like he was having trouble keeping his eyes open but his speech was clear with no slurring sounded.

You put your arm around your boyfriend's back, returning his hold. "I'd like that. We'll probably have some housewarming party at some point so..."

Alex hummed his acknowledgment like words were becoming too much work. He brought the spliff to his lips and the smell of marijuana began to give you a headache and a craving at the same time. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, pulling him away from you. It took a moment of staring before you moved to find residency on the couch, but more lingered in the air than just the smell of weed. Uncertainty persisted.

A month later, the house had been settled and a housewarming party occurred but Alex didn't attend. He had said he was out of town but you're not sure where out of town. It didn't matter much. You didn't live in that house for very long.

It would seem like fate stepped in at some point or a mere happenstance that the night you and your boyfriend broke up everyone in the world seemed to be busy. Friends were away for the weekend or had guests staying with them or simply didn't pick up their phones at 2 AM. But Alex did.

When you arrived at his house, he was peculiarly waiting in his driveway. His hands were on his hips and his head cocked in a way that some might interpret as pissed but you knew it was just his resting position.

Your unaffected nature could also be misinterpreted. You didn't feel the urge to cry, and though you were upset at the demise of a loving relationship, it didn't provoke your tear ducts and you remained indifferent.

After exiting your car, he asked, "Are you okay?"

And it was easy to nod and answer, "Truthfully, yes." It's probably easier to feel this way when you are the one who initiated the break-up.

It's also easy to feel that way when instead of going to bed you're accompanied by Alex and drinks. No rejection was involved when downing a bottle of hard liquor, especially when Alex seemed to have it stockpiled. You both operated better drunk, which could have been alarming to an outsider, but for you and Alex it was understandable. It wasn't used as coping, each other was used for that. The alcohol was just an additional treat.

"It's hard to not feel like I'm wasting away my youth," you told him, leaning your head on the back of the couch.

He was on the opposite end, cigarette stuck in his mouth as he spoke, "You're still young."

"Not forever," you lamented. "I guess that's the thing. I'm not particularly pissed it's over. I think I did us both a favour but I'm pissed about running out of time for these things. I mean, I moved across the country for this guy. I used to have fun with guys! Now I'm just following them places and desperately trying to play the role of wife. Like, who am I?"

Alex openly laughed in response.

You giggled in return, "Don't laugh at me."

He shook his head, removing smoke and cigarette from his lips. "I think you're getting worked up over nothing."

"Maybe." You shrugged. "But I don't think so. I don't know what I'm saying. Wait, yes, I do." Alex laughed again. "I'm saying I want to have fun again."

"Right." He nods.

His eyes locked with yours and once his cigarette was stubbed out and the bottle you had been clutching was placed down on the coffee table, his lips then locked with yours. It was harsh and rough like every drunk kiss that had occurred before in history.

It must have been around 4 AM at this point and everything felt hungry. Like this was—he was—your midnight snack. This is when desperation occurs. The quick need for satisfaction with no care about the journey to get there.

Alex's arms clutched around your lower back up to your shoulder blades, pulling you on top of him. Her hands grasped around the endpoints of his sharp jaw making it impossible to be stuck in a heated makeout. You straddled him but it was hard (in two ways) to not feel frustrated quickly.

You reached down, swiping your hands along his chest, and landing on the button of his jeans. Everything must come undone and he understood that perfectly. You didn't even bother to pull his zipper down, instead reaching your hand into his underwear and letting the force drag the zipper apart.

He pulled your hand out just so you could get your top off of you and while your arms were up in the air, you grind on him and soft moans escaped, swallowing it up when your lips reunited. He was a master at unclasping a bra and had easy access to your pussy through your small skirt made up of flowy material.

Your hand made small movements around his cock and his fingers grazed through your folds and he seemed to want to do a version of shared masturbation but you ached for something stronger. You lifted yourself off of him to remove your skirt and panties. He shuffled just enough to kick his jeans and underwear off the bottom of his feet. You finished reaching nudity at the same time.

Alex didn't allow you to straddle him again, pushing you onto your back as he took off his shirt. His nude body hovered over you and the back of your head hit the arm of the couch. You curled your legs around him, pushing his hips toward yours. Everything is non-verbal, all performed through signs. You've always been on the same wavelength and it feels like words would have ruined this and made this all seem questionable.

He quit the foreplay of kissing your neck and pinching your breasts and became rough like this is what you wanted, now shut up and take it. He was in you and on top of you and it's exactly what you wanted: fun. He could be described as a pleasurable jackhammer as he moved in and out of you. Everything was hard and skin was slapping but you're both moaning and none of it was silent whimpers. It was shouts of "Fuck!" and "Harder!" and "Holy shit!" and "Right there!"

It's all responded to correctly. You nipped at his neck and toward the end, he reached down to rub your clit. It's all masterfully done on both of your parts. Your walls clenched around his dick and he stretched you open to a degree that has you grasping at the couch cushions until you've come. Then, he pulled out of you, letting it all go, straight onto your stomach.

Exhaustion and complete silence fell. Alex laid back on his side of the couch, panting. A few breaths passed before he rose and grabbed a rag from the kitchen, wiping his cum off you.

"Is that your cum towel?" You joked.

His face broke a smirk and he nodded. A question hung in the air of what to do next, stuck in the middle of his hot living room. He towered over you as you sat up, slowly adjusting. He folded the rag up in his hand and then asked, "You wanna use it again?"

Laughter erupted from you but you did end up using it again the next time in his bedroom, which allowed comfort and greater sensuality. It was less rushed but left you both exhausted by the end of it. You slept like rag dolls, limbs hanging over one another, and powerful sleep.

In the morning (or afternoon, you're unsure), with your bodies connected, you both awoke around the same time, blinking away sleep and finding his eyes doing the same. Your unsaid nature returned and you weren't sure if you should even leave the bed or if you should be racing out the front door.

"Thanks for letting me stay," you whispered with tired vocal chords.

He shuffled closer, sheets rustling, and licking away sleep. "Course," he croaked. "You could stay forever."

It might have meant more, especially after fucking each other, but it felt more like a favour than a request. You ate breakfast together before you left, no goodbye kisses, and he said goodbye at the door instead of walking you to your car. Two weeks later, he joined you and a group of friends for drinks where you shared light small talk and he bought a round. You left for New York two days later with no acknowledgment of anything more. It just was what it was and neither of you was hurt by that, but both of you still felt longing for it to be otherwise.

In the heat of summer, you visited LA and met up with Alex for dinner. The LA visit was more for business but you decided to sort out the personal while you're there. His hair was longer, cut around the ears, no longer greased back. It's a reminder of that morning when everything was thrown about without care. He was dressed in a white button-down that was unbuttoned enough to have a clear view of the chain that hung around his neck and his seductiveness was so clear you have a hard time believing he didn't know exactly how this night was going to end.

There was small talk but Alex was quick to cut through the bullshit and get to the heart of things. "We've never had dinner together before," he said. "Not just the two of us." A smirk played on his face and lewd images flashed in your mind.

You sipped your wine as a coping mechanism and leaned back in your chair. You needed to be far from him, at least for now. Playing it cool was the main goal. "Are you telling me you don't want to hang out with me?"

"Oh, I want to hang out with you but I was thinking of something much different."

Intentions were clear and things were laid out on the table so when he invited you back to his house for drinks, you had no issue with him stopping in an abandoned parking lot so you could fuck each other.

Because fucking was easy and you always felt things together instead of knowing things together. So, when he takes you in the backseat, confined, and hot & heavy, it feels romantic for something usually so drenched in the word "dirty."

The leather seats stick against your sweaty back while he undoes his belt and then his trousers before sliding your underwear aside and going into you. The AC is blasting but you don't feel it and there's a lightheaded feeling likely from wine and dehydration but you blame the way his cock hits that spot in you.

The rest of the drive isn't awkward and that's when things started to feel different. It became clear that the sense of permanence with one another wasn't a platonic coincidence of sharing friends but something much more loving. You laughed that his car radio was stuck on the sports channel and made fun of the baseball announcers shouting over the Dodgers losing to the Phillies.

Before this shift, you expected to continue your intense rush to instant passion; fucking in the hallway, fucking in the living room, fucking in the kitchen, fucking on the bathroom floor, fucking in the shower, fucking in his bed, fucking against a wall, fucking on the washing machine, fucking on the ceiling if you could. Instead, you watched the rest of the Dodgers v. Phillies game, despite knowing little about baseball and Alex's knowledge reliant on Bad News Bears and high school phys ed.

Besides, little attention was paid to the game itself. He drank a beer and made you a vodka Coke and baseball is boring and Alex had suddenly become everything.

"There's a reason baseball is America's pastime," you commented. "Who the fuck wants to sit and watch this all day?"

Alex shrugged, a smile playing on his cheeks. "It's fun when they get a home run."

"It's fun when I get a strike in bowling, doesn't mean everyone wants to sit and watch me," I struck back.

He chuckled, wiping his beer lip. "You like bowling?"

"Yeah. My dad used to set up empty cans and have us play. The nearest bowling alley was 45 minutes away so we went there on special occasions."

Alex smiled, completely charmed, and that's when you started knowing each other. Later, you walked to his bedroom and had sex and while it was passionate, it had lost its spontaneity quality, which didn't lessen it, instead changing it into something new.

The following morning, you took his old words of "stay forever" to heart and never left LA. Your return move to LA was mocked by your friends for your coming-and-going nature and moving everything all over again was a pain in the ass but Alex flew to New York and helped pack your things. When you moved into your new place, Alex helped you unpack and helped "Christen the place," as he put it by going down on you on those marble kitchen counters.

Separate places felt ideal not to rush things, but soon it seemed wasteful as most nights were spent at Alex's. You weren't a big fan of your new place in comparison to Alex'ss, which wasn't shocking. Alex had a pool for Christ's sake.

Although, it still felt like the best fit. You didn't like how much Alex smoked and Alex didn't like how messy you were. While technically not living together, you fought over these things like you did.

Smoking usually went:

"It's my house. I can do it however much I want to!"

"You're going to ruin the house by smoking inside it!"

"I paid for it!"

"You're killing yourself!"

"It's my lungs!"

"I'm gonna die from secondhand smoking!"

Messiness usually went:

"You can't come over and trash my house!"

"It's barely anything! If you let me have a drawer this wouldn't be a problem!"

"It's not just your clothes! You leave dirty dishes everywhere!"

"I get to it eventually!"

"So do the rats!"

But all and all, it always ended relatively positively. Alex took to smoking on his balcony more and you would join him from time to time. You didn't really clean up more, but Alex did give you a top drawer in his dresser.

At the beginning of December, you both attended a Christmas party, where you and Alex wore a Santa hat you bought at Party City because neither of you owned anything festive. However, everyone at the party considered it to make you the cutest couple there. You both thought it was rather cheesy but you leaned into the cliche of it and got drunk off eggnog and roleplayed Mr. & Mrs. Claus at the party until it verged on too creepy.

Over a shared cup of eggnog, Alex asked you, "You want to come to Sheffield?"

Meeting the parents had never been discussed. It was easy when his parents lived in another country and your parents were scared of planes. Though excitement and nerves bubbled, you answered, "Sure" before taking a sip.

He chuckled, now accustomed to what your reactions meant. "We could do Christmas there."

You said, "Sure" and sipped the eggnog again because it helped fight against those nerves in your stomach.

Alex chucked again because he was charmed, now completely lost in you.

Christmas in Sheffield was cold. It rained heavily the whole time you were there. You and Alex only braved walking around town once on the 23rd when the rain had stopped momentarily. The city centre was time for sightseeing all his old haunts. You walked arm-in-arm with Alex in an effort to combat the cold but still keep your hands in your coat pockets.

You got a half hour in before it started pouring rain and you were left feeling like idiots for not bringing an umbrella with you. The car was far away and you both debated ducking into a bookstore but you were both already too soaked and cold and decided just to head back to the car. He grabbed your hand, leading the way, as you raced through the unbearably cold beating rain.

On the way back to his childhood home, the rain had increased even more making it nearly impossible for Alex to see properly while driving. "This is how you end up killing someone," you said.

Alex put his hand on your shoulder but kept his eyes steady on the road. "Relax. I know how to drive."

You removed his hand from your shoulder and placed it back on the wheel. "Then, keep both hands at 10 and 2," you ordered.

He laughed and reached over to kiss your cheek and while the affection made you gain a cavity, your nerves bubbled up as you pushed him away. "Eyes on the road, mister!"

You both made it back unscathed, minus your socks, which had been soaked through. The house was warm and the smell of dinner wafted through the air. The house was quiet other than the pattering of rain and some jazz record his dad had put on. It felt like coming home.

Christmas dinner, however, was hectic. You drove out to his grandparents' place and the quiet 4-person car ride led to a fistful of screaming grandchildren and uncles whose laughs broke the sound barrier.

It had you turning to him. "This is your family?"

"Yeah. Hard to believe, right?" The calmness of Alex must come from his mum's side of the family.

Once dinner was served, the noise level calmed down as people stuffed their faces and they wished to show a great impression to their American guest of honour. The questions were light and it was clear that you weren't the first American girl Alex had brought home but everyone was welcoming and Alex placed a reassuring arm on the back of your chair. He would occasionally lift his hand and play with the longest strands of your hair, bouncing the curls you had made that morning.

Later, while the young kids played with the toys they had just received as gifts, Alex and you drank tea together. It was a warm distance for the fast nights of Los Angeles. You leaned close to Alex on the settee so he could hear your words. "I like Sheffield a lot."

He turned his head away from watching the kids, meeting your eyes. A smile crept to his lips. "Good." His hand smoothed down your sweater-covered arm. "I'm happy you're happy."

That in turn made you smile. "I like this quietness. You know, of the city, not this house."

Alex chuckled and pushed the front hanging pieces of hair behind your shoulder, eyes sculpting over your body. "It's nice to come back. Feels like a reset."

You took your fancy tea cup off your fancy tea plate and took a sip, feeling like a proper English lady. "You should come to Beaman. You'll probably hate it but it's like no one else in the world exists out there."

He hummed, staring softly at you. His eyes made the ice in you melt. "If you love it, I'll love it," he promised.

"It'll just be you, me, and the chickens," you giggled.

Alex grinned, skimming his thumb over your cheekbone. "Hm. I love you."

It caught all the air in the room and it suddenly didn't feel as cold as it did a minute before. You inched closer to him and smiled because he was smiling. "You've never told me that before, you know."

He furrows his brows, playing up his acting. "I haven't?"

"Actually, you told me when you were drunk once. Back in October, at that Halloween party."

He squints seriously this time. "I don't remember this."

You coyly smile. "I know. It was when Miles and me were carrying you inside and I couldn't figure out if you were saying it to me or him."

He leaned forward, his arm pulling you toward him as he laughed in your ear before kissing your cheek. "You. Always you."

"Good." You clapped your hands. "I'll hang this over Miles's head for decades."

That night, Alex fell asleep quickly, allowing you to realize something. You nudged him awake, making him groan. "What?"

You curled your arm around him. "Nothing. I'm sorry I woke you."

His arms moved around your waist, laying you on top of him. His eyes stayed shut, not wanting to lose his sleepiness. "It's alright," he mumbled. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." You leaned into his ear, whispering, "Love you."

A grin spread across his lips, enticing you to lean over and kiss the corner of it. He hummed. "Love you too. Night."

The following year, Alex went away on tour. You stayed, he went, but it never felt like it placed a strain on the relationship. There was longing and missing but never any resentment and as Alex would put it, "It always makes for great reunion sex."

You briefly joined them in August when they played California: Santa Ana, San Diego, and Outside Lands in San Francisco. They were all one after the next and left you exhausted and though Alex was much more well-adjusted to the pace of touring, it was reaching the tail end and he struggled with the comedown on it all.

Those were the only times you grew frustrated with one another. You never really yelled or fought—maybe because you didn't want to or maybe because you were in close quarters with other people—although, you had tiffs.

Much like your annoyances at home, traveling or touring only amplified what truly annoyed you about each other but in a way—a super corny, cheesy way—you loved Alex even more for that.

"I like that you're not perfect," you said late to him one night. He was smoking a cigarette and though the weather was hot, there was a nighttime breeze that settled over the two of you.

"Gee, thanks," he quipped, puffing away.

You knocked a shoulder into him. "I'm being sweet. If you were perfect then I'd feel inadequate all the time in comparison but since you've got these flaws and vices that make you more real, in a roundabout way, you are perfect. For me, at least."

Alex grew amused with every passing word, tucking an arm behind you. "Well, you're perfect. I hope you feel that."

You shifted your body to get a full look at him. "Maybe not perfect but I feel worthy or something. You always make me feel adequate. I appreciate that."

He shrugged, unsure of how to respond. "You're easy to love. I've never struggled with that."

That's always been the word: easy. From the moment you met, it was a clear link holding you two together, and with time doing its thing, it only grew slowly into what it should be. There was never a force of change, you held onto each other until you clicked at the right time. After that, there was no way to disrupt it.

You moved into Alex's in September. After the tour (and even before), you spent all your time there anyway. He decided over breakfast one day to make it official.

He pulled out a pan to make eggs but before he could place it on the stove, he stared at it. "This is your pan," he said."

You looked up from your cereal. "Oh, yeah, you don't have small pans so I brought mine over. It's better for your eggs, you know. Heats up quicker."

Alex began to laugh, placing the pan down on the stove, and his hands on his hips. You chuckled along with him, even though you were confused. "What's so funny?"

He shook his head, trying to shake off the laughter. "Do you even have anything at your place anymore?"

"Um, I don't know." you thought aloud. You shoveled a pile of cereal in your mouth.

"Why don't you just sell the place?" He suggested. "Move in here."

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" He questioned.

"Yeah, I mean, I like my place."

Alex snorted. "You're never at your place."

"I still like it," you insisted.

He moved over, coming behind you like a snake, and hugging your waist tightly. "Come on, move in," he whispered in your ear.

"I'll think about it," you said as he kissed your neck.

Alex decided on other plans for breakfast. You stood up to clean your bowl but his arms stopped you from making it to the kitchen sink. "I have a convincing argument," he said, taking the bowl out of your hands and setting it down.

You laughed at his bravado but you were soon overpowered by it. He bent you over the counter harshly with a kiss to your left shoulder blade as a form of salvation. He kneeled down on both his knees and grazed his hands on your butt, playing with the fabric of your shorts. He squeezed and pulled and yanked, eventually dragging the material off of you and having it lay at your feet.

