#hi score girl ii

[wileys-russo]

Hi ,

Platonic ingrid / Alexia with mapi and pollito " they are idiots , but they are my idiot , still they are idiots " in park or during matches

Thank you

part of the pollito universe our idiots II a.putellas, m.león, i.engen

"oye nena, you are going to send yourself deaf!" you winced at the pinch to your knee, pulling your headphones down around your neck and sending the older catalan a scowl.

"you told me you did not like my music. this was the solution!" you defended yourself, having been banned from any kind of music control in alexia's car.

personally you felt it was an unfair judgement. it wasn't your fault that the songs you liked to listen to just sounded best at max volume, or that you'd accidentally blown alexia's speaker system trying to prove that point.

"you never listen as it is chica, i need these to work." you whined at the sharp tug on your ear, unclicking your seatbelt and practically diving out of the car away from her, headphones left on your seat.

but of course the moment the door closed and you stood up straight, stretching out with a sigh did someone else grab at you, hands gripping your wrists and forcing your arms to twist behind your head.

"buenas tardes pollito!" the familiar voice cooed in your ear, a wet kiss to your cheek with a loud mwah having you grimacing in disgust and trying to yank your arms free.

"suéltame hijo de puta!" you spat, grunting with the effort of trying to pull away but it was fruitless as she merely laughed at your attempts. "such ugly words." mapi tutted at the language you hauled her way during the struggle, whining as mapi used your hands to make you hit yourself.

"alexia, ayuda!" you called out as the older girl finally emerged from the car, head having been buried in her phone. but as she opened her mouth to no doubt order mapi to let you go, someone else stepped in first.

"maría! let her go, what did i say about picking on her?" you perked up at the norweigans warning, mapi finally letting you go with a huff, hurrying to hide behind the taller girl as you lunged for her.

"well hello." ingrid chuckled as instead you moved to tightly hug her, flipping her girlfriend the finger behind her back and grinning as mapi narrowed her eyes but ultimately couldn't do anything about it with ingrid acting as a barrier between the two of you.

"hermana!" your head whipped around and your eyes lit up as another car door slammed closed, your older sister gabriella opening her arms expectantly as you let go of ingrid and rushed over toward her.

but her face fell and eyes rolled as you dropped to your knees in front and started to coo fondly at the fluffy newfoundland by her side, arms thrown around his neck and kisses pressed against his head as your sister sighed and tapped your shoulder, holding out his leash.

"me alegro de verte imbécil!" the older girl yelled after you as you took your dogs leash and sprinted off toward the park you'd all met up at, alexia chuckling at the sight and greeting your sister with a hug.

"and you are sure you are okay with him for the weekend?" gabriella asked with a frown, alexia nodding but not without a sigh. "she has been begging for weeks for one of them to come and visit, if she had her way all four of them would be here." your captain chuckled, and it was true you'd been pestering her forever to let one of your family dogs come and stay.

you'd been on fire the last few games, scoring five times in three matches and even getting your first start of the season.

then to try and sweeten alexia up more you'd pulled back your usual reckless activities and pranks, your list set aside for the time being as you focused on proving to her that you were responsible.

it was almost scary just how quickly you'd switched up.

you were always as helpful as you could be around the house, forever helping to clean up and even offering to cook (but after last time olga and alexia would politely decline, the bitter memory of your last culinary creation still lingering in their tastebuds and nightmares).

but now even at training you were on your very best behaviour, always offering to help the staff set up and pack down, the first to get boots on the grass and the last to run them off, doing your best not to interrupt anyone or goof off during each session.

plus given that the last time one of your dogs had come for a visit it was you sneaking him in behind alexia's back when she was away for the weekend.

and that resulted in her returning to two missing couch cushions (assumed to be eaten), a suspicious stain on the rug, two smashed vases and a nasty little surprise or three in her bedroom and ensuite that you'd missed and not cleaned up.

so after two weeks of your disturbingly angel like behaviour the midfielder had caved and agreed that one of the dogs could come for a weekend sleepover, but that was all she'd bend to.

of course you'd chosen your favourite, diego. a slobbery newfoundland which when he stood on his two back legs was taller than you were and was deaf in one ear.

but seeing the way your face lit up at the sight of him and hearing your laughter echo across the park as you both raced around it, alexia knew she'd made the right decision.

merely giving your sister a wave goodbye she rolled her eyes again as she bid the others farewell and slipped back into the car, a two and a half drive back to your childhood town ahead of her you made a mental note to call her later to thank her properly.

but for now all you could focus on was diego, ingrid and alexia disappearing to get a coffee as mapi stayed in the park with you, a backpack of diegos things in her hand as you squatted down and began to rifle through it.

"oye nena! what is the command for down?" mapi yelled out, struggling as diego's two front paws sat on her shoulder and she tried not to fall over under his weight, her neck craned away from his tongue which was trying its best to lick at her face.

"diego, bah!" you turned around and yelled, diego immediately dropping into a sitting position as mapi sighed in relief and cooed at him affectionately, scratching behind his ears and grinning at the way his back foot thumped against the ground happily.

"which ear is it?" mapi asked with a frown as you grabbed out his favourite toy, pointing to your right ear and whistling sharply, wiggling the worn leather football at the dog who dropped to his stomach with his tail wagging rapidly.

"go long!" you waved for mapi to back up as she jogged to create some distance between the pair of you. "remember how?" mapi cupped her hands over her mouth as you nodded, adjusting your grip on the NFL ball you'd brought back from your trip to texas in the pre-season.

before the season started properly you'd gone home to see your family for one of your older brothers birthdays, having gotten a cowboys jersey and the ball as him for a present. only the moment you'd stepped past the front door all four dogs had rushed at you, the ball snatched from your hand and rapidly becoming their present now.

"diego. vamos!" you yelled, launching the football toward mapi who side stepped to catch it, diego just arriving in front of her before she'd tossed the ball back to you, diego sprinting between the two of you and barking happily as you threw the ball back and forth.

you were still doing that same thing when ingrid and alexia returned, coffees in hand for all four of you as well as a water bottle for diego who was rapidly running out of steam, merely trotting between the pair of you now.

spotting her girlfriend mapi called it quits, dropping the ball and racing over as you rolled your eyes and went off to retrieve it, diego padding tiredly after you as you clipped his leash back on and tucked the ball under your arm and grabbing his backpack with the other.

grabbing out the portable water bowl you thanked ingrid as she handed you the bottle, pouring some out for diego who collapsed to his stomach, eagerly lapping away as you left him to it beneath the table, well covered with the shade.

"decaf." alexia warned handing you the iced coffee as you rolled your eyes but kept your discontent to yourself.

olga was more than happy to pour you a proper coffee of a morning when alexia wasn't home, but the midfielder herself remained firm in her belief that you had more than enough energy without adding caffeine to it.

"pollito what is this?" mapi pulled a face as she tugged a heavy weighted vest out of the backpack.

"diegos anxiety vest! he gets night terrors and he is scared of thunder, it might storm this weekend." you explained with a shrug as if that was normal, missing the odd look shared between the three older girls at the picnic table.

