#I played it back when everything closed down for the pandemic

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

hide the sun - n. mackinnon

summary: there are some things nathan mackinnon can't cope very well with in life. one of them happens to be mia in hospital, and needless to say it's a whirlwind when it comes true. (f!oc!soccer player)

warnings: swearing, details of injury (stitches, concussion, temporary amnesia etc), mentions of vomiting, mentions of anxiety, brief mention of the pandemic, mentions of sports psychologists, mention of painkillers/hospitals/doctors, mentions of routines/small rituals, angst

word count: 13.8k (sheesh)

< a/n: this is for demi (the legend herself) @wyattjohnston as part of the summer fic exchange2k24! i hope you enjoy it! also a massive thank you for organising such a wholesome event in this little community!! >

Nate had lost count on how many times he’d had to dive into the nearest bathroom to empty the contents of his stomach in the last few hours. It seemed like every time he got close to stepping inside the hospital room his brain would play over what happened in his head and he’d relive it all again – as if once wasn’t enough. Only, his imagination was crueller than reality because the outcome would always be…Mia not conscious and talking in the hospital bed.

All is well, he had to keep reminding himself of that or the fine thread holding everything in check would spontaneously snap and he’d be inconsolable.

He’d gone through a lot in his life, but nothing had ever come close to him experiencing this level of fear before. And that in itself was a terrifying notion, because that fear was rooted in someone else’s well being. His happiness and his peace were attached to the woman in the hospital bed, not to himself, and he found that both profoundly moving and disturbing at the same time.

He flushed the toilet once more, stomach muscles aching, and shut his eyes, his head lolling against the wall behind him. 

He was well aware he was being a dick. Perhaps the biggest prick he’d ever been before in his entire life. And he was being all of that to the person he was wholeheartedly, irrevocably, hilariously in love with, too. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to forgive himself let alone ask for forgiveness from her.

He was still shaking and cold, and every time he shut his eyes that scene was played on repeat: the ball flying through the air, Mia jumping up to head it away but instead getting a sharp elbow to the temple (one Nate could safely say rivalled even Jacob Trouba’s weaponry) and going down cold. Nate knew it was bad just from the way she’d fallen – limbs loose, like a puppeteer had surrendered control of the strings – he’d had enough practice in his own field, and he hadn’t ever anticipated her also being on the receiving end of such a blow before. 

Of course, it had been her teammates first, frantic expressions on their faces as someone waved over the physios, and then the physios had waved over the paramedics and–

Nate inhaled a shuddering breath, a hand kneading away the pain in his chest. He’d never been one to admit he suffered with anxiety before, sure, he got them in bouts occasionally, but he’d never had it on this scale. Yet, another terrifying thing.

And to top all of that off, the guilt flowing through his veins was astronomical. He could feel it crushing his head from inside his skull, squeezing his heart and constricting his lungs and he just wanted to curl up somewhere and sob everything out of his system. Then, and only then would he be able to stomach the thought of seeing her: when he’d comprehended everything.

“Fucking dick, what are you doing?” He groaned into his hands, wiping away unshed tears and taking another shaky breath, this one making his chin wobble.

He was needed, he was painfully aware of that. Painfully. It scorched his insides and his consciousness didn’t hold back the self-belittling remarks in his head, but he couldn’t peel himself up from the floor. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to stand safely on his own legs, and he wasn’t entirely sure his stomach was strong enough just yet.

His phone buzzed in the pocket of his jeans, and in an attempt to take it out of his pocket it clattered to the floor, victim to his trembling hands.

He blinked once, twice, three times to clear the blurriness of his eyes, and read over the words on his screen. He wasn’t entirely sure whether it was the shortness and cryptic tone of the message that had him finding strength from somewhere to haul himself onto his feet, or whether he was just intrinsically waiting for something to get him moving.

All anyone had been told so far was that she was in a stable condition – still unconscious – and that any scans that had been done so far had been as clear as they could be, that being no internal bleeding or haemorrhaging or anything that could have possibly resulted from getting hit in the temple and then bashing your head on the floor. A concussion was inevitable, and even thinking about it, Nate knew it wasn’t going to be a merciful one. 

Nevertheless, he managed to pocket his phone, a damp hand on the wall of the cubicle keeping him steady until he could unlock the door without wanting to immediately dive back in and hide until Mia was given the all-clear. 

He wasn’t even sure he knew what he was doing or where he was going when he was following the overhead signs, but he somehow ended up in the hallway. There were benches in the corridor, settled just outside Mia’s room, and he stopped as he rounded the corner.

There was a crowd of people significantly larger than when he’d initially run away to the toilets, and one quick glance at people’s faces told him they were teammates. It wasn’t the entire team, just a few close friends and the team physio – enough to mean a queue would have to be formed when she wakes up, what with some of her family members already in there.

And if he was being completely honest, Nate wasn’t sure what to expect as he slowly walked towards them. They’d taken up all the seats on the bench and a few people were sitting on the floor against the wall, but no one was talking. In fact, everyone appeared to be looking straight forwards at the same spot on the wall, but there was nothing there.

It was Milly who saw him first. She offered a tight smile and waved at him, and when he got close enough, just about to lower himself down on the floor next to her, she spoke.

“The doctor came out around two minutes ago.” She whispered, and Nate felt all the air in his lungs freeze.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, the sharp pain in his chest rendering him immobile. Of course he wanted to know if she was okay, but what if she wasn’t? That was the question that his mind kept repeating on a loop, and if that was the case then these few seconds he’d use to gather himself meant they’d be the last few seconds where he was ignorant to that piece of information.

He swallowed, unable to look at Milly, and instead turned his attention to the spot on the wall in front of him that everyone else seemed to be focused on.

“She’s awake.”

“Is she oka–” His throat was horrendously dry and his voice was scratchy, but it was Milly’s gentle hand on his forearm that had him shutting up.

“She’s okay.”

Nate nodded, not even noticing Milly had rescinded her touch, and instead inhaled deeply, nodding absent-mindedly.

“She’s been assessed, her memory’s a little bit patchy from the last couple of days but there’s no concern. Her family’s in there now.” She paused, and even out of the corner of his eye he could tell she was clearly hesitant in saying something to him. Everyone seemed to have looked at him like that since the minute he’d walked through the hospital doors, and he was starting to find it rather irritating. It felt awfully similar to impatience, like every time he caught someone looking at him with pity, wanting to say something but ultimately deciding not to (probably because they didn’t know how he’d react), he just wanted to yell – like when you get stuck behind a slow walker and you’re behind schedule in the airport.

He blinked hard, once, twice, before using the heel of his palm to quickly wipe his eyes. He hadn’t even noticed the water welling up until the wall in front of him had become a blurred mess of blocked colours: red, green, blue, white. 

“Are you gonna go in?” Milly asked finally, and he was at least glad she made no comment on his tears.

He shook his head, not entirely trusting himself to speak without his voice cracking or wavering, or a complete breakdown – he’d be lying to himself immensely if he denied that wasn’t on the cards.

“Can’t.” He croaked, pulling his knees up to his chest, as best as he could given his height, “I’m not family, they won’t let me in.”

Milly considered his words for a moment before frowning, “Who won’t let you in?”

“Doctors. I’m not family, so…They don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“That’s shit—”

“They told me to come back in the morning, but I’m not sure I can leave.” He whispered, his hand massaging the tender spot in his chest as he fought another onslaught of watery eyes.

He felt like it might be a bit of an overreaction to cry at the knowledge she was okay, but he couldn’t quite get a handle on anything. It was a combination of stress, worry and fear that just spiralled his emotions out of his own control, like someone else was fiddling with the joystick of a controller somewhere. Yet, even knowing the root of it all, the mere thought of straying more than a corridor away from the door to Mia’s hospital room was…incomprehensibly daunting. 

It almost sent him down another path of panic, he could feel the grips of it begin to claw at his heart rate and the clamminess of his palms again when he even so much as thought about it. 

No, he physically couldn’t bring himself to leave, at least not yet.

He’d at least give it another think when her parents walk out with a real update instead of the formal crap the doctors had spewed him earlier: some vague nonsense about her being stable but unable to tell quite the extent of the damage just yet, and if they knew they certainly couldn’t tell him because he wasn’t her husband. 

If only he’d lied initially. He’d probably think about that for the rest of his life.

Milly hummed, pulling out her phone. If the circumstances had been different Nate probably would have been able to stop himself peeking over at what she was doing, but he was so despondent and distracted in his own head, those horrified replays still flickering on a loop in the back of his mind, that he couldn’t bring himself to be nosey for once.

“That’s not right,” Milly muttered under her breath, scrolling down several pages of text, “They should let you in, you know? There’s no laws against it, it’s just been cracked down on during the Pandemic.”

“Huh?” Nate tilted his head, his nose running slightly. Now that the worst of his tears had gently fizzled away, his eyelids were heavy and his eyes were burning with fatigue. In fact, he could feel the exhaustion settle into his bones, and he knew that in about an hour he could be asleep on the hospital floor, even with those fluorescent lights shining in his face.

“They should let you in.” Milly repeated, pushing herself up and walking over to the nearest desk before Nate could even think about responding.

He kept his mouth shut, watching her talk to the receptionist from afar, not able to hear the exact words over all the hubbub, but getting the general gist of it when Milly half-turned to point at him. He couldn’t help it when his mouth flattened into a straight line and his eyes awkwardly averted themselves…before immediately flicking back over to the conversing pair, slightly afraid he’d miss something yet shaking in his shoes  at the thought of a shaking head of denial.

Milly patted the counter, before wandering back over to the group of them all, teammates sitting up straighter in their chairs and against the wall, eager eyes fixed on their captain, anticipation shimmering in their eyes.

Nate swallowed nervously, his hands still shaking and stomach still rolling. He was sure he looked as pale as he felt, as sickly as he felt. Milly’s avoidance of his stare was unnerving.

“I think I’m gonna go.” Milly came to a standstill in front of Nate, her expression unreadable, and before Nate could even stutter out an urgent ‘why?’, someone down the line beat him to it.

“It’s getting late, and we know she’s okay.” Milly paused, not quite knowing what to say, “I don’t want to overwhelm her, and we’re not gonna see her tonight, anyway.”

Nate blinked, jaw ticking, and when he looked back up, the corridor was nearly deserted. Milly was hovering near him, watching as the last body filed around the corner, shoulders slumped as she disappeared from view, before turning to him, “They said the doctors would be less likely to let anyone in if there was a massive group of people outside the room. I don’t know it’s gonna help your chances now, but…”

Nate felt his jaw drop before he registered what he was doing, quickly clamping it shut with a grateful nod of his head, “Thank you.”

She shrugged, “It’s nothing.”

“You can stay, too, y’know–”

“Oh, no. I appreciate the offer, but if me not being here is the difference between you getting to see her or not, I’d rather not risk it.” She breathed a laugh, “Besides, I’ve got kids waiting for me at home.”

He nodded absently, and Milly had the strangest sense that he wasn’t completely there. He was inside his head, eyes a little bit unfocused as he looked in her general direction; his knee was bouncing, whether he’d noticed that or not she couldn’t tell – but she knew none of that would disappear immediately. At least, not until he’d be granted permission to enter the room and see her for himself.

And for that reason, she chose not to offer any words of comfort – they’d fall on deaf ears. Instead, she did something she’d been working up the courage to ask him for a while now..

“Um, this isn’t the right time to be asking this, I’m well aware, but you wouldn’t happen to know any sports psychologists I could get in touch with, would you?” 

For a harrowing and humiliating moment, Milly thought she’d just have to turn around, that the slight furrow of his brow as he stared relentlessly at that spot on the wall was just because she interrupted a comforting silence, but five seconds passed before she realised he was thinking.

His fingers fumbled with his phone as he removed it from a pocket, and she started, heart hammering in her chest when it slipped in his grip, before he caught it and switched it on.

“I know a few, actually. I have a few numbers if you want me to send them to you?”

She nodded, “Yes please.”

“Do you have a preference as to whether it’s a guy or–”

“No.”

She passed him her phone, watching as he typed in her phone number, still watching when her own phone lit up with three notifications of contacts he’d shared with her. When he passed her own phone back to her his eyes looked less troubled. They’d cleared up, less red than they had been, and he’d clearly been glad for a distraction.

“Thank you.” She breathed, managing a smile, “Hey, you can sit on the bench now everyone’s gone.”

Nate nodded, but made no move to get up. He wasn’t entirely sure why but the thought of sitting on the chairs instead of the floor felt way too real – it’d just solidify the reason that he had a right to sit there because of someone in one of the rooms, and his very bones felt heavier at that thought. 

Milly grinned, “She’ll be fine.” 

He said nothing to that, just gestured half-heartedly at the floor, “It’s cosier here.”

***

Mia had never been so achy and sore without exactly remembering what she’d done to feel those consequences. Everything hurt: her legs, her hips, her arms, her ribs, her head – gosh, her head! It felt like she’d been laid underneath a pneumatic drill and lived to tell the tale. Her nerve endings were on fire, mostly throughout her entire body and the sheer strength of the pain rendered her…well, she was so exhausted she couldn’t really cope with being awake for longer than a minute or so.

Her eyelids would get hot and droopy, and despite how hard she tried to keep herself awake, for her parent’s reassurances, the screaming agony in her head sent her eyes rolling and she succumbed to a brief period of sleep. Still, she didn’t feel a single ounce better having napped at all. If anything, each time she opened her eyes it felt as though the pain magnified for a brief second, like her body forgot it had been pumped with painkillers and she was just experiencing all the pain she possibly could.

That wasn’t even including the odd patches of her memory, though that she learnt through what she’d been told. Apparently this game wasn’t the one they’d won by a landslide – that had in fact been a month ago, yet she could still remember going to the grocery store three days ago and even though she was pretty sure something was missing from the hospital room, she couldn’t quite find the words for it and when she’d rather blearily croaked that concern she’d been thrown a quick ‘don’t think too much right now, honey’.

But she had seen the shared glance between her parents right before she passed out for the umpteenth time.

Needless to say, she did wake up with the answer right at the front of her brain – it felt remarkably like finding a pair of sunglasses you’d forgotten you owned.

“Whe–” Her eyebrows knitted together and she peeled her eyes open to…an empty chair. Followed by an empty room.

She shut her eyes, able to still picture the blank screened-TV on the back wall, the shuttered blinds to the windows on her right and the lone lamp on at the end of the room. She’s never had a concussion before, and with the way she was feeling right now she didn’t have any plans of ever having one again, at least if it was up to her.

She had no idea how Nate functioned. 

Nate. She tried to sit herself up properly in bed, the thing she’d been on the precipice of remembering flashing to the forefront of her mind, but all the motion did was send her stomach rolling, and before she could even think, her hands found the cardboard bowl laid on her lap, like someone had put it there in anticipation of this very moment, and heaved into the bowl. The pressure in her head sent a blinding pain from the temple with the bandage over it, right through her brain to her ear on the other side and all behind her eyes. She almost passed out again right there; she could feel the blood drain from her face and the familiar whooshing feeling as though her consciousness had fallen through her body and into the mattress beneath her. Her vision went black, spotty around the edges, but for some reason she could hear the sound of a door opening and closing, the rushed footsteps that only seemed to get louder and the hushed, reassuring voice in her ear as a warm hand helped lower her back against the pillows.

She knew just from the slight cloud of familiar aftershave that billowed around her exactly who it was. She might not be able to do much, think much or remember much at that moment, but Mia could recognise familiarity. It was like muscle memory, except her brain could decode it easily.

She kept her eyes shut and screwed up, willing the dizziness away – it gripped at the base of her throat and if she could compare the sensation to anything else, it was remarkably similar to how she imagined falling through a dark abyss whilst being unrolled from being tangled in some kind of tape. The scrunching up of her eyes, however, pulled awkwardly at something stuck to her temple; it sent a sharp stab of pain right across her cheekbone and into her hairline, and before she could even register what it was her fingers had found a padded sheet taped across the side of her face.

A band-aid.

Once the dizziness had subsided, she slowly peeled her eyes open, millimetre by millimetre, as if she was afraid something might jump out at her if she ripped them open too quickly.

Nate was sitting looking very awkward in the chair closest to the bed, one of his hands holding the cardboard bowl on Mia’s lap and the other gently tugging her hand away from her bandage. 

She could see there was a brief moment when she looked at him that something had changed, a window shattered somewhere perhaps. He looked like he’d been through the wringer: hair messed up (very uncharacteristic), cheeks somehow even paler than usual, eyes red, hands shaking, and fearful.

She couldn’t say for certain why he felt the latter but she could read it in his face, in his body language. She’d never seen him look so not-okay and put-together before.

In hindsight, it was not only cruel to do what she did next, but given the events of the day and how completely naive she was to other people’s experience of what happened, it most definitely was not the best idea:

“Are you a doctor?” She mumbled blearily. Mia was never really that great at pretending to do anything, whether it was a little white lie or something just to rile someone up, but there wasn’t much pretending about how tired she was or how confused she was in that moment; the blinking and the blank stare were all real, and in Nate’s eyes, borderline apocalyptic.

See, he’d been informed of her condition and spotty memory, but no one could say for certain just what was ‘in’ and what was ‘out’ because there were so many inconsistencies and no one had really wanted to poke around where there were gaps in case it just caused more frustration than hope, so this four word question? Completely believable.

He saw Mia laid in bed, and taking into consideration what he’d previously been told, he figured it made sense. That didn’t mean to say his face didn’t drop further or his stomach didn’t plummet to the floor below or he didn’t feel the familiar twang of bile rising or the world didn’t just flip on its axis.

His entire relationship flashed before his eyes: four years, a dog, a house, two cars, dates, holidays, vacations, inside jokes, and it all crumbled at his feet with a simple question.

He’d run through it in his head, the possibility that she might not remember him quite yet, and it was understandable. He wasn’t mad at all, in fact he was all too willing to take a step back and let her recover in a more familiar environment where he was potentially isolated from her and everything he knew, but that had only been a possibility. Now it was looking like a reality and the only thing he felt was panic. There were alarms blaring in his head, loud protests, screaming, yelling, tears.

And somehow all he could do was blink the tears back and create some space between himself and her bed. Emotionally he wasn’t sure how to proceed but he could physically feel an invisible hand pushing him back against the chair, away from her.

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. His eyes seemed well up of their own accord, and before he could even excuse himself from the room she spoke again.

“I was just kidding.” 

He blinked, his arms freezing from where he’d gone to push himself out of the chair, and he couldn’t really bring himself to move other than to drag his blurry eyes over to Mia, his jaw clenched and his guard still up just in case she still got it wrong.

He sniffled, inhaling through his nose, and not daring to ask if she was sure. But despite looking as though she’d been hit by a bus: a band-aid stuck right over her temple with stitches hidden underneath the plastic; purple eye bags; slow, lethargic blinking; an empty stare – Mia managed to look guilty. The corners of her mouth were pulled down, and her eyes were wide, almost like she couldn’t quite believe she’d pulled it off herself. 

And if he was being honest, Nate probably would have still had a hard time believing she actually did remember him if it wasn’t for her hand. It wasn’t something specific, but she’d placed it on his knee in a hurry when he’d made to push himself out of the chair, almost as if the prospect of him leaving wasn’t something to be desired. 

She was just as scared as he was.

Nate sniffled once more, allowing himself to settle into the chair and scoot forward again. The tears hadn’t disappeared, nor had the trembling, but his heart had eased up slightly once the realisation that, no, she hadn’t lost her memory of him had sunk in.

Then, and only then, he managed to speak, “You’re such a meanie.” It was more of a broken croak that had to be deciphered than something more intelligible than he would have liked, but after she winced at the volume of his voice already he found himself glad he sounded as broken as he felt.

She tried to smile, but her eyes fluttered shut of their own accord part way through the action, and she sighed, clearly completely drained, before rubbing her closed fist in a circle over her chest.

Sorry.

He shook his head despite the futility of it, and instead took the rather chilly, limp hand still resting on his knee into his grasp, leaning further forward so he was pretty much level with her. He allowed himself to breathe for a second, probably the first time he’d managed to do so since it had happened, and even though the tightness in his test remained, even though he still felt pretty emotional, he could at least look at her – like he’d done so many times in his life already – and know she was okay. 

Up close, he could see the plaster on her temple was darker in the centre and peeling at the edges slightly from where they’d pressed it into her hair, and on the other end he could see where someone – Mia herself – had started to pick at the edge, most likely out of curiosity. There was bruising along her cheekbone, and he knew from when he’d walked into the room in the first place that she had some other bruising on her jaw on the other side of her face from where she’d smacked into the grass.

That wasn’t even mentioning the dislocated shoulder, which, for now, was secured in a sling.

He was almost scared to touch her, not quite sure what would hurt or what wouldn’t, and before he could even deliberate any of that she was blinking again. Awake. She inhaled through her nose, wincing when her shoulder moved fractionally with the effort, and came to slowly. It was as though she was surveying the room for the first time again: her eyes were curious but not wide and she squinted at the light emanating from the little lamp, and Nate had to wait patiently for her to sweep her gaze around to him.

He tried a tight smile, his hands still clutching her free one in a warm embrace, and he could see the cogs benign to turn in her mind as she remembered when he’d come in. She eyed him sceptically, but this time (before his mind could run away from him) she gave him a lazy side-eye of sorts.

He breathed a laugh at the expression on her face, reaching over to smooth some of her hair down. He made sure to be gentle, not pulling on the hair too hard or pressing down on her head – rather just let it float back over to the right side of her parting, watching it fall as he did. He wasn’t quite sure what Mia had been expecting though because when he pulled back a little bit her mouth was pressed into a tight line.

“What?” He breathed a laugh, leaning forward on his palm to flick away more stray strands of hair. It seemed the closer he got the more he noticed that no one had taken particular care in brushing said strays out of her face, because he knew, even from looking at the way her nose kept twitching, that the tickling was intolerable. 

“When can we go home?” 

Nate swallowed, unable to look her in the eye as he shrugged. Nobody had told him anything. Her parents had left and told him as much as they could but they couldn’t say anything apart from the fact that she was okay – in fact, nobody even knew he was in here. His (almost) in-laws had gone to the cafeteria, running on nothing but coffee, and there hadn’t been anyone else really around when Nate heard the tell-tale sounds of…yeah. Needless to say he hadn’t really thought twice about bursting into the room to help her. She wouldn’t have if the situation was reversed, though from experience she did tend to lie to the medical professionals and just say they were married, something that had rather inconveniently slipped his mind in his panic-fueled state.

“I don’t know.” He whispered, if the quietness of his voice could even be considered such a thing. A fairy-whisper, perhaps: delicate, blink and you’ll miss it kind thing, “You’re on stroke watch, sweetheart, I don’t think it’ll be for another day or two.”

Her eyes shut again, and if it wasn’t for the tick in her jaw, Nate would have guessed she’d just fallen unconscious again.

“Are you okay?” He’d said them before he could stop himself. They’d been on the very tip of his tongue all day nearly, and his will had worn so low that he’d just given up and given in.

In all honesty, he wasn’t expecting much of a reply. Mainly because he knew concussions were hell on earth, especially fresh ones as bad as this, but also because she’d been poked, prodded, sewn up, and asked things already. She must be sick of it all, but…he had to know. 

She kept her eyes shut but her free shoulder shrugged as best as it could, “Hurts.” She mouthed.

Nate nodded, resisting the insurmountable urge to squeeze her hand and take all the pain from her, “Tap my hand twice for yes and once for no, ‘kay?” 

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards briefly, and he couldn’t help himself when he dropped a quick kiss on the back of her hand – though he couldn’t say for sure if it was supposed to help her more or help him more. 

Tap-tap.

“Do you need me to do anything? Get anything for you?”

She seemed to think about it for a second before pointing at something on the far end of the room and tapping his palm once.

He frowned. Lamp, no?

“Lamp off?” He thought out loud, pushing himself out of his chair eagerly when she tapped his palm twice again.

The thought of using the torch on his phone didn’t really occur to him when he was blindly trying to make his way back to his seat, and much to Mia’s dark amusement he walked into the end of the bed and tripped over the legs of two chairs on his way back. 

“Anything else?”

Tap.

He waved his hand in the dark near where he guessed her arm to still be held up, and dragged his fingers up her forearm to interlock their hands like before. 

“Is the dark better?”

Tap-tap.

He sighed. It wasn’t because he was fed up – not one of those sighs – or because he was relieved, per se. It almost felt like an instinct or a habit, like when he gets into bed and manages to find a comfy position, or when he steps out onto the ice first thing in the morning when no one else is around. It was a sigh of satisfaction, yet he didn’t feel at all satisfied by anything. Sure, he was happy that he’d adjusted something to Mia’s liking, but there was so much more he wanted to know.

Where did she hurt? How much did it hurt? Did she remember last night? Is she gonna recover in time for the play-offs? 

They weren’t yes or no answers, and the last thing he wanted was to bother her. She needed the peace and quiet and the dark and cold and someone to make sure she wasn’t going to stroke like someone had off-handedly said in the hallway. Nate knew he wasn’t the only person who could give her that, but he was glad it was him sitting there holding her hand and listening intently to the sound of her breathing and the rustling of her pillow.