Alex's slow nature in the morning took hold as he danced his fingers around your cunt. The tips of his fingers edged on the lips of your pussy. The thumb on his other hand, touched over your asshole, making it pucker up with tension.

"Your teasing is only making me want to say no," you said, desiring relief as soon as possible.

Alex only hummed and muttered, "Interesting." He placed a light kiss on your inner thigh but it only felt like he was moving further away from the point of release. He moved up and kissed your left butt cheek, his hand squeezing the right.

His touch became light and he moved his hand back down to your lips. "I know how to get you there," he insisted. He tapped both your knees. "Spread. They're so close together. It's like you don't want me to touch you."

"It's called being bored," you retorted.

Then, Alex slapped your ass. He'd never done anything more than a pat and it was usually more in a casual setting, not when you were butt naked and not that hard.

You turned your head around, looking down at him with a squint. "Did you just slap my ass?"

"Yeah," he quickly admitted. "Why? Did you like it?" A smirk presented as if he already knew the answer.

You didn't want to give in to him. This was frustration, it wasn't supposed to be satisfaction. You wanted him begging for you, not the other way around. But you couldn't help it. You bit your lip and turned away, not wanting him to see the pleasurable smile on your face. "Maybe."

But then he overwhelmed you, diving straight in and placing his mouth directly on your cunt, dragging a long moan out of you. You could feel the coldness of the counter through your shirt, erecting your nipples. Your hands made a fist, unable to grab onto anything, thwarting you.

His tongue plunged into you and then moved up to your clit before pulling away again, making everything unbearable. His mouth moved to kiss your inner thigh before he left completely to slap your ass again. "You alright?" He asked to make sure, even if you gasped in delight at every feeling.

"Go back down," you demanded.

Alex listened and returned to your core, licking his way through your fold, and reaching his tongue up to your clit. He continued the game of agony, moving back and forth from the pleasurable, but slowly the edging made for a great build-up and he began to lay it on thick, never abandoning your clit until your legs were shaking and you were practically pushing him away from you.

He stood up and slapped your ass. You moved in on Tuesday.

Not much changed. You already had drawers in his dresser and space in his closet and pans in his kitchen. You had already infected his house with your essence and the only difference was you weren't paying rent on a place you were barely ever sleeping.

As the new year began, things slowed. Alex started growing his hair out, stopped shaving, and became far more reclusive. He had grown tired from the road, was now in his 30s, and, most importantly, settled. At times, that thought was terrifying for you, staring down the barrel of this being the rest of your life. Other times, it was comforting, usually waking up in the morning next to Alex.

But there was a lifestyle shift in Alex that you weren't yet aligned with. He rebuffed the idea of going out, talked about leaving LA, and locked himself away in his music room. You weren't particularly annoyed at the latter other than it sometimes felt like he was locking you out of part of him. The idea of leaving LA wasn't unappealing, but he longed for England more and you were American through and through. Going out, well, maybe that's where you got into trouble.

Alex's newfound life as a hermit wasn't horrible now that you were living together but you started to go out more and more without him. Usually with various groups of friends, sometimes for work, two times with Miles, and one time by yourself. Alex said no to going so often that you stopped asking. Soon, you weren't spending many nights together. He'd stay up late working on music or you'd stay out late drinking. Like everything else, it eventually came to a head.

"I think I'm going to Beaman next week," you told him while getting ready to go out one night.

He was in the shower. He was staying in. "Why?"

You furrowed your brows toward the shower curtain. "I haven't been back in a while. My mom's birthday is at the end of the month."

"Alright," he said over the sound of rushing water.

"Do you want to come with me?"

For a moment, only the shower made a noise. It didn't even sound like Alex moved an inch. You stared at the shower curtain and thought he might pop his head out. But he didn't and you didn't move to open the curtain either. Finally, he answered, "No, no. I think I'll stay here. Jamie's coming into town soon."

You thought about fighting it or asking him if he was going to do anything with Jamie, instead, you said, "Okay. I'm leaving now."

"Alright," he said, "Have fun. I love you." He never came out from behind the curtain. When you came home he was asleep.

Upon your return from Iowa, Alex picked you up at the airport. The car ride home was pleasant and he made dinner. You were scraping your fork along the plate when he asked, "Would you ever want to live in Iowa again?"

You snorted at the ridiculousness. "I left home when I was 18 and have only lived in New York and LA. Does that strike you as someone who wants to move back to the Midwest?"

Alex shrugged and thoughtfully looked down at his nearly empty plate. "I just never knew if you thought about it."

"Are you thinking about it? About England?" You leaned on your fist, eager for the answer.

He shook his head. "I'm just homesick, I guess." He then stood up and took his plate to the dishwasher.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You shouted into the kitchen.

You awaited an answer from the other side of the wall. You heard the dishwasher shut and his feet pad across the wooden floor, he stopped in the archway, facing you. With certainty, he said, "I'm happy here."

You stayed seated. "Would you want to move back?"

He looked unsure but answered, "I don't think so."

"You can be honest," you assured him. "If you think I'm worried or going to shoot it down. I mean, I'm not saying yes, but if you're thinking about it I think we should talk about it."

He shook his head. "I'm not saying I want to be here forever and maybe that's something we should talk about since..."

"Since?" You questioned, clueless of where his words were leading.

Alex laughed at you, turning away, not bearing to make eye contact. "Since we're us. You and me."

"I'm confused," you said, crossing your brows. "What's this have to do with England?"

He laughed again, nerves tackling him. "We're not just fooling around here anymore. This direction..." He motioned a straight line and though you were catching on you still wished to hear him talk in full.

"This direction?"

He rolled his eyes with a smile, exasperated by your questioning. "Look, we've talked about it."

You playfully raised an eyebrow. "It?"

He wagged his finger at you. "Quit playing games with me here."

"Oh," you nodded enthusiastically, "the marrying me thing. You talk around it like it's a curse word."

"'Cause it makes me nervous." He played with the ends of his hair as a soothing mechanism.

You shifted forward, leaning your head onto your hand, resting it on your knee. You genuinely asked, "Why does it make you nervous?"

A nervous smile played at his lips as he calmly said, "Why the fuck do you think?" He laughed, feeling overwhelmed, both of you.

"You tell me," you egged him on.

Alex threw his head back, exhausted from you toying him. "You do the laundry. I know you've been in my underwear drawer."

You giggled, remembering the sight. "Well, you put it in your underwear drawer, how cliche are you?"

"At least I didn't do my sock drawer!" He shouted, trying to insist he wasn't such an idiot. "I didn't think you'd go digging around in there."

"Hey!" You assert. "I didn't find it. It found me."

You both laughed and soon the room fell quiet. "Hey," you said. "You got me a princess cut." It was dainty like you wanted, no giant diamonds, and no uncomfortability. A simple, classic look. He did good.

He kept a small smile, despite both of your racing hearts. "Well, that's what you wanted."

You grinned back, sitting up straight, and leaning your side into the back of the dining room chair. "You got my ring size right too."

He raised his eyebrows. "You put it on?"

"On my right hand that way I didn't break any rules."

Smiles were plastered on each of your faces. "Should I just go get it?" You'll probably cry if he does go get it.

"Yes. And yes to your next question too."

"I haven't even gotten down on one knee."

You shook your head. "You don't have to get down on one knee."

"I want to." He does. And the ring fits just as well on the left as it did on the right.

Just like moving in, being engaged isn't that much different either with the exception of getting your mother off your back and a nice new piece of jewelry. Alex enjoyed calling you "fiancée" when introducing you.

You started to go out less but when he did he came more often. It was a non-verbal comparison and with a new album on the horizon, you started to stockpile time together. Any wedding talk was limited but agreed upon to take place after the tour so you could enjoy married life together. Alex also heavily enjoyed the in-between state of being engaged and what you thought would be the dull before the actual excitement of marriage, turned into its own new game.

You accompanied him more on tour, mostly because it was much longer this time. You joined him for branches, attended the US shows, made him shave his head in Texas, and made your way over to London. There were bigger breaks this time with things not packed so closely together. You spent Christmas in Iowa with Alex for the first time. You went to Hawaii for his birthday. You went bowling for Valentine's Day.

When the tour ended and there was an actual wedding to plan, everything felt stuck. It was either too cliche or too underwhelming. It became easier to just get married and worry more about planning a party. So, you got married at a cute small inn with sycamore trees with a small number of guests. Those who would be willing to sit through a wedding without getting antsy.

The reception party grew in numbers and the loveliest part is you didn't have to worry about cleaning any of the mess up. Alex got cake on his suit and you went to the bathroom more times than you can count. But overall, it was a simple, sweet night.

Honeymooning (fucking) in Fiji and then resuming life two weeks later. "Wife" became Alex's new favourite word but everything else stayed the same. Well, for about a month.

You just had a feeling. You woke up one day and felt it. You nudged him awake, it was early before the sun was up. "Alex."

He hummed in acknowledgment, shut-eyed.

You burrowed into him and nonchalantly said, "I'm pregnant."

"What?!" His eyes were wide and his face wrinkled in confusion. "Seriously? When did you find out?"

You flopped onto your back, turning your head to the side to look at him. "Just now. I can feel it."

"So, you feel like you're pregnant?" He questioned.

"Yeah."

"But you don't know it. You didn't take a test?"

"No, but I know. I'll take one in the morning, I just wanted to let you know. Night." You turned over into your pillow and closed your eyes.

Alex sat with his mouth agape. "Yeah. Night." He didn't fall back asleep.

And you were right. You shrugged and said, "Told ya." Alex laughed. Then, he cried. Then, he hugged you. Then, he kissed your stomach, but you thought that was too weird so you told him to stop.

Being pregnant definitely changed things but things felt the same just with one more thing. You fucked. A lot. Your sexual appetite increased but you had always been horny for Alex. It's just a given. But there was a point where things did change.

It was the first ultrasound. You felt it when you entered the room. The air was cold and there was a shift, everything suddenly becoming real. You enjoyed watching Alex twiddle his thumbs while you waited for the technician.

When they started to move the wand around your stomach, he became fascinated with the machine, continuously asking questions. More of them were about the machine rather than the baby.

And, well, then the whole twin thing happened.

"Like two of them?" Alex held two fingers up like he couldn't quite comprehend it.

The technician nodded and you still couldn't think of a verbal response to the news.

Then, Alex said, "We've been having a lot of sex, did we like make another baby when we—"

You interrupted, "Are you the dumbest person alive?"

Alex pinned the ultrasound to your fridge and kept a copy in his wallet. He held an affection for it that you didn't. Maybe because you were the pregnant one. The proof came attached to you. Nonetheless, you were charmed by Alex in his fatherly role, even if he stressed you out with the need to be super-ultra-prepared. His nervousness about what you could and couldn't do got annoying by the second month. He calmed down after you yelled at him.

Although, it was nice for him to take on the extra work. You picked out the design for the nursery and he did all the work, citing that you couldn't paint because of the toxic fumes and everything was a heavy load.

He knew you were full of bullshit but he didn't care. "I like helping out. Being the man in charge."

You told him not to get too full of himself. His insistence on doing everything led him to break his index finger.

But after everything had healed and two babies became two girls, you both relaxed into your final months of solitude, which really just meant lots of sex. You fucked and he went down on you but sometimes you felt too sore down there from all the pelvic pressure and though Alex insisted that no sex was fine, you insisted that release was release, even if it wasn't your release. Alex still fondled your breasts too, saying that's where all his horniness came from.

"How can I not be turned on when they're just staring at me?" They were bigger and Alex was always insatiable.

"I feel like a cow," you whined. You were bigger with two babies and the only way you did have sex was doggy style with everything hanging.

"You're not a cow," Alex said, climbing into bed. You were under the sheets, exhausted at 9 PM. He curled up behind you, whispering in your ear, "You want me to fuck you on your side?"

You thought about it, felt the ache, and said, "Okay."

You were already underwear-free because they hurt your vagina too much when you slept. You had returned to your old days of quickness. Alex pulled himself out of his boxers, gave himself a few pumps, and slid into you. You softly moaned as Alex pushed into you slowly at first before his thrusts grew quicker. He knew you were tired and needed a quick release.

"Fuck," he harshly whispered as his speed picked up, skins slapped, and sweat beads formed. He clutched your hipbone tightly and you fisted your pillowcase. Every action rushed and a final slam resulted in you falling apart and him emptying into you. His hand caressed up your bump and you knew he was very turned on but the whole pregnancy sex things and not just because of the boobs. However, he did love those too, and gave them a quick squeeze before cleaning up.

The final change came in an expected way. Labour was shorter if only for the epidural and the C-section. You wanted to resist the idea until the thought of pushing two babies out set in and the pain became too unbearable and Twin A was breached and then a C-section seemed like the best thing, even if it was surgery.

Alex liked wearing the medical gear and kept adjusting his mask. Oh, Alex, sweet naive Alex. Luckily, everything was smooth, except for the fact you couldn't hold the babies until they had sewn everything up. But Alex cut the umbilical cord and got to hold them, which was a sweet enough sight.

When you were placed in recovery and finally got to hold them, then came the hard part. "What do we name them?" You asked.

Alex shook his head. "I got no fucking idea." Names had been discussed but you never really landed on one let alone two. "You should name them. You carried them and they're getting my last name."

"It's too much pressure," you whined.

Alex sighed and concluded, "Thing 1 and Thing 2 it is then."

Eventually, you decided on Wren and Willow. You initially hated the shared first initial but Alex liked it and it became too frustrating to think of any other names.

The first month was harsh. Your body was slowly healing and you ached all the time. You had backup with both sets of parents but then everyone went back home and everything shut down and it was just you, Alex, and Wren & Willow. It didn't actually feel like much had changed. It's not like you would have left the house anyway.

Alex takes to having the girls nap on him. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes both. Sometimes he will let you nap in his arms too. The days are long but the weeks move fast.

One day, Willow laughs. It's the first time either of them has laughed. It took you both by surprise. You were feeding Wren while Willow laid on her back with Alex loomed over her. Usually, when he would blow raspberries on her stomach she would just gurgle and flap her arms and legs around, but this time she laughed, and it’s the loudest sound you've ever heard.

Alex looked down at her, completely engaged, not bearing to take his eyes off, scared to miss the sight. It gets him laughing too with tears in his throat. He leaned down again and blew more air against her tummy. She shrieks this time, giggling, and you want to capture the sound forever. Run and have Alex record it.

But you looked down at Wren and rubbed your finger against her tiny baby cheek, deciding that there was no need to move from this comfort.

They aren't easy babies. There are two of them too. They both wake each other up, which means both you and Alex have to get up because it's 2 v. 2 and they're small but mighty. They eventually get on a sleep schedule and a routine and trade-off between you and Alex is set into place.

By the end of the year, it's the new normal and you don't remember a time when they weren't around. You want to be with them all the time just like you want to be with Alex all the time.

They're great. But then they wake you up at 3 AM.

a/n: so...this slowly became a prequel to my dad!al fic and i decided to just finish it that way. i also have not read through it because i'm tired so any mistakes you did not see.

#alex turner fic #alex turner x oc #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #alex turner #alex turner smut #junedenim

202 notes · View notes

hannieoftheyear · 1 month ago

Text

everybody gets horny on christmas (lsm)

santa's lap becomes the best place to sit when it's seokmin's face hiding behind the beard

✧.* pairing: santa!dk x fem!reader (check out the halloween chapter!)

✧.* w.c: 5k of pure filth

✧.* genre: smut!!!, crack, a little fluff sprinkled at the end, kinda pwp, there's barely a plot but hey (minors DNI)

✧.* content: santa d(ic)k, milfs go crazy over him, slight jealousy, everyone has a severe case of horniness again, cursing, both 'bad girl and 'good girl' are used, santa roleplay (?) just for a bit, explicit smut, service top!seokmin, pussy drunk!seokmin, fingering, oral (f rec.), multiple orgasms, bodily fluids, they do it on a chair, protected penetration (santa uses condoms✊ and so should you).

✧.* disclaimer: this is the christmas part 2 of the halloween au with the same name (linked above), it can be read separately but there's going to be a little context missing.

✧.* note: i just wanted to say that i wrote this for fun and is really truly unserious, and also apologize bc i suck at writing dirty talk :/ but hope you enjoy!

also i have a final in two days so wish me luck (and pray for me🙏)

special thanks to sabrina carpenter and her 'fruitcake' ep | link to the dividers used

The smell of baked chocolate chip cookies and freshly cut pine trees sneaks past the automatic doors every time a new family enters the mall. All of them are in search of the new hot spot in town.

Even if the tradition of making kids sit on Santa's lap is terribly outdated, the kids lining up on the makeshift north pole on the center of the mall don’t seem to care, happy to be surrounded by the Christmas atmosphere and to meet Santa.

The long line decreases gradually, kids leaving with the biggest toothy smile every few minutes, and their parents ready to figure out what they asked for.

It’s the happiest season of the year, when everything seems possible, when kindness and friendship rule everyone’s relationships. That’s primarily the reason why you’re even in the line in the first place. Your friends dragged you to see the ridiculous suit Seokmin had to wear for his new job and make fun of him a little, all while showing up to support him.

“Is it just me or is the line full of single moms?”

Standing all the way on the back of the line, your friends are analyzing the people waiting while you’re just looking at them, eyes switching from each man to the next in a matter of seconds, tapping one foot on the ground with no patience and avoiding to look at the man working as Santa.

“Why are you so fidgety?” Soonyoung’s the only one who’s not checking out every person in line.

“I’m not! I’m a little tired that’s all, I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Surely this doesn’t have to do anything with our friend Santa Claus, right?”

“I just don’t wanna be seen in this line full of kids. It's embarrassing.” Avoiding the question won’t work, but it’s all the defense you have at the moment.

“No one here cares, and Chan’s right. The moms are going crazy over our Seokminnie.”

Following Mingyu’s eyes, your gaze sits on a blonde lady standing right beside her kid, who’s already sitting on Seokmin’s lap, but the mom looks more interested in asking him questions than the little girl.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

The way your arms cross immediately is a dead giveaway that it actually bothers you, and by that time, your three friends are staring at you, expecting a reaction.

“You two have been weird since Halloween.” Chan, not so innocently as it seems, brings back the topic you so badly want to avoid.

