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witchxxjpg · 1 year ago

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im happy that you liked my previous lestappen hunger games au🥳🥳🥳 and asked for a part of it. it is alive purely because of you, so enjoy!!

******

Charles got picked when he was just 12 years old. It was rare for a tribute to be that young but it happened sometimes.

Jules volunteered for him that year. He could've been 18 the following month but he stayed 17 forever. Charles would always remeber staying up all night to pray for him.

Charles would forever remeber seeing another tribute slashing his throat with a sword.

The whole 10th district mourned his death that day, raising a finger to the sky, pointing to the place where all people went. He was a caring and passionate guy. Even some other districts said their sorries. He was loved by everyone. And by Charles the most.

In just 5 years Arthur was picked. And Charles knew exactly what he needed to do.

The Capitol played his life as a tragic story of a boy who repayed his debt by volunteering himself for his little brother. He knew that Jules didn't want that, but he also knew that Arthur was too small and scared to be a tribute.

He won his games.

He portrayed the role of an innocent brother with angelic face and a pure goal. He wanted to believe the lies that the Capitol made him play. But everyone saw how Markus, a boy from district 4, died. With a dagger in his heart.

Charles was always good with daggers and knives. In his district he was terrible at caring for animals that his family was all looking after. But he was extremely good with skinning and preparing the meat to be sent to the Capitol. He used his skills well during his games.

He never had nightmares. But he saw traits of lost tributes in faces of all people.

Charles lived peacefully for 6 years.

He was more or less lucky with how the Capitol treated him afterwards. He was well aware of how pretty looking tributes ended up. But his role was to motivate all the districts to behave. They filmed a lot of videos with him that they called 'promotional'. To show what happened to people who disobeyed and to people who behaved themselves.

Charles was sick of doing all these lies, but it was better then being a toy for some moneybags.

After 6 years the 75th Hunger Games were announced. The Third Quarter Quell.

There were only three male winners from District 10. Sebastian and Kimi. And Charles.

Charles was picked again. He said his goodbyes to his family.

He was aware that these games would be different and he knew that he won't walk out of them alive. He at least was happy that Sebastian agreed to be his mentor this time too.

******

Max was born to win. That's what his father always said. He was trained all his early childhood to become a winner of the games.

That's why as soon as he turned legal age he volunteered.

His father pressured him into the games and never helped. Max was lucky to have Daniel as his mentor.

He won his first games of course. The youngest winner ever and with a record of most tributes eliminated.

He'd thought that he'd never have nightmares. But now he knew.

Max was just 13 when he won, but as soon as he started to understand the world he knew that he was doomed.

Doomed ro relive memories of his father's puppet.

Max dreamed of his snowy arena. Of all 12 kids that he killed with his axe. Of their distorted faces and hoarse screams. He never wanted to fall asleep again.

After the games he continued to study in the academy to be a peacekeeper. He wanted ro do at least something good. He finished with the highest grades and best results. He was offered a position as a Head Peacekeeper. He chose District 10.

He saw people from District 10 selebrate its win when that boy returned home. He saw them raising a finger to the sky. 'The chosen one'. That's how they called him. Charles.

Max saw him sometimes. When he went to the central fair or left to the Victor's Village. He saw how people treated him. Like a son or a close friend. And he treated them the same.

He was their victor.

All winners had perks and Max saw how he gave them all away to people of his district.

Max had to suppress his inner urge to reach out for him. To ask if he felt the same way.

Like a broken tool that no longer had a purpose to serve

Probably he didn't. He helped his people. And Max was a peacekeeper, wearing a mask to hide his face that's outlined by all the deaths that he'd caused.

He tried to reduce people's suffering.

He was a peacekeeper for 8 years.

When the time of the 75th Hunger Games came closer, Max knew about the Third Quater Quell and how it would be like.

There were a lot of winners to compete for District 2, but during the reaping Daniel was chosen. Max didn't doubt that Daniel would've won the quill, but Max saw the trace that the games had left on him. He saw how the games had treated him. He knew Daniel's story.

Max volunteered again.

Long time ago he cared about himself. But he didn't anymore.

He saw that boy from District 10 being chosen too.

******

Daniel was born in District 2, but his parents weren't.

He never felt like he fit with all the others.

Since young age he had to attend the academy to train there like every child of the second district muct do. He always hated it.

He read once in some old book from the library a phrase that made him understand what he felt. 'Like a bird in a cage'. His 6 year old self was very impressed.

Daniel liked all his survival classes, the ones that didn't include murders. All of his classmates hated them.

He was never like the others. When he first got to his class he tried to make friends. That's what his parents advised him to do. He tried to smile and tell stupid jokes, to share home-made food with the others and help them study. He tried to be himself.

But it never quite worked.

Everyone laughed at him and not with him. They pointed at him, calling him 'a dumb weirdo'. They took his food away and threw it in a garbage bin. They locked him in storage rooms to skip classes that caused him a lot of warnings and later detentions.

Daniel tried not to notice them but he couldn't. He spent most of his life in the academy with bruises on all his body parts and tears on his cheeks. He knew that he was not like the others but he didn't think that he was so difficult that people can't be in the same room as him.

Until he turned 17.

All students from the academy had a queue for games. Everyone fought to have a chance to win the games. And when the reaping started someone from the list of volunteers would go.

Daniel was picked for the 64th Hunger Games. He thought that someone from the careers would volunteer as they always did. But everybody kept silent.

It felt like a death sentence.

His mentor was Mark. He was fun and helpful. He advised to make friends.

On the first meeting with tributes Daniel decided that he liked only Jev from District 8 and Jules from District 10. They were both nice and didn't laugh at his attempts to be nice too. It was the first time that he thought he could have a friend.

It didn't last long.

Jev was one of the first to get eliminated. Daniel and Jules tried to stay together. But one day into the games they had to part ways to get food and water.

The next time Daniel saw him was with a sword slashing his throat.

He tried to heal the wound but his knowledge wasn't enough.

Before Jules passed away he gave Daniel his lucky charm - a small wooden statuette of a bird. Daniel wouldn later return it to his godson.

Daniel won the games. He knew that nobody from his district expected that.

The following year he decided to become a mentor. For 13 year old Max.

Max was always angry with his bright icy eyes shining with rage. But he also wasn't like others.

He was one of the careers, but Daniel didn't see their traits in him. Max didn't want to win for glory and pride.

He just wanted to make his dad happy with him.

Daniel tried to teach him how to live in this world. He tried to make him realise that he didn't need to kill all 23 of tributes for his dad to be happy with his son. He tried to make him feel better. He tried to joke and make him laugh as all early teenagers his age should do.

And he felt pretty cool when he succeeded in that, hearing his small laugh with a shy smile.

He knew that the boy liked him but he didn't know what to do.

And then Max won his games.

He stood there on the podium with a prideful expression on his face, but all Daniel saw were his empty eyes filled with something.

And Daniel was well aware what was that something. He saw it in himself every time he looked in the mirror.

Daniel tried to reach out when Max told him that he's going to be a peacekeeper. They even met sometimes when he was still studying in the academy.

After Max graduated he was sent to District 10 to serve there. And Daniel tried to still talk to him. Even when Max was very busy with his duties they called each other. And Daniel was always happy to hear his voice.

Daniel made friends among other winners. He had Lewis and Sebastian. But there was still something about Max that made Daniel care.

The next time they saw each other was right before the reaping for the Quarter Quell. All of the victors from District 2 were in the same hall, and there were a lot of them.

Daniel barely recognized Max with all the years that they spent apart. He looked broad and tall, even taller then Daniel. Nothing like a 13 year old boy that had won the games. His face was completely different, a strong jaw and no chubby cheeks.

But his eyes. They were still empty.

They shared an awkward hug and Daniel felt too good in his arms. He wished they could stay together for longer.

And he felt fine until his name was called.

He was picked.

Almost third of all the winners were from District 2, so Daniel thought that he wouldn't be in the games again.

He didn't have the time to think because Max volunteered.

When he looked at Daniel his face didn't hold a trace of uncertainty. He looked calm and sure. And his beautiful eyes flickered with something. But it wasn't the same something as after his games. It was something different.

And in a week he found himself in the same situation like 10 years ago.

Helping Max win.

******

Sebastian though he was a good mentor.

He took this role after his win at the 61st Hunger Games. He was the second male victor from District 2.

Kimi was a good mentor too. He was always calm and confident. Sometimes he felt distant but Seb never had a feeling that he didn't care about his tributes.

Sebastial saw a lot of good children that competed in the games. He saw all of them die.

He was a mentor for 8 years until he met Charles.

Everyone in District 10 knew Charles. His family had one of the biggest farms and Charles was extremely skilled with daggers. And everyone knew his story.

Sebastian still remembered mentoring Jules.

For Charles he decided to go for a sad story. That's how they can get more sponsors.

Charles was a pretty good actor and quickly understood what worked the best to get a reaction from the audience. He played well with his adoring face and big eyes.

Even before the games started they had enough donations for Seb to sent him daggers as a sponsor dift, so he didn't need to fight for the weapons.

And Charles won.

It wasn't something that Sebastian was surprised about. But he didn't think that he'd ever experience some kind of happiness. And here it was.

They both lived in Victor's Village. It was almost empty except for 5 houses that were also occupied by Kimi, Silvia and Lily. Both women preferred to live in the Capitol, so usually there were only three of them.

They even met every day for dinners together. It could get lonely sometimes.

Kimi had a family. A beautiful wife and two amazing kids. Seb loved them.

He didn't understand how Kimi could live knowing that his children might go through the same thing in the future. Seb knew that he didn't want kids because he wouldn't be able to live if one of them was picked for the games.

Sebastian waited for the Third Quarter Quell.

When it was announced Charles said that he would go for them if he or Kimi were chosen.

It wasn't necessary. Charles' name was called.

Sebastian knew that it was his duty to protect him.

They decided on the same strategy. Play nice and innocent for the sponsors.

When asked about alliance, Charles said that he wanted Carlos and Max. Seb would've advised on Lewis. But knowing that Nico from District 1 was participating, he would be too occupied fighting his biggest enemy.

Sebastian thought that Carlos was a good option. He was strong and not that arrogant. His help would be great.

But Max was different.

Even though Seb trusted Daniel who said that he was good, he still wasn't so sure.

Max was always quite complicated. He was too aggressive and forward, and despite everything that Daniel told him Seb didn't like him.

The games started in no time.

Charles knew their strategy well. He teamed with Carlos as soon as everything started.

They ran together.

They did pretty good during the first couple of days. Even succeeded in stealing an axe for Carlos and a knife for Charles.

This time the arena was a forest and it got pretty cold fast. They had to help each other.

They found a beautiful lake and a well-hidden cave nearby. There was also a small field with a lot of growing poppies that made it look as it was cowered in drops of blood.

On the first day near the lake Carlos made a small bouquet of them and gave it to Charles.

Sebastian thought that they were a good team. Trusting each other. He saw that something was growing between them.

Until one day Carlos got a spiked arrow in his right shoulder.

Everyone understood that he wouldn't be able to walk out alive.

Sebastian saw Charles trying to help him with all his herbalism skills, Seb himself sent them some good ointment to heal the wound. But it still wasn't helping.

He saw Carlos screaming in agony and Charles crying over his feverish body. Carlos begging Charles to kill him and end his suffering.

They all saw Charles putting his knife on Carlos' throat, choking on tears.

Charles buried him near the shore of the lake, filling his grave with bright red poppies.

The next day Charles decided to go search for the others. He packed all his things and took Carlos' axe. He was shit at working with it but it was his only great weapon as his knife had become dull. And he still remembered some of the tips that Max had shared with him during their training out of the blue.

He walked the whole day and thought that he wouldn't see anyone. But just as the sun set he saw a flicker of light in the distance. As he quickly and quietly approached the bonfire, holding the axe at ready, he noticed him. It was Max.

And Max noticed him too.

"I don't want to kill you", Charles said.

And Max answered, "I don't want to kill you either".

They were awkward at first but Max reached to his backpack and pulled three daggers. "They might suit you better then me. I have no idea what to do with them".

Charles took the gift and decided to give Carlos' axe away in return.

They didn't sleep at night, not really trusting each other yet, and talked. And appeared that they had a lot in common.

Sebastian saw all of this.

He just hoped that it wouldn't end up terrible. And that he wouldn't need to mourn another friend.

#lestappen #charles leclerc #sebastian vettel #max verstappen #cl16 #daniel ricciardo #mv33 #mv1 #my art #carlos sainz #f1 fandom #f1 art #formula 1 #digital art

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gloomyclauds · 10 months ago

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!! 🥳 I'm turning 28 years old, my god! I wanted to give you something, as a thank you for the support I've been getting here ❤️

This here is a sim that I made for the Sour Legacy Challenge, which I recommend you all to check out! Sadly all I've done was make this sim... I'm still waiting, and hoping, that we'll get actual bands in the game someday *sigh* She's a teen, I would say she's 16 or older, that's why she has piercings 😅 Also, if her parents are around, I picture them as being permissive, because the challenge requires her to drop out of high school at some point. In a way, she's everything I wanted to be as a teen, and isn't that what the sims is for? To live a dream? 😆

I'm also going to be seeing Olivia Rodrigo this next month, and if you don't know, the Sour Legacy Challenge is based on her album Sour. The excitement just made me want to pick this sim up again, and give her a quick makeover. The song that inspired this sim was Brutal, although I had the first lyric of Boys & Girls by Conan stuck in my head while I was making her.

Keep Reading for the FULL CC LIST ⬇️

DEFAULTS Skinblend | Eyes | Feet | No EA Lashes

PRESETS Lips | Chin

SLIDERS Eyebrows (1) (2) | Glasses | Nose (1) (2) | Chin | Feet

EVERYDAY Hair | Necklace | Top | Jeans | Sneakers

ATHLETIC Headset | Hair | Top | Pants | Sneakers

SLEEP Hair | Shirt | Socks

PARTY Hair | Choker | Top | Jeans | Sneakers

SWIMWEAR Glasses | Earrings | Hair | Bikini

POSES 1st Image | 2nd and 3rd Image (1) (2)

A huge thanks to the cc creators!

@lamatisse @mousysims @okruee @glitchsyndrome @nesurii

@faaeish @vibrantpixels @miikocc @sims3melancholic @sammi-xox

@yooniesim @twisted-cat @joshseoh @its-adrienpastel @magic-bot

@kijiko-sims @shsims @absolutelyiconic @obscurus-sims @northernsiberiawinds

@cosimetic @crypticsim @dangerouslyfreejellyfish @dream-girl @simlaughlove

@joliebean @clumsyalienn @aharris00britney @sentate @sforzcc

@daylifesims @arethabee @imvikai @trillyke @nickname-sims4

@sehablasimlish @literalite @pralinesims @aladdin-the-simmer @serenity-cc

@caio-cc @littlesimzbeezcc @jius-sims @madlensims @nolan-sims

@wildlyminiaturesandwich @akuiyumi @katverse @remaron @mossylane

#s4cc #thesims4 #sims4cc #s4ccfinds #sims4ccfinds #ts4 lookbook #s4 lookbook #wcif

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phoenix-downer · 22 days ago

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Kintsugi

Chapter 1 - A World Without Color

Summary: Sora searches for a way home while Kairi looks for clues to Quadratum. They are both broken by his disappearance, but the journey to reach each other creates something beautiful from the pieces. KH4 SoKai pining, angst, romance, and fluff.

Written for Valentine's Day 2025 as a celebration for posting my hundredth SoKai story on AO3! 🥳 Thank you all for voting in the poll and for all the support over the years ❤️ This story turned into a five chapter one, so I'm posting the first chapter today, the second chapter on Valentine's Day, and will post the remaining chapters once a week on Fridays.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Life was just different shades of gray and brown now.

Quadratum was the biggest, most bustling place Sora had been to yet. People were everywhere—milling around on sidewalks, filling stores, spilling out of cafés, swarming in and out of stations, crossing streets—and yet never had he felt more dead inside. Alone in a sea of people because he didn't belong. The people around him were living their lives, but for him, this was an afterworld. A life of death. The place he'd been sent as a punishment for abusing the Power of Waking.

No wonder he never felt like smiling. Or when he did, Strelitzia always said it was sad and never reached his eyes. A hollow, broken smile, because that was what he was. Hollow, broken.

She understood though. When you'd had everything ripped away from you, all the people you loved torn from your life just as you were torn from theirs, it was hard not to be hollow and broken.

As he exited Shibuya Station and let himself be carried along by the throng, the fingers of his left hand twitched. He'd heard about people having phantom sensations from limbs that were long gone, and maybe this was something like that. Only his phantom sensations were from someone else. Her absence hurt most of all.

He made his way to the largest crosswalk in Quadratum and wondered, for the millionth time, if things might have turned out differently somehow. If he could've made some choice to save all of them, to save her, and not doom himself. But no, this had been his fate all along. He just had to trust that each step forward was a step closer to home.

What he wouldn't give to see her again in the flesh. She constantly haunted his thoughts and dreams. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured she was there, a smile on her radiant face, the sunshine in her hair. Even in his dreams she couldn't hear his voice, and he inevitably had tears in his eyes when he woke up. He missed his friends, too.

But it was like Strelitzia had said: if their loved ones could live out the rest of their lives happily, she and Sora could be at peace. Not happy, not smiling, but content.

He stepped onto the crossing. A light rain had fallen earlier, and the street was still wet. Puddles reflected the flashing neon lights above. He really missed Destiny Islands. He missed the feeling of sand between his toes and ocean spray on his face and sunsets with no buildings blocking the sky or stars. He missed home.

A loud scream tore through his thoughts. His Keyblade instantly appeared in his hand. His senses honed in on the source of the scream. Sure enough, a giant Darkside had appeared about 20 feet away from him. Everyone stampeded away from it when he needed to go toward it. They carried him along like a riptide back towards the station. He wasted precious time fighting the current until enough people recognized him to shout to the others to let him through, it was the boy with the Keyblade.

The boy with the Keyblade. They didn't know much about him or his past, but they knew what he could do.