"ven aquí pequeña, i want to try something." mapi beckoned you over, confusion in your features as she slipped the vest over your head. "amiga what-" alexia started, cut off as there was a loud thud, mapi's fist thumping against the vest and hitting you right in the stomach.

"maría!" ingrid gasped in shock, smacking the back of the defenders neck who choked on a mouthful of coffee and glared at her over her shoulder, coughing and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"qué? that did not hurt her! right?" she looked to you as you nodded in surprise, testing it again by punching yourself now and lighting up as you barely felt a thing.

"tonta! take that off, it smells." alexia sniffed the air and pulled a face, trying to pull it off you as you pushed her hands off, catching mapi's eye and suggestive grin, diegos football in her hands as she cocked an eyebrow at you.

it seemed the two of you had a brief and silent conversation across the table, alexia and ingrid clueless to your plans as you suddenly nodded and eagerly raced off after the tattooed zaragozan.

for once diego didn't follow you, just watching on tiredly from his shady recluse under the table as ingrids foot rubbed gently against his hip.

both ingrid and alexia watched on themselves, curious where this was going as you and mapi talked for a second before doing your handshake which had them both rolling their eyes, the two of you having been working on it as a goal celebration for weeks now.

once again mapi backed up to put some distance between the two of you, winding up to throw the ball as you squatted down ready to catch, the vest still sitting across your chest.

"oh no." ingrid realised first where this was going as mapi launched the ball and started to sprint toward you, the ball caught in your hands as you stood up and clearly braced yourself.

"qué son-" alexia didn't even get to finish her question before it was answered for her, mapi's body hurtling into yours and tackling you down to the ground, shoulder slamming into your stomach as there was a thump, your body hitting the grass.

alexia was up on her feet with a face like thunder, ready to march right over and pull the pair of you off one another, a lecture on the tip of her tongue as mapi rolled off of you and collapsed into a fit of laughter which you soon joined in with.

"estoy bien ale!" you yelled out, spotting alexia ready to make her way over and sending her a thumbs up and a wolfish grin, mapi hopping up and holding out a hand to help you do the same.

"they are idiots." alexia grumbled, a hint of a smile on her face but eyebrows furrowed together as she slowly sat back down with a shake of her head.

mapi's laughter again flew through the air as you'd grabbed her hand to be helped up, the older girl pulling you halfway before letting go and sending you thumping back down onto your back.

"but they are our idiots." ingrid added onto alexia's previous statement with a chuckle of her own, the two of them watching on with small smiles at you and mapi.

"puta!" you managed out between your own laughter, foot lashing out at mapi as she dodged it and tossed the football at you, collapsing beside you as it bounced off your head and you whined, launching at her as the two of you rolled around on the grass wrestling.

"sí. but still, they are idiots."

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

summary: In a town divided between two rival street racing crews, you’re caught between your cousin’s crew, the Sinners and Jenna, a mysterious girl from the Vipers who’s more than just a pretty face. Both of you need something from each other, but as the stakes rise, you’re left wondering: what makes your heart race more— the thrill of the competition or the girl who’s impossible to ignore?

word count: 6.7k

A very special thank you to @ortegalvr for giving me the very much needed nudge to start moving my work to Tumblr. And to @cobaltperun for being so patient and thoroughly answering all my questions, essentially giving me (a Tumblr noob) a dummies guide to Tumblr. Appreciate you both!

————

Why is it that some of the best feel goods in life can just as easily kill you if you indulge in it too much?

Alcohol, drugs, illegal driving... love?

Fortunately for you, you only indulge in only one of those.

There's just something so satisfying about watching your car pick up speed; watching the little arm on the speed gauge reach it's full potential.  If cars are able to reach those speeds then they should, it's a fact of the matter.  And when you're surrounded by cars all your life and the only reason you have a livelihood is because of those three thousand pounds of steel, you're bound to make some fun out of it.

You push down on the accelerator with more pressure, reaching speeds of almost 180 km/hour when you see the flashing blue and red lights in the rear view mirror.

The feds.

"Took them longer than usual." you thought out loud.

Now there could be two reasons they're after you. The obvious, speeding.  But then there's also the fact that you stole the beauty you're driving from the town's richest neighbourhood, Summer Valley.

Of course stealing it is not enough for you, so you made some tweaks here and there in the garage so this ride could be even more illegal than it already is, and now you're selling it to an off the grid buyer.

Escaping the police wasn't something new, it's become routinely. You'd be more concerned if the cops weren't on your tail during a delivery.

You make a sharp turn right into a short alleyway marking the start of this high speed chase.

Being the exceptional mechanic that you are, your work on this car has given it a larger than usual turn radius which allowed the turn to be much smoother, giving you a good head start.

"Why are these fuckers in the middle of road!" You yelled panickily, upon seeing the herd of people in front of you.

You don't know when people decided to ditch the sidewalks and walk in the middle of the road, but clearly, you missed the memo.  You were forced to sound the horn a few times, and luckily the pedestrians were responsive and didn't cause you to lose your lead on the cop, but it may have alerted them—if you were lucky enough to lose them in the first place.

Once you finally got out of the alleyway, your phone started ringing, stealing your focus from the dark road in front of you to glance down at your phone for a millisecond.

Anton. Your cousin.

Anton Y/l/n. Your older cousin of three years. He was an impulsive firecracker that has the tendency to rope you into his shenanigans, not deliberately of course.  Despite his flaws he'd do anything for family. You like to joke around and call him Dom Toretto, and those jokes have only gotten worse after he buzzed his head after an unfortunate grease spillage accident that was entirely his and your fault.

That five letter name is the most anxiety inducing noun known to man in your books and everytime you answer the older guy's call, you feel as if your gambling your mental health.  He could either be calling to tell you about a huge car gig that he scored for you both or that he owes a million dollar debt.

You legit never know.

You groan and answer the call, putting it on speaker and tossing the phone to the passenger seat.

"What now?" you yell over the sounds of acceleration and police sirens.

"Come to Chester and Dan's lane." He says straight to the point, not questioning the noises he hears on your end of the phone. "After your delivery of course." At this point he's used to his little cousin getting chased down by the cops too.

"What's happening at Chester and Dan?" You ask looking at the side view mirror, squinting at the piercing blue and red flashes.

"Sinners are doing a couple rounds before the big race tomorrow. Join us, it'll be fun."

You sigh at your cousin's billionth attempt to get you acquainted with the Sinners. He's been trying ever since he first started as a general member of the club to now, the leader of the street race club.

"We'll see, I'm kind of in the middle of something," you shout over the sound of the tires screeching from a sharp turn you just made.

"Ugh! I'm not gullible like the other fucks in your life. Don't 'we'll see' me thinking it'll keep me satisfied and off your back for a while."

"I'm busy."

"Just step on the gas you pussy, going past two hundred won't kill you."

With a roll of your eyes, you think that you've entertained Anton's wishes enough and hung up the phone with the determination to lose the cops and deliver the 1969 Ford Mustang you're driving in one piece.

Twenty minutes later, a handful full of sharp turns later and momentarily stopping to let a group of duckling cross the street, you were finally at your destination.

