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BLOOM WITH YOU | month 0
After years of heartbreak and disappointment, you and your husbandâs dream of starting a family seemed out of reach. But miracle was a beautiful thing.
⧠PAIRING; wonwoo x reader
⧠GENRE; angst, fluff, smut
⧠TAGS/WARNINGS; heavy angst in this chapter, arguing, lots of tears, mention of blood, mention of miscarriages, mention of fertility issues, generally very sad and emotional chapter, wonwoo being a caring hubby :( , penetrative sex, missionary, squirting, creampie, love-making
⧠WORDCOUNT; 8k
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â24 MAY 2025 â [present]
You always thought your life was the kind people envied. You had the checklist: a career you enjoyed, a loving husband who kissed your forehead every morning, and a circle of family and friends who were there for every celebration and every stumble. It was the life you dreamed of when you were younger, the one where you imagined adulthood to be a smooth, perfect path.
Yet there was a piece of puzzle that seemed to leave the entire picture of your life incomplete, and without it you couldnât rest.
Youâve been searching for it for three years, but it was buried somewhere deep in the unknown. And the longer you desperately tried to dig through every corner of the earth, the more exhausted you grew â physically and mentally.
Yet still, you didnât want to stop. You couldnât give up.
It was midnight, and you were sitting by the window for hours with your knees to your chest, watching the rain pour heavily. You didnât bother to turn on more lights or even check the time because your mind was elsewhere. You were waiting for something â anything â to break the silence that had grown deafening over the years.
And just then, you heard the sound of the front door opening. Your body stiffened, and your head snapped towards the source of the noise. He was finally home.
You watched your husband step into the house and noticed that he was slightly soaked. He must have walked from the car to the house in the rain without an umbrella, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he had even cared to shield himself.
But your anger was quicker to rise. Three hours. He finished work three hours ago. You were sitting here, waiting, as you did so many nights before, wondering where he was and why he didnât come home. The excuses were always the same â delays, errands, last-minute shoots.
But a human could only sit and endure for so long before they reach their breaking point, and tonight was it.
You stood up abruptly and made your way towards him. Your bare feet made no sound against the floor, but your furious presence was loud. âWhere the hell were you?â you barked.
Wonwoo stopped in his tracks, his wide shoulders sagging as he let out a tired sigh. He placed his keys on the table by the door, but he didnât dare to meet your gaze. His exhaustion was imprinted onto his face, in the slight droop of his eyelids, the heaviness in his movements. He rubbed the back of his neck as water dripped from his fingers onto the floor.
âI donât want to do this right now,â he muttered with his deep voice.
Your eyes narrowed and your anger flared hotter. âYou donât want to do this right now?â you repeated as your voice rose.
âYou think I wanted to sit here for hours, wondering where you were? You finished work three hours ago. What the hell were you doing?â
âI was driving around,â he admitted after a moment, his voice barely audible over the rain hitting against the glass windows. âI needed to clear my head.â
Your laugh was short and bitter, and filled with disbelief. âClear your head? Must be nice, having the luxury to escape whenever you feel like it while I sit here drowning in everything thatâs wrong with our lives!â
Wonwooâs head snapped up at your words, and for the first time, he looked at you directly. His eyes were tired, but there was frustration in there too.
âDonât make this about me,â he said with a sharp tone. âYou think this is easy for me? You think I donât feel the same things you do?â
âThen why donât you act like it? Why donât you talk to me instead of running off and leaving me here to deal with it alone?â you questioned as you stood with a defensive posture.
âBecause every time we talk, it turns into this,â he shot back, his voice rising slightly. âA fight. Blaming each other for something neither of us can control.â
As the unspoken truth was finally exposed, the silence that followed was immediate and suffocating. Your once-bright vision of starting a family turned into a relentless cycle of pain and resentment. The hope that had once bound you together now only reminded you of what you both couldnât have.
Three long years of trying had left its mark â never-ending doctorâs appointments, treatments, and reassurances that never felt enough. Your patience had been tested at every social gathering where friends shared pregnancy announcements, and with each passing year, the gap between your expectations and reality widened.
You both endured the isolation and the pain of waiting together, hoping for something that stubbornly refused to arrive. And now, in the wake of another failed attempt, your shared grief threatened to consume what little remained of your hope and connection.
You felt your throat tighten as your anger threatened to give way to tears. But you refused to cry, refused to let yourself appear weak. âYouâve given up,â you said quietly. You tried to sound firm but your trembling voice betrayed you. âYouâve stopped trying.â
Wonwooâs expression softened slightly as he stepped closer to meet your eyes properly. âI havenât given up,â he said. âBut what do you want me to do? Keep pushing until we destroy whatâs left of us? Weâre tearing each other apart over something we canât change.â
You shook your head, and your hands trembled as you tried to hold onto your anger. However, you knew he was right, so his words struck a deep chord within you. Both of you were worn out and, in your own ways, broken. Neither of you could seem to get around the distance left by the dream that once united you together.
In the end, the tears you were holding back finally spilled over.
âYou donât get it,â you said with a whisper. âI feel like Iâve failed. Like Iâm the reason this isnât happening for us. And every time you pull away, it just makes me feel more alone.â
Wonwooâs face softened further, and he reached out for your hand, but you stepped back. âDonât,â your voice cracked. âDonât act like everythingâs fine. Itâs not fine.â
âI know itâs not,â he said as his hand dropped to his side. âIâm not pretending it is. But I donât know how to fix it. I donât know how to fix us.â
The rain outside seemed to grow louder, and the intensifying storm reflected the emotions between you both. You turned away and wrapped your arms around yourself as your body shook with silent sobs. You felt him watching you, felt the space between you that grew wider as each string of hope was cut off.
âItâs not supposed to be this way,â you whimpered. âWe had plans. We had dreams. We were supposed to have a family by now, to be happy. But everything feelsâŠbroken.â
Wonwoo stood there for a moment, watching you as if he were searching for the right words. Then, slowly, he dropped the bag he was holding and stepped forward. You didnât hear him move, didnât feel him until his arms wrapped around you from behind.
His hold on you was warm and strong, and his muscular arms wrapped around your small frame as if he was trying to hold you together when you couldnât.
At first, you tensed up, taken by surprise, but then you turned around and melted into him, letting your tears soak his chest. âIâm sorry,â he murmured against her hair, âIâm so sorry baby.â
You shook your head as your sobs muffled against his chest. âIâm scared,â you admitted. âIâm scared weâll never get to start a family like we dreamed. Iâm scared weâre never going to be okay again. That weâre never going to be enough for each other.â
He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, feeling his own tears rolling down his cheeks. âBut youâre enough for me my loveâ he said, his voice breaking. âYouâve always been enough for me. I justâŠI donât know how to make this better.â
As much as Wonwoo wanted to comfort you with reassurance, he could keep his feelings locked away all the time. This was the honest he could get.
You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him through your tear-streaked face. His red and glistening eyes met yours, and you saw the pain, the love, the desperation in them. Like your own.
âI donât want to lose you,â you cried silently.
âYou wonât,â he promised as his hands cupped your face. âWeâre in this together. No matter what. Remember the promise we made on our wedding day?â he asked, and you nodded slowly,
âWeâll be okayâ
You went to sleep that night, with your head resting on your husbandâs shoulder while his arms were securely wrapped around your waist, thinking back to the day when everything started to fall apart. The memories played over and over like a cruel loop.
How badly you wished it was just a bad dream, a sickening nightmare that youâd shake off upon waking. But it wasnât. It was real. The pain was too sharp, too vivid to be an illusion. And as much as you wished to escape it, every time you closed your eyes you were forced to face the harshness of it all.
â1 JUNE 2022 â [3 years ago]
You hummed to yourself as you sliced through a bundle of fresh spring onions. It was a peaceful evening, and you were excited for your husband to come home from his photoshoot. Heâd been working so hard lately and you wanted to treat him with his favorite dish â a noce pot of kimchi jjigae.
Cooking has become your comforting hobby lately ever since you found out you were pregnant. While Wonwoo was out for his clientsâ photoshoots, you would stay at home to make his favourite meals so he could enjoy them when he returned home.
As you stirred the pot on the stove, your free hand instinctively went to your small, round belly. At twelve weeks pregnant, you had just begun to notice the subtle changes in your body. It was a surprise you didnât expect, a blessing you both dreamed of.
As you reached for the ladle, a sudden sharp, searing pain shot through your lower abdomen. Your hand flew to your stomach, and you doubled over, gasping for air. The ladle slipped from your hand and clattered onto the floor.
It was just a cramp. That was what you told yourself. The pregnancy books said cramps were normal. You leaned against the counter and tried to breathe through the discomfort. But then it came again, this time sharper, radiating down your lower back. Your knees buckled, and you had to grip the counter to keep yourself upright.
The warmth between your legs came next, and it was unmistakable and terrifying. You staggered back and looked down to see blood staining your leggings. A wave of panic overtook you.
âNo, no, no,â you whispered with your trembling voice. Your breathing became ragged, the pain was becoming sharper and incessant. The blood was so red, so graphic against the kitchen tile.
Your phone was on the table, a few feet away. You shuffled toward it with your blurring vision. With your hands shaking uncontrollably, you tapped on Wonwooâs number and held your breath as the phone rang.
Once. Twice. Six times. No answer.
You knew Wonwoo barely checked his phone while working, but this was urgent. You needed him badly.
Your chest tightened. âWonwoo, please,â you whimpered, and your voice cracked as the call went to voicemail. You tried again, but the phone rang endlessly. The pain grew worse, and tears blurred your vision almost completely. The world around you felt like it was spinning out of control.
On the third try, he finally answered. âHey babe, sorry I was busy. Whatâs up?â Wonwoo said with a casual voice. You tried to speak, but the words were choking inside your throat.
âBabe? Are you okay?â his voice shifted, becoming tense.
âY/n?â
âIââ your voice was barely a whisper, and the effort it took to speak felt huge.
Another wave of pain crashed over you that pulled a strangled cry from your lips. You couldnât hold the phone anymore. Your phone slipped from your hand and fell onto the floor. You tried to pick it up, but your vision darkened around the edges, and before you could say anything more, everything went black.
When you woke, the first thing you noticed was the overwhelming brightness. The sharp light in your eyes made you wince and turn your head. Your body felt unnaturally heavy, and your limbs stiff, and a dull ache throbbed in your abdomen. When the sterile smell of antiseptic hit your nostrils, you realised that you werenât at home.
âHoney?â Wonwooâs voice was hoarse, and it was filled with a mixture of relief and anguish.
He was sitting beside your bed with his hand wrapped tightly around yours. His face was pale, his eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. His usual calm and confident demeanor was gone. Instead, it was replaced by a fragile, broken man. Something you havenât seen in a long time since his grandmother passed away a few years back.
You swallowed hard, but your throat was dry. âWonwoo?â you rasped.
âHey, I'm here,â he said quickly and leaned closer. âI'm right here baby. You're okay. You're safe.â
You tried to sit up, but the effort made your head swim. âWhatâŠwhat happened?â you asked.
Wonwooâs face crumpled, and he squeezed your hand tighter as he used his other hand to brush a strand of hair from your damp forehead.
âYou called me,â he began. âI-I didn't know what was wrong, but when you stopped talking, I rushed home. You were on the floor, Y/n. There was blood everywhereâ his voice cracked as he spoke, and he looked away, swallowing hard.
âI called an ambulance, and they brought you here.â
The air felt heavy after that. Heavy with something unsaid. You could feel it â his silence, the pain etched into every line of his face. Then, your hand instinctively moved to your stomach, feeling dread creeping into your chest.
âThe baby,â you whispered with a trembling voice. âWonwooâŠis the baby okay?â
Wonwooâs breath hitched as he froze. For a moment, he didnât answer. He couldnât meet your eyes. Instead, he let out a choked sob, and his body shook as he leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His tears were warm against your skin, almost like you could feel his grief soaking into your skin.
âIâm so sorry, baby,â he whispered, his voice breaking. âIâm so, so sorry.â
Your heart stopped, and your whole body went cold as the meaning of his words sank in. âNo,â you said, shaking your head. Your voice rose in panic and disbelief.
âNo, thatâs not true. Donât say that Wonwoo. Donât you dare say that.â
He pulled back with his face streaked with tears, and tried to cup your cheeks, but you pushed his hands away. âNo!â you cried. âThe babyâs fine. The baby has to be fine. Tell me the babyâs fine!â
Your hands moved to your stomach, feeling for something â anything â that would prove him wrong. But there was nothing. The flatness of your abdomen, and the emptiness you felt, confirmed the truth you desperately wanted to deny.
âY/n,â Wonwoo said softly, his voice pleading, âpleaseâŠâ
âNo!â your scream echoed through the hospital room. You began to sob uncontrollably, shaking your head as if doing so could erase the reality of what had happened.
âNo, no, no! I canâtâŠI canât lose the baby!â
Your husband reached for you and pulled you into his arms as you fell apart. You hit his chest weakly with your fists as your sobs muffled against him.
âItâs not fair,â you cried, âwhy did this happen? Why?â
Wonwooâs own grief broke free, and he began to cry loudly, his body shuddering as he held onto you. His cries were unfiltered and guttural, the kind of pain that came from losing something that could never be replaced.
âIâm sorry,â he muttered through his tears. âIâm so sorry my love. I couldnât do anything. I couldnât save you. I couldnât save our baby.â
â31 DECEMBER 2024 â [ 5 months ago]
It felt like deja vu, but worse. You sat on the hospital bed as you blankly stared out of the window. You could hear the monitors beeping and the muffled voices of nurses outside the door. To you, it might as well have been the exact one where your heart had broken all those other times.
You were supposed to be celebrating New Yearâs Eve with your friends and family, hoping and praying the new year to come would be filled with joy you deserved with your baby. Yet, here you were, in the same room you were in all these years ago â the same white walls and the same faint scent of disinfectant.
The world outside carried on like nothing happened. The snow continued to drift down from the sky, covering everything in white. Somewhere out there, people were laughing, drinking, counting down the hours until midnight. They were making resolutions, clinking glasses, kissing and hugging their loved ones.
But here in this suffocating space, you felt as if time was frozen. There was no celebration, no fresh start. Just loss.
For the sixth time.
But you didnât cry. You had no tears left. You didnât scream or wail or ask why like you did all those other times. The grief settled into your bones so deeply that it didnât need to be expressed anymore. It became a part of you, as much as your blood and breath.
Across the room, Wonwoo sat in a chair with his face buried in his hands. His body shook as he silently sobbed, and his fingers gripped his hair as though he could somehow pull himself back together. He had always been your rock, the one who always reassured you even when his own voice cracked.
But it all seemed too much to keep himself together. He was completely torn.
âI donât understand,â he choked out between sobs, âwhy does this keep happening?â
You didnât answer. You didnât move. You just kept staring out at the snow with your hands resting limply in your lap.
This was supposed to be the one. The doctors said this pregnancy was strong, that the babyâs heartbeat was steady, that things looked promising. For the first time in years, you allowed yourself to hope â really hope.
And now, that hope was dimmed. Again.
The door opened softly, and Dr. Jung stepped inside. She was your doctor through all six pregnancies. Each time, she was the one to deliver the devastating news, and each time, her expression had grown wearier. Now, she looked almost as broken as you and Wonwoo did.
Wonwoo wiped his face and sat up straighter. His hands were still shaking as he reached for yours, but you didnât react to his touch.
Dr. Jung hesitated for a moment before speaking, like she was trying to find the right words. But there were no right words.
âY/nâŠWonwoo,â she began gently. âIâm so, so sorry for your loss.â
Wonwoo inhaled a sharp breath and blinked back fresh tears that threatened to fall. But you didnât blink.
Dr. Jung shifted in her chair as her hands clasped together tightly. âI know youâve been through this so many times before,â she continued, her voice laced with sorrow. âAnd I canât imagine how much pain youâre in right now. But we finally have some answers.â
Wonwooâs body stiffened, and his grip tightened on your lifeless hand. âWhat do you mean?â he asked with his hoarse voice.
Dr. Jung exhaled softly. âThe tests we ran after your last miscarriage, and the scans we did earlier this time, have given us a clearer picture. Y/n, your womb has an abnormal structure. Itâs something we hadnât been able to see before with certainty, but now we can.â
The words floated in the air like smoke, curling around and suffocating you. Wonwoo frowned and shook his head as if trying to make sense of the given information.
âWhat kind of abnormality?â he asked, his voice shaking. âWhy didnât anyone see this before?â
Dr. Jungâs expression softened. âItâs not something that always presents clearly in routine scans. But in Y/nâs case, the shape of her uterus makes it difficult for a pregnancy to progress past a certain point. The risk of miscarriage is significantly higher.â
Wonwoo felt his breath get caught in his throat. He the. turned to you and searched your face, but you were still staring out the window. And for the first time since he had known you, It was hard for him to read what you were feeling. And it broke him.
âThere are treatment options,â Dr. Jung continued softly.
âIn some cases, surgery can help. ButâŠI need to be honest with you both. Even with intervention, the risk of miscarriage will always be there. It may be lower, but it wonât disappear completely.â
Wonwoo let out a shaky breath as his hands tightened into fists. âSo youâre saying...it might never happen for us?â
Dr. Jung hesitated. âIâm saying that it will be much more difficult than for most couples. And I want you both to be prepared for that reality.â
You finally blinked. Your lips parted slightly, but you still didnât speak.
You should have felt something â anger, sorrow, frustration â but there was only a vast emptiness inside you. You always thought you were cursed the second time it happened, that you were just unlucky, that fate was cruel.
But now that there was a medical explanation, you understood that it was your body. Your own body had been betraying you all these years.
Dr. Jung reached out and placed a hand over your cold one. âI know this is a lot to process. You donât have to make any decisions right now. Just take the time you need to grieve.â
You slowly turned your head towards the doctor, and your voice finally surfaced after what felt like an eternity. âSo, youâre saying I was never meant to be a mother?â you whispered. The words were quiet, but they cut through the room like a knife.
Wonwooâs face crumpled. âNo, honey, donât say thatââ
Dr. Jung shook her head quickly. âThatâs not what Iâm saying at all. Many women with uterine abnormalities go on to have successful pregnancies. Itâs just more complicated, and we would need to explore options very carefully.â
You absorbed the words, but they felt far like they were being spoken through a fog.
Wonwoo reached for your hand again and squeezed it tightly. âWeâll find a way,â he pleaded. âEven if we have to try again, even if itâs hard, weâll find a way.â
Your eyes met his then, and for the first time all night, you let yourself feel the burden of his sorrow. His hope. His desperation.
âWe said that last time,â you murmured.
Wonwooâs face crinkled, and his body shuddered with another silent sob. He didnât argue, because he knew you were right. You both said it last time. And the time before. And the time before that.
Dr. Jung sighed softly as she stood up. âIâll leave you both alone for now. If you need anything, just call.â
She left the room quietly and closed the door behind her. The silence that followed was unbearable.
Wonwoo finally stood up and paced towards the window. He placed a hand against the glass and looked outside at the city below. The sky was glowing with fireworks, filled with explosions of red, blue, and gold painting the night. The world was celebrating the new year that just began.
People were cheering and kissing as they welcomed the new year with laughter and joy. And here you were, drowning in loss and misfortune.
You watched the fireworks for a moment, then turned back to your husband. His shoulders were shaking again while his forehead was pressed against the glass. You should have gone to him, should have wrapped your arms around him.
But you couldnât move.
âI donât think I can do this againâ your voice came out flat and emotionless.
Wonwoo turned to you with his eyes filled with grief. âY/nââ
âI canât Wonwooâ you whispered through your cracked voice. âI canât keep doing this. I canât keep hoping just to have it ripped away. I canât keep watching you fall apart because of me.â
He was in front of you in an instant, kneeling beside the bed as his hands cupped your face. âBaby this isnât your fault. Itâs not because of you.â
Tears finally spilled down your cheeks. âBut it is. My bodyâŠitâs broken Wonwooâ
His own tears fell freely as he kissed your hands, your forehead, your cheeks, and lastly your pale chapped lips. âYou are not broken, my loveâ he whispered.
âAnd we will figure this out. Even if itâs different than what we imagined, we will figure it out together, okay? Please don't give up.â
You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that there was still something to fight for. But as the fireworks exploded outside, all you could feel was the weight of six losses.
You didnât know how to carry it anymore.
â30 MAY 2025 â [present]
The sun was warm against your skin, while the gentle breezes swayed your brown locks all over the place. It was a beautiful day, the kind of day that should have made you feel light and at peace. But peace was hard to find for the past few years.
You sat cross-legged on your checkered picnic blanket, your fingers absentmindedly running through your husbandâs hair as he lay on his back with his head resting on your lap.
Wonwoo was talking with his deep comforting voice, he was weaving stories from your past. He talked about memories of when you were both younger and happier. He spoke about your first date and how you were nervous as you sat in the tiny café, your hands inches apart as both waited for the other to close the distance. He reminded you of your honeymoon in Singapore, especially when you would both run into the ocean at midnight.
But you werenât listening.
Your eyes were locked on a family that you noticed walking down the paved path in front of you. A man and a woman were holding hands, and between them were their two children.
The older girl, no more than five, pointed excitedly at something in the distance, and her laughter rang like wind chimes in the warm summer air. The younger boy, perhaps two, held to his motherâs side with his tiny fingers gripping her dress as he looked up at her with wide, adoring eyes.
You felt your chest tighten. It was the kind of family you always dreamed of having for yourself and Wonwoo. But fate had other plans.
Your fingers in your husband's hair came to a halt as your touch grew still.
The familiar suffocating ache settled in your chest, and it made it hard for you to breathe. Your throat felt constricted, and before you could stop it, a single tear rolled down your cheek.
Wonwooâs voice trailed off. He had been mid-sentence as he told you about some ridiculous thing your neighbour did last week, but when he felt your fingers go still, when he noticed the shift in your breathing, his body tensed.
âBaby?â he called softly, tilting his head slightly to look up at you. But you didnât respond. Your gaze remained locked on the family with your glassy eyes.
Wonwoo sat up slowly and shifted his weight until he was kneeling in front of you. His hands cupped your face and gently turned you away from the sight before you could spiral again further into pain.
âHey,â he whispered, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears that escaped. âLook at me.â
You blinked as your focus shifted to him, but the sadness in your eyes remained. Wonwoo swallowed a hard lump, feeling his own chest tightening. He saw that look too many times before. He had felt that pain too.
The past five months were a battle â a slow, painful process of trying to piece yourselves back together after yet another devastating loss.
Six times. You lost six babies. And this time felt different. It was heavier, as if something inside you shattered beyond repair.
Wonwoo took time off work, just for you. And he planned this picnic in hopes â praying â that it would be a step toward healing. But now, as he looked at the sorrow in your eyes, he knew that no amount of warm sunlight or gentle breezes could erase the pain you carried.
He let out a slow, shaky breath and pressed his forehead against yours. âPlease baby,â he murmured. âTalk to me.â
You closed your eyes as more tears slipped free. âI thought I was doing better,â you admitted, your voice barely audible. âI thought I was learning how to live with it.â
Wonwoo tightened his hold on your face a little. âYou donât have to pretend with me, love.â
You exhaled shakily. âI see them, and I wonder if that will ever be us.â
He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. âI wonder the same thing,â he admitted. âEvery single day.â
You let out a soft, broken sound â half sob, half sigh. âI hate feeling like this,â you confessed. âI hate how every happy family feels like a reminder of what weâve lost.â
Wonwooâs hands trailed down your waist, squeezing gently. âI know baby, I know.â
You then met his sad gaze, and looked for something â reassurance, hope, anything that could ease the ache inside you. âDo you ever think we should stop trying?â
The question was sharp and straightforward that made Wonwoo mentally wince.
Wonwooâs jaw tightened. He asked himself that question before in the quiet hours of the night when he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to your soft, uneven breathing beside him. He thought about what it would mean to let go of the dream you had held for so long.
But letting go felt impossible.
âI donât know,â he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. âBut I do know that I donât want to lose us.â
Your breath hitched. âI donât either.â
Wonwoo reached for your hands and laced your fingers together. âThen we take it one day at a time. We stop thinking about whatâs ahead and just focus on now. On us.â
You looked down at your intertwined hands, and then back up at him. âAnd if we never get there?â
His throat tightened. He didnât have an answer for that.
But instead of speaking, he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. âThen we figure out what âthereâ looks like for us,â he whispered against your skin.
A fresh wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, but this time, you didnât try to hold them back. You let yourself lean into him, let yourself be held.
â1 AUGUST 2025
The motion of the crochet hook moving through the soft pink yarn was almost hypnotic. Over and under, loop and pull. You worked in silence as your fingers moved with precision. It was a hobby that you picked up when you were ten, and you often praised yourself at how good you were at it.
You werenât making anything for anyone in particular. There was no baby waiting for this tiny cardigan. No expectant nursery filled with soft toys and pastel colors. No little hands that would reach for you, no sleepy eyes that would blink up at you in the dead of night.
But still, you crocheted.
The soft yarn draped and pooled over your lap. The cardigan was small and delicate, made for a child who would never wear it. And yet, you kept going, because what else was there to do?
You stopped counting the days since the last you lost your baby, but the grief never truly left you. It was in everything you did, every thought you had.
When you cooked dinner, you thought about how you would have needed to make something different for a toddler. When you went to bed, you thought about how you would have been waking up to cries in the middle of the night.
Even now, sitting in your quiet home, crocheting, you thought about the tiny fingers that would have reached for the soft wool.
A deep sigh left your lips and your hands paused as you traced the fabric with your fingertips. The baby cardigan was almost finished. Just a few more rows, a few buttons to attach, and it would be complete.
But complete for who?
The unanswerable question kept lingering in your mind.
Before you could let your thoughts settle in too deeply, you heard the sound of footsteps out in the hallway. The door then creaked open, and you looked up, startled.
It was Wonwoo, standing in the doorway with a wide grin on his face. He was wearing a birthday hat that was slightly crooked on his head, and in his hands, he carried a cake. It was small, homemade, and slightly uneven, with a single candle lit on top.
His voice then began to fill the quiet dimmed room as he began to sing. Wonwoo made his way towards you as he sang, and his eyes were twinkling with love.
âHappy birthday to you.â
âHappy birthday to you.â
âHappy birthday my dear Y/n.â
âHappy birthday to you.â
You blinked in confusion, and then realisation. Your birthday. You forgot â of course you did.
When he reached the end of the song, he knelt in front of you and held the cake out with both hands.
âMake a wish, baby,â he murmured softly.
A lump formed in your throat as you looked at the cake. It wasnât from a bakery â that you knew was obvious by looking at it. The frosting was unequal, some areas were too thick, and others were too thin. There was a smudge of chocolate near the base where he likely tried to fix a mistake.
He made it himself, and it made you tear up even more.
Wonwoo must have noticed, because he shifted a little in slight embarrassment. âI, uhâŠI did my best,â he admitted with a sheepish chuckle. âI know itâs not perfect, butââ
âItâs perfect,â you cut him off with a broken whisper, and Wonwooâs expression softened instantly.
You inhaled shakily as you stared at the candleâs flame. You hadnât made a birthday wish in years. Not since the first miscarriage. Every year, you wished for the same thing. A baby. A chance to be a mother. A chance to keep what you lost so many times.
But the universe didnât listen.
Your hands trembled a little as you closed your eyes. And then, for the first time in years, you made a different wish.
You wished for peace. For healing. For the strength to move forward, even when it felt impossible.
Opening your eyes, you leaned forward and blew out the candle. The flame flickered once, then disappeared.
Wonwoo carefully placed the cake on the coffee table before turning back to you. He noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks and frowned. Without hesitation, he reached warm hands for you and he cupped your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs.
His touch was so tender it made you melt into it. He knew exactly what was making you sad. He always knew. His eyes drifted downward for a moment, landing on the small pink cardigan in your lap.
His chest tightened.
You saw the way his expression changed â the way his own pain surfaced.
âWooâŠâ you started weakly. But he didnât let you finish.
Instead, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It wasnât rushed or desperate. It was slow, full of love, and full of the things neither of you could always say out loud.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you felt his breath warm against your slightly swollen lips.
âI hate seeing you sad on your birthday,â he murmured. âI justâŠI wanted today to be a good day for you.â
You let out a shaky breath. âIt is a good dayâ you replied.
He pulled back a little and stared at your face. âYou donât have to say that.â
You gave him a small, sad smile. âBut I mean it. You made it a good day.â
His thumb brushed over your cheek which lingered just beneath your eye. âI just want you to be okay.â
You swallowed hard as you glanced down at the cardigan once more. âI donât know if Iâll ever be okay,â you admitted. âNot completely.â
Wonwooâs hold on you tightened. âThen Iâll stay with you until you are. For however long it takes.â
Tears cascaded down your cheeks again, but this time, they werenât just from sadness. They were from love. From gratitude. From knowing that, even in the darkest moments, you werenât alone.
Wonwoo exhaled softly, looking at the half-finished cardigan. âDo you want to talk about it?â
You hesitated, but then nodded. âI justâŠI donât know why I keep making them,â you said, running your fingers over the fabric. âItâs not like anyone will wear them.â
Wonwoo was quiet for a moment before reaching down and picking up the cardigan. He turned it over in his hands and studied it carefully.
âItâs beautiful,â he murmured.
You let out a soft, breathy laugh. âItâs unfinished.â
âSo?â he lifted it slightly and inspected the delicate stitches. âIt still matters.â
âWhy?â you looked at him with your heart aching.
Wonwoo met your gaze, âbecause itâs proof that you love them,â he said simply. âAll of them. And that matters.â
You stopped breathing for a second. You never thought about it like that. For so long, you crocheted these tiny garments in silence, never daring to say what they truly meant to you. But Wonwoo always understood.
He placed the cardigan gently back in your lap and kissed your forehead. âWe donât have to figure everything out today,â he whispered. âBut whatever happens nextâŠwe do it together.â
You nodded slowly as your fingers tightened around the soft fabric.
Together. For the first time in months, the word didnât feel so heavy.
Wonwoo smiled as he brushed another tear from your cheek. âNow, come on. Letâs eat some of this cake before it completely falls apart.â
You let out a genuine laugh and shook your head. âI think it already has.â
Wonwoo gasped dramatically. âWow. Rude.â
You smiled, truly smiled, and for the first time in a long time, the weight in your chest felt just a little lighter.
Maybe you were okay just yet. But with your husband by your side, maybe you would be.
â3 SEPTEMBER 2025
Your body trembled under the weight of his as he slowly sank himself into you. A low grunt could be heard as he pushed past the tightness he felt around your walls, and another whiny moan when he felt his tip kiss your cervix.
âFuckâ he swore under his breath as he adjusted his position while your legs and arms were wrapped around his broad body.
The weather was getting a little cooler these days, and Wonwoo could feel you slightly shivering beneath him. Grabbing the blanket that was discarded on the side of the bed earlier, he threw it over your naked bodies.
âYou okay?â he asked, pulling back slightly to look at you. You slowly opened your eyes and gave him a weak nod.
Wonwoo cupped your face and his thumbs traced over your cheekbones, as if he was reassuring himself that you were real, that you were here, together, despite everything.
âI love you,â he murmured, his voice hoarse. Your lips parted slightly, like you wanted to say it back but couldn't find the words. Instead, you answered him with a kiss.
You bucked your hips upwards to motion him to move, and Wonwoo let out a small hiss as his one hand slowly trailed down to your hip while using the other to support himself upright.
Wonwoo pulled out just enough for the head of his cock to remain buried in, and then in one swift motion, he slammed himself right back in. Your mouth gaped, letting out a loud gasp.
He spread your legs wider and repositioned himself to give him better access. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head, then leaning in to press his sweaty forehead against yours.
He began to thrust in a sickeningly slow pace, deep enough for you to feel his cock brush against your cervix. Wonwoo wanted you to know, to feel, how much he loved you. With every open mouthed kiss he peppered over your lips, every deep rhythmic thrust, he wanted you to understand that nothing in this world would ever separate you from him. That heâd love you till the world ended.
âI love you so muchâ he whispered against your lips. Silent tears rolled down in the corner of your eyes, both in pleasure and love. But you couldnât deny the pang of pain you felt either. It followed you like a shadow in everything that you did.
âI l-love you t-tooâ your voice broke, followed by a moan you couldnât contain.
âItâs okay sweetheart, donât hold yourself backâ he reassured as he slowly picked up his speed. You intertwined your fingers tighter with his as he leaned in to bury his face in your neck once again.
âM-Moreâ you cried out in pleasure as you squirmed beneath him.
Wonwooâs eyes darkened, and his thrusts came to a halt as he pulled out completely. He pushed himself up on his knees, the blanket covering your bodies slipping off his back, and hooked his arms under your legs to pull you down closer.
And before you could comprehend anything, you felt him ram inside your tight hole in one go. You felt the air knock out of your lungs as you held onto his arm for dear life. Wonwoo only gave you a second or two to adjust before he began to pound into you mercilessly, the harsh sound of skin slapping and bed creaking filling your confined bedroom.
His fingers dug into your hips as he tried to maintain his pattern, but your cries and moans fed into his desire to go faster than he already was. The way your breasts bounded up and down, he couldnât resist the urge to fondle with them. His slender fingers gently pinched at your nipple, causing you to let out a louder moan.
âD-Donât stop b-babyâ you whined.
Wonwoo leaned down and pecked your lips, âI wasnât planning to sweetheartâ he grunted.
Wonwoo knew you were starting to get overstimulated when your moans turned into sobs, and the way you pushed at his arms to beg him for a release.
You felt a tight coil form inside of you, ready to snap at any moment. âP-Please, I c-canât. Fuck! Baby I-I canâtâ you cried as you dug your nails into his biceps.
Wonwoo could feel the way your walls were clenching tighter which made it harder for him to control himself. âLet go babyâ he said, pressing an open mouthed kiss on your trembling lips.
âJust let goâ
And just like that, the coil finally snapped. Wonwoo pulled out just in time as you squirted all over this cock. Your screams filled the room, your hips shuddering as you continued to soak the bed sheets. Your husband watched with his hooded eyes as you unfolded, biting his lip.
It wasnât often that youâd squirt during sex, but when you did, it was the hottest thing Wonwoo ever saw. And most of the time, heâd lose his sanity completely.
Wonwoo leaned down and gave you a sloppy kiss while his fingers trailed down to your soaked cunt. âShh, youâre okay babyâ he mumbled against your lips as he slowly rubbed your swollen clit in a circular motion.
When you finally calmed down, you let out a small sob, feeling overwhelmed. You never felt so good in a long time.
âYou okay?â your husband asked, staring deeply into your eyes with a loving gaze. You gave him a nod and reached your hand out to caress his sweaty face.
With a soft smile and a peck on your lips, Wonwoo spread your legs wide once again. With one hand gripped on his thick shaft and the other resting on your cheek, he gently eased himself back inside you.
Your back arched and your arms flew to wrap around his muscular torso. His thrusts were more relaxed and slow than before, like he wanted you to understand the depth of his love for you.
âI love youâ he whispered into your ear.
âAnd weâll be okay.â
The world outside didnât exist at that moment. There was no grief, no shattered dreams, no echoes of what you lost. There was only this â skin against skin, lips tracing, hands rediscovering the familiar dips and curves of each otherâs bodies.
Wonwoo trailed kisses down the column of your throat, and paused at the rapid pulse beneath your skin. He lingered there and savoured the proof of life, the reminder that you were still here, still fighting, still capable of loving even after everything.
You let out a shaky breath as your hands roamed over his back, feeling the tension that lived in his muscles for far too long. You pressed soft kisses along his shoulder as a silent reassurance that you werenât totally broken beyond repair.
This wasnât just about making love. It was about finding your way back to each other. It was about healing in the only way you knew how.
âWeâre okay,â you whispered, your voice trembling but sure.
Wonwoo swallowed hard as he rested his forehead against yours. âYeah,â he whispered back, his fingers tightening around your waist.
âWe are.â
He continued thrusting into you until he felt himself reaching his edge. His moans grew louder the closer he got to his orgasm, his eyes clenching shut as he kept his face buried in your neck.
And then, he finally felt himself snap. His movements stilled as he bursted inside you like fireworks, painting your walls white with his hot sticky cum and filling you up to the brim.
âFuck!â he dragged on the word as he collapsed over you.
You shut your eyes and and savoured the way his cum still spurted like it was never going to end. And when it did, you felt him slowly pull out. The arousal dripping from your swollen cunt was immediate. But unlike how he always did, Wonwoo didnât gather his cum with his fingers to push it back in. Instead, he just let it flow.
The hopes of starting a family was dimming, but it didnât diminish completely. But now, you and Wonwoo knew that you were at a point where you knew you didnât want to force yourselves into anything. If the universe wanted to answer your prayer, it would.
As much as it hurt, you came to accept that this was what life was. Not every dream is fulfilled, but when you have someone who loves you right next to you, heartbreak and disappointment is a little easier to overcome.
And with Wonwoo by your side, sticking to his promise he made during your wedding, life wasnât all that miserable. In the end, he was your happiness. He was your answer to your questions. He was your everything, and right now, that mattered to you the most.
a/n; I donât know what to feel about the smut, itâs lowkey shit but hey I gave it a shot!
#svt x reader#svt fanfic#svt imagines#seventeen x reader#svt fic#svt fluff#seventeen#svt#svt smut#svt wonwoo#svt scenarios#svt series#seventeen smut#seventeen fanfic#seventeen series#wonwoo svt#wonwoo seventeen#seventeen wonwoo#seventeen scenarios#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo smut#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo fic#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo angst#svt angst#seventeen angst#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo
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Flipping the Characters in Futtara Doshaburi
This show is a vibe, and I'm vibing with it. I'm loving everything about these two lonely people desperately seeking intimacy. Watching episode four in the car while the rain poured around me only added to the vibe. That said, being in the car means I can't do my normal screenshot process so semi-relevant gifs it is.
We start with Hagiwara descending into the depths. I mentioned after episode 3 that he still had a more positive outlook on his circumstances. But he's now on his way into the hole where he won't be able to gloss over his unhappiness. Sei is already in the hole. He has been there for a while, he knows he's there, and he's somewhat resigned himself to it.
This change in Hagiwara's attitude is reflected in our aesthetics too. While Hagiwara's home had bright and warm elements last episode, the door to his house is cold and dark after their dinner. It's no longer welcoming. The restaurant is where the warm colors resided.
However, the truly interesting thing to me about this show is in how much this show has flipped the character expectations.
It's flipped the idea of "good guys" and "bad guys" - particularly in a drama that's definitely leading towards cheating. It's pretty standard fair in a cheating drama for the partners to be painted as not caring or evil. But as Hiragawa and Sei make clear in their exchange after the meal, nobody really is in the wrong (yet). It's really unfair to all of them. I actually think Sei's partner has the shortest end of this stick thus far, but that's a different discussion.
The partners of our leads are caring. They cook for our leads. They clean up for our leads. They are kind. But they offer companionship, not sex. This makes them "cruel". It's cruel to be kind.
Our leads actually have only shown minimal considerations towards their partner. Sei sprayed perfume and Hiragawa goes to his girlfriend's social events, but they aren't the ones doing the major acts of service. The have mainly shown care to each other, not their partners. And they mainly want sex (and intimacy, but...the dialogue keeps saying sex) from their partners. In most other shows, our leads would be the "bad guy". The boyfriend who is obsessed with sex and has you do all of the work. But this show is clearly demonstrating that while romance may be in the little things, the little things cannot fill the empty hole. And it's okay to want that hole to be filled.
The characterization of our main leads has flipped as well. The initial setup in episode one depicted Hagiwara as a bit of a bumbling oaf. He sent an email to the wrong address. He forgot to pick up his ID card. Sei, on the other hand, was initially portrayed as the fastidious one handling a business need and admonishing Hagiwara for wearing an id tag that wasn't company issued.
But we have learned that those were false impressions. Hagiwara is good at his job. It's made clear that he's good at planning the company outings. He's good at sales. He's the responsible one gathering and returning the umbrellas. He's the "picky" one at the grill making sure the grilling is done correctly. Sei is the one who stands in the rain and acts a mess. We now know he likely reacted to the id tag because of his complex feelings about who designed it, not because he actually cared about the rules. It's an interesting switch up.
There's also some interesting flips in that Hagiwara is a gregarious guy who talks a lot (he's in sales after all). He not only goes to social events on the regular, he plans them. But he never says what he actually wants. That characterization is more common, but it's still an interesting dichotomy. He is tumblr - only saying his deepest thoughts when writing to a stranger.
Meanwhile, Sei says exactly what he wants. The man is crude and rude, but he's also open with his thoughts. Many taciturn, loner characters are blunt, but few are as open as Sei. He just lays it all out on the table. I wish I could catch the linguistics of Japanese to know if he's actually using rude speech patterns as well, but that's outside of my skillset.
Being a prickly porcupine, Sei is used to people being put off by him. He said earlier that he wasn't nice. And he's not. But we still LIKE him and we still FEEL for him. And that's incredibly difficult to pull off in a show that clocks episodes in at under 25 minutes.
Sei fully expected that Higawara would back off and only give him courtesy greetings once he found out his identity. His friend from college did just that this episode. A few courtesy greetings followed by "Oh you don't have LINE. Guess we won't talk then. Bye." Fujisawa is the only one that seems to have put up with his personality. But Higawara, as bad as he is at expressing his own thoughts, feels comfortable with Sei. He keeps reaching out. He reached out through e-mail. He reached out with an umbrella. He reached out with an invite to treat Sei for helping. He reached out with a dinner invite. And unlike his partner, Sei responds.
For Sei, whose desire to talk keeps getting shut down by his partner, this invitation explicitly to talk is a lifeline. He always responds, taking any hint of Hiragawa reaching out to initiate an entire, probably way-too-honest conversation. After all, the hole is deep.