“What do you mean? We're not being weird. Everything’s the same.” You protest.

“Yeah, except for the fact that you had his dick in your m–"

“Oh my fucking God, shut up! There are kids around!”

Your whisper-shout draws more attention than Soonyoung’s statement, getting you a few weird looks from the parents behind you on the line. He not only has no filter but also lives to torture you since that day.

“Shit, I still can't believe they really did it.” Mingyu talks more to himself than to you, and that’s weirdly offensive?

“I’m standing right here!”

“Is it big? He never lets us see it.” Soonyoung shamelessly asks, without an ounce of embarrassment.

“I can’t believe this.”

Your only option is to look away from them, meaning straight to Seokmin, right when a lady attempts to sit on him “jokingly” while security –a minimum wage worker dressed as an elf, asks her to leave.

“Bro, c’mon what the hell.” Even Chan has a limit of Soonyoung’s unserious thoughts he can hear.

“What?”

Mingyu shakes his head in awe, not even answering Soonyoung’s question before going back to interrogating you.

“Did anything happen after that?”

The line moves forward, and in that second, when everyone’s focused on taking two steps, you seriously consider running away from the mall at full speed.

“It was just a one-time thing, no big deal.” Maybe the cold wind entering through the doors can serve as an excuse for how red your face is probably getting.

“Yeah, sure. You know, every time your name comes up and you’re not there, he starts shivering like a chihuahua.”

“You two stay over a five feet radius away from each other at every party we go to.”

“I saw how you reacted the other day when that girl was all over him at the sorority party.”

“Are you all analyzing our every fucking move?”

Maybe it’s been weird, but for them to notice even when they’re drunk means you’ve been doing a very bad job at hiding it.

“We’re just worried about you both, that’s all.” Mingyu softly puts his hand on your shoulder, and you truly believe his words.

“There’s nothing to worry about! We talked about it, and everything’s cool. Now, let’s leave the topic to die here, alright?”

The silence is so loud, it’s obvious they still have questions, and it’s obvious you’re not gonna answer them. Not when the line starts moving forward again, and suddenly you’re one family away from being the next to be called on by the elf staff.

Seokmin's eyes find yours just as the kid hops off his lap, smiling brightly at his parents and leaving the mall altogether. You’re frozen in place, and Soonyoung behind you is whistling teasingly as one of the staff repeatedly asks you to step forward. They were right. You are being weird. It is weird. But because they don’t know the whole story.

A hand pushes your back slightly to the front, and you see yourself walking towards the hottest Santa you’ve ever seen. The loose red suit makes his frame appear impossibly broader, and he’s manspreading in a way that has your heart pounding.

“W-welcome young lady.” Seokmin stutters in his Santa voice, forgetting his signature ‘ho, ho, ho’.

One look back at the line, and you’re already regretting it. Your three friends are looking in your direction like you’re Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams on the verge of making out. But just to their right, the staff looks at you, bored and tired, almost screaming at you to hurry the hell up.

Your legs tremble as you finally sit on Santa's lap, and the energy radiating from him is breathtaking. Something about you being visibly flustered must elevate his confidence through the roof, because as soon as you’re on top of his thighs, one hand places itself softly on your back, and the other teasing on top of your thigh, not outrageously high, but high enough that you know it’s on purpose.

“What does this young lady want for Christmas?”

The voice he’s been practicing comes out squeakier than he'd like, your arm wrapped around the side of his neck, causing unpredicted consequences.

“I'd like for my friends to stop being so annoying.” Jokes are always a good way to lessen the atmosphere, right?

“Have you been a good girl this year?” Seokmin's hand tightens on your thigh, erupting a fire on parts of your body that shouldn’t be getting woken up in public. “Only girls who behave get their presents.”

The lower part of his face is covered by an ugly synthetic white beard, but something in the sound if his voice tells you there’s a growing smirk on his lips, hiding, teasing you in front of everyone. It would be so easy to just yank the beard off and wipe that smirk off his face, press your mouth against his until neither of you are able to breathe.

“Santa should give presents to everyone.” It’s a miracle that you’re able to form one coherent sentence.

A low chuckle escapes from him, and the feeling that he’s still not finished with you creeps up your spine, goosebumps appearing up to your neck as his face gets close to your ear.

“Only the ones who didn’t behave say things like that.”

His arm around your waist makes you hyper aware of everything around you. Or more like him so around you.

“The guys have been asking questions.” Another try to ease the tension that quickly proves to be pointless as Seokmin seems to be on a mission.

Your eyes don’t know where to go, staring at his focused gaze on your lips. His face gets ever so slightly closer to yours, the little hairs on your cheek perking up at the sensation, all while his hot breath fans over the side of your face, and his hand holds your jaw as his thumb grazes the apple of your cheek, brushing an eyelash with so much care, you almost melt right there on his lap.

“Let them ask.”

At the end of those simple words, his eyes connect with yours, and his stare brings a new meaning to what he said, one that begins heating up your insides and blushing your whole face. Your brain works hard to produce any kind of response, but Seokmin has rendered you speechless.

A soft cough drives his eyes away from you, and his hold on you shifts uncomfortably, like he’s just now realizing he’s in front of at least fifty people. The elf handling the line taps his foot impatiently against the floor, his arms crossed and rolling his eyes as both you and Seokmin look at him incredulously.

“Come have dinner at my place.” Seokmin whispers as you motion to get off of him.

You instantly miss the warmth of him below you, sturdy and holding onto you for dear life. You can only nod with a quiet ‘okay’ as the staff rushes the next kid onto Seokmin’s lap, your friends nowhere to be seen.

Why does your hand tremble as it reaches the door handle when you’ve done it a ton of times already?

Seokmin had sent you a cryptic text right after the disastrous meeting that had your friends bullying and interrogating you all the way back to your home, about him leaving his door unlocked and letting yourself in, eliciting at least ten questions from your part, but he remained silent after his instructions. Now, you’re left expectant as you nervously talk yourself into opening the damn door. No suspicious noise can be heard from outside, and as you turn the handle and push the door open, the warmth of recently lit candles envelops you.

“Seokminnie?” The smell of the promised food welcomes you in as you close the door behind you.

The shy steps you take into Seokmin’s apartment after hanging your jacket provide you with a slightly better view of the Christmas themed dining room he’s set up, and from the corner of your eye, you catch a red human figure sitting on one of the chairs, intimidating you as you realize what it is.

“What are you still doing in the suit?” You ask with a chuckle.

“Come here.”

He signals for you to sit on his lap, manspreading on the wooden chair as his body calls your name. The cheap plastic beard is nowhere to be seen, but he’s still wearing the weirdly nice fitting suit, burning red just like the fire heating up the room the closer you get to him.

“You know, the guys are catching up to us.”

It’s much more comfortable to be alone with him, sitting on his lap and letting his arms wrap around your waist as tight as he wants. You don’t fight the urge to connect your mouths together, not letting him reply to your statement as you press your lips against his, and he doesn’t even attempt to tease you, molding his shape to yours, holding your chest close to his with no way to escape.

“Yeah, they’ve been interrogating me too.” Seokmin replies, half of his brain paying attention to you and the other half concentrating on squeezing your thighs.

“We sh-should do something.”

Getting lost in the feeling of his lips is too easy, erasing any stray reasonable thought from your mind. As his hands hold and touch any part of your body they want, be it your arched back, your chest or your thighs, and his tongue licks your lower lip like he wants you to go insane, you moan against him, and he takes it as a reminder of why he asked you to come to his apartment in the first place.

“Hmm, you’re not behaving much, aren’t you?”

You almost let out a chuckle as he strays his face away from yours just as one of his hands creeps up your inner thigh, squeezing to draw your attention where he wants. But he doesn’t go any nearer to where you’re starting to need him the most.

“Does that mean you’re putting me on the naughty list?”

Nothing you say when you’re on top of him is embarrassing, you’ve learned, as Seokmin seems to like every sound that comes out of your mouth regardless. His hand trembles at your words, instinctively daring to graze the crevice of your inner thigh before moving away from your legs altogether.

“Between us,” he says, voice low right by your ear, “I think I can give you another chance.”

“Really? What should I do?” You don’t dare move in his hold, his thighs hard under your expecting ones.

Seokmin refuses to let you connect your lips, drawing back with a smirk when you try. The hand that’s still on your body caresses the side of your cheek, so softly you almost hum as you lean into his touch. His fingers trace your jaw down to the side of your neck, and you have no other choice than to flutter your eyes closed and enjoy his teasing.

“Be a good girl while I do what I want with you.”

His lips graze your ear again, going down to leave wet kisses on the side of your neck as his hand continues to travel down the side of your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps under his cold fingers.

Your mouth agapes, wanting to say something, anything, but he reaches the hem of the jeans you decided to wear, and only a sigh leaves you as his fingers sneak under the fabric, touching from your back to your lower tummy as he sucks on the sensitive skin of your neck.

“What do you want to do with me?” Your words come out completely breathless, and he chuckles against your skin.

Wordless, his reply comes in the form of his hands at both side of your hips, lifting you up easily and sitting you down on the empty chair, his body kneeling in front of you in one swift move. Somehow, your jeans hang loose around your legs, already unbuttoned, and he yanks them down expertly.

Seokmin’s eyes, wide open in marvel, scan over your bare legs, with goosebumps erupting from top to bottom at the sudden loss of the warm fabric. His head in between your open legs, almost naked only for him, just like your every fantasy since that first time.

“I once promised you,” His lips graze your left knee as he speaks, hot breath against your cold skin sending shivers up your spine, “that I’d make you feel good.”

“You’ve been very bad too.” You remember exactly the promise he had made, and remember every time you’ve been together since, never fulfilling it. “I thought you’d forgotten.”

He shakes his head quickly as a reply. “I can make it up to you,” Seokmin’s soft slender hands massage your thighs open, slotting his torso in between them like that space was made for him, “but you have to be good for me.”

His breath fans so close to your already craving core, he could purse his lips and they’d make contact with your covered folds, but he sways ever so slightly to the side, leaving a chaste kiss on the crevice on your inner thigh, a thousand miles away from where he knows you need him.

“What do you want me to do?” Your fingers interlock with his as he continues groping anywhere his hands manage to go, pressing them harder against you in search for more of his touch.

“Take what I give you.” He sneaks under the hem of your panties, barely grazing at your sensitive skin, with feathery light touches and teasing scrapes of his nails as he slips the wet fabric down your legs.

“You’re not giving me anything right now.”

The cold air making its way over your core contrasts with the heated blush Seokmin’s eyes erupt all over your body as he stares in awe at your wet folds.

“So ready for me." A hum reverberates to mix with his words, and his approval sends a wave of arousal straight to your center.

Having no other thoughts, you can only half-moan and nod at his words, locking eyes with him as he leaves a trail of kisses on the soft flesh of your inner thighs, each one closer and closer to your pulsing core, but as he's about to graze your lower lips, he skips your heat and directs his mouth to your other leg, never ending the teasing.

Your legs open further on instinct, as if to persuade him into pleasing you once and for all. His fingers dare to spread your folds, the wet sound reaching your ears, his shy touch making you squirm on the chair. Something tells you that asking him to speed up won’t help you, so you only move one hand to the back of his neck, caressing his nape to encourage him.

The first lick of his tongue comes as a surprise, long and pointy right at your center, and the hand that was resting on his neck pulls at his hair, making him groan and sending vibrations through your whole body.

Seokmin knows exactly when to slow down, licking your cunt up and down and sucking just where he knows you’ll like. Your insides clench against nothing, empty and leaking arousal as his lips wrap around your clit. But he drinks all of your juices, his tongue collecting your wetness like a dehydrated man.

With his tongue focused on your hole, prodding timidly inside you as your walls beg to be stretched, your hands fly to his hair, keeping his face in place as the tip of his nose brushes your clit just right. He moans right into your cunt, enjoying the pull of his hair as you use him for your pleasure. Your throat hurts from moaning uncontrollably as your orgasm approaches at the speed of light.

Not even in your imagination would you have pictured yourself getting so worked up so fast by a man going down on you, but that’s just Seokmin, being gentler and more skilled than most, eager to find every stop that has you squirming on top of him.

His hands try to keep your legs open for him as you spasm with each swipe of his tongue, getting faster and faster the more he notices how close you are. And as he focuses his all on teasing your clit, you come undone at the rhythm of his moans against you.

He makes out with your pussy mercilessly, prolonging your orgasm and making your legs tremble harder at his sides, almost closing around his head if it wasn’t for him holding them where he wants. The unholy wet sounds don’t stop and waves of arousal keep crashing down on you, the big smirk across his lips can be felt even through the filthiness of the act, and when he doesn’t move away when you start feeling overstimulated, you finally find your voice again.

“Hmm, Minnie, god.” Cracked and hoarse, it’s a miracle he even heard your words. Your hands try to push his head away, but one look into his eyes, and the motion stops immediately.

“You promised you'd take everything.” The fingers that were holding onto the flesh of your thighs sneak to your wet, still sensitive center, collecting any remaining juices Seokmin didn’t get to drink.

“Fuck, yes, I did.” Even a bare graze of his fingers has you breathless, ready for more in an instant.

“Do you still want it?” Somehow, his doe eyes mix with his teasing glare, pretending to ask when in reality he knows your answer.

“Yes.” One-word replies might be your best option to answer him, as moans and whines get stuck on your throat at the motions of his fingers, spreading your wet folds open and teasing your needy hole. “Please.”

“Good,” without any more warning, Seokmin plunges two fingers inside you, receiving no resistance, “it’s my job to give my good girl anything she wants.”

His hand begins working towards filling you up, molding your gummy walls to the shape of his fingers. Wet sounds fill Seokmin’s dining room, the food he prepared cold and forgotten in the kitchen, and the only other sounds echoing are your breathy moans and his occasional grunts.

Seokmin’s tongue goes back to its place, torturing your clit as his fingers find your sweet spot, abusing it as you feel yourself getting wetter, if even possible. He thrusts harder, sharper, drilling into you and making your arousal drip onto the wooden chair.

The red of his hair stands out tangled between your fingers as you try to press his face impossibly closer to your core. He moans in response, as if being pressed in between your legs is more pleasurable to him than to you.

Locking eyes with him below you, the blushy filthiness of it all mixes with the oversensitivity from too recent orgasm, getting you close to another one faster than ever before. It’s too much, but you crave more, need more, and your walls clamp against Seokmin’s fingers, making it harder for him to pound them into you, but he persists, with pointy and determined thrusts that form stars on your vision.

A whiny scream erupts out of you as he sucks on your clit, everything combined blurring every one of your senses and causing spasms all across your body as you come on his fingers.

The sinful sight of Seokmin licking his fingers clean is forever burned on your eyelids, and will hunt you even in your sleep. But before he has the chance of slipping his tongue between your folds again, you stand up and force him to sit down on your place.

“It’s my turn to give now.” He just stares at you, brow lifting teasingly, waiting for your next move. There’s so much you could do, but the throbbing between your legs calls for only one thing, sitting in front of you. From the new angle, the outline of his very hard cock outshines the rest of his body, the thin red fabric loosely sits over the boner he doesn’t even try to hide.

In what feels like a millisecond, you yank his pants and boxers down in one move, freeing him from his confines, but deliberately leaving the top of his costume on.

His bare skin below yours, as you sit down on top of him, legs at both sides of his hips, feels so hot you almost don’t feel the drop in temperature in the room. His hard length springs up against your lower belly, furiously pink and ready for whatever.

Your mouths crash in need, his hands on your back flushing you against him as your hands push his head further against you. It’s hard and needy, passionate as he always is, but somehow determined and not sloppy.

The frenetic closeness traps his cock between your bodies, a never-ending friction as you grind against him. The top half of your clothes are still on the way, the hands creeping under the hem of your shirt indicating he wants yours off immediately, but refuses to let go of your lips.

“Tell me you have a condom.” You manage to mumble with his mouth still gliding over yours.

A ruffle sound echoes from your side, Seokmin’s hand searching eagerly around his pocket for what you asked. You’re not about to question if he had a condom there all day, just go on with it.

You reluctantly separate your faces, both of you in a rush, nearing the desperate territory, to have him inside you. He throws his head back as your hands slide the condom down his length, the touch of your hands too much for him to handle. His hands grip your hips in an effort to help you lift your body, lining your entrance with his leaking tip.

The mix of his spit and your arousal makes it easy for him to slide all the way down until you’re sitting on top of him again, his length stretching you just perfectly. You both take a second to breath as you get used to being filled completely, molded to his shape already.

“You always take me so well.” He moans as he dares looking you right in the eyes.

Only a smirk shows on your face as an answer, your hands moving down to open the red jacket he’s still wearing, unbuttoning it one by one and letting yourself feel his abs tensing under your teasing touch. Slowly but surely, his whole chest is finally revealed to you, but his hands refuse to leave your body, and the top half of his suit stays on.

His hands on your ass press your body against him, inciting you to start moving before he loses his mind.

With your hands on his chest for support, you start grinding on him softly, feeling the veins of his cock dragging inside you at a tortuous pace. Seokmin knows no restrain when he’s inside you, so he groans and moans at every clench of your walls, unknowingly succeeding in making you do it more often and into speeding up the pace.

His hands eagerly creep inside your shirt, crunching it up like he desperately wants to see you bare on top of him. As soon as it’s off, his hands are on your tits, groping them as if it was his first time seeing them.

He grinds against you, following your rhythm and speeding the rush of both of your highs. Your walls tighten hard around his cock, feeling him twitching even through every move.

A loud moan gets out of you when his cock reaches that spot inside you that takes you to another dimension, and he immediately presses your lips together, a messy and wet make out that does little to muffle both of your moans.

The chair creeks below you as you test its limits, but it’s the least of your worries when he starts lifting his hips to meet you, the strength of his thighs even making you bounce on him slightly.

When one of his hands leaves its place on your chest to sneak between you and torture your clit even more, a guttural moan leaves you. He doesn’t stop, his thrusts getting as hard as possible as he chases your orgasms.

Walls already sensitive from your previous highs, and your swollen clit getting stimulated more and more, there’s only so much you can take before you start trembling on top of him.

Your third orgasm crashes over you hard, blurring any other sense that isn’t Seokmin’s cock dragging inside you.