It sounds crazy, he knows that, but he was horrified. Less than fifteen minutes ago he was so sure something life-changing had happened that meant he wouldn’t be allowed here. He knew head injuries were unpredictable, and he knew he should be somewhat irritated for the stunt she pulled earlier, asking if he was a doctor, but he couldn’t find it within himself to be so. That one interaction had alleviated the worries and concerns he’d had – the ones that were driving him to the brink of panic attacks pretty much – more than any words anyone had spoken to him over the entirety of the night so far.

It meant Mia was still Mia, and even though she might have changed, she was still the same person. And he was going to sit with her in the dark, holding her hand, pretending he was now okay, for as long as he was allowed–

“Are you okay?”

Even in the dark his eyes turned to look at where they knew she was. He was speechless for a few seconds having thought she was asleep and stuck so far in his own head that he hadn’t even considered the alternative.

He just hummed, which earned him a meaningful tap on the palm.

No.

“It was just scary for a minute, but I’m okay now.” Then he shook his head, almost-scoffing, “I should be asking you that.”

There was a half-hearted sigh, “Been better.”

***

Mia was sick and tired of the injuries after two days at home, bed-bound by a rather strict blonde that had a penchant for frowning and putting his hands on his hips when she suggested getting up and moving around. In all fairness, she could see where he was coming from, but in her defence she needed to know she was capable of a quick lap around the house, headaches and shoulder pains be damned. 

To have gone from training numerous hours per week – per day, in fact – to suddenly not being able to cope with being in a sunlit house in a room that wasn’t the bathroom or the bedroom. She was going stir crazy, and boredom was going to be her demise, she knew it. She could feel it atrophying her soul already and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take being holed up in bed, not allowed to use screens or read or think.

Doctor’s orders. 

Although, having said all of that, Mia did find herself waking up from a nap she didn’t remember succumbing to most of the time. She must have slept on and off all day for two days, but it felt like she’d not even shut her eyes for an entire week. And the pain, oh, the pain.

Her shoulder ached each time she so much as tensed something, though that was the least of it: the dislocation hadn’t been too ugly – quickly put back in, no soft-tissue damage. Didn’t stop it hurting, though. The biggest issue, Mia couldn’t quite get a hold of. She couldn’t decipher what was the concussion, what was the temple laceration or what was the bump on the head from the ground. Somewhere along the lines, all the pain blurred into one and it just felt like her head was splitting open from the inside.

The door creaked open gently, firstly with a soft pop, like the familiar noise of when Barney would push it open with his muzzle and the handle would click out of its place, before a familiar soft pat-pat of paws could be heard vaguely padding across the carpet. It if wasn’t for Nate’s strict rule-abiding of orders (he did right, to be honest), the sound of Barney preparing himself to jump onto the bed wouldn’t have been heard. In fact, if it wasn’t for the noise of the door clicking open, Mia probably wouldn’t have blinked awake again. 

It was dark outside, the lights from the garden shining through under the blackout blinds. It wasn’t bright enough to trigger anymore headaches or a potential migraine, what with the bouncing agony from her bruises and bumps doing enough already, but it was enough to cast a sliver of dull light across the bedspread.

Mia reached out blindly, patting the duvet next to her, already anticipating the soft bark of acknowledgement before the toffee spaniel had made his way into her personal space, his nose pressed against her thigh as he laid out right next to her. She ran a loving hand through his fur.

Nate hadn’t let Barney in the room without him watching, mostly because he was a little unsure as to whether the newly-trained dog would adhere to the ‘calm’ rule he’d hoped to implement somehow, and Mia had commented on it, a quick ‘he’s a dog, they have senses for this kind of thing’, and all Nate did was sigh and watch on with a worried gaze. Needless to say, Barney hadn’t barked in her face excitedly or run across the bed or unintentionally nudged anything he shouldn’t have done, and Mia couldn’t quite tell if he was in the room now because Nate had let him upstairs or if it was just a happy accident.

Barney sniffed, and Mia paused, holding her breath in the darkness. At the same time, Barney’s ears flopped and the steps creaked, before an unmissable hiss of, “Barney?” could be heard from further down the hallway.

She felt her eyes shut again, sleep begging to reach out and pull her under again – it was the dog, he was just so warm and cuddly she was practically being lulled back to sleep with his rhythmic breathing – but she resisted, instead focusing on the hand woven into his fur until Nate inevitably noticed the crack in the door.

He didn’t say anything when he opened the door even further, didn’t say anything when he crept around to his side of the bed before pulling himself onto the mattress, the covers dipping with his weight. Barney looked up at him, and Mia felt rather than saw his hand also go to pet the dog between them.

She lifted her hand, before briefly ticking his arm to let him know she was awake, and cracked her eyes open. 

He was in his pyjamas, clearly already having showered. He’d taken to using the spare bathroom instead of the en-suite, completely adamant on not wanting to disturb Mia even though she’d told him she wouldn’t mind, and Mia knew, probably better than most people, that it was difficult to change Nate’s mind when he’d already decided what he was gonna do. 

“Did Barney wake you up?” He whispered, pushing himself further into the bedding. Mia could feel the warmth radiating off his skin, could smell the shower gel and shampoo he liked. He’d literally just gotten out of the shower.

If she had more energy she would have turned to look at him: there was something about post-shower Nathan MacKinnon that Mia found downright irresistible. In four years, she still hadn’t managed to figure out what it was, but it definitely had something to do with the flushed cheeks,  damp hair and untamed curls. 

As much as he tried to tidy it with gel, Nate couldn’t escape the fact that his hair could be wild, and in the last couple of years it had only gotten worse.

“No, I was already awake.” She whispered, the force of trying to talk still putting more pressure on her bumps and cuts. Whenever she spoke out loud it felt like her eyes were going to pop out of her head and her ears were going to bleed. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling in the world.

She turned her head in his direction, just able to make out the silhouette of his side profile: crooked nose, damp Prince hair, philtrum, mouth, chin. She couldn’t turn her head too much to the side, the lump around the back of her head making getting comfy even against a pillow difficult, yet the slight movement, slight rustle of the sheets had him almost instantly turning towards her. That was something she’d noticed that had changed: he seemed to jump at anything she did, whether it be to reach a hand out to grab her water bottle or simply turn to look at him.

She could imagine the wide eyed gaze as he scanned her face for signs of pain until he relaxed when he realised that all it was was shuffling. The alarm bells were still ringing.

There was a brief pause, and Mia took her hand out of Barney’s fur to poke Nate in the ribs. He jumped at the contact, still unused to the darkness, and grabbed her hand to stop her doing it again, breathing a soft, amused laugh, “Liar.”

“I was gonna wake up soon anyway.” 

“You hungry?” 

“Yeah.”

Mia felt herself relax under his touch, his fingers playing with hers, finding their way in the dark across the back of her hands right around to her palms before straightening her fingers and placing a delicate yet hurried kiss to the back of her hand. She didn’t even have enough time to query exactly what it was he was about to do before he’d pushed himself up off the bed, Barney sitting attentively, and placed his hands on his hips leisurely. 

“You want anything specific?” Nate asked, absent-mindedly placing his leg on the bed to stretch out his hamstring. 

“What did you have?”

“Chicken and chorizo pasta.”

“Can I have some of that, please? It sounds so good right now.”

There was a muffled sound, crossed between a sarcastic scoff and a snort of laughter, “No. You absolutely cannot have it right now–”

“No–”

“Yeah, we’re gonna do your dressing first. C’mon.”

Mia groaned, pulling the duvet back up to her chin to give her some protection before Nate would undoubtedly just rip it off her and pick her up, like he had the past four times he’d changed her dressing. The first time she did it there was little resistance from her end, mostly because she had no idea that cleaning the wound was going to be that nauseating, but also because she literally couldn’t be bothered trying to resist a hockey player that boarded men twice her size on a regular basis. 

Now, though? Not only did she despise the entire process, but she couldn’t deny the fact that being difficult was rather amusing for her – mostly because of how Nate handled it, because he handles it. She’s never heard him talk so much yet so calmly all whilst trying to scoop her up without simultaneously accidentally hurting her.

“-five seconds and it’ll be done until tomorrow, and if you think about it–”  he made his way around to Mia’s side of the bed and she felt her face screw up in dread almost automatically when he began trying to tug at the duvet she’d gripped as tightly as she could, “-if you really think about it, the food is kind of like a reward, and it’s better to get it done now rather than spend the next, like, forty minutes worrying about it–” he sighed, cutting himself off and staring at the scene in front of him. Mia knew him well enough to know stillness and silence meant he was thinking.

“What are you–Put me down.” Mia watched as Barney scurried off the bed, the duvet disappearing under him as Nate managed to force his arms underneath her body to lift her up, duvet and all. 

“Never.” He breathed in her ear before laughing like a Disney villain, managing to somehow look down at his feet to make sure he didn’t trip and cause another trip to the ER, and no matter how much she moaned and groaned, Nate didn’t put her down until he’d made it to the bathroom and placed her ever-so-gently on top of the lid of the toilet.

It was cold against the plastic, much colder than the sanctuary of the bed with a dog cuddled up to her side, and Mia shivered in her shorts and t-shirt, goosebumps arising on her skin – something that didn’t exactly go unnoticed by Nate. He took one look at her shivering and opened the bathroom blinds to let in some dull, natural light before turning around and grabbing a sweatshirt from the pile of clothes on the floor he hadn’t had chance to tidy away, what with the hustle and bustle of trying to look after everyone (not that he minded; in fact, Nate loved looking after Mia, even though he’d never voice it, but the circumstances surrounding the situation were a little too shitty for his liking), and tossed it to her.

What he really wanted to do was tell her to lift her arms over her head, but he knew coddling someone who already hated people doing things for them would only make the irritation worse, and instead reached for the basket of supplies he’d been given from the hospital, along with the set of instructions and the bowl for Mia as a ‘just in case’...the last thing anyone wanted, including Barney, was a repeat of the first time he’d done this. 

He could still picture it so clearly in his head.

When he turned back around, trying to read the pamphlet by moonlight and garden-light, Mia had her eyes closed and was running her fingers through her hair, wincing each time she accidentally pulled a knot. 

He couldn’t help watching her for a moment, almost mesmerised that someone could power through that amount of pain administered by themselves. Gosh, he loved her to smithereens.

“You ready?” He propped himself on the edge of the bathtub, back hunched over slightly to get himself eye-level with the plaster stuck to her temple. It was thick, most likely incredibly uncomfortable, and half-stuck in her hair. It was the only way the stitches into her hairline would be protected when she was laid down, or doing anything, really.

She nodded, and he kept his eyes fixated on her side profile, eager to drink in any possible changes in her expression that meant she was uncomfortable with anything he did. Sometimes it was a miniscule scrunch of her brows, other times it was an involuntary wince displayed by her mouth. He’d noticed her breathing changed when she was in pain too, which was a rather odd thing to come to recognise – watching someone you cared about hurt was one thing, but to watch them be in pain so constantly that you can recognise the little things? It was strange.

“I’m so hungry.” Was all she said, scooping her hair to the other side as he leant forwards to start to pick at one of the edges. It didn’t take much. He wasn’t even sure if Mia was aware she was doing it, but there was one edge right above her cheekbone that had been so obviously picked at that all he really had to do was grab onto the corner and slowly and cautiously pull. He kept one palm on the side of her head at all times, ensuring her hair remained out of the stickiness, his eyes darting from what he was doing to her face every few seconds.

Once he’d removed the plaster completely he folded it in half, balancing it on the side of the bath before doing something he’d not been able to do yet: dampen a clean washcloth with water, and gently dab the stitches. 

Mia’s face contorted almost immediately, the corners of her eyes crinkled and her mouth pulled up at the corners in a grimace, but she held still, keeping her gaze level and forward, hands clutching the bowl on her lap.

“Let me know if you want me to take a break or if I’m pressing too hard, okay?” Nate murmured softly, still dabbing at the wound.

He was never really one to be able to stomach the sight of wounds – at games he didn’t really have a choice, but at least then he could avert his eyes when he saw something that made his stomach turn and his head spin. This time was a little bit different, in fact, this entire situation was completely different because it was one thing thinking about it and another thing doing it for Mia. He had to do this, partly because he wasn’t about to let Mia do it herself, but mostly because he didn’t trust anyone else not to press too hard or to take as much care in the job as he did. It wasn’t a lot, but he made sure he did it right and softly.

It was the absolute least he could do after sneaking away for an hour here and there to practise. Mel Landeskog had offered to come over and keep watch when he wasn’t there, and the entire time he was gone he’d been anxiously checking his phone a hundred times a minute, waiting for a heart-stopping message to come through, and he hadn't managed to tear himself away again. The guilt was one thing, but the anxiety just ate him up from the inside. 

Tomorrow he decided he’d just work out in the bedroom – at least it’d give Mia something to watch when the TV was off-limits. 

“You’re doing great.” Mia sighed, peeling open the eye closest to him and shooting an amused glance in his direction. She was exhausted, but she still managed to find the effort bother to ease his concerns, “I think tomorrow…” She trailed off, silently hissing when Nate dabbed the laceration once more.

“Sorry.” He cringed, putting the washcloth down.

“It’s fine. Tomorrow I wanna move downstairs.” She got out, relaxing once she’d taken note of the put away cloth, and turned her body towards him.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing with his face but it was clearly something that warranted Mia to start spouting words so quickly he wasn’t entirely sure she was able to do with that bad of a concussion, “The curtains in the front room can stay shut but I kind of want to slowly let myself get used to some light again, and I won’t watch TV or anything.” 

He swallowed, going to pick up the dry washcloth, “What’s wrong with staying in bed?”

She rolled her eyes, “It’s shit, I feel like I’m missing out on what’s going on.”

Nate tilted his head curiously, “Nothing’s going on, though. Are you trying to tell me you’ve got FOMO from staying in the bedroom?”

“Yeah. I feel like our living room is, like, the life of this house. Everything happens downstairs.” She reasoned, returning back to her usual position when he raised the washcloth.

“Everything, huh?” He breathed, slowly wiping away the beads of water on her stitches, and those that had escaped and ran down to her jaw, “Guess that means you’ll have to camp out on the couch then. Can't have you miss anything, can we?”

Mia rolled her eyes, and Nate smirked to himself, pleased that she was clearly well enough to tolerate a bit of humour. It was the most alive she’d looked since it happened: she had more colour in her cheeks, something he’d even noticed through the constant darkness; her awake periods were longer than her asleep periods, and she was speaking more. Granted, that was an improvement from that very morning, but she was getting better at a quicker rate than he’d anticipated. Every hour seemed to ease the tightness in his chest, at least until he remembered–

Yep. There it is. The painful twinge of guilt that always seemed to strike him when he least expected it.

He swallowed anxiously, suddenly aware of a breeze against his torso and the faint tugging of his cotton shirt. The distance from where he was sitting on the edge of the bath to the toilet seat where Mia was sitting wasn’t a large one by any means, but it was still tricky enough for him to sit on the very edge to ensure he wasn’t stretching – it was why he had to look down at the culprit, half-expecting it to be Barney slobbering everywhere, and was pleasantly surprised to find a familiar hand trying to get his attention.

He pulled his own hand away from Mia’s head, placing the cloth on the side of the bath once he was satisfied the stitches were dry again before turning back to Mia to give her his full attention. She hadn’t bothered to turn her head, but was instead looking at him out of the corner of her eye, brow narrowed and a slightly suspicious look on her face.

“What?” He asked, automatically wiping at his cheek, expecting a streak of dirt to follow on his palm. Nothing.

Mia just blinked, “Are you okay? You kind of spaced out for a bit then.”

“Spaced out?” He echoed, shaking his head. 

Mia hummed, something subtly changing in her expression, “Away with the fairies.”

“Haven’t heard that one in a while.” He raised his brows before letting them drop. He wondered briefly if she was buying his ‘chill’ persona at that moment, hidden in the dark with no real way of knowing what face he was pulling. His back was to the light so he knew he was mostly shrouded in darkness – protected from an observant eye.

The same observant eye that clearly didn’t let up, no matter how splotchy her memory or how much pain she was in, because he heard her tilt her head at him, he heard her brain call him a ‘liar’ and he heard her breathe an internal sigh.

“I’m fine.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. The action felt pathetic, like something a stroppy teenager might do after getting scolded. 

Her silence said everything and nothing at the same time.

“I am. I guess I’m just coming to terms with the fact that this is how awful you must feel when I’m in your position after a game.” He mumbled it, but Mia still managed to pick his words out pretty easily – as well as the blatant pretence he immediately then displayed when he turned his attention purposefully to the basket at his feet, bending to pick up a tub of vaseline before taking the lid off and washing his hands once more.

She knew enough to know that when he acted nonchalant after admitting something was bothering him, no matter how little a thing it might seem, that sometimes he just needed that extra little dose of reassurance.

“At least you can understand why I banned you from getting head injuries, then.” She answered, turning herself so she was facing forwards once more, allowing him access to the stitches.

Nate paused, an uncertain ‘meh’ falling out of his mouth, which earned him an incredibly sharp look, “I mean I can, but now I could probably guess you get why I can’t promise you anything because most of these head injuries come from other people.” He was met with silence but he could feel the irritation practically emanating off Mia. Whenever he was right in situations where they’d had small disagreements here and there, usually about some pedantic aspect like this one, she always went dead-silent when he brought up something true. It wasn’t necessarily that she hadn’t thought of it, because the chances were that she had and it was that thing that drove her crazy, but it was knowing what she was asking was completely out of anyone’s control.

“Oh, and for the record,” Nate started, carefully spreading the vaseline against her skin and fighting the uncomfortable tingling in his toes when he ran his finger over the stitches, “I’m also banning you from getting head injuries.”

“I can try.”

He grinned, “‘S all I ask.”

“Me too.”

***

Mia wasn’t sure how long he’d been doing his little…routine. 

Every time he left a room she was in, whether it was to go to another room to pick something up and bring it back or to leave the house entirely, he’d started doing some odd things. First he’d watch her – this, she noticed him doing out of the corner of her eye – like he was giving her a once-over with a pair of X-Ray goggles, no matter how far away from her he was. Then, he’d pretend to look for something, a tissue, maybe, that just happened to be within a five foot radius of where she was sitting, and he used that ploy as an excuse to ‘walk by’ and plant a very quick kiss on the top of her head.

It might not seem odd to anyone else, but it was odd to Mia, mostly because Nate was never really the type to do stuff like that, much less when he was simply leaving the room. He might have done it if she was busy with something and he was off to the gym for an hour or two, but never for simple things. He just wasn’t that type of person.

At first she’d thought nothing of it. Maybe he just liked having her downstairs instead of shut up in the bedroom in the dark all day? That was certainly plausible. 

But then each time he did it, the action seemed to become more noticeable. Like when you hear something irritating in the background – a bird or a screechy voice – and then when you try to block it out your ears seem completely intent on honing in on that one singular thing until it becomes so glaringly obvious and unignorable that you just can’t stand it anymore. The only difference was that Mia could tolerate it, she could definitely tolerate it, in fact she welcomed it. Not only was it a rare and casual display of affection, but it was rare that they’d both be off work for this length of time and be in the house together. 

It was usually an impossible juggle of calendars and flights.

Then, because she’d noticed his little routine, she waited for it. There were a couple of times where he’d carried it out before he even announced he was leaving, a couple of times where he said where he was going first, and then – most interestingly – there were several occasions where he’d stepped out of the room, not said anything, frozen a step out of the doorway and come striding back in with intent and purpose before kissing her on the mouth or cheek depending on what she was doing. It was like he physically couldn’t stomach the thought of not completing his ritual.

It was remarkably similar to his behaviour on game days: he had a minute by minute schedule and order to do things so deeply ingrained in his mind that completing one thing slightly differently would throw everything off completely. He’d obsess over one thing and he wouldn’t be able to focus properly until he’d done it ‘right’, or he’d take it as a sign something bad was going to happen. 

One time he’d almost burnt the chicken in the oven and managed to assume that because he’d eaten burnt chicken (Mia had argued that it was charred nicely – properly done) that his pregame coffee wouldn’t have the same effect and he’d accidentally let his bowels go on the ice, and he’d be worrying about it for the entire game.

There was also the habit he’d taken to performing on Mia’s matchdays, at least when he was there to do it. He’d wake up around the same time Mia did and he insisted on filling her water bottle ready to go and he insisted on seeing her out the door (a kiss accompanied with a rather humorous but altogether fond, “kill ‘em”). If she was being completely honest, Mia found more familiarity in his behaviour this time around with her pre-game thing.

“Alright, come on.” It was Nate’s voice as he threw his car keys up and down, the metal jangling as he somehow materialised right in front of Mia, holding a hand out for her to grab. 

She paused, staring for a moment before following his arm to his face, raising a confused eyebrow. 

Come on? Come on where? As far as she was aware they didn’t have any plans, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to have plans considering her brain detested any kind of light brighter than a golden, dim one you might find in a lamp – and that wasn’t even mentioning noise. Anything louder than Barney’s huffing was a no-go if she wanted to have a headache-free day, and that very much included talking.

Nate had never been so quiet around her before, and she couldn’t deny the fact that it was amusing to watch him go to talk before remembering he had to whisper. He’d open his mouth and make a noise, the first sound in a word, and immediately clamp his mouth shut and hunch his shoulders, almost wincing for Mia. 

“Hospital.” Nate murmured softly, splaying his palm to encourage her to take it, and Mia’s mind went blank.

It must have showed on her face because Nate swallowed, the smile on his face diminishing, a rather helpless, “Remember? Your stitches are getting taken out today.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” Mia blinked, the lie shockingly falling out of her mouth before she could catch it, “And today is…”

“Wednesday.” Whatever trace of a smile was left on his face that hadn’t already been wiped was completely gone, replaced by concerned brows and a flat line of a mouth.

“Yeah.” Mia didn’t say anything else, mostly out of fear of stressing him out even more, but partly because she wasn’t sure what else could be said.

She reached for his waiting hand, the warmth from his skin seeping into hers, and it was only as she’d stood up – perhaps a little too quickly because the blood rushed to her head – that she could recognise the look on his face was a little more familiar. He was still getting used to the usual worries of watching someone else heal.

“Confusion and brain fog is pretty normal, y’know?” He framed it like a question, but they both knew he was reassuring the little voice in both their heads that screamed something deeper was clearly wrong. Mia just nodded, accepting the baseball cap, eye mask and sunshades he’d just handed her, trying her best not to wobble when he ever-so-carefully tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

There was something about his close proximity that she’d had to endure within the last few days that subtly changed something for her – maybe it was the vulnerability of this entire ordeal; she’d reached a new level of Nate having to look after her considering the fact that she was almost fully dependent on him. In her eyes a switch had been flicked somewhere, and their relationship had just rocketed upwards in intensity. Every little glance he’d snuck at her, even if it was just to check to see if she was okay, and every little thoughtful gesture he’d carried out, all combined with the closer proximity and steady, reassuring hand made her feel a little woozy in a completely different way.

It was why she hurriedly put the cap on so she wouldn’t have to look at him, because she knew what those damned pale blue eyes were doing, and also why she didn’t bother asking about the eye mask, although the use of that became abundantly clear when she climbed into the car.

He wanted to hide the sun for her.

***

“What about your memory? Has any of that changed for you yet, or do you still have those same holes we identified earlier?” 

Mia winced, taking the hand offered to her and squeezed, determined not to look like she was in too much pain. The doctor that was removing her stitches was doing an alright job (she thought at least, she couldn’t say she was an expert), but there was something almost nauseating about the tugging she could feel on the side of her head, especially with how sore and tender her temple already was. 

And the questions weren’t helping, not at all. 

She inhaled through her nose, fighting to keep her voice even, “Some of it’s changed, I guess.” Nate squeezed back three times, “I can remember more of that morning and the lead up days, but I still have moments where I…it’s brain fog, I guess.”

“Oh, yes,” the doctor voiced, and the lack of shock and concern in their voice almost had Mia raising a celebratory fist, “that’s understandable and expected, just as long as it wasn’t anything too important or too obvious?”

“No, I just forgot what day it was.”

The doctor let out a low chuckle, “I think we’ve all been there. There’s nothing like showing up for work on your off-day because you’d been so busy you forgot to check the date. It’s both a blessing and a curse.”

“Tell me about it.” Mia muttered under her breath, almost deaf to the low laughs from both sides of her as she kept her eyes screwed shut. The blinds in the room were all open, and to top that off the doctor had one of those head torches on, the light glaring even through her closed eyelids. It kept bouncing around her vision as they moved their head, presumably to look at the tray to their right and then to look back at Mia’s head and so on, and she could feel the familiar niggle of something start to prick at the back of her head.

“Okay, stitches are out. Just one moment and I’ll shut the blinds for you.” She felt her own shoulders deflate of their own accord, the tension quite literally seeping out of her once she heard the wheel of the office chair followed by the pair of footsteps walking towards the windows.

It was only when the room appeared to be enveloped in darkness that she opened her eyes. Nate had the stitch-care pamphlet in his hand again, a pen in the pocket of his shirt, and even as the doctor was explaining the next steps for care he wasn’t opting to write much down. Mia half suspected he’d already done extensive research and memorised the care leaflets anyway, but he was always gonna be drinking in information from someone more qualified than what his laptop told him.

The grip he had on her hand had loosened, and the more she looked at him, Mia could see that it was his shoulders that seemed to be tense. It almost looked as though her uncomfortability had been passed directly to him because he was sitting pinstraight in the chair pulled up and he looked so dead serious Mia felt the urge to poke him in the ribs. Let him know he needed to chill a bit more.

