#but also there's way too much colliding of worlds for me to ever watch that show

[schrodingers-hoarding-problem]

I may not watch any survival shows but I can't deny that they always have amazing osts

[simjaexy]

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 | 𝙔.𝙅.

Pairing ⇀ Patient! Yang Jungwon x Patient! (F) Reader

Synopsis ⇀ After a traumatic event leaves you struggling to cope, you get admitted to a mental hospital in hopes of finding peace and healing. Feeling lost and overwhelmed on your arrival, you meet Jungwon, a fellow patient with his own burdens and a mysterious past. Even though Jungwon is a bit hot headed and tend to come off as rude and smart to people, you find solace in Jungwon company. What happens when you and Jungwon go through struggles together? Will he open up to you to his mysterious past? Or will he shut himself out, just like he did with everyone else?

Genre ⇀ ANGST, Fluff (If you squint), Eventual Smut

Warning ⇀ Implied character deaths, Car accident, Family issues (Jungwon side), Crying, Smoking, Depression, Mis-Communication, Fighting (Reader gets hit once in one), Shots, Arguments, No comfort, Jungwon is mean to Reader a lot, Jungwon has anger issues, Dom! Jungwon x Sub! Reader, Making out, Eating out, Overstimulation, No protection, have a feeling I missed some so lmk!

W.c ⇀ 15.7k

A/n ⇀ Hey guys! Sorry for being inactive lately, studies have been coming at me left and right and I didn’t have time to make any fics. :( So why not make a depressing fic just because. 😼 Reminder everything in this fic is fake and not real! Sunghoon fic of Hidden Desires is almost done so please stay tune for that! I know a lot have been waiting for that so I apologize for the wait! Also, if you would like to be added to the perm taglist click here! Not proofread!

Masterlist here

You remember clearly how the snow flew ever so softly against the window. Your eyes full of innocence and curiosity. Your mom looked back and gave you a soft smile. You returned it as she looked away from you.

You continued watching the snow fall when all of a sudden you hear the sound of screeching tires and the crunch of metal against metal filled the air as the your car collided with another vehicle.

Time seemed to slow down, and in those agonizing moments, you could feel every jolt and impact. The world spun around you, and then, everything went black.

Months had passed since that fateful night, but the memory of the crash haunted you every waking moment. You sat in a dimly lit therapist's office, your hands trembling as you recounted the events leading up to the accident. Your therapist, Dr. Mitchell, listened intently, a look of concern etched on his face.

“I just can't get it out of my head," You said, your voice barely above a whisper, "Every time I close my eyes, I see it happening all over again."

Dr. Mitchell nodded sympathetically, "You've been through a traumatic experience, and it's completely understandable that you're struggling. But I think it's time we consider a different approach to your treatment."

You looked up, confusion and apprehension mingling in you eyes, "What do you mean?"

“I believe that a more intensive form of therapy might be beneficial for you," Dr. Mitchell explained gently, "There's a mental health facility that specializes in helping individuals who have experienced severe trauma. I think it could be a good fit for you."

Your heart raced at the thought of being admitted to a mental hospital. The idea was daunting, since you���ve never been to one before, but you knew that you couldn't go on living like this. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the constant anxiety—it was all too much to bear.

“Okay," You said finally, your voice steady despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "I'll do it."

The rain poured heavily as you stepped out of the car, your heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and uncertainty. The imposing building of the mental hospital loomed ahead, its grey facade blending with the stormy sky. You took a deep breath, clutching your bag tightly, and made your way to the entrance.

As you entered, the sterile smell of disinfectant filled the air. A kind-looking woman approached you, her smile warm yet professional.

"Welcome," She said softly. "I'm Dr. Kim, the head of this facility. I'll be escorting you to your room."

You nodded, feeling a slight sense of relief at her reassuring demeanor. She led you through the winding corridors, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the walls. The hospital seemed quiet, almost eerily so, with only the occasional murmur of voices or the distant sound of a door closing.

Just as you were beginning to feel a sense of calm, a commotion erupted from a nearby hallway. Raised voices and the sound of a struggle reached your ears. Dr. Kim's expression tightened, and she quickened her pace, urging you to follow closely.

As you turned the corner, you saw them – two boys in the midst of a heated fight.

One of them, with strikingly intense eyes and a determined expression, was on top of another boy. He was grappling the another boy, their movements a blur of fists and fury. The sight was shocking, a stark contrast to the otherwise serene environment.

“Jungwon, stop!" Dr. Kim's voice cut through the chaos, authoritative and firm. The boys hesitated, their breathing heavy, but the fight didn't completely cease.

You stood frozen, unsure of what to do. Jungwon's eyes flickered towards you for a brief moment, and something in his gaze made your heart ache. There was pain there, and anger, but also a flicker of something else – a plea for help, perhaps.

Dr. Kim stepped between them, her presence commanding, "This is not the place for this," She said sternly, "Both of you, to your rooms. Now."

Reluctantly, the boys separated, still glaring at each other. Jungwon's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he turned and walked away, his shoulders tense.

Dr. Kim sighed, turning back to you with an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry you had to witness that. Sometimes, emotions run high here. Let's continue to your room."

You nodded, still shaken by the encounter. As you followed Dr. Kim, you couldn't help but glance back towards the hallway where Jungwon had disappeared, a sense of unease settling in your chest. This place was supposed to be a sanctuary, a place of healing – but it seemed there were deeper wounds here than you had anticipated.

You followed Dr. Kim down the sterile, white-walled corridor of the mental hospital. The soft click of her heels echoed in the quiet hallway, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside your mind. She opened the door and stepped aside, allowing you to enter first.

“This will be your room for the duration of your stay,” She said softly, her voice filled with a calm reassurance, “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask the staff.”

You nodded, offering a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Dr. Kim.”

She gave you one last encouraging look before leaving, the door closing with a soft click behind her. You stood there for a moment, taking in the room. It was simple, yet comforting in its own way.

A single bed with crisp white sheets, a small wooden desk, and a chair. The window overlooked a garden, the trees swaying gently in the breeze.

You walked over to the bed and set down your suitcase. As you began to unpack, the memories of the crash started to flood back. You tried to push them away, focusing instead on the mundane task of organizing your belongings. But the images were relentless.

You could still hear the screeching of tires, the shattering of glass, and the deafening silence that followed. You remembered the fear, the panic, and the overwhelming sense of helplessness. Your hands trembled as you folded your clothes, the fabric slipping through your fingers.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You couldn’t let the memories consume you. Not now. Not when you were trying to heal. You placed your clothes in the small dresser, each movement deliberate and slow, as if grounding yourself in the present.

Once everything was unpacked, you sat on the edge of the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion. You lay down, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your skin. As you closed your eyes, the memories of the crash played out behind your eyelids like a haunting movie reel.

You remembered the faces of your parents, the ones who were no longer with you. The pain was sharp, cutting through the fog of your mind. You took another deep breath, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest. Slowly, the memories began to fade, replaced by the comforting rhythm of your breathing.

Sleep began to creep in, a gentle pull that you didn’t resist. As you drifted off, you silently promised yourself that you would get through this. One day at a time. You would find a way to heal, to move forward, even if it meant facing the painful memories head-on.

In the quiet of your room, you finally found a moment of peace. The world outside continued to turn, but for now, you allowed yourself to rest, finding solace in the promise of a new beginning.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains as you got ready for your first group therapy session. You were surprised when a nurse woke you up from your sleep already seeing it was the next day. You guessed the flashbacks really got to you.

The events of the previous day still lingered in your mind, especially the sight of Jungwon fighting in the hallway. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease. Today was a new day, and you were determined to make the most of it.

You left your room and made your way down the corridor, the soft hum of the hospital’s air conditioning filling the silence. As you walked past someone room, you heard raised voices. Curiosity got the better of you, and you slowed your pace, peeking inside.

Jungwon was there, his face flushed with anger as he argued with a nurse, "I told you, I don’t need any help!" he snapped, his voice sharp and filled with frustration. The nurse tried to calm him, but Jungwon’s agitation only seemed to grow.

Feeling a pang of sympathy and a bit of fear, you quickly walked away, not wanting to be seen. The intensity of his emotions was palpable, and it left you feeling unsettled.

You continued down the hallway and finally reached the room where the group therapy session was being held.

As you entered, you were greeted by a circle of chairs, each occupied by someone who, like you, was here to find a way through their struggles. The therapist, a gentle-looking woman named Dr. Lee, welcomed you with a warm smile, "Come in, take a seat," she said kindly.

You sat down, trying to focus on the session. The group began to share their stories, each person’s vulnerability and courage inspiring in its own way. But your mind kept drifting back to Jungwon, wondering what had pushed him to such anger.

During a break, you overheard two doctors talking near the doorway, "Did you hear about Jungwon?" one of them said. "He’s not going to be in the group sessions today."

“Again? Why?" the other doctor asked, sounding surprised.

“Apparently, his behavior has been too disruptive. They think it’s best that he stays in his room." the first doctor replied.

You felt a mix of emotions – relief that you wouldn’t have to witness another outburst, but also sadness for Jungwon. It was clear he was struggling deeply, and it pained you to think of him being isolated even further.

When the session resumed, you tried to focus on the stories being shared, drawing strength from the collective resilience of the group. But in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but hope that Jungwon would find the help he needed, even if it wasn’t here in the group.

As the session ended, you left the room feeling a bit lighter, the support of the group giving you a sense of hope. But as you walked back to your room, you couldn’t shake the image of Jungwon’s angry face, and you silently wished him strength and healing in whatever path lay ahead for him.

After spending the morning in your room after two group sessions, it was time for lunch. You made your way down the corridor, the scent of food growing stronger with each step. The cafeteria was bustling with patients and staff, the noise a stark contrast to the quiet of your room.

You grabbed a tray and moved through the line, picking out a sandwich, some fruit, and a drink. As you turned to find a place to sit, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. The room was filled with people, but you felt alone, unsure where you belonged.

You scanned the room, looking for an empty seat. Just as you were about to settle at an isolated table in the corner, a guy approached you. He had a sly grin on his face, his eyes glinting with something that made you uneasy.

“Hey there,” he said, stepping closer, “Why don’t you sit with me?”

You hesitated, clutching your tray a little tighter. Before you could respond, he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm. Your heart raced, a sense of panic rising within you.

Suddenly, another voice cut through the tension, “Leave her alone.”

You looked up to see Jungwon standing there, his expression firm and serious. The guy stepped back, his grin fading as he realized he was outmatched.

“Mind your own business,” the guy muttered, but he didn’t push further. With a final glare, he walked away, leaving you and Jungwon standing there.

You turned towards Jungwon, you opened your mouth, ready to say a thank you, but Jungwon cut you off.

Jungwon turned to you, his eyes cold, “Seriously, can’t you handle anything on your own? If it weren’t for me saying something that guy probably would’ve assaulted you.” He snapped, “It’s like you were looking for trouble.”

His words stung, and before you could respond, he walked away, leaving you standing there with your tray. You felt a mix of gratitude and hurt, unsure how to process his sudden change in demeanor.

You found an empty table and sat down, the weight of the interaction pressing on your mind. As you ate, you couldn’t help but replay the scene in your head, wondering why Jungwon had been so harsh after helping you.

By the time you returned to your room, the encounter with Jungwon still lingered in your thoughts. The small spark of hope you had felt earlier was dimmed, replaced by confusion and a hint of sadness. Maybe, just maybe, this place wasn’t as comforting as you had hoped.

The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the hospital grounds. After a long day of therapy sessions and group activities, you decided to take a walk in the garden. The fresh air and the gentle rustling of leaves always brought you a sense of calm, a brief escape from the sterile walls of the hospital.

As you wandered through the garden, you noticed a figure sitting on a bench tucked away in a quiet corner. It was Jungwon. He seemed at peace, his eyes closed and a faint thin line playing on his lips. You paused, not wanting to disturb his moment of tranquility. There was something captivating about the way he looked, so different from his usual guarded demeanor.

You stood there for a while, watching him from a distance. The way the soft light highlighted his features made him seem almost ethereal. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice when his eyes fluttered open and landed on you.

“What are you staring at?” Jungwon’s voice cut through the silence, harsh and unexpected.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden change in tone, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Didn’t mean to what?” He interrupted, standing up and closing the distance between you, “Spy on me? Invade my space?”

“No, I just...” You struggled to find the right words, confusion and hurt mixing in your chest, “I was just walking and saw you. I didn’t mean any harm.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrowed, his expression hard, “You think just because we’re in the same place, you have the right to watch me like some kind of freak show?”

His words stung, each one like a sharp jab to your heart, “I didn’t mean it like that,” you said softly, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

For a moment, Jungwon’s face softened, but then he turned away, his shoulders tense, “Just... stay away from me,” He muttered before walking off, leaving you standing there in the fading light.

You watched him go, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. The peaceful moment you had witnessed was now overshadowed by his harsh words. You couldn’t understand why he had lashed out at you, why he seemed so angry when all you had done was admire the serenity he had found.

As you continued your walk, the garden no longer felt like a sanctuary. The beauty of the flowers and the gentle breeze couldn’t chase away the confusion and sadness that Jungwon’s words had left behind. You wondered if you would ever understand him, if there was more to his anger than what he had shown.

The next morning, you wake up with a sense of dread lingering from the previous evening's encounter with Jungwon. After getting ready, you head to the group therapy session, hoping to find some solace among others who understand your struggles.

As you enter the room, your eyes surprisingly immediately land on Jungwon. He's sitting in one of the seats, his expression unreadable. You hesitate for a moment, considering whether to sit next to him or not. The memory of his harsh words still stings, so you decide to sit far away, choosing a seat on the opposite side of the room.

The session begins, and Dr. Lee starts by asking everyone to share their experiences. As the circle progresses, you feel a knot forming in your stomach. When it’s your turn, you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

“I’m here because of a car crash,” You begin, your voice trembling slightly, “It happened a few months ago. My parents... they didn’t make it. I was the only one who survived.”

The room is silent, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. You notice Jungwon watching you intently, his eyes softening as you continue.

“I’ve been struggling with survivor’s guilt,” You admit, tears welling up in your eyes, “Every day feels like a battle, and sometimes I don’t know how to keep going.”

Dr. Lee nods empathetically, offering you a comforting smile, “Thank you for sharing that. It takes a lot of courage to open up about such a painful experience.”

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability. As the therapist moves on to Jungwon, you can’t help but glance in his direction. He’s staring at the floor, his hands clenched into fists.

“Jungwon, would you like to share why you’re here?” Dr. Lee asks gently.

For a moment, there’s only silence. Jungwon’s jaw tightens, and he shakes his head, “I don’t want to talk about it,” He mutters, his voice barely audible.

Dr. Lee respects his choice and moves on to the next person, but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to Jungwon’s story than he’s letting on. Throughout the session, you catch him glancing at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and something else you can’t quite place.

As the session comes to an end, you gather your things and head for the door. To your surprise, Jungwon approaches you, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen it.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says quietly, avoiding your gaze, “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just... I have my own issues, and sometimes it’s hard to control my anger.”

You nod, appreciating his apology, “It’s okay. We’re all dealing with something here.”

Jungwon finally meets your eyes, and for the first time, you see a glimmer of vulnerability. But then it goes away just as fast and he walks away, leaving you alone in the room.

After the therapy session, you head back to your room, feeling a mixture of relief and exhaustion. The weight of sharing your story and hearing others' experiences has left you emotionally drained. As you settle into your bed, there's a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," You say, your voice barely above a whisper.

The door opens, and the nurse from the day before steps in. You recognize her immediately as the one who had the confrontation with Jungwon. She smiles warmly at you, carrying a tray with some medication and a glass of water.

"How are you feeling today?" She asks, placing the tray on your bedside table.

"I'm okay," You reply, though your mind is buzzing with questions about Jungwon. You hesitate for a moment before deciding to ask, "Um, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," She says, her expression kind and patient.

"The day before yesterday, I saw you with Jungwon. He seemed really upset. Do you know what happened to him?" You ask, hoping for some insight into the boy who has been occupying your thoughts.

The nurse's smile falters slightly, and she shakes her head, "I'm sorry, but I can't discuss another patient's history or personal information."

You nod, understanding the need for confidentiality, but you can't help feeling a bit disappointed. The nurse notices your expression and seems to soften.

"Jungwon has been through a lot," She says carefully, choosing her words with caution, "Sometimes, people have experiences that are difficult to talk about, and it affects how they interact with others."

Her words linger in the air, and you sense there's more to Jungwon's story than she's letting on. The nurse gives you a knowing look, almost as if she's trying to convey something without breaking any rules.

"Just remember," She continues, "everyone here has their own battles. Some are just more visible than others."

You nod again, feeling a bit more at ease. The nurse's words, though vague, give you a glimpse into the pain Jungwon might be hiding. She hands you the medication and waits while you take it, then collects the empty glass.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call," She says before leaving the room.

As the door closes behind her, you lie back on your bed, your mind racing with thoughts about Jungwon. You can't shake the feeling that there's something significant in his past that has shaped him into who he is now.

The sun was slowly setting indicating it was almost time for bed. You let out a yawn and rolled on your side. Your hoping tomorrow will be a more peaceful day.

The morning light filters through the thin curtains of your hospital room, gently waking you from a restless sleep. You stretch and decide that today, you'll make an effort to eat breakfast. It's been days since you arrived, and the thought of food hasn't crossed your mind much, but you know you need to take care of yourself.

You slip into a pair of slippers and make your way to the cafeteria. The smell of pancakes and coffee fills the air, and your stomach growls in response. You grab a tray and select a modest breakfast: some scrambled eggs, toast, and a small bowl of fruit. Scanning the room, you notice most of the tables are occupied by small groups or pairs, deep in conversation.

Finding an empty table near the window, you start to head that way when a voice calls out to you, "Hey, are you new here? Wanna sit with me?"

You turn to see a girl around your age, with bright eyes and a friendly smile. Grateful for the company, you nod and make your way over to her table, "Sure, thanks," you say, setting your tray down and taking a seat.

"I'm Mia," she introduces herself, extending a hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mia. I'm Y/n." You reply, shaking her hand.

As you start eating, Mia glances at you with curiosity, "I heard you talking about a crash in the group session yesterday. That must have been really tough."

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat, "Yeah, it was. It's been hard to process everything."

Mia gives you a sympathetic look, "I can't imagine what you're going through. But talking about it is a good step. It helps to share, even if it's painful."

You appreciate her understanding and openness. As you continue your conversation, you notice Jungwon entering the cafeteria.

He looks tired, his hair slightly disheveled, and yet he still looks handsome. There's a quiet determination in his eyes as he grabs a tray and starts selecting his breakfast.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you turn to Mia, "Do you know anything about Jungwon?" You ask, keeping your voice low.

Mia's expression shifts slightly, and she nods, "Yeah, I do. Jungwon's story is pretty intense. He doesn't talk about it much, but word gets around in a place like this."

She pauses, gathering her thoughts before continuing, "Jungwon had a rough childhood. His parents weren't around much, and he had to fend for himself a lot. There was an incident a few years ago that really changed him. He lost someone very close to him in a tragic accident. It left him with a lot of guilt and anger, and he's been struggling to cope ever since."

You listen intently, feeling a pang of empathy for Jungwon, "That sounds really hard," you say softly.

Mia nods, "It is. But he's strong, even if he doesn't always show it. He's been trying to work through his pain, just like the rest of us. Maybe one day, he'll open up more."

As Jungwon walks back towards his room with a tray, you can't help but feel a deeper connection to him. You understand now that his silence and his struggles are rooted in a past filled with pain.

As much as you wanna know more, you think focusing on building connections with the people around you first, starting with Mia. The road to healing is gonna be long, but with a friend by your side, it feels a little less daunting.

The room was filled with a mix of nervous energy and cautious optimism as the group gathered for their weekly session. Today’s topic was coping mechanisms, a crucial skill for everyone present.

The facilitator began the session by guiding the group through various techniques, from breathing exercises to journaling, aiming to equip them with tools to manage their emotions.

As the session progressed, the atmosphere lightened, and soon it was time for a break. You decided to grab a cup of coffee from the corner of the room with Mia. While you were pouring yourself a drink, you overheard two guys whispering near the window. Their voices were low, but the disdain in their tone was unmistakable.

“Did you hear what Jungwon did a few days ago? Always trying to start stuff," one of them sneered.

“Yeah, always trying to act like he's better than everyone else. It's pathetic," the other one added, chuckling.

You glanced over and noticed Jungwon standing nearby, his face paling as he caught every word. His fists clenched at his sides, and you could see the anger building in his eyes. Before you could intervene, Jungwon stormed over to the two guys.

"Say that to my face!" Jungwon shouted, his voice trembling with rage.

The room fell silent as everyone turned to watch the confrontation. The two guys smirked, clearly enjoying the reaction they had provoked. One of them stepped forward, ready to escalate the situation.

"You heard us. You're nothing but a—"

Before he could finish, Jungwon threw a punch, and chaos erupted. The facilitator and nurses rushed over, trying to separate them.

Amos tried grabbing you as you quickly moved to help, “Y/n no!” You heard Mia yell.

You grabbed Jungwon's arm in an attempt to pull him back. In the confusion, Jungwon swung his arm wildly, accidentally hitting you in the face.

Pain shot through your cheek, and you stumbled back, clutching your face. The room was a blur of shouting and movement as the nurses finally managed to pull Jungwon away, restraining him.

"Are you okay?" one of the nurses asked, her eyes wide with concern as she helped you to a chair. Mia quickly went by your side holding you up.

You nodded, still dazed from the impact. "I'm fine," you muttered, though your cheek throbbed painfully.

As Jungwon's anger flared, he didn't even notice that he had accidentally hit you. His focus remained solely on yelling at the guys, his voice echoing through the room.

The nurses quickly realized that the situation was spiraling out of control. Despite his protests, they managed to escort him out, hoping that some fresh air would help him cool down.

Mia sobbed, her worry not fading watching you hold your cheek, "Let's get you back to your room so they can patch you up properly."

You both made your way to your room, where the nurse was waiting with a first aid kit. The nurse looked up as they entered and gave the reader a grateful smile, “Thank you for stepping in earlier. It was very brave of you, but also quite dangerous."

You winced slightly as the nurse began to clean the cut on her cheek, "I know. I just couldn't stand by and do nothing."

The nurse nodded, her expression thoughtful, "What surprised me was how Jungwon seemed to calm down for a quick second when you touched him. It was like he recognized you and it brought him back to reality, even if just for a moment."

You thought back to the incident, remembering the brief flicker of recognition in Jungwon's eyes, "Yeah, I noticed that too. Maybe there's still a part of him that knows we're here to help."

The nurse finished applying a bandage to your cheek and gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder, "Let's hope so. Just be careful next time, alright?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and determination, "I will. Thanks for helping me out."

Mia gave the reader a gentle hug, "We'll get through this together. Just take it easy for now, okay?"

You smiled, grateful for her friend's support, "Okay, Mia. Thanks for being here."

She gave you a bright smile before exiting the room with the nurse. You let out a pained sigh and lay on your bed. You decided to just skip lunch and your group sessions for the rest of day by sleeping.

You weren’t sure what time it was given how it was pitch dark out when you were jolted awake by a sudden, insistent knocking on your door. Groggy and disoriented, you stumbled out of bed and made your way to the door, wondering who could be visiting at such an odd hour.

As you opened it, you were surprised to see Jungwon standing there, his expression a mix of frustration and something else she couldn't quite place.

"Jungwon? What are you doing here?" You asked, your voice still heavy with sleep.

He didn't waste any time, "Why did you step in earlier?" He demanded, his tone sharp.

You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts, "I wanted to help. I didn't want you to get into trouble."

Jungwon sighed, running a hand through his hair, "You can't do that again. When I get angry, I can't stop until I see the person on the ground, not breathing. Do you understand?"

A chill ran down your spine at his words. You could see the seriousness in his eyes, and it scared you, "What do they do to you, Jungwon?" You asked quietly, needing to understand what was happening to him.

He looked away, his jaw tightening, "They gave me a shot to make me fall asleep. It's the only way they can control me when I get like that."

Your heart ached for him. Your reached out and gently touched his arm, trying to offer some comfort, "I'm sorry you have to go through that. But you have to know that I'm here for you, even if it's dangerous."

Jungwon looked back at you, his eyes softening for a moment. But when he noticed your arm on him, he quickly retreated back, “Don’t step in like that again."

You nodded, understanding the gravity of his request. "I promise. But please, if there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

He scoffed, “I stopped asking for help a long time ago.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he turned away and left, leaving you alone once again. You quietly shut your door and head back to your bed. You fell asleep hoping that Jungwon will open up soon, even if it meant going out of boundaries.

The morning sun was setting through the window of your room where Mia and you sat on your bed, cards spread out between them. Mia was patiently teaching you a new card game, her voice calm and encouraging.

"Okay, so you want to match the suits, like this," Mia explained, demonstrating with a couple of cards. You nodded, trying to follow along, when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," You called out, glancing up from the cards. A nurse poked her head in and smiled.

"You have a visitor," The nurse said.

You frowned in confusion, "A visitor? Who could it be?"

The nurse stepped aside, and in walked your aunt, her face lighting up with a mix of relief and concern as she saw her niece, “Auntie!" You exclaimed, standing up quickly and moving to embrace her.

"How did you know I was here?" You asked, pulling back slightly to look at your aunt.

Your aunt sighed, brushing a strand of hair from the reader's face, "Your therapist told me. I was so worried when I heard."

As you both stood there, your aunt's eyes fell on the patch on your cheek. Her expression shifted to one of worry, "What happened to your face, sweetheart?"

You touched the patch self-consciously and gave a small, reassuring smile, “It's nothing serious, Auntie. Just a little accident. I'm doing fine, really."

Mia, sensing the need for some privacy, began to gather up the cards, "I'll give you two some time to catch up," She said kindly, offering you a supportive smile before slipping out of the room.

Your aunt guided you back to the bed, sitting down beside her, “Tell me how you're really doing," She insisted gently.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It's been tough, but I'm managing. The doctors and nurses here are great, and Mia's been a big help. I'm working through things with my therapist, and I feel like I'm making progress."

Your aunt nodded, her eyes filled with empathy, "I'm glad to hear that. It's important to take things one day at a time. Just know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

You felt a wave of gratitude and relief wash over her, “Thank you, Auntie. That means a lot."

You both spent the next hour talking, catching up on family news and sharing memories. Your aunt's presence was a comforting reminder of home and the support system waiting for you outside the hospital walls.

As you talked, you felt a renewed sense of hope and determination to keep pushing forward on your journey to recovery.

After spending a comforting hour with your aunt, you felt a sense of warmth and reassurance. You both shared a heartfelt hug, and you walked your aunt to the door of the hospital room.

"Thank you for coming, Auntie. It really means a lot to me," You said, your voice filled with gratitude.

"Anytime, sweetheart. Remember, I'm just a phone call away," Your aunt replied, giving one last squeeze before heading down the hallway.

You watched your aunt leave before turning back to her room. You hesitated for a moment, then decided to go find Mia. You wanted to invite Mia back to your room to continue their card game, hoping it would help distract you from the day's emotions.

As you approached Mia's room, the reader heard voices inside. You paused at the slightly ajar door and peeked in, your curiosity piqued. Mia was sitting on the edge of her bed, and Jungwon was standing in front of her, his expression tense.

"When are you going to tell her, Jungwon?" Mia asked, her voice filled with concern.

Jungwon's face hardened, and he responded harshly, "That's none of your business, Mia. Stay out of it."

Your heart sank as you watched the exchange. You noticed Jungwon turning to the door and quickly hid behind a chair. After he stormed out the room, walking the opposite direction you stood up, but only to be met face to face with Mia.

Mia looked up and saw you standing there, her eyes widening in surprise, “Oh, hey," She said, trying to mask her anxiety with a forced smile, "I didn't see you there."

You stepped in front of her, your mind racing with questions, "I was just coming to ask if you wanted to come back to my room," You said slowly, eyes flickering to the door where Jungwon had just exited.

Mia stood up, her expression softening, "Of course, I'd love to. I'm sorry about that... you know, what you just saw. It's... complicated."

You nodded, sensing Mia's reluctance to explain further, "It's okay," You said, though your mind was far from at ease, "Let's just go back and finish our game."

Mia followed you back to your room, the tension from the previous conversation still lingering in the air. You both sat down on your bed, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something important was being kept from you. You glanced at Mia, who was shuffling the cards with a focused expression, and decided not to press the issue for now.

As you both resumed the game, you tried to push the unsettling encounter out of your mind. But the questions remained, nagging at the back of your thoughts. What was Jungwon supposed to tell that person? And why was Mia so concerned? The answers would have to wait, but you knew you couldn't ignore them forever.

After a fun and intense game of cards, you and Mia share a laugh together as you kept messing up. The room is filled with warmth and the faint smell of antiseptic, but the laughter makes it feel almost like home.

You stand up, stretching slightly before announcing, "I'm going to use the restroom, I'll be right back."

As you walk down the dimly lit hospital corridor, the sound of your footsteps echoes softly. Turning a corner, you notice a faint haze and the unmistakable scent of cigarette smoke.

Curiosity piqued, you peek around the corner and see a group of guys huddled together, smoking. Their faces are shadowed, and their laughter is low and menacing.

Your heart races as they try to quietly walk away, hoping to avoid any confrontation. But before you can escape, one of the guys notices and calls out, "Hey, where do you think you're going?" You freeze, feeling a knot of fear tighten in your stomach.

"Come here," Another guy demands, his voice rough. You hesitate but steps closer, trying to stay calm, "If you don’t tell anyone, we’ll let you have a hit." One of them says, holding out a cigarette. You shake your head, backing away slightly.

"No, thanks, we’re not supposed to be smoking anyways." You reply, trying to keep your voice steady. But the group steps closer, surrounding you. Your mind flashes back to what Jungwon had said earlier about being weak. Determined to prove him wrong, you tried to push past them, but one of the guys grabs your arm.