He had no idea where Strelitzia was, so he'd have to fight this thing alone. Oh well. He'd done it before. He could do it again. He raced toward it, determined not to let it hurt anyone else. Even when he didn't know what else to do, he could always help.

He hooked Kairi’s lucky charm onto the chain of his Keyblade. Right as he was about to launch himself into the air, a flash of silver caught his eye.

No, it couldn't be. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him. He was just imagining his best friend was here, racing toward the Darkside with his Keyblade in his hand.

“Riku?” he called out, not believing his own voice.

Riku skidded to a halt. He had on a new outfit, and Sora could've sworn he’d gotten even taller somehow (no fair!), but it was really him.

Riku smiled. He actually smiled. “I figured I'd find you here,” was all he said, skipping any greetings. “People needed help, so I knew you'd come running.”

“But how? How did you make it to Quadratum—”

“I'll explain later.” He nodded towards their enemy.

"Right.” Sora couldn't let himself get distracted, no matter how badly he wanted answers.

Even though it had been more than a year, he and Riku still fought together like it was second nature. They used a lot of old tricks as well as a few new ones. Working together, the Darkside didn't stand a chance. They beat it in record time, and it dissipated into smokey oblivion.

Before Riku had even had a chance to banish his Keyblade, Sora threw his arms around him. Riku just chuckled and awkwardly hugged him back.

“I promise I'm really here. It's really me.”

“You're not dead, right? You didn't have to die?”

“Nope. Kairi and I figured out a way to safely get me here.”

Sora pulled away, hoping against hope. “Kairi? Is she here with you?”

Riku’s face fell. “I'm sorry, but no. She wanted to train more. She didn't feel like she was ready.”

Sora felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. “That's crazy. You should've seen her fight Xehanort with me. She was incredible.”

“I'm sure she was, but you know how she is. After what happened, she was worried about being a burden. So she wanted to train again. Get even stronger.”

The blood drained from Sora’s face. “She doesn't still blame herself for my death, does she?” He'd tried to reassure her before he disappeared that it wasn't her fault, and in his dreams he tried to communicate the same thing with heartfelt gestures, but it sounded like she still blamed herself, even after an entire year—

“You'll have to ask her that,” Riku said. “I know she's dying to see you.”

Sora pulled the lucky charm out of his pocket and stared at it. “I'm dying to see her, too.”

Riku's expression softened. “I know.”

Bitter disappointment mingled with the happiness and relief he felt at being reunited with Riku. He was grateful to see his best friend again, but it would've been even better if Kairi had been here too.

Still, he'd make the most of it. Riku was here and that was something worth celebrating. He put the lucky charm back in his pocket. “That's okay. I know I'll see her again soon. Come on, let me introduce you to a new friend of mine.”

Riku just chuckled and shook his head. “Of course you've already made more friends.”

“Hey, it's me.” He put his hands behind his neck and grinned. “Would you expect anything else?”

“No,” was his best friend's wry response. “You'll only hear me say this once, and I'll deny it to anyone who asks, but I did actually miss you, you know.”

“I missed you too.” He'd missed them all, so much. But this was the start of something good, he was sure of it. More reunions would follow. And he would never take a single moment spent with any of his friends for granted ever again.

And when he saw Kairi again? He had been shy and hesitant before, but he wouldn't hold back anymore.

————————————————————————

A/N: I'm going to briefly quote Wikipedia to explain the title:

"Kintsugi (Japanese: 金継ぎ, lit. 'golden joinery'), also known as kintsukuroi (金繕い, "golden repair"), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with urushi lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum…As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise.”

The phrase, “Nothing is whole, and nothing is broken," from the song Sanctuary by Utada Hikaru (the theme song for KH2) reminded me of this concept, so I decided to use Kintsugi as the title of this story.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

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angstsfordays · 1 year ago

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I will go to you like the first snow [2/?]

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x OC! femreader

Summary: "I liked it so much. Watching over you, my heart (is) fluttering." Coryo realizes that loving you and having you are two separate things.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is a warning. Pre-signs of toxic! and possessive! Coryo!

Notes: For new readers to my work, the genre of my writing is usually more angst, sometimes fluff and slightly melodramatic. So if you are expecting anything sexy, I forewarn you that you ain't getting any. If you want sexy in terms of emotions, maybe I will try! Here's another chapter while I still on a writing roll! Happy new year everyone! 🥳🎆

Love, Angstsfordays 🫶🏼

Link to part one here

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This is the last place Coriolanus thought he would spend his last break before his final and senior year at the Academy. The grand Carnell estate was a sight to behold and the privilege of having a chance to step foot into the home ground of the most distinguished family in Panem is one most could only dream of.

Unlike most of the elite in Panem who lived in penthouses, your family is the rare few who gets to live on an entire estate land belonging to themselves aside from the President.

He didn't expect a simple comment he made about roses would actually grant him this privilege.

The two of you were having a short break at your special spot under the Burning Ash tree before your next class was about to begin. While penning down your study notes, you felt that your hair was starting to get in the way as the wind was picking up.

Grabbing a hair tie from your bag, you gathered your loose hair and tie them into a loose tail. Coryo's eyes were fixated at how you held your hair tie between your lips and wondered since when they looked so lovely. The kind that were looked soft and inviting that he would love to just kiss over and over again.

Once you were done tying your hair, Coryo noticed how your already beautiful features stood out even more. His eyes then went down to the mole that rested halfway on the right side of your neck and wondered if he were to kiss that spot, what kind of reaction would you give him?

A particular scent then wafted to his nose as the wind blew once more. It was feminine yet zesty, comforting and making him want to get closer to you to get more of the delicious scent. It then clicked for Coryo why your scent was comforting.

"You smell like roses." Coryo's voice got you to look at him when you barely returned to your notes after tying your hair.

"Oh, you noticed?"

"And something else." His voice was deep and eyes were intent on you. You were starting to feel butterflies again, oh boy. You cleared your throat to avoid sounding like you were nervous.

"Apples."

"Apples?" It came off as question rather than a statement and you chose to elaborate further.

"When my parents moved to District 11, they lived and worked on an apple orchard. I grew up surrounded by apples." This was news to Coryo as you seldom mentioned anything about your father. Rather than being ashamed, Coryo thought you did not want to say anything as it would have triggered deeper emotions within you. Your glassy eyes proved his point.

"My mother has been interested in perfumery lately and she just created this scent. She always liked roses and the apples reminded her of the happier times she had with my father." You were trying to not look at Coryo as you spoke, fearing that you could break down any second. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you willed yourself to look at Coryo for a second before looking down at your notes again.

"I sprayed a little after gym class to not smell. Hope you don't mind."

"No not all. My mother loved roses too." Coryo rarely spoke about his any of his parents. You did know both passed on, his father died from a rebel shooting during the war and his mother in childbirth. Hearing him speak about her to you made you feel special.

Throwing a small smile his way, he caught it and returned one in kind. "She has this compact powder that smelt of roses, sometimes I will take it out when I think of her more on a particular day. " You didn't miss the look of nostalgia and longing in Coryo's eyes as he spoke. Reaching over to cover his hands in yours, your thumb brushed against his knuckles in a comforting effort. Coryo moved his fingers over to engulf your hand in his, tightening his grip to show that he did not want to let your hand go anytime soon.

"My grandma'am also likes to grow roses in our home's rooftop garden. She's rather possessive of them but would sometimes give me one for important occasions." He tried to lighten the mood. A sudden idea popped in your head.

"You should come over to my house!" Coryo's eyes widened at your statement as you excitedly continued on.

"My mother has an extensive personal garden and she has grown many types of flowers including roses! I will ask her if I can have some for your grandma'am!"

"No, I couldn't impose-" Coryo started sputtering which was very unlike him, but why wouldn't him be? It felt so intimate having you invite him over to your home. He had never visited any of his classmates' home ever since his family went into poverty.

"No, you're not. What's the point of so many flowers if you do not share it with someone? I will talk to my mother, she will be more than happy to! She's maybe my grandfather's daughter, but she's the furthest thing from him." Coryo grinned at your child-like excitement before nodding.

"If you insist."

"It's a date then!" You said excitedly not knowing the subtle impact of your words on Coryo. A date with you? Coryo felt like his fantasy just came true.

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So here he was, decked out in his finest clothes to impress. After giving his name to the guards at your front gate, he was let in no more than a minute later. Once he reached the front porch, a handsome ginger haired man who looked around to be in his mid-twenties was waiting for him.

"Greetings, Mr Snow. I am Rowan, a butler to Miss Y/N. As an esteemed guest of Miss Y/N, please allow me to escort you inside." Coryo nodded and muttered a word of thanks before walking through the grand doors that were held opened for him.

The inside of the Carnell estate was truly a sight of marvel, his family penthouse even back in its glory days was nothing in comparison to your family manor.

Greeted by the doubled sided grand stairs at the center, Coryo took the time to drink in the posh interior.

"Coryo, you're here!" His attention was taken by your voice. Coryo looked to see you dressed in mid length flowy dress with a knit sweater. Your hair was different as it was curled in looser waves and it seemed light as it bounced in the air when you made quick steps down the grand stairs.

"Miss Y/N, you know that you're not supposed to run in the manor."

"Please Rowan, grandfather's not here." You rebutted in jest.

"He has eyes and ears everywhere." Rowan reminded you in response. You sidled up closely to your butler and playfully poked him before speaking.

"And I supposed you're one of them? Are you going to tell on me?" Rowan remained unfazed at your childish behaviour although Coryo could tell he was trying to hold in a smile.

Coryo knew you could be playful sometimes but never would he have thought you to behave the same towards your own staff. Afterall, you are the dignified young lady of the house Carnell.

But then again, you were never one for formalities so seeing you acting so casually to your butler was not too surprising either. However, he did not know if he liked that you acting this way to this Rowan.

"I am but a humble servant in service to the honorable Chief Commander Carnell." Rowan placed his right hand over his left chest before offering you a kind smile. You scoffed before turning to Coryo and grabbing his arm. Giving him a wide smile, you were excited at having your best friend over at your home for the first time.

"Come on, let me give you the quickest house tour before we head over to the garden!" Coryo brought a hand to rest on yours and then noticed how Rowan's eyes narrowed in at the physical contact.

'Harboring feelings for your young miss, Rowan?', Coryo's brows raised slightly at this unexpected discovery.

You waved off Rowan who offered to escort the both of you to the garden, reassuring that you knew your way around and wanted him to take a break.

As you started to ramble on about the house tour, Coryo turned back to see Rowan still looking on at the both of you and proceeded to twitch his mouth into a wired smug look.

You can't and never will have her, Rowan.

Once the house tour which was cut short to just the main living areas due to its sheer size (it would have taken half a day to go over the entire estate) was over, you led Coryo to have a meal at the your mother's garden.

You then brought him to where the rose beds laid and to see Coryo's face light up at the sight of the roses made your heart soared. With your mother's permission, you got the gardener to pick some roses and kept them for Coryo's grandma'am later.

Picking up a small budding rose bud that fell from the bunch, you blew off the invisible dust and beckoned Coryo over. Gesturing him to bend closer to your height, you then broke a part of the stem and tucked the flower above his ear and into his golden curls.

Giggling at your work, you brought Coryo over to the fountain nearby and stared at both of your reflection in the water.

"As pure as the driven snow." Crinkling nose at how cringey you came off, you looked down and away from Coryo who was still looking in the water at your shy expression. His hand rested on your shoulder to prevent you from turning away and nudged you to turn towards him.

His fingers then moved to find your chin and tilted it up to have you face him. As light his eyes were, you were able to find yourself in the reflection of those blue orbs.

"Look into my eyes. That is the person who's the real definition of being pure as as the driven snow." His husky voice spoke and your heart trembled at how attractive you found it.

He was very close. You two have never been this close. "Coryo...."

Coryo grinned at seeing how your ears were turning red- a telltale sign of you being embarrassed.

MY little blushing rose.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you held your breath in anticipation of what might happen next. Coryo smiled at your little action and decided that the time was now to make you his. Just one more inch and he will be able to find out if your lips were as lovely as he thought.

"Y/N! My darling, you in here?" An outsider's voice broke the spell between you and Coryo as you took a few steps back. The both of you looked around awkwardly and pretended as if nothing was about to happen just a few seconds prior.

The voice that called for your name spoke again and you realised it was your mother!

"Mother!" You responded to her call as you moved forward. Coryo was disappointed at what transpired but his feeling quickly dissipated and changed to one of nerves when he saw your mother stepped into sight.

Your mother was a gem of a beauty and one might not have believed that she had bore a teenage daughter with her how youthful she looked. She carried herself well just like any elite lady of the Capitol. But what differentiated her was the kind and approachable disposition she also carried, making her even more charming to the heart.

Coryo thought the apple did not fall far from the tree. The only difference that you had from your mother was the energy you gave. If Coryo were to describe you to be warm and bright like sunshine, your mother exuded a calmness like the moonlight.

"There you are, dear. Oh, you must be Y/N's friend." You greeted your mother in a tight hug before letting go.

"I'm Coriolanus Snow. It's nice to meet you , ma'am. Thank you for having me." Coryo saw how your mother looked over his features before forming an affectionate smile.

"You do look alot like your father."

"You knew my father?" His words came out hoarser than he realized.

"Yes, he was once a pupil under my father. I met him and your mother at their engagement party once. She was such a lovely person. It's a shame." She looked at Coryo with sad eyes but they were not pitiful.

"I'm sorry to bring up painful memories, my dear. If there’s anything you ever need, I’m here to help." Your mother reached over to hold both of Coryo's hands. The warmth she radiated was the same as yours, Coryo thought.

"Are the roses enough? Y/N here told me your grandmother grew roses too."

"Yes, more than enough. She would be thrilled." Coryo's answer caused your mother to smile widely, one that mirrored the smile he adored so much.

"That's wonderful. I can't say enough thanks for you taking care of Y/N in school. I was honestly so worried when we moved back to the Capitol and she enrolled in the Academy. It's a rather big adjustment since she lived most her life in an entirely different place. I'm just so glad she has a friend that she can trust."

"I'm very grateful for her too."

"Grateful that I'm keeping you on your toes? You better be prepared for the new school term if you still want to be on top!" You taunted cheekily, trying to cover up how tense you were still feeling from that almost-kiss from earlier.

"Y/N, be nice to Coriolanus here!" Your mother chided you softly. You crinkled your nose in an attempt to be innocent to your mother.

"I am! I always am!" Coryo chortled at your act. "Not when you try to pelt me down with those dodgeballs during gym class just the other week-"

You immediately brought a hand over Coryo's mouth in an attempt to shush him as you didn't want your mother to hear of your 'unlady'-like behaviour in school. Your mother shook her head while giggling at the two of you engaging in a childish fight as Coryo tried prying your hands off and proceeding to aim and tickle for your weak spot.

Coryo just managed to wrap his arms from behind you in a hold to stop you from running away. Your tummy was feeling weak from the laughing so much and Coryo relished in having you snugged in his embrace.

"Miss Esme,” Rowan came in to the garden in hurried steps and greeted your mother first before greeting you. His eyes looked at how Coryo was holding you before meeting the young Snow's with an almost defiant look.

You didn't catch it but was wondering why Coryo was still holding onto you tightly, (not that you didn't like it) but you didn't want to show such intimacy in front of others.

"Master Carnell has returned home." Your eyes furrowed in confusion before speaking, "But he was not to be back until the day after?”

"Apparently, his trip out has been cancelled early due to unforeseen circumstances from the other party." Letting out a deep sigh, you can't believe that your grandfather had returned earlier than expected. You planned for Coryo to come over today, knowing he was making a trip out of the Capitol to provide consultation at the peacekeepers headquarters in district 2.

"Then I guess I have to go, I'm sorry Coryo. I wished you could have stayed longer." You started pouting at the fact that your day with Coryo has to be cut short. Rowan ceared his throat to get your attention.

"Master Carnell is aware that you have a guest and wishes to see all of you in the main foray." Your eyes widened in fear, why would your grandfather want to see Coryo, absolutely not! Who knows what he would say and do to scare Coryo off!

"No no, you do not want to meet him. He's absolutely hor-" Your mother uncharacteristically called your name in an almost shrilling tone.

Pursing your lips tight after your mother's chiding, your eyes wandered to see Coryo biting his lip to hold back his amusement.

"Miss Y/N, we do not want to keep Master Carnell waiting." Letting out a big exhale, you stomped off ahead of the rest to face the music.

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As Coryo entered the main reception area, he first saw the back of your grandfather which stood tall and imposing in his uniform. Hearing the sound of your footsteps, your grandfather turned around and Coryo was immediately reminded of how he used to look up at his father back then.

Your grandfather nodded to Rowan who made his exit shortly after everyone entered the room.

"Esme, Y/N."

"Father." Your mother's voice was polite and sweet.

"Grandpa." You also tried to your best to sound as cordial as your mother.

"What a nice welcome home indeed." Your grandfather was known to be feared by most that knew him but he always reserved the rare warm side of him for the dearest women in his life- his wife, daughter and granddaughter.

This was shown by the small smile (which already meant a lot) on his face as he looked over both you and your mother. The smile immediately dropped however when his eyes moved over to glance upon the young mister Snow.

"I see you brought a guest."

"This is Coriolanus, my friend from school." Usually you would act more of like a brat in front of your stern but albeit forgiving (only towards you) grandfather but you kept in mind that you wanted him to be nice to Coryo and decided to go against your usual routine.

"Mr Snow is it?" Coryo stood a little taller and puffed his chest slightly more to give off a more confident stance at your grandfather's address. He definitely wanted to make a good impression not because he was the great Chief Commander Carnell of Panem but your grandfather too- if he were to ever want you, this was the man he needed to make an impression on.

"Yes sir."

"I heard many things about you." Your grandfather's tone was steadfast.

"I don't remember sharing about Coryo before." You were puzzled as to your grandfather's words before he looked over to you with an almost mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I have my ways." Your grandfather finally let a wide smile as seeing how your eyes widened in astonishment. You wanted to retort before your grandfather continued.