By the end of the episode, Hagiwara has fully descended into the underground thanks to our pregnant friend spilling the tea. In a bright environment with a lot of light no less (enlightenment I dare say?). He's reaches out to his partner in a final attempt and gets shut down. So he reaches out to Sei. And, Sei does what he always does. He responds. He welcomes someone joining him in the underground. At the end of the day, they both crave the intimacy this connection is providing. But as the storm glass predicts....rain is coming.
How did they fit that much meaty stuff in a 25 minute episode?!
#i don't know where this is going#but i'm here for it#i overthink everything#i could probably write three more essays on this episode#there was so much meta there#futtara doshaburi#when it rains it pours
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Happy New Year!! đ
If it's alright, could I request Loki Headcanons about a Shy Lover or Secret Admirer? I imagine something like that wouldn't stay secret for long, knowing Loki, but I love the idea of the Lover in question being flustered beyond belief at being found out đ
MARVEL RIVALS - LOKI LAUFEYSON With a Shy Secret Admirer Headcanons!
Note(s): I'm sorry this came out a bit late, college stressed me out so bad my body and mind did a factory reset. I'll be trying to finish the rest of my requests weekly.
"Oh?" Loki's eyes are light, something unusual for the trickster. Almost eager, they flick between you and the paper that's held loosely in his hand, the usual hint of amusement in his upturned lips. "You wrote these? Well, I can't say I'm not flattered, but you are aware I've been courting you for quite some time, yes?"
You and Loki would most likely know each other prior to you becoming his secret admirer, after all, he is a bit of a flirt and you're most likely one of many that he's charmed over the years. But, for him to accept your proposal, which is how I intend to write this as to avoid angst, he would need to reciprocate your feelings. In short, he'd probably be actively courting you while you do this.
It'd mostly be insignificant things, not killing you, maybe paying you a compliment every now and then, and maybe, just maybe, if he's feeling generous he'll find it in his heart to give you a gift. Typically it's jewellery, something that reflects him, gold with green jewels are his favourite. Necklaces are a no brainer, they're so easy to spot, and it's so easy to tell who it's from, too (You'll be lucky if he doesn't engrave his name on the damn thing).
Of course, he loves to tease you. It's so fun to see you squirm and try to hide away, even if he can't see the effect of the blood rushing there, he likes to hold a hand to your face every now and then to see if it's hot. One of his favourites is to whisper plans of mischief, and maybe try and get you to tag along in his next prank or attempt to steal the throne, it depends on his mood, really.
Infuriatingly, however, you don't seem to pick up on his obvious flirtations. He immediately decides that's an issue on your part, but he'll indulge you and give an extra flirty, witty remark every now and then. Wait- you're still not- oh you frustrate him endlessly! He's got half a mind to smite you, you know!
The thing is, Loki enjoys a good mystery and a thrilling hunt, but what he wants most of all is to be adored, worshiped, have thousands at his feet begging and pleading just for him to spare them a glance. So, when he starts getting little trinkets wrapped in bows, with papers written full of heartfelt devotion... Well, how can a God refuse such wonderful praise?
It's around that time of annoyance and pining, his stubbornness refusing to allow him to confess first, you must make the first move as it's obviously you who is obsessed with him, that he actually begins to receive your gifts. In such random places too, sometimes even tucked in the pocket of his clothes! Not that he doesn't admire the bravery to do such a thing.
At first he doesn't really look deep into it, he's content to find the very obviously placed gifts and doesn't care much for where they're found. As long as he's getting the attention he rightfully deserves, he doesn't care who it's from. Why should he need to know who loves him when he's being loved either way?
But, when he does want to find out this secret admirer's identity, perhaps in a ploy to make you jealous and confess, it's when he realises that it's you. The handwriting, the way of speaking, grammar, punctuation, and the nail in the coffin is when he catches you placing a note in his quarters while invisible.
This works out brilliantly.
Not only does it confirm in Loki's mind that you're utterly infatuated and obsessed with him, but it makes him believe that you were secretly aware of his courting all along. That you, given your shy nature, had done this to play into his trickster personality. He can't say he isn't impressed by your wits! (Someone please get him a reality check...)
Naturally, Loki plans something sweet yet embarrassing for his your confession, and despite his want for love and attention, he supposes that he'll make it a private affair. After all, he does want you to admit your love for him and giving you a panic attack would probably only drive you away.
The gardens are certainly beautiful this time of day, not bright enough to burn your eyes but not dark enough so you can't see, it's perfect. Not to mention quiet. Many people prefer to admire the gardens after their meals, either in the morning or in the night, but strangely never the evening, which leaves you by yourself. It's peaceful.
Yet the peace, as usual, is interrupted by a certain prince.
You turn around when you hear your name being called, your brows shooting upwards when you realise it's Loki. What could he need? Is he planning another prank? No matter, either way you're clearly involved. So, you wave a friendly hand and hope that you can ignore the sickly butterflies in your stomach that flutter harder when the sound of his shoes click closer and closer towards you.
"I want to speak with you." Loki hums, coming to a halt only a meter away from you.
You ask what he wants to speak with you about and he searches in his pocket for a moment until he finds a small piece of paper, holding it out in his palm almost like an offering. It looks familiar. Hesitant, you feel your fingers pinch a corner and take it for yourself, dread setting in your stomach as you realise. He figured it out.
When you look up sharply to explain, his face is inches from yours. The action causes your cheeks to get unbelievably hot, and even if the blood rushing to your face isn't visible, Loki knows you, he knows your tells. "I admire your worship, darling." He whispers, eyes narrowing as a sly grin grows on his lips. "But I would prefer it to be in person."
#fandom: marvel rivals#fandom: marvel#character: loki laufeyson#character: loki#relationship: romantic#reader: no pronouns#reader: gender neutral#marvel rivals x reader#marvel rivals x gn reader#marvel rivals headcanons#loki x reader#loki x gn reader#loki headcanons
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on my bike
PAIRING ⏠ghost rider!lee jeno x fem!reader (feat. yu jimin/karina)
TAGS ⏠fluff, action, romance, angst, hidden feelings, best friends to lovers au, marvel au, ghost rider au, superhero au, antihero jeno potentially, reader is actually a mutant named surge, but she doesn't know it yet, karina is basically emma frost, this is NOT canon to actual marvel lore lol, more inspired by comics than the movies, jeno is a mix between johnny blaze and danny ketch, wrote the word 'venegance' so many times im starting to believe jeno is batman actually
WARNINGS ⏠mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, jeno crashing out, stunts going wrong, and a fight scene
SUMMARY ⏠after a brutal attack, stunt motorcyclist lee jeno stumbles upon a cursed bike and becomes the ghost rider. now bound to the spirit of vengeance, he fights to control his hellish powers while you, his childhood best friend, fall under the influence of a powerful telepath. as your own abilities awaken and tensions ignite, one question remains: will you save each other or burn together?
WORD COUNT ⏠14.7k words
AUTHORâS NOTE ⏠for @sungbeam's action figures collab!!!!! tysm for letting me join, this was literally the first time i've ever participated in a collab... and it was so fun. definitely challenged myself here, i'm not used to writing super hero or such action-packed scenes so if it's bad i apologize lol. anyways title is inspired by purple kiss i am in love with them now actually.
PLAYLIST ⏠no roots - alice merton; on my bike - purple kiss; nightmare - halsey; highway to hell - ac/dc; play with fire - sam tinnesz, yacht money; bang bang bang - bigbang; million dollar baby - ava max; mad head love - kenshi yonezu; wanted dead or alive - bon jovi; the chain - fleetwood mac; house of memories - panic at the disco; hymn for the weekend - coldplay
âLEE JENO.â
you muttered under your breath, watching as the sound of a roaring motorcycle echoed through the streets of your city, a blur of black and chrome weaving recklessly through traffic. âOf course.â
The bell above the door jingled as Jeno strolled in, helmet in hand, his trademark smirk plastered across his annoyingly perfect face. His leather jacket was scuffed from what you could only assume was another unnecessary stunt, and his bleached white hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.
âGuess who just broke his own jump record,â he announced, sliding into the booth across from you.
âYou mean guess who just almost got himself killed,â you retorted, narrowing your eyes at him.
Jeno raised his hands in mock surrender. âRelax, Y/N. Itâs not like I landed on someoneâs house or anything.â
âNot this time,â you snapped, folding your arms. âSeriously, Jeno, you canât keep pulling this shit. Youâre going to hurt yourself. Or someone else.â
He rolled his eyes and leaned back, draping one arm casually over the seat. âWhatâs life without a little risk?â
âLife without you being the industryâs walking insurance liability?â you shot back. âSounds nice.â
For a second, his smirk faltered, but he quickly bounced back, leaning forward to snag a fry off your plate. âYou worry too much. Itâs cute, but unnecessary.â
âDonât call me cute,â you muttered, snatching your plate away before he could grab another fry. âAnd I wouldnât have to worry if you didnât make it your mission to stress me out every single day.â
âHey, if it makes you feel better, Iâm perfectly fine right now,â he said, his voice light but tinged with something defensive.
You gave him a pointed look, gesturing toward the fresh scrape on his arm. âWhat about that, then? Donât tell me thatâs from cooking. You never cook.â
Jeno glanced down at the scrape, shrugged, and smiled sheepishly. âFine, maybe Iâm a little scratched up.â
âScratched up doesnât even begin to cover it,â you muttered, your voice softening. âI donât know how much longer I can keep watching you do this to yourself, Jeno.â
His smile faded completely now. He suddenly shifted uncomfortably in his seat and grabbed his helmet. âLook, Y/N, I get it, okay? But this is who I am. You donât have to like it, but you donât have to stick around either.â
âThatâs not fair, and you know it,â you said, your voice cracking slightly. âYouâre my best friend. Iâm always going to stick around. But that doesnât mean Iâm just going to sit here and watch you destroy yourself.â
Jeno hesitated, the weight of your words settling in the space between you. âIâm fine,â he said, but the words lacked conviction. âYou donât have to worry about me.â
âYeah, well, too bad,â you replied, standing up and grabbing your jacket. âBecause I do. And one day, your luckâs going to run out, Jeno.â
The crowd at the high-stakes stunt show was massive. Rows of bleachers packed with spectators buzzed with anticipation. You sat near the front, hands gripping the edge of your seat, your stomach twisting in knots. Except it wasnât from excitement, but from anxiety.
Jeno was notorious for taking unnecessary risks, but tonight felt different. This wasnât just a local showcase; this was a high-profile event with reporters and big-shot sponsors. The stakes were higher, and so was the pressure.
Heâd even sworn he was âclean this time,â but you werenât convinced.
âLadies and gentlemen, get ready for the highlight of the evening!â the announcer boomed, his voice carrying over the speakers. âThe one, the onlyâLee Jeno!â
The roar of the crowd was deafening as Jeno rode into the arena, his sleek black motorcycle displayed under the spotlights. He raised one hand in acknowledgment of the cheers before revving up his engine, the rumble vibrating through the stands.
You exhaled sharply, muttering to yourself, âHe better not screw this up.â
âY/N!â Jenoâs voice rang out through his helmetâs mic, directly out of the speakers. He pointed at you, earning a cheer from the crowd. âThis oneâs for you!â
You rolled your eyes, your face heating up as you pulled your hands over your eyes. The spectators around you erupted into laughter and applause. âGreat,â you muttered. âNow Iâm part of the show.â
The announcer continued hyping up the crowd. âJeno will attempt a daring backflip over not one, not two, but three flaming trucks! A feat no rider has dared before!â
Your stomach sank. Flaming trucks? Three? You shot Jeno a warning glare as he revved the bike again, giving you a wink in response.
Oh weâre so fucked.
Unbeknownst to you or Jeno, a group of shadowy figures loitered near the equipment trucks at the edge of the arena. But they werenât here for the show. Instead, they were here for revenge. One of the men, a burly figure with a scar slicing through his brow, tightened his grip on a wrench.
âShowoff thinks he can cheat us and walk away?â he growled, âLetâs see him jump when his bike doesnât even make it halfway.â
The group moved swiftly, one of them sneaking into the mechanicsâ pit to tamper with Jenoâs ramp. Another slipped toward his bike, loosening key components. They didnât care about the collateral damage. This was to send a message.
Jeno revved his engine once more, signaling to the crew that he was ready. The crowd roared as he sped toward the first ramp, flames rippled against the sides of the trucks he was about to clear.
You leaned forward in your seat, heart pounding. âPlease donât die. Please donât die,â you muttered under your breath.
Jeno hit the ramp with precision, the bike soaring into the air like a black comet. The first flip was smooth, flawless even, and the crowd erupted in cheers.
But something went wrong on the descent.
The bike wobbled midair, tilting dangerously to the side. Jeno fought for control, but the tampered suspension buckled on impact with the second ramp. The motorcycle skidded, sparks flying as Jeno tumbled, his helmeted head slamming into the ground with a sickening thud.
The crowd gasped in unison, the cheers turning to horrified murmurs. You were on your feet in an instant, heart in your throat.
âJENO!â you screamed, scrambling down the bleachers toward the arena floor.
Before you could reach him, the saboteursâ plan spiraled even further out of control. The flames from the trucks flared, spreading to the hay bales that lined the arena. As you sprinted toward Jenoâs crumpled form, one of the burning bales exploded, sending debris flying.
You didnât even have time to react as a sharp piece of metal tore through the air, striking you across the side. Pain bloomed in your ribs, and you crumpled to the ground.
Dazed but conscious, Jeno pushed himself to his hands and knees, shaking off the stars in his vision. When his gaze landed on you lying motionless on the dirt, blood seeping into your shirt, something inside him snapped.
âNo, no, noâŠâ he muttered, dragging himself to his feet. His bike was destroyed, the flames were spreading, and you. You were hurt because of him.
Ignoring the chaos and his own injuries, Jeno stumbled toward you, scooping you into his arms. âStay with me, Y/N,â he whispered, his voice cracking. âPlease.â
He didnât know where to go, only that he had to get you help. Cradling your limp body, Jeno ran blindly, the roaring flames and chaos fading into the background. His arms ached from carrying you, your weight heavy but nothing compared to the crushing guilt that clawed at his chest. He glanced down at you, your face pale, a streak of blood running from your temple.
âYouâre gonna be fine. You hear me? Just fine.â he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling.Â
The junkyard loomed ahead, its twisted silhouettes of rusted cars and mangled scrap metal casting long shadows under the moonlight. The attackers had scattered once the chaos at the arena spiraled out of control, but Jeno wasnât about to risk being found. Not with you like this.
He stumbled into the junkyard, his knees nearly buckling as he reached what looked like the remnants of an old garage. The air was thick with the metallic tang of rust and oil. He carefully laid you down on an old tarp, brushing a strand of hair from your face with shaking fingers.
âOkay, okayâŠâ Jeno muttered, looking around frantically. âThink, Jeno. Think. I need toâneed to stop the bleeding.â
He tore a strip from his tattered shirt and pressed it against the wound on your side, and watched as your chest slightly rose up and down. Relief flickered in his chest. This meant you were still alive.Â
The makeshift bandage was quickly soaked through. âDammit,â he hissed, running a hand through his hair, smearing grease and sweat across his face. He needed help, but there was no one here. No one exceptâ
The motorcycle.
It caught his eye in the far corner of the garage, half-buried under a pile of scrap. Its frame was unlike anything heâd ever seen, sleek yet ancient, with intricate carvings etched into the metal. It seemed almost alive, faintly glowing with an otherworldly orange light that pulsed like a heartbeat.
âWhat theâŠ?â Jeno muttered, taking an unsteady step toward it. He couldnât explain it, but something about the bike drew him in. The air around it felt heavier, charged with an unnatural energy that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
He glanced back at you, lying unconscious, and then at the motorcycle. Desperation clouded his judgment. Maybe. Just maybe? It could help. He didnât know how or why, but the pull was undeniable.
Jeno reached out, his fingers hovering over the handlebars. The metal was warm, almost hot to the touch, and the glow intensified as if reacting to his presence.
âThis is insane,â he muttered, but his hand closed around the grip anyway.
The second his skin made contact, a searing pain shot through his arm, up his spine, and into his skull. He screamed, his knees giving out as an overwhelming heat consumed him. Flames erupted from the motorcycle, engulfing him in a fiery inferno that didnât burn but felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside.
Memories flashed before his eyes. Every reckless decision, every lie, every failure. The faces of those heâd hurt, including yours, swam in his vision. And then, a voice echoed in his head.
âLee Jeno.â
Jenoâs body convulsed as the fire intensified, his skin crawling with molten energy. When the flames subsided, he was no longer the same. His hands burned with chains of fire, and his eyes glowed a fierce, demonic orange. He looked down at himself, his reflection faintly visible in the bikeâs chrome. His face was a skull, wreathed in flames. The Spirit of Vengeance had awakened. Jeno was its vessel.
âMy new Ghost Rider. Your sins are heavy. But your vengeance will be greater.â
âNo,â Jeno whispered, his voice distorted, sounding like something almost inhuman. âWhatâŠwhat did you do to me?â
And then, Jeno heard the shouts of the attackers. They had followed him, closing in to finish what they started.
But they werenât ready for what they found.
Jeno stood, the chains in his hands igniting with blistering heat. The Spirit of Vengeance surged within him, and with it came a single, overpowering urge: punish the guilty.
The attackers froze as he stepped forward, his skeletal face illuminated by the flickering flames. âYou came for me,â Jeno growled, his voice echoing unnaturally. âNow youâll burn for it.â
He lashed out with the chains, each strike searing through metal and flesh alike. The air was filled with screams as the flames consumed the saboteurs, leaving them scorched and broken. Vehicles erupted in explosions, sending shards of scrap flying through the air as the hellfire spread uncontrollably.
When the last of the attackers fell, Jeno stood motionless amidst the chaos, the flames dancing across his body slowly beginning to recede. The roar of the Spirit dimmed, leaving an oppressive silence in its wake.
And then he saw you.
The sight of your unconscious form lying so still on the ground sent a jolt through him. The fire in his chest flickered, replaced by an overwhelming horror. He dropped the chains and stumbled to your side, his skeletal hands trembling as he reached for you.
âY/N,â he whispered, his voice raw and human once more. The flames that had raged across his body faded completely, leaving him kneeling in the dirt, cradling you as his normal face returned.
Tears stung his eyes as he pulled you close, his arms wrapping protectively around your limp body. The junkyard was silent again, save for the faint crackle of dying embers.
âWhat have I done?â Jeno whispered, his voice breaking as he pressed his forehead to yours. Even as the Rider, his mind. his heart. It all was still his. He couldnât lose you.
The sound of distant sirens jolted him from his thoughts. He knew that if he stayed the two of you would be questioned. He gently lifted you onto the back of the fiery motorcycle, the flames reaching your body but leaving you unharmed. The bike seemed to growl beneath him, its power thrumming in his veins, and for the first time, Jeno felt a strange sense of control over the chaos.
With a sharp kick, the motorcycle roared forward, flames streaking behind it as Jeno sped off into the night.Â
The steady beep of a heart monitor was the first thing you heard as you drifted back into consciousness. It was followed by the faint hum of fluorescent lights and the sterile, antiseptic smell of a hospital room. Your body felt heavy, and when you tried to shift, a sharp pain lanced through your side.
âEasy,â a soft voice said.
Your eyes fluttered open to find Jeno sitting beside your bed, looking utterly wrecked. His black hoodie was rumpled, his knuckles bruised and scraped. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his normally cocky demeanor was nowhere to be found. Instead, he looked worried for once in his life, like he was afraid you might disappear if he blinked.
âJeno.â you rasped, your throat dry.Â
Relief flooded his face as he leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the bed. âYouâre okay,â he breathed. âYouâre okay.â
âJeno.â you repeated again, your voice stronger now.Â
He hesitated, guilt flickering across his face. âThere was an accident at the show,â he began cautiously. âYouâŠyou got hurt. But youâre safe now. I got you out of there.â
The memories suddenly came rushing back. The flaming trucks, the explosion, the searing pain in your side. And thenâŠnothing.
Your heart rate monitor began to beep faster as anger bubbled to the surface. âThe show,â you said bitterly. âOf course. Because you just had to pull another one of your stunts.â
âY/N, it wasnâtââ
âDonât,â you cut him off, your voice sharp. âDonât you dare try to defend yourself right now. I almost died, Jeno.â
His shoulders sagged, his gaze dropping to the floor. âI know,â he said quietly. âAnd Iâm so sorry. If I could take it backââ
âBut you canât, can you?â you snapped, your hands pointed at him accusedly. âYou canât take it back, Jeno. Because this is what you do. You push and you push until someone gets hurt, and this time, that someone was me.â
âI didnât mean for this to happen,â he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
âThatâs the problem,â you shot back. âYou never mean for it to happen, but it always does. And Iâm the one who has to pick up the broken pieces.â
Jeno flinched, like your words had physically struck him. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. âI canât do this anymore, Jeno. I canât keep watching you destroy yourself with drugs and alcohol, while dragging everyone else down with you.â
âIâm trying to change,â he said desperately, leaning forward. âI swear, Y/N. Iâm done with all of it, theâŠeverything. Iâll stop.â
âYou always say that,â you muttered bitterly, turning your head away. âBut nothing ever changes.â
The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the faint beep of the heart monitor.
âIâll make it right,â Jeno said after a long pause, his voice trembling. âI donât know how yet, but I will. I promise.â
You didnât respond. You couldnât. The pain in your side was nothing compared to the ache in your chest. You couldnât even bring yourself to look at him as he slowly stood and stepped back.
âIâll let you rest,â he said quietly. âButâŠIâm not giving up on us, Y/N. Iâll prove to you that I can be better.â
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the sterile, too-quiet room.
Sometimes Jenoâs promises were often just as hollow as the man who made them.
The roar of the motorcycle echoed through the empty streets as it skidded to a halt in the middle of an empty alley. Jeno ripped off his helmet, his chest heaving as he stumbled away from the bike. The orange glow of his eyes dimmed, leaving him in the dim light of a flickering street lamp.
âWhat the hell is happening to me?â he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair. His reflection stared back at him in a cracked windowâhuman again, but the memory of his skeletal visage haunted him.
This wasnât the first night heâd changed. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt itâthe fire in his veins, the overwhelming urge to hunt, to punish. It wasnât just a feeling; it was a presence. Some demon was inside him, whispering in his mind, urging him to give in.
âThey deserve to burn.â
The voice was deep and guttural. It slithered through his thoughts like a venomous snake, tightening its hold every time he tried to ignore it.
âIâm not listening to you,â Jeno growled, gripping his head as the voice chuckled darkly.
âYou canât silence me, Jeno. Youâre mine now. Weâre one.â
The demon never introduced itself. It didnât need to. Jeno already knew as soon as he touched that damn motorcycle. Zarathos. The Spirit of Vengeance. The demon that had bound itself to his soul, using his body as a vessel.
Jeno clenched his fists, the faint glow of hellfire flickering across his knuckles. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. âI didnât ask for this,â he said through gritted teeth. âIâm not a killer.â
âBut you are a sinner,â Zarathos hissed. âAnd sinners punish sinners. The world is full of filth, and we will cleanse it.â
âNo,â Jeno snapped, his voice echoing in the empty alley. âIâm not your executioner.â
The demonâs laughter rang in his head, low and mocking. âYou say that now. But you felt it, didnât you? The thrill? The power? The fire in your blood when you burned them? You enjoyed it.â
Jenoâs stomach churned at the memory of the attackers writhing in agony, the fire consuming them. He hadnât wanted to hurt themâat least, not like that. But Zarathos was right about one thing: the power was intoxicating. And that terrified him.
He slammed his fist into the brick wall, leaving a charred dent in the crumbling stone. âYouâre not in control,â he growled. âI am.â
âFor now.â
By day, Jeno tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy. He performed his stunts, practiced at the arena, and plastered on a smile for his fans. But every time he climbed onto a bike, the fire inside him stirred, eager to be unleashed.
It was always worse at night.
Jeno stood on the rooftop of a dilapidated building, the city sprawled out below him like a labyrinth of shadows and flickering lights. The Spirit of Vengeance buzzed in his chest, pulling him toward something or someone.
He saw the scene before he heard it: a man in an alleyway, grabbing a young woman by the wrist. She screamed, struggling to pull away as the man loomed over her, a knife glinting in his hand.
Jenoâs vision blurred, his body moving on autopilot. The flames ignited before he even touched the bike, and when the Ghost Rider landed in the alley, the ground cracked beneath the weight of his fiery presence.
The man froze, his eyes wide with terror as the skeletal figure loomed over him.Â
âYou,â Jeno growled, his voice layered with Zarathosâ demonic timbre. âYou prey on the innocent. What do you think you deserve?â
The man dropped the knife, stumbling backward. âIïżœïżœïżœI didnât mean toâplease, donât hurt me!â
But the Spirit of Vengeance didnât care for apologies. The chains in Jenoâs hands ignited, wrapping around the man and lifting him off the ground.
âStop,â Jeno muttered, his human voice fighting to break through. âHeâs not worth it.â
âHeâs guilty,â Zarathos snarled. âAnd guilt demands punishment.â
The man screamed as the chains tightened, the hellfire scorching his skin. Jenoâs hands trembled, his skull burning brighter as he fought to regain control.
âHeâs human,â Jeno argued. âI wonât kill him.â
The demon roared in frustration but relented, the chains loosening just enough to drop the man to the ground. The would-be attacker scrambled to his feet and ran, his screams fading into the distance.
Jeno stood in the alley, the flames around him slowly fading. He turned to the woman, who was staring at him with equal parts fear and gratitude.
âGo home,â he said gruffly, his voice still tinged with the Riderâs growl.
She nodded quickly, thanking him and disappearing into the night.
When the alley was silent again, Jeno collapsed against the wall, his human form returning. He buried his face in his hands, his body trembling.
âYou see?â Zarathos sneered. âYou canât stop me forever. And soon, you wonât want to.â
Jeno closed his eyes, the weight of the demonâs presence pressing down on him. He didnât know how long he could keep fighting. But for now, he had to try.
The neon glow of the gas station sign flickered in and out, bathing the parking lot in harsh, artificial light. Jeno leaned against his motorcycle, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. His hoodie was pulled low over his face, but anyone who looked close enough would see the cracks in his façadeâthe trembling hands, the bloodshot eyes, the faint glow that threatened to seep from his skin if he let his guard down.
The whiskey burned his throat, but not nearly as much as the fire that roared in his chest every night. Zarathos was relentless, clawing at the edges of his sanity, and the only way Jeno could silence him was by drowning himself in the haze of alcohol and pills.
âJust a little longer,â he muttered to himself, taking another swig. âJust until I figure this out.â
The lie tasted bitter, but it was easier to believe than the truth. He was losing control.
The next morning, you found him slumped over in his garage, reeking of smoke and booze. You hadnât heard from him since you were discharged from the hospital, so you wanted to at least check in on him. But you werenât pleased with what you saw. So much for promising change.Â
âJeno,â you said sharply, crossing your arms as you stood in the doorway.
He stirred, groaning as he lifted his head. âY/N? What are you doing here?â
âI should be asking you that,â you shot back. âWhy arenât you at practice? Or, I donât know, trying to clean up your mess for once?â
He winced at your words, sitting up and rubbing his temples. âNot now, okay? Iâve got a headache that makes me want to kill myself right now.â
You scoffed, stepping closer and yanking the bottle out of his hand. âAre you serious right now? This is what youâre doing with your time? Drinking yourself into oblivion while Iâm out here trying to recover from almost dying?â
âIâm trying to deal with it!â Jeno snapped, his voice louder than he intended. He stood, swaying slightly, his eyes bloodshot and tired. âYou think this is easy for me? You think I donât hate myself for what happened to you?â
âThen stop making it worse!â you shot back, your voice rising to match his. âYouâre spiraling, Jeno, and youâre not fighting this addiction at all.â
âI didnât ask for this!â he shouted, his voice cracking.Â
The raw emotion in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
Jeno exhaled shakily, running a hand through his messy hair. âI didnât ask for any of this,â he said quietly. âBut Iâm trying. I swear Iâm trying.â
You shook your head, your anger softening but not disappearing. âIf this is your idea of trying, Jeno, then youâre failing.â
As you turned to leave, something stopped you. A memory from the news. Whispers of a âfiery skeletonâ that had been spotted taking down criminals in the dead of night. You hesitated, glancing over your shoulder.
âJeno,â you said cautiously. âYouâve been out a lot at night. You wouldnât happen to know or run into that âfire guyâ people are talking about, would you?â
His entire body stiffened, his back turned to you. He didnât answer right away, but the silence was damning. â...No.â
âJeno,â you pressed, stepping closer. âWhatâs going on? What arenât you telling me?â
âItâs nothing,â he muttered, his voice strained. âJustâŠforget about it, okay?â
But you didnât believe him. Not for a second.
âJeno,â you said again, your voice soft but firm. âLook at me.â
He didnât move.
âJeno, look at me,â you repeated, more insistent this time.
Finally, he turned, and for the briefest moment, you swore you saw itâa faint glow in his eyes, like embers dying out. Your stomach twisted, a mix of fear and concern swirling in your chest.
âWhat happened to you?â you whispered, your voice barely audible.
Jeno shook his head, stepping back. âYou donât want to know,â he said quietly.
âYes, I do,â you insisted. âIâve known you my whole life, Jeno. Iâve stood by you through everything. Donât shut me out now.â
But he just shook his head again, grabbing his helmet and heading for the door. âI canât,â he said, his voice hollow. âIâm sorry, Y/N.â
And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the dimly lit garage, more confused and worried than ever before.
So you needed a change of pace. If Jeno wanted to shut you out, then maybe you could use your time to focus on yourself more.Â
You found yourself in your favorite cafe. The snug little store was warm, the scent of roasted coffee beans wrapping around you like a comforting hug. You were halfway through your drink, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, when the chair across from you was pulled out.
âMind if I join you?â
You looked up, startled, to see a strikingly beautiful woman with an air of effortless confidence. Platinum blonde hair framed her sharp, elegant features, and her icy blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. Her tailored white coat and knee-high boots screamed sophistication, making you suddenly self-conscious of the oversized hoodie and jeans youâd thrown on.
âUhâŠsure?â you replied hesitantly, gesturing to the chair.
She smiled, setting down her drink with precision. âI hope Iâm not intruding. You looked like you could use some company.â
You raised an eyebrow. âDo I?â
She tilted her head, studying you like you were an interesting puzzle. âCall it intuition.â
âI guess youâre not wrong,â you admitted, leaning back in your chair. âItâs beenâŠa rough few weeks.â
âIâm Karina,â she said smoothly, extending a hand.
âY/N,â you replied, shaking it. Her grip was cool and firm, her smile almost too perfect.
âSo, Y/N,â Karina said, resting her chin on her hand. âWhatâs been weighing on you? Iâm a great listener.â
You hesitated. Something about her was disarming, almost magnetic. Before you could stop yourself, the words started spilling out. âItâsâŠcomplicated. Letâs just say someone I care about is making it really hard to keep caring about them.â
Karina nodded sympathetically, her expression never wavering. âThe burden of loyalty. Itâs a heavy one, isnât it? Is this about a man?â
âYeah,â you said, surprised by how much her words resonated. âIâve known him forever, but latelyâŠI donât even recognize him anymore. Heâs hiding something, and itâs tearing us apart.â
Karina sipped her drink, her gaze never leaving yours. âSometimes, people hide because theyâre afraid. Afraid of being judged, or rejected. But that doesnât excuse them from the hurt they cause.â
You blinked, caught off guard by how accurately sheâd summed up your feelings. âExactly,â you said quietly.
âI know itâs not my place,â Karina continued, her tone gentle, âbut maybe you need to take a step back. Focus on yourself for a while. You canât save someone who doesnât want to be saved.â
Her harsh words settled over you, surprised at her directness. But it was comforting to hear such honesty for once.
âI was thinking of it, but I donât want to lose him either.â you admitted.
Karinaâs smile widened just a fraction. âWell, if you ever need someone to talk to, other than him, Iâm here.â She slid a sleek, white business card across the table. âCall me anytime.â
You picked up the card, turning it over in your hands. There was no title, no addressâjust her name and a number embossed in silver.
âThanks,â you said, tucking it into your pocket.
âDonât mention it,â Karina said, standing gracefully. âTake care of yourself, Y/N. You deserve it.â
Over the next few days, Karina became a fixture in your life. Sheâd text you to check in, send little messages of encouragement, and even invite you out for coffee or dinner.
At first, you were wary. People didnât just waltz into your life like this without a reason. But Karina was warm, attentive, and had an uncanny ability to say exactly what you needed to hear. Plus, she was looking for friends in the city too since she had just moved here.Â
âSo, whatâs the full deal with this guy?â she asked one evening over dinner, sipping a glass of wine. âThe one whoâs been giving you all this grief.â
âHis name is Lee Jeno,â you said reluctantly. âHeâs myâŠwell, weâve been friends since we were kids. But heâs got issues. Big ones.â
âOh damn. The stunt biker guy.â Karina raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. âIssues like âhe forgot your birthday,â or issues like âheâs a raging alcoholic or drug addict or some other addictionâ?â
You laughed, though it was tinged with unease. âCloser to the second one, honestly. Well, heâs always struggled with it. Yet, heâs been acting so weird lately. Disappearing at night, avoiding my questions. And sometimes, when I look at him, itâs like heâs not even Jeno anymore.â
Karina leaned forward, her expression unreadable. âAnd youâre sure itâs just him trying to hide his addiction? NothingâŠbigger going on?â
The question caught you off guard. âWhat do you mean?â
âOh, nothing,â Karina said breezily, waving a hand. âJust that sometimes, people go through changes. Big changes. Ones they donât know how to explain. And sometimes, it takes someone else to help them see their true potential.â
You frowned, her words stirring something deep inside you. âI donât know. Jenoâs not exactly the âask for helpâ type.â
Karinaâs smile turned enigmatic, her blue eyes practically glowing. âMaybe not. But some people just need the right nudge. And who better to do that than you?â
There was something in her tone, something that made your skin prickle. But before you could dwell on it, Karina raised her glass in a toast.
âTo new beginnings,â she said, her voice smooth as silk.
You hesitated, then clinked your glass against hers. âTo new beginnings.â
As you drank, you couldnât shake the feeling that Karina knew more about your life and Jenoâs than maybe she was letting on.
The opulent room was bathed in shadows, the flickering light of a chandelier casting jagged shapes on the polished mahogany walls. Karina stood at the center of the large, round table, her white ensemble a stark contrast against the roomâs dark and decadent decor. Around her sat the upper echelon of the Hellfire Club, an underground organization of mutants with a reputation for ruthlessness and manipulation.
âKarina,â a deep, commanding voice said, breaking the silence. It belonged to the Black King, the leader of the group, whose piercing gaze bore into her. âMy dearest White Queen. Youâve been unusually proactive lately. Care to share whatâs captured your attention?â
Karina smiled coolly, folding her hands in front of her. âIâve found somethingâor rather, someoneâof immense potential.â
The Black Queen, a woman with sharp features and an even sharper tongue, leaned forward with an arched brow. âDo tell. Potential isnât exactly rare these days. Why is this someone worth our time?â
Karina stepped closer to the table, her heels clicking against the marble floor. âHer name is Y/N. Sheâs a baseline human. Or so she thinks. Sheâs yet to manifest her mutant abilities.â
She paused, letting the words sink in before continuing. âHer energy isâŠraw, untapped, but powerful. Iâve felt it. Itâs dormant now, but when it awakens, it will rival even the strongest of us. Iâm surprised itâs taking her so long to manifest, but thatâs what makes it so powerful.â
The Black King steepled his fingers, his expression unreadable. âAnd what makes you so certain sheâs worth the effort? If her powers havenât manifested yet, thereâs no guarantee they ever will.â
Karina tilted her head, a hint of amusement in her smile. âOh, they will. Iâve already seen the signsâsubtle as they are. Her emotions are volatile, and sheâs drawn to chaos like a moth to flame. Itâs only a matter of time before the spark ignites.â
The Black Queenâs lips curved into a smirk. âInteresting. And what do you propose we do with her once this âsparkâ ignites?â
Karinaâs smile turned predatory, her blue eyes gleaming. âWe guide her. Shape her. Iâm sensing some crazy electrical forces. Imagine what we could accomplish with her power under our control.â
âAnd if she refuses?â the Black King asked, his tone cold and measured.
Karinaâs expression didnât falter. âThen we ensure she has no choice. After all, loyalty is just another form of control. And Iâve already begun earning hers.â
A murmur rippled through the room as the other members exchanged intrigued glances.
The Black King leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. âYouâre playing a dangerous game, Karina. But if you can deliver on your promises, the rewards will be worth the risk.â
âI always deliver,â Karina said smoothly.
The Black Queen raised her glass, the golden liquid catching the light. âThen hereâs to your little pet project. Letâs hope sheâs everything you claim she is.â
Karina raised her own glass in return, her smile never wavering.Â
âOh, she will be.â
Jeno stood outside the cafĂ©, arms crossed and jaw tight as he watched through the window. There you were, sitting across from Karina again, laughing at something sheâd said. The way you leaned in, the way she smiled that calculated, flawless smileâit all set his teeth on edge.
He clenched his fists, the faint flicker of flames threatening to ignite beneath his skin. Zarathos stirred in the back of his mind, growling low like an animal sensing danger.
âSheâs not who she seems,â the demon whispered, its voice grating like embers crackling.
Jeno didnât need Zarathos to tell him that. Heâd felt it the moment heâd laid eyes on Karina. Something about her was too perfect, too polished. And the way sheâd latched onto you so quickly? It wasnât right.
He waited until Karina had left before stepping inside. You looked up, surprised to see him, but your expression quickly shifted to irritation.
âWhat are you doing here?â you asked, your tone defensive.
Jeno didnât answer right away, pulling up a chair and sitting across from you. His leather jacket creaked as he leaned forward, his dark eyes searching yours. âWe need to talk.â
You sighed, already bracing yourself. âIf this is about Karinaââ
âIt is about her,â he cut in, his voice firm. âY/N, you donât know her. Not really.â
âAnd you do?â you shot back, crossing your arms.
âI donât need to,â he said, his tone rising. âSomething about her is off. I can feel it.â
You rolled your eyes, exasperated. âOh, great. Now weâre relying on your âfeelingsâ to judge people? Like your intuition ever worked in the first place. Iâm lucky to be alive right now.â
Jenoâs jaw tightened. âIâm serious, Y/N. Sheâs not who she says she is. People donât just waltz into your life and start playing therapist out of the goodness of their hearts.â
âMaybe she actually cares,â you snapped. âUnlike someone who disappears for days at a time without a word and comes back smelling like smoke and regret.â
Jeno flinched at your words, but he pushed forward. âIâm not perfect, okay? But I know when someoneâs trouble. And Karina? Sheâs got âtroubleâ written all over her.â
âWhy do you even care?â you demanded, your voice rising. âYou donât get to swoop in and play the hero after everything thatâs happened. I donât need your permission to make new friends.â
Jeno looked at you, his expression a mix of frustration and something softerâhurt, maybe. âI care because I donât want you to get hurt. Again.â
For a moment, you almost softened. Almost.
But then you thought about Karina. How she listened, how she didnât judge you, how she made you feel seen in a way Jeno hadnât in months.
âYou donât get to tell me who I can and canât trust,â you said coldly. âKarinaâs been more of a friend to me lately than you have.â
Jeno stared at you, his lips pressed into a thin line. âYouâre making a mistake,â he said quietly.
âThen itâs my mistake to make,â you shot back.
He stood, his chair scraping against the floor as he shoved it back. âFine,â he muttered, turning to leave. âBut donât say I didnât warn you.â
Later that evening, you met Karina at her apartment. A sleek, modern space with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. God, you were poor as hell. She greeted you with a warm smile, handing you a glass of wine as you settled onto her plush couch.
âYou seem tense,â she noted, sitting gracefully across from you.
âJust had another fight with Jeno,â you admitted, swirling the wine in your glass. âHeâs convinced youâre some kind ofâŠvillain or something.â
Karina chuckled, the sound light and melodic. âHe doesnât trust me?â
âNot even a little,â you said, shaking your head. âItâs like heâs looking for reasons to push me away.â
Karina reached out, placing a hand over yours. Her touch was cool and comforting. âSometimes people lash out because theyâre afraid. Fear can make them see threats where there are none.â
You sighed, leaning back. âI just donât get it. Why canât he see that youâre trying to help me?â
Karinaâs expression softened, but there was a flicker of something behind her eyesâsomething calculated. âItâs because he doesnât understand you the way I do. Youâre special, Y/N. More than you realize.â
You frowned, her words catching you off guard. âSpecial? What do you mean?â
Karina smiled enigmatically, her fingers brushing against yours. âYouâll see. In time.â
Her words left a lingering unease in your chest, but you pushed it aside. Karina had been nothing but kind to you. Jeno didnât know what he was talking about.
Jeno leaned against the wall of his garage, staring blankly at the ground. Zarathos growled in the back of his mind, restless and impatient.
âYou should have burned her,â the demon hissed.
Jeno closed his eyes, his hands balling into fists. âShut up.â
âSheâs manipulating her. The girl you care for. Canât you feel it?â
Jenoâs jaw clenched. He didnât need Zarathos to tell him that. But what could he do? You werenât listening to him, and every time he tried to warn you, it only pushed you further away.
âThen stop warning her,â Zarathos said, his voice low and menacing. âAnd show her what that woman truly is.â
Jeno opened his eyes, the flames flickering faintly in his irises. For once, he found himself agreeing with the demon.Â
âYouâre finally listening,â Zarathos hissed, its voice echoing in Jenoâs head.