And there’s so much tight clenching of your warm walls around him that he can take before he’s coming into the condom, twitching uncontrollably and slowly stopping his shallow thrusts.

Your lips come together once more, soft and lazy as you come down of your highs.

There’s a comfortable silence surrounding you. Even after you’ve both cleaned up and dressed up again, you find yourselves back on the same position, you sitting on his lap as he softly traces circles on your back, your breathings coordinated as you enjoy each other’s warmth.

“Do you think we should tell the guys?” Your whisper breaks the silence, the uncertain question making Seokmin’s ears perk up.

“I thought you didn’t want them to make fun of us.” His head lowers to look for your eyes, but you’re insisting on looking down.

“I know I said that but,” the sentence gets cut short, doubt and fear creeping up on your mind, but his hand comforting you encourages you to keep going, “today, you sounded like you don’t care.”

“Would it be bad if I didn't?” His sweet voice finally drives your eyes up to his, and the smile across his lips is big enough to make you melt.

“I– No, actually–“ You really try to say something that isn’t a mumble of nonsense, but it’s impossible. The matching smile plastered on your lips gives away how you feel, and he helps you gather your thoughts.

“They’re gonna be worse than ever.” Seokmin states.

You nod, holding back a cackle.

“But it’s nothing we can’t take.” He continues.

“Yeah, right.” You agree, even though a with a little doubt.

“It’s us two against them.”

“Right.”

“We can destroy them. "

“Exactly.”

“And do you want to be my girlfriend?”

The back and forth almost makes you answer automatically, and when you realize exactly what Seokmin was asking you, you freeze. Mouth agape and wide eyes, it’s not like you would ever say no to him, but he has taken a liking on taking you by surprise.

Your silence freaks him out, but as you straighten your posture on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, you reply, “I’d love to be your girlfriend Lee Seokmin.”

His toothy smile widens impressively, his eyes curving like crescent moons right before he connects your lips again.

It’s different from before, a new feeling mixed in with the moving of your lips, welcomed fully as his hands caress your back again, with so much care you'd think he was afraid.

But that’s just who he is, who he always was. Your friend Seokmin. Your caring and loving Seokmin. Your boyfriend Seokmin.

heyyyyy happy holidays to everyone! hope you enjoyed this! ♥︎

lmk if you'd like another part! I love this couple, and I'm not opposed to writing an Easter chapter of this series :D

#seokmin au #seokmin smut #dokyeom au #dokyeom smut #seventeen smut #seventeen au #svt au #svt smut #svt hard hours #seventeen hard hours #dokyeom scenarios #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom imagines #seokmin x reader #seokmin imagines

95 notes · View notes

pinkrose787 · 6 months ago

Text

I'm seeing that a lot of people are not liking the way that Dev lost his memories in the finale, but I think I understand where the writers are coming from.

First of all, the show is not over (hopefully). I think the writers wrote this finale with a second season in mind. This means that the story that they're telling is not completely done.

When it comes to Dev's story in the first season, I think that him losing his memories does make sense. Losing memories as a result of misuse of magic or revealing fairies has been brought up over and over again in the series. And Dev did both, on top of taking over Fairy World.

Now could Hazel have included Dev getting his memories back?

Yes, she could have.

But that would have been unsatisfying narratively.

Just before Dev loses his memories, he has a conversation with Hazel. He acknowledges that he knew helping Cosmo and Wanda save Fairy World would cause him to lose his memories and his fairy.

This is actually a major step forward in his character development. I think this is the first time he really takes accountability in the show. He did something bad and now he has to deal with the consequences. Having him keep his memory would erase that.

Also, I don't think Hazel was going to wish his memories back at all. He tried to take over two separate worlds. He threw her friends in prison. Cosmo, Wanda, and Peri almost died in front of her because of his actions. So, can she really be blamed for wanting her rule-free wish to be used on getting her friends and brother to keep their memories of fairies rather than Dev?

As for the complaint that he's losing all his memories and thus character development, I don't think that's right. When it comes to losing memories of magic, I think that the memories are merely modified in a magicless fairyless way. Think the trolls modifying Anna's memories in Frozen, so that she still remembers playing in the snow with her sister, but not the fact that her sister made the snow with her ice powers.

There's a bit of evidence for this at the end of "Channel Chasers". Timmy sees Cosmo and Wanda in the photo as regular gold fish rather than fairies shapeshifted as goldfish. Also, fairy godparents are such a big part of a kid's life that losing all memories even tangentially related to them would be problematic to say the least.

I don't think that it's unlikely that Dev will regress a bit as a character as a result of this change to his memory. Maybe he'll write off what happened in Fairy World as a weird dream, but still have it in the back of his mind.

And who knows? Maybe the theory about Dev keeping his memories, at least partially, due to his sunglasses is true. We're going to have to wait

So, remember, the story isn't over.

#fop spoilers #fop a new wish #fop #fairly oddparents #added a readmore because this way longer than it was supposed to be #dev dimmadome #hazel wells #cosmo cosma #peri #poof #wanda fairywinkle cosma

106 notes · View notes

hugmekenobi · 8 months ago

Text

S3: The Bad Batch (11)

Chapter Eleven: Point of No Return

Gif by @moonstrider9904

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: The Empire closes in on you and the Batch

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, threats, food mentions, flash of PDA and fluff in the beginning, referenced character death, rip a certain ship :(, self-blame, brief injury mention, humour as a tool for deflection, overall angsty vibes

Word Count: 4.2K

Author's notes: Still sticking very close to the episode here but hope it's still enjoyable and episode 12 is in progress!!

Getting into the pirate’s ship had been all too easy. He wasn’t going to fail this time. CX-2 decrypted the coordinates before he put the transmission for Scorch through, “The Trandoshan’s intel paid off. I tracked the pirate and accessed her navicomputer. She tried to cover her tracks but I broke the encryption.”

“What did you find?”

“She frequented a planet in the Outer Rim. I’m headed there now to do recon.”

“Send the coordinates. I’ll have a full division on standby if you require a visual on the targets.” Scorch provided before he signed off.

CX-2 entered the coordinates for Pabu.

“That’s gotta be all of it, right?” Wrecker asked in disbelief as he saw the three of you approach and unload the next round of supplies.

“We still need to grab the rations.” Hunter told him. “Keep loading up the ship. We’ll be back.”

Wrecker groaned, “Fine. But at least bring me back an ice cone.”

“Just one?” You questioned with an enticing grin as you walked backwards away from him and the ship.

“No, no, no. You’re right! M-Make it two!” Wrecker corrected his error.

You gave a two-fingered salute in reply before you turned around and jogged to catch up with Hunter and Crosshair.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.” Lyana said lowly as she led Omega through the Archium.

“Me too, but Hunter thinks it’s safer for everyone if we do.”

Lyana led her over to a gap in one of the ledges. “What do you think of this spot?”

“It’s perfect.” Omega said with a thankful smile.

“So, which treasures did you bring?” Lyana asked, her tone curious but respectful of what this moment meant to those that left things here and Omega would not be treated differently.

Omega tucked Lula under her arm and brought out Tech’s cracked goggles. She held them delicately in her hands as she let the memories that they brought wash over her.

“You sure you wanna leave these behind?” Lyana double checked gently.

“Pabu was the first place that felt like a home.” Omega placed both objects down with the utmost care. “This way, a piece of us is still here.”

Lyana laid a supportive hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Well, I’ll make sure these stay safe until you come back.” She looked at Omega with a new type of seriousness. “Because you will come back, right?”

“I hope so.” Omega replied, the harsh reality of the day quickly catching up to her as she realised this would be the last time she would see her for a while.

“And where are you going?” Hunter asked with a questioning smile and tilt of his head as you separated from them. “We’ve got rations to get.”

You feigned disgust at the very idea. “Hey, I have the very important ice-cone mission. I cannot be diverted with a mere ration run.” You said with a coy grin before you pressed a swift kiss to Hunter’s cheek and sauntered off with exaggerated determination.

“Get that lovesick smile of your face before I throw up.” Crosshair snickered with a roll of his eyes as he saw the way Hunter watched you go.

“Shut up.” Hunter shoved his brother’s shoulder before they carried on with their own search.

“I don’t even think there’s room on this ship for all this gear.” Wrecker complained to Gonky as he saw all that was still to be shifted and he knew there was still more to come. However, Gonky’s cheeky honks of reply were not the commiseration he was looking for. “Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I should leave you behind.” He retorted, smirking at the offended honks he got in response.

Wrecker brought more of the stuff on board, completely unaware that the proximity sensor had been flashing a half second before.

CX-2 landed the ship in the cavern and began his hunt.

Hunter paused as he heard the nervous squeaking on the island birds, their tone matching his own growing sense of unease.

“What is it?” Crosshair asked.

“Not sure, but I don’t like it.” Hunter brought out his comm. “Omega, time to go.”

Upon hearing that, you gave up your spot in line and joined up with Hunter and Crosshair. You’d make it up to Wrecker another time.

CX-2 scanned the bustling market stalls from above and that was when he caught sight of the two clones and the targets he’d been sent to acquire. He touched the control panel on his sleeve and got Scorch on his comm.

“Report.” Scorch demanded.

“I’ve got eyes on the targets.”

“Ground them and wait for the division. They must be recovered unharmed. No mistakes this time.”

“And the clones they’re with?” He asked as he saw the group of you leaving the area.

“If they get in your way, eliminate them.”

“We’re sorry to see you go, but you’re all welcome here anytime.” Shep said sincerely. “Those homes will be waiting for you when you get back.”

You bowed your head in gratitude.

“Thanks for everything, Shep.” Hunter said, shaking his hand.

Omega and Lyana shared in a hug.

“I’ll see you soon.” Lyana said as she parted from Omega.

The four of you and Batcher started to make your way back to Wrecker.

The sun had almost set by the time Wrecker finished getting the most recent batch of supplies onto the ship, but he just took relief in the fact that he wouldn’t be alone in shifting the next round of gear.

As he went to grab the last crate, he paused on the steps as he picked up on a faint but rapid series of beeps.

He recognised the sound.

He knew exactly what that meant.

He reacted quickly and with a shout, he abandoned the ship and grabbed Gonky just as the Marauder exploded, hurling both of them into the sea.

With the last of his strength, he managed to pull himself onto a piece of debris before his vision went dark.

Upon hearing the harsh echoing boom of an explosion, you all instantly ran to the edge of Upper Pabu and your heart thumped in a frantic panic as you saw the distant flames and charred remnants of what was once the Marauder.

Hunter brought out his binoculars and took in the scene. He saw Wrecker and Gonky floating in the water and felt his own panic set in at seeing his brother unconscious. He put on his helmet and started running for the docks.

You did the same with your coverings and Crosshair put on his helmet before the three of you followed close behind.

One of the locals had grabbed a boat and brought Wrecker and Gonky back to port.

You pushed your way through the crowd of people and stopped short as you saw Wrecker’s body.

Omega knelt down by Wrecker’s side. “Wrecker? Wrecker!” Omega gasped, desperately shaking his shoulders to try and rouse him but it did no good.

Your stomach dropped to your feet. It took all the training you had to not lose control upon seeing the lack of response from Wrecker. He was strong, he was always so strong. He had to be alright.

“Mox and Stak, take Wrecker to Shep’s. Deke, get Az-3 to patch him up, and fast.” Hunter ordered the regs. He needed his brother back on his feet. He needed him to be okay.

“Ships don’t just blow up. We’ve been compromised.” Crosshair realised.

Hunter turned his head from Wrecker to the sound of a deep rumbling from above and what he saw sent both a deep anger and dread through his veins. The Imperial Star Destroyer hovered above the Archium and a series of gunships swarmed down. “Everyone, get to cover!”

Amidst the crowds of panicked and screaming people, the four of you regrouped and found cover of your own.

Shep was helpless to stop the hordes stormtroopers from moving in. He could only watch in despair as his people ran in fear.

“Cut off all escape routes. Destroy any ships or sea skiffs in sight.” CX-2 ordered as he remained unphased by the chaos around him. It wouldn’t affect what he needed to achieve; it would only help.

You and Omega both paused as you saw the destruction the Empire was causing to the docks.

The only light in the night were the fires caused by the Imperial gunfire.

The only sounds the whirr of gunship and cried of fear that echoed around the island.

Kamino, the Marauder, Pabu… How many more homes was the Empire going to take from you?

From these innocent people?

And how much longer could you let it go on?

A glance down at Omega told you she was thinking similarly to you. You indicated your head back and you both joined the others in an alleyway.

“Is this our fault? Are they attacking because of us?” Omega whispered up at you as she kept Batcher calm.

You wished with every fibre of your being that you could tell her no. That they were the ones at fault but the own guilt residing in your heart made the words die before they left your lips. How could you reassure her when you couldn’t believe the words yourself? It was never meant to go this way. The very thing you had wanted to avoid had happened and now you knew there was only one real way out of it.

Hunter crouched down. “It’s the Empire’s fault. Not yours. You have to stay focused. Both of you.” He implored with a helmeted look in your direction too.

“They’re destroying all means of escape and jamming our comms.” Crosshair said as he tried his comm, but it was only static. “We have to steal one of their gunships. Once we’re out of range, we can contact Echo.”

“I’ll handle it.” Hunter said. “You three, get to Shep’s and wait with Wrecker until I signal you.”

You caught his vambrace and pulled him back to you. You pressed your forehead against his helmet.

Hunter had a distinct and sinking feeling that this was you saying goodbye, but he wasn’t going to let that be the case- this plan would work… it- it had to. “I’ll see you soon.” He said as he stepped away.

You couldn’t quite meet his helmeted gaze as you nodded before you, Omega and Batcher split from him to head to Shep’s.

Hunter gave Crosshair a last meaningful look before he went in the opposite direction.

Crosshair knew what that look meant- keep them safe. And he would do everything in his power to do that. He followed you and Omega.

“Lock down the town. Search every domicile until you find them.” CX-2 ordered the squadrons of troopers.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Shep demanded as he approached the black-armoured soldier that seemed intent on ruining the lives of so many people.

“Who are you?” CX-2 replied with equal parts disdain and curiosity.

“The mayor of this town. You’ve opened fire on my village and its people without warning and without reason. Under what pretence are you attacking?” Shep seethed.

“We’re here to collect some fugitives you’ve been harbouring.” CX-2 brought out the puck and flashed the two images.

Shep made sure to keep his true reaction at bay- he wouldn’t give you and Omega away if he could help it. “You can’t just barge in here-”

“I’ve barely done anything yet.” CX-2 interrupted coldly.

“You destroyed our docks and fishing skiffs. Our livelihood.”

“I have simply cut off their means of escape. But I can do worse. I know they are here. Until they are turned over to me, your island will burn.” CX-2 threatened as he walked away.

The path to Shep’s had been fraught with troopers and each time like this where you had to hide from the next roaming patrol only slowed things down more.

You peered round the corner of your hiding spot to see one of the villagers being forced out of her home and you heard her distressed plea.

“You can’t do this! It’s our home!”

You were fighting the urge to go out and it seemed Batcher also shared in your current sentiment as Omega was doing her best to keep the dog quiet and calm.

And the cruel reply from the trooper that you heard next only confirmed what you already dreaded.

“We know they’re here! Where are the Jedi and the girl?”

“I don’t know! I swear-”

The familiar sound of a slap made your blood boil. You went to reveal yourself to stop them but Crosshair’s hand on your arm prevented you from doing so.

Omega couldn’t hold Batcher back though. The dog snarled and charged for the soldiers before they could do anymore harm.

“Batcher can handle herself. Let’s go.” Crosshair said to you both as he made sure Omega didn’t go to follow the dog either.

You had managed to scale the wall up to Shep’s and opened the door.

“Lyana!” Omega said with a relieved gasp.

“Omega! My-My dad, he said to hide here.” Lyana said fearfully. She ran up to her friend and hugged her tight, “I’m so scared.”

“I know. I’m so sorry.” Omega replied as she parted from her.

You and Crosshair took off your coverings as you saw AZ attending to Wrecker.

“How’s Wrecker, AZ?” You asked.

“He is still unconscious, but his vitals are stable.”

You allowed yourself to feel some semblance of relief at that, but you hastily pushed it to one side as you heard another gunships sound outside.

The three of you ran back out to take in what was happening and what you saw made your chest tighten and curl your fists in rage- stormtroopers were everywhere, removing people from their homes, tossing them to the ground, arresting them. It was unnecessarily cruel, and it was all because you were still here.

Getting onto the gunship had started out as a stealth mission but quickly became one where Hunter just had to get inside without getting shot.

He’d managed to do so but the pilot was making his life extremely difficult with erratic flying designed to fling him out. He had to take a tight grasp of the handles inside to remain upright.

Something else then caught your attention as you saw the unstable and irregular flying patterns of an Imperial gunship and a whole different kind of emotion swept through you. You knew the exact cause of that particular situation, but you were not reassured by the sight in the slightest.

“Is that, Hunter?” Omega asked both you and Crosshair as she noticed the ship in the air.

“Yes.” You said through clenched teeth.

“Uh huh.” Crosshair echoed nonchalantly.

But then, something shifted, there was a blaster shot and vessel nosedived down towards the sea in a way that showed that neither Hunter nor the pilot was in charge of the ship anymore.

A strained breath caught in your throat as you watched the ship plummet into the sea. “Where- where is he?” You choked out as you saw Crosshair grab his macrobinoculars.

Crosshair scanned the water anxiously but let out a relieved sigh as he saw his brother resurface and swim for the shore. “He’s fine.”

You bent forwards as you braced your hands on the wall and let out a slow calming breath before the distant sound of comm chatter reminded you of your current situation.

“He’s safer than we are at the moment.” Crosshair hissed as the three of you retreated back inside Shep’s.

“What do we do? Troopers will be here soon.” Omega asked anxiously.

“Hunter would want us to stick to the plan.” Crosshair replied, internally scrambling to think of a way out of this.

“There’s no hiding, Crosshair. The Empire knows we’re here. They won’t stop searching until they find us!”

Whilst they were talking, you were coming up with a plan of your own. If you handed yourself in and convinced them that you’d already shipped Omega off-world, then maybe they’d leave Pabu and the rest of them alive and in peace.

You glanced between Wrecker and Lyana and the door. You took a calming breath as you came to terms with what you had to do but a squeeze of your hand brought your eyes downwards. No. You said as you saw her nod at you.

“You promised.” Omega reminded you.