"Car looks good to me," the off the grid buyer who introduced himself as John said with an approving nod after surveying the vintage black vehicle for quite some time.

You let out a breath.  You've made your fair share of deliveries over the years, and just like Anton's calls, you never know the type of customer you're gonna get.

Some customers complain about the price of parts, or a scratch on the car that doesn't exist or they go back on their word and attempt to haggle the price to something ridiculous.

"Nice work kid," John says handing you the promised amount you both settled on a couple weeks prior.  You didn't have to count the stash of cash to know that all of it was there.

"Finally," you sigh, smiling at the wad of cash in your hands and running your thumb along the bills, walking towards the direction of home.

Suddenly a car pulls up. "Give me the cash or give me your life. Your choice." Before you can register the words, you're met with the barrel of a pistol pointed at you through an unrolled passenger side window.

You knew you weren't a fighter nor were you confrontational. Even though you grew up in the tougher parts of the town, your brain is what got you out of your predicaments. If you were a fighter you wouldn't be spending your life stealing, fixing and selling cars.

Laughter interrupted you from handing over the cash.  Confused, you focus on the face holding the glock, and all previous thoughts disappeared and was now replaced with relief and anger.

"What the fuck Anton!" you angrily say, hopping into the passenger seat of the car next to your laughing cousin.

You knew better than to question the fact that your cousin had a gun. When you're the leader of a street race club, you need protection. Especially when all the other club owners own a gun, and fights always break out.

"You should've seen your face," he slips out in his fit of laughter, beginning to drive off as his cousin settles in his car.

"I thought you were street smart, you know better than to walk around this time flaunting your cash."

"I can handle myself, but yeah I should've been more careful. I was just a little excited finally getting paid," You admit, recalling the rut you've recently been in and the struggles you and your mother have recently been facing to make ends meet.

Anton acknowledges the response, "You know you could always ask me for help?

"My mom wouldn't take it."

Anton let's out a loud sigh, "No offense dude, but I don't get your mom's deal.  She acts as if I'm the reason our dads are dead."

You wince at the mention of your dead fathers.  Sometimes you wonder how Anton could talk about this stuff so easily.  "You just resemble Uncle so much, and to be fair you are following the same path as him."

Anton's father and yours, who were brothers, founded the Sinner's Race Club.  Anton's dad had always been your father's right-hand man in races, often riding in the passenger seat.  During a high-stakes race meant to settle a territory dispute, the brakes on your father's car failed, and both men were pronounced dead at the scene.

Since then, your mom understandably kept you away from cars, Anton, and anything related to the race club. She forbade you from getting a driver's license and doesn't even know you have one. Hiding it wasn't difficult, though, given that your family has more pressing expenses than a car.

"Alright, we're here," Your cousin announces, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I still think you should show up tomorrow. Sleep on it."

You step out of the car, once Anton puts the money you made from your sale in a spare backpack he had. So your mom wouldn't ask questions.

"How was your shift?" your mom asks from the couch as you walk through the door.

"Fine, just sore from lifting all those boxes," you lie smoothly.

"Hmm, get to bed early tonight."

As you head toward your room, her voice calls out again. "Oh, and Y/n," she says, making you turn back. "That better not have been Anton dropping you off."

You stay silent and head to bed, unsure of what tomorrow will bring.

————

"How the hell does your mom not catch on? She really thinks some warehouse gig's got you pullin' in forty grand at a time?"

You wipe the sweat of your brow, while you grab a car wrench. "She doesn't know I make that much, I help pay the rent and get food on our table. The rest I save."

"Smart. So, what's the big plan? Get outta Brimstone? Buy yourself a mansion in Summer Valley?" Mason sneers condescendingly.

This morning, you woke up to a text from Anton that convinced you to at least help prep the cars for tonight's big race, even if you don't plan on showing up. Now, you find yourself at the Brimstone Sinner's garage, the garage where you do your car modifications which sits at the edge of Sinner territory.

The place is buzzing with other club members scattered around, working on various cars. You, Anton, and—unfortunately—Mason, a friend of Anton's, who somehow wormed his way into the conversation, are huddled by the main cars, making sure they're in prime condition for the race.

"Ay! Stop distracting my best mechanic!" Anton shouts over the hood of the car to Mason.

Before you knew it you were rolling under the car via the creeper to work on the underside of the car. As you were finishing up you suddenly heard the garage go dead silent, but you didn't know why since your view was limited.

You hear Anton break the silence, "You got some fucking nerve walking into my garage asshat."

As you were lying on your back you could see about one foot from the ground up. You couldn't see who it was, but you could tell where they were from. The grey Dior dunks paired with the most unfashionable pants ever told you everything you needed to know.

Someone from Summer Valley is here.

Then came the laugh. That short, arrogant chuckle, the kind that practically exhaled wealth. Privilege. The very thing you despised.

"Just wanted to see you pussies before you lose all your dignity—oh and your garage. I'm already imagining what I'm gonna do with the place," the voice laughs again.

The conversation around you fades as your mind fixates on a single phrase. Lose the garage? Your hand curls into a tight fist, knuckles turning white. Did your dumbass cousin actually gamble the garage for tonight's race?

You try to focus your hearing, trying to see if anyone else is upset by the fact. But it's silent, they're unfazed, indifferent to the fact that Anton—the club's supposed leader—might have just wagered the club's most valuable asset. Property. You let out a sharp exhale. This is exactly what you couldn't stand about racers. They're all thrill-seeking junkies who only care about going fast. Does no one else here realize the gravity of losing this garage?

Anton snaps you back to reality. "Percy you ain't riding tonight if you're dead. Now get the fuck out before you catch a bullet."

Percy.

Leader of the Summer Valley Vipers. Just another privileged trust fund brat, bored one summer, who saw that the kids on the wrong side of the tracks had a race club and wanted in. So formed his own club. For the Vipers, racing was a hobby. For anyone from Brimstone? It was survival.

Once the obnoxious figure in those ridiculous pants left the garage, you rolled out from under the car, wiping grease from your hands. A quick glance around told you that everyone had already returned to their tasks, like the tense exchange with the Viper hadn't even happened.

Jaw clenched, you stomped over to Anton and gave him a firm nudge—just hard enough to make your frustration clear. "What the hell, Ant?"

Anton, mid-conversation with Madison—one of the club's members—turned to face you, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"What? Seriously?" you snap. "What was Pissy going on about, losing the garage?"

He let out a long, drawn-out sigh before flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Relax, Y/n. It's just to raise the stakes, nothing serious."

"Nothing serious?" you say, mirroring his words once again. "This is my fucking livelihood, I can't live without this garage Ant? Where else am I going to fix cars?!"

Anton calmy takes one last drag, puts out his cigarette, and gestures for you to follow him outside of the garage, away from the rest of the club members.

Once you were outside Anton wasted no time in getting to the point.

"I'm only gonna say this once, Y/n. Don't ever talk to me like that in front of my people again. I run this crew."

His gaze softened slightly as he added, "I know we're family, but out here, I gotta be their leader. You get me?"

You nod understanding the politics of running a club like this. It wasn't simple and it wasn't like Anton was being rude to you.