"I trust Y/N was a good host."

"The best, sir." Coryo answered truthfully.

"Hmm, Y/N- would you give us the room to talk?" Your grandfather tilted his head towards you and you furrowed your brows at his statement.

"Grandpa..." You spoke in a slight warning tone. Your grandfather nonchalant to your expression and instead told you he just wanted to have a short chat with Coryo.

With a reluctant step, you walked over to Coryo to pat his arm gently as a form of support. You nodded to him and he responded in kind to ease you of your worry.

"Grandpa, please be nice. Please." You had a love-hate relationship with your grandfather ever since you returned to live with him. While sometimes you were upset whenever you thought of how he treated your parents in the past and his over-demanding tendencies, the moments of tough love he gave you could not be ignored.

You were the only person that could get away with talking back to him and he was always trying to make up to for not being present ever since you were born. Once your mother and yourself were out of sight, your grandfather swiftly addressed the elephant in the room.

"Mr Snow, what are your intentions with my granddaughter?" Coryo had somewhat expected your grandfather to ask this question but it still unnerved him the same.

"I have no other intentions other than being her friend."

Your grandfather didn't seem to take kindly to the politically correct answer that Coryo gave.

"It's funny how you think you can lie to me. I hope you don't think you can use her to your benefit." Coryo started to panic at how direct your grandfather was being. His words were uncompromising and his tone was resolute.

"Never. I would never do that to her. She's too important to me." Coryo justified himself and your grandfather took a short pause before he continued speaking.

"You father was a great man, one of the finest generals I ever got to work with. Your family name is also not one to look over, the Snow is a prominent name." Dread fell upon Coryo as he was being once reminded of how far his family had fallen from the glory days and for your grandfather, a prominent figure in Panem to point them out only served to increase the heart wrenching feeling he always held in his heart.

"My daughter once fell in love with a talented man with no name. And so it seems my granddaughter seems to like a boy that comes with a great name but yet to prove himself worthy of that name." Hearing Master Carnell bluntly saying you liked him sounded too good to be true but of course, Coryo was in high spirits hearing that. He had to control his excitement before responding.

"I don't think Y/N likes me like that, sir." Your grandfather smiled in amusement as he shook his head.

"I may have only reunited with my granddaughter not long ago but I know her well enough. The fact that she acted so cordial with me in front of you which is really unlike her usual self showed me plenty on how she regards you and how she wanted me to like you." Master Carnell took several steps closer to Coryo and the young Snow swore he had to use every fibre of his being to stop his legs from trembling in an obvious manner as the old gentleman stopped a few feet from him.

Your grandfather's eyes instantaneously switched and sent chills down Coryo's spine.

"Mr Snow, you are not worthy. I will tell you this and foremost. Y/N is my only granddaughter. She might not be my successor but I will not doubt she is able to achieve great things and bring glory to the Carnell name." Seeing how Coryo has paled, your grandfather backed up to take it easy on the young man.

"It's a shame what your family has come to after the first war." Coryo sucked in his breath and let out an exhale to give himself the confidence to speak up after all of your grandfather's contempt.

"I am ambitious Sir. I plan to bring my family name back to its glory days." Coryo's answer caught the attention of your grandfather who turned back to face him.

"Are you?" Your grandfather held Coryo in a death stare to see if he truly meant his words and Coryo did try to his best to unyield to your grandfather's micro-aggression.

"Prove it to me and perhaps I shall consider giving you my blessing to even court my granddaughter." It was then that it dawn upon Coryo that wanting you and having you were two separate things. If he ever wanted to have you, your grandfather would be a big obstacle for him to overcome. And for that to happen, Coryo had to gain more power- far more than he initially dreamed of.

Coryo mustered up all the confidence he had before voicing up.

"I will do my best, sir. For Y/N." Your grandfather just nodded before calling for Rowan. It was then you burst into the room like you were on fire.

"Everything is good? Are you alright?" You immediately went over to Coryo's side and placed a hand on his arm. Coryo felt the intense stare that your grandfather was sending and just nodded curtly to you. He added a reassuring smile which relieved you of your worries.

You looked over to your grandfather and spoke, "Thank you for being nice."

"If I knew you would act so demurely whenever your friend is around, I would have invited him sooner." Your grandfather chuckled before looking over at Coryo once more, "feel free to come over whenever you like, Mr Snow."

"Thank you for the hospitality, sir." Coryo replied before your grandfather took his leave. Once the two of your were left alone, you turned to Coryo with both your hands on either side of his arms.

"He didn't say anything to scare you right?"

"I would be lying if I say he's not intimidating but I can tell he loves you very much." Coryo was heartened to see you care so much for him. You scoffed at what your friend said and replied, "He has an odd way of showing it."

"I would do the same if I had such a beloved granddaughter myself." Your face crinkled at how cheesy Coryo was but you didn't give it too much thought.

"But I think everything seemed to go well, he even said you could come over next time. Thank goodness. You did well." Coryo preened at your praise and you stretched your hand to place it on his head affectionately.

Coryo leaned in and felt his heart fluttering as he watched over you looking at him with such pure fondness. You were the only one who ever watched him with such pure adoring eyes.

I will do whatever it takes to have you, Y/N. Nothing and no one will get in my way.

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Thank you for the support through the likes and reblogs! ♥️ Do let me know what you think of this chapter in the comment section!

I will open up a tag list for anyone who's interested to follow this series! 😆

#tbosas #coriolanus snow x you #angstsfordays #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #i will go to you like the first snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x oc

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lyramundana · 2 years ago

Note

today is five years since I started to follow stray kids ^^ have you even thought of a fan!reader and minsung in skz? how the things can grow between them? 👀

sorry I'm such a delulu -🌻🌻

Congrats for staying in this circus so long!!🥳 And yes. Fan!MC x idols is actually one of my favourite tropes, and I find it unsettling that there's not much content about it.

And don't ever apologise from being delulu, honey. My blog is pure delulu material and proudly, so don't hold back.

Anyway, here you go, my sunflower. Sorry for the waiting:

MINSUNG X STAY! READER

Reader has been a devoted Stay for a long time. However, as much as she loves all the members, Han and Minho hold a special place in her heart. Not only because of them individually, but mostly because of their relationship.

Because yeah, no one can convince her these two are just friends. She refuses to believe it. She sees the signs, the gestures, the body languages. You can't fake these kind of things. She feels it in her bones. She lives, breathes and moves for this ship. Plus, they look so fucking good together! You can say she's more in love with their chemistry than she is with them as people.

She's a Minsung supporter first, a Stay second. While most Stays dream of asking their bias questions about dating, their ideal types and trying to flirt with them, the only thing Reader wants to do if she sees the members is gossip with them about Minsung. She'll take any crumbs she can get from them about her favourite couple and feed into her fantasies. Of course, she'll also tell all of them how wonderful they are and thank them for bringing light to her life with their mere existence.

When the news of a fansign spread out, Reader fighst tooth and nail to get a spot there. She prepares consciously before going. She's so excited! She feels like she's buzzing in her skin from the emotions. She makes sure to dress prettily to make a good impression, but since she doesn't really have the intention of "catching their eyes", she's not too preoccupied. She's in for their music, their personalities and the hot homo couple. Sure, she admires how handsome they are and will most likely be ogling at them a bit, but she knows where she stands and where they do. She arrives just in time to see them coming and her eyes almost fall off her face when she catches a glimpse of Han and Minho coming off the van...together and exchanging sweet glances.

Yeah, she's going to take full advantage of this fansign.

She walks to the line and talks with each member while they sign her album. She asks them about their day, their projects, she compliments their songs and express how much she loves them and how grateful she is for all their work. She dares to throw a pick up line at Chan that ends up with both of them flustered and him giggling like a high school girl. But she never looses sight of her main objectives, and she almost faints right there when she realizes they're sitting next to each other, so while she speaks to one the other will hear.

Perfect. It's like they did it on purpose.

She gets to Han first, who receives her with that signature smile of his and the friendly behaviour he always displays. Even though he seems natural about it, she can notice he's a bit tired. Her heart aches for the boy, but it inmediatly dissapears when she comes back to her intentions. That's right. This might be the closest she'll be to the group, and she doesn't want to have any regrets later when she returns home. So she buries her growing nervousness at being in front of her bias and focus on the task at hand.

They have the typical converstation. He greets her, thanks her for coming, and exchange questions. She notices Jisung is a bit tired and isn't really in the mood to talk, so she decides to use the moment to catch him by surprise and make him ignore his exhaustion. Before he can sign another page, she stops him, making him look at her confused and even worried, only to tell him to sign somewhere else, an extra page she added. When he looks up to it, he sees this:

"You guys have my whole support. Please, invite me to the wedding" and a rainbow colored heart written in the entire page. He blinks at it and stares at her with a confused giggle.

She winks at him and throws a not so discreet glance at Minho. Han inmediatly stumbles through his words and almost falls of the chair. At least he seems to have energy again. The boy doesn't know if play along to pretend it's all fanservice or deny it all, but Reader whispers to him that "friends don't look at each other like that" and that she's incredibly enamoured of their bond, how happy she is for them for finding each other. Jisung listens to all in shocked silence, still feeling shy but also a certain warmness in his heart at the girl's words.

He expected the usual banter with a fan. Shyness from both parts, random questions about his life and hobbies, his ideal type and some flirting he'll usually play along with. At worst, some hater to spill hate at him. This, however, he couldn't have ever see it coming. When the time is out, he lets her go almost reluctantly but smiling at her so widely she knows it's not forced.

When she greets Minho, she notices the fidgeting of his fingers and his red ears, and guess he has heard some words. Enough to know what she was talking about. His english sounds so tiny and cute she can't help but say it out loud. He smiles shyly and thanks her, proceeding to sign until Reader stops him too, opening the album to the same page was before. He reads a bit slower than Han, taking in the words, and his ears are now completely red. He coughs and his grip on the pen is a bit unstable. He stares at Jisung's signature next to the heart and then smiles, signing right next to it. Reader wants to burst out of her body, and she lets out a tiny fangirl squeal at his gesture, at which he giggles shyly and returns at looking through the album. Much like with Jisung, she only asks a handful of questions for him before focusing on Minsung again. She talks completely sure that they're dating and she covers Minho on nice comments about it. He'll fight to not show a big reaction, but he's fucking melting inside. He starts to feel more relaxed and, unlike Jisung, he replies shamelessly to all her comments. She's overall really enthusiastic about their relationship more than she's with them and it amuses him for some reason. It's refreshing to have this kind of interaction with a fan, even more if she's respectful about it. Jisung is listening to everything not so discreetly and almost joins. When the time is up, Minho actually grabs her hand and asks the guard for some more minutes with a pout, but he isn't allowed. Reader is sad about it too but understands she has to go. She feels satisfied with herself for what she did and decides to keep it as a sweet memory.

When they wave goodbye at her, she winks at them and says that they look so cute together. They're flustered again but also happy.

Reader doesn't know yet, but whent he fansign is over and the boys meet in their dorms, her favourite couple talks about her and they both agree they wish they could see her again. It felt so good having someone so openly supportive of them, even if it was born out of a fan enthusiasm for her idols. They wish more people could be like that. They wonder if what she said was true and there are more Stays like her.

After that, the boys are already interested in having a closer bond with her, but it's not romantic yet. When Reader encounters again by accident during a date, she struggles between taking a photo for herself and run away to avoid the sasaeng charges or continue her way and pretend she doesn't see them. Before she can decide, she's spotted and they're surprisingly friendly with her. Reader expresses how honoured she feels for having see the Minsung on a date and basically have her beliefs confirmed and excuses herself for interrupting it, swearing she won't tell a soul (because she doesn't want anything to ruin her ship) and attempts to leave. However, she gets thrown back when Jisung, after exchanging a glance with Minho, invites her to stay with them and keep them company. "The more the merrier" he says. Reader feels tempted, the offer of staying to watch Minsung in their natural love bubble sounds too good, but she claims that she shouldn't be in the middle of a romantic date and they wouldn't be able to interact as openly as they would like with a third person there. But they insist so much she ends up complying. She's mostly in silence, watching with heart eyes every gesture they share, and squeals from time to time because they're so adorable together. It feels like a private fanservice show, except she knows it's not fanservice and has no idea why they brought her, but she's not complaining.

They actually include her in the converstation, but she makes most of it about them. She doesn't see the need to speak about herself when she's having this golden chance. In the end, they ask for her contact number (and her signature for a NDA contract) because the want to be friends. Reader doesn't even hesitate and agrees.

And that's how she becomes close to them. She makes sure to keep the distance at first and not get too into it because she sees them as idols, and so she feels them out of her league, while they try to make her more comfortable with them. Their dynamic is basically "gay couple x agressively supportive bestie". She lives off the romantic momens they have, encouraging them to be more expressive about their feelings when she's there and ready to fight any bitch that judges them for being specially affective towards each other. Minsung are golden in her eyes, they deserve to have love and they have something precious. She's not about to let anyone make them feel bad for it or, worse, make them stop having their interactions.

Meanwhile, the boys become addicted to all the love and adoration she shows for them, and get a warm feeling inside their chests when they see how much she supports them. It feels so good to have someone besides the members that knows about it and is completely accepting of it (maybe too much, but they like it). They won't ever admit but they low-key find it hot when she argues or fights homophobic jerks for them.

Eventually she gets to see them as friends rather than celebrities, and this comes with privilegues. Reader receives spoilers from new songs and projects, they buy her VIP tickets for concerts (they wanted to bring her backstage but she prefered to live the experience like a normal fan), they might show more fanservice than usual when they're in her zone. And of course, she gets the privilege to see the dorms. Reader wouldn't have ever believe she'll be friends with the guys she previously worshipped (and still does tbh) but turns out they make great company and she has so much fun with them. They find things in common beyond music and hang out often. Suddenly, she's in a group chat with both and there isn't a day where they don't talk.

As time passes, things start to...change.

Everyone but them can see it. They basically act like three way marriage without noticing. They include her in all their dates, to the point that they don't even go anywhere without her. She's at the dorms more often than Chan himself, usually locked in Han or Minho's rooms and barely seen by the other members. Minho becomes less of a tease with her and instead acts softer, treating her with the same gentleness than Jisung. The younger boy becomes more physically affectionate with Reader. Hugging her from behind, dragging her to sleep with him so they can cuddle, kissing her face and call her stuff like "baby". Minho forgives her everything and shows her a patience that the other members don't believe him capable of. Like, if she makes a mistake, he'll pat her head and encourage her to keep trying, but if the other members do, he'll scold them until tomorrow.

Now they don't feel comfortable seeing her show her admiration for the rest of the group. They're so used to be the center of attention that now they can't stand it when she praises the others or looks at them with the same adoration. If they catch her interacting with other members' fancams or videos, they "playfully" take the phone away and exit the app before return it to her. If another member (example Hyunjin) speaks to her longer than a few minutes, they're rigid. Oh, and god forgive they see her screaming someone's else name during a concert. After all, she's a Stay, so they're aware she can be attracted to the other guys. And they don't fucking like it. They're supposed to be her favourites!

Now come to think of it they may have a problem..

Reader doesn't notice the shift, or she does but her brain instantly processes it as "friendly" banter. There's just no way Han Jisung and Lee Minho themselves, being perfect as they are and happily in love, have a minimum of romantic/sexual interest for her. It doesn't sound right. They already have something great going on, how the hell could she be part of it? She doesn't fit. And so she tells herself all of this to ignore the butteflies on her stomach whenever she's between them, feeling the warm of their bodies covering her. When Jisung calls her sweet nicknames and kisses her cheeks, when Minho feeds her like she was a baby and rubs his head against her tummy to ask for massages. When they drag her to their bed to sleep in the middle and cuddle, each hugging her from the sides.

Yeah, that's all platonic. Nothing to worry about.

(Even the moments when she feels horny and burning with desire while she sees them being passionate with each other, kissing and grooping the other, and she can't help but hide her face in the pillows and make herself climax to that image)

But all these arguments she repeats in her head become dust when, during one of their dates, Minho wanted to drink and play games, and of course she agreed. Jisung hesitated because of his light weight thing, but he relented in the end to join the fun. The drank and asked each other private questions or dared them to do dumb things. The drunker they got, the more tense things grew in the room. The challenges became more suggestive. At some point, Reader dares them to make ou in front of her, for five minutes. The boys have no problem complying, gone as they are, and they specially put on a show for her eyes. Reader feels her skin melting and not because of the alcohol. Suddenly, when they stop with a thin string of saliva between their mouths, they look at her with darkened eyes and filled with an emotion she can't comprehend, but makes her cross her legs.

What happened next was blurry, but she remembers clearly the feeling of their warm breaths against her neck where their lips were hungrily biting her and the air hiting her skin when her clothes were tored off her. She remembers so vividly the way their hands roamed her, their husky voices, the delicious climax in the end and the darkness that came over her eyes when she fell asleep.

When she wakes up next morning unable to walk and with two familair bodies pressing against her, she knows there's no point in continue running away from the truth.

They have a loong talk after that, in which there are messy confessions thrown and some tears from all parties. It ended with a three way hug and a promise to try, to see wherever this lead.

In short, the relationship will be sweet (because that's how they are) but as Stay it'll add an interesting layer into it. I think there might be some power imbalance at first, because their dynamic is pretty much "celebrities x enthusiastic fan" and so they don't really treat each other as equals. I'll like to say that Minsung wouldn't be entirely comfortable with this, but I can't help but think some sick part of them would enjoy it. They would enjoy this power they have over Reader, the sheer devotion she shows to them, how she lightens up with their attention. Again, they're possessive and easily jealous assholes, so they like to know their partner utterly adores them.

THE END

#here you go darling #i almost had a writer's block but i overcame it!#requested #poly minsung #minsung x reader #lee know/han jisung x reader #skz scenarios #skz reactions #skz headcanons #sunflower anon

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fandomfluffandfuck · 9 months ago

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congrats on finishing finals mr s!!!! 🥳 hope u have a good break :)

(on a semi-related note, i would like to humbly request evanstan spitkink if u havent done so already, but if u have... 🤲)

Thank you so much!!

