#I was meant to sit alone in a room and do my own thing honestly that's what life keeps signaling to me

[leehslvr]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Kismet

── kismet. When you encounter something by chance that seems like it was meant to be, then it could be kismet, your destiny.

or ── Your solo trip to Barcelona was may more than what you expected after meeting a kind stranger on the plane and spending the whole duration of your tour with him.

pair ⟢ art student!jay x fem law student!reader

wc ⟢ 10.9k

genres/tropes/disclaimers ⟢ fluff, one shot, angst(?), strangers to lovers, meet cute, mentions of Sunghoon, Karina (aespa), and Wonyoung (IVE), very slight jangkku but nothing major

{let me know if I've missed anything}

authors note ⟢ I am not from Barcelona, nor Madrid so if I get anything wrong please let me know. Also I hope my memory and research serves me right about the history parts included in all of these. + this is a veeery old story I had and just rewrote it but i hope you enjoy!

You have never really imagined yourself leaving your house with a carrier in your hand and your mom's shower of kisses, going to the airport, ready to board a plane headed straight for Barcelona, all on your own for a good 3 days of your summer vacation. A solo trip has been on your list of things to do before you turn 30 ever since you were in high school. Growing up, you've always dreamt of going to another country without your parents dragging you to gift shops after gift shops while all you just wanted to do was to go to the beach or to see their local museum.

And now, all of those long-awaited dreams are finally coming true. It took a while to convince your mom to let you travel alone since she's always been so strict. She kept on asking why would you insist on doing that and why don't you want to take the family with you. But after begging her to let you do it on your own because you want to use this opportunity so you can enjoy some alone time and independence, she finally gave you her permission, but only for 3 days, and with your own money —a deal that was more than enough for you.  At surface level it may sound a bit suffocating having your parents know every plan you wish to do, but you know that she means well. Your mom has always restricted you on a lot of things, but if she sees that it makes her children happy then she does her best to keep her worries aside and just let them do the things that they want (with the exception of anything illegal that it; she wouldn't let you see the next day). 

I took you more than two whole semesters of working part time at the local bakery and fighting the urge to buy every cute new shirt on display in order to earn enough from your paycheck to buy a plane ticket and save up enough pocket money before you can finally get to your dream vacation. 

Everything was going well, there was no traffic on the way to the airport, the flight didn't get delayed, you were now on your second plane after the layover, the sky was clear, you got a window seat, and you had enough leg room. The only thing that bothered you was the fact that the man sitting next to you doesn't seem to value your personal space.

It's been the 5th time since departure that he kept on placing his head on your shoulder every time he decides to take a nap. All efforts of freeing your shoulder of this unknown man were put to waste whenever he keeps putting them back. You're a person that usually understands these kinds of situations, but god it was getting annoying. A man, seated in an aisle away from yours, seemed to notice your struggle. He was quiet but he kept side glancing at what was happening.

Park Jongseong (or as his close friends like to call him as Jay) heard the person seated across him let out a sigh every time the old geezer unknowingly placed his head on her shoulder. He saw the discomfort on your face and all your efforts to get him off of you. 

It was honestly painful to watch. 

He keeps seeing this young girl push the head of the stranger but then it keeps happening again and again.

And now, for the sixth time that it happened, you just decided to politely tell the man that you were getting uncomfortable, when he woke up he apologized and tried to fight off his drowsiness. 

Guilt suddenly crept up your nerves thinking that this middle aged man couldn't even get some rest because you felt uneasy. Staring out of the window to avoid any more awkward encounters, when suddenly Jay broke the quiet air. "Excuse me sir, could we perhaps switch seats? I need to ask my friend about something and I wouldn't want to be rude by talking to her while you're in the middle."

You averted your gaze from the window to the guy who was now standing up to gather his things. (Much to your surprise that is. Was he that tired to just let a random dude give him orders to switch places?)

A young man (who, based on his looks, was the same age as you) took the old man’s place; who now was resting quietly in his new seat.

You looked at the new stranger seated beside you and quietly observed his features. He had a high bridge nose, his lips were full and plump, his eyebrows were dark and he had a striking jawline to compliment them. His jet black hair seemed to match his tanned skin.

He looked at you and gave you a small smile.

Should I say thank you? You thought to yourself

You kept looking at him, with no expression on your face. Jongseong’s smile started to change into an awkward one, not really knowing what to do at this point. To him, he just wanted to do something nice for the girl who looked like was about to burst out at any given moment. But now, you're giving him a blank look and a quiet atmosphere that made him feel like he did something that bothered you even more.

"Uhm...thank you" You whispered.

With those words, his smile returned to his face. "No problem, I saw you struggle there for a bit. It'd be really tiring if you had to do that for the whole flight" He said to you in a hushed voice, being careful not to be heard. 

“Well thankfully I wouldn’t have to experience that. It’s nice of you” You hushed back, removing your gaze off of him and back to the window of clouds and blue skies.

___

More than 5 hours had passed and the plane was still in the air. 

After getting some shut eye, you're starting to feel numbness as you sit through the whole flight dozing off or watching a series. You and the stranger seated next to you haven't had a conversation since he switched seats with the other man. The only exchange you had after that was when you had to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. 

You weren't really one for conversation. You've always had trouble starting conversations with people, and you struggled to keep them going. And seeing that you were either too busy sleeping or crying over another episode of the drama that you were watching, the handsome boy didn't seem to bother to talk to you either.

You were onto the last few episodes and things were starting to get very emotional and being the type of person that gets their emotions attached to these kinds of dramas, you unfortunately couldn't control the tears that escaped from your eyes; in a place like this, besides a cute guy who was probably judging you right now.

Jay thought it was cute though; How this girl beside him reacted to every scene that she was watching. He doesn't even know if she was aware that he heard her gasp when one of the main character's secrets were revealed, or how she started smiling when the leads kissed. Now, she's been shedding tears and she was desperately trying to hide it.

While trying to cover your face with your hands by wiping the tears that fell on your cheek, you suddenly felt a tap on your shoulder, only to be met with a pack of tissues. You looked at the stranger (whose name you still don't know), and the tissues he was holding out.

"These might help" He smiled at you once again and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You hesitated to grab them. His hand was still reaching out and he continued by saying "Take one, I completely understand. Episode 16 was the worst"

With the small piece of dignity you had left, you took a piece, quickly thanked him, and returned to your screen. You can see from the corner of your eye that he let out a small laugh.

Great. He must think I'm a total weirdo.

After finishing the last episode, and milking your eyes out, You have finally decided to take a rest from watching. Jay looked at you and gave you a thumbs up, non-vocally asking you if you were okay.

Letting out a small laugh, you looked at your feet before speaking.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that" You told him in a hushed voice while trying to avoid eye contact. "It's fine, I couldn't stop crying myself when I finished the drama"

Deciding to try and have a good conversation with the nice guy, you finally looked back at him. "So are you traveling alone?" You asked him.

"Yeah, I've always wanted to go to Barcelona. They say their beaches are the best, and could make you speechless and I want to see it for myself" He excitedly told you. 

"Is it your first time to travel alone?" 

"Not really. This would be my third time" You nodded and told him how lucky he is that he got to do it often.

"How about you?" He asked you back. "Is it your first solo trip?"

You said yes by slowly nodding your head. "I'm really nervous if I have to be honest. My mom usually plans our trips. I don't even know what I would do If I got lost. I didn't even get a tour guide, because that wouldn't fit my budget." You start talking while playing with your fingers.

"It's going to be fun. Don't worry too much. If something bad happens, then it happens. You could miss out on so many great things if you begin to worry."

He gave out another smile. Something that is weirdly comforting from a stranger. 

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now approaching Barcelona where the local time is 1:00 PM. Please be in your seat with your seatbelt firmly fastened...."

With the sound of the speakers telling everyone to prepare for landing, the conversation was immediately cut off. You went to check if your seatbelt was fastened and if the seat tables were stowed away properly. Your phone was turned off so you didn't have to worry about it. You've always hated take offs and landing. The ear clogging is painful and irritating. Just as you were about to prepare for ringing in your ears, the guy beside you started to pass you something again. 

This time it was chewing gum.

"Do you want some? I chew on them it so my ears won't hurt during landing"

How does he seem to have a solution for everything I go through?

You grabbed the gum and thanked him before you could even hear the insufferable ear popping. 

When you felt the plane land and when the cabin crews finally announced your arrival, you stood up quickly feeling the numbness in your legs that you have to pray to the gods that you wouldn't stumble over and make a fool out of yourself. 

When you've finally got a hold of all your carry-ons, you prepared yourself to head out of the plane doors but before you did, saying thank you to the kind stranger who treated you well wouldn’t hurt. 

But as you turn around in search of the striking set of eyes and beautiful tanned skin, he was nowhere to be found

Your eyes scanned what was left of the plane but only a few people were there, and none were of him. 

I guess that was it. I never even got his name.

When the Barcelona air had hit your face and the unfamiliar landscape had come into your view, you've finally realized something; you're going to be doing this on your own now. No parents. No siblings. No tour guide. Not even a kind stranger to help you sort things out.

It's just you, alone, ready to take on an adventure that you've waited for so long.

___

You were lucky to get a great hotel at the heart of the Gothic Quarter, located just near the cathedral. It was summer and a lot of families were on vacation so you worried whether you'd be getting a good place to stay without having to pull out any more money than you've already had. Luckily for you, one of the hotels with good reviews that offers a cheap price had a room fitted enough for your liking and budget.

After setting down your things in the room, you decided to give the place a tour. The walls were painted white and they were accented with wood to fit the classy mood. There was a huge sliding window that connected the room and a small balcony that gives you a great view of the skyline. The room was small so there really wasn't much to look at. It was your typical summer hotel room but you couldn't complain. You were just glad you got here. You decided to go outside and take a look at the whole building before you decide to tour Barcelona. Grabbing your camera, you headed outside on the way to their lobby.

It was crowded, a lot of families were already here. Some were lounging on the couch and the children were running around. The staff was busy but they still accommodated their guests well. You decided to ask them for more inclusions and fair enough, you were pretty satisfied. They served a breakfast buffet and a rooftop pool. Although most hotels have that now, you still couldn't hide your smile.

It was time that you decided to go tour the city, starting with the cathedral that was a few blocks from my accommodation. A lot of people have said that the Barcelona Cathedral was something everyone must see in their lifetime. And there was no denying how amazing it was. With its gothic architecture and tall structures, you would’ve beat yourself up if you missed the chance to witness it.

You quickly took out your camera and started snapping pictures. Growing up loving the arts, you have always appreciated these kinds of things. The way the building was structured had you at awe. Photos wouldn't capture its beauty. You decided to go closer when you heard a deep voice behind you.

"Excuse me, could I take a picture?" 

You turned around, surprised by the voice, but what surprised you more was who owned it.

It was him. The kind stranger that sat beside you on the plane. He was holding his camera that was hanging from his neck. He gave you a smile once again and a wave of his hand as if to say hello. "Either this is a coincidence or fate just wants us together”.

"What are you doing here?" You asked with surprise and confusion written on your face. "I mean, I did tell you I'm here on vacation right?" He said as if it was obvious.

Of course he is, why would I even ask that.

"I'm sorry I scared you." He apologized while giving a worried smile. 

"No, don't worry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Just a bit surprised, that's all"

It really was a surprise. Even Jay questioned whether it was her or not. 

He just got to the cathedral when he saw her standing in the middle with her looking through her viewfinder. He didn't believe it at first but after getting a good look, he knew it was her. 

Then it felt awkward. There were hundreds of people and cars making noise around but the silence between the two of you was deafening. 

To avoid the atmosphere you decided to just look through the photos on your camera. Until he spoke again. 

"Do you want to check the inside?"

Without hesitation, you nodded your head since that was what you were planning to do before he arrived.

And so two pairs of feet led the both of you inside the infamous gothic church. The stranger was standing beside you making it seem like the both of you arrived together on purpose. People who don't know any better  would think that the both of you are on this trip as a couple on their honeymoon (not that you would want people to think that).

It's either he must really respect your space or he was just as fascinated as you as he decided to not hold a conversation after entering the wide doors. Jongseong quickly took notice of the fact that you took your time to admire the interior of the cathedral. After looking at the beautiful ceiling he glanced at your amazed expression and involuntarily let out a small smile that even he wasn't aware of. 

As you took your time looking up at the sculpted pillars and the intricate details of the altars and pews that were lit with a golden tint, mixed with the natural light that came from the stained glass windows, the mysterious man started talking again. 

"Its other name is The Cathedral of the Holy Rosary and Saint Eulalia"

Looking from the altar to his face that the natural lighting perfectly captured, you waited for him to continue what he was saying, intriguing your curious and hungry mind. He was looking away from your gaze as he went on with what he had to say. "Most people know the place as the Barcelona Cathedral while locals like to call it La Seu."

After his explanation, he looked back at you and met with your eyes and went back to his discussion. "They named it after Saint Eulalia. She was a martyr. Was only 13 at the time that she was murdered by Roman soldiers. Poor soul was even tortured before her death. 13 different times specifically."

"Why'd they murder her?" You asked back, curious as to what happened. 

"They said that she didn't want to renounce her Christianity when everyone was told to do so" His voice trailed off. He placed his hands inside the pockets of his coat and rocked on his heel. "I think it's admirable how she stuck to what she believed in despite other people telling her otherwise."

You thought to yourself, this man was really full of surprises. You came to this country hoping to learn something new but you never thought that it would be from a boy you met on the plane. "I guess you've done your research before coming here" You stated.

"I've read them somewhere. Stuff like these have always piqued my interest. Churches, paintings, sculptures, you name it."

"Art student?" You asked him with a raised brow. 

"Was I too obvious?" He replied with a smirk. The both of you started to let out a small laugh while unintentionally synchronizing as you both stared at your feet. 

"How about you?" Confused as to what he meant, you stared up at him with both brows raised. "Art student?" With a sad smile you shook your head left and right slowly. "Uhm...no. Legal management actually" He hummed and nodded at the same time in response. 

"Lawyer?" He asked again. "I hope so". Jongseong seemed to notice the way you reacted but didn't dwell too much as to why. He just decided to switch back to your previous topic. "Well attorney, the locals also said that their cloister is also a must-see" His deep voice enthusiastically mentioned letting go of your previous conversation. "Then we should"

The both of you walk down the path on the way to the open-aired garden. At the heart of it was a beautiful sunbathed oasis that housed geese. Holding out your camera, you looked through the viewfinder to get a perfect shot of the scenery. Adjusting the zoom, aperture, and the angle in order to capture all of its beauty.

To your right, unknown to you, Jongseong was taking his own pictures. Not of the scenery. But of the person who captured his attention.

__

Your mom would pull out every strand of her hair all at once if she ever finds out that her daughter is roaming a foreign city with a man she just met. 

You're honestly surprised that you aren't kicking your ass for something that could possibly be so dangerous. For all you know, this man could have been a serial killer or your stalker that had finally cornered you in a place that you know nothing of. 

But alas, here you are heading for a small bookshop on the corner of La Rambla, Barcelona, because the both of you have found out that you enjoy the aura of bookstores. 

You don't really understand it yourself as to why you would agree to let this man take you there without even knowing his name. However, something about him made you rely on him. His cold exterior was washed over by his warm and kind personality that you just couldn't help but see him as someone you could depend upon.

Known by a lot of people, you love reading. A small space at your home was dedicated to a shelf of all of the novels that you have read all throughout your reading journey. So when your strange new friend mentioned that he saw an antique bookshop on the way to the Cathedral, you did not hesitate to let him take you there. 

The beautiful tree-lined pedestrian street of La Rambla was filled with people — tourists and locals. The streets were crowded and you made sure to look over your stuff in case there were any pickpockets. Your new friend decided that he should walk a step behind you to keep you safe.

Taking a short turn, your eyes have finally met with a bookshop that had an antique housing to compliment its aesthetic. You stared up at him to confirm whether this was the place that he was referring to. He nodded and held out his arms which meant that you should go in first.

You opened the doors to the bookstore and you were quickly met with an array of books and novels lined up on wooden shelves with a number of rows. The inside was incredibly quaint and you hoped to the gods that you could find a good book in English without having to spend hours looking through all of them. 

You weren't the only one fascinated with what you saw. You looked at the person beside you to see that he had his mouth open and his eyes fixated on the rows of shelves that lined up inside the antique bookshop.

The both of you wasted no time looking through the number of books. Your eyes quickly scan the shelves for a nice read. The titles were filled with different genres and languages. Fiction, travel guides, biographies, classics, history memoirs. It was every bibliophile's dream. You weren't really sure what you were looking for to begin with.

Should I get a Jane Austen novel? Or maybe a memoir on Princess Diana? A dystopian book? A different version of your Percy Jackson books that you have on your shelf? Or maybe just get another law book for one of your legal management classes to get it over with. 

You thought to yourself as you looked through the pages of every novel that your hands could pick up. You decided to look through the shop when you finally caught the sight of your companion. He had his back turned as he was looking through a book over at one section of the shop. Arts section. You should've known.

You decided to take a look at this section yourself. As you approached his figure, Jongseong turned around sensing yours. You waited until you approached him before speaking. "Found something you like?"

He nodded his head yes as he showed you what book he wanted to buy. A memoir on Michaelangelo. "How about you?" This time, he asked you. You nodded your head no with a sad smile. "I don't even know what I'm looking for"

"Well, what do you like?" He asked again. 

"What inspires you?"

"Uhm....I don't know. Politics? Maybe I could read about the policies around he-" You weren't even able to finish your sentence because you were cut off with his deep voice. Jay knew that tone and expression. That voice didn't show genuine love for what you were talking about.

"What do you honestly like?" Not believing your excuse, he asked again.

You took a few seconds to answer his question. "I like photography".

He raised his eyebrows at you. His body was now facing yours and his eyes were intently looking at your face while listening closely to what you have to say. "I've always liked photography. When my mom bought me my camera, I wouldn't let go of it and just take photos of everything. I've only tried landscapes because that was the only thing I could start with. I've wanted to do portraits but I don't have enough ideas on how to do it. Plus, my major doesn't really give me the time to practice."

Jay saw the twinkle in your eyes as you talked about your love for the art form. "Then it's settled. Let's get you a book on that one"

Without even realizing it, he was soon dragging you all across the bookshop trying to look for the perfect book to take home.

And somehow, someway, after buying yourself a book on the art of photography, you and your companion found yourselves having dinner at one of the restaurants you found down the street. The both of you have decided to try tapas. 

You didn't know when, but the awkward atmosphere that the both of you had when you first met was replaced with comfort and a light air. 

Despite not knowing each other's names, you talked as if you're old friends that were catching up with one another after not seeing each other for years. While waiting for the order to arrive, the both of you started discussing what other places you plan to go to during your stay.

"There's this place I saw online. I was planning to go there. But it's getting late, I think it'd be better if I go there when the sun is still out" You said to the young man that was sitting across from you. "What's it called?" He asked.

"Uhm it's a park. I think it's called Ciutadella? Ciutadella Park?" You told him not really sure if your pronunciation was correct. 

His eyes immediately widened, signalling that he knew what you were talking about. "I was planning to go there too! They have this amazing cascada inside the park. It’s near The Sagrada Familia if you want to check that out too. " He told you with an excited tone. You smiled at his reaction.

Suddenly, you wondered whether the both of you would be going together just like what you did today. You thought about if it was a good thing to ask him that because you didn't want to seem like you have attached yourself already with your travel partner and that you would want to tour the city with him again tomorrow. It was silly to be honest. Why would I want to go sightseeing with this man when the only thing I know about him is his face and his love for art? You realized that you were still in mid conversation and that it was rude to just go quiet all of the sudden.

"I was planning to practice taking pictures once I got there" You said to him. Your fingers were playing with the utensils you had in front of you. While slightly tapping on the wooden table, Jay replied. "That's great then. I guess we should go there early so you have enough natural light."

We? Is he really implying that we should go together?

He looked at your face and saw that your expression was mixed with both confusion and surprise. Your head was slightly tilted like a lost puppy, your mouth was slightly ajar, and your eyebrows were raised. He started questioning whether he said the right words. Did he come off as too adherent?

"You want us to go together?" He was caught off guard when you asked him. Not knowing the right words to say, he stammered. "I mean...if you want to...I'm not forcing you, it's just...I mean, we are going to the same place, so why don't we go together?"

His voice was hanging in the air. The only sounds that you two heard were the cluttering of utensils, other customers talking, and the background music that the restaurant provided. You noticed his eyes shaking trying to avoid your eyes. Then, you let out a giggle.

"Sure" You said.

His eyes finally met with yours the instant you said that word. "Oh God, I thought you would think I'm a creep" With his words you started to laugh. "You kind of are" You joked while telling him with a smile. Jay played along, letting out an exaggerated gasp while his right hand found his chest. "I feel offended"

You were still laughing at his silly expression when you continued talking "To be honest, you wanted to sit with me during the plane ride and now you decide to come up to me at the cathedral. I think that calls for a creep" He smiled at your smug expression as you talked. "I only did it because it was painful to watch. You kept frowning every five minutes" He fired back. Jay gave an equally smug look and now it was your turn to react. "Was it really painful to watch?" He started laughing, showing you his smile.

Soon your laughter started to die down. The air between the two of you was silent again, but in a comforting way. 

Epiphany hits you after your discussion on how the both of you met. You never got to say thank you properly. When you turned around to say your gratitude, you went looking for him, only to see that he was gone. Not losing the opportunity again, you decided to tell him now.

"Thank you, by the way" He looked up at you when you said those words.

He was silent and didn't say anything so you decided to explain further. "For what you did on the plane. Switching seats, the tissue — as embarrassing as that was, the chewing gum. You didn't even know me but you decided to help. So....Thank you"

A smile slowly started to form across Jay’s face. He saw your shy demeanor as you said your gratitude towards him which made his heart flutter. "You're welcome," He replied.

"It's strange how we just met and you start treating me like a friend but you did it anyway. I mean, look at us, we don't even know each other's names and-" Your blabbering was cut off with his deep voice.

"Jongseong. Or Jay if you prefer." He replied. "That's my name"

“Y/N. Nice to meet you”

__

You were pretty satisfied that your day had ended with you putting a name to that stranger's face.

Jay.

Ever since you told each other your names, they pretty much rolled off the tongue. After dinner both of you really had nothing left to do except enjoy the Barcelona night sky. Jay talked to you throughout the evening. He told you how he got into art and why he loves it so much. From his story, you clearly tell that it was something he was passionate about. It basically ran through his entire body.

But just when I thought that nothing could beat his love for painting, Jay couldn't help himself as he told you about his friends back home. He even took the time to pull out a photo of them that he had on his wallet to show you. With the way he smiled while he told you all of his favorite memories of them together, it was clear that he really valued them.

Of course, you had to share stories as well. It would be really unfair on his part if he did all the talking.

So you told him how your major wasn't even your first choice. You've wanted to take up photography or film as your degree. But remembering how you felt like you had to repay your parents for everything that they had done, you decided to take up a pre-law course so you can follow in the footsteps of your father. 

You had to admit that you didn't enjoy it at first but you grew to love it. The idea of switching majors still pops up once in a while but you've always told yourself that you could still do photography even with a PhD.

His words still rang in your head after you told him your story.

"You shouldn't do things to make other people proud. You have to make yourself proud"

Jay finally understood all those sad smiles everytime that topic was brought about. Sure, he felt sorry for her and wanted to tell her to switch if photography was what made her truly happy but he decided that he shouldn't. He wanted to respect your decision, knowing that he didn't have control over her life.

He walked you back to your hotel which was only a few blocks away from his. Before saying good night and "see you again", he promised to wait for you outside of your hotel tomorrow at 8:00 AM so the both of you could go to the Ciutadella Park and the Basilica together.

It was silly how quickly you had trusted this man to join you while you toured around the city but that was nearly impossible not to do with his charming personality.

Jay couldn't believe it himself that he was able to build a friendship (if that's what you called it) through this trip. It's usually just him traveling alone or traveling with friends but never with a woman he just found out the name of.

And so the night goes. Neither of them could sleep properly because of jetlag. You also had to remind yourself to update your parents because they might be going crazy at this point. Of course, you didn't tell them about Jay. They would flip. You thought that it'd be better if you kept this to the both of you. 

__

The alarm that you've set the previous night rang to tell you that it was time to get ready for day 2 of your formerly called solo trip in Barcelona.

To say that you felt giddy to finally have to spend the whole entire day traveling the city was an understatement. You want to believe that it was because yesterday's flight tired you out that you haven't comprehended the thought that you are strolling the city but if you were trying to be honest enough, it was probably because your thoughts were filled with the art-loving and soft hearted boy that accompanied you.

Now, after getting ready to go out, you decided to go down to the hotel lobby as Jay said he will be meeting you there. Waiting for the elevator doors to open, you made sure that you looked presentable enough. When the ground floor came into your sight, you got out of the golden walled elevator and walked down to the lobby.

The place was huge and crowded. Dozens of people were walking around or seated on the sofas but within those numbers of people, your eyes still found him sitting on one of the sofas near, with his eyes on the floor.

Jay has been sitting on the same couch for the past 25 minutes, waiting for you to come down. He came early just in case you finished before him, not wanting you to wait too long. A few of the hotel staff have approached him already asking if he wanted anything. He didn't want to be paranoid but at one point he even thought that you ditched him and went ahead earlier. That was until he saw your figure walking towards him.

Jay was beautiful. You've noticed it from the first time you saw him. His eyes pulled you in and his boxy smile captivated you. It was like seeing a star up close. But just like him, you wouldn't admit it out loud.

When he first saw you, he didn't deny the fact that he thought that you were attractive. That obviously wasn't something he would say so suddenly but it was still something he would have to admit for himself. Today was just like yesterday. The same thoughts came running through his head when he saw you smile at him as you approached him.

He immediately stood up to greet you and to return the smile you gave him. "Ready for today?" He asked with a welcoming look. Returning the kindness, you answered him. "Of course!" You held out your camera and smiled.

"Well let's get going then" 

_

It surprisingly just took the both of you a few minutes from your hotel room to your destination. Somehow, to the extent of your knowledge, the small map that Jay had prepared for his trip came in handy in time of traveling the city. With your broken Spanish, you thanked a few people that helped you get to where you are now — Ciutadella Park.

You were welcomed with a wide steel fence, wedged in between two statues. The inside was like a forest that housed itself with many trees and a peaceful ambiance. When the both of you finally got inside, you were more than pleased to see such beauty. The garden was gorgeous. It was surrounded by hundreds of plants, and the air was as fresh as it looked. The fountain at the center was enormous and breath-taking. Upon entering, you couldn't contain the excitement and started capturing everything you could see. From the flowerscape to the cascade, you knew that you would be able to fill your camera with so many pictures.

But pictures will only be pictures until you turn them into memories. 

Jay suddenly asked you if you wanted to get your picture taken. Quickly hesitating, he kept on persisting, saying that it won't be forever that you would get to see this place, and not having your photo taken there could make you regret it in a few years.

"If you let me take your picture, I'd let you practice your portraits on me"

A tempting offer since that is what you told him that you wanted to do. Honestly, you just felt shy to stand in front of the camera with him taking the photo. Silently giving him a look that said "I kind of want to, but I'm not sure", he extended his hand which meant to give him your camera. After a few more seconds of deciding, you finally caved in. He instructed you to stand near the fountain and smile, in which you did.

Jay really had no excuse other than to build up conversation again. He didn't even intend to say that you would model for him but seeing there really isn't any other person there with her, he had no choice. Not that he complained, he saw a few of your photos, some through the camera he took from you, and some through what you showed him over dinner last night. He trusted what you could do — something an artist like him would know. He saw you stand in front of the scenery ready to smile for the camera.

He had to admit that you look just as gorgeous compared to the garden. You were breath-taking. After taking more than a dozen pictures, Jay handed you back your camera. While actually judging yourself through the screen, your companion took some pictures of his own. A few of the scenery, and some, of you.

You had to admit, he did make you look decent in the photo. He captured your smile without it looking too cheesy. There were a few candid shots here and there but you were pretty pleased with it. It made you glad that you agreed to Jay’s random request. You looked back up and saw him taking some photos on his own camera. 

You approached with a smirk. "So how about that deal?", already knowing what you meant, he hid his camera and smiled at you.

The whole practice shoot with Jay took a lot of shots, laughing, whining, and begging. He was an amazing model, you were sure of it. If he didn't major in arts, you would most probably see him on a billboard or a magazine. His looks alone could get those companies big money. Jay was also a goof. He liked to play a lot. Like a cat. He has a habit of charming people. He doesn't do it intentionally, it just sort of comes naturally to him. 

They just find him too irresistible. He isn't aware that he has such a contagious smile and laugh that even when he does the bare minimum, people laugh along with him. It didn't surprise you that despite not having many still shots where he wasn't laughing, Jay looked exceptionally good. To say that he was impressed with your skills was an understatement, he saw your passion so whatever you had put out, he knew that he would like it. I mean, art built from passion is always better than aesthetically pleasing art right?

The day passed by like lightning. After taking your photos of your companion, you both strolled around the park, even going to the lake to take a short boat ride.

Now, the both of you were on your way to the Picasso museum for Jay. It took both of you at least another several minutes of travel. He started to become giddy. He didn't show it but through the small time of knowing him, you knew that he was ready to see the exhibit.

When the two of you entered the museum, you could see that he was gleaming with excitement. The once talkative boy became quiet as he took his time to admire the art pieces. He carefully read each description and he would tell you his own analysis of each work. 

"I'm sorry if I talk about this stuff too much" He started to apologize. Something he shouldn't do. No one should really apologize for something that makes them genuinely happy. 

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I like hearing you talk about these things" You assured him. He looked from the painting on the wall to you. "You do?" You nodded in response. "Of course. It tells me something I never knew" Jay gave you a small and genuine smile. He really appreciated it when people listened to his explanations and stories. It makes him want to tell more.

"Well I hope you wouldn't mind if I asked you to go to one more right?"

"Today? I thought we were going to the night market?" You asked back. "We can always go tomorrow or the next day, I mean we have-"

"Jay" You cut him off. He hummed in response and looked at you. "Tomorrow is my last day. My flight leaves at 11PM" You quickly told him before he starts making plans for the future. You completely forgot to tell him that your stay here was limited and that you have to go back home immediately.

"So soon?" You nodded in response.

"I still have like a few days left, traveling wouldn't be fun without you" He said with a pout on his face. You couldn't help but awe at him. If only you could stay for a few more days but booking another plane ticket would cost you more and you didn't have money for that now.

"We could still go in the morning or the afternoon though, I wouldn't mind" You smiled at him. Unintentionally and unknowingly, you lightly grabbed his arm, something which startled him a bit, but in a good way. "Well then miss Y/N, let's make your last day memorable. I'm taking you to Madrid"

__

Tomorrow came back so soon. After yesterday, Jay said he would pick you up again for your last day tour around the city. Madrid wasn't really in your plan of things to do but he said to be spontaneous. He wanted you to make the most out of it. You want to see more of the country and its culture and what better way to do that than to hop from one city to another. 

Just like yesterday, Jay arrived at your hotel lobby before you. He sat again in the same seat with the same look. Madrid was at least a two hour trip so the both of you quickly headed out, not wanting to waste time.