"What's the matter? Scared?" He taunts. Your pulse quickens, and you yank your arm free, shoving the guy away. Anger flares in his eyes, and the group tightens their circle.

"Leave me alone," You say firmly, but your voice wavers. The guys laugh mockingly, and one of them steps forward, pushing you against the wall.

"You're not going anywhere," He sneers. You struggles, trying to fight them off, but your outnumbered. The group grows more aggressive, their grip tightening.

Just as things seem dire, a loud voice echoes down the hallway, "Hey! What’s going on here?" You look up, hope sparking in your eyes. A nurse rounds the corner, her expression stern and authoritative. The group hesitates, then reluctantly backs off, muttering under their breaths as they disperse.

The nurse rushes to your side, helping you stand, "Are you okay?" She asks, concern evident in her voice. You nod, still shaken but relieved.

"Yeah, I think so," You reply, your voice trembling slightly. The nurse escorts you back to your room, as you were reaching your room, you glanced back over your shoulder.

That's when you saw him—Jungwon. He stood at the edge of the hall, his expression serious and intense. He had been watching the entire scene unfold, his eyes never leaving you.

The nurse led you inside your room. You collapse into a chair, trying to steady your breathing, but your mind was also elsewhere. You couldn't shake the image of Jungwon standing there, watching you with such intensity. What had he been thinking? Why hadn't he stepped in to help when he saw you having trouble?

Mia goes up to you, worry etched on her face, "What happened?" She asks. You takes a deep breath, recounting the encounter briefly. Mia listens, her expression shifting from concern to anger.

"Those guys are the real weak ones," She says firmly, “You stood up to them, and that's what matters." You nod, feeling a sense of pride and relief wash over you.

When the nurse finally leaves, you found yourself drawn to the door, your gaze searching for Jungwon. He was still there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Your eyes met, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Finally, Jungwon pushed off the wall and walked the opposite way, leaving you confused and upset. Mia voice slowly disappeared as you continued staring at the door.

The night was thick with silence, the kind that made every creak and whisper seem amplified. You tossed and turned in your bed, unable to find any semblance of sleep. Frustration gnawed at you, and you finally decided that a walk might help clear your mind. Slipping out of bed, you padded quietly down the sterile hallways and out into the hospital garden.

The garden was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, casting long shadows that danced with the gentle breeze. As you wandered aimlessly, you spotted a familiar figure seated at a bench—Jungwon. He was in the same spot you had seen him before, his posture rigid, his gaze distant. You felt a pang of something you couldn't quite name and decided to turn away.

But before you could take another step, his voice cut through the stillness, "Stop," He commanded, his tone cold and unyielding. You froze, your heart pounding, "Sit with me," He added, though it was less of a request and more of an order.

You hesitated, your pride and fear warring within you, "No, I don't think I should," You replied softly, trying to muster the courage to walk away.

Jungwon's expression darkened, and he stood up, closing the distance between them in a few quick strides, "I said, sit with me," He repeated, his voice harsh and leaving no room for argument.

Swallowing your apprehension, you nodded and followed him back to the bench. You both sat in silence for a few moments, the tension between you guys palpable.

Gradually, the stillness of the night began to soothe your nerves, and you found yourself gazing up at the stars. They seemed to twinkle with a kind of serene indifference, a stark contrast to the turmoil in your heart.

Jungwon finally broke the silence, "You were brave," He said, his voice softer now but still carrying that edge of seriousness, "What you did with those guys... it took guts."

You glanced at him, surprised by the unexpected compliment, "I just didn't want to be seen as weak," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to look at you, his boba eyes reflecting the starlight, "Bravery isn't about never being scared. It's about facing your fears, even when you're terrified," He said quietly. "You did that. Although I think I’m the cause to why you acted like that."

His words hung in the air between them, and you felt a mix of emotions—gratitude, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite place. You both sat there for a while longer, simply admiring the stars. The silence between you guys was no longer tense but filled with an unspoken understanding. As the night wore on, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

When you both finally stood to leave, Jungwon's serious demeanor softened just a bit, "Next time you can't sleep, come find me," He said. "We can admire the stars together."

Your eyes widened before a soft smile rose on your lips, feeling a warmth spread through your chest, "I will," You promised. And as you walked back to your room, you felt a sense of peace you hadn't known you needed.

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, gently waking you from a restless sleep. You rubbed your eyes and stretched, knowing today was the group therapy session.

You got ready, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. The sessions lately have been going good with Mia by your side. You felt grateful with her, but today felt different.

As you walked into the room, you noticed Jungwon sitting alone, his usual cold and serious demeanor even more pronounced.

You took a deep breath and decided to sit next to him. He gave you a brief glance but didn’t object, which you took as a good sign.

The session began, and everyone shared their updates. You could feel the tension in the room when it was Jungwon’s turn. He had never opened up before, always keeping his emotions tightly locked away.

To everyone’s surprise, Jungwon started to speak. His voice was low and controlled as he began, "My parents… they never really cared for me. It was always about what I could do for them, not about who I was or how I felt."

The room fell silent, everyone hanging on his every word. He didn’t go into much detail, but the mere fact that he was sharing was a huge step. When he finished, he simply looked down, not saying anything more.

You felt a surge of pride for him. Jungwon had taken a significant step by opening up, even if it was brief. The group might have been shocked, but you understood the courage it took for him to speak up.

Dr. Lee immediately spoke, “T-Thats amazing that you shared Jungwon. I’m glad you did.” Jungwon didn’t say anything.

As the session ended, you gave him a small, encouraging smile, hoping it conveyed your support. He didn’t give a smile back and simply got up and left. Mia stood next to you, “I can’t believe he actually said something.”

You gave her a small chuckle, “Me too. It’s a big step.” You murmured. Mia nodded her head. You both headed to lunch with. few other people.

As you and Mia joked around, ready to head to the cafeteria, Dr. Kim's voice halted you in your tracks, "Can I speak with you for a moment?" She asked, her tone serious. You turned to see her standing in the doorway of her office, her expression unreadable.

"Sure, Dr. Kim," you replied, you looked at Mia who gave you an understanding nod, and you following her into the room. She closed the door behind you and gestured for you to sit. You took a seat, feeling a knot of anxiety form in your stomach.

"I saw you in the garden last night," Dr. Kim began, her eyes locking onto yours, "With Jungwon."

Your heart skipped a beat. You and Jungwon had thought you were alone, away from prying eyes, "I... we were just talking," You stammered, unsure of what to say.

Dr. Kim nodded, her expression softening slightly, "I understand that you're trying to help him. And I commend you for that. Jungwon is a difficult person to reach, and it seems you've managed to get through to him in a way that no one else has."

You felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe she was going to support your friendship with Jungwon. But then her expression turned serious again, "However, I need to warn you. Jungwon is a troubled person. He has a lot of issues that he's dealing with, and I'm concerned about the impact it could have on you."

You opened your mouth to protest, but she held up a hand to stop you, "I know you care about him. But you need to think about your own well-being too. It's not your responsibility to fix him. He needs professional help, and while your support is valuable, it can't replace that."

Her words stung, but you knew she was right. Jungwon had been through a lot, and his cold, hard exterior was a defense mechanism he had built to protect himself.

You had seen glimpses of the real Jungwon, the one who was vulnerable and hurting, but you also knew that he had a long road ahead of him.

"I just want you to be careful," Dr. Kim continued, "You have a big heart, and it's admirable that you want to help. But don't lose yourself in the process."

You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions. You cared about Jungwon deeply, but you also understood the risks involved, "I understand, Dr. Kim. I'll be careful."

She gave you a small smile, her eyes filled with empathy, "That's all I ask. Now, go and enjoy your lunch. And remember, I'm here if you need to talk."

You left her office, your mind racing with thoughts. You knew you couldn't abandon Jungwon, but you also had to take care of yourself. It was a delicate balance, one that you would have to navigate carefully.

As you walked to the cafeteria, you resolved to be there for Jungwon, but also to heed Dr. Kim's advice. You would find a way to support him without losing yourself in the process.

Once you came to the cafeteria, you sat down in front of Mia. Mia looked up from her book, immediately noticing the troubled expression on your face.

"What's wrong?" She asked, concern evident in her voice.

You sighed and sat down on your bed, running a hand through your hair, "Dr. Kim told me to stay away from Jungwon," You admitted, feeling a lump form in your throat, "She said he's too troubled and that I need to think about my own well-being."

Mia's eyes widened slightly, and she put her book aside, "She told me the same thing," Mia confessed, her voice soft, "And back then, I actually did stay away from him."

You looked at her, surprised, "How long have you known Jungwon?"

Mia sighed, leaning back against the headboard, "Jungwon was in the hospital longer than I was," She explained, "But I only knew him because my guy friend used to be friends with him before he got discharged. After my friend left, I stopped talking to Jungwon."

You felt a pang of sympathy for Jungwon, realizing how many people had distanced themselves from him, "Why did you stop talking to him?"

Mia shrugged, a sad smile on her face, "It was easier that way. Jungwon's issues were too much for me to handle, and I had to focus on my own recovery. But I always felt guilty about it. I did promise my guy friend that I’d stay by Jungwon side for him."

You nodded, understanding her perspective, "I don't want to abandon him," You said softly, "But I also don't want to lose myself in the process."

Mia reached out and squeezed your hand, "It's a tough situation," She said gently, "But you have to find a balance. You can support him, but you also need to take care of yourself. Don't let his problems consume you."

You took a deep breath, feeling a bit more grounded, "Thanks, Mia. I needed to hear that."

She smiled, her eyes filled with empathy, "Anytime. Just remember, you're not alone in this. We're all here for you."

You walked into the second group session, scanning the room for familiar faces. But one face was missing – Jungwon. You assumed he had already spoken and decided not to stick around. The session went on, but your mind kept drifting back to him, wondering what he was up to.

Once the session ended, you made your way back to your room. As you passed Dr. Kim's office, you were startled by the sound of yelling. You peered inside and saw Jungwon, his face contorted with rage, shouting at Dr. Kim.

"How could you do this to me?" He screamed, his voice filled with anger and hurt. He slammed his fist on her desk, sending papers flying. Dr. Kim tried to calm him down, but he was beyond reason.

Your heart pounded as you watched in shock. Jungwon's outburst escalated, and he started throwing things off the shelves, his fury uncontrollable. Nurses and doctors rushed in, trying to restrain him.

"No! Let me go!" Jungwon yelled, struggling against their grip.

You couldn't just stand there, "Don't give him a shot!" You shouted, running towards them, "Please, just let him calm down on his own."

The medical staff hesitated, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Dr. Kim looked at you, her expression a mix of concern and frustration, "We're trying to help him," She said firmly.

"I know," You replied, your voice trembling, "But sedating him won't solve anything. He needs to feel like he has some control."

Slowly, Jungwon's resistance weakened, and he slumped in the doctors' hold, exhausted from his outburst. They guided him back to his room, and you followed closely behind, making sure they didn't administer any medication.

As you reached his room, you stepped inside, and the staff left, giving you a moment alone with him. Jungwon sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, breathing heavily.

"Hey," You said softly, sitting down next to him, "Are you okay?"

He looked up at you, his eyes red and filled with a mix of anger and sadness, "I don't know," He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, "Everything just feels so messed up."

You placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "It's okay to feel that way," You said gently, “But you don't have to go through it alone. We're all here to help you, even if it doesn't always feel that way."

Jungwon nodded slowly, absorbing your words. It was silent for a few seconds before he slowly shrugged you off. Not again. "Thanks," He muttered, "I just... I don't know how to deal with all of this."

"We'll figure it out together," You promised. "One step at a time."

For the first time since you entered the room, you saw a flicker of hope in Jungwon's eyes. It was a small step, but it was a step in the right direction. And as you sat there with him, you knew you would do everything in your power to help him find his way.

You waited patiently for a few seconds before you decided to ask him a question, “Jungwon, what was Dr. Kim saying to you?” You questioned. It was silent for a while.

You felt like you stepped out of line and tried to cover it up, but Jungwon spoke before you did, “She was saying that… that my sister was gonna see me today, but she told her that I wasn’t in right mind to be visisted.” He whispered.

You were lost in thought. Jungwon's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features, "I don't know," He muttered, looking away, "I just... don't."

"That doesn't make sense," you pressed gently, "Why would she say that to her? I haven’t really known you for a long time, but I know you’d never do something stupid to your sister."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "It's complicated," He said, his voice softer now, "I have... issues."

You took a step closer, your heart aching for him, "Jungwon, what kind of issues?"

Jungwon hesitated, his eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "Anger issues. People don't want to be near me because of it."

You felt a pang of sadness, "Is that why you were upset? Because you think your sister wouldn't want to be near you?"

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor, "Yeah. I guess... I just assumed she’d be like everyone else."

“Jungwon," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I'm not like everyone else. I want to understand you, to help you if I can. And I know your sister would too.”

He looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of uncertainty, "Why would you want to do that?"

"Because I care about you," you replied honestly, "Everyone has their struggles, and it doesn't make them any less worthy of friendship or support."

For a moment, Jungwon seemed to struggle with his emotions. Then, slowly, he began to open up, "I've always had a hard time controlling my anger," He admitted, "It scares people away. They think I'm dangerous, that I'll hurt them."

"But that's not who you are," You said firmly, "You're more than your anger. And I'm willing to stand by you, if you'll let me."

Jungwon stared at you for a hot second before staring down on the ground. You can tell he was fighting some dry comment, "Thank you," He whispered, "I don't know if I deserve it, but... thank you."

You smiled, feeling a sense of relief and hope? "We'll figure it out together," you promised.

As you both sat there, but being able to move, you knew this was a big step for Jungwon to opening up to you. You hoped you helped in some way about being comfortable.

"Jungwon, can I ask you another question?" You asked gently.

He looked at you, you noticed his eyes shifted from soft to hard and guarded, "What is it?”

"I want to understand you better," You said, "I want to know why you always seem so angry." If you were going to help him, you’d have to know why he always felt angry and out of place.

Jungwon sighed, running a hand through his hair, "It's complicated," He muttered, looking away.

"Try me," You encouraged, "I'm here to listen."

He hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke, his voice low and filled with pain, "I’m not really sure why I have it, but my parents never paid much attention to me," He began, "They were always too busy with their own lives. The only person who ever really cared about me was my older sister. She promised she'd always be there for me, but when she went to college, she never contacted me again. No calls, no visits. Nothing."

You felt your heart ache for him, "That must have been really hard."

"It was," Jungwon admitted, "But it got worse. I had a best friend, Sunoo. He was the only one who understood me, who made me feel like I wasn't alone. But then he passed away. It felt like the universe was against me, like everyone I cared about would eventually leave me."

You saw his eyes turning glossy, but then he blinked and harshly wiped them away, "I'm so sorry, Jungwon," You whispered, "That must have been unbearable."

He nodded, “That's why I never got close to people. I pushed everyone away, even Mia and our other friend. Because at the end of the day, they left me too. I couldn't bear the thought of getting close to someone else, only to lose them."

You reached out and gently took his hand, "You're not alone anymore, Jungwon. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere.”

“How do I know if I can trust you?” He whispered. You immediately fought the urge to hug him. Like you said before, you aren’t really that close. But he was willing to open up to you. So you’ll leave at that for now.

“Because I’m not willing to leave anytime soon until you’re better.” You spoke, your face serious.

Jungwon didn’t say anything, instead he looked out his window. You knew you didn’t need another reason to stay any longer, so you stood up from his bed and headed towards the door.

“Please let me know if you need anything Jungwon.” You said. Jungwon didn’t look at you. You let out a quiet sigh before shutting his door with a click.

The day had been long, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, the hospital began to quiet down. You had just finished your last group session for the day and decided to take a moment for yourself. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you were headed back to your room when you overheard a conversation that stopped you in your tracks.

Two nurses were talking in hushed tones near the nurses' station, "I heard Dr. Kim is planning to transfer Jungwon to another hospital," One of them said, her voice tinged with concern, "He's been so angry and upset lately. They think a change of environment might help."

Your heart skipped a beat. Jungwon was going to be sent away? You couldn't believe it. After you finally got to know more about him, he’s being sent away?

Without thinking, you made your way to Jungwon's room. The hallway seemed longer than usual, your footsteps echoing in the silence. When you reached his door, you hesitated for a moment, gathering your thoughts. Then, summoning your courage, you knocked softly.

A few moments later, the door opened, and there stood Jungwon, his expression as unreadable, "What is it?" He asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, "I just overheard the nurses talking. They said Dr. Kim is planning to transfer you to another hospital."

Jungwon's face remained impassive, showing no sign of surprise or concern. "I knew she was gonna do something," He replied simply, his tone flat.

You felt a wave of frustration and sadness wash over you. How could he be so indifferent? "Aren't you worried? Don't you care?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Jungwon's eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something—an emotion, perhaps—before it disappeared, "It's not my decision to make," He said quietly, "If she think it's best for me, then so be it."

You stood there, searching for the right words, "I just... I don't want you to go," You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, "I feel like I’ve known you too late, I still want to help you.”

Jungwon's gaze softened ever so slightly, but he remained silent. After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, "Thank you," He said, his voice almost gentle, "But I guess Kim was right, it's easier to keep people at a distance."

You suddenly felt anger. Why does he listen to her? “Jungwon, what Dr. Kim says to you isn’t true. I don’t know why she treats you so horrible, but it’s not right!”

The air in the room was thick with tension after you finished. The words hung in the air, heavy and significant, but Jungwon's face remained impassive, showing no trace of emotion. You could feel your frustration building, a knot tightening in your chest. How could he just stand there, so unresponsive, when everything was falling apart around you?

"Jungwon," you began, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation, “Did you even hear what Dr. Kim said? Do you even care?"

Jungwon remained silent, his eyes fixed on a spot somewhere beyond you. It was as if he was in another world, completely detached from the reality of the situation. The silence stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your nails digging into your palms.

“Say something, Jungwon!" You finally shouted, unable to hold back any longer, "Anything! Just let me know that you're feeling the same way I’m feeling!"

Before you could utter another word, Jungwon moved. In an instant, he was in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face. His eyes, which had seemed so distant moments ago, were now filled with an intensity that took your breath away. And then, without warning, he kissed you.

The kiss was soft yet urgent, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness. It was as if he was pouring all the emotions he couldn't express into that single, tender moment. Your anger and frustration melted away, replaced by a flood of warmth and love. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, you could see the unspoken apology in his eyes.

“I'm sorry," He whispered, his voice barely audible, "I just... I don’t know how to handle it. But I'm here. I'm with you."

You stared at his apologetic eyes. He kissed you. You suddenly felt that wave of sadness and before you could stop yourself, tears poured out of your eyes. Jungwon felt you tug at his shirt as you cried.

You didn’t want him to leave. To leave you. You don’t know how much longer you would stay here, and to have Jungwon be alone once again. Jungwon let your cry in his shirt, unable to push you away. And at the moment, the only thing left was you cries and sobs, and that one last string that was holding you and Jungwon together.

You woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, remnants of last night's tears still evident on your pillow. Every muscle in your body felt heavy, weighed down by the emotional turmoil you had gone through. The thought of eating breakfast or attending the group session seemed unbearable, so you decided to stay in bed, hoping to find some solace in the quiet of your room.

A soft knock on your door shattered the silence. You hesitated for a moment, then slowly got up to answer it. Standing there was Jungwon, his expression serious and his demeanor cold. The warmth and tenderness from last night seemed like a distant memory.

"Jungwon," You said, your voice barely above a whisper, “What are you doing here?"

"I'm leaving in a week," He stated bluntly, his eyes not meeting yours. The words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt a fresh wave of sadness wash over you.

"In a week?" you repeated, your voice trembling.

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped closer and gently rubbed your cheek, his touch surprisingly comforting despite his cold exterior. The memory of the kiss from last night flashed in your mind, and you couldn't help but ask the question that had been haunting you.

“Why did you kiss me, Jungwon?" You asked, your eyes searching his for any hint of the emotions he seemed to hide so well.

He finally looked at you, his gaze intense and unreadable, "I don’t know," He admitted, his voice quiet but firm, "It was just something I've been wanting to do."

The simplicity of his answer left you speechless. You had expected a deeper explanation, something that would make sense of the confusion and pain you were feeling. But as you stood there, looking into his eyes, you realized that sometimes, emotions couldn't be neatly explained or understood. They just were.

Jungwon's touch lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before he pulled away, his expression softening just a fraction, "Just because I’m leaving, that doesn’t mean to take advantage of yourself Y/n. Take care of yourself," He said.

Now that you’ve looked at it, you noticed how his expressions were. His once anger that he always felt seemed to just have drifted away from him. He looked numb. Maybe he was only feeling that way towards you, or that he just gave up on trying.

“I won’t. Thank you.” You muttered.

It had been a long, dreading week since you learned that Jungwon was leaving on Friday. The news had hit you hard, but you resolved to spend as much time with him as possible before he left. Each day felt like it was slipping through your fingers, and the more you were with him, the more you noticed how numb he seemed. The seriousness that he held never wavered, and it was as if he was trying to distance himself emotionally before his departure.

You tried to make the most of the time you had, mostly in the garden and seeing the stars together. You liked watching his expression soften as he stared up at the stars.

The days flew by, and before you knew it, it was Friday—the day Jungwon was leaving. The morning felt heavy with unspoken words and emotions. You met him at the place where you'd first met, a small, quiet spot that held so many memories. He stood there, his face as unreadable as ever.

"Jungwon," you began, your voice trembling, "I can't believe today is the day."

He nodded, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance, "Yeah."

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill, "I've noticed how numb you've been this week. Why, Jungwon? Why do you keep everything inside?"

He finally looked at you, his eyes softening just a bit, "It's just how I deal with things," He said quietly, "It's easier to be numb than to feel everything at once."

You reached out and took his hand, hoping to break through the walls he had built around himself, "But you don't have to do it alone. You don't have to shut everyone out."

For a moment, he squeezed your hand, a small but significant gesture, “I know," He said, his voice barely above a whisper, "But it's hard for me to open up. Especially now."

You felt a tear escape and quickly wiped it away, "I'll miss you, Jungwon. More than you know."

He took a step closer, his expression softening even more, "I'll miss you too," he admitted, his voice filled with an emotion you hadn't heard before, “More than I can say."

You stood there in silence, holding onto each other, trying to memorize every detail of this moment. Finally, he pulled away.

“Take care of yourself," He said, his voice steady but tinged with sadness.

"You too," You replied, your heart aching.

As he walked away, you felt a mix of sorrow and hope. Sorrow for the time you were losing, but hope that maybe, this wasn't the end.

You spent your days in the hospital feeling a void that couldn't be filled. Jungwon's absence was a constant ache in your heart. Every corner of the hospital reminded you of him, from the cafeteria where you'd share quiet thoughts to the garden where you'd steal moments of peace together.

Mia, ever observant, noticed the change in you almost immediately. One day, she approached you with a concerned look, "Hey, are you doing okay? You seem different lately."

You forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside, "I'm fine, Mia. I promised Jungwon I wouldn't change because he left."

Mia gave you a sympathetic look, "It's okay to feel a little sad, you know. It's only natural."

You sighed, feeling a weight lift slightly from your shoulders, "Yeah, you're right. I do miss him a lot."

Dr. Kim had also noticed the change in you. One afternoon, she called you into her office. You sat down, feeling a bit anxious as she looked at you with a serious expression.

"I've noticed a difference in you lately," She began, "I was hoping you didn't have romantic feelings for Jungwon, as that's not allowed."

Her words stung, and you felt a mix of anger and sadness, "Why would you say that? Jungwon is one of the kindest people I know."

Dr. Kim sighed, her expression softening slightly, "Jungwon is not in his right mind right now. It's important for you to focus on your own well-being. I also noticed Jungwon change when he was leaving. You must mean a lot to him, but like I said, that’s not allowed."

You felt a surge of frustration, “How can you say that? You don't know him like I do."

Dr. Kim looked at you, her eyes filled with concern, "You're right Y/n, I don’t. I'm just looking out for you. It's important to stay professional and keep your emotions in check. You’re not here to look for love.”

You left her office feeling even more conflicted. You missed Jungwon deeply, and now you had to navigate your emotions while trying to remain professional. But you knew one thing for sure—you wouldn't let anyone dictate how you felt about Jungwon.

The sleepless nights seemed endless. Each one was a reminder of how much you missed Jungwon. You'd lie awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying memories of him in your mind. The hospital felt colder and lonelier without his presence.

In an effort to cope, you started attending group therapy sessions. At first, it was difficult to open up, but over time, you found solace in the shared experiences of others. The group became a small beacon of hope, helping you feel a bit better day by day.

Despite the progress, the ache of missing Jungwon never fully went away. His absence was a constant shadow, but you learned to manage it better. The group sessions taught you valuable coping mechanisms, and slowly, you started to find small moments of peace.

Months passed, and you began to notice a change in yourself. The sleepless nights became less frequent, and you started to feel a sense of normalcy returning to your life. You still missed Jungwon deeply, but you were learning to live with that feeling.

Finally, the day came when you were getting discharged. It felt surreal to be leaving the hospital after so long. You packed your things, feeling a mix of emotions—relief, anxiety, and a lingering sadness. As you walked through the halls one last time, you couldn't help but think of Jungwon and all the moments you shared.

The day had finally arrived. After months of being in the mental hospital, you were getting discharged. You packed your belongings, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. As you walked through the familiar halls one last time, you made your way to Mia's room. Mia had become a close friend during your stay, and saying goodbye was bittersweet.

"Mia, I'm leaving today," You said softly, trying to hold back tears.

Mia smiled, though her eyes were watery, “I'm so happy for you. You've come so far. Promise me you'll take care of yourself out there."

You nodded, giving her a tight hug, "I promise. I'll miss you."

With a heavy heart, you left Mia's room and headed towards the exit. Just before you reached the door, you saw Dr. Kim approaching.

"Hello, Dr. Kim," you greeted her.

Dr. Kim smiled warmly, maintaining her professional demeanor, "I'm proud of you. You've made remarkable progress. Remember to take things one day at a time."

"Thank you, Dr. Kim. I couldn't have done it without your help," You replied sincerely.

Dr. Kim handed you a folded piece of paper, "This is for you. Open it when you have a moment."

Curious, you took the paper and nodded, "Thank you."

You walked out of the hospital and got into the cab waiting for you. As the cab started moving, you unfolded the paper. It was a letter. The handwriting was familiar, and your heart skipped a beat as you realized it was from Jungwon.

Dear Y/n, I'm so sorry I never had the courage to confess my feelings to you. I've loved you ever since we first spoke. I regret not telling you sooner. I hope you can forgive me. If you want to, visit me anytime at [hospital address]. I’m hoping you meant what you said you’ll never leave me.

Love, Jungwon.

Tears streamed down your face as you read the letter. The emotions were overwhelming. You had missed Jungwon deeply, and knowing he felt the same way brought both pain and relief. You clutched the letter to your chest, feeling a mix of sorrow and hope for the future.

As the cab drove on, you looked out the window, the world outside seemed a little brighter. A new sense suddenly came to you and that’s when you had an idea.

You told the cab driver to take you to the hospital where Jungwon was staying. The drive felt like an eternity, your mind racing with thoughts of what you would say and how he would react. You hadn't seen him in so long, and the anticipation was almost unbearable.

When the cab finally pulled up to the hospital, you paid the driver and stepped out, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. You walked through the sliding doors and approached the front desk, where a nurse was busy with paperwork.

"Excuse me," You said, trying to keep your voice steady, “I'm looking for Yang Jungwon. Is he still here?"

The nurse looked up and smiled kindly, "Yes, he is. He's in room 312. Just take the elevator to the third floor and turn left."

You thanked her and made your way to the elevator, your heart pounding in your chest. As the elevator doors closed, you took another deep breath, trying to calm yourself. When the doors opened on the third floor, you followed the nurse's directions and walked down the hallway until you reached room 312.

You hesitated for a moment, your hand hovering over the door handle. Finally, you gathered your courage and pushed the door open. There he was, sitting up in bed, looking healthier than you had ever seen him. His skin had a healthy glow, and his eyes were brighter. He had changed so much in the months since you'd last seen him.

"Jungwon," You said softly.

He looked up, and for a moment, his cold exterior seemed to melt away, "You came," he said, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and relief.

Without thinking, you rushed forward and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly. He stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed, hugging you back just as tightly.

"I missed you so much," You whispered, tears streaming down your face.

"I missed you too," He replied, his voice cracking with emotion, "I'm so glad you're here."

You pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, "How are you feeling?"

"Better," He said with a small smile, "A lot better, thanks to you."

You walked into Jungwon's room, immediately struck by how neat and orderly everything was. The room's cold, clinical atmosphere seemed to match his reputation. But you knew better; you knew that beneath that exterior was someone worth caring for.

You sat down on the edge of his bed, feeling the tension in the air, "How's everything been here?" you asked softly.

Jungwon looked at you, his eyes softening for a moment, "A lot better," he said, his voice tinged with relief.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you, "I'm so glad to hear that. I was really worried about you."

He nodded, then his expression became more serious, "I'm relieved that you got discharged. I was worried too."

You reached out and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "I hope you get discharged soon too. You deserve to be out of here."

Jungwon sighed, looking around the room, "No one has visited me. My sister is always so busy; she doesn't get the chance."

You felt a pang of sadness for him, "I'd like to meet her," You said, surprising even yourself with the sudden declaration.

He looked at you, confusion flickering in his eyes, "Why?" He asked, but he didn't press further.

"Where do you think she lives?" You asked, determined.

Jungwon gave you a small, grateful smile, "I think she lives in the city, not too far from here. [apartment adress]?"

You nodded, already planning your visit, "I'll go see her and tell her about you. She needs to know how you're doing."

For the first time in a long while, Jungwon looked genuinely relieved, "Thank you," He said softly, "That means a lot to me."

You spent the rest of the visit talking about his stay here and how much everything was different. You noticed how better he looked when he spoke about different things.