"Now kid, listen to me very closely." Anton starts, his eyes narrowing, words firm.

You hated when he called you "kid," and Anton damn well knew it.  He was only three years older, but you decided to bite your tongue this time, sensing he had something important to say.

"You don't take risks," he said, his voice steady.

You opened your mouth to cut him off, but he quickly held up a hand, his words rushing out before you could get a word in. "—hold on, let me finish! I know you think stealing cars, making illegal mods, and dodging the feds is risky—and yeah, it is... for most people. But not for you. You're too good at it. It's not a risk when you know you're always gonna pull it off. You're in your comfort zone. You don't even flinch anymore."

You crossed your arms, shaking your head. "I don't need the gamble, Ant. Why would I put myself in a position to lose something—everything?"

"But why wouldn't you?" Anton fires back passionately.

For a moment neither of you say anything.

"That's the problem, Y/n," he said finally, his voice low. "You don't take real risks anymore because you're afraid to lose. But sometimes... you gotta lose something to really win. You know what I'm saying?"

You frowned, not fully understanding. "What's that even supposed to mean? I'm not trying to play some high-stakes game just for the thrill of it."

"That's not what I'm talking about, kid. I'm saying there's more to life than just getting by. You can't just keep doing the same shit because it's easy and familiar.  You gotta challenge yourself, push yourself outta that comfort zone. That's where the real reward is."

You shifted uncomfortably, not liking where the conversation was headed. "So what, you want me to throw myself into danger for no reason? What are you really getting at, Ant?"

His gaze stayed steady, not backing down. "I'm talking about the garage. Everything we've built. If you keep playing it safe, we'll stay small. But if we take some risks?  We could grow this into something huge, we could run the city, Y/n."

His words hung in the air, heavy. You hesitated, feeling the pressure. "And what's the catch?"

A slow smirk crept onto his face as he leaned in. "The catch is, we go all in, or we lose it all."

Your head shook slightly, confused and uneasy. Anton sounded insane right now, with all this talk of taking over the city. "I don't know," you muttered, your voice wavering.

"I'm not saying you have to. Maybe this," he said, gesturing around the garage and the cars. "...isn't your thing, and that's fine. But you've got to find what is. What's your purpose, your drive Y/n/n? What makes your heart race? What's worth risking everything for?"

————

"Just get home safe, and grab me a pack of cigarettes on your way," your mom says, her tone casual.  You exhale, relieved she let you leave without too many questions.

After your talk with Anton, and spending hours tuning up cars for the race, you head home, but your mind lingers on what your cousin said earlier.  His words hit deeper than you care to admit—he was right.  You've been stuck in your comfort zone for far too long, and you can't even remember the last time you did something that pushed your boundaries.

So, here you are, lying to your mom about getting called in for a late night shift when in reality, you're on your way to the race between the Sinners and Vipers.

Anton was practically beaming when you told him you were finally coming to the race.  He couldn't wait to give you a ride to the track.

"Took me, what—six years?  Finally got you to show up," Anton shakes his head, laughing as you slide into the passenger seat.

You ignore his teasing, cutting straight to the point.  "You nervous?"

"Nah, fuck no. Pussy's a trash driver—he's got nothing on me."

Your eyes widen.  "Wait, this is a title race?"

You didn't realize the leaders of both clubs were squaring off tonight.  A title race meant more than bragging rights—both sides were gambling big, this race could mean life or death for both clubs.

You were about to ask what else Anton had on the line besides the garage, but the car suddenly surged forward, the burst of speed nearly throwing you out of your seat.

"What the hell! Slow down!" you shout, gripping the armrest tightly.

"Relax, I'm not even hitting two hundred yet—"

The older driver begins to roll his windows up, a sign that he wants to go even faster. The world outside blurred as the engine roared, drowning out the sound of your pulse hammering in your ears.

"Anton. Stop." Your voice is steady, firmer than ever leaving no room for argument.

The driver sighs, gradually slowing the car down to legal road limits.  "You need to get over it eventually Y/n."

Those were the last words said for the remainder of the ride, you didn't want to argue with your cousin before he has one of the biggest races of his life. He knew why you were antsy with the going beyond a certain speed limit. He knew. Of course, he knew. The crash. The speed. The helplessness you felt back then. You gritted your teeth, willing yourself not to dwell on it, not to bring it up again.

You finally pull into the track, and your eyes widen in awe. It's like you were stepping onto the movie set of Fast and Furious. The area is packed with custom cars, their paint jobs gleaming under the glow of neon lights and street lamps, unique to fit the personality of each driver. Engines roar and rev, filling the air with a pulse that matches the energy of the crowd. People are everywhere—leaning against cars, laughing, shouting over the music blasting from speakers.

The race course itself stretches down a wide, abandoned road, littered with warehouses and graffiti-covered walls. Smoke drifts in the air from burning rubber, and the smell of gasoline is thick. You can feel the intensity of the competition buzzing in the air. This wasn't just a race—it was a spectacle, alive with adrenaline and danger.

Anton slowly turns into beneath a large abandoned overpass that you've often heard was a hotspot for racers and ragers. You pan your eyes across the windshield and immediately spot the rival race crews: a sea of black jackets to the right and a wall of red to the left, each group eyeing each other with the tension only moments from snapping.

You were so caught up in the moment you didn't even notice Anton turn the volume up as he played I Don't Fuck with You by Big Sean while rolling past the Viper's crew. Typical Anton—always stirring the pot. The Vipers glared but didn't act, clearly aware of who you were. You both look at each other and laugh as you join the rest of your crew a bit further into the underpass.

As your cousin parks the car he grabs something from the back seat and tosses it onto your lap—a black leather jacket.

You stared at it for a moment.  The design was unmistakable. A large, detailed skull with flames rising behind it, symbolizing both danger and speed. The club's name, Sinners, arched above the skull in bold gothic, tattoo-style font. The club your father founded. The legacy you never wanted.

Your chest tightened as you ran your fingers over the smooth leather. Putting it on would be more than just an outfit choice—it would be an open declaration of association. Your mom would kill you if she ever found out.

Sensing your hesitation, Anton laughed. "Relax, I can see the steam coming out of your head from here. You don't have to wear it, alright? Just throw it over your shoulder or something. People need to know who you're with, that's all."

With that, you both stepped out of the car, and the cheers erupted. They were loud, wild, and unmistakably for Anton—he was their leader. But as the energy surged through the crowd, you couldn't help but wonder if a few of those cheers were meant for you. After all, it was your first time showing up to a race.

As you slipped into the crowd, a few familiar faces greeted you with nods and casual grins, clearly surprised to see you here.  You exchanged small talk with some of the members, their conversations a mix of race gossip, bets, and tales of past victories. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, but as the minutes ticked by, you felt the need to break away, the noise and energy overwhelming you.

Stepping out from the cluster of people, you wandered toward the edge of the underpass, taking in the scene.  The place was massive—graffiti-streaked pillars towering above, just like the one you were leaning against.