It wasn’t anything the doctor was saying, in fact, it couldn’t have been anything the doctor was saying because that body language and that stern, rather timid look on his face didn’t let up, not even three hours later when Mia had curled up on the couch and Nate had taken residence wedged at the other end with a bowl of food – Mia’s to be precise. He’d given her too much and she couldn’t finish it without thinking it was all gonna come back up later, so he’d hoovered up the last of it.

He still looked on edge about something.

So she poked him with her foot, toes meeting a solid thigh.

He chewed, the muscles in his jaw working as his neck snapped to look at her. There was a slight crack in his demeanour then, that brief moment where he thought she was getting his attention for the worst kind of reason, but it had dissolved before she could dwell on it too much.

“Why are you being weird?” She asked, tilting her head and faking an overly suspicious glance that had him freezing right where he was.

His eyes darted across her face, seemingly searching for something to grab on to, but when he came up with nothing he finished his mouthful and shook his head, fiercely denying her accusation.

“I’m not being weird.” He mumbled, a crease between his brows.

Mia pulled a face, “You’re being so weird.”

“How am I being weird?”

Mia gaped, eyes darting to his bowl when his hand trembled and his fork clinked against the porcelain. That one little weakness was enough proof because he blinked at his hand before almost comically turning towards Mia, his cheeks a little red.

“That for one.” Mia pointed out, “And that thing you do when you leave the room, what’s that about? And you were being super weird at the doctor's appointment the other day.”

He huffed a laugh, still staring at her incredulously, “Aren’t you chatty today?”

“I feel so much better.”

“Can tell, you haven’t shut up.”

“I’ve got, like, two weeks of talking to get out of my system, don’t I?” She paused, taking a breath, “Even so, you haven’t answered my question.” Another foot poke.

He hesitated, before ultimately deciding to put his bowl on the coffee table in front of them. Mia watched every move carefully, a hint of foreboding settling in her bones as he reached over to mute the TV. She thought breaching the topic of Nate’s weirdness wouldn’t bring this level of wracked nerves, or this unreached height of seriousness – there wasn’t anything she was aware of that warranted him to do all of those things and then also turn to face her.

“Okay, so, you know how you couldn’t remember stuff after the head injuries, and then you said you could remember stuff at the hospital?” 

Mia nodded, cemented in her spot, unable to say anything.

“How much do you remember of the night before?” 

Mia had seen movies like this: whenever a character asked a question of that gravity with that grave, worried expression on their face, there was always a catastrophic confession coming next.

The difference between those kinds of movie scenes and this one was that Mia remembered the night before. And none of what she remembered would require this level of…solemnity. At all. Absolutely none of it.

She came home from work, they both talked about their days, a movie with dinner, then bedtime. Nothing spectacular.

“Everything.” She said, and this time it was her turn to frown, “Why?”

Nate inhaled, scratching his chin unsurely, before looking her straight in the eye, and with a completely flat voice spat out – with conviction – “I think we’re fighting.”

Mia waited for a moment, just the one, thinking maybe he’d say he was joking or he’d take it back, and when it became clear he wasn’t going to, she laughed.

He had to be joking.

And the fact that he let out a few breaths of laughter himself made her think that he was, but all of that came to a grinding halt when he shut up and instead patted her shin sympathetically, no trace of amusement on his face whatsoever. 

“I’m being serious, sweetheart.”

Mia sighed, the aching in her head returning. The headaches from the concussion had started to subside lately, and the stitches on her temple were healing nicely, it was just the bump that still ached from time to time, from where she’d fallen on the ground. The lump was still there, it was a bit more stubborn than her shoulder and everything else.

“You think we’re fighting or you know?”

He shrugged, “You told me about LA and we–we fought.”

“About LA?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

“How do you remember it?”

***

“What did you say?”

Nate froze, the blood in his body going cold at what Mia had just said, and so offhandedly, too. Like it wasn’t this big thing that could change things. Mia had her back to him, licking some honey sauce off a finger before putting on the oven gloves and placing the tray in the oven.

“I told them I’d think about it but I’m gonna say no.” Mia practically rolled her eyes.

In what world would she have said yes? Really. She couldn’t even begin to picture a new life in LA, and for that the answer she’d given them on the phone then and there was a sure ‘no’. She knew without even having to talk to anyone else or think too much about it to know what she was going to do. It had really been that easy.

And, rather naively, Mia had assumed Nate would also have known that.

Only, when she spun on her heel after shutting the oven door, Nate had a strange look on his face: he’d come from a full day of training in the gym so naturally he looked a little haggard anyway – pink cheeks, tired eyes – but that didn’t explain the deep furrow between his brows or the fractional tilt of his head or the unpursed mouth. No, that all equated to confusion, Mia had seen him wear that exact face before. And in this case, his confusion pertained to that of her own loyalty. 

He breathed a short laugh, a ‘huh’, and Mia put one hand on her hip, raising a brow.

“Why?” His voice was tentative, but there was a hint of curiosity that Mia dreaded to wonder the cause of.

“Does it matter?” She heard her voice waver, pitch higher and her metaphorical hackles raise in defence. 

She’d never felt that before with Nate.

He shrugged, moving to sit on an island stool, hands clasped together in front of him, forearms pressed against the marble. His hair looked blonder in the harsh lighting, almost blinding, and when he looked up to speak Mia had to avert her eyes, “Not necessarily,” there was a ‘but’ coming, Mia could sense it, “but what were the conditions?”

Mia shrugged, “Three years to start and a bit more money.”

“How much more?”

Mia felt her eyes widen, “Not a lot. Why are you so interested in this?”

“Because you’re my girlfriend and I love you and I want to know where your head’s at.” He blurted it all out after one miniscule moment of hesitation, it couldn’t have been more than half a second, and if it weren’t for the way his hands fell flat against the marble in a display of clear honesty, Mia might have thought he had an ulterior motive.

His contract only had one season left, too. It was a pretty damn odd time for two athletes in Colorado, especially when both of their futures were kind of up in the air. It went without saying that Nate wanted to stay and Mia wanted to stay, but there was also that incredibly slim chance that neither of them did, and they were both a little too afraid to even broach the subject of what would happen if someone got to stay and the other didn’t.

And whether she realised it or not, the ‘can I think about it?’ that had fallen from her mouth when she’d first gotten the LA call – even despite knowing the answer already – had been because of that. She needed a contingency, she needed to go to Colorado with proof that she was wanted elsewhere if she wanted to fight to stay.

And if it weren’t for his hands then, Mia would have stayed at her own side of the counter. Instead, she made her way around to him, pulled her own stool out next to his and twisted her body so she was facing him, her knees knocking gently against the side of his thigh.

“I want to stay in Colorado. I love it here, I have my family, I have my friends, teammates, a dog, you. I have an entire life and the last thing I’d want is to leave it all behind for more money in LA. We’re not exactly short of it in the first place, and it’s not my priority.” She said, as firmly and as gently as she could muster. There was a lull, Nate looking at her carefully, chewing the inside of his lip.

His eyes were darting across the planes of her face as though he was searching for hints of something he’d never find. It was only when she stuck her tongue out at him that he leant on his elbow, his head pointed in her direction.

“And your priority is…”

“Me, I guess. I want to be happy.”

He nodded, “And you’re happy here?”

Mia smiled, “I’m happy here. In Colorado. In this house. In this kitchen. On this chair. With you.” 

It was almost as though the smile on his own face was there without ever really being known to him; the corners of his mouth were turned down but his face was smiling, as though the blush on his cheeks had frozen the rest of him.

“With me?”

“I’m surprised too.” 

***

“Yeah, and then you didn’t talk to me for the rest of the night and you left without saying goodbye and the next time I see you you’re on a hospital bed.” He threw his arms up in a questioning manner, a deeply confused half-smile, half-scowl as Mia recoiled, having severe difficulty in trying to understand his perspective.

“I didn’t ignore you, okay? We were watching a movie and I was tired.” 

Nate spluttered, briefly turning away before turning back to face Mia, who was now grinning like she knew something he didn’t, “What about in the morning?”

“Easy explanation.” Mia shrugged, “I told Iona about the LA offer and she called me at six in the morning to get me into the office to finalise contract terms with Colorado.”

Nate opened his mouth, about to say something before he stopped. He was about to ask why he wasn’t woken up, but at that exact moment his brain seemed to digest the latter half of what was said.

Finalise contract terms with Colorado.

And then he was talking without his brain really knowing what he was saying, “Wait, you finalised a contract with Colorado?”

Mia nodded, “Yeah. It’s pretty much the same deal as what LA offered.”

“How similar?”

Mia raised a mischievous brow, and Nate knew what was going to be said next was about to blow his mind. When she looked at him like that, something was gonna happen, and he felt his heart quicken for an entirely different reason than what he’d become used to lately – anticipation. The good kind.

“Five years and a little bit more per annum than what LA offered.”

He blinked. Heart beat six times before he found the breath in his lungs and the voice in his throat, “Five years?” His voice wavered completely against his will, it came out all breathy and mushy, and he wasn’t in control of his own bodily reactions to the load of relief that had cleared itself from his shoulders, not even when he felt his eyes begin to prick with emotion again.

Mia’s smile diminished at his reaction, it didn’t disappear, but the edges were a little softer, more understanding, perhaps. She’d been through a lot lately: hospital appointments, days in bed in pain, meetings with her people, recovery plans, and the one thing she’d been able to rely on this entire time was the big softie sitting right in front of her, getting uncharacteristically emotional at the prospect of her signing on for another five years.

And Mia knew how his mind worked. He’d probably been preparing himself for some part of his life to change, whether it be him moving out of state or Mia moving out of state – so much so that he probably hadn’t been able to let himself even think about both of them staying. There had been a countdown in his head for months.

“Yeah.” She answered, reaching out to grab his forearm. Somewhere in the midst of the clarification conversation he’d turned to sit straight, limbs locked against his torso and hands placed neatly in his lap. She pulled the nearest forearm over to her, using as much of her strength as she could possibly muster, listening to the aching of her shoulder and patting him to get the message across, and he turned his head to look at her again, a watery smile on his face as he lifted his shoulder up and tugged her into his side.

“I’m proud of you, y’know?” He pressed his forehead to the corner of hers, incredibly mindful of any soreness that he knew to still persist, and slumped against the cushions of the couch so he was more laid, legs sprawled out on the floor in front of him.

Mia rolled her eyes fondly, comfortably adjusting herself in his embrace. Even with a short sleeved t-shirt he was warm – kind of like a massive human teddy bear. Always a great hugger, something she’d actually missed the last couple of weeks, “I haven't signed the contract yet, I was a bit preoccupied after the match.”

She felt him pull away, and when she turned to look at him, his eyes had cleared, that familiar bright blue almost dazzling in the light, and he wore an expression of chagrin, “Hey, I know we talked about it earlier, but you’re really not allowed to get a head concussion again, ever. That shit’s way too scary.”

Mia just levelled him with a knowing expression and he read it easily, muttering a heartfelt, “Congratulations, honey. You’re stuck with me for another five years.”

[thatchickwiththecamera]

Hi!!

Can you write something related to Matt? I'm soooo obsessed with him lately.

Not a specific request, just Matt 🥺

Thank you!!!!

Author’s Note: Someone sent in two requests in one ask for Matt and Ruffilo. Since this wonderful anon didn’t specify what they wanted their request regarding Matt to be about, I am responding to the Matt portion of that double prompt through this request!

Check out my other writings here: MASTERLIST

Warning: Contains Smut, 18+ ONLY

The Shirt

The blazing rays of the morning sun were already bearing down on Olivia’s shoulders as she unloaded the bags of fertilizer and potting soil out of the trunk of her RAV4. Even at 7am, Texas in the middle of July was scorching and that heat would take a bite out of you really quick if you weren’t careful. 

As she was stacking the last bag on top of the pile she had made on the corner of her driveway, a truck drove up onto the concrete slab and parked next to her. The bed of the truck was loaded down with various gardening tools, cuts of lumber, and a number of plants nestled in their temporary plastic pots. 

Matt Dierkes, one of Olivia’s oldest friends, emerged from the driver’s side, his long hair covered by one of his signature ballcaps. He wore an old Bloodline tee with the sleeves cut off and a pair of athletic shorts with the name of their high school printed on them. 

Matt had the next three months off before his next set of shows with the guys and had agreed to help Olivia build her own garden and green space in her backyard. Gardening was a hobby he had picked up during the pandemic when the music industry shut down touring wise so she naturally turned to her best friend for help when deciding to start her own. 

Shortly after he stepped out of the vehicle a little blonde blur of fur hopped out as well and bolted toward where Olivia stood. She stopped what she was doing and scooped Matt’s yorkie Boo up into her arms and hugged him to her chest as he licked her face in greeting. 

She let out a laugh in response and lowered herself into a criss-cross sitting position on  the ground to continue playing with her friend’s furry child. Matt lowered the tailgate of his truck and paused, peaking around the truck to watch his best friend play with his dog. The view made him smile. Two of his favorites in one place.

They soon moved everything, including Boo, to the fenced in backyard and quickly got to work. The plan was to get as much done in one day as they could by sundown and then finish whatever was left tomorrow. The reward at the end of the project was a pair of tomahawk steaks and a twelve pack of Dr. Pepper that sat on the top shelf inside Olivia’s refrigerator. 

They finally took a break a little after noon. They had gotten the ground cleared and the three raised garden boxes built and lined with a weed barrier. Now, they laid down on the cool concrete of Olivia’s covered back porch. Olivia with a couple of pillows from one of the lounge chairs nestled under her head, Matt’s with his head propped up on the side of Olivia’s stomach, hat off, now covering his face. 

The ceiling centered above them steadily pushed warm air down over their bodies. Boo lay curled up on the elevated cooling dog bed that she bought specifically for him that she placed next to the door while they worked. 

The mixture of warm air and cool concrete made it tempting to drift off to sleep and take a nap right then and there. One of her Spotify playlists shuffled out various songs through the bluetooth speaker sitting on the edge of the porch. She hummed along to lyrics of an A Day To Remember song and found herself absentmindedly playing with the hair on Matt’s now uncovered head. She loved his long hair and dreaded the day he ever decided to cut it. 

“Hmmm, if you keep that up I am going to end up falling asleep.” Matt commented, voice partially muffled by the hat. 

He moved the hat slightly, peaking to look over at her with a smile. Her eyes were closed and a content smile adorned her face as she continued to fiddle with his light brown locks. He reached up with his right hand and poked her side with his thumb, knowing fully well how ticklish she was. 

She squirmed and tried to swat it away with the hand not currently occupied with his hair. He did it again and when she tried to swat at his hand, he grabbed it and pulled it toward him, trapping it in his own against his chest. She let out a laugh. 

“Matthew, if you wanted to hold my hand you could have just said so.” she said, now looking down at him with a smirk. 

He rolled his eyes, jokingly flipped her the bird before throwing the hat back over his face. Her hand remained in place on his chest, his right hand draped over it. She made no effort to move it. They fell back into a comfortable silence. She continued to play with his hair and eventually felt him start drawing slow gentle circles with his thumb against the back of her other hand. They remained that way until their stomachs signaled it was time to eat lunch and get back to work. 

By the end of the day, all three garden boxes were full of the proper ratios of soil, fertilizer, and mulch along with strategically placed irrigation hoses. Pre-grown sprouts had been transplanted from their plastic pots along with regular seeds into neatly organized and labeled rows in each box. In a few weeks Olivia would have tomatoes, various peppers, carrots, asparagus, sweet corn, and potatoes growing tall and green in her garden. 

They both agreed that it was too late and they were too tired, sweaty, and partially sunburnt to bother cooking and decided to hold off on the celebration dinner until the next afternoon. After loading the various gardening and power tools back into the bed of his truck, Matt turned and watched Olivia walk over with Boo in her arms. 

“Can’t he just stay here tonight since you’re coming back tomorrow anyway?” She asked, not wanting to part with the pint sized pup that she had come to adore almost as much as his owner over the years. 

“Liv, are you trying to steal my dog from me?” He accused, stepping closer to scratch the little dog's head before looking down at his much shorter friend with a smile. 

“I don’t have to try, he likes being here,” she defends. 

Yeah, he’s not the only one, Matt thought

“and besides, he lives here when you’re on tour and now that you’re home I miss him.” 

“Oh, so what you’re saying is you can’t wait for me to leave again.” He teases. 

“No, I’m saying that now that you’re home, I miss having Boo around.”

“So you don’t miss me when I’m on tour, but you miss my dog?” He asks. 

“I’m going to smack you,” she threatens, “you know what I meant asshole”

“Boo, are you going to let her talk to your dad that way?” he asks with a sarcastic gasp. 

“Boo, If I didn’t know any better, I’d think your dad is a little jealous.” She states, kissing the top of the dog's head, smirking at her friend. Blue eyes glowing with a hint of mischief. 

He rolls his eyes. 

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” 

“Lies,” She states matter of factly. “So can he stay?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” he replies with a sigh. 

Everyone who knew Matt knew that he was certainly not a pushover. Quite the opposite in fact. He could be an outright ass sometimes. But there was just something about Olivia that made it hard to say no, even when they were younger. He chalked it up to her just being very persuasive and good at making a convincing argument. But as they had gotten older, he knew it was because he loved seeing the way her eyes lit up with excitement when she was happy. He liked being the one that made her happy. 

When he got home, he headed straight to the shower, wanting to rinse away all the sweat and dirt that had built up over the course of the day. From the shower he lazily went through the rest of his bedtime routine before seeking refuge under the comforter. 

Despite how much his body ached and longed for rest. His mind would not allow sleep to take hold. After a while he rolled over onto his back with a frustrated sigh and stared up at the ceiling fan. His bed was noticeably colder without Boo curled up next to him. His house was too quiet. It felt odd and out of place. Like something was missing aside from the obvious absence of man’s best friend. 

He used to love the isolation being home provided after months of time spent on cramped tour buses and in shared hotel rooms, but now he was dreading the solitude. 

Before his mind could ponder further he heard a familiar notification chime from his phone. He rolled over and grabbed the device off the nightstand, the light from the screen cutting through the darkness. 

Olivia: New Text Message

He unlocked his phone and was greeted by a photo of Boo in a bathtub, hair spiked up in different directions by the shampoo lathered in his hair. The message underneath read:

Olivia: Someone knocked over the trashcan while I was taking a shower and got caught red pawed with peanut butter all over him. 🙃

The message made him smile in amusement. Boo was notorious for knocking over and digging through the garbage if you didn’t keep the trash can secured in some fashion. He had done it many times when Matt had originally moved into his own place before he finally got a heavy metal can with a push pedal lid that couldn’t be knocked over.

Before he could type out a reply another photo popped up. This one showed Boo sitting, with freshly dried fur, looking up at Olivia through the mirror on the countertop next to the sink in her bathroom. The reflection showed Olivia smiling down at her phone screen behind him as she snapped the picture, hair dryer up and ready in her opposite hand. 

She was wearing an oversized t-shirt, which was practically a dress on her short frame. Not just any t-shirt. His t-shirt. His favorite Lord of the Rings t-shirt that he thought he accidentally lost. 

But there is was, and fuck did she look good in it. 

Olivia: Pupdate: Back to his clean handsome self! 😋

He zoomed in to see that she had gathered the pups hair up into a hair tie causing the free hair to stick up like a troll doll. His smile grew wider as he typed back a reply. 

Matt: You gave my dog a ponytail? And is that my shirt? 🤨

Olivia: Yeah! You guys match now! And I don’t know what you’re talking about. Lol 🤭

Matt: 🙄

Olivia: He looks cute and you know it! 🖕

Matt: So what you're saying is you think I look cute? And stop trying to avoid the question. 🤔

Olivia: I say you match and that's all you got out of that? 🙄

Matt: You didn’t say no. 😏

Olivia: 🤐

Matt: I’m taking that as a yes until you say otherwise and I want my shirt back. 

“Boo, I think your dad is flirting with me” Olivia said to the pup curled up under her arm, big brown eyes looking at her. 

Albeit she was flirting back, but they were both arguably kinda bad at it. 

Olivia: I plead the fifth and if you want it back you’ll have to come and take it. 

Matt: That can be arranged. 

Oh shit, maybe not as bad at it as she thought. 

Olivia: You’d like that wouldn’t you? 

Well, no turning back now. They’ve officially crossed into a territory outside of the realm of just friends. 

Three little text dots popped up at the bottom and then went away. 

Shit Shit Shit. 

She felt doubt start to form like a weight in the pit of her stomach. Maybe she read the messages wrong. Maybe he wasn’t flirting? 

Twenty minutes passed with no reply. She wanted to scream, and cry, and throw up all at the exact same time. Olivia was genuinely worried that she had just royally fucked up her friendship. 

She was anxiously pacing around her room, waiting for Matt to reply, when she heard her doorbell ring from downstairs. She looked over at the clock on her nightstand. It read 11:47pm. 

Boo let out a growl at the new noise. She tried to soothe the dog before leaving him secured inside her bedroom and headed downstairs to see who the hell was ringing her doorbell in the middle of the night. She was mentally chastising herself for not investing in one of those ring doorbell cameras that she always said she was going to invest in when she moved in two years prior. 

She stood on her tip toes and looked through the peephole. She let out a slight gasp by who she saw on the other side before quickly unlocking and opening the door. There on the other side of the threshold was Matt with a very serious look on his face, his brown eyes looked darker than usual. They both said nothing, a noticeable tension filled the air as she pulled the door open wider, allowing him room to step inside. She quickly closed the door behind him and re-secured the locks. 

“Matt, wha…” she started to ask, turning around to face him. 

“Shut up.” he interjected, stepping forward and connecting their lips in a searing kiss. 

They stood like this for a moment, before he took another step and the cool wood of her front door against her back caused her to part her lips in a gasp, allowing his tongue to slip inside. His hands left her face and traveled down the seam of her shirt. His shirt. Before he reached behind her thighs and lifted her up, legs wrapping around his center, as he carried them over to the couch across the room. 

That tension felt before snapped as hands found skin and clothing met the floor piece by piece. She didn’t have time to feel shy. The desire of it all was dizzying and they both craved more. He rolled her off his lap to where she laid across the couch and he began to plant kisses along her throat. Over her breast. Down her stomach. Watching her react with each touch as he made his way to her core. 

He looked up at her as he pressed gentle kisses against her inner thigh, silently asking permission to continue. She nodded and he didn’t hesitate. Her hand quickly found its way into his hair as his tongue worked deeper. Her head snapped back into the couch pillow as he gently introduced his fingers to her folds, falling into a steady rhythm as his mouth flicked over her clit. She tried to move her hips to match his thrusts but he firmly held her in place by snaking his free arm around her thigh. 

She let out a moan as she felt herself growing closer and closer to climax. The sounds of her moans and how she breathlessly whispered his name were like music and he was desperate to hear more. She looked down at him, his eyes borderline pitch black with lust. Their gaze remained locked as she felt her body coil tighter until it snapped and she screamed out his name in pleasure. Writhing beneath him as he continued to work his fingers in and out, while kissing the overstimulated bud. 

The sound of her voice as she fell apart made his dick twitch. She whimpered slightly at the absence as he made his way back up her body and attaching her lips to his in another deep kiss. He pulled back and looked into her eyes, her pupils blown with ecstasy. 

“Are you sure about this?” He said, seeking consent to continue. 

She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into another breathtaking kiss. 

“Fuck, yes.” She breathed against his lips. 

She gripped his arms, nail leaving crescent moon indentions on the skin as he pushed inside of her. Sweat began to pool at the small of his back as she rolled her hips up to meet him, their bodies falling into a steady rhythm.

He placed his forehead against hers, eyes locked as he thrusts harder, deeper. Both chasing their high together. Olivia's eyes flutter closed as the pleasure builds closer and closer. 

“Look at me!” Matt demands. God the way he said that unlocked something in her. 

Her eyes snap back open to meet his. He picks up his pace with a grunt, alternating between deep full hilt thrusts and shallow ones that leaves her needing more. 

“Fuck, Liv, you’re doing so good for me.” He praises between his own moans. 

Her hands snake deeper into his mane of hair as they push closer and closer to the breaking point. He tries to hide his moan in another deep kiss. 

“Matt….” She whines, “so close..”

“That’s it, babygirl.” He praises, “cum for me, let me hear that pretty voice.”

She cried out his name in pleasure, star bursts dotting in her vision as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. She writhed with overstimulation as he chased his own climax shortly after. He collapsed on her chest, both of them trying to calm their ragged breathing. 

Matt quickly got up and retrieved a wet washcloth from the half bath and cleaned both of them up before laying back down and pulling Olivia on top of him along with the decorative blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. She nestled her face into the crux of his neck, he rested his chin on top of her head. 

“Matt?” Olivia asks, voice muffled by how she was laying. 

“Yeah?”

“You’re still not getting the shirt back.” She says. 

He lets out a laugh. 

“Fair enough,” he replies, kissing her forehead, “It looks better on you anyways.”

[s1k0zu]

Hey everyone,

While I was a bit (okay a lot) late to board the Austin train, once I did, I fell HARD. Before I saw him in Dune II, I knew about him, but never thought to take a second look.

Then I saw Dune and I still can't get Austin's performance out of my head. He was amazing! 😍

I've devoured everything I can find with him since then, and I've been reading a lot of fan fiction lately, and a scene has been playing on repeat in my mind, so I decided to write it down.