You stood by Jungwon's hospital bed, feeling a mix of emotions. It was time to say goodbye, but you promised yourself it wouldn't be for long, "I'll visit you again soon," You said, your voice filled with determination.

Jungwon looked at you, his usual stoic expression softening slightly, "I'll be waiting," He replied.

Gathering your courage, you leaned in and gave him a shy peck on the cheek. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to you. Jungwon's lips curled into a small smile, a rare sight that warmed your heart.

You turned to leave, glancing back one last time before heading out of the room. As you walked down the hospital corridor, you couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. You needed to see his sister and tell her everything.

The cab ride felt like an eternity, but finally, you reached the apartment building where Jungwon's sister lived. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing a woman who looked strikingly similar to Jungwon.

"Who are you?" She asked, her expression a mix of confusion and curiosity.

"I'm a friend of Jungwon's," You explained, "I met him at the hospital."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she stepped aside to let you in. You took a seat on the couch, feeling a bit nervous but determined to convey your message.

“Would you like anything to drink?” She asked, heading in the kitchen.”

“A glass of water is fine.” You replied. You heard turning on the sink as she hummed a tune before coming back in with a glass of water. She gave it to you and sat across from you.

"I wanted to talk to you about Jungwon," You began. "He's been really lonely at the hospital. He misses you a lot."

She looked down, her expression softening, "I know I've been busy, but I didn't realize how much it affected him."

You nodded, understanding the weight of her responsibilities, "He understands that you're busy, but he needs you. Even a short visit would mean so much to him."

She sighed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, "Thank you for telling me. I'll make time to visit him. He deserves that."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you, “I'm glad. He really needs his family right now."

She stared at the ground, “I know. Everything been going downhill for me lately that I forgot to visit. I-I feel so bad that I left my baby brother like that. I’m the reason why he’s in the hospital.”

As she sobbed, you noticed how she’s been probably keeping all of this in. They were both going through so much, and yet, no one was there to comfort them. As she wiped her tears away she took a deep breath.

“Jungwon was a good boy. He was never a bad kid. When my parents wouldn’t be there for him, I was. He relied on me so much that when I left for college, he cried so much. I knew that leaving him would be my worst mistake.” She began, “When I got to college, I was so focused on my studies I couldn’t call or visit. And then all of a sudden I hear about him being admitted to a hospital and his friend passing away I knew he was going through so much. And yet, I still didn’t see him. I felt guilt for leaving him that I thought he didn’t wanna see me.”

you nodded your head in understanding, “I know how you feel. I would’ve thought that too. But Jungwon really does miss you. I feel like talking to him first would tell you everything.”

She nodded and wiped her eyes, “I will. Thank you…um,”

“Y/n. Kim Y/n.” You said.

She gave you a smile and nodded, “Thank you, Y/n.”

As you left her apartment, you felt a sense of accomplishment. You had taken a step towards helping Jungwon reconnect with his sister. And as you hailed a cab to head back home, you couldn't wait to see the look on Jungwon's face when his sister finally visited him.

You arrived at your aunt's house, feeling a mix of exhaustion and anticipation. She welcomed you warmly, her embrace providing a sense of comfort you desperately needed, "How was your visit?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern.

"It went well," You replied, managing a small smile, "I need to unpack my things."

She nodded, understanding your need for some time alone. As you unpacked your clothing, your thoughts drifted back to Jungwon. You were determined to visit him again the next day, hoping to see some improvement in his spirits.

You finished unpacking and lay on your bed, soon your eyes began drifting in to slumberland.

The next morning, you made your way back to the hospital. As you approached Jungwon's room, you paused in the doorway, a smile spreading across your face. Jungwon and his sister were sitting together, deep in conversation. It was a sight that filled you with immense relief and happiness.

His sister noticed you first, giving you a warm smile as she stood up to leave. "Thank you," She whispered as she passed by, her eyes conveying her gratitude.

You walked over to Jungwon, who looked up at you with a faint smile, "How are you doing?" You asked, taking a seat beside his bed.

“I'm doing fine," He replied, his voice stronger than before. "Actually, I have some good news. I'm getting discharged soon."

Your heart leaped with joy, "That's amazing, Jungwon! I'm so happy for you."

He nodded, his eyes reflecting a sense of hope you hadn't seen before, "Thanks to you, I got to reconnect with my sister. It means a lot to me."

You felt a wave of emotion wash over you, "I’m just keeping my promise. You deserve to have your family around you."

Jungwon reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently, "You did more than help. You gave me hope."

As you sat there, holding his hand, you realized that this was just the beginning with Jungwon. You knew you were gonna be with him every step of the way. And knowing that he would soon be out of the hospital filled you with a sense of optimism for the future.

After a few days of visiting Jungwon, the day finally arrived for him to be discharged. You could hardly contain your excitement as you made your way to the hospital for the last time. Jungwon's sister had given you her number, and you had arranged to meet them at their home to celebrate.

When you arrived at Jungwon's sister's house, you felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. You knocked on the door, and it was quickly opened by Jungwon's sister, who greeted you with a warm smile, “Come in, come in," She said, stepping aside to let you in.

As you walked into the living room, you saw Jungwon sitting on the couch, looking much healthier and happier than the last time you saw him in the hospital. The moment he saw you, his face lit up with a big smile. You rushed over to him and hugged him tightly, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

"I'm so glad you're finally home," You said, pulling back to look at him.

“Me too," Jungwon replied, his eyes shining with gratitude, "Thank you for everything."

The afternoon was spent in the best way possible. Jungwon's sister had prepared a delicious meal, and the three of you sat around the table, sharing stories and laughter. It felt like a family gathering, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for being included in such a special moment.

As the sun began to set, you found yourself feeling more and more at home. Jungwon's sister noticed your comfort and suggested, "Why don't you stay the night? We have a guest room, and it would be nice to have you here."

You hesitated for a moment but then nodded, realizing that you didn't want to leave just yet. "I'd love to," you replied, smiling. You sent your aunt a text to let her know.

The evening was spent watching movies and talking about everything and anything. Jungwon seemed more relaxed than you'd ever seen him, and you felt a deep sense of contentment just being there with him and his sister.

When it was finally time to go to bed, Jungwon walked you to the guest room, "Thank you for staying," He said softly, his eyes filled with warmth.

"Of course," You replied, giving him a hug, "I'm just glad you're okay."

Before he could go, you gently grab his wrist. You hesitated for a moment before speaking, "I was wondering if you could sleep with me tonight. I just... I don't want to be alone."

Jungwon's eyes softened, and he nodded, “Sure, I'll stay with you."

The two of you made your way to the guest bed, and as you settled into the bed, you felt a sense of comfort wash over you. Jungwon lay down beside you, and you turned to face him, feeling the warmth of his presence.

As you both lay there in the quiet, you decided to share something that had been on your mind, "I visited Mia today," You began, "She's getting discharged soon."

Jungwon smiled, "That's good to hear."

You looked into his eyes, searching for something, and then you asked, "Can I ask you something? I know you and Mia talked a few times, and I was just curious about what you talked about that one day. I-I’m sorry but I kind of eased drop.”

Jungwon sighed softly, his expression thoughtful, "Mia and I were talking because I told her that I wasn't sure if you'd be okay with a guy like me liking you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a mix of emotions, "Why would you think that?"

He looked at you with sincerity in his eyes, "I just didn't want to burden you or make you feel uncomfortable. I care about you a lot, and I didn't want my feelings to complicate things."

You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently, "Jungwon, you don't have to worry about that. I care about you too, more than you know. And I'm really glad you're here with me."

A soft smile spread across his face, and he leaned in closer, and kissed you. The kiss was soft and gentle. You softly sighed into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. He gripped your waist softly.

The kiss soon turned into a urgent one and before you knew it, he was above you kissing your neck. You softly moaned and gripped his hair making him let out a groan. He took his shirt off and bends down to kiss you again.

Slowly, you took off your shirt and shorts, leaving you in your undergarments, “Fuck,” Jungwon whispered. He kissed along you jaw and chest and was faced to face with your core. He kissed your cloth pussy softly making you gasp.

He slowly pulled your underwear down to reveal your soaking pussy. You whined when his hot tongue licked your folds, “You taste so sweet.” He teased. You couldn’t speak and continued letting out breathy moans feeling his tongue do magic.

You felt your orgasm coming and squirmed, “J-Jungwon- hic! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned. He sucked on your bud and that’s when your orgasm came over you. He didn’t stop licking and sucking on your pussy until you were clean.

He leaned up and took off his sweats and boxers revealing his dick. You bit your lip staring at the red tip with precum. He softly stroke it and aligned his dick in your entrance. Slowly, he finally pushed in making your breath get caught.

You held him tightly as he waited for you to get used to it before moving just a tad bit. You let out a choked cry feeling him push in deeper, “Your squeezing around me so tight.” He hissed.

You mewled in his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. He took that as a sign to keep going and that’s when you felt a sting of pain and pleasure, “P-Please. Move.” You whispered.

He didn’t need to be told twice and began moving at a normal pace. The sound of loud skin slapping and moans were heard in the room. You couldn’t hold in your noises and covered your mouth remembering his sister isn’t that far.

He chuckled and dipped down to give you a kiss on your temple before gong at faster pace making you let out a choked moan. You felt him in your stomach, feeling his mushroom tip hitting all the right spots. You knew you were gonna cum soon. You watched Jungwon let out breathy groans and sighs feeling you milk his dick. He could be in you forever.

You felt your orgasm coming and rubbed your bud in circular motions, “G-Gonna cum- ah!” You cried out before you were coming all over his dick. Jungwon snapped his hips a few more times before cumming inside you. He slowly pulled out of your now filled pussy and lay beside you, panting.

He slipped his arm around your waist and nuzzled his nose in your neck making you giggle. Jungwon stared at you with a look in his eyes, “I wouldn’t mind having a baby with you.” He suddenly said.

You stared at him back, “I mean, you did cum inside me.” It was silent for a few moments before you both burst out giggling.

“I love you, Jungwon.” You whispered. He hummed, his eyes slowly closing.

“I love you too.” He finally said. You felt a wave of happiness feeling your heartbeat quicken.

Eventually, you both drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other's presence. It was a night that marked the beginning of something new, something beautiful, and you couldn't have been more grateful for it.

taglist: @laylasbunbunny @umsivsworld @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @yoongisbaguetteshoes @enhypenlovre @melancholy-z @minghaosimp @dudewhoism @honeychocos @hearts4hee @tlnyjoong @1013club @yagsoobin @mrsjohnnysuh @heekilrvs @enhasrii @prettygurlnikittie @jakeswifez @yunhoswrldddd @seokseokjinkim @whateverhoon @noturmommasstuff @love4hee @ddeonuu4me @selleprotection @jenn-ieverse @babyy-bambii @nikiswifiee @rjssierjrie

[writinginatree]

Daggers & Distractions

Relationship(s): Bodhi Durran & fem!Riorson!reader, pre-relationship Garrick Tavis/fem!Riorson!reader

Summary: Your best friend Bodhi teases you about your crush on Garrick, which has you a little too distracted on the mat.

Warnings: Swearing, blood & injury, a tiny bit of self-depreciation if you squint. Set when Bodhi and reader are in their first year.

(Prequel to Kisses & Confessions, but can be read independently)

"You're doing it again," Srian drawled in your head, voice dripping with annoyance.

You blinked, snapping out of the almost trance-like state you'd been in and forcing your focus back on your sparring session.

"I'm not doing anything," you lied, even as your gaze already drifted toward where Garrick was sparring with your brother once more. You just couldn't help it.

"If you don't stop ogling the male—"

"Why don't you just mind your own business?" you interrupted her.

"It is my business if my rider fails at her hand-to-hand training."

"I'm not—"

Your back collided with the mat, knocking the breath out of you. Gods damn it.

"You're distracted." Bodhi stood over you, eyebrows raised and the hint of a smirk playing around his lips.

"Srian won't shut up."

"I don't think Srian is the problem," he said with a pointed glance a few mats over.

The tiny smirk turned into a shit-eating grin when you only glared at him in response. There was no point denying it when he knew damn well what — or rather who — had distracted you.

"I hate you."

Bodhi laughed and extended his hand to help you up, before getting back into a fighting stance. "Maybe we should switch to a mat with a less interesting view, huh?"

The view had had his back to you so far, but now he spun around as he pushed Xaden to the ground, and your eyes met for a second. You quickly looked away, cheeks burning.

Bodhi was right. Being in plain sight of a shirtless Garrick was detrimental to your ability to focus. Not that it was much better when his shirt was on. Even when he wasn't anywhere nearby, he was always on your mind. It was starting to turn into a serious problem, if you were completely honest with yourself. What had been nothing more than a harmless crush at the beginning of the year was rapidly progressing into something much more serious. No amount of avoiding Garrick or pretending to be interested in other random guys seemed to help.

"Or you can keep staring at him and hope he notices."

Bodhi's words brought you back to the here and now.

"No!"

Anything but that. You would die of embarrassment if Garrick noticed your interest in him.

Bodhi rolled his eyes. You could only imagine how annoying it must be for him to watch as you pined after Garrick without ever making a move, but it just wasn't that simple. Not just that being your brother's best friend made him off limits, you also had to admit — if only to yourself — that the second-year was way out of your league. Besides, you were still hoping this pathetic crush would eventually fade.

"What a wonderful world it would be if it did," your dragon sighed. "I do wish you would hurry up and get over him. Or fuck him. Maybe if you knew what it's like you wouldn't have to constantly think about it."

"What I do or don't think about is absolutely none of your business, Srian! None!"

"Then do us both a favor and get better at shielding."

"I'm working on it! Now get out of my head and let me get back to sparring."

"I'm not the reason you're taking a break," she huffed, an unfriendly reminder that it had been you who'd distracted yourself.

But now you would focus. For real this time.

You pulled your daggers. What you and Bodhi had been doing so far was just the warm-up — now it was time to get serious. No more fooling around, no more distractions. You had to take this seriously. The next round of challenges was only two days away, and last time you had almost gotten your ass kicked. You desperately needed this training session.

"Let's get on with it."

"Sure," Bodhi laughed. "If you're done staring at Garrick."

You didn't bother responding to his teasing, and attacked instead.

A few minutes into the fight, movement behind Bodhi caught your eye, and you made the mistake of glancing past him for a second. It was Xaden and Garrick walking past, apparently done with their training for the day, and despite their shirts being back on, you couldn't help the way your gaze lingered on Garrick. He was watching you and Bodhi, a slight smile on his face, and you wondered what he was thi—

A sharp pain in your left arm brought your attention back to where it should be: on Bodhi and the dagger in his hand, which was now dripping blood.

The cut on your arm was about as long as your hand, but thankfully didn't seem very deep. Still, the amount of blood flowing out was considerable, and you quickly put your hand over it, cringing at the pain.

"Shit! Are you okay?"

"See? This is exactly what I was talking about earlier," Srian quipped in your head at the same moment.

Instead of responding to her, you slammed your mental shields into place, blocking her out as best as you could, which admittedly wasn't all that well yet. Luckily she decided to leave you be.

"I'm fine," you told Bodhi. "Just a scratch."

"Doesn't look like a scratch to me," your brother said before Bodhi could answer, having approached with Garrick.

All the blood that wasn't currently flowing out your arm shot to your face at the realization what a fool you'd made of yourself. You could only pray they didn't realize why it had happened.

"Well... a big scratch," you conceded. "No big deal, though."

Big deal or no, Xaden had that look on his face that meant you were about to get a lecture. Sure enough you barely finished the thought when he already started. "What the fuck were you even doing?! That attack would have been easy enough to block."

"Wasn't paying attention I guess," you muttered, giving Bodhi a pleading look. You knew he knew exactly why you hadn't been paying attention. Helping you out of being questioned about it by Xaden — right in front of Garrick, no less — was the least he could do to make up for accidentally cutting you.

Bodhi rolled his eyes, but slung his arm around your shoulders and said, "Come on, I'll take you to the healers. I think that scratch might need stitches."

"And whose fault is that?" you retorted, glaring at him.

"Your own."

Xaden doubtlessly wanted to scold you more, but allowed Bodhi to lead you away. He'd probably come find you later to give you a thorough talking-to about not letting yourself get distracted, but as long as he didn't do it in front of Garrick, you wouldn't mind. You supposed you deserved it. This kind of shit could get you killed around here, especially in the middle of a fight. It was about time you got this stupid crush under control — preferably before something like this happened again. As handsome as Garrick was, if you got yourself killed because you were too distracted staring at him, you wouldn't be able to look at him at all anymore.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw him talking to Xaden, their eyes on you. Talking about the idiotic way you just hurt yourself, no doubt.

"Kill me, Bodhi," you whined as soon as you were out of earshot.

"No, thanks."

"Please! That was so fucking embarrassing!"

Your asshole of a best friend just shrugged. "That's what you get for staring at Garrick all the time. I honestly don't know how no one else noticed it yet. You're, like, obsessed!"

"I'm not obsessed! I just have a tiny little crush, okay?!"

"Right... As tiny as that cut on your arm."

"Fuck off."

You went to take the turn that would lead you to the dormitories, having no intention of actually seeing a healer for your injury. It might have been a bit more than a scratch, okay, but it was nothing you couldn't handle on your own. But Bodhi grabbed you by the back of your shirt and continued on into the direction that would get you to the bridge connecting your quadrant to the main college.

"Bodhi—"

"Nuh-uh. We are going to the healers, and don't even try to argue with me."

"But I hate getting stitches! And it's not even that bad, so—"

"You either let me take you to the healers or I'm telling Garrick that he's the reason you were so distracted. I'm sure he'd love to hear all about your little crush."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Wouldn't I?" Bodhi challenged, continuing down the hall with you in tow.

"That— That's blackmail!"

"Mhm, I guess it is."

"I hate you."

"Yeah, yeah. You said that already. But I have some chocolate in my room, and if you let them patch you up without being a baby about it I'll share with you."

"Hmm, okay... In that case... Let's go!"

[vumming]

all of us are dead — han gyeong-su “collide"

contents : angst, pining, unrequited love

a/n: it's been a year since i watched aouad this is rusty lol also, i tweaked a few to match the vibes hope you don't mind.

You've always seen him. Prancing around in that childish display like a toddler who has no knowledge of the world yet. How insufferable.

Gyeong-su, who would always have the wide wolfish grin on his face as he claps everyone along the way, sending "positivity" and laughter whenever he passes by.

Gyeong-su, who would always show his heart on his sleeves. A guy who cannot lie so easily due to his fiery temper and short fused personality.

He's a real pain in the fucking ass.

"Out of my way." Your shoulders bump into Gyeong-su, the room is too small and sharing it with him makes it all the more annoying. Na-yeon obediently follows, clinging on your arm—she always does, like a helpless duckling always needing your constant affection.

You notice how her eyes pierce and narrow in disgust at the sight of the boy alone. She has always developed a sense of superiority complex over Gyeong-su, you could care less about it.

What's nagging the back of your mind is how even with the harsh and constant back and forth between you and him, that stupid 'adrenaline' that sends your blood pumping never goes away.

Na-yeon lifts her chin, nose high as she flips a lock of her hair behind, "I can't believe we are sharing a room with a welfie." She tugs on your uniform's sleeve, delicate hands holding your arm gently.

"This is beyond awful." She murmurs, eyeing the other boy whose face is put in a scowl as he eyes the two of you, the burn in his gaze is full of hate.

You let her talk, ever since you've dated Na-yeon, she's always been a rather opinionated girl who sticks deeply to her ideals and that much is admirable no matter how much hate she always seems to get.

"The hell is wrong with you two?" His friends held his arms back, teeth gritting as they tried to shut him up to not worsen the fight.

After all, you and him have created quite the reputation—both infamous for your constant rivalry towards each other.

Na-yeon cringes at his uncouth attitude, gesturing at the boy, "with how he's acting right now, it's no difference to those flesh eating creatures." She hissed, flinching when Gyeong-su turned to glare straight at her.

Apocalypse or not, things do not change.

You find your own thoughts wander in the carnage of chaos that surrounds you.

Which monster would prevail, do you wonder?

"Tch. Always up on your high horse, are you looking down at me?" He's always quick to assume things, Gyeong-su has a tight grip on the lapels of your collar with his knuckles turning white by the passing seconds.

Students were intrigued as they watch it all happen on the school grounds.

You sneered at him, a rough look replacing your usual features. "Hah, were your wits taken when you weren't looking?" Gyeong-su pulls you towards him, the proximity is so close that your foreheads touch against each other.

It could've been something romantic if not for the tension between the two of you, glares and snares sent between each other. The fight that accumulates in between is loss in the chitter chatter of the pesky nosy students that's gathered.

"Why you—!"

He's always quick to anger indeed. Pulling his head back only to slam it against yours. The tension breaking only to worsen as a fight broke out causing the horde of students watching you to cheer and whip their devices out.

"Who are you calling an idiot, you arrogant bastard!" He swipes another punch, "I'm even surprised that you know I was calling out your IQ!"

You don't know what fueled this fight in the first place, now it's a hit or be hit situation that you find yourself in. You parry only to punch him, retaliating.

Fuck.

Your head hurts and you felt like your brain shook inside your skull at his headbutt. This crazy guy drives you mad.

Gyeong-su manages to push you down, the back of your head hitting the ground as you wince, your own hands pulling him down. If you will be taken down, you'll make sure he'll suffer the same too.

Fist fly and whacks echo the place as the two of you continue to fight.

And somehow, you find yourself in the same situation as the first, but now, your own hands are gripping his collar too. "Fucking hell.." Gyeong-su curses, panting heavily as he struggles to stand up due to your hold on his clothes.

His leg slipping in exhaustion as he slips on top of you—"Fuck-!" The both of you swore at the same time, eyes wide when you felt something soft brush against your own lips.

This guy drives you mad.

"Oi! Y/n!" They attempt to stop you from entering the recording room—Na-yeon and Gyeong-su were supposed to break up the fight and for her to apologize.

The Na-yeon you know rarely yield over things like apology.

Too stubborn.

Too..

Maybe it's the realization that you have because of your observations, the way she was adamant on taking him out of the group was normal due to her dislike, but when she has swiped something off—the handkerchief that she'd always cherish and never use was whipped out.

A gift you had given her.

Shit.

Your hands open the door in a flurry, harshly grabbing your girlfriend's wrist as you face her, eyes mad and in disbelief over the course of action she decided to take.

"What the fuck Na-yeon?!" Your voice rises as you snatched the handkerchief from her hands in a fury.

The girl flinches, arm outstretched as she stares at you in fear at the strength you emit over her delicate wrist. "Y/n.." Was all the left her lips. "What are you doing?!"

"Wiping that blood off of the mop— do you plan to kill him?!"

Everyone stares in wariness and disbelief, eyes wide like saucers. Gyeong-su stepped forward with a look of caution. "..What do you mean.?" He hesitantly asked.

And perhaps it was the heart in you that cannot betray your girlfriend no matter—even with how cruel one is, someone loved them until the bitter end. Atleast that's what you try to tell yourself as you gaze upon Na-yeon who looks at you with eyes that can break your own heart.

Gaze of a desperate.

And with a crushed look, she snatches her wrist from you. "You.. I thought you're on my side."

You couldn't hear anything, a buzzing and ear deafening noise films itself inside your mind that you couldn't even comprehend why you did just that, morality? Kindness? Pity? You didn't notice when she exits the room, her cries hidden amongst the ringing in your mind.

Did you do the right thing?

You did, right?

Even if she cries.

Even if your heart breaks hearing that.

Sure she's annoying but the girl was once whom you held dear in your heart.

Am I wavering..?

"Hey-!"

You snapped out of your thoughts, eyes focusing on his that holds you grounded. Gyeong-su holds you down to reality, his hands cupping your cheeks to hold your gaze.

It looks soft, concern for you and there's something more..

The rough pad of his fingertips brushes on your skin and his face, scarred and worried looks at you—like someone important enough to be worried about.

"Hey! You okay? Snap out of it, damn it!"

There's a slight sharp pain on your cheeks though...

"Did you just slap me?"

"How else would you wake up?!" His tone was somewhat offended, and by instinct, which is the rivalry between the two of you, you took a hold of his collar. Somehow it was a big harsh therefore pushing the two of you to the ground with a soft thud.

His limbs entangled with yours as the two of you stare wide eyed with each other.

Ba-dum.

Ba-dum.

Who's heartbeat is it that's beating wildly?

"Wha-"

"Fuck!"

You pushed him down the floor, clicking your tongue as you drag a hand over your face. "Don't say a word about it!"

The door slammed shut, leaving him all alone in the recording room once again, this time, in a wild and uncomfortable tension inside him.

Gyeong-su looks at the door you exited, the image of you walking out in his mind and he could've swore he saw a faint trace of redness in your face—or maybe not, but that doesn't explain the synchrony of hearts beating with each other like a perfect melody.

".. or was that mine..?"

[littleststarfighter]

Frerard fic recs part 3

More Frerard fic recs from stories I've been reading. Part one can be found here and part two is here

Take the Pieces and Build Them Skywards by quarterturn

Gerard's not happy with his life, but that doesn't mean he's particularly thrilled when he wakes up dead. To add insult to injury, he finds out that instead of crossing over, he's been chosen to join the ranks of the grim reapers. Things get more complicated when he falls for one of the living, a waiter named Frank Iero. And just when everything finally seems to be falling into place, Frank's name shows up on the list of souls to be reaped. Loosely based on the TV show Dead Like Me.

With Dripping Wings, Heavy Things Won't Fly by silver_etoile

Gerard is in more than a mess when he is kicked out of Heaven, and the demon tracking him is certainly not helping him. Frank has a plan, though, and he needs the fallen angel for it to work. This is what happens when Heaven and Hell collide.

Shadowplay by theoretically_yours [WIP] Malimore is a small town in Southern California where ghosts are as common as any other household pest and vampires come out to steal the souls of humans at midnight. Frank Iero is a young paranormal investigator whose interest in the supernatural began after the bizarre and untimely death of his parents. One day, when he and his partner take on a particularly gruesome case, all hell breaks loose with Frank caught at the very center. This is the story of how it all happened.

Crossed out by Haze ♥

There are three principles behind what They do. One: certain events must happen. Two: they must happen in the correct order. Three: they must happen at the correct points in their respective timelines. When one of these criteria is not met, the timeline requires repair.

Frank was just supposed to get Gerard on the damn ferry that September 11th, and go home.

But sometimes the universe has its own ideas.

A Modern History of Witchcraft in New Jersey by Lllookalive 

In which Frank, unassuming sound design student and part-time Staples employee, discovers that "YOLO" doesn't really apply to him, that demons are really good at contracts, and that his immortal ex-witch boyfriend isn't great at reading fine print. Also he dies a few times. It's cool, he comes back.

Fate don't make mistakes by cedarbranch 

After meeting the wrong end of a blade, Gerard wakes up in a mysterious realm called the Under. He's surrounded by demons who all seem to think he's something special, but none of them will answer his questions. They reveal nothing except the fact that he died too soon. The only person willing to help is Frank, his self-appointed guide, who swears he can bring Gerard home. He escorts Gerard across the Under, and together they confront enemies, unexpected feelings, and secrets of the darkest kind.

In the end, all it takes is one misplaced soul to bring worlds crashing down.

A series of hauntings by anonymous

Gerard lives in a lighthouse by Dead Man's Point. He spends his time talking to the seagulls, and painting his prophetic visions.

He's seen his fair share of strange things, but when Frank Iero jumps off the cliff's edge, Gerard will do anything just to bring him back.

Anything.

Six degrees of Frank by stoplightglow

Gerard Way doesn't get out much. He's fine with that, honestly. Mikey says there's more to life than school and watching TV in the basement, but Gerard's comfortable; he'll have fun in college. Until then, he's just going to keep his head down and wait to get the hell out of Belleville.

Well, that's the plan, at least. Then he meets Frank Iero.

A love letter to growing up and the people who get us through it.

Fall fast and hard by stumphclub

Bullets-Revenge era. Frank and G falling in love, touring, making questionable decisions (as usual). Battling addictions and growing together. Messy and ugly, but they have their soft moments.

Goth gothic series  by lllookalive

Join us this Halloween for Shiver's first-ever livestreaming event!

Follow two teams of renowned paranormal investigators as they spend the night in one of the most haunted buildings in America, braving a curse that has been claiming souls for more than a century. The team to make it through the night with the strongest evidence of ghostly activity will walk away with bragging rights, a lifetime of notoriety, and a cash prize of $500,000!

Grab your popcorn, strap on that proton pack, and settle in for a wild night to find out who will emerge triumphant, and who will fall victim to the insatiable appetite of the restless dead.

a constant record of disillusion by  drapnel 

He forgot about the beer in his hand. He forgot that he needed to go check the frayed leads on his own guitar before he went on. He forgot about the exam on Tuesday he hadn’t studied for and the show flyers he needed to photocopy at work the next day and all of fucking Jersey. 

In that moment, though drunk and sloppy and barely intelligible through the awful mix, Frank knew he was watching the birth of an immortal.

Frank agrees to help find Mikey Way's new band its first show.

(Pre-Bullets to post-Summer Sonic '04.)

Wips but worth the read

Jinx removing by maslugosi

After a tragic loss, Gerard must return to the place where it happened. The prestigious boarding school, full of secrets and mysteries, lies within the small town of Wormwood Hollow. Plagued by ghostly visions, he and his friends are led down a trail of clues to solve the mysterious murder that took place the year before. Meanwhile, the enigmatic new transfer student draws Gerard's attention and intrigue, pulling him deeper into the school's morbid past.

100 names by grey14

It’s 2005, the Grim Reaper has taken up residency in New Jersey and one high school kid’s causing him a real pain in the ass, going by the largely unpronounceable name of Frank Iero. Frank Iero has been able to tell when people are going to die for as long as he can remember. He’s also hated Gerard Way for as long as he can remember, who happens to be one of the few people whose death dates he doesn't know. The hatred is very much mutual. Well, for now, at least.