You took this moment to observe the Vipers. You've always had the displeasure of seeing the odd one or two while you were out doing your runs, but this is the first time you've seen the entire crew together. Your eyes land on a certain member. Percy. The only one that had a leader patch on the right sleeve of his jacket, an absurd attempt to assert dominance. You laugh at how lame this guy is. Anton exudes leader, he didn't need a patch on his sleeve reminding everyone he is one.

As you continue making your observations about the Vipers, from the corner of your eye, you noticed movement—someone else seeking the same kind of quiet as you. You glanced over, and there she was, leaning against the opposite side of the same pillar as you. The roar of engines and the blaring music made it easy to miss each other until now.

She was alone, her red jacket slung casually over her arm, a cigarette between her fingers. The contrast of her dark hair against the dim lighting made her stand out even more, and for a moment, she hadn't noticed you.

You tried not to stare, but there was something magnetic about her presence—like the calm before a storm. She flicked her eyes in your direction and froze, her gaze locking onto yours as if she wasn't expecting company either.

She glanced up at the black jacket draped over your shoulder, then at her own red one, casually slung over her arm. With a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk, she broke the silence.

"Guess neither of us is feeling the uniform tonight, huh?" she said, flicking ash from her cigarette, her voice low and surprisingly soft.

Of course her voice had to be the sexiest thing you've ever heard. You remained silent, not because you wanted to, but you didn't know how to respond. This is the first time you've ever spoken to a Viper—a hot Viper at that. You didn't know how to interact with a pretty girl, let alone someone who should be your sworn rival.

"Didn't think anyone else would find this spot," she sighs, not sure if she was saying it to you or outloud to herself.

You pushed off the pillar slightly, offering a small shrug. "Needed a breather."

She smirked, exhaling smoke slowly. "Yeah? Thought you Sinners thrived on chaos."

You glanced at the jacket hanging over your shoulder, then back at her. "Guess I'm not like the others." You weren't going to explain to a stranger that you technically aren't a Sinner but you also are.

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Clearly." There was a pause, then she gave you a once-over, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "So, what's a Sinner doing hiding out here, away from the action?"

You crossed your arms, feeling the pull of the conversation. "Could ask you the same thing. Vipers don't usually stray from their pack."

She let out a soft laugh, the sound almost lost in the night air. "Maybe I needed a break from all the posturing. You know how it is."

Posturing. What an interesting way to put it you thought to yourself. She wasn't wrong,  but it was an oddly honest thing to bring up barely thirty seconds into the conversation. As intrigued as you are, you're also cautious.

You glanced her over in return, taking in her outfit—black combat boots, short black shorts, and a plain white tee, almost identical to the one you were wearing. It was shocking to see a girl from Summer Valley dressed so simply. But the simplicity suited her. She didn't need to be extravagant to stand out, if it wasn't for the jacket on her arm, you would've totally mistaken her for a flag girl, the ones who countdown the race. You've always heard that they're the most beautiful girls on the track, but clearly it wasn't the case tonight.

Your eyes met again, and something unspoken hung in the air between you. Two people from rival crews, both stepping away from the world that defined them.

She held your gaze. You didn't know what it was behind those intense brown eyes. Hatred, curiosity, attraction, a cry for help? You couldn't tell, but you also didn't want to define it. Defining it may mean having to look away. And you didn't want that.  Maybe she didn't either, you doubt she would force herself to stay here with you if she didn't want to.

The universe however, had other plans. The voice of one of the flag girls crackled through the megaphone, cutting through the tension. "The big day is finally here!" The rest of her corny speech faded into the background as your focus remained on the girl in front of you.  She tore her eyes from yours, sighed, and glanced back at her club.

"I have to go.  See you around, Greaser."

"Greaser?" you echoed, raising a brow.

She smirked, giving you a slow, deliberate once-over before turning away.

As much as you wanted to watch her walk away, curiosity tugged at you, pulling your gaze down.  You glanced at yourself and chuckled softly—faded blue jeans, white tee, and a black leather jacket.  Yeah, you did kind of look like a greaser tonight.

But then you saw it.  A grease stain on your shirt.  You chuckled softly. So that's why.

You decided it was time to head back to your group. You return a bit more upbeat than when you'd left. As you approached, you noticed Anton climbing into the car you'd been working on earlier with the crew gathered around, wishing him luck before the race. That's when he spotted you at the edge of the crowd and waved you over. The group parted, and soon you were standing face to face with Anton.

"You look happy. Having fun?" he shouted over the roar of his engine and Percy's nearby.

"It's been pretty cool," you replied with a shrug, nodding along—though it wasn't the race itself you were enjoying, but who it had brought here.

Anton hummed in approval before dapping you up and pulling you into a quick hug. "I'll see you in a bit," he grinned, hyping up his team one last time before sliding into the driver's seat, Mason settling into the passenger side.

As Anton shut his door, your eyes drifted to the car next to his. You watched Percy with his crew, their energy almost a mirror of your own. But then you saw something that left you utterly confused.

The mystery girl. She was on her tiptoes, arms wrapped around Percy's neck in a hug that felt way too intimate for your liking.

Is she his girl?  Disgusting. More thoughts crept in, but you quickly shut it down. She was a Viper, and you'd only talked to her for ten minutes. You didn't get to feel some type of way about it. She was just...intriguing. Nothing more.

You shook your head, trying to dispel the thoughts. Focus on the race, focus on Anton. You told yourself.

You take a step back and settle in a spot between Madison and Hunter as the flag girls strutted to the front of the starting line, their boots clicking against the asphalt. One girl raised a checkered flag high, her red lips curled into a seductive smile as she glanced at both drivers. The other girl held the megaphone to her lips.

"Racers, are you ready?!" Her voice echoed across the lot, the engines revving in response.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!" Time seemed to slow. The crowd held its breath, and for a split second all that existed was the hum of engines, the gleam of metal, and the flashing lights.

Then, with a flick of her wrist, the flag girl swung the checkered flag down, and the cars exploded off the line.

Anton's car launched forward, while Percy's stayed right on his tail, neck and neck. The crowd erupted into cheers, the sheer speed of the cars leaving only a blur of metal behind them as they tore down the street.

With the cars gone you had nothing left to distract you from your thoughts. What were you genuinely doing here, you ask yourself.

Your eyes wandered back to the spot where you had last seen her. That girl—the one who had slipped into your mind with just a few words and a lingering look. Now, with Percy racing down the track, she stood with another Viper. This one was taller, with short hair, and they were both laughing, completely at ease with each other.

You laugh in disbelief shaking your head. This didn't seem like posturing to you, she seemed like she had fit right in. But again you catch yourself thinking, why were you even upset? She never said she hated her crew, she never said anything that implied she was like you, and now you wonder if you interpreted your interaction with her to something you wanted it to be rather than what it actually was.

The thought crept in, unwelcome. Maybe you were projecting your own loneliness, your desire to feel seen, onto someone who didn't even feel the same way. Someone who was just passing time in a moment. She was a Viper, fully a part of this world, while you were just an outsider passing through.

You turned to Madison and Hunter. "I'm gonna grab a drink. You guys want anything?"

They shook their heads, and you made your way to one of the cars stocked with drinks in the trunk. You opted for a soda rather than a beer.