"So how long is your stay here?" You asked him while taking the long bus ride. "A week. My flight leaves on Saturday" he said. Just like you, Jay didn't plan to go to Madrid. He was supposed to go later into his trip but some things have changed and he just decided to just go ahead with it. 

He didn't really understand why he would go all the way and mix up all his plans and tire himself out for this girl he just met, but he was glad that he did. He loved your company, and to think that he would then have to spend the rest of his trip without someone he could tell jokes and stories with didn't seem as exciting as he first hopped on the plane to Barcelona.

"You've said that this wasn't your first trip right?" You began to ask him to start a conversation. He hummed and nodded in response. "Out of all of them? What was your favorite?" He gave it short thought, slightly tilting his head to think of an answer. "I'm not sure. They were all special"

"Come on you have to have one favorite"

"Not really, they're all different in their own way I guess, so I can't really choose"

"Alright, I’ll let you sit that one out" 

Jay began a new conversation. "My turn. Tell me something about you."

"Well...I like watching dramas," You said in an obvious tone. "Except that. I knew that already. Tell me something I don't know " He was sitting beside you. You had the window seat and he had the altar. He was staring down at you while you took your time to think of something while looking out the window. 

"I've never had a relationship" You answered him. He gave you a questionable smirk but replied quickly. "I won't judge. Why, though? Too busy with school?"

You shook your head to say no. "It's not that. I just haven't really gotten the timing of it" You saw that he was confused, he tilted his head slightly to show it.

"I was never one for a relationship. They come around but they don't stay for a while before something even happens. I don't know. I just start pushing them away because of this irrational fear I have of commitment."

"So you're afraid?"

"You could call it that"

It was silent for a while. You thought that you had brought the mood down until he started talking again. "I used to be afraid." You looked up at him as he began his story.

"Before I had my first partner, I wouldn't know how to act around everyone if I was in a relationship and that scared me. When I got into my first relationship, I immediately thought, 'what was I so afraid of?'. Everything just felt so nice that I never even realized that I was afraid in the first place"

"Then what happened?" Curiously you asked.

"We had our differences. I found out that they have been seeing my roommate behind my back. Got to my dorm to fetch something and I got the biggest shock of my life"

"If you're saying this so I won't be scared anymore then you're not helping"

"I'm saying this, to tell you that being afraid is totally understandable. But you gotta let go of your fear sometimes and just go with it. It could be some of the best years of your life. If worse comes to show then better people will come along the way. Yeah it sucked that I got cheated on, but I realized that I probably saved myself from that one and gave myself a chance to meet someone else. You just have to let fate bring the both of you together"

___

Time flew by too quickly, much to your dismay. Madrid was lovely. You got the chance to stroll around Retiro Park and Royal Palace and you had to thank Jay a couple of times to thank him for making you come.

Sadly, time really wasn't your best friend as it was time to go back to Barcelona to pack your bags so you could go to the airport and get back home. Jay was the sweetest, you told him that he didn't have to take you to the airport but he insisted despite it taking the both of you another two hours to get to your hotel room. 

He decided to wait outside your hotel room while you finished gathering your things out of respect for your personal space. When you were done, he didn't hesitate to grab your luggage to help you.

It was 9PM and you had two hours to spare before your flight leaves. The taxi ride was quiet as Jay sat sat next to you. There was a small space in the middle and no one dared say a word. It wasn't an awkward silence though, more of a comforting but sad silence. It was deafening even when they had the radio turned on.

Deciding to break the unfathomable silence, you decided to speak. 

"Thank you. Again. I know I've said it already but it wouldn't be enough after everything you've done"

"Don't worry. Anyone else would've done the same"

They wouldn't.

"And thank you too," He said. His eyes saw that your hand was lying on your lap. 

After hesitating he softly gave them a squeeze. It surprised you but it didn't freak you out. You were even glad that he did that. 

"This whole trip wouldn't be the same now that you're going to go" He said with a point. His left hand was softly playing with the fingers on your right hand. You gave him a sad smile. 

"We could do it again soon" you replied quietly, not making eye contact, implying that you would like to see him again once you both got home.

"Are you asking me out once I get back home?" He said with an evident smug on his face. "I mean....that isn't what I meant, but if you wanted to" you replied back."I just wish I had your contact number so we could arrange something " His weak attempt of asking for your number made you laugh but it worked nonetheless. Soon you found yourself typing in your phone number on his cell.

Finally arriving at the airport, he took a hold of your luggage for you.

You honestly didn't want to do it. For just 3 days, his presence became a constant reminder to you that you wished to have him by your side when you got inside the plane..

He made you feel less scared.

"I guess you have to go, your plane is waiting for you" He gave your hand one final squeeze before handing you your luggage and letting your hand go. Your fingers felt cold and you'd want to grab a hold of him again but you thought that you shouldn't. You thought that it would be too much. "Yeah. Who's going to switch seats with the old guy beside me now?" You lightly joke.

You probably should walk away now but you weren't. You were still there standing in front of him. "It was nice to meet you Jay, you made this trip extra special" You smiled at him. Without saying anything back, he just nodded. It was your chance to turn around, walk away from him, and to leave Barcelona.

But you guess he had other ideas. To your surprise, you felt a hand grasp your wrist. It was a firm hold but not tight enough for it to hurt. It was firm enough to tell you to not go just yet.

"I've never said it before when you asked but this one was my favorite trip out of all of them."

Jay was bold when he grabbed her closer to him. You felt his lips meet your cheek. It was sudden and out of the blue and it left you frozen for a few seconds. As he slowly stepped back, you turned your head and connected your lips with his. It took a few seconds to realize what was happening but soon he slowly traveled his hand from her wrist to the tips of your face.  His hand was resting on your jaw while every square inch of your body dissolved into his. You suddenly felt a sensation you never knew you were feeling. Jay’s soft hold on you made you cling on to him and made you want him closer than he already was. It wasn't intense, but it wasn't just a goodbye either. It was desperate but soft. It was quick but enough.

The both of you had to let go to catch your breath. With a sad look you had to let go. "I'll see you when you get home."

___

Your mom had bombarded you with dozens of questions after she picked you up from the airport. 

She wanted to know everything, the plane ride, she wanted to know how food tastes, if I talked to any Spanish men while I was there, or if I made a friend. You were too tired and too out of focus to even answer her. 

Jay was still on your mind and you couldn't find the right time to tell her that you did meet someone while you were there and that you both shared a moment before leaving. You wondered how he was doing, or where he was right now, but you couldn't ask him. Your idiocy forgot to tell you to get his phone number so you had to resort into waiting for him to get him which would still be in a few more days.

When you were transferring your photos from your camera to your laptop, your mom immediately wanted to check them out. Just when you thought you've hidden all your photos you had of your companion in a separate folder. One picture was left unknown to you. 

“He’s cute” As your mom, she quickly asked who the stranger was. As if you could've hid it for that long you decided to tell her. Not that she was mad that you had spent your whole trip traveling with a man you just met surprised her but the fact that your stories made it seem like you've known him for so long. “Uhm…I met him on the plane. He happened to be traveling alone too so we just…decided to keep each other company.”

Suddenly, you remembered everything he made you feel. For 3 days, he made you feel like you could trust him. He gave you so many encouraging words and charming lines which immediately attracted you to his loving personality. For 3 days, Jay made you feel like the world. He gave you something you could never forget.

But why does it feel like it doesn't go the same for him? 

Now, it's been weeks since your Barcelona trip and you haven't received one text or phone call from him. You had to triple check whether your cell was still on airplane mode and it wasn't. You started overthinking whether you gave him the wrong number or not and he would think that you didn't want to talk to him anymore. Worse, you started overthinking whether he really wanted to see you again.

You've thought of every possible scenario from him accidentally deleting your number or him getting his phone stolen, but none had soothed your thoughts.

Maybe you were thinking too irrationally and you were getting attached too quickly that you feel disappointed that he has not contacted you yet. It was only 3 days right? You shouldn't be so bummed about him not reaching out after weeks? But why were you? Why are you over thinking about him? Was that kiss just a spur of the moment? Were you just a matter of convenience and spontaneity?

Time flew by, much to your dismay.

A new semester has started and you haven't heard from Jay after your vacation. You've slowly started to let it go thinking that it wouldn't make a difference if you mopped around.

To say that you didn't want to go back was an understatement but you had no other choice. You were early by 5 minutes for your first class, much to your surprise. Your friends Karina and Wonyoung, were already there sitting together. They even saved you a seat as they gestured for you to come over.

"Do any of you want to go with me to the Art departments exhibit tonight? I gotta go support Sunghoon but I don't want to go alone, he'd be too busy with the gallery" Wonyoung asked as you sat down. "Isn't he a sports major?" Karina asked back.

"Yes but he had to take extra units in Art. Do you want to come?"

"Sorry Won, I promised my mom and dad to dinner later"

"Y/N?"

"Yeah sure, I guess it'd be fun"

To be honest, you've never appreciated art as much as you did before Barcelona. Jay changed your mind on it. And now every painting you see, you couldn't stop thinking about him.

By 6 in the evening you found yourself standing with Wonyoung inside the Art departments gallery. You've never realized that the students from your university were crazy talented. The paintings and sculptures were made with fine hands. All of them had their own color and technique.

When Wonyoung said that Sunghoon would be too busy with the gallery to pay attention to her, you believed her.

You shouldn't have.

Her and her boyfriend were now having the time of their lives while you were left around to wonder and see the art. The place was huge and was packed with people but you managed to weave yourself to the last part of the exhibit.

You took your time reading each description and looking at the different strokes on each painting when you've come across one painting in particular.

It was a girl that had her back facing the canvas. She was surrounded by a familiar scene. The towering buildings made the girl look small, the sun shone in the oil canvas, and the trees seemed like they were swaying even if they were made to look still. The gothic painting was a place she knew well.

Barcelona.

It's been months since her last visit but the moments you have spent there were still clear. Of course, it would be. Everything was too memorable to forget — everything and someone. Memories of the charismatic but playful man played in your head and you couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic and regretful. You've thought that after your trip to the historic and romantic city in Europe, you'd finally met someone you were willing to have a romance with. But, maybe you spoke too soon, and too ambitious even.

By this time, it would have been best if you forgot everything and just moved on. I mean, you've only known the man for less than a week, how is it so possible that he could have this much of an impact on you? You've grown too attached to him and it didn't help that he wasn't there to actually have someone attached to. Maybe it was time to finally come to terms with your expectations of you and Jay. Maybe you shouldn't be so down that he didn't text you and just be glad that you met him; even if it was only temporary.

Detaching your gaze from the painting, you've led yourself outside to gather some fresh air. You'd hate to leave Wonyoung but she seems preoccupied as you texted her that you'd be heading out and she replied that she had Sunghoon with her. After pushing away the glass doors of the gallery, you were quickly met with a gust of wind blowing in your face. It was quiet and lonely unlike inside where it was jam-packed with people. You were just slowly getting used to the serene atmosphere when you heard the gallery doors behind you open once again.

As you looked to check who it was, you started to feel that the amount of wind blowing in your face was useless. Your breath was stuck on your throat. The man who exited the halls had your mouth left hanging. You want to think you were hallucinating but you've been blinking enough to know that this was real.

Park Jongseong.

Just like you, he stood completely still; he was huffing his chest, probably catching his breath from a quick run outside. Jay saw you from the gallery balcony looking at the oil canvas that he presented for his midterms. He didn't want to believe it at first but after a few seconds, he was sure. It was you. The girl he grew fond of after his trip last summer.

"Y/N...."

You didn't know how to act. You didn't know what to say. What were you supposed to do? Run up to him? Give him a hug? Tell him you missed him? Or were you supposed to walk away? Show him how embarrassed you felt after being left hanging?

All of these questions were running through your head but one thing was clear in Jay’s head.

He had to explain.

"I didn't expect to see you here" Jaycontinued to say as he slowly walked over to the girl. His voice was hushed and gentle, but it was still enough to have your heart racing. "Same here" You managed to reply.

He was finally standing in front of you. The distance felt awkward yet so familiar. "I-uh...." Jay began to stutter. "Uhm... What are you doing here?"

"A friend asked me to come with her" He nodded in reply. "Where is she?"

"With her boyfriend"

"So you're all alone now?"

"Wouldn't be the first time"

You saw his mouth shut tight. 

It was quiet. No one spoke. You've gotten used to silence whenever you were with Jay during your time in Barcelona, but somehow this felt different. It wasn't a comfortable silence; it felt like someone wanted to fill the void with words.

"I'm sorry" You heard him say. You never prepared yourself to have this talk; nonetheless right at this moment. "I had no other excuse for not calling you other than I was afraid"

"Jay..."

"I ignored you when you must have waited for my text and I will forever regret being so scared to do it because I wasn't sure whether whatever happened between us was real or just a spur in the moment of loneliness" 

You tried to avoid his deep gaze but they reeled you no matter what. "But after weeks, the feelings were still there and I didn't know how I was going to explain how it took so long to call you so I just left it at that..."

"And when I saw you, It's like someone inside of me told me that maybe leaving it all in Barcelona wasn't our last chance.That maybe, just maybe, I could make this right; stop being so afraid of what I feel."

"Where are you going with this Jay?"

He stepped closer.

"I made a mistake. I didn't call because I was afraid and thinking that all of it was just because I felt lonely. But I don't want to be that Jay anymore. I don’t want to be a hypocrite. I want to be the Jay that would be there for you, even outside of Barcelona. I don't know if our meeting was just a coincidence or a twist of fate, but I'll take them any day because I had the greatest opportunity of meeting you again."

And it was like, at that moment, you forgot all the words and have lost the ability to speak because right after he said that you couldn't help but stare at him.

"That is...if you want to of course...I don't want to force you or-"

"Jay.."

He stopped talking and looked at you.

“What you did really hurt me, you know that right?” You started off. “I know. And I don’t want to make any excuses. I would do anything for your forgiveness.”

You took a deep breath. 

“Everything is just so sudden. One minute you disappear from the face of the earth and now you’re in front of me, asking me for a chance…Do you know how insane this sounds?” 

He gulped and looked down on his feet.

“But I would be a fool to let you get away another time.”

“So what you’re saying is-”

“Coincidence. Fate. Whatever it is, I wouldn’t be so afraid to try things with you.”

[starpros-sunshine]

I exist in this weird personality limbo where i somehow have so little sense of an individual self that that over time warped into. whatever this is. I have something going on here i'm sure but I am 99% sure that it's either indescribable or just very difficult to define beyond "Nice with an interesting sense of humour"

[thelostconsultant]

You got me worried

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: You get into a car accident when you're on the phone with Max, who immediately leaves to see you. Charles finds out what's wrong and offers to go with him. Those few days in the hospital change a few of his personal relationships.

warning: accident, serious injuries. (no death.)

note: My Lestappen heart wanted me to write this.

word count: almost 5.3k

“You’re stalling,” you said on the other end of the line, and Max could tell you had that adorable smirk on your face that he loved so much.

But he wasn’t stalling, at least not intentionally. He wanted to answer your question, but he honestly didn’t know what to say, so he decided to take his time to figure out what to tell you. Your mother wasn’t very fond of him, she believed that you made a mistake by dating someone whose job was so dangerous, and she always had this bad feeling about him. When he asked you what it meant, you just shrugged as said not to look for logic in this. So he put his own bad feelings aside and played nice every time they were together somewhere. 

And now? Now you wanted to take her on a trip to New Zealand and asked him to tag along if he didn’t have anything else to do. Well, it was clearly a trap. One, he had no official obligations around New Year’s Eve which you knew perfectly well, and two, he wanted to enter the new year on your side, he wanted to kiss you at midnight, so he had no choice but to follow wherever you were heading. 

Letting out a sigh as he leaned back on his bed in the driver’s room, Max decided to yield, something he was only willing to do because of you. “Fine, I’ll go with you,” he told you, trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice. “But why don’t we invite a friend of hers? This way she would be entertained while we spend some time alone. Come on, you owe me this much.”

It was your turn to remain silent, but it only lasted for a few seconds. “I mean, she’s dating this guy now–”

“Someone’s willing to date her?” Shit, this sentence wasn’t meant to slip out. Clearing his throat, he pinched the bridge of his nose and went, “Sorry, I mean, she didn’t seem like she was ready to date just yet.”

“I get what you mean. I don’t know much about him, maybe this could be the perfect chance to get to know him a little better. And you’re right, he could keep her company while we’re having fun on our own,” you said with a laugh. 

Despite the idea being presented for the first time a few minutes ago, Max was already thinking about this trip as the perfect chance to put his plan into motion. Because he’d been planning to take your relationship to the next level, to start a family with you. And what would be better than a proposal in another country and maybe his not so secret attempt to get you pregnant? It would be great, he knew you would be happy. 

But before he could say anything, he heard scream and a loud noise, one that sounded eerily like cars crashing and glass breaking. “What happened?” There was no answer, and he couldn’t help but sit up with his heart ready to jump out of his ribcage. “Baby, please, say something,” he begged, but there was still no response. 

Then he heard people buzzing in the background, talking loudly, screaming for help, telling someone to call the emergency number. One person who was probably close to your car told someone you weren’t moving, but they also said they couldn’t tell if you were dead. Dead. He wanted to shout, he wanted to cry, he felt like throwing up, but somehow he managed to keep his cool. Panicking wouldn’t solve anything, he had to listen for now. But your car’s multimedia system gave in and ended the call, leaving him there with his fears and thoughts. 

Max tried to call you, but no one answered, so he quickly made a few calls to ensure his jet was available the moment he got to the airport. Because the race was over, he only had one or two interviews left, but he couldn’t care less about those. After throwing his things into his backpack, he hurriedly left his room and looked for the press officer to tell her he was leaving right now. She tried to ask him what was wrong, but he just shook his head and waved goodbye, his eyes fixed on the screen as he typed in the address where your phone was at this moment. 

He found a few posts about a crash there, and one of them had a photo as well. It was your car, he knew that right away, but the sight made his heart clench. The other car t-boned yours on the left side, right where you were sitting, which made him afraid there was no way you could survive that crash. But then he found a post about the drivers being taken to the hospital, so maybe it wasn’t so bad, maybe it was just looking bad. 

Suddenly he bumped into someone, which finally made him look up from the screen of his phone. “Sorry,” he said automatically. 

Charles gave him an unimpressed look, motioning towards his phone. “What’s so interesting?”

“An accident,” he replied, having no idea why he answered the question instead of just leaving him there. This caught the other driver’s interest, because he quickly said goodbye to the person he’d been talking to and moved to his side to look at the screen of the device. “That’s my girlfriend’s car on the right.”

“This looks bad. How is she?” he asked, sounding genuinely worried despite only meeting you once. 

Max gulped and shrugged. “I don’t know. I–I was on the phone with her, then I heard a loud crash and a scream. The call ended and no one’s picking up her phone. I don’t know what’s going on, so I’ll just pack my suitcases and head to the airport to get home as soon as possible,” he said without stopping to take a breath. 

Yes, he was panicking, he was losing his cool, but that was the least of his problems right now. All he could think about was the worst case scenario, the possibility of the doctor not being able to save your life. What would he do then? How could he move on from losing you? How could he live his life without hearing your scream all the time? It was all too much, especially after a frustrating race like the one today.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Charles put a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes with a serious expression on his face. “Okay, take a deep breath. Are you sure you can drive like this?” For the very first time, he actually considered what he was planning to do, and after a few seconds of thinking, he came to the conclusion that he was definitely not in the right state of mind to drive, so he shook his head. “All right,” the Monegasque began slowly, looking over his shoulder for a moment, “we’ll find someone who can take care of your car, then I’ll give you a ride to the airport. How does that sound?”

It was a long day, Charles had to fight his own battles during the race, mostly with his own team, but there he was, offering to chauffeur him around so he would stay safe. A small, thankful smile crept on his lips as he nodded eventually. Maybe this was for the best, the last thing he wanted was doing something stupid because he was distracted by his fears. 

“Okay. You should get someone to pick you up when you get to Monaco, you shouldn’t drive there either,” Charles told him as they headed back to the Red Bull motorhome.

A desperate laugh left him at this. “Well, she wasn’t there, she was visiting her family, so she’s in a country where the only ones I know are her relatives, and they’re in the hospital with her. But I’ll call a taxi, it’s not a problem,” he explained with a sigh. 

A thoughtful hum from Charles caught his attention as he looked over at him. “Well, in this case I’ll have to drive you around there too,” the other man declared with a kind smile. When Max opened his mouth to tell him it was unnecessary, he just raised his hand to stop him. “I don’t take no for an answer. She’s nice. Hell, it’s easy to tell she has a good influence on you. Now I want to make sure she’s okay too.”

Max could hardly wrap his head around why he offered to help. He surely had better things to do than traveling to a country other than his home, meeting strangers who were the closest to someone he only met once, and providing emotional support to someone he’d been battling with since they were kids. This was beyond him, but he was too afraid to ask for the reason. A little voice in the back of his mind said he was planning something, but then he looked into Charles’s bright eyes and realized he was just being nice. 

They were sitting in the car on the way to the airport when his phone began to ring, and the screen lit up with the name of your mother. Gulping, he swiped his finger and raised the device to his ear. “Hi, Laura, do you know anything about her? Ho–how is she?” he asked, eagerly waiting for the older woman’s reply. 

“I guess you know about the accident then. I’m at the hospital with her. She’s still in surgery and they said it will take a few more hours before they can take her to the ICU. Do you want to come here?”

Did she really ask him if he wanted to be there? After all that time they spent together, after everything they had gone through, she dared to ask him if he wanted to be by her side? Outrageous. “I’m already on my way to the airport, I just need to know which hospital she’s in,” he replied, forcing himself to stay relatively calm. He didn’t want a fight with her, not when they were both in a very fragile state of mind. 

The woman on the other end of the line remained silent for a few seconds, then he heard muffled voices, which was followed by the sound of her clearing her throat. “I’ll send you everything you need to know.”

“Thank you. And if you hear anything, call me. Please.”

“Of course. See you later, Max.”

Once the call ended, he glanced down at his phone and waited until it buzzed again, the notification of a new message showing up. He had a location, although funnily enough, it was sent by your cousin, not your mother. It was a smaller miracle that she called him herself, a part of him expected her to make someone else do this. But at least her dislike for him became obvious once again. 

Charles glanced over at him with a questioning look on his face. “How is she?” he asked, the tone of his voice making it clear that he was walking on eggshells around him.

Max leaned his head against the seat and looked out the window. “Still in surgery, and she will probably be in there for another few hours. Even though she's probably in good hands, I'm not… It's hard to stay positive,” he admitted with a gulp.

“Maybe it will take a while, but she's gonna get better. You need to believe this, otherwise you'll go insane,” the other driver tried, his voice quiet, but confident. 

He was trying to help, and he was right, but his mind was full of thoughts about the worst case scenarios. What if you end up in a coma you don't wake up from? What if there's serious brain damage? What if you can't live the same active life you used to? He knew you would be devastated, and it's not like he would leave you for that, he just didn't know how he could handle it emotionally.

So yeah, he was already going insane. 

“Why are you doing this?” Max asked, voicing the question that had been in the back of his mind for a while now. 

Charles responded with a questioning hum, and despite the pair of sunglasses he wore, it was easy to tell he was watching him with a raised eyebrow. “Why wouldn't I? Look, maybe we're not friends outside the track, but I can imagine how hard this situation must be for you. Just accept the help for once, okay?”

After taking a deep breath, Max nodded. “Thank you.” 

The Monegasque had a smirk on his face when he returned his attention to the road. According to the sat nav, the airport was only five minutes away, so Max unlocked his phone and saw a message from Lando that told him to check X’s trending topics. When he opened the app, he saw his name at the front, and the posts were about some anonymous source leaking information about you being in the hospital. 

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he scrolled through the flood of posts. 

“What?”

Looking over at him, Max let out an annoyed groan. “Her accident made it to social media. From what I’ve seen so far was based on a post from someone who either works at the hospital or is a first responder. And someone kept digging until they put the pieces together, so now there’s a photo of the car wreck circling around,” he explained. 

“It’s not that bad. Unless they’re celebrating. Please, tell me they’re not celebrating.”

Max shook his head. “No, it’s not that, but whoever wrote the original post made it clear her life is hanging on a thread. So people are now getting ready for the worst case scenario.”

“Her not surviving this?” Charles guessed as he glanced over at him. When there was a quiet nod in response, he gulped and looked back at the road. “She won’t die. Don’t even think about it. She’s young and strong, and I’m sure she’s a fighter. Okay, we’re here.”

For the first time in a while Max looked up and noticed they had indeed arrived. After getting their suitcases, they got on the jet and sat down to wait for the takeoff. During the flight Charles tried to avert his thoughts by talking about the race and bringing up old memories from their carting days, and Max realized that he had absolutely no idea how he would say thank you for his help. 

For years he assumed their long history of rivalry meant they could never be friends, and their conversations would be nothing but casual chats based on mutual respect. But now he was here, providing the kind of emotional support he so desperately needed. 

Two hours later they entered the hospital building through a big crowd of paparazzi, reporters and fans, trying to navigate through the maze to find where your family was waiting. It took some time, but eventually they found them. Your cousin was the only one who jumped up and ran over to him, her arms sneaking around his body to pull him into a hug as she cried. The poor girl was only sixteen, and despite the age difference you two were the closest, as if you were siblings. His eyes fell on your mother, but she was simply staring ahead with a neutral look in her eyes. 

Charles decided to sit down not far from them, sending a message to his girlfriend so she would know where he was, but Max knew he was paying attention. “Any news?” he asked Sophie, your cousin.

“Yeah, she’s in the ICU, just until they know she’s really stable. She has a badly broken leg, a few broken ribs, one even punctured her lung, and… Yeah, severe concussion, and I think there’s a fracture in her cheek.”

Max gulped as his fingers ran through his hair. “That’s a lot,” he noted, earning a nod. “But she’s relatively okay, right?”

“You can say that,” your mother suddenly spoke up, finally acknowledging him. 

For a few moments they were just staring at each other, and Max was beginning to think she would start blaming him for the accident. Even if she didn’t know about the call they were in at the time, she would sure as hell find a reason to put the blame on him. She always did, whenever you had a bad day, it was surely his fault, even when you weren’t even in the same country.

But to his surprise, that’s not what happened, because she suddenly walked over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. He didn’t even know what to do at first, his eyes were moving back and forth between Sophie and Charles, but they both shrugged to tell him they had no clue what he should do. So he wrapped his arms around her too, soon hearing her crying into his shoulder. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Max,” she said when she took a step back and looked up at him. “I had my doubts, but… Knowing you rushed here after finding out what happened means a lot to me.”

With a sad smile, he nodded. “Where else would I be? I–I don’t know if you knew, but I was on the phone with her when the accident happened. She told me about the trip to New Zealand you’re planning, she was trying to convince me to go with you, and… Would you mind if I tagged along?” he asked, as if he needed her permission. 

But maybe he did. Maybe this hug was the olive branch he’d been hoping to receive one day, the least he could do was make sure she was okay with the plan. And maybe him going with you wasn’t the only thing he should talk to her about, maybe he should mention the most obvious decision he had made during that call. When she said she wouldn’t mind if she joined them, Max took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. 

“There’s something else. I’m planning to propose on New Year’s Eve. A few hours ago I thought your opinion was irrelevant and it’s her decision, but… now I’d like to hear what you have to say. Would you be okay with it?” he asked hesitantly, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another.

Your mother’s lips curled into a smile all of a sudden, then he reached out to take his hand in hers. “I’m sure that would make her really happy. And if she’s happy, I’m happy. You know what? My idiotic ex-husband used our family heirloom, a beautiful engagement ring, to propose. How about giving that to her?”

“Are you sure?” She nodded without hesitation. “Thank you, that would be great.”

Since the doctor said they would tell them when they could go and see you, Max sat down next to Charles and waited there in silence. The other driver glanced up from his phone every now and then, but eventually he had enough of the silence and decided to pay full attention to him. 

“You okay?” 

He honestly didn’t know the answer to this simple question. You were alive, your mother gave him her blessing, what else would he need? Still, he couldn’t get himself to say yes. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. 

Charles nodded as he supportively patted his back. “I’m sure you’ll be better once you see her,” he noted with a small smile. “You heard her mother, the worst part is over, now all she needs is time to recover.”

And that was a problem he had to solve. He knew your mother would be more than happy to help you, he could hire a live-in nurse to take care of you, he could send you to the best rehabilitation facility in Europe, but nothing would make him feel good enough if he couldn’t be there by your side. Because he still had half a season left, he was expected to travel around the world, away from you, and the thought was killing him. 

“Without me,” he eventually said, so quietly that he hoped Charles didn’t catch it.

But he did, and he clearly understood what was bothering him. “I know it’s hard, but she will understand that you can’t be by her side all the time. Once the season’s over, she won’t get rid of you,” he said with a laugh, nudging his side with his elbow. “Come on, let’s get some coffee. We could all use it.”

Max nodded, and as Charles took the orders, he asked Sophie if she would like to come help them. He knew she was a traitor who supported his rival, but she was young and nice, so he chalked it up to teenage stupidity for now. While they waited for the coffees, Charles and Sophie got lost in a conversation that was conveniently in French “so she could practice.” They seemed to get along, and he was glad your cousin had a reason to smile for a while.

This is why he spent this time checking his phone and found a bunch of messages from friends and family, all telling him that they were there if he needed help. Knowing so many people cared about them warmed his heart. It was mostly you, he knew that, your charming personality had everyone wrapped around your finger. This gave him the idea to send a message to his mother and sister, telling them he would propose the moment you were feeling well enough to make a decision. 

A few hours later Charles said goodbye and promised to be back the next day, and soon your family left as well. Your mother wanted to stay, but Max promised to call her if there was anything to know. So he slept on the couch in the waiting room, ignoring the weird look some people gave him the whole evening. A nurse was nice enough to bring him a pillow that made it a bit more bearable, but he wished you could be transferred to a regular room where he could ask for a bed to sleep in next to you. 

In the morning a doctor gently squeezed his shoulder to wake him up, and he groggily rubbed his eyes as he sat up. “Morning, Doctor,” he said, trying hard to fight back a yawn. “Did something happen?”

The man sat down next to him and turned to him with a small smile. “She’s ready to be taken to a normal hospital room. You mentioned to our staff yesterday that you want her to be placed in the VIP section, preferably with an extra bed for you, so we took care of everything. I can walk you there if you’d like,” he offered. 

“Sure, sure, thank you. How is she?”

“A little better. She’s strong, she’s breathing on her own, so I’m confident she’ll pull through. Just be patient,” the doctor replied. 

Once he was in the new room you were being taken to, he sent a text to everyone about your new location, then impatiently waited for your bed to be wheeled in. His foot was tapping fast on the linoleum floor, not stopping until the door opened and a young man stood there with a shocked look on his face. Max raised his hand to say hi, to which the poor man only reacted by going out to continue his work to get you inside. 

A nurse walked in behind him with a kind smile on her lips, then moved her attention back to you as she got you settled in the room. He wanted to go there and take your hand, but he knew he had to wait. He would have time, there was no need to rush, they had to do their job first. You were hooked on machines, your body bandaged all over, and the sight brought tears to his eyes. If he didn’t know you were through the worst part, he would assume you were still between life and death. 