There is something wrong with our roommate by seawhore (saints_for_girls)

Gerard moves to Vermont to study, only to find that only one of his two roommates seems to live in their shared apartment. And when he gets curious, he enters a world he had never expected to find in such a small town.

Californiacation by padfoot_001 On FicWad so have to be logged in to read.

Frank can't play guitar anymore, Frank doesn't give a shit anymore, Frank can't have Gerard anymore and it's killing him. When My Chemical Romance breaks up, when Leathermouth can't take him anymore.

[thistledropkick]

Last year, Kasai Jun was interviewed as part of the interview project DEATH, which interviews various people about death in order to find a better understanding of how to live and appreciate life.

I thought it was a fascinating interview, so I decided to translate it.

Please go visit the original interview - the photography accompanying it is absolutely gorgeous.

Also, please don't repost this whole translation elsewhere. If you want to quote an excerpt of my translation for something, please make sure to also credit the original team behind this interview and link back to the original interview.

Deathmatch Fighter Kasai Jun - 4/27/2022

“It’s not a deathmatch until you return home alive” The reason this 47 year old Charisma Wrestler continues to shed blood in the ring

Within pro wrestling, there is a genre called “deathmatch.”

An extreme set of rules that allows deadly weapons and has no disqualifications. Brawls with fluorescent light tubes, and dives onto barbed wire boards. Without hesitation, wrestlers stab their opponents in the head with fistfuls of bamboo skewers. When wound-covered bodies violently collide, shards of glass and sprays of blood shower the ringside seats.

Upon first seeing it, surely everyone thinks “Why are these people hurting each other like this?” “What the hell am I looking at?”

This is the world of the man known as “Charisma,” professional Wrestler Kasai Jun of the independent promotion Pro Wrestling Freedoms.

In November of 2009, he had a “razorblade board plus alpha deathmatch” against Ito Ryuji in Tokyo’s Korakuen Hall. Kasai, 35 years old at the time, dove from the second floor balcony, a fall of 6 meters, onto a table, aiming for his opponent Ito.

Afterwards they continued to fight with various weapons, in a match that concluded 15 seconds before the 30 minute time limit. That year, this match was awarded the Best Bout award. And Kasai, the winner of that match, became a living legend overnight.

12 years have passed since then. Kasai is now 47 years old, and he continues to rule over the world of deathmatch wrestling. Under the weight of many literal life-or-death battles, Kasai’s body no longer moves the way it did when he was young. Even so, why does he continue to set foot in such a dangerous place?

We asked “Charisma of Deathmatch” - a man who makes the crowd go mad in the space between life and death - about his views on death and on life.

Desiring to truly feel alive

- Normally, people try to avoid pain and suffering. Kasai, why do you continue to shed blood in the ring?

Hahaha. From an outside perspective, you must really wonder “Why do you keep doing something so painful” huh? That’s a normal way to feel. But from the wrestler’s perspective, it’s completely different.

In your normal daily life, do you ever feel like “Ahh, it’s so glorious to be alive”? You’d almost never unconsciously blurt out something like that.

But in a life or death battle in a deathmatch ring, after you step down from that ring, that’s exactly what you feel. “Ahh, I’m alive. I’m so grateful to be alive.” Because of that, I can’t quit.

Mountain climbers and stuntmen probably feel like this too, don’t they. Stepping into a situation where their life could end, and returning home safely. I wonder if they’re searching for that feeling of being “truly alive.”

This feeling is passed on to the audience too. Fans often tell me “Watching Kasai Jun’s deathmatch gives me the strength to continue forward.”

They say things like, “I’m being bullied at school so I wasn’t going to go any more, but now I feel like I can keep going.” Or, “It’s exhausting to keep going to work, but after seeing Kasai persevere while shedding blood in the ring, I can persevere and keep going to work.”

Recently I can’t do this much because of covid, but in the past when I’d sell merch, fans would often say things like this to me.

Because of this, it seems to me that deathmatch wrestling is simultaneously a way for wrestlers to feel truly alive, and a way for those who watch it to feel more positively about living.

- Because of the sensational way “death” is shown in the ring?

Probably, yeah. Because it looks like we’re doing something really painful.

But don’t get me wrong. We aren’t in a particular hurry to die. And we aren’t wasting our lives either. What I always say is, “It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.”

[Note from me - this phrase (生きて帰るまでがデスマッチ) is a play on a well-known Japanese phrase 家に帰るまでが遠足 “The field trip isn’t over until we return home.” This started as something a teacher would say to students in their care, and Kasai has altered it into his motto towards both himself and other deathmatch wrestlers.]

- It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.

If you get in a ring where you might die or get seriously injured, and you do die, or you do get seriously injured, you’re no different than a rank amateur, right? But a guy who dives into a deadly dangerous situation and returns from that ring unharmed, he’s the absolute greatest and the absolute coolest.

Like a stuntman, right? If he returns home alive, people say “amazing,” but if he dies, he’s no longer a pro.

At 35 years old, his view on life did a complete 180 during a match

But, when I was young, I thought about it completely differently. I never thought “I’m grateful to be alive.” In the ring, I did dangerous stuff and defeated my opponents. I just thought of it as my job.

The more dangerous stuff I did, the more people said “Kasai is amazing!” That felt really great. Every time I stepped into the right I thought, if something goes wrong and I die I guess that’s how it goes. I thought “Deathmatches should be a memento mori.”

- What caused such a big change in your values?

That match against Ito Ryuji in Korakuen, in 2009. It changed my mental state by 180 degrees.

The truth is, I went into that match thinking “This is my last match before I retire.” Because it was my last match, I would do everything I wanted to do. Win or lose, I went into the ring thinking “I’ll retire.”

But during the match, my feelings completely changed. I thought “If I quit like this, I’ll be half-dead.” There’s nothing else I want to do, and I’ve never felt joy like this anywhere else. It was just too much fun.

So, after the match ended with 15 seconds remaining, I announced my decision to continue wrestling. “I was thinking of retiring but, I’m gonna keep going.” That’s what changed.

- Since your values have changed so significantly from when you thought it’d be good to die in the ring, what’s your “ideal death” now?

Spending the day with my family as I always do, watching tv with an after-dinner drink as I always do, getting comfy in my futon as I always do, and passing away. That’s the best death, isn’t it.

I’ve said it before but, people who say “It’s my ambition to die in the ring” are just trying to look cool. For a pro, it all comes down to returning home alive. And so, I believe that when the life of Kasai Jun the human being comes to an end, Kasai Jun the wrestler will die as well. I want to be a pro wrestler until I die. That’s how I feel now.

When I was young, I thought the best time for a wrestler to retire was when he could still move, when people would say “It’s a shame, because there’s still more he can do.” But if that’s true, I’ve already missed my best time to retire.

Since I’ve come this far, maybe it’s better to keep doing this until my death. Since around the time I turned 40, I started thinking this way.

Gaining years = leveling up. I’ll reach my peak just before death.

- Since you’ve been doing this for so long, it’s inevitable that your body has become weaker. Kasai, how have you dealt with aging?

The word “elderly” is a concept created by human beings, isn’t it? Since that’s the case, I believe it’s something we can absolutely overcome. I don’t think increasing in age is the same as becoming elderly.

Look, it’s true that my physical stamina has decreased and my muscles have gotten weaker than they were when I was younger. But my will and my spirit have continued to grow. Instead of just breaking even, I think I’ve leveled up. 47 years old is level 47. I now see growing older as a positive, like leveling up every year.

Because of that, my peak has yet to come. I’ll reach my peak just before I die. I’ll be at my strongest just before my death. That’s the ideal I envision for myself.

There was a time when I felt insecure about my age. When I hit my mid 30s, I hated that my body was becoming weaker.

But then, while drinking at home and watching a documentary on TV about (rock musician) Yazawa Eikichi, I realized something. “If you think about it, uncool young people are uncool, and cool guys are cool even if they’re old.” Since then, my way of thinking changed. I started calling getting older “leveling up” at around that time.

[Note from me: Suzuki Minoru also refers to getting one year older as “leveling up” in the exact same way. They are friends, so I assume Suzuki got it from Kasai.]

- I'm surprised that a pro athlete who uses his body as a weapon would think of aging in that way.

Pro wrestling and deathmatch are unique among sports. Unlike say, track and field, or swimming, it isn’t a competition where every second counts. I can’t move the way I could when I was young any more, but through my facial expressions, pauses during matches, and so on, I have many ways to express myself.

A guy can be handsome, macho, with great muscles, and completely suck as a wrestler. In contrast, a guy like me who’s ugly, short, and middle-aged, can get support from the fans. It’s a completely different genre, and that’s what makes pro wrestling so interesting.

- What about your emotional struggles? In your documentary film you said you were having some difficulty maintaining your motivation, which you described as “Deathmatch Erectile Dysfunction”

Yeah, well, that can definitely be a problem. When you’re young, you’ve just got piles of hopes and dreams and things you want to do. But as the years go on, and as you accomplish those things, you can kind of get lost.

What’s helped me increase my motivation has been the existence of people who make me think “I absolutely don’t wanna lose to this guy” or “I don’t want this guy to take all the best stuff for himself” In my case, for example, that’s been (fellow PW Freedoms deathmatch wrestler) Takeda Masashi. Or, although he’s from another organization, New Japan Pro Wrestling’s El Desperado.

That’s why for the past 3 or 4 years, I’ve been asking people to “stimulate me.” I want intimidating people to keep approaching me. Well, on the other hand, if they take the most delicious part for themselves, that’s a problem.

A fear of death led to a “selfish life”

- Incidentally, perhaps it’s too late at this point, but do you worry about being injured or dying?

I said it already but, “It’s not a deathmatch until you return alive.” Since I’m a pro, I have the skills required to do this without death or injury. 

But, it’d be a lie to say “I’m not afraid.” Even now, for several days before a match I get so stressed that I can’t sleep. Despite how I look, I get plenty scared. Much of my life has been driven by a strong fear of death.

- How do you mean?

It sounds silly, but when I was in grade school I believed in “The Prophecies of Nostradamus.” Have you ever heard of it? “In the year 1999, all of humanity will be destroyed.” Every night I shook with fear in my futon, thinking that my life would end at the age of 24.

Propelled by that fear, I concluded, “If the earth is gonna get destroyed anyway, I should quit studying. Instead I should use the rest of my remaining lifetime to do stuff that I like.” I completely quit studying, and instead spent all my time watching pro wrestling, which I loved.

Conversely, my fear of death also led me to become a pro wrestler. After graduating high school, I got a job in Tokyo as a security guard, but I gave into temptation and visited brothels daily. One day I happened to be reading a magazine with an HIV checklist inside, and almost every item applied to me.

At that time, I still thought “AIDS = death” so I thought “Oh, this is AIDS.” “Oh, this is how I’ll die.”

Luckily, when I got tested the result was negative, but after preparing myself for death, I thought “I really should do what I want” and knocked on the door of Big Japan Pro Wrestling. My life has always been influenced in this way.

- I get the impression that many wrestlers die at an early age. Since then, your fear must have increased.

Nah, that’s not really true. I’m surprisingly practical about the deaths of others. I just accept it, like “That’s the kind of life you lived.” I suspect my fear of death isn’t a fear of death itself, but a fear of becoming nothing.

- A fear of becoming nothing.

I’m no (actor and spiritualist) Tanba Tetsuro, but if after you die, you go to the spirit world, and cross the Sanzu river, that’s not all that scary is it? I wouldn’t go so far as to say “it’s fine if I die” but there’s some kind of hope or meaning. But if “After death, you become complete nothingness” “After death you feel no joy or sadness” I think that’s really scary.

But these days, I don’t experience that fear of death as much as I used to. If after this interview a dump truck hits me and I die, I wouldn’t have any regrets. I could say I did what I wanted to do.

Pro wrestling is a business where you depend on your popularity with an audience, but I’ve never tried to flatter the audience to get sales or support, or thought about how to increase my popularity. Ultimately, Kasai Jun puts himself first. I’m my own number one.

To die without regrets is to win at life

- But, if someone wanted to imitate your way of life, I think most people would be profoundly afraid of not getting by financially, or of being rejected by society. Why do you think you remain stoic in the face of such fears?

What’s there worth imitating about me? If you’re selfish like me and you can change it, you should want to!

But, this is probably related to that “fear of becoming nothing” I mentioned earlier. Ever since I was little, I’ve thought stuff like “This whole world isn’t real” and “Maybe all of this is just a dream.”

Nothing in this world is certain. Since that’s the case, all you have are your own body and your own feelings. In short, I don’t believe in anything but myself, so I put myself first.

- So in order to “feel truly alive” you throw yourself into the painful world of deathmatch wrestling, which leads us back to where we started.

That’s right. I guess you could say that pain is the only thing I believe.

But when I was young, I did understand the fear of not making enough money to survive. When I was around 30 and my son had just been born, I was seized by that fear.

Really, I was broke, and I couldn’t even pay into the National Pension Fund like I was supposed to, so I went to the ward office and said “I do intend to pay, so please wait a little.” I thought to myself, “Living is so expensive and so difficult.”

- A deathmatch fighter scary enough to quiet a crying child, with such an everyday problem.

Three years after my debut, when I was around 27, I was badly injured. I quit Big Japan, and after a year’s absence, I transferred to a different group called Zero-One.

Zero-One was founded by ex-New Japan Pro Wrestler Hashimoto Shinya, and the pay was good compared to Big Japan, and they held a lot of shows, so I could wrestle frequently. The environment there was very pleasant.

But, due to the policy of the organization, I couldn’t do the deathmatches that I love. During that time as a “salaryman wrestler,” I survived, but I think deathmatch fighter Kasai Jun, pro wrestler Kasai Jun, was completely dead.

“I really should do the pro wrestling I want to do,” I thought, and I quit Zero-One, and persisted with the pro wrestling that I love. Maybe that’s why I feel like I can now “die without regrets.”

Ultimately, if you live your own life as you wish, and think “I have no regrets” when you die, you win. Maybe people today have lost sight of the essence of what it means to live. It’s fine to work hard at your job, but if you’re spending every day miserably, is that kind of life really okay with you?

I’d rather live for 20 years and laugh every day than live for 100 years and never smile. If you’ve lived for 100 years and never laughed, that’s the same as being dead, isn’t it?

~

写真：本永創太 ~ Photographer: Motonaga Souta

執筆：鈴木陸夫 ~ Author: Suzuki Atsuo

編集：日向コイケ（Huuuu）~ Editor: Hinata Koike (Huuuu)

[heavenhealy]

genre: smut, porn with a bit of plot, flatmate!matty x fem!reader, dom!matty x sub!reader

summary: after a bit too much wine at a game night, you worry matty learned things he never would have never wanted to know about his flatmate, but he assures you you aren’t as weird as you think.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: this is smut, please do not read this if you're under 18 or uncomfortable with sexual content!! specific warnings include: swearing, alcohol consumption, they're both a bit self conscious but only briefly, crying, (VERY MINOR) who hurt you troupe bc I'm a whore for it, reader is worried about being kinkshamed/implications she has been in the past, dom/sub dynamics, praise, degradation (consensual), unprotected sex (don't do this), choking, spitting, hair pulling, spanking, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), aftercare, fluff, matty being a little softie after sex

a/n: I haven't written anything in a while so I apologize if this is rusty! I also do not proof read so there may be some mistakes, and as always please let me know if I missed a warning and I will add it on. Happy reading! :)

"Never have I ever...." Your friend trails off, swirling the contents of her wine glass absently in her hand. Her living room is packed but all the attention is on her as she speaks. A sudden blast of nostalgia from college collides into you: you sitting in your much smaller common room with her and your group of classmates, drunk off cheap beer as you swap horror stories about professors and dating. She had always been the most gripping and magnetic person you knew. Someone who could pull all of your darkest, deepest secrets out of the folds of your mind before you even realized.

Or maybe it was the expensive wine that she always had stocked now that you were adults.

"Oh! Never have I ever made someone choke me during sex." A few flickers of laughter go up around the room, and you watch as some couples proudly throw back gulps of their drinks. Your mind whirrs, suddenly self conscious at the idea of someone seeing you take a drink, but you do it anyway. There's so many people here, and so many of them are drunk that it's unlikely anyone would remember anyway. You take a hearty gulp and feel the pleasant buzz settle in your veins, whether from the alcohol or the quiet liberation of admitting one of your darkest desires like this.

Her question seems to have inspired a new theme of the game, as the next person in line slurs, "never have I ever been spit on and liked it." Less people offer up their admittance than on the last round, and your face flushes as you try to subtly bring your glass to your mouth. Your eyes dart around, drunkenness making you feel sleepy. The room was mostly occupied by your coworkers and friends of friends, all people that you could elect to never see again if you had to, and a wash of relief has you taking another sip of wine- this one just for enjoyment.

"Never have I ever let someone I'm hooking up with come inside me." Even you have to laugh at the absurdly sexual way the game began to go, but you jovially drain the last of your wine, throwing your head back lavishly as a round of jeers go up in the circle around the coffee table.

Your head is back upright, warm and swimming with intoxication as you giggle in spite of yourself. Remnants of wine stick on your lips and you lick them, trying to pry off the last of the sweet taste. Your body feels so heavy and so light at the same time: flying and sinking with intoxication and the inherent comfort that comes with it. Your eyes flutter open, mostly because you're afraid you really could fall asleep right on the couch if you keep them shut. As soon as the visual world comes back to you, you see him.

Matty, your generous flatmate who always accompanies you to these parties when he has the time, standing just behind the seated circle of people in the game who you now notice are beginning to disperse. The sight of him is sobering. How long had he been standing there? The rest of these people were inconsequential to the rest of your life, but Matty? You share a home with him, cook each other dinner, and swap each others' laundry, and pick up medicine when the other is sick.

Nerves curl in your stomach. If he had seen all of that, he definitely would think you're a freak, a sexual deviant. Maybe he would want to terminate his lease and you would be forced to find a new place. You suddenly feel dizzy as he approaches.

Handsome as ever, he pushes a hand through his already wild curls and plops onto the couch beside you. He hums thoughtfully, examining your face closely; the flush of your cheeks, the unhinged look you're sure is present in your eyes. As hard as you try, your intoxicated mind can't comprehend the emotions showing on his own face.

About all you can muster to think is "handsomehandsomehandsome" as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth before prying the empty wine glass from your hand.

"We've got to get going," he says to someone as you stand with him, slightly wobbly in your platformed sneakers. You wave at your friend and manage to support yourself long enough to make it out of her front door. The night air is thick and sticky with humidity but Matty keeps an arm around your shoulders as you go down the stairs, silently ensuring you don't wipe out and skin your knee again.

"Thanks," you finally speak once you're onto the familiar even sidewalk back to your flat. He just hums, dark eyes sparkling under the street lamps dotted along the path.

"You didn't drink?" You ask, suddenly realizing that he seemed remarkably steady tonight.

"'course I did," he wiggles his flask from his jean pocket and waves it in front of you, "I'm just not a lightweight." You sigh, throwing your arms up dramatically. He's already giggling before you even begin to defend yourself.

"I didn't get drunk off of the one glass, Matthew! I actually had three tonight. And I didn't even get sleepy till the last one."

"Sleepy? Is that the word for it?" His voice is clipped as you make the final turn to your street, the looming complex you call home only yards away. Your brow furrows at his tone.

"What are you implying?" You stop, arms crossed defensively over your chest. He deflates, visibly dropping at your change in demeanor as if it wasn't him who caused it.

"Seriously, Y/N? We're almost home." You don't budge and he relents. "Sorry, that was rude of me. I know you're sleepy, let's go. Please? Forget I said anything." You sigh, appreciating the candid look of relief on his face when you start to walk again, all the way until you're into the safety of your bed.

---

"Oh, fuck," you grimace upon waking up. You have no idea what time it is, but sunlight is streaming in through the crack in your curtains, and you can faintly hear the sounds of the tv down the hallway. You know that your hair is tangled, and it's a miracle that you even bothered to change out of your clothes before bed.

You grasp for your phone and sit up, cursing the throbbing headache that always comes with getting wine drunk. You start picking up pieces of the night in your memory like loose change: a selfie here, a bump into a guy from accounting there, a handful of pretzels tossed into your mouth by your friend, the game of never have I ever-oh.

Shit. You swallow hard, listening for the noises downstairs, and the confirming shuffle of Matty's footsteps makes you freeze. Shit, how much had he heard? You meant to ask about it last night but lacked the cognitive ability for such a thing.

Your stomach bottoms out as you think, practicing different ways to approach it in your head.

Hey, did you hear about all of my weird sex stuff last night?

Hey buddy, learned anything about me recently that changed your view of me as a person and now you want to move out?

Hi Matty, thanks for coming with me to the party and getting us home, did you see me admit to liking being spit on?

Each idea was worse than the last, and a shiver of fear runs up your neck. You had always expected to have to deal with some differences in this living agreement, and had before, but never about something like this. Okay, maybe you could just avoid him until you came up with a good way to ask? Or maybe it would never come up at all? Perhaps he really hadn't been in the room the whole time. And worse case scenario, you have time to think about it. You could crawl right back into bed and pretend to sleep all day and-

"Y/N? You're up, right?" Matty's voice sounds from right outside the door, strong and clear. You consider ignoring him but he nudges on the door and it swings open just a bit, revealing him clutching onto a bakery to go box. He smiles bright when he sees you upright and takes a step into your room.

"Brought you a cinnamon roll,” he smiles the small, earnest smile that you don’t even think he realizes he does, and your heart melts. Surely this is a sign off goodwill.

You thank him and take the box, immediately flipping the lip open and staring down at the pastry. Your stomach rumbles at the scent so you dig in, flakes of dough falling off and back into the box as you eat. Matty stays silently in your doorway until you vaguely gesture at your bed, inviting him to sit as you chew.

He perched himself at the foot of your bed: hair messy under the hood of his favorite old sweatshirt and his hands tucked endearingly under his thighs, as if he’s waiting for something.

You finish your bite and raise an eyebrow at him, hoping that he voices whatever he wants or needs from you. Not that you didn’t love just spending time together or the random act of kindness, but faint alarm bells were still ringing at the possibility of what he learned last night. Neither of you were prudes: you’d had your fair amount of conversations about hook ups throughout your years as friends, but it still felt like a delicate line to cross.

“‘S good?” He asks, voice stunted as if he had to swallow down his nerves before he spoke. “Are you feeling okay? Not too hungover?” His eyebrows crinkle cutely as he asks, eyes roaming your face as if to make sure you’re telling the truth.

You nod your assurance. “Fine, I was mostly just hungry but you fixed that.” He echoes the grin you produce and your heart flutters. He looks so painfully domestic like this, in his comfy clothes and making sure you feel okay. Butterflies swarm in your stomach as you recall the care he took -always takes- to get you home safely.

“Good. You were...pretty blasted." You cringe, placing your head in your hands. The heat of your cheeks is strong and burning into the palms of your hands. Fear strikes down your spine, a fuzzy feeling of panic filling your mind. The question dances on the tip of your tongue.

"Hey." His fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging gently at it until you relent. The warmth of his touch lulls you a bit, but you can still feel the tears rimming your eyes. He coos, the sound a soothing balm on your heart.

"What's got you so upset? You're more than allowed to get drunk from time to time, love. I'm no saint myself." The pad of his thumb swipes gently over the vein in your arm.

"I-" one hot tear escapes you, rolling down the side of your nose. "How much did you see?" Your voice barely holds: wobbly and unsure yet you somehow find the courage to look at him: staring deep into his eyes. He looks back just as unflinchingly, studying your eyes as if he was trying to memorize their exact curvature.

His mouth opens, then closes into a frown, and a dark wave of anxiety creeps through your chest. He knows. He saw it all, and you know Matty well enough to know that he only hesitates with you when he's trying to find the right words to soften the blow. Like the time you had made horrendous tasting pasta and he pushed it around the plate until you finally asked for his honesty. He releases his hold on your wrist as you tug it away harshly, scooting further up your bed until you hit the headboard with your back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry about- if you think I'm weird and you want to leave or not live here anymore, or you don't want me to ever talk to you again-" your voice wavers and a rush of tears spill forth despite how hard you will them to stop. The idea of him never speaking to you again you makes you choke on a sob, but you can't dull the voices in your mind.

"Now why the fuck would you think that?" His voice snaps you out of your blubbering. His pretty features are marred into a scowl so deep that you gasp.

"Tell me, Y/N, why would you think that? I would never, ever-" his features shift, eyes softening. "Who made you think that way about yourself?" You try to ignore the undercurrent of anger in the question but it oddly sets you alight to hear how much he cares about this. That maybe even if he doesn't agree with your desires, he's not going to alienate you because of them.

Your tears have dried onto your cheeks, and you can feel the uneven breaths of anxiety begin to wash away as he shuffles closer until your knees touch. It still feels as if your brain is full of cotton, unable to process or produce anything meaningful to the conversation.

"I don't mind if you don't tell me who made you feel that way, but I'll be damned if I let you go on feeling' weird about it. Or alone about it. Cause you're not." You nod along listlessly as you often do when he rambles on, and with the mix of emotions rushing through you it takes you a moment to understand him. Matty traces a lazy pattern over your knee cap, eyes glued to your face as you catch up.

"Oh," it stumbles out of you before you can check yourself. "So you, like," your brain short circuits as he flashes you a dazzling smile.

"I do."

"You don't think I'm gross?" A spark of hope settles in your stomach, whether from the knowledge, or Matty's proximity, or both you aren't sure.

He licks his lips, runs his tongue over his teeth in a way that makes your heart lurch. His curls shimmy around his face as he shakes his head no, hand stilling on your knee.

"Actually quite the opposite." His lopsided grin makes you gasp, and his hand slides up the length of your leg until it's resting on the top of your thigh. He sits up onto his knees, imposing over you even on with his pajamas still on. "More surprised..." his eyes search your face, finding only awe, "happy, thrilled, elated...who would have thought my sweet little angel would be so..." he clicks his tongue, mocking as he pretends to think. Your heart rate quickens as arousal shoots through you. "Fucking dirty." He tilts his head as if speaking to a child, eyes sparkling with what you can only assume is lust.

Your mouth feels dry as your entire face and neck flush red.

"I-I, well, uhm." You gulp and he places a hand delicately on your face. You lean into the touch, no longer finding it in you to be ashamed in front of him.

"You what? Are a dirty little thing who gets off on being choked and spit on?" You nod fervently and he chuckles, winding his fingers into the hair at the base of your neck. "Gonna need some words from this pretty mouth or we aren't doing anything."

"Yes, yes! I am, Matty. C-can you please?" He tugs at your hair, sending your line of sight upwards until all you can see are his eyes and mop of curls.

"Please ruin you? Make you forget about whatever fucker shamed you for what gets you off?" All thoughts outside of Matty leave you as you whine your affirmation. The anticipation is enough to make you squirm against his hold, hot pin pricks of pleasure sparking as he pulls against your hair.

"No running now that I've got you." He smiles sinfully before pushing forward for a kiss, molding his lips against your own with ferocity that you had only imagined he would use. No matter how many times you had fantasized about kissing him you never would have expected it to feel this perfect.

He tastes like coffee and the faint staleness of his last cigarette; something so iconically Matty that it makes you want to cry. He devours you, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and holding steady on your hair to keep you exactly in place for him. Arousal roars inside of you, underwear already slicking at the show of dominance just the kiss has given you.

"Need you." You mumble it into the kiss, unable to push down your thoughts any longer. Matty relents, chest heaving just as much as your own.

"Need you," you try again, clearer this time, tugging at the strings of his hoodie. It's gone in an instant, his lean tattooed torso exposed for your viewing pleasure. Matty's hands are instantly fisting into the fabric of your old sleep shirt, stripping it as soon as you gasp out a yes. He eyeballs your tits and immediately groans, deep and guttural in a way you've never heard before. "Prettiest fuckin' girl. Look at you." The tenderness makes your heart swell as he tenderly cups your breasts in both hands, pinching at your nipples just enough to make you breathless. He places a line of kisses down your sternum and then follows the same path with a swipe of his tongue.

Shuddering, you latch onto his back and dig in with your nails, hoping to leave him with a little gift of his own. The movement presses him against you, his face buried in your stomach as he continues the sinful path of his tongue down to the elastic band of your shorts. He licks under it, being careful not to actually touch you anywhere you truly wanted him.

"Mmph, Matty, please-please please!" You moan and shiver, wriggling under his weight as he keeps you pinned down with one arm over your mid section.

He nips playfully at the skin of your stomach, "Impatient little slut, huh? Just got started on you and you're already lookin' for more." He abandons your skin completely, taking his warmth with you. A whine grumbles in your chest at the loss, but it dies in the air as you watch him shuck off his sweatpants and underwear in one go.

You can't tear your eyes away from the sight of his cock: something you'd imagined but never figured you would be lucky enough to see in person. Desire strikes through you as he settles against the bed, his lean thighs on display as he kneels on the bed.

"Can I suck your cock?" The question jumps out of you and Matty stills, seemingly shocked at your boldness. He cocks his head, biceps flexing when he wraps a hand around himself. Your mouth practically waters as he pumps himself slowly.

"Of course you can," he licks his lips as he settles into your crumpled bedsheets, spreading his legs to give you ample room to work. You spring into action, eager to repay all of the attention he's given you.

There's no time to waste once his cock is in your mouth. Your eyes water at the intrusion but you can't deny the way it makes your pussy flutter to feel so full of him. Matty gasps, lacing his fingers back through your sweaty hair and leading you further down, pressing your face into the skin of his pelvis.

A gag ripples through you and Matty groans, loosening his grip just enough that it's clear you could escape if you wished. But you don't, and you won't, as you work through the reflex with hot tears streaking down your face. Matty's breathy gasps only encourage you as you wiggle your tongue along the bottom of his cock as you suck: saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth and dripping into a sticky mess at the base of him.