âDonât get used to it,â Jeno muttered, gripping the handlebars of the bike. âI didnât ask for you, and Iâm not letting you run the show.â
The Spirit of Vengeance laughed, a dark, grating sound that sent chills down Jenoâs spine. âYou think you can control me, boy? Youâre nothing without me.â
Jeno scowled, the flames creeping up his arms flaring brighter in response to his frustration. âYou donât get it, do you? Iâm not doing this for you. Iâm doing this for her.â
âAh, the girl,â Zarathos sneered. âYou think sheâll forgive you? That sheâll see you as anything but a monster?â
âShe will,â Jeno said firmly, his voice steady despite the doubt gnawing at him. âBut first, I need to figure out how to use thisâŠwhatever this is.â
Zarathos growled. âVengeance isnât a tool, boy. Itâs a purpose. A fire that consumes everything in its path.â
âYeah, well, Iâm not here to burn the world down,â Jeno snapped. âIâm here to protect it.â
The Spirit laughed again, its voice dripping with disdain. âWeâll see how long that lasts.â
Determined to understand his new abilities, Jeno spent every spare moment testing the limits of his powers. He discovered that the flames responded to his emotions, roaring to life when he was angry or scared and flickering out when he calmed himself.
One night, he stood in the middle of an abandoned road, the cursed motorcycle idling beside him. He took a deep breath, focusing on the growing warmth in his chest, and held out his hand. A whip of fire erupted from his palm, coiling and snapping like a living thing.
âNot bad,â he muttered to himself, extinguishing the whip with a flick of his wrist.
But every small victory was overshadowed by the constant presence of Zarathos. The Spiritâs voice was a relentless whisper in his mind, urging him to give in, to embrace the fire and let it consume him.
âWhy fight it?â Zarathos taunted. âYouâve felt it, havenât you? The power. The thrill.â
Jeno ignored the voice, climbing onto the motorcycle and revving the engine. The flames along its frame flared to life, illuminating the darkness around him.
âIâm not your puppet,â he muttered, tightening his grip on the handlebars.
âWeâll see,â the Spirit replied, its laughter echoing in his ears as he sped down the road.
One evening, while patrolling the outskirts of town, Jeno stumbled upon a group of men mugging an elderly woman in an alley. His first instinct was to intervene, but as the flames began to crawl up his arms, Zarathosâ voice returned, stronger than ever.
âPunish them,â it hissed. âMake them suffer.â
Jeno hesitated, his heart pounding. The men turned to face him, their eyes widening in fear as they took in his glowing eyes and the flames licking at his jacket.
âHey, man, we donât want any trouble,â one of them stammered, backing away.
Jeno clenched his fists, the fire burning hotter. Zarathos was screaming in his mind now, urging him to unleash his fury.
âThey deserve it!â the Spirit roared. âTheyâre guilty!â
But as Jeno looked at the terrified men, he saw something elseâfear. Regret. They werenât innocent, but they werenât beyond saving, either.
âNo,â Jeno said aloud, his voice steady. âNot like this.â
He extinguished the flames, stepping forward and forcing the men to flee with nothing more than his presence. The elderly woman thanked him tearfully, but as he walked away, the weight of Zarathosâ disapproval settled over him like a storm cloud.
âYouâre weak,â the Spirit snarled. âOne day, youâll see. Mercy has no place in vengeance.â
âMaybe not,â Jeno muttered, mounting his motorcycle. âBut Iâm not just vengeance. Iâm also me.â
The more Jeno used his powers, the more he began to notice strange connectionsâpatterns he couldnât ignore. The criminals he encountered often mentioned a name in hushed tones: Karina.
One night, he followed a lead to an abandoned warehouse, where he found a cache of high-tech weapons and equipment. The markings on the crates were unmistakable. This wasnât ordinary crime.
âSheâs not just some innocent bystander,â Jeno muttered, running a hand through his hair.
âYouâre finally catching on,â Zarathos sneered. âSheâs more dangerous than you know. And she has her sights set on your girl.â
Jenoâs heart sank. He didnât want to believe it, but the evidence was piling up. Karina wasnât who she seemed, and if she was connected to you, that meant you were in more danger than you realized.
He revved his motorcycle, the flames roaring to life. âNot on my watch,â he muttered, speeding off into the night.
The fire burned hotter now, fueled by a new determination. Jeno wasnât just fighting to control the Spirit of Vengeance anymore. He was fighting to save you.
You sat in Karinaâs sleek, modern apartment, the dim lighting casting long shadows on the pristine walls. A strange tension filled the room. Karinaâs usually serene demeanor had shifted; there was an intensity in her gaze, something calculating behind her sharp blue eyes.
âYouâve felt it, havenât you?â Karina asked, her voice soft yet commanding.
âFelt what?â you asked, frowning as you set your cup of tea on the table.
âThat spark,â she said, leaning forward, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. âThe moments when your emotions run highâfear, anger, painâand something stirs inside you. Something you canât explain.â
You blinked, your pulse quickening. You had felt somethingâfleeting moments of electric energy coursing through your body, like static building up but never quite releasing. But youâd written it off as stress or adrenaline.
âHow do you know about that?â you asked warily.
Karina smiled, a knowing, almost maternal expression crossing her face. âBecause Iâve seen it before. I know what you are, Y/N.â
Your throat tightened. âWhat I am? You make it sound like Iâm not a human.â
âYouâre not just human,â she said, her tone dripping with certainty. âYouâre a mutant.â
The word hung in the air, heavy and charged. You stared at her, the weight of her statement pressing down on you. âThatâs not⊠Iâm notâŠâ
âYou are,â Karina interrupted gently. âItâs why youâve always felt different, why strange things happen around you when youâre upset. Itâs your gift, Y/N. Your power.â
Your mind raced, flashes of unexplained incidents from your past bubbling to the surface: the lights flickering during arguments, the faint hum of electricity in your veins when you were scared.Â
A mutant? But mutants were both feared and loved by society. Oh god, what would Jeno think?
âI⊠I donât know what to say,â you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Karina reached out, placing a hand on yours. âYou donât have to say anything. I know how overwhelming this must be, but youâre not alone. You donât have to go through this by yourself.â
You looked up at her, tears pricking your eyes. âWhat am I supposed to do? I donât even know how to control it.â
âThatâs where I come in,â Karina said smoothly. âI can help you. Iâve been where you are, Y/N. I know what itâs like to feel lost, to feel like the world doesnât understand you. But I do.â
Her words were like a lifeline, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of hope. But then a small voice in the back of your mindâJenoâs voiceâechoed faintly: Sheâs not who she says she is.
You shook your head, brushing the thought away. Karina had been nothing but kind to you. Jeno didnât understand.
Karina led you into a hidden room within her apartment, the walls lined with advanced tech and holographic screens displaying maps, dossiers, and data that you couldnât begin to comprehend.
âWhat is all this?â you asked, glancing around in awe.
âThis,â Karina said, gesturing to the room with a flourish, âis part of something much bigger. A movement, if you will. The Hellfire Club.â
You turned to her, confusion etched across your face. âThe Hellfire Club? What is that?â
âWeâre an organization dedicated to ensuring mutantkind rises to its rightful place in the world,â Karina explained, her voice laced with passion. âFor too long, mutants have been oppressed, hunted, and treated as less than human. But weâre done hiding. Weâre done being afraid.â
Her words stirred something in youâa mix of fear and curiosity. âWhat does this have to do with me?â
Karina stepped closer, her gaze piercing. âEverything. Your powers, Y/Nâtheyâre extraordinary. Once theyâre fully awakened, youâll be capable of things most mutants can only dream of. But you need guidance. Training. And thatâs what Iâm offering you.â
You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. âI donât know if I can do this. I didnât ask for any of this.â
âNone of us did,â Karina said, her voice softening. âBut we donât get to choose what we are. We can only choose how we use it. And you, Y/N, have the potential to change everything.â
She paused, letting her words sink in before adding, âBut to do that, you have to let go of your fear. You have to embrace who you are. And you have to trust me.â
There was something magnetic about her, something that made you want to believe every word she said. But deep down, a seed of doubt began to take root.
âWhatâs the catch?â you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
Karina smiled, her expression unreadable. âNo catch, my dear. Only the promise of a future where you can be freeâwhere we can all be free.â
You hesitated, torn between the comfort of her words and the nagging feeling in your gut. âI need time to think.â
âOf course,â Karina said smoothly. âTake all the time you need. But remember, Y/N. Your power is a gift. Donât let anyone convince you otherwise.â
As you left her apartment that night, your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. You wanted to believe her, to trust her, but something about her intensity unsettled you.
And as you walked into the cool night air, you couldnât shake the feeling that you were standing at the edge of something much larger and much more dangerous than youâd ever imagined.
Jeno sat on the curb outside your apartment, his head in his hands, shoulders slumped under the weight of exhaustion and regret. His jacket was torn, his knuckles bloodied from a fight he barely remembered, and the faint smell of whiskey lingered on his breath. He stared blankly at the empty bottle in his lap, the flames of his inner turmoil simmering just beneath the surface. The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that made his thoughts louder, more unbearable.
When you stepped outside, startled to find him there in the dead of night, his eyes met yours. They were glassy, but not from the alcohol. There was something raw and vulnerable in them, something you hadnât seen in a long time. For a moment, you hesitated, unsure whether to approach him or turn back inside. But the sight of himâbroken, disheveled, and so unlike the confident Jeno youâd always knownâpulled you forward.
âJeno?â you said cautiously, stepping closer. The cold night air bit at your skin, but the tension between you was far more chilling.
He looked up, his eyes hollow yet filled with a desperation that made your chest tighten. âY/N,â he croaked, his voice hoarse. He stood, swaying slightly, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him. âIâI needed to see you.â
Your heart clenched at the sight of him. He looked like a ghost of the man you once knew, his charm buried beneath layers of pain and self-destruction. âItâs the middle of the night,â you said, crossing your arms, trying to shield yourself from the emotions threatening to spill over. âYou canât just show up like this.â
âI know,â he said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. âI know Iâm a mess. But Iââ He paused, his voice cracking. âI donât know what to do anymore.â
You frowned, torn between frustration and concern. âWhat do you mean?â
Jenoâs hands trembled as he gripped the bottle tighter, then hurled it across the street. It shattered against the pavement, the sound cutting through the stillness like a scream. âThis!â he shouted, gesturing wildly to himself. âIâm losing control, Y/N! Of everything. Of my powers. Of⊠of me.â
You stepped back, startled by the outburst. âJeno, calm downââ
âI canât!â he yelled, his voice breaking. âIâve tried. God, Iâve tried. But itâs like Iâm fighting this thing inside me, and I donât know how much longer I can keep it at bay.â
His hands ignited for a split second, flames licking at his skin before fizzling out. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The sight of the fireâreal, tangible fireâcoming from his hands was impossible to process. Your mind raced, trying to make sense of what youâd just seen. âJeno⊠what was that?â you whispered, your voice trembling.
He clenched his fists, shaking his head as if trying to push the Spiritâs voice out of his mind. âItâs me,â he said bitterly. âOr⊠itâs not me. I donât even know anymore.â He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and shame. âIâm not just some messed-up stunt rider, Y/N. Iâm⊠Iâm the Ghost Rider.â
The words hung in the air, heavy and surreal. Your mind reeled, struggling to reconcile the Jeno you knew with the stories youâd heard about the fiery vigilante haunting the city. âThe Ghost Rider?â you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. âThatâs⊠thatâs impossible.â
âI wish it was,â he said, his voice hollow. âBut itâs real. The flames, the power, the voice in my headâitâs all real. And itâs killing me, Y/N. Every time I transform, it feels like Iâm burning from the inside out. And the things Iâve done⊠the people Iâve hurtâŠâ He trailed off, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair again. âIâm a monster.â
Your heart ached at the pain in his voice, but the shock of his confession kept you rooted to the spot. âWhy didnât you tell me?â you asked, your voice rising. âAll this time, youâve been dealing with this alone, and you didnât think to tell me?â
âBecause I didnât want you to see me like this!â he shouted, his voice cracking. âI didnât want you to look at me and see a monster. Youâre the one person who still sees something good in me, and I couldnât risk losing that.â
Tears welled in your eyes as his words hit you. âJeno, you donât have to do this alone. You donât have to carry this by yourself.â
âAnd then thereâs you,â he said, his voice softer now, filled with anguish. âYouâre the one thing. The only thing that makes me want to be better. But Iâm screwing that up too, arenât I?â
âJenoâŠâ You didnât know what to say, the weight of his words leaving you stunned. Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Shock, fear, anger, and an overwhelming sadness for the man standing in front of you.
He stepped closer, his eyes searching yours desperately. âI canât stand the thought of losing you. Not to her. Not to Karina.â
You stiffened at the mention of her name. âThis again? Jeno, I told youâKarinaâs helping me. She understands me in a way you donât. Sheââ
âSheâs using you!â Jeno snapped, his voice rising. âYou think she cares about you? Sheâs manipulating you, Y/N. Iâve seen it. I feel it.â
âYou donât know her,â you shot back, anger flaring in your chest. âYou donât know what Iâve been through or what itâs like to feel so out of control. Karina does.â
âAnd I donât?â Jeno asked bitterly. âIâve been out of control my whole damn life. But Iâm trying, Y/N. Iâm trying because of you.â
His voice cracked on the last word, and he ran a hand down his face, his composure crumbling. âI love you,â he said finally, his words barely audible. âIâve loved you for as long as I can remember. And Iâve been too much of a coward to say it until now.â
The confession hung in the air, heavy and charged. Your breath caught, your heart pounding in your chest. âJeno⊠you canât.â you began, your voice faltering. âThatâs so unfair. You canât fucking drop that on me?âÂ
He grabbed your hands, his touch warm despite the cold night air. âPlease,â he whispered, his voice trembling. âPlease donât trust her. Donât let her pull you into whatever sheâs planning. I canât lose you to her.â
You pulled your hands away, your heart twisting painfully in your chest. âYou donât understand, Jeno. Iâm finally starting to figure out who I am, and Karina is helping me. I canât just walk away from that.â
âAnd what about me?â he asked, his voice breaking. âWhat about us?â
âI donât know,â you admitted, tears welling in your eyes. âI donât know what I feel anymore.â
Jeno stared at you, his expression a mix of heartbreak and resignation. âYouâve already chosen her, havenât you?â
You couldnât answer. The silence between you was deafening, and when Jeno finally turned and walked away, the flames that had always surrounded him seemed smaller, dimmer.
The air inside the abandoned factory was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin prickle and your breath catch in your throat. The dim, flickering lights overhead cast long shadows across the rusted machinery and crumbling walls, creating an eerie backdrop for the confrontation you knew was coming. You stood frozen at the edge of the room, your heart pounding as you tried to steady your breathing. Your hands trembled at your sides, tiny sparks of electricity dancing between your fingers. You clenched your fists, trying to suppress the energy surging through you, but it was like holding back a tidal wave.
Karina stood at the center of the room, her white suit pristine despite the grime of the factory. Her diamond-shaped earrings caught the faint light, glinting like shards of ice. She watched you with a calculating gaze, her lips curled into a faint smirk. âYou feel it, donât you?â she said, her voice smooth and unnervingly calm. âThe power inside you, begging to be unleashed. You donât have to fight it, Y/N. Let it out.â
âStop. Get out of my head.â you snapped, your voice shaking with a mix of fear and anger.Â
Her smirk widened. âDarling, you can barely control your own abilities. Iâm just helping you clear your mind. To help you relax. â
Before you could respond, a deafening roar tore through the silence. The factory doors exploded inward, shards of metal and wood scattering across the floor. Flames erupted in the doorway, and through the inferno, Jeno emerged on his motorcycle, the Ghost Rider in full form. His flaming skull cast an ominous glow across the room, and his chain dragged behind him, leaving scorch marks in its wake.
âKarina!â Jenoâs voice was a guttural growl, distorted by the Spirit of Vengeance. âStep away from her.â
Karina turned toward him, her smirk never faltering. âWell, well,â she said, her tone dripping with mockery. âThe Spirit of Vengeance finally decided to crash the party. How⊠predictable.â
You took a step forward, panic rising in your chest. âJeno, donât do this!â
He glanced at you briefly, his fiery gaze softening for just a moment. âGet out of here, Y/N. I donât want you to see this.â
Karina laughed, a cold, melodic sound that sent a chill down your spine. âOh, sheâs not going anywhere. Not when sheâs finally starting to understand her potential.â
Jenoâs flames roared brighter, his chain snapping taut in his hands. âYouâre not laying a finger on her.â
Karinaâs eyes glowed with a faint silver hue, her telepathic powers flaring to life. âI donât need to lay a finger on her to destroy you, Jeno.â
The telepathic assault hit Jeno like a freight train. His flames flickered, dimming as he staggered back, clutching his skull. The Ghost Riderâs growl turned into a pained roar as Karinaâs voice echoed in his mind, sharp and venomous.
âYouâre a failure, Lee Jeno,â she hissed, her words cutting deeper than any physical blow. âA coward. A junkie. You think you can protect her? You couldnât even protect yourself.â
Jeno dropped to his knees, his chain clattering to the ground. His fiery skull dimmed further, revealing glimpses of his human face beneath, twisted in agony. âNo,â he muttered, his voice trembling. âNo, Iââ
Karina stepped closer, her voice dripping with venom. âYou left her to die, Jeno. Youâre the reason she almost bled out in that junkyard. And now you think you can save her from me? Youâre pathetic.â
âStop it!â you screamed, stepping forward. But an invisible barrier, a telekinetic shield, held you back. You slammed your fists against it, sparks of electricity crackling against the force field. âLet him go!â
Karina didnât even glance at you, her focus entirely on Jeno. âYouâre nothing without the Spirit of Vengeance. Just a broken man with nothing to offer.â
Jenoâs flames sputtered, his body trembling as he fought against her mental assault. But then, something snapped.
A surge of electricity exploded from your body, shattering Karinaâs barrier and sending a shockwave through the room. The force of it knocked Karina back, her telepathic hold on Jeno breaking as she stumbled. Sparks danced along your skin, and the lights in the factory flickered wildly, casting the room in a chaotic strobe of light and shadow.
Karinaâs calm façade cracked for the first time, her eyes narrowing as she stared at you. âWhatâŠ?â she muttered, her voice tinged with disbelief.
You looked down at your hands, electricity arcing between your fingers. The buzzing energy in your veins was overwhelming but exhilarating, like you were finally alive for the first time. âI donât know what you did to me,â you said, your voice trembling but firm. âBut Iâm done letting you manipulate me.â
Jeno rose to his feet, his flames roaring back to life as the Spirit of Vengeance surged within him. He turned to you, his fiery gaze filled with both awe and concern. âY/N⊠your powersâŠâ
You met his gaze, a flicker of resolve igniting in your chest. âWeâll figure it out later. Right now, we stop her. Together.â
Karinaâs lips twisted into a scowl. âYou think you can stop me? Both of you are just scared little children playing with powers you donât understand.â
Her eyes glowed again as she prepared to strike, but this time, you were ready. Electricity coursed through your body as you raised your hand, sending a bolt of lightning toward her. Jenoâs chain ignited in flames as he lashed out, the Ghost Rider and your newfound powers colliding in a chaotic, electrified storm of fire and fury.
Sparks flew as your electricity surged wildly, ricocheting off metal beams and machinery, while flames from Jenoâs Ghost Rider form scorched the ground. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid smell of burning metal, the heat of the battle pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. Karina narrowly avoided both attacks.
You stood in the middle of it all, suddenly trembling as the power in your veins pulsed out of control, the air around you crackling with raw energy. Every breath felt like fire in your lungs, every heartbeat a thunderous drum in your ears.
âJeno, stop!â you shouted, your voice breaking through the storm of noise. âI canâtâ I canât control it!â
âY/N, get out of here!â Jeno growled, the hellfire in his skull burning brightly as he dodged a telepathic assault from Karina. His chain lashed out, the flames leaving a trail of fire as it whipped through the air. âIâll handle her!â
âYou canât handle me, Rider,â Karina sneered, her diamond-covered hand catching the flames of Jenoâs chain and deflecting them with ease. The impact sent a shower of sparks cascading to the ground, illuminating her cold, calculating smirk. She twisted her body back to flesh, her eyes glowing as she aimed a telepathic blast toward you. âAnd neither can she.â
The attack hit you like a freight train, sending you stumbling backward. Your head throbbed as Karinaâs voice echoed in your mind, sharp and venomous. Youâre a danger to everyone around you, Y/N. Look at him. Heâs already breaking because of you.
âNo!â you shouted, gripping your head as electricity sparked uncontrollably from your body, burning holes in the ground. The pain was unbearable, a searing heat that threatened to consume you. âGet out of my head!â
Jeno roared, swinging his flaming chain toward Karina with a ferocity that shook the room. âLeave her alone!â
Karina turned to diamond just in time, the chain clashing against her hardened form with a deafening clang. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through the factory, shattering nearby windows and sending shards of glass raining down. Jeno pulled back and lashed out again, but the attacks only glanced off her unyielding body, leaving faint scorch marks on her diamond skin.
âYouâre predictable,â Karina taunted, reverting back to her human form. Her voice dripped with malice as she stepped closer, her heels clicking against the cracked concrete. âAnd reckless.â Her eyes narrowed, her telepathic powers flaring as she struck again, this time targeting Jeno. Which is why youâll never be enough for her.
Jeno froze, his flames flickering as the words hit him like a punch to the gut. The Ghost Riderâs growl faltered, his fiery skull dimming as Karinaâs mental assault dug into his deepest insecurities. âI⊠IâŠâ he stammered, his voice trembling.
Seeing her opening, Karina lunged, her diamond form shimmering into existence as she aimed a devastating punch at Jenoâs chest. The blow landed with a sickening crunch, sending him flying into a stack of metal crates. He hit the ground hard, the flames around him sputtering as he struggled to rise.
âJeno!â you screamed, your voice raw with panic. Electricity surged through you, the power building to a dangerous level as your fear and anger took over. You raised your hands, the energy crackling wildly as you unleashed a massive bolt of lightning toward Karina.
She shifted to diamond just in time, the electricity ricocheting off her hardened form and striking a nearby generator. The explosion sent a wave of heat and debris crashing through the factory, the force of it knocking you off your feet. You hit the ground hard, the breath driven from your lungs as pain shot through your ribs.
Karina emerged from the smoke, her diamond form flickering as she reverted to flesh. A thin trail of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, her once-pristine suit now torn and scorched. âYouâre meddling in things you donât understand, Y/N,â she hissed, her voice laced with frustration.
âAnd whose fault is that?â you shot back, electricity arcing dangerously around you. Your body ached, your vision blurred, but you forced yourself to stand. âYou lied to me. You used me.â
âI gave you purpose!â Karina snapped, shifting back to her human form as she tried to invade your mind again. But you were ready this time.
The moment her telepathic influence touched you, your electricity surged outward in a massive wave, cutting off her connection. The lights in the factory exploded, plunging the room into flickering darkness lit only by Jenoâs flames and the electric blue glow of your powers. The air buzzed with energy, the tension so thick it felt like the room itself was holding its breath.
Jeno took advantage of the distraction, his chain wrapping around Karinaâs leg and yanking her off her feet. She hit the ground with a sharp thud, immediately shifting to diamond to avoid his next attack. Jenoâs flames roared brighter as he swung his chain again, the fiery links crashing against her diamond form with enough force to send her skidding across the floor.
âYouâre out of tricks, Karina!â Jeno snarled, his skull blazing with hellfire.
Karina smirked, standing slowly. âAm I?â
With a wave of her hand, she sent shards of diamond-like energy hurtling toward you. Jenoâs flames flared brighter as he leapt in front of you, the shards disintegrating against his burning form. But the force of the attack sent him staggering, his flames flickering as he struggled to stay upright.
âY/N, focus!â he shouted, glancing over his shoulder at you. Blood dripped from a gash on his forehead, his human form flickering beneath the Ghost Riderâs flames. âYouâve got this. I know you do.â
You swallowed hard, your heart racing. The chaos of the battle overwhelmed you, but Jenoâs words anchored you, giving you the strength to push past the fear. Electricity sparked and crackled around you as you raised your hands, channeling the power into a focused current. The energy shot forward, slamming into Karina with enough force to send her flying into a pile of crates.
She staggered to her feet, her diamond form flickering as she struggled to maintain it. For the first time, she looked rattled, her breathing ragged and her movements slower, more deliberate.
âThis isnât over,â she hissed, her voice dripping with venom.
âWeâll see about that,â Jeno growled, flames flaring as he stepped forward.
You steadied yourself, your hands still sparking, ready for whatever came next. For the first time, you felt a glimmer of control over your powers. With Jeno by your side, you knew you wouldnât back down.
Karina straightened, her diamond form flickering as she reverted to flesh. She held up a hand, her expression unreadable. âEnough,â she said, her voice quieter now, almost resigned. âI canât keep this up forever.â
Jeno growled, his chain igniting in fiery protest as the Spirit of Vengeance pushed him to finish the fight. âYou donât get to walk away, Karina.â
But you stepped forward, placing a hand on his burning shoulder. âJeno, wait,â you said, your voice firm but calm. âLet me handle this.â
Jenoâs skull turned slightly toward you, the flames in his sockets flickering with hesitation, but he relented, lowering his chain. âFine. But donât trust her.â
You turned to Karina, your chest heaving as you fought to steady the overwhelming power coursing through you. âWhy are you doing this?â you asked, your voice tremblingânot with fear, but with exhaustion and hurt. âYou said you were helping me. Was it all a lie?â
Karinaâs diamond form flickered briefly before she reverted fully to flesh and blood. For the first time, you saw something human in her eyesâregret, perhaps, or maybe doubt. She wiped a smudge of dirt from her cheek, straightening her posture.
âI didnât lie,â she said, her voice softer now. âNot about everything. You do have incredible potential, Y/N. More than you realize. But⊠I didnât approach you purely out of kindness.â
âThen why?â you demanded, the electricity around you sparking dangerously.
Karina hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. âBecause I needed you. Your powers. For the Hellfire Clubâs plans. You were⊠a means to an end.â
Your chest tightened at her words, but before the anger could take hold, she continued.
âBut,â she said, glancing away, âit wasnât all manipulation. Iââ She paused, the unflappable Karina momentarily at a loss for words. âI enjoyed spending time with you, Y/N. Youâre smart, kind⊠and you made me see things differently.â
âDifferently?â you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.
Karina met your gaze, her icy composure softening. âIâve spent so much of my life doing what I thought was necessaryâmaking hard decisions for the âgreater good.â But being around you⊠it reminded me of who I used to be, before all of this. Before I became... this.â
Jeno stepped closer, his flames dimming but still present. âIf youâre having second thoughts, prove it. Walk away.â
Karina looked between you and Jeno, her expression conflicted. For a moment, you thought she might lash out again, but instead, she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a pair of sleek, metallic gauntlets.
âHere,â she said, tossing them to you. You caught them instinctively, the cool metal humming faintly in your hands. âTheyâll help you control your powers. Keep you from accidentally frying someone. I was supposed to give them to you after you joined us.â
You stared at the gauntlets, then back at her. âThen why are you giving me these now?â
Karina smiled faintly, a flicker of genuine warmth breaking through her usual cool demeanor. âBecause I donât want you to make the same mistakes I did. Power without control... itâll destroy you. And Iâd rather not see that happen.â
Jeno crossed his arms, his fiery gaze narrowing. âThis doesnât absolve you of everything youâve done.â
âI know,â Karina said, her voice quiet. She turned to you, her expression serious. âIf things get worse. Like if the Hellfire Club comes after you. Call me. Iâll help you.â
âWhy?â you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it.
Karina gave you a small, almost sad smile. âBecause despite everything, I care about you, Y/N. More than I expected to.â
With that, she turned on her heel and began walking toward the factoryâs exit.
âYouâll never stop looking over your shoulder if you go back to them,â Jeno called after her, his voice hard.
Karina paused at the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder. âMaybe,â she admitted. âBut we donât all get to ride off into the sunset with a gorgeous woman who can manipulate electricity by our side, do we, Rider?â
And then she was gone, disappearing into the night like a ghost.
You stood there, clutching the gauntlets tightly, your heart a storm of emotions. Jeno stepped closer, his flames dimming until they extinguished completely, leaving him in his human form.
âYou okay?â he asked, his voice softer now.
You nodded, though you werenât entirely sure if it was true. âI think so. For now.â
He gave you a small, tentative smile. âWeâll figure this out. Together.â
The factory was a wreck. The floors were scorched, the walls cracked from the battles you fought, and the lingering scent of burnt rubber and ozone filled the air. You and Jeno both stood in the aftermath, looking like a pair of survivors who had just stumbled out of a warzoneâexcept, in your case, the war was against a woman who could turn into a diamond. And, you know, manipulate minds. No big deal.
You winced as you flexed your wrist, the burn from a stray blast still making your skin tingle. Glancing at Jeno, you noticed his own set of injuries: deep cuts across his arms and a nasty gash on his forehead, not to mention his previously pristine jacket now reduced to ash and scorched fabric. Classic Jeno, always wearing the most expensive thing in a junkyard brawl.
âHey, soâŠâ you began, shifting uncomfortably as you tried to ignore the awkward silence hanging between you two. âAbout all the⊠revelations tonight.â
Jeno shot you a sideways glance, and you could see the weight of everything that had happened sinking in. The Spirit of Vengeance had left him, so at least he wasnât looking like a flaming skull for now, but you could still see the lingering guilt in his eyes. The man was a walking metaphor for a storm. Wild, unpredictable, and, apparently, in need of a good therapist.
âYeah, you donât say,â he muttered, rubbing his head. âSo, uh, what now? Do we pretend that didnât happen? Or is the whole âelectricity-generating mutantâ thing a forever deal?â
You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. âYou think I just woke up one day and thought, âHey, Iâll be a walking lightning rod for the rest of my lifeâ?â
Jeno winced as he straightened up, his movements stiff. âNo, I didnât, but... you know. Seems like thatâs exactly whatâs happening.â
âGreat. Iâll add it to my âWhat I Did Wrong Todayâ list,â you muttered, feeling the familiar surge of frustration rise in you. But it wasnât just at your powers. It was at the one thing you couldnât quite shake off: Jeno.
You narrowed your eyes at him, your tone suddenly more serious. âAnd what about you, huh? Still think popping pills and riding a bike through fire is a good coping mechanism? Especially since youâre apparently made of fire now?â
Jeno flinched, and for a moment, it felt like the old Jeno was retreating back into his shellâthe one he built to protect himself from all the things he couldnât face. He kicked the ground, looking at his scuffed boots. âI didnâtâ Itâs justâŠâ He sighed, unable to finish the sentence.
âJeno,â you said, voice softer now. You placed a hand on his shoulder, though he didnât meet your eyes. âIâm serious. If you want to stay in my life. If you really care about me at all. You need to get help. You canât keep doing this to yourself.â
Jeno glanced up at you, his usually cocky demeanor replaced with something a little more vulnerable. âI know,â he said quietly. âI know Iâve messed up. And I promised you Iâd get better. Butââ He hesitated, searching for the right words. âYouâre right. I donât want to be that person anymore. I donât want to lose you.â
You took a deep breath, your frustration dissipating just slightly. The old, familiar bond you shared was still there, tangled in with the new, raw emotions. You nodded, but added with a small, teasing smirk, âIf you ever try to pop a pill in front of me again, Iâll use you as a lightning rod. Got it?â
Jeno gave a half-laugh, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. âGot it. No more pills. Just the occasional dramatic motorcycle crash for old timeâs sake.â
âOh, yeah, thatâs so much better,â you deadpanned. âBut seriously, Jeno, I canât help you if you donât help yourself first. I wonât watch you burn up from the inside out.â
He met your gaze, the flicker of sincerity in his eyes making you pause. âIâll try, Y/N. I swear. Iâm tired of hurting myselfâand you.â
You nodded again, feeling the weight of the conversation settle into your bones. âGood. And, uh, while weâre on the subjectâif you ever want to not be on fire for five seconds, Iâve got these new gauntlets that could help with the whole âliteral fire hazardâ thing. Maybe we should figure out how to duplicate them.â
Jenoâs eyes flicked to the gauntlets you were still holding, raising an eyebrow. âYou think those are going to keep me from turning into a human torch?â
âWell, they wonât stop you from being a hot mess,â you quipped, âbut they might help with the literal hot mess part. Try them on. See if they can cool you off. But give them back, I donât wanna electrocute you later.â
Jeno chuckled, shaking his head. âYouâre something else.â He pulled the gauntlets on with a shrug. They fit perfectly, âBetter than getting burned alive, I guess.â
âThatâs the spirit,â you said with a small smile. âSee? Weâre making progress.â
He gave a small, half-smile in return. âOne step at a time.â
The first few days after the chaos in the factory felt like the world had hit the pause button. You were still grappling with the full weight of what had happenedâthe fight, Karinaâs departure, and the truth about your powers. But more than that, you were trying to figure out how to not burn down the nearest building while you practiced controlling your mutant abilities.
Your bedroom had turned into an impromptu testing ground for your electrical powers, and you were starting to actually feel like a walking lightning rod now. The first time you accidentally zapped the toaster, you almost burned down the kitchen. Itâs fine, you told yourself. Iâll just keep a fire extinguisher in every room.
"Okay, just breathe," you muttered, staring at the lamp in front of you. Your hands crackled with electrical energy. "Focus. Youâre not going to fry this lamp into oblivion. Youâve got this."
The lamp flickered. Then, with a sudden snap, it exploded in a burst of light.
"Okay, maybe not. Plan B: Try not to set anything on fire this time," you groaned, rubbing your forehead. You glanced at the charred remnants of your lamp. Great. Iâm a walking disaster.
Meanwhile, in the next room, Jeno was wrestling with his own set of issues. His recovery wasnât as simple as just kicking a habit. It was as if his very soul had to unlearn years of reckless behavior and self-destruction. And while he was committed to getting better, you had a sneaking suspicion that his journey would involve more than a few missteps along the way.
You walked into the living room, where Jeno was sitting on the couch, staring at a glass of water like it held the answers to all of lifeâs problems.
"Howâs it going, big guy?" you asked, leaning in the doorway.
Jeno glanced up and sighed dramatically. "Iâm just sitting here, contemplating the universe. You know, the usual."
"Right. The deep, soul-searching kind of contemplation." You gave him a pointed look. "Or are you trying to convince yourself that water canât be addictive?"
He shot you a dry look. "Very funny. But no, Iâm actually just trying to make sure I donât relapse into firing up my bike for no reason."
You raised an eyebrow. "And thatâs going well, I assume?"
"Actually," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, "Iâm being good. No fire, no bike stunts, just... boring old rehab."
"Donât worry, Iâm sure youâll find a way to be extra dramatic about it. Itâs your brand."
Jeno smirked, the hint of his old self shining through. "Yeah, well, Iâm trying to unbrand myself."
You chuckled. "Good luck with that. Iâm pretty sure the Ghost Rider brand is hard to shake."
Jeno exhaled through his nose, rubbing his forehead. "I hate that name."
You threw your hands up. "What? Itâs catchy!"
"Catchy? It sounds like Iâm auditioning for a cheesy horror movie," he grumbled.
"But the cool demon guy gave you it."
Jeno gave you a playful glare. "And he wants me to exterminate every sinful person in this world, so is he really âcoolâ?"
You shrugged, smiling. "Iâm just trying to make sure you donât fall into your bad habits again. Humor is the only thing that gets me through this madness."
Jeno stared at you, a mix of amusement and sincerity on his face. "Thanks, Y/N. Really. I... I donât know what Iâd do without you."
You softened, though you couldnât resist throwing in a final jab. "Probably set something on fire, knowing you."
"Donât tempt me," Jeno warned with a grin.
"Okay, okay," you relented, holding up your hands. "Iâll stop. But hey, how about we both try and figure this out without burning anything down, deal?"
Jeno looked at you, a little more serious now. "Deal."
And so, you began this new chapter, with a growing sense of purpose. You and Jeno were both trying to reclaim control over your lives, and though it wasnât easy, it was at least a little bit more bearable with each otherâs help.
As for you, well, you still had a lot to learn about controlling your powers. But you figured you could start small, maybe with not blowing up your appliances. After all, if you could survive your own chaotic life, maybe saving the world wasnât that far out of reach.
The night was cool, but the air still carried the buzz of the dayâs chaos. The city sprawled out before you, lights flickering in the distance, the world oblivious to the storm that had just passed through. You and Jeno stood side by side in the parking lot, where the remnants of your battle and struggles were already fading into the distance.
Jenoâs bike sat next to you, the engine idling with that low growl that had always gotten your heart racingâbefore you knew all the trouble it would bring. You felt the familiar charge in the air as your hands crackled with electric energy, but it was different now. Controlled.
âWell, this is... weird,â you said, tapping the side of your gauntlets and watching the sparks dance around your fingertips.
Jeno shot you a sidelong glance, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, you being the dangerous one now. Whatâs next? Youâre gonna start taking over the world?"
You rolled your eyes. âWorld domination? Please. Iâll start with not burning down my apartment.â
Jeno gave you a knowing look. âOne step at a time, right?â
He mounted his bike and revved the engine, the sound echoing through the empty streets. You followed suit, stepping onto the back of his bike with a practiced ease that only came from years of friendshipâand more than a few questionable decisions.Â
As Jeno revved the engine again, you looked at the skyline one last time, feeling the electric hum of your powers simmer beneath your skin.
"You know," Jeno said, breaking the silence as his hand gripped the handlebars tighter, "I think Iâve got a name for you."
You raised an eyebrow. "Oh, no. Iâm not falling for this again."
"No, seriously. You need a name," he insisted, glancing at you with that same cocky grin. "Surge. It fits. Youâve got the whole âelectricityâ vibe going on."
You stared at him for a moment, and thenâafter a deep, soul-searching pauseâlet out a dramatic sigh. âSurge? Seriously?â
âYeah, itâs perfect,â he said with a shrug, clearly pleased with himself. "Itâs got that âsuperheroâ ring to it."
You immediately shoved him lightly, making him almost lose his balance. "Shut up, Jeno. Thatâs the worst name Iâve ever heard."
âCome on, itâs not that bad!â he protested, his laughter echoing in the night. "Alright, alright, weâll work on it. But you canât deny itâSurge has a nice ring to it."
You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. âJust drive, Jeno. Youâre lucky Iâm not zapping you off this bike right now.â
âOkay, okay, you win.â Jeno started the bike and, with a final glance toward the horizon, sped off into the night, the flames of his chain lighting up the road ahead.
The wind whipped through your hair, the flames of Ghost Rider and the crackling electricity of your powers illuminating the streets as you rode side by side. The world still had its dangers, but right now, the night felt endless.Â
âLike would our ship name be Surge Rider or Ghurââ
âShut the fuck up and drive.â
TAGLIST ⏠@lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear
#actionfigurescollab#jeno#jeno fluff#nct dream jeno#jeno imagines#nct dream imagines#nct jeno#nct dream#jeno lee#nct#nct jeno imagines#jeno fic#jeno x reader#lee jeno#jeno nct#jeno angst#lee jeno x reader#nct dream x reader#nct fics#nct dream fics#nct x reader#jeno fanfic#biker jeno
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âź Chapter One: Homecoming Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Hockey Player!Jungkook, Figure Skater!Reader, Hockey Player!Taehyung, Hockey Player!Jimin, Hockey Player!Namjoon, Hockey Player!Hoseok, Figure Skater!Jin, Coach!Yoongi Genre: Hockey!AU, Figure Skating!AU, Olympic!AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Self-Discovery, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn Word Count: 19.1k+ Summary: Y/N Y/L/N has always been destined for greatness as a competitive figure skater, her dreams of the Olympics sparkling like the ice beneath her blades. But when a devastating injury sidelines her, those dreams seem to melt away. Just when she feels lost, she unexpectedly meets Jeon Jungkook, a talented NHL hockey player. Warnings: Reader is injured and still using crutches, meet-cute reference to an unhealthy relationship with mom, absent father, parental issues, pining, low self-esteem, reader has anxiety, reader is very stressed out, honestly my girl is just exhausted, very pushy neighbors (but we love them for it), Taehyung is adopted, this is really just an introduction to everyone so not many warnings here... A/N: Happy New Year! Let's kick things off with a new massive series. This one will touch on very heavy topics such as toxic parents, mental health issues, and non-consensual touching. Please proceed with caution. New Chapters every month!
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I never used to think about what came next. Why would I? It felt pointless, like trying to guess the ending of a book while you were still tangled in the messy, middle chapters. Life just kept happeningâfast, breathless, one page after another. And sometimes, if you were lucky, you got close to something that felt like a dream. So close you could almost taste it. But right when you reached for it? Thatâs when life reminded youâbooks close, lights go out, and suddenly, youâre right back where you started.
Normal? I wouldnât know normal if it walked up and smacked me in the face. Normal was for people who wore stiff blazers and drank bad office coffee. My mornings started in the darkâlacing up my skates, the air so cold it bit at my skin. Stretch until it hurt. Practice until the moves werenât moves anymore, just instinct. The rink smelled like sweat and frost and that sharp, unmistakable scent of wanting something too much. It clung to me.
That was my life. Until it wasnât.
I donât even remember learning how to skate. I just always had. The ice was the one place that made sense, the only place where my body and my brain felt like they belonged to the same person. My mom, Emily, saw it first. That spark in me. And once she saw it, she never let go. She didnât just support meâshe pushed. Hard. Like a storm rolling in, relentless and all-consuming. Maybe to her, thatâs what love looked like.
People whispered about her. Said she was chasing her own lost dreams through me. Maybe she was. But I never resented her for it. Her ambition was like a fireâsometimes too hot, sometimes too much. But it kept me warm. Even when it burned.
Sheâd been a skater once, too. Until life happened. Until she got pregnant with me, married my dad, Jim, and let go of whatever dreams she had left. Some people move on. She never did. She carried that regret around like a weight, year after year, until all she had left was me. And the ice. I was her second chance.