I love all the Feyd fics but I find myself wanting more of Austin and less of Feyd (he's just a bit too intense and I kinda miss the hair). So I came up with the idea below.

Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to try writing about something else. 🫣

Fair warning ⚠️ I've never written any fiction before, so this will probably be a mess...and it's maybe a bit too long.

🔞 It's pure smut, so minors stay away!

Under his skin

You and Austin have been together since before his Elvis movie.

You'd met when you were teenagers and became fast friends, but until you had to spend two weeks locked together in his apartment in Australia, because of the pandemic, that was all you were - friends.

You'd visited him for the weekend and then the lockdown forced you to stay.

The tension between the two of you had started escalating gradually, until one night he couldn't resist kissing you any longer. All it took was that one kiss and you were his forever.

You started getting jobs in the crew of all of his projects so you could stay together, which is why you're now in Budapest on the set of Dune II.

It's early morning and it's already as hot as hell. Add to that the giant sound box you've been setting up, so Austin can film his fight scenes in it later, and you're close to fainting.

You haven't seen Austin in two months, because he was busy training in L.A. and you were on location in Jordan with the rest of the cast.

You flew in with the night flight, dropped your bags at his place and went straight to set. He was already there, getting into costume, and you didn't have the time to see him.

Once you're done setting up and finally have some free time you head to his trailer to surprise him and wish him luck.

You open the door and cool air hits your face. Then you see him and you're sure the chill running down your body isn't from the AC.

He's gloriously naked, a black loincloth is all that covers his body. They've painted his torso with black lines and he's got his bald cap already in place. You've seen him in full costume before, but only in photos. This hits differently.

There's something feral and imposing about him and it's doing things to you. Gone is the sweet, gentle Austin you know and in his place is a man who exudes power and dominance.

His body is pure perfection and you know how hard he worked to get here.

"Hey, Earth to y/n. Are you ok?" Austin's voice comes through the fog.

"Yeah", you sigh, "It's just..."

"What?", he asks, a sly smirk forming on his lips.

"Let's just say if you weren't about to shoot, I'd be ruining your makeup right now", you say, raking your gaze over his gorgeous naked body.

"Fuck", he mutters and steps toward you, biting his lower lip, his eyes darkening with want.

"Ah, ah", you stop him, placing a hand on his chest, "makeup."

"Damn you woman! How am I supposed to focus now?", he asks brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

"Hey, I'm not the one wearing next to nothing here," you tell him, "and you're not the only one having a hard time focusing."

You brush your lips against his and his hands instantly grip your face as he deepens the kiss. All the frustration of not being able to touch each other for the past two months melts as your tongues dance frantically, fighting for dominance.

"I'll make you a deal," you say, panting, "you go slay them with your talent and we can come back here during the lunch break, to finish this."

"Deal", he says huskily in your ear, melting you with his beautiful voice.

A crew member comes in to call him to set and breaks the tension before you two can go any further.

You watch him perform, always in awe of his ability to switch between himself and the character in seconds. You busy yourself with work and bringing him water bottles and towels between takes, and just like that the hours go by and it's time for lunch.

"I can't wait to take this thing off my head. I'm sweating like a pig," Austin says, taking a towel from your hands. He's been doing fighting scenes for the past hour and he's in full combat get up.

"I'll stick around to help with the set. Text me when you're done and we can take a shower," you say, walking your fingers playfully up his chest. You lean up to give him a quick kiss but he grabs your waist to keep you there, turning it into a steamy makeout session.

"I've missed you so much," Austin breathes out, his forehead touching yours.

"I've missed you too," you say, tilting his head lower to kiss his nose.

You disengage and he heads to his trailer so the makeup team can remove his bold cap.

A while later you get a text from Austin:

R u coming? We had a deal remember?

You mutter an excuse and head towards his trailer, willing yourself not to run.

#

When you enter, you see him running a hand through his wet hair, the bald cap gone. He still hasn't removed his costume.

"Want some help with that my lord", you ask, starting to unzip the back of his wetsuit.

When he hears you call him that Austin feels a shiver run down his body. He turns and wraps his arms around you.

"Say that again," he growls.

His eyes are dark with desire and you swear you can see Feyd still lurking in the background, ready to pounce.

"You should play the bad guy more often. It's a good look on you...my lord."

"Yeah? Wanna show me just how much you like it?"

You grip his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, and kiss him long and hard, your tongues fighting for dominance. You bite his lip when he pulls away and the groan that escapes from his throat sets your whole body on fire.

He returns the favour by placing kisses on your jaw and down your neck. When he reaches your collarbone he gives it a bite in just the right spot, making heat pool between your legs.

You lean into him, feeling his erection against you and bite his earlobe, whispering into his ear: "I want you inside me."

Austin's hands tighten on your ass and he gives you a smouldering look. His blue eyes are dark with desire as he dives in to kiss you again.

You start undressing each other frantically, hands running all over, tongues locked in a dizzying dance. The room fills with the sounds of heavy breathing, your moans, Austin's groans and wet kisses.

He grabs you by the hand and pulls you into the shower.

You're both panting while he turns around to fidget with the water tap. You admire his naked body while he adjusts the temperature. He's a work of art - all lean muscle chiselled to perfection.

Your eyes travel down his chest to the trail of hair under his belly button and between his thighs and the sizeable erection he's got. His penis is perfect: a round red tip, its length marbled by veins. You can't wait to taste it and feel it inside you.

You can't believe he's yours.

"My eyes are up here, gorgeous", Austin's amused voice brings you out of your dazed wet dream.

"And what a sight they are," you smile up at him.

After seeing you standing gloriously naked before him, raking your lust-filled stare over his body, Austin can't hold himself back any longer.

His hands come up to grab your face and he bends down to devour you. As the kiss deepens, Austin's hands travel down your body, lingering on your breasts. He pinches one of your nipples and you moan into his mouth.

He breaks the kiss to look at you.

Before you can answer he bends down and licks your neck, slowly descending to your left nipple.

"Fuck you're gorgeous. I can't wait to be inside you."

You start kissing his neck, his chest, his abs, your hands trailing down to his hips. His skin tastes salty from the sweat. You kneel in front of him and lick his length slowly, feeling the veins with your tongue. He lets out a groan and braces himself against the tiled wall.

You place tiny nibbles on the head, squeezing his balls, teasing him. He shudders in ecstasy as you swallow as much of his length as you can and start moving your head up and down slowly.

"Fuck, y/n, you have to stop or I'll come...," Austin pants on top of you. You speed up your pace, locking eyes with him.

Seeing you kneeling before him, your mouth on him, looking at him like that drives him over the edge. Austin comes with a groan and you feel his seed spill into your throat. You take him out of your mouth and give the head a little kiss.

"You taste so fucking good every time," you say standing up.

Austin grabs your cheeks and gives you a rough kiss.

"You have no idea how hot you look on your knees, do you?"

When one of his hands sneaks between your legs and he rubs his fingers on your clit you feel a jolt run over your whole body and you can't stop the moan coming out of your mouth.

Austin hears you moan, hands digging into his back and throws caution away - he bites down hard on your nipple, sliding his fingers into you.

"Fuck Austin", is all you can say, your mind going blank with pleasure. You don't know what's gotten into him, but you love this new, dangerous and dominant side he's showing you.

Austin places wet kisses and nibbles all over your breasts and stomach, pumping his fingers into you. You writhe in his arms, hands tugging his hair.

When his mouth descends on your clit you moan loudly. He bites it and then licks the sore spot, curling his fingers inside you. This sends jolts of electricity all over your body and you feel yourself coming, nails digging into his hair.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," he says, voice hoarse from lust. You can feel his hard length pressing against your entrance.

Austin groans in pleasure when he hears you moan his name, the pain from your nails digging into his scalp sending bolts of pleasure straight to his groin.

He gets up, grabs your hips and lifts you, your back against the tiled wall.

You look at his soft, puffy lips and can't help kissing him again. Austin groans and slips his tongue into your mouth, making you dizzy.

When he finally breaks the kiss to look at you, you see the passion burning in his eyes, but there's something else there too - something feral. You realise he hasn't shaken Feyd off completely.

That sparks something in you, emboldens you.

"Have your way with me, my lord na-Baron. I'm all yours", you say, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling on it, your hips bucking into him.

Hearing you say that, something in Austin snaps. He can't think anymore, all he knows is that he wants to be inside you, now.

With a quiet growl he bends down to crash his lips into yours, sliding into you in one swift move.

You can't help the cry that comes out of your mouth when he slams into you. You were already wet, but he's big.

The sharp pain quickly turns into intense pleasure as he starts thrusting into you with abandon. You can feel every vein on his hard length as he's stretching you and filling you in the best way.

You've been together for years and every time he enters you feels like the first time. It's like your bodies are pieces of the same puzzle. The feel of him inside you is divine.

Austin doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size, he couldn't even if he wanted to. He's possessed by the desire to be inside you, to own you. He picks up his pace, slamming into you, his teeth leaving red marks all over your neck and shoulders. His left hand is moulded to your thigh, his right squeezing your breast.

You've never seen him like this, so forceful and primal, and you realise you love it. As the pain shoots through the pleasure you find yourself coming, trying not to scream. You mould your lips to Austin's to stifle your moans and that just spurs him on. He continues to slam into you, balls-deep, throughout your climax.

After a while, Austin comes to his senses and realises he's too rough, he's hurting you. Just as he slows down his pace, releasing you from his grip, he hears you say:

"No, don't hold back. I want you to lose control. Ravage me."

He looks into your eyes, making sure he didn't just imagine that, and sees only carnal desire and love there. He can't believe you're his.

"Fuck, I love you," he whispers.

You smile and bite his neck hard. The little control he'd managed to take back shatters. Austin slips out of you so he can turn you around, your back towards him, and slams back into you.

One of his hands travels to your neck and squeezes, the other goes to your nipple.

This angle helps him sink even deeper inside you. The sensation is almost too much and you feel the waves of another orgasm coming. Sex with Austin is always great but this is different. He's lost all control and given in to his desire, and you fucking love it.

Austin feels your walls clenching around him and he knows you're close. The hand around your throat tightens as he moves his other hand from your breast to your clit, running his fingers in agonisingly slow circles, and right before you come he inserts two fingers in.

The feeling of his fingers and his hard length inside you is too much and you trip over the edge, your whole body shaking. You claw at his neck and bury your fingers into his hair as he swallows your moans with a kiss when you both come.

You've never seen this side of him before. He's always so protective of you, so gentle. You realise he's been holding himself back, afraid to lose control and hurt you.

He looks at you apprehensively and you smile at him, tugging him close so you can wrap your hands around his neck and give him a slow, tender kiss.

For a while the only sounds in the shower are the running water and your heavy breathing as you're both coming down from your highs.

Eventually, Austin lets you go and eases out of you with a groan. Your legs are shaking as you lean onto the tile wall while he turns around to adjust the showerhead.

He melts into you, relieved you're okay.

You disengage and proceed with your shower, washing each other's hair and bodies, placing soft kisses here and there.

When you're done, Austin stops the water. He swaddles you in a huge fluffy towel, picks you up and carries you to the bed.

He lies next to you on his side, head propped up, facing you, tiny droplets of water running down his face and torso.

"I'm sorry", he says quietly, giving you a sad puppy look and caressing your face.

"For what? Giving me multiple orgasms?"

"No..." he laughs and then falls silent.

"I hurt you. I don't know what came over me."

"Not what, who. You've still got some of Feyd lurking in the background," you say a soft smile playing on your lips.

"That's not an excuse y/n. I should've stopped...I should've..." he trails off, looking remorseful.

"I don't know if you noticed Butler but I liked it. A lot", you lift his head so he can look at you.

"I'm not made of china you know. Promise me you'll stop holding back on me. This was fucking amazing."

"Yeah it was, wasn't it," he says, finally relaxing, "Okay, but on one condition: you promise to tell me if I cross the line."

"Deal," you say and mould your lips over his.

[multiwreckedmess]

February Filth Fest Day 28

Prompt: Mommy Pairing: Neighbor!Wooyoung x older!reader WC: 4k Summary: To Wooyoung, you were everything. You didn’t even know he existed. Older and audacity turned to maximum, he’s determined to make you never forget.

This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Wooyoung or any Ateez member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. By clicking the “Read More” you agree that you are of age to interact with my works.

TW//CW: TBH THIS IS MOSTLY PROLOGUE. Reader called ‘mommy’ and doesn’t like it at first, wooyoung is desperate, age gap undefined (it’s not suggested that it’s HUGE but it’s there). oral (fem receiving). CLIFFHANGER END

 “You remember Wooyoung right? Youngie?” Your mom tugs you over to a young man, black hair half back in a ponytail, orange shirt just slightly too unbuttoned, kicking back a beer.  “Aw mom! I can see in her eyes she doesn’t!” Wooyoung’s eyes crinkle as he extends his hand to you.  Your eyebrows raise. Mom? Grabbing his hand you shake it tentatively. Strong muscular fingers grip back, fitting your hand fully in his warm palm.  Your mother doesn’t let the silence linger long, mercifully. “Our Wooyoungie has been taking such good care of us while you’ve been off making your own little homestead on the coast!”  “Now you’re speaking far too highly of me. You feed me just as good as well. It’s an exchange of labor for services.” He gloats, swatting lightly at the air in front of himself as if the words praising him still hung there.  “You eat so well it's always a joy to share, besides, it helps me get through the leftovers.” She lightly ribs you, trying to get you to join into the conversation.

 To be honest, you felt guilty. The only child setting out into the world by moving as far away as you could while staying within the continental United States. You’d intended to see your parents more but the realities of limited vacation time and cost of travel hit quickly. The pandemic years certainly hadn’t helped. If anything they prevented you from establishing a normal visiting schedule and left you floundering to fit them in between projects and personal days. You’d finally been able to decide on the yearly block party, held every summer, to make your grand return. Calling up old friends and arranging it this way ensured you’d see most if not all the folks on your obligations list.  However, seeing your mom smiling so fondly at this kid, almost more proud of him than she seemed of you, made your stomach turn. The beast of jealousy churning a pot inside of you. You barely track the rest of their pleasantries, simply watching their borderline flirtatious body language as you nurse your beer.

 “I’ll leave you two to catch up! I swear Wooyoungie has told me so many cute stories of you, I can’t believe you don’t remember him.” Elbowing your arm gently your mom hisses, “play nice, he’s a gem!” Wooyoung tilts his chin up and out, craning to receive a kiss on the cheek from her as you stare.  “So, you and my parents are close,” your lips curl, tiptoeing slowly into the shallow end of the conversation.  “Oh yeah! Well, I started shoveling their walk in the winters and salting the sidewalk which they seemed to really appreciate. So, Mom invited me to dinner after one particularly bad snowfall and I’ve been keeping them company when I can ever since.”  “Mhm,” you hum shortly, suspicious of him. “Well you haven’t murdered them yet.”  Wooyoung cackles, “do I really look like a killer?”  “Isn’t that what all the witnesses in crime series say? That the murderer didn’t seem like the kind of person to do it.”  His eyes flit down from your head to your toes. Wooyoung had always been a cute kid. Charming, sweet, a little spicy, but his good nature charmed the neighborhood. Or at least the adults of the neighborhood. He always got along better with adults. The kids of the neighborhood were less enchanted. They called him a suck up, kiss ass, brat, annoying, and worse all in the name of envy. Envy for how the adults loved him and took care of him. So many neighborhood nights out ended in tears for him, maybe it was good you didn’t recall those days. He shook his head with a smile. “Still I’m a little upset you don’t remember me.”

***********

 “Hey, some of the ‘big kids’ are heading up to the local bar!” A girl named Gina tugs at your sleeve. The street lights flickering on and only the young and unaccompanied left at the party it was a natural progression of the night. A quick four block walk from your home you shrugged, it wasn’t like you held any particular affection for anyone in particular but it also wasn’t an arduous trek. Besides, this is what you came home for, right? Socialize with the ones who knew you before you knew yourself.

 That's how you ended up drinking a gin and tonic at the back of the bar, letting the wash of noise and alcohol blur your nerves. You’d selected gin and tonic out of habit more than anything, the tap list overwhelming and no cocktail menu to be found. A safe bet, difficult to fuck up too badly.  Laughing congenially along to the stories retold by friends, you feel lost in the crowd. Stories that went like “oh remember when Ricky did this” or “Cassy has a funny story about when Hunter lost his tooth” which you didn't remember, why would you? Not to say you shared no memories, just that most of them were the aftermath rather than the incident. Always too buried in your books to notice the hijinx happening. Now burying your nose in your glass you nod along to save face. Yes, you were there but somehow also not.

 “So you remember all of this but not me?” Wooyoung slides along your side. Some form of brownish liquor in his hand.  “No, it’s called being politely interested.”  “Ahhh,” he grins and sips his drink. “I’ll note that, the politely bit. I’m already interested so I think I’m good there...”  You roll your eyes, “interested in my mom.”  “Your mother is a beautiful lady. And smart. And kind. Why shouldn’t I be interested?” He knows he’s being cheeky but part of it is payback for your memory lapse.  “Don’t you love your mommy?”  The word mommy hits you like a truck. Rolling up your spine and crashing through your skull with the force of a brick to the back of the head. “Wooyoung? Oh my god. Wooyoung.” You mutter, shocked, dismayed. It’s him. It’s definitely him alright. Wooyoung grins like a jackal in front of you, gnawing on the small plastic swizzler straw in his drink. “I know you.”  “Do you?”

 Thirteen. That’s how old you were when you went to your last neighborhood block party. It was the last summer you spent preoccupied with fictional boys instead of real ones. There was already a change in the air, all the neighborhood kids seemed just so much younger than despite the difference being only a couple of years. Watching them rough house and play from afar you’d been set out with ‘eldest’ duties so that the parents could absolve themselves of direct supervisory responsibilities. Which was fine to you, you’d be tipped generously at the end of the night by the parents without needing to do too much.  Suddenly two small arms encircled your legs, an equally small face buried in your pant leg, absolutely wailing for mommy. Tapping on the black mop of hair, red eyes and a runny nose looked back up at you and upon seeing your face cried harder. Prying your legs from his arms you lean down to meet his eye level, “can we go find her? Your mom?”  He sniffs and nods, lower lip quivering. “Jung Wooyoung,” his small voice tremors.  Taking his small fist in your hand, you lead him farther into the party. It doesn’t take long to find her, gathered in a small circle of moms, laughing jovially. Her smile fades as she sees you toting her son, face red and puffy.  “Should he be in trouble or someone else be in trouble?” She’s very brief in her assessment, half exasperated half sympathetic.  “I’m sorry I’m not sure Mrs. Jung. He just ran up to me like this asking for you.”  Squatting next to her son you notice, she has the exact same wash of jeans as you. “Jung Wooyoung, can you tell me what happened?”  The boy glances up at you, eyes wide, sitting on the pavement with a hard plop.  “Jung. Woo. Young. Your mom is asking a question.”  He notices you notice him staring and he hides his eyes.  “I’m so sorry miss, I can take care of him from here. He really likes pretty girls but gets so shy around them. You can go!” Mrs. Jung looks apologetically at you, scooping Wooyoung up onto her hip.  Smiling you look him in the eye and wave, watching as he smiles back shyly and buries his face.

 “You were such a cute kid!” You coo.  “Is that really all you remember about me? Cute little kid? Damn.” This was not exactly the reaction he was looking for. Wooyoung wanted the gasp and the dramatic reveal, of course, but being called cute was not the highest adjective on his list. And only one fleeting memory of his mother calling you a pretty girl.  His mother was incorrect though, you weren’t just a pretty girl to him, you were an angel. He was immediately obsessed, watching you silently with flutters in his stomach listening as the adults talked about your achievements. Not only kind and beautiful but smart and self sufficient and bold and fierce. He remembered one of your summers back from college, reading on the front lawn in a bikini, waiting for the sun to slowly turn you a pleasant golden shade. Only briefly passing by on his bike the image seared itself into his mind, fueling his late nights as he flipped through your instagram.  “I really thought the world of you,” he muses.  “And what about now?” You ask with a laugh and a grimace. Wooyoung looks you up and down. “I could ask the same to you, you said I was a cute kid. What about now?”  “Oh come on, you have to know this is a touchy subject for me…you can’t just say that you thought the world of a person in the past tense like that. What, I must be some washed up hag, desperate in her neighborhood bar.”  Wooyoung hums, smirking, “well now i don’t agree with the hag part but I like the desperate, desperate i can work with.” He gently takes your drink and swills the dregs. “Another of the same?”  “I want whatever you got. Order me that.”  His eyebrows shoot up, “oh come on. You’re the older one, you should treat me.” He smiles sweetly and bats his lashes. “I’ll come with you so you know what to order next time.”  You roll your eyes. He’s really too cute for his own good. Your heart sinks a little. He’s really too cute to be hanging around you like he is. But you take his glass with yours and slide them across the wood top bar.  “Two whiskeys, on the rocks!” Wooyoung flashes his winning smile, “on her tab please.” He finishes with a head tilt in your direction and a wink. “You’re such a baby.”  “Only for you mommy.” He bunts the top of his head into your arm as you blanch at the sudden endearment.

 You hate it on instinct. You’re not his mommy, yes you’re older but you're not his mommy. You’re not anyone’s mommy. You don’t want to mother anyone for any reason. You wanted that care and attention. Still, you don’t correct him and let him continue to press his side to yours. The pressure of contact from another person is nice, even momentarily.

 “So,” Wooyoung sips gingerly at his drink, “tell me what you think of me now. I can’t settle for being a formerly cute baby. I won’t.” He pouts, lilting his head.  With a heavy sigh you look him up and down, simple fitted black t-shirt, tight black pants, and moto-boots. “If I were closer to your age-”  “EH!” He shushes you abruptly, finger to your lips. “It’s not about you. Tell me about me.”  “Fine. You want to hear you’re attractive? You’re attractive,” you give him an exasperated glance. The heat of the alcohol warms the sides of your face, making you feel giggly. The whiskey goes down shockingly easily, loosening your inhibitions. “What about me? I’m the one in distress.”  Wooyoung steadies you, bringing awareness to your swaying, letting you lean back against the wall slowly with the support of his hand. “I think you’re the first woman I ever worshipped and now I want to make good on that.”  “Wooyoung, are you coming onto me?” You as incredulously, eyebrows almost launching themselves from your face with the speed they raise at.  “I’d very much like to if you’d let me.”  “You’d like to what exactly?”  “Cum on you. Or in you. Whichever you’ll let me.”  His forwardness leaves you gagging on unspoken words. You think for a second you ought to slap him as you see red around his smug smile. “Wooyoung do you hear yourself?”  Wooyoung slides his hand up, leaning into you on his elbow. He smells like earth and spice and alcohol. “I think you’d like it too. Not to brag but, I think I’m better than spending the rest of the night in your old twin bed with your decade old back massager.”  Stunned by his too all too accurate prediction of your plans your brain barely processes the way you lean into his light kiss on the cheek. Your face feels warm, he is warm. And soft, so soft. His brashness has you melting a little bit, there is no halfway here. No room for interpretation. He wants you, and it makes your stomach flutter and legs turn to jelly.  “So, wanna get out of here?” Wooyoung says with a small smirk, eyes downcast sheepishly. “If we get to my place and you wanna back out I’ll happily sleep on the couch with the cat. I just don’t want either of us to be alone tonight.”  Tender heartstrings plucked expertly by a master songsmith, you sigh. Foolish. Stupid. Irresponsible. What would your parents think when you didn’t come home? Your head shakes as you type out a short text to your mother, a sentence excuse about staying the night with Gina. Or was it Gia? The keyboard swims under your thumb. The rest of you melts and lets the younger man wrap his arm around your waist to guide you safely to a cab. Again you marvel at how warm he is, how his fingers splay casually in the divot of your waist. Cheeks burning you duck your head out of the bar, as though it would be shameful to be seen with him.

 Wooyoung kisses with the desperation of a starved man, drinking in as much of you as he possibly can before coming up for air. The electric lock on the door has barely even finished latching when his arms snake around your waist, lips attaching to the nape of your neck.  “You smell so good,” his face is smashed into your shoulder, the both of you stumble and struggle to remove shoes as he further tangles himself in you. The second you're free of them he’s turning you, pressing your back into the wall as his leg slots easily between your thighs. Winding your hips together you teeter on your tip toe as he kisses you, teeth tugging at your bottom lip lightly.  “Ooh mommy, I’m going to make you remember me-” he moans into your open mouth.  A burst of air comes through your nose as you suppress part of an awkward laugh, “Mommy?”  “Yeah, your baby’s gonna take good care of you.” His mouth stretches into a grin against your cheek, nose bumping against you until your head falls to the side, granting access to your throat. “Right mommy? I’m taking good care of you right?”  Teeth nibbling a searing trail to your shoulder, you can’t help but moan. You don’t hate it. Your mind hates it but your body loves it. His insistent desperation for approval from you is almost as intoxicating as the drinks you’d shared. “This mommy shit is weird Wooyoungie.”  Wooyoung sucks a bruising spot into your collarbone, skin immediately flushing, meant to leave a mark. Shivering you moan again, letting your head fall to your opposite shoulder, grinding your hips against him. “That’s not a nice thing to say mommy,” his grip on your ass tightens. His hands pull you down to him, pressure in your gut building.  “Fuck! Oh baby-” the phrase slides from your lips before you can pause and overthink what this might say about you.  “Yeah, is your baby making you feel good?” He tenderly kisses over the growing bruise. “Wanna be mommy now?”  “Fuck-Wooyoungie-you’re fucking incorrigible,” you groan. Between the alcohol and the pounding in your gut, you really don’t mind it. Silencing the small critic and setting that voice in time out, you slide to his bedroom, stripping bear besides your undergarments.