This is different, Omega. It’s not a choice you should need to make. It-

“You’re going, I know you are!” Omega interrupted. “But that won’t be enough, they’re here for me too! They won’t stop and you know it. It is my choice!”

Crosshair clued in and realised what the two of you were arguing about. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s our only option, Crosshair.” You said heavily.

“What? No, it’s not. We-”

“Look at what they’ve already done.” You said, a flash of anger coming through. “We can’t let the people here suffer any more because of us. That’s why we were leaving in the first place- to avoid this. We can’t let it carry on. We just can’t.” I’m not risking anyone else. Wrecker already got hurt, I’m not risking you and I’m not risking Hunter. If I could help it, Omega wouldn’t be coming but I can’t and it kills me that I can’t, but it’s how it has to be.

Crosshair went to respond to you, but Omega got in first, “If we let them take us, it stops.” She emphasised.

Crosshair focused on the young girl, distress in his voice. “You’ll be taken back to Tantiss.”

“Exactly. We’ve been trying to find those coordinates, and nothing’s worked. But if we keep our comms on us, and turn ourselves in, you can track us to Tantiss. This is our chance. Our chance to finally rescue the clones imprisoned there.”

“No. They’ll search you and find it. It won’t work.” Crosshair argued.

“Then shoot a secondary tracker onto the ship that they take us away on.” You suggested.

“Too many unknown variables. It’s not a viable plan.”

“It’s all we’ve got.” You countered.

“And it’s our choice.” Omega reminded him again.

Crosshair looked imploringly in your direction now. “Tantiss is different. This isn’t some random Imperial that’ll take you this time. It’ll be Hemlock. Who knows what he’ll do to you there.”

You also saw a genuine fear behind his eyes, and it unnerved you. It won’t be for long, I’ll be alright. “Focus on the bigger mission, Crosshair.” You said aloud and you came to stand behind Omega and rested your hands on her shoulders.

“Yeah, we’re just a small part of it.” Omega agreed.

Crosshair found himself in a position where he was forced to reflect on that, and he had to agree with you both.

The two of you got ready to depart but you noticed the reluctance that still graced Crosshair’s face and you approached him.

“He’s going to kill me.” Crosshair said to you quietly.

So, tell him he was right that Hemlock was after me too, that outta smooth things over.

“It’s not funny.” Crosshair snapped. He didn’t want to lose you both either. Not when he knew how important you both were to Hunter, to this squad… to this family. He’d finally made ground with you, you were one of them, you always had been, and he’d welcomed that feeling again. And Omega, well, Omega had seen and been through it all with him already, he owed her much more than a half-baked rescue plan.

Yeah sorry, it’s a bad habit. You went serious again and shook your head. “He’s not going to do that, Crosshair. Six months ago, maybe he would’ve, but not now. He’s not going to lose the progress he’s built with you either, not anymore. He’ll understand.” You glanced back to Omega who was standing by the door and regret stabbed your heart over the fact that this was to be her fate too, but you also knew that she wouldn’t have it any other way. “We’re very stubborn and determined individuals.” You said fondly before you looked back at him and placed a reassuring hand on his upper arm. “Just don’t miss.” You said with a light but resigned smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

With that, you and Omega exited the hut.

You caught Omega’s shoulder just before you rounded the corner to make yourselves known. You crouched down to her eye-level. “Omega… you know if there was any other option that I could think of that would get us- particularly you- out of this, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

Omega nodded. “I know, but it’s what we have to do.” She said bravely.

Your heart broke a little bit more right then and there- this was something no kid should ever have to do, “You had to grow up far too fast.” You murmured, both with sadness and a hint of pride in your voice as you gave her a loving hug before the two of you stepped out of your hiding spot.

“Stop.”

CX-2 signalled the troopers with the flamethrowers to disengage as he heard the voice of a woman.

“We surrender.” Omega said as all eyes, both Imperial and Pabu civilians turned in your direction.

“Stay alert. I neutralised the other two clones with them, but not the third.” CX-2 advised as he approached you two.

“Take us and leave the island alone.” You said as you held your wrists out.

“The people here are innocent.” Omega did the same thing as you.

CX-2 first put the cuffs on the young girl, “Then you never should have come here in the first place.”

“I’m assuming these are the special cuffs made just for me?” You said dully as the operative attached a second pair to your wrists, and you noticed the slightly different design of them compared to Omega’s.

“Why don’t you try them and find out?”

The harsh modulated voice sent a cold shiver of fear down your spine, but you covered it up. “Nah, you seem like someone who is on top of things, so I’ll take your word for it.” You were determined to not flinch under the unwavering glare of his helmet.

“Scan them for tracking devices.” CX-2 ordered as he confiscated your knife and Jedi weapon.

As expected, the comm devices were picked up immediately.

“Give them to me.” CX-2 demanded.

You and Omega reluctantly handed them over before you were both shoved and made to walk between the squadron of troopers as they got ready to transport you off the planet.

Crosshair had watched the surrender take place and had been stealthily tracking and making his way to a vantage point where he could tag the ship that you were to be taken away on.

Hunter staggered to shore and collapsed to his hands and knees.

He felt the water seeping through the gaps in his armour, weighing him down, and it was choking him beneath his helmet.

He removed it and took a few recovering breaths before he became alert to the sound of rustling just ahead of him. He instantly got to his feet and guardedly drew his blaster as he waited for the threat to show.

But he was able to relax his stance as Batcher came into view and ran over to him with a happy bark. He bent down and rubbed her side with a slight grin before he glanced up at the Archium and the rest of the island, but he didn’t see as many ships anymore.

And the realisation at what was about to happen hit him harder than he had hit the water.

Hunter grabbed his helmet and started running back, Batcher close at his heels.

You swallowed thickly as you and Omega were marched to the docks and forced to walk past the wreckage of both the sea skiffs and the Marauder.

CX-2 tapped the band on his arm and his ship came flying to meet the three of you.

You and Omega paused before boarding but an insistent jab of the butt of the operative’s rifle prompted you both to step up.

Crosshair got into position and readied himself to take the shot when the flashlight hit him.

��Over there!”

He fired back at the small squad of troopers that had found him and dealt with them as quickly as he could, but the interruption had moved him out of the prime position.

He had to run for it.

His gait was rushed.

His aim unsteady.

But there was no more time.

The ship’s engines were powering up.

He had no choice but to fire.

The ship took off.

His tracker missed.

And he could only look on in complete and utter dismay and horror as the ship flew out of view.

“Targets acquired. Returning to base.” CX-2 transmitted before he put the ship into hyperspace.

You and Omega sat side by side on the metal floor.

Omega took off her hat and leaned against your shoulder. “We’ll have each other there.” She murmured, doing her best to keep her voice composed.

“Yeah, we’ll be okay.” You whispered back.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @arctrooper69, @dominoeffectsworld, @andreaaxy, @notgonnaedit, @nightmonkeysstuff , @jellybeanstacey0519 @callsign-denmark @allthingsimagines, @superbookishhufflepuff

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #tbb s3 #hunter x reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x fem!reader #hunter x female!reader #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #friends to lovers #star wars #angst #fluff

113 notes · View notes

devoutekuna · 8 months ago

Text

Babyshower

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

"What's the point in a stupid Babyshower?" Stuffing his face with sugar cookies decorated like teddy bears since those were the chocolate ones. He was laid out on the floor with you sat beside his head, trying to figure out how you were going to cut the cake since it was 3 tiers, he personally didn't care how it was cut as long as he got some, having 3 separate layers for each of your favourite flavours, that's how thoughtful he was without showing it, it matched your dreams in a Babyshower cake the pink and blue ombre decorating the layers. "So we can find out the gender!" Picking off a fondant decoration which was sin the way, passing it to him. "No kidding." Annoyed with how you pointed out the obvious. He had kicked all the guests out just so you two could have this special moment to yourself.he wasn't a fan of your friends, always plotting to eat them if you dropped them.

"Hurry up woman" cutting the cake for you with his cursed technique, a slice falling perfectly onto the plate, revealing the icing colour as he passed it to you. It took you a few seconds to realise what he had done but looking down at the colour only made you squeal.

Nanami-

"Here" handing you the knife as he sat down next to you. He baked a vanilla rectangle cake for the gender reveal. "Thank you" nodding in response. Despite baking the cake he was still in the dark about the colour since he got someone else to do it. "Actually, pass me the cups" motioning towards the wine glasses. After passing them he leaned on your shoulder, feeling the frame of his reading glasses dent into your arm. "Ready?" "Yes" digging into the corners of the cake to reveal the pink/blue icing. "Guess we're having a girl/boy" he didn't seem happy to someone else's eyes but since you knew him best, he didn't show much emotions.

Geto-

Alcoholic and non alcoholic drinks all around as he celebrated the gender of his baby soon to be revealed. "When you want to do the cake, tell me." Arm around your shoulder, kissing your miserable face. "I'll kick them all out" he hated the fact that he had to invite some of his followers and your friends and family. But he was on cordial terms with them even if it was one-sided, he couldn't invite any Jujutsu sorcerer friends you had, as they were enemies.

"Sorry about that love" kissing your cheek once again, seeing how much happier you were after they all left. Knife already digging into one side of the cake. "It's fine" cutting him a slice of cake, the baker had made it so the cake only had white icing inside, but cupcakes ontop held the secret. "There's no colour Y/N" confused as to why it was neutral. "Take this then" teasing him coming to an end as you picked off one of the cupcakes. Gracefully biting off one side, only to reveal the icing filled inside coloured.

Gojo-

"If it's a boy we should name him Satoru JR, or if it's a girl we should name her Satoshi!" Slapping the back of his forehead as you heard how he wanted his kids to carry atleast some resemblance to himself, they already get some of his name with the surname 'gojo' become a hyphen to yours. "I'm not naming my kid after you" biting into a cupcake to reveal nothing but white icing, the baker had done it so that you two had to guess which one had the icing in. "Why? I've got a beautiful name" taking another cupcake just to reveal more white icing, you two were getting down to the last 5 cupcakes, him having accidentally eaten some whilst the guests were still here. "Yeah but I'm not naming my kid after you, end of" he was getting on your nerves at this point with his ego. "Fine" sighing in defeat, he loved to get on your nerves but stopped since you got pregnant, afraid of causing an premature birth.

Stuffing a cupcake fully in his mouth, he was supposed to ake a bite then show you. "Satoru!" Scared that he may have messed it all up if he ate the one with colour in, "What?" Mouth stuffed with cake as he asked, resting his arm on your shoulder, as he tried to comfort you. "What if that was the one?" "Then it was, the past is the past baby" kissing your teeth at his response, oh how you hoped that it wasn't the one.

"Look Satoru! It's blue/pink" shaking him as you showed him, white icing decking your bottom lip as you licked it clean off, too excited to care about your appearance.

Toji-

Laid out on the sofa wearing nothing but sweatpants, he couldn't be bothered to put on a shirt. Placing the tiered cake on the coffee table, neutral themes to keep you both on your toes as you knew he'd try and guess what gender it was by the way it was decorated. "What are we doing, normally or that thing you wanted to do?" He was very attentive when it came to you, always noticing small details, especially since you have been watching so many videos of couples using wine glasses to take a bite. "Cups" smiling at him, grabbing your waist as he brought you closer, fingers tracing the side of your baby bump. Handing him a cup, bringing the cake closer. "Go on" he couldn't even hide his excitement, face plastered with smiles as he watched you reveal the gender, pink/blue frosting peaking out from the side of the cup.

#geto fluff #gojo fluff #toji fluff #sukuna fluff #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #sukuna ryomen #geto suguru #gojo satoru #nanami kento #jjk drabbles #jjk x reader #jjk #𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚎𝙺𝚞𝚗𝚊

108 notes · View notes

zegrasdrysdale · 1 year ago

Text

[ impossible ] t. seguin

day eleven of malia’s christmas fic marathon

paring : Tyler Seguin x fem!reader

summary : (Y/N) is surprised when ex boyfriend Tyler knocks on the door of her parents’ house on Christmas Day

warning(s) : angsty, but nothing besides that

author’s note : last two fics of the christmas marathon. let’s do this

༺═──────────────═༻

She has never been happier to be home in Toronto. (Y/N) loves living in Dallas, but the last few weeks haven’t been the best. Being surrounded by family should help her out of the post-breakup funk she’s been in recently.

Even now as she's sitting in the living room with her family in her Christmas pajamas and opening their gifts, she misses Tyler. She misses her old life with Tyler, but she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't keep doing the distance.

He was away more often than he was home. When he was home, he went out with his teammates after games or on off days. She'd often go weeks without seeing him because he'd stay over at a teammate's house.

She wasn't equal with hockey anymore. Not like she used to be. She got tired of it.

She never gave him an ultimatum because she could never make him choose between her and hockey. (Y/N) made her feelings known and Tyler didn't seem to care, so she has been living with her best friend in Dallas and came home for Christmas a week ago. She stopped answering Tyler's texts and calls so she hasn't even talked to him in nearly two months.

Her family doesn't notice that something's wrong. (Y/N) does her best to keep a smile on her face and interacts with her nieces and nephews as they open their gifts. No one has asked where Tyler is and she is very much grateful for that.

As (Y/N) opens a gift from her mom, there's a knock on the door. Her mom goes to answer it as she opens the box that contains a Dallas Stars customized jersey that has her last name above the 91. "Tyler!" her mother shouts from the front door. "It's so nice of you to join us. We didn't think you'd be joining us."

Her head snaps toward the door so quickly that she thought for a split second that she gave herself whiplash. She's very surprised to see her ex standing at the front door of her parents' house in Toronto.

"I needed to go see my parents before coming over," Tyler says as he looks right at (Y/N). "Sorry I'm late. I forgot how insane Toronto traffic can be."

Words cannot express how angry and annoyed she is that he is at the door. She thought that he would've gotten the message that she was done when she didn't talk to him for two months.

Apparently not because there he stands in a Stars hoodie and plaid pajama pants with a bag full of gifts at the front door.

She gets up off the floor and pushes Tyler out the door without a word to anyone. It closes behind her, leaving the two of them alone in the cold Toronto air. Snow is on the ground and she's outside in a tank top, fuzzy pajama pants, and slippers. (Y/N) can't even feel the cold because of the fact that she is fuming.

"You have no right showing up," she spits at him. "We haven't spoken in two months and you show up at my parents' house."

Tyler blinks and says, "Last time I checked, you're the one that stopped talking to me. I don't remember being told that I wasn't allowed to come to Christmas because you stopped answering my texts and calls."

"We're done, Tyler," she tells him. "In case that wasn't clear."

"You're done," he retorts. "I'm not. I don't understand why you just up and left."

"I told you why!" (Y/N) practically shouts. "You're gone for weeks at a time, Tyler. The only time I get to see you is when we're separated by a thick piece of glass while I'm sitting in the stands and you're on the ice. You used to spend off days with me, you used to come home to me and we'd watch a movie on the couch or in bed. Then you decided to go out after every game or go out on off days."

He runs a hand through his hair and says, "I am a leader, (Y/N). I was never around my team. I needed to show them that I am still a leader and I couldn't do that when I was cooped up at home with you. You knew what you were getting into when we started dating and all of a sudden, you can't handle it anymore?"

Anger courses through her veins. Her blood is boiling to the point where the snow might melt around her. "No," she retorts. "I can't do it anymore. You used to make time for me and now you're a ghost. I was living in a shell of our past life together while you seemed to be moving on. I was alone in that apartment. It was like I didn't have a boyfriend anymore. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal if I left."

A look of hurt flashes on Tyler's face. "Of course it would be a big deal if you left," he softly says. "I love you. I miss you."

She shakes her head and does everything she can to keep the tears from spilling over to her cheeks. "You didn't listen," she tells him. "I told you how I felt and you still went out that night after the game. I made the decision to leave because I knew that if you went out after I told you how I felt, you'd keep going out. I couldn't do it anymore."

Tyler frowns and says, "I went out to tell the guys that I wasn't going to be going out as much with them after games and on off days. That is the only reason I went out. I was gone for thirty minutes. When I came back to the apartment and you were gone, I realized that I didn't tell you that I'd be right back."

"I- you-" she cuts herself off when she realizes that if she had just stayed around for an hour, he would've been back. "Why didn't you just text that to me?"

"I thought that you'd be back," he admits. His eyes fall to the ground. "I didn't think you'd ignore me for two months. I didn't think it would take you a half hour to pack a bag and leave. I should've told you that I'd be right back."

A tear slips down Tyler's cheek. Her own tears begin to fall when she sees Tyler's tears. "Tyler, I'm so sor-"

"It's not your fault," he interrupts her. "Don't you dare apologize. We wouldn't even be in this situation if I had just realized how lonely you were or if I had just told you that I would be right back. I'm sorry. I know I probably shouldn't have come up here to try and fix things but I couldn't let you spend Christmas thinking you did something wrong when you didn't."

She takes a few steps forward and wraps her arms around his torso. Tyler's free arm wraps around her shoulders as she buries her face in his chest.

They've both done a lot wrong the past few months, but all they can do now is acknowledge what they've done wrong and move past it.

Hopefully Tyler's season can recover too because despite not being together, (Y/N) did keep an eye on his stats. He really began to fall apart a week after she left the apartment and has never been able to get it together.

That's all on her.

"Sorry your season has gone to shit," she sniffles as she looks up at him. "You can blame that on me."

Tyler shakes his head and cups her jaw with his free hand. "I'll never blame how good or bad a season is going on you," he tells her. "That will never be on you.'

A gust of wind blows and she shivers. Tyler wraps his arm back around her shoulders and holds her close to him. "I'll blame myself enough for both of us," she says. "Can we go inside?"

"As long as you're not done," Tyler replies. "I came up here to fight for us and I won't go inside unless you tell me that we can go back to how things were, minus my going out all the time."

(Y/N) looks up at him and nods. "I'm not done," she practically whispers. "Even when I said I was done, I don't think I actually was. You're impossible to move on from, Tyler Seguin."

He smiles and leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips. He hums and pulls back. "God, (Y/N)," he says. "Your lips are so cold. Let's go."

She lets out a light laugh and walks into the house with Tyler in tow.

Everyone looks at the two of them as Tyler pulls off his hoodie and pulls it over (Y/N)'s head since they were outside for fifteen minutes talking in freezing temperatures. "Everything okay?" her mom asks. "You guys were outside for a while. I thought I heard yelling."