She met Jim when she was still young and restless, and he was passing through town for police training. They fell in love, or at least, something close enough to it. Then I came along. A courthouse wedding, a move, a slow unraveling. Eventually, Emily and I left for Coloradoâchasing the ice, chasing the dream. Jim stayed in Olympia, sinking into his routine until it swallowed him whole. I became the thing in between, stretched between my dadâs steady, distant world and my momâs all-or-nothing drive.
Michigan wasnât home anymore. Hadnât been for years. But here I was.
The intercom crackled to life, yanking me out of my head.
âLadies and gentlemen, this is your captain. Weâre beginning our descent into Detroit, where itâs currently five-eighteen p.m. and a frigid fifteen degrees Fahrenheit. Please secure your belongings.â
Fifteen degrees. Typical Michigan.
I stared out the window, my knee aching, a bitter little reminder. I was supposed to meet Dr. Jeon on Monday. People swore he was the best. But I already knew it didnât matter. The moment my skate caught that rough patch of ice, when my body twisted and my world turned upside downâI knew.
It was over.
I could still see it, clear as a photograph: the rink bathed in pale afternoon light, Swan Lake drifting through the air. I wasnât even competing, just skating for the sake of skating. My mom and my coach sat in the stands, talking about my next routine. I picked up speed, heading into a fan spiralâwhen it happened. My blade caught. My leg gave out. I went down hard.
The planeâs landing gear hit the tarmac with a screech, shaking the memory loose. My heart pounded. I gripped the armrest, swallowing against the lump in my throat.
Passengers stood, jostling for overhead bags, but I stayed put. No point in rushing. My crutches were cold in my hands, awkward, unfamiliar. A few months ago, I could glide across the ice like I belonged there. And now? Now I could barely walk through an airport without feeling like I might tip over.
At baggage claim, I stared at the conveyor belt, watching suitcases circle like they had all the time in the world. My hands were full. My leg was useless.
"You need a hand?"
The voice came out of nowhere. I flinched, turning too fast, and there he wasâtall, brown-eyed, and looking at me like he could see straight through all my carefully constructed defenses. Before I could respond, someone bumped into me, and my crutch slipped from my grip, clattering against the floor.
I wobbled, reaching out for somethingâanythingâto steady myself. But he was faster. His hands caught my arms, firm but gentle, like heâd done this before. Like he knew exactly how to keep someone from falling.
For a second, the world around usâthe airport, the noise, the blur of peopleâjust stopped.
"You okay?" His voice was warm, steady, like it belonged to someone who never panicked.
I nodded quickly, my face heating. "Yeah. Fine." A lie, probably. But what else was I supposed to say? No, actually, Iâm currently living my worst nightmare, thanks for asking?
He let go slowly, like he was making sure I wouldnât tip over again, and bent down to grab my crutch. When he handed it back, his eyes lingeredânot with pity, but something else. Something softer.
"Thanks," I muttered, gripping the crutch tighter than necessary.
He smiledâeasy, unbothered. "No problem." But there was something behind it, like maybe he had more to say.
The airport rushed back to life around us. People zigzagging past, voices bouncing off the high ceilings, the endless hum of somewhere-to-be energy. But for just a moment, it still felt like we were in a separate, quieter place.
He glanced at the mess of luggage by my feet. "Need help with your bags?"
My pride answered before logic could. "Iâve got it."
Which was a bold thing to say, considering I clearly did not have it. My knee throbbed, like it was rolling its metaphorical eyes at me.
But he didnât argue. Just shrugged, like it was all the same to him. "Alright. But itâs no trouble if you change your mind."
I shifted my weight, felt the sharp twinge, and sighed. "Okay, yeah. I could use some help."
The words tasted weird in my mouth. He didnât seem to notice. He just grabbed my suitcase like it weighed nothing, balancing my smaller bag on top.
"Someone picking you up?" he asked as we made our way toward the sliding glass doors, where the cold Michigan air lurked like a villain in a horror movie.
"Nope. Just grabbing a cab," I said, weaving through the crowd. But I was aware of him next to me, solid and steady, like an anchor I hadnât realized I needed.
"Iâve got my car in the overnight lot," he said, so casually it almost sounded like a throwaway offer. "I could give you a ride."
I hesitated. Too fast. "No, itâs okay," I said, maybe a little too quick, a little too sharp.
Something flickered across his faceâdisappointment? Or was I just imagining it?
We stepped outside, and the cold hit. Hard. I sucked in a sharp breath, my fingers instantly regretting every life choice that led to me not bringing gloves.
He noticed. His mouth twitched into a knowing smile. "Forgot what Michigan feels like in January?"
"Yeah," I muttered, hugging my coat closer. "Something like that."
I should be used to it. I grew up on ice, for Godâs sake. But this cold felt different. It wasnât just outsideâit was creeping in, settling deep, gnawing at something raw.
"So, where were you before this?" he asked, breath curling into the air like smoke.
"Nevada. Before that, Colorado. We moved around a lot." I didnât even know why I was telling him this. I didnât even know him.
"We?" He raised an eyebrow, like he already knew the answer but wanted me to say it anyway.
"Me and my mom," I said, my voice quieter now. "Sheâs not really the âstay in one placeâ type."
He nodded, like that made perfect sense. "A modern-day nomad. Sounds... exhausting."
I let out a small laugh, more reflex than anything. "Yeah. It can be."
And maybe it was just the exhaustion, or the cold, or the fact that he felt easy to talk to, but this whole conversation was starting to feel less strange. Less like a fleeting airport moment and more like something solid.
"You staying here for a while?" he asked, his dark eyes locking with mine, the cold suddenly not as noticeable.
"For the foreseeable future," I said, surprising myself with how easily it came out.
"Good to know." His voice softened, like it was some kind of inside joke I didnât know we were sharing yet. And that crooked smile? Yeah. Dangerous.
My pulse did something stupid.
What was I even doing? Standing here, flirting with a stranger in the dead of winter? This wasnât real lifeâthis was the kind of thing that only happened in bad rom-coms and half-formed daydreams. But with him, it felt real. Too real.
"Maybe Iâll see you around," he said, running a hand through his hair, whichâof courseâfell back into place in that perfectly messy, I-donât-care-but-I-do way.
"Yeah, maybe," I said, even though I wasnât sure I believed it.
"You live nearby?"
I should already be in a cab. I should be out of this cold, heading toward whatever was left of my life. But instead, I was still standing here, asking questions I had no business asking.
"Detroit," he said, his breath hanging in the air like something unfinished.
"Me too," I blurted out. "Just moved there, actually."
"Downtown?" He asked it like my answer mattered more than it should.
"Royal Oak," I said. "The old houses there... theyâre beautiful."
"They are," he agreed, and there was something in the way he said it, like he was noticing things about me I didnât even realize I was showing. His gaze flicked from my eyes to my lips, and for a second, the space between us felt smaller, thinner, like something was about to snap.
Then the wind did it for us, slicing between us like a blade.
"Welcome to Michigan," he said, laughing, his voice warm against the cold.
And then, before I could react, before I could process anything, he reached down and took my bare hands in his.
His hands were warm. Too warm. Like touching them had flipped some hidden switch inside me.
I felt it. Everywhere.
For a second, I swore the ground shifted.
"We should get you a cab," he said, glancing down at my frozen fingers, his expression softer now. "Youâre not exactly dressed for this weather."
"Yeah, I probably shouldâve planned better," I admitted with a laugh, but I was barely paying attention to the cold anymore. Just the heat from his hands, the way they made everything else feel less cold.
He waved down a cab like heâd done it a hundred times before, easy and effortless. I stood there, watching as he loaded my bags into the trunk, every movement feeling like a countdown. And then, when he pulled open the door for me, I just... stood there.
At the edge of the moment. Caught between stepping forward and holding still. Between leaving and staying.
âThanks for the help,â I said, looking up at him, my heart knocking against my ribs.
âJungkook,â he said, soft, like he was handing me something delicate. His smile was still there, tugging at the corner of his mouth like he wasnât ready to let it go just yet. âIâm Jungkook.â
âY/N,â I replied, my own name slipping out so easily, like it had been waiting to be said here, in this exact moment, in this freezing air between us.
He repeated itâslowly, like he was trying it on. Like it was something worth holding in his mouth for a second longer. âY/N,â he said again, quieter this time. And then he leaned in, just a little, like he was about to tell me a secret.
And suddenly, everything elseâthe cold, the noise, the rush of people around usâblurred out. It was just him, standing too close, that crooked grin making me wonder if maybeâjust maybeâthis wasnât the end of whatever this was.
âYeah, Jungkook?â I asked, my breath hitching, anticipation curling in my stomach.
âMy friends and I... we go to this bar on Grand most Tuesdays. Bronx?â He said it like a casual suggestion, but it wasnât casual. It was a bridge. A next step. âMaybe Iâll see you there sometime?â
A thrill shot through meâquick and unexpected. He wanted to see me again.
âYeah,â I stammered, trying to sound normal, trying to sound like my pulse wasnât suddenly in my throat. âI could swing by. Once Iâm settled in.â
âGreat.â His whole face lit up, and it was like watching a door crack open, just enough to glimpse something softer behind it. "Iâll see you around then, Y/N."
And just like that, he stepped back, shut the door behind me, and the moment ended.
The cab pulled away, and I turned, craning for one last look. He was still standing there, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, watching me go. When he caught my gaze, he waved, easy and casual, like this whole thing hadnât just knocked the wind out of me. I lifted my hand in return, but my chest was still tight, my heart still racing.
I slumped back against the seat, pressing my forehead to the cold window, hoping the chill would slow my thoughts down. Because now that I was alone, the doubts started creeping in. The what-ifs.
Would I actually show up at Bronx? Or would I do what I always didâlet the moment fade, tell myself it wasnât real, convince myself it was just a weird, fleeting connection that didnât actually mean anything?
But then I thought about him. About that lopsided smile. The way he said my name like it was something worth remembering. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself wonder...
What if?
It was a little past seven when the cab finally rolled to a stop in front of my new apartment building. The sky had darkened into that deep, bruised purple, the kind that makes the world feel just a little heavier. The cold hit me full force as I climbed out, my crutches clattering against the pavement.
I was so tired. That kind of exhaustion that settles into your bones, heavy and unshakable.
The doorman noticed immediatelyâa grizzled guy with kind eyes and the weary patience of someone who had seen a lot of people start over. He moved toward me with the kind of practiced ease that made it clear he had done this before. Watched people show up with too many bags and too many hopes. Watched them leave, sometimes with less of both.
Without a word, he took my luggage, leading me toward the elevator like it was second nature.
Apartment 311 smelled like fresh paint and nothing else. The kind of emptiness that didnât just sit in the airâit echoed. My footsteps bounced off the bare walls, and for a second, it felt like I was in a storage unit, not a home. No couch. No bed. Just a hollow space waiting to be filled with something real.
I let out a long breath. The cold inside the apartment was different from the cold outsideâsharper, lonelier. Like even the air hadnât settled in yet.
I pulled out my phone and ordered a pizza. Pepperoni and mushrooms, with a side of breadsticks. It felt like a stupidly normal thing to do, like maybe if I just ordered dinner, it would trick my brain into thinking everything was fine. That this wasnât weird. That I wasnât standing in the middle of an empty apartment with nothing but a suitcase and a sinking feeling in my stomach.
By the time I hung up, the ache in my chest had settled in for the night. This was real. No backing out now.
I called Emily.
Her voice was a mix of relief and tension, like she wanted to be happy Iâd made it but also wanted to remind me that I had things to do. That I had to get back to training. That I couldnât just pause. But I was pausing. I was standing in an apartment with no furniture, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers. And I just... couldnât deal with it right now.
After a few strained minutes, I made an excuse and hung up. The silence rushed back in, filling the space like water, drowning out everything else.
I wandered through the empty rooms, my fingers grazing the white walls. The place felt sterile, like a waiting room for a life I hadnât started living yet. Outside, the city buzzedâcar horns, laughter, people moving through their lives like they knew exactly where they were going. I pressed my forehead to the window, watching them pass. Families. Students. Dog walkers. Everyone seemed to belong to something. To someone.
And me? I felt like a glitch in the system. Like Iâd been dropped into the wrong life by accident.
Jungkookâs face flashed in my mind. The way heâd said my name, like it meant something. Like maybe I wasnât as lost as I felt. I let myself picture itâwalking into Bronx on a Tuesday night, catching sight of that crooked grin. It was just a thought, a little flicker of something warm. But I wasnât ready to let it go just yet.
The apartment was still too empty, but at least tomorrow thereâd be furniture. A couch. Shelves. A coffee table, maybe. The kind of things that made a place feel real.
But the real gem of the apartment wasnât the kitchen or the big windows. It was the alcove by the entranceâa tiny nook with a built-in window seat, framed by bookshelves. A little space that felt hidden from the rest of the world. I could already imagine curling up there on winter nights, listening to the snow tap against the glass. And for the first time since I got here, I could almost picture itâthis place turning into something more than just four walls and an address.
A knock at the door snapped me out of it.
I hobbled over, stomach growling. Pizza. Finally.
But when I pulled open the door, it wasnât the delivery guy.
It was a girl. Petite, but somehow larger than life, dressed in a black knit sweater dress and a sequined mini that shimmered in the dim hallway light. Her hair was buzzed short, dark and soft-looking, and she had cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. But it was her eyes that stopped meâdeep brown, warm, familiar.
They reminded me of him.
âHey!â she chirped, like we were old friends. âIâm Mina. I live in 312. The pizza guy accidentally brought your order to us, so I figured Iâd bring it over and say hi.â
I blinked at her. Processing.
âThanks,â I said finally, shifting on my crutches. âWould you mind setting it in the kitchen? Iâm a little... restricted.â
âOf course!â Mina breezed past me like sheâd lived here her whole life, her boots clicking against the hardwood. She set the pizza down and turned back, eyes bright with curiosity. âSo... what happened?â She gestured at the crutches.
âSports injury,â I said, keeping it vague. It wasnât a lie, exactly. Just not the whole truth.
Mina nodded like that was good enough. âWell, I hope youâre healing okay. Must be rough, moving in while dealing with all that.â
âYeah,â I said, relieved when she didnât press. âThanks again for bringing the pizza.â
âNo problem! Consider it a âWelcome to the Buildingâ gift.â She grinned, then suddenly froze, her eyes going wide.
âWait... you donât have any furniture, do you?â
I sighed. âIâll figure something out. Itâs just one night.â
Mina looked personally offended by this information. Then, before I could stop her, she scooped up the pizza box and waltzed right back out the door.
I just stood there. Staring. Processing.
Did she really just take my dinner?
With a groan, I grabbed my bag and pulled out fleece pants, a tank top, and my track jacket. Changed. Gathered up my toothbrush, phone, and keys. Then, still half-stunned, I hobbled down the hall to apartment 312.
I knocked, my heart pounding for no good reason.
The door creaked open, but it wasnât Mina standing there.
It was a tall blonde womanâstriking in that effortless kind of way, like she had never tripped over a curb in her life. She had long, golden hair that fell like silk, sharp dark eyebrows, and deep brown eyes that were almost black. Where Mina crackled with chaotic energy, this woman felt like still water. Collected. Unshakable. The kind of person who didnât need to prove anything to anyone.
âHey, come on in,â she said, her voice low and a little raspy. âMina said youâd be staying with us tonight.â
âThanks,â I muttered, stepping inside, feeling weirdly self-conscious. âI donât want to imposeââ
âNonsense,â she said, waving a hand like my words were actual garbage. âOnce Mina decides something, thereâs no point arguing. You might as well accept your fate.â
Before I could respond, Mina barreled into the room, now in yoga pants and a t-shirt that looked like it had been washed a thousand times.
âI knew youâd come!â she declared, triumphant.
âWell, you didnât give me much of a choice,â I said, trying for casual, even though my chest still felt tight. âYou did steal my dinner.â
âSee? It worked!â Mina grinned, entirely unrepentant. âTrust me, this is way better than eating alone in an empty apartment. Youâre smart for coming over.â She paused, eyes widening like she had just remembered something vital. âOh my God, I didnât even ask your name. I get so carried away sometimes.â
âY/N,â I said. âY/L/N.â
âWelcome, Y/N,â the blonde said, leading me toward the kitchen. âIâm Leera, but you can call me Lucy if you want. And donât worryâyouâll get used to Minaâs... enthusiasm.â
The apartment was warm and lived-in, a contrast to my own echoing space. I caught sight of the pizza box Mina had stolenâbut there were three more stacked on the counter, the air thick with the smell of melted cheese and garlic.
âWhatâs with all the pizza?â I asked, glancing between them.
âWe ordered some too,â Mina said, flipping open a box like a game show host revealing a grand prize. âThey just happened to show up at the same time. Fate, obviously.â
Lucy pulled my bottle of Diet Coke out of the fridge and held it up. âWant some ice?â she asked, like she already knew the answer.
âYeah,â I said. And just like that, I felt some of the tension in my shoulders ease.
It didnât take long to figure out that Mina and Lucy were more than just roommates. Mina was an event plannerâweddings, galas, partiesâwhich made so much sense. Her whole vibe was confetti and last-minute ideas and carrying three coffees at once. Her family was originally from Wisconsin, though her great-grandparents had immigrated from Korea. Lucy, on the other hand, was her exact opposite. She worked in classic car restoration, which honestly stunned me. She had the kind of delicate, elegant energy that made me assume she spent her time doing something refined, like designing couture dresses or sipping espresso in a minimalist art studio. But no, she rebuilt engines. She smelled like vanilla and motor oil.
âMost people donât believe me when I tell them,â she said, smirking as she popped open a can of sparkling water. âBut I love it. Itâs in my blood.â
Mina and Lucy werenât just best friendsâthey were family, their lives so tightly woven together it was hard to tell where one story ended and the other began. Mina was engaged to Lucyâs brother, and Lucy was dating one of Minaâs. It was the kind of connection that felt inevitable, like the universe had put them in the same orbit on purpose. Every time Mina mentioned her fiancĂ©, Taehyung, or Lucy talked about her boyfriend, Jimin, their expressions softened, like even thinking about them made the world a little warmer.
And somehow, I was here too. Sitting at their kitchen island, laughing, eating stolen pizza like I belonged.
By the time I glanced at the clock, it was past eleven.
Somehow, what was supposed to be a couple of awkward hours had turned into something else entirelyâsomething easy. Something that felt suspiciously like belonging.
âGet used to late nights,â Lucy teased, nudging me with her elbow. âBeing our friend means you have to be a night owl.â
Friends?
I wasnât sure the last time Iâd used it to describe myself. Maybe never.
Growing up, there wasnât space for friends. Emily and my coaches made sure of that. My life had been structured and scheduled within an inch of its existenceâearly mornings, late nights, a constant push toward something bigger, something better. And at some point, I had started pulling away from people before they had the chance to do it first.
But Mina and Lucy? They werenât waiting for me to prove anything. They werenât measuring my worth by what Iâd achieved.
They just saw me.
And that was almost scarier than being alone.
âSo, Y/N,â Mina said, shattering the comfortable silence. âWhatâs the plan for tomorrow?â
âBig day,â I admitted, exhaustion creeping in. âMy furnitureâs arriving, plus all my stuff from Nevada. I need to grab groceries. Thought about picking out paint colors, but that might be too ambitious.â
Minaâs face lit up like Iâd just invited her to an amusement park. âNeed help? Iâm free tomorrow. And Iâm ridiculously efficient. Weâll knock it all out in no time.â She gestured toward my crutches with a cheeky grin. âEspecially since youâre a little limited.â
I hesitated. I wasnât used to accepting help. But Mina had this way of making it seem like it would be more work to say no.
âThat would be great,â I admitted. âThanks.â
Lucy shot me a knowing look from where she stood by the sink. âJust donât let her bulldoze you. Once she gets going, sheâs unstoppable. Your place will look like a West Elm catalog before you even blink.â
Mina gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. âIâm just trying to help her create a cozy space. Is that so wrong?â
âIâm just giving her fair warning,â Lucy said, eyes glinting. âYouâre in for the full Mina experience.â
I yawned before I could stop myself. Mina noticed immediately.
âGo freshen up,â she said, waving me toward the bathroom. âIâll set up the couch for you.â
I shuffled off, grateful for the moment alone. As I brushed my teeth and splashed cool water on my face, I felt the weight of the night settle in. When I returned, the couch had been transformed into a nest of blankets and pillowsâso much cozier than the cold, empty apartment Iâd left behind.
âThanks, guys,â I said, sinking into my makeshift bed. âThis is way better than crashing on a pile of sweatshirts.â
Lucy grinned as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. âIâll swing by around four tomorrow, just in time to rescue you from Minaâs overzealous decorating spree.â
âIâll need it,â I said, throwing Mina a smirk.
Mina gasped, deeply offended. âYouâll love every second of it. Actually, Iâll call the guys and see if they can help with the heavy lifting this weekend. Theyâve got a game in Anaheim on Friday, but they should be free after that.â
âGame?â I asked, frowning.
Mina blinked. âOh. Yeah. Jimin, Taehyung, and my other brotherâthey play for the Michigan Red Wings.â
The name rang a bell, but faintly. Like a half-remembered dream.
âShould I know what that means?â
Lucy smirked. âNHL, Y/N. Theyâre professional hockey players.â
âOh,â I said. I wasnât sure what I was expecting, but that wasnât it. Hockey wasnât really on my radar. The only time I even thought about it was when Emily complained about hockey players hogging ice time.
âWeâll have to take you to a game,â Mina said, already vibrating with excitement. âTheyâre mid-season, and the teamâs so good right now.â
âMina, you say that every year,â Lucy said, rolling her eyes.
Mina grinned. âBecause every year, itâs true! Even if they werenât good, itâs still fun. The speed, the energyâŠâ She trailed off, lost in her own little hockey world.
I laughed, but something about all of thisâthis easy, effortless warmthâfelt almost too good to be real. Like Iâd borrowed someone elseâs life for the night.
âMina,â I said, nudging her. âYou do realize two of those players are your brothers, right?â
She made a face. âObviously, Y/N. Iâm not checking them out. But letâs be realâtheyâre objectively attractive. And if you happen to take an interest, thereâs plenty of other man candy on the team.â
Lucy chuckled. âSheâs not wrong. Her brothers are hot. Not that Iâm lookingâTaehyung is more than enoughâbut Jungkook? Yeah, heâs got the looks.â
Jungkook.
The name hit me like a bucket of ice water.
Could it be my Jungkook?Â
My brain raced back to the airport. The luggage, the easy smile, the way he had helped me like it was nothing. That Jungkook had just been⊠a random act of kindness. A nice stranger.
âŠRight?
I felt ridiculous for even thinking it. For even considering the possibility.
My Jungkook?
Weâd spoken for maybe fifteen minutes, and I was already putting a claim on him. Maybe I was going crazy.
âHe hasnât dated anyone since he and Sky broke up last year,â Leera said casually, like she was commenting on the weather. âKind of a waste. A guy like that shouldnât stay single for long.â
Mina nodded, but there was something a little sharper in the set of her jaw. âJungkookâs not the type to jump from girl to girl. Heâs waiting for the right one, and when he finds her, heâll know.â
Leera smirked. âWell, thatâs not stopping half of Detroit. Pretty sure every girl in the city knows heâs single.â
Mina groaned, flopping back against the couch cushions. âDonât even get me started on the rink rats. If I have to witness one more girl trying to sneak into the locker room, I might actually lose my mind.â
I laughed, sinking deeper into my pile of pillows. âNoted. Iâll make sure to stay on your good side.â
Mina pointed at me, all faux-seriousness. âGood call.â Then, with a sigh, she added, âI just hate it. Those girls donât care about hockeyâthey donât even like hockey. They just want the bragging rights.â
I nodded, watching the way her protectiveness settled over her like armor. She wasnât just defending Jungkook. She was looking out for all of them. Her brothers, her family.
âWell,â I said, meaning it, âtheyâre lucky to have you watching their backs.â
Minaâs lips quirked up like she wanted to argue, but instead, she just said, âGoodnight, Y/N.â She was already halfway down the hall when she called over her shoulder, âYell if you need anything.â
Leera lingered, watching me for a beat longer. âYou good?â
âYeah,â I said, exhaling, feeling the weight of the day settle over me in the best way. âThanks again. I didnât realize how much I needed this.â
âDonât mention it.â Leeraâs voice was soft, knowing. âIâm up early for work, so sorry if I wake you.â
I waved her off. âIâm used to early mornings.â Too many years of predawn practices had made sure of that.
Leera just nodded, still smiling, before disappearing down the hall.
I sank deeper into the blankets, warmth curling around me like a secret. My body felt heavy, like it had finally gotten permission to stop holding itself together. My eyes fluttered shut, and I didnât even hear Leeraâs door close.
That night, I dreamt of chocolate-brown eyes and tousled black hair.
I woke up the same way I had for the past eight weeksâwith my knee throbbing like it had a personal vendetta against me.
I didnât even have to open my eyes to know today was going to suck. The dull ache had settled in overnight, but now, thanks to yesterdayâs cramped plane ride, it had sharpened into something meaner. I pulled my leg toward my chest, stretching carefully, trying to loosen the stiffness. Moving boxes and setting up furniture? Yeah, that was going to be so much fun. Looked like the painkillers would have to make an appearance.
After a few more stretches, the ache dulled to something that felt less like a knife and more like a bruise, and I finally cracked my eyes open. The room was still wrapped in that early-morning darkness, the kind that sits heavy over Michigan in the winter, refusing to budge. I reached for my phone. 5:48 A.M. The apartment was silent except for the soft hum of the radiator tryingâand failingâto make the place feel less like an icebox.
I wasnât going back to sleep, but I also didnât feel like getting up yet. So I stayed where I was, curled up on Minaâs obnoxiously comfortable couch, staring at the ceiling.
Yesterday came back in pieces. Mina and Leera. The unexpected invitation. And, of course, Jungkook.
Just thinking about him sent an embarrassing little jolt through me, which was so stupid. It wasnât like Iâd never seen an attractive guy before. But Jungkook wasnât just attractive. He was the kind of good-looking that made you blink twice. The kind that made your brain short-circuit for a second while you tried to process if someone could actually look like that.
Okay. Fine. So he was hot. That didnât mean anything. Iâd talked to him for maybe fifteen minutes. That wasnât life-changing. That wasnât even significant.
Except⊠my body had noticed him in a way it never really noticed anyone. Heart pounding. Skin tingling. That stupid, unsteady feeling like Iâd just stepped onto a rink without my skates tied properly. That was significant.
I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. It didnât matter. Even if, by some ridiculous stretch of the imagination, Jungkook was interested, what would I even do about it? Relationships, dating, flirtingâthose were all foreign languages to me. My parents had been a masterclass in what not to do. My dad stayed, but only in the financial sense. And Emily? Her version of love came with conditions. Perform well, and you got a rare âgood job.â Fail, and⊠well.
I didnât know how to do affection. It had always felt awkward, like a sweater that didnât quite fit. Hugs? Hand-holding? Kissing? Yeah, no. Just thinking about it made my pulse do something weird.
I needed to stop. My life wasnât some tragic sob story. So my childhood had more training schedules than sleepoversâbig deal. I had what I needed. Time to move on.
With a groan, I pushed myself upright, my knee protesting the movement. Enough self-pity. Caffeine. I needed caffeine.
The apartment was still dark and silent as I shuffled into the kitchen. I hesitated before opening any cabinetsârummaging through someone elseâs stuff before sunrise felt like a weird level of intrusiveâso I settled for finishing off the last of my soda from last night. The cold fizz helped a little, at least enough to push through the haze of sleep deprivation.
The microwave clock blinked 6:04 A.M. Mina didnât seem like the early riser type. No point in waiting around. I could head back to my place, shower, stretch like the doctor said to, and get my life somewhat together.
By 8:30, I felt almost human again. The stretches had helped, the painkillers had kicked in, and Iâd even managed to scribble out a to-do list. Groceries. Figuring out where my limited furniture should go. Maybe pretending I had any idea how to decorate an apartment.
Mina knocked just as I was finishing up, looking far too awake for this hour and shoving a cup of coffee into my hands like a peace offering. âMorning! Ready for some fun?â
I took the coffee, eyeing her suspiciously. âYouâre a morning person, arenât you?â
She grinned. âIâm an all-the-time person. Youâll get used to it. So, whatâs the plan?â
âThe furnitureâs supposed to be here at nine.â I handed her my list. âAfter that, I figured we could set things up, then go grab the essentials.â
Mina scanned the list and nodded. âSuper Target it is. Weâll knock this out fast.â
While we waited, she plopped onto the floor with a notebook and started sketching out a floor planâlike, a legitimate floor planâcomplete with little boxes for furniture and arrows for âoptimal flow.â She rattled on about color schemes and accent pieces like we were designing a magazine spread.
I just nodded along, knowing I was going to have to veto at least half of it. The eight matching throw pillows? Absolutely not.
When the movers showed up, Mina shifted into full drill-sergeant mode, directing the poor guys with a terrifying level of efficiency. The second they left, another truck pulled up with my boxes from Nevada.
For once, something in my life was actually going smoothly.
Mina eyed my stack of boxes like she was waiting for the rest of them to show up.
âThatâs it?â she asked, incredulous.
âYep. I travel light.â
She frowned, like the concept physically pained her. âY/N, half of these are labeled Books. How do you not have more stuff?â
I shrugged. âLess stuff, less hassle.â
Mina let out the kind of sigh that people reserved for lost causes. âMinimalist doesnât even begin to cover it. Taehyungâs old dorm room had more personality than this place.â
I smirked. âI can see the wheels turning in your head. But letâs focus on getting toilet paper first before we start worrying about âspicing upâ my apartment.â
âFine,â she huffed, crossing her arms. âBut we will revisit this. Iâm not letting you live in a place that looks like a bachelor pad.â
âYouâve known me for fifteen hours,â I pointed out.
âAnd just imagine what itâll be like in a couple of weeks,â she grinned wickedly. âI wonât hold back then.â
âThis is you holding back?â I teased. âYouâre kind of terrifying.â
âIn the best way,â she said, completely unfazed. âNow, ready to hit the store?â
âLetâs go,â I said, grabbing my list. âBut I donât have my car yetâitâs still at the dealership.â
âGood thing Iâm your chauffeur for the day!â she declared, already heading for the door with the kind of enthusiasm that made me feel like I was being drafted into something. I sighed, but I couldnât help smiling as I followed her. Life with Mina, I was quickly learning, was never going to be boring.
âNo worries,â she added, whipping out her phone with the speed of someone who always had a plan. âIâll call Jimin and see if we can borrow his truck.â
A quick call later, we were offâMina behind the wheel of her bright yellow Porsche, driving like she had a personal vendetta against speed limits. The engine roared as she weaved in and out of traffic with terrifying precision. I gripped the door handle, silently promising to live a better life if we made it out of this drive alive.
By the time we pulled up to Jiminâs placeâmiraculously in one pieceâI had officially retired from being a passenger in Minaâs car. We swapped vehicles, and before I knew it, we were barrelling down the road in Jiminâs truck, off to tackle what would soon become the longest shopping trip of my life.
Two hours later, I had come to two conclusions:
OneâI would never, under any circumstances, voluntarily shop with Mina again.
TwoâI actually liked her. A lot.
She was everything I wasnâtâloud where I was quiet, confident where I hesitated, effortlessly stylish while I stuck to jeans and sneakers. And yet, somehow, she just clicked with me. Maybe it was her relentless energy, or maybe it was because she bulldozed past the walls I hadnât even realized Iâd built.
As we wheeled our overloaded carts to the truck, I glanced at my phone. Just past noon, and I was already exhausted.
âIâm telling you, Y/N,â Mina said, tossing bags into the truck bed like she was throwing confetti, âthose shirts were a necessity. When you find one that looks that good, you have to buy it in every color.â
I smirked, shaking my head. Somewhere between arguing over which brand of dish soap smelled less like a hospital and Mina sneakily adding things to the cart, I had realized something horrifying.
Mina could talk me into just about anything.
And there it wasâthree identical Converse button-ups in different colors. Cute? Yes. Necessary? Not even a little.
âIâm not sure how you did it,â I said, giving her a sideways look, âbut somehow, you got me to buy three of the same shirt. Youâre dangerous.â
Mina grinned, completely unapologetic. âYouâll thank me later when youâre rocking those shirts.â
I sighed, shaking my head in mock defeat. âFine. The shirts are cute. But can we find food now? The gimp needs to recharge.â
Mina laughed, slamming the tailgate shut. âHow do you feel about Korean? Thereâs a great place on the way back.â
âPerfect,â I said, already dreaming about a meal that didnât involve protein bars or sad, airport vending machine snacks.
On the drive back, Mina launched into a full-on campaign about how we needed to recruit Jimin to help paint my apartment. She was convinced the walls needed a fresh coat before anything else could happen.
I argued. She countered. I pouted.
She finally caved. Victory.
For now.
Once we got back, we hauled everything inside, dumping the grocery bags onto the kitchen counter in a completely unorganized mess. We shoved the cold stuff into the fridge in a way that would probably horrify any reasonable adult, then collapsed onto the couch with greasy containers of food.
As I hobbled over with my takeout, my crutches snagged on the coffee table, making me stumble.
Not once.
Not twice.
Three times.
Each time, Mina gave me a look that was somewhere between amused and mildly concerned.
âYou okay there, Y/N?â she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I sighed dramatically. âI am so ready to be done with these crutches.â
Navigating life on two feet was hard enough. With crutches? It was like trying to cross a balance beam in roller skates. The countdown to my next doctorâs appointment was on.
After lunch, Mina got lost in a wedding magazine sheâd picked up from the mail, which left me with a rare moment of peace. I stretched out on the couch, my mind finally allowed to wander.
And, of course, it wandered right back to him.
Jungkook.
I didnât know much about himâbarely more than his first nameâand yet here I was, thinking about him like a teenager with a crush. Which was ridiculous. But also undeniable.
He was absurdly good-looking. The kind of guy you noticed in a room. And for some reason, I couldnât shake him.
Bronx. Tuesday nights. Five days from now.
Could I actually work up the nerve to go?
Part of me wanted to. Just to see him again. To feel that weird, electric thing that had sparked between us at the airport.
But another part of meâthe part that had spent years keeping people at a safe distanceâwas already coming up with excuses.
Maybe he was just being nice.
Maybe Bronx was just a casual recommendation, not an invitation.
But then why mention Tuesday?
The uncertainty gnawed at me.
I sighed, half-wishing life was as simple as those old country songsâDo you like me? Check yes or no.
But it wasnât that easy, was it?
Before I could spiral any further into my overthinking, Minaâs phone went offâa series of high-pitched squeals that could only mean one thing: bridal emergency.
She groaned, already getting to her feet, phone pressed to her ear before she was even fully upright. âPromise me you wonât touch anything while Iâm gone,â she said, pointing at me like I was the kind of person who might start unpacking just to be difficult. âLucy and I will help you sort everything later.â
I held up my hands in surrender. âWouldnât dream of it.â
Satisfied, she turned on her heel and disappeared out the door, already deep in crisis management mode.
For once, I didnât fight it. I wasnât about to wrestle with the mountain of bags and boxes on my own. Instead, I let myself sink deeper into the couch, the cushions swallowing me whole. I popped in my earbuds and let my iPod shuffle through songs, the familiar hum of music settling over me like a blanket.
And before I knew it, I was out.
I managed to avoid Mina for two whole days, using jet lag and my aching knee as perfect excuses to dodge any heavy lifting. But, of course, Saturday morning came, and so did sheâarmed with coffee, muffins, and an all-important battle plan. Today, she declared, was Divine Design Day, and reinforcements were on their way. Jimin and Taehyung were due to arrive at 10:00 AM sharp to help paint and set up the loft. I groaned inwardly at the thought of another long day of projects, but I couldnât help but feel a little curious about the guys Mina and Lucy had been raving about.
Apparently, Mina had tried to recruit her brother Jungkook too, but he was busy spending the day with the team doctor after taking a nasty hit during last nightâs game. Iâd heard Mina and Lucy screaming from across the hallâwild cheers when the game went well, furious shouts when the refs blew a call. Theyâd invited me to watch, but Iâd opted for a quiet evening with a book instead. After hearing their passionate recap, though, I made a mental note to join them next time. It sounded like it was quite the spectacle.
âLetâs move it, Y/N,â Mina clapped her hands, already pushing me toward the door. âWe need to hit Home Depot for paint before the guys crawl out of bed.â
I dragged myself along, grumbling as I grabbed my coat, purse, and crutches. âIsnât Lucy coming with us?â
âShe threatened to spike my coffee if I woke her before nine,â Mina laughed. âSheâll catch up when we get back.â
âJust donât go overboard, okay? I donât need my apartment looking like it belongs on the cover of Better Homes & Gardens.â
âYouâre no fun,â Mina pouted, but then a mischievous grin spread across her face. âOkay, fine, how about this: you get veto power, but I promise you wonât need it.â
âDeal,â I sighed, knowing full well this was as good as it was going to get.
We took Lucyâs BMW since it had more trunk space than Minaâs Porscheâwhich, considering how much Mina shopped, made me wonder why she even owned a sports car in the first place. As I buckled in, I was reminded that I still hadnât picked up my own car from the dealership.
âYou know, I really should get my car sometime,â I muttered as I adjusted my seatbelt.
âNot a chance,â Mina scoffed. âYouâre not driving anywhere with those crutches.â
âWell, Iâm hoping to be rid of them after my appointment on Monday. Iâve got a new doctor, Dr. Jeon.â
Minaâs eyes lit up. âDr. Jeon? Thatâs my dad! I canât believe I didnât mention my last name was Jeon.â
âSmall world,â I muttered, still processing. âSo, your dadâs my new doctor?â
âYep! And trust me, youâre in the best hands. Heâs patched up half the hockey players in Michigan.â
Home Depot was its usual chaos, but Mina, ever the drill sergeant of design, had the entire trip organized to perfection. Armed with measurements, color swatches, and detailed diagrams, she had us in and out in under an hour. The fact that she could pull that off while also looking like she belonged in a magazine made me half-wonder if she secretly had superpowers.
For the first time that morning, I felt a spark of excitementâseeing my empty, bare-walled loft finally coming to life didnât seem so bad after all.
When we pulled up to the building, Jiminâs truck and a rugged-looking Jeep were already parked out front.
âRight on time,â Mina said, grabbing her phone. âIâll call the guys and have them unload everything. And donât even think about protesting, Y/N.â
âI wasnât going to,â I said, raising my hands in mock surrender.
âNo, but I know you hate asking for help,â Mina added sweetly, though there was no arguing with her tone. âToo bad. Youâre not lifting a finger today.â
âMina, your dadâs my doctor, not you,â I teased, but she just stuck her tongue out at me while dialing.
âWeâre outsideâcome unload,â she barked into the phone, then slipped it back into her purse with a satisfied grin.
Within minutes, Lucy appeared with two guys in tow. One of them was immediately tackled by Mina, who launched herself at him like a human cannonball. He caught her with ease, laughing as if heâd done it a thousand times before.
The other guyâwho I assumed was Taehyungâhad his arm casually draped around Lucyâs shoulders and looked like he could bench-press a truck. He was huge, his broad chest stretching the fabric of his jacket, but there was this boyish grin that somehow made him less intimidating. His dark hair was cut close, and his deep brown eyes twinkled with a playful, mischievous glint.
Lucy led him over to me, and Taehyung sized me up with a cheeky smirk. âSo, youâre the fresh meat, huh?â
âThatâs me,â I replied with a laugh. âStraight off the butcher block.â
âI like this one,â he said to Lucy, ruffling her hair. âSheâs got sass. Can we keep her?â
âYouâre such an idiot,â Lucy shot back, shoving him playfully.
Taehyung glanced at my crutches. âWhatâs with the wingmen?â
âHuh?â
âThe crutches,â he clarified, grinning. âYour wingmen.â
âOh, right. Sports injury.â
âA player, huh?â His grin widened, teasing me.
âNot exactly,â I said, laughing.
âI dunno, Lou,â he said to Lucy, âI donât think sheâll keep up with us.â
âKeep it up, Tae,â Lucy teased, nudging him, âor I might dump you for her.â
âEh, Jimin can do the heavy lifting. Iâll just carry the cripple,â Taehyung said with a wicked grin, and before I could protest, he scooped me up like I was weightless. A startled yelp escaped me as my crutches clattered to the sidewalk. And just like that, I was cradled in his arms like a rag doll.
âTaehyung!â Mina shouted, pulling herself away from Jimin to storm over. âSheâs injured! You canât just throw her around like that.â
âSheâs tiny, almost as small as you,â Taehyung laughed, totally unbothered. âBesides, if sheâs sticking around, sheâs gotta get used to a little manhandling.â
âShe wonât be sticking around if you scare her off by treating her like a sack of potatoes,â Mina snapped, hands on her hips.
Taehyung just grinned and looked down at me. âYou donât mind, do you, Y/N?â
Still processing the fact that I was four feet off the ground in the arms of a complete stranger, I blinked, and to my surprise, I nodded. âUh, sure, Taehyung,â I muttered, feeling oddly at ease despite the absurdity of the situation. His energy, his laugh, the warmth in his eyesâit was impossible to feel uncomfortable around him.
âSee? Y/Nâs my homegirl now,â Taehyung said with a triumphant grin, like heâd just won an award for best human being.
âOh, you know it, G,â Lucy chimed in, laughing like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
âChim, come meet my new best friend!â Taehyung called over his shoulder, still holding me like it was the most natural thing in the worldâlike this wasnât a situation where I probably should have been, I donât know, walking?
Jimin, who had been watching the whole circus unfold with a quiet, amused smile, finally made his way over. He extended his hand, his voice as soft and melodic as the warm look in his eyes. âPleasure to meet you, Y/N,â he said, each word carrying a kind of gentleness that made it impossible not to like him instantly.