You leaned against the car, slowly sipping your soda and trying to clear your head. The night had taken a strange turn—what started as excitement was now muddy with emotions you weren't sure how to handle. The hum of conversation and the occasional laughter from nearby crews were the only sounds cutting through the noise in your mind.

Then, suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.

It was subtle at first, a ripple of unease passing through the crowd. You heard hushed whispers and saw people glancing toward the far end of the lot. Then, like a wave crashing down, the sound of sirens pierced the night.

"Cops!" someone yelled, and the panic spread like wildfire.

People scrambled in every direction, grabbing their things and sprinting for their cars. Engines roared to life, and tires screeched as racers and spectators alike tried to escape before the police descended on the scene.

You tossed your soda to the ground, adrenaline surging through you as you looked around for Madison and Hunter, but they were already sprinting towards the opposite direction with the rest of the crew. You turned to follow, but something made you stop.

She wasn't moving.

In the chaos, you spotted her standing in the middle of the lot, frozen, her eyes wide but not making any attempt to run.  She wasn't panicked—she looked more...indifferent, like the flashing red and blue lights didn't mean anything to her.

Without thinking, you darted towards her. Your heart pounded in your chest as you weaved through the fleeing crowd, the sound of sirens growing louder by the second. When you reached her, you didn't hesitate—you grabbed her arm and pulled her.

"Come on!" you shouted over the noise, but she barely reacted, her feet stumbling as you dragged her away from the open lot.

You didn't stop until you reached the mouth of a narrow alleyway between two buildings. You pulled her into the shadows, pressing your back against the wall as you caught your breath. She was in front of you, calm in a way that made no sense considering the chaos unfolding behind you.

She gazed at you, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she was catching her breath. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

You shot her a look, exasperated. "You're welcome."

The distant sound of police radios crackled through the air as you both stood in silence, waiting for the madness to pass.

"You really should be more careful," you said, trying to break the silence. "It's not safe out there, especially with the cops around."

She shrugged, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I guess I'm just used to it. But I appreciate the concern."

You couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and curiosity. "So, what do you usually do in moments like this? Just... stand around?"

Her laughter was light, almost melodic. "Well, not exactly. Usually, I'd just blend in and keep my head down. But you've thrown a bit of a wrench in that plan."

"Is that a bad thing?" you asked, intrigued.

"Not necessarily," she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But it's definitely unexpected."

You took a step closer, feeling the distance between you narrow. "And here I thought I was just being a good Samaritan."

"Good Samaritan, huh?" She raised an eyebrow, playful yet cautious. "Seems like you might be getting in over your head, then."

"Maybe I like the thrill," you shot back, trying to keep the mood light. But beneath the banter, you both knew the stakes were higher than either of you wanted to admit.

"Well, be careful what you wish for," she said softly, her expression shifting momentarily to something more serious. "Not everything is as exciting as it seems."

You paused, trying to decipher her words. There was a depth to her that hinted at more than she was letting on. But before you could ask, she turned her gaze back to the alley,

Your phone suddenly dinged, breaking the tension. You glanced at it and saw a message from Mason.

"Seems like the cops cut the race short. Your crew lives to see another day."

You chuckled, but she didn't respond, just watching you with her doe eyes. You thought about what it would be like to give in.

But just then, the light caught her wrist, glinting off the expensive bracelet she wore.  The sight of it sent a jolt through you—a stark reminder that she was from Summer Valley, a Viper, and probably a handful you couldn't handle.

The realization hit hard, and you felt a rush of uncertainty. She was part of a world you didn't want to dive into, no matter how intriguing she might be.

You decide to walk off, out of the alley.

"Hey! Where are you going?" she called out, jogging to catch up.

"Home. The cops seem to be gone," you replied, keeping your tone light, words short.

The brown-eyed girl looked confused, she thought you were building a connection. Now you were suddenly dismissive, leaving without a word, and you could see her trying to process it.

"...Wait, um..." she stammered, hesitating as if searching for the right words.

You turned back, sensing the moment hanging between you.  You had a feeling you knew what she was going to say, and a knot formed in your stomach.

You took a step back, breaking the spell. "I really should go," you said, your voice firm, not giving her a chance to speak. You turned away, leaving her standing there, a mixture of confusion and disappointment on her face.

With that, you turned and walked deeper into the night. You could feel her watching you, but you kept moving, the weight of your decision heavy in your chest. But telling her your name would mean chaos.

As you navigated the alley, Anton's words echoed in your mind. "Maybe this isn't your thing, and that's fine. But you've got to find what is. What's your purpose, your drive? What makes your heart race? What's worth risking everything for?"

You were sure it wasn't her. As much as you felt a connection, you couldn't get further involved with the race world. She was just a pretty girl you met, and seemed to have some semblance of intellectuality. You know how this ends and its not pretty. You had responsibilities waiting at home—your mom counting on you, the weight of family expectations pressing down like a heavy fog.  You had to figure things out on your own, even if it meant leaving her behind.

You can't just be the calculated person that you are and then immediately start taking risks because your cousin told you to. This was your nature. Careful.

Still, a part of you wondered if the real risk was not in chasing the girl but in denying yourself the chance to discover what could truly make your heart race.

next chapter

[pshcomforts]

➳ afterglow | psh. — requested

non!idolsunghoon x olderfem!reader (feat. mark from nct)

“tell me this love is worth the fight”

synopsis: you forgot a special celebration with sunghoon, leading you guys to argue.

warnings/content: written in third pov. angst to fluff! slightly suggestive at the end (but nothing happens). age gap! (sunghoon’s 21, and reader’s 23). cursing! not proofread. sunghoon doubts himself :(

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.5k

a/n: message request.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: afterglow by taylor swift

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:28 ───────|──────────── -2:14

tick. tick. tick.

the clock ran faster within each minute y/n glanced back at it.

a sigh left her throat as she focused back onto her computer — typing in data to keep the files updated.

the girl worked an office job in her early twenties. it wasn’t as ideal, but for a paid internship, she had to take it.

months had passed since she started the job, and whispers of a promising position had been hinted each day she walked in.

and since then, y/n’s attempted to keep her score of being a trusting employee on a streak by staying past office hours.

she was a workaholic, if you will.

but who could blame her? the pay was good, and the work was her field of interest.

however, today was not one of those days she was willing to stay late for.

it couldn’t.

today marked her 1000 day anniversary with her boyfriend, park sunghoon.

her lovely, patient boyfriend who was younger than her by two years. the boy was in his early twenties, barely getting the hang of life with college.

a few significant dates had already been missed with the internship in the way, so she couldn’t possibly miss this one.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a quick buzz formed in y/n’s pockets, allowing her to take a swift glance at her phone.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 1000 day celebration with hoonie ੈ♡˳ ࿐ྂ

she groaned out a sigh as she felt a sudden pressure weigh in at her heart.

“just a little longer,” her voice mumbled before staring down at the time.

[ 4:37pm ] — it beamed.

just a few hours left and she’d soon be in sunghoon’s forgiving arms.