 “Damn mommy, you’re a walking wet dream,” Wooyoung looks at you from under his bangs, making a home for himself at your feet, waiting for the word to dive in. Eyes traveling up your legs to the crevice between them, he can barely wait longer. He’s been waiting since puberty. The hunger to prove himself to make you his, growing all the more as your life proceeded without him.  His gaze heats you from your core, anticipatory buzz gripping your gut. “Yeah baby?” You practically whisper, throat taut.  Slowly but surely his hands travel the tops of your legs, large and warm on your skin. Everything is burning and tingling and on a knife's edge as they stop at your hips, resting his full weight on you. His face comes barely a foot from yours. “Can you tell me how much you want this?” He smiles, Cheshire-like.  “I’m fucking aching baby,” you plead maybe just a bit too desperately. “Can you help mommy out?”  You can barely finish the sentence before his plush lips are on yours with a bruising amount of force. Eagerly his hands slide between your thighs, tracing the edges of your panties. “Mommy,” he gasps into your open mouth, “are you already this wet?” He teases a thumb over the growing damp spot.  Nodding, your legs slide easily for him. “Yeah baby, all for you.”  Pressing against your clit more earnestly he rubs in small circles. Your head goes back into the pillows immediately, pressure deliciously building in your core. The skin of his shoulders is cool as he nudges your thighs even wider, his lips replacing his hands. A shock of electricity runs up your spine as you realize he’s pulling your hips down against his face, bridge of his nose nudging you through your panties.  “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this,” Wooyoung mutters barely loud enough for you to make out. Fingers slipping between your panties and your skin he can barely breathe as he tugs the fabric over your hips. Caught between a fixated stare and a shyly glancing away he pulls down even more, practically cumming in his own underwear as your cunt is finally revealed. “Fuck you’re beautiful.”  “That’s not even the pretty part of me,” you feel the heat of embarrassment creep up the side of your neck.  Wooyoung looks up at you from between your knees, frowning incredulously. “Every part of my mommy is pretty, especially her cute little cunt.” He says before unceremoniously burying his face in your folds. Licking and slurping like a starved man, you don’t even register the auditory assault, squealing so loudly yourself your head rushes.  “Wooyoung! Oh shit! Oh FUCK!” You scream and fist the sheets, fighting your urge to snap your legs around his head. The pleasure twists in your gut as his tongue flicks against your swollen clit, a finger teasing your hole.  “Grab my hair-” Wooyoung gasps, “pull my hair. I’m not fragile.”  It doesn’t take any more convincing as you tug at his black locks. His lips buzz with moans of approval as you ride his face. His finger crooks inside of you, just enough to press against the top of your walls, right into the squishy spot that blurs your vision and has you seeing stars.  “I’m gonna cum, oh fuck baby, I’m gonna-”  His face presses more insistently against you, practically drowning himself in your sex. If he was going to die young he’d want to die like this, nestled in your heat. “Do it.”  Coating his chin in release your eyes flutter closed. Clamping down around the slight resistance his finger gives. He’s right. Much better than your vibrator. You release him from your grasp as he comes up for air, both of your eyes are hazy with lust as you look at each other.

 “Can I suck your tits?”  Wooyoung’s blunt tone does nothing to disturb your post orgasmic cloud.  “C’mere baby boy,” you say as you slide your bra straps off your shoulders, unclasping the band without a second thought.  Wooyoungs eyes bulge as you so easily and carelessly reveal your breasts, half reclined back in his bed, like he’d imagined all those years ago. It’s nothing to you but everything to him. You see them every day and he’d only seen them in his fantasies. He swipes lazily at the arousal still clinging to his lips and chin, transfixed by your tits. Almost reverently he reaches for them both, fingers fanning out over the pair and squishing into them. “Oh mommy,” he says, leaning down to kiss the top of one, “they’re perfect.”  “Wooyoungie-” you’re nearly dying of embarrassment, heat flashing through your body as he interrupts you.  “They’re just like I imagined.”  “Shut up and suck before I regret this,” you laugh, masking your tension beneath brusque humor. Wooyoung doesn’t seem to mind. In fact his eyes practically sparkle as you demand he follow through on his request. Lips encircling your nipple he kisses tenderly at first, hand resting on the opposite breast to make sure it was also attended to.  Soft skin in his palm and on his lips, Wooyoung hips move autonomously, rutting against whatever warmth his cock can find. His tongue flicks over your hardened nipple, fingers pinching the other lightly and listening for your moans of approval. Again, he flicks harder, pinches harder, and feels you respond louder and harder as he’d hoped. He keeps escalating until it feels like his heart is going to burst from excitement, leaning into you as he nips at your flesh.  Yelping you swat at him playfully, “don’t be a brat!”  “Sorry mommy, i just love you so much,” he smiles and nips again.  Truthfully the pain feels good, stinging only for a moment before the buzz of endorphins rushes through your spine. “S’okay baby,” you purr and coax him between your thighs, tugging at his underwear. “You’ve made a real mess of these.”  “All for you,” he’s breathless as he tosses the ruined pair casually across the room. Leaning close to you again, he kisses you as he rummages under the pillows. You can feel him smile against your mouth as he finds his prize.  Pulling away he brandishes a gold foil packet proudly. “A boyscout is always prepared.”  “Goddamn, is this just a normal thing for you?” Your heart drops just a little bit disappointed that you might not be special to him. He’s just so smooth, every action carefully planned.  “No,” he tears the foil packet with his teeth before leaning in to kiss your cheek. “I heard you were going to be in town and I wasn’t going to lose you again.”  “You sound obsessed,” you giggle, hands tracing the veins of his lower abdomen as you watch him roll the latex over his length.  “Yeah and I’m going to make you just as obsessed about me.”

Sorry, i just don’t know that i wanted to write more of this. I just do NAWT know how to write a mommy kink, it’s not something i’m particularly into which usually doesn’t really stop me when writing but IDK. I liked the beginning but then the mommy stuff felt shoehorned in.

[baby-yongbok]

˳·˖✶ ⋆Midnights: Pt.1˳·˖✶ ⋆

Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Non idol

✨Masterlist ✨

Warnings: Mentions of the pandemic (COVID-19)

Notes: Third Person POV + Okay, so, When I started writing this I intended for it to be a sweet drabble but then I just kept typing and typing and TYPING... I think that this has potential to be a series. There will definitely be a part 2 but I'm not sure if it should just be two parts or more. Let me know what you think please? This was also written pretty fast so I'm sorry if the quality isn't the best, but then again I say that about everything I write. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy!

Word Count: 1366

Summary: The two of you are best friends, You know each other like the back of your hand, so why does this new version of Hyunjin give you a feeling you've never experienced before? His smile is all the same but somethings changed... What could it be?

You and Hyunjin have been best friends since you learned how to walk. You’ve done everything together for as long as you can remember and the fact that the two of you are next door neighbors made it even easier to spend an insane amount of time together. Around the time that you turned sixteen and he turned seventeen the two of you decided that spending eight hours of your day together wasn’t enough so naturally he started sneaking into your window late at night to hang out with you. The two of you would play games, watch movies, and anything else that your heart desired all while trying to stay as quiet as possible. Even though your entire family loved Hyunjin, you knew that having a boy in your room at 1:45am would not go over well with your parents. He’d sneak in for any reason and at any time. He got into a fight with his parents? He’ll be at your window at two in the morning. You’re feeling sick? He’ll be at your window with snacks and anything else he grabbed at the store to make you smile. 

Unfortunately, your late night hang outs came to an end when the two of you went off to college. Well, when he went off to college. Hyunjin made the decision to stay on campus but you weren’t sure that you were ready for the responsibility of basically living alone. Hyunjin begged you to stay on campus, promising that he’d take care of you and keep you on track but you just weren’t sure. Fast forward a month after that conversation when the two of you found out that you both got accepted… to different colleges. It took a lot for the two of you to say goodbye but you knew Hyunjin would only be a phone call away. 

Months went by and your nights were silent. There was no dark haired boy climbing up the tree next to your balcony and knocking on your window anymore. No more late night movies or whispering the lyrics to karaoke at three in the morning. The two of you kept in contact with video calls and texts but you both ended up being way more involved in college activities than you thought you would be thus leaving very little room for meeting up or even texting back some days. As your lives got busier the two of you slowly drifted apart, that was until the pandemic hit. Suddenly your extremely active world was quiet again, all of your classes were now either canceled or strictly online. Hyunjin had no choice but to move back home since his dormitory was closing down to enforce social distancing. It all felt like a mess but there was a silver lining to it all, Hyunjin was coming back home and the two of you would finally see each other after nearly five months of being apart, now all you had to do was wait.

 It was a regular Thursday evening, you sat on your front porch listening to music and laying on your bench swing with your dog, Miffy. The smooth voice of the artist you were listening to was suddenly drowned out by Miffy barking and running off of the porch. You sat up, startled by the sudden noise and immediately started searching for the cause of the commotion. That’s when your eyes landed on him, his hair was a bright red which stuck out from his black muscle tee and black sweats. You went over to your front steps and watched him for some time as he pulled his suitcase out of the trunk of his fathers car. ‘There’s no way that that’s Hyunjin right?’ Your thoughts were racing as you tried to remember what he looked like five months ago but your memory sadly failed you. Just as your eyes fix on the muscle of his toned arm he turns towards your house. His gaze is cast upwards towards your balcony, he’s clearly trying to see if you’re home. Your heart skips a beat as it all sinks in, that is Hyunjin. Just as you’re about to scream his name to get his attention Miffy reaches him and jumps up on him earning a smile and a happy laugh to fall from his lips. 

“Miffy! How are ya girl?” He wildly pets the dog like he hasn’t seen her in years but in his defense it’s felt like forever since he’s seen you and your family. Finally, he puts two and two together and looks up towards your front porch where you stood with your dress blowing in the autumn wind and a bright smile on your face. “Y/n!”

Hyunjin runs over to you immediately with Miffy following close behind. You rush down your front stairs with your arms out in front of you ready to hug your best friend. His arms snake around your waist quickly like you’d disappear if he were a second slower, yours find a home around his neck and he spins you around earning a giggle from you. “Oh my gosh, I’ve missed you, angel”

“I’ve missed you more.” He sets you down and pulls you closer to his body. His chin rests on the top of your head and your cheek rests comfortably on his chest. You don’t know what it is, call it your best friend spidey senses but he feels different than he did five months ago…what’s changed? You both pull back and look at each other, smiling like your lives depend on it. You lift your hand and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “You’re…red” 

He laughs at your comment and looks away from you for a second. “Do you mean my hair or my face?”

“Your hair… well actually, both.” You both fall into a fit of laughter before stopping and staring at each other again.

“I dyed it a month ago, I thought I sent you a picture.” Shaking your head Hyunjin’s smile slowly turns into a frown. “I’m sorry I haven’t kept up with talking to you… It was just so busy on campus and I joined way too many clubs and -” 

You bring your hand up to stop him with a smile still pulling at your lips. “It’s fine, I sucked at communicating too, what’s important is that you’re here now.”

The guilt he felt for not contacting you melted into a reassured smile. “There’s so much I want to tell you, angel, but I think I have to go.” 

He looked over to his house where his father was waiting by the car with his arms crossed. You furrowed your eyebrows with worried eyes and Hyunjin bit his lip slightly. - Fuck why was that hot? - He leans down to your ear and whispers.

“My parents aren’t too thrilled about the red hair, I think I’m in trouble.” You giggle and he does the same. “I figured that once I turned nineteen that I had a bit more freedom but that clearly isn’t the case.” 

He rolled his eyes and you sighed. “You know how your mom is, I say that you did this on purpose.” He sticks his tongue into his cheek slightly and smiles.

“You’re not wrong… but listen, I don’t want to make my case any worse so I’ll see you later?” You glance down at his wrist knowing for sure that he has a watch on him. 

“Hyun, it’s already seven o’clock. You’re gonna get scolded for about an hour and everything is closed due to the pandemic so we can’t go anywhere.” Just as Hyunjin was going to reply, his father called him to come home. With a sigh he starts walking backwards away from you.

“Leave your window open, yeah?” With a wink he turns and runs off towards his house. He gives you one last glance and smiles before he disappears through his front door leaving you in your walk way. For some reason you felt nervous about Hyunjin coming to your house tonight. Sure it would be just like old times but something has changed… What in the world was causing this feeling?

[atinystraynstay]

Life Goes On - Park Jimin

Synopsis: It was finally happening. Jimin would be leaving for the military in a few weeks. The boys have worked hard to make the enlistment process seamless for themselves and the fans, but that doesn't mean you are ready.

Pairing: idol! Park Jimin x reader Genre: Flufffffff Word Count: 2.1k Note: BTS was the first k-pop group I got into, all thanks to a college friend who was obsessed at the time. I still remember her sending me Spring Day as a recommend and listening to it on repeat all winter break. They were a huge source of happiness, especially during the pandemic. Watching each member go has been tough, but I am excited for the day that OT7 is back in 2025. 💜

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

It was a calm Friday night. Probably the last Friday night we would get like this. The world outside had a particular stillness to it, almost as if nobody else existed besides us.

The only source of light in the living room came from the fairy lights strung around the apartment. I had suggested to Jimin that we decorate our shared space early seeing as he would soon be joining his six friends, his six brothers in military service. We weren't sure how much more time we would have together, so we wanted to create joyful holiday memories before the rush of preparing for enlistment fully began. I wanted to give Jimin a chance to enjoy the holiday season with friends and family before the goodbyes start.

We were laying on our couch. Our bodies were positioned so Jimin's back rested against the arm of the couch, my body resting against his back and sitting in between his legs. His right hand rested gently on my hip, running up and down lazily. His touch left me feeling hypnotized like I was putty in his hands. A dark green blanket was draped over our bodies, keeping us warm. Some holiday movie was playing in the background, but I was not even paying attention. Hence the popcorn bowl was only half empty. I was trying my best to savor the feeling of being this close to Jimin, what it was like to feel his body warmth against mine, to feel his presence next to me.

A soft ding brought me back to reality. I glanced over to my right, away from the TV, when I saw Jimin raise his cellphone with his left hand. I instantly recognized the app responsible for the notification. Weverse.

"It's posted," Jimin whispered. I could sense his body trying to sit up a bit straighter. I followed suit, allowing him to adjust his posture before gently leaning against him again. He had moved his phone so it was in front of the both of us. His phone was already unlocked due to his camera recognizing his face. The notification push is already open for the two of us to read.

I could feel my heart sink a bit. I knew this was coming. We already talked about it. Why was I so nervous?

Hello. This is BIGHIT MUSIC.

We would like to inform our fans that RM, Jimin, V, and Jung Kook have initiated the military enlistment process.

All of us have been aware of the plan for a while. There have been numerous, lengthy conversations since 2020 about what would happen, what life would be like, what the boys wanted for themselves before and after enlistment, and everything in between. The protocol all the boys would follow made sense. Jin was going to go first, seeing as he was the oldest and had the shortest amount of time. J-Hope decided that he would go second, just wanting to get it over with to get back on stage sooner. Yoongi would go third, seeing as his military service would be the longest period as a civil servant. He wanted to stay on track with rejoining the group in 2025. The other four wanted to go in together, to be able to support each other and say goodbye rather than leaving one person left behind. Three years ago, the plan seemed like it was so far away. But the plan was now in action and the rest of the world knew it.

The boys have been able to pursue projects they had only dreamed of. They had gotten the chance of a lifetime to take control and make decisions for each of themselves. And I was beyond proud of them all, especially Jimin. It was just now happening too quickly for my liking. I felt like I was losing time now.

What was my plan? What was I going to do? 18 months without Jimin, without my source of happiness and laughter in this sometimes dark world. Everyone seemed to know what they were meant to do, but what about me? "Babe? Y/n?"

I blinked a couple of times after registering that Jimin was calling out to me. I looked down to see the phone had been removed from in front of me, now sitting next to the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. I felt a hand cradle my cheek, turning it gently to the side until I met those deep brown eyes. I tried offering a light smile but knew that it was all an act. My glossy eyes a dead giveaway.

"Angel, what's going on in your mind? Talk to me." "I don't want you to go. Like I know you have to. We've talked about it basically over the last three years, but that doesn't mean I want you to go."

Jimin frowned. I felt him gently push on my body, indicating he wanted me to shift. My frown deepened as I turned to sit forward, my legs hitting the wooden floor. Shivers shot up my spine from the contact with the cold floor. Jimin remained sitting in the same position, his body against the corner and arm of the couch. However, this time, his hands were extended towards me. I shifted my body slightly, to face him, but also slipped my hands into his. His warm touch. That brought a smile at my gesture. He slipped his fingers in between mine before giving my hand three tiny squeezes, our little way of saying 'I love you' without having to verbally say it. It worked in situations where we were out in public, unable to hear each other, or for times like this when speaking might be too difficult.

"I don't want to go either, baby. I really don't. The thought of leaving you for a short while pains me, but it's something that has to be done."

I nodded my head, listening to his words. I didn't even realize at this point that a few tears had slipped down my cheeks.

"18 months just seems like such a long time. So much can happen in a year and a half." "And I look forward to hearing about every single moment, every second when I see you again. Or if it is something you absolutely cannot wait to tell me, you know you can write me a letter. I always loved your handwriting."

His thumb gently caressed the back of my hand. My eyes were trained down at our interlocked hands. I watched the way his thumb gently moved across my knuckles. Three tiny squeezes.

"And you won't be completely alone, you know."

I picked my head up, turning it slightly. What was he talking about? His eyes widened in return to my expression. "You didn't think I came up with a plan for us?"

"We never talked about it, Jimin. We always talked about what you and the boys needed and wanted before and after enlistment. That was the sole focus."

"But you're my focus," he whispered. He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to my cheek, a lingering kiss. My head naturally tilted towards his lips, one more tear falling as I just soaked in the moment. Who knows how many more kisses I would be able to receive from Jimin. Now that the world knew of his intention to enlist, we were waiting anxiously for the report-for-duty date. "Stay right there."

Jimin slowly leaned away from me. He then slowly detached himself before he got up and started walking in the direction of the Christmas tree. In a few weeks, we had planned to throw a Christmas party not just for us, but for RM, V, and Jungkook to celebrate one last holiday season before leaving us for a little bit. The tree would soon be lined up with gifts for each of the boys and from them. Jimin glanced back towards me, winking which caused me to giggle a bit. He soon tucked himself between the wall and the tree to retrieve something from the back. What was he up to?

I wiped my tears, not wanting to bring any more somber energy into our evening. While yes I was sad about having to depart from my beloved for a bit, tonight and the days to come were about making Jimin feel comfortable. It was tearing him apart inside at the possibility of missing important family time.

Soon, Jimin reemerged with a white bag that had red ribbons holding it together. He held the gift bag in one hand before coming back to sit right beside me. His free hand wrapped around my shoulders, placing the gift bag right in my lap. "No such thing as an early present. Merry Christmas, my love," he whispered. His lips pressed into the side of my head.

My eyes widened in surprised as I took the gift bag into both of my hands. Using my left hand to stabilize it, my right hand began to take out the tissue paper. It was white, matching the exterior of the bag, but had gold mixed into it. The tissue paper was discarded onto the floor by our feet. Inside was a brown book with black pages. Black pages? How was I supposed to read that?

Very carefully, I took the book out of the bag. I set the bag beside me to place the book in my lap. On the front was a brown cover with a star cutout. I assume you can place a photo that you like in the front. The book was closed due to black straps of leather that were tied into a bow. I slowly undid the bow, freeing the pages of the book to be flipped. The book wasn't a traditional book. The pages opened like an accordion.

I placed the cover by the one end of the coffee table, seeing it stretch all the way to the other end. "Jimin, what is this?" I asked softly. The pages were currently blank.

I heard that heavenly laughter behind me. Soon, arms were wrapped around my stomach and pulled me back in. My hands gently rested on top of his arms, his chin resting on my shoulder. "It's a photo album. It's not just for you, it's for us. You can fill it with whatever you want as a way to keep me in the loop on all the adventures you'll have while I'm away. I want to be present in your life as much as possible. I know I won't get much time to be here physically, but I figured this would be the next best thing. You can take photos of yourself, what you see, put in flowers that you want pressed - whatever you want to show me when I get back. And then, when I come home, we'll sit right here on the couch and look through it all." His lips pressed against my shoulder as I stared at the photo album.

"And then, of course, my parents will always welcome you in with open arms. I'm convinced they get more excited about having you visit than they do with me," he laughed. "So if you feel the urge to be around family, my family is ready to step up to the plate. Or even if you want them to come visit you, they are more than happy to do so."

"It's just going to be so weird without any of you guys around here," I sighed. "Well, don't worry. Jin is going to be back soon, so you won't be too lonely for long. I know he'll make sure you are fed, you are happy, and you won't have a moment of silence again until I arrive home."

Staying in Jimin's arms, I smiled brightly. "You really have thought of everything, huh?"

Jimin nodded proudly. His arms gave me a gentle squeeze before reconnecting his lips to my cheek. "I tried to! I know life is going to go on while I'm away. And I want you to be able to live it all. You can do that for me, right?"

This time, I nodded my head before turning my head to press my forehead gently against his. "Of course. I'll take all the photos in the world and be waiting for you to come home," I whispered to him. He seemed satisfied with my response as he soon pressed his lips gently against mine. I melted into his warm embrace.

I have a plan now.

[jmdbjk]

Oh, Jimin...

These are my personal impressions, thoughts, interpretations and opinions on Jimin’s solo FACE album. Some of the things I say here are built on things I know from past original content, interviews and what Jimin has shared personally. Some of it is just me reveling in my first experience with Jimin’s long awaited album. 

It is such a serious album. Jimin said this is the story of what he was feeling, chronologically, 2020-2022, during the pandemic era. At the beginning of 2020, BTS was rising higher than any Korean artist ever had before and then all of a sudden the momentum came to a halt, and there was nothing. Having the life you’ve known suddenly jerked away from you is traumatizing. 

Once the king of social media, Jimin almost ceased by the end of 2020 and never went back. “Oh, he just outgrew it.” No, the man was struggling with his issues and not only did he not need to see the extra crap spewed all over social media but he had nothing left to give, nothing left inside. 

I noticed how Jimin looked physically back in 2020. He was downright frail y’all. The man was trying to give us what we wanted at the expense of his mental and physical health. That breakdown he had during the ending ments in Memories 2020 was too much. They were all stressed out, but Jimin... those that said he was being over dramatic... the man was struggling with his mental health.

I wrote this last June, 2022 but never posted it: 

After Memories 2020 dropped, we’ve heard Jimin say he struggled after everything got canceled. Days upon days that turned into months upon months and more than two years passed before they finally returned to in-person performances. He stated that during isolation and lockdowns he wondered what was the purpose of his life, or that he had lost his purpose.

Jimin’s struggles were most likely much more severe than he let on and he 100% kept it to himself because he didn’t want us to worry about him. That sounded like solo delusional projection but think about Jimin and how he’s behaved in the past...always telling us not to worry. Always saying things to reassure us that he’s happy, he eats well, don’t worry.

There was no working, no performing, their lives and his life changed drastically overnight just like all of ours did. Would we ever get back to normal? What will happen in the future? When will all of this end? 

Face-Off

The album opens with a carnival calliope, it was a little jarring and unexpected. The images it conjured in my brain as the notes played were of a worn out circus winding down. It made me think of the big wild circus that WAS his life, and it just wound down and keeled over. 

Knowing the premise of the album, I think the title, Face-Off, implies Jimin is looking at himself. Speaking to himself. The lyrics could also imply he is speaking to someone else, like people he once trusted. But I don’t think so. 

He was having a confrontation with himself. Reasoning and bargaining with himself.

Maybe he once trusted himself but in this time and place in which he finds himself, he questions what is he doing? and second guessing himself. Day in and day out, the days are all the same nothingness. Hiding his feelings, faking it, pretending it was all ok. It’s all cool. It’ll be all right. He has said many times he looks back at that time and thinks he could have done more for the fans. Being hard on himself. His own worst critic. 

And then this enters the picture: using alcohol to self-medicate. Getting drunk. Numbing the pain. Forgetting. Drink all night. Oh, Jimin...

We know he has a very high alcohol tolerance. He once mentioned that he used to drink a lot. When he declined the champagne during the live after the Busan concert, we all made jokes about it and moved on. Oh, Jimin. 

Face-Off feels like it could have been a purging song when he wrote it. A little primal, you know... just scream, get it out. Painful but cathartic. 

This is the lyric that was scary: “tonight is a beautiful night, I think I’m close (or I think I have it all/I think I’ve found myself)” were chilling to me because they did not come across as optimistic, they came across as being at the end of one’s rope after becoming a shell of a person. He follows that line with “tonight I don’t want to be sober.” Oh, Jimin. 

His vocals open very low and moody then transition to a plaintive cry, punctuated with anger. 

Pour it down, pour it out... the anger, the emotions, the words, just pour it out. 