Still awkwardly perched on Taehyungâs back, I reached out to shake his hand, the usual wave of discomfort that came with meeting new people creeping up. But something about Jiminâs calm presence, those kind eyes of his, made it easier than I expected. âDonât worry,â he added with a knowing grin, âyouâll get used to this bunch of lunatics.â
I let out a small laugh, the tension in my shoulders easing just a little. âIâm starting to think youâre right.â
âAlright, enough with the pleasantries!â Minaâs voice cut through, sharp and loud, as always. She clapped her hands with military precision. âWe didnât drag you guys here for social hour. Time to work!â
âYes, maâam,â Jimin said, snapping a playful salute before heading over to the trunk to start unloading supplies.
I wriggled a bit on Taehyungâs back, trying to find a way down. âOkay, Taehyung, time to put me down.â
âNope,â he replied, patting my leg like it was a done deal. âI told you, Iâm carrying you in.â
âI can walk, you know,â I protested, feeling the need to remind him that I still had two fully-functioning legs, even if they werenât exactly in peak condition. âAnd Jimin could probably use your help.â
âJiminâs got it covered,â Taehyung said nonchalantly, grabbing a bag of paint supplies with one hand while still managing to hold me securely on his back with the other. âLucy, grab her crutchesâaka Goose and Maverick.â
âGoose and Maverick?â I raised an eyebrow, thoroughly confused.
âYour wingmen,â Taehyung explained with utmost seriousness, like I was supposed to get this. âYou canât fly without them.â
âYouâre ridiculous, Taehyung.â
âI know,â he replied with a wide, disarming grin. âThatâs what makes me so lovable.â
And with that, he hauled us both inside, with Jimin, Mina, and Lucy following behind, their arms loaded with paint cans and brushes.
By the time we made it up to my apartment, Iâd stopped trying to escape Taehyungâs âmanhandling.â It was clear this âDivine Design Dayâ was more like a crazy, fun-filled bootcamp than your typical painting party. But weirdly, I didnât mind. Between the laughter, the constant banter, and the easy camaraderie, I realized somethingâI was smiling more than I had in a long time. The tension Iâd carried around for months, maybe even years, seemed to melt away with every joke and every shared moment of laughter.
As the day went on, I noticed something else: this wasnât just about painting or setting up furniture. This was their way of pulling me into their world, a world that felt warm and open in a way I hadnât experienced in years. By lunchtime, I had Taehyung laughing so hard he nearly dropped his paint roller, and I felt myself slipping back into sarcasm, something I hadnât felt comfortable doing in a while.
Lucy, Taehyung, and Jimin worked seamlessly together, taping off the walls and laying down tarps while Mina orchestrated the whole operation like a general overseeing her troops. At first, I tried to stay out of their way, but before long, I found myself pulled into the actionâsitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by paint splatters, as they worked around me. It felt oddly comforting, this strange, unexpected bond forming around me.
By late afternoon, the loft had transformed. Weâd painted two rooms and were almost done with a third. The place was beginning to feel like an actual home, a place I could settle into. The thought of unpacking didnât feel as overwhelming anymore, so I decided to start with something familiar: my books.
Jimin carried the three boxes over like they weighed nothing, flashing me a smile before heading back to help Taehyung with the last of the painting. I opened the first box, and immediately, nostalgia hit me like a wave. Books had always been my safe haven. The feel of the pages, the scent of old paperâit was like stepping back into a world where everything made sense. As I started stacking them by genre and alphabetically, a sense of calm washed over me.
âHey, Y/N!â Minaâs voice called out from the living room, interrupting my quiet moment. âDo you want us to start unpacking these other boxes? The paintâs dry enough now.â
âYeah, sure,â I called back, not thinking much of it. âThere shouldnât be much in them.â
Minaâs voice got closer as she poked around. âOneâs labeled âMiscellaneous,â and the other doesnât have anything written on it.â
âHuh, thatâs weird,â I said, frowning slightly. âI thought I labeled everything.â
âWell, want me to open the mystery box?â Mina asked, her curiosity piqued.
âGo for it,â I said, feeling a small tug of curiosity myself. What could it be?
I heard the familiar sound of tape being ripped open, followed by Minaâs high-pitched squeal that could probably be heard by the neighbors. It echoed through the loft, loud enough to make me jump.
âGeez, Mina,â I muttered, stacking another book on the shelf. âAre you trying to summon every dog in the city?â
âY/N!â Minaâs voice was filled with barely-contained excitement. When she popped her head around the half-wall, her eyes were wide with mischief, the kind of look that usually meant trouble.
âWhat is it, Mina?â I asked, wary.
She strutted over, something in her hands, her face lit with that mischievous gleam. And then, she held it up.
It was the plaque. That plaque. The one my mom had made after the 2020 Olympics, with âOlympic Silver Medalistâ gleaming beneath my name. My stomach dropped, like someone had yanked the floor out from under me.
Shit.
Everything inside me screamed to grab it, shove it back in the box, pretend Iâd never seen it. But I was frozen, staring at that plaque like it had just upended everything I was trying to build here. There it was, in all its shiny, unapologetic gloryâmy past, casually standing right in the middle of my future like it belonged. Like it had every right to.
âCare to explain why you never mentioned this?â Mina teased, her grin stretching wide like she had just found the golden ticket.
I groaned and rubbed a hand over my face. Of course, of course this would come up now. I wasnât ready for this conversationânot now, not ever. âWhere did you even find that?â
âIn the unmarked box,â she said, like that was all the explanation needed.
Of course. The unmarked box. Thanks, Emily, I thought, bitterly. Of all the things my mother couldâve sent, this had to make the trip.
Mina was looking at me like she was a detective whoâd just cracked the case. Her eyes were practically burning holes through me, waiting for me to spill the beans. I sighed, knowing I couldnât avoid it. âWas there anything else in there?â I asked, stalling, even though I already knew exactly what else was hiding in that box.
âOh, plenty,â she replied, clearly loving this. âOr should I say... Y/N Y/L/N, Olympic Silver Medalist and National Champion Figure Skater? Care to explain why this little tidbit never came up in conversation?â
Her words hung there between us, playful but pointed, and I sighed again. Mina wasnât mad, not at all. She was just amusedâlike sheâd just uncovered some secret Easter egg in a movie she wasnât expecting.
âOkay, yeah,â I muttered, feeling the flush creep up my neck. âYou got me. I was going to tell you eventually, I just... didnât want it to be a thing, you know?â I looked down at my hands, fidgeting with the spine of a book. âItâs not like Iâm ashamed of it. I just... liked that you didnât know. It was easier that way. I could just be Y/N, without all the... assumptions or whatever.â
Minaâs face softened, and she lowered the plaque with a quiet chuckle. âI get it, Y/N. Honestly, I do. And for what itâs worth, it doesnât change anything. Lucy and I? Weâre still the same girls whoâve been feeding you pizza and hauling in your groceries.â She gave my arm a gentle squeeze. âAnd trust me, Jimin and Taehyung? Theyâre probably the last people on earth who care about figure skating. No crazed fans here.â
Relief flooded through me, but a little bit of that lingering embarrassment stayed in the back of my mind. âThanks,â I said, my voice quiet. âIâm sorry for not saying something earlier. It just... it felt good to be normal for a while.â
Mina grinned, nudging me with her shoulder. âNormalâs overrated. And you didnât lieâyou just... omitted a few sparkly details.â
I laughed, feeling the tension start to melt. We made our way back to the box. Inside, it wasnât just the plaqueâthere were old photos, magazines, medals, and even some of my old costumes, glittering with sequins. It was like a time capsule from a life I thought Iâd left behind, packed up meticulously and sent across the country by Emily, my ever-persistent mother.
Pinned to one of the costumes was a note in her unmistakable handwriting: Just in case.
âSubtle, Emily,â I muttered, tossing the costume back into the box.
âWhoâs Emily?â Mina asked, plopping down beside me on the floor.
âMy mom,â I replied, letting out a long sigh.
Mina nodded, picking up one of the magazines with my face plastered on the cover. She turned it over in her hands like she was still trying to process it. âSo... Iâm guessing you didnât pack all this yourself?â
âNope,â I said, shaking my head. âI left all my skating stuff back in Vegas. But Emilyâshe has her own ideas about whatâs best. She thought I might need a little âreminderâ of my accomplishments.â
âOr a lot of reminders,â Mina said, holding up another sparkly costume, her eyebrows raised in mock surprise.
I snatched the costume from her, laughing despite myself. âWell, I didnât exactly want all of this here. Iâm not sure if Iâll ever skate again, so I didnât feel like living in sequins and medals every day, you know?â
Minaâs grin faded a little, and she placed her hand on my knee, her touch gentle. âI didnât know. Iâm sorry, Y/N.â
âItâs fine,â I said, trying to push away the heaviness creeping into my chest. âIâm dealing with it. I just... didnât think Iâd need all this while Iâm... figuring things out.â
We sat there in a quiet, heavy silence, surrounded by the ghosts of my past life that refused to stay buried. I glanced down at the shimmering fabric in my lap, running my fingers over the beads, feeling too familiar, too close to everything I was trying to leave behind.
âAnd thatâs exactly why she sent it all,â I added, offering a bitter smile. âIn Emilyâs world, this injury is just me being dramatic. I should be back on the ice by now, training for my next competition.â
âThatâs insane,â Mina scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. âDoesnât she know whatâs going on with your knee?â
âEmily only hears what she wants to hear,â I half-laughed, half-sighed. âBut donât worry. She canât push me into anything anymore. Iâm in control now.â
âWell, whatever you need, weâre here for you, Y/N,â Mina said softly, her words warm and solid. âWhatever you need, whenever you need it.â
I smiled, a warmth spreading through my chest that chased away some of the darkness. âThanks, Mina. I know Iâm not great at all this emotional stuff, but... Iâm really glad I met you. Itâs been a long time since I had real friends.â
Mina beamed, knocking her knee against mine. âBest friends, Y/N. Not just regular friends.â
I nudged her back, laughing, my heart feeling a little lighter. âYeah, best friends.â
We sat there, sprawled out on the floor, amidst the remnants of my past lifeâphotos, costumes, memories of who I used to be. And for the first time in a long time, the silence between us wasnât uncomfortable. It was easy. And, for once, I didnât mind the mess.
"Hey, lazy bums!" Lucyâs voice rang out from the bedroom where sheâd been helping Jimin and Taehyung tape off the last wall for painting. "Are you two just gonna lounge around while we do all the work?"
"Yep, that was the plan," Mina said, not missing a beat.
"Sounds good to me," I chimed in, grinning.
Lucy appeared in the doorway, her grin already in place as she plopped down next to us on the floor like she had nowhere better to be. "Well, if youâre gonna be lazy, I might as well join you."
Mina shot me a sly look and turned to Lucy. "So, Lucy," she drawled, dragging out the words, "did you know that Y/N here is a big-time figure skater?"
Lucyâs eyebrows shot up for a second before she shrugged like it was no big deal. "No shit? I knew your name sounded familiar," she said, totally unfazed. "Thatâs pretty cool."
Mina gave me a look that clearly said See? No big deal, and I tried not to laugh at how casually Lucy took it.
"You know, Y/N," Lucy said, leaning back on her elbows, "you kinda kick ass out there."
I couldnât help but laugh. "Thanks, Lucy."
"Seriously," Mina added, rolling over onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. "The things you can do with your legs... If I were that flexible, Jimin wouldnât let me out of the bedroom for days!"
I giggled and shook my head. "Please, Mina, youâre giving me way too much credit."
Lucy grinned, mimicking Minaâs pose. "Sheâs got a point, Y/N. All that flexibility? Total game-changer in the bedroom. Think of the positions you could get into."
"Wow, thanks for the confidence boost, Lucy," I joked, feeling my face heat up. "Glad to know Iâve got you all worked up."
"Not me, you dork," Lucy said, with an exaggerated eye roll. "Guys. You know, the ones who actually matter in this scenario."
"Well, I wouldnât really know," I said, trying to keep my tone light, though my chest was tightening a little. "But hey, good to know Iâve got options. Stripper? Kama Sutra demonstrator? Naked contortionist?"
Mina suddenly sat up, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Wait a second," she said, her voice suddenly full of disbelief. "Wouldnât know? Y/N, are you... a virgin?" she asked, as if I had just confessed to being a secret agent.
Heat surged to my cheeks, and before I could even think about how to respond, I shot up like I had just been caught doing something illegal. "Okay, I think thatâs enough prying into my personal life for one day," I called over my shoulder, tryingâand failingâto sound casual. Embarrassment crawled up my neck like wildfire. "Letâs save the deep dives for when weâre knee-deep in a tub of Ben & Jerryâs at some inevitable sleepover. Pillow fights optional."
"Oh no, Y/N," Minaâs voice rang out behind me, dripping with playful menace. "Weâre your best friends nowâthereâs no such thing as âenough prying.â" She paused dramatically, and I could practically hear her smirking. "But fine, keep your little secrets for now. Just know that Lucy and I are official Y/N Y/L/N spelunkers. No secret is too deep, no skeleton too buried. Weâll dig it all up eventually."
I couldnât help but laugh, shaking my head as I rifled through the fridge, pretending to look for somethingâanythingâthat would change the subject. The truth was, with Mina and Lucy around, there was no way in hell my past was going to stay hidden for long. They were relentless, the kind of friends who didnât just scratch the surface. They dug. They prodded. They excavated until they hit bedrock. And maybe that wasnât such a bad thing.
Monday morning, I woke up before dawn, as usual. But instead of jumping out of bed and rushing straight for the coffee maker, I stayed under the soft feather pillows that Mina had insisted would help me sleep better. I wasnât sure they had, but for the first time in a while, it felt easier to just stay there, letting the weight of the day press down on me slowly, like a shadow growing across the room.
Today was the day my path would be decided. I might have been being melodramatic, but it was hard not to be when the appointment felt like the turning point. The moment Iâd have to choose which way to go. Iâd been stalled at this fork for too long. It was time to pick a direction, any direction.
A lot of that decision would depend on the new doctor. Dr. Banerjee back in Vegas hadnât been hopeful. He practically told me not to get my hopes up. Would Dr. Jeon say the same? Emily had made it clear she thought I was just milking the injury, playing the drama queen. And sometimes, I wondered if she was right. Was I just dragging this out? My knee still throbbed when I pushed it too hard, but maybe I was just being weak. Maybe I needed to toughen up, ignore the pain, and push through.
Enough lying in bed. The answer would come soon enough.
I climbed out of bed and started my usual morning stretches, paying close attention to how my knee felt. The lack of soreness gave me a little spark of hope. My flexibility was still there, tooâthankfully, I hadnât lost that during the months of inactivity. That was what had made me stand out on the ice, those long, graceful spiral sequences. If I could still do them, maybe I could skate again. And if I could skate again, Iâd need to get back to my Pilates routine, pronto. The longer I waited, the harder it would be to regain the strength and flexibility Iâd need.
But for now, all I could do was stretch and hope. The future could wait a little longer.
The truth was, I missed the rush that exercise always gave me. The kind of energy that made my limbs feel electric, the burn that felt almost like a reward. Sitting around, doing nothing, had turned out to be more suffocating than Iâd imagined. The first week after surgery had been kind of a reliefâlike a forced break from the rigid schedule that had ruled my life for so long. I had sprawled out on the couch, devoured three Jane Austen novels in a row, only stopping for food, bathroom breaks, and the occasional nap. It was pure bliss.
But then... the days started to blur. By mid-December, boredom had sunk its teeth in, and I could feel it gnawing at me. Emily, of course, decided I needed a âpush.â So, she dragged me back to the rink to âknock some sense into me,â as she put it. The rehab exercises Dr. Banerjee prescribed werenât enough for her. She complained that it was all taking too long, and after one mortifying demonstration where she shoved me out onto the ice and I immediately fell flat on my ass, she finally stopped insisting I skate.
That didnât mean she backed off, though. Oh no. She still had me show up every day to âconsultâ with Yoongi, my coach, about what came next. But it only made me feel trapped. Like a prisoner pacing in the perimeter of a shrinking cell. That was when I started thinking about leaving. With Emily always there, it was like I couldnât breathe. I couldnât hear myself over the sound of her voice barking orders and issuing demands. If my career was over, I needed space to figure out what came next, and staying in Vegas wasnât going to give me that.
Dr. Banerjee had mentioned a few specialists in Michigan who had experience with my kind of injury. As soon as he said it, I latched onto the idea of moving back. The doctors would satisfy Emilyâs need for reassurance, and the distance would give me the space to breathe, to be. She didnât like it at firstâsaid it was a waste of time, of resourcesâbut when she saw I wasnât backing down, she caved. Not without conditions, of course.
She found the apartment, bought the car, booked the doctorâs appointments, arranged the flights. The only thing I cared about was leaving as soon as possible. So, I did. I boarded a plane, said goodbye to the warmth of Nevada, and didnât look back.
And here I was now. Sitting at the edge of a decision. Despite the tight knot of anxiety in my stomach, I had to admit, moving back was starting to feel like the right choice. There was something about Michigan that felt more like home than anywhere Iâd been in years. It wasnât just the cold air or the cityâs winding streets; it was something deeper, something about being away from the noise of expectations, the pressure to constantly prove myself. Here, I could just be Y/N, and for the first time in a long while, that didnât feel like a hollow title.
I went through the motions of getting readyâshowering, drying my hair, pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweater. I wasnât sure if the routine was helping calm my nerves or just delaying the inevitable. I ate a lemon poppy seed muffin, wiped the crumbs off the counter, and tried to ignore the tension creeping up my shoulders. My mind kept drifting back to the appointment. What would Dr. Jeon say? Was I still Y/N Y/L/N, competitive skater? Or was I about to become someone else entirely?
A knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts. Minaâs voice floated in, cheerful as ever. âMorning!â she called out as she let herself in. Iâd given her a spare key yesterdayâmostly because she insisted, and I hadnât come up with a good reason not to.
âGood morning,â I said, my voice lighter than I felt, as she waltzed into the kitchen, all bright-eyed and grinning.
âHappy Lose-the-Crutches Day!â she proclaimed with a teasing lilt in her voice.
âYouâre weird,â I said, shaking my head.
âOh, come on, Y/N. You canât tell me youâre not excited to ditch your flyboys.â She shot a glance at the crutches leaning against the wall. âMaybe with fewer appendages to trip over, youâll stop bumping into things so much.â
âDoubt it,â I replied, holding back a smile. âIâve always been a klutz. Kind of ironic, donât you think? Champion figure skater who trips over air.â
âNot ironic,â Mina said, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. âYou were born to be on the ice. Thatâs all.â
I raised an eyebrow at her, a little skeptical. âYou really think so?â
âDefinitely,â she said, her tone sincere, her eyes steady. It made me pause. âIâve seen you skate, Y/N. Itâs like watching something otherworldly.â
Iâd heard words like that beforeâusually from articles or fansâbut hearing it from Mina, with that quiet belief in her eyes, felt different. It felt like maybe I could believe it too, if I let myself.
I cleared my throat, avoiding her gaze. âThanks, Mina.â
She grinned, brightening up. âCome on, babe. Letâs get going. Grab Goose and Maverick and letâs jet.â
I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous names sheâd given my crutches but grabbed them anyway. The sooner this was over, the sooner Iâd know what came next. Mina and I headed out, slipping into her car as she cranked the heat.
âThanks for chauffeuring me,â I said, trying to make light of the anxiety gnawing at me.
âHow many times do I have to tell you?â she laughed. âIâm happy to do it. Besides, it gives me an excuse to pop in and see Dad. Makes me look like the âgood child.ââ
âI have a feeling you donât need much help keeping that title.â
âTrue,â she said, her voice filled with fondness. âBut I like stopping by the hospital now and then. Itâs funny how different we all areâmy brothers and meâbut weâve always been close. Taehyungâs a tank on the ice, and Jungkookâs fast as hell, but theyâve always looked out for me. And growing up with them... well, letâs just say Iâve had a lot of practice handling troublemakers.â
"How did they end up playing on the same team, anyway? Doesnât that kind of thing usually not happen?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the knot tightening in my chest.
âIt doesnât,â she admitted. âTaehyung wasnât a big name in the draft picks. Being a hometown boy helped, but once the Red Wings saw him play, they knew they had a hidden gem. Then Jungkook came up the next year. Having Taehyung already on the team definitely helped his chances. Plus, itâs good PRâtwo hometown brothers in the NHL.â
âGuess Iâll have to learn a little more about hockey,â I said, offering a half-smile.
âY/N, trust me. Youâre in Michigan now. Itâs practically a requirement.â She winked at me as we pulled into the hospital parking lot. The knot of anxiety tightened in my chest again, but it didnât feel the same. The difference now was, for the first time, I felt like I had a little more control over where I went from hereâeven if I had no idea what the next steps would look like.
The uncertainty was still there, but it didnât feel like a shadow I had to run from. For now, it was just another stretch of ice Iâd have to navigate. And if I stumbled a bit along the way, well, I could live with that.
âThatâs pretty cool,â I said, and Minaâs face lit up, her voice picking up speed as she launched into more stories about her brothers and their love for hockey.
âYeah, theyâre living the dream. Mom and Dad were all in on their decision to go pro. A lot of the hockey parents we knew were pulling their kids out, saying they should focus on school or get 'real' jobs. But my parents never did that. They always cared more about us finding something we loved, not just something practical.â
As she kept talking, sharing memories of their childhood, I could practically feel the warmth of the Jeon familyâs bond. It was one of those things you could almost touch, the kind of closeness that felt familiar and distant all at once. Taehyung, I learned, was adopted. His birth mother had been Mina's auntâYuri's sisterâwhoâd passed away when he was a baby. The Jeons had taken him in, raised him as their own, and made him the oldest son.
There was something comforting in the way Mina talked about them. It was like hearing about a life Iâd never had but always kind of wished I could. A life where family wasnât just a word, but a real, tangible thing.
We pulled into the parking lot of St. Josephâs, and I felt the weight of it settle over me. Signing in at the front desk felt like signing away the last of my denial. And when the nurse called my name five minutes later, the nerves hit, deep and clawing at my chest.
In the exam room, everything smelled like antiseptic, cold and sterile, the kind of chill that seeps into your bones from the linoleum floors. The nurse did her usual routineâheight, weight, blood pressureâand then left us alone. Mina sat in a chair next to the exam table, and I perched on the edge, my hands folded together so tightly that my knuckles were almost white.
It was ridiculous how fast my pulse was racing. Iâd been through so much worse beforeâcompetitions where the world was watching, where one slip-up could cost everything. But this... this was different. This was my future, maybe even who I was, dangling on a thread. Figure skating didnât give you time to waste. I always thought I had more. Now it felt like the curtain was coming down, and I was stuck in the dark.
My foot started tapping a nervous rhythm against the cabinet. I bit my lip hard enough that it almost hurt. Mina leaned over and gently placed a hand on my foot, stilling it.
âYou okay?â she asked softly.
I nodded, but it felt like a lie.
Before I could say anything, the door swung open, and in walked a man I assumed was Dr. Jeon. If this was Minaâs dad, then he was definitely proof that some people aged like fine wine. He had salt-and-pepper hair slicked back in a way that looked effortless but somehow stylish. His brown eyes were warm but sharp, taking in the room with a kind of calm authority that made me wonder if Michigan doctors all looked like movie stars instead of regular people.
âY/N Y/L/N?â he asked, his voice shifting from professional to something warmer as his gaze landed on Mina. âOh hey der, Mina! Didnât see ya there!â
I almost snorted. Did he seriously just say âhey derâ? I felt like Iâd stepped into a Michigan stereotype, except, instead of flannel-wearing folks talking about fishing, everyone here looked like they belonged on the cover of a magazine.
Mina jumped up to give him a hug, and the bond between them was clear. The way his arm slid around her shoulders, the way she grinned so wide her eyes sparkled as she introduced me.
âY/Nâs my new neighbor! Thought Iâd bring her by to say hi,â she said, practically bouncing.
âWell, thatâs just great! Hope she hasnât been driving you too nuts already,â Dr. Jeon said, the playful gleam in his eyes making me smile, even though my nerves were still jittering.
âNo, Minaâs been great, Dr. Jeon,â I said, but my voice came out a little tighter than I wanted.
âPlease, call me Suho,â he said with a grin. âAny friend of Minaâs is a friend of mine. And if youâre hanging out with her, Iâm sure weâll be seeing a lot of each other.â
âOh! That reminds me,â Mina interrupted, her eyes suddenly wide with mischief. âAre you and Mom going to the game on Friday?â
âYou betcha! Wouldnât miss it.â
Mina turned to me, practically glowing. âY/N, do you want to come to the Red Wings game with us? Lucy and I are going, and we always meet up with the guys afterward. Itâs a blast! Please say youâll go?â
âMina, youâre pulling out the puppy lip,â I warned, though I felt my resolve weakening.
âI know! It works every time. Come on, please?â
I sighed, feeling the last of my resistance crumble. âFine. Iâll go.â
âYesss!â she cheered, her excitement contagious. âThis is going to be so awesome. Oh, and can I pick out your outfit?â
âAlright, Mina,â Suho interrupted with a chuckle. âLetâs not get ahead of ourselves. I need to actually, you know, consult with my patient here.â
âOops, right,â Mina said, sheepishly. âIâll be in the waiting room. See you Friday, Dad!â She kissed his cheek before bouncing out of the room, leaving behind a silence that felt almost too loud.
âSheâs always been like that?â I asked, half-amused, half in disbelief.
Suho chuckled, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. âYah, sheâs always been a bit of a firecracker. But she means well. Now, letâs take a look at that knee, shall we?â
The fluttering in my stomach kicked up again as he flipped open a manila folder. âYour doctor in Nevada sent over your records,â he said, drawing out the âaâ in Nevada in a way that made me bite back a smile. He caught my look and grinned. âWhatâs the matter? My Michigan accent getting to ya?â
I let out a breathy laugh, the tension starting to ease. âSorry, Iâm still readjusting. Itâs been a while since Iâve lived here.â
He leaned in like he was about to share a secret. âOh, donâtcha worry. Weâll have ya speakinâ like a northerner again in no time, ya betcha.â
The exaggerated drawl pulled a groan out of me, but it was hard to stay tense with him grinning like that. The atmosphere in the room felt lighter, easier to breathe in. Maybe it wasnât just the change of scenery that would help me adjust. Maybe it was moments like this.
âAlright, letâs get down to business,â he said, flipping open my medical records with a practiced flick of his wrist. His voice shifted, more serious now. âLooks like you tore your ACL pretty badly back in November and had surgery not long after. I see you also had a concussion from the fall?â
I nodded, the words tight in my throat as the memory of that day washed over me. The fall. It was one of those moments that replays on a loop in your head, like a nightmare you canât escape. Every time I closed my eyes, there it was again.
âThe good news is,â Suho continued, âit looks like the concussionâs healed up nicely. And your kneeâwell, itâs a long road, but youâre making progress. Any soreness left?â
âYeah,â I said, my voice tighter than I wanted. âIt still aches if Iâm on my feet for too long. Iâve been doing the rehab exercises, but itâs slow. Really slow.â
Suho nodded and gently moved my leg, testing the range of motion. âThatâs to be expected. Recovery from something like this doesnât happen overnight. Itâll still be sore. It might even throb as you rebuild strength, but youâre healing. Youâre making progress. I think we can start transitioning you off the crutches. Take it slow, thoughâwalk short distances without them at first, see how it feels.â
His words hit me like a lifeline I didnât even know I needed. âSo... does that mean I can skate again? Not right now, but... eventually?â
Suho met my eyes. His face was serious again. âIf you stick with the rehab, listen to your body, and donât rush it, then yes, I think itâs possible. But itâs going to take time. Patience is going to be key.â He paused, his gaze anchoring me. âWe can start you on the treadmill by the end of the week. Slow, steady walking, just to get your knee used to the movement again. Maybeâjust maybeâif everything goes well, we can start with some light skating. No jumps, no spinsâjust laps.â
Relief hit me like a wave, a warmth that spread through me like the first hint of daylight after a long night. It wasnât a promise, but it was something. And right now, that was enough.
âThank you,â I whispered, my voice fragile, barely holding it together.
Suho smiled, kind but firm. âOne step at a time, Y/N. Youâre not in this alone.â
I sat there, absorbing the weight of his words. This wasnât the end. It was a new beginning, a different kind of fight. But it was mine.
He flipped through my records, his voice settling back into its practical tone. âKeep up with the therapy. Letâs schedule a follow-up in early April to see how youâre doing. Any questions?â
One question burned in my chest, the one Iâd been too scared to ask for months. My heart pounded in my ears, and I swallowed hard, trying to push past the lump in my throat. What if he said what Dr. Banerjee had said? That the damage was too severe? That Iâd never skate again? That Iâd never compete again?
âYes, Y/N?â Suhoâs voice was calm, patient, his eyes urging me to ask.
I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to speak. âWill I be able to compete again?â
For a split second, he didnât answer, and in that pause, the whole world seemed to hold its breath with me. Then he exhaled slowly, his voice careful. âThatâs a good question. Itâs possible. A lot of athletes come back from ACL tears, some even making a full recovery. But a lot depends on how well the next few months go. Youâve got to retrain your knee without overdoing it.â
He leaned forward slightly, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. âThe next month is crucial. Youâre going to start feeling like your kneeâs back to normal, but thatâs when youâre most at risk for re-injury. Itâll be tempting to jump right back into your routine, but youâve got to stick to the plan. If you can do that, weâll reassess in April.â
I nodded, my mind spinning with all the things he was telling me. There was so much to process, and the fearâGod, the fearâstill lingered like a shadow, gnawing at the edges of my hope. But then Suhoâs next words broke through that darkness.
âY/N, I donât want you to lose hope. I know itâs frustrating, but mental determination is going to play a huge role in your recovery. If you stay patient and committed, thereâs every reason to believe youâll get back to where you were.â
A tiny spark of hope flared in my chest. âReally?â I asked, barely daring to believe it.
Suho smiled, a warmth in his eyes that made me believe him just a little more. âI canât guarantee anything, but if you stay the course, thereâs a good chance youâll be back on that iceâmaybe even as an Olympian again.â
The weight Iâd been carrying for months felt a little lighter. A little. I felt like maybeâjust maybeâthere was something to hope for. âThanks, Dr. Jeâuh, Suho,â I corrected myself, sheepish at the grin he shot me.
âNo need to thank me,â he said with a chuckle. âThis oneâs all on you. Just donât push yourself too hard. Thereâll be plenty of time for that later, once youâre healed.â
I gave him a mock salute. âYes, sir.â
We wrapped things up, and as I grabbed my crutches to leave, Suho gave me one last smile. âSee you Friday night... at the game.â
âOh, right! See you then.â
The cold January air hit me as I stepped outside, sharp and biting, but I didnât mind. Not today. Hope had a way of making everything feel a little warmer, even when the world was still so cold.
After the appointment, Mina insisted on lunch, and we made our way to our favorite cafĂ©. The kind of place where the staff knows your name, and the menuâs practically burned into your brain. Then, she drove me straight to the dealership where Emily had promised my new car would be waiting.
As we pulled up, my stomach did that familiar drop when I saw it: a shiny Mercedes Benz SUV, gleaming under the dealership lights like it was posing for a magazine cover. It screamed luxuryâso Emily. So her. I mean, of course it was a Mercedes. Nothing less for someone like her. But to me, it was just... a reminder of how little she really understood me.
I shouldnât have been surprised, but there it wasâthe familiar weight of disappointment settling in my chest like a stone.
I reluctantly climbed into the car, too shiny and new, the leather too pristine beneath me. As I pulled out of the lot, my phone buzzedâEmily, of course. Sheâd been waiting for me to finish the appointment so she could call and get her feedback. Normally, Iâd answer right away, quick to please. But not today. I hit decline, sending her straight to voicemail. If she got upset later, I could always claim I was driving, still getting used to the new car.
We arrived back at the apartment just as Lucy was pulling in, practically radiating her usual excitement. As soon as she saw us, she bounded over, brimming with that energy that made me laugh even when I wasnât in the mood. The two girlsâalways together, always bouncing off each otherâdecided it was the perfect time to test out my "sea legs" with a walk around the block.
âGuys, itâs January. In Michigan. And you want to go for a walk?â I asked, raising an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.
âCome on, Y/N, youâre a figure skater! Donât tell me you canât handle the cold,â Mina teased, already bundling up in an impressive number of layers.
âIâll manage,â I said, surprised at their enthusiasm. Honestly, I wasnât sure I could handle it, but they seemed so excited, I couldnât bring myself to say no.
âItâs twenty-two degrees. Practically a heat wave!â Lucy laughed, wrapping a scarf around her neck like she was about to conquer Everest.
We set off, no real destination in mind. It felt surprisingly good to walk without crutches, to breathe in the sharp winter air, to move like I had control again. Like I wasnât just waiting for my body to catch up with me.
Less than a block in, my phone rang againâEmily. I sighed and quickly muted it before either of them could notice.
âWho is it?â Mina asked, glancing over at me with a curious look in her eye.
âMy mom,â I shrugged. âIâll talk to her later.â
âYou were living with her until last week, right?â Lucy asked, her voice full of that inquisitive, "I-want-to-know-all-about-you" tone that she never quite managed to hide.
âYeah,â I said, glancing up at the sky, trying to gather my thoughts. âMy parents split when I was a kid. Dadâs in Washington now, and Emily and Iâwell, we bounced around for a while.â
âThat sounds exciting!â Mina said with wide eyes, like Iâd been living some kind of glamorous life. âYou mustâve traveled to so many cool places with skating.â
âSort of,â I said, smiling a little. âIâve traveled a lot, but mostly itâs arenas and hotel rooms. They all kind of blend together after a while.â
âReally? You donât get to sightsee?â Lucy asked, surprised.
I shook my head, feeling a little embarrassed. âNot really.â
âThat kinda sucks,â Lucy said bluntly, and I couldnât help but laugh.
âYeah, a little. I mean, Iâm lucky to have had the opportunities, but itâs not all glitter and lights. Mostly itâs just ice rinks and gym time.â
âNot much of a social scene, huh?â Mina asked, clearly intrigued now.
âNope,â I said, rolling my eyes. âJust a lot of catty, ultra-competitive girls and their stage moms.â
âEver seen anyone pull a Tanya?â Lucy asked, her voice suddenly teasing, the mischievous glint in her eyes impossible to miss.
âHarding? Nah, usually the sabotage is a little more subtle than a baton to the knee.â I giggled, feeling a little lighter. The past few months had been so heavy, and for a second, it felt like the weight was finally lifting.
âThatâs not how you got hurt, is it?â Minaâs voice softened, the concern slipping into her tone as her eyes searched mine.
âNo,â I said, shaking my head. âI just... fell during practice. Stupid. My skate caught on a rough patch of ice, and down I went. Concussion and a torn ACL.â
âOuch,â Lucy winced, looking at me like Iâd just told her about some medieval torture device.
âYeah, it wasnât great,â I said, feeling the sting of it even now, even though it was months ago.
âThere wasnât much news about it, though,â Lucy added, brow furrowing in thought. âI didnât even know you were off the ice.â
âOh, come on, Lucy!â Mina teased, rolling her eyes. âY/Nâs a big celeb. It was bound to be news eventually.â
âNo, itâs okay,â I reassured them, wanting to avoid feeling like I was in the spotlight. âMy momâs my manager, and she kept it quiet. She was hoping Iâd bounce back quickly and didnât want the press all over it. Iâm sure once I donât show up at Nationals, something will leak.â
âIs it weird?â Lucy asked, her curiosity obvious. âHaving your mom as your manager?â
âI never really thought about it,â I said, shrugging. âItâs always been that way. When we moved away after the divorce, she was already handling all my schedules and practices. It just sort of... evolved from there.â
âDo you miss her?â Minaâs voice softened, no teasing, just a gentle curiosity.
I sighed, the question catching me off guard. âHonestly? Itâs been nice having some space. She couldnât stop talking about my knee, about how I needed to get back on the ice. Itâs like she doesnât know what to do with herself if Iâm not skating.â
âThat would get old fast,â Mina agreed with a sympathetic smile.
âYeah, it really did,â I said, appreciating the distance from it all. For the first time in a long while, I could breathe without worrying if I was letting someone down.
The conversation shifted after that, and soon we were all laughing again as Mina told us about her latest wedding-planning disasterâbecause, of course, thereâs always something.
Before I knew it, we were back at our building, heading up in the elevator.
âSo, itâs Monday night,â Lucy said, her grin widening like she was about to make a really good point. âNone of us have to work tomorrow, and the guys are busy. You know what that means?â
I shook my head, clueless, watching as she and Mina exchanged a look.
âGirlsâ night!â Mina squealed, her excitement practically vibrating in the air.
âGirlsâ night?â I echoed, frowning slightly, still trying to wrap my head around what that actually meant.
âOh, you have no idea what youâve been missing,â Lucy teased, flinging an arm around my shoulders like weâd been friends for years instead of days. âItâs sacred. We eat junk food, drink cocktails, and watch chick flicks until we pass out from a sugar coma.â
âAnd this is⊠fun?â I asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasnât sure if I was supposed to be intrigued or terrified.
âUh, yeah!â Lucy said, like Iâd just asked if the sky was blue.
âIâm not really much of a drinker,â I admitted, feeling a little awkward all of a sudden.
âLightweight or just donât like it?â Lucy asked, her curiosity sharpening like she was about to dissect me.
âNeither, really. I just⊠never really had the chance. Training and alcohol donât mix, and I was always in bed by nine.â I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, my embarrassment showing through the words.
Minaâs eyes went wide, like Iâd just confessed to living under a rock. âWait, youâve never had a drink?â
âNot really,â I mumbled, suddenly feeling like I didnât belong in this conversation at all.
âNo moral objections or anything?â Mina asked, her voice teasing but still full of genuine curiosity.
âNo, I just⊠never got around to it,â I said, trying to brush it off but already feeling the weight of my own weirdness.
Mina grinned, practically glowing with excitement. âWell, no bedtime tonight! You in?â
I hesitated. The idea of drinking for the first time made me nervous. But the way their enthusiasm was lighting up the roomâwell, it was kind of infectious. âYeah, okay,â I said, even though I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
âGreat! Weâll be right over with the provisions!â Mina practically dragged Lucy into their apartment, leaving their door wide open as they disappeared inside, their voices floating back out into the hallway.
"Mina, letâs get the movies! Whatâs the vibe?" Lucyâs voice called from inside, pulling me into their whirlwind without even asking.
I leaned against the doorframe, watching them with a grin. Lucy was already ransacking their kitchen, piling snacks and bottles into a laundry basket like she was gearing up for some epic battle. âWhat kind of movies do you like?â she asked, still rummaging around, not even looking up.
âIâm not picky,â I said, laughing at how absurdly fast she was moving.
âPerfect! Chick flicks it is!â she declared, holding up a bag of chips like sheâd just discovered treasure.
âWait, are we really watching all of those?â I asked as Mina emerged from the bedroom with a stack of DVDs taller than her head. It looked like enough to keep us glued to the screen for a week.
âNo, but itâs good to have options,â Mina said with a wink, tossing the cases into the basket like she had it all figured out.
âAlright, give us a sec to change into some sweats, and weâll be over,â Lucy said, already heading to her bedroom with her spoils.
âSweats, Mina?â I teased, raising an eyebrow. âDo you even own any?â
âItâs girlsâ night, Y/N. Concessions must be made,â she replied, pretending to be scandalized.
Back in my apartment, I changed into fleece pants and my old Team USA hoodie, pulling on a pair of fuzzy slipper socks. I wasnât sure if I was ready for whatever this was, but I was definitely curious. The second I stepped into the living room, I was hit with the full blast of their âparty zoneâ transformation. Mina was fiddling with the DVD player, while Lucy was already setting up the counter with snacks and drinks, making a delightful symphony of chaos in the kitchen.
A wicked grin spread across my face. Emily would flip if she saw this junk food carnival. Tonight was about firstsâfirst girlsâ night, first chick flick binge, first cocktail, first indulgence in all the things Iâd never let myself have. I was ready to enjoy it all.
âSo, whatâd you start us off with?â I asked, as Lucy tossed a bag of Doritos to Mina, who caught it in mid-air with a triumphant grin.
âWell, weâve got to save our tearjerkers for later,â Mina said with a mischievous smile. âI thought weâd kick things off with How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Gotta get the laughs and the man candy going early, you know?â
âMmm⊠McConaugheyâŠâ Lucy sighed dreamily, stretching out like a cat. âThat man makes me miss Southern boys.â
âHey, you couldâve snagged yourself a Texan. You and Jimin both went to Texas Tech,â Mina giggled, throwing a pillow at Lucy.
âTaehyung more than makes up for the lack of an accent,â Lucy shot back with a smirk.
âUh, speaking of accentsâŠâ I chimed in, still trying to shake the sound of Dr. Jeonâs voice from earlier.
âOh my God, Y/N!â Mina burst out laughing, catching on immediately. âI shouldâve warned you about my dad. Isnât his accent hilarious? Iâm used to it, but even now, sometimes it catches me off guard.â
âThat man is like sex on a stick at the State Fair,â Lucy added, already heading back to the kitchen for more drinks.
âLucy!â I exclaimed, feeling my face heat up like a furnace.
âJust admit it, Y/NâDr. Jeon is drool-worthy,â Lucy teased, her grin so mischievous it was practically glowing.
âYeah, heâs good-looking,â I stammered, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. âBut isnât he, like, practically your future father-in-law?â
âExactly,â Lucy said, holding up her drink like sheâd just won a gold medal. âGives me a glimpse into my future, and itâs looking damn good twenty-five years down the road.â
I blinked, trying to process the absurdity of the conversation. âIâm sure Mina doesnât appreciate you associating her father with⊠well, that.â
âStop being such a nun, Y/N. I know my dadâs a DILF,â Mina said, so casually I almost choked.
âA what?â I asked, horrified but somehow intrigued.