"So fuckin' messy and hot, spitting all over me cause you're so desperate, is that it? Can't do anything but be stupid and drool all over my cock?" You moan at his words, bobbing your head vigorously both to show you agree with him and encourage him to say more, the nasty words flipping all the right switches in your brain.

His hips stutter up into your mouth and he huffs, pulling you off of him in painfully slow increments. You whine at the loss: throat raw and scratchy as you watch his cock shine under the light.

"Lay down," his voice is clipped and you're silently thrilled to note the shake as evidence that he was feeling just as fucked out as you.

You follow his instruction, flipping easily onto your back. He stills at the foot of your bed as you sprawl in front of him, legs parted in invitation. His chest heaves as he crowds overtop of you, heated skin against skin as he presses the length of his body onto your own. The fullness of his weight against you makes you feel fuzzy and you go lax under him, bucking your hips upwards in seek of friction over your clit.

Matty hums, his reddened lips forming into a mocking pout. "Prettiest baby ever but just so desperate," he places a kiss on your forehead and your heart flutters: eyes watering at the sweet gesture.

He catches your gaze, carefully inspecting the shine in your eyes.

"I'm okay," you voice before he can even ask, running your fingers over his jaw as you grin up at him. "Just happy." A little sly grin spreads on his lips and you can't help but return one, a giddy feeling of happiness spreading through your bones. It only makes you more ravenous for him and you whine, pushing your hips up against his own again as you attach yourself to his neck, biting a hickey into the skin just under his ear. A long moan falls from him as you work your mouth against him and your mind short circuits, in disbelief that you finally had him like this.

"Fucking quit with the hips before I explode," Matty growls, pulling away from the stimulation of your movement. You still immediately, the steel in his voice making you pliant. Apparently pleased with your behavior, Matty simply sits back, trailing his sinfully long fingers between your legs. You gasp at finally being touched, head pushing back into your pillows as Matty circles a finger around your hole, pushing in slowly as you widen your legs to allow him more access.

"Pretty little pussy, think you can handle another one?" You know he's teasing you, as he was already working another finger in alongside the first, stretching you open. The burn is deeply satisfying, liquid pleasure seeping through you as he works you open, thrumming his thumb against your clit.

"Matty, please?" You tug at the hand unoccupied with fingering you. His eyes squint in confusion at your request and you sigh, pulling his hand toward the base of your neck. His hand on your pussy stills as his mind finally catches up.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're fuckin' perfect, want me to choke you? Wanna have my hand around your neck while I fuck you stupid?." You nod dumbly, already feeling like you're on cloud nine. He moves the fastest you'd ever seen him, abandoning his work on your pussy for a threatening grip on one hip. You watch hungrily as he lines himself up with your pussy, eyes locked onto the image of his intrusion. The fullness of his cock inside of you made you keen, chest heaving as he pushes fully inside of you.

It had been a very long time since you'd been this full, and the fact that Matty was the one filling you made it even more addicting. The sheer size of his cock was enough to make you dizzy, and even more so once he finally began to move. A stream of obscenities spill out of you and Matty tsks, falling back into this dominant persona as he narrows his eyes at you, fingers dancing at the base of your neck. You swallow with harsh anticipation.

"Do I need to shut you up?" You nod eagerly, desperate to feel the strength of his hand closing around your neck. "What a dirty little girl, wantin' me to choke you when I'm already buried inside of you." His voice deepens with a groan while you plead him with your eyes, pussy throbbing around his cock at his words. His thrusts falter for just a moment as he finally relents, tightening his hold on your neck until you feel the perfect level of pressure that makes you feel perfectly floaty, nodding at him to continue his thrusts against you.

Emblazoned by the sight of his hand around your neck, Matty's hips snap into you with renewed vigor that has you rocking against the pillow, legs locked around his back. The slick sound of your pussy around him fills the room, mingling with the strangled moans that slip from both of you.

Matty pants above you, the punishing pace making your eyes roll to the back of your head. It's almost embarrassing how easily he works you up, and almost even more embarrassing how quick you are to hang your mouth open, mind blanked by the pleasure as you take everything he has to give you. He loosens his grip on your neck slightly and you whine petulantly.

"Relax, pretty. Not done with ya, hold on." Thankfully the movement of his hips doesn't even stutter as he moves his hand upwards, over the cleft of your chin before tracing the pads of his first two fingers over your bottom lip, pulling on the flesh until you open your mouth again. He smiles and lust clouds your senses as you watch his eyes crinkle.

"There's something else you want, isn't there? Something else that makes this pretty pussy all wet?" Your eyes widen, heart jumping into your throat as one of your most common wet dreams comes to life right in front of you. You try to swallow but his fingers in your mouth impede you, the tip of your tongue running over the digits.

"Wan' you to spit in my mouth," you make the sentence out with impressive clarity, especially as Matty's thrusts speed up at the confession, a deep, sustained moan rumbling out of his chest.

He slips his fingers from your mouth and immediately puts them between your bodies to thrum over your clit, slick with your own spit as they make contact. A shock runs through you, exciting every vein in your body with the whisper of your oncoming release. Despite his renewed vigor, Matty's eyes remain glued to your own as you hang your mouth open. From this angle you can see all of his pretty curls framing his face and every eyelash around his deep brown eyes. Before you even have a moment to anticipate it, a thick translucent glob of spit descends from his perfect lips and onto your waiting tongue. You swallow it eagerly as his cock twitches inside of your walls, and before you can even thank him, his hand unoccupied hand latches back onto your neck.

"I'm going to fuckin' come, shit. You're so hot." Matty's praises send you to another plane of existence as he holds you by the neck, deft fingers curling around your clit in time with his thrusts. You're sure that the sounds you're making are pathetic and embarrassing but pleasure courses through you so quickly that you can barely make out your warning that you were going to come.

Matty growls as you finally let yourself go, giving up to the monsoon of pleasure that wipes through your entire body. Your toes curl, muscles strained with the force of your orgasm as you hold him as close as possible with your legs. Matty curses, plowing into as he nears his own end. Even though you feel out of this world, you are acutely aware of everything about him; the way he pants and the rivulets of sweat that are beading down his chest, the beautiful moans that come from his bitten-red lips.

"Gonna come, can I come inside?" His desperation is making him whiny, and if you were less fucked out you would poke fun at the tone you know he would hate, but all you can think about is having his hot come fill you up.

"Yes, please! Need it Matty." A sliver of overstimulation starts to overwhelm your easy pleasure but you endure through it as you feel his cock twitch heavily inside of you before he leans into you, face buried into your shoulder as he comes. Although you mourn the loss of the face he makes, you get a beautiful sample of the moans that overtake him when he comes. The sound takes your breath away alongside the feeling of him filling you to the brim, so forcefully that you feel yourself shudder with another small orgasm as he finishes with a few more tiny thrusts of his hips. You gasp for air, immediately grappling for him to wrap your arms fully around his back.

He falls into you easily, his own chest heaving as his cock softens inside of you. You hear rather than feel him kissing over the plane of your shoulder as you float in and out of focus, exhausted and most likely dehydrated from this and the night before. Unintelligible speech rumbles against your skin, and Matty must realize that your lack of response means you aren't quite there, as he leans up onto his elbows.

You smile when you see him, face flushed and eyes heavy with fatigue.

"Handsome," you finally speak the word you held back last night and he laughs heartily as he cups your jaw as if examining you to look for damages before placing a kiss onto your lips; short and sweet and grounding.

"Glad you finally caught up, love. It was getting exhausting being the only one in the house who thought so."

You roll your eyes, finally coming back to yourself and reality.

"Last time I'll ever compliment you." Giggles continue to wrack his body as he slowly pulls out of you. The gush of your mixed arousal coming out of you makes you whine, sure that you had just ruined your sheets.

Matty looks guilty as you finally make eye contact again and you just wave him off, sitting up slowly as he flops onto the bed beside you. He looks up at you, reverently, and you blush.

"Stop that, please. Stop." Your voice is still scratchy but you can't fight the smile on your face, the undeniable hope that this wasn't just a one time freak accident.

"Stop looking at how pretty you are? Especially with that just got choked and fucked within an inch of my life glow? Nah." He casually pushes his hair off of his forehead and your body betrays your rolling eyes with a new stir of arousal.

"Seriously, though. You're hot. And pretty, and gorgeous and so fucking dirty in all the best ways."

"Stop before I barf, Matthew." You try to be petulant but can't resist his cute grabby hands as he settles you down next to him, petting gently at your temple.

"But thanks," you finally squeak out, feeling tremendously tired and satisfied as you yawn. "For being cool and doing all that and, like, not running away from me after." You feel him stiffen slightly before he goes lax again.

"Love, if I'm running anywhere, it's over to my room for us to have a clean bed to do this again."

[cialovesklopp]

𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 ➺ k.mbappé

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — in which amara imani releases a certain video clip about her sex life with her boyfriend and said boyfriend gets teased for it

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — kylian mbappé x amara imani (oc)

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 8.8k

𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 — wild side [normani; cardi b]

taglist �� @aechii @lorarri

masterlist

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amara.imani and iamcardib

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amara.imani

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username this world is truly amara’s and we’re all just living in it

lewishamilton you were amazing in the video amara, congrats

amara.imani omg i’ve succeeded at life

amara.imani lewis hamilton is a fan of my music

amara.imani my 16 year old me is definitely crying (i’m crying too)

graceywood you really came back to reign the top again

amara.imani and there’s no one i’d rather be doing that with than you

liyah_clark if anyone ever doubts you again, just show them that video and they’ll shut up really quick

liyah_clark also, charles just told me they created a ‘amara imani protection squad’ and the entire grid is in it

charles_leclerc amara is a honorary grid member

maxverstappen1 it’s not her against the world anymore but rather us against them

amara.imani 🫶🏾🥹

landonorris can we get free tickets for your next tour?

alex_albon ignore lando, we love you even without that (but can we pleaseee get tickets to your next tour)

amara.imani don’t worry guys, the next time i’ll go on tour you’ll be the first one to know

amara.imani if someone told me three years ago that the entire f1 grid would create a protection squad for me, I’d have probably called the police on them

amara.imani and antoine, if you’re reading this, you’ll be the second to know

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

kylian mbappe liked to call himself a lucky man. he had it all. his dream job that consisted of him scoring against top teams, he lived in paris, the city of love and he had the perfect girlfriend — the girl he had crushed on for years. and he had the perfect balance between his private life and work.

he could enjoy his time with amara, their growing relationship that was forming on all ends while also hide her from the public and make sure no one even knew that the two had been going out. they played the perfect game — but what he hadn’t realized was how his private life and social life started to intertwine and the lines became thin and blurry.

his teammates being huge fan of his girlfriend was starting to become a bit complicated; especially when they were talking constantly about her. kylian wouldn’t call himself a very possessive person but he wasn’t an alien and jealousy was completely human. if he could, he would keep her all to himself, somewhere where they could be all alone and it would only be the two of them. he knew that amara, liyah and grace often joked together and his brain was also aware that his teammates often joked when they were playfully teasing him for her but still; it didn’t make the jealousy deep inside him burn less.

usually when his brain was overworked like that and his thoughts were all over the place, football helped him calm down, find his foot again. but this time it was useless with the way his team mates were already waiting for him, huge grins adorning their faces. he had briefly talked to amara this morning before leaving for training with her being in a different time zone — which didn’t make him miss her less — but made his jealousy subside a bit when she had smiled at him bigly. she was his and only his, no matter how many people had seen her shake her ass.

he intentionally made a big circle around the group, walking directly over to the coach to get his first warming up exercises. he would deal with them and their childish antics later. the first sessions went quicker than he had anticipated and soon, he found himself with no way to escape them.

“oohh, le patron est arrivé,” ousmane exclaimed jokingly, clapping fiercely on his back as the french striker walked past him. — the chef has arrived

“ta meuf a faire fort,” presnel added, smirking at kylian playfully. “elle a percé, carrément.” — your girl did great, she literally dropped a bomb

he bit his lip at the mention of ‘his girl’, forcing his lips to not turn into a smirk. she was his girl, and only his and it was probably the proudest thing he had ever had. he could ever call his.

“le monde entier est jaloux de toi sans même le savoir,” ousmane snickered, “imagine s’ils savait qu’ils étaient jalouse d’une tête de tortue?” he laughed as kylian rolled his eyes. — the entire world is jealous of you without even knowing

— imagine they would know that they’re jealous of a turtle head

“it’s not funny anymore,” kylian muttered, giving ousmane a light slap on his neck even though it didn’t make his best friend stop.

“t’as même déjà vu le clip?” presnel asked him curiously as they entered the changing rooms. sitting down next to his things, kylian shook his head as he took a big sip of his bottle of water. — have you even watched the clip already

“no, but i already got a three minute long voice message from antoine.”

the grin on presnel’s lips grew as he raised his eyebrows teasingly. “ohhh, t’as encore rien vu mon frère. amara pulled out the big moves.” — you haven’t seen anything yet, bro

putting his hoodie on, he chuckled as he felt pride curse through his body at the mention of her achievements. “anyone who didn’t know that she’s talented is blind. she’s more than just talented. i’ll watch the video later, once i’m at home.”

leaning in closer and with a certain mischievous glint in his eyes, presnel suggested funnily, “how about … we watch it here? make it a team bonding experience?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

watching his girlfriend on tv together with his teammates while she was singing about having sex with him was not something kylian wanted to bond over with his team. just the thought made a small flame of jealousy and possessiveness appear in his stomach.

but he didn’t even have the chance to decline as presnel had already called the rest of the team over. “le gars, venez vite,” presnel called the others over loudly, laughing when he saw kylian’s expression. “on va regarder le nouveau clip d’amara.” — guys come quickly, we’re going to watch amara’s new video clip

he facepalmed, hearing the other players come in rushed, as they all gathered in front of the big tv in the changing rooms. they had all smirks plastered on their faces when they walked past kylian, all ready to tease him for his girlfriend’s new song. especially when it was about their sex life.

there were only two times when kylian mbappé had wished for the ground to open up and swallow him: when he had missed that penalty at the euros 2021 and now. when he had to witness his teammates watch a music video that was clearly about his sex life.

the minute the first scene had started to play, he wished he had lied when presnel had asked him whether he had already watched the video or insisted he would watch it alone. the video hadn’t even been on for thirty seconds before he could hear the first whistles of his teammates.

“damn,” one exclaimed as they watched amara dance in a gorgeous red dress, kylian remembered having bought for her. he didn’t know she had planned to use it for her video. glancing at them, some were attempting to mimic amara’s move, failing unsurprisingly but causing laughter all around them.

and as much as kylian didn’t like the thought of his friends watching her in that way, those feelings were very quickly overthrown by the pride he felt while watching her.

seeing her in her natural element, the way she sang so graciously, her voice matching perfectly to the music in the background, a sense of awe and admiration rushed over him. he knew someone had to be good to sing and some were good at dancing but the way she was that talented to do both and make it seem so easy and flawless — it opened a new perspective. she had come and seen him in his element, witnessed the way he made the ball his own and became a warrior on the ground and now it was his turn to watch her undeniable talent.

and it wasn’t just that, that left him speechless and in awe. moreover the way she danced, her moves filled with passion and dedication but also charisma and ability— it all passed through the screens, capturing him completely and his heart too. his teammates were probably too busy gawking at amara to even truly listen to what she was singing about but kylian felt hit with every word that she sang.

her voice resonated in his ears like a melody, a sound he would never forget. it wasn’t as beautiful as her laugh but it always managed to brighten everything up, illuminate his world. even though he had realized from the beginning how lucky he was to know amara and that he had to treat her like the goddess she was, today was again, a reminder that amara imani way out of his league.

there was this legend that sometimes, one had to fall several times in love with a person to know that they truly loved her — kylian had probably already fallen in love with her twenty times and this video proved he would do it many more times. every note she sang, every word she said about them and their life, every move she performed — it was her that truly captivated his eye. and the funniest thing was the it wasn’t even amara imani that he felt so strong about. it was the woman behind the music that had made her way into his heart and made it her home.

he was brought back from his thoughts when vitinha gasped and ousmane let out a loud sigh as they were met with the sight of amara in a beautiful silver bikini dancing. kylian chuckled at the way he

“you hit jackpot with her,” achraf told him, punching him lightly on the arm. he couldn’t hide his grin this time, only nodding as he thought ahead to when she would be back from the shooting — he couldn’t wait to wrap his arms around her, cuddle her while he showered her in affections and let her know that she was the sun in his universe.

“kylian, does she have a sister?” neymar asked jokingly, laughing.

he didn’t bother to reply, knowing that they were just trying to tease him. but his face grew a bit hot — even thought nothing was visible — when the two women were moving together slowly, their extensions covering their private parts. especially because they seemed to be all in awe.

“toi mon frère, t’as de la chance,” presnel exclaimed, grinning widely. “t’as vraiment étè béni,” he told his friend proudly, who only laughed. he couldn’t help but chuckle at presnel’s and ousmane’s antics, occasionally laughing at his enthusiastic teammates. — you my brother, you’re so lucky

— you were really blessed

as the video came to an end and the music started to fade out, till the screen was abruptly black again.

at first the changing rooms were quiet, with everyone still processing what they had just seen — a masterpiece and a talented genius. and then they all started clapping and whistling for kylian who started laughing.

that they were all fans of her was no secret; it was probably the most obvious thing in the world that the france national team and psg were huge fans of amara imani and even more since they had found out that she was dating one of their own. but what they realized now was that they had never truly seen her in action, in her world.

and between all of them, it was kylian who was wearing the biggest smirk of them all. as his teammates went back to what they were doing, still providing for playful commentary while others packed their things since training was over, he pulled out his phone to text his girlfriend.

INCOMING FACETIME CALL

grinning at his phone, kylian happily waited for amara to accept the call even though he knew she would probably still be on set. she had been eager to release it as it was the proud result of hard work, creativity and teamwork.

kylian remembered the days when she came home tired and exhausted from shooting and learning the choreography and it made him incredibly happy to see how it had all paid off. amara imani was a force to be reckoned with the moment she set her mind to something.

“alors, comment tu l’as trouvé?” amara immediately asked him the moment she saw his face appear on her screen. — so, what did you think of it?

“incroyable. c’était vraiment une belle video.” he replied with a warm smile and amara’s heart swelled at his words, her heart was full of joy and pride. to be honest, every other opinion on her didn’t matter anymore as long as he was okay with it. “but i think i’d have preferred if it was just me who got to see your beautiful body and not the entire world.” — incredible, it was a beautiful video

“are you jealous kyky?” she teased him playfully, laughing as she walked to a bit more private space to talk to him.

“pas du tout. mais je n’aime pas partager ce qui est a moi,” he smirked, amara’s eyes growing wide. she loved when he was possessive about her in that way — a healthy way where he just showed how not only proud and lucky he was to have her but also grateful. a different kind than evan’s jealousy where it was mostly always about his image. “the beauty of your body is something i’d rather not share with the world.” — not at all, but i don’t like sharing what’s mine

the singer made a mental note to thank god again the minute she finished talking because the luck she got that she wasn’t able to spot a blush — she had truly been a favorite.

they talked a bit, kylian occasionally asking some questions to the shoot before amara even noticed the unusual background. “by the way, i see you’re still at training. did you sneak away to watch the video in private.”

he shrugged nonchalantly. “presnel insisted that we all watch the video. the moment i walked in they were very excited to hear my opinion. he and ousmane have been singing it throughout the entire session.”

once her brain processed what he had just told her and what that meant, amara placed down her phone to hide her face in her hands. “oh mon dieu, don’t tell me that the entire psg team just saw me grinding on cardi b.”

this time it was kylian who laughed loudly. “je viens de te dire que tout le monde t’as vu nu et là seule chose qui t’inquiète ce que mes coéquipiers ton vu nue?” — i just told you that the entire world saw you naked and the only think that’s worrying you are my teammates?

“how am i supposed to look them straight in the eyes anymore? what if your coach saw it? or your parents,” she asked panicking, cringing at the fact that his teammates had watched her sing about sex while practically grinding on cardi b.

if he hadn’t attired the entire attention before he had now when he laughed loudly again, his laughter infectious as a small smile grew on amara’s lips. “mon amour, you don’t have to be embarrassed. they loved it. honestly, you should have seen ousmane trying to mimic your moves. it was hilarious. and antoine sent me a three minute long voice message to fangirl about the song.”

“i forgot they’re my biggest fans,” she replied as her embarrassment slowly faded.

“sometimes i feel like i’m dating them with you with the way they’re fangirling about you.”

“t’es encore jaloux?” she asked him mischievously, her tone teasing. — you’re still jealous?

he chuckled, rolling his eyes at her playful antics. “i already told you, i’m not jealous. i just don’t like sharing,” he insisted amusingly, laughing.

“LES GARS, KYKY IS ON THE PHONE WITH HIS AMARA!” presnel suddenly yelled into the changing rooms, putting all attention on the couple again.

“amara is on the phone?” neymar asked confusingly as presnel grabbed kylian’s phone out of his hands and showed it to the others.

“rend moi mon téléphone,” kylian demanded instantly, trying to get it back but marco stopped him from doing so. — give me my phone back

amara watched as the phone got passed from person to person before it ended in achraf’s hands. “where are you at the moment?” he asked, confusingly not recognizing the environment.

“not even a hi or a good morning? achraf, i’m disappointed. and that after kylian just vouched for you,” amara teased him as he rolled his eyes still she saw his lips curve up.

“hi amara. good morning to you even though it’s already past four,” achraf went along, making them all laugh. “so where are you?”

“still on set currently in new york. we wanted to celebrate for the video. i was told you were very impressed by it.”

achraf snickered. “ousmane nearly twisted his ankle trying to recreate your dancing. sadly we’re not as talented as you. you mastered the art of dancing.”

“les gars, redonnez moi mon téléphone,” kylian tried to get his phone back but he might as well have yelled at deaf people as his demands weren’t even acknowledged. instead, achraf passed the phone to presnel. — guys, give me my phone back please

“alors amara, après avoir vu cette video. faut quand même que tu nous dises comment kylian a fait pour te draguer?” presnel inquired which made amara’s grin only widen. “parce toi tu n'es pas sur son niveau.” — so amara, you really gotta tell us how he managed to bag you because after that video…

her cheeks were probably hurting from all the times she had laughed today as she talked to them. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”

neymar, who stood next to them with a wicked grin, waved at her. “if it isn’t meu artista favorito. so, when can we expect the next one?” — my favorite artist

“and preferably more child friendly. i think we know enough about kylian’s fetishes now.“ he joked playfully, referring to amara’s song rocket that had been just as exclusive.

“well, you know me. never missing a chance to embarrass our dear kyky,” she replied cheekily, grinning as she could just imagine kylian’s reaction at the moment.

“soo…” presnel began, wiggling his eyebrows as his tone turned more suggestive. “does our kyky take you for a ride every night?”

“or is it you who pulls up on him?”

her eyes widened as she nearly choked, coughing hard while she tried to take a breath. needless to say, the question had taken her off-guard. and the reaction she had shown had made the entire team laugh.

“has he shown you his wild side yet?

groaning, kylian rolled his eyes at his teammates. “mais arrêtez. redonnez-moi mon téléphone,” he demanded again, trying to grab his phone but ousmane managed to avoid his hand every time. — stop it please, just give me my phone back

“ton copain lâ est insolent,” ousmane complained jokingly, knowing that kylian would be even more riled up. “you didn’t answer our questions. has our kyks finally shown you his wild side?” — your boyfriend is getting really annoying

amara laughed. “all i can say is that i’ve finally seen his true colours.”

his teammates let out a round of whistles, wooing while presnel proudly clapped kylian’s shoulders.

“i think we should invite her to our next fifa night, show her how much her guy is lacking when he’s not on the ground.” neymar teased, knowing how sensitive kylian was about that topic.

amara snorted, stifling a laugh as she rejected their ideas. “désolée but i am not interested in your fifa-skills and as for kylian, even ethan manages to beat him,” she retorted sassily as the guys laughed loudly around her. they would tease the shit out of kylian for that, especially because the french striker liked to brag about his skills. “but don’t worry guys, he makes up for his lacking fifa skills in bed.”

wooes were heard all around the changing rooms as kylian begged for the ground to open and swallow him.

as they continued to talk, amara could see kylian become more and more desperate which amused her greatly. “your boyfriend is getting violent. i feel like we should give him the phone back.”

“you could always keep him. he paid me enough to last a year,” she added jokingly, winking playfully at neymar as the three laughed.

she watched as they passed the phone around again till it finally ended in kylian’s hands and she was met with his face again. she could instantly see how worked up he was against his teammates, especially achraf, ousmane and presnel, with the way his eyebrows were furrowed.

“i’m so sorry about them,” he immediately apologized, making amara snicker. “and i am very sorry about those questions. je te sure, même moi je me demande pourquoi je suis ami avec une bande de idiots comme ca.” — i swear, even i ask myself sometimes why i’m friends with this bunch of idiots

“HEY! WE CAN HEAR YOU!” one of his teammates yelled and everyone erupted into laughter again.

“ky, i love your friends,” amara beamed, wiping away some of the tears that had rolled down her face. “you’re so real around each other and they’re funny. i love how supportive they are.”

“can’t even lie about that. but they tend to be annoying very often.”

“please, you would probably cry if they left you alone. the amount of times you text achraf, you would believe you were dependent on him,” amara responded, giggling quietly. “i’m happy that they liked the video. i just wished they didn’t know what it meant.”

he laughed, the two small dips that were practically the origin of their story making their appearance again. “you do know that google translate exists right? they would have found out one way or another.”

her smile fell as she thought about his words before realizing her own stupidity. “true,” she replied quickly, facepalming.

as they continued to talk, with amara telling kylian all about their celebration gathering and the scenes from behind the video, kylian had managed to grab his things and bid goodbyes to his friends, ignoring their teasing and playful comments on his way out.

“by the way, i have a very special question,” kylian began, his tone turning slightly suggestive and playful with a mischievous smile creeping up on his face. “did you actually mean everything you said in that video?”

mimicking his mischievous expression, amara grinned at him. “i guess you’ll have to wait for me to come home to find out,” she answered simply, sending him her biggest smile.

he was lucky. and he had to send brice the biggest gift ever for dragging him out to that bistro that night. it was certainly the least he could do after the latter practically made him meet the love of his life.

— august 2021

one thing was certain. amara imani did not like parties.

and she wasn’t talking about family parties or gatherings because she loved those. no, she was talking about celebrity parties that forced people who spent their entire time digging and leaving nasty side remarks about each other, spend the entire night together. the ones where everyone was smiling at each other while talking behind each other’s back. and she hated those.

and it wasn’t even because she didn’t fit in — she had met plenty of people who had complimented her and told her how they loved her music. no, what really bothered her about those parties was the way everywhere she went, she could not be herself. she couldn’t even count on her fingers anymore how often she had to change personality just to fit someone’s image. and she was really trying. but it was simply overwhelming her.

evan, her latest and first boyfriend, was used to them. he didn’t have a problem, lying people bluntly in their face without even batting an eyelash. (that he would also do that to her, she would learn later). evan loved those parties because it gave him a chance to extend his network. having grown up in environments like those gave him the advantage of knowing how those gatherings worked, what to say and what to keep to yourself.

but amara just felt like an innocent lamb thrown in front of a wolf's cave. she was new to all this. two years ago, she was just a girl going to university and singing as a side hobby when she had time. now she was a rising superstar with some people idolising her and people watching every of her moves with the deepest scrutiny.

and to that she also had to add every of her wrong choices that she had already made. choosing the wrong friends (even though they had a truckload of obvious red flags) was clearly the biggest one. they were textbook fake friends with the way they acted around her and amara didn’t have to eavesdrop on them to know that they were talking behind her back. they were the ones to criticize her the most, harsher than any media outlet. and they were the ones who had led her to evan.

evan, the guy she thought was in love with her. the man who had cheated on her after just a month of dating. the millionaire heir who couldn’t even be bothered enough to ask why his drunk girlfriend was gone and currently having a panic attack in a public bathroom.

instead it was a random guy, who she didn’t recognize, who asked her for the first time a decent human question. “i don’t mean to overstep but are you okay?”

a small sob left her lips as she tried to wipe away her tears to get a better view of the man who had just asked her a question. her mind was blurry with the amount she had drank to forget all the problems that were going on and except his silhouette she couldn’t make out much.

she tried to say something, her mouth opening but all that came out of her lips were small sobs that her body tried to stifle. knowing that she wouldn’t be able to speak one word, she nodded even though it was clear that she was anything but okay.

“are you sure?” he asked again, not wanting to overstep any boundaries before comforting the woman in front of him.

again she nodded even if her heart was screaming no.

“you don’t seem very well.”

she shrugged, swallowing another of her sobs. her life was going down the drain and she couldn’t even admit that she wasn’t fine. her head was spinning and starting to hurt from all this crying but at the same time her brain couldn’t stop and her eyes just wouldn’t go dry. as if she was crying all the liquid of her body.

she contemplated whether she should just stand up and go, leave the man but her body was exhausted from all the tears it had shed. she probably wouldn’t move till and would be forced to be carried out of here.

the least thing she expected though was for the mystery man to rummage through his pockets and hand her a tissue. it wasn’t that she didn’t have the idea of drying her face but it had just been her luck to go cry on the one toilet that did not have any tissue anymore.

she hesitantly accepted it, wiping the tears away and drying her cheeks a bit.

“do you wanna tell me why you’re crying?”

amara sighed, leaning closer to the wall, her head hitting the cold cement. “i would. but i can’t stop crying,” she managed to croak out, quiet sobs interrupting each of her words.

“do you want me to get someone?”

“nope. it’ll probably stop soon. i just drank too much and it’s the alcohol leaving my body through my eyes.”

in a normal situation she would have laughed at her joke now but even that her body couldn’t manage. her drunk-self was always too emotional. her heart lightened though when she heard a short sound, a small amusing snort. at least he could laugh for the both of them.

“you don’t have to worry. it’s not the first time i’m this drunk. i just never remember when it last happened,” amara replied. and she then noticed that she was finally able to form normal sentences again. without sobbing between words every time.