I've written a tiny bit of spit kink with stucky in my series "You Can('t) Teach An Old Dog New Tricks," specifically in chapter one of "Shake" so if you haven't read that, I would highly recommend it, lol.

Also, while on the stucky spit kink train, if you haven't read this drabble from K (@howdoyousleep3) that has her pairing of Senator Rogers and Intern Bucky with spit kink, I would highly, highly recommend that, too. Maybe even more than mine because, Jesus Christ, it's K, c'mon, of course it's stupidly hot.

Without further ado, evanstan and spit kink 👀

Sebastian has already cum multiple times, he couldn't say if it was twice or a hundred times because he doesn't have the capacity to recount anything right now--not his own name and hardly anything as complex as numbers that string together to make any form of sense. All that exists is flames and heat and this. This moment where he's being kept in a glass enclosure of pleasure. Untouched but so, so touched. Guh. That doesn't make sense. It doesn't need to. He loves this. He needs this. He aches for this. Kept bound, sweet, and small underneath Chris, who is so indescribably big and heavy and perfect.

Sebastian has made a slick mess all over himself, all over Chris, too, from cumming his brains out until there's nothing left. He's pulsed and rippled and throbbed through the height of pleasure so many times that his cock--which he knows is dizzying, hazily, somewhere down there, along the yielding, melted line of his body, but he can hardly locate at the moment--has gone soft. He's aware of just how soft he is, despite feeling so, so unbelievably hard because Chris keeps fondling him.

Stroking his soft, weeping cock, drawing more, endless liquid from it that might be more cum, it might be pre-cum because time is nothing if not broken at this moment, it might be piss, commanded into emptying himself in every conceivable way possible, it might be all of him--he might be truly liquid.

Cupping his soft cock against his clenching tummy, trapping the tortured shape between his calloused, heavy palm and his body--encased, surrounded, overwhelmed just like Sebastian is.

Petting his soft cock, down the limp length as if it's precious. Treating the vulgar sight of his used, exploited dick as if it's innocent and cute. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Sebastian has never experienced something so filthy.

As insane as Chris is driving him, caressing him with one hand while he's driving in and out of him ruthlessly, fucking him out of his goddamn mind, Sebastian can't do a single thing about it.

Touched.

Fucked.

Groped.

Helpless, Sebastian is spread thin like butter soaking into hot toast with his hands tied to each opposite corner of the headboard. He's anchored there by Chris' silk neckties, a caress of possessive hands in of themselves, scented with Chris' favorite cologne and normally hung around his neck in the presence of wealthy, powerful people when they're not immobilizing his favorite boy. His arms are spread to their limit, muscles straining deliciously, pinned at the wrist. There's no hope of escape. Sebastian wouldn't dream of moving anyway. He's too good. He wants to live here like this, no matter how crazy it makes him feel.

He's crying, sweating, or drooling maybe? What's the difference anyway? Either way, he's wet. And he's moaning high in his throat, gasping, raw, and rattled harshly by how exquisitely he's being pounded. Loving it. He can't get enough of it, even as it boils over and becomes way, way too much. Overstimulation isn't a strong enough word. It's beyond.

Sebastian's legs aren't tied like his arms, but they are quivering and held tightly around Chris' trim waist, curled so tightly that his heels dig into his feverish body. Clinging.

As he's fucked--harshly, obscenely--Sebastian's near-incoherent pleas have degraded from begging, bitten-off sounds that seek permission to cum to high noises that plead for Chris to cum. He wants Chris to cum in him. Chris hasn't orgasmed yet, he's been too busy. Preoccupied with Sebastian, all needy and aching.

Somehow, somewhere, at some fucking point, Chris began this torture by rimming Sebastian open. Chris bodily pressed him into the bed and spread him, pushing him face down, ass up to devour his way through him. Eating him out. Getting him so fucking wet. Teasing his skin with his facial hair until Seb was red and lushly sensitive between his cheeks and Chris' beared jaw was soaked, Sebastian's taste thick on his wicked tongue. He made Sebastian spill over that way, the slick, hot feeling of his lips and tongue and teeth and beard irresistible. Then. Then, as if he wasn't already wiped out, boneless, and sweetly moldable, Chris had to keep going.

He folded him up, pushing him to his knees, keeping his arms underneath his chest, perfect for teasing his own nipples if only he had enough coordination, and fingered him. Chris made him sloppier, looser on his thick fingers. Three of them. God. He spanked his ass, too, using his other hand knowing Seb's always weak for the white-hot pain. It was out of Seb's control to not clench and squirm, tightening him around his fingers, helping Chris press and rub his prostate until he couldn't stop it anymore and he had to overflow. Pouring. Cumming again. And after-!

After, Chris fucked him with his dick for the first time today. Not the last time. No, of course not, why would he ever fuck Sebastian once when he could luxuriate in the pleasure of sticking it in him aaaaall day.

Guh.

Sebastian was so focused on how heavy and full of cock he felt--split open and speared through his belly into his throat, choking on it--that he doesn't even know if he orgasmed again or not. Maybe he did more than once, maybe he didn't at all without Chris' fist around his then hard cock. He doesn't remember. Just his dick, that's all he remembers feeling. It felt so good. Before Chris had the satisfaction of riding his ass to notification, though, he ripped himself away like a lion from a fresh kill. All for the purpose of playing with his food before he feasted. A true feline, then. Full of blood lust but really just pure lust.

Chris made room for himself inside Sebastian's throbbing body, used him for as long as he pleased, fucking him, and then stuffed him with a vibrator. Because...

Why not?

What else is he good for?

Nggghh.

Sebastian came that way, too, teeth chattering against the torrent of pleasure flowing through him electrically. It was raw, clenching, and so incredibly sensitive. He emptied himself.

And so Seb feels hollow of anything more to give. He's given it all. What's left is everything Chris has stuffed inside of him, molten heat. And despite the lust inside him, filling him, he can't get it back up. He's not going to be able to cum again even though, paradoxically, everything makes him feel like he's cumming. He's stuck, pinned down in a reverent, flowing, liquified state like a white-water rapid river. Everything runs and bleeds together here, in this moment, it's like wet paint. The only picture that could possibly be painted this way is one of pure ecstasy.

Towering over him, heavy and scorching, Chris hoarsely groans. He's back inside him after teasing him with that godforsaken vibrator, and it's wearing them both down fervently. "Y-you want me so bad," he taunts him as if he isn't working him over so good he's making him stupid, forgetting his own name with his dick grinding deep enough to make it hard to breathe, choking. "You want anything of me you can get, don't'cha, baby?" It's a question, but Chris already knows the answer and he fucking knows it well. "You'll take anything, isn't that right, honey?"

Seb has been stripped down too far to be anything but embarrassingly honest. Frantically, he whimpers through a fast, uncoordinated nod.

"I'll give you what you need, sweet thing," he promises, voice rough like a barely caged animal. So tantalizingly close to feral.

Sebastian believes him, god, he believes him with everything he has. Of course, he will. He always does.

"Open," Chris demands, cocky because, naturally, Seb does, just like Chris knows he will. He's delightfully sweet and predictable, after all.

Sebastian does it thoughtlessly, groaning with the spear of pleasure that shoves into him just from being good and obedient like he craves. And without his hips missing a beat, Chris resettles his weight, holding himself up with just one strong arm as he delivers on his promise to give him what he needs--sticking two fingers between Sebastian's gaping, swollen lips.

His lips are all puffy and red because he couldn't quit biting his bottom lip earlier, when he had more control over his own body and motor function, before he melted into a puddle and stayed all open and lax.

Fingers between those glistening, red lips, Chris presses down on his tongue to drag his jaw open wider. Just because he can. Then, he spreads his fingers apart as much as he can, feeling the velvet of the insides of Sebastian's cheeks on his index and middle finger, making a V-shape in his mouth. And while he's at it, teasing, already, Seb has started to drool, his salivary glands tingling, his whole face tingling--he knows this is embarrassing, somewhere, in the muffled, turned-down logical part of his mind that takes a backseat whenever Chris starts touching him, turning him on, but Seb doesn't fucking care that it's embarrassing beyond the heat it brings. Feeling hotter. All he cares about is being good and wet and open for Chris.

All his holes good and wet and open.

Invading his mouth, Chris leans in to do the same to his personal space. His frame dangerous and looming, predatory almost, as he puts their faces close together, posturing up as if he's going to knock him out with a lush, filthy kiss--like he's going to fuck his mouth with his tongue and claim him further. But he doesn't. Chris does something better.

Chris gets so fucking close to him, weighing on him, pressing him hard into the bed, and...

Spits in his mouth.

Sebastian's entire world breaks from its axis. The sound that leaves him in response to having Chris' spit in his mouth, wet on his already drooling tongue, is nothing short of pornographic.

And, oh fuck, the sensation of being claimed so tabboo-ly, spit on, defiled and dirtied, in tandem with the grin that splits Chris' handsome face has Sebastian moaning worse. More. The sound that was all rasp and punched-out turns into loud, molten lust. He's moaning as if he's cumming all over again, pleasure erupting. More than he can take. It's fucking awful. That sensation. The fucking look on Chris' fucking face--unhinged, sharp pleasure at being so in control and knowing that it's all Seb wants. It ruins Sebastian for everything else ever. Immediately. He's fucking gone.

Spoiled.

How is he ever supposed to get off any other way for the rest of his life? That fucking grin. Sharp and predatory and knowing. He knows exactly what he does to Sebastian--how he devastates him and tears him down, stripping him to exposed nerves that sing only for Chris.

All Seb can do is swallow. He swallows again, too. He wants it. He wants all of it so badly.

"You'll take even that, won't you?" Chris' hand not holding himself up to keep rolling his hips, keep fucking him, is suddenly at his throat, pressing, blunt fingernails digging in so his pulse throbs through him like a drum beat so harshly by a fist that it nearly bursts.

Ah!

His thick, strong fingers are still wet with Sebastian's and Chris' own spit. Mixed into a terrible, incredible cocktail. Messy and hot and now smeared into his skin like a sizzling brand. He's owned.

Sebastian swallows a kitten-ish mewl, mortifying in its desperation, only to embarrass himself worse when he can't choke back his assent, "mmmh, mmm-hhm!" He moans. He sobs, "th-thank you."

Chris' fingers bite harder into his throat, and Sebastian hears an angel's choir, "ohh, Seb," his rough, low voice purrs, "what a good boy, such good manners after you get what you want. Look at you, aren't you sweet?"

The only thing that Sebastian's body is capable of doing it quivering, sobbing harder. "Pluh-pleeease!" He cries.

Chris knows what he wants, and beyond, Chris knows what he needs.

Seb might think he's begging for Chris to cum--use him, fill him, fuck him--but Chris just spits into his mouth again. This time, some of it gets on his cheeks and chin, too.

Sebastian was already cracked open and exposed, but then, right fucking then, he shatters. His tongue lolls from his mouth, wanting it all, licking his buzzing, swollen lips, and swallowing his spit.

JesusfuckingChrist.

He's such a mess. It's painted all over his face. He's so wet. And he, he, he just vacates his overwhelmed body and floats, so entirely, perfectly used and consumed, he doesn't need to do anything. So he doesn't. Sebastian hovers. Weightless clouds and spun cotton candy, nothing but desired as Chris has his way with him, doing everything, anything to him. Wring orgasms out of his body, bleeding him dry. Fuck him. Fill him with his release. Spit on him--spit in his mouth. Yes. Yes. Yes.

#asks #fandomfluffandfuck #chris evans #sebastian stan #evanstan #rpf #real person fanfiction #sub seb #subastian #sub sebastian #dom chris

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 2 months ago

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Oooh! Congratulations!! 🎆🥳🎂

This event is perfect for a thought that has been tumbling around in my head for a while. You know all those sappy love songs that our parents listened to? I feel like 98% of those are Jason coded.

Such as:

I Don't Want to Miss a Thing - Aerosmith

How do I Live - LeAnn Rimes

Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman? - Bryan Adams

Even Backstreet Boys' : I'll Never Break Your Heart

I know that there are more, but I can't think of more off the top of my head. You don't have to link each one to one of your amazing, wonderful, spectacular fics ✨. Knowing that you took the time to read this is special enough!

Have a wonderful night! 💗

-🦧

Thank you! 💚 And you are actually so right for this, nonnie!! Jason is ever the romantic, and if he crosses into sappy territory, well, that is not a crime, and he'll convince you into being sappy right along with him. Now, all of these are such classic songs and I had to think so hard about which ones to choose fr

I just had to do Aerosmith first, they have so many iconic songs! I Don't Want to Miss a Thing makes me think of Between Heartbeats. Now, I know that one is a little angsty here and there but,

when his vision is starting to go dark and he can't quite make out the voices coming through his helmet, he dreams of touching you one more time, telling you how much you mean to him. He can picture it so clearly, the brightness of your eyes, the feel of your skin against his, the smell of your scent in his nose.

is so that song!! He's just so crazily in love. His first thought in the morning and his last thought before he goes to sleep is always going to be of you

And, ofc, I can't ignore The Backstreet Boys. I'll Never Break Your Heart makes me think of Stick Around. The chorus honestly fits so well with Jason confessing his feelings. Just "I'll give you all of me Honey, that's no lie." No more explanation needed. (and now I'm picturing him singing the lyrics to you 🫣)

#raes 1¼k follower event #🦧

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mybiasisexo · 5 months ago

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havent done a life update in a min so here it is

ive officially been living in california for a little over a week now!!!!! 🥳 ive already felt an earthquake so... *plays annies 'i think im gonna like it here

we live in a house now and its really nice! we also have 3 roommates so theres 6 of us in total lol. 3 boys and 3 girls. its taking some adjusting but they are all so cool and welcoming and grown lol. Im the baby of the bunch which, thank god.

im STILL unemployed and trying to figure that out. i owe so much money to so many ppl idk wtf im gonna do. Should I sell feet pics or wat??

im 30 now 😬. what a weird thing to say like huh?? nah im still 20. imma blink and be 60 this is CRAZY!!!

i also forgot about my damn drabble game... oops!!! yall probably: we are not surprised girl all you do is forget you write 🙄!!!! daaaamn yall dont have to be so mean 😔

anywhoooo. im slooooooowly getting myself together yall. im really trying. i have a fresh fresh fresh new start and i want to be the best version of myself frfr. its gonna take time and most importantly EFFORT but i want to achieve this dream if nothing else. its so simple.

if youve gotten this far, thank you so much for being curious about me lol and pls keep my sister and father in your thoughts bc they are currently in the eye of hurricane milton 😔💕

#personal

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thepaintedlady00 · 2 years ago

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Nightshade

Chapter 13 | Chapter 15

Chapter 14: Umami

An update!!! 🥳🥳🥳 Sorry for the long wait y'all. I am back! So hopefully the updates will get back to normal now. Thank you all for being patient 🥰 I hope you enjoy the chapter!

TW: More Jennifer horribleness, mentions of cancer and minor suicidal thoughts/implications, spicy dreams and very inappropriate thoughts, some wholesome Harrow fam content, Jake boxing 🥵, Lena being a bit of a tease, as always language, mentions of alcohol and drugs, the idiots are idioting, phone sex? Lena vs. Jennifer, Ozzy vs. Jennifer aka protective dad Oz, memories of blood and violence, Lena receives some unwanted attention, straight-up violence (mentions of knives & lots of punching) My editing site is on the fritz and I sped edited this so please take any mistakes with a grain of salt!

Moments of true freedom - from life and even from one's own thoughts - were rare, especially in this city. The noise and the strong smells and the bright lights all demanded immediate attention and, at times, made settling impossible. That was why walking through the old gym, surrounded by the steady sounds of fists striking the sandbags and Patrick's loud voice practically shouting encouragement at those he worked with, was peaceful. That, above all familial ties, was why The Ring was special.

Boxing had always been a passion for Peter. There was a time when he'd practically lived and breathed it. He'd been so strong then, so agile in and out of the ring. So how was it he now stood, panting in front of the lightest punching bag they had? Cancer. Right, he thought, forcing his thin, sore body to take a stance in front of the bag and punch. Just one more. He'd tell himself, though one often turned into ten which then turned into too many.

Patrick watched him; no matter what part of the gym he was in or what task he was doing, Peter could feel his brother's eyes. It both made him feel comfortable and irritated. He was the big brother. It was his job to be watching them, but he couldn't even do that. The image of Lena's worn down, fearful expression she'd shown him a few days ago after her encounter with Jennifer flashed in his mind. He ground his teeth together, punching as hard as he could. She didn't deserve to feel that way, not after what she lived through, and he'd sworn… He'd promised to protect her. Peter believed himself in many things, but now chief among those was one word. One damning title he knew he'd never be rid of. Liar.

Anger had never fueled him before, he'd never needed it to, but now that seemed to be the only thing he had left. The only thing the damn leukemia hadn't stripped him of. Peter missed his hair and his muscle and the way he could eat and drink whatever he wanted without worrying about throwing it all up immediately after. He missed the days when he'd dance with his father in the ring and get to listen to the older man's stories. He missed the peace that boxing had once brought him.

"The Harrow's got their demons, boy," his father always said. "Demons you ain't been touched by. It's bout the only thing I'll give the Glovers credit for."

Lena had always been haunted by Dad's fabled Harrow Demons. She'd been brash and angry and hurt for years after she'd come to live with them permanently. Peter remembered those days so clearly. Patrick and Lena fought until they were both bloody and bruised - Pat, the wary stray dog that saw Lena's trauma and anger as a threat to the life he'd somehow stumbled into, and Lena, the stray cat that saw Patrick's size and temper and was incapable of separating him from the others that had abused her - Ozzy and Dad arguing over what to do about the fighting and drugs and discontent. Boxing was the one thing that took all their noise and chaos and demons and turned it into something better.