Mina and Lucy exchanged a knowing glance. âOh, sweet summer child,â Lucy sighed dramatically. âDILF stands for âDad Iâd like toâââ
I choked on my chip before she could finish, coughing like Iâd just swallowed a firecracker. My face was even hotter now.
âDidnât need that visual, thanks,â I muttered, half-laughing, half-wincing.
Mina patted me on the back, giggling like she couldnât contain herself. âOh, Y/N, youâre just too much fun to corrupt.â
âYou underestimate the power of the Dark Side,â Lucy added, her voice dropping into a low, Darth Vader impression, complete with heavy breathing.
âMina, there is no place for Star Wars geekery at Girlsâ Night,â Mina interjected with a mock-serious tone, like she was the gatekeeper of some sacred tradition.
âMina, thereâs always a place for Star Wars geekery,â Lucy shot back, turning to me for backup, her eyes wide with earnestness. âRight, Y/N?â
âUh, sure?â I replied, suddenly feeling very much like I was in a conversation I hadnât quite signed up for.
âYouâve seen it, right? Star Wars?â Lucy asked, her disbelief written all over her face.
âActually⊠no,â I winced, bracing for the fallout.
Lucy gasped like Iâd just told her Iâd never seen the sun rise. âOH. MY. GOD!â she screamed, the force of her voice almost knocking me over. She dropped her drink onto the counter with a clang. âAre you kidding me? Mina, go get my special editions! We need to fix this now!â
âNo way!â Mina shot back, hands on her hips like some kind of movie-critic superhero. âGirlsâ Night equals chick flicks, not galactic battles.â
âHey, The Empire Strikes Back is very romantic,â Lucy protested, her voice full of conviction.
âYeah, until someone gets their hand sliced off with a lightsaber,â I countered, feeling a little bolder now.
âWhatever, you uncultured heathen,â Lucy rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up dramatically. âSoon, Y/N. Iâll fix this, I swear.â
Lucy handed each of us a glass as she emerged from the kitchen, and Mina reached for the remote. âWe ready?â Mina asked, settling in next to me, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
âYup, everythingâs prepped,â Lucy said, raising her glass like she was about to make a grand speech. âAlright, ladies, a toastâto the first of many Girlsâ Nights with our new BFF, Y/N.â
âAnd to getting Y/N tipsy enough to spill all her secrets,â Mina added, making me laugh mid-sip.
âCheers!â we clinked glasses, and I took a cautious sip of what I thought was water but tasted like pure fire. The burn hit me so fast, I practically choked.
âThatâs disgusting! How do you guys drink this stuff?â I gasped, pushing the glass away as my throat burned like it had just met lava.
âItâs an acquired taste,â Lucy said with a grin, clearly enjoying my suffering. âNext round, I promise something fruity.â
Mina snapped her fingers at Lucy. âMake the woman a Kami!â
âSo demanding,â Lucy sighed, but a few moments later, she handed me a frothy, pink drink. âTry this. Youâll like it.â
I took a cautious sip, surprised to find it actually tasted good. The burn was still there, but it was wrapped in this sweet, tangy burst of raspberry. I took another sip, feeling warmth spread through me like Iâd just been wrapped in a blanket of comfort.
âGood, right?â Lucy prompted, watching me carefully, her grin not quite hiding her excitement.
âReally good,â I nodded, a little more confidently this time, taking a bigger drink.
âJust pace yourself,â Mina warned, raising an eyebrow. âThereâs more alcohol in those than it tastes.â
Hours flew by in a blur of movies, laughter, and progressively more ridiculous makeovers. By the time we finished Clueless, I was sprawled across the couch, my head resting in Lucyâs lap with Mina snuggled up against my legs. The room felt warm and familiar, andâsurprisinglyâcomfortable. Like I belonged.
âThe nightâs still young! Whatâs next?â Lucy stretched, her voice muffled by the pillow she was hugging to her chest.
âLeo!â Mina shouted, her eyes practically sparkling. âThe night isnât over until weâve seen Leo!â
Lucy popped in Titanic and grabbed another drink from the kitchen, moving just a little slower now, like the alcohol was finally starting to catch up. âAnyone else?â
âI shouldnâtââ I started.
âNonsense!â Mina interrupted, poking me in the side with a wicked grin. âYouâre still way too coherent for a proper Girlsâ Night.â
Rolling my eyes, I accepted the glass she handed me. âFine. But if I pass out, Iâm blaming you.â
By the time Jack was sketching Rose, Iâd stopped keeping track of the drinks, and the night had dissolved into fits of laughter and way-too-drunk confessions. At one point, Lucy and Mina reenacted the âIâm flyingâ scene, nearly knocking over the wine bottle in the process.
But as the movie stretched into the early hours, I found myself comfortableâmaybe too comfortable, considering how much Iâd indulged. As the credits rolled, Mina turned to me, her eyes gleaming with mischief.
âOkay, real talk, Y/N. Never?â Lucy asked, her voice serious but with that mischievous gleam in her eyes that I knew meant she was circling back to the topic she was clearly obsessed with.
âNope,â I said, crossing my arms like some sort of rebellious fortress. I wasnât budging.
âThatâs just... so wrong,â Lucy groaned, her eyes practically rolling out of her head. âYour lady business must be staging a rebellion.â
âThere are plenty of people who make it to twenty-four without sex,â I said, rolling my eyes like I was offering them the most obvious truth in the universe.
âYeah, but youâre hot!â Mina chimed in, her hands waving around like she was making a dramatic point. âGuys should be lining up for you!â
âIâd jump you,â Mina added with a grin, her finger lazily plucking at the fuzz on my pants like it was the most normal thing in the world.
âThanks, Mina,â I laughed, genuinely amused. âThatâs true friendship right there.â
âYouâre welcome,â she replied, her expression pure contentment, like sheâd just solved world peace.
âI donât know what to tell you guys,â I admitted, my thoughts briefly flickering to Jungkook. âI just never really had the opportunity.â
âThereâs gotta be at least one hot male figure skater you couldâve, you know, jumped in the weight room,â Lucy teased, her tone teasing but somehow still playful.
âLucy, some people actually use the gym for exercise,â I shot back, feeling like I was dodging a slow-motion car crash.
âOh, believe me, Y/N, I use it for recreational purposes,â Lucy quipped, her grin devilish. âMy idea of ârecreationâ just doesnât match yours.â
âPerv,â I muttered, laughing, trying to shield myself from her shenanigans.
"Proud to be one!" Lucy declared, her laughter echoing through the room like a contagious wave.
âWe need to find you a guy,â Mina said suddenly, tapping her chin like she was a mastermind concocting a plan for world domination. âLucy, who do we know?â
âNo way!â I held up my hands defensively. âYou are not setting me up with anyone.â
âBut, Y/N!â Mina protested, as if this was a criminal injustice.
âI can find my own guy if I want to,â I insisted, my thoughts unwillingly drifting to Jungkook. I bit my lip, and it was like they could read me like a book.
âOh, look at that face!â Mina practically lunged at me. âYou met someone, didnât you?â
âNo!â I shot back a little too quickly, feeling the heat of embarrassment climb up my neck.
âYou canât fool us, honey,â Mina said, her voice full of mock disbelief. âThat face has âcrushâ written all over it!â She leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. âWhoâs the guy? Is he hot? Is he here? Did you kiss him? Why didnât you say something earlier?â Her questions were coming at me like a machine gun, and I was about to implode.
âThereâs nothing to tell!â I mumbled, sinking deeper into the couch, wishing I could just disappear.
âY/N!â Mina cried dramatically. âWeâve been with Chim and Tae for years! We need to live vicariously through your romantic escapades!â
âWhat romantic escapades?â I shot back, tryingâand failingâto sound cool and detached.
Lucy raised an eyebrow, her look knowing and challenging. âYouâre hiding something boy-related. Spill.â
âFine!â I groaned, throwing my hands up in defeat. âI met a guy at the airport. We talked for a few minutes while he helped me with my bags. Thatâs it. Can we move on now?â
âNo, we cannot move on!â Lucy said, her eyes practically popping out of her head. âWas he cute?â
âYeah, I guess,â I shrugged, trying to sound indifferent, but the truth was, I couldnât stop thinking about him.
âYou guess?â Mina echoed, her brow almost disappearing into her hairline.
âI wouldnât really call him âcute,ââ I muttered, my face burning as I tried to downplay it.
âWell, what would you call him then?â Minaâs eyes gleamed with excitement. âHot? Sexy? Drop-dead gorgeous? Fuckhawt?â
âUh⊠all of the above?â I finally admitted, which sent them into a squealing frenzy that couldâve shattered glass.
âDid you kiss him? Did you give him your number? When are you seeing him again?â they fired off at me, like they were in some kind of interrogation scene in a rom-com.
âNo, I didnât kiss him, and I didnât give him my number,â I confessed, biting my lip as I fought to suppress the butterflies. âBut, yeah, he suggested we meet up again. Thatâs all.â
Mina looked at me, her expression downright disappointed. âWhy didnât you give him your number?â
âI donât know, Mina!â I groaned, burying my face in my hands. âI have no clue what Iâm doing when it comes to guys. He didnât ask for my number, and I wasnât about to throw it at him if he was just being polite.â
âIâm sure he wasnât just being polite, Y/N,â Lucy said, her tone dripping with conviction, like she knew something I didnât.
âWhatever,â I sighed, trying to steer the ship away from that topic. âHe was gorgeous and sweet, and yes, he gave me butterflies, but Iâll probably never see him again, so can we please talk about something else?â
Mina leaned back with a dreamy sigh, her eyes practically glowing with unspoken wisdom. âDonât worry, Y/N. Your butterflies are still out there. You just have to catch them.â
© chimcess, 2025. Do not copy or repost without permission.
Taglist: @smartkookiee @knightofmidnight @mar-lo-pap @jjeonjjk7 @somewhatjungkook @lovingkoalaface @jimineepaboya @iswearimover5feetall @blissingtaehyung @futuristicenemychaos @kooloveys @jenniebyrubies @8thmuse @beattiestreet @tatzzz-25
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So, I had some chapters ready to recap but I decided to wait because the last bunch didn't get around as they normally do notes-wise and I thought maybe you guys needed a breather from these, I know there's more important things to engage your time with right now, so I thought I'd stop for a bit because maybe I was just posting them too frequently, BUT if I don't keep them up, I can't keep reading, so I'm gonna move on and let it land where it lands ÂŻ\_(ă)_/ÂŻ at this point, I have to go on even if I'm talking to the void. So, it is what it is.
previously, in nona del 9:
this happened
this is the general tag
CHAPTER 10 (shattered second house skull...yikes)
nona finally tells camilla about the surveillance situation at school
she wants to go back in the evening to help out sriracha girlie with it
camilla, because she's smart, cautious and all around perfect, tells her no
especially not after the whole shooting mess that happened that very afternoon
nona says she feels responsible for the kids and that perhaps the two other people she maybe is would also feel responsible for them
camilla says one definitely would, the other one maybe
I'm assuming the hard yes is gideon
last time gideon was sort of in charge of kids, things didn't go very well, though
rip the fourth
then they go eat and I don't quite get why nona is so picky with food
is it that the food is bad? or is her body rejecting it? or is she just a fussy child?
just putting this out there, if I ask things here, you don't need to tell me, I just ask to the void, it's fine
anyway, in comes pyrrha looking like crap but acting like it's all fine
she asks palmolive to help her get a permanent shave but palmolive says "I had the joy of working on a...body like yours, the once, and I don't want to repeat the process for anything smaller than a brain hemorrhage"
he was about to say 'lyctor', I imagine
not sure I know what this is referring to but please don't tell me
he asks pyrrha if it's "finally kicking off" and she says "not yet"
(wish this was just fiction and we weren't experiencing the imminent brewing of intense social and political tension every single day in so many places of the world)
nona goes to prepare a bath for her while palmolive and pyrrha fight about the people she saw being taken during the altercation she was caught in
she says she saw three adults taken in, no consensus on whether they were from the barracks or found in the wild
palmolive wants to go fuck shit up to save them but pyrrha says they (aka camilla) won't be able to fight against "two hundred motherfuckers with machine guns"
and points out that camolive aren't a lyctor
palmolive wants to upset pyrrha on account of her not wanting to do more to save people, especially since his house followed them there
and apparently camilla's older sister kiki was one of them
kiki is allegedly from the oversight body
which I have learned has nothing to do with the oversight of potentially having lost gideon's body
different oversight and different body
but pyrrha only cares about keeping all of them safe and can't be swayed into letting camolive fight
I get where pyrrha is coming from but, at the same time, I don't think it's realistic to believe she can do that
keep them safe, I mean
camolive are ready to spring into attack if someone looks at them wrong and nona is a child with a knife
but, in any case, you can't ask a lyctor for compassionate thought
not because they're lyctors but because some of them, including pyrrha, where there when this all started and were complicit in the fuckery
we'll go back to that in a bit
so, turns out nona can hear the blue light in the sky and she calls it "varun"
nona also tells camilla that she'd willingly go to the middle of the mess to help out the people they care about because she isn't afraid of dying
which smells like trouble to me, a kid with no self preservation
and camilla asks her why she isn't, to which nona responds that she likes the "letting go"
camilla responds that she doesn't let go, that is her thing
nona goes to have a bath before going to sleep and pyrrha has to remind her to stop flashing her boobs to the unsuspecting crowd
I have a parallel tally going on in my mind of who would be the most mortified about all this and harrow keeps winning every time
which would be extra funny if this is gideon's mind in harrow's body
JOHN 5:18 (ugh this guy again)
"For this reason they tried all the more to kill him; not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God."
when I named him doctor reverend instead of just doctor I didn't know how accurate that would be in the long run
dr reverend emperor john buttface says he doesn't like change
we kind of guessed that by the fact that he does inhumane things to extend his and other people's lives
he continues on his story of how he started necromancy by playing with two corpses he named ulysses and tatiana and how now he can make them do things with their whole bodies
none of this sounds great
gotta say, it's a good way of re-contextualizing the whole thing, though
because book 1 you are thrown right in the middle of the ninth and harrow is doing nasty stuff with bones and you have to just accept it and keep going
and then in canaan house other necros do other stuff that also seems wild but it's normalized, so you go on and you're like "ok, this is how things are here"
but seeing this at a time closer to us than to canaan house really brings it back to a "this is insane" territory
which I think is very effective narratively, especially to do it now
you're not here for literary criticism from me, though, so let's continue
he goes through who of his lyctors was religious to begin with, who took it as some sort of spiritual experience, and who didn't
mercygirl wasn't and was weirded out but moved on from it really fast
if you ask me, everyone moved on from it really fast, but I'm not a lyctor so I have no say in the matter
according to dr reverend emperor john assface, this was because they wanted to believe
because "everyone wants to believe that God's randomly made them on of the X-Men"
and, not to stop in a minuscule quote for too long and give more unsolicited literary analysis instead of memes but, this sentence shows a lot about this man
idk if this was picked specifically or if I'm reading too much into it BUT
out of every other superhero or superhero group or comic book character with powers he could have chosen, it's so interesting that he chose the x-men
because the x-men are notably different from many of them, especially from their time, because they were oppressed due to their powers
it wasn't just that their powers or their saving the world gig made things complicated for their lives, literally a big part of their narrative is that their powers make them a target of oppression to the point of persecution and violence
some of them famously don't want to have powers
and mutants who do have a good relationship with their powers rarely have a good relationship with society
but he overlooks that and only focuses on having superhuman abilities
and I think that says a lot about this man in just one nerdy sentence
because he's either a) overlooking the entire social context in which the x-men operated to only laser focus on their powers without caring about the rest
or b) he believes himself a victim and a target of society as a justification of being "chosen" to do what he did
since we're at it, because I think it fits the current book narrative and worldwide narrative
this is from 1993
ANYWAY
dr reverend emperor john says he knew, by this body moving thing he was doing now, that he could use this power "for good. Could be used to fix everything, used for you"
we still have this thing where he talks to harrow but as if harrow was around back then, so I think he's talking to ice cube barbie?? but I'm not yet sure what's happening
he also says the corpses were his batteries, which doesn't sound to me like doing good in general, just doing good for him, but anyway
they didn't want the people funding them (who had pulled the plug on them literally and metaphorically) to find out because they could be "used for evil"
so they decided to communicate with the people to spread the word themselves without anyone doing it for them
they decided to stream
cue to agustine and mercygirl as mods in the youtube chat prompting the command !sponsor to promote hello fresh ads while dr john shows the corpses
DAY THREE (CORONABEER MENTION)
CHAPTER 11 (fifth house skull, WE'LL TALK ABOUT THAT)
nona keeps talking about the pool situation, which she says is from her dreams
which doesn't line up with alleged harrow talking to dr reverend emperor john each time in between, but we'll continue
she says she's holding the "girl with the painted face" underwater and she is lying there but not drowning
but there are still hands around her, holding her
nona believes she must be mixing moments
I wonder if underwater girl with painted face allegedly harrow is where ice cube barbie used to be?
because a) it'd explain why she's not drowning but still underwater
and b) we ended up at the tomb last time in the end of harrow's book
and harrow went inside the empty tomb
WAIT A MINUTE
when harrow got into the tomb, it was empty
chains were broken and there was a sword and
fifth house erotica courtesy of gideon
IS THAT WHY THERE'S A FIFTH HOUSE SKULL IN HERE?
BECAUSE OF THE MAGAZINE?
pelase don't answer that, don't tell me anything at all, just let me fail
nona reproduces the way in which she's being held in the dream with camilla and says that in there it doesn't feel "sexy"
to which camilla asks wtf do you know about what sexy is
not in those exact words
apparently, she learned it from honesty
and says she thinks a painting of two flowers is sexy and asks camilla what she thinks is sexy
camilla says "eating breakfast"
camilla is sponsoring my apparel, this is the second ace tshirt with a quote from her I make from this book
nona tells her to ask palmolive what he thinks is sexy
my guess would be dying girls he never met personally
camilla says "strong work ethics and high test scores"
I'm getting a wardrobe out of this conversation
pyrrha is making breakfast and upon nona entering the room
or house section divided in a small space they call a room
she asks what they had been talking about because it "sounded fruity"
nona is onto pyrrha's bs though and can tell she hasn't slept, so pyrrha confesses that she went to the park
the park where she asked palmolive not to let camilla go
she says she didn't save anyone in a way that camolive would understand, so she doesn't want nona to tell them she went
nona isn't good with lies and I totally get that
pyrrha also tells nona to be careful about sriracha girlie because she was at the burn cages and keeping some sus company there
nona gets all mad about pyrrha saying that and calling her name "stupid"
I got mad at nona for getting mad in behalf of people she doesn't know anything about instead of trusting the advice of people she lives with
pyrrha doesn't insist much and nona says she isn't going to stop being friends with sriracha girlie because she has 0 self preservation and a death wish
as established in this same recap
pyrrha is then asked what she thinks is sexy and she pretty much describes commander wake
"love a redhead" she says
wonder if she knows what gideon looks like or if she's just still referencing commander wake
because she met her in harrow's body and I don't know if the oversight with gideon's body being misplaced happened after or before pyrrha saw her
DON'T TELL ME
nona says she doesn't think redheads are sexy, which palmolive thinks is important to note down
I also think it's important to note it down because it's more points for the "this is gideon" side of the scale
when asked what he thinks is sexy, palmolive gives the most boring answer yet
"those little outfits nurses wear"
does he have a thing for yami kawaii stuff? nurses outfits, sickly seventh girls? is this a thing for him?
or is this like the regular sexy nurse fantasy type stuff? the spirit halloween type stuff?
or is this silent hill nurse type stuff? the ones that can kill you?
I don't know, I'm gonna leave it at that, whatever works for you, my dude
we don't have time to ask palmolive specific on his fantasies, though
because the door opens suddenly and there's a GUN and a THREAT
love starting the morning with chill stuff
AND WE'RE DONE!! I'll see how I work through the chapters, they end up getting long if I wait too much but I don't want to oversaturate, which I was probably doing. Anyway, sending hugs and love your way â„
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The Exit Strategy â Part 4
Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, thereâs one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.
Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader
Warnings: 18+, language, fluff, some angst & feels, family secrets, spy stuff, a bit of spiciness
Word Count: 6.5k
A/N: Welcome back, friends! We're diving a bit into Shaw family secrets this week â fully Wayne's version, though. While I did read the books, there's no major spoilers**, so don't you worry. I just played with an idea here đ€ I also won't be fully diving into the Shaw family life, but some things are heavily hinted to be... fishy here đ Enjoy & let me know what you think! đ€
**There's a small part where Russell tells Colter about their parents. It's mentioned in the books that their mother was a psychiatrist. I took that and ran with it đ€·ââïž
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Part 4: This Is Not an Exit
âYouâve been walking down memory lane a lot tonight,â you teased with a nudge of his ribs, still tightly cuddled in his warm embrace in the freezing basement.
âHavenât you?â
âNo, I have,â you admitted with a melancholic sigh. âMaybe we should stop dwelling on the past so much. Think more about the futureâŠâ
Russell scoffed a small chuckle. âDory said something similar not that long ago. Actually the reason why I came here.â
âYeah?â
âYeah,â he sighed, his fingers absently drawing circles on your arm. âI think itâs time we retire, sweetheart. I mean, after everything weâve been through, I think we deserve to, right? You know, sometimes I wake up in the morning, and Iâm surprised weâre even still here, considering how many war zones weâve been in.â
âWell, you know what they say â beware the old soldier because heâs old for a reason,â you said with a smile.
âYeah, think I might be getting a little too oldâŠâ Russell chucked lightly, running a hand through his long hair. âSo? What dâyou think? One last hurrah, and then we hang this up? I was thinking maybe we could open up a brewery, you know? A family place. Bet the kids would love it.â
âSounds nice,â you said with a yearning smile. You wanted all of that and more. âIâd love to retire with you.â
âBut?â
You laughed slightly at his anticipating look. âBut I donât think you can yet.â
His eyebrows drew together till they met above the bridge of his freckled nose. âWhat dâyou mean? I just told you Iâm ready.â
âYou say you are, but you arenât,â you replied like the annoying Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. âHave you solved the murder yet?â
Russell licked his lips, which was his telltale sign that you caught him there. After all, you knew him better than anyone in this world â knowing when he needed to be pushed and shoved was part of it.
âNo, but I donât need to anymore. Look, the only reason I wanted to solve it was because I thought I had to prove my innocence to Colter. And well, turns out I didnât. He believed me anyways, soâŠâ
âThat wasnât the only reason,â you reminded him with a scrutinizing look.
âMaybe, but like I said â Dory thinks we should keep all this bullshit in the past, and after the last three years, Iâm starting to agree with her,â Russell said, dragging a hand over his face.
âLook, if thatâs what you wantââ
âItâs what I want,â he assured you and placed a hand on your thigh, gently squeezing it. âHaving my little brother and sister back is enough. I donât need more. Nothing good ever comes from being greedy.â
You nodded in understanding, clearing your throat. âStill, in the name of our deal to always be honest, I kinda have to confess something.â
Rising from your seat, you dusted off your awful, flowery skirt and wandered to the wall safe once more, retrieving a thick folder from it. You took your place next to Russell again, his questioning eyes meeting yours as you handed him your research.
âWhen you didnât come back after a year or so, I started looking into it as well. Might have done a full deep-dive,â you admitted with a bite of your lip.
Russell shot you a chiding look, shaking his head, but most of all, he was worried. âI told you to leave it alone. You donât know what sorta people weâre dealing with here, but we do know theyâre dangerous.â
âI know. I just wanted to help. Figured I could speed it along. I do have more access than you,â you countered softly. âIâm sorry, okay? But I was careful. I promise.â
âGood,â he said and looked at you, interlacing your fingers with his. ââCause the last thing I want is losing you over this bullshit, too.â
Nodding, you squeezed his hand in reassurance. âThereâs something you should know, though.â He raised his brow anew â youâd always been full of surprises. Life certainly had never been boring. âSomeone accessed the files after me.â
âWho?â
âI donât know. Definitely had a higher clearance than me, though,â you replied.
Russell threw his arms up, and you could see he was getting more upset again. âSee? This is what Iâm talking about! The whole point of us separating was to keep you and the kids away from it. Otherwise, we couldâve just stayed together, and I couldâve joined Horizon anyways.â
âI know that, too,â you said remorsefully. âBut donât worry. I wasnât followed, and no one ever came after me. I made sure of it. Itâs been two years now. They probably figured it was nothing after I didnât reach out to you straight away.â
âStill⊠I donât want you involved, alright?â
âWhat about Colter? Doesnât he want to know? He doesnât strike me as someone who just lets things go,â you noted observantly.
Russell clicked his tongue â a sign of defeat. âHe isnât, but heâs not gonna find anything either. I mean, the only reason I know is because you were so relentless and kept digging.â
âYou havenât told him what we found out?â
Russell licked his lips and admitted quietly, âNo. I donât think it does anyone any good to keep looking into this.â
Leaning forward and hugging your knees, your head bobbed pensively. âI thought you guys talked about what happened?â
âWe did. Kinda⊠Itâs complicated,â he stated, swallowing. âDory was easy, you know? I guess she never really believed it⊠But it took a while till Colter even picked up the phone, let alone answered a goddamn text message. Had to get a little annoying.â
You smirked. âWell, youâre good at that. Thatâs how you won me over.â
âBy being persistent?â
âExactly. Like a tardigrade.â You grinned. âI mean, you kind of are doing it now again, too.â
He chuckled quietly. âYeah, guess so.â
âIs that why you havenât told him about me and the kids? Because youâre not sure about him yet?â
âPartially, yeah,â he admitted. âI guess I wanted to protect you. And maybe myself a little, too⊠Not sure Iâm ready for those two worlds to meet yet, you know? I mean, you and the kids are the best things that ever happened to me, and when I look at Colter or Dory, Iâm sometimes reminded of the worst things in my life.â
âWhat about your mother?â
Russell let out an exhaustive sigh that was half amused. âGeez, you havenât changed a bit. You still ask the most uncomfortable questions possible.â
You laughed a little. âGathering intelligence in uncomfortable ways is kind of my job, Shaw.â
âYup, and no oneâs better at it than you, sweetheart,â Russell quipped.
âSo Iâm guessing itâs a no on Mommie Dearest?â
Russell licked his lips, shaking his head. âI donât wanna see her. Mostly because I donât even know what to fucking say anymore,â he said. âI donât want her to meet the kids either.â
âItâs okay,â you assured him and took his hand in yours. âItâs your choice, Russ. We go at your pace, alright?â
âThank you.â Russell brought your intertwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of your hand before he looked at you deeply, a smile dancing across his plump lips. âI love you.â
You mirrored his smile, your heart fluttering like a wild butterfly in your chest. âI love you, too.â
âIâll tell them â Dory and Colter. I want this to work,â he promised. âJust⊠after we finish this. I want him to have a clear head. I prefer not to get him killed, you know?â
âI get it. I thought the same thing when I first met you, too,â you joked, patting his chest. âBut you brought him into this. Itâs kinda on you.â
Russell scratched his bearded chin. âYeah, but I didnât exactly know what Iâd bring him into.â
âDidnât you, though?â
Amused, Russell bobbed his head. âYeah, maybe I did,â he acknowledged. âYou know, when Manny called meââ
Your eyes widened. âManny called you?â
Russell blinked at you, brow creased in confusion. âYeah, why?â
âThat motherfuckerâŠâ
Furiously, you stomped to the desk and grabbed the radio. âDrone-5. This is Queen Bee-1. Report to Hive.â
The static of the radio cracked almost instantly, as if the idiot had been waiting all night for this call. âYo, Queen Bee-1. Howâs my boy?â Mannyâs laugh echoed through the basement.
Russellâs glowing cheeks reached his eyes when he heard his friendâs voice. Heâd known the guy almost as long as Doug.
âYouâre the one who fucking told him?!â you yelled into the radio, almost crushing the device in your hand.
âTo be fair, I told him not to engage with tango,â Manny sheepishly replied.
âHa-ha, funny. Fuck you,â you huffed and tossed Russ the walkie-talkie. He caught it with one hand.
His boyish grin widened as he pushed the button. âYou know, Drone-5, you couldâve told me you were actually working this thing.â
âAw, you know I canât do that. But I guess congrats on crashing another operation. Youâre Worker Bee-3 now. Old habits die hard, huh?â Manny chuckled.
âYeah, I guessâŠâ Russell replied with a lighthearted chuckle, but his teeth tugged pensively at his lips.
âGreat to have you back, brother. Hope this works out for you. See you on the other side, man. Oh, and could you move like three feet to the left and turn the washer off? We can barely hear and see you guys, and Drone-2 just ran out to grab popcoââ
âNo, absolutely not. Out,â you snapped as you grabbed the radio from Russ. He laughed as you put it furiously back on the desk. You knew what you had signed up for, but you still deserved some privacy. Annoyed, you took off your cross necklace â another bug â and settled down beside him again.
âWhat did he say when he called you?â
âNothing much, really. Just told me your coordinates and that you like to pick up your mail at three oâclock at the local post office,â Russell replied.
You shook your head, smiling. âWell, he always loved you, soâŠâ You started to chew on your lower lip, the anxiety in your belly returning. For the sake of your mind and heart, you had to make sure Russell was fully back, and this wasnât just a fluke. âYou know, I worry sometimes that if you donât face this thing with your family, youâll always feel this way. I mean, after Lewis was bornââ
âI know.â Russell nodded, swallowing thickly. He saw the worry shimmering in your eyes, and it cracked his heart a little. âI know I kinda lost it there. Took me by surprise, too. Trust me. Figured I had dealt with all that shit already, you know? But I guess seeing you with him and feeling all that love myself, I just-⊠I donât know. I donât know how she could do it⊠Ashton was one thing, but she just stood by. And I donât even know what the hell she was up to while he took us out into those woodsâŠâ He shook his head as if to rattle the answer out of his brain. âAnd then when we found out you were pregnant again⊠I mean, Iâd barely held it together with Lewis. Everything just became a blur. I couldnât think straight anymore, and I worried all the time Iâd be like themâŠâ
âI tried to help,â you said softly.
âI know you did. Guess this was just something I had to figure out on my own,â he replied with a beat shrug.
âHowâs your vision now? Still blurry?â
âClearer than ever.â A smile flickered alive on his lips, green eyes boring into yours as he leaned in and kissed you slowly like he meant every word. Blowing a raspberry, he then turned his attention to the file in his lap. âSo, what am I gonna find in there?â
âHonestly, nothing we havenât already puzzled together,â you replied, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. âBut I found a couple of names associated with your parents. Thought maybe you could look at them and see if you recognize the person you saw in the woods.â
âI already know where this is goingâŠâ
âRuss, please, justââ
Russell interrupted you, placing a soothing palm on your thigh that curbed your enthusiasm. âIâll think about it, alright?â
Satisfied, you raised two placating hands. âAll I was askingâŠâ
âHow was the lasagna?â
After four hours in the basement, you and Russell quietly treaded up the stairs a few minutes after midnight, finding Colter in the kitchen, eating leftovers out of the ceramic form in the warm glow of the stove light. Tom, on the other hand, had passed out on the couch, only the blue flickers of the TV and the soft noises of a peaceful nature documentary filling the silence of the dark living room.
âExcellent,â Colter stated, swallowing down a mouthful of lasagna before speaking. âI told Tom he should be a chef in a restaurant or something.â
Russellâs brow knitted in doubt. âReally? Lemme try.â
âYou just ate two entire bags of junk. You canât still be hungry,â you argued with a giggle, shaking your head.
âItâs lasagna,â Russell said simply, grabbed a fork from the drawer, and dove right in.
That man would eat anything. Youâd seen him do it, too. He didnât even go hungry when he was lost in a desert.
âWow, that is good,â Russell announced his judgement with a full mouth. âMaybe we should hire Tom for the brewery, huh?â
âIâm guessing this means you two talked?â Colter asked with a carefully arched brow.
âHmm. I donât know,â Russell mused in jest. âWhat dâyou say, sweetheart? You taking me back?â
You rolled your eyes at his antics. âGuess I have to. God knows returning you is impossible.â
Russell laughed and slung an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed your temple.
But then you noticed Colterâs smile falter, his brows creasing in question. âIs your hair different?â
âShit!â
Wide-eyed, you bolted back down the creaking stairs to the basement, hearing Russellâs laughter fill the kitchen.
âWas she wearing a wig? And her eyes too, right?â Puzzled, Colter tried to piece it all together. He had already figured by your extensive vocabulary of swear words that you might be a better match for his older brother than he had initially surmised.
âYup, all fake, man,â Russell confirmed and smirked. âStill think sheâs not my type yet?â
âNo, I can see it now,â Colter admitted, chuckling. âSo, you guys are good?â
âYeah, I think so.â Russell nodded and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, swallowing.
Colterâs smile widened, filling the older Shawâs stomach with more guilt. âThatâs great. Happy for you, man. Guess that means youâre retiring now, huh?â
Russell scratched the back of his neck. âUh, weâll see. Always depends on what the wife decides, you know?â
Yup, he sprinkled that important bit of information into a joke. Then, he watched his little brother take a stumped step back, brow furrowing and unfurrowing and then furrowing again.
âWha-, wife?â
Russell produced a popping sound with his lips like the noise of a bottle when the cork was pulled. Welp, this bottle was surely open now.
âYup, got married in Thailand in 2011,â he added another helpful tidbit of information, but Colterâs jaw dislodged all the same.
âAlright, got this all figured out,â you said, sauntering back into the kitchen with a pastel pink towel wrapped around your head and a matching bathrobe. Youâd just grabbed them from the dryer, the fluffy material still cozily warm. It was the best option, considering you didnât want to mess around with your wig as well after popping the lenses back in had already cost you most of your patience. In your little bubble of bliss, you hadnât instantly noticed the brothers staring at you. But once you did, your brows morphed into a frown. âWhatâs going on?â
âYou two are married?â Colter asked, a pointed finger flicking from Russell to you.
You threw your arms up, looking at your husband. âI was gone for five minutes! What happened to telling him after the operation?â
Russell offered you a sheepish shrug. âWell, this old soldierâs getting weak too, apparently.â
âHe said it like a jokeâŠâ Colter mumbled, still in the middle of processing this new revelation. His older, estranged-but-now-less-strange brother had a wife. A family. Friends. And he knew none of it. What else was there? Kids?
âYeah, he does that...â You shot your husband a scolding sideways look. âShould I leave you two alone for this?â you then offered, hoping the answer was a goddamn yes.
âWhy would you? Youâre family, right?â Colter retorted with a dry smile and a sharp look.
You pursed your lips. While you could see some similarities between the brothers, you took note of one big difference: Russell wasnât as sarcastic and sharp-tongued. Probably because Russell had always been more concerned with what he should, would, or could share with people in an overthinking loop, while his younger brother seemed obviously free of that burden.
âDonât take it out on her,â Russell stepped in gently, which really was a warning. âShe didnât know about any of this. Kinda pushed her into it.â
âSeems to be your style,â Colter scoffed.
âCanât work for the CIA without going through a baptism of fire, little brother,â Russell said simply, giving an unapologetic shrug of his shoulders.
âWhy would you not tell me?â Colter stared at him, his look a mix of reproach and agitation.
âLook, you werenât exactly welcoming during our first meeting,â Russell argued with a bit of bark in his deep voice, although confrontation was probably not the best approach. But why should he always have to take the blame for everything? Heâd already done that for more than two decades.
âThat was months ago,â Colter countered, scowling. âIâd like to think Iâve come around since then⊠Coulda told me after we saved Doug.â
Russell let out a small sigh of defeat, rolling his eyes back slightly. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. âNo, yeah, youâre right. Iâm sorry, man, alright?â he apologized earnestly.
With a questioning brow, you carefully nudged your husbandâs arm. âWhat happened to Doug? Is he alright?â
âYeah, uh, he went to work for Horizon with me. Iâll tell you later, okay?â Russell replied, his voice a lot quieter as if sharing a secret, and if Horizon was involved he probably was.
âIs Tracy okay?â
âSheâs fine. Little shook up. You should probably give her a call. Smooth things out,â Russell told you.
Tracy thought you worked in marketing at some company for the government. Whenever you, Russell, and Doug were stuck on a mission, the boys made you call her to âsmooth things outâ â aka reassuring her everything was certainly fine with her husband and he wasn't in any danger at all. Theyâd once made you call her from a Black Hawk. The noise had been fun to explain away â youâd told her you were picking up a client from a helicopter pad.
Colter chewed on the insides of his cheeks. âSo she knows Doug, too?â
Russell nodded. âYeah, me and Doug were mostly Delta, but SAD liked to borrow us from time to time. We ran in her team for quite a while. She was actually the one who recruited me.â
At his little wink your way, you smiled. Heâd come along way from the sweet boy you had once teased like a special-forces-trained kindergartner.
âListen, things were obviously a little complicated between me and her the last few years,â Russell (under)stated. âBut Iâve brought you here for a reason, okay? Figured itâs time you meet your sister-in-law.â
Eyes drifting from you to Russell, Colter pursed his lips â a tell he shared with his brother.
âAre you mad? I canât tell.â Frowning, Russell tilted his head.
âNo,â you absentmindedly replied for Colter, who gave you a curious look but steered his attention back to Russell.
âNo,â the younger Shaw repeated your assumption. âI mean, not more than I was before, you know?â
Russellâs creases only deepened. âNo, I donât know.â
âHe means heâs indifferent about knowing or not knowing weâre married because heâs already pissed about not knowing about my existence in general,â you explained.
âAh. Your nerd is showing, sweetheart,â Russell teased you with a smile that made your heart melt.
âDory would like her,â Colter commented like the thought had just popped into his head â something else he didnât share with his brother.
Youâd always wondered about the youngest Shaw of the three. Russell could never tell you much about Dory. His memory had been one of a smart and feisty nine-year-old, not a young woman and physics professor.
Thumbing at you, Russell cocked a brow at his brother. âIs she right, though?â
âSpot on, actually.â Colterâs tongue poked his cheek, his gaze flickering with a hint of astonishment and new-found respect for you. âAnd I guess Iâm not really mad either way. Just⊠surprising, you know? I shouldâve asked. Thatâs on me.â
Russell seemed more than a little baffled to hear this, considering he had to pause to find an appropriate response. âNo, uh, weâre good. I couldâve just told you, anyways.â
âYeah, no, thatâs alright.â Colter swallowed, sending his older brother a smile of forgiveness. âHonestly, I was glad to hear you werenât alone all this time, soâŠâ
Russellâs Adamâs apple bobbed as he pushed down the lump in his throat. With a nod, he averted his green eyes to the kitchen floor. âThanks, man. Appreciate it.â
âAw, arenât you guys adorable,â you teased.
Colter wanted to retort something dry-witted, but Russell held up a warning finger. âAh â wait for it⊠Trust me. Sheâs not done.â
âYou girls need tissues or a tampon, maybe?â
âOh, Dory would definitely like her,â Colter repeated his earlier statement with an amused grin.
Russell, on the other hand, shot you a pointed look, but that had barely ever stopped you before. âOkay, you can lay down. You donât have to give him the initiation. No hazing my little brother,â he ordered you sternly, and you stifled a snort. âAnd no one better kidnaps him tonight and puts a bag over his head, alright? I donât wanna pick him up beaten and bloody from some warehouse tomorrow morning.â
âHm, what?â Colterâs brow furrowed. For the first time, you could see slight panic spread in his pupils.
Who was hazing who now?
You rolled your eyes in feigned annoyance. âFine, weâll leave him alone,â you acted your capitulation.
The younger Shaw blinked at you. âThank you?â
âShould we at least tell him about the other thing while weâre at it?â you asked Russell with a suggestive look.
Thoughtfully, he paused for a beat, then clicked his tongue. âNo, I got it from here. Itâs getting late. Weâve been here long enough,â he decided. âThis is less becoming a friendly âwelcome-to -the-neighborhoodâ dinner and more starting to look like an orgy to the neighbors. Especially since youâve put on the robe.â
âIt just came from the dryer. Look, itâs so soft and warm,â you argued, pouting, your palms caressing the fluffy material on your arms.
âUh-huh.â
The little bob of his Adamâs apple made you grin slyly. The way his jaw ticked and his pupils widened with a primal hunger, you could tell he wanted to tear that robe right off of you. The thought caused a shudder to run down your spine.
âWhat, uh, other thing do you have to tell me?â Colter asked and smiled expectantly, tapping his fingers on the the counter.
Russell, however, grabbed his arm and dragged his curious little brother toward the exit. âIâll tell you in the car,â he said and thumbed to the front door behind his shoulder. âWait outside. Gimme five minutes, alright?â
Wordlessly, Colter nodded without argument, gave you a quick goodbye-wave of his hand, and strolled leisurely back to his car as if he knew exactly what his older brother intended to do.
As expected, Russell impatiently conquered your lips, roughly pressing you against the foyerâs wall, your arms draping around his neck.
âWhatâs the bedroom situation in this place?â he asked between kisses.
âFirst floor, west side, third window from the right. Iâll leave it unlatched,â you replied, smiling against his lips. âTomâs always sleeping on the couch. Part of our cover is going to marriage counseling with Pastor Jeff, which happens to work out great for us.â
You exhaled a shuddered breath when one of his hands wandered past the robe and splayed warm against your ribcage, just underneath your breast. His thumb fought an itch to get closer.
âWouldnât do that, baby,â you murmured into his ear with an amused smirk. âThat bonerâs not gonna go away in five minutes.â
âMmm, I know,â he groaned and dropped his head between your boobs, lips pressing a chaste kiss to your collarbone. If he continued on with this, your arousal would surely streak down your bare thighs soon. Luckily, he had mercy on the both of you. âIâll talk to him and then come back, okay?â
You nodded with a smile. He kissed your lips, then your forehead, and then disappeared through the door with the same cometary velocity he had entered your vision.
And all you could do was hope youâd see him one more time in your life.