Interlude: Dive

Like the calliope that sadly wound down, Dive opens with the melody slowly winding back up to speed. Another day starting. Someone knocks, voices, the ambience of a normal day, breathing, running footsteps. The crowd cheering and Jimin’s voice during his ending ments at the Busan concert, more sounds of people in his life. We hear Jimin’s footsteps trudging, it sounds like we hear him climbing steps, entering his house, closing the door, and first thing he does when he is alone in the quiet is pour a drink and drinking deeply. I am concerned. 

Maybe it is supposed to represent the closing of Chapter 1, about a day in the past that was once a “normal” day, since it included the last things he said during that concert.

The music track is dreamlike, repetitive. Living in a dream. Every day. Same thing. Go home. Drink. Do it again. Dive means go deep. In deep. He’s in deep. 

There is a very subtle line between drinking in order to make it through another day/night versus drinking to relax and wind down. A slippery slope to walk on every single day.

We’ve transitioned from the world changing overnight to living in a daze trying to pretend everything is ok. Coping.

Like Crazy

(I am going to express my thoughts using the English version of the song.)

Jimin has explained the song is influenced by the movie of the same name. 

I have learned that the dialogue from the movie was NOT original to the movie but hired voice actors specifically for the song: “I think we can last forever.” “I’m afraid that everything will disappear.” “Just trust me.” And at the end: “How long again?” “What’s the point?”

He has said the dialogue that was used fit the message of the song. I have not seen the movie. I don’t think the song is a literal interpretation of the movie. I think the song’s basic concept is the emotional struggle trying to maintain a dream. But maintaining a dream is unrealistic no matter what you do to try to make it last. Jimin had to come to terms with that.

Jimin’s vocals begin very light and airy, very dreamy. 

[God, he’s fine.]

The vibe of the song is sort of retro, very much evokes the artist, The Weeknd. It has a very 80′s synth beat. It is a very danceable song. Like I said, on the surface.... very dreamy.

Vocals transition and it still seems like he’s having a conversation with himself, or with a voice within himself. A voice telling him to “trust me, follow me... I will make it good for you.” Me: gives a side eye to that voice in Jimin’s head because now I know it’s not trustworthy. “I’ll take the pressure off, been reaching for the stars.” Chasing that high. Go easy, Jimin. Please be careful.

Yes, the lyrics are also very sexy... “give me a good ride,” and “Let me have a taste.” Yep, I’m with ya on all that... ahem... 

[Wow]

[side note: I love the make up in the bathroom scene with that stroke of silver under his eye.]

“All my reflections, I can’t even recognize.” ...what he sees of himself is not reality. He doesn’t recognize himself. Don’t try to save me. I want to stay like this. 

To me, the mud on the floor, the mud flowing down the walls, the mud on the hand that grabs his wrist at the beginning of the song, the mud on his hand at the end... could represent his perceived imperfections, flawed, therefore dirty: his struggle to cope, his less than perfect thoughts... substance abuse... the struggle that he needs to be perfect on the outside or the attempt to appear perfect on the outside but there’s all this dirt on the inside that he can’t hide any longer.....the huge pile of mud at his feet is out of place in the otherwise normal room of his life. Becoming overwhelming for him.

Some of the visuals of this song are, to put it bluntly, very, not heterosexual. Again, these are just my impressions and opinions. But a friend pointed out the photo on the front of his pants and I went looking for information about the art photographer, Robert Mapplethorpe. He was heavily involved in New York’s gay BDSM scene. Some of the things written about him: 

“In a rapidly changing society, he fearlessly confronted taboos surrounding gender, sexuality and mortality, seeking to instill beauty and dignity into subjects that lay outside accepted social norms.”

“... a man who consistently brought his audience face to face with the unknown and the unseen.”

The song ends with him reaching toward the camera to smear it with the mud to hide his imperfect self. When Jimin puts his face in front of the camera, he doesn’t want us to see his imperfections. He wants to be as perfect as he can, he says it all the time, he wants to look pretty for us, but I hope he has realized we accept him as a real human being even with his very human imperfections. 

Alone

The alarm clock goes off...yet another day...doesn’t trust the people even if they are nice to him...he’s lost...day in day out... passing out drunk and not remembering...what am I doing? am I the only one feeling like this? Alone, pretending to be ok...every day the same...how much more until I can go back to before? Feeling more and more isolated within his own mind, pretending to be ok but losing himself every day. Mayday. The cry for help. Telling himself it will be all right (we all told ourselves this back then). The small nagging voice that doesn’t believe it. 

Realizing you’ve changed and you are never going back to the way you were before. 

Not gonna lie, that line right there broke my heart. Gives new meaning to Set Me Free Pt. 2′s line: "raise your hands for the past me.” 

He was in so much trouble and no one knew. He reassured us over and over that he was fine. Not to be over-dramatic but I don’t want to think about how close he was... I have seen a few people say this song really resonated with them. It is a very powerful cry for help.

Jimin’s vocals blew me away. The vocals start out very subdued, almost beaten down. His vocal fry squeezes my heart. He ends crying out “what do I have to do to end this darkness?” Bad twilight. Night’s can be hard.

Set Me Free Pt. 2

From my post on March 17, 2023:

Going insane to stay sane. Raise your hands for the past me. Now set me free. This is where I literally cried. Oh, Jimin.

Going crazy trying to fake being ok. 

Now I know this song is about him saving himself, setting himself free from this prison he was in, the depression, breaking the chains of alcohol dependency, of telling the naysayers out there and his own internal naysayer to go fuck themselves, Park Jimin is back. Strong and beautiful and fierce. The light of the moon shining on us. 

We know he still considers soju his joy. He sounds like he’s taken control, not totally abstaining, but in control. I only wish the rest of his days are happiness and stable mental health well-being. 

Letter

So unexpected. I was in shock. My heart floated away. 

People talk about how Jimin’s album has no collabs on it, unlike the previous member’s solo work. My opinion is, when you are sharing deeply intimate feelings and emotions and struggles about yourself you don’t want or need other people/voices on your song. It’s not appropriate. 

The only exception to this was… Jungkook…not exactly a collab, but he’s there. The other songs used background vocalists who are not members of BTS. 

This song was hidden. Yes, there have been other hidden songs. But come on...

Letter has a strong stroke of Promise in the “oh, oh.” And when Jungkook starts singing it is like the world is set right because those two voices blend like nothing else I’ve ever heard. And he comes in in the middle of the song gently supporting Jimin’s vocals. But unmistakably Jungkook. I know it’s up to interpretation, but for me, the lyrics from then on take on something a little extra in meaning with Jungkook there singing with Jimin. 

You held your hand out to me and now I will hold on to you. So simple and beautiful. The sounds of the surf remind me of the song “Okinawa” that Jimin posted once. Which also reminds me of their pics at Santa Monica beach...

Letter seems to be an actual letter. When the members told him to write it down, put it in a song, maybe Jimin’s first impulse was to write it as if it was a letter. The lyrics are simple and very to the point and convey:

“...though I’m not good with words, I want to sincerely say let’s make each other happier. You who showed me I am bigger than my small self. You've been by my side and I will be by yours. I hope we stay together until the cold winter. Though the future is unknown and scary, let’s stay together. Never forget we’re together.”

There are references to past songs: Sea, Spring Day. Both of those songs were from 2017. 

But Jungkook. On a Jimin song. That was hidden. Clever. That we had no idea about...even though Kookie knocked us over the head with it when he played the guitar for us, making sure we knew he’d only had one lesson. Who do you think gave him that first guitar lesson? Jimin... and Kookie blurting out some English in his last live... who do you think he’s been practicing English with? Duh, Jimin. 

It was a hidden song AND the credits were hidden on the page in the book. They were printed in varnish only, which is basically shiny, clear ink.

You know what I think? Jungkook knew about this song since Festa dinner. The teasing about not being offered the chance to listen to the song. That little shit. I KNOW IT WAS THIS SONG!! I JUST KNOW IT!! This was the rumored subunit. Or at least one of them. I guess we’ll eventually see if there are any more between the others.

They sound so beautiful together. I love them. And as I keep saying, they are fine… they’ve been fine.

Last words...

Anyway, that was a lot of words. Maybe I got too deep. Jimin explained himself about how the album originated. 

As I was telling my friend earlier...everything in this album has peeled a layer, or several layers, away from EVERYTHING I've seen and heard from Jimin and the group since 2020. I had written some things in the past, like last June and even before that, about how Jimin seemed not well mentally. Things that I had no business saying in public because who the hell am I to think I can say something like that about someone I have never met? So I never posted those words. I never thought I would be so close to the mark in thinking those things. He’s been through it, wrote songs about it, and moved on. And I am so proud of him and this album. 

[wosowrites]

Winter Olympian (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

warnings: none

a/n: i’m pretty sure the last winter olympic games were in 2022. based off this request:

prompt: in which jessie is dating a hockey player and is watching her in the olympics along with her chelsea teammates when the reader gets injured.

You and Jessie had been together since 2020. It was honestly a miracle that you guys hadn’t met before, having both been Canadian and having been to London, Ontario at the same time, multiple times. But you only met by some coincidence in the plane going to Vancouver from England. You had been in England for hockey, and Jessie to meet different head coaches and check out facilities. She was still in University. You were in England for a hockey competition that had ended up getting cancelled due to an outbreak. Your teammates had stayed in London, but you wanted to go back to Canada and university.

It had been the splat middle of the pandemic, and only necessary flights were scheduled, and it so happened that you and Jessie were sitting, with one free seat in between you, on a plane to Canada. You had both started talking, and then you realized everything you had in common. Canada natives, olympians, high level athletes. The rest was history.

Jessie sat in her living room with relatively the whole Chelsea team. Over the years, you had become close friends with the girls, even though you lived in Canada to play hockey professionally. The room had never been more crowded. On Jessie’s couch in-front of her flatscreen TV was magda, pernille, guro, sam, niahm and herself. On the floor at their feet sat Millie, Kadeisha, Fran, Ann- Kat and Zecira. And then across the room, chairs from the dinner table had been scattered across the TV area, seating Maren, Joanna, Lauren, Jess, and Emily. It was fully. Very full.

The game started with the national anthem and the shake of hands, as soccer does. But things went different quickly. The game was full of contact, even more because it was an olympic final between USA and Canada. Jessie watched, concentrating hard. "Jesus!" Magda yelled as a player for body slammed against the walls of the rink. "It’s fine, Magda. It’s hockey." Jessie muttered absent mindedly.

In the second period, it was 2-1 for USA and you got a penalty. A player pushed you hard against the glass and you completely abandoned your stick, going over and pushing her onto the ice. A fight broke out, your team holding you back and the opposite team yelling in your face. The ref put you in the box for the two minute penalty. You took your helmet off and looked around in annoyance as you sat in the box, chewing on your mouth guard.

"Damn Fleming. Every time I see her do that mouth guard thing I remember that our little quiet JFlem pulled her." Sam teased, making her blush red. You did look good. Slightly sweaty, tangled hair and stressed eyes did nothing to your charm.

It was only three minutes after you got let out from your penalty that you got taken down. Obviously, the girl you had pushed has held a grudge. As you skated with the puck and body checked you, sending your body flying sideways into the panels.

Your left leg collided with the panel, and you knew something was wrong immediately. It was the way your knee bent backwards and you screamed before you could stop yourself. The ref didn’t stop the play immediately much to the yells and cries of your teammates. By the time the ref blew the whistle, you were sobbing in pain on the ground.

"Holy shit! Ref! Why isn’t he calling that what the hell!" Jessie yelled, standing up and screaming at the TV as the camera panned on you, your body on the ground and your leg stuck out strangely. "That looks broken…" Ann Kat whispered to Z who nodded. "Shit. Shit." Jessie sweared, sitting down and putting her head between her hands. "Hey, she’ll be okay. She will be okay." Magda said, rubbing her hand on Jessie’s back. The freckled Canadian just nodded slowly.

The medics came and got you off the rink quickly, there was no way you could keep playing. You cried as you went off the rink, your helmet abandoned behind you. Your teammates patted you on the back and you just had to tell them to keep going.

But there was nothing you could do. You sat in the medical examiners room, your gear being taken off and your body examined. And thirty minutes later, you heard the final whistle and knew that USA had won gold. You cried, more for the loss than for your leg. You knew a broke leg meant you would be out for a while, and if you were out you could stay in London with Jessie. But loosing the gold medal match… that hurt more than a broken leg ever could.

One week later.

A nice stewardess rolled you out of the plane in a wheelchair as you held your crutches and your bag. You guys talked as she brought you to the area where your luggage would be, and where Jessie would be.

As you entered the large space, you spotted her right away. It was hard not too considering the entire chelsea team was there. Tears filled your eyes as you told the woman wheeling you you were good here. You stood up carefully and Jessie rushed up to you and hugged you tightly, then kissing you a couple of times. "I’m so sorry. I’m sorry." Jessie said. "You did so good. You played so well." Jessie said to you lovingly. "I’m okay. It’s okay. I’m here with you now." You said, holding her to you and kissing her again. "And the whole chelsea team apparently." You laughed, waving at the girls. "Yeah they all insisted to come. You scared the shit out of me during that game babe." Jessie said gently.

You smiled at her as a way of apologizing but she quickly ushered you to sit down and wheeled you towards the girls who greeted you as the Chelsea girls do. Loudly.

[kohiiflux]

I will stop posting about FoM only when they update the game or me getting a part time job smh. The good thing about FoM is that it is an early access game and I could not pick a character to fell for from youtube videos like Stardew for example.

I think I played SDV during its height at the pandemic and so I quickly chose Penny as my farmer's SO, and did not try and connect with the other characters. With FoM, I am obliged to try and woo as much because of the lack of content for now. Because I know if it is a finished product I might jump to Celine ASAP.

But enough of the chit-chat, and get on to the content, Adeline being the highest contender for Flori's affection. I think the turning point is me being turned off by her on her two heart event and then I realised something interesting.

FoM saves me from art-block, but may one day my energy for drawing returns. As of now, please be content with this fanfic, a separate heart event between my Farmer and Adeline.

Chapter 1: "Archetypes" Farmer Two-heart event (Adeline)

Adeline observes the general store's renovation, she can not believe it, Mistria are building, even grander and better than before. They are even on track to be a ruby-graded town really soon. Mesmerized by the speedy construction, she jolts down every details of the building procedure.

The summer heat is really intense today. Adeline attempts to keep a bold face but her body is failing her. Her hands melt to the to her sides.

"Hey. Boss-Lady!" A brash, confident voice boomed across the plain field.

"Flori? I thought you are working?" Adeline tries to cop her hands shading her eyes from the pesky sun.

"Me and Ryis decided to take an hour break because of the heat. I brought this for you. Here ! Your daily dose of reprieve from work." Flori hands a glass of iced coffee fresh from the inn to Adeline.

"Care to talk with me in the shades for a moment?"Flori ushers her to the shades, sensing that she will faint in a few minutes.

"Sure" Adeline nods and follows the stalwart farmer to a nearby shades.

Distant, everything felt distant.

The first time Flori arrived at Mistria, she was flirtatious. In any chance she has, she will almost certainly flirts with anyone that has a pulse - aside for March and Juniper who immediately shuts her advances that is. She even flirted with her at the first moment they met, and regularly gave her tulips every weekdays and coffee every Saturday - but not anymore.

Was it because of the board meeting?

Adeline has felt a riff between her and the new owner of the "Vinegrove Estate" building since she brought her in one of her regular work meetings. Was she put off by her ?

"Hey, Flori." Adeline nudges Flori who is lost in her own thoughts.

"Oh- yeah hm?" Flori jumps out of shock at the single nudge.

"You were the one who asked me to talk to you? Why the silence then?" Adeline slurps her iced coffee ever so loudly.

"Oh right uhm... I just wanted to talk to you about some new quest board mechanics that might make it easier for me to help the people. -- Oh ! Have you seen these new bruises ? it came from the mines..." Flori rocks back and forth, pinching the edges of her shirt to hide her nervousness.

"You know you could just tell me if there is something bothering you. Right?" Adeline read her like a book.

They might not be as close as her and Eiland, but Adeline has read a plethora of romance book to infer some deductions of the farmer. Although she is unsure at which archetype the farmer belongs to as of now, she hates the fact that one of the people she works with are hiding some things from her.

"How can you see that? There's nothing bad between us y'know. You don't have to worry about anything." Flori finishes her lemonade.

"Really ? I was a bit worried. I mean you are the town's philanderer... It's kind of worrisome that you didn't try to romance all the gentle men and ladies of the town - that includes me..." Adeline shrugs

"Not that I really enjoy your advances but … It's a bit weird for you to act so differently." She continues enjoying her iced coffee.

"Ah... About that..." Flori sighs.

"Do you remember about that work meeting you invited me to?" Flori tries to drink the melted ice from her drink.

Here it is, Adeline thought. Another person getting put off by her working habits. It is nothing new.

"You were...so sincere then, you know?" Flori fiddles her finger on her ponytail.

Adeline stops and looks back at Flori, the wind blows ever so softly between them and leaves fell slowly to the ground. Time always marches forward but it goes slower for the time being.

"Heh? Are you trying to flirt with me right now ?" "No I mean it !? You ruined me, Adeline." Flori chuckles.

Flori pinches her nose bridge and shakes her head.

"I can't possibly play around when you were so sincere at your work rebuilding Mistria. It's sorta inspiring actually." Flori shyly moves away from Adeline. At this point she looks like Dozy who was scolded by Juniper.

Come to think of it, There's an increase of shipments from the Vinegrove Estate by ten-folds in the past weeks. Adeline stares at Flori, every moment worrier than the last.

"Are you sick ? You shouldn't work in this condition ?! Where is Valen when you need her ?!" Adeline shakes Flori.

"I am serious ! geez- the point is, I will support you as a friend and will do better for Mistria as a farmer. You'll have my word."

Adeline let out a sigh of relief and smiles.

"Alright, at least I know you are sincere at your work now." Adeline pats Flori at the back.

"Let's hang outside of work more ? Who knows. I might join Dungeons and Dramas one of these days..... How's Dame Silverslash sounds?" Flori grins.

"Flori ! times up ! Let's head back to work !" Ryis calls everyone back to earth.

"Times up ! Come on Adeline !" Flori runs back to the construction site, leaving Adeline to dusts.

Adeline has read a lot of romantic books in her past time, she remembers all of the characters' motives, archetypes and more. But it is not that simple for a person. Adeline smiled and follows them back to the site.

-END-

Man I am sorta convince that I should pair them in the end but we'll see.

[wonuwrites]

"A House In Nebraska" ot13 Song Reaction

Before we start: Warning: this song is heavy and talks about really heavy topics and even mentions about Suicidal thoughts. Personally, I, @wonuwrites don't like writing about suicide or suicidal thoughts because it is a very triggering subject for so many people (myself included.) I will mention the suicide part in this reaction. Having said that, PLEASE do not read this reaction if it will affect you in a negative way. You are WAY more important than a fanfiction on this silly website. if you ever need to talk, please message me.

Just wanted to put this warning before we started because I felt it was important.

requested from this anon x

Warning/author's note : This will be a lot more heavier than things I usually write. (pls send me pet pictures or fluffy wonwoo drabbles) This will be post-apocalyptic themed with hints of the song "A House In Nebraska" by Ethel Cain. There will be talks of suicide like I mentioned above, also death, dread, trauma, and so many other things. I will write happier drabbles and things after this so please once again if this is too heavy please skip. I love you all and want everyone to be safe. I know I say this often but please if you are a minor- DO NOT INTERACT. Also this took so long for me to write because it was rough to write. I had to make sure I was mentally okay <3

Just like all my song preferences before: members parts will be in order of the song lyrics.

Let the angst begin <3

Scene:

Everything was normal for a year until some governments were a little bored and decided to do experiments on their inmates of the respected countries. Some of these experiments went a little haywire and caused a pandemic. The pandemic caused a very contagious disease that made 2020's COVID-19 look like child's play. The disease made people lose their minds and the only way to cure it was to put them down. Many people compared it to be a modern day zombie apocalypse except for zombies it was homicidal psychopaths. When the pandemic first happened, you and your boyfriend (member of Seventeen) took refuge in a House in Nebraska, USA. It was secluded and you both thought nobody would find you and harm you. Happy endings don't always happen though. After many days of skipped meals and sleepless nights, the worst happened. You watched the love of your life walk out the door to get some food from the garden when a stray homicidal was walking down the road. Before he could grab a gun to kill the homicidal, the Homicidal shouted alerting more Homicidal's to come. There you watched the love of your life try to defend you both before getting infected. It was then when you had to defend yourself from the Homcidal's and even the love of your life. After shooting the only person who knew you for you, these were the memories that would haunt you until your dying breath.

Actual Members Reactions Now~

⌂ DK: "Labored breaths and bed sores, sing it to me all day long, when the aching 'Sound of Silence,' used to be our favorite song."

It had been no more than two awful weeks since you had to kill Seokmin. The memory of the look in his eyes when he realized he was infected scared you. It haunted you. He slid you the gun and just whispered "I love you, (Y/N)." You had to do it but it killed you to do so. Ever since, you just laid on the once shared dirty mattress. At this point you had been just laying down and getting bed sores due to lack of activity but in all honesty, you just wanted to return to the love of your life. You didn't want to live without him any longer. You felt your breath getting labored and you closed your eyes praying that it was your time to go. As if it were a miracle, you heard faintly the love of your life singing "sound of silence" which used to be your favorite song due to the memes. You choked back a sob before whispering, "I'm coming home Seokmin, I am so sorry."

⌂ Mingyu: "You and me against the world, you were my man and I your girl."

You stared down at your whole world who starred back up at you with blood dripping down his chin. He was still warm but he was gone. You looked around and saw a lot of other Homicidal's scattered across the gravel driveway. You didn't have one clear thought as you realized what you had to do. The one person who promised to be with you until the end of time was shot because of you. You both swore that if one of you got infected, you would shoot one or the other no matter what. However, with the seclusion of the house in Nebraska you both thought that it just would not happen and things would eventually be better. Life without Mingyu now though, it wouldn't be better even if this pandemic ended. So you did what you had to do. You dragged Mingyu into the house and drenched both you and his body in gasoline. You cried while doing so because the thought of dying was horrifying, however living was just not an answer as well. You took a deep breath before pressing a kiss onto Mingyu's forehead. You held onto him as you flicked the lighter and set both of you ablaze. The world may have won this battle, however you knew that you would both find each other in every lifetime that came.

⌂ Dino: "And I still call home that house in Nebraska, where we found each other on a dirty mattress on the second floor."

Once the pandemic hit Korea, you both ran refuge to America because there were more places to be secluded. Chan always joked that Nebraska was a myth because "nobody lives there" until that's where you found home. A worn out house that looked like it had been vacant since 1958. There wasn't much to it but a dirty mattress on the second floor. Any fear of germs vacated as it seemed better than a hardwood floor. The first night you spent on that dirty mattress, Dino and you had torn up some of your own shirts to use as a sheet and held each other for comfort. You swore that no matter what you would be together.

⌂ Woozi: "Where you told me even if we died tonight, that I'd die yours."

Jihoon and you made a promise that you would be together throughout the whole pandemic. You both would live together or you both would die together. After surviving for months, living seemed so much brighter. You both were a light to each other during this dark time. When you saw Jihoon get bit, you felt like your world shattered. He tossed the gun at you and looked up at you begging you to shoot him. You ended up shooting the rest of the homicidals but left the love of your life for last. "Y/N, kill me." You heard him beg. He wasn't infected quite yet but the color in his eyes was starting to change. It was a matter of time before he was like the homicidals. So you did what you promised him. You sat in front of him and put your head against his temple. He tried to push you off when he realized you were planning on shooting both of you at the same time. He wanted you to live but you still fired the shot killing him and injuring you. You ended up passing from lack of blood next to the love of your life. You both died together and as each others persons. Just like you promised.

⌂ Joshua: "Your mama calls me sometimes to see if I'm doing well and I lie to her."

About a year after shooting Jisoo, the pandemic had been lifted. You left the house in Nebraska and tried to live life the way you had before meeting Jisoo, before the pandemic and it was hard. It was so fucking hard. Especially since most of his family had survived. His mother would call you once a month once the pandemic was over even though she knew what you did. When you saw her name on your phone, guilt always ate you. She told you she didn't blame you and you shouldn't do the same thing however it was easier said than done. Whenever she asked how you were doing, you always gave her little white lies in hopes that she would believe you and hope that someday it would be true.

⌂ Vernon: "And I say I'm doing fine when really I'd kill myself to hold you one more time."

After Hansol passed, you left the house in Nebraska after setting him on fire. The only thing you had left of him was a plaid shirt that he wore often. You wore it every day and left with it on. You found a camp of other survivors and they welcomed you in with open arms. Nobody knew what you did but they knew you saw some heavy things. Someone named San was at the camp as well and wanted to know why you didn't smile. He would ask you how you were doing and your answer was always the same. "I'm fine." It was a safe answer and one San realized would be the only thing you would give. You thought San was nice however, your heart was burnt in Nebraska along with Hansol. Each day that passed, you wanted to kill yourself so you could be with your other half. Living without Hansol was the worst pain and nobody could ever understand.

⌂ Seungkwan: "And it hurts to miss you but it's worse to know that I'm the reason you won't come home."