Better was when his sister didn't flinch at his every move, and Patrick stopped sneaking food from the table to hoard in that hideous old backpack full of essentials he kept under his bed for years. Better was Dad and Ozzy sharing long looks as they all sat around the table at Nana's eating dinner together. It was watching his siblings playfully bicker as they turned on Ghostbusters - Dad's favorite movie - before they passed out on the floor of their tiny living room. He closed his eyes, clinging to the faint feeling of warmth the memories brought him as he imagined his Dad's warm embrace as he and Ozzy smashed him between them on the old couch.

Passion, love, warmth. That's what he should have felt as his fists hit their target, but it wasn't. The comforting warmth turned cold as a bitter, frustrated, and angry shout escaped his throat, and he nearly fell to the floor. Patrick was at his side in an instant, his brother's coarse hands settling onto his shoulder, discreetly holding him steady. "Easy there, hot shot. Don't wanna break the bag or any bones."

Peter knew his words were teasing, but the tight cold anger that squeezed his throat didn't seem to care. He shrugged off Patrick's hands and glared at him. "I'm fine."

"Pete," his brother started.

"Fuck off, Patrick." He didn't sound like himself but rather some hollow shell of what he used to be.

Thank god Patrick knew when to leave well enough alone. "Holler if you need me, big brother," he patted his shoulder with no look of pity or anger at Peter's harshness but rather a soft smile. "I'll be here."

He'd never admit it to those closest to him, but Peter was afraid. Leukemia wasn't a simple thing. It was a death sentence for so many, and part of him couldn't help but scoff at the idea that he would be any different. Nestled comfortably beside that dark thought was another, equally ugly. Maybe death would be better.

Catching a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, he felt the disconnect cut through him like he was made of butter. The face staring back wasn't him. It was too old, too thin, and too… Dead to be him. He remembered what his face was supposed to look like - full cheeks and a wide smile, shaggy brown hair, and life inside his eyes. Peter didn't know the person that stared back at him. Had the cancer taken that too? Had it taken all he was as well as all he could have been?

Behind him, someone cleared their throat, and Peter bit the inside of his cheek. "I said I'm fine, Pat. Just leave it."

"That's hardly a tone a son should have with his mother." Everything inside him stilled. He didn't want to look, didn't want to face the woman that had hurt him more than the cancer ever could. After the initial shock, his father's stubbornness and Ozzy's pride filled his lungs, forcing him to turn and glare at the old wrinkled face of Jennifer Glover.

She looked different than he remembered, though his memory of her was limited to his early childhood, where her skin had been smooth, and her blonde hair hadn't been speckled with strands of gray. It was the smile that made him angry again. Soft and smug, condescending even when coming to grovel. "It's a good thing I'm not your son then, isn't it?"

"Come now, darling." She dared a step forward and extended her hand to his cheek. For a moment, it almost looked like she was hurt, seeing him so sickly. For a moment, Peter could have fooled himself into believing she cared. "You look so-"

He brushed her hand off him. "I don't need you to tell me how sick I look."

"Older. I was going to say you looked so much older than I imagined." Jennifer chuckled, shaking her head. "I was sorry to hear about your diagnosis."

"Sorry?" He spat. "Spare me the pity and just tell me what you want."

She recoiled slightly with a disappointed hum. "I want to spend time with my son."

Peter laughed then, bitter and cold. "Ahh, of course. I'm only worth your time when I'm dying, right?"

"There's no need to be cruel, Peter." Jennifer sighed. "I'm trying to show you I care."

"Too little too late." He sucked in a hot breath, putting a fire in his lungs. "You could have reached out years ago… You could have never left, but you did. What was it you said that day?" The look on her face told him she remembered, but the way she pulled her lips tightly together told him she wasn't going to admit it.

She knelt down and took his hands in hers, smiling at him while Dad held onto Lena as if his life depended on it. "Your sister and I are going away."

"Will you be back soon?" He asked the child-like innocence in his voice hopeful.

"No." His mother fixed his hair with a look of disinterest.

His brows knit together. "Can I come to visit you?"

She sighed. "Lena and I will be very busy, and we likely won't be in one place long enough for visits."

"I'm not going to see you again?" He asked. "But… You're my mom." His eyes drifted to Lena. "She's my sister. We're a family."

"You have too much of your father in you," was her bitter reply. "He is your family. Lena is mine."

Peter felt his heart shatter at her words. "I don't understand."

Jennifer squeezed his hands and stood. "Goodbye, Peter."

He could only stand in shock and watch her glare at Dad as he whispered to Lena. "I promise I'll see you again, slugger."

She practically ripped Lena away and shoved the small child into the back of the cab, turning over her shoulder. "Remember my promise, Jack."

Dad shook his head and spit on the sidewalk. "Remember mine too, Jen."

"I had too much of my father in me." Peter laughed. "That was your reasoning for leaving me behind and never even bothering to visit or call."

She pursed her lips to cover up her disdain. "I made mistakes-"

"Abusing my sister wasn't a mistake." He ground his teeth together. "And abandoning me sure as hell wasn't one either."

Jennifer opened her mouth to speak again but was overshadowed by the booming voice of his brother as he returned from the back room. "Oi! We don't have a sign or nothing but no neglectful wannabe mothers allowed in the gym!"

Disgust filled her features instantly as she looked at the copper head of hair that shoved beside her. "And here I thought Jack showed some sense and got rid of you before dying."

"The old man was sensible enough." Patrick grinned. "He died with everything you ever wanted."

"Leave me and my son to our conversation, you worthless stray."

"I'm not your son." Peter straightened his back and stepped between the two of them. "Get out, Jennifer. My brother and I have a gym to run."

To his surprise, she didn't argue as she turned and made her way to the door, pausing to look back at him. "I was wrong, you know. Lena turned out to be just like your father, but you…" She smiled. "You're mine, Peter."

Patrick was quick to scoff and flip her off as she left the building. "What a bitch." He looked at Peter with a sigh. "You alright?"

"Yeah," he replied, shaking off the question. "I'm fine."

"What's it we always tell Lena?" Patrick asked. "It's okay not to be okay."

"That's different."

"No, it isn't."

"Lena has lived through some of the worst things in this world-"

Pat nodded along for a moment before interrupting. "So have you. Leukemia isn't a walk in the park, Pete. It's taken a toll on ya and I… We all want you to know it's okay if you're not fine."

Peter could feel the sting of tears building in his eyes as Jennifer's words burrowed into his mind and Patrick's genuine heartfelt concern swirled around him. All of it was warring. Anger and peace. Jennifer's calculus manipulation and Patrick's warm support. He didn't know what to feel, so he settled, exhaling a long breath. "I know. I'm… Sorry, I've been so short with you lately."

"Don't apologize," Pat insisted. "God knows I've been a real dick to you sometimes."

Laughing at the truth of his words, Peter set a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Thanks for putting up with me."

Patrick smiled. "That's what family does. Now stop worrying, big brother, and give me ten more solid punches."

For the first time in weeks, he felt the anger shift, turning into the passion he once held in abundance. With each new punch, Peter slowly accepted the fact that things had changed, he had changed, and that was okay. Sure, he didn't look or feel like himself, but with time that wouldn't last forever. He was angry and bitter, but he'd earned that right, and emotions like that didn't last long when smothered by the love and support of a family. And Peter had one hell of a family.

Sweat glistened on her skin as the warm morning light poured in through his window. Her red hair clung to her as she moved on top of him, face soft and twisted in pleasure. Jake couldn’t stop touching her, his palms taking hold of her thighs, squeezing the soft flesh and helping her bounce on his dick. His scalp burned at the pressure of her long fingers digging into his hair, pulling at him until their lips touched.

Kissing her was like kissing an open flame. It consumed him entirely, making his face burn with heat and desire and everything in between. Lena made him feel alive, a thing he’d never really thought he lacked until her. The sensations of her hips rising and falling atop him were hazy and undefined, he didn’t really feel it if he focused on it, but he hardly needed to feel anything when he could hear the lewd noises she made.

“Jake,” she breathed his name, desperate and wanton, a sound that sent shivers down his spine and made his hands grab her harder.

“Don’t stop,” he urged her, forcing her back down onto his aching cock. Beneath his palms, he could feel her shaking, and it only made him want to ruin her more.

A whine echoed from her throat as she threw her head back. “I can’t…”

“Come on, princess,” he replied, kissing her neck. “Just one more. Just give me one more.”

“Jake.”

His teeth wrapped around her throat, sucking an angry mark there as she dragged her nails down his back and arched into him. Lathering the red area with his tongue for a moment, he smiled against her. “Scream my name as loud as you need to. It’s just you and me.”

She laughed, a sound that, while not even remotely sexual, made his dick pulse and his control over his own orgasm waver. “God, your ego is unbelievable.”

“Stop acting like you don’t love it.” Jake moved a hand from her thigh to pull her chin down. “You like my ego.”

With a soft hum, she pulled her fingers up his neck, stroking his cheeks before she settled on cupping his jaw. Her hips slowed against his into long and languid strokes that made him shudder and her breath hitch. “I just like you.”

Flashes of that night walking to her apartment after the movie flooded his mind. Her eyes were darker as he looked into them, mirroring the night she’d spoken the words to him. “I don’t want to lose this.” The admission was one he wanted to say then… one he’d wanted to promise wasn’t even a possibility but just couldn’t bring himself to. Jake had a habit of fucking up every good thing he found, and this… Lena was something special. He couldn’t live with himself if he fucked this up.

Her soft, genuine smile made his heart stutter. “You won’t.” Goosebumps flared along his skin, and her smile turned smug. “Now, fuck me. If you think can handle it, pretty boy.”

With a smirk, his hand slid down her back, pushing her down even further on him, earning a sharp gasp and a shuddering breath. “I don’t think I’m the one that needs to worry about handling it.”

“I…” she gasped as he began to move his hips up into her. “I… Can… fuck-” Her eyes closed tightly, brows knitting together as he quickened the pace. “Do… this… all… day…”

His eyes glued to her chest as her breasts bounced with the quick movements. “That’s good 'cause I’ve got no intentions of stopping. Not when you look this good while I’m fucking you.”

Jake could feel her tighten around him. He could feel her body grow stiff as she reached her peak. “Jake!”

“JAKE!” Another voice practically shouted in his ear as pressure slammed atop his chest and shook him until his eyes shot open. Simone shook her head at him and sighed. “It’s a wonder you manage to show up to work at all.”

“Simone…” he shook his head, wiping the sleep from his eyes and quickly trying to rid himself of the disappointment of Lena’s absence. "What are you doing here?"

The blonde moved around his small apartment, picking clothes up off the ground and throwing away any stray garbage she found. "I thought I'd surprise you with breakfast, but your place is a disaster. Guess we'll have to just go out."

"What time is it?" He asked, vision still blurry.

"Eight-thirty."

That made him jump out of bed. "Fuck!"

Simone gave him a curious look as he began throwing clothes on. With a laugh, she asked, "Are you late for something?"

"I'm about to be," Jake offered freely.

Her face fell into disbelief. "What would you have to do this early? You never get up before ten."

He froze, throat going dry as he weighed his options. Lying wasn't a habit Jake ever really had when it came to Simone, but telling her the truth would practically be inviting a fight. Was there a safe middle ground to telling her that he'd been spending every morning at The Ring, boxing with Lena's brothers? Both brothers often spoke about running the business; that could be enough.

Moving once again, he shrugged. "I've been taking a few morning business classes."

"Business classes?" She questioned with narrow eyes. "When did this start?"

Practically two months ago. "Only a few weeks ago."

Simone didn't bother hiding her displeased look as she crossed her arms. "This isn't another of your hair-brained bar plans with Scott, is it?"

Jake knew what Simone thought about his desire to open his own place. She'd told him more times than he could count once she found out his plans with Scott. But, despite all the times he'd heard her call his dream stupid, it still stung. "No. That's…" He was going to tell her it was dead, done, over, but then he remembered the meeting he agreed to think about attending. Was it really over? "That's behind me."

"Good." She sighed. "Now, I suppose, what I don't understand is why you're wasting time with business classes."

"You're the one always telling me I need to apply myself more."

"I meant applying yourself at the job you already have, Jake. Not some… Random useless class."

With another nod, he shrugged on his jacket. "Yeah, well, I'll probably drop it. I'm not exactly good at all that business stuff."

If Simone had bothered to look at his bookshelf, she'd see through his lie. Multiple books on business sat on his shelves, another thing to remind him of his supposed forgotten venture with Scott. Instead, she just smiled. "So, breakfast?"

"Not today," he answered, heading toward the door. "I'm gonna give it one last shot. Maybe today I'll finally start getting it."

"Unlikely," she replied, following him out with a flat tone of mild annoyance and disappointment. "We both know you have a hard time paying attention while you're hung over."

Jake didn't bother telling her he wasn't hung over. Simone wouldn't have believed him anyway. On the sidewalk, she pulled him into a tight hug, an intimate gesture that once filled him with elation but now just felt… less. He smiled at her. “I won’t be late today, I promise.”

Simone pursed her lips. “We’ll see.”

He hurried to The Ring, where Dom stood outside smoking next to his bike. The drug dealer nodded to Jake, a simple gesture that was somehow filled with more respect than he’d expected. Patrick turned and sent him a glare the second he walked in the doors. “You’re late.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist Pat,” Jake replied sarcastically, shrugging his jacket off and heading toward the locker room with Patrick following close behind. “I…” Had an intense sex dream about your little sister. “I slept through my alarm.”

The redhead scoffed, standing in the doorway of the locker room, reaching up to tap the set of old gloves, his father's gloves, that hung over the door. “Well, sleepy, meet me in the ring if you think you can handle it.” If you think can handle it, pretty boy. Jake swallowed hard. “If not, we can reschedule for tomorrow.”

“I'm wide awake,” he replied hoarsely, pulling the gym tank top over his head and shoving everything else into the locker he’d been frequenting for the past two months. Jake sat on a small bench, quietly greeting the other gym goers that frequented the morning hours. Usually, he'd spend his time clearing his mind as he wrapped his hands, but today that proved difficult. He just couldn't shake that dream. Couldn't shake how real it felt or how badly he wanted it.

Loud purring at his feet pulled him from those thoughts as the hairless cat from the alley, the one he'd been seeing almost every morning, pounced on the bench beside him. The thin slits of its rich brown eyes widened as it stared up at him, gently kneading the side of his leg as it purred. Jake smiled, lifting a hand to scratch behind its large ears just where the little thing seemed to enjoy it. "Hey there," he greeted, chuckling as the cat sprained across his lap. "Can't sit around today, little guy. I've got to get in some practice before work."

The cat looked displeased by his answer and let out an angry hiss when he stood up, placing the cat back on the ground. "Relax, Hemingway. I'll let you sit on the couch with me while I smoke later."

Hemingway, a name Jake gave to the fickle creature because of the proud way it stood, as well as its rich brown eyes that reminded him of the old book that sat on Lena's bookshelf by the well-known author, rubbed against his leg and walked out through the locker room door as another person entered. Jake followed him out, watching as the cat stalked the gym, head high and chest puffed out as if he towered over everything and everyone. The attitude was another contributor to his famous namesake.

Patrick was waiting for him in the larger ring while Peter appeared to be occupying the small one with a sandbag in one of the corners. With an impatient wave, the larger man ushered him into the ring with a smile as he looked over Jake’s wraps. “You’re getting better at that. Which is good, considering I’m gonna beat your ass today.”

“You know, I’m starting to question your teaching methods,” Jake replied with a smirk.

A bellowing laugh echoed through the whole gym as Patrick laughed, tossing him a pair of gloves. “Get your gloves on, Jerky Jake, and say it to me again.”

He groaned at how quickly the stupid name Lena had given him spread through the gym. Everyone was calling him Jerky Jake, even people he’d never sparred with before. It was like the restaurant. No, Jake thought admiring the close community of people helping one another out with wrappings or sharing their music and equipment. It’s better than the restaurant.

People actually gave a shit here. They put their all into the sport and they were damn nice when newcomers joined without any clue what they were doing. Jake couldn’t count the number of times Patrick had stepped away and some stranger had offered advice on his footing or position. The Ring was like a giant family one that wasn’t riddled with toxic gossip and pay gaps and a manager like Howard. The Ring was Lena, her stubborn determination and her strategic mind, and her powerful body. It was alive and, just like she did, it made him feel alive too. Getting to punch people helped too.

Jake danced around the ring with Patrick for a while before the back door swung open and Lena’s soft voice sent a chill up his spine. He turned to look, earning a swift punch to the gut as Patrick exploited the distraction. “Ow,” Jake complained, glaring at his instructor.

“Never take your eyes off your opponent,” Patrick chastised with a smile. “Even for pretty girls.”

Rolling his eyes he turned back to watch Lena bend over and adorn Hemingway with attention. She scratched beneath his chin and whispered to him with a wide smile. Fucking beautiful. Too beautiful. Everyone greeted her as she walked deeper into the space, but she didn’t notice him until Patrick yelled for her to grab him water. When she turned back, water bottle in hand, their eyes locked and his dream came rushing back like a dam bursting. Fuck.

Her head tilted to the side as she smirked at him, smug and sexy and distracting. She tossed Patrick his bottle and stepped up on the side of the ring, resting her arms along the ropes. “I didn’t think you’d be up this early let alone in a ring with my brother.”

“I’m full of surprises,” he countered. “What are you doin’ here so early?”

“I decided to get in a good workout before work.”

Patrick chuckled. “Lord knows you’ve got some anger to burn off.”

Lena flipped him off, never once taking her eyes off him. “Well, how’s Jerky Jake doing?”

“He’s got some power in him, a bit slow and clumsy with his footing still.”

She clicked her tongue. “Sounds like you’ve got some work to do.”

“Maybe you can help me later.”

“Oh you’re not ready to go toe to toe with Leanin’ Lena,” Patrick replied laughing harder. “She’d kill you.”

Her wink sent his heart into pathetic stutters and he watched her leave, eyes instantly focusing on her hips and her thighs, remembering how they’d felt to hold in his dream. Patrick’s fist collided with his shoulder. “OW!”

“Focus!” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You can stare at my sister later.”