âSo?â
4.3 seconds after Colter killed the engine of his pickup in a spot a block away to the west side of your house â as per Russellâs very specific instruction â he stared scrutinizingly at his older brother.
Impatience was also a family trait â one even their father had despised.
âLook, uhm, thereâs no easy way to break the newsâŠâ
âIs this about you having two kids?â
When Russellâs eyes met Colterâs, he didnât recognize any anger, hurt or resentment in them â just pure slyness. At least that was good news. His little brother was just going to be annoying about this whole thing.
âYeah, remember those five minutes you left me alone in the car? I called Bobby. Had him check some things out for me. Wasnât easy to find. Iâll give you thatâŠâ
As expected, Colter was going to be a smartass about it. He figured it out on his own. He won the game.
âHmm.â Russell pursed his lips, nodding. âYou do know the CIA is on your guyâs ass now, right? Shouldnât have done it in their perimeter, man. Mannyâs probably all over this by nowâŠâ
Then his brow knit as if the thought of his old friend had provoked an idea, his head tilting with narrowed eyes at the air vents on the dashboard. How long had that car been parked outside and out of sight again?
Like a game of Operation, Russell then used thumb and pointer finger as his tweezers to retrieve a tiny bug â the spy kind.
âGotcha,â Russell muttered, smirking. He then held the bug close to the speakers of the radio before turning up the volume to its highest setting â only for a second. He switched the radio off, rolled down the window, and threw the unwanted listening device onto the pavement. âThat should teach âem a lessonâŠâ
Colter cocked an incredulous brow at his brother. âThey bugged my car?â
âOh, trust me, they bug anything they can get their greedy little hands on,â Russell retorted. âWould probably check for a tracker underneath, too.â
âGreat, thanks,â Colter huffed wryly.
âHey, you wanted in. Thatâs what they do,â Russell reminded him, shrugging, but there was a smile of amusement on his lips.
Colter only bobbed his head. âSo, you and her? You guys are good now? Just like that? Seemed⊠easy. SortaâŠâ
Russell chuckled lightly, brushing a hand through his beard. He knew his relationship with you was unconventional, but it had always worked for you and him.
âMe and Y/N have a deal, you know? Itâs not all black and white. I mean, we became aware a long time ago that the two of us operate in a lot of gray zones. But, uh, we always know we can rely on each other, you know? Doesnât matter if weâve been separated by time or space,â Russell explained to the best of his abilities.
âSo what happened?â Colter prompted with the same amount of confusion. âWhy did you guys split up? I saw on the birth certificate your daughter was only two years old. I mean, did you-⊠did you even know?â
Russell inhaled deeply, nodding. âI knew she was pregnant. When she told me back then, I-âŠâ He paused, licking his lips. It wasnât something he had ever talked about with anyone before â not even you. âWell, shortly after that, I had a breakdown and I-⊠I almost hurt her.â He choked on the words, fighting the sting in his eyes.
Heâd tried so hard to forget, wasnât even sure he had ever really apologized for it to you because he so badly didnât want it to exist that heâd tried to wish it out of literal existence, and hence, never really blamed you for leaving like you did. He understood. In fact, he had even wished youâd leave. He had convinced himself youâd be better off without him â something he still believed to be true â but he also knew he wasnât better off without you.
Heâd been lost and alone. And maybe, he was being selfish by crashing back into your life now. Or Doryâs. And Colterâs.
âI mean, nothing ever really bad happened. Itâs just-⊠That night I came scarily close,â Russell confessed, swallowing thickly. He still hated himself for that night and everything that followed. âItâs like a switch flipped, you know? I couldnât do anything against it⊠And Lewis saw parts of it, and I was already impatient with him and short with her the weeks before, so I just left that night and disappeared for two months. Volunteered for some mission. Figured it was best for everybody.â
Itâs better off if he never comes backâŠ
Russell licked his chapped lips. The next part was the hardest.
âWhen I got back, she told me she got a job offer in another country, and that she would be taking it and taking Lewis with her. She wanted me to use the time to⊠I donât know⊠solve this, I guess.â He let out a humorless scoff at the painful memory.
Russell hadnât seen it at first, maybe because he hadnât wanted to, his anger and pain blurring the truth. After his son had been born, Russell knew you could see him struggling, so you started digging deeper into his family and what really happened. And when youâd found something â Horizon â youâd told him you could infiltrate. Naturally, Russell had passed a hard no â it had been a five-hour long fight, but he'd emerged victoriously by the end. So, youâd told him he should do it, but he didnât want to leave you, and he didnât want to endanger and jeopardize his family.
Heâd told he was fine, but he wasnât. It kept gnawing on him â and gnawing and gnawing and gnawing⊠till you eventually pulled the plug and ended his suffering.
âI was exhausted, so I told her weâd talk about it in the morning. When I woke up, they were gone. Didnât even notice sheâd already packed.â
Colter was silent for a beat. âWas it PTSD or something?â
âOr somethinâ,â replied Russell.
âBut youâre good now?â Colter checked with a warily raised brow.
âGuess soâŠâ
Truthfully, Russell didnât know if he was or wasnât. Heâd tried hard to figure out what it was exactly that had set him off that night and fix it, but he didnât know if that feeling would ever disappear for good. He just knew he had never felt that way again since then. But could he guarantee it would never come back?
He didnât know.
âLook, all I know is, seeing you and Dory again helped, soâŠâ Russell twitched his shoulders and sighed. He didnât know what else to say, how to explain it better, but Colter seemed to understand anyway, reading between the lines.
Russell worried heâd be like their father.
âI think I get it.â The younger Shaw nodded and licked his lips. âYou know, youâre not crazy like Dad was, Russ. I mean, donât get me wrong, youâre crazy in your own way, but I wouldnât worry about the other stuff.â
âWell, thanks,â Russell said, not convinced but appreciative of the vote of confidence. âMakes at least one of usâŠâ
âI-, uh, I noticed their names,â Colter then said and clarified, âLewis and Amelia. Like explorers. Like us.â
âAh.â Russell smacked his lips and brushed it off, âWasnât really my idea. I told Y/N that story once. Guess she took a liking to it..â
âAre you, you know, gonna tell Mom?â
Russell was almost surprised by the question. The brothers had barely talked about their mother since theyâd reconnected. Considering Colter had never brought her up again after their first meeting, Russell figured there was a reason for that â and he thought he probably knew the reason, too.
Russell scoffed a chuckle and looked at his little brother with an almost incredulous look. âI think you can guess the answer to that one,â he replied and figured it said enough. âDid you tell her I came back?â
Colter pursed his lips, and Russell took it as a sign of admission. So his mother knew. GreatâŠ
âSorta,â Colter admitted hesitantly.
âWhat dâshe say?â Russell almost smiled out of amusement. He already knew the answer, but his brother still seemed reluctant. âCâmon, you can tell me. Iâm not gonna be butthurt after twenty yearsâŠâ
âShe told me to ignore you,â Colter finally confessed, but the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. They had ever since his mother said them, but even more so now that he knew his brother â and parts of the truth.
âHmm,â Russell hummed with tight lips and ground his jaw.
Granted, the confession stung more than Russell would ever be willing to admit. The tiny, naive part inside of him had constructed a hopeless fantasy of his mother having a sudden change of heart over the last two decades and happily welcoming her firstborn back. Apparently, not a thing had changed, though, and he cursed himself for feeling disheartened.
âBut I actually havenât talked to her in a while now,â Colter added with a small shrug, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
âHuh, really?â
âYeah, uh, and when I did, I didnât exactly tell her I didnât take her advice, you know? SoâŠâ
âWhy not?â Russellâs brow furrowed a little more as he analyzed each word, simultaneously realizing why he had been so reluctant to share his life with Colter before â his subconscious had been afraid his alienated little brother would report back to the mothership.
Colterâs lips pursed. âBecause I disagree.â
âAh.â
Colter chewed on his lower lip. âLook, I know you and Dory wanna keep all of this in the past and play family â and trust me, I want that too,â he assured, but his heart was beating fast in his chest. âBut I need to know, man. I need to know why she lied about this for twenty years and, you know, did all of this,â he insisted, and yet, Russell could tell he wasnât done. He might have broken the dam. âShe did it to you. I mean, arenât you mad?â
âOf course Iâm mad,â the older Shaw admitted, but there was no fire behind his words.
âThen why are you so calm?â
Amused, Russell chuckled, shrugging. âProbably âcause Iâve been dealing with this a lot longer than you, little brother.â
âSo, what are we gonna do now?â
âWe ainât gonna do anything,â Russell clarified, his voice stern. Heâd die to protect his family, you and the kids, and do anything in his power to keep you out of it, but Colter was a grown-up â a free agent. If he didnât want to listen, Russell couldnât force him. âLook, you wanna find out, you go find out. And if you do find something and need help, you call. But I canât be involved in this,â he explained, his firm expression morphing into something more vulnerable and sincere. âAnd frankly, I donât care that much. You, me, Dory, Y/N, the kids â thatâs all that matters, trust me. Youâre not gonna feel better or more⊠whole after finding those answers.â
âHow do you know? Do you know what really happened?â Colter instantly asked, and Russell knew in that moment, itâd be hopeless. His brother wouldnât stop till he found it â forever restless.
âNo, I told you. I donât,â Russell repeated, and while he didnât know everything, he omitted that he knew something.
âWhat about Y/N?â
Russell froze at the bare mention of your name, his protective instincts kicking in. âLeave her out of this,â he all but snarled.
But Colter didnât think about stopping. âDid you ever ask her? I mean, sheâs CIA. She could probably find out something, right?â
âYeah, I asked her once, alright? Was a long time ago,â Russell admitted, sighing. The intended lie would stick better if there was some truth to it â you had taught him that.
âCâmon, Russ⊠And?â Colter impatiently threw his arms up, brow raising higher and higher as he waited for an answer.
âShe never found anything,â Russell said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
This time, it wasnât just an omission. It was a blatant lie.
âI think whatever Dad was involved in â or both of âem â was just some activist shit. I donât think the government cares.â Lie. âWe both know he had a mental thing. Paranoid, probably schizophrenic⊠I mean, Mom used to pump him full of meds sometimes when he got too out of hand.â Truth. He then stole a glance at his little brother and saw the confusion shimmering on his face. Russell scoffed. âYou didnât know that, did you?â
Quietly, Colter shook his head.
âWell, you were a kid,â Russell said and hoped it would curb the blow slightly, although he knew better than that. âHe always took something as far back as I can remember. She used to prepare his pills every evening after you and Dory went to bed. But when we moved to the cabin, he started refusing to take them. Said they made him ânot clear-headed enough.â Kinda ironic,â he shared and snorted. âWhen it got too bad, though, sheâd still crush âem into his food.â
Colter took everything in with a nod but didnât say anything more.
âYou good over there?â Russell checked after a full minute had passed.
âYeah,â Colter said and even tried to form a reassuring smile before the attempt failed. Instead, he swallowed. âJust a lot, you know? I didnât know. I mean, I had some idea, but not-⊠not that.â
âYeah, I figured,â Russell said, his voice almost a whisper in the silence of the night. âLike I said, you were a kidâŠâ
When Russell finally left the car to sneak back to you, his shoulders felt a little lighter and his heart a little calmer. He might just float through that unlatched window tonight.
The bad news was, though, he might not be able to retire just yet.
Part 5: This Is a Start â FEBRUARY 7
Honestly, I should've called this chapter "Heart-to-Heart Part II" đ I'll see you for the finale next week, but as you know, it's not the end for them â only just the beginning đ
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#the exit strategy#russell shaw#russell shaw x reader#russell shaw x you#russell shaw x female reader#russell shaw x fem!reader#russell shaw fanfiction#russell shaw fic#russell shaw imagine#colter shaw#tracker#tracker cbs#jensen ackles#justin hartley#jensen ackles fanfiction
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HI HI HIIII! I absolutely loved your SDV Sam Head-cannons and was wondering if we could get some more for Sebastian đȘ»
đȘ»sdv; Sebastian hcs
A/n- hiiiii!!! Ty for the request ofc I can <:
General, friends, crushing, relationship.
‷ General
đhis mom doesnât know that he smokes, not because heâs trying to hide it because sheâs super oblivious. He doesnât care if his mom finds out either.
đspeaking of cigarettes. He buys them from a gas station close to pelican town. Itâs his little every other week escape.
đheâs not into shooting games. He never was even when he was younger.
đhas gages.
đhas a tattoo of a spider behind his ear.
đwas coddled by his mom when he was younger. Total mommas boy, so after Maru came into the picture and he got the slightest taste of having a sibling he wasnât used to it. Didnât like Maru, still doesnât.
đwill eat pizza rolls cold.
đdoesnât know how to gift give lol. Sucks at it during gift exchange time.
‷ Friends
đhe doesnât have many friends so he cherishes you.
đhis mom often tells him to go places with you. Because sheâs so happy he has some friends to spend his time with.
đdoesnât like crazy hangouts. Just playing video games together or going on a walk is an okay hang out for him
đ if you smoke, heâll share a cigarette with you only if youâre close
đhe doesnât speak much so your hangouts are mainly you talking or comfortable silence
đsending each other video game recs :)
đis terribly awkward around parents
‷ Dating
đif you have a thing for hands, youâre in luck, if he finds out, youâre screwed. Suddenly heâs gripping your thighs a little tighter so his veins can show better and his black nail polish looks more shiny..
đon the flip side, he also thinks you liking his hands is kinda funny, and teases you for it.
đyou guys smoke a lot. Not cigarettes mostly đ and those sessions go crazy, heâs most talkative and clingy when heâs high. You smell him all up close and personal with his lips trailing the back of your neck while he yaps about whatever.
đactually likes domestic life. Feeds your chickens, waters the indoor plants, and learns to make bomb food.
đ(marriage hc) I think thereâs a line of dialogue from Abigail saying something along the lines of you guys getting married keeps him from going to the city that he dreamed about. If that ever made you feel guilty after she said that, Sebastian picks up on it, and assures you everywhere you go he goes, and heâs content with that.
đhe never went to a concert before. I donât care. Heâs such a small, midwestern emo type guy. Because thereâs literally nothing in pelican town. Heâs never been to an actual big concert with confetti and stuff, so when you guys went to a real concert as a date he got so worked up from the excitement he just grabbed your collar and kissed you. Thatâs the only time heâs ever been super bold like that.
đNOT THAT DRY!! He occasionally throws in brain rot language to make you laugh throughout the day, and itâs funny given his sarcastic and otherwise semi dry texting patterns.
đhis mother adores you. Whenever you argue you go straight to her.
đMaru is also close with you. But Sebastian doesnât really like that all too much.
Credits- I got the artwork I used from Pinterest, in which they donât have the creators names, so I switched out the artwork for some random pictures I found. <3 ty random person in my comments that told me I needed to tag the creators I appreciate you
Tags
#sdv sebastian#sdv sebastian x reader#sdv x gn reader#sdv x reader headcanons#sdv x farmer#sdv x farmer headcanons#Sdv Sebastian headcanons#sdv sebastian hcs#i love you#justasecretflower
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Hi! Can you do prompt 8 with Chrollo? Have a good day!
Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, isolation, abduction, manipulation, hints of Nsfw, hints of dub-con
Prompt 8: âDonât cover my love bites or else Iâm going to add more.â
Tags: @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @cynniical @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59
Word Count: 2.4k
Prompt 8
Every rustle of the sheets threatened to slash the silence, your movements pausing every few seconds as your panicked gaze darted towards Chrollo. Dark, tousled hair covered his hair, hid the tattoo on his forehead. With his eyes closed and his breath escaping in soft patterns, he resembled a prince from a fairy tale far more than the harsh truth that you too had learned once upon a time. It was this very image of serenity that made you unable to decipher whether he was really asleep or if he was just pretending. Chrollo liked doing that a lot. Pretending to be something or someone all to observe your every reaction.
You didn't dare to crawl closer though to find out the truth. Whether you would risk waking him up in case he was actually asleep right now or his hands would suddenly grab you and confirm that he had been awake all along, all of it would just ruin you the chance to have a shot at starting your day how you wanted it to start. So the only thing you were left with was this agonisingly slow game, stopping your movements every few seconds only to slowly go on after another moment of motionlessness.
As soon as the first sole of your feet made contact with the wooden floor, your heartbeat accelerated. You didn't know why. It was rather stupid after all, the thought that such a simple thing had your heartbeat quickening so noticably within your ribcage. Yet unfortunately your life wasn't that simple anymore, not after everything that had happened. As the second sole of your feet joined the first one on the floor, you couldn't help but start chewing on the insides of your cheek. You just sat there, on the edge of the ned as you contemplated for a while. The steady sound of breaths behind you still hadn't changed yet you didn't dare to let it lull you into a false sense of security.
With one very quiet release of air that was stuck within your lungs due to the tension you were feeling at the moment, you slowly stood up from the ground. The bed groaned as your entire weight shortly dipped into one spot on the mattress before it was gone as you stood up, unsure whether you had done it too slow or too fast. All you knew was that you could only stand there frozen, wiping your sweaty palms over your bare skin as you waited with bated breath. Only once half a minute had passed did you feel courageous enough to take your steps.
Everything was done tentatively and cautiously. Your heels didnât make contact with the floor, only the front part of your feet pressing against the wood. There was always that short moment where the damp skin of your foot got stuck on the floor, leaving that little noise the moment your feet unlatched from it and even that noise, in another lifetime so insignificant, added to your nervousness. Still you went on, in your own slow tempo. Honestly, you didnât even know what you wanted to do if you were to succeed and leave the bedroom without waking Chrollo up. All you knew was that you needed to be alone right now and that wouldnât be possible as long as he was within your vicinity. What you needed was time without Chrollo.
Seeing him, hearing him, smelling him, feeling him, sensing him. All of it would only heighten the fresh set of sore memories that he had recently made with you. There was a new part of your heart that was aching, only one of many bleeding spots within your heart. Maybe it could be mended though if you could have this moment, just one moment, to yourself.
âWhere are you going?â
And just like that the hope of healing vanished, your heart silently grieving yet only able to acknowledge with nothing but defeat that another part of your essence had been stolen and corrupted by him.
Who could have known that such a gentle voice could strike so much negative emotions within you at once? It had to be done on purpose. He had to have been awake for a longer time now as the timing of it all was too well done. Just as the tips of your fingers had touched the doorknob, the spark of temporary freedom flowing through you with it.
Unable to answer that question as you yourself didnât know where exactly you had even planned to go, the only reply you could spontaneously come up with was deafening silence. Any lie that you might come up with, Chrollo would see through immediately. So what would they serve you right now?
âI⊠I donât know.â
Your lips moved before your brain had fully caught on to the instructions that your brain was sending as if you had just entered a default mode. It sounded quite pathetic and you dreaded his reaction. You could so absolutely without any of his shallow displays of pity or worse, that earnest curiosity and amusement gleaming within those gray eyes. Whatever emotions you would decipher soon on his face, one thing you already knew for certain. That Chrollo would without a doubt let you know that he had already anticipated your reaction, that he would inform you that he had been watching you. The exact origins of his obsession to always tell you that he had foreseen your reaction and your plans were unknown to you. You didn't know whether his intentions were to subtly inform you that he knew you too well for you to ever have hopes of escaping his tight hold for even one second or if he had other motives, possibly even more genuine ones.
The sound of the bed creaking and the rustle of sheets was what fully caught your wariness, the confirmation that he was not only awake but moving. You spun your body awkwardly around, unsure how to face him after that whole ridiculous sequence of trying to sneak away from him. Immediately you made eye contact with those all-observing gray voids, his gaze searching yours on purpose. It was overwhelming, you were not prepared for his intimate gaze. Not that you were ever truly prepared when Chrollo was around to begin with but especially now, early in the morning and suffering from a queasy mixture of frustration and embarrassment were you throughly unable to hold his eye contact.
Automatically your own gaze fled from his, sliding down. From his muscular torso down to the sheets of the bed, the afterimage of his upper body staying within your mind for one moment longer than you would ever admit. Now at the very least his facial expressions wouldn't haunt you but that didn't erase that prickling feeling that overcame you as his eyes still were focused on you. This was doable though. As long as you wouldn't have to see whatever emotions his eyes would reveal whilst looking at you for whatever it would be, it would only mock you further.
"You don't know?" he hummed amused, repeating your answer after you. His tone gave it already away, that entertained fascination he always felt whilst observing you. Of course he'd react like this, as patient and in control as always. Admittedly, sometimes you wished to get something more out of him then that serene acknowledgement. On the other hand you knew better than to trigger the storm from the calm. You weren't that stupid after all.
You had no intention to confrim what you had already spoken before and Chrollo knew that. For all you knew, he'd probably just repeated your answer loud to let you hear just how silly it sounded now. If that was indeed the case, it had worked wonderfully as you could feel your cheeks growing warm with the shame of being caught.
"Well, what do you plan to do now?"
He only spoke up after giving you enough time to simmer in your own shame and embarrassment, the hot prickle on your neck by now having extended to your face. The air felt hotter, more uncomfortable and you more vulnerable and exposed. You were more conscious of everything and suddenly the fact that you were wearing no clothes had your whole face burning. It was early morning yet already you were physically and mentally bare for him.
"I..."
You didn't know.
You didn't know what you planned to do now. Heck, you hadn't even planned through what you would have done if you had managed to leave the bedroom without him noticing. However, you did not have the courage to repeat the same answer you had already given him for his previous question. Wouldn't that just make you look awfully stupid after all? Chrollo had always a plan, always knew what he was doing. You were nothing like him, you weren't as beautifully composed. No, you were reckless and messy, would never be able to achieve what Chrollo was capable of achieving.
"Would you prefer to lay in bed for a while longer or do you want to start the day?"
As he offered you two possible solutions on what options you had right now, you had to bite your tongue. Two so easy answers to his questions that you had been unable to think of. Really, what else could you have done besides sleeping for a while longer or starting your day? Now whatever you would choose, it would be something that Crollo had chosen for you.
Now, with the two choices presented to you though, you knew at least what you wanted to do. Because you couldn't start your day like this, already outsmarted by him. So with heavy footsteps you made your way back to bed, still refusing to meet his gaze. The softness of the mattress and the warm sheets were only a shallow comfort for you, especially the moment his firm body brushed against yours as he shuffled closer, just shy of pressing himself against you.
Warm fingertips started tracing the outline of your body, sliding smoothly over your curves. That little touch paralysed your entire body shortly as vivid memories of the previous night returned.
"You're very mobile despite our indulgences last night. Should I be glad or disappointed about that?"
You felt it. You always felt it when his gaze was trying to meet yours, wanting to figure out what your opinion on a specific topic was. Not because it could possibly influence his opinion but simply because he wanted to know. You couldn't suppress the little gulp that you did, the muscles within your body tensing up as his palms rested on your hips, pulling you closer to himself.
Whilst your own brain was still trying to come up with an answer that would satisfy him, your body already reacted to his unwanted touch. Your palms manoeuvred themselves within the cramped space under the blanket up to his chest, resting flatly against it. This simple yet very telling gesture had Chrollo stopping within his movements, observing your hands as they pressed against his chest before gray eyes darted to your face.
Your own vision was focused on your hands as well, silently furious that your body had made a choice whilst your mind had been too busy scrambling for a way to appease Chrollo. Yet the sad truth was that your own wishes and desires would never be his priority. Not as long as he didn't see the advantage that he would earn in the long run. For the first time that day you finally dared to look him into his eyes with as much emotional preparation as you could gather. Almost immediately you wished to wither away as those analysing gaze met yours. He was doing it again, you could tell. Whilst the true depths of his mind were places you would never be able to understand or dive into, you knew that he was calculating again. Weighting whether obeying your silent plea would promise him a bigger reward later on or if proceeding and following his current desires would provide him with a greater pleasure.
That silence was painful. It was heavy with uncertainty and the knowledge that no matter what he would decide on, you would have to comply with.
Only when his hold loosened and that calculative gleam slowly simmered down were you sure that he had decided against letting sexual desire guide him once more. In the back of your mind you knew that this meant that he would only demand more from you another time but right now, in the present, you felt more at ease with that decision.
You felt yourself almost fully relaxing, only a slight stiffness remaining within your body that had become a constant alert simply due to his presence. Still, it was the closest to peace that you were capable of feeling so you took it. Even as your body was smushed against his, even as you felt the few chaste kisses that he pressed against your forehead and face. Nevertheless, you willed yourself to relax as you closed your eyes, hoping to doze off and start this day again. The words that Chrollo murmured softly next had you slowly opening them again once more.
"The rest of the spiders is coming later today. There's something important that I have to discuss with them. Why don't you come with me?"
The idea of seeing other people made your heart race. The idea of seeing some very specific people again made your heart drop. You got along more or less with all of the spiders, only because you were Chrollo's darling. Yet you would never deny that you had clear preferences with whom you would rather spend your time with. After having been surrounded with nothing but Chrollo for so many weeks though, you would gladly endure Feitan's scary scowls, Machi's sharp glares and Shalnark's eery grins. So you nodded quietly in agreement, already brainstorming what clothes you should wear. As long as you would be able to cover everything up, you'd be good to go.
Another kiss, close to your ears. followed by a pleased hum due to your answer.
"We should make sure that you look extra pretty today then. It's been a while since they've seen you and I want to show them how far you've come since the last time. I'll help you choose your clothes for later."
All semblance of relaxation was gone when his words reached your brain as the familiar rigidness returned, the unease back as if it had never been gone in the first place.
"Wait, wha-"
This time his lips met yours, the sensation as cold and as alienating as always.
âDonât cover my love bites or else Iâm going to add more.â
#yandere x reader#yandere hunter x hunter#yandere hxh#yandere chrollo#yandere chrollo lucilfer#hunter x hunter x reader#hxh x reader#chrollo x reader#chrollo lucilfer x reader#chrollo x y/n#chrollo x you#yandere smut
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to plot or to not plot, that's the question
there's post under the tag that... really tickled my brain because i somewhat agree with it. but not entirely, considering i do still believe OP sounds... i dunno, something, while they are telling FK stans to âhave some dignityâ. so I'll just add to that, because i think fan interpretation and looking deep into a story is important, than say, just being fed all the info.
now let's start with saying i am a FKT stan and I'll be somewhat biased in my approach, but i will still try to keep this as neutral as possible.
that said, i do think jojo's writing needs improvement. a looooooot of improvement. the other day i was complaining to my friend @skyfish7 how jojo tends to use serious topics as plot devices and then does nothing with them. also the fact that he has a flair for drama and usually seems to include it in places to engage the viewers but he handles it poorly (boeing, I'm looking at you bitchass) or simply doesn't conclude them well (kant's phobia, bison's bdsm shtick, etc, i know we still have 2 eps left, don't kill me yet).
i do think OP was coming from a genuine place but also, i will take the time to defend jojo here too. because THK is not all trash. joong and dunk's characters are visibly seen to be falling in love, whereas first and khaotung's are more subtle.
i know what OP means by saying that it's still hard to believe that kant is in love with bison. because part of me feels that too. i believe a lot of it is because we do not see any detailed development where it's needed or it is skipped over in favour for more drama. like i said, jojo tends to gravitate towards big impactful scenes but he does not lay out the finer details. i am choosing to think that's just his writing style and not him just being a terrible writer. as my girl sky said, it leaves something to the viewer's imagination. and yes, she's right and i agree. spoon feeding every bit of a story is lame and boring, but sometime you do need to add little details where they are needed.
if you've already read my post about how THK seems to be losing steam, you might know what I'm talking about.
I'm very much convinced that this could have done well with a binge watch or if it were in movie format. but imo there's too many things going on with the focus distributed disproportionately among them, which in turn, i think, kinda makes the character development take backseat.
but let me add something about bikant because OP seems to be under the impression that they are simply trash.
jojo tends to make the falling in love subtle. at least for his FK characters. in bikant's case, they were both already smitten with each other from the first meeting. especially kant. he was head over heels for bison and it was very visible. it was deliberately shown. so when he does start the mission of getting dirt on him, the most visible emotion we see from kant is guilt. nothing else but guilt. and that is because it's already established he likes bison as a person. kant's character is written as someone who compartmentalizes things so even when he does find out bison's a hitman and there's proof (we see him staring horrified at the corkboard in their house) he quickly dismisses it. we repeatedly see style telling us that kant is smitten with bison. why? because kant doesn't have the mental capacity to think about romance right now, so it's style who tells the viewers his friend is wrapped around bison's little finger. the time when we finally actually see him do anything remotely truthful is ep#7 â the bowling alley and northern lights scene. kant has successfully gathered all the info he can and now he knows he might lose bison. so this one night he actually goes and lets himself love truthfully. he does all the things he would have done after that first meeting with bison. and then when bison gets shot, that's when he realises what he actually wants. the hospital scene is an important one because it cements the fact that kant cares, kant is in love, but his brain hasn't caught up to the feeling yet the idea is there, the proof is there, but he hasn't had the reprieve to sit and think and let that love marinate well. it's why even when kant says that he loves bison, it's difficult for us to believe. it's difficult for bison to believe. remember, we are viewing the beach scene from bison's pov and he ultimately asks, âyou are not fooling me again, are you?â and that is the question from the viewers as well.
âyou are not fooling us again, are you, kant?â
so all bison and we can do is take kant at face value and choose to believe him. that's all there is to it.
bison on the other hand? bro has been whipped since the first night. he is a hopeless romantic. he is an abused child hungering for love stuck in an adult's body. bison has been infatuated with kant from the get go, but he has also been suspicious and we have seen that suspicion slowly drop and build back up again time and time. but the moment bison actually spends all of ep#7 with kant and says, âi feel like my life is about to changeâ, that's him falling in love. that's him acknowledging that he is gone for good and he is finally choosing to believe kant despite the previous shady sus things he's done. bison had chosen to believe in him despite fadel warning him time and time again, and that's why the beach scene hits so hard. he is simply a fool in love. he is naive. he is the younger brother who doesn't know better. he just wanted to love, he loved and he got duped into being loved back (we all know that wasn't the case, but, bison POV like i said).
now, coming back to the point i was trying to make : do i think an extra tidbit of scene where kant's thought process was expanded on could have been better? yes.. maybe. but as a writer who likes to keep her readers interpreting and guessing, i choose to forgive jojo this time (as well). like i said, maybe this is just how he tends to write and honestly that's fine. every writer has a set of audience they are aiming for and i think there are plenty who enjoy his work (i do too, i just wish he'd tone down on the super big things suddenly being thrown in out of nowhere and then doing nothing with it).
and as far as sandray goes, boy do i have news for OP because ray is a classic example of a mentally ill abused child who is now an alcoholic and sand is a surrogate husband/caregiver growing up in poverty who puts himself last. that's their story. that's the story jojo wanted to tell, and i will rant about ray and sand and forgiveness (because OP thinks he is an asshole, so i want to make a point) but.... in a different post.
for now, this is it. i hope you forgive and understand kant. bro is trying and so are we.
#the heart killers#kant pattanawat#bikant#kantbison#kant x bison#bison thk#the heart killers the series#my meta#source : 29daffodils#firstkhao#firstkhaotung#sandray#raysand#ofts#only friends the series#only friends
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out of the blue, i fell for you đŠ
summary: you and zayn fall hard and fast for each other while youâre working as his tour photographer
vicious speaks: i listened to i can see you one (1) time and this was born. i had so much fun making it and would love to add more to this universe in the future if itâs something you guys would want! đ
zayn masterlist
âââââââââ â€ïž âââââââââ
liked by zayn, yourbff and others
yourusername uk you have been amazing so far đ€ 3 shows down, many more to go!
tagged zayn
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yourbff still canât believe youâre on tour with THEE zayn malik!!
‷ yourusername you and me both đ
inzayn love seeing zayn through your eyes!
liked by yourusername and zayn
zayn these shots are sick! been a pleasure working with you
‷ yourusername the pleasureâs all mine â„ïž
‷ fan1 theyâre so cute already
yourmom so proud of my baby đ„č
‷ yourusername i love you <3
fan2 the best photographer on tour with the best male vocalist, we love to see it đ
‷ yourusername lol youâre too kind!!
âââââââââ â€ïž âââââââââ
yourusername has added to their stories
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fan1 youâve only been on tour a short time and you already get us đ
liked by yourusername
zayn you donât know what you just started
‷ yourusername trust me, iâm very aware đ
‷ zayn trouble.
fan2 zayn hiring a photographer whoâs also a fangirl was a genius idea
yourbff the zquadâs gonna dethrone zayn and make you their new king
‷ yourusername LMAO
fan3 yn you icon, you know what the people want!!
‷ yourusername gotta make sure you guys are fed đ«Ą
yourbrother a ridiculously attractive manâŠyn i swear if you donât go after him, i will
‷ yourusername shut the fuck up đ
âââââââââ â€ïž âââââââââ
âââââââââ â€ïž âââââââââ
zaynnews according to a dm sent to deuxmoi, zayn and his tour photographer yn were getting a little cozy at dinner last night! is love in the air for these two?
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fan1 are you guys really gonna believe something sent to deuxmoi of all people?
fan2 âtour photographerâ she has a name and itâs yn.
fan3 theyâre making it seem like they were on a date when in reality it was a dinner with the whole crew. classic deuxmoi đ
fan4 i think theyâd be cute together, they always have a flirty vibe whenever they interact during a show. it isnât really any of our business, though.
âââââââââ â€ïž âââââââââ
zayn has added to their stories
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fan1 HELLO IS THIS A HARD LAUNCH???
yourusername the best day đ„°
‷ zayn letâs do it again soonđ
‷ yourusername just say the word <3
louist91 the fans are gonna lose it, mate đ€Ł
‷ zayn lmao they already are
yourbff rip to your notifications
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fan2 oh God youâre in your active era and boyfriend era apparently đ WE WONâT SURVIVE
mammamalik ynâs such a lovely woman! i look forwards to getting to know her more â€ïž
‷ zayn sheâs the best. she said she adores you and feels the same!
fan3 iâd say this was a hard launch but i doubt you even know what that is
niallhoran please tell me you guys are together, i canât take any more of the pining đ
‷ zayn weâre getting there. iâd say i wasnât pining but it was pretty pathetic đ
âââââââââ â€ïž âââââââââ
liked by yourbrother, zayn and others
yourusername life lately đ
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zayn weâre kinda cute
‷ yourusername the cutest
‷ fan1 just confirm your relationship already đ
‷ fan2 right? theyâre not subtle!!
yourbrother coffee, flowers, pastriesâŠheâs a keeper
liked by zayn and yourusername
yourbff who is that gorgeous gorgeous girl on the first slide đ
‷ yourusername idk đ€š some rando
fan3 does no one else think itâs inappropriate for zayn to be dating an employee?
‷ fan4 inappropriate how? theyâre both consenting adults who can choose to enter a relationship if thatâs what they want. i swear you people are always trying to make something into what it isnât. just be happy that zaynâs happy!!
liked by zayn
âââââââââ â€ïž âââââââââ
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fan1 these pics are so boyfriend coded đ i just know yn was behind the camera
fan2 seeing you through yns eyes is something iâll never get tired of
mammamalik love you â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž
‷ zayn love you, mum!
fan3 i canât believe youâre in your boyfriend era and youâre being activeâŠwe used to pray for times like these đ
fan4 can you and yn stop torturing us and confirm your relationship already, we want more boyfriend content!!!
yourusername no photo creds đđ
‷ zayn babe everyone already knows you took them. you should see my dms, apparently theyâre âboyfriend codedâ whatever that means
‷ yourusername oh wow đ i donât know whatâs funnier, the fact that iâm so easy to recognize or the fact that you donât know the meaning of boyfriend coded
‷ zayn well come over here and explain it to me
‷ yourusername anything for you, sir đ«Ą
‷ zayn troubleâŠ
âââââââââ â€ïž âââââââââ
liked by zayn, louist91 and others
yourusername LA! you were simply âšiconicâš vegas, see you đ
tagged zayn
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fan1 LOUIS IN THE LIKES
fan2 drop the zouis pics, we know to have them
‷ yourusername đ€
‷ fan3 WHAT DOES THAT MEAN
zayn â€ïž
‷ yourusername đ
louist91 iâm hiring you next
‷ niallhoran no, i am
‷ harrystyles actually, i am
‷ zayn back off, sheâs mine
‷ yourusername ladies, ladies, please. thereâs enough of me to go around!!
‷ fan4 queen đ
‷ fan5 louis attending a show, the boys fighting over ynâŠwhat fucking parallel universe did i wake up in???
‷ fan6 the boys are gonna be passing poor yn around like a blunt
‷ yourusername CACKLING
yourbff youâve officially made it đ
liked by yourusername
yourmom my talented girl!! i love and miss you đ
‷ yourusername mama đ„č i love and miss you SO much đ«¶đŒ
âââââââââ â€ïž âââââââââ
liked by yourbrother
zaynnews zayn and his tour photographer yn were seen getting hot and heavy in los angeles!
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fan1 âhot and heavyâ is an interesting choice of words when all they did was share a couple kisses
fan2 this is such an invasion of privacy, iâm sure they didnât want pictures taken of them during an intimate moment.
‷ fan3 eh, clearly they didnât care about pics being taken. zayn knows that wherever he goes, there are bound to be pics of him đ€·ââïž heâs also not new to this and knows how to avoid being seen if he really wants to. they likely talked about it and decided they didnât want to hide their relationship
liked by yourbrother
fan4 yns brother in the likes is sending me so bad
fan5 no one even knew who she was until rumors started swirling about them dating. sheâll dump him once sheâs done using his fame
‷ yourbrother yn was already a highly successful photographer before even knowing zayn which is how he discovered her. you can dislike my sister all you want but donât spread lies around about someone you donât even know.
‷ fan6 KING
‷ fan7 we love a protective brother đ„°
‷ fan8 GET THEIR ASS
‷ fan9 he really said âi know some of yâall are gonna talk shit but can you at least come correct?â đ
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âââââââââ â€ïž âââââââââ
liked by yourusername, mammamalik and others
zayn itâs golden like daylight
yourusername i love you đ
‷ zayn i love you more đ
yourbff this yn ass caption đ iâm crying
‷ zayn lmao she made it very clear what it had to be
‷ yourusername baby, youâre not supposed to tell everyone!!
‷ zayn iâll make it up to you
‷ yourusername đ
‷ yourbff right in front of my saladâŠ
fan1 the way you can just tell yn ghostwrote the caption dkfjfjs our girl is serious about two things: her work and taylor swift!
liked by yourusername
fan2 yaâll are SO cute đ„č
‷ yourusername thank you, darling đ„°
yourbrother yourusername glad you took my warning seriously
‷ zayn what warning?
‷ yourusername đđ iâll tell you later
fan3 ofc thee swiftie of all time would make zayn use taylor lyrics for their confirmation post
‷ yourusername i am a swiftie first, human second đ«Ą
louist91 wow, iâm so shocked. i definitely had no idea you were together.
‷ niallhoran same.
‷ harrystyles same.
‷ yourusername alright, smart asses đ
‷ fan4 ynâs really out here living our dream
mammamalik adore you two â€ïžâ€ïž
liked by zayn and yourusername
#zayn malik x reader#zayn x reader#zayn malik x you#zayn malik x y/n#zayn malik smau#zayn malik fic#zayn fic#zayn malik imagine#zayn malik fake instagram#zayn malik fanfic#zayn malik fluff#zayn malik#zayn#1d x reader#1d x you#1d x y/n#1d fic#1d imagine#1d fluff#1d smau#1d fanfic#1d#one direction x reader#one direction x you#one direction x y/n#one direction fic#one direction imagine#one direction fanfic#one direction fluff#one direction
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9-1-1: Lone Star - Favorite Fandom Moments
Thank you @thisbuildinghasfeelings for coming up with this lovely idea, and for the tags @everlastingday @reyesstrand @carlossreaders @nisbanisba @tellmegoodbye @heartstringsduet @firstprince-history-huh @bonheur-cafe @carlos-in-glasses @chicgeekgirl89 @herefortarlos!
I haven't been part of the fandom for long; I joined somewhere at the end of October 2024, and I still consider myself new. Sometimes, I feel a little like an outsider, which has nothing to do with you all. You have been wonderful and supportive, truly!
Discovering Tarlos and Fanfiction
While I joined in October, I actually discovered 911LS in April 2024 when I, feeling bored, decided to type 'gay' into my Disney+ search. I wish I could say I saw a clip somewhere that made me look into 911LS, but nope, it was just me typing 'gay.' Who would have thought that I would fall in love with Tarlos and the whole bunch? Not me! I have never felt this way about any movie, TV show, or bookânever. I binged the first four seasons and then rewatched them all right after finishing. Around July, I started wanting more. Now, I knew fanfiction existed; I just never got into it and never had the drive to read fan-created content until I came across a post on Reddit about Tarlos fanfictions. Missing Moments by @paperstorm was right there, and thus my Ao3 journey began.
Writing My Own Fics and Joining Tumblr
After reading various works, I started wanting to share my own. I had never written anything more than a couple of pages of random scenes, but I had this very clear idea in my mind for a Tarlos fic, so I just tried writing it. English is not my native language, and it was my first time writing a story in English, so my anxiety was through the roof when I decided to post the first chapter of Weep Not for Me. I kept telling myself that it was okay if people didn't like it, but then people did like it! I was elated at how welcoming the fandom is, and while Ao3 was great, joining Tumblr was the icing on the cake.
Now, she doesn't know this (I think), but the main reason this account even exists is @nisbanisba. I recognized her from Ao3, formally made an actual account, and followed her on here. Thanks to her, I got to connect with so many people! I'm always amazed by how different this corner of the internet is from my past experiencesâhow nice people are, even to newcomers and strangers like me.