You didn't know what hurt more. Missing Seungkwan being around physically or feeling remorse for killing him. When he took his last breath, you knew it was what you had to do but it didn't make the pain any more bearable. Seungkwan was your missing piece. He was the ying to your yang. The Bonnie to you Clyde. He was everything and him not being there was simply awful. You spent so many hours a day crying and just craving him to hold you just one more time. However you knew that he couldn't come back. You just prayed he would be waiting for you.

⌂ S. Coups: "You know, I still wait at the edge of town praying straight to God that maybe you'll come back around."

Killing Seungcheol drove you mad. You knew he was gone but you still would look out the window and walk to edge of town hoping to see him running home to you. Maybe him being infected was just a bad dream and he was coming to your makeshift home with some much needed supplies. Maybe he was still alive and you would see him again soon. One night when you made your way to the edge of town you saw a being in the distance. He looked so much like Seungcheol. Your heart started beating faster than ever as you started running toward 'Seungcheol.' As soon as you made it to them, you realized it was a scarecrow that was just propped up. You fell to your knees and started wailing out Seungcheol's name. You sobbed until you couldn't handle it anymore and just laid down and prayed to God that you could be reunited with your one true love once again. It took a few hours but soon your last breath was taken laying right next to the scarecrow.

⌂ Wonwoo: "I cry everyday, and the bottles make it worse 'cause you were the only one I was scared to tell I hurt."

You were no stranger to Jack Daniels and mental breakdowns prior to meeting Wonwoo all those years ago. You struggled with mental health and the only one who knew how deep your mental health struggles and alcohol uses was Wonwoo. So when you shot him with his own gun you ran back to what you knew best. Your addictions. You used to be afraid to confess when you missed alcohol to him but with him you ended up being a year sober. However, the familiar taste of whiskey burning the back of your throat numbed the regret and remorse. You knew he would've shook his head at your actions but at the same time, who could blame you?

⌂ Minghao: "I thought you were so beautiful, it was love, I guess."

Once the pandemic hit, it was hard to see things as beautiful. However, when you met Minghao at a camp before you made yourself home in that house in Nebraska, you thought he was so beautiful. His giggles that ended up haunting your every thoughts, the soft stare he'd give you, the way his arms would wrap around you when life got too scary. It was all so beautiful. One of the main regrets you had was that you didn't realize how much you loved this beautiful man until it was too late. When he was gone, dullness took over again and it was hard to find anything beautiful.

⌂ Hoshi: "And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night."

Delusions started to eat you alive, you ended up just thinking Soonyoung left you instead of you murdering him. You thought it was just a scary nightmare and he was just getting supplies for you both to survive. So you waited for him. You stayed up staring at the door like a stranded puppy waiting for their owner to come home from a silly 9-5. You lost track of the days and couldn't remember the last time you ate. However, you heard a noise from the outside and all you could think of was Soonyoung. You opened the door and ran to the tall figure. You didn't realize it was a homicidal until you felt venom run through your veins. By then it was too late and you were one of them.

⌂ Jun: "But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright."

Out of all the members, Jun actually survived. You shot the dirt next to him and he played 'dead.' He heard your screams of heartbreak and he felt so horrible. However, he knew the homicidal's came for a reason and he had just found a cure for a bite. However, there was not enough food for both you and him so he hid the fact that there was a cure from you. Instead, he decided to "die" and leave the food and everything for you in that house. After you did a shallow grave for him, he crawled out of the grave and made his way to a camp. He oathed if he could find more supplies he would come back for you. However, after he found more supplies and food he came back to an empty house. There was no sign of you and it broke him. He blamed himself. He should have told you what he discovered. He would spend every moment until his last breath trying to figure out what happened and where you went.

⌂ Jeonghan: "And I feel so alone out here and I feel so alone without you."

Prior to Jeonghan, you considered yourself super independent. You could take care of yourself because that was all you had known how to do. However, once you met Jeonghan, you became codependent. As much as you could, you turned your brain off because he always had a plan. You always were together so when he passed, you felt so alone. You tried your best to find who you were before Jeonghan came into your life but it was practically impossible. Everytime you thought about moving on, you felt a piece of you die. One night when it was raining, you couldn't handle laying down on a dirty mattress by yourself anymore so you went to his grave and laid next to it. You felt insane as you started to put soil on you to feel closer to him but believe it or not you felt him there. You closed your eyes as rain droplets continued to splatter across your face and took your last breath. You couldn't wait to be reunited with Jeonghan.

holy shit it's finally finished. I hope you enjoyed this. Sorry it was so heavy. fluffy shit is coming <3

[itsoutrageouss]

Like a bellflower - chapter two

chapter two of like a bellflower, a Joel Miller x Fem!Oc fanfiction

warnings: blood, violence, clickers, typical tlou things

words: 2,4k

Story taglist // chapter one

2. No ammo, no sleep

✿✿✿

The soles of my feet were aching. We hadn’t spoken since he gave me his name. I tested it wordlessly on my tongue, joel, joel joel. Lot of tongue work in the name. As we walked, the sun baked over os, glaring peacefully at the destroyed land around us. The suburb houses with vines snaking over the woodwork, a firefly mark on one of them, I noted. 

Joel didn’t stop, or talk so I didn't either. I hadn’t felt this kind of peace in a while, I noted. Since that day, that damned day when Kade found me, nothing but terror had reigned in my body. It still did, creeping and simmering in the backbones of my body, under the waves it bubbled but I left it undisturbed for the time. 

As we moved, I thought it more and more ridiculous that the horse wasn’t used to carry at least one of us- I understood fully that it's a lovely companion to have just in itself but in today's world survival and practicality came first, and anything could be used as something it wasn’t. And I knew for a fact that horses were often used to carry people. 

I think Joel saw it in my face, when he from time to time looked over the horse to make sure I was still there, and saw my envious glare on the bag that was strapped over the horse. He too didn’t say anything. I felt like I was playing a game with him. Maybe if I lost and talked first he’d leave me on the roadside and ride off. Just the thought made a rush of anxiety shoot up my throat and into my mouth, my teeth clenching down hard on nothing. 

I think hours went by. I put a hand on the warm, moving body of the chestnut horse and closed my eyes, letting it lead me forward. I imagined I was back in Spain. Lovely, warm Spain with the orange trees and the stone courtyards. The sun was the same that had shone on my child-self in the rural part of the country, as well as in the city, when it would peak through church bells swinging back and forth. Sometimes I wondered, if we hadn’t gone back to the US for those couple of months -we pendled back and forth between America and Spain ever since i was born- life would’ve been different. My dad loved Spain more than anything- he would’ve gotten around better than we did here. But of course, doing a worldwide pandemic no flight would take us back. Now I knew I would never get to see the beauty of it again, and I didn't dare think of how it looked now; drowned in the dust of ruin and violence. I imagined the entire country had been enveloped by an impenetrable bubble. Everything there would be the same, spanish men with tan skin and loud laughs, nuns with kind smiles, dusty cats snaking around your ankles in the plazas. 

“Belle?” Joel's gruff voice shook me from my daydream, and I realized that my eyes had been closed the entire time. When i opened them again, joel was in front of me, blocking the bright sun that now shimmered around his shadow like he was an angel. 

“Hm?” 

“If you’re needing anything, now is the time to stock up,” he said, moving out of the way. We were at the foot of a bigger city. The kind with skyscrapers that had cracked halfway down like an old tree in a storm. The kind where plants had overgrown over every surface. Despite everything, the plants thrived and looked more beautiful than when us humans had control over the world. Now we felt like subjects to nature again. 

“Okay.” I needed ammo. I actually didn’t have any left. When I had pointed my gun at Joel, it was as empty a promise as it could be. All I could've done was throw it at him really hard. Maybe he knew. 

“You need ammo,” he said bluntly and started walking. Yes, he definitely knew. I sighed. An old convenience store snaked around the first corner we came to. The windows had been smashed and it looked dark and wet inside. This city might be infected by thousands, I thought. I pulled out a little knife from my belt. 

“Behind me,” Joel ordered, and his broad shoulder obstructed my view, his hands up and steady around his gun, back held tightly in suspense as we opened the door. Strangely enough, the little bell still worked and rang loudly as Joel opened the door. We were greeted, unluckily. A hoarse, broken sound of something once human screeched out as soon as we stepped inside. 

“Hide,'' Joel hissed, pushing me to the side behind an old rack of magazines. I nearly slipped on the dirty tile floor, wet with mud and blood and footprints. I snaked along the isles and pressed up against the corner. Joel was ahead, peering out behind the magazines. Clicking noises. They made shivers dance up my spine and I had to stop my body from crawling in on itself. On my left, between the back wall and an old produce aisle, I heard a low snarl and a click click click. Those noises were impossible for any human to make, ear piercing even when whispered. 

Joel moved swiftly and I whipped my head around to see him charge forward and out of my sight. If he didn’t know about the second clicker, it would come at him unprepared when the other would howl into its death. And I couldn’t tell him. I clutched the knife until the bones in my hand shook and left footsteps of mud as I ran the other way from Joel. I didn’t have time to strategise, or sneak because I heard the roar of the other clicker. It was like the sound activated something in me because I hurled onto the other clicker, stabbing with all my might into the stringy, meaty neck of the monster. The feel of the knife penetrating through flesh ripped through my hand, but I did it again. And again. Its arms flailed out trying to pry me off by scratching along my legs. Being clamored to such a nasty creature made me want to run; fast, hard and far. Instead I stabbed it over and over wherever the knife would hit, hoping it wouldn’t tear my own skin on accident. A pair of very human hands grabbed the creature's head and flung it to the ground, shaking me off simultaneously. I fell flat on my ass while Joel put one last stab in its back and the sounds died out with a painful wheeze. 

The palms of my hands burned where they had scraped the ground, blood mixing with mud. 

“Are you okay?” Joel asked, his gun pointed to the ground, though he still held it tight to his body, peering out the broken glass and into the backrooms of the kiosk. I reached up, and to my surprise tears were warm on my cheeks again. I really had to stop crying so much. I nodded and went to stand up. My bones had seemed to liquify and I might've fallen into a puddle, like spilled ice cream if I tried moving. 

I was so tired. My body had been on high alert ever since- ever since I killed all those people, and Kane found me on the ground. At that moment I hated that I didn’t have any bullets. He thought I was dead, but I scattered like a mouse when he tried to ransack me for stuff. I surrendered fully to him and his group- the only people around me that hadn’t died. 

��Hey! Are you hurt?” Joel asked, louder and seemingly annoyed at my lack of response. 

“No.” I didn’t have any wounds, at least. With a slipping grip I held onto the aisle shelves and dragged my skeleton up. A handprint of dark blood was left on the white, shiny metal. I didn’t want to look at it, and didn’t want to know how I looked, splattered in blood and tears. I bet my hair was all messed up. I liked to be clean in this unsanitary world but found it increasingly harder as time went by to uphold the same face and delicacy as before. My personal battle with the world; I was a restorer of softness in a place where everything was dirty and old. It was an art I felt everyone around me had left behind- the small joys and beauties of caring for yourself. Nice smells, blooming flowers, red cheeks. 

I started, realizing I was just standing, with no purpose or expression. Joel was growing impatient and I picked up my knife, sheathed it after cleaning it thoroughly. 

Joel had already moved along into the next room. 

“You needed ammo?” he asked, muffled behind walls. I puffed up my chest and willed my feet to move. The room was dark and humid. His back was turned to me, broad and bending over crates. 

I didn’t want more ammo, truth be told. “Yes. I don’t have any at all, actually.”

“What gun do you have?” he was rummaging still, pulling things out and placing them in a bag. I didn’t know.

“This one,” I muttered, fishing it out and holding it flat in my palm, balancing it carefully without touching it. The blood on my hands was staining and creasing in the lines of my palm. 

He only took a look at it before turning back around. I went to put the pack of ammo into my bag. The cardboard was wet and the bullets nearly fell from the absolving encasement. 

“You’re supposed to put them in the gun, you know?” Joel said with a brow raised. The scarce hint of amusement and sarcasm was the most emotion he’d expressed in the last 8 hours of knowing each other. It made me nervous, i felt ridiculous because obviously they were going in the gun but i'd rather put it off. I fumbled and the cardboard fell apart beneath my fingertips and bullets scattered onto the tiles, clanging loudly. Joel raised a hand to silence me, looking around. There was a pregnant pause. No clickers. 

I fell to the floor and picked the bullets up one by one, putting them into the holster with gritted teeth. Now it was done. No one said I had to use it just because it was loaded, though that was probably what was expected of me. Joel kept looking at me as if he was trying to figure something out. I didn’t want him to figure anything out so I headed back out into the sun. I felt his eyes following me, and once again I hid behind the horse. The trusty, big horse that divided us. I felt the muscles of its stomach contract under my palm as I smoothed along its side where the sun had hit. It felt the dust that clung to its coat, sweeping it off meticulously until the chestnut brown shone brightly. 

“What’s your name pretty?”  I asked sweetly, feeling the unmatched softness of a horse's mule. It breathed warm air onto the bare skin of my arm, bowing its head like a greeting to me. Whatever was on Joel's mind, he seemed to have dropped it when he came back.

“Doesn’t have one.” Instead of shying away on the other side of the animal, he stood in front of me, a hand held out waitingly. I screwed up my face in confusion. Did he want me to shake his hand? Give him something?

“You can barely walk straight.” he replied to my silent question. I felt grateful, but I didn’t want him to know that my feet were dying. I wasn’t going to be a bother to him already, especially not if he would start pulling me on the horse like a kid.

“That’s okay, I don’t mind walking,” I smiled, but I couldn't make it reach my eyes. I remember my dad would pull the horse along when we had wandered for nearly two days. I'd lay on its thick neck, watching the trees stroll past with half-lidded eyes. Someone stole our horse, though. 

“You follow my rules when you’re with me. We’re riding.” He unbound the horse and got up himself, scooting forward so I could sit behind him. With some awkward difficulty, grabbing Joel's jacket to pull myself up and almost pulling him down, I got up. The horse was big and spacious enough to leave some room between us. My legs tingled with exhaustion; felt light like when you took off a heavy backpack and I fought not to lean forward for something to rest on. I felt the strong body move underneath my legs, shifting us side to side as we rode slowly forward. The sun filtered in and out between the trees as we rode through the city. I peered up at the broken skyscrapers, plants blossoming out of its cracks like the kraken attacking a pirate ship. The horse rocked me like a crib, and with the steady rhythm of hooves, my spine curled more and more. Eventually my head knocked against Joel's back every few minutes. I only took in the world around me in abstract terms, like an art museum. Colors, shapes, sounds, fading in and out of reality. I didn’t even realize when the hooves stopped lulling me to sleep. 

“C’mon, scoot,” Joel suddenly wasn’t in front of me, and I nearly fell forward, catching myself on the broad horseback just in time with frail arms. I dragged myself forward drowsily by his command until my hands could reach the thick, warm neck. I felt Joel behind me, his arms encasing my sides as he grabbed the toils again. His legs squeezed the sides of mine to keep me falling. I tried to start myself awake somehow, tried grabbing the toils or lifting my neck that was impossibly heavy like lead. 

“Just go to sleep,” Joel's voice was soothing and low, and I'd barely registered his words before I fell backwards into him, head lolling against his shoulder. He didn’t move and I dozed off in a matter of seconds, but not before a little, warm tear rolled down my cheek. I hadn’t felt safe going to sleep for years before now.

✿✿✿

taglist:

@orcasoul @ashhlsstuff @rav3n-pascal22 @anyalc0h0lic @morgaussy @joelmillersblog @frecklefacelm @leqonsluv3r @jasminmariesworld @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @dugiioh

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

A few things on my couple of days in the Scottish Highlands, as I lie in bed not wanting to get up yet, for my first full day in Edinburgh (I woke up early but I'm tired).

It was, of course, incredible. Better than I imagined, in my imagination where I tried to temper expectations. There was no need to do that. I didn't do any social media posting while I was there, mainly because I was so genuinely in the moment that I didn't feel any desire to look at my phone. During the rest of the trip, I've been posting during the down time, when nothing else is happening. During the last 2 days, I had almost nothing but down time, as I was just sitting on trains, but the down time was for enjoying incredible views.

I rode the train London-Edinburgh-Glasgow-Fort William on Thursday, stayed in Fort William overnight, then on Friday got a train that went Fort William-Mallaig, then stayed in my seat while that same train went Mallaig-Glasgow. Then got another train Glasgow-Edinburgh. Since I got here, I've been thinking the train rides are so cool but too short because everything on this island is too close together. Yesterday I did not have to get up from a train seat between 8 AM in Fort William and 3:30 PM in Glasgow, so that was nice. Though with views like that, I could easily have gone longer.

I took some pictures while I was there, but not too many, because I knew pictures don't do it justice. The internet is full of pictures of those places, I've been looking at them a lot for the past year. And they're pretty, but the reality was obviously much better, and there's no way to keep that so I didn't try too hard. I also sort of don't want to reduce them to a post on social media, so I won't put those pictures here. Just trust me, mountains and ocean and train in the same place is incredible. Most incredible scenery I've ever seen in my life. The only thing that comes close is when I read tripped around NZ, but this was better because it was from a train, instead of from a van that I kept being afraid my Kiwi friends would drive off those precarious cliffs.

Recommended music pairings: it turns out that listening to the entirety of the 1993 album North Country, by Canada's Cape Breton band The Rankin Family, goes nicely with the rail journey from Fort William to Mallaig, rated on the internet as one of the most scenic train journeys in the world. For the ride back from Mallaig to Fort William, may I recommend the 1993 album Closer to Paradise, by Canada's Cape Breton band The Barra MacNeils? Something as cool as this was no time to mess around with music I'm unsure about. Have to go with Nova Scotian folk music that came out when I was three, that mybdad purchase from folk festival merch tents that year so hearing them in the living room are among my earliest memories and they're still among my favourite albums today. I've had 30 years of testing those albums enough to be sure they're the right thing to play during one of the most scenic train journeys in the world, and I was right.

...I also like saying this because I feel like I only reference music by men on here, but I do sometimes listen to women, I promise! Rankin Family and Barra MacNeils are two bands with a mix of genders, but both dominated by female vocals. And the Rankins, at least, had their membership change a bit through the years but always had more female members than male ones. Jimmy Rankin might be the only one of them who went on to a major soli career (I don't mean to disparage that, I love his solo albums), but Raylene's vocals really carried that band.

Every time I listen to the Rankin song Leis an Lurgainn, I feel like I should be listening to it while riding trains through incredible mountain scenery. I finally got to do that and confirm that yep, I have found a situation that matches the soaring sensations this song invokes.

During the bits between Fort William and Glasgow, I went with David O'Doherty's Live in His Car During a Pandemic album, for it's nice reflective vibes that pair well with mountains, it turns out. Every time I listen to this album, I feel like I should be lying on my back at the top of a hill near the ocean, in the middle of the night in a wind storm. But trains through mountains are a close second for the best environment in which to listen to it.

I mixed in some Bobby Watt, and a bunch of that song that goes by many names - Go Lassie Go, Wild Mountain Thyme, Blooming Heather, Purple Heather - and I have so many versions of it on my phone, because it's my favourite of those folk songs that everyone has covered (best versions are Kate Rusby, Bruce Guthro, and Buddy MacDonald). It's about the purple flowers that grow on Scottish mountains, and I got to listen to it while seeing the purple heather on Scottish mountains for real, and that was so fucking cool!

Then for the last couple of hours of the journey, I listened to the recording of the last night of Late 'n' Live from Edinburgh 2007, featuring Andy Zaltzman, 2/3 of We Are Klang, 4/3 of Pappy's Fun Club (Crosby, Parry, Clark, & Dodds), and David O'Doherty with Kitson compering. One of my top few favourite bootlegs and for good reason. My God was that ever funny. And such a classic that it's one of the very few bootegs I feel like it's okay to reference directly. It was 17 years ago, it counts as ancient history at this point. I am so grateful to the person who preserved that one. Every time I listen to it (which is quite a lot), I feel like I should be listening to it while arriving by train you Edinburgh for the Fringe Festival. Didn't think I'd get to actually do it one day.

All right I'm going to go have breakfast now and them go watch some comedy. Hope everyone's having a good day.

[gyuluttony]

Camera Weight

oooh once again, if i'm not given something, i'm just going to keep pushing out the minwon mutual gain fics because something about them has my brain like hardwired rn sdfjhs i hope y'all don't get sick of me writing them in situations like this. i mainly write scenarios that get my rocks off so a lot of them are similar because i like this stuff SDFJS

As a warning, this is a feederism fic and features weight gain, mutual gaining, weight gain denial and dry humping. Don't like, don't read.

The setting for this one is that Wonwoo is an office worker who didn't end up going to the office post pandemic so works from home and Mingyu is a mukbanger. You can see where I'm going here.

Wonwoo closed the laptop that he had for work, making sure that the fake smile he wore stayed on for a couple of moments even after being aware that the camera was long hidden. When he heard the sound of the device powering down, he let out a sigh of relief.

Every work meeting was so tiring. He could only be so amused in seeing Seungkwan and Soonyoung butt heads and it seemed that Jihoon shared the same sentiment considering he looked just as tired when the meeting finished. When the team leads had such vast creative differences, it was a miracle any work could be done.

The miracle in question being named Jeon Wonwoo. Looking at his wristwatch, Wonwoo hurriedly pushed his laptop to the side as he started his home desktop, a set up that was used for much more important matters than organizing spreadsheets and data.

His phone buzzed and he saw Jihoon's contact name as well as a text: "Have fun on your date 😘" Wonwoo felt his face grow warm as he grimaced. Of course he would have slipped while drunk and accidentally confided one of his darkest secrets in a while to his best friend, but he didn't realize it was a free pass to jab at him whenever.

As his screen switched on, there was a small smile that came across his face as he opened Youtube, eager to see the face that he had grown a little parasocially attached to in the past couple of months. The wide smile of the other man pulled at the corners of his mouth as he watched him.

"Wow, it's like the turn out gets bigger for every live that I have!" He waved eagerly and Wonwoo shyly waved back at the screen, almost as if the other man could see him through it. Wonwoo reached for the bag that was at the side of his desk, pulling out his meal.

He had always been a peculiar case when it came to remembering to eat. In school, he had no problem with it because everyone around him ate around the same time but if there was no one to eat with, he just didn't feel the urge to. It was a rather atrocious habit to have but it didn't affect him all too much.

Until he got to work and working from home with his new position. Now, it wasn't out of the blue for him to work the whole day and spend his lunch playing games until Jihoon called him out for it because he was concerned at how much weight Wonwoo had lost in the past couple of months. He was well aware of his friend's habit when it came to eating so he recommended that tried just watching some mukbang streams on his lunch break so it was like he had company.

It was helpful actually! Slowly, he was remembering to eat and just eating properly in general. That was until he found Kimgyu. A mukbang channel that had grown in popularity around the time Wonwoo started paying attention. Originally, he just wanted to see what all the hype was about until he actually tuned in.

A fit, handsome young man who cooked meals for himself for videos and streamed his mukbangs afterwards. The meals he cooked looked good and honestly, Wonwoo admitted that the one making the meals looked even better so he became something of a dedicated fan.

"Today, I made a lot actually... I don't know if I can finish everything that's in here but we'll see." Wonwoo opened his own matching containers as he prepared to eat.

Did they mess up his order? It looked bigger than usual. As he popped a dumpling into his mouth, he shrugged it off since it tasted as good as it usually did. Kimgyu was rather popular for telling stories and anecdotes and realizing he shared a little too much on livestreams but the ditz factor was something that Wonwoo liked (and would rather die than admit).

Kimgyu slurped the noodles in his pan full of them and chewed while he read some responses, "Oh, you're going to get puffy if you're eating that much." A smile comes across his face, "Ah, you're talking about my face. I am getting a lot puffier in general though, don't you think?"

Wonwoo felt his face grow hot, watching Kimgyu show off his new belly in profile on the camera. It was starting to pooch out and he had barely eaten anything. That wasn't there when he first started watching him and... it was making him feel all sorts of things.

Squirming in his computer chair, Wonwoo felt the warmth spread into his system more as he listened, "I do work out still but honestly, I'm starting to explore dishes a lot more instead and I can only do so much cardio." There was a whining tone in Kimgyu's voice that sent shivers down Wonwoo's spine before he was interrupted. "Oh, but I think everyone's enjoying themselves lately it's fine!"

All the chat became a chorus asking why he came to that conclusion and Wonwoo was now hyperaware of the fat around his face, only making his pout more babylike. "I think everyone is just having better food these days! There's..." It was Kimgyu's turn to blush as the chat teased him and encouraged him to continue and he looked rather shy.

Wonwoo wiped his hands on his hoodie as he typed, 'There's what?'

The hand on Kimgyu's face hid a smile as he admitted, "You guys... need to make sure this stays between us. I'm not saying it in a mean way!" Wonwoo nodded, acting like it was a one-on-one conversation while he ate large bites of his rice bowl.

"There's a guy in my building and when I moved in a year ago, he was like... small. Which, there's nothing wrong with! But, he was around my height and I was worried like even the wind would blow him over. But, when I see him recently, he's gotten more sturdy so now, I think it's not like putting on weight is a bad thing."