For a few minutes, Jake was able to focus and land a few solid hits on the more experienced boxer, but then Lena emerged from the locker room in a skin-tight crop top and shorts that made her thighs look even more amazing than they already did. As she worked out at a personal punching bag he found his eyes wandering to her, taking hits every time they did because Patrick refused to allow him even one minute of distraction. Eventually, they switched to some workout machine to help him work on his stamina while Lena moved into the ring with one of the other regulars.

It’d been a while since he saw her fight, and while this wasn’t nearly as brutal it was just as distracting. Her skin was glossed with sweat, her whole body was alive and flexed and her eyes were focused on her opponent. It was in moments like this that made Jake fully realize just how powerful and strong she physically was. A goddess of fire and passion encased in mortal flesh. Her emerald eyes flashed to his, those lips quirking up into a smile as she easily dodged a hit from her opponent. God fucking damn it.

After my workout was over and Jake had been released from Patrick’s teachings we met up at the front counter, both grabbing a bottle of water before we opened our mouths to speak. Whisky jumped in between us, nearly spilling my water all over the counter to hop into Jake’s arms. “Chill out Hemingway.”

"Hemingway?" I asked with a laugh, reaching over to scratch beneath his chin. "This is Whisky."

"Whisky?" Jake chuckled, lifting the cat to examine it. "Nah, Hemingway fits better."

I tilted my head and arched my brow. "Since when did you become the authority on stray cat names?"

"Since you think this clearly distinguished cat's name should be Whisky."

Rolling my eyes, I asked, "Why Hemingway?"

Jake shrugged, readjusting the cat. "It's a classic."

I pulled one of the cat treats out from behind the counter and smirked when Whisky leaped out of Jake's arms to try and snatch it from me. "He's too feisty to be some old author. He's clearly a Whisky."

We both watched the cat devour the small treat, purring between us. “You wanna walk with me to work today?”

“No biker escort?” Jake asked, looking out the front windows.

“No,” I replied. “Things have calmed down since the whole rock incident so hopefully that will be over soon.”

He nodded. “I’ll make sure to keep the walk entertaining for you, princess.”

I rolled my eyes and headed toward the stairs to the apartment. “See you in a minute Jerky Jake.”

Work was oddly normal. Simone and Olive kept to themselves, keeping whatever hushed whispers about how amazing my mother was quiet as I worked beside them. Jake’s gaze, however, seemed more heated than usual. He watched me as I waited on the tables with this look of pure lust smoldering in his blue eyes. His watching me had become a normal thing, but this… this made me blush on the spot.

After the shift had ended and everyone was out of the locker room I tried to return Jake’s jacket by quickly shoving it in his locker while he was standing there. With a chuckle, he pulled it out. “Seriously?”

I shoved it back in, pressing my chest further into his back. “Oh come on just let this one be easy!”

“Fine,” he replied. “Just this once because you asked so nicely.”

“Thank you!” I replied pressing a kiss to his neck. “See you tomorrow?”

He turned, looking disappointed and surprised that I wasn’t planning on heading to the bar. “Not going out tonight?”

I shrugged. “I kind of promised Ryker and the bikers that have been standing outside my house dinner. Raincheck though?”

“Raincheck,” he said quietly with a shake of his head. “See you tomorrow.”

The city lights cast a thin ray, a halo of bright colors, through my new window. I kept my distance, opting to keep the darker curtains drawn as Dom had told me, but the little I could see of the city outside made me want to forego caution. Leaning against the counter, I watched the lights silently, trying to keep the feelings of being trapped at bay. I wasn't trapped here. Here was home, one of the places I specifically kept to keep from ever feeling that way again.

My phone buzzing against the counter made me jump with a far too startled sound. Jake's now familiar number flashed along my screen as I flipped it open with a smile. "It's a bit late for friendly conversation." I over-exaggerated a gasp. "Is this a booty call?"

I could practically feel him roll his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, you know, just sitting around in lingerie thinking about you," I teased.

He chuckled. "That's quite a pretty picture. But seriously, what are you doing?"

"I just finished cleaning up after my hungry biker guests." I glanced back at the now clean dishes stacked away on my shelves. "You just get home?"

"No," he replied with a deep sigh. "I've been home for a while."

Making my way to my bedroom, I tossed the unfolded laundry into an open chair and plopped down onto my clean poofy blanket. "You sound so thrilled about it."

He scoffed. "I'd much rather be anywhere else right now."

My brows furrowed. "Not a fan of your apartment?"

"Not a fan of an empty bed," he replied with that signature flirtatious tone.

"Mmm," I hummed with a grin. "Well, I'm sure you know plenty of women that'd be willing to come entertain you."

"Yet I called the singular one that won't." Jake scoffed. "Kind of pathetic, right?"

Warmth blazed in my chest at the admission I knew held more depth than Jake would ever admit. "I think it's sweet."

He made a gagging noise. "Sweet is a word people use to describe Will."

"And you can't share a description word with Will?"

"Fuck no."

"Whatever you say, sweetie."

"I'll hang up on you."

"You called me," I reminded.

With another sigh, I could make out vague sounds on his end as he seemingly tried to settle into one spot. "I did."

There was a quiet pause between us as I enthusiastically asked, "You okay, tough guy?"

The sound of his laugh was almost bitter as he replied, "It's nothing I can't handle."

"What's up?"

"Lena-”

"Oh, come on, don't make me get annoying."

Jake contemplated his response. "I'm just going through a bit of a… Sensitive phase."

"Did something happen?" I asked, suddenly worried he'd been going through some kind of emotional turmoil and I'd not noticed.

"No… It's… It's more of a physical problem." He sighed, deep and almost pained. "If you catch my meaning."

"Ahh," I bit back a chuckle. "I really did a number on you, didn't I?"

"You did," he admitted. "What are you wearing?"

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously?"

"Oh, come on. You're the one making things so hard for me with those fuckin eyes and that pretty smile and…" He groaned. "That body."

Heat rose to my cheeks, a chill rushing through my body at the sound of his voice cracking. "Should I give you some privacy?"

He laughed, a sound that shouldn't have made me want more but did. "I was thinking you could lend me a hand, actually. You know, help a friend out?"

"Most friends don't help each other get off."

"Come on," he whispered. "Please?"

My eyes fluttered shut, and I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. Fuck… "Fine, but only because you sound so sweet when you ask nicely."

Jake ignored my response almost completely. "What are you wearing?"

"How do you want to play this?" I pondered, toying with my simple T-shirt. "You want the truth, or should I just bullshit you til you come?"

"The truth," he replied.

"It's nothing as scandalous as you're hoping for," I warned him.

"Everything's scandalous when it comes to you." Jake let out a long breath before he added, “Come on, paint me a picture, princess.”

I laid back, head resting in a cradle of pillows. “I’m wearing a T-shirt probably a few sizes too big and the ugliest underwear I own.”

Jake chuckled. “How ugly?”

“Beige with a hole on the left asscheek.” When he didn’t answer, I kept talking. “The T-shirt isn’t anything special either, just black with some abstract orange logo for a sports team, I think.”

“How low does it hang on you?”

“Mid-thigh,” I answered with a smirk. “Quinn cut a pretty deep V into the neckline, though. So now my tits fall out every time I bend over or lay down.” There was that groan I wanted. His breath sounded like static over the phone as he practically panted. “You alright, Sweetie?” I teased.

Jake moaned and answered with a breathless, absolutely wrecked voice, “Just keep talking.”

This was too much fun. “And what would you like me to talk about, Jake?”

“Anything.”

“Taxes?” I asked, voice silky and sultry. “Or I could talk about how to make one of Scott's favorite dishes.”

He sighed. “Do you have to be so annoying about this?”

Giggling I nodded to myself. “Absolutely.”

“God,” he groaned again, the faint sound of him desperately working his, assumingly, aching cock echoed through the phone, sending a wave of heated pleasure down my spine.

“You sound pretty,” I whispered.

“Come over then,” he taunted, sounding far more wrecked than I think he thought he would.

With a hum, I actually considered it. I wanted nothing more than to grab my coat and take a cab to his apartment so he could rip my stupid shirt in half and fuck me. Eventually, I sighed. “Raincheck?”

Jake sounded far more frustrated than he should have as he replied, “You’re worse than Sasha.”

“Goodnight, Jake,” I said with a smirk. “Try not to dream of me too much.”

“Wait!” Click.

He was going to be pissed about that tomorrow.

As expected Jake was even more moody than usual when I arrived at work. It was a more lighthearted kind of moody, with little looks and discrete middle fingers throughout family meal, but it was worth it when I restocked the bar and asked, “So, how’d it feel jerking off to the thought of my voice?”

He stumbled over his words as he spoke to the guest in front of him, turned to grab a bottle of whatever they’d ordered, and whispered, “Why don’t you come over and watch? Find out for yourself just how it was.”

The night descended into Hell from there when my mother and Olive came into the restaurant and demanded a table. Howard, the loyal lapdog, bumped the guests at table ten and found them a seat. Lucky for me I was able to hide in the kitchen, but even then my mother found ways to let me know she wasn’t going anywhere. Like sending back food, five times.

Heather set the plate down with a sigh. "I've got a refire on ten."

"Again?" Scott tossed his utensils down and examined the dish with curious eyes. "What'd she say was wrong with it?"

"Nothing," Heather replied tentatively. "She just said she wanted it redone."

I threw down my own cooking tools and grabbed the plate. "Fuck this."

The kitchen door swung open as I charged through, holding the plate of food she'd sent back. My mother sat at table ten with a smile as she lazily swirled the wine in her glass, watching me approach. I didn’t care about the other guests or about anything but finally teaching her a lesson as I threw the plate onto the table. “Eat it or fucking starve.”

“That’s hardly the way an employee should talk to a customer.”

“It’s a good thing you’re not just a customer then, isn’t it?”

Mother smiled wider as Howard approached. “Oh, how far the quality of this establishment has fallen.”

His hands came to grasp my shoulders. “My apologies, Ms. Glover. Lena ple-”

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” I shook his hands off, turning to glare at him as I walked away.

Jake nodded to me from the bar, a smile on his face as he proudly regarded my actions. For a moment, the anger burned softer, more manageable as everyone else, Nicky, Sasha and Ari, and Heather, quietly cheered me on as I slipped back into the kitchen. Service went well after that. No more plates being sent back or requests for eight different wines to taste, just normal everyday service. While it felt nice being able to breathe again, I knew it wasn’t over.

The locker room was rowdy as everyone complained about my mother's behavior, each in their own way trying to show me it didn’t matter to them that they wouldn’t hold it against me. Jake was the only one that was quiet as he stood next to his locker and waited for me. Sasha eyed the two of us. “Do I need to stay as well? Or are you two going to keep your filthy hands to yourselves?”

He smirked at the Russian. “Hard to tell.”

“Go ahead, Sasha,” I replied with a laugh. “I’m not really in a handsy mood tonight.”

With narrow eyes, he pointed at both of us. “I’m watching you two.”

Once he was gone, Jake shook his head. “He’s more determined than I expected.”

“Oh?” I teased. “Was him literally butting into our little makeout session not enough proof for you?”

“He’s always like that.”

“Fair point.”

Once I was fully dressed to go, he nodded to the stairs. “You hanging out for a bit, or are we sneaking out the back?”

With a deep sigh, I started for the stairs. “Sadly, I think I’ll have to stay so my mother will actually leave everyone else alone.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied. “I’ll make your drink extra strong.”

“My hero,” I replied with a smile.

As expected, my mother sat at the bar waiting for me with a blank expression. Once I took the seat next to her, it was quiet, horrifyingly so. Jake kept his promise and slid me my usual drink with an extra shot, and as I drank, my mother sighed. "This isn't you.”

"What would you know about me?" I asked coldly.

“I raised you to be better than some… drunk,” she replied. "And above that, I am your mother."

I chuckled. "That means less than you think it does, and it certainly doesn't mean you know me."

She sighed. "How many times do we have to do this, Lena?"

"What was the book I always read when we spent our summers in Cape Cod?" I asked. "What's my favorite book?"

Mother's face drained of the thin mask, shifting into annoyance at my question, and further beneath that, hidden so deep inside her that even she wouldn't see it was a hint of realization. The reality that she was wrong. "This is ridiculous."

"You think you know me? Then answer me," I demanded. "What book did I read over and over and over again until the pages started falling out?" My mother rolled her eyes. "Too hard? I'll ask something easier then. What's my favorite color?"

"This hardly proves any-"

"When's my birthday?" I continued. She didn't answer, couldn't answer. "You can't answer a single question about me, and yet you have the fucking audacity to stand here and pretend that you know me at all." I shook my head and scoffed. "You're not my mother."

Clapping echoed from the front door as Ozzy entered. “I couldn’t have said it better myself, darling.”

“Oswald,” Mother sneered, turning to look at him as he made his way to my side. “How lovely to see you.”

“Jen. It’s always so unfortunate when we cross paths.”

Her smile was tense. “I see you haven’t lost your juvenile sense of humor.”

"Never. Now, my daughter and I will be going," Ozzy replied, gently pulling me away from my mother.

"She is my daughter Oswald." Her hand snapped out and took hold of my wrist. "I am the one that birthed her and gave her every advantage!"

Ozzy placed himself between us, staring my mother down with rage swimming in his eyes. "You were the one that almost let that monster kill her. Hell, you almost killed her yourself a few times. You will never be anything more than an old, sad, washed-up ballerina Jen."

"How dare-"

"Jack might not be here to fulfill his promise, but I sure as hell am. Now, take your hands off my daughter and fuck off."

They stared each other down for a long moment before she finally loosened her grip on me. When my arm was free, her eyes met mine. "When you finally come to your senses, you know where to find me."

I shook my head, forcing the hurt down beneath my anger. "I don't think that's something I'm capable of. After all, I am my father's daughter."

Ozzy wrapped an arm around my shoulder, carefully leading me away toward the door. He raised his hand, waving back at the crowd of my coworkers. "Goodbye, Jen. We look forward to reading your name in the obituary!"

We walked in the cool city air, arm in arm, for a long time before I spoke. “Thanks for coming.”

“I would never leave you to suffer that woman alone,” Oz replied, bumping my shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Surprisingly, yeah, I am.” I sighed. “It felt kind of good to confront her.”

“I’m proud of you,” he said. “Just like your father would be.”

The thought was one that brought me some comfort, that my dad would have stood over my shoulder and encouraged me to lay into her deeper. Maybe he was… “How did he ever deal with her?”

Ozzy’s wide smile changed then, suddenly sad and in pain. “She wasn’t always a shrew, you know. When your dad brought her into the bar for the first time, she was actually quite lovely.”

“She was?”

“Of course. How’d you think we ended up with you two?”

“What changed?”

He considered the question before he shook his head. “She got tired of keeping up the act. By that time, the damage had been done.”

I held onto him tighter. “It all worked out in the end. I mean, as well as it could have.”

“That it did, my girl,” Ozzy said softly. “That it did.”

Back at the bar and significantly more drunk the group unwound from the long night, and everyone slowly began to shed the weight of my mother’s visit. Everyone but Peter. He drank his water, staring off into empty space until Patrick or I would grab his attention again, but I knew the weight of whatever words she’d managed to have with him carried. He left early, heading upstairs with the simple excuse of being tired. I was worried about him, after everything he had going on my mother should have been the least of it.

Quinn and Prue were determined to help me unwind with drinks and an abundance of shitty jokes and games. It helped, in a way only they could pull off. The night was slowly turning around as I hopped in to help get drinks to the tables and my friends carried on having fun together. I leaned over a table, grabbing the now empty glasses, when an unfamiliar body slid behind me. “How’s it goin, baby girl?”

The nickname made my blood run cold. It wasn’t him. I told myself over and over again that it wasn’t Tony, but there was always that lingering doubt that plagued me until I turned around. The rich asshole that had dined at the restaurant and that had tried to force himself on me in Tony’s penthouse stood too close to me, smiling down at me with leering eyes. I shook my head and tried to shove past him. “Fuck off.”

His hand grabbed my arm. “Not this time. I want that kiss you robbed me of.”

“Let go.” My voice carried, and in my peripheral, I saw Dom rise to his feet.

With a frustrated sigh, the man pulled something from his pocket. A metallic sound echoed in my ears as I pulled on my arm, stilling only when the familiar chill of steel on my neck made me freeze. "I said, not this time bitch."

I had no idea what came over me as I tore my arm from his grasp and moved quickly, the blade just barely cutting the side of my neck as he reached trying to regain his hold on me. As I stumbled to the floor Dom's solid body moved, punching the man in the face once. Twice.

Everything around me slowed as I pressed my fingers to the blood that now trailed down my neck. The sting of the cut had faded, but memories of the all too familiar sensation replayed in my mind longer as I watched Dom’s fists beat down on the face of my attacker. The sound of bones breaking brought a wave of nausea to my gut, and for a moment, reality seemed to shift. For a moment, I wasn’t on the floor of Ozzy’s but back in the penthouse, watching Tony beat down anyone foolish enough to question him.

My ears started to ring, filling with static. I knew, realistically, that only a minute or two had passed, but it felt longer. My eyes focused on the blood that now flew off Dom’s fists as I brought my hands up to cover my ears, attempting to drown out the voice Dom never used anymore… The voice that reminded me too much of Tony. Jake pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered and dropped down to the ground beside me so quickly that I couldn’t control the way I flinched.

His mouth moved with words I couldn’t hear as his eyes fixed on my neck, on the blood that now soaked into my top. He quickly reached up and grabbed a rag from the table and pressed it to the cut, only then turning his eyes to the bloody sight in front of us. The static began to fade from my ears, slowly bringing the noise back. Ozzy’s voice bellowed from behind the bar. “Dominic! That’s enough!”

Patrick shoved through the crowd, followed by a few of the bikers. “Oi! Come on, Dom. Not here, man.”

Dom couldn’t hear them, or he simply chose not to, as his fists kept bearing down through multiple hands, trying to pull him back. With a shaking voice, I called out, weak and half-spoken, “Dom…” His movements stopped, and his head turned dark… violent consumed eyes met mine. The hardened mask he wore, the mask of some brutal drug dealer, fell as he saw how scared I was… how scared I was of him. “Please.”