Soon everybody left and he sat on a chair next to your bed, gently taking your hand in his. He had no idea if you could hear him, but he talked to you nonetheless, telling you about him making peace with your mother, about Charles being here with him, about your whole family being here, and about how much he loved you. He even begged you to wake up, to come back to him. 

“Good morning,” came Charles’ voice about an hour later as he walked inside with two cups of coffee, from which he handed one over. “Here, I guess you could use it.”

With a thankful smile, Max took it, then leaned back in the chair and watched as the other man looked down at you with a sigh. “The doctor said she’ll pull through, she just needs to rest,” he told him.

The fellow driver looked up with a smile. “See? I told you.” He sat down on the edge of the other bed and took a sip of his coffee. “Your suitcase is in the back of the car. I didn’t know which hotel you wanted to stay in,” he added.

“Neither. I’m staying with her,” Max was quick to clarify. 

“Yeah, but you need to take a shower, you need to sleep.”

“There’s a bathroom and you’re sitting on my bed. I’ll be fine.”

Charles followed his gaze and let out a tired groan. “She wouldn’t mind if you left for a few hours. Look, why don’t you talk to her mother to take shifts by her side? I’m sure she would understand that you need proper sleep,” he explained, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. 

Silence followed his words, mostly because Max didn’t feel like arguing about this. He was here to stay, by your side, right until he had no choice but to leave for the next race. “If it was Alex, would you leave her side?” he eventually asked. 

“No,” came the response right away. “I probably wouldn’t.” After sipping their drinks in silence, the Monegasque stood up at one point and threw his now empty cup into the trash can, and turned to him. “Okay, I’ll go get your suitcase so you can freshen up before her family arrives. And Laura is bringing us breakfast, so you’d better look presentable by the time she gets here.”

“Laura? Since when are you on first name terms with her?”

The other man laughed and shrugged. “Since I took the time to have a chat with her yesterday. All right, let’s get you cleaned up.”

For the next few days, this is how things went. Charles was always the first to arrive, then he left to get lunch, and stayed until four or five in the afternoon. Max had told him to go home, that he would be fine now, but he didn’t care about this. He said he wanted to be there, at least until you finally woke up so he could tell you that almost dying just to get an emotional reaction out of your boyfriend was an overkill. And maybe he mentioned one day that Alex would stop talking to him for a few days if he left him alone, so he decided to be a good boy. 

One night he was woken by a strange sound coming from you, as if you were trying to speak up. Ever since you were brought in, he became a light sleeper, so he immediately picked up on the change in the atmosphere of the room. He turned on the light above his bed and moved over to you, his hand falling on your face right away, thumb gently brushing your cheek.

“Hey, baby,” he said as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m here. What do you need?”

Your eyes turned to him, immediately locking with his blue ones, as you registered that it was truly him. Your fingers squeezed his hand, the feeling of you being awake making him smile. “Can I… get some… water?” you asked hoarsely. 

He immediately reached out for the glass and filled it from the bottle next to it. He helped to put the end of the straw in your mouth and held the glass for you. “I’m so glad you’re finally awake. You almost got me worried,” he explained. 

“How long…?”

“Five days. How are you? Does anything hurt? Should I get a doctor? I should get a doctor, right? Yeah, you just–” 

He only stopped talking because you gave him a tired look and laced your fingers with his. “Max, relax... It’s fine,” you said weakly. “I need a minute… before you call them.”

You didn’t want to talk, you just wanted to be there with him, holding hands while your brain caught up. But eventually he apologized and left to find a nurse, because he was too afraid that something would go wrong if he waited too long. He needed confirmation that you were okay, that it was safe to let you talk, to touch you, to kiss you. He wanted to know when and what you could eat, when he could bring you your favorite coffee. His brain was in overdrive, but he didn’t mind. 

Not when he finally had you back. 

The next morning he was sitting by your side, having a conversation with you about something trivial. Speaking went well now, the soreness in your throat quickly faded with practice. Sure, you still weren’t a hundred percent, but it was much better than what he heard in the middle of the night. He told you what happened, he told you everything he had mentioned while you were unconscious, and your conversation went so well that he didn’t even notice Charles coming in. 

“You’re awake!” the Monegasque said with a bright smile as he handed the usual cup to Max. “How are you feeling?”

You returned his smile, but when you tried to take a deep breath, you couldn’t help but wince. “My ribs hurt like hell when I breathe or talk too much,” you replied. “Thank you for staying with him.”

Charles looked over at Max, then his eyes returned to you. “I’m staying by his side because I don’t want my girlfriend to kick me out.”

After all those days it was hard to tell if he was serious, or if he was just saying this to hide the fact their relationship did change lately. Max surprised himself, because he wanted to believe it was the latter. His gaze returned to you, choosing to stay out of your conversation for now. 

“Still,” you began, but fell silent when you looked over at your boyfriend. “Why can’t you be like Charles?” He gave you a confused look, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed the other driver’s evergrowing smile. “He gets proper sleep. He shaves. He doesn’t live in a hospital room,” you added with a stern look. 

Shaking his head, Max placed a kiss on your temple. “I’m not leaving you. Don’t even think about it.”

“But she’s right,” Charles told him with a shit-eating grin. 

“Go to hell,” Max told him with a roll of his eyes.

[plasticferal]

hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)

damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.

i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.

the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.

all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.

“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.

“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.

you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.

you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.

all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.

the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.

chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.

every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.

"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.

"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.

"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.

“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.

"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.

"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.

"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.

"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.

you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.

"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.

"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.

looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.

"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.

"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.

you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.

"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.

"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.

you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.

feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.

when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.

"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.

chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.

turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.

"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.

"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.

"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.

the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.

"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.

"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.

"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.

"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.

you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.

"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.

you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.

"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.

"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.

you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.

"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.

chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.

"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.

there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.

you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.

the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.

he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.

before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.

chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.

the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.

you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.

in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.

he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.

you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.

you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.

appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.

they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.

nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.

your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.

chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.

you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.

"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.

walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.

the room is filled with tension.

matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.

"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.

"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.

"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.

"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.

matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.

"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.

you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.

you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.

“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.

he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.

“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.

“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.

"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.

"chris," you start. he keeps talking.

“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.

“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.

“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.

"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.

"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.

"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.

"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.

"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.

"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.

"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.

you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.

"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.

you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.

"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."

"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.

"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"

"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.

"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"

"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.

"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.

your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.

in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.

chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.

the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.

you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.

"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.

he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.

"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.

tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.

turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.

you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.

"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.

"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.

with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.

"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.

his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.

"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.

chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.

"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.

he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.

"i mean it, y/n."

"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.

"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.

he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.

"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.

"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."

"i know, chris."

"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."

"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.

"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.

"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.

"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.

you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.

"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."

"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.

"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.

chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.

"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.

you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.

"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.

his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.

"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.

chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.

"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."

this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.

[just-some-trans-nobody]

December Christmas Monster stories

December 10.) Werewolf neighbor

Ok sorry about this one, it might technically be December 11 by the time I post it but it's still the 10th day. This one is actually going to be a two parter as I wrote so damn much for this one, it was actually meant to be far more longer than this but the rest will be for later. Walter is definitely going to have more stories writen about him.

Warnings: bodys pressing together, neck sniffing with no promotion, meantion of divorce, seasonal depression

Minors Don't Interact!!!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sitting on your couch you looked down at the pathetic box of christmas decorations. It was your first time spending Christmas completely alone. No family to come over, all your friends were too far away and spending the holidays with their own families. You didn’t even bother with getting a tree this year, you didn’t see the point of doing one all by yourself. 

Looking at your empty living room, void of any Christmas decorations it only served to make you sadder. “Maybe it couldn’t hurt to get a little tree?” You mumbled to yourself. Perhaps that’s what you needed to help cheer up your seasonal depression even for a little bit.

Throwing on a jacket and some winter boots you headed out to find a store for your impulse christmas tree purchase. You definitely weren’t planning on getting a real tree. It would be too much of a hassle getting it home alone plus you really weren’t looking forward to cleaning up pine sap and needles once it started to die. 

Making your way to the store you noticed a very familiar fuzzy shape walking on the path alone. Slowing your car down to a crawl you rolled down your window getting a much clearer view of your next door neighbor Walter the recently divorced werewolf. He was walking on the snowy sidewalk with a big flannel jacket and black jeans. The sound of your car slowing down caused his ears to perk up on high alert. Without even looking at you he sniffed the air, his tail wagged when he recognized the scent he was smelling. “Well isn’t it (Y/n)!” He said, turning his head to look at you. “Heya Walter, you need a lift? It’s pretty cold to be walking around.” You told him offering a ride, you didn’t mind pushing off shopping a little longer if it meant making sure Walter was out of the snow, nothing else at all totally not because you wanted to spend more time with your recently divorced neighbor, none at all nope. Seeing the smile he flashed you at your offer made your heart skip a beat, you blamed it on seeing his sharp teeth and not because of his smile so bright it could melt frozen butter. 

Not refusing the offer to get out of the snow Walter walked to your passenger door and got in. It was only then did you notice he was wearing booties on his paws. You wouldn’t want to be walking in the snow barefoot either. Though the sight was rather funny to see, a big bad werewolf in booties with a fur trim. 

“So where were you headed? I don’t want to take you away from where you were going too much.” Walter said not bothering to buckle up, he couldn’t buckle up in your car even if he tried. He was a little too big to sit comfortably in the passenger seat but he made it work. “Oh I was just heading to the store to see if I could find any Christmas trees for my place.” You answered honestly. In the corner of your eye you could see something moving after you spoke. Glancing his way you realized it was his tail wagging. “What a coincidence! I'm on my way to get a tree too!” He said smiling, his eyes not leaving you. As if he could pull them away, how could he when you looked so cute bundled up in that jacket. “That makes things easier then.” A chuckle left your lips as you talked causing his tail to wag again. 

Pulling into the store's parking lot you tried to find a spot closer to the front, you didn’t want to walk far in the snow. You were glad the plow trucks already came or else you would have turned around and gone home. “Want to do our shopping together? I find shopping more fun when you have someone with you.” Walter offered looking down at your shorter frame, he was just so damn tall it made you feel so small. “I don’t see why not, it makes leaving easier sense we rode here together.” Your agreement made his tail wag again, you assumed it was because he was glad he didn’t have to shop alone. 

Going in you were about to grab a cart when Walter beat you to it, stepping in front of you. “I got it, you drove me here, buying your things is the least I can do.” He said pulling out a cart, as you began to protest he held up a paw stopping you. “I insist, please.” That managed to get you to quiet down. “Alright fine, I was only going to get the tree though.” That wasn't fully true, you were looking forward to getting a shit ton of junk food and eat your feelings but you didn’t want him spending a bunch of money so you would just have to get them for your next shopping trip. Walking next to Walter you soon learned you should be walking a few steps ahead of him after you consistently got hit on the mid back by his wagging tail. It seemed almost every thing made his tail wag. A good deal on something? Tail wagging. Something he wanted was back in stock? Tail wagging again. A song he liked started playing on the store's radio? You guessed it, tail wagging. It would have been very entertaining if you weren’t in the line of fire of his wagging tail. The thing hit harder than you thought it would. You weren’t even sure he noticed he kept hitting you with it as he happily rambled on about deals going on. Seeing his cart was getting more and more filled, you started to worry a little about how much he was spending that you yourself hadn’t noticed how he kept asking if you liked certain snacks. The ones that got a positive from you went into the cart, ones you didn’t like very much went back on the shelf. Once the cart was filled to the brim with snacks, the two of you made your way away from the food area. Walter was making his way to the outdoor section for a real tree and you made a turn to the Christmas decor to get a fake tree. Noticing you weren’t next to him Walter stopped and looked around for you. Spotting you walking in a different direction he turned the cart and followed you catching up quickly thanks to his larger size. “Trees aren’t over here silly.” He said, chuckling softly. “Oh uh I was just going to get a fake one, I don’t feel like getting a real one this year.” You explained shrugging lightly as you looked up at him. “Really? Why not?” He was confused on why someone wouldn’t want a real tree. “Just doesn’t feel right getting a real tree if it’s just me, no point to it.” The effort didn’t seem worth it to you, why bother if no one was going to help with any part of itWalter’s ears flattened as his shoulders visibly dropped hearing what you had to say about getting a real tree. “Oh… there really isn’t a point for me to get a real tree this year either. Just got one every year. I didn't think about not getting one.” His voice held a sad tone as his eyes lowered to the ground, tail long stopped wagging now was tucked between his legs. 

You felt like an asshole when it hit you. This was his first christmas since his divorce, it was most likely his first christmas alone in years if not his first ever one alone. Mentally cursing yourself you raced to think of something to make this all better. “How about I spend Christmas with you? So then you can still get a real tree?” You blurted out with wide panicked eyes. Hearing that his ears perked up as he looked up at you. It was an immediate change in his demeanor, tail wagging much faster as it had been before he stood up taller. “Really? You would spend Christmas with this old fluff ball?” He asked, stepping closer to you. The closeness really putting it in your mind just how much bigger he was than you were. Gulping nervously you nodded your head, mind still reeling from your own actions. Walter swooped you up and spun you around in one fluid motion squeezing you tight. You had only seen him do this with his family before, not once had he ever with you. Stopping he looked down at you with a big smile on his face as his tail wagged a mile a minute. “Um Walter?” You spoke up after an agonizingly long moment like this. He responded with a soft hum as he leaned his snot in closer. The hot air of his breath grazed against your face sending shivers all over your body. “We’re in the middle of the store, remember?” He had seemed to have forgotten this. Lifting his head he looked around seeing there were people giving the two of you strange looks. “Whoops, got a little excited there.” Walter apologized, setting you back down on the ground. His tail hadn’t slowed down one bit. You feared he might form a tornado with how much his tail stirred up the air around him. “Well come on then, let’s go get that tree!” He said, grabbing your hand with his paw. You couldn’t help but stare at your hand intertwined with his paw. When the two of you had first met he had shaken your hand and at the time you noticed in that brief moment how soft his paw pads were. Holding his paw for much longer you really got a good feel of just how soft they were. It wasn’t just soft, no they were squishy too. You wondered if he would let you play with them some time. As your mind wondered about his soft paws your thoughts slowly grew to wonder how they would feel on other parts of your body. Catching yourself before the thoughts grew more impure as they had already gotten you shook your head trying to shoo them away. 

Walter hadn’t noticed this and you were damn glad of it. He just kept pushing the cart around with one paw as he walked much slower than he had before. You were walking slower too, it was the pace you usually had. It took you a moment longer than you would like to admit when it clicked with you that he was walking slower for your sake. Smiling softly to yourself you looked away wanting to put your focus anywhere else than Walter. Making your way into the out door section you shivered feeling an especially harsh gust of wind hit you causing you to brace yourself from the cold. It stung at your eyes making you close them tight. Expecting more wind to hit, you braced yourself again turning a little but stopped when you felt Walters paw leave your hand and wrap around you not a moment later pulling you into his side. “Look at you shivering like a chihuahua. You don’t got no way to keep you warm. Here stay close to me, I'll keep you warm.” Walter said, leaning against you. It was just so warm you couldn’t find the will to fight him on it and just accepted his embrace. Lucky for you, you were able to hide your smile by burying your face in the side of his coat, plus it kept your already freezing nose out of the snow. Walking to the trees with him Walter quietly hummed along to the song currently playing through the store's speakers. You left the tree finding to him. It seemed he knew what he was doing while you were clueless on the matter. It was obvious when he found the right tree as he excitedly moved from one paw to the other. You tried to stifle a laugh at the sight of a werewolf doing tippy tappys.  As much as you didn’t want to pull away from his warmth you knew he wouldn’t be able to drag the tree through the store while pushing the cart and also holding onto you but when you went to move away from him his grip on you tightened pulling you in closer to him. “We can still check out here right?” He called out to the one employee working gardening, they nodded their head yes. “Oh good we’ll check out here and take everything straight to the car.” Walter said, picking the tree up. “Can you come scan this for us?” He asked, holding the tree up. Walter was making things harder for himself, he should let go, why wasn’t he letting go? Looking down at you he smiled softly as he gave you a gentle squeeze. “Step onto the cart I’ll push you around, that way you can still be nice and warm.” Oh… you hadn’t thought about that, could work. Without a word you stepped up onto the cart holding onto the cart's handle bar for support. The moment you felt Walter press his chest against your back you lost every ability to breathe. You didn’t think this through. Being this close to him like this in this position? You're glad it was cold, you could blame your face being so red. 

Standing there on the cart trapped from all sides, oh boy did it make you feel things you shouldn't.

Next few minutes were a blank for you too deep in your ever growing thoughts as Walter checked out all his groceries and paid for it all. You could hear him hum again as he started walking to your car. The parking lot was quite bumpy causing the cart and you in turn to raddle like crazy. That is until Walter pressed his chest against your back stopping your shaking. His muzzle was right next to your ear. You could feel his hot breath on your neck. It sent a flood of dirty thoughts into your mind, a gasp left your lips before you could stop it. You prayed to any god out there that he didn't hear it. If he had he hadn't said anything. 

What he did notice was how your scent had changed, grown more aroused. You realized something was up when he suddenly pressed his nose to your neck and took a deep breath in. A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he inhaled your scent. The moment he caught himself doing that he pulled away in a jerking motion. “I um…” He stammered trying to think of an excuse. “I like your body wash. What is it? Daisys?” Walters heart was practically beating out of his chest, you could feel it against your back. “No uh sweat pea actually. Was on sale.” You answered in a quiet voice trying to possess what just happened. “Ah, sales love them.” He mumbled softly.

The rest of the ride home was completely silent. Neither of you baring to speak after that little incident. Pulling into his driveway you put your car in park and quietly gulped. The two of you sat in silence a few minutes more before Walter finally broke the silence. “Want to come in and decorate the tree with me?” He asked, looking at you through the corner of his eye gauging your reaction. Thinking about it you lightly chewed the bottom of your lip. Oh what the hell, what's the worst thing that could happen? “Sure.” Your answer made his tail wagged as he lit up with a bright smile. What could happen? You weren't sure what but you wanted it.

[anothertimdrakestan]

Jealous Jason Todd Headcanon

~loooong requested hope you enjoy some brotherly competition~

- jason had no idea he wanted you until dick called "dibs" the first night he met jason's mysterious "friend" and newest bat-recruit

- at first, jason didn't care. like at all. but that never stopped him from being an asshole

- "my brother y/n really? what's there to like? i didn't see you as a musical theatre and dad-joke enjoyer" he'd scoff anytime dick tried to make a move

- that didn't stop richard fucking grayson.

- "hey! y/n! fancy seeing you here!" .. "it's the batcave dick i work here" .. "oh, well are you working all night? maybe we can grab some big belly burger after?" .. "we have patrol together you dork"

- honestly, it was endearing being adored, worshipped even. from handwritten poems, to a little mini batarang necklace, and all the weapons your heart could desire

- and for all his dork-tendencies, dick knew a thing or too about hand placement...

- "put me down richard" .. "you literally fell into my arms" .. "i would've landed on my feet" .. "sure princess, but aren't my arms a little better?" he'd tease, sweeping you bridal style out the back door of the gala you two had just rescued

- it was somewhere in between the gift giving, rooftop dates, and stolen glances that jason realized he might want -slightly, just a tiny bit- more.

- okay; he wanted you all to himself.

- but he's always been shit at explaining it

- where dick was obvious and flirtatious, jason started subtle: always inching closer to you, keeping a longing gaze set on your every move-even if it meant tripping himself up in battles- you noticed he would sooner get shot than let you catch a scrape

- and just like dick's coddling, it got annoying

- "jace i've been on the team for months, i think i can watch out for myself" .. "i know, i protect the people i care about" his response was almost a whisper, and before you could pry further, he disappeared, replaced with a familiar cheesy grin "hi y/n! wanna catch a movie tonight?" .. "uh, one sec dick! i need to check on jace"

- but jason was never anywhere to be found. every time he let you in, he disappeared just as quick.

- when you started toying with new weaponry jason was there, you still got butterflies remembering the way he pressed himself against you while fixing your form, his calloused fingertips lighting fires as he subtly adjusted your grip on your gun

- "jay is this right?" .. "mhm your grip is perfect, but the recoil will get you, slide your leg backwards to brace for the impact of firing" .. the minute his hand touched your thigh a shiver ran across your body, against your shaking will .. "oh, sorry i didn't mean to-" .. you cut him off "no it's good, you're good" but before you could turn around to unpack the cloud of tension in the room, jason cleared his throat and gruffly said "fire" ruining any chance of an emotional conversation. three perfect shots to the targets, and with a satisfying nod he was gone once again

- so when dick asked you out on a real date, to a restaurant whose menu alone gave you anxiety at the thought of ordering, you realized you had to give jason the ultimatum

- but for once in his (second) life, jason was way ahead of you.

- "you said yes to dick?" jason was sitting at your desk when you entered your own room, overly dramatic but it was jason todd after all.

- "do i have a reason to say no?"

- "you hate fancy restaurants. you need like a week to plan what you'll order otherwise you'll just be stressed the whole time"

- you rolled your eyes, but jason wasn't finished: "and you hate movies, sitting in one place watching a film you probably haven't heard of, pretending to enjoy the nuance"

- he wasn't wrong. "whatever jace, that doesn't-" .. "i can tell you what's gonna happen. he'll order a wine too sweet for your taste, and talk to the waiter enough to make you want to crawl under the table. then after a perfectly lovely dinner he'll take you to a rooftop to 'show you the sights' and you'll have your first kiss. but you hate the city skyline, it reminds you you're far from home. you like the sound of the ocean and the rusting of the forest. you like something real."

- your heart was in your throat. but you needed something more: "say it jason. don't tell me the future with dick. fucking say it."

- jason stood up, closing the distance between you, eyes now desperate and wild: "say what? that i've loved you since the minute i lost you? that i feel like ive known you forever? that i don't need to learn to love you like he does, i was built for it? that i feel like i was made for you? how do i put it in a few useless words"

- "you just did jay." you whispered, letting him lock his lips in yours with a smile.

- "please go break richard's fucking heart and come home to me." he grumbled, to which you agreed, letting dick down softly and promising to set him up with one of your friends in return for his kindness- a deal which he wouldn't let you forget

- years later, it was more of a household joke, dick claiming he was the catalyst to your and jason's lovestory. to which jason wholly despised, but you never minded giving dick a little credit

[appleblueberry-pie]

Honestly trauma bonding is the way to go 😌✨

Reader who adopted a child and loved them more than anything in the world, since she had no family or pets (being spiderwoman is a sacrifice, after all.).

Reader's Green Goblin killed their child brutally in front of her, leaving Reader with immense trauma and depression. (After torturing and then killing GG in the same gruesome way as he did with her child)

Reader who abandons being a Spider-person and goes back to her old job, being a professional gymnast.

Miguel who finds Reader's world, and asks who there isn't a Spider there if the canon event of the radioactive spider biting someone happened long ago.

Miguel who investigating, finds out that Reader is the spider there, however they abandoned their heroic life (mostly because of backlash from the media)

Miguel who one day goes to Reader's house to get answers, first explaining who he is and what the fuck that orange portal is 💀

Miguel understands how Reader feels and explains his backstory, and persuades (forces) Reader to join the Spider Society.

Miguel, that slowly falls in love with Reader and turns into an obsession. Maybe in the future, he can give Reader his kids so they won't have to grieve as much for their dead kids.

You were meant for him.

He shouldn't say that, but no bone or muscle in his entire body disagreed with this statement that he is claiming.

He fell in love with you before he even realized it and happily accepted the fall, knowing just from how you spoke to him, that you know how to love. You love the way that he wants to be loved. And he wants that. He wants you.

He was so goddamn in love with everything about you. He loves the way you speak, the way you carry yourself, the way you look at people, and the way you look at him.

He wants those eyes on him all of the time. So, he tries to work for it.

You looked so tired every single day. Since he found you alone in your apartment of your universe, he knew you held luggage no one else had behind them.

He wanted to at least take half of the weight off of your shoulders. He wanted to brush the midnight tears off of your face. He wanted kiss your callused hands. He wanted to have you.

He truly believes he can fix you.

"There is no fixing me. Nobody can save me."

He had never been so tuned into a conversation before. Mask off, sitting across from you in your living room, on the edge of his seat, staring into your iron eyes. You didn't want to let anyone back in again.

Hearing about your past only made him more determined.

"I can't put that suit back on again.....no. I killed enough people and killed off enough of myself. I don't benefit from that life anymore. Hell, my own city that I fought for doesn't want me anymore. Why the fuck would I even bother trying??" You try to laugh it off and killed the rest of your drink.

"The only person that could make me put that back on is the one I did all of this bullshit for."

You let the silence grow for a little to collect the words building up in your throat. But to speak it was a different battle.

"S/he was mine. S/he was all I had. Every day I had to wake up and go to sleep seeing her/his face, and it's all I needed to continue living another fucking day. And s/he's gone! I thought sparing lives would do me good, and now my babygirl/boy is gone. What the fuck am I supposed to do?" You whispered the words, as if it was forbidden to even speak them aloud.

And every single word you spoke made Miguel feel like he was living in your skin. Every question you asked, everything you said you felt is so close to experience of losing his little girl, it makes him nauseous. He only knew you for a few hours and already wanted to hold you in his arms.

"I can't....I just...can't put that thing back on. I really can't. I'm sorry." Your words slowly turned into a mutter as you fidgeted with your hands.

He doesn't know how many hopeful "yes, you can"s he whispered back to you with comforting (consensual) hugs before you had on that damned suit again and was in the middle of HQ.

His room was quiet. Peaceful, as he typed away on his technology you weren't interested in at all.

You felt so naked in the suit, but for some reason, it made you feel more secure than you'd ever felt these past few years......maybe this would be okay for now.

Miguel looked back at you, seeing you staring off into the distance and stopped typing to place his hand on your shoulder.

You looked up at him with those sad, tired eyes. Just seeing your face as clearly as it was, it continued to give him hope to be the one to support your during your healing process. You clearly needed the help. And if anyone could do it well, he was certain that it would be him.

[lumosinlove]

Here is my first day of O'Knutzy Week! @oknutzy-week-2024

I ADORE you all for treating these characters of mine to a week of fun. I can't even put into words how much it means to me. I'm so looking forward to reading your creations!

Please enjoy tennis boys...

(There is an extremely brief and not at all graphic description of injury in the beginning.)

Finn O’Hara’s career was ended too soon by a bad knee injury. Logan Tremblay has no coach and a wicked temper that’s hard to control on the court—that is, until O’Hara steps into the picture.

On The Line - Part One

Logan was on a massage table when he saw. He’d been feeling a little stupid. He had been meant to be watching Finn’s game, studying his flaws and his strengths. Instead his cheek was pressed to the towel beneath him while someone dug their knuckles into his calf, and he was watching a bead of sweat find the corner of Finn’s mouth in a close up shot.

“This feel all right?” Hands were on his ankle now.

No, Logan thought, eyes on Finn. This feels like I’m going insane.

“Yes,” Logan said faintly. “Merci.”

Finn had his usual blue Nike hat on, and when he took it off before he served to wipe his face, Logan could see the white, salty sweat stains inside. How long had he had that hat? Logan remembered seeing it in Juniors. How many brand deals had its necessity written into it? Client insists upon…

Logan wanted that hat. He wanted to hold it.

Finn served. A perfect bullet of a thing that sent goosebumps up Logan’s shoulders, but Lupin still returned. It was second set, Finn had won the first. He was set to win this one, too.

Logan’s hotel room door opened and Logan didn’t look up. People came and went every hour of every day. This time, it was, Luke, his closest friend on tour besides Finn, and a room service cart of grilled chicken and broccoli. Logan eyed the chocolate cake slice there, too. One benefit of not having a coach or any sort of team following him around like the others did. He could eat whatever he wanted.

Luke leaned over to see his eyes. “Pascal Dumais is in the lobby. Black’s coach? I was thinking—”

“Non.” Finn was sitting in his chair now, drinking water. He turned and said something to the young ball kid holding an umbrella over him. Logan bit back a smile watching the ball kid do the same. Finn let his own grin cross his face.

Stop it, Logan thought. Stopitstopitstopit.

“He might know someone who you’d like to work with.”

“Non.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Logan.”

“I don’t want a coach, Luke.” Logan tore his eyes away from Finn. “I’ve told you this one thousand times.”

Black served, and Finn returned, letting out a soft sound while doing it. Stop it. He’s your best friend.

“Don’t you think it could help you?” Luke asked. “Just talk to him, Tremz. Honestly, look, I certainly don’t want you getting any better. I have my own career to think about. But you’re my friend and your temper costs you thousands alone—”

There was a shout from the TV. A horrible, gut-wrenching sound that any athlete could identify. Someone had gone down.

“O’Hara runs for—” said a commentator. “Oh. Oh, oh, oh dear.”

Logan pushed himself up on his hands, dislodging the massage therapist from his back. Luke snapped towards the television, too.

“Shit,” Luke whispered.

Logan couldn’t have managed words if he tried.

Finn was on the ground, first on his back and then rolling helplessly onto his side, his hands locked around his knee. The cry had come from him. Lupin dropped his racket and ran across the court. Logan got one last look at Finn’s face before his view was blocked by the flock of medics surrounding him.

“That…does not look good,” said the therapist and began working again. Logan hardly felt the knuckles against his shoulders.

His heart was pounding. When another sound came from Finn, wrecked and in so, so much pain, Logan flinched.

The hands on his back disappeared in a flash. “Mr. Tremblay, I’m so sorry, did I—are you hurt?”

The camera caught every frantic rise and fall of Finn’s chest. Another close up. Sweat beaded on Finn’s forehead for an entirely different reason and the grimace of pain. His teeth were pressed together, eyebrows drawn. His fall had knocked the blue hat off and his dark red hair looked vivid and bright against the hard court.

Yes, Logan thought. Everything in him was on fire and begging to get that look off Finn’s face. Yes, I’m hurt.

~

Logan knew what the headline would be before he even saw it. Logan Tremblay fined $15,000 for skipping his mandatory press conference to go visit injured Finn O’Hara in hospital.

Finn knew it, too. No sooner had Logan made it through the door than was Finn throwing ice chips at him.

“What the fuck, Lo?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Fifteen thousand dollars.”

“I think I can afford it.” Logan dragged a chair over from the wall, sat, and didn’t plan on getting up until he knew Finn was going to be all right.

Finn looked exhausted, but the worry on his face was worse. His countless freckles looked stark in the hospital room light. Logan tried to see past it, into the bright eyes that had looked at him for the first time when they were sixteen. This face…Finn. Finn, who Logan had been longing for ever since.

Finn smiled weakly at him. His hands were knotted up in his sweatshirt. His knee was bandaged and elevated on a pillow.

“You could have waited an hour,” Finn said.

Logan didn’t know how to tell him no. No, he couldn’t wait. An hour would have been torture.

Finn cracked a smile. “But I guess you would have cursed out a reporter and made it twenty thousand.”

Logan couldn’t help it. He smiled back. Where he was bad with words, Finn was understanding. Sometimes Logan thought Finn could read him with just one look.

“Remember Rome?” Finn asked. “Where we met?”