The chat began to tease him and Kimgyu looked flustered as he explained hurriedly, "I- I mean he's always looked good but he looks even better n- I think I'm just going to stop talking about it." Stuffing his face with a large mouthful of noodles, Kimgyu stated, "So, don't worry about me getting puffy! I'm eating well."

The stream continued and Wonwoo was left wondering why he was feeling the most turned on he's felt in a while. Was... Kimgyu into guys that put on weight? It was one thing to know that he was into guys but it was another that it was a possible fetish as to why he had been getting bigger recently.

Wonwoo opened some videos after the stream, looking at the videos he found when he located Kimgyu's channel for the first time. His arm muscles were bulging because he admitted to doing cooking videos after his workouts. His pecs were large and firm, always making their presence known in his clothes and his ass was doing the same down lower.

But, in the recent videos, these same clothes showed just how much he had been enjoying those meals. Gone was the small waist that Wonwoo drooled over on a couple of occasions, replaced with something that was burgeoning with fat and pressing into his shirt by the end of his streams. At the end of today's, he could have sworn he saw golden skin spill out of the fabric and his hand slipped under his pants to stroke himself at the thought. He had been eating himself bigger everyday and let his massive internet fanbase know about it.

It was hard not to pay attention after. Seeing the way his gut was starting to rest on counters while he was mixing, making the appendage jiggle. Wonwoo couldn't really say that he was only watching because he needed the company to eat. He was watching because he was getting his rocks off on seeing Kimgyu get fatter with each passing week.

From the shots that lingered on his ass that only got wider and stretching the seams of his pants with each and every video or the belly that was no longer able to be contained in shirts, he was going to sleep to the sound of Kimgyu's voice, giving directions on how to cook kimchi fried rice that does good in a caloric deficit while his body showed itself to be in a heavy surplus.

He was still eating with him during the mukbang streams but Wonwoo found himself eating a lot longer considering Kimgyu's portion sizes were growing each time as well. But, it was hard not to get side tracked as he moaned about how full he was, even slipping his hand under his shirt to rub the bloated belly that Wonwoo had pictured plenty of times before seeing white in his vision.

It was a little upsetting he missed the final livestream celebration for his two million subscriber milestone. He was working overtime on a project and most people could sense the grumpy energy from Wonwoo as he typed away at his computer in the office.

"Yo." Jihoon's easygoing gesture was met with a rather cold side eye that would have swayed anyone away. Unfortunately for Wonwoo, Jihoon was well aware that Wonwoo just looked like that and it wasn't pointed... mostly.

"Remind me to never let Seungkwan and Soonyoung lead a project again." A chuckle comes from his friend, laughing at his misery. "Well, this was one of the company's biggest successes in a while so I have some bad news for you."

Wonwoo's groan must have been music to Jihoon's ears at the way his laughter sounded so triumphant before he said, "Let's go grab dinner. We're free tonight from their hell temporarily."

His original plan was to watch the stream VOD while getting dinner but he missed his friend so he shut down the computer after a couple of moments, making sure everything was in check. "Okay, your treat."

Wonwoo wasn't a heavyweight per say, but he definitely could handle his alcohol. He was prepared to get even with Jihoon constantly teasing him about his parasocial boyfriend and he had to hold his tongue at the way he was watching him put on weight over the past couple of months and the amount of things he's done to those videos.

So, using his wallet to get drunk and eat whatever he wanted was payback enough. Jihoon rolled his eyes as Wonwoo got out of his car with a little difficulty, stumbling from the alcohol he drank and the food that he ate. "Maybe mukbangs were a bad influence because I don't think any person should have that much food in one sitting."

Wonwoo smiled as he stuck his tongue out, "Sucks. You offered to pay." Jihoon smiled as he muttered some curses, "Get upstairs safely!" He drove off after watching Wonwoo enter the building but in the lobby, it was really starting to hit him how much he drank.

He felt himself swaying before something supported him. It was large and sturdy. "Are you okay? You're not walking straight and I saw you almost fall while going to the elevator."

Wonwoo hummed in response, "Mm, I'm fine. Just had a lot to drink so thanks for ca-" The words got caught in his throat when his eyes focused and he saw the face that was staring at him.

"Kimgyu-" The words left his mouth before he could realize and both of them looked rather flustered by the admission so plainly. Wonwoo moved away, albeit somewhat shaky and Kimgyu saw the movement before moving back, his hand placed at Wonwoo's waist, "Sorry, I'm not used to being called that in real life. Just call me Mingyu and... let me help you up."

His fans were right because the puppy dog eyes that were pleading were near lethal to him at this moment in time as Wonwoo conceded, "Thanks." Mingyu's smile was wide as he moved Wonwoo's arm around his broad shoulders and supported him the whole way.

It was a difficult trip considering Wonwoo was going insane feeling the immense presence of the man next to him and the realization that they lived in the same building. He felt Mingyu's belly pressing into his side and saw it sway in his peripheral with each step they took and they ended up in the elevator.

Mingyu awkwardly chuckled, "Y'know, it doesn't hit me that people know me until they say my username but thank you for your support..." He trailed off, almost expectant before Wonwoo nearly facepalmed, "Ah, my name's Wonwoo. Sorry, I was..."

"Starstruck?" Mingyu's smile was charming which was doing no favours considering Wonwoo was oogling the body that was lingering a little close to him.

Wonwoo sighed, a smile on his face, "Trying not to fall." Mingyu looked flustered that his attempt at flirting fell through before Wonwoo added, "And maybe a little." He could practically see a tail wagging from behind the other man before the elevator arrived at his floor.

He was feeling a little better already because the shock helped him sober up but as the door open, Mingyu was ready to head to his floor before Wonwoo asked. "Did... you want to come to my apartment? I'm sure there's something I can share with you."

He stepped out in case the invitation was declined and Mingyu smiled as he followed, "I know all I do on stream is eat but you don't have to offer me food." His stomach gurgled as he flushed, "But, I wouldn't say no."

Wonwoo chuckled warmly as they entered his apartment.

Despite the first time meeting, it was easy to talk to Mingyu. Wonwoo even surprised himself by saying why he started watching his videos in the first place and Wonwoo looked amused as he looked at the other man sitting next to him on the couch.

"Woah, are you crying? It's not that sad though?"

"Hyung, stop teasing me! It just makes me happy that I could help..." A sniffle broke the silence before Wonwoo laughed warmly, patting Mingyu on the shoulder.

"It's fine! I've gotten to eat regularly... just like you have been." A gentle pat on Mingyu's stomach that pressed into his lap. It was more sinful in person as he looked at the result of months of indulgence on the other man. His muscle was still there but there was a majority of fat that rested on his body.

Mingyu looked at him with a different expression as he leaned in closer and Wonwoo was ready to receive that body pressing against his. Although he froze when he felt a hand on his stomach and squeezed it, now aware of the excess fat that was on his own body.

Mingyu stopped, almost concerned at the reaction while Wonwoo rebooted, "Is it alright?"

Wonwoo moved his hand to Mingyu's, now aware of the spread of his gut as he stated quietly, "I... didn't realize I had gotten so big."

Mingyu seemed to be taken aback by the statement before the same look in his eyes popped up as he asked, "Where's your bathroom?" Wonwoo pointed to the closed door as he was flustered from standing so quickly as Mingyu took him.

Taking him to the mirror, Wonwoo stood in front while Mingyu stood behind him, feeling his gut pressing against the curve of his back as he took in the sight.

Everything was making more sense now. Why he was eating longer during Mingyu's streams. Why he took longer in the shower while cleaning himself. Why the bottom of his stomach felt cold when brushing his teeth. Why the floors creaked if he walked quickly to get his take out that he ordered. Why he got out of breath when taking the stairs for his one day a week at work.

He had gotten fat. Mingyu's hands cupped his belly and he gasped, "Remember when I said I was looking at the guy who got bigger? I was talking about you, hyung." Lifting his belly, the sound of the clothed protruding body part echoed in the bathroom as Wonwoo whimpered.

"It was one thing that you didn't even know you were getting bigger but this? You even burst a button and didn't even know." Mingyu's hand slipped into the gap of his button down that he didn't notice until now. Did Jihoon notice when this happened? Is that why he looked at him funnily after he ordered more food? Was the proof of his gluttony somewhere in the restaurant they went to?

Mingyu's hands played with Wonwoo's fat body as he whimpered from the touch. "Hyung, I did this by choice." He brought Wonwoo's hands to his own belly as he groaned, feeling Mingyu press him against the counter with their combined weight.

"But you? You did this without even realizing. Look how massive you are everywhere." Mingyu's hands roamed around Wonwoo's body, making him more aware of the fat that bulged all over him. His moobs that rested on his gut. They were properly rivaling Mingyu's and he moaned when the other man squeezed them.

"You won't ever fit into this again." Mingyu pulled the button down apart, ripping the buttons off as they were freed from the strain of Wonwoo's fat body as he braced himself on the counter, so horny it was hard to stand up. His plump ass ground into Mingyu's crotch, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from him before he felt Mingyu's hands on his waist, sinking into the fat as his belly pressed onto Wonwoo's back, gurgling from the snacks that he had filled up on.

Wonwoo looked in the mirror and saw how much they had both blown up in the past couple of months as the apex of his belly felt cool from the counter it was squishing against, spilling nearly all over the sink area as Mingyu grinded his crotch into Wonwoo's wide ass.

It was hard to last long when realizing just how much he had blown up and all the praise Mingyu was feeding him. He was already stuffed full of food and memories of how much he had done it before, rubbing his gut not even aware of how much his computer chair creaked after each meal because it was starting to strain to hold Wonwoo's obese body. He felt Mingyu convulse as the cloth now sounded wet and Wonwoo felt himself release at the realization that Mingyu was so turned on by how fat he was and how he felt their combined weight with his awareness and the way Mingyu jiggled as he rode out his high.

Catching their breaths, Mingyu clutched Wonwoo's stomach as it got a shuddering sigh from the other man.

"So, should I expect a guest for my next mukbang?"

[choicesficwriterscreations]

September MC & OCs of the Month - Special Edition: Celia Moore

Help us in welcoming September's MCs and OCs of the month! That's right, plural! Most months, CFWC highlights one randomly selected MC or OC from our Meet My MC / OC List. (More info here.) But this month, we're doing something different.

In August, @lilyoffandoms hosted a Writers Appreciation Month, and we announced the September Writer of the Month would be selected from its participants. But all participants agreed - Lily deserved the honor! Still, we wanted to do something nice for the eleven writers who elected to participate to help uplift other writers in the fandom. So, this month, each of the eleven participants will have one of their MCs or OCs highlighted.

We will introduce each MC / OC individually, and once all eleven have been highlighted, a masterlist for the month will be created. We hope you enjoy getting to know all about them!

The ninth MC of the Month is @trappedinfanfiction 's Celia Moore!

Learn more about Celia below...

In your own words, tell us what you like most about your MC. 

It’s hard to say exactly what I like most about her, but probably her dedication. She doesn’t back down when things don’t go her way and will always do everything she can to do what she believes is right. She has worked hard to end up where she has, and she knows it; she won’t let the words of others destroy her own accomplishments. 

Do you feel your MC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

I feel like I put some of myself in every MC/OC I have, and Celia is no different. She might be the one that I am the most alike, but at the same time, she’s a lot different from me. Maybe a bit more like how I want to be. She’s passionate and not afraid to speak up if something is wrong and is willing to take risks to turn things in a better direction, especially in the medical world. She’s also a lot more social than me. While she enjoys her alone time and keeps a smaller circle of very close friends, she doesn’t really have a problem talking and getting to know new people. 

What is most important to your MC? What is their motivation in life?

The most important thing for Celia is the people around her, her family, friends and patients. They are her motivation. She wants them to have a good life and wants to help where she can. She hates where the medical world is heading, where money is becoming more important than what the people needs. As her influence in the medical world grows, she uses her privilege to work for a world where people don’t have to go into a life-time of debt just to get the help they need, and that no one should be turned away just because of their looks and identity. 

What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes? 

People who always think they know best because they googled something and generally rude/intolerant people. “Oh, you’re a woman? You have to be a nurse. Let me speak to a man.” is something she hears a lot, and it makes her blood boil.

If your MC could change one thing - anything - what would it be? 

If she could change the world, she would. She knows it’s impossible in reality, but through her work she knows she at least can help her patients. She will do her very best to give every single patient the help they need. Be it someone to talk to, or finding the right treatment.

What is your MC’s favorite quote or song? 

This one is so hard! I never have any idea when I am asked about music, because what I listen to isn’t necessarily what my MC/OCs would like and I honestly can’t even settle on my own favorites. However, I can see her liking Raleigh Carrera’s music.

Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC?

I never believed that I would ever post any of my writing, but Celia has been my door into sharing it. She has developed into her own character outside the MC I played as in Open Heart and I have had so much fun writing her story. She was my escape during the pandemic and I have gotten so many friends in the fandom because of her. Some have left, and some are still here, and I am grateful for every single one. I never believed what was supposed to be a small drabble would lead to where things are now.

[confused-n-queer]

So a video about Beastars gave me feelings

I just came back to this video about a year after having first watched it simply because it was in my recommended feed and I needed something to listen to and well I have left with a new litmus test for my internal growth. I feel how much my connection to the story being woven my both the creator of the video and the author of Beastars has changed in only one year. I have struggled a lot with my own sexuality gender and overall sense of self throughout my life and am only now feeling the chapter on my adolescence come to a close. When I first saw this video and read the manga I identified very strongly with Haru. Her perceived weakness as a rabbit mirrored my own having grown up as a short,unusually skinny girl with undressed health issues. I was often mad and unable to express it since my anger was seen as cute, nonthreatening, and pathetic. Any attempts at my beliefs or anger being taken seriously and being seen as an equal to my peers was met with jokes and threats. Haru's tough abrasive nature towards people she perceives as a potential threat is a defense mechanism I shared with her. I like many girls has been subjected to both what I would call aggressive sexualization, sexulization through direct comments about our clothing, bodies and behaviors as well as leering, cat-calling and all the other various degrees of sexual assault I don't wish to discuss and what I would call passive sexuialization which is the everyday messaging we received from family peers and media, aka everything from your mom telling you to put on a shirt and cover up long before you had breasts to the comments made by aunts about how "slutty" a girl walking down the street looked. My response to this was repressing my desires burring my longing to be a confident sexual being. To bury my desire to wear the short shorts and skirts and bra-less styles of the early 00's I saw modeled on my dolls and a few older girls. I wanted to be like Haru, or at least posses the sexual freedom and confidence people believe she has. Instead I felt I had to hide my burgeoning sexuality behind a screen. Instead of healthy experimentation with my peers I was introduced to sex through men far older than me online because I knew romance,dating and sex was "wrong" and "not something a girl my age thought about". So I hid full of shame so strong it nearly led me to end my own life. The craziest part, I wasn't raised in an exceptionally conservative home. My family was pretty normal, hell I was given books about puberty and was told, once, after years of pestering (something I never did as I was, in retrospect and due to trauma, a disturbingly obedient child something I'll touch on later) what sex was and was sort of permitted to learn about sex from a scientific perspective. It wasn't until my freshman year of collage that I began to unlearn all of my shame and allow myself to be and accept myself as a sexual being, you know the thing I should've been allowed to do and that most people do while going through puberty. I joined a production of RHPS and drove over an hour to the main campus and back every week to rehearse for a show where being sexual was a given, and where the words that had been embedded into my chest were shouted without malice. It was a place where "slut" and "queer" weren't dirty they just were. I had my first kiss a few months before my 19th birthday with a girl who was so kind to me and who treated me with such sincere affection and respect that I as I write this am left sobbing thinking of all she did for me. I wish I could reach out to thank her without it being weird or potentially harmful since we haven't talked since the pandemic forced a weird mutual ghosting breakup a few months into our relationship and I don't know her current situation.

I was also always "playing nurse" (of both the standard and psych-ward variety) for friends,family and strangers due to trauma and my ability to do so like Haru but in the words of John Mulany "We don't have time to unpack all of that." so I'll leave it at that.

This time around I related to Legoshi so much it hurt. My struggles in the past year or so have been much more focused on my liberation as an adult, to be myself, to learn who I am, to move freely and to demand respect for myself and others. Which of course means the issues around my gender and sexuality (but mainly my gender) came back with a vengeance so the queerness of Legoshi et all hit very hard. The past year has been an odd meeting of my old self destructive habits meeting new healthier ones.

On the bad side I had al breakdown, multiple depressive episodes, stressed myself to the point of worsening a tic disorder i didn't know i had, neglected my health, fed into my eating disorders as well as my internalized ableism, homophobia and transphobia.

On the good side I attended concerts alone and with friends, decorated my room for the first time, bought sex toys, went on dates, dressed how I wanted to, dyed and shaved my hair without asking for permission (which was extra important since my hair was the one feature I was never allowed to mess with), and worked hard to fight my body issues and eating disorders which I'm happy to say as of right now I looked into the mirror for the first time in 10 years and liked my reflection despite my body dysmorphia. All things my therapist had to give me permission to do because, like Legoshi and all the other canines in the series I was made, through my natural disposition and a dash of abuse, to be obedient to my own detriment. I'm not joking when I say the whole " a canine told to wait will wait until it dies" section is accompanying me to therapy this week and is joining my "therapeutic media metaphors I use to describe my traumas,feelings and behaviors to other people" folder.

So...yeah...people change and this video was and will probably remain a very important part of my life.

Edit: Adding onto this but also like coming back to this video as someone who's currently educating themselves on queerness after years of feeling like "ah yes I understand myself and my own sexuality and gender. This is fascinating anyways. Perhaps I'll read this manga as a cathartic work to analyze but not really dig into because I don't need to do that right now/that's not the purpose it serves right now. It serves the purpose of allowing myself to confront other stuff and like a thing despite it's stigma as weird furry shit because people can't understand the merits of using non human characters to explore human topis including sex without getting all weird"

[acesofspadess]

Endless Love

a/n: for all my niall girlies... here is a little short story series ill be updating everyday. Its 7-8 parts. Make sure to click on the links as you go so you can visuals while reading.

pairing: Niall Horan x reader (she's mixed between Irish and Caribbean but its only mentioned a handful of times.)

summary: Being on The Voice had become a quick dream of yours, and now that you were finally here... lets just say you were in for a crazy ride.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't believe you were actually here. The Voice. You had always had a passion for singing and it definitely took you places. 

Put your hands together for Bleu Wilson

Hi my name is Bleu Wilson, I'm 20 years old and I’m from Mullingar, Ireland but now live in Los Angeles California. 

Growing up in Mullingar is something I cherish very much. My family is from two different parts of the world but they found a way to make Mullingar a mix of both worlds which I'm very thankful for. 

Having both sides of my family in one home felt like a party every night. You were taught something different from each side whether it be a Caribbean dish or the best way to drink a guinness. It was a madhouse.

From a very young age I was always writing music and using my nan’s pots to make music. When the pandemic came around it hit my family pretty hard. I decided to start singing online and making money from that, which helped me get noticed by someone who I never would have thought would notice me.” you showed the camera a few pictures of  you Harry Styles at different events like Coachella and some of his residency shows. He was definitely one of your best friends.  “But he's part of the reason I'm here today.”

~~~~~~~~~

“For my blind audition today I will be singing Black and White by thee Niall Horan. Having a chair turn for me will be something that can really solidify where I should be. I want to prove that I'm where I should be because of me.”

Next artist is coming in now

You walked on stage with nerves in your fingertips as you sat down with your guitar. You waited for the first beats of the song to play as that was your marker.

“Is this my song?” Niall asked down the line. 

That first night, we were standin' at your door

Fumblin' for your keys, then I kissed you

Ask me if I wanna come inside

'Cause we didn't wanna end the night

Then you took my hand and I followed you

‘Is she playing the guitar?.” Kelly whispered down to the judges.

Yeah, I see us in black and white

Crystal clear on a starlit night

In all your gorgeous colours

The rasp and power in your voice on this line was your favourite and Kelly, Chance, and Blake turned.

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

See you standin' in your dress

Swear in front of all our friends

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

You were a bit sad Niall hadn’t turned yet but you still had one more verse to power through

I want the world to witness

When we finally say, "I do"

It's the way you love

I gotta give it back to you

I can't promise picket fences

Or sunny afternoons

But, at night when I close my eyes

Niall finally turned and you felt all the adrenaline skyrocket as you saw his face filled with so much amazement.

The track died down a bit and you were thankful that you were confident in guitar skills because you were sure you would have forgotten everything when Niall looked at you

I see us in black and white

Crystal clear on a starlit night

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love ya

I see us in black and white

When the track picked back up everyone cheered loudly and couldn't help the smile that made its way onto your face.

Crystal clear on a starlit night

In all your gorgeous colours

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

See you standin' in your dress

Swear in front of all our friends

There'll never be another

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

The track stopped and it was just you and the guitar.

And there'll never be another

I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life

When you strummed the last note you bowed down in thanks as you saw Niall egg the crowd on for more applause. You laughed shyly as Kelly smacked her hands against the buzzer table in front of her. “That was a bold move, girl. It was amazing.” 

The audience cheered as you smiled bashfully. “Thank you so much.” your irish accent threw some people off. There was a mutual gasp and some noises of ‘no way’. Chance decided to step up and calm everyone down. “Wasn't expecting that. What's your name where you from?”  

“My name is Bleu Wilson, I'm 20, and I am from Mulliingar, Ireland but I now live here in L.A..” You heard everyone cheer and Niall stand up in his chair and clap loudly. “Hi love.” Niall spoke softly seeing as you hadn't taken your eyes off him. “Hi NIall.” you giggle shyly and Kelly and Chance awed. 

 “Hold on sec,” You turned to Blake who was trying to push Niall back into his seat. “You're 20?” you laughed and nodded. He shook his head with a soft ‘wow’. 

“You are so talented. That is amazing.” Chance complimented. “I'm Irish and Caribbean, it's in my blood.” Niall laughed and clapped again. 

“You have a very full voice, but it is still very soft.” Chance continued. “Yeah it floats,” he agreed with Kelly. “I couldn't have pushed my button fast enough after you started singing. You are going to do great things in this competition. Welcome to The Voice.” you thanked him as Kelly spoke up,

“I don't know if you noticed but I was the first to push my button. Not Niall!” you pointed at her in acknowledgement with a shy laugh. “I love that song so much. I love that you've taken this song and made it your own. I can see you going to so many more places and I think that I would be an amazing coach for you.” you thanked her again as Niall was getting ready to speak up but Blake cut him off. 

“Hold on there Irish boy.” Everyone laughed including Niall who had the biggest smile on his face. “I don't usually turn for people who don't really sing country but I heard you so in the pocket and knew you were playing the guitar and I would love to have you on my team and win on my very last season.” you heard the other three judges groan at his used up line. You thanked him and looked at Niall as he finally got the chance to speak.

He waved with a big smile and you could melt on the spot. He was everything you dreamed of and more. “Hi. Would you like to be on my team?” he joked. “The fact that you picked that song shows that your standards are up here.” he gestured with his hand above his head. “Way to brag to Niall.” Kelly shouted down the line. “No, I mean like brave wise.” he laughed shyly, “how many people do you see come up here and sing one of the judges' songs to their face.” 

 “You can go all the way.” he continued. “There's an already made star in there. You've got this- got this Irish confidence in you.” Everyone laughed at his joke. “You're my neighbour.” you laughed with a head nod. 

“You're not afraid to take a risk, and I'm telling you on team Niall, we’re gonna be risking every week.” you laughed at his sway with every syllable. “I write my own stuff sometimes with some of the greatest producers and songwriters of our time. Lining them up, I already have it. We’ll talk about it afterwards when you're on my team.” Everyone laughed again before Niall spoke up again.

“Bleu, I love you already and I can feel a connection. Please don't pick Kelly.” he said sadly while taking a sip of water. You swore you died on the spot.

“I'm just gonna add,” Chance started. “I'd love to have you on my team as well.” you smiled at him in thanks. 

“Bleu,” Blake got your attention. “Who do you pick as your coach?” you covered your eyes with your face letting out a deep breath. “I walked in here with no expectations of what would happen or who I would pick. And I want to say thank you to each one of you. You've all been very important role models in my life, but I'm going to have to go with the person who influenced me most.” you let out a shaky breath as you watched Niall shrink into himself. “I'm going with what home I already chose.” you heard Blake’s ‘oh?’  

“Which is my friendly neighbour,” you saw Niall get the hidden message and start to stand up. “I choose Niall.”  

‘Diana’ played on the speakers as the room went up in cheers and Niall waved you down stage with open arms. He hugged your waist picking you up off the ground a little bit and you laughed together. “You are amazing.” he whispered in your ear. When he let you down he walked you back down to where Carson was. “Thank you so much Niall.” you said as he gave you one last hug. 

“The country is gonna fall in love with this lady.” he said, bowing down to you. You laughed with the hoodie scrunched into your face as he walked away.

Niall danced up the stairs back to his seat. “I am so happy for you.” Kelly told him. When the chairs turned around Kelly laughed again. “That was some hug Niall.” she teased. Niall just sank into his chair as the lights turned off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

nbcthevoice

nbcthevoice please welcome Bleu Wilson to Team Niall!

User3 did anyone see the way he hugged her

User9 or the way they stared at each other the whole time

User6 chill out they were just happy

User2 i ship it

~~~~~~~~~

Niall Taglist:

@youcan-nolonger-run @ravenclawdirectioner

@luxiorchive @maeflowers653