He stood then, towering over me with shaking, bloody hands. Jake shifted, putting himself between me and the drug dealer, an action I didn't think even he realized he'd done. Dom regarded him with a far-off look before he turned, brushing past Patrick and Ozzy and heading toward the door. The bikes followed, two of them picking up the now unconscious asshole and carrying him out. Ozzy sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry for the mess. The bars closing now."

"You heard the man!" Patrick reinforced. "Get the fuck out!"

Ozzy turned and carefully reached toward Jake and me. “Keep pressure on the cut, son. Pat and I will get her up.”

Patrick appeared on the opposite side of me, making himself look as small as he could as he reached toward me with a grin. “Just breathe. We’ve got ya, little sister.”

With the help of the two older men, Jake was able to keep a steady hold on the rag pressed to my neck as they helped me to my feet and led me to the back office in Ozzy’s comfortable chair. Jake knelt in front of me, eyes glued to the side of my neck where the blood had begun soaking through the rag. Ozzy’s large hand settled on his shoulder, and with the kind smile he was known for, he said, “Breathe, lad.”

“Ya did good,” Patrick complimented. “Any other idiot woulda freaked out.”

Ozzy placed a hand over Jake’s. “I’ve gotta see how deep the cut is.” Without a word, Jake slowly let go, but his eyes never left me as Ozzy pulled the rag back and breathed out a sigh of relief. “It’s just a little knick. Nothin' a bit of gauze and a bandage won’t fix.”

Patrick held his fingers to my pulse point and held my hand. “She seems to have calmed down a bit. Can ya hear me, sis?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I can hear you.”

“That’s good,” Ozzy replied, cupping my cheek. “How's the pain?”

“It doesn’t hurt.” Not compared to the other one.

Sensing the unspoken words, Patrick sighed. “I’ll go get Pete. He’ll wanna know what’s goin' on.”

“Keep him as calm as you can.”

After Patrick was gone, Jake settled into the spot he vacated, hands trembling at his sides as he scanned the new area, unsure of where to look or what to do. I carefully brushed my fingers against his and smiled up at him. “You don’t have to stay. Ozzy’s good at patching me up.”

He considered my words for a minute, finally focusing on my eyes before he shook his head. “I’ll stay. Somebody’s gotta hold your hand.”

As his fingers wrapped around mine, I laughed, soft and weak and entirely too vulnerable. “I appreciate it, tough guy.”

Ozzy quietly bandaged the cut on my neck, though I caught his smirking glances at Jake as he held my hand and made small talk. It was only once Peter came rushing into the bar that Jake said goodnight and excused himself to make way for my very worried older brother. It took some convincing, but eventually, my little family had calmed down. Ozzy closed the bar down while Prue and Quinn fussed over me for a while before they, too, filtered out. Patrick and Peter led me out of the alleyway, pausing tensely as they came face to face with Dom.

They both waited for me to tell them how to react. “You two head upstairs.”

“You sure?” Peter asked, glancing back at me.

I nodded. “I’ll be right up.”

We both stood, waiting until my brothers were out of earshot before Dom cleared his throat and sighed. “I ain’t gonna apologize for beatin' the fucker. But I’m sorry about making you relive that shit. I… I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“It… It’s okay.” I shrugged. “It wasn’t as bad this time.”

Dom knew what I was referring to, an old incident in a drug den I used to frequent. I could hardly look at him after that, and it took months to get back to where we were. “I don’t ever want you to be scared of me again.” I could see tears building in his eyes. “I would never hurt you, Lena.”

I stepped forward, carefully reaching out to grab his hands. “I know. Will you stay tonight? Just in case?”

“Of course,” he replied, slowly pulling me into a hug.

Upstairs my brothers had gotten everything ready for a sleepover in my room. Dom settled on the couch, insisting on being in the main area by the door while my brothers and I cuddled together in my bed. Any other instance of an attack like that would have shaken me to my core… would have made it impossible for me to even talk for days after. Tonight had been scary, too familiar, but ultimately different. I wasn’t afraid like I had been in the past. I wasn’t panicked and flighty. I knew I was safe. And with that knowledge nestled in my mind, I easily drifted off to sleep.

Maybe I was getting better. And maybe I liked the idea of no longer living my life in fear.

33 notes · View notes

marblemoonstones · 1 year ago

Text

we were in screaming color 🩵

main masterlist

summary: you didn’t want to go back to your hometown, not when your frustrating parents were there. you left that life behind. but who knew that rebuilding your old elementary school would also bring a new romance?

warnings: f reader, curse words, angst, frustrating/toxic parents, car accident (nothing graphic)

word count: ~ 6.7k (longest fic written so far!! 🥳)

a/n: I’m super excited to start this series :) 💗 (song lyrics won’t start until later into the fic bc I had to add background details. most of the lyrics will be used)

song: out of the woods

album: 1989 (taylor’s version)

trope: small hometown romance

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The year was 1989…

“Mom, dad, I have something to tell you,” I say, trying not to pace anxiously.

“Sweetie, is something wrong?” Mom asks, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

Dad also looks nervous, as I never usually act in this manner. They’re both sitting on our worn cream couch, slightly sagging from overuse.

“Well…you know how I wanted to go pursue my architecture degree in Seoul?” I ask, remembering their horrified reactions to me having a desire to move out of our small hometown of Tonjung.

“Yes, I remember. And I also remember us not wanting you to leave,” Dad says, his face solemn and sure.

That’s funny. They both think I’m staying.

“I know, but I got into the University of Seoul School of Architecture,” I say, hoping that they’ll be at least a little proud. But knowing deep in my heart that they won’t care.

“Good for you honey, but I thought you were going to stay here and run the family business. You’re the only child we have, y/n. You have to carry on the legacy,” Mom says firmly.

“That’s what you want,” I sigh, already weary of the conversation, “But I want to go and live my dream.” Every time that I bring architecture up they always dismiss it. I don’t know whether or not it’s because they don’t believe in me or because they want me to follow their perfect vision.

“You and your dreams! Don’t you care about your family at all? Our dream is to be grandparents! Why don’t you settle down here and find a nice boy and-“

“Mom, dad, enough!” I hiss, my anger finally boiling over, “I don’t want to fucking live in your dream, I have a dream of my own. And I’ll be damned if I let this opportunity go to waste. I already paid for everything and set it up, so I just wanted to see if you were going to support me. But I guess not.”

My parents are now in shock, eyes wide and mouths slightly agape. But I don’t care.

“Goodbye.”

And with that, I leave, grabbing my suitcases that I had hidden and waiting by the door. The tears prickle at the edge of my eyes.

“Honey!”

“Wait!”

They shout, but I ignore them. Opening the door, I run straight into a man. Oh, is this another poor soul that they’re trying to set me up with? Too bad for him.

I shove my shit into the car and start it. Turning out of the driveway, I’m off to my new life.

Thirteen years later

“Ms. Choi! We need you to sign this, approving the floor plan for the new hospital. We added all the details you requested and-“

(I don’t know anything about architecture, so I’m trying to not add details. I’m sorry if I’m inaccurate with anything!)

I sign it quickly and then walk to the meeting room. My assistant has a ‘new project’ that I’ll ‘definitely want to be a part of!’ That means one of two things: either it’s a horrible project and they’re trying to hype it up so I’ll do it, or it’s actually a good investment and I’ll be pleasantly surprised.

I tend to have a ‘pessimistic’ point of view, but that’s only because I have high standards. After graduating top of my class, I started a job at one of the top architect corporations, Park Designs. Slowly climbing the ranks, I am now one of the top architects at Park. And it only took me five years. Some of my classmates are still low class designers at middle-class businesses. Not to sound cocky of course, but I had to work my ass off in college and during my internships. While my classmates were out partying and drinking, I was working on my designs and making sure they was the best.

Stepping into the meeting room, I’m not surprised to see my assistant, Jungwoon, but I am surprised to see my boss Seonming. Seonming usually doesn’t come to these meetings, as she’s usually busy helping the CEO, Park Ji-young.

“Hello y/n, it’s good to see you,” Seonming says shaking my hand. I’ve always admired Seonming, partly because she’s an amazing architect and partly because she’s a high ranking woman in a usually male dominated field.

“Good morning Seonming, it’s good to see you too,” I say, meaning every word.

I take a seat in the plush chairs, glad to get the nice meeting room.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m in here. As you know, I don’t usually comes when there’s a new project for you,” Seonming starts, “But this project is especially personal, and I wanted to pitch it to you.”

Personal? What does she mean by that?

Jungwoon hands me the files before bowing and leaving the room.

“Before you look at it, please know that I specifically selected you for this project because I know that you like designing for the greater good. You have a good heart, y/n, and that’s why I chose you for this. Not for any other reason,” Seonming says, making me wonder what’s so special about this project.

I take a deep breath and open the files. Instantly, I see the location. Tonjung, South Korea. Oh no, oh no no no.

“Now, before you get all mad, please understand-“

“Seonming. You know why I can’t do this. I left that life behind for a reason,” I say, irritation rising in me. Seonming of all people knows why I can’t go back! I haven’t seen my parents in years, only talking to them at the holidays or our respective birthdays. Our relationship is formal at best.

“I know y/n, but please consider it. You haven’t even looked at the project yet,” Seonming says implored.

I know she’s right, as she always is, so I scan the summary. Building a new school? Did something happen to my elementary school?

“What happened to Tonjung Elementary?” I ask, thinking about the cozy and warm school I went to.

“There was an earthquake,” Seonming explains, “And it all but destroyed the current school. They need an architect who can rebuild the school, and I recommended you. Not because you used to live there, but because I knew you’d be able to do it justice.”

Damn. Seonming is really good at making someone feel guilty. She knows I’m a sucker for humanitarian projects, whether it be building a new hospital or, in this case, a new school.

Why didn’t I know that the earthquake happened? Why didn’t my parents tell me? I’m assuming it’s because they think I don’t care, but just because I left doesn’t mean I don’t have an attachment to the town I grew up in.

I sigh, already knowing my answer.

“Okay…I guess for Tonjung Elementary…” I grumble, trying to ignore the happy look on Seonming’s face.

“Great! You’ll have to stay there for a while, of course, but the project doesn’t start for another two weeks. That should give you enough time!” Seonming is being surprisingly brief with details. Usually she gives me a full run down and explains every last aspect.

“Okay…how long will this last?” I ask, suspicious.

“Oh, yeah, it’s supposed to last two to three years. Anyways, I’ll send the rest of the information soon! Have a good day y/n!” Seonming leaves in a rush, clearly trying to avoid me so I can’t back out.

Two to three years? In my hometown? With my parents? Oh boy. What did I just agree to?

Two weeks fly by and before I know it I’m leaving with a lot of my stuff. Even though I may come back to the city once in a while, it won’t be often because the drive from Seoul to Tonjung is a good seven hours.

“Goodbye y/n! Have safe travels and try to have a little fun,” Jungwoon says. He’s handling my office while I’m gone. I trust him, and I know he’ll do a good job.

“Thanks, Jungwoon. And don’t forget to text me if there are any problems!” I call, waving as I drive off.

I put on music and try to enjoy the long drive. It is beautiful by the coast, and if I ignore the awkwardness with my parents, then going back home isn’t too bad.

I’m just glad that I’m staying at an Air BnB because otherwise I’d have to endure my parents’ constant nagging about how I left them, how I need to settle down, and all that bullshit. Besides, I’m only thirty-two. I have plenty of time to find a partner. I want to keep working towards my goal, becoming a CEO (like Park Ji-young) of my own architectural business.

The drive passes by quickly, and soon the tall skyscrapers of Seoul turn into quaint houses with chipping paint.

I pull into the Air BnB and get out of my car. Breathing in the salty air, I feel the crisp breeze on my skin. It’s June and the weather is a bit hot at times so the breeze is a nice reprieve. I start yo unload my stuff and place it in the bedroom. This is a nice Air BnB because it has all the essentials (washer, dryer, dishwasher, etc.) for one person.

I go to the bathroom and freshen up. After changing my clothes, I decide to rip the bandaid off and go to my parents since it’s only about 3 in the afternoon.

Tonjung is small enough to walk place to place, and my parents’ house is only a couple blocks over from the Air BnB.

I steady myself before knocking on the door. The aqua paint that used to be cheerful and welcoming now feels cheap and tacky.

The door opens, and my dad’s face appears. He opens the door slightly wider for me to come in, but I can tell he’s not that happy to see me.

“Hi honey, come on in. Your mom’s in the living room.” He shuts the door behind me and I feel as though I’m heading straight to my doom.

I cautiously step into the room and see my mom.

“Hi mom…it’s good to see you again,” I say, tentative of how this visit will go.

She turns her head.

“Hi sweetie. How are you?” It’s turning into another one of our phone calls. Only this time I can’t make an excuse and hang up.

“I’m fine. It’s good to be back.” I hesitate on what to say next, trying to break the awkwardness that’s lingering in the air like stale perfume.

“Good to have you back. Maybe this time you’ll stay,” mom says, and I stiffen.

“You know I had to go. And look at me now, I’ve achieved so much.” I always try my hardest to make my parents proud, even if they don’t know it.

“Yes honey, you have. So why don’t you come back here for good? You can do your building business or whatever it is you do from here.”

Mom never understands. It’s not just a ‘building business,’ it’s my life. I have big goals, and they’re only going to happen if I keep pursuing them.

“Mom, you know I can’t move back here. I have to continue in Seoul because that’s where there are better opportunities for me,” I try to explain. Before anyone can say anything else, I hear a knock on the door.

“Oh, that must be Namjoon,” my dad says, going to open the door.

Namjoon? Kim Namjoon?

“Hey Namjoon! Yes yes, come on in. She’s right here.” Dad leads the handsome man over to me.

“Hey, y/n! Long time no see.”

Kim Namjoon sure has grown into those long legs and dimples. His eyes have always been beautifully sculpted, but they’re even more gorgeous now. I notice that he’s got some serious muscles in him now too. Seems he’s discovered working out.

“Hey Namjoon. Haven’t seen you in a while,” I say, trying (and failing) not to seem awkward.

“Namjoon here has grown up, hasn’t he y/n? And he even stayed in town,” Mom says pointedly.

I roll my eyes. So small town Namjoon stayed in the small town. Mom and dad probably wish he was their child.

“Okay, mom. I get it. Now, not to break up whatever this-“ I gesture to mom and I- “is, why did you call Namjoon here?”

“Oh! It’s because I’m the principal of Tonjung Elementary. We’ll be working together on the rebuilding a lot,” Namjoon explains.

“Oh that’s fun…” I trail off, not sure what else to say. Yay? Spending two to three years working with someone I haven’t seen in ages?

“Yes it is! Now, why don’t you two mosey on down to the beach and get to know each other after such a long time. I’m sure there’s much to catch up on. And your father and I have to go to the store.” Mom practically forces us out, and before I know it Namjoon and I are standing outside the front door. So much for subtleness. Mom just wants me to find a boyfriend.

“That was quick,” I mumble, “Even for them.” Usually our visits on the phone last at least fifteen minutes, but this one breaks the record with being about five.

Namjoon chuckles. I blush, not knowing that he heard me.

“Well, it seems that we are supposed to go to the beach. Shall we?” Polite as ever, Namjoon is.

“Sure. We shall.”

Traipsing down we make our way to the beach and I immediately take off of my shoes to feel the sand. I find a good spot and sit down and stare at the ocean. The crashing waves do little to smooth my mind.

“So…” Namjoon starts, sitting down next to me. “You escaped. And you’re very successful now. I’ve seen you in magazines and such.”

Magazines? My name is almost never mentioned but I suppose there were a couple pieces written about my various projects.

“Heh, yeah. I’m lucky to be where I am today,” I affirm as I start drawing hearts in the sand.

“Yeah…the last time I saw you you weren’t doing the best so I’m glad you made it.” Namjoon has a look in his eyes I don’t recognize. Pity? Sympathy?

“Wait when was the last time I saw you?” I don’t remember seeing him since high school graduation.

“When you were leaving. For college. After,” Namjoon winces, “The fight with your parents.”

Wait how did he see me then? Unless-

“YOU were the man outside the door! I thought it was another random man my parents were trying to set me up with!” I exclaim.

Namjoon smiles sheepishly.

“Well…that was me. And I wasn’t just there for fun…”

“Ohhh so you were another poor suitor sent by my parents,” I side eye him for a second before we both burst into laughter.

“Ah yes, that’s me. A ‘suitor’ for you! Perhaps you should like to date me madam?” Namjoon says in an accent.

As I laugh, I think, Was he always this funny? I guess he’s more goofy now than in high school.

“Nah, I’m not ready to date anyone. I have to start my own architectural corporation first,” I say wistfully. Someday.

“Oh yeah, I bet you’ll be able to do that. You always were so driven, even in high school,” Namjoon says, reminiscing.

“Ugh, don’t remind me! I remember when I missed senior homecoming because I had to study.”

I wanted to go, but I had a huge AP chem test the next day that I ‘couldn’t afford to fail.’ So, while my other classmates were dancing to ‘Party Rock’ I was at home poring over my textbooks. It paid off, I suppose, because I aced the test, but it wasn’t worth missing homecoming.

“Those dances weren’t that fun anyways,” Namjoon says, breaking my train of thought.

“Oh! Yes I guess they weren’t. I wonder how everyone’s doing nowadays. I haven’t spoken to any of them in ages,” I mused. I’m only friends with some of them on social media, and even then I don’t check it frequently enough to know what’s happening in their lives.

“Remember Cho Eun Jung? Well, now she’s a famous fashion designer. Heard her designs were featured in Paris Fashion Week or something. And little Kim Ha-Joon? He has a family of his own now. They moved to America a while ago,” Namjoon notes, nose crinkling as he thinks.

“Wow. Seems as if everyone’s out there living their life and I’m stuck in Seoul, single and still pursuing my dream career,” I say, melancholy sinking in. The truth is, what have I done with my life? Sure, I’m a successful architect but I’m not famous and I don’t have a family. I’m not even close with the family that I do have.