Logan closed his eyes. Finn read his mind with just one look. “Of course.”

“I was dreaming about it, I think, when they put me under.”

“What, me beating you?”

Finn laughed and Logan had to look away. He reached out and brushed light fingers against the bundle of bandages.

“No.” Finn sighed and leaned his head back against the pillows. “That pool. And that wine.”

The almost kiss, Logan thought. One look at Finn, who was smiling slightly, and he knew he’d been read again.

“It was a good night,” Logan said.

Finn nodded. “Hm.” He tilted some ice chips into his mouth and crunched them. “Ended a little soon for my taste.”

Logan smothered a smile with his hand over his mouth. He wasn’t sure why they danced around it. It wasn’t like it wasn’t allowed. Male players dated female players all the time. Only, they never had to play against each other.

They listened to the buzz of the lights. A nurse came and went with water and pain medication. On top of the sheets, their hands found each other. Finn’s was cold from holding the ice and Logan encased it in his own.

Quietly, Finn said, “I think it’s over.”

“It’s not over.”

“I think it is.” Finn’s eyes were on his knee. “It’s not good, Lo. It’s just…It’s not good.”

“How long?”

“I’ll heal up okay, but…But knees are fragile and this isn’t the first time I’ve had a problem. Well, this is more than a problem, but…”

“Give it time.”

“That’s not what they told me.”

“It’s not over. Your game is too beautiful to be over.” You’re too…

Finn’s lip trembled. “Thanks.”

Logan wanted to fix it. Now. Now.

But Finn was Finn and so he let out a slow breath and tilted his chin up. “Maybe it’s okay.”

“It’s…okay?”

He closed his eyes. “I’m alone in hotels. I mean, besides my coach, besides the trainers. But that’s what this life feels like sometimes. People telling you where to go and sleeping in strange beds.” Finn looked down, then carefully back at Logan. “I love the game. God, I do. But…maybe I want something different now. I mean, a family. A…a partner.”

Logan’s stomach tightened. Finn, off somewhere, with—with someone. With someone. Someone who didn’t know him. The possessiveness that burned through Logan’s chest ached.

“It takes a specific kind of person to want to live this kind of life,” Finn said.

“Why do you think I work alone?” Logan said.

Finn huffed out a laugh. “I mean someone who’s separate from tennis.”

It was a slap. It was a knife. “Do you…do you want them to be separate from tennis?”

Finn sighed. “I want them to love me. So many players have people who follow them, and are with them, but are they with them? It’s all about the player’s dreams. Tennis. What they want. I mean, I’m racing towards…titles. Yes. And I love it but, I want to make sure I can—you know. I want to make sure my person isn’t ignored. I want it to be equal.” He looked at his knee, seemed like he wanted to speak again, but didn’t. 

Logan just held his hand and tried not to say anything stupid.

“Don’t you get lonely?” Finn asked softly. “With no coach, no team…”

“I have the game,” Logan replied. “The titles. And you.”

“Maybe me.”

“And you,” Logan said fiercely. “And Luke.” Finn rolled his eyes and Logan couldn’t help but laugh. “Why do you hate Luke so much?”

“I don’t. He’s just…always around.”

Logan laughed harder. “He’s on tour with us.”

Finn’s fingers tightened around his. “Maybe I like having you to myself.”

Logan was going to cry, suddenly and blubberingly. Finn not on tour. Please no.

Finn saw it and gave him a smile, even as his own eyes filled. “Maybe I will be your coach.”

Logan half laughed, half wiped his nose. “Think I’d listen to you?”

There was no hesitation and almost no sadness when Finn answered, “Yes.”

~

Over the next months, Logan was introduced to tour life without Finn. Luke was great, and they hit together, but he wasn’t Finn. He was too serious to be Finn, and Logan had enough seriousness all on his own. Finn, who’d dump the entire pitcher of ice water on Logan’s head just for fun. Finn, who made them take breaks to go find a nice lunch spot in a part of a city they hadn’t been before.

They spoke on the phone. For the first little while, Finn sounded miserable. In pain. But then he started to sound better. He started talking about how much time he had to read, to sleep. To actually watch the game he loved so much. He’d dissect all of Logan’s opponents for him and—and Logan was winning. A lot. It just made him miss Finn more. The money was good, but he had more than enough money. The trophies got sent back to his home in LA, but he was never home.

Logan distracted himself. He got himself up each morning and went through his routine. The hotel staff of whatever hotel he was in brought him a smoothie. He ran. He hit with Luke until Luke’s coach didn’t like how fast Logan could take apart Luke’s game. Then it was just Logan and a random hitter he’d been assigned. He ate room service and watched game tape. It only took him a week to realize he was always waiting for that knock on his door. That Finn knock. Bum-bum-ba-bum. Let’s go, Tremblay, get out of your head for a bit.

By the time four months had past, he thought he’d die if he didn’t hear it.

“I miss you,” Logan said quietly one night, eyes on his dark ceiling. It was so bad, this waiting for Finn, that sometimes that he had to pause and press a hand to his chest. He’d actually asked the physicians about it, just in case he was mistaking missing Finn for an actual problem. They had looked at him funny, told him everything looked and sounded perfectly normal.

What hurts? one had asked.

Nothing. Logan had said. I just wanted to make sure.

Now, in the cool hotel room, the rustle of Finn’s breath on the other end of the line made Logan close his eyes.

“I miss you, too,” Finn said. “A lot. Congrats against Knut, by the way. He a fucking rocket. And he’s only going to get better, what is he, twenty-two?”

“Something like that. I only barely beat him.”

“Sure, but you did.”

“Thanks to you,” Logan said. “I never play better than when we’ve talked about it.”

“Well.” Finn sounded proud. “Hey, you know, I’ll be cleared to travel soon. I might not be playing but I could—”

“Yes,” Logan said. “Please.”

Please, please, please.

Finn laughed. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Please come.”

More rustling. Finn lying down in bed?

“Okay,” Finn said. “Okay, I will.”

Logan rolled onto his side, cradling the phone close. “Hurry.”

“As fast as I can. I’ll look for hotels tonight.”

“No, don’t stay somewhere else.”

“Lo, I can afford your hotel with sponsors, but not like this. I’m not you.”

“No, I mean stay with me.”

This big, cold hotel suite. Logan wandered through the rooms, floated between the hot courts and this cold, cold marble.

Silence on the other line. Logan’s heart picked up, until he heard a breath that he was sure had a smile in it.

“All right.” Finn let out a laugh that sounded like it was covered by his hand. “Okay.”

Logan had to smother his smile in his pillow. “Okay.”

They stayed on the line for what felt like hours—probably minutes—breathing and listening to each other and nothing at all. Completely quiet, but it was the most not alone Logan had felt in weeks.

Finn arrived, suitcase and backpack and those massive headphones that used to be Logan’s. He knocked on Logan’s door. Bum-bum-ba-bum. He looked tired from the plane ride. He opened his mouth to say something, a grin on his face. It was probably going to be something sarcastic.

But Logan launched himself into his arms, clinging tightly around his neck.

Finn grunted out a laugh, but held him back. “Hey, hey.”

Finn rubbed a hand up and down his back once. When had Logan last been touched in a way that wasn’t medical? Finn’s hand cupped the back of his neck and Logan knew he went weak against him but he couldn’t help it. Finn didn’t seem to mind. He held Logan’s weight. It was the middle of the night anyway, Logan could blame it on that.

“Have you been up?” Finn asked. “You need your sleep.”

“I couldn’t miss your knock.”

Finn’s hands stilled. He pressed his fingers into Logan’s spine, right where he was always sore. “I would have…I would have banged the door down.”

Logan laughed and pulled back. He realized how long he had been holding onto him, that he was still holding on. He let go, suddenly bashful.

“I can call for food,” Logan said. “Are you hungry? I mean, come in first.” He laughed, stumbled a little as he stepped back. “Come in.”

He watched Finn drop his bags onto the floor and look around. The main living room was the size of three hotel rooms. The bedrooms were spacious and had a connecting master bath. There was a kitchenette that all of Logan’s sponsors had stocked with snacks and the various energy bars and drinks they represented. Logan hated energy bars. Grainy and chewy. He brought cups of fruit onto the court with him instead and didn’t care how unhappy it made anyone. Logan watched Finn walk around. He’d left his rooms sort of a mess. Finn avoided the various piles of sponsor clothing without comment. He touched the two Rolex watches Logan was expected to put on during post-game interviews and press conferences. Those were supposed to be in the closet safe. He brushed his fingers over Logan’s secret favorite sweatshirt which was draped over the back of the couch—it was Adidas, which he wasn’t allowed. If he ever got caught on camera in it, it would be horrible. He only wore it alone, inside. Or with Finn.

“Must be nice to be number two in the world,” Finn said.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s okay.”

I miss you. I miss youImissyou.

Finn smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

“Shut up,” Logan laughed. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” Finn said.

And, suddenly, Logan had new nights. The days were the same. He left Finn with his crutches and his ice packs and his rehabilitation routine to practice and prepare for his next match. But his nights. Card games with Finn on the balcony. Get out of your head, Tremblay. We’re relaxing now. You’re with me. Video games, side by side on the couch. Dinner in the hotel restaurant, or somewhere in a city that Finn had found. Laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. So happy that it became a blur of one day, I am going to kiss you. Please, let me kiss you one day.

That morning after he won Indian Wells, he sat poolside with Finn and everything was almost perfect.

“You know what I wish Nike would do for once?” Finn said.

“What?” Logan looked over his sunglasses at Finn.

“Dress you in your colors.”

Logan looked over at Finn and laughed. They were poolside, cooling off from a morning run back at the hotel. Well, Logan had run. Finn and his bad knee had rode beside Logan in a golf cart and shouted encouragement far too gleefully.

Now, Finn had a duffle bag in front of him and was ripping into the stuff Nike had sent over for the French Open. Red shirt. Blue shorts. White piping.

“French fucking flag.” Finn sighed. “Typical.”

“I’m French,” Logan replied. “It’s my home court, in Paris.”

“I know you are, but it’s typical.”

Logan smiled, popping another macadamia nut into his mouth. They were good. Spicy and salted. The guy that had brought them a pitcher of lemony ice water had set them down, too. “And what’s my color, then?”

Finn reached over the side table between them and pulled Logan’s sunglasses off his face. “Take a look in the fucking mirror.”

Logan snatched the glasses back. Green, he guessed. Logan rolled those eyes and Finn smiled at him.

For a moment, Logan imagined Finn bracing his hands on the sides of Logan’s hips. They’d dip into the mesh of the lounge chair and bring Finn even closer when he kissed him.

Everything was almost perfect.

Logan put his glasses back on. “Just wait until Paris,” Logan said. “It will be more red and blue than you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because I’m going to win.”

Clay surfaces were his home. What more did he need?

They flew together to Paris. Finn’s knee was healing, but Logan didn’t let him carry anything. Not his backpack, not their food for the plane.

“You’re worse than my mom was when she came to visit,” Finn said.

They were taken to a new hotel, a new grand suite. If the manager that personally showed them around gave them a particular sort of look, Logan didn’t care. Finn certainly didn’t seem to care. He spent a good part of the tour with his arm thrown around Logan’s shoulder. Forgot my crutch, he said. Need someone to take some of my weight.

Logan was still smiling about that as he made his way along the buffet station at breakfast the next morning. Finn had used the trick again. Knee’s sore, Lo, won’t you make my plate for me? Logan didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed anything more than picking out Finn’s favorites. He was so focused on finding the perfect burnt pieces of bacon that he didn’t even see the waffle flying out of tongs and towards him until it was on his plate.

“Shoot, I’m so sorry, oh my God, I didn’t…oh.”

Logan looked up and the voice—and up. Blond, was his first thought, quickly followed by blue.

It was Leo Knut. Six-foot-something, wicked serve, one-handed backhand, American. Younger than Logan. Rumored to be poised to break all the records. Logan’s, Black’s, anyone’s. And he’d be around longer to do it.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said, truly looking apologetic, and for a moment Logan thought he was talking about the records. Leo looked down at the waffle. “I don’t know if you want that, but…there you go.”

“It’s…fine,” Logan said uncertainly. “It’s fine.”

Leo smiled at him. “Okay… Hey, I don’t think we’ve officially met besides…” Me beating you, Logan thought. “I’m Leo.”

“Ouais, I know.”

Leo laughed. “Oh. Well, that’s a little dream come true for my younger self.”

Logan tilted his head. “Oh.” He was pretty used to that. And he guessed it was a compliment—even if he was technically being called old. Also, for some reason he was blushing.

“And you’re…” Leo raised his eyebrows.

“You know who I am, you just said.”

“All right…” Leo’s blue eyes looked him up and down. “Well. Enjoy the waffle. And good luck.”

“You too,” Logan said, and headed towards the orange juice.

When he got back to their table, Finn was looking at him with amused eyes.

“Quoi?” Logan asked. “Shut up, what?”

Finn laughed. “Nothing. Nothing, just…”

“Quoi?”

Finn laughed and held up his hands. “You’re a really nice person, but not many would think it upon meeting you.”

Logan blinked. He looked over at Knut, who was sitting with one of the Black brothers. “What? I was—I was nice. You don’t even know what I said, you were over here!”

“You had his statistics you were thinking about all over that pretty face of yours.”

“I…” Pretty face. “He gave you a waffle.”

“Oh-ho,” Finn picked up his fork. “Yeah, I saw what happened. Octopus limbs, that’s what that one has.” Finn cut himself some waffle. “It was kind of sweet.”

Logan stared at him. Sweet?

Blond. Blue. Sweet.

“What is his accent?”

“Louisiana,” Finn said around some bacon.

“Lou…ouais-ana.” Logan caught Finn smiling again. “What?”

“I just like the way you talk, that’s all.”

~

“Me again,” Finn said later that night, tossing down his cards with a grin.

Logan groaned. “This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Ha, why? Because you’re not winning? You gonna curse me out like you do on the court?”

Logan rolled his eyes. He offered Finn another pour of wine.

“Oo-way.”

Logan could hear the pop-pop of one of a game of table tennis from somewhere. Finn kept glancing towards the sound—even while winning.

“Do you miss it?” Logan asked quietly. He put his card down without really looking at it. He was too focused on this new, slightly unhappy set of Finn’s jaw.

“Yeah,” Finn replied. “I mean, of course. It’s my life. Was.”

Logan nodded.

“But.” He smiled slightly. “This has been…really good, Lo. Really good for me. Thanks for letting me…” Finn glanced around balcony, then over at their suite. “Be here. I’ll need to find some way to pay you back.”

“Non,” Logan said. “You don’t.”

“I do,” Finn said. “I do. I don’t mean—I mean, I pay for the stray dinner but I—”

Logan leaned forward and covered Finn’s hand with his. Their cards mingled and showed between them, but Logan didn’t care about the game.

“I don’t want your money,” Logan said. “I want you—here.”

Finn had his eyes on their hands.

Logan tried to think of a way to tell him that he’d been right. That he had been so unbearably lonely.

And then his phone started to ring.

Logan closed his eyes when he caught sight of the number. “Stupid sponsors.”

Finn cracked a smile and let Logan’s hands go. “Who?”

“My agent. Probably about…” Logan flashed the Rolex he was wearing. “I forgot to put it on last press conference.”

Finn hummed and raised his glass of wine to his lips. “Looks good on you, though.”

Logan took the call inside and blushed the entire time.

~

The crowd was on his side. It was his home crowd. France adored him. He couldn’t walk through the city without being cheered—even sometimes from passing bicycles.

Finn was in his box. Finn, who the commentators had started referring to as Logan’s unofficial coach. Over the last months, they practiced together, Finn shouting advice and commands—bolder and bolder. He ran Logan through drills that used muscles Logan hadn’t even thought of before. Logan was in better shape than he’d ever been in his life, that annoying twinge in his ankle was gone. Not better—gone.

And he was still losing this final somehow. He’d made it this far and Black was wiping the floor with him, literally. Twice Logan had stumbled and fallen into the clay. He was covered in the stuff. His back, his butt, his face. Usually, he loved that. The grit. The taste. But he couldn’t shake this humiliation. The somewhat quiet crowd. This sense that, after such perfection he’d experienced lately, it was just a fluke. That he wasn’t enough.

At one of change-overs, he used his bathroom break. His fists were clenched, his teeth grit. He knew the cameras were just waiting for him to lose it like he always did.

But Finn was watching, right next to his sisters and his parents. He needed to get to the locker room. Then he could throw something.

No sooner had he shoved the door open and stepped inside, than Finn was there. He slipped in silently. Logan didn’t know how he’d gotten in, but there he was. Wearing his old, blue Nike hat and one of Logan’s Nike shirts. He was flushed from the sun and so infuriatingly calm. Hands in his pockets. Logan was standing in a second, throwing his own hat aside.

“I’m losing it,” Logan shouted. “Every fucking shot Black takes—”

But he didn’t get farther than that.

Finn took Logan’s face in his hands, none too gently. He got close. His brown eyes were fierce. Familiar. Logan went slack and quiet in his hold. For a moment, it was just their breathing.

“Get out,” Finn whispered and Logan could feel his breath against his cheek. “of your fucking head.”

And then Finn kissed him.

His mouth was warm. There was the bitter hint of sunscreen. The sweetness of the cinnamon gum he always chewed. Sweat. Logan felt himself stumbled, surprised. As quickly as Finn caught him around the waist, Logan was clutching at his shoulders. Yes. The word sped through and made his ears ring. Finn’s hands swiped down against his neck and then gripped his shirt, pulling back.

Logan was too surprised to chase him. Finn looked down at him, breathing just as hard.

“You are going to win,” Finn said harshly. He took his hat off and put it on Logan’s head, backwards how he liked it. And he let go. He turned and walked out.

Logan stood there. He touched his lips. Finn.

Slowly, he adjusted Finn’s hat. 

Finn.

He used the bathroom.

Finn.

He adjusted the sweatband on his wrist.

Finn.

He caught sight of himself in a locker room mirror. Where his cheek had hit the clay, Finn’s fingers had wiped streaks of red clay away. Like he was still touching Logan. Like he was all over him. People would probably expect him to wash his face while he was in here.

He didn’t.

The sun beat down on him as he walked back out onto the court. The crowd cheered, maybe for him, maybe that the game was picking up again. Logan didn’t care. All he knew was that he felt lighter. He could move easier, he could breathe. Even the sight of Black, waiting for him impatiently, didn’t phase him. Some killer, mentally crushing spell had been broken. Finn had broken him back into himself.

And when he won, Logan swore he heard Finn shout first, seconds before the stadium exploded. Like Finn had so much faith in him that he could see the perfect placement of the ball on Logan’s racket and sense its spin. He probably could. Logan fell down onto his back. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt the stadium thunder for him.

Trem-blay, Trem-blay!

What a come back, what a bloody come back, the commentators were probably saying.

He shook Black’s hand. He threw his wrist bands into the crowd. He kept Finn’s hat. Finn was standing there in the players box with his arms raised, his hands fists and the widest smile on his face. His sisters beside him were jumping up and down, hugging each other.

Fucking yes! Logan saw Finn’s mouth move around the words, reading his lips. He held out one of those fists to Logan, the same one that had gripped his t-shirt not too long ago. Yes, Lo.

Without thinking, Logan started to climb towards his box. He knew they were supposed to use the stairs now, but there was no time. He had to get to Finn. He had been so tired a moment ago that his muscles shook, but he couldn’t feel that now. He needed to get to them, to reach them. His sisters. His parents. Finn, who had changed his world. His entire world. In two seconds.

He felt some of the crowd reach out and touch him, grasping his shoulders. They were still chanting his name. He swung himself over the railing, nearly stumbling once, and then he was in Finn’s arms. Finn thumped him hard on the back and then knotted his fingers into Logan’s sweaty hair.

“I knew it,” Finn whispered hoarsely against his neck. “I fucking knew it, I’m so proud of you, oh God, I’m so fucking proud of you. Lo, I can’t even breathe, you played so well. You did it, your game, oh my God, your game—”

Logan closed his eyes and let Finn wash over him.

“Thank you,” Logan whispered. “Thank you, thank you…”

Finn pulled back to look at him, palm on his cheek. He was smiling so wide Logan thought it must hurt—he also knew the same expression was on his own face. Finn, who deserved it all. This. Logan had the wild, overwhelming urge to give Finn the trophy, the prize money, all of it. It was his.

Logan was so unquestionably Finn’s.

“Lo,” Finn said. There were tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”

He thought about kissing Finn right then and there.

He was enveloped by his sisters. They screamed in his ears and he laughed, loud and delirious.

Even having to give a speech couldn’t bring him down. He thanks the people he was told to thank, and then he thanked the people he wanted to thank. The crowd, he praised in French. In English, his parents. His sisters. And then—

“And—and Finn. My—” My? So many words filtered through Logan’s mind. English, French, it didn’t matter. “Who’s supported me and—” He kissed me. He kissed me. “I couldn’t have done it without any of you. Merci.”

He met Finn in the tunnel, confetti still on his shoulders, still holding his trophy. Finn laughed, let out a long whoop that brought people’s eyes and smiles towards them.

Logan held out the trophy. “Yours, too.”

“It’s not mine.”

Kiss me, Logan thought. Kiss me again. Finn looked like he might.

Instead, Finn just kissed the trophy where Logan had and then raised it above his head with another shout. A few people actually started clapping and Finn turned towards the sound with a grin.

“Okay,” Finn said, cradling the trophy against his side. “Go get on the bike.”

Logan just stared at him. He was still breathing hard. He could feel sweat trailing through the clay on his neck.

Finn pushed the trophy back into his arms and slapped him on the side of his ass. “Hello, what’s wrong with you, get on the bike before you get stiff—”

“If you think I can do anything but be alone with you right now,” Logan said in a low voice. Finn’s brown eyes widened. “You’re insane.”

Finn’s pupils were vast and black. He wet his lips. Slowly, he smiled.

“Get on the bike,” Finn whispered. “Then, we have a party to go to. And you’re the guest of honor.”

[auspicioustidings]

141 fighting each other to be the one whose lap reader sits on during a meeting or smth

CONGRATS ON 1kkkk

Thanks <3 Please find silly nonsense below!

Tomfoolery Senses

Words: 1k

CWs: Slightly spicy but nothing explicit

Honestly you shouldn’t even be on base, not with your knee being how it was. It was annoying as hell that the recovery time meant you were out of the field for the foreseeable, but they still needed you. You may not be able to run around with a gun right now, but tactical was always your strong point anyway so for now you attended meetings and made plans.

You walked into one such meeting and your tomfoolery senses immediately went off. There were too many glinting eyes for them not to have pulled something, and when you went to sit down you nearly laughed out loud at the bloody audacity. No empty seats. Strange since there should be some, almost as if someone had relocated them beforehand specifically for some ridiculous purpose.

“Ye can sit here bonnie!”

It took a moment for your brain to catch up. Soap was very much patting his lap in excitement. The last time you had ended up in that man's lap his hand had wandered during the entire meeting. You recalled being a mess by the end of it and Soap being very much like the cat who got the cream about it because he knew it meant when he followed to your room like a puppy you would let him in.

“Move your arse MacTavish, I’m injured and I need the seat.”

“Wouldnae dream of it! As ye’ll recall, I also have a dodgy knee. Only right for us tae stick together.”

“Surely you’re not asking them to sit on your dodgy knee then Johnny? Come on sweetheart, right here.”

You gave Ghost a bemused look. Soap you expected this from, but him? Actually no, you had very much been overwatch for 141 missions, this is exactly the kind of nonsense you expected of this idiot.

“Now I would love to, but weren’t you just telling me about your bad back? I seem to remember something about needing me to massage it. It would be irresponsible of me to risk making it worse.”

“Your massage fixed it right up actually" he replied, large hand patting thick thigh in further invitation.

You rolled your eyes. Your “massage” had lasted about a minute with you sincerely giving it your best effort before he had pinned you down and given you a very thorough massaging of his own. Only that one had done the opposite of fixing your back, if anything you'd say he had in fact blown it out.

“That so? You were complaining about it right before they walked in” Gaz said, smug as anything even while Ghost glared over at him.

“He's a lying git luv, obviously just looking to get a gorgeous thing in his lap. My lap, however, is neutral.”

You knew for a fact his lap was not neutral, not one bit. His lap was very much the kind of lap that you found yourself bouncing on anytime he got you alone and charmed you right into it. You could be in the middle of a training exercise, fully in the zone, and next thing you knew you were stuffed full of Kyle bloody Garrick in the middle of a safehouse where anyone could wander in at any moment. It wasn't like you were a big risk taker, but he could make you think anything was a good idea.

“A veritable Switzerland I'm sure.”

“Safest place to be really.”

“Look me in the eye and say that with a straight face then.”

Soap and Ghost groaned in tandem as you made the mistake of looking at Gaz. That bloody sunshine smile could sell ice in the Arctic and as such everyone usually avoided eye contact when they knew he wanted something. Charisma score above 20 that boy. Honestly these fuckers were the worst, but oh Gaz's big brown eyes were just smiling so gently at you and surely he would never do anything untoward. How could you look at this man and think he would ever manipulate you?

“Corporal, come ‘ere, that's an order.”

Gaz's sunshine expression turned to one of wry disbelief. He had been so close, you had been about to take a step towards him. It was awfully unsportsmanlike for Price to pull rank, something Gaz would be holding against him.

“So much for honour.”

“Cheeky fucker.”

“Just taking the piss Captain.”

It wasn't completely unfounded for Price to use his rank to get what he wanted when it came to you, it was why usually the others would try to get you away from him. Ghost did it sometimes too if he wasn't there and the Sergeants were. Although he didn't use it quite as thoroughly as Price did once he got you alone. The Captain was always happy to give you orders if only so he could punish you when you bit back, which you did often. Not because you enjoyed the punishment, that certainly wasn't it. You could not supply another reason, but that was besides the point.

“Well I suppose I have to since you're the Captain, unless there was someone that technically had more authority to give me orders” you said with a grin.

“Come on now pet, don't be like that, just come sit and we can start the meeting hm?” he said, using that voice that was right in the middle of soothing dominance and rough command in a last ditch effort.

“Of course Captain, just want to clear it with command first.”

Price sighed, glancing over and seeing that he had lost the fight when he was met with Kate's sly little smile. She was often your saviour when it came to these men. It helped that her and her lovely wife were both sweet on you. They had invited you round for dinner once or twice, and suffice to say the very delicious home cooked meals were not the only thing getting eaten. If there was one thing the men in the 141 hated more than losing to one another, it was losing to Laswell. She was always so annoyingly smug about being your favourite.

As you settled right down in her lap and both the meeting and Kate's hands gently massaging at your waist started, the 141 collectively thought that next time they'd better bring you a damn chair.

[kel-lance]

JJK Mafia Au (JJK x Reader) PART 2

Part 1

Warnings:- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Breeding, Ownership, Gaslighting, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more toxic sh.

Premise: Reader lives in a city where the two biggest gangs keep things line until the third gang showed up. That had nothing to do with you though, until dumb luck just happened to favor you one day. Basically You’re picked up and used by every dangerous criminal within the clans due to some alliances they had to create due to some members messing up the previous alliances. ((Almost everyone’s gonna have a turn 🤗)) ( i have 11 more chapters planned out right now meaning after i write those ill still be writing more.)

“We’re done for today.” The large man reaches for his robes. You don’t bother to move. Just breathing hurt. It was his off day and he was deciding to break you in, deciding to keep you for however long you were durable. He was amused with your reactions. He liked it. He found it interesting how you were also trying to survive. He’d play along as your god now. 

You lay in the bed and his finger prints stained your skin, each strike created blots of purple and blue and green. You liked bruises before, it showed how you fought for it. 

You apparently woke up two days later, and he lets you rest. Your body finally turns off survival mode for a second, just a second to adjust to the warm room. Four walls, the nice smell, it was just another thing you weren’t used to. Stillness. It was boring. But under these circumstances you were glad to have your own padded room to deal with this.

The time you were left alone, you didn’t know how long that would be. Another hour or so you’d think he’d come back in, hearing as you’re up. Time for more torture, though do torture victims get a bed and tended to? It felt more like you were a sacrifice, meant to appease him, though no one handed you over. 

You were brushed, scrubbed raw, and even felt a bit of shame for the way you were living compared to the two ladies who were taking care of you. But you didn’t know how long they’ve been in this line of work. Hell they honestly looked like they were born into it with the cold looks in their eyes. They could care less about your well-being, though they found and scrubbed every inch of you. Of course you didn’t want strangers to look at you, especially after such a moment that brought you here. To be real, these twins are probably the only people who knew you more than anyone you currently knew. 

Friends? You had a few, some to help you out sometimes, some to let you crash at their place. It was all fair game to the people you knew. Life was never easy for them and they knew of you being a free spirit. You didn’t leech off of them for you’d always show up with something in exchange, usually something you stole but it would never get traced back, it was either too common (but useful) or just something that would never be brought out of shown off. 

You weren’t a bad friend for it, if anything you were the perfect guest, though this time you didn’t mean to give yourself away for a few nights stay.

“I gotta get out of here, but where would I go? These people have already seen my face and I can’t tell how many more there would be. I can’t request anything to learn the layout of this place and no one will talk to me. If I leave I’ll have to run further and faster than I already have been…” You ponder more, sitting at the table placed in front of the window. 

They’re smart enough to know what I’d do if I wanted to pick a fight with their lord, of course there are guards at more doors, even under the window out your room, and it’s safe to say that there’s even a guard at each vent that’s connected to your room. 

“Why does it seem like I’m so special?” You sit and open the window, the guard below moves from his post to observe you on the same side has the other posted to view you. You look down at then and offer a wave, saying you’re not doing anything stupid, but you just wanted some air. One of them leaves, probably to get Sukuna. 

“I bet he’s just a lonely loser and I just happen to fall into his lap, or maybe I was one of many and was the newest. The girls here looked like they could be in the same position as you, though why weren’t they? They didn’t look like they were his blood, and there was no way that he could be their dad. That would make things even worse since you’re close in age as the twins. 

You see the guard go back to his post, nonchalantly. “Weirdo.” You thought. Not even a second later your room door whips open. Jumping from your place at the table, you turn and see who other than the man with the unpredictable entrances. “Finally up?” He leans on the door frame. “Honestly, you’re so dramatic for that.” He teased, being strangely familiar to you.

“Dude…” You caught yourself about to tell off this stranger. All you’ve known from him is that he’s having fun taking you and making you a toy, that his name was Sukuna and how everyone seemed under his control. Not that they enjoy it, but it didn’t look like anyone, even in their numbers, would stand up to someone like him. 

It still wasn’t apparent for you. He only told you his first name, his last could tell you that you were in even more danger than any “normal” man doing this to you. It could be such a metaphor but you’re literally trapped in the best place you’ve ever been. Was that just life? all the bad comes up when you’re supposed to be happy, and realizing how good you’ve had it as it gets ripped apart in front of you? The balance of it all only comes with ignorance, which was also why you wouldn’t get attached. You didn’t run to one person for everything you didn’t need more than what you’d ask for and that wasn’t much. If they were lucky you’d be there for 3 days at most. 