“yeah, i think that’s what alcohol does to you.” he laughed and then crouched down to sit down next to her. as he looked at her, scanning her and memorising every detail of her as if he was scared of forgetting it. even if he knew he would never. “aren’t you cold?” he inquired, remembering the chill air from outside and remarking how the dress she was wearing was not providing her any cover against the wind from outside.

“i was forced to wear this. i’d have chosen another dress if i had been given the choice.”

he contemplated for a moment and slipped his jacket off before putting it over her. his cologne was strong, but it somehow gave comfort and amara instantly felt the warmth spread through her body as she adjusted the jacked over her shoulders.

“that’s a dior jacket. i’m going to ruin it with my tears and makeup and these are not cheap.”

“well, they’re cheaper than a new conscience and mine would never leave me alone if i left a woman crying in the men’s bathroom who’s also freezing.”

“this is not the women’s bathroom?”

he shook his head. “nope, it’s the men’s bathroom.”

“are you sure?”

“very. but don’t worry, practically no one uses it anyway. there’s one that is closer so everyone forgets about this one.”

she nodded, a small ‘hmm’ leaving her lips.

“is this your first gala?”

“nope. you?”

“no but i tend to avoid them if i can.” that was new for her. she hadn’t met one person tonight who seemed not excited to be here. no one to share that feeling with and now she had.

“i get that. it’s not really my scene.”

“mine neither.”

silence again. their eyes were just staring at the ceiling, who knows what was going on in their brains this time.

“how long till you would have finally snapped?” he then asked.

“i would have probably lashed out to the next person who asked me about my boyfriend again,” amara responded and he noticed the way her body language changed at the mention of her partner.

he sniggered.

“do you have a girlfriend?” amara questioned before taking it back again. “you don’t have to answer. i just realized how random all this is.”

he laughed, making amara feel good about herself. “no. i had one but we broke up. mutual agreement.”

she sighed, her mind flashing back to when she caught evan cheating. “you got lucky. my boyfriend cheated on me.”

“oh, that’s shitty.”

“i know. and the biggest problem is that my friends are all advising me to reconcile with him because it was just a mistake. but i feel like i’m not giving myself enough respect if i just forgive him.”

“you have shitty friends. i don’t really know what to do in that situation but i would tell you: if his only excuse was that he was drunk, then he’s not worth it. you should think about whether the good outweighs the bad enough. and then if you really love him. listen to yourself.”

she managed to smile weakly at him. “that was the first real advice i’ve gotten in days.”

he chuckled. “i was told i could make a very good therapist.”

“you aren’t?”

“i wish i was. would have made my life easier if the entire world didn’t know who i was,” he admitted and amara felt kind of stupid for thinking he wasn’t a celebrity. this was a high class gala and why would they just let random people in there. of course everyone here was known for something.

she stared at the wall. “do you ever wish sometimes you hadn’t made it? that you had just stayed normal and lived the average life?”

that question was certainly her biggest what-if. what if she hadn’t made it? what if beyoncé had never told the world how amazing she was and that she was talented? what if she had just continued to live her life the way it was and pursue her business degree?

“... sometimes. i guess feeling normal again for a day would do me some good. it would make my life much easier at the moment.” he paused. “but at the same time, the only reason why i got where i am today is because i truly wanted it. i knew the risks and the disadvantages of that life and i still worked my ass of to get where i am today. because i truly wanted it. it’s about how much you want it and what you’re willing to sacrifice for it.”

again, another silence pause. amara thought about his words. he was right in many ways but the aspect of sacrifice was bothering her. hadn’t she already sacrificed enough to make it where she was?

“what’s your star job?” he asked her nonchalantly.

“i’m a singer. you?”

“footballer.”

she smiled at him. “we’re quite the pair, aren’t we?”

he smiled at her. they were.

“i always doubt why i’m here,” she confessed, a bit taken back how easy it felt to admit it to the person in front of her when it felt hard to even admit it to her parents. she would never be able to admit it to her influencer friends and she felt way too guilty to talk to liyah about her worries. “the scrutiny of everything, the demands, the way everybody keeps comparing me to people like Beyoncé when i haven’t even reached my own level yet. and all those people judging me for every faux-pas that i do. i feel like i’m suffocating.”

“well, what’s your reason for wanting to make music? what’s the reason that pushed you to become a singer?” he asked her sincerely. amara stared at the wall — she had never even asked herself what had truly pushed her to do it. she had just done it. “let me tell you mine for football.”

“since i was little, all i dreamed of was football. i was this small little boy from a poor neighbourhood and the only thing i wanted to do was play football. soon, it felt like i only lived for it because it was the only thing i practically breathed. i wanted it much more than anything else and i knew what i was giving up when i was accepted to play pro. privacy, normalcy — all those things that i had taken for granted suddenly became a privilege that no money on the world can buy. but football meant more to me. it was my dream and my passion. i wouldn’t give it up for anything on the world. what’s your reason?”

amara cleared her throat. “i wanted to make music. after i hurt my knee in dancing and the doctor said i might never dance again, i needed a distraction so i started singing. i didn’t realise how much that distraction became my passion till i started to forget about dancing. i loved music, writing lyrics, experimenting with it and just singing — it made me happy. and suddenly my dream shifted to making it in the music industry. i wanted people to sing my songs, brighten their day with it. and i didn’t care what i would be losing to make it. because making it outweighed the disadvantages so much.”

he smiled at her. “and that’s why you made it. because you wanted it. you weren’t gifted and born into that environment. you actually wanted it. if making music is the only thing you truly care about than screw what the others think and what the media say. you didn’t come to read magazines but to lighten the world up with your music. and you should focus on that.”

she nodded, not truly knowing what to say. he was right, she didn’t become an artist to entertain the medias but rather her public. and even if it was just one person, it was enough for her to feel like she made an impact.

“did you ever doubt?” she asked him hesitantly. “i mean to be that smart, you must have doubted at some point to become this wise about it. were you ever in this situation?”

he stretched a bit before answering, “i got called up to play for the national team which is like the biggest honour ever for a football player. and during an important competition, i was the last one to take the penalty and i missed which got us out of the competition. and now the entire country hates me and somehow it’s my skin colour they seem to blame.”

she sighed. “that’s the problem with fans. they switch up way too easily. but if it’s any condolence, you said the reason you made it was because football was your passion. and it’s not some racist fake fans that are going to change that. if it makes you feel better, i am your fan. and i don’t care how many penalties you have already missed.”

he laughed. “you don’t even know what club or nationality i’m playing for.”

amara giggled. “i don’t have to, to know that there are not two players like you out there.”

suddenly aware that the two must have already spent an eternity in that room, she stood up, cleaning her dress a bit. “i think we should go back before they start to look for us.”

“yeah we should,” he replied, ignoring the pang he felt when she gave him back his jacket. he didn’t want her to go.”

“i hope you’ll score lots of goals and prove to them that you’re the best.” she turned around, trying to save a bit of her makeup to not raise too many questions.

“and i hope, you’ll make it to the top, no matter if with a boyfriend or fake friends.” he smiled at her one last time and then she was gone as he stared at the mirror.

kylian really wished he had persuaded her that night to leave with him. he would have spared her a lot of pain.

amara being in new york gave kylian time to think their timeline over. but it also opened the door to hidden memories that he thought he had locked away for good. and his and amara’s first encounter was part of that. 

he regretted letting her go that night. they had spent three hours together just for them to act as if it had never happened. he wasn’t mad though. because he knew she was drunk and that the chances of her remembering were low. yet he had still held out hope when he had seen her again at that bistro that maybe, just maybe she could recognize him. but when she hadn’t, he had been okay with that — their story would just begin again. 

he just wished he hadn’t advised her to go back to evan. the pain and tears he could have spared her from by telling her to leave him after he had cheated on her — but on the other hand how should he have known that evan would turn out to be a serial cheater (the worst type of men in kylian’s opinion) and hurt amara more than he would have thought?

there were lots of what ifs in their relationship; some what ifs even to the building of their relation. he didn’t like to believe in paradox universes and the possibility of multiverse but in this case he liked to believe that in another universe, maybe amara had left that night with him. and she would never have had to suffer that way because he would have treated her like a queen. kylian liked to believe that in another universe there was an amara, who did not have to build so many walls around her because she was hurt too often. that she was happy. 

and to say that kylian missed his girlfriend was probably an understatement. even with the many facetime calls they had, the longing for her did not stop or calm down. her absence had been remarked by everyone but he had felt it the most. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla was missing around him and no matter how often he secretly showered with her body wash or used her skincare (a habit he had taken after being forced by her) it just wasn’t the same. 

he sat comfortably on the long white couch that graced his living room, his eyes not leaving the clock above him. excitement and nervosity rushed through his body at the thought that amara would finally come home. come back into his arms that would probably tackle her with cuddles. the bed definitely felt cold and empty when she wasn’t there. 

hours passed and passed as he waited for her message to tell him that she had landed. in the time that he had waited for said message, he had cooked, cleaned his living room, rearranged his wardrobe — all things that amara usually did. and sitting on the couch made him recall all those movie nights they had had or their first lazy sunday where he had managed to burn an egg. they had left memories everywhere, symbols and anecdotes of their love story. 

a soft yellowish glow cast a warm light over the apartment as kylian extended his legs to get more comfortable. it had been a long day for him and the rushed feelings he had felt throughout the day because he anticipated her return so much had clearly exhausted him. next to that, training had been much more demanding as they were facing newcastle in the champions league next week and they needed to win. 

it was past nine when tiredness finally overcame him and his eyelids closed without him even noticing. despite his best efforts to stay awake and pick amara up from the airport to truly welcome her home, his fatigue made it first to him, his breathing steady as he fell into a light sleep. 

thirty minutes passed with kylian sleeping before the door of his apartment silently opened and a very tired but happy amara stepped in, her suitcase trailing behind her. her heart grew twice its size when she saw kylian asleep on the sofa, his phone still in his hands. like kylian, amara had also been suffering under their separation, missing him deeply. no hoodie or sweatshirt that smelled like him could make up for the coldness she woke up to in those past few days and she had learned that the hard way. 

she was tired, very tired, but still her mind felt alive as she let herself quietly in, making sure to not wake the french striker up. the way he laid so peacefully on the couch, sleeping calmly, amara felt butterflies storm her stomach again and her knees going weak. a small smile formed on her lips at the sight of him wanting to stay up just for her arrival. she pushed her suitcase to the side, careful to not wake him before staring at the image in front of her again. it was just the perfect domestic scene. 

it didn’t last long though as kylian began to stir. his sleep had only been light and the moment he his nose had picked up a faint smell of cinnamon and vanilla with a hint of vanilla, he had immediately been reminded of home. and that could only mean one thing — amara was home. the typical scent that usually greeted him when he came home from training and his body immediately relaxed because it was comfortable. 

he blinked a bit, his eyes accustoming to the light before his view got clear and he was met with the sight of his girlfriend. there she was in front of him, dressed in sweatpants and in his hoodie with her hair quickly brushed back and somehow she was even more beautiful than kylian remembered. 

“t’es la,” he muttered quietly under his breath, stretching his head. 

“i took an earlier flight. i wanted to surprise you,” she replied in the same low voice, leaning down to press a soft peck on his lips. god, how she had missed him and being close to him. “tu m’as tellement manqué.”

“viens ici,” he pulled her closer, his arms immediately engulfing her into a hug and warmth spread through their bodies. the feeling of safety and comfort was back. 

it was sweet the way both realised they gone through the same things, the same weird syndromes. amara had come home earlier because she had missed him so much and both couldn’t bear to be apart any longer. anticipation and longing faded away as they hugged but love still grew. 

“were you waiting for me?” amara questioned quietly, intertwining her hands as they laid down on the sofa. 

“i wanted to pick you up, welcome you home,” he replied sleepily, his grip tightening around her to keep her close to him. she turned around to softly peck his lips again. 

she smiled softly at him. “t’es adorable,” she commented in the same tone, sleep starting to come over her too. “can we watch the frog princess? i want to see a disney movie.”

“the frog princess again?” the french striker groaned lightly, hiding his face in her neck. 

“how can you say no to tiana’s beignets?” amara asked him jokingly, knowing that kylian knew she just wanted to see prince naveen. “and it’s been so long since we watched disney.”

his eyebrows furrowed slightly, not particularly in the mood for a disney movie. even if he wouldn’t admit it, he had taken a liking to her 90s and 2000s rom-coms but all he wanted for the moment was to cuddle his girlfriend. and watching the frog princess would mean he would have to share her attention with ‘the prince naveen’.

“the only reason you want to watch this is because you want to eye prince naveen,” kylian teased her, a slight sarcastic undertone as he put the remote out of reach for her to grab it. 

amara snorted. “you’re saying that as if that’s something to be ashamed of. i’ll proudly stare at prince naveen and his hot face.”

“so you want to watch a move to watch a hot animated guy while your real hot boyfriend is laying next to you?” he retorted sarcastically which earned him a small nudge on his arm. 

it was late, way too late to start a movie now and all kylian actually wanted was to fall asleep with her in his arms. after sleeping the entire week to a cold, empty space next to him his heart paced quicker at the thought of waking up again with her next to him. 

and at the same time, he knew how much disney movies meant to her. she had explained it to him as a symbol of her childhood, where they were the first movies she had ever watched because back then it had been all they could afford. and if it made her happy right now — who was he to deny her from being happy? he was fine as long as she was wrapped in his arms. 

he rolled his eyes, a faint, fatigue-plagued smile tugging at the corners of his lips, as he pressed the remote to open disney + and find the movie. “next time, i get to choose,” he muttered, secretly smiling at the way amara’s face lit up. she cuddled into his chest, warmth spreading through her body, but not without pressing one last tender kiss on his cheek.

kylian reached for the remote again and started the movie, the room instantly lightening up as the title sequence began, with the famous disney castle intro illuminating their screen. as the movie began to play out, starting with melodious tunes and the film’s soundtrack, kylian found himself falling asleep again. 

with amara’s faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla, that so often reminded him of home, the comfort and warmth that he usually felt around her was back and their safe space around each other was restored again. 

without even realizing, his eyelids suddenly felt heavier than before and whenever he blinked, his eyes stayed close for an extra second. amara was too invested into the movie to notice the way kylian was falling asleep but she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t fighting off fatigue too. especially because just like for kylian, feeling safe around each other and a comforting atmosphere were the best conditions to sleep in. 

kylian had fallen asleep a long time ago when amara’s brain finally succumbed to her body’s demand to sleep. the soft glow of the tv screen along with the yellowish glow of the light painted their faces, still cuddled together on the couch. amara reached for the remote to turn off the tv before she turned to face kylian who was sleeping peacefully, his breath steady and calm. 

“je t’aime tellement,” amara mumbled sleepily, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before she also fell into a deep slumber her body very much needed. after several days or longing and sleeping next to the cold spaced in their beds, they were very happy to have each other back. especially when they knew that this would last for eternities. as kylian liked to say “nous deux, c’est pour l’éternité.”

[beanibon]

Bottom!98Knives x DomAFAB!Reader

Part Two

Summary: you have endured Knives countless abusive speeches ever since Vash convinced you to babysit his brother while he ran errands in the town. Eventually it became too much, to the point you had to put your mutt in place.

warning: this fic is an absolute kinkfest, I apologise. Also heavily Trimax implied (mostly anatomy wise not actual spoilers).

TW: oral (F!receiving), face-riding, overstimulation, pegging, hate sex, inexperienced sex, fake orgasm (gotta humble knives somehow), cockwarming, creampie, sex toys, bondage, gagging, degradation, choking.

Another bitter lecture on why humans were an insufferable species, those words filled with venom that bounced off your slouched shoulders. Head already pounding with a headache, you had regretted agreeing to watch Vash's spiteful twin, bearing his verbal abuse on what appeared to be a daily basis now.

Yet despite those words spat your way, like you were the very reason of his hatred for humankind, Knives still found himself begrudging spooning your smaller form. The only issue with that was you were still subjected to his rants, until they were all that filled your dreams, dreams that use to be full of nothing but pure happiness.

"Incompetent species your kind are, useless and disgusting to gaze upon. Your very existence plagues this world, may you all burn one day." You rolled your eyes, yet kept silent about how his actions contradicted his words. The arm slung lazily over your waist as your back was pressed uncomfortably into his chest, his aura suffocating.

"Do you ever shut up, I'm trying to sleep and you're grating voice is causing my ears to bleed." You sighed, voice bitter as Knives squeezed your waist.

"You dare speak to me in such a tone? I will make sure you regret every word spok-"

"You piss me off," Knives' taller form was now beneath you, the rage on his face obvious from your position a top of him. "Acting high and mighty, but then crawling into my bed like a bitch in heat. You're fooling no one bar yourself."

Knives looked furious, teetering on the edge of rage if you persisted your outburst. He was furious, until the moment you tore that silk nightgown from your body.

"Someone ought to put you in your place," You hissed, fingers embedding themselves into his platinum blonde hair, pulling at tuffs until his face collided with your cunt. As your weight sunk onto him, squashing his face underneath you and the pillow he rested upon previously. "I know you don't require sleep, that's one positive we now have all night to make sure you're returned to your brother a dumbafied mess."

The growl against your clit had your thighs shaking, suffocating Knives between them. When he made no move to advance in your pleasure you took it upon yourself, grinding your hips against his contorted face. Chasing your high as Knives clawed at your body, mind indecisive as whether to stop you or indulge you.

It took a few minutes until you felt something wet slot its way inside your folds, lips suckling at your intimate flesh. Knives had decided to indulge your humanly needs, hands gripping your ass, a need to dominate even in this particular predicament. But he'd soon find out you had no intention of allowing him an inch power, stamping out that idea like embering flames.

You greatly despised the hands holding your waist, dragging you along his awaiting mouth. None but impressed, you raised your hips to break away from his reciprocation, bile in your throat as he slammed you back down hungrily. So you let him have his fun, manipulating him to believe he had the upper hand, that he was the one bringing you unrelented pleasure as you moaned sweetly.

In reality it was painfully obvious that Knives had no idea what he was doing, having never touched or seen a woman's body. His hungry lapping was sloppy, unsure of what to focus on, sure his teasing suckling against your flaps had you keening enthusiastically but that's where it stopped. Forcing you to press your neglected clit sharply against his nose, grinding against it to offer some relief. Knives may not have been pleased with this, but it didn't matter, soon he'd be finding out just how 'in control' the fucker truly was.

Once it hit the ten minute mark you knew you weren't going to orgasm any time soon, and as embarrassing it was you didn't have a choice to stop this unpleasant mouthing. Face red as you let out an loud moan, thighs clenching Knives face as you faked an orgasm, quick to remove yourself as your eyes glared at the man smirking at you. God he looked like an idiot, and how you desperately wanted to make him whimper like one.

"You humans are such simple creatures, chasing your disgusting pleasure highs and here you are calling me a bitch in heat, when you so beautifully cum." You wanted to gag, perhaps even admit you faked it to get him to stop embarrassing himself.

Without so much as a single word you got up, crouching down to grab a locked crate from underneath your bed. Knives watched with a quirked brow, sitting up as he crossed his legs, amusement in the form of sly smirk.

"Giving me the silent treatment? You truly are petty," Unknown objects were beginning to line up on the bed's edge, Knives frowning at them in confusion. "What are these?"

"You'll know soon enough, but this bitch in heat wishes for you to properly fuck her, think your Lordship could treat me with his cock?" Your voice was laced with something, malice? No, that couldn't be it.

Knives smirked, chuckling as fingers propped your delicate face to look at him. "Who am I to deny my sweet human bitch?"

The room was filled with desperate pleas, moans soon muffled harshly by the ball gag slammed against teeth. Nails dug into the sheets, clawing frantically to try and escape.

Knives felt his drool pool around the ball gag, tears filled his blue eyes as he whimpered, jolting at another harsh smack to his ass.

"I don't know whether to be disgusted or amused that you're getting off to this," That silky voice, belonging to the only devil present in the room as you smiled wickedly down at his form, running the whip teasingly along his cock. "Next time, don't test my patience."

Another snap of the whip, Knives crying against the plastic gag, trying to crawl away from your sexual torture. Only you brought him cruelling back, pulling him arms back as you clicked a pair of pink, fluffy cuffs around his wrists.

Laughter made Knives shiver, eyes wide and filled with fear as you leaned against his arched back, fingers pressed delicately against his rim. "Good thing you've already cummed for me three times, otherwise this wouldn't be as enjoyable. For you at least." The way Knives tensed had you giggling, shoving his face into the pillow as you angled the strap on against his prepared hole.

You could hear the frantic pleas from the man, muffled as he begged for you to stop. Except they only acted to urge you on, slamming your hips into his anus, earning a high pitched moan from the usual calculated and cruel twin. Satisfaction at having turned him into a drooling, moaning mess beneath you as you pounded into him at ruthless pace.

Knives with eyes full of beautiful, bliss out tears, looked back at you, not having the strength to muster even a glare as you winked at him. He wanted to curse you, strangle you for withering him to a submissive being completely at your mercy. Yet despite it all, Knives couldn't help but find some pleasure at how you had him drooling a muffled version of your name at each thrust against his prostate.

"You likin it? What a filthy excuse of a creature, indulging in such a disgusting act of self pleasure." Your words reflected his own, cruel and condescending. Those deceitful fingers drawing lines along his spine, causing his back to arch against the touch.

Leaning against his back, breasts dug into shoulders as your teeth nibbled at his ears. Laboured breathing sounded heavenly, eyes rolled into his skull as he covered the sheets beneath you two in bioluminescent cum.

"Such a filthy whore."

"Please....no more...I can't."

"You can't? I thought you were a superior being, stronger than any mere mortal that walked this hellscape?" Knives whimpered, hiding his tears has you dragged your hips excruciatingly slow along his pelvis.

Hands placed against his chest, fingers pinching his nipples as you stilled, appreciating how his cock twitched against your cervix. You had to admit that Knives looks angelic beneath you, the feathers sprouting at random an added extra as he struggled to keep eye contact.

"You've satiated your desires, please you can't need anymore." Knives hated begging, but what else was he to do when it came to appeasing the succubus milking him until he was dry.

"My sweet Knives, you should know by now," You leaned forward, pulling the collar tighter around his throat untilheet out strangled cough. "I'm insatiable."

Knives could no longer see straight, cum dribbling endlessly from his throbbing cock, encased in your hands as you pumped the fleshlight up and down along his shaft. His mouth was wrapped around one of your nipples, not like he noticed at this point, numb to overstimulation.

A stuttering cry sounded from the blonde, releasing your nipple at the pain of coming again, fresh tears staining his feather covered cheeks. Those soft, silk like feathers encased your body, their touch gentle against your skin.

Collapsing against your chest, face buried between those warm pillows as he sobbed. Incoherent word vomit spilled from his bruised, drool coated lips. Shivering at the way you giggled, finally freeing his flaccid cock from the textured fleshlight.

Taking the collar off his neck, smiling proudly as Knives sucked in much needed air, thankful to be able to breath properly. You moved him to the side, his body limp as you circled his cock with a finger, watching it stand yet again in painful anticipation. Knives whimpered, wondering what other cruel torture you had in mind, no longer surprised at your insatiable desires.

"Still wanting more? My, my, my how adorable you are my sweet slut." Your voice was no longer cruel, you may have whipped his ass raw, choked the air from his lungs and fucked him into another dimension, but you no longer had that malicious undertone. Instead opting to sweetly degrade him, praising him for how he came for you over and over again, getting hard after each touch to his cock.

Legs hoisted over his head, Knives tried to focus on what you were doing, panting as he felt something enter him again. It was large, not to mention unnaturally wide as he grunted at the intrusive toy. What had his body convulse and contort with pain and pleasure was the intense vibrations against his prostate, drawn out whines filling the small room yet again as his legs rested against your shoulders.

"Good boy, now he can't forgot that gorgeous cock of yours." Something snapped against his tip, the small band squeezing the head of his pulsating dick. "Just to make sure you last as long as possible, don't want you coming too soon, especially now that you're on the verge of breaking."

You re-inserted his cock into the fleshlight, only this time pressing a few buttons on the side, intense vibrations causing Knives hips to buck up, back arching. You flipped him over, laying on your back as you wrapped your legs around Knives face.

"Now eat me out properly this time, I want to cover that face in my cum, mark you as my personal whore." You cooed, fisting tufts on his hair as grinded his face against your dripping cunt.

This time Knives knew what to do, mustering enough energy to suck and lick your clit. His actions were slow, sluggish as the smallest of movements were agonisingly painful to perform. Releasing your clit, Knives began lapping at your pussy, pressing a shaking thumb against your bud of nerves.

Moans spilled from those cruel lips, along with praises and mocking coos. Yet despite the way you mocked him, Knives couldn't help swelling with exhausted pride at finally pleasing you, hoping this torture would now end.

And thankfully it did, the moment you crushed his head between your quivering thighs, gushing over Knives fucked out face, you halted the devices vibrations. Freeing his abused cock and anus from their toys, Knives collapsed wings wrapping themselves around his body as if to protect himself from your satiated lust.

Gentle hands brushed themselves along those wings, weight sat upon his back as he caught his breath. Knives prayed to whatever holy being that you had had enough, eyes drooping at the exhaustion tugging at his limbs. Arms encased his feathery form, your warm body pressed against his back as kisses were placed along any exposed patch of skin. Humming filled his ears, drifting him into a much needed sleep.

"Heya Y/N! Hope Knives behaved last night, so sorry about leaving you with him again." Vash, finally back from whatever errand he was running, stood awkwardly at your door.

A smile tugged at your lips, cruel and devilish. The look had Vash confused as you stepped aside to let him in, leading him to the living room.

There, collapsed and sprawled out on soft, velvet couch was his sore, strained twin brother, face contorted as the discomfort of moving had him remain in place. Not even Vash's gentle greeting stirred Knives, who was still covered in last nights sins, too exhausted to even make it to the shower.

"Is he okay?" Vash asked quietly, noticing the many tear stains on Knives cheeks.

"Oh he's fine," You waved off Vash's concern, pouring warm water into a mug. "He was very well behaved last night, the most obedient he's ever been actually!"

Wings sprouted from Knives instantly, startling the younger twin. Knives face was bright red, hidden by the pillow that covered his face as the feathers quivered in excitement at the praise. His body reacting eagerly as if you'd take him then and there, disregarding his stupid brother's presence.

"You might have to carry him home though, he's exhausted from helping me move some furniture around." You lied, sliding some freshly made tea towards the Humanoid Typhoon, blowing to cool your own drink.

"But everything looks the same? What furniture did you move?" Vash asked innocently, warming his hand on the mug.

You quirked a brow at Knives, catching his gaze sent a shiver along his spine. "Just rearranged a few things in my room."

[oransloran]

Watching SM:ATSV, cause it's been a long time, and I need a pick-me-up. And I've noticed how Miles, Gwen, and Spots' stories are all connected by one theme.

"Being Good Enough"/Being put down by other people's perception, or expectation, of them, and finding a way to overcome that.

They all do what they do because of someone else's idea of them. Spot becomes more powerful/dangerous because of Miles' "Just a villain of the week!" Comment. Because nobody else in his life is taking him seriously anymore. He doesn't know who he is now because he was forced to be the Spot. It doesn't matter what he was before, and he believes what he is now is what he'll always be to everybody else. Spot thinks he will never be taken seriously ever again, and so he acts on that.

Spot takes initiative to change himself not because he actually found anything wrong with himself, but because he took problem with some surface level jab/comment to his abilities as a person. A final comment that broke the back to his patience. He didn't wanna be taken lightly anymore. He will be the number nemesis to his Spider-Man if that's the last thing he does. To finally show everybody that he isn't some joke. To show everybody what they think of him has never been more false, because he is capable of hurting multiple, MULTIPLE people across many worlds, and he will do just that to be feared like he thinks he should be. Just like he thinks he should become a criminal at the start of the movie because of the discrimination he's gotten.

Miles doesn't wanna disappoint his parents, and others, like Gwen, for not being who they think he is. So then he tries to do what they want, what they expect of him because he thinks that's the only way for them to accept him. But he is also struggling with who he wants to be, and who other people want him to be.

Yet he cannot betray himself, and what he stands for. What he has built himself up to be. Miles has been pushed, and tugged into so many directions, he has been told over, and over again who he's supposed to be (by Miguel, by Gwen, By Peter, By his parents, and by so many others), and because he didn't comply, he was betrayed. Even though those close go him thought it was what was best for him, that they had all the good intentions in the world to choose who he is for him. It obviously wasn't. And realizing that bending himself over for people who won't do the same for him was not worth it.

He wanted to be with his friends, he wanted to be with Gwen, but he also wanted to be with his family. He wanted to bake two cakes, and have them both. But that meant he had to throw away everything he is, everything he thought he knew/wanted. Forced to sit back, and just let things happen. (LIKE THE FIRST MOVIE WHEN GOING TO SHUT DOWN THE COLLIDER, AND PETER WAS GONNA STAY BEHIND, AND MILES WAS WEBBED TO THE CHAIR. OH. THIS FUCKING MOVIE FRANCHISE). He had to choose either between his family, and friends, but he didn't want to choose because he knew there was a way to have both. He just needs to figure out the how, (and the how being that trans-dimensional watch).

Like Miles says in the movie. Who decides what he is, or who gets to tell him what. He's his own person. His own Spider-Man.

Gwen doesn't want to be seen as a murderer by her dad, and as a disappointment to Jess, and by extension Miguel(though I won't be talking much on him). So that leads to her, throughout the entire movie, to be constantly trying to escape her decisions. From showing her dad her identity, to going to meet Miles on her mission, to leading Miles into Pavtir's dimension, to holding Miles back from the canon event. And when finally when she accepts she cannot run away anymore, it's already too late to go back since Miles realizes her betrayal.

Miles is someone who Gwen cannot handle looking at her any differently. Cause she knows he thinks so highly of her, like no nobody else, that even at the slightest change to how he thinks about her makes her so distinctively sad, and desperate to be there for him while also trying to keep the peace with her employer, and mentor.