"Everything's okay," she assures everyone in the living room. She goes back to sitting on the ground and Tyler sits next to her. He takes her hands in his so they warm up. She leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder. "We're okay."

That was more for Tyler than anything. He kisses the top of her head before he starts to hand out the gifts that he brought with him for (Y/N)'s parents and siblings. She watches them open their presents with a smile on her face.

Then Tyler holds a little present in front of (Y/N). She slowly takes it and looks up at him. "What is this?" she asks.

"Now that would ruin the surprise," Tyler teases. "Open it and find out. I know technically we weren't together when I bought this but I knew I wanted to buy it for you."

She unwraps it and opens the little black box. There's a silver ring that sits inside with a 91 in little diamonds on it. Her jaw drops and she looks up at her boyfriend. "You really went all out even though we weren't together," she gasps.

Tyler grabs it out of the box and takes her right hand. He slides the ring on the ring finger. "Wanted to make sure that everyone knows who your boyfriend was when we got back together," he replies. She admires the ring on her finger and Tyler kisses the ring.

(Y/N) smiles and leans against him to watch the last few presents get opened.

It finally feels like Christmas now that Tyler is here. It didn't feel like it until he got here because they have spent the last three Christmases together.

Despite being angry that he showed up, she's very happy he's here now.

༺═──────────────═༻

MAIN MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

wanna be added to the taglist ? fill out this form !

taglist : @dasiysthings

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #hockey blurb #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl blurb #tyler seguin #tyler seguin x reader #tyler seguin angst #tyler seguin fluff #malia’s christmas marathon

172 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months ago

Note

aita for not saying goodbye to my friend

me and my friend have known each other for a very long time but i fear that it was mostly due to our proximity growing up. i moved to where i am when i was around 11 and he was also 11, and we are 19 and 18 now.

when we were younger our personalities meshed well, and i am grateful for him being my first friend here. however as we have grown up i feel that we are just growing into two separate people. he has said some kind of passive aggressive things to me and generally i feel like hes started to think lesser of me, especially in our friend group where i have long suspected that i am the general least favorite. i don't think there's anything specific i ever did to piss him off but he has acted annoyed towards me sometimes without any real reason, but i depended on him to get to school in our senior year and he has been there for me for years and years, and i would hate to have just cut him off and leave him behind, erasing all our history. however he has not exactly been the most caring to me, but he still says i'm his best friend for reasons i can't possibly explain, since i know that's not true.

here's where i may have been an asshole. i left for college in fall last year and didn't really say goodbye to anyone, including him (he stayed home for the year, along with a couple other friends anyway). it wasn't because i wanted to ice anyone out, but i felt it wasn't worth making a big deal because i don't like making big deals out of the things i do, and making the rounds just to say goodbye for school felt like too much. however i also didn't really think he would care, considering that he would favor our other friends over me even when it was an event related to me (i had a terrible 18th birthday party where i was largely ignored but thats a different story).

he texted me months later, like sometime in winter, how he felt that it was really cold of me to not say goodbye because we're supposed to be best friends, and that it made him really upset that i left without a word. this text made me feel annoyed but i didn't accuse him of anything i explained above (i didn't want to get into all of that) but simply said i didn't want to make a big deal of it. i ended up apologizing even though i didn't mean it at all, but i can't help but wonder if this was actually shitty of me or if i'm just making a big deal of this specific incident.

aita?

#aita #am i the asshole

50 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 1 year ago

Text

bad idea, right? ~ joseph quinn

word count: 2789

request?: no

description: yes, i know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect?

pairings: joseph quinn x female!reader

warnings: swearing, rpf

masterlist (one, two, three)

semi based on this song

We didn't intend on reconnecting. It was a complete accident. A coincidence, even. We were both out with our friends at the same bar. It had been months since we broke up, and it was one of my first outings post-break up. Despite the fact that the relationship hadn't ended poorly, it was still hard to process. I spent a lot of nights crying to rom-coms with my friends afterwards.

I didn't expect to see him there. Actually, for once, I had fully forgotten that Joseph even existed. I was just excited to be out for the night, to have a good time with my friends.

It wasn't even me who saw him first. One of my friends, Fiona, who is incredibly sweet but also incredibly lightweight, gasped and leaned towards me to ask, "Isn't that Joseph?!"

Lynn, my best friend, elbowed Fiona as I whipped around to see where she had been looking. As she said, there he was - the beautiful, chocolate button eyed man I had been in love with for so long. He hadn't seen me yet. He was at the bar with a few of his friends, sat around and chatting. My heart started to pound as I turned back to my friends.

"Do you want to leave?" Lynn asked.

"No," I said. "I let him keep me from having fun for long enough. I'll just...avoid him as much as I can. Maybe he'll do the same if he sees me."

Lynn gave me a skeptical look, but decided to respect my wishes.

For the most part, the plan was a success. The girls and I moved to the dance floor once we all had enough drinks in us, and Joseph became a distant after thought.

That was, until I stumbled off the dance floor to get myself some water. I could tell that the alcohol was starting to get to me in a way that I would regret in the morning if I didn't try to sober up a little bit. I pushed through the crowd at the bar and asked the bartender for an ice water. I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings as I waited, until I heard a familiar voice say, "(Y/N)?"

That voice sobered me up better than any water could.

I turned to see Joseph stood basically right next to me. He looked as shocked as I felt. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Luckily, the bartender gave me my water, so I used that as an excuse to try and get away.

"Wait!" Joseph said, reaching out to grab hold of my arm. He quickly let go just as soon as he grabbed me. "Sorry. I just...I didn't expect to see you."

"I didn't expect to see you, either," I said.

"Are you...here with anyone?"

I knew what his question meant, and I was a little surprised to hear him ask. "Just my friends. Lynn and the girls."

Is that relief I see on his face?"

"I'm here with the guys," he said, gesturing over his shoulder towards his friends. "I just got home from filming, they wanted to celebrate me being back."

"Aren't you tired from being away filming for so long?"

Joseph sighed, as if me asking him that lifted a weight off of his chest. "I'm so tired. I had such a long flight, too, but the lads wanted to go out right away because they're all busy the next few days."

"How long are you in town for?"

"Indefinitely. I have nothing else lined up right now until I have to do promo for A Quiet Place: Day One."

Why did I ask that? He's going to think I want to see him while he's home. I can't see him. We're broken up, I've mourned this relationship and let it go.

But have I? If I had, why did I ask him how long he's in town for? Why am I still here talking to him when I'm sure he would let me walk away if I tried to.

"It's good to see you," he said.

"It's good to see you, too," I said. I was surprised to find that I meant it, too.

We both stood in silence for a moment. I knew I should walk away, just end this whole interaction and go out separate ways. But my feet just wouldn't move. I just stood there, looking at him, every good memory I had from our year long relationship running through my mind. Despite my attempts to try to move on from our relationship the last few months, I was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to pull him in and kiss him.

"Can we meet up while I'm home?" he asked. "Just...talk about things?"

Bad idea! Do not say yes!

"Yeah, okay," I responded.

Stupid!

His eyes lit up. "Okay. Um, do you have the same phone number?"

I nodded, unable to form the one word response. He still had my phone number? I thought he would've deleted it, considering he was the one who ended our relationship. I still had his, but only due to the fact that I had memorized it. Lynn deleted his number from my phone, but I never told her I had added it back in about a week later after a particularly hard night.

"I'll text you tomorrow, yeah?"

I nodded again. He smiled and reached out as if he were going to hug me. He hesitated, so I closed gap instead, grateful for the contact.

I thought he wouldn't remember, so I didn't bring it up to my friends. I didn't even tell them that I had been talking to him. I figured it was just one time, one night of momentary happiness, before I fell back into the sea of despair over my ended relationship.

So, imagine my surprise when I got a text message the next morning that read, "hey, i understand if you changed your mind, but that offer to meet up is still open."

As you can probably imagine, Lynn wasn't happy when I told her.

"You what?!"

I winced. "I didn't think he'd remember! It was late enough into the night that I figured he was a few drinks deep, and by the morning he wouldn't remember even seeing me."

"So you're not actually going to see him, right?"

I looked down at my lap, unable to look her in the eye.

Lynn groaned, "(Y/N)..."

"I know, I know. It's a bad idea to go."

"It's a terrible idea! You're still trying to get over your breakup. Going to meet up with him is just going to open old wounds."

She was right, and I hated that she was right. I had this sliver of hope that maybe meeting up with Joseph would result in us rekindling our relationship, but I knew that was unlikely. Joseph had broken up with me months ago because of how quickly his career had suddenly taken off after Stranger Things. It was like he went from a low profile actor to one of the most sought after actors. First it was Hoard, which was filmed right after Stranger Things. Then he was cast in A Quiet Place: Day One, which was an insanely big deal. And then right after that was Gladiator 2, an even bigger deal.

Between filming and press tours, I knew I wasn't going to see Joseph very often. That revelation hurt, but I knew he was happy, and if he was happy then I was happy. I would push through the long nights of missing him, the mornings waking up and wishing he was in bed next to me, the lonely feeling in the pit of my stomach. All of it was worth it to see him thrive.

But, Joseph didn't see things the same way, apparently. Because, just before he left to film A Quiet Place: Day One, he sat me down and told me he thought it would be best for me if we broke up.

"I don't want you to always be waiting for me," he had said. "You deserve to be happy with someone who will always be around and can give you everything you want. And, with the way my career is going right now, I don't think I can be that person for you."

As much as I wanted this meeting to end with us getting back together, I knew it was highly unlikely that Joseph would've changed his mind. It had only been months, and he still had so much on his plate. Just because he was home now until he had to leave and do more promo didn't mean he suddenly was no longer busy.

Lynn was right, I shouldn't go to the meeting. It was a bad idea. But, at the same time, I couldn't bring myself to cancel it.

So, that's how I found myself in the coffee shop where Joseph and I had our first date, waiting for him to show up. I wondered if he had intentionally picked this place for us to meet, or if it had been a coincidence.

I wasn't sure which option would hurt less.

I looked up as the bell over the front door chimed, and the familiar face of the love of my life looked around the room. When his eyes landed on me, he smiled and made his way over to where I was sitting.

"Hey," he said as he slid into the booth across from me. "You're early."

"I wanted to make sure I got us a spot to sit. I expected it to be busier here today."

It was a Sunday afternoon, which I figured would be prime time for a coffee shop to be busy. Besides Joseph and I, there was only one other person in the place - someone who was typing away at a laptop a few tables over.

"I got you a coffee," I told him as I slid the cup towards him. "Your usual."

He beamed at me. "You remembered."

"It hasn't been that long since I was making you your usual," I reminded him.

He nodded and looked down at the cup in front of him. An awkward tension filled the air. I wondered if what I said was wrong. Should I have brought up our relationship? Were we going to pretend we hadn't dated for a year? That we hadn't talked about marriage and planning our futures together in that year?

"There's so much I wish I could take back," Joseph said, finally. "I wish I hadn't...I wish I hadn't been so stupid all those months ago."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He sighed, the air from his mouth disrupting the steady flow of steam coming from his coffee. "I thought I was doing right by you by ending our relationship before my career got so hectic. I thought...I thought it would've been better for you if you could be with somebody who didn't have to be away for long periods of time and leave you by yourself."

"That wasn't really something for you to decide, though," I pointed out. "Not without talking to me first."

"I know."

"You just ended our relationship out of nowhere. I thought everything had been fine, and then suddenly..." I trailed off, feeling a lump form in my throat as I remembered that day months ago. I shook my head, trying to hold back any tears. "It was like the whole issue wasn't even up for discussion. You had decided we were over, that was it. The end."

"I know," he repeated. "And, God, do I ever feel like such a fucking idiot because of it."

"Good. You should, because you were an idiot."

I didn't say it maliciously, and luckily Joseph picked up on that. He chuckled. "Yeah, I was a massive idiot."

There was another moment of silence. I raised my coffee cup to my lips, blowing on it a little before taking a sip.

"I don't suppose there's any chance at trying to start over?"

The coffee slipped down my throat the wrong way as I reacted to his question. I quickly put the cup down and coughed up the hot liquid. The person a few tables over looked at us, interested but uncaring, before turning back to her laptop.

"Are you okay?" Joseph asked, a light chuckle in his voice.

"You couldn't have waited until after I swallowed to ask that?" I retorted.

"Okay, maybe that was bad on my part, you're right."

Once I had finally finished my coughing fit, I cleared my throat and sat up straighter to look at him.

"Are you serious?" I asked him.

"About starting over?" I nodded. "I am serious. (Y/N), you have to believe me when I say these last few months have been hell for me, too. I missed hearing your voice every day, or seeing your texts come in. When I got word that I was coming home for an indefinite period of time, I almost called you to tell you on instinct. I made the biggest mistake by breaking up with you. I know that will never go away and it will likely always be something that hangs over us, but I would do anything to prove to you how much I do still love you."

I was so sure I was dreaming. There was no way this was real. This was exactly what I had wanted to happen, so surely it must've been a dream, right?

But the burning in my chest from swallowing hot coffee the wrong way told me I wasn't dreaming. Joseph was actually here, sat across from me and looking at me with those big brown eyes that I loved so much, asking me if we could try to start over in our relationship. Obviously, I wanted to throw my arms around him and kiss him and tell him that of course I wanted to get back together with him. This was all I had wanted for months since we broke up. But, the more rational part of me (the part that sounded like Lynn, actually) told me not to go there just yet.

"You really hurt me, Joseph," I reminded him.

"I know I did. I know I'm sorry isn't enough, but I am so sorry for doing what I did to you."

"If we are giving this relationship another shot, then you have to promise me that you will talk to me about this stuff before you make big decisions like that. I understand that you were trying to think of me in that moment, but if you had talked to me before deciding to just break up with me, I would've told you that I wanted to be with you even if I don't get to see you for long periods of time. I was so happy for you to be getting those roles, Joe. I was excited to hear the stories from sets and to get to watch you grow. The feeling of loneliness was a very small price to pay if it meant getting to see you be happy."

He looked away from me again. "I guess...I didn't really think of it that way."

"Because you were being an idiot."

He smiled. "Yeah, I was."

"A colossal idiot."

"A mega idiot."

"A mega, colossal idiot."

We both laughed then. Joseph's hand started to reach out towards me, but then he hesitated. I reached out the rest of the way and intertwined my fingers with his.

"Will you give me another shot, (Y/N)?" he asked again. "I promise I will never be such a mega, colossal idiot again."

I nodded. "Of course I'll give you another shot."

His entire face lit up with happiness. He squeezed my hand before tugging on it, pulling me a little closer as he leaned over the table to kiss me. It was only a quick peck, like he was testing the waters, but it was all I needed. It was what I had been wanting for so long now, just to feel his lips against mine again.

When he sat back, his hand still in mind, I gave it another squeeze and asked, "Are you allowed to tell me any stories from A Quiet Place? Or is it all top secret, hush hush?"

He smiled. "You know I'd tell you anything, even if it was top secret."

And just like that, we fell back into a usual routine. It was as if the last few months apart had never happened. And I was more than happy to forget it had.

#joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #imagine #one shot #fanfic #fanfiction #rpf #real person fic #fandom

213 notes · View notes

tumblermakesapodcast · 29 days ago

Text

draft one, part one

roughly the first 30 minutes, ~4k words PINK text indicates an undecided name, as well as sentences i wrote and am definitely going to change Sections are separated by a new line break // indicates a note to myself, usually put in as a way to remember where a plot element goes, or to indicate that a section is missing a large/important part of its content

behold it, in all of its messy, imperfect glory:

Letter, Odette to Friend

Dearest Vergie,

I wouldn't be surprised if you saw this envelope and immediately figured out the reason for my sending it. Nevertheless, I find that I cannot say anything other than 'thank you.' From the bottom of my heart, thank you for putting in a good word for me with Mr. NAME. I am happy to report that I am officially the newest hire at COMPANY, though I am swiftly impressing my skills on my superiors.

Because of this, since the time you last visited, the pattern of my daily life has changed drastically, and there is much to update you on.

The first and perhaps most drastic of these changes is the widening of my world from just my bedroom to the whole house, and sometimes even the street! I nearly made it all the way past the Fischer's home unassisted the other day-- a new record! I’ve regained most of the strength in my arms, but my legs still remain weak, which has made walking difficult. Luckily, John recently bought a Ford, and has been driving me around town-- the wonders of modern technology!

The most recent of these was a trip to (PLACE—ARE WE IN PERU?)

I do have a word of reprimand for you, my friend, and that is that you failed to mention to me how downright fun this job would be! While we're on shift, it's all business--no talking, eyes forward, you know the drill, but after, after is a real treat. I hadn't realized how much I had missed being in the company of girls my own age! Though we are not exactly alike, I find a lot of kinship and joy by being among them, and am so grateful to be getting to know them. When we got off shift the other day, we all went down to the drug store for sodas, and Katie convinced me to get a scoop of ice cream to go in mine. I was skeptical at first, because I figured the fizz would sour the milk, but she was so earnest and sweet that I simply could not deny her. The drink was surprisingly good—a touch too sweet for my taste, but I think you’d like it just fine! Next time you find yourself with a soda, you should try it.

I hope you aren’t working yourself too hard, dear.

All my love,

Odette

Letter, Friend to Odette

My dear Odette,

I'm so happy to hear that the job has been treating you well. See, I told you all you needed was to get out of the house! I remember when Beni was sick and I had to stay at home to keep the sickness from spreading-- those four days nearabout drove me up a wall, I can't imagine what a month of bedrest might do to me! It's heartening to know that you're improving, if however slow. One day at a time, dear, it'll be over before you know.

I'm very sorry for missing your call the other day. I would've called back, but I fear the operator must have written the callback number down wrong, because I tried to reach you and got some farmer over in CITY instead! I'm sure you do a much better job than the kids over here-- Mrs. Fletcher's youngest was just hired, so that tells you all you need to know about the state of affairs here at our office.

You know, it's funny, they showed me the call card and it didn't even have a message on it! Good grief. Hopefully your coworkers are demonstrating more proficiency than that!