You lost your voice, his presence set in, bringing you out of your (if you can all it that) relaxed state. He notices you tense up, the look in your eyes begging him to give your body a break. He huffs and saunters into the room, taking a seat at the end of the bed, the side that’s facing you. “You had some time to clear your head, now tell me what was your intention. Playing dumb suits that pretty face of yours… But that’s not why I’m here.”

You sure knew nothing about this guy. Other than his name and how his body looked. How he felt was different, it just happened so fast that you could only remember how it lingered in your belly after he left you the second time. It wasn’t something you can forget, those were the best orgasms of your life. “Sukuna… I’m serious.” 

“You expect me to believe that? Did I hit you too hard?” You almost wanted to laugh, you saw stars and colors you couldn’t before his knuckles contacted your skull. Lifting his hand from his side to place under his chin made you flinch, a bit too hard for his liking apparently.  It took a lot for you to muster standing up on your own, much less realize you had to get to the table by needing support from the wall. It was like you were in an ice skating rink and had to hold onto the walls for dear life, except there was no ice, it was just pain in your body not letting you level yourself out.

“When you’re ready to talk, I might hear you out. My patience is thin you already know.” He stands and closes your door, sent a shiver down your spine. Him not being close to you, or hurting you, having this quick visit was so unsettling. 

It haunted you for hours. He didn’t touch you. The edge of the bed where he sat still held an energy, like he left a part of him right there to keep watch over you. 

He definitely hit you too hard, you were thinking more outlandish things to go with this scenario. Like why didn’t the touch you? You thought he was going to keep a pattern, that maybe after this he would come in periodically to taunt you. That maybe his patience has worn out and he was going to get rid of you any minute now, or to use you again. 

The trauma you got from this certainly messed with your self soothing methods. Every time you catch yourself hitting your peak of your self imposed orgasms, you were almost wishing you had more than just your fingers. You didn’t want him, but seriously its already been 2 weeks. You were gonna go crazy in here. The girls kept bringing you your meals, and a bathroom is attached, though you couldn’t do much by yourself. 

You were to let the others feed and bathe you, and you honestly hated it. It was way too weird, you never talked to them, and they never tried with you so it felt like there was an agreement to just not speak about it. That none of you were here willingly. That gave you some insight. Your body healed itself enough that you didn’t need the wall to walk anymore, making your trips to the table in front of the window more frequent. 

You notice some sort of schedule Sukuna follows, as well as a few other noticeable men in this kind of gated community. Whatever he has gong on here, it felt like you were almost a stolen princess locked away in a tower or something. “You have GOT TO get a hold of yourself.” You didn’t need to see a doctor or someone, you were fully aware that these thoughts were just you daydreaming to escape reality, yet again. Though this time it was getting boring, you couldn’t help yourself, literally. 

At this point you wanted to even ask one of the guards if they wanted to come in and help you out, but you didn’t have to do that, because a day later you decided to act. Rolling around night time, you decided to open your window a noticeable amount. By then the guards usually leave one guard to patrol the grounds in each quarter. 

The ones outside your door either end up sleeping or one leaves the other for a bathroom break, some nights they both go, probably to blow each other you thought. It wasn’t any of your concern, they did it before when you could barely move, but now you were agile again, enough to move around without hissing at each moment.

 Placing your ear to the door, you heard light snoring through it. “Okay, just find his room you thought. You knew that it took about 60 steps to reach a stair case, then that would be about 24 steps down. You could hear his footsteps through the pairs of others who followed him, as his echoed with pace, and the others almost scuttled behind them like bugs.. 

You find your way slipping past heavy wooden doors, making sure it wouldn’t creak, you saw the walkway in the garden. You looked up and saw your room, you knew it was yours as it was the only one with the window open. you knew that the guard just left this fourth of his grounds. You were searching the area for his room. Peering through the windows, it would have been hard to tell if it was him, but his tattoos were honestly unique. 

None of them were him, you go back to the walkway, going down the opposite end, just blindly working your way through. You couldn’t just walk through any door, it could be your last mistake, it being Sukuna or not. But it just had to be him, you wanted so badly to find his familiar face and just, you don’t know. 

You decide to be more ballsy, there’s surely no way he’s be in the same quarters that has this many people,” you decide to take your chance with the left corridor. “I wouldn’t take him for a cuddly guy anyway.” 

Listen, you know it sounds crazy, but if you even got to escape, you’d be hunted like a fox, unnecessarily, and as a spectacle for others to watch. But if you could find him, and do it yourself, “I mean, at least I’d die with something, and what a funny way to go.” You loved to joke about these kinds of things. Anytime it seemed dark, you’d find yourself cracking a joke or going off an other tangents from the barrage of thoughts coming your way.

You hold your breath as you set your fingers around the doorknob, you pull it back slowly, and turn it, to silence any squeaks it may have. After turning it fully, you let it go back and unclenched your fingers to let it go a second time, making sure there was no noise from the metal trap, and decided to go in. 

What fucking luck you had as if you broke into another room you’d think your breathing would start to give you away. As you head towards the bed, the raising figure laying there was him. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark, so much so that you could just stand in front of him. 

Looking down at him you wondered what you should do. You’re not going to kill him, that’s one thing, though you had nothing to lose, you still liked your life and you enjoyed whatever adventurous you got yourself into. It was always just one thing after the next and you’d rest when needed, but you loved it. 

This was totally different though. Before it was like you were born into this work and have to abide by its rules. As of right now you could do /anything/. What else would you do? 

You look down at him, kneeling at the edge of the bed to face him. Looking at his face like this, completely defenseless, his harsh eyes weren’t poking at you or telling you exactly what he was thinking. No he was just, he looked human. Like if you were to have met him at any other place it would possibly be on a magazine cover or an army recruitment booth posted wherever. 

“Damn bastard is beautiful.” You thought. “I didn’t get this far to stop now. Fucking 2 weeks you keep me here and don’t do anything? Do you know how boring that is? You can’t just keep me here and forget.” All that time alone had gone to your head, did you forget how he treated you the time you met? 

Tbh it fades in and out, your memory’s cut up pieces of film that randomly plays an old memory, and since you can’t recognize it, you call it a dream. 

Nothing could take you away from where you were now. Looking over him, still not a care in the world. Nothing could wake him if he’d allow it. You cocked your head to align your eyes with his, and reach out and brush your fingertips across his jawline. 

How much of this could you enjoy before he kills you for breaking out? Just that thought had you slowly leaning in, your hand before tracing his face was leaning onto the bed to support your intrusion. 

First, you kissed his forehead. The poor fuck probably hadn’t felt the touch of a real lover in ages, he just finds and uses whatever and whoever he wants, whenever. Of course you didn’t pity him, but does he even know what being loved properly was like? You’re really one to be asking. 

You peck the smooth, hot skin, and kissed a line across his cheek, getting more sensual with the next. His touch, even sleeping was still so manly. His body was so, honestly the words seem odd, but he looked so edible. Like you almost couldn’t keep your lips off of him. He was so yummy when you get a good look at him. 

Cupping his face, your lips reach his, beginning to lightly stimulate the connection. You lean in further, applying yourself onto him, guiding open his mouth with yours as you lick his lips. This shit was getting you so excited, considering all that he’s done to you, having this moment, where you’re in control and he was at your mercy, and only you know this.

Continuing to make out with your kidnapper, you moved yourself to get on top of him. His lazy reaction of kissing back had you think he was a deep sleeper, god you really wished. 

You opened your eyes just to make sure he was still asleep, but his eyes were staring back at you, with the same look he always has. You didn’t have time to even make a sound before he had you under him. His hand grabbed your waist and turned kept you parallel to him as his leg pushed his body to get on top. 

You could feel his erection, he was basically stabbing your thighs with his head. His hands pushed your wrists into opposite sides of your head, and he has you immobilized as he sat on your legs. Most you could move was your toes and neck, but he had pressed his face up against yours. 

“I don’t even know where to start with you. If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve already. Maybe I can believe you’re just some random, …but you wouldn’t have come to my room.” He lets a wrist go to reel back and strikes your face as a warning. Seriously, no sane person would just come straight back to him in your situation.

“The guard fell asleep?” Nothing gets by him. You can’t tell if he was just prepared for everything or if he planned this out. The excitement you were feeling before was being clashed with the sudden shock to your face. “Depending how the rest of the night will go will determine his punishment.” 

Keeping everything in place, he moves your chin up by his nose, giving him space to start attacking your neck. “We’ll just start with yours.” His grasp tightened around each wrist, so much so that he was pulling on the tendons in your forearms, making your fingers involuntary curl. 

Your luck may have run out, but you weren’t as scared. Trying to enjoy the moment as much as possible, knowing fully well that you’re about to be eaten alive, and god, youve been waiting. His teeth grazed your collar bone, making their way back up, making themselves a known threat to your neck. 

“Speak.” He orders. “Who sent you?” 

“You still think I’m a spy?” The spot where he hit you was pounding, but it didn’t hurt. Other parts of your body were just pulsating along with your heartbeat, you knew he was going to take that as a sign of fear. 

“Hurry up, we have a meeting tomorrow so I’m trying to be considerate for everyone else.” 

He’s still not listening. You weren’t either at this point, finding his roughing up sort of endearing. Maybe he didn’t want to get blood on his bed, or maybe he did care about that stupid meeting. All you could feel was vigorous pulsating from your wrists, your face, your heart, and more than anything else, your pussy. 

This was literally what you came here to do, this was why he even took you with him wasn’t it? Seriously whatever big shot he thinks he is… this shit wasn’t legal; You were serious on going out with a bang, raising your hips to create some friction on his hard on. 

Sukuna seemed to notice the look in your eyes and gave you another firm slap. “Focus, doll.” He adjusts his hips a few inches too far down your liking, his hands being the only thing touching you. 

“Put it back.” You got this far, now he wants to start questioning you immediately after waking up? He picked you up after meeting and ignored you for two weeks, you’re about to do what most others would. Especially if they’re in the same situation with the same circumstances.

“You’re not the one to be giving orders, much less to me.” 

You raise your hips back up to his head, having it dip into you, crossing your clit but unable to enter fully. His tip could find its way in no problem, it was just his call, and that almost drove him over the edge. You’ve stopped fighting back, for something like your freedom and what’s better for you. 

What you were after now was just one more orgasm brought by that monstrous mf. He doesn’t drop his guard, or change his face at all as he accepted “your bait/distraction”. In this position, you’re still straight legged, laying in his bed as he has you held down, arms pinned, palms up, and legs trapped as he sat on your thighs. 

He could easily kill you now, but it would honestly leave a bad taste as no one’s been killed in his room before, much less even entered without permission. You both didn’t know what to think really. 

To you he’s some strange and strong asshole who’s been unclear if you were his sex toy or if you were “invited” and he was just being a terrible host. Honestly, it felt worse to you to have everything you needed; Without your freedom, you were honestly thinking it’d be better to be dead. 

To him, you were dangerous. You got it all right. From the room, to the person to bump into, to the alley. You could have been a spy laying low, from whichever gang he thought you were from, he thought it would be good to hold you off to send a message to see who would come collect you first. They wouldn’t send someone if they didn’t have something to say. 

At first he did just want to keep you until one of them sent them back another message. It didn’t matter what happened to you, honestly he got bored. He’s a busy man, there was really nothing else to say. 

So imagine his surprise how you came crawling all over him tonight. He knew an assassin would’ve done it before he even knew the door opened, they were to make sure it was quick. The attack would have had to been fatal, whether they succeed in one shot or have them die as they’re leaving. And how quick they leave is how desperately they want to live. 

You, just came in to stare at him and decided you wanted something else. And it didn’t seem like revenge. That was a first, especially for him. Right now he was allowing it, letting you go. There was no way you could harm him, he concluded. 

Looking down at you squirm and pout, upset on how close you were to getting what you’ve been aching from and for. He won’t drop his guard, but he sure as hell was silver platter served. Really how badly did you want it?

He connects your wrists at the top of your head with one hand, the other has its index finger and thumb at the base, controlling himself with those two fingers. He raises his erection and knocked it against your clit, the strikes sent waves of pleasure from your core to the top of your head and palm of your feet, having you whimper out. 

Your aching hole needed him, it was taking him so long. Seriously you wish he’d kill you now because this so actually torture. The only thing you could do was start to cry, tears leaving their corners and running into your hair. You were more than frustrated. Angry, horny, needy, powerless, you wanted it so bad you were losing control, it didn’t matter, no one else could judge you, and who would be worse than Sukuna?

“You came in here, climb all over me, just to cry now? You’re so pathetic.” 

“Please,” You whine. “I want you to put it in.”

His face changed, from laughing at you beg, to sharpening his focus. Even after all this, getting caught, threatened, insulted, you’ve started to beg for it. He takes his legs up from pinning yours, putting them to your sides as he aligns himself to your front hole. “Say it again.”

“Please Sukuna, put it in-“ He lowers his hips and dives deep into you. He watches as your head writhes. Instantly youre spread apart, the sudden plunge casted a warm blush across your face and electricity towards the tips of your fingers. “Oooh,” 

“Fuuuuuck.” He finished for you. He continues to grind deeply into you, quickly using his now free hand to gag you from waking everyone up. Good thing too as you were messy, fucked silly couldn’t cover it. You gave up control a long time ago. He wouldn’t kill you, not right now anyway, you especially wouldn’t let him without trying to get one last nut. It was diabolical how down bad he had you. It was more of your unhealed trauma and he just happened to be the best person to help you out, willing or not.

——————————————————————————

You lay there as the base of your back ached. Every part of your body was bruised again, you could only imagine to move again as you tried catching your breath. You had lost count on just how many times he’s forced an orgasm out of you, mind numbingly rich euphoria every time. Nothing else mattered, you were more than thrilled the first 2 times but started to wonder if he ever got tired. 

It wasn’t until after your fifth orgasm that he managed to get his first one in. You were honestly almost regretting climbing into his room but his second had him pinning you on your back as he lay on your lower torso and legs. You couldn’t feel anything but your pulsating cervix, half feeling good from the pain and lingering pleasure, the other half making you know that this was a mistake and the nausea was on you. 

Raising your free arm, you weakly start to pat his head. It was over, you insatiable perverted needs were fulfilled, so what were you going to do now? It’s not like you’re in love with the guy, you don’t even know if you’ll get to wake up tomorrow with this stunt. “It was worth it.” You thought. Running your fingers thorough his hair, and tracing his back, you fall asleep holding him, accepting that this is it.

[ataraxiaspainting]

The End.

Yan Kafka x F Reader.

Synopsis: Kafka always sits in the front row, despite being part of the show herself.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, thoughts of violence, manipulation, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 1k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Breezeblocks by alt-J

Waltz No. 2 by Dmitri Shostakovich (feat. The Dixie String Quartet)

Swan Lake by HAUSER

Claus by Los Tres

Doin’ Time by Lana Del Ray

Lie by BTS

She’s My Collar by Gorillaz (feat. Kali Uchis)

Cha Cha by Freddie Dredd

Michelle by Sir Chloe

MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name) - SATAN’S EXTENDED VERSION by Lil Nas X

*~*~*~*

The roses are wilting.

It was destiny, fate. Such pretty things never last forever, after all, even if the entire universe wished otherwise. One way or another, they are meant to fall, like how the sun drops below where anyone can see it, being replaced with the moon, and vice versa. They fall deep, deeper than hell itself, and no one can pick them back up, unless one would be inclined to make a pact with the devil himself, doing horrendous things in his name. But Kafka has already committed such sins, so why deny doing so any longer? It is who she is. It is who you are, to be entangled in her lies and be forced to dance and to sing and to act.

With two gloved hands, she picks up the vase, spilling out the moldy water and the dying roses, the roses she got for you after you sang so well at the opera house, looking so beautiful, into the trash can underneath your makeup vanity, where little clumps of hair and emptied products always meet their end.

She’ll get you a new bouquet later. A new vase too. Perhaps instead of white roses you would like red ones instead? Kafka knows that this vase is cheap too, from one of your fellow divas, whose high notes are not as high as yours and her costumes not as elaborate or as elegant as yours.

“I honestly don’t see why you even try to befriend any of them, darling. They are all envious harpies. They can’t hold a candle to anything you do.”

You are not here, but Kafka’s mouth always has a mind of its own, so it spins lies even when your delicate, lovely ears are not in the general vicinity. Not that she minds it. But yours is what she is quite more so than trifles with, because yours is carefully controlled by her and her alone, and you, as always, don’t get a say. It’s a sort of hypocrisy, Kafka thinks, but she doesn't mind that either.

If she has to, she’ll even sew your mouth shut, your ears shut, your eyes shut, if that is what it takes for you to stay with her. She doubts it would ever come to that, though, because you are always too fragile and too trusting to tell the difference between an Iago and a Desdemona. But the latter role would much better suit you, her little flower, her princess.

You are so precious, but also a treasure prying eyes will always want to touch and see and hear. Kafka would, in all honesty, love to cut their hands and tongues off, if it did not ruin the carefully crafted image she made just for you. Maybe later, though, when all the stage lights are off.

“Lady Macbeth, hmm?” She murmurs.

She disagrees with the role you were given entirely. But, you were not one to stand up for yourself, so Kafka let it go. 

“You really ought to leave this business soon, dearest.” Kafka looks around, her arms crossed, not impressed with the room you were given in the slightest. “You can always just come with me.” She meant it. “Imagine all the sights you would see. All the food you would eat. All the gifts I would be so happy to give you. All the hugs and kisses you would receive from me. Everything… just think about it.”

She could imagine it herself. It is not hard, really, for the mind to reject all sense of logic and bow down to the whim of what is known as human emotions, mortal joys, woes, desires, wants, and needs. She could imagine sitting you on her lap as the ship jumps to the next world she will have to visit, telling you stories of the past, present, and future, as you look on with amazement. You don’t do that anymore, now. She would do anything to see it come back. She would steal a crown and place it on your head, though you having the genuine article does not make you any stronger. If anything, perhaps it would make you weaker to her whims.

“Imagine that…” She sighs, closing her eyes as she smiles. “We can go to Penacony. Your dreams would come true there if I cannot make them true myself. You can sleep on beds worth more than this entire opera house. If only you would let me. I know it would make you happy. I know it would make me happy. So why wouldn’t it make you?”

She would listen to your ultimate pains, and your ultimate wishes, and act accordingly. She loved you. You will too, again. It is only a matter of time, isn’t it? Yes, Kafka thinks, it is fate. 

…

Kafka always sits in the front row of the theater.

It does not matter whether or not she purchased the tickets for it, the seat, or the show soon to come to fruition. No one dares talk back to her, even security. She finds comfort in that. No one gets in the way of her having the chance to see you. Better yet, no one else sits in the front row when she is present.

So, she watches, one of her legs crossed over the other, her eyes never blinking. During interludes she likes to adjust her makeup accordingly, painting on another shade of crimson to her lips. Art comes in many forms, after all.

Kafka told you that once. As always, you listened dutifully as she taught you to be.

She taught you many things, not just that. She taught you how to read constellations. She helped you learn her vocabulary in the books she gave you, often long fairytales or poems. She preferred it that way when you used to be so eager to have someone be friendly to you and not want to simply use you for their own amusement, not wanting to throw you out of the opera house altogether.

The opera house may rot after it goes up in flames, in the future, if things go her way as it always does, but she’ll stay to watch it all, to take you in as you cry and as she shushes you. She’ll be happy. Maybe you will be too, for her. It matters how good your performance is, if you even want to act anymore, after all.

The lights dim, and she shows her pearl-white teeth as she grins.

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 3 – You Know You're On My Mind

⛸️ Summary: Would you rather A) represent Seoul at the Spring Championship, B) find the answer as to why Mingi was ignoring you or C) stay in your shared flat for the winter holidays? How smart of you to go with option D), none of the above.

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst!!!

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: Female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (princess, beans), a lot of tears and crying, probably incorrect use of hockey terms, fist fight, blood, verbal fight, Mingi is really mean but also aware he's being a douche, Dasom is a good friend, more side characters!!!

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.6K

⛸️ Author's note: I freaking love angst 😈 Hence why I've looked forward to the third part of Cold Hands, Warm Hearts! A warning, I have absolutely ZERO knowledge about hockey so the things you'll read concerning the hockey game may or may not be wrong idk. I've tried watching a lot of hockey games on YouTube, but they move so fucking fast I can barely wrap my head around what's happening lmaooo.

I also wanted to write my own comments for the chapter (something I should have done since the first part tbh), but I've been home with a fever for some days now and I honestly can barely sit up, let alone write extra stuff so I'm sadly skipping out on that. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this part and don't be shy to tell me your thoughts 🩷

This is all fiction and not meant to represent the idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes as well as adult language. Minors and ageless blogs refrain from reading this work!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

December 9th, 2024. 

The day was marked in Mingi’s little red calendar he kept away in his backpack — not that he needed the reminder, the day was practically burned into his mind — and the fanciest suit he owned was ironed three nights prior with the help of his best friend and roommate, Jeong Yunho. One would think it was an important day — as to explain why he woke up at a presentable hour with enough time to spare for a few errands and a brunch with his roommate — an exam determining his final grade or something to do with his hockey, but no it was just the day of your competition. 

Currently sitting in a sandwich shop, thumbs twirling and eyes set on the flower shop across the street, Mingi contemplated whether bringing a bouquet  — maybe roses or those tulips, they were quite popular nowadays — would be too much or not at all. The two parts of his brain clashed and before he could make a decision Yunho came back with their orders, a teriyaki chicken sandwich for Mingi while he ordered something nasty looking with a really fancy and long name that Mingi couldn’t bother remembering. 

“There you go.” Yunho settled in the seat across Mingi and dove right into his food, letting out a moan of approval. “Best sandwich in town, no kidding.”

“Do girls like flowers?”

Caught mid bite, cheeks coated with crumbs and mayonnaise, Yunho looked up at Mingi who already had his eyes set on him with a seriousness that rarely outshone his happy and goofy exterior. 

“Uhm, I suppose. I mean the girls I’ve given flowers to liked the gesture. Why? You looking to impress someone, Mings?” A teasing smile quirked at the edge of his lips. “Is it a quick fuck?”

“Dude?!” Mingi hissed and quickly threw a glance around the room making sure no one overheard their convo and labeled them as creeps.

“Oh, come on, we’ve talked about worse things than some sex deets.”

“It was a simple question, Yunho-ya. Do flowers equal happy girls? Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.”

Sensing this wasn’t a topic Mingi was all too keen to talk about, Yunho gave him some space and took another bite of his sandwich. Then he remembered their conversation three days ago and how Mingi begged him to help him iron his suit and teach him how to properly handle a tie, and if that wasn’t enough of a reason then he could always use the we’ve-been-friends-since-diapers card and pry whatever information he wanted out of him.

“Is this about that figure skating girl?”

“Absolutely not… Do you think she’d like roses or tulips?”

Mouth full of bacon, tomato, lettuce and bread, Yunho mumbled out a barely audible answer. “Roses. Definitely roses.”

“I’m just saying if Hyunjin brings you roses I’ll jump in front of the ice resurfacer!” 

Keeho laid flat on your bed, legs dangling in the air and chin propped on both palms as his eyes burned holes on your back. While rummaging through your closet you threw a random shirt over your shoulder, purposely aiming it at him and you knew it was a success as he let out a surprised ‘ack’.

“That’s what you get for being noisy,” Dasom chirped and rolled over him, her feet hitting your pillow and arms reaching the end of your bed.

“You guys promised to help me pack! I’m so going to be late.” 

An empty duffel bag sat on your bed beside the entanglement of limbs that were your friends. Despite waking up a whole twelve hours before your planned departure, you were running late or would be if you didn’t leave in the next fifteen minutes.

“Fine, but I’m just helping because I know you’ll make it big one day and I can use it to be a multimillionaire influencer. Yoon Keeho, best friend of the South Korean Olympic figure skater. It has a nice ring to it, no?”

Another shirt hit him in the face, this one coming straight out of the dirtied piles of clothes in the corner.

“No more throwing shirts!”

“Up we go, Kyo.” 

Dasom repositioned to sit criss-crossed in front of your bag and began neatly placing necessary things inside; towel, spare change of clothes, bobby pins, hairspray, your skates. 

“Where’s your suit?” She asked while zipping the bag.

“My coach still has it. Something about seeing it before the comp would bring bad luck or whatever. Like it’s a competition not a wedding and Keeho, get out I need to change.”

“I bet a round of lamb skewers Hyunjin is proposing after the comp– I’m leaving, I’m leaving, put that down!”

As the door closed you quickly stripped and threw on a sweatsuit bearing the logo of Tiny University printed on the front and back. Knowing you were practically working on autopilot while your nerves skyrocketed, Dasom didn’t want to step out of bounds and send you into a potential spiral of panic and stress but she was also very curious, and her greed won over her morals. With a soft call of your name she asked the million dollar question. 

“Did you only invite Hyunjin?”

You froze with your hands in your hair, a bobby pin between your fingers and an extra in your mouth as your gaze fell on her. Flashing you a derpy yet reassuring smile that warmed you up like the sun on a summer afternoon filled with sugary strawberries and pink lemonade. 

“No… Not just Hyunjin, I actually invited Mingi too, but I… don’t know why.” 

You plopped down beside her and played with your fingers. It all felt so silly and you didn’t even have the time to think about him or Hyunjin or anything boy related overall. Not that it was a bad thing, in fact it was great, but that meant your mind was completely occupied of nailing your choreo, imaging everything that could go wrong and to not let anything go fucking wrong. 

“Maybe it just felt right,” she whispered, as if the words were made of steel and you were of twigs that would break at the slightest contact.

Sighing, you nodded and fell back on your bed with Dasom in tow. There wasn’t much left to say. You couldn’t remember what drunk-you thought when inviting Mingi nor did you want to know. All you knew was that your heart did that little leap thing before violently kicking at your rib cage when he said he’d be there and that was concerning but not more so than your competition taking place in a few hours. 

If Mingi showed up, great.

If he didn’t then that was great too, is what you forced yourself into believing.

Mingi stood before a body-length mirror and kept running his hand through his neatly made hair. Yunho placed a palm over Mingi’s shoulder and the shifting motion immediately subdued only to proceed as the hand withdrew. 

“Stop moving around dude, you’re making me nervous!” 

Taking a step back, Yunho quietly assessed Mingi, searching for creases in his black suit or stray hairs standing up funny. There were no faults, his tall friend — that was still slightly shorter than himself — looked perfect appearance wise. It was the slight twitch of his finger and sweat collecting at the nape of his neck that gave him away.

“Why are you so nervous, Mingi-ya? It’s just a figure skating competition, nothing more nothing less.”

Taking a hold of the perfectly wrapped bouquet of heart-colored roses he paid a good penny for, Mingi pouted and shrugged his shoulders as if a toddler being put on the spot for doing something bad.

 “I don’t know.”

“You want me to come with?”

Yunho, dressed in an old tattered shirt and bright red basketball shorts with his naturally dark hair growing at the roots and taking on the look of pudding, was ready to drop everything and jump in his brand new suit planned for their graduation if that’s what Mingi needed.

“No, no. I’ll be fine, it’s just… Don’t you think it’s too much? Flowers, a suit? It’s a figure skating competition not a wedding.”

“Does it matter? Personally, if it were me, I’d rather see the girl I invited put in the effort even if it means wearing nice clothes over something raggedy. This shows you care.”

“I guess…”

Mingi jumped as Yunho reassuringly landed his hands on his shoulders, giving him an encouraging squeeze and smiling so his cheeks puffed up. “Come on, let’s get that tie fixed and then I’ll give you a lift.”

“Ah, the privileges of not having a driver’s license.”

“You mean the privileges of being a passenger princess?”

“Yah, Yunho-ya!” Came the whine as Mingi followed his friend like a kicked puppy on a rainy Monday morning. 

The arena was packed and while it wasn’t an unusual sight for Mingi — always being a witness of how the bleachers slowly filled up during his warm ups —  it was weird seeing it from an outside perspective. Everything seemed so much smaller and compact compared to when he was on the ice squinting past the blinding headlights to barely even catch a glimpse of the audience. Other than practice and hockey game, Mingi had no reason to visit the arena. There was no other sport that piqued his interest enough to stand in line, pay an overpriced entry fee and freeze his ass off on a plastic chair. He’d usually just enter through the changing rooms and skip all that yet there he was, all glammed up and standing behind a family wearing shirts with the name of some random chick printed in big bold letters. 

Thinking about it, Mingi couldn’t actually give less of a fuck about figure skating and months ago he didn’t care who represented Seoul or if they were even capabale to compete with the other cities. 

“All my friends are going to be there.”

“Nice friends you have.”

“We are friends,” you said matter-of-factly, your ‘S’ coming out with a lisp. “Alllll my friends are going.”

“You want me to come to your competition princess?”

“You’ll come?!”

You slinked your arm through his and squished it against your chest, cheek pressed to his bicep as you looked at him. One would believe Mingi hung up each and every single star individually in your name for you to look at him that way.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I’ll be there.”

It was your stupid yet endearing eyes that did it all. The little shining glint that completely vexed him and before he knew it, the promise slipped off his tongue and was spoken into existence. Mingi didn’t get to indulge more in the memory of the beauty that was your face as the lights dimmed and an enthusiastic voice boomed through the speakers, welcoming everyone and announcing the start of the preliminary that would determine the female representative of Seoul at the annual Spring Championship. 

Honestly, Mingi didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t know a lot of things; how long this would be, what time your performance would start, was he supposed to find you after or before they announced the winner? It also didn’t help that he was sweating through his dress shirt despite the freezing temperature inside. 

Performance after performance passed and he was yet to catch sight of you. Honestly speaking, Mingi was growing impatient. The numbers weren’t anything extraordinary — he had seen you do much better even when ending on your rear — and he wasn’t here to watch some mediocre ladies flip around to classical music. The weight of his phone burned in his suit pocket and he was itching to reach for it. He was three taps away from dialing Yunho and making the taller man pick him up again. Oblivious to the curious and soft eyes peering at the bouquet in his lap, Mingi stared at the ice rink with a far away look on his face and bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Those are beautiful,” a voice came from his left. It was comforting and full of kindness. 

Snapping his head towards the person, Mingi faced a woman looking old enough to be his mom. The compliment pulled at the corners of his lips and soon a full blown boxy smile took over his face as his eyes creased into crescent moons. 

“Thank you.”

Mingi contemplated whether to hand her the darned flowers and leave while you still hadn’t caught sight of him, that way his money wouldn’t go to waste and the flowers wouldn’t end up in the bin outside the venue.

“I’m Chaeryeong’s mom.”

“Song Mingi,” he curtly answered with a little bow of his head.

“Are those for your girlfriend?”

As kind as this woman looked she sure was twice the amount noisy.

“No, they are for a… friend. She’s competing today.”

“Oh, when is she up?”

At the sight of his uncertainty, she handed Mingi a pamphlet with several numbers followed by first- and last names of the competitors. Quickly scanning the sheet of paper he landed on your name in last place and with the twenty-ninth performer taking her starting pose right as Mingi looked back up again. The urge to squish his face against the pamphlet was immense. 

“She’s last.”

“Oh! That’s Hoseok’s kid. She’s amazing and if it weren’t for my Chaeryeongie I’d root for her.”

Pride swelled in his chest and heat nipped at his cheeks. He tried suppressing the fond smile forcing its way out but failed.