“hey y/n,” a deep voice called out to her, snapping the girl out of her guilt-eating thoughts.

she turned to her superior, mark, who was wearing a friendly smile.

“yeah?” she tried to sound cheerful.

“i know you get off soon, but with your hard work noticed, i was wondering if you could help out with a little more paper work?” he uttered with puppy eyes. “it’s just.. the way you file and organize suits how i usually go in on it. would it be okay?”

y/n froze in her tracks, conflicted with her options — leave work as planned for the important date with sunghoon, or further impress the manager for a permanent job.

“it wouldn’t take long, would it?” she chewed her cheek, lips almost bleeding with how much she awaited for an answer.

mark gave a light chuckle. “no, i wouldn’t make you stay too late, y/n. you always do that to yourself.”

the girl awkwardly laughed in return, murmuring empty words of how much effort she was willing to put in for the company before he left her with the paperwork.

her original plan of leaving early from such an exhausting shift had taken a pause as she huffed at the amount of files in front of her.

“shouldn’t take too long..,” she tried to reassure under her breath.

in seconds, y/n dove into the piles of paperwork — attempting to finish on time.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[ 6:48pm ]

time was slipping through her fingers and the girl wasn’t even noticing it.

minutes passed within each time she glanced back at the clock, irking her to go quicker.

she had to finish on time, she just had to, at least before 9:30pm.

[ 8:21pm ]

coworkers around were now finishing their shift, leaving their cubicles to clock out for the night — leaving y/n with a few others.

“come on, i’m almost there.” she whispered to herself, sweat nearly dripping down her face with how much work she was powering through.

“good night, y/n!” — a few workers would beam to her, causing her to give a quick wave before going back to her job.

[ 9:18pm ]

the whole building was nearly abandoned now. the only remaining employees were mark, y/n, and about two more workaholics.

she was almost done. almost.

with such little time left, panic began to exude in the girl’s body.

“12 more minutes.. please,” she sighed.

a quick glance to the time was made before she decided to shut down every time displayed in front of her.

it was risky, but looking at the clock would only emit more anxiety to finish.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

soon enough, the filing job had run its course, and y/n was done.

“finally!” she beamed, stretching out every bone in her body.

her tired eyes glanced everywhere for the time before she realized her method of avoidance from earlier.

“did i make it..?” she questioned, but with every nervous breath she took, it was obvious she had no hope she did.

slowly, the girl lifted her phone to check the time.

[ 10:03pm ]

her fatigued body froze at the bright screen before feeling it defrost with a shiver to the spine.

she felt her breath get heavy as she searched for a message from sunghoon — just anything that may ease the guilty pressure on her heart.

but nothing.

no messages, no calls — nothing.

y/n bit her teeth together, clenching her jaw in regret.

sunghoon had been looking forward to their 1000 day celebration, and she failed him.

a shaky sigh left her throat as her hands fisted in shame.

“hey y/n,” a voice spoke from behind, causing her body to tense.

“oh, hey mark.” she murmured back, mind still flooded with sunghoon.

“you’re still here? i got your files, you’re good to go,” he responded. “by the way, i really appreciate your work here. i hope the ceo considers you here long term.”

y/n sighed in relief as a reply, body taking its final hit of exhaustion from sitting all day.

“you’re a great worker,” mark continued with a polite smile.

a few rewarding compliments remained to run through his mouth, allowing her to get a slight ego boost.

she beamed a smile towards him, truthfully forgetting about how much she had failed sunghoon.

“i hope to see more of this from you soon, y/n. we’re the last here so i gotta lock up.” her superior uttered to her.

the girl nodded her head before gathering her things and leaving for the boy to do as he said.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the drive home from work was quiet.

y/n was worn out from the constant piles of paper work and to be quite frank, all she wanted was some peace and quiet.

the only thing that ran through her mind was how much mark had sweet talked to her about her work skills.

it was promising to hear all of that, and she couldn’t wait to tell it to her boyfriend — her boyfriend who waited hours for her.

but her energy was still wearing thin. every muscle movement she made in the car caused an aching bruise to form.

so when she arrived home, her hands slowly creaked the door open.

a sigh left her throat as she entered in.

everything was quiet and sunghoon couldn’t be found until she glanced to her left. the boy was sitting on the couch in silence, eyes lost in a daze and face blank with no expression presented.

then it hit her.

her blameworthy actions came back to guilt her once she found her person stiffly sitting down.

y/n took a gulp. she was the older one, but she knew how he was during arguments like these. she knew he was one to stay silent just to keep his emotions together.

“hoonie..?” the girl nervously mumbled, almost a whisper to his ears.

sunghoon only stood with a click to the tongue, jaw firmly clenching as he walked to the kitchen.

the atmosphere was quickly filled with tension in how much he ignored her.

“hoon?” she called out once more, only to get a slight glance back as a response.

the boy continued to gulp down some type of beverage, actively letting her presence go unnoticed.

y/n groaned in return, watching his petty efforts become the consequences of her own actions.

but truth be told, she was tired.

she was working all day, back to back with no break whatsoever and all she wanted was to get some sleep.

“sunghoon,” she sighed. “please, i’m sorry. i’m exhausted and work just kept pulling me back. my superior wanted me to file more before my shift ended and i-“

“work this and work that, that’s all we’re gonna talk about isn’t it?” hoon angrily spat, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. the boy ignored the mention of mark with how pissed he was.

✩ ‘fighting with a true love’ ✩

all y/n could do was pause at his outburst.

“i’m sorry, sunghoon, i’m tired and-“

“and i was waiting for you all day to come home for our celebration.” he cut off once more, teeth biting down to mush away the heart aches.

✩ ‘is boxing with no gloves’ ✩

sunghoon finally turned after softly slamming the drink down onto the counter. his darkened eyes met hers, burning holes before quickly tearing up.

“i know..,” she bit her lips, shutting her eyes to avoid her heart breaking at his gaze. “i’m so sorry, sunghoon, i am. i just couldn’t leave, staying after hours just promised me a permanent position. please understand, this is what i’ve been working for.”

hoon scoffed. “are you in a relationship with me or your work?”

she exasperated a sigh before walking to the living room and slumping down on the couch. almost instantly, her body felt the soft, cushioned seats that welcomed her — allowing her to feel drained again.

“please, hoon, i’m tired-“

“that’s how our arguments always end, doesn’t it? you forget a date of ours, then you come home and you say you’re tired, then we’re fine the next day.” the male ridiculed, walking to the living room as well. “when is this gonna stop, y/n?”

“sunghoon..,”

“no, you’re saying you’re tired but i’m the tired one.”

y/n sighed as she sat up, body becoming depleted of energy. “i’m sorry but this internship is worth everything right now, and i’m doing so well with making an impression.”

“worth everything?” sunghoon reiterated with a shaky tone. “even our relationship?”

✩ ‘chemistry till it blows up, till there’s no us’ ✩

“what? no, hoon, that’s not what i meant.”