Watching Season 5 Live
It's such a great experience to read everyone's thoughts about an episode as it airs for the first time! The reactions to scenes, the comments that add depth or make me notice things I otherwise wouldn't have, the theories, and, most of all, the giggles over shared moments like Owen heroically galloping on Thunder or TK's birthday partyâso many moments that I would have otherwise experienced alone, in my own bubble, but instead I enjoyed in the dead of night at 2 AM with so many of you. Special thanks to @tellmegoodbye and @ironheartwriter for the Discord server that allows me to catch these last episodes (the link I used to use stopped working, but they saved me). While it's too soon for the show to end, I'm glad I got to enjoy this last season of a show that means so much to me with everyone here.
The show may be ending, but the characters will always remain, and I hope that most (if not all) of you will continue to share this love for 911LSâwhether through gifs, fics, art, music, or anything else. I know I will.
I'm not sure who has or hasn't done this so, I'll leave an open tag!
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fuck it friday
it's technically friday by me (not quite by an hour) and I feel like putting a lil bit of the fic that was inspired by this pic (and well many of them actually lolz) out in the universe while I work to get the damn thing done
Alex is taking a sip from this morning's third coffee, and thatâs when it happens. His cup betrays him, and the lid pops off. Heâs now wearing whatâs left of his lukewarm coffee, and the shirt he chose specially to look so professional for this shoot is ruined. âFuck,â he mutters as he starts to remove his soaked shirt heading to the other side of the room where he thinks he dropped the bag with the spare clothes he brought along just in case. He gets the shirt off and realizes his pants are not much better, at least he packed a second pair. He starts stripping them off while looking for his bag, heâs pulling his last leg out of them when he realizes the bag is not thereâhe left it on the floor below, of course. "Of fucking course.â He wants to scream but instead jogs down the stairs, his sock-covered feet slapping against them, echoing in the small space. Heâs got his clothes in hand, and if heâs honest, running in just his underwear down these spiral stairs is kind of fun. Alex is digging through his bag, his fingers brush against shirt after shirt as he tries to decide on which option will look most professional, when he hears itâa sharp gasp pierces the air from behind him. Alex freezes, as if someone his the pause button on the room, his stomach dropsâso much for being a professional. He forces himself to look over his shoulder, and there he is, the man who is the model for todayâs shoot, looking even better in person and looking at Alexâs ass with interest if heâs not mistaken. Alex pivots slowly and his eyes land on the man in the doorwayâhe looks even better in person, and Alex thinks that is incredibly unfair.  Henryâs eyes are wider than Alex thought eyes could get, and his mouth is open like he wants to say something but doesnât quite know what to say. He watches Henryâs gaze drag away from his ass and over the rest of his body before coming back to his face, Alex momentarily forgets heâs in need of clothes. The blush that spreads over Henryâs cheeks is too-fucking-adorable for words. âI, uhâŠâ Alex starts, grasping for something to say. Heâs unable to get anything even remotely intelligent out though, because his brain short-circuits when Henry smiles at him. Itâs big, bright, and if Alex is honest entirely disarming.
big old open tag for anyone who wants to play
and if i wasn't sleepy i would say thanks for the sunday (can't remember if i did anything) and wed tags but well i really should be trying to sleep lolz - but i appreciate them and luv y'all bunches
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đŻđœđ đđđ đ¶đđč đđđđ đ
đ.đ€
Summary: The story of Miguel's first and only love, you. A passage through the most significant moments of your relationship. Tags/Warnings: pre!Spiderman Miguel x Civilian!Reader + Spider!Miguel x Civilian!Reader, fem!reader, fluff, smut (Minors don't interact, please) Word count: 8k Note: I recommend listening to "Sugar"-Sleep Token, It is so good (mainly in the 'you know' scene). <<Part1 || masterlist ||
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After realising how he felt about you, Miguel tried to take a little distance. He was scared. Terrified even. He had never felt this. Never felt the need to, the urge, to make someone his.
 And that was what scared him. He was a total loser, how could someone like you want something with him?. You were perfect in his eyes, and he was far from it. You were probably experienced too, which he wasnât. Miguelâs insecurities were at all time high.Â
Besides, he couldnât get the comments you had made the first time you met out of his head. You hated or at least disliked Valentine's day. So did he, not long ago. Damn, how things changed.Â
Six months ago he dreaded the question: âThere is someone special in your life?â, but nowâŠÂ
You appeared in every thought. Your face materialised in the most random moments. If someone were to ask him that question today, his immediate answer would be yes, grinning from ear to ear. He would jump at any opportunity to talk about you.
Not every thought was happy, though. Miguel imagined countless scenarios where he came forward, pouring his heart out to you, and you didnât feel the same way. Negative assumptions clouded his head day and night, leaving an empty feeling in his chest. He didnât want to think about them, but there was always a voice on the back of his head tearing him down to pieces. Telling him he didnât deserve you. He wasnât enough. He would never be.Â
His feelings were growing bigger and bigger, despite his attempts to keep them down. His chest would explode at any minute if he didnât let them go. The words at the edge of his tongue, begging to come out. Every time he was close to you, so close he could smell your scent, which drove him crazy, he felt like throwing up. The air would be pushed out of his lungs every time you smiled at him. You stared at him with those beautiful eyes, fueling the idea that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same.Â
That there was a possibility.Â
It didnât help that, due to the advances on both of your researches, you had to stay more time in the lab. Meaning, it was just the two of you, for hours on end. Many would say it was the perfect opportunity, but what if you said no? What if you secretly hated him? What ifâ
âMiguel?â you asked gently, moving closer to where he was standing. He had been staring off at the wall for at least five minutes, unmoving. He was barely blinking, and his hands were sweaty. âAre you okay?â you continued, moving even closer.Â
Miguel instinctively took a step back, creating distance between the two of you. You were intoxicating. He shut his eyes hard, trying to clear his thoughts. While doing so, he missed the hurt look over your face.Â
âYeah, I⊠I am fine, donât worryâ he whispered. He clutched the edge of the table. Come on Miguel, take a grip on yourself.Â
âAre youâŠ, are you sure? You donât look okayâ You fidgeted with the hem of your sweater.
âYesâ he huffed. His breathing became more erratic. Miguel dropped his head, eyes remaining shut, hoping to block you off.Â
But he couldnât.Â
He couldnât tell you how much you affected him, even though he wished to. All he wanted was to hug you, make you feel how you made him feel. But no. He couldnât. Shouldnât.Â
âDid IâŠâ you began, your voice trembling. âDid I do something wrong?â. You sniffed, making Miguel open his eyes immediately and look at you.Â
You were looking down. Tears streaming down your cheeks, despite your efforts to keep them at bay. Your hands, barely visible, pull at the end of your sweater, making yourself smaller. Trying to hide.Â
Shit. âNo no noâ Miguel whispered, hurriedly walking towards you. He didnât know what to do. He wanted to hug you, but would that be alright? Or, should he just go for a supportive hand to the shoulder? So, thatâs what he did. âYou.. you did nothing wrong. Hey, please. Look at meâ he mumbled, barely audible. Thankfully, he was closer than he realised. His mouth only inches away from the crown of your head. He was basically towering over you.Â
You looked up. Teary eyes locking into his. Trembling lips mumbling incoherent things, a lot of âsorrysâ and âpleaseâ. Miguelâs heart broke. He had done this. Him. No one else. He was so focused on his own feelings, on not getting hurt, that he didnât realise how his actions were affecting you.
âShhh, itâs okay.â Miguel cooed, drawing figures with his thumb on your shoulder. Hand, that he noted, you hadnât pushed away nor seemed uncomfortable about. Â
You leaned into his touch. Your cheek grazing his hand, never breaking eye contact. Miguelâs eyes traveled from focusing on one eye to the other, to your nose, your mouth, everything. He wanted to memorize your face in case this was the end. While doing so, ever so lightly, his hand drifted upwards, caressing your cheek, without realising.Â
You closed your eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling. His hands were sweaty, but he was warm, and he smelled nice. Your breath slowed down, calming yourself. You nuzzled your cheek further. Sheâs adorable, Miguel thought, lost in how ethereal you were. His body moving on its own. Â
Miguel's eyes went wide. A moment of clarity letting him be aware of his actions. He wanted to retreat his hand, stop touching you, but at the feeling of the slight pull movement from his hand, yours instinctively wrapped around his wrist gently, keeping him there.Â
You opened your eyes slowly. Small droplets of water hanging from your lashes. Your eyes searched his, a message clear on them. Stay. âPleaseâ you begged. Your words vibrated against his skin. Your cheek squeezed against his hand. Your eyes big, like a puppy begging for treats.Â
Miguel left out a breath he didnât know he was holding in. His shoulders instantly relaxed. The worried lines on his face dissipated, and a small smile pulled at the edge of his lips. He didnât want to leave, he would stay how and where you wanted for eternity. All you had to do was ask.Â
He had a feeling this was the night, and the conversation wasnât going to be short. So, better get comfortable.Â
 âCome, sitâ he said, retreating his hand slowly, trying not to startle you, before slightly bending down to grab the nearest stool behind you. He gently placed his hands against your shoulders guiding you down.Â
You sat down, putting your feet on the bar and tugging them closer to your chest. Placing your chin on top of your knees. Miguel sat down in front of you, leaving a decent space between the two.Â
Your eyes were still glassy from crying. Miguel felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. That someone being himself. He clenched his fists over his legs, grabbing the material of his trousers. How could he be so stupid?.Â
¿Qué mierda me estå pasando? Miguel muttered looking down. He was losing his head. (What the hell is happening to me)
âAre you sure you are okay?â
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, even though it was barely audible. Did he just say that aloud? His eyes shot to yours. You were curious, he could tell, and also scared. Of him, for him? He couldnât tell, which made him anxious.
âI am sorry if I ever crossed the lineâ you continued, seeing that he wasnât responding. âI-â You dropped your arms and placed your feet on the floor, getting more comfortable in the stool, breaking eye contact while doing so.Â
âIt was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.â You rubbed your face, cleaning the tears and pushing back the hair stuck on your cheeks. You looked down, placing your hands together over your legs. âI just thought that,â you shrugged your shoulders. âyou liked meâ. You looked up slowly, biting your lip. Your face was a little turned away, looking at him softly, eager, but also scared by the response.Â
Miguelâs eyes opened like plates. Like you? Like, like like you? He was stunned. Miguel couldnât believe his ears. You liked him! This was the greatest moment of hisâ
âOr maybe it was all in my head, I donât knowâ you continued, turning around on the stool, giving your back to him while you hugged yourself. Asshole. How long were you silent for?
âNO!â he shouted. His first instinct was to stand up and get closer to you. âNo,â he said more calmly, collecting himself.Â
You turned around slowly. Fresh new tears adorning your face. Slowly, but surely, Miguel reached for your cheek. His fingers made contact with your skin, immediately feeling your warmth. As soon as he felt you lean into it, he applied pressure caressing you, wiping the tears away.Â
âIâm sorry.â He began. âI⊠I am a loserâ Miguel scanned your face. He couldnât back out now.Â
âYou donâtââ you wiped the side of your face with the back of your sleeve, still leaning onto his hand. âDonât seem like one to meâ You placed your hand on top of his, melting into his touch.
âMaybe, but I amâ He sighed, looking at your face. You were so beautiful. He needed to sit down. He could feel his whole body trembling. Miguel was nervous. Even more nervous than when he interviewed for Alchemax. He looked back, spotting the forgotten stool. He wasnât leaving your touch again, so he reached with his foot and pulled it towards him.Â
He sat down, much closer now, your legs brushing against each other. The proximity was exhilarating. He could smell your perfume. Feel your warmth under the palm of his hand. He could see the way your chest went up and down from your breathing. How your lashes gently touched the top of your cheeks every time you blinked.Â
Miguel was charmed by you. If you told him you were a witch who had cast a spell on him, he would believe it. No doubt in his mind.Â
Focus Miguel, he thought. This was a golden opportunity, and he couldnât let it slip away. His eyes landed on his hand, gently stroking the skin of your cheek. You were so soft and warm. Miguel could feel your eyes staring at him, but he couldnât look at them. Not now. He needed time to be bolder, to build the guts to pour his heart out to you.Â
âMiguelâ you whispered. âItâs okay if you donât feel the same. I understand.â
Miguel moved his hand, breaking away from your grasp. He moved down the curvature of your face. The back of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their way. He grabbed your chin gently, his thumb centimeters away from your lips. Hovering. Oh, how he wished he had the experience. The bravery. The audacity to just dive in and capture your lips with his. Say everything with his mouth that words couldnât express. Tangle his tongue with yours instead of it tangling with the thoughts running through his head.
âI am a loserâ he repeated, more serious this time. His focus remained on your lips. âI donât know how to do this.â he confessed, his thumb finally making contact with the pout that had formed in your face. They were soft. They looked so kissable. He traced the shape of your mouth lightly, before using his fingers under your chin to angle your face towards his.Â
His eyes finally gazed into yours. Your cheeks were redder now, skin warmer. âIâve never done thisâ He whispered, inching closer. âAll I knowââ he gulped, looking down again, to your lips. âis that you drive me crazy. I like you, I really doâ. Your noses were now brushing together. His breath fanning over your cheeks, gently moving your lashes.
His lips hovering over yours, too scared to make the final move.Â
âMiguelâ you pleaded, looking at him from your hooded eyes. Your mouth slightly agape. He looked up to your eyes again. There was a pause. Neither of you dared move.Â
The tension was palpable in the air. Both your breaths united. Words werenât needed in this moment, only actions. His eyes sent you a silent plea. A question. Permission to do what he wanted the most. You nodded softly, and that is all it took for him to take the leap.Â
Miguelâs lips crush into yours softly. You closed your eyes, melting into his touch, and so did he. Your lips were softer than he had felt with his hands. He had done it! He was kissing you. But now, in the act, he didnât know how far he could go. Miguelâs hand on your cheek froze, he was cupping your face lightly, but his grip faltered.Â
You pulled back softly, creating distance. Miguel chased you with his lips, not wanting to let go yet. You giggled, as you moved back, staring at his cute face. It was all red and warm. His lips slightly parted, letting out puffs of air out.Â
Miguel opened his eyes slowly, blinking, as in a trance. Miguel was met with your smile, that pretty smile he learnt to cherish and to look forward to.Â
âItâs okayâ you whispered, taking both of his hands and placing them in your waist. You shifted closer, the stool screeched against the floor. Your legs parted a little, leaving enough space for one of his own to settle there.Â
You placed the palms of your hand over his chest. Your eyes trailed from his chest, to his neck, until your gazes met again. âI trust you.â you smiled. You dove back again, this time showing more confidence.Â
As soon as your lips brushed against his, Miguelâs heart skipped a beat. Your hands travelled from his chest to his neck, while his were still locked around your waist. Every thought that miraculously was still in Miguelâs head, flew out of the window. All he could register was you.
 All of you.Â
The way your lips brushed and pushed against his. How they slightly parted, little amounts of air leaving them, making contact against his skin. The way your hands were now playing with the curls on the back of his neck, twirling them around your fingers. Miguel groaned. The taste of you becoming unbearable. He needed more.Â
Hopefully, you understood. Miguel felt your tongue against his lips, before granting you access. As the kiss deepened, the tension on his body dissipated. He could feel your hands playing with his hair, loosening his muscles.Â
As every second passed, Miguel grew more confident.Â
First, he squeezed your waist, testing. He didnât want to overstep, but at the same time, he needed more. He wanted to feel your skin on his. Pull noises out of you, created by his touch.Â
His hands moved up, stopping below your breasts. His thumbs slightly grazed under them. You inhaled sharply, surprised, but glad he was loosening. You too wanted him to explore more, to take you. To make you his.Â
While one of his hands stayed there, squeezing and drawing figures over your sweater, the other detached from your body, before making contact with your arm. He squeezed your forearm, before tracing your arm and reaching your neck.Â
Miguel grabbed your neck, taking control of the kiss. He angled you just the way he wanted, giving him more access to explore your mouth. You groaned, the vibrations traveling through Miguelâs fingers. He pressed his thumb against your throat, the kiss becoming more passionate.Â
You pulled at his hair, his sweater, everything your hands could grasp to keep him close, to pull him even closer. Miguel was feeling lightheaded, his breathing becoming more ragged, but he didnât want to stop. He had had a taste of you, and he didnât know if he was ready to stop.Â
Every sound he coaxed out of you made him more confident. He was obsessed, as if he wasnât already. Every caress, each touch without an exception your hands made on his body drove him nuts. His lungs were beginning to scream at him for air, so were yours, but neither made an attempt to pull back. You were in a fever dream, and you didnât want it to stop.Â
Miguelâs body was on fire. The kiss became sloppy, teeth clicking against one another. The lab wasnât silent anymore, your breaths were heavy, both of you panting, an occasional moan erupted from you, making Miguel groan as a response every time.Â
He knew if he continued, he would do things he would regret. Not entirely because of the action, but because of the timing. You were his first, he didnât want to fuck up. He needed to go slow.Â
Miguel reluctantly pulled back from the kiss. He rested his forehead on yours, his hand still around your neck, his thumb caressing your warm, and slightly sweaty skin. Both of your chests going up and down, catching your breaths. He could feel the warm air exiting your mouth hit his face, making him smile. It wasnât a dream, you were right there, in front of him, touching him, melting under his touch.Â
Miguel opened his eyes slowly, squinting, not comfortable with the now really bright light of the lab. You had been kissing for what felt like hours, his eyes had been shut all the time, basking in the feeling.Â
He found you staring back at him through your lashes. A grin formed on your face once you two made eye contact. Miguelâs expression mirrored yours, he was ecstatic. His hands moved up your neck, towards your cheek, drawing figures there as well.Â
âSo..â you began, leaning into his touch. Your voice was a little hoarse. Gosh, you sounded so sexy. You bit your lip, looking down a little, towards Miguelâs lips. âDoes this mean you like me too?âÂ
Miguel laughed, his whole body shaking. You giggled as well, breaking the tension on your body and in the room. Miguel cupped both sides of your face, before bringing you in for a quick peck, and a kiss to your forehead and nose.Â
He pulled back, admiring you. Your smiley face squished against his hands. âYesâ he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing visible, just melting into you, feeling drawn to you. Nothing else mattered.Â
The lab fell silent, you both just staring at each other. It was comforting, the feelings being out in the air. Reciprocated feelings. You liked him, and he liked you. Nothing could go wrong from now on.Â
That moment of clarity made an idea pop on Miguelâs head. âSo⊠are you free tomorrow?â
đđČđŒ đźđżđźđ»đđœđ±đČđ·đ°
Your first date was ethereal. Miguel had decided he didnât want to go to a restaurant, or be near people in general, knowing that both you and him preferred to be private. Instead, he arranged a nice picnic with a beautiful view.Â
You had the time of your lives. Miguel had never felt so care free and light. His heart was content and he felt on cloud nine every time you laughed, you smiled at him, or kissed him. Mostly when you giggled into your kisses, he thought you were adorable, and he didnât know how he could say goodbye to you everyday. He needed to be with you 24/7, although he knew it was best for you both to have some alone time. Donât move too fast now Miguel, Jesus.
Three months had passed since you two confessed your feelings in the lab. Three whole months of stealing kisses from each other, dates every week, seeing each other at the lab every day, being so close that Miguel couldnât remember his life before you. How had he lived so long without you by his side?
Miguel couldnât believe that at first he worked by himself in the lab. You two were like one, working around each other like it was second nature. Stolen touches here and there. You wrapping your hands around his waist from the back, leaving kisses, melting his heart and still, making him blush, despite all the months of dating.Â
Unfortunately, today you had a meeting elsewhere. Meaning, Miguel was alone. He was feeling a little under the weather, he didnât like being away from you. The routine you both had broken for a day. Thanks to his mind not being present one hundred percent, he had missed how one of his co-workers messed with his machine, causing the accident.Â
Miguel had been experimenting with DNA fusions, something you knew about. This particular moment, he was curious if he could split his own (you clearly werenât there to tell him it was a stupid idea). He had no clue what he had gotten himself into, nor what his coworker had done. All he knew is that, after surviving the experiment, he felt different. Changed.Â
Miguel had always been a tall, muscular guy. But, he felt stronger, more powerful. He squinted his eyes, the artificial light in the lab hurting his eyes. Weird. He was fine just some minutes ago. He went to shut the lights. When his fingers made contact with the switch, he broke it, an abnormal strength surging from his body.Â
He felt wrong, he wanted to throw up. At that moment, all he could think about was you. Miguel rushed towards his things, throwing everything aside looking for his phone. Once he had it in his hands, the eyes staring back at him in the reflection of the black screen werenât familiar. They werenât his usual brown ones, they were red. He dropped the phone in shock, the screen shattering in pieces.Â
Miguel was pissed, causing a set of talons to emerge from his fingertips, scaring him off. What am I? What should I do? What would you think? He crumpled to the ground, shaking. What was he supposed to do? You couldnât see him like this, he couldnât lose you. He picked up the remains of his phone, before quickly gathering all his belongings and rushing to his flat. He needed time to think, he needed to be away from people. He needed to be away from you. He couldnât let you witness the monster he had become.
A few days went by, Miguel had had no contact with you. He didnât go to work, he didnât answer his phone. Nothing. Clearly, you grew worried. He had never pulled a stunt like this before. Reason why, you were now standing outside his flat door.Â
âMiguel?â you called, after knocking the door a few times. No answer. âMiguel please, I know you are in thereâ you pleaded, worry evident in your voice.Â
Miguel was pacing left to right in his living room, in front of the door. He didnât want you to see him, but he could tell you were worried. He hated making you something else that wasnât happy. The dilemma was making his head hurt, the light coming through the windows wasnât helping. During the days he had been hiding, he noticed his senses had been amplified. His eyes were ten times more sensitive to the lights.
You continued banging on the door. Tears were now running down your face.
âMiguel please,â you hiccuped, each breath was harder to take in. âPlease, I donât know what I did wrong. But please, let me in. We can talk aboutââ
At that moment, Miguel opened the door. He couldnât stand hearing you cry any longer. You sobbed, launching yourself to him. Your arms landing around his waist, your face burying in his broad chest.Â
Miguelâs arms stayed in the air, not wanting to touch you. What if his talons came out and he hurt you? He wouldnât bear it. Seeing your wet and flushed face from the crying was torture enough.Â
You cried a little more into his chest, creating a small patch of water in his shirt. You pulled yourself together, detaching yourself from him, allowing Miguel to close the door.
âIâm sorry,â you whispered, your voice hoarse from sobbing.Â
You had tear stains all over your cheeks. Miguel made an attempt to caress your face, wiping them away, but he froze in the middle. He pulled his hand back. He inhaled loudly, shutting his eyes and making fists with his hands, before turning around and going to sit on the couch.Â
You stood there, a frown in your face. What had you done for him to be so mad about you?.Â
âMig?â you mumbled, too scared to make sudden moves.Â
Miguel groaned, rubbing his face between his face. You approached him slowly, barely making a sound. You watched him quietly, deciding what to do. As there was no reaction, you sat down, leaving some space between you two. You reached towards him, placing a hand over his arms.Â
Miguel flinched away, making you retract your arm and look down to the floor.Â
âIâm sorryâ you began, trying to not break down. You sniffled, you could feel the tears already forming in your eyes. âI donât know what I did, but I am sorryâ.Â
Miguel ran his hands through his hair, pulling a little. He didnât want you to blame yourself. You had done nothing wrong! But he also didnât know how to tell you what he was.Â
âYou,â he began, not looking at you. âYou did nothing wrongâ
âThen why?â You shifted your body, facing towards him. âWhy have you been avoiding me? I thought we⊠I thought we were doing great.â The last words were barely audible.Â
âWe were⊠we are!â he corrected himself, now facing you, but not quite catching your eye.Â
You played with your fingers in your lap, resisting the urge to reach for him. âThen⊠why?â You looked at him expectantly, searching for his gaze.Â
Miguel hesitated. He played with the material of his sweatpants. He bit his lip, his knee going up and down. He needed to tell you. Either way, this relationship was over. If he didnât tell you, you would break up with him because who would date someone who hides everyday in their flat? And if he told you⊠Well, you would probably freak out, call him a monster and walk away. Both outcomes pointed to heart break.Â
âIâ I canât do thisâ he placed his head between his hands and started to cry.
Your heart broke. You didnât understand what was wrong, but you hated to see Miguel so sad, angry and frustrated, all at the same time.Â
âShhh itâs okayâ you scooched closer, hesitating to place a comforting hand on his back, but deciding to do so anyway.Â
Miguel flinched at the contact at first, but later melted into you. He leaned into you, before collapsing in your lap. He curled himself into you, his big body retracting to feet on the couch and into you.Â
You wanted to cry just from the sight. You rubbed his arms lovingly, trying to calm him down. Miguel was shaking, sob after sob cursing through his body. He mumbled incoherent stuff. Strings of âIâm sorrysâ and something along the lines of monster. You didnât know, nor care. All you wanted was for him to calm down, you wanted your baby to be okay.Â
After a few minutes, Miguel regained composure. He could breathe normally. Your warmth was soothing. The way you run your hands through his hair, caress his cheeks, tracing his sharp cheekbones. Lifting his shirt up a little so you could run your nails down his back.
For a moment, he forgot why he was so worried. You had done this countless times, you were his safe space. He could trust you. He needed to believe you wouldnât leave him.
Miguel placed his feet on the floor, lifting himself off you. He wiped the tears with the back of his hands, before making eye contact with you, for the first time in days. He saw all the worry lines in your face, making his heart clench. Miguel could see your sad expression, a pout in your lips. Your gazes locked, and your eyes widened.Â
âMiguel! Your eyesâ You reached forward, placing your hands at each side of his head, examining further.Â
âI know, thatâs part of the problemâ
âWhat happened?!â
Miguel explained to you in detail what happened the day you werenât in the lab. And, after that, he gave you a demonstration of what he had learned. He stood up and showed you his talons, as well as his fangs. Both retractable.Â
You sat there, shocked, while Miguel stood in place, watching you carefully, fully expecting you to shout âFreak!â and storm out.Â
You gathered your thoughts, and stood up slowly. Miguel took a sharp breath in. He was terrified.Â
âMiguelâ you began, looking him straight in the eye. You still had that loving stare in your eyes, that is a good sign he thought.Â
You walked closer, and when you were at arms reach of him, you slapped his arms, with all your force.Â
âOUCH!â
âHow dare you!?â you shouted. âDo you know how scared I was?. I thought you were dead. Dead!â You grabbed the roots of your hair and pulled, now pacing from left to right in front of Miguel, while he rubbed the spot where you had hit him.Â
âWhy didnât you tell me sooner? I could have helped you figure this out!â You threw your hands in the air, mumbling some more things, a few curse words and some other things Miguel didnât know if they were for his ears or for yours.Â
âI thought⊠well, maybe you would call me a monster and leaveâ He mumbled the last part, feeling ashamed.Â
That made you stop in your tracks, snapping your head towards him.Â
âLeave?â you whispered in disbelief. âLeave?â You repeated slightly louder. âIn what world would I live? Oh you are so fucking oblivious. I would rather die than leave you, you asshole. I love you, and Iââ
âYou love me?â Miguel cut you off. His eyes opened like plates, an alarm going off in his head.Â
You froze in place too, realising what you had just said.Â
âIââ you gulped. âI do. I love youâ
Miguel smiled. A toothy grin from ear to ear. He rushed towards you, lifting you in the air and spinning you around, not a care in the world if you bumped something. He hugged you tightly, burying his head in your neck. Once he placed you back on the ground, he grabbed your face and kissed you deeply.Â
âI love you too.â he sighed. âTe amoâ He pressed his forehead against yours.Â
You smiled, and hit his chest playfully. âDonât you ever pull a stunt like this ever again. You hear me?âÂ
âSi mi vida. PerdĂłnâ He kissed the top of your head before enveloping you in his arms.Â
âI love youâ you mumbled against his chest. You truly did.
Miguel was going crazy. You had been teasing him all day long. Slight touches here, caresses there. Pressing your whole body flushed against his. You were driving him insane, more than he already was. He couldnât wait to get to his flat and let you have him, because he had to be honest with himself. He didnât have a clue of what was going to go down.Â
Yes, he had done research. But that doesnât mean anything. Besides, he knows that things like porn arenât realistic, so he had a rough idea, but not quite.Â
The end of the work day couldnât come fast enough. Once it was over, you guys went to a nice dinner place, had fun, enjoyed some nice food, before deciding to go back to his place.
Miguelâs leg was bouncing up and down in the car. He was nervous, and you could tell. You placed your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to where he needed you the most.Â
âItâs okay Mig. We donât have toââ
âNo!â he cut you off, way too eager. âI want to.â
âOkayâ you rubbed his thigh affectionately, leaving your hand there for the rest of the ride home.Â
As soon as you stepped into his flat, Miguelâs lips were on your own. Sloppy, needy, warm. His hands roamed your body, tearing away the outer layers, dropping them to the floor. You doing the same with his.Â
He walked you backwards into his room, never detaching his lips from yours. You bumped a couple things on the way, but neither of you cared. Once you reached the bedroom, you turned you both around, pushing Miguel towards the bed.Â
His legs hit the edge of the bed, landing on it on his back. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his lap. You ran your hands over his body, from the hem of his trousers to his neck, while Miguelâs hands landed on your waist. You bent over, your chests touching, your faces centimeters away from each other.Â
âAre you sure?â you asked.Â
âYesâ Miguel breathed out, before grabbing the back of your head and slamming your lips together.Â
The kiss got heated. Tongues exploring each others mouth, while hands explored bodies. Your whole wait was on top of Miguel, but he didnât care. You began moving your hips, creating friction. Your center was on top of Miguelâs hard on, the only thing separating your core from him being your panties.Â
Your dress had rode up over your thighs, exposing more skin for Miguel to squeeze and touch. He groaned into the kiss, the movement of your hips driving him crazy, but he needed more. His hands planted themselves in your waist, guiding your movement. Once in a while, one would sneak down to grab a handful of your ass, giving it a pinch, resulting in a moan from you.Â
Your kisses moved down, kissing along his jaw, down to his neck. You sucked the skin into your mouth. Miguel inhaled shakily.
âAmoorâ he grunted.Â
 You smiled into his neck, biting and nipping a little more before moving down his chest. You undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing the majestic skin underneath. He had some scars thanks to being Spiderman, but he was beautiful. You could see how his muscles moved with every breath he took.Â
You kissed down the middle of his chest, over his sternum. Miguel arched his back towards your mouth, enjoying the feeling. You bite down, and nipped, tracing the scars with your tongue. You moved down, parting his legs, before sinking down to your knees, your eyes in level with the tent on his trousers.
You could already tell, he was big. You could see the outline over the material. Miguel used his elbows to lift himself off the bed, getting a better view of you. You pecked his dick over his pants, gazing up at him. Miguel swallowed hard.
You massaged him on top of his pants, getting Miguel used to the feeling. He groaned, closing his eyes momentarily, but opened them when he felt you undoing his belt. He snapped his eyes open, staring at you.
âIs this okay?â
âYeâ yesâ he stuttered.Â
You smiled at him, before continuing your actions. After a few seconds, you freed his cock out of its confinements, pulling his pants and underwear down. It hit the bottom of Miguelâs stomach, standing proud in front of you.Â
You licked your lips, staring at him, already salivating by just the sight.Â
âIs it okay?â Miguel asked, breaking you from your thoughts.
âItâs perfectâ you answered, and as to show him, you wrapped your hand around his tip, spreading the precum already there.Â
Miguel threw his head back, your hands felt way better than his own.Â
You continued to stroke him slowly, up and down. Your thumb massaging his tip, pressing at the head over his slit. Miguel was breathing heavily now, uneven. His thighs began to shake.Â
You wetted your lips, and continuing your hand movements, kissed his tip, tasting the salty precum. You spit on him, before wrapping your mouth over his head, beginning to match your hand movements with your head.Â
Miguel tried to keep looking at you, but the warmth of your mouth and the way your tongue ran over his slit drove him mad. His elbows gave away, his back hitting the mattress again. He fisted his sheets on his hands, curse words leaving his lips.Â
âYess, Jesus, fuckâ he moaned, spurring you on.Â
With your free hand, you massaged his balls. Rolling the skin over between your fingers and squeezing them. You hollow your cheeks, sucking at his shaft. You took him as far as you could, his tip hitting the back of your throat, tears forming in your eyes.Â
âOh, God, yesâ Miguel breathed out. He was feeling light headed, his skin sweaty, sticking to the sheets. He could feel a knot in his lower belly, almost at the point of bursting.Â
You pulled back, taking a moment to breathe, but never stopping your hands. His tip was red, precum leaking from it. Tons of it. He was close, you could tell. He was lasting more than you would have thought, to be honest.Â
âIâm closeeâ Miguel choked out. âPleaseâ he begged, opening his eyes slightly to stare down at you.
You continued jerking him off. Your mouth going to his balls, sucking at them, before licking a stripe down the side, following the most prominent vein, reaching his tip. You gave a few kitten lips before putting it in your mouth again. Miguelâs head flew back, eyes shutting hard.Â
He moaned your name over and over. Strings of âYes, right thereâ âFuckâ and your name falling from his lips. All of a sudden, his vision went black. Cum spurted in your mouth, while you tried to swallow most of it.Â
Miguelâs chest was heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath. He opened his eyes slowly, looking down at you, at the same moment you took his now softening cock out of your mouth, a string of saliva and cum still connecting the two.Â
âFuckâ he mumbled. You looked so pretty.Â
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smiling at him and winking. You stood up slowly, letting your dress fall off your shoulders leaving you only with your panties on. You pulled them down your legs, kicking them behind once they reached your feet.Â
Miguel was star struck. He couldnât believe you could be more perfect than you already were. But you could. Before him, he was seeing a goddess. He was about to be fucked by a goddess.Â
You straddled his lap once more, now without any item of clothing between your skin. You could already feel his dick hardening again against you. Miguelâs hand flew to your neck, bringing you in for a heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth, moving your hips to create the much needed friction you craved. His cock rubbed against your clit with each movement.Â
His hands explored the new skin available, being cautious at first, but growing bolder. He squished your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, even pinching them, making you groan into his mouth. He swallowed every sound you made, and so did you.Â
You broke this kiss, running your nails down his chest, looking between your bodies. You needed him inside of you, and he wanted you to be around him. He wanted to feel all of you.Â
âCondom?â You breathed out, pulling back the hairs stuck to the sweat of your forehead.Â
âIn the drawer,â Miguel answered.
You climbed down his body, for a split second Miguel missed your warmth, but before he could complain about it, you were already back, motioning him to get more comfortable in the bed, before seating back in his legs. You opened the squared package, pulling the condom out.Â
You looked at it, and back at Miguel. âAre you really sure?â
Miguel nodded, the anticipation making his brain fuzzy. He didnât think he could speak right now.Â
You nodded, positioning yourself better. You stroke him a few times, before rolling the condom on. You lifted yourself up, using Miguelâs chest as support, while his arms flew to your waist to help you. You aligned his dick with your entrance. You were already wet from the anticipation and just making him come. He sounded so pretty, breaking under your touch. Cumming just for you, and only you.Â
You rubbed his tip along your slit, tapping your clit a few times, before aligned it with your hole. You breathed in, before sinking slowly. He stretched you out so perfectly, it stinged a little, but it felt so good.Â
Your mouth and Miguelâs fell open. It was so intense, finally being connected. You reached down, your hips flushed with his. Miguelâs nails were digging into your waist, while your hands squeezed his shoulders.Â
You got used to his size before starting to move slowly, rocking your hips back and forth. Miguel let out a shaky breath, watching your movements.Â
âTouch meâ you purred, leaning over and taking his ear lob between your teeth, your breath tickling the side of his face.Â
One of his hands stayed glued to your waist, while the other played with your breasts, alternating between the two. You nipped at his neck, leaving hickies and bite marks where no one could see them, only you.Â
Miguel whined, he was enjoying the feeling, but he needed more.Â
âPlease, moreâ He begged, his hand squeezing harshly on one of your tits.Â
You sat up straight, placing your hands flat on his chest for support. You lifted yourself up, leaving only half of his cock inside of you, before sinking back down. You both moaned at the same time, he felt so good inside of you.Â
You kept doing that a couple more times, while Miguel forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching how his dick disappeared inside of you. Once you got used to it, you set up a rhythm, using Miguelâs chest and shoulders as support. Miguelâs hands went back to your waist, while his head flew back. His mouth was slightly open, groans and moans feeling up the room, combined with the sound of skin slapping against skin.Â
Miguelâs sounds were turning you on so badly, you could barely concentrate. He grunted your name, moaned it so loudly you were sure even the neighbours could hear. You werenât any better. His dick was hitting just the right places, stretching you out just the way you liked it.Â
âFu-Fuckâ you stuttered, shutting your eyes. You were getting close, and so was Miguel, by the way his cock twitched inside of you.Â
âMigâ Iâm closeâ You cried out, the pace you had been setting faltering.Â
âMe tooâ he said, through gritted teeth.
His hips had begun to lift from the mattress, meeting yours halfway, helping you reach both your orgasms.Â
âMiggâ you whimpered, slumping forward.
Miguel opened his eyes slowly, as much as he could. Your nails were digging on his shoulders, while he had a death grip on your waist. One of his hands caressed your stomach, disappearing between your bodies, his thumb making contact with your clit. You jolted forward, the stimulation overwhelming you.Â
Miguel began drawing tight circles on the num, matching his and yours broken rhythm. He could feel you were closed, your pussy was squeezing his cock so good, getting him over the edge.Â
âBebaâ he mumbled, before throwing his head back and cumming inside of the condom, making you fall over the edge and come around him.
You collapsed on his chest, his thumb rubbing small figures still in your clit while you rock your hips in circles, coming down from your high.Â
You stilled your hips, while Miguel his hand from between you, placing it in your back and rubbing it up and down, with the little power he had left. You stayed silent for a couple minutes, recovering. Both of your bodies covered in sweat, and the both of you with smiles over your face.Â
You lifted your head slightly, placing your chin on his chest, looking at him. He looked so peaceful, breathing slowly from his nose, eyes closed. You pulled back a strand of hair stuck to his forehead, caressing his face with the back of your fingers. Miguel opened his eyes, his gaze falling on yours.Â
âHi!â You whispered, stroking his cheek.Â
âHiâ he smiled, eyes tired, blinking slowly, like a child almost falling asleep.
âI love you Migâ
âTe amo, mi vida, y siempre lo harĂ©â (I love you, my life, and Iâll always do)
Authors notes: AHHHH I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as the first one!!! Thanks for all the love đ„čâșïž
I'm a little anxious or nervous about this one because of all the lovey dovey stuff (mainly the smut) but anyway, I really like how it turned out and I hope you do too!!! I had so much fun with this one.
It turned out to be sooo long!! Funny that I cut the first one because I thought that 2k was A LOT, and this is 8k. Oh well.
I may edit this a little later, cause I don't really know how to feel about the smut. I honestly wanted it to be longer. But maybe I'll do another part, or a side story featuring what I wanted (Basically, Miguel eating you out). Anyway, let me know what you guys think!! Be truthful, don't hold back!! You can tell me: "Never write Smut again" And I'll allow it.
Practice makes perfect I suppose, so the more I write about sex the more I should improve, right? But, well. I think it is good to be the second time.
Tags: @guilty-pleasures21 @boogiemansbitch @amberbalcom14
#oharaslove#oharaslove requests#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel ohara#spiderman 2099#miguel o hara#miguel x reader#miguel x you#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x civilian reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara spiderman#spiderman 2099 spiderverse#spiderman 2099 smut#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel o'hara atsv#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o hara fanfic#miguel oâhara x y/n#miguel oâhara smut
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It came to me in a dream
#Star Trek#smiling friends#pip pirrup#charlie dompler#allan red#Spock#Jim Kirk#leonard mccoy#after a while it feels like too many tags#I also never said this wasnât a fever dream#Iâve been saying IVE BEEN SPRAYING HIM WITH DURT TY BROWN WATER
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In which Ford struggles so badly to relate to other people that he wonders if heâs really human at all. The more isolated he becomes, the harder it is to reconcile with his own humanity.
#my art#gravity falls#Stanford pines#ford pines#bill cipher#comic#eye strain#TIME TO DUMP EVERY ONE OF THE 27483949 THOUGHTS IVE HAD INTO THE TAGS BABY#OK!! SO!!!!#I feel like Ford would wonder why he and Stan (being identical twins) arenât. yk. identical. shouldnât Stan have polydactyly too?#as a kid he would dream about secretly being nonhuman and being whisked away to a fantastical world full of people like him#finally free of new jerseyâ finally somewhere he belongs#a lot of this disconnect from humanity came from utterly failing at social interactions while others (including stan) navigated them easily#the feeling waned after Stan was kicked out and he didn't have that direct comparison but it never left#then out in the wilderness of gravity fallsâ his isolation and immersion in Weirdness dragged it back up to the forefront#he deserves to have a breakdown over questioning his own nature. as a treat <3#color symbolism time bc I have a problem and use it at every available moment!!! blue and yellow get more vivid#the further from humanity the subject is#bill is entirely made w pure rgb blue and yellow (+ approximately 2674835 textures/layers/blending modes. I reached 150+ layers. help)#I like the idea that he would appear to ford like pure math considering hes a geometrical motherfucker and how the rest of the mindscape wa#I tried to mostly use trigonometry and related stuff for the Math Greebling. as well as fractals i love you forever fractals#MORE SYMBOLISM:#the grid-ish diamond pattern in all of the mindscape bgs (and elsewhere) is a penrose diagram of spacetime#which shows other universes on the other sides of black holes#SOMEONE ASK ME ABOUT MY EUCLYDIA HEADCANON LATER. IVE DUMPED ENOUGH DUMB HCS IN THESE TAGS ALREADY#BUT I THINK ITS VERY FUN#anyways. fuckt up guys n their egos influencing how they view humanity. bill tells ford hes as human as they come bc he was so easily foole#ford cant reconcile with his humanity bc of a failure to perform in one area#and then the immense guilt and shame over what hes done <3#I have So many ford characterization thoughts. no man nor god can stop me
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