“It’s actually my first time watching her perform but yeah, she’s pretty… p-pretty cool!”

“Really? Well, it’s better late than never.”

Why Mingi was getting flustered was beyond him. Not wanting to think about it and eventually fall down a rabbit hole he always did when thinking of you, he nodded and took the praise with the lady leaving a pat on his shoulder.

“Mmm, you’re smiling! Are you sure she’s just a friend?”

Mingi lowered his chin and avoided the teasing eyes of Chaeryeong’s mom. No way was he talking about girl problems with a random lady at a figure skating competition. 

“Would you spare my seat? I just need to go to the restroom.”

“Of course, son.”

With one last bow he ran up the stairs leading to the main hall and straight for the male restroom which  — to his delight  — was empty. Mingi released a breath of unease and stopped by the sink hoping to wash away the sweat collected on his hands. Looking at his reflection in the oblong mirror, he pursed his lips and splashed cold water on his face before lightly slapping his cheeks.

“It’s easy. We hand her the flowers, tell her she did great and then we leave.”

Mingi couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous over talking to a girl. Thinking about it, he talked to you all the time. Yes, most of it was hidden behind jokes and teasing remarks, but it still counted as talking.

“Welcoming our last performer of the night…”

The booming voice of the announcer echoed through the whole building and with a quick ‘shit’ falling from his lips, Mingi dried his hands off his expensive pants and ran back into the arena receiving weird stares from other people, but he wasn’t about to miss the start of your performance after waiting for over two hours. In sync with you gliding out on the ice he flew past the double doored entrance and caught himself on the metal railing. Mingi realized there was no need to go back to his previous spot, not when he had a great view of the whole ice rink from where he stood and a great look of you posing in the middle, one arm elegantly thrown over your head and the other following the length of your figure and stopping midthigh.

Stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, angelic, breathtaking, enchanting, marvelous and other adjectives wouldn’t do the justice to describe how truly captivating you looked. 

The first thing that caught his attention was your costume. It was a long sleeved dress transitioning from dark to light blue with sparkly beads going down your chest, across your abdomen and arms in a tilted motion as if the foam of multiple waves. Your costume had a tiny skirt which Mingi was sure would swirl prettily when pirouetting and twirling in the air. The upper part of your dress took on the shape of a heart and went down your back in a v-form leaving your collars, shoulders and back completely exposed. Your hair was styled in a sturdy updo matching the elegance of your suit and while Mingi couldn’t see your make-up, he assumed it would reflect the colors of your dress and accentuate your facial features in just the right way.

The starting notes of your chosen song erupted from the speakers and Mingi’s breath got caught in his throat as you glided across the ice, his heart beating in rhythm to your every landed jump. You moved with grace and for once the teasing nickname he reserved just for you had no malice objective behind it. You surrendered yourself to the music and allowed it to guide you, your body resembled the elements of nature and became an entity that was no longer your own. Moving like the ripples of a wind, flowing and rising as though you were water yet curving fiercely as a controlled fire and flourishing like a sunflower yearning for light.

It was beautiful. You were beautiful. 

Mingi would rather have spent two hours watching you skate than those other amateurs and he was slightly bitter your number only lasted for four minutes. 240 seconds of no breathing or thinking, just existing to admire you as if you were a painting exhibited in the most famous art museum in the world.

As you were entering the last moments of your performance, the music picked up and you mentally prepared yourself to do the main stunt. There was no turning back now and with confidence pumping in your veins, you inhaled and propelled yourself off the ice. Time slowed down and magically you could somehow hear the amazed gasps of the audience. Your body spun, and spun and spun and you felt the start of gravity doing its work. As if caught in a sense of Déjà Vu, the sharp point of your skates chipped the ice and threw your landing off course, and before you knew it, you landed on the outer side of your thigh. The crowd gasped again, the tone much more horrible than a few seconds ago, and all you wanted to do was continue to lay on the cold surface, but the show was yet to be over. In hopes of saving your score, you recovered with a double-axel which wasn’t nearly as appealing as the one you failed, but at least you landed it.

The performance ended with you posing in the middle — much like you practiced — and waiting for the last piano notes to run out. Despite your big fail the arena erupted in chaos of applause and whistles. Thanking the spectators with three respectful bows — each facing a different side — you skated off the ice with shaky legs and a heart hammering in your ears falling right in the arms of your coach. Mingi didn’t move until you rounded the corner towards the locker rooms and disappeared from his sight. 

A short static echoed in the hall as the AUX was rather harshly unplugged from your phone, making you lose your footing and fall on your ass.

The ice beneath was hard and cold, and it numbed your whole left leg except for the burning pain that flared up in your backside. You had to physically hold back tears as you stood back up on shaky legs.

“Majestic as always, princess, but I’ll have to deduct ten points for that eye captivating fall.” 

A chorus of laughter and gloves pounding against the plexiglas averted your attention for a split second, and the picture of an audience watching wasn’t much of an imagination as the whole hockey team stood by the entrance of the rink. 

Mingi sighed at the memory and stalked back to his seat where the kind family and bouquet of roses waited on him. 

“You missed her performance!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed and handed him the flowers.

Mingi smiled shyly, then scratched the back of his neck. “Ah no, I watched from up there.” He turned and pointed at the spot he was standing in not even thirty seconds ago. “It was a better view so yeah…”

Chaeryeong’s mom smiled tenderly with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “What a relief! You got me worried for a minute but I should’ve known you wouldn’t miss it.”

“She was amazing,” Mingi stated and received a smug look from the woman.

“Mmm, I told you so. It’s a shame she fell. Well, we’re going out for a breather but we’ll be back so please save our seats for us.”

You sat in one of the locker rooms, head in your hands and feet tapping on the floor. The performance couldn’t have been more perfect, all for it to go to shit in the end.

All the hours, sweat and energy put into practice was a waste and you didn’t have to wait for the winner to be announced to know whether it was true or not. It was ironic really, despite being in a competitive sport, you hated the concept of competitions. The idea that there could only be one winner always got to your head like a parasite planting eggs of anxiety. Your number was great, but your fall made the other girls as good if not better and that really got you spiraling. 

Not to mention neither of your parents could make it, the timing clashing with their working schedules besides driving back and forth from your hometown was too exhausting for one day. Keeho and Dasom weren’t there either, occupied with work or school projects making it unreasonable for you to be angry with them. You also didn’t spot Hyunjin or Mingi in the audience which wasn’t that much of a surprise as you could barely make out the people in the front row, but nonetheless, the lack of support was weighing on you. That’s why in these situations, you were so grateful for Mr. Jung. Not only being your coach, but for stepping up as a ten man army of supporters.

A series of knocks snapped you out of your thoughts followed by Mr. Jung’s voice on the other side.

“You ready, star? They are announcing the winner.”

“Oh, look! I think they are announcing the winner!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed as she sat back down in her seat.

The competing figure skaters went back out on the ice in a neat row, all dressed in various shimmering suits creating a palette of multiple colors. The whole crowd quieted down as the announcer asked for silence and simultaneously caught everyone’s attention. Not Mingi’s though, no his eyes were set on you who — together with the other girls — lined up behind the host. 

Hands trembling and breath caught in your throat, you didn’t allow yourself to think of anything. You felt like your head was underwater. It wasn’t scary or suffocating, but not a great feeling either as you couldn’t hear anything clearly thanks to the blood pumping in your ears. Somehow you could make out the distant voice of the man holding the mic, but no words were being registered. Focusing on the white translucent puffs of your short inhales and exhales, you didn’t hear the thick voice announcing the winner. It all happened incredibly fast. One second everyone was at the edge of their seats — you imagined them to be nibbling their nails like in the cartoons — and the next thing you know, the whole arena exploded in cheers. You were so out of it you hadn’t even heard the announcement of the winner. Although it didn’t matter, because a second later the call for a girl who wasn’t you sounded through the speakers as she was welcomed up on the podium. 

“Everyone! A round of applause for Seoul's representative of the Spring Championship 2025!”

You felt yourself sink deeper and deeper into the ocean as a booming wave of applause and whistles scattered around, shaking you to the core. Tears sprung to your eyes and you silently thanked the makeup artist for using waterproof cosmetics, the last thing you needed was for everyone to notice your emotional breakdown. The winner skated up to the host and he rewarded her with a bouquet of various flowers and a sash reading ‘Seoul Representative 2025’ in gold letters. You imagined him to be wishing her good luck and words of encouragement before letting her shine in the light of attention and praise.

After bowing to the girls, judges and audience you skated out of the rink and threw yourself in Mr. Jung’s embrace who patiently waited by the open board door. His heart smile didn’t hold quite reach its natural form and came out more pained than what he’d like to and his creased eyes mirrored your own sad expression. The flashes of a dozen cameras quickly annoyed you as well as the sound of the gadgets going off and you tried your best ignoring them, but each flicker was like a stab to your heart.

You were supposed to be the winner. The camera was supposed to be on you, not on that girl.

“It’s alright, starshine. Winning is not always guaranteed,” he whispered and hugged you tighter as you started crying harder, hot tears soaking his shirt. 

He stayed with you a while inside the locker room. The silence and your occasional sniffles were the only sources of sound, besides the light chattering noise outside. 

“I’m still proud of you.”

The simple sentence brought another fresh set of tears to your eyes and you hung your head in defeat, and slight embarrassment. 

“I know you think it’s not fair and that you should be the winner of tonight's event, but that would have been too easy and that’s just not something life is… We’ll break down and start again.”

Mr. Jung had always been exceptional at shifting between being a serious and humorous coach, but the current words spoken came from someone who had experienced failure before. From one loser to another, his little words of wisdom helped you get on your feet even if you felt like you were at the lowest point of your adult life. It would still take days to get over your disappointing performance, but you’d be alright. With a pat to your head, he ushered you to wash the blue feelings off. 

While you did that, Mingi found himself once again in the bathroom, wet hands combing through strands of hair in an attempt to look less disheveled and more like he had his shit together (he did in fact not have his shit together). He sniffed the collar of his suit jacket and then his armpits, and as he didn’t detect the smell of sweat, but the aroma of his favorite cologne — that smelled of bergamot and lavender — he straightened the jacket and went out to accomplish his mission or rather plan B. 

Instead of congratulating you, like he initially planned to, he’d do something else — and what that was, he had yet to figure out — but from his own experience, he’d known better than to give you praise, especially after losing by a few points. 

Skipping two steps down the stairs, he stopped by the see-through doors instead of continuing down the hallway with several changing rooms. Mingi didn’t know what room you were assigned to and even if he did, he wasn’t planning on barging in while you were possibly getting dressed or showering. The vision of a soapy you sent heat rushing to his head, both of them, but were quickly discarded as you came out. 

You looked different from the girl twirling on the ice minutes ago. Wet hair and dressed in comfy clothes, no fancy make up or extravagant details, but a solemn expression and puffy eyes. It didn’t matter though because you were still beautiful, he thought and fixed his tie out of sheer anxiety, and opened the door. Your name swayed at the tip of his tongue and was just in need of a small push to reach your ears. Eyes entirely focused on you, Mingi missed the boy walking towards him and slinking through the opening created by the taller man.

“Thanks, bud.” Hyunjin didn’t spare Mingi another glance as he headed straight for you. 

At a loss for words and frozen in place, Mingi just watched you fall comfortably in Hyunjin’s arms and as if a masochist he stood rooted and felt his heart squeeze painfully as you melted in his hold, your sobs filling the bleak silence taking residue in Mingi’s head. 

One, two, three and four seconds later, Mingi headed home, hands stuffed in his pockets and roses left in the trashcan by the smoking area outside. Thinking back to it, he should’ve given them to Chaeyeon’s mom — or whatever her name was — at least then they’d be rotting away on someone’s kitchen table and not in a random bin on the streets of Seoul.

Entering the shared apartment with Yunho nowhere in sight — something Mingi was grateful for — he stripped out of the expensive clothes and pushed them to the back of his closet, saving his future-self from a painful reminder of what did and didn’t happen. Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, he knew not to be angry with you, but the other part, the selfish and angry one, put the entire blame on you. If there was one thing hated more than losing, it was to be made into a fool.

“I can’t believe I lost,” you said and downed a shot of soju. 

Hyunjin quickly snatched the soju bottle from beside you before you could pour yourself another shot, your sixth one to be exact.

You frowned and placed your palms against your heated cheeks. “I’m never figure skating again.”

After the little meet up with Hyunjin, he requested (more like demanded) on treating you to food, and while you insisted he admitted he’d do it either way if you lost or won. That was how you ended up in a meat house, sitting around a table for two as Hyunjin grilled the food. 

“Don’t be silly. If you give up now you’ll never win.”

You rolled your eyes and the frown turned even deeper. Gazing down at the sizzling meat, your mouth watered and stomach rumbled impatiently. You could already taste the savory flavors just by looking at it. 

“I can’t believe you dragged me here looking like this.” 

Hyunjin raised a brow, genuinely not understanding what you meant. To him you looked just fine in a pair of leggings and hoodie, and it didn’t matter that your hair was still wet or your face bare of makeup because you were perfect.

“What’s wrong with the way you look? I think you’re cute.”

A fire lightened in your core and rose up to your cheeks, ears and neck, and the air in the restaurant changed too, suddenly feeling as if you were a chicken sitting in an oven. As your heart didn’t do its usual badum-badum-badum, you realized the effect Hyunjin had on you didn’t appear. You were surprisingly calm. Unbothered even and instead of buzzing with joy you were counting down the seconds until it was time to leave. 

Not to get you wrong, you loved his company. You’d been dreaming of days like these since the first time you laid eyes on him and now that you had it, all you wanted was nothing more than to jump in bed and just go into hibernation, and forget about the world.

Something was telling you though, that even if you were eating meat and celebrating your win, you still wouldn’t feel the spirit of a winner. Deep inside, you knew the root of it. The reason as to why a gray cloud hovered over you — besides losing — and it all led back to the absence of a certain hockey player.

“Here, try this.” Hyunjin gently hand fed you a piece of beef and other fillings wrapped in lettuce. “It’s good, huh?”

“You good there, princess?”

You reeled back, momentarily stunned by the unexpected presence. Mingi grinned at your reaction and sat back. Very satisfied with his work. As he readied his own computer, you took in his appearance and found yourself growing more irritated. There was no denying that he was attractive. Thick pink lips, a straight and sharp nose and a very prominent jaw. His brown eyes were surprisingly relaxed and didn’t resemble those of a fox. The boy was even blessed with not one, but two moles. His knitted sweater was an ugly shade of moss green but it looked good on him, much to your dismay. 

You sighed and sucked through your teeth, “Why are you here?”

Why wasn’t he there?

It was as if the universe was out to get you. 

First, you lost a spot at the Spring Championship. Then you failed an assignment that took a month of your life to get done, and if that wasn’t enough, the representative face of Seoul at next year’s championship was plastered all over town. She was even on the newspaper thrown in your mailbox, which you hadn’t subscribed to! If it weren’t for your personal duo of Chip and Dale, you’d skip school just to avoid it all. 

To say, you were feeling down right shit would be an understatement, and everyone around you could feel it. That was probably why Mr. Jung canceled a whole week’s worth of practice and you couldn’t have been more relieved.

Figure skating was the last thing you needed right now.

Besides your friends and coach giving you space or peppering you with love, there was another person to be added in that equation. Hyunjin made sure to spend more time with you, always asking to go out for lunch or a stroll in the park that usually ended up with window shopping and eating ice cream. 

“Felix and Changbin have been dying to meet you, you know,” Hyunjin stated as he scooped a spoon of chocolate ice cream.

“Really?” 

You remembered Changbin solely by his Halloween party and you pushed aside the other memories that came along with that night. The other boy, Felix, you knew a little next to nothing about. 

“Yeah, they haven’t stopped pestering me about it, especially Changbin.”

“Mmm, have you been talking about me, Hyunjin-ah?” 

The black haired boy grew red at the teasing and nearly choked on the plastic spoon. 

“Wh-what!” 

It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered and it sure was a different sight from his usual composed self. Your chuckle filtered between the giggles and chatter of multiple friend groups. It was a surprise to see so many people outside in the snow. Hyunjin eventually calmed down and returned to his natural skin color, and he proceeded with caution at his next question, slightly afraid to walk straight into another teasing trap.

“They are going to watch that hockey game… if you want, it would be a great time to meet them.”

Truth to be told, you had completely forgotten about that sport and it had everything to do with Mingi, the only connection you had to the hockey team of your university. The last time you saw him was a few days before your performance and you hadn’t seen him since, at one moment you thought he disappeared to another country, but Keeho’s confirmation of seeing him on campus debunked that theory. It wasn’t that weird though, considering you hadn’t stepped foot in the ice rink and didn’t share any classes with him, courtesy of majoring in two completely different studies.

You wouldn’t say it to anyone, not even Dasom, but the less you saw of him, the more bored you got. Obviously, you didn’t miss his irksome comments or that stupid pet name he’d use at any given moment, yet the days seemed to go slower without the pain in the ass of a man. Going to that hockey game would maybe change that, and what better excuse than to go with Hyunjin?

“Of course! I mean,” you cleared your throat. “Of course, I’ll check if I’m free and then I’ll let ya know.”

“Great. It’s next Friday and, unluckily, I pulled the short straw so I’ll be driving… So if you can and want, there's space in my car.”

Parting your mouth to answer, the left side of your brain suddenly halted all your speech function as you caught sight of a familiar figure. 

In the many places of Seoul, he just had to be in the same park as you. Wearing a blue tracksuit with the slogan of a wolf on the front and running sneakers adorning his feet, told you he was out on a late night run. It was quite unfair how even with his hair sticking to his nape and sweat trickling down the sides of his face, Mingi still looked great.

You and Mingi had never been friends — that much you knew — but for him to just run past you without as much as a nod of acknowledgement had you questioning if something was wrong. His exhausted eyes morphed into a nasty glare as they landed on you, which served as a nail in the coffin to your theories.

“Was that Song Mingi?” Hyunjin asked from beside you.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“What’s wrong, bean?”

Laying upside down on your bed with feet tucked beneath your pillow and your head a few inches from the edge apparently wasn’t a normal thing to do if Dasom assumed something was going on.

“Nothing, everything is perfectly fine.” 

Everything was perfectly fine if you ignored the fact that Mingi was angry with you and was intentionally avoiding you like the plague.

“Mmmm.” 

Dasom fell back and mimicked your position, arms thrown out and eyes locked on the ceiling. Some days were like that, spent doing absolutely nothing. Wrapped in big fuzzy blankets laying in either her or your bed, getting lost in space or scrolling endlessly through tiktok until the clock struck the early hours of the morning.

“You still going to that game?”

You huffed, “Yeah. I promised Hyunjin I’d go and he wants to introduce me to some of his friends in return. Is Hongjoong still coming over?”

“He hasn’t rain checked on me yet, so I think so.” She drummed her fingers against her shorts-clad thighs. “Isn’t the game at eight?”

“Yup.”

“Cool. Cool.”

You slid down to the floor, brows furrowed and lips titled. “What time is it?”

“Now?”

“Yes, Dasom. Now.”

“Hmmm, it’s currently seven-thirty.”

“It’s seven-thirty!?”

The blood rushed up to your head at your abrupt movement and the whole room spun as black spots clouded your vision. Left with no choice you laid back down and clutched your skull as you tried taking control of your own body again, all while assessing the situation. The game started at eight and you had approximately thirty minutes to get changed and figure out a way to get there before then. The messages Hyunjin sent you earlier today flashed in your mind and you were starting to regret turning down his offer to pick you up, at least then you wouldn’t risk being late and embarrassing yourself in front of his friends.

“Okay, I’m jumping in the shower real quick while you put together an outfit for me that doesn’t scream ‘I spent five minutes on this’ as I walk through the doors.”

Jumping to her feet with an imaginary tail wagging left and right, she saluted. A determined yet excited look on her face. Besides writing poetry in the dim light of your fridge at three AM, Dasom had a big passion for fashion and would always play dress up with you during your childhood days. 

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

A trail of water followed from the bathroom to the bedroom and stopped below your feet. You stood with a towel wrapped around your bare body as you watched Dasom finalizing your outfit. The clothes on your bed were a baggy gray sweatshirt with bold letters spelling out ‘TORONTO’ — borrowed from Keeho and never returned — and a pair of blue jeans. It didn’t give too much, but was still appropriate for where you were going.

“Okay, go put it on. Have you figured out a way to get there?”

Shimmying on the clothes you heaved out a breath. “Nope.”

“Want me to call Kyo?”

“It’s a Friday so I’m sure he’s pre-gaming with Jiung and the others.”

“That’s true… I mean I could always give you a ride on my bike?”

You laughed at that. The bike in question was bright purple, almost lilac-ish with shimmering tinsel handels and star shaped wheel clips. It was cute, but embarrassing at the same time. Plus it would be a shit-show, you sitting on the carrier holding on for dear life while Dasom would do her best not to run people over. She was not the most trusted driver, hence the lack of a driver’s license (that she’s tried for five times and failed every single one).

“As much as I love you, I’d rather be late than arrive on that oddity and risk a broken arm or leg.”

“Hmpf, well if you don’t appreciate Melody then you can walk there!” She crossed her arms and pouted, her lower lip jutting in a show of feigned hurt.

“I don’t really mean it, Dae-Dae, I love youuuuu! I’ll come back with something nice to make up for it.”

The sour golden retriever-looking girl immediately brightened at the mention of a treat and wrapped her arms around you, her chin digging above your sternum. 

“Can you buy those shrimp chips that I like?” 

“Deal! I seriously gotta go now, I’ll text you when I get there. Kisses and hugs and all that bullshit!”

For once you were grateful not having a car as the parking lot was packed with them and other vehicles. It must have been a big deal if some people just blatantly abandoned their cars on the sidewalk, yellow tickets flapping on their windshields. The match was in full swing and it was everything you could expect of a hockey game. Red and blue blurs of jerseys zoomed past you, the sound of blades against ice, the livid roar of the crowd, cutting blows of a whistle, sticks cracking against the puck sounding like thunder and the thump as an opponent was checked against the boards. Seeing the bleachers full of people wasn’t something you expected when you crossed the entrance. The sides were divided into two parts — red and blue — and while you weren’t about to backstab your own university by sitting with the ‘enemy’ you found no empty seats between the Blue Wolf supporters. The other side wasn’t anything better except for the few vacant seats here and there, and more nude chests and faces covered in paint. 

This was everything but your scenery. 

Staring through the plexiglas you tried spotting the familiar mop of black and white hair you hadn’t seen since God knows when. You gave up as you quickly realized the gear covered almost the entirety of their faces and body proportions, making everyone look identical to one another, the only thing differentiating them being the numbers and colors of their jerseys that did little to help as you didn’t even know his. A pair of hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders and you jumped at the unexpected touch, hastily turning to see who the culprit was and coming face to face with a grinning Hyunjin.

“Boo!”

“Don’t do that!”

His beautiful laugh reached your ears and emitted a chuckle of your own. He coaxed you into his body and enfolded you in a warm embrace that you reciprocated, chin on his shoulder and arms going around his waist. It was first when the hug broke that you could finally take in his full appearance. His whole attire — suit pants, a tucked in turtleneck and leather boots — were completely black except for the long and expensive-looking jean coat and red beanie showing support for the opposing team.

“Let’s go, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.”

Without missing a beat he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers as he gently maneuvered you through the crowd. Every few seconds you flinched as the people jumped up from their seats, cheering or groaning at what was happening down below.

From across the rink in the bench area adjacent to the ice, the red and blue players filled the booths closest to their goalkeepers. The game was in full swing with both teams scoring a point each and neither willing to let up on their explosive paces. The substitute players were all buzzing from excitement or nerves — probably a combination of both — as they shouted encouraging words to the starting lineup. Like the remaining defencemen of the blue team, Mingi sat in the middle with his hockey stick high up in the air and shoulders squishing against his fellow position players, but his eyes weren’t trained on the puck flying from one player to another. No, they were set on the pair of figure skaters on the other side of the rink. More precisely, he was focused on their interlocked hands and the subtle exchange of smiles.

A red light and the loud blaring of the goal horn went off in the arena as the opposing team managed to hurl the puck behind the blue goalkeeper and Mingi could argue it was how he felt on the inside seeing you together. The big crowd jumped from their seats, waving their red merch and screaming words Mingi couldn’t hear over the angry voice of his coach.

“Matthew, what the hell are you doing?!”

“Wow… This is really annoying. We’re only ten minutes into the first period and we’ve already received two points,” Jungkook fumed.

It was weird that neither Mingi or Jungkook were a part of the starting lineup, considering they were up against one of the better teams of the season. Trusting that their coach was making the right decision of keeping them off the ice, Mingi didn’t try persuading him to be put in. There were still two and a half periods left of the game, leaving plenty of time for Mingi to change the course of the match if needed to. It also gave him more time to keep an eye on you and simmer in his own rage, if he just hadn’t lost you in the three seconds he looked away. Frantically searching the bleachers for a girl with a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, you were nowhere to be seen.

“Song!”

The abrupt call of his name snapped him out of his search and he was met with the beetroot red face of his coach. 

“Are you deaf?!”

“Nu-uh. No, sir!”

“Then get off your ass, you’re going in.” As Mingi stood up, his coach threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in closer. “Remember what we talked about. There are scouts watching and they’ve heard great things about this Song Mingi, so show them you’re not all talk, yeah?”

Mingi pushed in his mouth guard and nodded determinedly.

Coach patted him encouragingly and gave one last pat on his helmet for luck.

“Good, get in there and put a stop to their number three.”  

Everything turned to background noise as Mingi leaped over the board and his blades slashed against the cool surface. There was only him and his defending zone, and the fact that you were somewhere in the crowd, probably watching him or getting cozy with that stupid figure skater. The grip around his hockey stick tightened at the image and he hated the effect you still had on him. He should’ve been worrying about being on top of his game and impressing the scouts, and not what you were up to.

Mingi and Matthew held the blue line and passed the puck between each other as the remaining blue players skated around in the offensive zone, searching for an opening to get the puck handed to them. As Mingi slid the puck to Matthew, the bigger defender quickly hurled it to the next player only for the pass to be cut off. 

Going backwards, Mingi immediately retreated home while putting pressure on the puck carrier and simultaneously keeping him from having a clear view of the net. He skillfully managed to push the opposing player (without physical contact) to the side in the defensive zone. He quickly realized that he was closed off and sent the puck diagonally backwards to another red player who moved with such speed, Mingi knew he wouldn't be able to stop the additional player in time. Protests erupted from the bench as all fourteen substitute players had a hunch of what was going to happen.

To his aid came Matthew and the two defensemen managed to shut down a possible counterattack. As the remaining players entered the defending zone, the puck was still in the possession of the red team. It landed in the hold of their number three, who was a few diagonal meters from Mingi. The winger locked gazes with the blue defender and sent him a smug smirk, tauntingly saying ‘watch this’ as he winded his hockey stick up to his shoulder and readied himself for a slapshot.

Losing all control of his body, Mingi changed the trajectory of his movements and skated almost backwards while getting in number three’s sight of line. Mingi waited for the perfect timing and when the red player rushed forward to skate past him, Mingi jutted out his hip, flipping the opponent over him and stealing the puck in the process. Cheers erupted in the arena and Mingi soared at the jumbled praises and roars of encouragement.

“This is Felix and that’s Changbin, they attend TOP University. Lix-ie, Bin-ie, this is the friend I’ve been telling you about,” Hyunjin introduced you as the crowd calmed down.

The two guys weren’t dressed in anything over the top, basic hoodies and joggers or a pair of jeans with small accessories showing their support for the Red Tigers which made you feel out of place with Keeho’s blue scarf wrapped around your neck. You recognized one of them as the guy who hosted that halloween party; buffy build, a triangle shaped head, but kind features.  

“Hey.” 

The deep voice that greeted you didn’t match the sunshine-face of the other boy beside Changbin. A sprinkle of freckles covered his nose and cheeks, his eyes crinkling as he offered you a sun-like smile that matched the color of his hair.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you gently said and sat in the spot beside the sunshine-boy.

“It’s great to finally see the girl this one’s been obsessing about,” Changbin butted in with a teasing grin and earned himself a slap on the thigh by Felix.

“Just ignore him, he loves to tease.”

“Ah, that’s okay. I know banter when I hear it,” you smiled reassuringly and looked at the game below. 

One would think that because ice was your dome, you’d easily understand other winter sports, but you were truly having trouble keeping up with whatever was going on in the newly polished rink. The puck was traveling a hundred miles an hour and the skaters were freakishly fast, you could barely keep up with who was attacking and who was defending. It seemed like the moment one team scored, the other was immediately taking back a point. On top of all, you had zero knowledge about the rules. To say you were surprised when a — what looked to be dangerous and illegal — tackle occurred, would be an understatement. You expected at least someone to jump out of sheer anger, but no one batted an eye. They just kept watching and the players resumed as if it were the most normal thing of the day.

“Do you want to die?” Chan growled as he bumped shoulders with Mingi, getting all up in the defenseman’s face.

The chants of the Blue Wolves’ fans sent another surge of adrenaline through Mingi’s veins, not that he needed it, but gave him an ego boost to return the cockiness to the max.

“I should be asking you that. Don’t think you can get past us just like that. I’ll shut you down, Chan-hyung.”

In any other circumstance and in a conversation with quite literally anyone else, the use of honorific wouldn’t have been out of place, but hearing it come from Mingi wasn’t an indication of respect. It was a ploy to humiliate him and a way to set the tone of the game. In other words, telling him not to expect an easy win. Chan didn’t think anything less.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Mingi scoffed, a smirk of triumph playing across his lips. “I already did and guess what, hyung. I’ll do it again and again, and again. You will not get past me. I’ll knock you down until your ass makes a dent on the ice.”

Returning the ever-so-kind favor of butting shoulders, Mingi pushed past him and stopped right behind his center, ready to receive the puck or defend if the odds played out in the red team’s favor.

“I’m sorry about what happened at the preliminaries,” Felix smiled empathically and placed a hand on your shoulder for support. “If it makes you feel better, I thought you were perfect and deserved to win.” 

You forced a smile at the reminder of the event. The wound was still fresh and even though Felix didn’t have any ill intentions with bringing it up, it still didn’t spare you from the bitter taste of winning — if it could even be considered a victory — second place.

“Thank you, but the jury is rarely ever wrong.”

“Tell me about it,” he started and focused momentarily on the game again. “It still doesn’t change my opinion on who should’ve won though.”

Before you could thank him again and express your gratitude to his kindness, Hyunjin joined the conversation. “Oh, I see you’ve found yourself a new figure skating partner.” 

Glancing from Felix to Hyunjin and back to Felix again, you pointed at the freckled boy. “You’re a figure skater too?”

“Yup, I've been training with Jin-ie since elementary school. A tick would be easier to shake off than him.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, everyone practically begged you to sit beside them but no, little Lixie the new student decided it would be best to annoy Hyunjin-ie in the back.” 

With a witty remark waiting on the tip of his tongue, Felix parted his lips, but was interrupted by Changbin abruptly standing up, hands clasped around his mouth and shouting, “Come on Chan! Don’t let him get away with that!”