Oh, speaking of Mrs. Fletcher, you'll never guess who I ran into at the grocer the other day! Thomas. Fletcher. That's right, Tom Fletcher, perusing tomatoes as casually as you please, looking every bit a civilized young man, can you believe it? I almost didn’t recognize him at first—he’s grown up so much since we were kids. I tell you, it’s remarkable the transformation he’s undergone, he looks like a full functioning member of high society, now! You’d hardly know he was responsible for dropping toads down people’s dresses, or that dreadful stink bomb on Easter Sunday! I suppose time really does

And now, Dettie, I have some terribly exciting news to share with you: Hobie and I are expecting! I went in to the doctor just the other day, and he confirmed it! A baby, can you believe it? I tell you, I have not stopped smiling since the news, my cheeks ache!

Diary Entry, Odette

Sleepless again. Frustrating. Had thought that having something to do during the day would tire me out more, but alas, I find myself at these pages once again at the ripe hour of three in the morning. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

Diary, Odette

Got a letter from Vergie today. The strangest thing, she mentioned missing a call from me, though I can't remember calling her any time recently

Note, Manager to Odette

Miss Odette LASTNAME,

Congratulations on a successful first quarter! You have been a tremendous asset to the company, and we are more than pleased with your work with us so far.

In light of this, your hours will be extended to a full twelve-hour shift, securing your status as a full-time employee of COMPANY.

Please contact your shift manager for more information.

Best,

Company Manager

Call, Odette & Other Odette

Buzz, incoming call

ODETTE. Hello, how can I connect you?

MALE VOICE. //number

ODETTE. What’s the name for the call?

MALE VOICE. John Smith

ODETTE. One moment, please

Clicks of pins/switches being moved

Chime, as call connects

Buzz, incoming call

ODETTE. Hello, how can I connect you?

FEMALE VOICE. //number

ODETTE. What’s the name for the call?

FEMALE VOICE. Jane Doe

ODETTE. One moment, please

Clicks of pins/switches being moved

Chime, as call connects

Buzz, incoming call

ODETTE. Hello, how can I connect you?

The buzz continues

ODETTE. Hello, how can I connect you?

Static, screechy whispering snippets of a voice, but no words

ODETTE. Hello?

Static. From amidst it, OTHER ODETTE’s voice crackles.

OTHER ODETTE. Hello

ODETTE. Hello, how can I connect you?

OTHER ODETTE. 1234567. 1234567. Odette. 1234567.

This pattern continues, even as ODETTE tries to talk to the caller.

ODETTE. I—I’m sorry, I don’t understand—

OTHER ODETTE. 1234567. Odette. 1234567. 1234567.

ODETTE. Um. That’s too many—Are you sure you have the right number, sir?

OTHER ODETTE. Odette. 1234567. 1234567.

ODETTE. I’m sorry, hold please

OTHER ODETTE. Odette. Odette. Odette. Odette.

The voice suddenly cuts off. Dial tone.

ODETTE. Thank you for holding, may I have the name of the city you’re calling?

Static.

ODETTE. Hello? Hello? Are you still there? He—

The call cuts off.

Diary, Odette

Had an odd incident at work today. Customer called and requested a number that was much too long, and I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, and what’s more, they hung up before I could get any sort of clarification! Katie says it was most likely some rascal playing a prank, which I would like to believe, except… the voice sounded familiar. And it could’ve been my mind playing tricks, but I could’ve sworn I heard my name somewhere in between the numbers

Diary, Odette

The numbers man called again.

Diary, Odette

1234567. 1234567. 1234567.

Another sleepless night finds me at these pages. All I can think is 1234567. What on earth?

Book Excerpt, Number Stations

Book Excerpt, Encyclopedia

Coordinates Revealed

Letter, Odette to Snr. Ibarra

Dear Sir,

I am writing to express my thanks for your discretion and compassion regarding the incidents of (DATE). I know you have received communication from Mr. (ROWAN) and Drs. (NAME), but I felt it prudent I sent something to you personally. Additionally, I would like to apologize for

Diary, Odette

//the journey to CITY

Diary, Odette

My first night in CITY. Or, rather, just outside of it-- the train let me off in the town at the base of the mountain, I’ll have to go the rest of the way by some other means. It was too late in the day to continue my journey, so I’m spending the night in a boarding house owned by a very sweet older gentleman, who insisted I take his room on the ground floor when he saw my cane. I tried to refuse, it’s his room, after all, and his house to boot, but he would hear none of it.

Everything around here is so beautiful—greenery and rolling hills all around, nothing like the beige drudgery of the city. I sat on the front steps of the boarding house to watch the sun set, and nearly wept at the vibrancy of the colors. I don’t think that even given a century I would be able to find the right words to describe it. I am by no means a poet, and find myself jealous of those with a gift for words. What must it be like, to be able to paint a picture with a few simple strokes of a pen? Alas, I fear I may never know.

I had thought, given all the travelling I’d undertaken today, that exhaustion would take over and send me swiftly into sleep, but that is not the case. Once again, three am has found me wide awake, staring at the shadows cast by the moon. This room is positioned perfectly to catch the most moonlight— for the moment, at least, it’s nearly bright as day in here. I can see clearly without need for another light, that’s how bright it is!

Diary, Odette

Finding transportation up to CITY is proving more difficult than I thought. I’ve received a strange assortment of reactions from people when I ask after it, some have laughed, others shoo me away, still others outright ignored me. One lady even started shouting at me, telling me to get out of her shop before she calls the cops again! I think she mistook me for someone else, but still. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why it should be so hard to get information on how to get to a nearby city. You’d think that it would be easy, to even just point me in the direction of the road that will take me there, but for some reason, even that much information is eluding me.

I asked NAME, the man who owns the boarding house, for a map of the area, and have been scouring it for CITY, with little success. I’ve traced out the coordinates, just like John taught me, but it keeps landing me in the middle of nowhere… UGH! I am beginning to grow frustrated by this whole ordeal. Not to mention, the amount of walking I’ve had to do today has been obscene—it’s just past noon and I’m exhausted. Am going to try and sleep for a bit, hopefully things will shape up while I’m in dreamland.

Diary, Odette, Same Day, Later

A bit of news—talked to NAME, who revealed something to explain the weird reactions I’ve been getting when asking after CITY. Apparently, CITY is another name for CITY2, technically. From what NAME tells me, CITY was founded a mile and a half away from CITY2 well over two centuries ago, until a devastating flood rendered the land unlivable. Nearly half the town’s residents lost their lives, and the survivors were left homeless. They moved a smidge west, to where CITY2 stands now, but locally, the two names are interchangeable, so when I was asking for directions to CITY, the odd looks I was getting were because I was already in CITY, aka CITY2!

I showed NAME the place on the map that the numbers pointed to, and he confirmed that CITY stood there before the flood, so that’s one mystery solved, and about a million more questions left in my mind.

I no longer know why I’m here. I was blinded by the chase, and now that it’s over, and with such an abrupt, accidental end, I feel… adrift. I don’t know what to do, now. There’s still a day left before I have to go back to ORIGINALCITY, but I’m not ready I don’t think. I feel unsatisfied. There was supposed to be meaning at the end of this, answers, but instead I’ve received a stock-standard story for my troubles. Why would someone take the time to call me, over and over and over again, with these coordinates and my name, only for there to be nothing? What purpose does that serve? If it’s a child playing a prank, it’s an elaborate one, and I fail to see the humor in it. If not, I fail to see the logic. At this point, I begin to wonder if perhaps I was wrong, if maybe I’m finally succumbing to the exhaustion brought on by too many sleepless nights and have begun to dream things in my waking life.

I don’t know what to do next. That’s the truth, plain and simple. I don’t know that I want to do anything next. Stagnation seems agreeable, at this moment

Frustrated sigh, the sound of a notebook snapping closed

Medical Report

//Odette sees her double, passes out, gets bonked up, care gets passed to the Sisters bc the hospital is overtaxed

Patient Report, Dr. House attending.

Patient was brought in at 1:00pm by emergency response crew. According to eyewitnesses, patient had collapsed while walking down Park Row, and, in a remarkable stroke of bad luck, fell into the road. An oncoming motorist was unable to fully brake in time, and ran into the patient, inflicting fractured ribs and a mild concussion. Patient has preexisting condition in hips and left leg

Patient has been moved to the care of the Sisters, as hospital is at capacity and danger has passed.

Diary, Odette

Can’t sleep. Sick of staying in bed, but am not able to go much further than the door before someone comes swooping in to usher me back to the mattress. Infuriating. Not sure how this is supposed to help, but am not in a position to argue. I suppose I should be grateful that I have been sent here and not an institution, but I find the sentiment hard to scrape together. I can only stare at the same patch of ceiling for so long, and that time has long since passed. If it comes to it, I believe I could finagle my way out the window and into the tree that brushes its panes, though where to go from there is more of a mystery. Alas.

My one saving grace has been the texts that Sister Ana has snuck in for me to peruse. None of it is anywhere near the caliber of what I would expect from the library, given its reputation, and I cannot tell if the (word on the street) is exaggerated, or if she is simply handling me with kid gloves. I would be more mad about it, but as I said, these texts are the only things keeping me from clawing at the walls, so. I’m trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Am going to attempt to copy some of the illustrations here, to take back as souvenirs when (if) I leave the Abbey.

Image description: a pencil and paper sketch of a creature, done by an unskilled hand. The image is smudged, as if a hand had dragged its way across the surface of the paper, blurring the lines, distorting the shape of the animal. The eyes have been erased and redrawn with a heavy hand, to the point that it seems to have a good many more than it should.

Hm. Perhaps I should use this time to improve my drawing skills. That came out more than a bit scary looking, if I’m completely honest. It… it almost seems like the eyes follow me. They don’t, obviously, but. Hm. Ramblings of an overtired mind, I’m sure.

Ha. Can’t hurt to try again, I suppose. Goodnight

Newspaper Clipping //something to do with the doubles

Diary, Odette

Surprise surprise, still unable to sleep. I had thought that perhaps, given my increased mobility and the start of my duties in the Library, I thought that I might be more physically exhausted at the end of the day and therefore more inclined to fall asleep, but alas. Physically exhausted? Yes. However, my mind and my body do not seem to be in communication with one another on this matter, and I remain sleepless.

Have taken to wandering the halls at night. The garden would be the obvious choice, but on the two times that I’ve attempted to sneak out there after-hours, there’s been someone else out there, and I simply cannot deal with the human interaction that would require. Similarly, I’ve been avoiding the chapel, since there’s almost always someone praying holy hours or sitting Adoration, and it feels a bit sacrilegious to loiter there without the intention of praying or anything.

Which leaves the work rooms, or the library, and. Well. I know for a fact that the Sisters adhere to a strict schedule, that Mother Superior is very adamant on maintaining curfews, mostly because I myself have been told off for wandering into off-limits areas. This wouldn’t be a problem, except I have heard shuffling in the work rooms, the same step step swish that always accompanies her arrival into the doorway of my room. Which… leaves the Library.

The Library which I have specifically been told not to enter unless I’m chaperoned by one of the Sisters.

The Library, which I know is locked at the end of each shift (because the Mother Superior showed me the key she wears around her neck when she told me I wasn’t allowed to enter the Library without a chaperone).

Locked library means no one will be in there at night, means no one will come looking, means I won’t be found out if I camp out there.

Will have to find a way to pick the lock, though… Hm.

Research Recording, Ana

Fizzle fizzle pop of the phonograph

ANA. Transcription, translated and recorded by Ana. Original song heard sung between children skipping stones on the lake.

¿Qué le gustaría, señor, señor?

¿Qué le gustaría, señor?

¿Media libra de patas, señor, señor?

¿Media libra de patas, señor?

¿Una fanega de tarwhi, señor, señor?

¿Una fanega de tarwhi, señor?

He vaciado mis bolsillos, Señor, Señor

He vaciado mis bolsillos, señor.

¿Qué más se puede pedir, Señor, Señor?

No tengo nada más, señor

¿Qué es lo que quiere, Señor, Señor?

¿Qué es lo que quiere, señor?

¿Quieres mia lliclla, Señor, Señor?

Me voy a quitar mia lliclla, señor

¿Quieres mi chumpi, Señor, Señor?

He desatado mi chumpi, Señor

Por favor no, Señor, Señor

¡Por favor no, Señor!

What would you like, Señor, Señor?

What would you like, Señor?

A half-pound of patas, Señor, Señor?

A half-pound of patas, Señor?

A bushel of tarwhi, Señor, Señor?

A bushel of tarwhi, Señor?

I’ve emptied my pockets, Señor, Señor

I’ve emptied my pockets, Señor

What more can you ask, Señor, Señor?

I’ve nothing more, Señor

What do you want, Señor, Señor

What do you want, Señor?

You want mia lliclla, Señor, Señor?

I’ll take off mia lliclla, Señor

You want mi chumpi, Señor, Señor

I’ve untied my chumpi, Señor

Por favor no, Señor, Señor

Por favor no, Señor!

At the end of the song, the kids all turned and sprinted into the lake, until they were knee-deep in the water. The last child who made it into the water was ganged up on by the others, subjected to a deluge of splashes and tickles for losing the footrace.

While, on the surface, an innocent childhood game, one cannot help but wonder where these kids learned the rhyme, as it clearly describes, or at the very least implies an unwelcome encounter between a man and a woman, presumably sexual in nature. Where did they learn it? It’s not entirely unlike the songs I remember singing when I was their age, but it is an odd coincidence, that it would align so neatly with my current research. Is this related to the Señor Sombro these same children have reportedly been talking about, or is it simply another instance of kids being kids? I’d like to ask around town—

Door shuts, footsteps

ANA. I-- Hello?

Footsteps stop

ANA. Is… is someone there?

shuffling

ODETTE. Hi. Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to—

ANA. Who are you? How’d you get in here?

ODETTE. I—I’m Odette? We… we’ve met, you’re Sister Ana, right? You brought me some books to read…

ANA. Oh! Yes, Odette. You’re… supposed to be bedbound

ODETTE. You can stare at the same four walls for only so long before the need to see something else takes completely over

ANA. I don’t… I’m no doctor, but I don’t think that’s how bedrest is supposed to work

ODETTE. Hm. Shows how much you know

ANA. How did you get in here? The door was locked

ODETTE. (smug) I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?

ANA. Yes, actually. How did you get in?

ODETTE. Hairpin. Your locks are old

ANA. That’s… concerning

ODETTE. Only if there’s something you’re trying to protect in here

ANA. Or if we’re trying to keep someone out

ODETTE. I was told no one was allowed in here after-hours

ANA. I have special permission

ODETTE. Huh. Why

ANA. I’m an archivist.

ODETTE. It’s three in the morning.

ANA. I’m a… midnight archivist

ODETTE. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to

ANA. If you don’t want to believe me, you don’t have to

//segue somehow

ODETTE. What’s this?

ANA. No, don’t touch—

Recorder fumbles

ODETTE. Sorry, sorry I didn’t mean to—is it okay?

ANA. It’s fine

ODETTE. What… what is it? A phonograph? Were you listening to something? I didn’t hear any music

ANA. Yes and no. I was recording myself

ODETTE. Why?

ANA. It’s a… project of mine. Already, we are recording operas and musicians—why not more? Think! What if we recorded books, and stories, too? This could be our future—Someday, we could have a library full of records instead of books!

ODETTE. I see

ANA. You’re not convinced

ODETTE. Not really, no. What’s the point of recording a book? Operas and music I understand, but books are already portable

ANA. What if you were able to record people’s first hand experience of things? In their own words, with their own voices? What a wonderful gift for our children, to leave them with our stories, told in our voices, for them to remember us by when we’re gone! Of what if you can’t read? Or can’t see? Just think of how many more people we could bring a world of stories to, simply by recording them

//segue somehow

ANA. Hm. Well, you don’t have to use it

ODETTE. Now, I didn’t say that—

ANA. I thought as much

ODETTE. Cheeky, you are

ANA. Guilty

ODETTE. So how does it work?

ANA. Look, come closer. Here, you speak into the bell, and it moves the needle to make impressions onto the wax, here.

ODETTE. And that…catches the sound?

ANA. It does

ODETTE. Wha—how?

ANA. Sound is just vibrations, yes? So if we can make something that vibrates in the same way that your voice, or music does, then we can recreate the original sound. That’s what the wax impressions do—when you put the needle on the grooves, it recreates the original vibrations from when you recorded. Here, listen

Stops recording, starts again

Recording: Odette does the hello, hello, hello testing a mic thing

ODETTE. That’s… does my voice really sound like that?

ANA. I know. Odd, isn’t it?

Research Recording, Odette

//exposition but masquerading as something cooler

Research Recording, Odette

//something that won't come back to bite us until the third act

Diary, Odette

//feelings about the other odette, hanging out with deut

Research Recording #3, Odette

//the stuff other odette was working on, witchcraft, supernatural things?

Research Recording #4, Odette

//a topical poem? story of some kind?

#tmap #tumblr makes a podcast #new audio drama #new podcast #not a poll #tmap first draft

15 notes · View notes

treacheryinblue · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter 1/?

× Elysium (noun) : a place or condition of ideal happiness. type of: fictitious place, imaginary place, mythical place.

Word Count: 4.1k

An introduction of sorts.

A Noah Sebastian x OC Series

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah and his new found (sort of) friend, Persephone, battle the trivial ins and outs of being teenagers in a world that doesn't accept you. They survive together all the way into adulthood - with bouts of loneliness included - where the world is still a fickle bitch.

× Warnings!: language, violence, slowburn, friends to lovers to enemies back to friends, rinse and repeat (not even in that order), eventual smut, sexual themes, etc. Each chapter will have its own set of separate warnings.

× Author Notes: ( 1 ) Any time within the story before 2016, Persephone is still a minor, therefor sexual mentions will be kept brief and to a minimum. Nothing crude will be mentioned in a descriptive manner until she is 18+ in the story. ( 2 ) Piggybacking off of that, Noah is only two years older than her. ( 3 ) Since most personal facts about the guys are not widely known, I will be adding my own background info to them, as well as switching up/deleting real life facts we may already be aware of.

× Chapter Warnings!: language, brief sexual themes

SUMMER OF 2014

SUNDAY JUNE 22nd

PERSEPHONE

Summers in Virginia could be brutal, but this one in particular felt especially heinous. The sun was a vile orb that beat down on her skin, leaving it hot to the touch and also faintly shining with perspiration. Typically she loved the sun and the way it would make her feel, but today? Well, not so much. Despite this, she tried her best to ignore her own minuscule issues and instead focus on the words being spoken to not only her, but also the friends she surrounded herself with. They all sat around one of the outside tables at Ruffilo’s, a casual diner-like restaurant they enjoyed frequenting in the afternoons. The food was decent, and it was also one of the only establishments that wouldn't kick out teenagers who lingered too long.