Gwen was so strung-up in the expectations Jess had for her, she thought lying was the best option for keeping everybody she had around close, or maybe the only thing she could do was lie. Because at that time she thought she was doing the right thing. She had the best intentions, she thought she what she believed in, and what she was doing was for a really good cause. A cause that helped people, people that got her, so they didn't lose their connections. Even if that did mean an unnecessary death, or deaths, that could've been stopped would happen. And maybe if she did that enough times then maybe, MAYBE she couldn't lose the only connection to the one person she thought would always understand her. And maybe that means they get to meet again!

So when she got the chance to finally go back to 1610, she kept trying to do both things at once without telling Miles about what's going on because she thought that was better than actually trying to explain anything (because that went so well for her the first time with her dad).

Jess was always the one telling Gwen that they'd be forced to kick her out "if Miguel knew", when she had direct power over if she told Miguel or not. Knowing damn well he already likely knew. So when Jess showed up, Gwen was constantly trying to save face, was always trying to push herself out to be something she's not. Same thing with Gwen's dad! Trying to be someone she wasn't for his sake, and when she finally let him in on who she truly was, it backfired.

(Also can we talk about how Jess manipulates, and takes advantage of Gwen's need for parental guidance/support. Cause Gwen is definitely a victim of the grown-ups around her. They really looked at this traumatized teenager, and went "yeah. We should definitely threaten this one to comply to our mission, and if she doesn't we'll send her home to a dad who wants her arrested :)". LIKE FUCK OFF?? Love to see the ones combating the system are teenagers effected by shitty actions done by said system.)

AND ALSO. What I love so much about the movie is that it's so pro-individual, in a sense, bare with me, cause it doesn't matter what has happened to you, what has changed you, and it doesn't matter who others think you're supposed to be. If YOU, yourself, know who you are

No sudden powers, no costume, no trauma/canon event gets to force you to change into something, into someone, you are not. It feels as if it flips the scene where in ITSV Peter tells Miles that he doesn't have a choice, and that he's Spider-man no matter what he does, or tries to change, upside down.

Miles is only ever changed because he doesn't force himself to be Spider-Man, it's because he BELIEVES he is. He believes in himself that yes, he wants to do this, not just for anybody else, but for himself, and this potential he holds. Miles believes he deserves to be Spider-Man because he chooses to be Spider-Man. Because he believes, and chooses for that title to be his responsibility!

He was given the opportunity, and he took it. And NOBODY ELSE is gonna rip that away from him. And nothing that he does, or that others do, is gonna rip that away from him too.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Breath of the Sky Ch 11 (SS meets BotW)

Summary: When Princess Zelda goes to the Spring of Courage to pray, accompanied by her appointed knight, a giant magical cog spitting out a goddess is the last thing she expects, but it is what she gets. Meanwhile, the Spirit Maiden Zelda is trying to figure out what the heck is happening and where her missing chosen hero is.

(AO3 link)

Chapter 11: Fledgling Friendships

Zelda walked with haste, her mind so preoccupied with everything she’d just learned. She was caught in a confused haze, head whirling with too many words and images, to the point that she couldn’t focus on a single coherent train of thought. It felt like when she’d started to recover her memories – her mind had been so utterly overwhelmed with an entirely new life and revelation that she’d been practically catatonic for a few hours sometimes.

Speaking of being completely distracted, Zelda gasped in surprise when she nearly collided right into someone as she rounded the corner. The person had quick reflexes, taking a step back, and it took her a minute to recognize him.

It was that knight from before. The one with the Master Sword.

“Oh!” she said softly, eyes wide. “You’re—”

She paused, realizing several things at once. First, her interactions with him had been amidst a high amount of stress and emotions, meaning she’d been fairly rude, and second, she had absolutely no idea what his name was.

“U-uh…” she continued awkwardly. “I don’t think I ever actually got your name, sorry.”

The knight watched her carefully, face decidedly neutral as he blinked a few times, and then he said in a soft voice, “Link.”

Zelda stared.

Of course his name is Link, her mind whispered. Link and Zelda, here to save the world from Demise once again. What a cruel joke.

Had the Golden Goddesses even done anything to try to stop this? She barely remembered anything about them, even with all her recovered memories of a life past. Did they even care? Somehow she couldn’t figure it out – she felt like a part of her knew they were distantly invested, but she also reasoned out that they’d left her in charge of everything, which implied that they… weren’t paying attention anymore.

She didn’t even know. All she knew was that she was screwing up this conversation like she had the others.

“Right. Link.” She said, trying to gather her thoughts. “Um. I’m Zelda.”

The two stared at each other a moment, and then Zelda wanted to smack herself. Hastily, she shook her hands with an embarrassed laugh. “But you already—I mean—wow okay, I just—”

She sighed, cutting herself off. “I’m sorry. I’m—this is a lot. I wasn’t—I wasn’t prepared for any of this.”

The strange knight watched her, and his lack of reaction made her a little uneasy. His silence reminded her of her own Link, but her husband was so expressive, she could practically read his thoughts on his face. This one was very much the opposite.

What… had they done to him? Was he just like this? No one was naturally just like this.

“I guess it would be confusing to call me Zelda, what with the princess and all,” she said, trying to keep a conversation going. “But um… it’s nice to meet you. Formally, I mean. Because like… you know, we didn’t… I mean we met before, but I never got your name and there was a lot of stuff going on.”

The knight nodded subtly.

Zelda wondered if perhaps this was anxiety, or the same breeding as the other guards who had knelt and not even looked her in the eye. At least he was making eye contact.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, this Link also seemed to realize it, and his eyes widened as he clumsily fell to his knee.

Zelda had to laugh at the maneuver, feeling equal parts guilty and amused. “Hey, it’s okay, stop doing that. I’m… we’re going to be working together a lot, I think. Please. Can we just be friends?”

Slowly, the knight glanced up at Zelda, timidness evident in the way his eyebrows were raised and how he hid his eyes under his hair. Zelda smiled, crouching down to be at eye level with him, and the motion made him pull back just a hair, eyes widening.

“I promise I don’t bite,” Zelda laughed. “Well. I mean… okay, if you asked my husband he’d say I bite but—”

The knight’s face flushed, and Zelda realized what she’d just said, hastily tripping over herself to explain, “I mean—like—like as in I can be aggressive, but—oh my gosh, that’s not—I’m—”

Just shut up, you’re making it worse!

“Ugh, this is so stupid,” Zelda finally said aloud, smacking herself in the face and rising. “I’m sorry, let’s just try again. I want to be friends, okay?”

The knight watched her for what felt like an eternity before he slowly stood. It seemed like it was the best reaction she was going to get out of him.

“So anyway,” Zelda continued awkwardly. Trying to have a conversation with this teenager felt like pulling teeth. Her own Link (good grief, they’d need to find a way to differentiate) had been very quiet and shy when they’d first become friends, but he hadn’t been so understated on top of it. “I was looking for the princess. Do you know where she is?”

The knight shook his head.

Zelda hummed thoughtfully. “Well, maybe we can look for her together? You know this place better than me; I’d get absolutely lost.”

The knight swallowed, nodding slowly. When nothing else happened, Zelda motioned for them to start walking down the cavernous hallway. A few moments later she realized he wasn’t beside her. She glanced back to see if he’d just stayed put, but instead he was following her a few paces back.

"You know... the hallway's big enough we can walk beside each other. You don't have to walk behind me." She noted, waving the space beside her with a smile.

The swordsman took a shaky, fortifying breath before stepping ahead a little faster to catch up to her. He continuously glanced at her, though he kept his face decidedly neutral. Zelda had to chuckle at it – the poor thing was very anxious, wasn’t he?

Her smile faded, as she realized her earlier behavior was probably part of the reason. That and, well… all the other things.

“I’m sorry,” she reiterated. “I… remember how I said I only bite sometimes? When people I love are in danger… I mean… especially Link… I wasn’t thinking. I just reacted, you know? I’m sorry I was mean to you.”

The knight stopped abruptly, making Zelda skid to a halt. He immediately regretted his decision, awkwardly trying to resume their walk and then stopping again when Zelda didn’t move.

“What is it?” she asked.

The newer Link remained stubbornly silent. Zelda crossed her arms. “I know you can talk, Link.”

The knight shriveled subtly, looking at the floor.

Zelda watched him a while longer, confused. “What’s wrong?”

After another shuddering breath, the knight whispered, “It’s n-nothing, Your Grace. I beg your pardon for s-stopping.”

The assertive, stubborn part of Zelda swelled within her, wanting to grab this knight by the shoulders and shake him and say she wasn’t going to strike him down if he uttered a sound and that he needed to lighten up. But she held herself in check, smiling instead and holding a hand out as if to a scared child. “Well let’s keep going, then. Maybe you can tell me about the palace?”

This Link watched her hand hesitantly as the realization dawned on him, and he slowly raised his own hand in response. When his fingers delicately folded around hers, he made a motion to kneel again, and Zelda was reminded strikingly of her and Link’s conversation in the Temple of Hylia.

She quickly jerked him towards her once she had a grip on him, erasing that memory and any attempt to repeat it. The knight stumbled forward, face finally expressing terror and shock, before she caught him easily by the shoulder. Then she laughed. “That’s better! Let’s go.”

Having his hand in hers was a grounding force for Zelda, and she sighed in relief as they strolled through the hallway. His grip was stiff, though, reminding her that she really should try to ease his worries. She herself was filled with a thousand anxieties, but she didn’t want to scare him when he already seemed petrified.

She wondered how knowing his destiny had affected him. What he even expected his destiny to be.

She’d ask later. He was far too scared for such a conversation right now. And it delayed the inevitable for a while longer – befriending him meant she didn’t have to think about the king’s request… at least until she found the princess.

“So what’s your story, Link?” she asked. “My husband trained as a knight too, you know. A lot of us do on Skyloft. Was it kind of just expected for you too? My father’s the headmaster of the knight’s academy, what about your family?”

Before Link could even attempt to answer, his gaze drifted elsewhere, and Zelda tracked it to see one of the colorfully dressed guards ahead. He looked like he was heading somewhere rather than standing guard, but he quickly noticed them. For an instant his eyes were fixed on Link rather than Zelda, and then he knelt.

Wait, she recognized this guard. “Hey, you’re the guard who found us in Castle Town the other night!”

“I am, Your Grace,” he acknowledged.

For a split second there was a strange moment where the guard glanced up long enough to look somewhere between Zelda and the knight she was with, and then he looked at the ground once more.

“Thanks for the help that night,” Zelda said. “You know, with answering questions and all that.”

“It is my honor, Your Grace.”

He reminded Zelda of Impa. Her Impa. He held a very strong sense of duty and protocol but wasn’t groveling or petrified like the others. She liked him.

“Do you know where Princess Zelda is?” she asked. “Link and I were looking for her.”

“To my knowledge, Your Grace, the princess is in her quarters.”

Zelda looked around uncertainly. “Oh. Uh… do you know where that is?”

“I can take Your Grace there if you please.”

Zelda hummed thoughtfully, glancing at Link. “Do you know where it is?”

The knight swallowed and nodded.

With that settled, Zelda smiled at the guard. “We got it, thanks! I don’t want to bother you too much, I’m sure you have important duties to attend to.”

She knew better than to wait for an acknowledgement, given how everyone acted around her, so instead she tugged the swordsman along as they walked around the guard. The hallway seemed to be never ending, and it felt like the knight was dragging his feet the farther they went.

Zelda tried to ease his worries, as well as her own, by talking about anything but what she’d just discussed with the king. “So how long have you been here? Do you know the castle pretty well?”

“I can direct you, Your Grace,” came the hesitant and quiet answer.

“No, that’s not—I mean like have you been here long,” Zelda clarified.

“A few years, Your Grace.”

“Oh! So you must be pretty familiar with all this,” Zelda said cheerily. “I could never – this place is so huge. Skyloft isn’t nearly this big. It’s just… it’s really amazing seeing what our settlement turns into. I never imagined it would be this big.”

When Link didn’t comment, Zelda changed tactics. “So how long will it take to get to the princess’ quarters? I feel like you could spend a couple days just going from one side of the castle to the other.”

The swordsman stilled, eyes downcast. Zelda watched him confusedly for a moment, prompting, “What’s wrong?”

“We’re…” he muttered. “We’re going the wrong way, Your Grace.”

Zelda blinked. Then she laughed. “Well, why didn’t you tell me, silly!”

As the pair got turned around, Zelda finally decided she really did need to address the skytail in the room. “Look. I… I understand this is weird, you know? With the ceremony, with how I acted before… but… I’m… we’re going to be working together and…”

Zelda paused, feeling vulnerable and not entirely sure she liked it. But if it meant this knight would stop acting so weird, she was willing to speak a little on the matter. “This place is overwhelming to me. I’m… I’m scared too. Please don’t think that just because your people worship means that I actually am an infallible goddess. I’m just me, I promise.”

Despite her words, she got little reaction from the knight. Sighing, she looked away, but then she felt the slightest squeeze in her hand, and she belatedly realized it was Link trying to give her something to work with.

She looked back at the knight and smiled. “Well… I guess we should keep looking. Maybe you should lead the way, though.”

The knight nodded, walking ahead with her hand still in his. With their objective made clear, Zelda found herself just as silent as her companion, no longer really able to push off the thoughts that were nagging her earlier. She instead redirected her attention to examining the knight. He really held little to no resemblance to her own Link – he was thinner in build, a little shorter, his hair was lighter and longer and less fluffy, and his demeanor was practically entirely opposite. Yet… there was something about him that made her watch him, something eerily familiar and practically magnetic.

Not to mention the sword that rested on his back.

Zelda felt the wind get knocked out of her just looking at the blade. It was still distressing realizing that after everything…

Why? Why? She had planned it all so meticulously, even had backup plans – for heaven’s sake, Link was the backup plan. He wasn’t even supposed to be involved if it wasn’t necessary.

Yet everything had failed. Everything.

She had failed in the original war. She’d only sealed him away, and at a terrible cost. She’d failed in the new plan, to obtain the Triforce herself, if possible, rather than involve Link. She’d failed in the backup plan, where Link was supposed to be the one to fix things while she held the seal.

Tears stung in her eyes, and she hastily wiped them away before anyone could notice. Why did Demise have to be a reality they still had to contend with? Why couldn’t they just… have a kingdom and be happy? Surely there were enough problems in the world without a demon king adding to them?

Perhaps it serves as a unifying thing, she thought listlessly, a small glimmering of hope latching to it. Everyone can get behind defeating pure evil.

If that were the case, though… if the entire world was unified in supporting this knight and the princess… why did he seem so broken and afraid?

She supposed it was a silly question. She herself had been terrified on her journey. But she’d had Impa. Link had Fi.

Who did this boy have? Surely he had everyone, right? Was he just naturally this timid? Or was it because she was viewed as Hylia by all?

Zelda’s musings were interrupted when they stopped in front of a door. The knight hesitantly raised his free hand to knock and then paused, glancing at her and waiting for her to give some kind of signal.

Smiling, she pushed ahead and knocked gently on the door. When she got no response, she started to open it, curious if the princess was even there. The pair slowly shuffled into the room, both a little sheepish (one far more so than the other), and then paused in the entranceway.

The soft snoring from the bed was immediately familiar. The two lumps in the bed told her the rest.

Zelda snorted out a laugh. Of course Link had somehow found his way here to sleep. She was surprised the princess was asleep in the middle of the day though. Her heart warmed with endearment as she whispered, “I guess some traits did make it through all the generations.”

Apparently Princess Zelda was as much of a sleepyhead as Link was.

She honestly didn’t want to wake them. She was certainly curious how Link had found his way here and how much he had talked to the princess before they’d both settled in for a nap, but she also didn’t want to disturb the moment. She definitely didn’t want to address the issue that had brought her here.

But there was honestly little point in avoiding it. Sighing, she pulled out some feathers from her pouch she’d been carrying with her, handing one to the knight. As she did so, she saw his stupefied expression as he stared at the pair in the bed, eyes wide and face pale.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

The swordsman jumped, startled, and glanced at her, bemusement apparent. His cheeks flushed, and he glanced between her and the bed.

Zelda stared, completely baffled. A thought slowly coalesced in her mind, picturing all the stiff protocol she’d seen so far. “Is this something to do with manners or something? Because she’s an important figure?”

The swordsman blinked, and despite his efforts for his stoicism, the disbelief was apparent on his face.

“You’re an important figure too, so it shouldn’t be a big deal to be in here, right?” Zelda questioned confusedly. “I mean… you didn’t have any issues leading me here.”

The knight’s brow furrowed.

“You were with her earlier,” Zelda threw out the observation with a shrug. “What’s the problem?”

When she got no response, she handed the feather over to him. “Here. I’ll wake up Link, you wake up the princess.”

Zelda went to the bed without sparing him another glance, bending over and inching the feather close to her beloved’s nose. Link was curled into the blankets, his face barely visible, but she still managed to maneuver the weapon into place. As she tickled under his nose, she giggled when he scrunched it in response, his brow furrowing. Link groaned slightly, slinking away and bumping into the princess’ back. Zelda smirked, having already started to wake him up, and decided drastic measures were required. Leaping into the air, she landed on the bed, bouncing right beside her husband as he yelped and kicked in all directions, landing a hit on both his wife and the bedpost.

“Ouch!” they both yelled as the princess squealed and fell right out of the bed with a loud thud.

Gasping, Zelda crawled over Link to look over at the floor, where the knight had also rushed to the princess’ side. “Are you okay?”

The princess was panting for air as if she’d run across all of Skyloft ten times over. Zelda felt a little guilty – she supposed she shouldn’t have startled the girl. She was just having some fun with Link.

“Sorry,” Zelda said, making the princess freeze. The girl looked up at her, horror in her eyes, and then she registered the knight in front of her and squeaked, pulling a blanket off the bed to wrap herself in it. In doing so, she yanked both Zelda and Link, making them tumbled over each other, but the princess didn’t have enough strength to actually get the cloth out from under them.

The knight rose to his feet awkwardly, brow pinched as he looked between the three.

“Zelda,” Link whined from underneath Zelda. Both she and the princess looked at him, and it was at that moment that Zelda realized they really needed to work out a naming system for everyone.

In the meantime, she said, “It’s time to get up, sleepyheads!”

Despite her cheer and Link’s good-natured grumbling, the princess seemed absolutely… mortified. She looked at the knight in horror, cheeks as red as Groose’s hair, and she pulled her nightgown more tightly around her, burying her face in her knees.

Zelda looked between the pair. She was definitely missing something. The knight turned around to look a different direction, staring pointedly at the wall.

Honestly, they were acting as if they’d stumbled in on the princess bathing or something.

Oh. Wait. Was… was finding her sleeping bad in this era?

Just as Zelda was about to ask, the princess rose and rushed towards some stairs, disappearing quickly. Zelda and Link exchanged confused glances. Before she could go after the girl, though, Link followed her, leaving her and the knight alone in the bedroom.

“That was weird,” Zelda muttered. “Is… did we do something wrong?”

The knight turned slightly, eying her in profile. From this vantage point, his neutral glance looked more questioning.

“Seriously, though,” Zelda pressed on. “I… you guys act so differently from us. What’s wrong?”

Eventually, the knight seemed to realize she was genuinely asking, and he faced her fully. “It’s… not proper to see someone undressed like that. Or in bed with... B-but—that just doesn't apply to Your Grace, I—”

Here the knight’s mouth snapped shut, like he was trying to explain but was fumbling too much to try and continue. Zelda watched him a moment longer, thinking about it, and then sighed. “Oh. Oops. I’m sorry.”

The room was dead silent, and then Zelda continued, staring at her lap. “It’s just… so different here. I didn’t mean any offense or anything. I didn’t mean to upset her, or you.”

She sighed, glancing up, and smiled despite the knight’s seemingly neutral reaction. “Well, maybe we shouldn’t linger in here, then. If it’s going to upset her and all. Can you show me where the gardens are? There were tiny birds there that I liked.”

The knight glanced at the stairs, as if to express his concern for the princess, and Zelda hopped off the bed, waving her hand. “Don’t worry about the princess. Link will talk to her.”

You’re avoiding the actual conversation you need to have, a voice whispered in her mind, but she ignored it. She didn't want to further upset the princess, after all. She'd let Link smooth it over; the pair had seemed to have bonded a little, at least. She could learn about the knight instead. He had the Master Sword. He was important too.

“Show me the way to the garden,” she asked, holding out her hand. “And tell me about yourself! I’ll tell you about me.”

The knight watched her before quickly taking her hand, as if he didn’t do so fast enough he’d be in trouble. She frowned at it. “Remember I said we could be friends, right?”

The knight stared at her. Zelda sighed. This was going to take some work. But she’d figure it out.

XXX

The stone stairs in the room led to a hallway that connected to a separate tower. Link had to marvel at the size of this place all over again. The room downstairs alone could act as a house for most on Skyloft.

Never mind the scale, however – something was upsetting the girl, the princess. What was her name again?

Oh, he abruptly remembered. Oh.

Princess Zelda was seated on the ground of the hallway between the stairs and the tower, knees tucked under her chin. Her head barely peeked over the stone railing. A gentle breeze blew by, rustling her soft silky robe and dress, rustling hair into Link’s face as he carelessly brushed it aside.

Approaching her hesitantly, Link asked, “Are you okay?”

The princess jumped, startled at his approach and his words. “Am I—what are you doing out here, you can’t see me like this! Nobody but servants and my family—”

She stopped abruptly. Link stared at her. The word family bounced around in his mind again, feeling so foreign and magical, bizarre and otherworldly, exciting and terrifying.

This girl was his family. Separated by countless years, yes, but family nonetheless. Link… hadn’t had that in a very long time. At least not by blood.

“You’re—I mean—don’t you understand how improper that was?!” the princess tried again, burying her face in her knees. “I can’t do anything right.”

“Improper?” Link repeated, tilting his head to the side. “Why?”

“Why?” the princess repeated, baffled as she looked at him once more. “What do you—because it’s—I’m dressed too—and I was in bed with—and—”

She lost either her nerve or her ability to articulate at this point, shaking her head and plopping her forehead on her knees once more. Link watched her a moment longer, unsure, and moved to sit beside her when she jumped, seeming to realize something.

“I don’t—I’m sorry to be rude,” she said hastily. “I-it isn’t my intent to be disrespectful or anything, it’s just—I—isn’t it improper for you too? Why were you in my bed?!”

Link furrowed his brow. Her tone had changed, as if she’d gone from mortified to scared. What was she afraid of?

…Was she afraid of him?

Link bit his lip uncertainly, plopping himself onto the ground beside her. What reason did she have to be afraid of him? Was it because of the big fuss her people made the other night? If the words they spoke in their fairytale rendering of his journey were what they truly believed, then they really didn’t understand the full magnitude of the situation.

They didn’t understand that this was his fault. They shouldn’t be showing him any kind of respect. Link hadn’t done his job, apparently.

Demise was still alive.

The thought both chilled him to his core and enraged him. He wanted to hunt him down now, he wanted to kill him now, he wanted to run away and hide in a corner and beg Fi to wake up and tell him what the hell he was supposed to do. None of this had been part of the plan.

Not like he’d been privileged to the plan anyway.

Link shook his head, ridding his mind of the unexpectedly bitter thought. He needed to focus on the princess, not his own issues.

“I’m sorry you’re upset,” he offered quietly.

“Link saw me in bed! And I was in bed with a stranger—well, you’re not a stranger, but—but you’re the Hero of Myth and Legend! The rumors that will fly—” the princess shook her head, her hands reached to her scalp and dug through her hair anxiously.

Was that what was bothering her? Rumors? “You shouldn’t worry about what others think of you. Besides, what are they going to say?”

“We were in bed together!”

“And?”

The princess stared at him again, a baffled expression on her face. “Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

Link squinted, wondering what in the world she was getting at. “…No?? Beds are for sleeping, and that’s what we did?”

The princess stared at him and seemed to give up, sighing and looking away.

“Who cares about rumors, anyway?” Link said, shrugging.

“It matters what people say about me,” the princess muttered. “You don’t have an entire kingdom relying on you.”

Link paused, feeling the heaviness in her words. He… didn’t really have a way to fathom it. The highest authoritative figure he knew was the headmaster, and Gaepora had never really cared if students didn’t like him. He wasn’t a bad man, but he did what he thought was best whether the students liked it or not. Besides, what if he had listened to popular opinion? What if he’d listened to Groose when he whined that Link wasn’t good enough for the academy?

Before Link could really ponder the matter more, the princess jolted and looked back at him and shook her head. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“No, you’re right,” Link cut in. “I don’t have that many people relying on me like that, I guess. I can’t even think about it. Just based on how many people I saw at the party… you have a lot depending on you.”

The princess bit her lip, looking down before returning his gaze. “You did too, I suppose. I shouldn’t assume that my problems are greater than yours, that just because I’m incapable in my duty that yours was somehow lesser.”

“Incapable in your duty?” Link repeated. “Is today really that bad?”

The princess sighed wearily. “No, it’s… it’s not that. I’m sorry.”

Silence filled the air, only interrupted by the wind whistling past flags and between the stone teeth cut into the railing above them. Link shifted uncomfortably; usually he wasn’t bothered by silence, but the anxious and dejected air about the girl was unfitting and he wanted to fix it. He tried changing tactics.

“Your name is Zelda, right?” Link asked, and the princess nodded. “That’s… so weird.”

At the princess’ bemused and embarrassed look, Link hastily added, “N-not in a bad way! It’s just… my wife’s name is Zelda too. I’m going to get you two confused if I say Zelda and you’re both with me!”

“She goes by Zelda?” the princess questioned.

“Yes,” Link immediately answered firmly. “She… she went by Hylia before, but ever since her, uh… her rebirth, she prefers to go by Zelda. It’s who she is now.”

“That’s so… fascinating,” Princess Zelda whispered, glancing off to Link’s left at nothing in particular.

“Well, either way, it’s going to be confusing,” Link said, dismissing the focus on his wife’s past. He didn’t entirely understand it still, but he knew it bothered her. He’d seen her discomfort during the feast, so he wasn’t going to encourage the behavior to continue. “Do you have a nickname? She doesn’t. Or—wait, your dad has like fifty names, right? Do you have more names?”

The princess stared at him a moment and then burst out laughing. Then her hands flew to her mouth, her cheeks as red as his loftwing. “I—I’m sorry, n-no, I don’t.”

Link thought about it a moment. “What about Zellie?”

The princess stared at him. “Zellie?”

Link shrugged. He wasn’t going to call her something she didn’t like, but she wasn’t coming up with anything, so he figured he’d just throw it out there. The princess watched him a moment longer, her gaze growing distant as a small smile played at her lips.

Closing her eyes, she seemed to try to center herself. “My mother used to call me that.”

Oh. Maybe a bit too personal, then. Link was about to say so when the princess said, “I like it.”

Link smiled. “Ok. Zellie, it is.” Then he grew somber as he remembered not seeing a female king (was there a term for that?) at the feast. “What… happened to your mother?”

“She died when I was six,” the princess answered. Her tone was neutral, polite, but he could tell in the way she was squeezing her hands that it still bothered her.

Link watched her for a moment longer and then looked away. “I’m sorry. I lost my dad around that time too.”

He heard her turn her head to look at him. “You had a dad?”

Link whipped his head to stare at her. “Yes??”

Then he remembered their story from the other night and he laughed. “I—I wasn’t made from a cloud, you know! I was born to parents just like you!”

The princess’ face flushed bright red. “I—”

Link waved a hand as he giggled. “It’s okay, it’s what you were taught. I just—”

He couldn’t continue, falling apart into a fit of laughter. Maybe he should have just said he actually was made from clouds; it would have been funnier.

I’ll do it next time someone asks.

“So… how did Hylia… I mean, did she even…” Zellie shifted to face him more fully. “What happened?”

Link’s laughter died down, reality sinking into him once more. He cleared his throat a little uncomfortably. “Uh… she… I mean, she chose me, but…”

“Is Hylia your… your mother…?” the princess asked, her face pinched in a manner that showed she was disgusted at the thought but trying not to show it.

“Ew, no!” Link immediately exclaimed. His reaction caused the princess to flinch, but the girl also looked relieved at the words. “My mother was a craftswoman, she worked in the bazaar.”

“What did she make?”

Link stared off and shrugged, looking back at her somewhat apologetically. “I… don’t remember what my dad said she made, honestly. He’s been gone so long, and… she died giving birth to me. I never knew her.”

She looked sad. “I’m sorry. To never know what having a mother is like… I can’t imagine.”

“What was your mother like?”

Zellie stared at her hands as her legs slowly slid out and straightened. “She was… wise. Beautiful. Caring and so gentle. She always seemed to know what to do.”

The princess bit her lip, somehow growing even more somber.

“I’m sorry,” Link said quietly. “She sounds like a good mother.”

“Oh, how I wish she could have met you and the goddess,” Zellie said, a sad smile playing at her lips. “I imagine she would have loved it. And… yes. She would have loved it.”

“She probably is loving it,” Link nudged her with his shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile. “Wherever she is. She’s probably laughing and thinking it’s silly that you were upset earlier.”

Zellie huffed. “It isn’t silly! My position is important, and maintaining dignity is part of it. I’m not like you, I…”

The princess cut herself off, rising abruptly, before she jolted and crouched beneath the railing to stay out of sight. It was… rather silly to watch. Link felt a little bad for her.

“Why aren’t you like me?” he asked.

Zellie continued to face away from him in her awkward crouch, and her shoulders drooped as she sighed. “Oh, this is all wrong. I shouldn’t be speaking to you this way, I apologize.”

“Why? What other way should you be speaking to me?” Link queried, wondering if she’d ever turn around. “I’m just me.”