Glancing down at the rink, you noticed number three in the red team was pushed against the border with a blue guy towering over him. Both guys seemed to be communicating through their eyes and if it weren’t for their teammates getting in between, you were sure a full on fist fight would’ve taken place in front of everyone.

“You’d think Chan was his boyfriend and not mine,” Felix said to you — more so screamed over the loud cheers and hollers of distress — and watched an agitated Changbin slump back down in his seat, eyes following the flying puck kissing the net of the red goalkeeper.

“Boyfriend?” 

“Ah, right, of course Hyunjin wouldn’t talk about his friends. Anyways I’m dating number three in the red team, maybe you’ve heard of him. Bang Chan or Christopher, whatever seems fitting.”

Your mouth turned into an ‘o’ as the puzzle pieces clasped together. Felix never stopped smiling and even chuckled at your reaction. He found you endearing and understood why Hyunjin wouldn’t stop talking about you during their study sessions. 

“I take it, you know him?”

“Mmmm, I wouldn’t say I know him but we had a brief encounter at a halloween party.”

“Ah, that’s cool. The world is really small, isn’t it?”

The buzzer beat you to an answer, indicating that the twenty minutes of the second period were out. 

“Oh, and that’s halftime,” Felix said and stood up to stretch. 

Changbin shot him a deadly stare, as if the figure skater cursed out his entire family. “You know it’s not called that. It’s an intermission!”

“Eh, we don’t keep up with all that in Australia. Halftime is halftime in whatever sport you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were Australian,” you admitted.

“What, really?” He said in English and then switched back to Korean. “All the people I meet point out I speak with an accent so I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, now that you’ve said it I can actually hear like the faintest accent. Oh, that’s embarrassing of me.” You sheepishly smiled and scratched the back of your head.

“Nah, not really. Anyway, Bin-ie and I are gonna get some snacks, you guys want anything?”

“I’m alright, thank you though.”

Felix threw you a thumbs up and looked at Hyunjin for his reply.

“Yeah, surprise me with something good.”

“Gotcha! We’ll be back like a lil’ before they start if we don’t get held up by the bathrooms. Changbin sure does love to take his time there.”

As the duo followed the crowd out, you and Hyunjin fell into a comfortable silence and listened to the chatter of the people around you. For being your first time at a hockey game, you weren’t bored at all, despite being oblivious to the set of rules. Keeho did say something about fights being legal and you sincerely hoped to avoid that. The sport on ice you were aware of was so less violent, flashy and fast paced. It was so different from your figure skating which was more or less art or a story being conveyed by body language. 

Nonetheless, you were still having a good time, even though much of it was spent getting acquainted with Hyunjin’s friends.

“So… what do you think of the game so far?”

Snapping from the ice taken over by a bunch of kids chasing each other and falling on their rears, you hummed and looked back at Hyunjin who already had his eyes on you.

“It’s interesting. I mean, it’s nothing like figure skating, obviously, but it’s cool… Do you guys always do this? Watch hockey?”

“Mmm, not always, but whenever Chan has a game we try to show our support just like he does whenever Lix or I have anything going on with our figure skating.”

“That’s sweet of you. That’s actually really cute,” you gushed and the thought reminded you of your own friend group. How Keeho and Dasom showed up at your competitions or the many times you and Keeho attended Dasom’s poetry slam.

Hyunjin leaned closer to you, a playful smile across his features. “I don’t like being called cute, but considering it’s coming from you I’ll let it slide.”

Taken back by the almost flirtatious side of Hyunjin, you bashfully looked away and cheekily covered your mouth, hiding the way your smile expanded at his comment. Hyunjin, attentive as always, took notice of the action and chuckled.

“How, uhm…” 

You leaned back in your seat and braided your fingers together as the change of topic went from cheerful to sullen.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of those two, but yeah… How you holding up?”

Still trying to hold up your happy expression, you faced him and tilted your head, and Hyunjin had to physically hold back from planting a kiss on your cute nose. 

“I’ve been alright. There’s not much I can do to be honest and I don’t want to dwell on it more than necessary, you know?”

“That’s understandable. Why think about the things that make you feel bad?”

“Exactly. I’ve decided to focus on the more happier things in life.” You grimaced as a hockey player tripped and smacked head first into the plastic glass. “Even if that is watching people get concussions for just 13.000 won.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing, elegantly covering his mouth with the back of his hand and tipping his head backwards. A laugh of your own lingered with his and the multiple cheers in the air. 

“Three for three, Jeon Jungkook does it again! The nimble winger of the Blue Wolves can’t be stopped!” 

The announcement sounded through the arena a few seconds after the red lights flashed behind the Tiger’s goal and buzzer erupted, nearly rupturing your eardrums. Jungkook was really on a blast tonight, you thought as you followed his retreating figure, making a mental note of remembering his jersey number. Although you had yet to find Mingi, you felt proud for at least figuring out Jungkook and Chan, completely dismissing the fact that you barely knew a handful of players on the ice.

“You’re doing great out there, Kookie.” Mingi dunked him on the back as they retreated to the neutral zone. “Make that into five out of five and I’ll treat you to some lamb skewers.”

The smirk stretched across Jungkook’s face could only be described as menacingly and with  him in his element, Mingi knew they weren’t going to go down without a fight. 

“Add steamed dumplings into the mix and I’ll double it.”

As the referee held the puck in the air between the red and blue centers, the rest of the players prepared themselves for another brawl over who put the puck behind the opposing net. Mingi was warm all over, and the extra weight of pads and equipment was taking a toll on his body, as well as defending his home base, but each time a player was stopped, the pride was enough to resurrect his energy. Glancing slightly to the side, everything moved in slow motion as he briefly made eye contact with the supporters of both teams. Some were screaming at him out of happiness and others with harmless distaste, angry at his ability to shut down the reds’ plays and advances. Moving further up the rows, it was like a headlight lit up a spot in the crowd, and suddenly, amongst the hundreds of people, he could make you out like a tulip in the middle of a meadow.

The hold around his stick tightened seeing you squished between pretty boy and an unrecognizable face, and Mingi promised he didn’t care. He didn’t care as pretty boy whispered something in your ear and he definitely didn’t care as you flung your head backward, and let out what probably was the most angelic laughter known to heaven. Smoke erupted from his nostrils and the moment the puck was in possession of the red team, the vibrant colored jerseys irked him like a matador irritatnig a bull. As the puck was in play, all sound ceased to exist and Mingi zeroed in on the players advancing forward. 

Mingi would describe it as being underwater with all the noise distant and his movement sluggish no matter how hard he tried to lift his limbs, and if  he wasn’t so aware of his surroundings, Mingi would certainly think he was losing one of his five senses. 

See, although ice hockey was a sport all about seeing and physical contact, hearing was an important part too and if Mingi wasn’t revolted by your presence, he wouldn’t have missed the referee signaling an offside, and he wouldn’t have skated into the first player daring to cross the blue line that separated the defending and neutral zone.

The referee immediately blew his whistle and fully extended his right arm, fist clenched and eyes set on the defenseman, and time turned back to normal as a pop-like sound burst in Mingi’s ears. He barely managed to realize what happened when another body collided against his, pushing him straight into the boards. Chaos ensued as multiple players got involved trying to ease the situation, but the damage was already done and Mingi was sent to the penalty box — purposely avoiding the heavy gazes of the blue bench — along with whichever guy flew into him.

He cursed out loud as he slumped down on the bench. This was embarrassing on so many levels. It was one thing to ram into someone as payback, but lashing out for no apparent reason and after the whistle was (almost) unacceptable. He wanted to laugh at his stupidity; so much for not caring. 

“What happened?” You asked no one in particular, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Ah, that Song Mingi, always up to no good,” Changbin grumbled, more so to himself than you. 

You snapped your eyes to the plastic enclosure the blue player was sent off to and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. Through the year you had known Mingi, you’d never guess he could really use his size and strength to quite literally floor another person. Hockey was a rough sport, that wasn’t news to you, and considering Mingi could use his strength to his advantage, it was probably why he was so sought after. You couldn’t shake away this feeling of awareness. Just now realizing how… big Mingi actually was and you didn't know whether it was relief or pride, knowing that of all the times you pushed him over the edge, never once did he raise a finger at you out of anger or spite. 

Mingi may have been an asshole with 70% height and muscle, but he wasn’t a bad guy. 

“That’s called roughing,” Felix started explaining. “It’s like… I wouldn’t say it’s an illegal move, but if done out of motive or in a way to really hurt the other player, it could lead to a minor penalty — a timeout — or game misconduct. But it all depends on how bad the situation is.”

“So he won’t play until the end of the game?”

“Nah, he’ll probably be out in like a few minutes,” Hyunjin answered for you and clapped as the red team scored, evening out the score board to five-five.

“Then the blue team will be a player short up until then?.”

“Pretty much,” Felix confirmed and popped a chip in his mouth.

You didn’t see how that could be fair, but then again, ice hockey wasn’t your forthe and as no one in the crowd was making a fuss over Mingi’s penalty — except for pointing out his poor judgment — you didn’t say much else, but hum in agreement. For twelve minutes, you didn’t pay attention to what was happening on the ice, only applauding when the crowd did and slumped back in your seat as the supporters groaned in disappointment. Your full attention was set on the lone player in the plastic box. 

Worry, confusion and pity circled your mind and you wondered if this was how everyone felt seeing the placement of your figure skating competition. As soon as the thought made home in your head, you shooed it away, reminding yourself to focus on the happy things and not everything that was blue. 

Forcing your eyes from Mingi, the most blue thing in the arena (both clothing and emotion wise) you zoned out and the players blurred into small vivid spots twirling on the ice like flies above a bowl of fruit. You didn’t understand where the worry came from or why it decided to take shelter in your stomach. It probably wasn’t Mingi’s first rodeo in the penalty box and wouldn’t be the last on either, and you recognized his sudden outburst as the one you saw a glimpse of at the party, right before you left him with that blonde police officer. 

Mingi never lashed out in anger and if he did, you were never on the receiving end of it despite giving him back a tenfold of insults he greeted you with. Seeing him quite literally floor a guy his size, made your guts twist in discomfort. It was an emotion that didn’t look good on him at all. 

The game was growing more intense with each minute passing and the atmosphere amongst the audience was also getting rowdier as the teams were practically neck and neck, neither willing to let up. The second Mingi stepped foot on the ice again, the whole arena blew up with cheers. It was like the almost extinguished torch of hope re-awakened into a bright and lively fire, and you too held onto the light of hope that the Blue Wolves would take it home, definitely because of your loyalty to Tiny University and not the growing affection for a certain defender in said school. 

The puck was flying from one side of the rink to the other in just a matter of seconds with all players, excluding the goalkeepers, circling around and cashing the rubber like stone. 

“Here, wanna help me hold this up?”

You didn’t know how you missed the big sign leaning against Felix’s legs, but you did. With a nod of agreement, you both took hold of each side of the white cardboard cutout and quickly looked at the glittery blue writing on it. 

I am Chan’s #1 fan. 

“Don’t judge, I made it like last second.” A blush kissed his cheeks and his eyes squeezed into crescent moons as you read the corny line.

“No, no! I think it’s cute.”

With ten seconds left of the game everyone in the arena stood up which made you and Felix raise the sign even higher. When everyone thought the game would end in a tie, a player from the defending line of the blue team somehow managed to steal the puck from two red players and sent it hurling across the rink, right in the sanctuary of his teammate’s stick who calculatedly launched it towards the red goal and past its keeper. The buzzer went off and chaos ensued. From what you could see all the Blue Wolves players crowded the scorer and dunked the defender who sent the winning assist, while the fans raised the volume through the roof. Whistling, cheers, laughter, even some old fashion booing circulated the arena.

Not all that upset with the outcome of the game, Felix applauded and turned to his friend who seemed to be quite butthurt. “Song really is crazy good, isn’t he Bin-ie?”

“Whatever, he’s lucky Jake sprained his ankle and couldn’t play today or he’d have them all eating ice. Ha! Get it, cause they’re playing on i–”

The rest of the conversation was tuned out as you focused on the celebrating team, trying to catch sight of eighty-nine. Your eyes traveled from one bulky player to another and then, as if your prayers were answered, the player came right into view. 

Mingi walked beside a shorter guy clad in blue and you assumed it was Chan by the sole way he pointed up at you and the other guys. Your suspicion was confirmed as the helmet was removed and Chan’s face was illuminated by the strong lights. You could just make out the faint movement of his mouth, saying something to the giant beside him. 

“Good to know your girl is cheering for the right team, Mings.”

Mingi followed the invisible line leading to where you stood and scanned the group of friends. He immediately recognized Hyunjin and the buff one, and he didn’t even manage to take a proper look at the third boy as his eyes found yours. Beautiful as ever, he thought and admired as much of you as possible. Your face, clothes, make-up and everything about you was perfect, and the passive aggressive comment was almost brushed to the side until he zeroed in on the paper in your hands. It was in that moment that the rose-tinted glasses slipped down his nose, jealousy quick to seep into every corner of his existence and he remembered why he’d been avoiding you for weeks.

Before he could send you a sharp (and unjustified) glare, he redirected his anger to the guy beside him. 

“Oh, don’t be like that. She was the one to look at me first.

Mingi wasn’t a violent person, he really wasn’t, but there was no acceptable excuse for why he did what he did. 

As if born ready for this day, Mingi used his teeth to tear off his gloves and pounced on Chan. One hand grabbed around the collar of his red jersey as the other was colliding with his cheek. He managed to get in two more punches — the first successfully collided with Chan’s jaw and the second just barely missed the bone of his nose — before Chan used his own limbs to defend himself. The red winger grabbed hold of Mingi’s helmet and snatched it off his head, and seized the chance to send a fist flying in his face, returning the punches he received from the blue defender. Red bruises quickly littered across their knuckles and warm blood covered their skin, the thick liquid pouring from both Chan’s nose and Mingi’s lip.

The crowd was going wild, the whistles of the referees were being ignored and it didn’t take long before the remaining players of each team were trying to separate the two brutes. 

“Oh my God!” 

Felix and Changbin flinched at your gasp. 

“He’s fucking crazy. Hey! What the hell?!” Changbin jumped between the seats and rocketed down towards the ice with the rest of you hot on his heels.

The silence was deafening. Everyone was curious as to what was going on and why a fight ensued now that the game was over, usually the nose breaking happened on ice and not off. Whispers and rumors spread like a wildfire, some claimed it was the aftermath of adrenaline while others thought of something more extreme like hard drugs taking over. Nonetheless, the crowd riled them on, clearly finding joy in the brawl. You weren’t anywhere near when the referees and teammates broke them up, Mingi being forcefully sent towards the locker room as Chan stayed laying on the ground, crimson face and teeth no longer pearly white.

“What the hell, Mingi,” you muttered under your breath and slipped through the mass of people, running to where you assumed he’d be. 

Your head was working a hundred miles an hour with the images of Mingi hunched over Chan, fists violently beating the blonde and a lot of blood covering his face. You were sure you’d never get them out of your head and you shuddered at the amount of red that ran down Chan’s nose. For the sake of the giant asshole you grew attached to, you hoped it wouldn’t put a stop to his career, both school- and sportwise. It would by far be his dumbest decision yet. For what even?

A group of reporters stood outside a door you assumed was reserved for the Blue Wolves and if that wasn’t enough of a give away then it was the loud cheers and victory singing echoing out to the hallway. In reality you wanted nothing more than to barge inside and interrupt their celebration — how they could celebrate after that bloodbath was still something you couldn’t wrap your head around — but you did no such thing. The moment the door opened you pushed the reporters aside and flew in with your head first, paying no mind to the perverse wolf whistles and cheers of the adrenaline drunken boys. You didn’t even bother with them as your eyes scanned the room that smelled of sweat and axe deodorant for him. Jungkook, seemingly the most normal one there (which spoke volumes), quickly understood why you were there and approached you with no teasing glint or malice in his gaze.

“Try looking by the abandoned gym on the ground floor. There’s a vending machine there we usually go to so I assume if he’s taken off somewhere it should be there.” 

You wasted no time in turning on your heel and practically sprinting down the route you repeated like a mantra. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine.

Lo and behold, he was right there and if it weren’t for the worry growing in your belly you’d go back upstairs and reward the playboy with a big smooch to his rosy lips. 

Mingi sat down on the floor, legs up to his chest and forearms folded on his knees. His sweaty forehead was leaning against the skin of his arm and an anxious rhythm of his heart beat in his chest. It was hard to miss the red on his knuckles. Inhaling a shaky breath as if it would steady your own heart, your feet stopped before him falling right in his line of sight. Surprised at the unexpected company, Mingi looked up and got a first row ticket of the concern swimming in your eyes. You didn’t know what to expect going after him, but the annoyed — almost disgusted — scoff he let out cut through you like a knife and twisted as he looked back down. Despite the act of annoyance aimed at you, Mingi wasn’t actually that annoyed with you but rather with himself because after everything he still had the urge to reach for your touch and he hated it. His jaw clenched at the circumstance and his nails dug in the palms of his hands. You weren’t even supposed to be here, it made everything ten times harder than it should’ve been.

Having had enough of his pity party Mingi and the weight of your gaze judging him, he pushed up from his position and walked right past you. No hello, no second glances, just walking as if you were a ghost he couldn’t see let alone feel. His movements halted when you latched onto one of his wrists, knowing that if he truly wanted to get away he’d shake you off like a ragdoll and be on his merry way. Although he was with his back facing you, the fact that he stood  rooted to the ground was the approval you seeked to continue with your winged attempt at getting him to speak.

“Mingi, what the hell was that?” 

The two of you weren’t heavy on the use of honorifics, but hearing you spit his name out like that surely sent a shiver down his spine. You weren’t pissed off, he noticed, you were actually worried and it was quite amusing. The nerve you had of showing up after that fiasco to interrogate him about his actions. Who the hell did you think you were?

“Huh? Why did you do that?” Shaking his arm, you tried again. “Can you please say something? I’m worried for you and your silence isn’t helping, please just say something.”

Mingi didn’t budge and you were starting to lose it. The avoidance wasn't enough, now he was blatantly ignoring your attempt at helping too.

“What is your problem?! I’m trying to help you, something’s obviously happened so why won’t you tell me!”

Ripping his wrist out of your hold, he turned around and it took every particle in you not to cower at his sharp eyes staring you down. 

“You want to know what my problem is?” His loud voice bounced off the walls and punched you right in the gut. 

There was so much anger in his gaze, his tone and his body. Everything screamed of anger and you didn’t even know why you were on the receiving end of his emotions. You were just trying to help.

“You! You are my fucking problem!”

“What?”

“As if you don’t know what you’re doing. Acting all nice and cutesy like we are friends, like you’re interested in ever befriending me which now that I think about is so stupid because you and I? What a joke. We’re a fucking joke!”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Mingi scoffed again. He looked to the side, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. There were so many thoughts going through his head and all he could think about was what words to use to hurt you the most. To make you feel the hurt he did.

“First, you invite me to your stupid competition and then you come to my game sitting with him! Was this all a game, huh? To get back at me for all the dumb shit I did to you because if it is then wow, you’ve really proven yourself to be more shallow and boneless than I ever thought. I mean, you’re really going out of your way to get under my skin and act like a fucking–”

Mingi closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut, the veins on his neck were more prominent than ever and his face was almost identical to the red color of Dasom’s hair. He really needed to calm down before he said something he’d regret. Not that it mattered, the damage was already done and he knew the aftermath was already biting him in the ass. Shit, the look of your glossy eyes was quick to make his inside burn with remorse.

Each insult was a poisoned arrow aimed at your heart. The words physically hurt you more than ever before and you weren’t aware just how mean Mingi could be. Your previous bickering never stooped on a level this low before and it brought tears to your eyes but even that wasn't enough to stop his rant. Not wanting to be caught vulnerable in front of the guy who was practically stepping on you with his shoes, you quickly wiped away the tears that managed to escape.

Mingi knew he was taking his frustration out on you and he knew it wasn’t fair because you hadn’t done anything wrong. It all kept piling on his shoulders. All the instances he saw you two together; the joint practices, your embarrassed giggles any time Hyunjin breathed, watching him console you in the hallways like a poor reenactment of a romcom, sitting so close together at his game, shoulders touching a little too close for Mingi’s liking… If that stupid piece of cardboard was a bomb waiting to be activated, then Chan was the flame that set everything off. 

“Oh, great. This is really great now you’re fucking crying too. You think some tears are going to make me feel bad? They won’t, I don’t care anymore okay? I’m done with you and your fucking shit. So go back to your prince fucking charming and don’t even bother looking for me, you hear? I’m fucking done!” 

You shrunk back at his unwavering and stern voice. Having nothing more to say Mingi stormed away, blood boiling and hands shaking as the final words set in. The last you saw of him before gut-wrenching sobs wrecked your body was the door slamming up against the wall and back the doorframe so hard the walls vibrated. And later that same night when Mingi got home, he wouldn’t even be surprised if you decided to never look at him again, let alone speak with him. 

Different emotions tore you apart and it was hard to make sense of anything that happened in the past ten minutes. The questions — what, why, how — were endless and you wanted to go home, preferably dig a hole in your bed and not come out until better days, whenever that would be you didn’t know. Tears burned your cheeks like lava and snot tickled your nose, dropping off your chin and onto your shirt. With the already wet sleeve of your sweater you wiped everything off your face, not in the right mind to care about what Keeho would say about his precious shirt. Like a baby cub seeking its momma bear for comfort, you retreated home yearning for the closest touch of a mother you could find.

“You have reached the voicemail of Choi Dasom. Please leave a message after the beep.”

After the fifth attempted call, you gave up and continued trudging home. Dark clouds hovered over Seoul and the light pelts of rain quickly became a downpour. Being picked up on Dasom’s bike didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Unlocking the front door of your shared apartment you were greeted with Hongjoong and Dasom sitting awfully close on the couch. They jumped apart as you harshly dropped the keys in the fruit bowl and froze at the sight of you; bawling, wet and shivering. Skipping the formalities you wasted no time diving in the shower and by the time you ventured back out, Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen as if the boy was never there to begin with and you couldn’t have been more relieved. You’ve had enough boys for the next ten years of your life.

“Beans?” 

It was probably the dumbest thing to cry about, but your lips still quivered and the tears you just managed to stop surfaced at the nickname. The girl caught you in her arms and you buried your head in her shoulder as your cries got louder. Dasom offered you solace with gentle rubs to your back and patiently waited until your labored breathing became even. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” she whispered and slowly guided you to your bedroom. 

Attentive as always she helped you get under the covers and shuffled in beside you to which you immediately buried your face in her bosom, her hand slank under your neck and connected with the other at the back of your head. You lay there in each other’s presence and listened to the coexisting beat of your hearts. Dasom didn’t try coaxing the troubles out of you and you heaved out a big breath. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at the constant tears and after waking up from passing out of exhaustion, you knew you’d be a victim of an unbearable headache and heavy feet. The whisper of your name was loud in the silent room and you hummed in reply, letting the other girl know you were in fact awake.

“You wanna talk about it?”

The most obvious thing would be to talk about it; talk about why you burst through the door, face wet and not entirely because of the rain. Your mom always told you to never sleep with an empty stomach, a busy mind or a heavy heart and while you didn’t appreciate the advice at the minute, future-you would (hopefully) think back to this moment and thank you for your courage. Dasom followed in tow as you sat up criss-crossed, taking your hands in hers and giving them comforting squeezes every once in a while. By the time she was pulled through the story of your evening — meeting Changbin and Felix, having a good time with Hyunjin, to seeing Mingi beat the living shit out of Chan and then him lashing out on you — the clock struck somewhere between two and three in the morning, courtesy of a few short crying breaks in between. Glancing up at your friend who was still digesting the events, you felt lighter at the thought of having your very own sun sharing warmth and hope wherever she went.

“He likes you,” she eventually said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You sniffled and wiped at your nose again, hands falling to play with the bedsheet. 

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know who I’m talking about?”

You thought you ran out of tears hours ago but were proven wrong as a new batch stung your eyes and eventually trickled down your sore cheeks. Dasom pulled you in another soul crushing hug and held the back of your head, nails gently massaging your scalp.

“Why are you crying, bean?”

Through tears and her thick cardigan you replied. “Because we aren’t talking about Hyunjin, are we? He’s the one we should be talking about.”

“But we aren’t and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

It felt wrong crying over someone who held no significance in your life just a few months ago. The same guy who riled you up like it was his daily dose of sunshine and who set it as his life mission to have you curse him out. The guy who called you stupidly cute nicknames and walked you home at night, offering up his jacket to keep you warm and safe from colds. The guy who didn't turn up to your competition and then lived in your head like an annoying song playing on repeat refusing to disappear. The same guy who shook you to your core with his angry words and fiery gaze.

“Why am I like this?”

“Like what?” 

Dasom wasn’t foolish. She knew what you were going through and could only hope you’d come to terms with the unknown feelings rather than to be the one revealing the reason behind your heartbreak. 

“Drawn to a guy who’s mean and an asshole when I have the perfect one right there, waiting and catering to my every need.”

“I know I’m supposed to hate him for the things he’s said to you and I do, I really do bean…. so if you think I won’t at least glare him down in the hallways then I’m revoking your position as my best friend… But I’m going to be completely honest with you, bean because that’s what you deserve. I think something else must have triggered him to lash out, it couldn’t just have been because you were simply sitting beside Hyunjin.”

She gently played with your hair as the words sank in.

“He really hurt me.”

“I know, bubs and I’m so sorry. Know that nothing excuses that behavior.”

“Then why do I still think of him even when he’s shit. Why won’t my brain let me be happy with Hyunjin?” You broke from the huge and fell back on the bed, hands gripping the sheets as if they held all the answers to your questions. 

“Hyunjin is safe. We all like the safe and predictable, right?” 

Your nod of agreement spurred her on. 

“But Mingi, oh Mingi, is exciting. He drives you crazy, keeps you on your toes and throws you off course yet you can’t ever really get enough of him no matter how much it annoys you. I see it and I’ve been seeing it for months now and I promise this is the most objective version of me speaking right now.”

“But I like Hyunjin,” you whined, refusing to accept your own feelings.

“And you like me and Kyo too,” Dasom whispered softly, like a breeze passing through a field. “But we don’t fall in Mingi’s category.”

The days leading up to the holidays were spent within the four walls of your room waiting for the time to pass until you’d take your suitcase and haul ass across the country, definitely not because you were afraid to stumble across the very person you were avoiding. After the not so pleasant discovery you didn’t know what to make of yourself or your feelings. You couldn’t just phone him and proclaim your undying love because last time you checked, he explicitly made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you. You from a few months ago would throw a party big enough to think it was for a quinceañera or a sweet sixteen celebration with this information, but the present-you acted like Bella Swan during the disappearance of Edward Cullen just a tad bit less depressing.

Dasom was the first to leave. Her parents surprised her with a vacation to Jeju-island and her flight left the first morning of winter break. Keeho was still in the city but with college out of the way, he took on more working hours than usual. His immediate family lived in Canada and the plane ticket would be more expensive than the salary he’d get over the next two weeks. With your two friends unavailable you passed time thinking about the one who shall not be named and realized how unfortunate the whole situation was. You also realized you probably wouldn’t act upon your feelings as you didn’t with Hyunjin and would just let them flow until evaporating into thin air. 

Speaking of Hyunjin, you and him still texted back and forth albeit the conversations were slow and not nearly as exciting as you once found them to be. Your sudden disappearance at the hockey game was covered with a quick lie of ‘not feeling well’, which he immediately believed because, why wouldn’t he? Christmas wasn't anything special. It started with an early message of Hyunjin wishing you a Merry Christmas attached with a selfie of him in a Santa hat and fake beard, and the rest of the day was spent inside with your family watching movies and drinking hot cocoa. 

The new year was welcomed on the couch where a bump would sooner or later be formed and that alone was enough to explain the excitement level in the household. You all went to sleep a little after midnight and as you laid in your childhood bedroom, feet almost sticking out of the small bed, you mindlessly scrolled down the explore section of Instagram. A pang of sadness struck you at the picture staring back at you through the screen. It was a post of Mingi and his friend — the golden retriever looking one — posing on a snowy mountain both clad in skiing gear. The taller of the two had an arm slung over Mingi’s shoulder who, in return, sported a boyish grin and held up a peace sign. The split lip had healed perfectly and the only indicator of him being in a fight was the slight plum colored mark under his eye (courtesy of a nice punch delivered to his nose). At least someone was happy with you out of their lives. 

Angry, sad and just tired, you exited the app and shoved your phone under the pillow drowning out your scream. You didn’t even know why his post landed on your feed. Wasn’t the explore page supposed to show videos of millennials doing cringy trends and not the most recent activity of the dude that shit all over you.

This continued on for days. While you were decomposing in your room he was updating his Instagram account as if a celebrity. Pictures and videos of him clubbing until the early hours of the morning, pretty girls and tables full of alcohol captured in short stories and then a complete 180; sharing clips of him flying down snowy mountains, doing stunts and whatnot.

If he was so upset with you, why were you the one wasting days self wallowing? It wasn’t like you could party away the worry. Your hometown was the size of a nut meaning A) you knew everyone and their mother, and B) every person in a ten mile radius was well-over the age of forty and the closest thing that came as a party would be the retirement home down the street. Then again, playing bingo with the grannies was better than binge watching gut-wrenching dramas. At least you’d be clearing your ‘to watch-list’.

The weeks passed in a blur and, before you knew it, you were back in the comfort of your apartment with two days to spare until classes started rolling again. Dasom would be home the day after and Keeho was either passed out in his apartment or working his second shift of the day, leaving you to unpack the chaos sealed inside your suitcase. Swirls of snow beat violently against the windows, turning the outside world into a winter wonderland. The heavy weather picked up on your journey home and as you traveled halfway back to Seoul, the ground was slowly being covered in white flakes. You only got so far with your unpacking when a series of knocks rattled against the front door. 

“What’s uuuuup?!” Keeho screeched as you opened the door and an equally excited Dasom rolled in with her red large suitcase. 

“What are you doing here?!” 

They pulled you into a hug. Keeho’s loudness and Dasom’s giggles warmed up the place in no time and you immediately felt better.

“Surprise!”

“I hate you guys!” You exclaimed and squeezed their waists, head resting on Keeho’s shoulder with Dasom’s nose buried against your chest.

“Don’t lie, we know you love us. Now let’s get this bitch started!”

Scurrying to the kitchen Keeho brought back three animated cups; one with Naruto, Totoro and–

“You’re not drinking beer from the cup plastered with a picture of my dead cat!”

“Of course not, that one’s yours. Mine’s the Naruto one and Dasom gets Totoro, for obvious reasons.”

Said girl skipped quickly to the pantry and pulled out multiple bags of snacks. The huge smile on her face got you all curious.

“What’s got you all happy?”

“Nothing, I've just missed you guys! Jeju was fun but it would’ve been better with you there,” she pouted and poured the snacks into separate bowls.

“Pfft, don’t listen to her. She’s been texting that Cruella de Vil boy all winter break.”

Her smile grew and grew until it was a full blown grin and you squealed in delight, genuinely happy for your friend despite the green monster gnawing at the back of your head. 

“Tell me everything, c’mon!”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The fun and what would be the start of a girls’ night was interrupted by Keeho. “I should be the one asking you that, little miss I’m in love with my greatest enemy.”