“Hey, don’t think of yourself that way. You’re still successful, I mean only five years and now you’re a top architect at one of the top corporations. I’d say that’s impressive,” Namjoon says, making me laugh.

“Thanks, Namjoon. And look at you, principal on Tonjung Elementary. That’s impressive. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to Mr. Han?” Mr. Han was our principal when Namjoon and I went to Tonjung.

“I don’t mind at all, and he retired. I think he’s living around here somewhere with his wife,” replies Namjoon. I’m glad that Mr. Han retired, he deserves it. That man was an excellent principal.

“Oh, that’s good. I’m happy for him. I’m also happy for you, and I’m happy that we can catch up. I mean, we are going to be working together for a couple years,” I say sheepishly.

“That’s true. I’m glad that it’s you who I’m working with,” Namjoon says, flashing me a smile, his dimples prominent.

I smile back.

“Me too.”

(I won’t be adding many details about the new school design because I am not an architect and don’t want to mess up anything about the process :))

The months pass by in a whirlwind with planning and sketching the new school. Namjoon and I try to make it similar to the old one, but there are a few modern adjustments that we add.

Currently, all of the students are having to go to school in a neighboring town. Namjoon and I work as quickly as we can so that they can come back and attend school here.

September arrives and with it cooler weather. The leaves are starting to turn their gorgeous shades and I start wearing my knit sweaters.

One day I’m heading over to Namjoon’s house because I forgot my laptop charger. I knock on his cerulean door and he answers, smiling that cute grin of his.

“Hey y/n! Come on in. I’m assuming you’re here for your laptop charger?”

I step inside, replying “Yes! I can’t believe I left it here. I’m so forgetful sometimes.”

I grab it off of the coffee table, and am about to leave when Namjoon clears his throat.

“Would…you like to stay for a bit? I remember you wanting to watch that new k-drama and it just came out. You don’t have to though if you don’t want to! Sorry, I just thought maybe-“

“Namjoon,” I interrupt, smiling internally at his shyness, “It’s fine. I’d love to stay for a while. I’m glad that you remember when the k-drama was coming out because I sure didn’t!”

After popping popcorn (our second bag as Namjoon burnt the first batch) and grabbing sodas we settle down to watch ‘Business Proposal’ (I know it didn’t come out this early but I love this k-drama okay? 😭).

We binged the whole season that afternoon. After the last episode my stomach hurt from all the popcorn and soda but my heart was full.

“The last scene was so pretty! Those cherry blossoms…” I sigh as I lean back into the couch, “I can only dream to have such a perfect proposal someday.”

“I know the right person will come along y/n. Just wait and see,” Namjoon says with such certainty that I look at him. How does he know that I’ll find someone?

“Yeah, I guess so,” I reply, letting my head drop to the couch. If I close my eyes, I can just imagine that this little moment was perfect. Namjoon and I in a perfect bubble. No outsiders or prying parents to belittle me.

‎♪ looking at it now

it all seems so simple ‎♪

I hear the sound of a flash and open my eyes to see Namjoon holding a Polaroid camera.

“Hey! Did you just take a picture of me?” I gasp at him as he grins sheepishly.

“Maybe?”

“Why?” I ask him, trying to grab the camera out of his hand.

“Because! Look,” Namjoon says, showing me the picture.

I look so pensive, eyes closed to the world. The sun beams down through the window and hits my face perfectly like I’m in a movie. My hair is spread on the couch in a surprisingly beautiful way.

‎♪ we were lying on your couch

I remember ‎♪

“Wow, I didn’t know you had such a touch for photography Namjoon!” I praise, seeing the man blush.

“Oh, it’s not that hard when I have a great subject to photograph.” Namjoon waves off the compliment.

“Can I keep the picture?” I ask, grinning excitedly when he drops it into my hands, “Thanks!”

Namjoon holds the camera out in front of both of us. “Let’s take a selfie together, y/n.”

“Okay!” I say, getting close and throwing up a peace sign. Flash!

‎♪ you took a Polaroid of us

then discovered ‎♪

The picture comes out beautifully, the sun hitting the two of us just right and our beaming faces genuine.

“Aww, we look so cute Namjoon. Why don’t you keep this picture because you let me keep the first one. A memory when we watched Business Proposal!” I cheer, feeling happy for the first time in a while.

When was the last time I let myself just be with someone? No work, no worrying about parents or expectations. Just me and them.

‎♪ the rest of the world was black and white

but we were in screaming color ‎♪

I blink, surprised with my sudden desire to cry. Was my life so monotone that simple moments like these made me happy? Did…Namjoon make me happy? No, it was just the fun of hanging out with someone. That’s why, I’m riding the high of having a true friendship. No other reason.

‎♪ and I remember thinking

are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

It’s December and the air is cooler as winter sneaks in. I’m over at his house about a week until Christmas, complaining about my parents (yet again).

“They want me to go to their annual Christmas party! Which is fine, because, like, my family will be there, but that means a night of suffering as they compare me to my cousins. Half of my cousins are married, some have children, and the others at least live close by. I don’t check any of those boxes so they’ll just use the night to make me feel guilty!” I rant while sitting on Namjoon’s couch.

‎♪ looking at it now

last this december ‎♪

Namjoon winces.

“I’m sorry…do your parents even know how they make you feel?”

“But it’s not just my family! You know my parents, they invite the whole damn town!” I plow on, then stop after realizing Namjoon said something, “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said that I’m sorry and asked if your parents know how bad they make you feel. It’s obvious they don’t, but have you tried talking to them about it?” Namjoon repeats.

“Oh, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault they’re this way. And yeah, I have tried to talk to them. Since high school, actually, when I told them I wanted to pursue being an architect. But they turned it down immediately! They didn’t even listen to me!” I put my head into my hands.

Namjoon puts his arm around me in a half hug.

“I wish there was a way for me to help you, y/n. If it makes you feel any better, I can come to the party with you. Your parents did invite me.”

Of course they did. They want me to find someone so desperately that they probably invited all of the eligible bachelors in Tonjung.

I lean into Namjoon’s hug, trying to absorb some of his calming aura.

‎♪ we were built to fall apart

then fall back together ‎♪

The day of the dreaded party arrives and I shove myself into a sparkly red dress that’s itchy and uncomfortable. I feel like a present.

At precisely 5:20pm my doorbell rings. Grabbing my purse I open the door to see Namjoon. In a suit. Wow, he cleans up nice.

“Joon! You look great. That suit looks great on you,” I babble. Since when have I been nervous around him?

“Same to you! Well, not about the suit but that dress. Looks really good on you,” Namjoon stumbles out. Looks like I’m not the only awkward one.

I smile.

“Thank you Namjoon. Shall we?”

“Oh! Before we leave, I wanted to give you your Christmas gift.” He brings out a small velvet box from behind his back.

I gasp, then say, “Joon! You didn’t have to get me anything. I didn’t get you anything!”

“It’s okay,” Namjoon says, stepping inside, “I don’t need anything. I’m just glad that we’re friends.”

He hands me the box and I open it. Inside is a simple chain necklace with a gold North Star charm at the end. I look closer at it and realize-

“Namjoon! This is your necklace! I can’t accept this. It’s yours!” I try to give him the box back but he refuses.

“Please accept it. It will look perfect on you,” Namjoon pleads, and after trying again to give it back but failing, I accept it.

“Okay, Joon, thank you. It’s beautiful. Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course.”

He takes it out gently and brings it in front of my neck. Fastening it carefully I look down at it.

It fits perfectly.

‎♪ ooh, your necklace hanging from my neck

the night we couldn’t quite forget ‎♪

The party is dull. My parents compare me to my cousins, introduce me to tasteless men, and force me to talk to their judgmental friends. Luckily, Joon is there to help ease some of the pain. We last about an hour before leaving, saying we have ‘work to do on the design.’ To which my parents ignore. Oh well. Who cares? Not me.

Namjoon and I go to his house after (we always go to his house instead of my Air BnB because I said it feels more cozy). We collapse on the couch and laugh, thinking about our escapades at the party. Counting how many mini quiches my cousin ate, seeing how many chocolates we could sneak into Namjoon’s pocket.

“Hey! Why don’t we do karaoke? That’ll be fun way to ring in Christmas!” Namjoon says excitedly. And he’s right. It is Christmas Eve after all.

“Okay,” I agree. And we move the coffee table and chairs and then plug in the machine. After a couple rounds we tire out and decide to just listen to the Christmas radio. Jingle Bell Rock comes on and I find myself pulling Namjoon up off the couch.

“C’mon Joon, dance with me!” He’s reluctant at first but eventually we find a rhythm, happy and free.

‎♪ when we decided, we decided

to move the furniture so we could dance ‎♪

White Christmas comes on and Namjoon grabs my hand and we start to slowly ‘waltz’ around the room (it’s mostly swaying). I feel my heart start to beat faster, my face flush.

‎♪ baby, like we stood a chance ‎♪

I can feel Namjoon’s body heat and force myself to look into his eyes. Those, caring, sweet, beautiful eyes. He looks back at me. Our faces are mere inches apart, and I slowly press my lips to his. He doesn’t pull away.

‎♪ two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying ‎♪

I spend the night, wearing his clothes and sleeping next to him. We cuddle up and wake up together on Christmas morning.

“Good morning beautiful,” Namjoon says in his deep morning voice.

I blush.

“Good morning Joon,” I reply, trying to hide my face.

“Merry Christmas,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead.

“Merry Christmas. I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift,” I say, still thinking of what I could give him.

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You are the best gift.”

‎♪ and I remember thinking

are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

December turns to April, four months of dating Namjoon. My parents are overjoyed, but I manage to ignore their suggestive comments and instead focus on the man himself.

Valentine’s Day is a whole affair, Namjoon giving me the biggest bouquet of wildflowers, handpicked by him. And if that wasn’t enough, he also gifts me a whole bouquet of chocolate-covered strawberries (which he found out are my most favorite food ever). I get him a moon necklace that matches my North Star one, teasing, “Now we can be one of those cheesy couples who have matching necklaces.”

On a muddy spring day in March we make a spontaneous trip to a neighboring town’s traveling carnival. After buying sugary cotton candy and popcorn, Namjoon and I try our hands at the games. We each win a stuffed animal for each other, me winning him a koala and him winning me a giant panda. Their names are Koya and James respectively. The carousel is fun, us holding hands like lovesick teenagers the entire time and (probably) annoying all the kids riding. At the end of the day Namjoon and I go on the Ferris wheel, kissing sweetly at the top beneath the velvet starry sky.

Namjoon makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever felt. My self esteem has definitely improved and my heart is constantly full. He treats me like a queen and I hope that I treat him like the king that he is.

We go on cute dates around town. Coffee shop dates on rainy days, reading for hours on end at the library, feeding each other chocolate-covered strawberries at the park. Although, I think the best ones are either a simple afternoon at the beach or cuddling on the couch.

We often dance together in his living room, two souls in their own world. Just like the day of the Polaroid picture (which he has up on his wall), I feel as though I’m in my own bubble of joy.

‎♪ are we out of the woods yet?

are we in the clear yet? ‎♪

But not all good things last forever.

Talk of the future rarely come up, but when it does Namjoon is surprisingly avoidant of answering anything. I know that I have my job in the city, and I also know that he loves the beach and being away from crowds of people. How could this work?

A particularly bad argument leads to me storming out, irritated that Namjoon doesn’t want to discuss our relationship after the school is finished. And with how far it’s progressing, it looks to be done in about a year.

“Sweetheart, please. I’m not ready to talk about this yet because I don’t want to think about it,” Namjoon implores as I start to gather my things.

“You’re never ready. We have to talk about it someday, and I need to know about the future of us.” I’m so frustrated about this reoccurring disagreement, and this is a sign that it’s time for me to leave. “I’m leaving, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” His hand on my arm only further annoys me.

“Sweets, please don’t leave. I just…have commitment issues. Forgive me, but thinking that far ahead makes me feel tied down. I just want to live in the moment,” he pleads.

I look into those dark eyes and see something vulnerable and raw in there. There’s a nagging voice in the back of my head that says to stay but I turn and go out the door.

“Y/n!”

‎♪ remember when you hit the brakes too soon?

twenty stitches in a hospital room ‎♪

I get into my car and start driving in the downpour. I don’t know where I’m going, but I do know that I need to get out of this town.

The rocky cliffs are jagged in the lightning and I angrily pump the gas once more. I see a shape dart out and try to hit the brakes. But I’m too slow. All I see is black as the world fades away.

‎♪ when you started crying, baby, I did too

but when the sun came up, I was looking at you ‎♪

I groggily open my eyes and the first thing I see is a body sitting in a chair. As I come to, I also notice curtains and an IV. I’m in a hospital.

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I feel like it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let you leave I should’ve made you stay and you could’ve died…”

Namjoon.

He’s here.

I turn to look at him and smile weakly.

“Joon, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

Those words seem to break him and he comes and holds me close while sobbing.

‎♪ I was looking at you ‎♪

After he’s calmed down he tells me what happened. I hit a deer last night and had a concussion. After finding me and rushing me to the hospital I had to have twenty stitches (this probably isn’t accurate and I apologize).

Namjoon tells me that my parents have come to visit but I wasn’t awake when they came. It’s now two pm.

“I’m so sorry. So so sorry. It was my fault and I shouldn’t have let you leave-“

“Namjoon.” I cut off his rambling, “You sound like a broken record. It’s okay. I’m okay. Can we talk about what happened before the accident?” I know it’s quick, but I need to know before another horrible happens.

I feel his hand tense before he says, “Sure.”

“Please, Namjoon, tell me why you have commitment issues. I want to know everything about you. Please tell me. I want to be with you, I want to stay with you, but we need to be able to trust each other. Trust me, Namjoon,” I beg, trying to understand.

‎♪ remember when we couldn’t take the heat?

I walked out, I said “I’m setting you free” ‎♪

Namjoon casts his eyes down.

“I’m sorry y/n…you deserve to know. I-I’ll do my best to explain it.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “The future used to be something I would obsess over, planned to the very last detail. I had a girlfriend that I dated all through college, and I truly thought that she was the one.” It doesn’t bother me that Namjoon had another girlfriend, but I’m surprised he didn’t tell me about her sooner.

“She was a part of my future, but I suddenly found out that she’s been cheating. That changed everything. My whole future was thrown askew. It was then that I decided to live freely and not worry about the future because I didn’t know what was in store. To not be tied down and to be spontaneous,” Namjoon finishes.

‎♪ but the monsters turned out to be just trees ‎♪

It makes so much sense, why he wants to live this free life. I understand that his past girlfriend scarred him in many ways, and I don’t blame him for being nervous. But I still wish he would’ve told me all this.

“I understand Namjoon, and I’m sorry that happened to you. Why didn’t you tell me this before? I know we’ve only been dating for a couple months, but I feel that this is something important to share.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. I should’ve told you all this. Do you think you could forgive me? I promise that I will try to be more open and think a little bit more about my future with you,” Namjoon vows.

“I will forgive you. Eventually. But we need to work on communication if we want this to work.” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Deal.”

He leans over to kiss my cheek.

‎♪ when the sun came up you were looking at me ‎ ‎♪

And I let him.

‎♪ you were looking at me ‎♪

Two years later

The beach is hardly crowded today, only a few people set up with their umbrellas. Which is surprising, since it’s the start of summer. I guess the tourist waves hasn’t hit yet.

Joon carries a picnic basket in one hand and holds mine in his other. He says that he has a surprise date planned, but I don’t see much of a surprise because of the picnic basket.

We decided that it was best to take things slow, build up trust within one another. While the school was being finished, we took time to relax and get to know each other a bit better. Joon opened up more and I listened and now I better understand him. After the school was done, we had a big talk about our future.

I decided to quit my job and start my own architecture business in Tonjung, letting me live that CEO life while also being in Namjoon’s life. It’s a pretty successful corporation, as my main goal was to focus on smaller towns and help them.

I also had a big talking to with my parents. I explained how I felt and tried to get them to listen and understand me. They still want grandchildren, but they’re a little more understanding now of how that may or may not happen.

Joon and I aren’t even married yet, let alone thinking about children. Right now, all I want to do is enjoy this picnic ‘surprise’ date that he’s set up.

“Here’s the perfect spot for the picnic,” Joon says, leading me to a place away from other people while also being shaded. So much for a surprise.

We spread the blanket out then open the basket. I instantly see the chocolate-covered strawberries that I adore so much and grab one to munch on.

“You and your strawberries,” Joon says fondly, shaking his head at me.

“Hey, what can I say, I love them,” I mumble with my mouth full.

Joon laughs and I see those dimples of his pop out. That grin still never fails to make me have butterflies.

“And I love you.” He kisses the top of my head.

We enjoy the picnic and as we’re packing up Joon stops me.

“Wait, y/n, I have the surprise.”

I look at him questioningly as he pulls out a tiny box.

Then he gets down on one knee.

I start to go teary-eyed.

“Choi y/n, I know this isn’t a cherry blossom proposal from Business Proposal-“

I laugh at that, thinking about that evening.

“-but I hope this is just as special. You are the most talented, smart, amazing, and gorgeous woman I’ve ever met. Even in high school you were already surpassing everyone else. I’m so lucky to call you my girlfriend. Thank you for putting up with me and for loving me as I am. You never fail to make me laugh and always make me feel better when I’m having a rough day. I trust you more than anyone and I love you more than you will ever know.”

I let the tears fall as Joon finishes.

“And with that, I ask you, Choi y/n, will you marry me?”

Blinking, I answer the question.

“Yes.”

‎♪ are we out of the woods yet?

are we out of the woods yet?

are we out of the woods?

are we in the clear yet?

in the clear yet, good ‎♪

a/n: thanks for reading! 💕

#bts #bts x reader #kimnamjoon x reader #namjoon x reader #taylor swift #taylor swift eras #1989 taylor's version #1989 x bts #marblemoonstones #bangtan boys x ts eras - mm #romance #tropes

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