“You’re the Hero. Created by Hylia—or, well, chosen by Hylia, I guess, but—you defeated the Calamity! You’re—” Zellie finally did turn, struggling for words. “I should be showing so much more respect to you. I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t be sorry,” Link immediately assuaged her worries, giving her a gentle smile. “I don’t like being talked to like I’m some fairytale. I’m a person, just like you.”

“I’m a princess.”

“So does that mean you’re not a person?”

“No! No, it’s just…” Zellie sighed, unsure how to continue. Then she huffed. “What you did the other night was just because you wanted to, wasn’t it? It had nothing to do with dominance.”

Dominance?? “Huh?”

“When you sat on the throne with the goddess.”

“I felt like I was going to pass out,” Link explained sheepishly. “I needed to sit. Also, Zel looked upset.”

The princess stared at him. Blinked. And then she let out a shaky breath. “You… oh, you’re still sick, that’s right.”

“No,” Link argued. “I was overwhelmed. I’ve never seen so many people, especially not all staring at me.”

“You… were scared?”

Link bit his tongue a moment. He’d gotten into the habit of saying he wasn’t scared, of saying things didn’t bother him. He’d had to. But… he felt like honesty was needed here. “…Yeah. Yeah, I was.”

If you wish to be of help to Her Grace, you must summon a shred of courage and face the trails laid out before you.

Goddesses above. He’d thought he had helped. Instead, he’d cursed everything and everyone.

Link felt sick. He felt so, so sick. His words hung in the air, held heavily in place in the stillness and silence. The words were swept away, however, when he heard a strange sound from far beneath them, like mechanical whirring and large footsteps. Curious, he rose and looked down over the railing to see a giant robot with legs akin to a skulltulla, its head swiveling as it people stood around it. The princess stood and peeked over, eyes barely above the railing, and she smiled.

“That’s a guardian,” she said eagerly.

Link felt his blood run cold at the word, and he shook his head. Clearly, this was something different than that. “O-oh?”

“They were made long ago by the Sheikah,” Zellie explained. “They helped defeat the Calamity ten thousand years ago. We’re hoping to reutilize them.”

“They still work?” Link questioned, squinting at them and thinking of all the broken down robots in Lanayru. “Or are you using timeshift stones?”

Zellie whipped her had to look at him. “Timeshift stones? What are those?”

Apparently not. “They control time within a certain radius. It’s… how I got here, I think.”

The princess slid to the ground again to stay hidden from the rest of the world, her brow furrowed. “You came here using a timeshift stone?”

“It… was an accident,” Link offered feebly with a shrug as he sat beside her again. “I was in a mine full of them and there was an explosion.”

“You… you came here by accident?”

“Uh… yeah.” Now Link was starting to feel guilty. Had… had they all actually thought he and Zel had come here on purpose? What was their thought process with that?

We seek your care and protection and favors, And hope you grant them through your sages.

The prayer from the other night lingered in his mind once more, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Did… did they…?

Oh goddesses.

He shut that train of thought down so quickly he could practically hear the door slam closed in his mind. This was just an adventure. This was fine. He was fine.

You can’t avoid your own failure, a voice whispered that sounded annoyingly like Impa.

His thoughts weren’t wrong, though. What was he going to do? If he’d kept avoiding the matter on his own adventure, Zel would be dead, Demise would have won, the world would have ended.

Why hadn’t it been enough? Why hadn’t he been enough?

“I hadn’t planned on being here,” Link said quietly, refusing to make eye contact, dragging the words out of him. “But… I think maybe the goddesses had. To help you.”

The princess was quiet a moment before saying softly, “I suppose Link will appreciate the help.”

Link? He was Link. What?

Goddess. That knight. “His… his name is Link too?”

“Well, yes,” Zellie answered matter-of-factly. “Many boys are named Link because of you.”

Nope. This was getting to be too much again. Link rose abruptly, growing dizzy. Words left him, and he hummed when Zellie also shot to her feet and held a hesitant hand out to stabilize him.

I suppose Link will appreciate the help. Ha! As if someone who seemed so capable could possibly need a failure’s assistance. He had Fi now. Link wasn’t needed. He was replaced.

Well, of course you were, this is a bajillion years in the future, idiot, he thought. Then he sighed. It didn’t matter. Whether there was a Chosen Hero or not… he’d…

He’d failed. He’d failed.

“I… I think he’s down there with Her Grace.”

Glancing over the railing, he saw Zel and the knight looking at the guardian. Fi was strapped securely on the knight’s back as if she belonged there.

Because she did.

He’d gotten sick earlier just looking at him, just thinking about all the ways he’d gone wrong, all the ways he’d dumped his failures onto the knight’s shoulders. It was no wonder the knight acted as if he were the scum of the earth.

He was.

Link wanted nothing more than to jump down there and be with his wife. He wanted nothing more than to go home and pretend he hadn’t learned about any of this. But how could he possibly avoid the truth of the future he’d doomed?

I suppose Link will appreciate the help. No. No, he wouldn’t. There was no way Link could help this knight.

You’ve already failed before and still gotten back up, he reminded himself. You completely failed Zelda and still…

Still what? Succeeded? Triumphed? Clearly not.

Link just… needed to be alone. He needed to get away. He pointedly looked away from Zelda and the knight, looked away from the princess who was watching him, and turned on his heel, disappearing down the stairs and letting his feet take him anywhere, anywhere to get him out of there.

XXX

“Wow,” Hylia breathed as she looked at the guardian. “These things are incredible. And so big!”

Link watched her hesitantly, still trying to get his heart rate under control. Despite the goddess’ casual demeanor, he still wasn’t quite able to shake the fact that he was talking to a goddess. There had to be some kind of protocol he was completely messing up, but she hadn’t shown offense and had insisted on casual interaction.

Of course, he wasn’t entirely sure what she considered casual interaction, so it was best to just stay silent unless prompted. And even then… goddess. He didn’t know what to do.

Goddess! Maybe he shouldn’t invoke her while he was thinking about her.

This entire day had been one disaster after another. First he’d been so distracted he’d nearly gotten himself injured while sparring with Mipha, worrying his dearest friend, and then he’d run into the Hero and had somehow—well. He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

Running into Hylia herself had not been in the plans for the day. He’d just wanted to find Zelda and talk to her. He’d just needed someone to parse his thoughts and worries with.

Of course running into the princess while she was in bed with a man was how this day was going to go. The impropriety of it all—the one good thing was that the only witnesses seemed completely clueless that it was wrong. Not to mention, if Hylia casually talked about running into the princess in bed alongside her immortal spouse and her current Hero, no one would question anything about it.

That didn’t make it any less embarrassing, though. And he felt bad for Zelda, too. The girl worried so much about protocols and how she was perceived.

“So they helped defeat De—Calamity Ganon in the past?”

Link nodded. Again, he wondered how she didn’t know this. How she didn’t know anything. He didn’t dare question it, didn’t dare try to parse out how a goddess of time wasn’t aware of what had happened through the ages. That felt sacrilegious to even think about, let alone ask her. Despite how seemingly normal she was trying to act, how much he truly wanted to ask about it, he wouldn't dare.

He had planned on asking Zelda, though. But he supposed it was a moot point now.

Link stared at the goddess longer than he probably should have, but… her attire caught his attention. She’d been wearing it when she’d first appeared. It was just like the Hero’s, like the ancient traditional garb from the stories and tapestries. He wondered if the Hero’s attire was fashioned after her own, then, when she’d created him. It looked nothing like the statues, and it was far more practical.

It was a uniform. It was armor. He could see the chainmail. Hylia wasn’t just a gentle, benign goddess. She was a warrior. It was an aspect of her that he’d never really known or realized, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it.

If she’d been a warrior, too, why had she needed a Hero? Or was it ceremonial? Was she a goddess of knights and soldiers and he hadn’t known? Maybe that was why she didn’t know what was happening – maybe she wasn’t a goddess of time at all.

Somehow, imagining her as a goddess of knights made her more approachable than a goddess of time, but he had to remind himself that she was still a deity nonetheless. He shook his head subtly.

Hylia turned on her heel, a hand to her chin as she hummed thoughtfully. “Okay. So in the past the guardians, divine beasts, a hero and a princess defeated Ganon. They didn’t use the Triforce at all. But that still doesn’t fix the problem. He just keeps getting sealed away.”

Hylia narrowed her eyes at the ground, and her face grew stormy. Link swore he could feel the atmosphere chill at the sight of it.

“Damn that demon,” she swore softly. “Damn him.”

Link swallowed, shifting uncomfortably in place.

Hylia sighed, seeming to remember he was there. “Sorry. We… he just… it’s a lot to take in. I know that you’re looking to me for help. I’ll… we’ll figure it out.”

Figure it out? Did she not know what to do? Hylia herself didn’t know what to do?

Link had so many questions.

"I wonder if Fi still has any of him sealed away in the blade,” Hylia thought aloud, staring at Link. "Or... perhaps since she's drawn... that's the part of him that broke away?"

Fi? Was he supposed to know who that was? Link looked back at her, fear making his palms sweat, wondering if she was expecting a response. Great go—good grief, he sincerely missed the days when the pressure on him was just to fight and destroy, not to provide answers and information.

Hylia stared at him too long, and he felt his mouth go dry. Was he supposed to say something?

“You must be a very good knight,” Hylia commented. “You seem to take your duty very seriously.”

Link’s heart skipped a beat. He felt pride swell in him while simultaneously being crushed down by the expectations behind it. It was an honor, truly, but…

Hylia laughed suddenly, poking him so hard he nearly fell over. “But lighten up a little, Link! I understand this is serious business, but it doesn’t have to be all the time!”

Link gasped as he took a few steps back to catch himself. Hylia’s mirth faded, a worried expression crossing her face.

“There’s just… it’s scary,” she said softly. “And we have to focus and fix this and stuff. I get that. It was like that on my journey too. But… you can’t always be scared. You shouldn’t be. There was so much to enjoy when I was finding my path. I hope… I hope we can do the same, you know?”

“You’re scared?” the words spilled out of his mouth before he could catch them, and he knew, he knew he was going to die right there on the spot. What was he thinking, questioning a goddess—

“Yeah,” Hylia replied immediately. “Yeah, I am. I’m… sorry if that scares you too. But it’s true. I… we… we were supposed to protect you from this. I don’t understand why it didn’t work. Link beat him. I got my spirit back. We won.”

Got her spirit back? What did that mean? And…

Link stared at Hylia, watched her as she hugged herself and looked at the ground, on the verge of tears. She looked so alone.

He couldn’t not do something.

Reaching out, he put a hand on her shoulder, catching her attention, and said, “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Hylia held his gaze, and for the millionth time that day he felt like he was going to die on the spot. What the actual hell did I just say oh Golden Three above—

Hylia smiled, eyes shining, and she wrapped him in a tight hug. “Thanks. You’re right. We’ll figure it out.”

Link stood awkwardly in the hug, not really able to return it, but she was squeezing him so tightly he was fairly certainly he’d pop something out of joint if he tried to move anyway. It… felt good, actually.

Well… the goddess had initiated it. So it wasn’t bad, right?

Hylia let him go with a sigh. “I guess I should actually go talk to the princess now. I figure Link’s calmed her down, at least. Maybe you can talk to him?”

Link froze. Oh. Oh, no.

“Come on!” Hylia said with a laugh, dragging him out of the courtyard. “Let’s go find them.”

[greatpestilenz]

Collision of Fate - Kurapika Kurta x Reader

   Kurapika stood in his usual spot, hidden in the shadows, his eyes fixed on the bustling crowd of Yorknew City. He had been coming to this spot every day, hoping to catch another glimpse of the person who had captured his heart. It had been weeks since he first saw you, yet he couldn't get you out of his mind.

   From the moment he laid eyes on you, Kurapika was drawn to your radiant smile and the way your voice seemed to dance with the wind. He watched as you interacted with the people around you, leaving a trail of joy in your wake. The way you made others feel, it was as if you were a beacon of light in this dark and dangerous world.

   As the days passed by, Kurapika's hope began to dwindle. He hadn't seen you since that first encounter, and he couldn't help but wonder if he had lost his chance to know you. Maybe it was just a fleeting moment, a beautiful encounter that was never meant to be more.

   Feeling disheartened, Kurapika turned to leave. But fate had other plans. As he took a step forward, he collided with someone, nearly knocking them over. His heart skipped a beat when he looked up and saw you standing there, a surprised expression on your face.

   "Oh! I'm sorry!" you apologized, bowing slightly. "I wasn't looking at where I was going!"

   Kurapika couldn't contain the smile that spread across his face. "It's alright," he reassured you. "No harm done."

   "I'm Kurapika. And you?" he asked, hoping against hope that you would share your name.

   You introduced yourself with a warm smile, mentioning that you were visiting Yorknew for a few weeks because your parents lived there. You explained that you worked as a doctor in another city.

   A flicker of recognition crossed Kurapika's eyes. "You remind me of a friend of mine. He's also a doctor," he replied, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

   The conversation flowed effortlessly as Kurapika walked with you to your destination. He listened intently to your stories, hanging on to every word you said. The more he learned about you, the more he realized that his initial attraction was just the beginning. There was so much more to you than he could have ever imagined.

   Once you arrived at your destination, you bowed towards Kurapika, ready to say goodbye and enter the building. But before you could make your way inside, Kurapika grabbed your arm desperately, his emotions hidden behind a composed exterior.

   "Hold on," he said, his voice pleading. "I'd like to see you again."

   Your eyes widened with surprise, but a gentle smile tugged at your lips. "I would like that too," you replied.

   Kurapika fumbled in his pocket for his phone and handed it to you. "Can I get your number?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of hope and vulnerability.

   You nodded, taking the phone from his hand and typing in your number. As you handed it back to him, a newfound connection sparked between you. It was a simple exchange, but it held the promise of something more.

   "I'll call you," Kurapika promised, a genuine sincerity in his eyes.

   "I'll be waiting," you said softly before entering the building, leaving Kurapika standing there, his heart aflutter with the hope of a future together.

   And from that day forward, Kurapika's visits to his usual spot took on a new purpose. No longer was he waiting for a chance encounter; he was waiting for the opportunity to create new memories with you, to deepen the connection that had started with a smile and a collision of fate.

[stargaterevival]

20 questions for writers! Thanks @sga-owns-my-soul @frostysfrenzy

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

5 works

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

116,241, mostly between the two novels.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Stargate SG1 and Atlantis, MCU Avengers Steve Rogers, (unpublished: Saving Hope, Daredevil, Supernatural).

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The there are only 5 on Ao3 so far 😅

You and Me (Stargate SG-1, Daniel Jackson x gn reader, 🔞)

What was Lost (Marvel, Steve Rogers x OFC 🔞)

Fetish (Captain America, Steve x Peggy)

Worlds Colliding (Stargate SG-1, Sam x Martouf)

Capturing Samantha (Stargate SG-1, Sam x Martouf)

5. Do you respond to comments?

YESSS!! I live for comments, and reblogs, all the interactions!!!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

You and me is the angstiest in general. It gets very emotionally dark.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

What was Lost has the happiest ending so far... but it may be overtaken by You and Me, we'll have to wait and see 😉

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I was once told my mystery was too mysterious 🤣

9. Do you write smut?

Sort of, I write romance 😘 so it's bound to happen 😏

Okay, yes. Yes, I do.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've ever written?

Not yet, never say never.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

We all have, everyone who's been on Ao3 for a while. Don't steal my shit 🤬 I'm pretty mad about chatGPT scraping everyone's works. Disgusting bunch of thieves!!!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope! I think most writing loses its essence in translation.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes! It was so much fun!!!

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

Probably Daniel/Sha're, or Daniel/Vala (Stargate) but also partial to Steve/Nat (MCU), and Matt/Elektra (Daredevil). But X reader fics are the most fun you can have 💘

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a dirty Daredevil X reader languishing in my wips. Might get around to it when I watch the new season.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Character voices and attentions to detail. People usually comment on those things. I'm also good at bringing the Drama™️. There may be some screaming, crying and throwing up 😂

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Keeping it short and sweet, my slow burns really are slow burns. I have to pay specific attention to pacing and linking scenes well. I do way too much Research™️ .

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I would if I had a native language speaker to proof read it for me.

As a reader I find it annoying if I have to keep moving back to the chapter notes to check translations. It interrupts the flow.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The X-files but I was a kid, does that count? Supernatural is probably more relevant.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Honestly, I love my two novels, I'm pretty attached to them 🥰 they've been such a journey, personally and in terms of developing my writing skills.

tagging @i-am-morrigans-apprentice @jgem87 @darsynia @figsandfandoms @rightbrainboredom @riverageleis @sarcasticsciencefictionwriter @cuillere @courtforshort15 and anyone else who's interested!

-- Ellie 💗 (@ellie--eille)

questions under the cut

20 questions for writers!

Thanks @

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

2. What's your total ao3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments?

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut?

10. Do you wrote crossovers? What's the craziest one you've ever written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 3/5

Book Blurb:

A professional baseball player and his heckler prove that true love is worth going to bat for in the next swoony romance by USA Today bestselling author Alicia Thompson.

Daphne Brink doesn’t follow baseball, but watching “America’s Snoozefest” certainly beats sitting at home in the days after she signs her divorce papers. After one too many ballpark beers, she heckles Carolina Battery player Chris Kepler, who quickly proves there might actually be a little crying in baseball. Horrified, Daphne reaches out to Chris on social media to apologize . . . but forgets to identify herself as his heckler in her message.

Chris doesn’t usually respond to random fans on social media, but he’s grieving and fragile after an emotionally turbulent few months. When a DM from “Duckie” catches his eye, he impulsively messages back. Duckie is sweet, funny, and seems to understand him in a way no one else does.

Daphne isn’t sure how much longer she can keep lying to Chris, especially as she starts working with the team in real life and their feelings for each other deepen. When he finds out the truth, will it be three strikes, she’s out?

Review:

After a terrible divorce, Daphne Brink decides to go a baseball game (despite not knowing anything about the sport) and heckle one of the professional players... what she doesn't expect is to make him cry and then become so guilt ridden that she begins messaging him... but she forgot to tell him who she is and as they fall for one another her secret might just destroy her second chance at romance. Daphne Brink is newly divorced and decides to go to the baseball game she was meant to go to with her ex, the only thing is Daphne knows nothing about the sport and isn't exactly a fan. So a few days after signing her divorce paper she goes to the game and decides to heckle one of the professional players, Chris Kepler. Her heckle was just meant to be a joke (she said it when she was super drunk) what she didn't expect was that it would make Chris cry and it would become a widely televised moment. Daphne is riddled with guilt and messages him to apologize... except she never actually says who she is and to her surprise he begins to talk to her and confide in her. Chris doesn't normally respond to random fan messages on social media, but he's still grieving and dealing with a lot, from his older brother's suicide to the strain of the game and his relationship with his own father. Yet when a DM from a "Duckie" catches his eye, he impulsively answers and so begins a sweet and romantic relationship. Daphne is falling for Chris but the more she talks to him the ore afraid she gets of revealing who she is and to make matters worse because of her nationalized moment as his heckler she is actually hired to do the team interviews... so now she has to pretend to not know Chris while also keeping her secret. Can she keep lying to Chris or will her online and in person worlds collide and the truth spill out and destroy the relationship between them? This started off really cute but got kind of annoying because honestly Daphne was straight up catfishing this poor dude for so so long and it really felt like she would have absolutely never ever told him. Daphne had so many opportunities, had so many chances, especially as the relationship was getting more real, that it felt a bit weird and maddening that she just refused to tell the poor guy. Chris is better than me, if I found out someone who not only heckled me, but used what I told them about myself in my vulnerable moments and threw it in my face, and then also would have never told me the truth if I didn't find out, I would have never turned back and couldn't even be in the same room as them. I can understand Daphne's fear but it just didn't feel right to me. I thought the romance was sweet at first but then the whole third act breakup happened and honestly, I kind of wanted better for Chris. Overall, it's a great book if you are a fan of hidden identity relationship stories.

Release Date: June 18,2024

Publication/Blog: Ash and Books (ash-and-books.tumblr.com)

*Thanks Netgalley and Berkley Publishing Group | Berkley for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[astromechs]

read all of the montague siblings books, had a breakdown, had to quickly sketch out the monty/percy reunion at the end of nobleman's guide that we didn't get to see.

also on ao3!

This goddamn path, Monty thinks, is somehow much more winding and treacherous than he remembers.

Has he been gone that long? It has felt like an age to him, of course — even five hours without being in Percy’s presence does, much less going on five months — but surely, in reality, it couldn’t have been so long that he’s forgotten his own walk home. Granted, going on five months ago, he hadn’t a bad leg and a cane to be negotiated against cobblestones, nor had he the infuriating tendency to become winded after short distances that only returning from the brink of death can bring. Nor had he regarded his younger brother as anything more than a relic from a past to be neglected, or settled into the shoes of what being a sibling means for the second time.

He’d told Adrian that journeys can change a person, that one returns a man different than the one he’d used to be.

Funny, he’d assumed himself too old for such drastic shifts in his own life. Then again, there is the whole bit regarding what happens when one assumes.

God, that’s not how he’d like to think about an ass. If he’s thinking about asses, there’s only one that he would like on his mind.

Speak of the devil —

As he rounds the corner, the small garden that Percy had insisted upon cultivating in front of their home comes into view, along with the man himself — and Monty’s entire world. For the moment, he has his back turned, absorbed in whatever one does with flowers; God knows Monty hasn’t the slightest inkling. It’s always been fascinating to watch him work, though, whether on this, or evaluating a piece of music, or even the damn numbers. There’s beauty in everything Percy does, but there’s especially beauty in this, in the way he can be so lovingly absorbed in even something so mundane.

Despite their separation, despite how his heart jumps into his throat and his breath catches there, despite how every inch of him is screaming for him to move as quickly as he’s able so that he can finally feel the touch of Percy’s skin upon his own once more, Monty doesn’t have the heart to interrupt him. Not yet. He can stand here for a few moments more, painting the sight before him into his mind should he ever need it again (he hopes not; he hopes he never has to be apart from Percy for more than a few hours at a time for the rest of their lives, but just in case, he’d like more in his mental arsenal).

He steps closer, just a little, for a better look — but then Percy tenses, lifts his head from the flowers he’s inspecting, and turns, eyes widening. Inwardly, Monty curses himself for the disturbance, for ruining what he’s had weeks to plan as the perfect reunion.

Then again, he supposes the days of quiet steps and sneaking up on people are officially behind him.

And what does it matter, anyway, when Percy has dropped everything to run straight for him, his long legs carrying him there in no time at all? What does it matter when the two of them collide with a force that almost knocks him off his feet, when strong arms wrap around him and prevent that from ever happening, and he clutches tightly in return? What does it matter when all he can hear out of his one good ear is the sound of Percy’s heartbeat, all he can feel is the rise and fall of his chest, and all he knows is Percy?

It doesn’t, Mony thinks. Nothing else goddamn matters.

“Darling,” Percy finally finds his voice. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“Never.” It’s said in a breath almost more than an actual word, this fierce resolve. This vow; the word sticks in his mind, burning like a brand. Maybe one day, he’ll be more receptive to such things being exchanged between them, but for now, pulling back a small distance, just enough so that they can look at one another: “You can’t imagine how difficult it was to be apart from your ass for so many months. Zounds, Perce, so many.” He heaves a sigh, only in part for dramatic effect. “It was so painful that I was lying awake at night, willing the masturbation demon to come for me. Can you imagine how bloody awful it’d be to have to toss off with a demon? All prickly, and not in the good way —”

“My ass?” Percy cuts off the thought, presumably before Monty can further careen down that runaway line of thought. Probably for the best; out of the two of them, Percy has always been closer to knowing it. They may have avoided at least half their sodding struggles on this… adventure had he accompanied them, but there’s nothing that can be done about that now. And Monty would rather not think of it, in any case, not when the corners of Percy’s mouth are turned up in the most enchanting hint of a smile. “You only missed me for my ass?”

“In my defense,” Monty lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug, a smirk beginning to tug on his own lips, “It is quite a notable part of you to miss.” For emphasis, the hand not clutching the top of his cane snakes around Percy’s waist, clumsily grabbing a finger-full of trousers.

Percy, in turn, lifts exactly one brow, just as he’s done well more than a thousand times, and in an instant, they both laugh. It’s easy; everything with Percy has always been easy, when it’s really mattered. Nothing could take that away — not time, not distance.

Not even the darkness that Monty will never quite be able to banish from his own mind.

There will have to be conversations, he knows; some will be more difficult than others, and some will be quite gravely serious. Just the mere thought of one in particular has his heart racing wildly in his chest for completely different reasons — but all will be had in time, without him running away from them. This he can solemnly promise.

For now, though, Monty is quite fine to simply be here, watching as the last rays of the setting sun seem to bring out the freckles under Percy’s eyes, seemingly making them dance. Every part of him has always been beautiful, of course, because anything that is Percy’s would have to be, but those, perhaps, take the ultimate prize.

Light-soaked days. His own words come to him again in this moment, settling over him like a cup of hot tea on a frigid evening, spreading warmth to the tips of him in a feeling that he can name without any difficulty at all. Contentment. Peace.

Whether or not he could possibly ever hope to deserve it, he wants to wrap himself in it for the rest of his days.

“Let’s go inside, my love.” After a time, Percy’s hand gives one last gentle squeeze before withdrawing. “I’ll put on a kettle, and you can —” His eyes drift down to the cane, widening as if he’s just now noticed it (and maybe he has, for all that they’ve been wrapped up in one another), and back up again. “You can tell me what in God’s name happened to your leg, for a start.”

“Oh, that?” There’s a light laugh tossed in with the question, deflection also as easy as breathing. “That was my dear sister. By which I mean that if we hadn’t found said dear sister….” He waves his free hand, vaguely, then clears his throat. “Can we save that story for after a shag? It’s all terribly gruesome, and, frankly, I’d rather not let anything get between me, you, and a bed. Bed optional.”

Percy nudges him in the shoulder, so lightly as not to knock him off balance; he’s careful to the last. “You cad.”

“Calling me a cad when I know you, Percy Newton.” The scoff, the big show of pretending to be affronted, is easy, too. “I know what filthy thoughts are lurking behind those beautiful brown eyes of yours.”

It’s Percy’s turn to shrug, to let the smile that’s been tugging at his mouth fully blossom. The setting sun is sparkling in his eyes now, and it’s all in all the most goddamn gorgeous sight that Monty has ever seen. He’s practically traveled half the world over at this point, he thinks, through one misadventure or another, and he’s seen sunsets over the sea and all sorts of things someone much more skilled than him would wax poetic about, but none of it, absolutely none of it has ever, or will ever, compare to the greatest man that this world has ever had the privilege of allowing to live in it.

The man that he has somehow been dealt a lucky enough hand to call his beloved — a hand that, by some miracle, he has somehow managed not to mess up.

No matter who may see, Monty is far from strong enough to resist rising on his toes and giving a kiss to Percy’s cheek, as he murmurs, “Let’s go inside.”

[vavoomed-for-crowley]

Heard it's Fanfiction Friday

So here I am, promoting my works from different fandoms:

Living With(out) You (Good Omens) on AO3

Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader

Aziraphale went back to heaven and Crowley suffers from the loss, trying to drown out his emotions by ineffable drinking. But he forgot that he left an impression on the people around him that actually care and try to be there for him. When he finally accepts to let them closer, he begins to work out a life without his angel. At least until a certain point.

Story Notes:

This is my most recent work and still ongoing. I gotta admit that writing it is a slow process because there's so much to do in my life right now. And I find it certainly hard to add an extra character to the ineffable husbands but the idea is stuck in my brain. It's fun to be back in the game.

The focus of my story is on Crowley's way to recover. For him to learn how to live without his angel and what life can be like when you let people in. There's no unnecessary drama. It's a grown up story about themes all of us can relate to. (Also, this is my first story where I try to keep the reader gender neutral as to involve all genders. Like I said: trying. Don't know if I am doing it right).

A Feeling Of Normality (Marvel Cinematic Universe on Wattpad

Bucky Barnes × Female Reader

Who can understand the pain you had to go through better than someone who went through the same pain? The worlds of Bucky and Reader collide very soon. They develop a strong bond without needing many words but whilst the Reader learns to love Bucky's broken soul, he's still struggling to move on.

Story notes:

The story takes place in the Infinity Stone Saga between Civil War and Endgame. I tried to add the Reader without changing too much about the original story. I think my favorite detail is that I spent so much time watching different scenes to stay as close to the characters behavior and thoughts as possible.

Some Comments:

"Such an amazing story! Gave me amazing nightly reads."

"It's truly perfect. The way you describe the feelings of everyone made me fall in love with this. I also cried at many moments. [...] It was one of the best stories I read on Wattpad."

"I've loved the journey you took us on."

"This was fantastic and I loved every single moment of it!"

An Unknown Bond (Seven Deadly Sins) on Wattpad

Zeldris x female OC

The kingdom is freed from Hendrickson, when the OC named Yami feels a very strong power. The Holy War is not over. And the only way to avert the danger is for Yami to find Meliodas and fight against Zeldris and The Ten Commandments. There's just one problem: Thousands of years back, both brothers meant a lot to her and now it's time to choose a side.

Story Notes:

I'm particularly proud of this one, even though it has some writing errors. It was my first time writing an English fanfiction after a break of several years. But I hadn't finished the manga, the end of the final season hadn't been out yet and I was surprised at how close my story came to the actual storyline, even though an Own Character was added. So let's just say if you've finished Seven Deadly Sins, our endings were very similar!

Some comments:

"Been so long since I've read a wonderful book"

"I'm actually crying, thank you so much for writing this."

"Best book ever."

"I loved this book. The best fanfic ever read."

"Loved this story so much. It gave me the ignition I needed to keep writing stories, and I'm very thankful for it. So sad to see it end but so grateful to have found and read this book."

"This was great. I love the difference in the story. Not many can completely change a part of a story and not ruin it. You've changed the story so much but it's still a masterpiece. Thanks for the ride."

"Thank you for making this book. This is the type of story that can drive empty people on [...]. It was fun reading and definitely worth the time."