Gasping, you turned to Dasom. “You told him?!”

“So it’s true?!” 

He leaned towards you and nearly snickered as your hands covered your mouth — if it weren’t for the serious circumstance — and stared at him with wide eyes. You walked right into his trap and as you told him everything that happened — the good and the bad — Dasom threw her hand out, palm facing upward..

“Pay up, pretty boy!”

“They aren’t even together!”

Dasom, a feral little chihuahua, jumped on him and a wrestling match took place in the middle of the living room. You couldn’t find it in you to be mad or upset. Leaning back against your arms, you watched them with a smile tugging at your lips. This is what you missed back in your childhood home. As much as you loved your family, the one you built in the heart of Seoul was very dear to you.

The ding of your phone snapped you out of your love-struck daze.

Hyunjin [07:16 PM] you back home yet?

You [07:16 PM] yeah, arrived a few hours ago

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] im glad

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] how was it?

You [07:17 PM] Good to see the family again but God did I miss my bed

You [07:17 PM] What were you up to?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] yeah no kiddin ik exactly what u mean

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] Nothing much, did a lot of practice on the choreo w Iseul

You [07:17 PM] Ohhhh how’s that coming along?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] it’s good but nowhere near perfect

You scoffed at the reply.

You [07:17 PM] I’m sure you’ll get it down in no time

Keeho harshly grabbed your shoulders, peering down at the screen but not comprehending any of the words.

“And who are you texting?” 

“Hyunjin.”

“Hyunjin!” Dasom sang, already tipsy from the soju she downed while you were busy typing away.

“And what does Mr. Popular want?"

Hyunjin [07:19 PM] wanna help me practice? 

Author's note pt.2: There's one thing I'd like to say regarding this chapter. When it comes to significant others, situation ships, partners, etc do not ever let anyone speak to you in a condescending matter. It doesn't matter how upset they are or what you've done for them to explode, you should never, and I really mean NEVER let anyone talk down to you. The only reason I didn't make MC obliterate Mingi is for the sake of the story, otherwise I'd have her drag him along the streets of Seoul like a dog, lmao. Anyway, if anyone speaks to you like Mingi did to MC in their fighting scene, please either leave/break up or put them in their place. You deserve to be treated with respect and love as much as anyone else.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Do you remember my skincare mini series? Do you remember how Rain and Lus were kind of mean to Mountain? I felt kind of bad about that.

the day is long enough to turn you into stone

(contains: Gentle sex near the end, 2k words of mountain getting rubbed down and loved on, trans!rain topping, the glory of a naked cumulus, cockwarming and handfeeding. Written in one go so if something's wrong, no it's not. Unless it's really bad. Will throw it on ao3 whenever.)

Mountain’s been on the move long before dawn, boots on the ground with just enough coffee in his system to convince his aching eyes to open and his tired mind to pay attention. It's the last day in a long stretch of many working ones bedding the gardens and orchards down for what promises to be a proper winter season. Coming in late to the harvest season meant he missed the majority of the fun work; picking and canning and jamming and drying. All that was left was the grunt work, of mending fences and chopping wood, testing and feeding the soil to ensure a good healthy ground to plant the saved seeds in next year. Tools needed to be repaired, sheds and barns and coops needed to be cleaned out and inspected. Feedstores checked and then checked again for the constant threat of pests, but that's helped by the mousers, creeping silently along until a hand was held out and they approached with a purr that rivaled any ghouls.

At some point his brain comes online again. The autopilot shutting off when there's no more work to be done. Of course, there's always more work to be done, but as Mountain sits stop a boulder and slowly chews his way through the sandwich someone had handed to him hours and hours and hours ago, he can't think of anything else he’d like to do more than go to sleep for the rest of the year.

(Divider by @forlorn-crows)

Not like this though. He wouldn't sleep well if he was filthy, caked in the day’s worth of sweat and grime and he honestly can't remember the last time he showered but he thinks the garden hose should suffice as he passes it on his way in. His clothes are tossed in a pail to be retrieved at some other point in time for laundry and he relishes the cold burst of water that hits his skin, tracking down through the dirt that might as well be engrained underneath.A cleaning rag from one pocket is taken to scrub what he seems the worst of it off with help of a shrunken and discolored ball of tallow and lye soap taken from another pocket. He reasons that he'll probably dry before he gets to his room and that the sight of a nude ghoul won't surprise anyone at this point. The rules were a bit laxer around this time of year, since novitiates weren't traditionally moved in until the longest and darkest night.

But there's a wrench thrown into his plans, as soon as he opens the door to his room. The motion sends a flurry of rose petals scattering across the floorboards, just a few in a trail that leads to his bathroom door, cracked open to waft out the scent of something decidedly not of his own toiletry collection. There's just enough candlelight in the tiny room for him to see he won't be spending the night alone.

“I'm not cleaning this up.” Is the only thing he can think to say as Rain opens the door wider. He's shockingly clothed but in such a way to suggest he won't be staying so for very long. Loose, flowing fabric, draped easily and easy to pull off. Mountain tries to be interested, really he does, but it's just that he's so damn tired and the bed is right there. His bones ache. His head aches. Rain is very pretty but Mountain is very, very exhausted.

“Don't worry about it.” Rain says dismissively. He beckons with an elegant arm outstretched and like the work-dog he feels he really is, Mountain obeys with a hanging head. “Oh, stop moping. We're doing something different tonight.”

“Not moping.” He says, sounding childish and petulant but the attitude disappears as soon as he sees the tub. His battered old claw foot has been utterly transformed, scrubbed clean and shining in the low light. The water, tepid on the best of days, has been heated so that fragrant steam rises in lazy whirls as Rain leads him to it. He can pick out lavender and chamomile right away, but it's not his own mixture. It's something from the water ghoul’s expensive and luxurious collection, something that came in an elegantly wrought alabaster jar that Rain pours from as Mountain gathers enough braincells to realize the bath is, in fact, for him.

“Go on.” Rain says. “I can't add everything else until you do.”

Words fail him, especially as he tests the water with his fingers and finds it delightfully hot. Slipping his whole body underneath it brings out deep and guttural noise from his chest, near sexual as it envelops him. His eyes are heavy and refuse to remain open.

“Mmrhn?” Is the best he can manage as a lid is twirled open and the gentle hiss of dry herbs hit the water.

“Pain relief mixture.” Rain murmurs, continuing to sprinkle. “Your own.”

A special blend of three salts, eleven herbs, and four oils. He knows them all by name but his brain dips offline again as Rain comes to perch on the lip of the tub by his shoulders. Mountain cracks his eye open in a Herculean effort and is rewarded with the glimpse of a small silver bowl dipping into the water and, most importantly, the sight of Rain’s clothing folded neatly on the counter by the sink.

He's just a Ghoul, after all.

“Close your eyes.” Rain gently admonishes and Mountain does. The water is poured over his hair and face, Rain giving extra attention to his beard to make sure no part of Mountain is left untouched and dry. Cool cream is smeared on the bare skin of his face with a dampened towel wrapped carefully around his head so he can still breath while whatever Rain out on his works it's magic. Something else is combed patiently through his tangled hair and left to soak in as Rain scratches tenderly at his scalp.

He drifts off; into a hazy dreamscape of grey and gardens that never need tending. His feet float above the ground so his body never aches with the weight of carrying itself around all day and somewhere in the mist, he knows someone waits. Just as he's about to find them and take them in his arms, they call out gently a name not his own and he's too tired to startle, but manages an impressive snort as Cumulus chuckles.

“How's he doing?” She whispers and Mountain hopes she's just as naked as he and Rain are.

“He’d fall asleep right here if we let him.” Rain replies. “Did you find the rose lotion? The one in a square bottle?”

“I thought we weren't doing that rose lotion.” Cumulus answers, setting what sounds like a basket down on the countertop. “Remember? It was too waxy and not moisturizing enough.”

“Oh.” Rain says, starting to unwrap the towel from Mountain’s face. His vision is blurred and he can't make out much- just the figure of his beautiful Lus gleaming mother naked in the candlelight as she unpacks her basket, setting each item down with reverence after a thorough inspection. “Right. Look, in my defense, we came up with this idea when we were smoking.”

“Nuh-uh.” Cumulus counters, a smile in her voice so rich he can hear the dimples. “You forgot everything we agreed on as soon as we saw Mountain strip down and hose off.”

“Okay.” Rain says amicably. “And? Like you're any better.”

“Surprised you haven't dove in there with him yet.”

Mountain makes a noise that informs everyone present he would very much enjoy Rain diving in to join him. But that would leave Lus out and he wants his Lus as well, it's not fair to leave her in the candlelight, lovely as she looks in it.

“He agrees with me.”

“He's agreeing with me.”

They're being so nice to him for once. He thinks the bickering has taken a different turn but it's not like there are any real stakes at play here. Rain’s washing his hair now, soaping out the mask he applied earlier and rinsing the suds out as Cumulus sits on his other side and presses something to his mouth. He opens as he's bid and lets her handfeed him some impossibly delicious, crispy bite of food. Savory and meaty in a flaky shell. His own recipe that he can recognize even as the last of his brain drips out of his skull in the heat of the water and the two beside him. His mouth is wiped when he finishes, cool water out to his lips and he drinks. The next course of fruit and cheese begins as Rain fusses with conditioner, snips at his scraggly beard with a little pair of shears and even cleans and files his nails, brushing on yet another oil to the keratin.

“I could watch you pamper our man all day.” Cumulus teases, holding out a cube of cheese on a stick. Rain takes it gracefully, giving her extended and pointed eye contact as he draws back. Mountain wheezes and the noise brings their attention back on him again.

“Your turn.” Rain says.

He's helped out of the water, gone tepid by now and for once his body doesn't complain about the work of moving joints and muscles and his bones don't feel like they’ve been filled with lead. Cumulus dries him with her power, keeping him warm thermals harnessed to keep him from shivering. His skin, dry from the heat and the harshness of his own soap, is coated in a shea butter lotion and he's led from the bathroom to his bed with a fire crackling in the grate.

“Lay down.” She says, and he obeys. On his back at first but she flips him with ease onto his stomach and really, he's got no complaints there. She's easy to underestimate, always seen with a box of sweets and tucked up with a book but only a fool forgets she's a menace from the pit. Being spoiled up top just suits her better and she's got years of experience to draw on as she straddles his back. Hands that once ripped jawbone from skull press tenderly into his muscles and he forgets everything again as she works him, fingers dancing like she's playing her piano. Her body is a comforting weight atop him, easing any lingering anxiety he might have had about things being left undone or not good enough. It's no use to worry without energy to act on it. If things go wrong, he’ll be rested and restored enough to deal with them. Even his tail is lovingly played with, tugged on and rubbed until it settles.

At some point, she slips off and lays next to him with a little plate of chocolates. Rain’s on him now, pouring more oil in a straight line down his back, humming as he dots more here and there. Mountain grumbles until he's fed a candied pecan from Lus’ lips and the kiss distracts him enough so that he doesn't notice Rain shuffling back to sit on his knees as he idly plays in the spills of oil, finger painting that takes his hands lower and lower.

With one hand on each cheek, Rain pulls him apart. Warm oil splatters directly on his hole and he jolts with a whimper that Lus smothers with her chest. Rain dips two fingers inside, easily finding the spot that has his legs shaking in moments. He didn't have the energy for sex, he thought, but what they wanted was vastly different than what he expected. Rain’s fingers steadily pump in and out of his body for ages as he and Lus kiss, the water leaving his own lip prints in the film slowly absorbing into Mountain’s skin.

“You hard, baby?” Lus asks him between breaths and Mountain is embarrassed at the way he whispers out no, chasing the taste of her but she just smiles patiently at him.

“Don't need to be, honey. We’ll take care of you.”

When he's finally deemed ready, he's pushed onto his side, Rain tight to his back while Lus throws a luscious thigh over his hip, going for his neck. He feels the press of Rain's breasts against his shoulder blades, his own hips rocking for purchase until his tentacle eases out of Rain's body and wriggling home into Mountain's. It curls up inside him, heavy and deep and pressed right where he needs it. His cock is gripped in a soft, manicured hand, not to rub and tease but just to hold and comfort. He doesn't know which way to turn to kiss them and their laughter is gentle.

“Just let us take care of you.” Whispers one.

“It's the least we could do in return.” Murmurs the other.

His sleep, after an orgasm milked from his still soft cock, is deep and dreamless. It's a long time before all three of them wake up.

[hxllfires-gifs]

PAIRING. victoria de angelis x fem!reader

SUMMARY. y/n is the other female member of the band, who has had feelings for vic for a while now, but was too nervous to say anything. one night after a concert in new york changes that after the bassist overhears a conversation between damiano and y/n.

WORD COUNT. 1,111

Y/N L/N DREAMED about performing from a young age. She started to enjoy the art of singing and music due to her family’s interest in the arts. It was a big part of her childhood and teenage years so the fact that she got to do what she loved with some of her best friends, well it was a huge thing to her.

Going on to win Eurovision in 2021 opened doors for her and her band, giving them opportunities they never thought possible. Måneskin growing as a whole was great but the more time went on, the harder it got for the girl to hide her true feelings. She was in love with her fellow band member and best friend, Victoria de Angelis.

The boys always teased her about it and it scared her honestly. She was always open about her sexuality, like Victoria and Ethan were, but it always felt different when Vic was involved. She would get more shy when alone with the bass player and it started to gain more attention from the public, which is something Y/N kind of wanted to avoid.

The three boys and two girls never hid any affection for one another but everyone knew that it was more friendly where the H/C haired girl was concerned. However, deep down she wanted more with the blonde. How could she not? Vic was stunning and one of the nicest people she knew. Anyone would be lucky to have someone like her.

The band had just finished a concert in New York, Y/N and Damiano being the first two backstage. The two singers did not hesitate to sit down on the couch in the dressing room. The crowd had been wild and the vibe was electric to say the least. It was one of the best crowds they’ve had on this tour so far.

“When are you finally going to tell her how you feel?” Damiano’s question snapped the H/C haired girl out of thought, her eyes moving to focus on her friend.

An unimpressed expression was painted on her features but the L/N remained silent for the next couple of seconds. She did not like the boys mentioning her secret when Victoria could just walk in and hear what was being said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She feigned innocence.

Damiano rolled his eyes at her response. “Yeah, okay. N/N, we all see how you are with her, even the fans have started to see it. You can’t keep this a secret forever and I don’t understand why you would want to. It is obvious that she likes you too.”

Y/N shook her head. “Absolutely not. There is no way that she likes me. Have you seen her? She’s way too good for me. We are just friends so I doubt she sees me as anything different.”

“You can be so stupid sometimes. Vic is in love with you too. It may be hard for you to believe but she does, so you should try to tell her how you feel. You have had these feelings for how long now and still haven’t tried. I can promise you that it will work out in your favor.” Damiano’s words were meant to be encouraging as he just wanted to see his friends happy.

The female sighed. “It’s not that easy. You know this but every time I’m around her, it’s like butterflies are in my stomach and I get so shy. I have things I want to say but I never want to mess anything up in front of her. She is so perfect to me and I want to be able to be equally as great.”

Damiano smiled when he realized that there were people standing in the doorway. The others had come back and had heard everything pretty much, including Victoria, who had a smile of her own. Y/N had not seemed to realize though, her eyes having been closed and her head laid on the back of the couch, trying to calm herself.

It wasn’t until the bassist spoke that she opened her eyes and seemed to freeze. Vic had heard what she said, there was no way she didn’t.

“You have a crush on me? It’s a good thing that I have feelings for you too.” Vic had a slight teasing tone laced in her words but she meant what she said, which really did surprise the other female.

Damiano stood and walked towards the doorway, whispering something the Ethan and Thomas before glancing at his female friends. “We’ll leave you two alone.”

The three walked away from Y/N and Victoria, going to do God knows what. The L/N was shocked to hear Vic’s own confession and it was obvious, which made the blonde laugh. She went to sit on the couch in the same spot that Damiano had just gotten up from.

“Did I hear that right,” Y/N voiced aloud, not really meaning to.

The bassist nodded. “Yes, you heard that correctly. I have had feelings for you for so long. I thought I had been clear about it but I guess my attempts weren’t enough. So, yes, I love you and it’s something I’ve wanted to say for a while. You really thought you were not good enough for me? You are more than that to me.”

Y/N couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes but she didn’t allow them to fall. This was really happening! Vic actually loved her. She had dreamed of this moment but it felt impossible for it to really happen. However, she couldn’t be happier.

She was speechless at first but soon regained control of her brain. “Really? I just thought you were being friendly to me. You are the most amazing person so yeah, I did think that you wouldn’t see me as anything other than a friend.”

Vic glanced down at N/N’s lips before focusing back on her eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

It was such a simple question but it held so much power over the L/N, who was quick to nod and agree. Their lips met and it was better than Y/N imagined. The two pulled away after a couple more seconds and the H/C haired girl smiled.

Vic wrapped her arm around the other girl’s body before asking the important question she had on her mind. “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

Y/N L/N laughed and her smile never faltered. “Yes, of course! I would love that.”

Victoria brought her now girlfriend closer and rested her head on top of Y/N’s, the two staying like that until they eventually had to get up.

[jxckchxmpi0n]

Hii love congrats on 200 followers I was wondering if I could request a spider man Ethan Landry x female reader where he takes care of his drunk girlfriend

Thank you, love 🕸🕷that means so much to me!! I hope you enjoy this 🌼

Drunk Love

Summary: Spiderman! Ethan takes care of his drunk girlfriend. || m.list

Word count: 1.8k

Warning: Fluff! little angst swearing, drinking, throwing up mentions of NSFW 🫶

update: college is kicking my ass, but break is going to be here soon!!!

did not proof read

ALSO NEW THEME!!!

It was girls' night which meant drunk confessions and dumb middle school games in the living room of the Carpenter sisters' apartment.

As much as the boys thought it was unfair getting thrown out, they planned to have their own fun night, which was sitting in their apartment living room yelling at a flat screen tv over the video game of the hour.

Everyone at this point had found out Ethan your boyfriend was Spiderman, he told them about a year into taking on the role, when he had told them Mindy had stood up shouting "YES! you owe me twenty bucks Chad" everyone had laughed about it and seemed not surprised.

Months had passed and everyone got used to the disappearances of Ethan, but for you it was hard. You always missed him, you felt like you never saw him. Between classes and working, your schedule never matched with his. The occasional nights where he'd slip in through your window would be a treat, but it was never enough.

It was already passed midnight, the drinks were getting stronger, and the music was getting louder.

"Alright y/n we all answered now it's your turn! Where's the weirdest place you've had sex." Mindy stood in the doorway of the kitchen with a bottle of vodka and grape juice in her hand. Everyone was giggling at the question as your face was blushing.

You looked up acting like you were thinking of it, Sam and Tara were sitting on the couch trying to guess places, Anika was making some snacking and drinks with Mindy.

Setting your drink on the coffee table you laughed to yourself finally landing on a place, it weirdest and it's definitely not a normal place. "Ethan wanted to take me on a date around the city, but Spiderman style. So, we went swinging around and then at some point he made this web between some random buildings, and we could look at the stars and well you know one thing led to another."

Tara, and Sam's mouth hung open, "no fucking way you had sex in the middle of the sky on a fucking spider web!!" Everyone's eyes were wide open looking at you as if you told them your darkest secret.

"I mean it's not that bad, its honestly really comfortable plus Ethan he-"Mindy's voice cut you off as she came back into the room with drinks, Anika followed holding the snacks.

"No, we don't need to hear anything about Ethan, I can't look at him other than the shy nerdy boy" you laughed and kept the rest to yourself.

After a good hour or so Tara was knocked out, Mindy and Anika were going to walk back to their place and Sam was going to head to Danny's place across the street. Your mind was racing, and your body felt so hot and warm.

Your mind had thought about Ethan, your heart ached so much at the thought of not seeing him right now. Pulling out your phone you thought about texting him.

The boys had taken a little bit of a break from the game to talk, Chad wanted to talk about how things were going with Tara when ethan felt his phone buzz. Grabbing it from the counter he read a message from you.

pretty girl <3

'baby i miss youu so muh! like i wantto see you!'

'oh i think im just druk'

'your withchad illl leaave you alone'

'im srry'

'i love you baby haha bug boy i miss you'

He smiled looking at the messages, he thought it was cute anytime you were drunk. If you weren't together you would spam his phone in love notes, it was his favorite thing.

bugg boy 🕷

'my love are you okay?'

'Do you want me to come get you? I don't mind!'

'Baby you don't have to bee sorry, you know I love these messages!!'

'Pretty girl, I'm heading over!'

Chad had been fine with Ethan leaving, that had also given him a reason to see his girlfriend. Taking Ethan's car they drove to the girls' apartment, they didn't worry about knocking since it was their second home.

Walking in Chad could see Tara curled up in the couch chair, Ethan's landed on you. You were laying down on your stomach face buried into the couch half hanging off. Chad walked to Tara talking to her softly, he got her up and guided her to her room.

Ethan sat on the ground next to the couch, his hand softly rubbing your back. "My love, I'm here. How are you feeling?" You felt the warmth of his hand through your shirt, the sound of his voice so low and soft made your heart flip.

You raised your head slightly already smiling, "bug boy, my bug boy" You pushed yourself off of the couch making the rest of your body slide into his lap. "ugh I missed you" he chuckled as he felt you shove your face in his neck.

"How drunk are you?" you giggled at his question, something about it seemed funny. Ethan pushed his body up so he could take a look at you.

You laid in his lap with your eyes half closed, "you're so beautiful. Like yes, you're hot but like also so beautiful, with your curly fluffy hair oohh and your freckles- your freckles are so pretty and your eyes- godd I'm so in love with you" Your arms wrapped around his waist, your face buried in his chest under his jacket a little.

His face burning red with your confession. "My love as much as I love hearing you say you love me; we need to get you to bed. Let's get you home-"

"Your bed. I want your bed, it smells like you, and if you aren't there when I wake up at least I have your sheets that have your smell" You nodded to yourself as you thought out loud, Ethan wasn't meant to hear that, but You couldn't control what you were saying right now.

"Fine, we will go to my place." Your face lit up at the agreement. He helped you stand up only for you to tumble, "Okay, hold on." he turned around, so his back was facing your chest. "Can you jump up?"

He squatted down more, so it wasn't such a big jump. Your hands rested loosely on his shoulders. You jumped as much as you could, and his hands grabbed the back of your thigh, pulling you up. He jumped himself a little so you could get on his back comfortably.

He checked on Chad and Tara and saw they were good and then made his way back to the car. You were half asleep on his back, mumbling little things to yourself. "Bug boy is my boyfriend, I love bug boy, how am I moving?"

He laughed at your little comments. You're going to have a rough morning tomorrow. He made it back to the car and placed you on the passenger side, leaning in. He was trying to buckle you in, but you grabbed his face, pulling him to you. Your lips met his, and he could taste the cheap liquor. "Mmm, I love being able to do that." Your words were slurred, but he could understand you.

After a solid thirty minutes, you reached Ethan's apartment. He carried you in and set you on the corner of his bed, running to the kitchen he got water, and as he turned to the sink, he felt his spider tingles go off. The next thing he heard was you saying "oh oh" he ran back to the room to see you stumbling into the bathroom. Making it just in time to the toilet he grabbed your hair as you felt all the alcohol make its way back up.

"Its okay baby let it out" he felt bad he couldn't do more to help you, he hated seeing you like this.

His hand ran up and down your back, as you sat there for a few more minutes. "I'm fine, I swear, Ethan I'm good" your voice was echoing from the inside of the bowl.

"Do you need to throw up anymore?" his voice was soft and filled with concern.

You shook your head, leaning up from the toilet. he grabbed your wrist taking a hair tie from you. Pulling your hair back he made a sloppy bun.

Picking you up he sat you on the lid edge of the tub, resting your back on the wall you watched him. He flushed the toilet and cleaned around it with the mess you made and seeing him clean just made something in you sad.

"Oh god Ethan I'm so sorry- I'm sorry I made a mess on your-" before you could finish, he reached over cupping your face.

"Hey, hey, look at me it's okay. I don't mind, it's a little bit of puck but who cares. I'm here to take care of you, okay. Don't be sorry, any excuse to take care of my love I will do anything" he kissed the top of your head. Your face was even more flushed from his words.

"I need to brush my teeth and take my makeup off" you tried to get up but felt Ethan's webs stick to your wrist.

"No. Sit down. I will do it" his voice was stern yet loving.

He turned around with a makeup wipe remover already in hand, kneeling down he grabbed your face pulling it down to look at him. The coldness of the wipe made you gasp but then hum, the feeling of his hand on your face made you lean into his touch.

You looked at him, seeing the moles you love so much scattered over his face. The brown eyes you fell in love with, then your eyes landed on a scar on his right eyebrow. Your lips formed into a frown as you reached out and touched it.

Ethan took notice as your face was full of sadness. "what's wrong pretty girl?"

"I don't like you going out at nighttime fighting, I don't want you to go out one night and not return. I miss you." He saw the tears in your eyes build up.

He didn't know how to answer at first, his hand still resting on your face while the other hand wiped your makeup. "I'm sorry, pretty girl. I didn't realize you felt like this. How about we talk about this more in the morning."

Your eyes were getting heavy as each minute passed, mindlessly nodding your head already forgetting the conversation. Ethan then helped you somewhat brush your teeth and get to bed, where a glass of water sat waiting for you on the nightstand.

Chugging half of it you climbed into bed smiling, "mmmh smells like my boyfriend" you grabbed his pillows burying your face in them. Ethan couldn't help but laugh at your actions.

He followed you into his bed, lying next to you, his arms wrapped around you pulling you closer. Your face buried into his neck as you moved to get comfortable. "I have the best boyfriend, ha-ha, spiider-man, my bug boy" he felt you lightly kissing his neck before sleep fully took over your body.

[velaryqns]

Can you please do a House fic where Reader and House reconcile after a break up (it’s been a few years)?

Reconciliation

Fandom: House MD

Pairing: Greg House x Reader

Summary: you were already reluctant to accept Cuddy’s request to return to Princeton Plainsboro, your ex boyfriend’s sudden return made it all the worse

Warnings: angst, House being House, past relationship (bad writing on my end, whoops)

Set during season six, but not strictly following the show plot

Your memories of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital hadn’t exactly been the greatest. From people you considered being your friends getting injured, to your relationship with the head diagnostician in the hospital. Cuddy had assured you of his absence, as had Wilson and the rest of his former team.

Former.

Foreman had filled you in on what happened, and you’d honestly felt a bit of hope flutter in your chest when discovering that House had gone to Rehab. But only a bit.

You knew it was only too good to be true when Greg House appeared in your office doorway a few weeks after you had started. You could only stare, and then quickly rose to your feet and crossed the room, “No.”

Before you could hear anything from him, the door shut in his face. You were glad Lisa had provided you with an office with a solid door rather than a glass one. You could see his shadow through the crack of the door by your feet, as well as it shift when he finally walked away.

A sigh of relief passed through your lips, and you shook your head and returned to sitting at your desk. You snatched the phone from its receiver and dialed up Cuddy's office. You sat back in your chair, one arm crossed and your other resting on top of it as the phone rang.

"Doctor Cuddy," Lisa's semi-cheerful tone met your ears, but you were less than cheerful.

"When did he get back?"

"Y/n," Cuddy immediately sounded remorseful as she tried to figure out what to tell you, "I meant to talk to you sooner...it wasn't my intention for you to just find out."

"I don't want to be working with him, Cuddy,"

"Why don't we talk about this in person?"

"Because he's already tried coming into my office and I don't need him catching me in the halls," you muttered in annoyance.

"Please just come to my office, we can talk about it there,"

You were silent, shaking your head before huffed, "Fine."

You put the phone down and rose to your feet, leaving your office and toward Cuddy's office. It's not that you and Greg split on bad terms, they were bad for you anyway. He had made his choices and you made your own, and he ultimately chose to cut off the relationship. And you left Princeton Plainsboro.

Cuddy was already seated at her desk, lost in thought when you walked in. She frowned when she saw you, shaking her head, "I'm so sorry you didn't get a proper warning about House coming back. Wilson thought it wasn't best since you just came back, and right now we value your work more than we can trust his."

"I'm pretty sure I should've known to begin with," you countered, sitting in the chair across from her and folding one leg over the other. You were unimpressed with the reasoning, and excuse, "I won't leave if that's what you're afraid of."

Cuddy's face dropped, shocked and showing she entirely expected you to leave, but you were more mature than the other half of the problem. She waved a hand, "Wow, are you sure? We'd understand completely."

"Letting Gregory House drive me out of my place of work is the last thing I need right now,"

With that, you resumed your work in the hospital. You had a few run-ins with House, but overall it didn't affect your work in the hospital until he could finally corner you in your office one day. You'd been talking to Wilson when House knocked and came in, sending Wilson out and leaving the two of you alone.

"I was getting a consult," you informed him, focusing on anything other than how he watched you and the turtleneck he'd worn.

"Who says I don't need a consult from you?" You looked at him through your lashes, unimpressed as he leaned on his cane, "It's possible."

"I don't want to do this today, House,"

"Yeesh, what happened to 'Greg'?" You shook your head and went back to reading the file for the case you were working on, "Just five minutes."

"I could spend five minutes helping my patients, you could too,"

"And yet you're still sitting here...talking to me,"

You pressed your hands against your face, and sighed, "What do you want?"

"You don't talk to me, you don't look at me, ya know the typical stuff I'd expect from an ex," he waved a hand around, sitting in the chair across from you, "But c'mon, we're coworkers now. You've gotta have a little bit of kindness to share."

"I do," you nod, "When we actually work together for something."

You had a gut feeling as to what he was really after, but you wanted to get back to work as he hummed, "You don't think I've seen you making eyes or anything?"

"I'm not crazy, Greg," He hummed doubtfully and you rolled your eyes, "Please leave."

He did, and a few days later he called you in for a consult. But it was really just him sitting in a clinic room waiting for you. You scoffed when you walked in and shook your head, "I swear you just beg for attention."

"Our soap is on, figured you'd like to join for it," You fell silent, processing his words and looking between him and the small device he'd set up, "I know you want to."

"I want to work," you told him.

"Just come sit with me, and if you still hate me after this, you don't have to talk to me again," he pat the empty chair next to him, holding out a bag of chips with his other hand.

You conceded, walking over to the chair and taking one of the chips, “I don’t hate you.”

He hummed, but was too engrossed in the drama happening on the screen to pay attention to your words. You watched as the drama unfolded, and for a moment everything felt like it had nearly five years ago when you were together.

Almost.

When the episode ended, you were brought back into reality as another started and your pager went off. You left without a word, but for some reason, you missed the feeling you’d had from a few moments earlier.

You went to House’s office at the end of the day, letting yourself in with a knock. He looked up at you, smirking, “Look who’s chasing who now.”

“Shut up,” you shook your head, grinning as you approached his desk, “I just wanted to thank you. It was nice being away from work for a while. Maybe we should do it again.”

“I’ll consider it,” he spoke dismissively, looking down at his paperwork as you smiled and turned away, walking toward the door again, “Maybe at my place this time?”

You turned to see him looking up, a semi-hopeful look on his face. You smiled and nodded your head, “Maybe.”