“Seph? Earth to, Seph! Come in, Seph!”

“Huh?” She was quick to snap out of her little daze, her head turning towards the voice echoing her name. Maisie Linwood, her best friend since first grade, stared back at her with an arched brow and an annoyed expression. One thing to know about Maisie, she could out bitch anyone with just a cut of her eyes. Persephone figured that's probably who she picked up the same habit from years ago.

“Sorry, it's just really hot out here.” A hand was then shoved into her now empty glass to retrieve a piece of ice, that of which she began to drag along the back of her neck.

Ahhh, yes, that was nice.

“Okay, well, I need you to, like, be here with us. We're trying to figure out the details of Mason’s birthday.”

Mason being Maisie’s twin brother, and this was quite obvious when you were to look at them. Same eyes, same nose, same little beauty mark right off to the side of their cheek. Same godforsaken ‘better than thou’ attitude. And yes, they were fully aware of how horrible being named Maise and Mason was.

“Oh, right, I won't be able to go. I told you that. My parents are making me go with them to the lake that weekend.”

The ice continued to drag along her overheated skin, now shifting to the front of her neck and down her chest. Could she at least get a breeze or something? Fuck.

“Or…you can tell them you don't want to and then we can have the party at your place.” Maisie challenged with a smug smirk, as if daring anyone to tell her otherwise. “Your house does have the best pool.”

There it was. Maisie’s way of getting the things she wanted by catering to people’s egos. She wanted to say that it never worked on her, but then she would be lying.

“What the fuck are you staring at, freak? Are you seriously checkin’ out my girl?”

Thankfully, the topic was abruptly changed by Mason’s sudden outburst of anger. By the way, she was dating Mason. Kind of. It wasn't technically official…but whatever. Honestly, she didn't care one way or the other.

“I…uh…no! I was just-”

Seph squinted from the bright glare of the sun off the side of the restaurant when she turned to see what all the fuss was about. She could make out the tall figure of the guy who had been serving them, a dumbfounded look currently overtaking his narrow features. It seemed as if she wasn't the only one surprised by Mason’s show of aggression.

“Wait, what's happening?” She sat forward a bit, a hand lifting to shield over her eyes to get a better look at the commotion. Mason was now standing a couple of feet from the guy, obviously ready to go if the moment called for it. Seph could only heavily sigh, eyes rolling at his embarrassing and rather annoying reaction to…whatever had happened. That was something she still hadn't caught.

“Scrawny little freak here was just staring at you, Seph. Watching you with that fucking ice!”

Ah, so that's what the problem was? Seriously?

“I was just coming out to get the glass for a refill…” he tried to defend, but there was no knocking any sense into Mason when he got started. Just another trait him and Maisie shared, and one that she truly disliked.

“Leave him alone, Mason. Can you just let him do his job?”

Her intrusion of the conversation had given the guy a spare moment to scurry away, jaw clenched and head shaking as he did. She felt bad for him because she knew how aggravating it could be to be on the receiving end of Mason’s teenage rage, even more so when it came to his possessive nature over something that wasn't his.

“You're really going to defend him, Seph?”

Mason was now looking at her, hands thrown out to his sides in a stance of disbelief. She merely shrugged, giving him a ‘who cares?’ look before settling back in her seat. It didn't seem as if he was as capable of dropping the topic as she was, so he continued to stand there…just staring in anger. She could almost see the fumes radiating off his head like he was a furious little cartoon character.

Hilarious.

With a heavy sigh, Seph snatched her glass from the table and stood up, free hand simultaneously adjusting the hem of her shorts. “I'm going to get my refill and no, I don't need your help.” She spat at Mason, earning a scoff from Maisie and another girl within their friend group. It didn't bother her in the slightest.

Inside Ruffilo’s was at least twenty degrees cooler, and it felt so nice that she actually sighed in relief. The lack of sun now beating down on her had given her the opportunity to clear the haze from her mind and really take note of the situation. She realized that she recognized the guy as she approached the counter…but from where? With his back to her, Seph began to silently rack her brain. He was talking in hushed tones to another guy that appeared to be about the same age, but shorter and with darker hair. Something was telling her that it was his family who owned the restaurant, though she wasn’t entirely sure as to how she knew that.

The shorter guy looked at her from over the other guy’s shoulder, quickly nodding in her direction to signal her presence to him. As he turned, she adjusted her attention and their eyes locked with ease.

“Hey…” she softly spoke, a slight smile pulling at her lips. “I'm sorry about Mason…he can be a real dick sometimes.”

“Yeah…I kind of gathered that.”

Seph slowly nodded, unsure of what to say now. She tore her gaze from his, allowing it to fall down to the glass she still held. Did she even want a refill? Or had this been some ploy against herself to give the guy an apology?

The clearing of his throat garnered her attention again, and she looked up just in time to see him motioning towards the glass. “Did you want a refill?”

Once more nodding, she pulled the straw from the glass before extending it out to him. Her arms crossed over her chest now, the end of the straw being held to her lips for her to absentmindedly chew on as she waited. Seph could feel eyes on her, the weight of them rather obvious. Glancing up, she noticed the other guy eying her, as if trying to size her up.

Where did she know them from?

Then, like a light switch being turned on, it finally clicked.

“Noah,” she pointed the end of her straw to the taller guy, nodding. “We used to go to school together, right?”

It was all finally starting to come back to her. She knew she had recognized him from somewhere, though putting her finger on it took longer than she would've thought. Seph had left their public high school after freshmen year, her parents instead deciding to enroll her into a new private school that had been built. ‘It’s where all your friends will be going' they tried to explain to her, like she really needed convincing when she knew she didn't have a choice in the matter to begin with.

“Uh, yeah, I think I was a year ahead of you.”

Noah nodded as he passed her now full glass of water back her way, fresh ice included. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was quickly cut off by the other guy.

“Two years…we were two years ahead of her.”

“Dude…” Noah sighed, giving his friend a look that she wasn't quite sure how to explain.

Persephone softly chuckled, brows raised while looking back and forth between the two guys. As much as she wanted to stand there within the air conditioning, watching the two of them bicker, she knew she couldn't linger for much longer. It was only a matter of time before one of her friends came looking for her and the last thing she wanted was for another scene to break out.

“Okay, well, I'm going to go and leave you guys to it.” She took a sip from her water, though her smile lingered. “Sorry again about…”

Noah shook his head, waving it off in a nonchalant manner. “Dicks will forever be dicks.”

“I'll see you around, yeah?” After taking a couple of steps backwards, Seph then turned on her heel to make a beeline for the side door she had previously entered from.

“I'm Nick, by the way!”

Another laugh easily flowed from her, a hand lifting to wave back. “Bye, Nick!”

NOAH

“Persephone Hill, Noah? Really?”

“What?”

“Dude, she's like fucking royalty of Richmond. Her dad is some big real estate guy, owns half the buildings on this street alone.”

“And?” Noah looked to his best friend after having passed a receipt to another patron of the restaurant and wishing them a good day. “Just because her dad is some big shot, that means I can't talk to her?”

“No, but it does mean you can't fucking ogle her goodies out in public.”

He grimaced at Nick’s choice of words but tried his best to laugh it off, head shaking. “I wasn't…doing that!” Noah tossed the balled up unwanted receipt at Nick with enough force that it hit him square in the forehead, but bounced off to roll along the floor. “Who the hell says it like that anyway?”

Okay, maybe he had been doing that. Who could blame him, though? He took in a sharp breath as he tried to think of anything but the way the melted ice had dripped down her neck, getting lost behind her tank top as it slid into her cleavage. Fuck. Noah did a discreet tug of his jeans when the memory caused a stirring within, instead opting to focus on the hot plates of food that were being slid his way for distribution to tables.

“I'm just saying, okay? My dad had done business with him a couple of years back and said he's a major asshole. Never say I didn't warn you.”

THURSDAY JUNE 26th

PERSEPHONE

“You look like you could use a sugar rush.”

A set of long fingers set down a stereotypical milkshake glass in front of her, the contents of it a deep pink color. Her brows furrowed in slight confusion for a split second, before she finally looked up to see Noah standing there. He appeared to be just as tired as she felt, though she decided to not call him out for it. Instead, she offered a slight smile of appreciation.

“How could you tell?” She joked while ripping the paper from the straw before shoving it into the milkshake. “And how did you know strawberry was my favorite?”

“Well, you see…” he rubbed at the back of his neck after glancing at where Nick stood behind the counter. “Nick used all the chocolate syrup earlier for some little kids, so I couldn't do chocolate. Vanilla seemed too basic, which left strawberry as the only option. I guess you could say…I just got lucky?”

Seph gave him a single thumbs up, her mouth now occupied with the sugary treat she was happily sipping. “This might just be the pick-me-up I needed to get through this work, so thanks.”

“Yeah, I thought it was kind of late for you to be here.”

“Shit, sorry. Are you guys about to close? I can totally pack things up if so.” She licked over her lips to rid them of any milkshake remnants before she began to reach for her things. Noah held his hands out, motioning for her to stop, chuckling to himself as he did.

“You're good, you're good. I promise. Still got about an hour.”

That was when Nick came sauntering over, a basket of fries in his hand that he was digging through. He leaned against the side of the booth, bright eyes glancing back and forth between herself and Noah.

“It typically dies down around eight on weekdays, so there isn't shit to do for a bit.” Nick then nodded towards the math equations she had written out on her notebook, still chomping away at his fries. “Calculus? Wouldn't a library be better for homework?”

Noah sighed, an elbow angling out just a bit to nudge at his friend. Again the two shared a silent look, almost like they were having a conversation within their minds that she wasn't privy to.

“You would think, but the private rooms are always booked and most people don't know that you're supposed to be quiet in libraries. Shocking, right?”

“I bet your house has a grand ol' study area.”

What was Nick getting at? She couldn't really tell if he was genuinely asking or if he was somehow mocking her in his own sly way. Considering Noah's silence, Seph was going to assume it was the latter.

“Uh…” her hands rubbed along the top of her thighs, eyes glancing along her math work that was all beginning to jumble together. “It's too quiet there…makes it just as hard to focus.”

Also, the change of scenery was nice. She was tired of seeing the same walls everyday in her house, and trying to study at any of her friends’ homes would've been just as impossible. They would've become too distracted with gossip and mindless chatter.

“Hey, Nick,” she began as the end of her pencil lightly tapped against her notebook. “Can I get an order of fries too? Thanks.” If he wanted to throw a bit of mockery her way, then she would gladly do the same with her own style of attitude. The bittersweet kind where she was smiling, but her words held a slight hint of venom. Nick paused, his chewing beginning to slow as they merely stared at one another. Without another word, he nodded, and then went off to get her order prepared.

“He's sensitive, you know,” Noah joked, pointing in the direction his friend had wandered off.

“Oh, I'm sure he can manage to get what he gives.”

Persephone adjusted the pencil in her hand, now beginning to continue her work. She didn't know why she was even attempting to because there was no way she’d be able to focus. Her attention span had run out at least an hour ago, and not even a strawberry milkshake could bring it back. As she pretended to work, Noah was doing the same. He began to clean the tables in her surrounding area, his lanky tattooed arms drawing her attention in ways she never thought possible. Seph remained silent, though she found herself watching him. Why? She had no idea. Noah was far from her type, or at least what she assumed her type was, but it wasn't like she was interested to begin with. Maybe he would make a decent friendly acquaintance — someone she could say ‘hi’ to on the street in passing.

“Did those hurt?” Seph motioned with her pencil to his arm, his tattoos being the topic of her curiosity.

Noah glanced to the limb, his shoulders shrugging nonchalantly. “Nah, not too bad. Nothing I wouldn't be able to handle again.”

She slowly nodded, the end of her pencil now tucked between her teeth. She continued to allow her gaze to travel along the designs before taking in a deep breath and lowering her attention back down to her dreaded calculus. Ugh, this was almost like she was torturing herself.

“Do you have any?”

“Hm?” Seph glanced up through her lashes at him.

“Tattoos. Do you have any?”

This inquiry caused her to snort out a laugh, now fully looking across at Noah in disbelief. He must not know anything about her family, and she was actually thankful for this. It was so annoying to have to talk to people who thought they already knew everything about you, when really, they knew nothing.

“No,” she finally replied, shaking her head. “My parents are very old school. They said that my body is a temple and if I desecrate it in any way then I'm not allowed my trust fund or inheritance.”

“Well…shit. That's brutal.”

Persephone shrugged, the notebook before her now being closed since she figured she wasn't going to be getting any more work done. Not that she was complaining. “Yeah, it's a little fucked. I mean, my mom won't even let me have more than two holes in my ears.”

“Sounds like some high standards to live up to.”

Noah's words caught her a little off guard. Her lips pursed as she carefully slipped her belongings into her bag, situating everything just right so they'd sit correctly. She didn't say anything in regards to the statement, mostly because she wasn't sure how to respond, but also because Nick had dropped the basket of fries in front of her. Persephone flashed him a wide grin, her fingers picking up one of the crispy fries to bite the end off.

“You're a peach, truly.”

FRIDAY JULY 4th

NOAH

This was not how he saw the night going. It had been change up after change up, until his plans had been ruined and he was forced to work another shift at Ruffilo’s. He didn't complain, though, at least not to anyone but himself. The last thing he wanted was to seem ungrateful for what Nick’s family had done for him, and what they continued to do everyday. He knew you'd never find another family as giving as Nick’s, so he did all he could to help them out, even if it meant canceling his plans. Nick offered to work with him, but Noah refused. It wasn't going to be busy since they didn't serve alcohol, so with it being Independence Day, the majority of Richmond would be out at the fireworks and then partying with a beer. Just as their forefathers would've wanted.

And just as he had predicted, it was dead by seven that night. Fireworks started around eight, waiting just long enough for the sky to get mostly dark. Noah could see the flashes of light from over the buildings, which he stood and stared at for much longer than anticipated. There was a pressure building within his chest, though. He could feel his hands becoming clammy and the rapid beating of his heart picking up more and more. He had to force himself to look away from the fireworks and start doing something else — anything to occupy his mind. Ever since the accident, bright lights and loud noises had been a trigger for him. He was working through it with his therapist weekly, but the progression was slow. Much slower than he would've liked.

Phone in hand, Noah stood in the kitchen of the restaurant, now mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. It helped calm his mind to see senseless things that people posted on their socials, and the things he was interested in, did well as a distraction. There was one distraction in particular he hadn't seen coming, though. Only a day or so previous, Persephone had insisted they follow each other. She had thousands of followers, while he only had a couple hundred, so he figured it was no big deal. Maybe she liked having a huge audience studying and judging her social life. But because of their mutual following, he was now graced with her presence on his Instagram timeline.

Noah swallowed as he came across the picture. She appeared happy, wearing a wide smile that took up most of her face, clad in the typical red, white, and blue colors for this particular holiday. In her hands, she held sparklers, both of which were situated up towards the sky with the pose she took in front of a pool. Others were seen behind her, one of which he recognized as Mason, the asshole from before. This was when Noah closed out of the app, his phone then being tucked away in his back pocket.

The next couple of hours went by rather slowly. He had maybe three patrons come in, but none that lingered for longer than necessary. Still, he took his time cleaning up and closing, even opting to tell the cook he could leave and he’d finish up. Nick had called him a couple of times, the voices of their friends obvious in the background, and he of course promised to drop by once he was off. Despite this, he didn't rush. After his near panic attack earlier, Noah just wanted to go home and lay in bed.

Unfortunately, he would have to wait a bit longer before being able to.

It was nearly eleven when he heard knocking on the front door of the restaurant. All the lights were off except those over the kitchen, so he had no idea why someone would think they were open. Did that stop him from poking his head out to see who it was? No. And this is why people die in horror movies. He was a walking cliché.

There was another knock, this one slightly louder than the last. Heavily sighing, Noah took a couple of slow steps towards the kitchen opening that led out into the main area, his upper body leaning over just enough for him to see straight forward. Standing outside was a rather familiar shape, the white dress being the first thing that caught his eye. He remembered it from his Instagram scroll hours prior.

Seph?

Noah rushed towards the front and wasted no time in unlocking the door for her, which he then held open. In walked the young blonde, her arms hugging herself. She no longer wore the smile from the picture earlier, but instead her cheeks were stained with glittery tears due to the festive makeup she had applied.

“Shit, Noah, I'm sorry. I- I didn't know where else to go or who I could talk to and I just- I saw your car and-”

Shaking his head, he placed his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to soothe and calm her ramblings. She tried a deep breath, but the hiccups from her tears prevented her from fully doing so.

“Hey, no, it's okay. What's wrong? What happened?”

The fact that Persephone had come to him was shocking, to say the least. Were they friends? He wasn't sure if he would label them as such, but maybe it was different for her. They did have long conversations every time she came to the diner, which just so happened to be picking up in frequency ever since the ice incident.

“Mason and I…we got into a fight…” she sniffed, further fighting back her tears just so she could properly breathe.

What was it about this asshole type that girls seemed to flock to? He would never understand it.

“He, um…he was just really mean, yeah? He blew up at me…caused this huge scene in front of everyone. It was so fucking embarrassing.”

Noah could tell she was holding something back, but he wasn't going to pry. If Seph didn't want to tell him the full story, then she didn't have to. Either way, he would be there for her as much as she would allow.

Nodding, his thumbs rubbed slowly along the bare skin of her shoulders that he still grasped. He eventually led her to a booth and brought her a glass of water, giving her as much time as she needed to gather herself. Although he wanted to know what actually happened, he knew this wasn't the time for it.

“Are you okay?” Noah finally asked after a few minutes. Her tears had ceased, but he noticed how she was still absentmindedly scratching at the side of her thigh. He knew an anxiety tick when he saw one. After all, he had plenty of his own.

Without answering, Seph finally looked at him. “Would you be able to take me home? Please?”

CHAPTER TWO JUMP

#bad omens #noah sebastian #fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfiction #fan fiction #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian x original character #bad omens fic #bad omens smut #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian smut #bad omens fan fiction #noah sebastian fan fiction

39 notes · View notes