“is that what our relationship means to you?”

she looked up to his eyes that were inflamed with betrayal. “this job defines my future, sunghoon. this job is what i’ve always wanted, can’t you see that?” a hint of irritation was made present in her voice, showing that her sleep deprivation was irking her to be annoyed.

sunghoon sniffled, quickly wiping away a few tears so his girl wouldn’t feel troublesome. “i see that, y/n, i see it very clearly. i feel like i never see you anymore, in fact. you’re barely here.” his tone was firm, hinting that he was reflecting the energy back.

“this job is for our future too, sunghoon. i’m working to get a good position for financial stability.” y/n uttered, feeling her droopy eyes threaten to close. her mind quickly recalled back to their slight age gap as she felt the weigh of carrying it all on her shoulders.

“our future? you really think there’s gonna be a future with us when i never see you anymore?” the boy murmured, fists clenching with every word that left his mouth.

he hated what he was saying, but it was the truth.

however, her heart still dropped when she processed what he had uttered.

“you don’t think there’s a future with us..?” she took a particularly harsh gulp as tears finally streamed down her cheeks.

“you’re never here, y/n. how can there be a relationship if it’s only one person putting effort?” sunghoon responded, tears taking its fall for him as well.

the two stayed quiet.

no more raised voices and no more hushed words.

they both had reasons to be mad at each other, but they couldn’t see the others point.

y/n didn’t know what to say. her reasonings were being constantly repeated, but it seemed like it wasn’t going through his head — same with him.

“hoonie.., i’m sorry that i’m not there a lot but, i.. i’m just trying really hard to impress my superior and it’s-“

“your superior?” his soft voice squeaked. “mark..?”

the girl raised her head to peer up at him, only to find his thick brows slightly scrunched while his lips were molded into a frown.

“yes,” she sighed. “mark.”

“you stayed late on our 1000 day celebration with mark?” he uttered, voice weakening at the thought.

“yes, but mark’s just my superior. he has to be there when i work late.”

sunghoon scoffed, shaking his head with a low chuckle. no words could be formed with how much jealousy was seeping through him.

“sunghoon.”

he turned his body away from hers as a response, jaw tensing with every envy thought that she unintentionally spent their 1000 day celebration with mark.

“park sunghoon,” y/n firmly called, causing him to look at her. “you can not seriously be jealous right now.”

“jealous that he got to have time with you, and i didn’t? ridiculous.” he let a small puff of air slip by his lips before gazing back at her.

at this point, the girl was completely worn out. she wanted silence, and this argument was bringing her to her limit.

“you really can’t be jealous of mark. i’m your girlfriend, he’s a coworker; and i’m only there late because of how hard i’m working to secure this job, to ensure our financial stability.” she repeated, voice slightly raised as her patience wore thin. her body was begging to rest, and she didn’t know how much longer she could take this quarrel.

sunghoon stayed quiet, considering his choice of words before mumbling, “how much does he make?”

they locked eye contact and y/n instantly saw his teary, red eyes that begged for reassurance.

“what?” she softly asked, word almost incoherent with how much her heart shattered at his gaze.

the tall male shamed his head away, tears painting his cheeks more as he reluctantly croaked — “nothing, never mind.”

“hoon-“

she stood, body barely standing on its own,

but her boyfriend walked away with a murmur — “good night.., gorgeous.”

he still said her favorite nickname even through all of this.

before y/n could say more, sunghoon had already disappeared from her sight — walking into their bedroom without another word.

she sighed whilst sitting back down onto the couch. her boyfriend had just built a barricade around his feelings, shutting himself out to push her away and she wasn’t sure on what to do.

✩ ‘i blew things out of proportion now you’re blue’ ✩

but if he needed space, then she was gonna give it.

✩ ‘why’d i have to break what i love so much?’ ✩

so she settled down onto the couch, situating between the extra pillows and blankets kept in the closet to not disturb him any further.

it wasn’t as snug as her bed with her favorite boy, but it’d do for now.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[ 12:52am ]

y/n was half asleep on the couch now after having dreaded doubts about their argument.

her body faced away from the opening side, giving her no possible way of catching sunghoon if he were to get up for a bathroom run.

she felt cold and stiff without him. nothing would be able to comfort her as much as his embracing warmth could.

the girl softly sniffled, feeling tears well up in her tired eyes while attempting to go to sleep.

as her heart laid heavy with her, sudden feet movements were heard from her opposing side — hinting that her boyfriend had gotten up.

she figured that it was most likely for a quick bathroom break but when she felt his arms suddenly engulf her into his chest, the weighed feeling was relieved of her.

his soft breaths against her neck only acquired the way he couldn’t sleep without her.

“sunghoon?” y/n faintly whispered against him.

“we’re still mad at each other but i just can’t sleep alone tonight,” he hoarsely said back.

a smile curled onto her lips as she turned her body to face him. the boy’s eyes were closed but she could still find traces of tinted red all around.

��� ‘it’s on your face, and i’m to blame’ ✩

“hoonie.”

✩ ‘i need to say’ ✩

slowly, he fluttered his eyes awake with a quiet sniffle in his nose. he raised his brows ever so slightly as a response, shattering her heart in the process.

she leaned in before placing a soothing kiss on the tip of his nose.

“let’s talk,” y/n uttered, lifting her drowsy body up to sit.

sunghoon softly groaned. “it’s late, baby.” he said in a low, attractive voice.

“i know, but i want us to talk this out so we can go to sleep without any worry.”

she pulled her boyfriend up so he could sit up as well.

he exhaled a heavy sigh of his before letting the quiet atmosphere take over for a second.

“you deserve someone who can provide more,” he broke out, causing her gaze on him to immediately soften. “someone who isn’t just a lost twenty-one year old figuring out life, someone like mark.”

sunghoon felt tears spark at the rim of his eyes once his confession was let out. “you shouldn’t be..,” he paused, throat closing at his reality check. “you shouldn’t be with someone like me. i’m still a college student and.., you just deserve better.”

y/n instantly felt her heart drop with his worried doubt. she let the boy stream down tears so he could cry it out and once he did so, she muttered — “hoon, please look at me..,”

but he avoided her stare, just for a second so he wouldn’t break down again. and when he finally looked at her, she embraced him into her arms.

she wrapped herself tightly around him, hinting that she wouldn’t ever leave like he said.

the male hugged back, arms clinging around her waist as he quietly sobbed a little more.

when y/n pulled away, her hands quickly cupped his cheeks — making him look at her with his eyes that were sparkled from the tears.

“you’re doing enough, sunghoon.” she confirmed with a sniffle. “everything you’re doing is enough. i don’t need or will ever want mark, i like working like this because it gives me motivation, and i love you.”

✩ ‘i’m the one who burned us down’ ✩

her last three words were emphasized before she contently sighed and continued — “i’m sorry that i stayed late on our anniversary. i shouldn’t have because i know this day was important to you too. i’m really sorry.”

✩ ‘but it’s not what i meant, i’m sorry that i hurt you’ ✩

the boy pressed his lips together to form a bread smile. “i’m sorry too, you’re a hard worker and that’s what i love about you. i shouldn’t have said those things earlier.”

y/n wore a half smile, shaking her head afterwards to say, “i know my work schedule is difficult with yours but we’ll make it through this okay? we always do because nonetheless, this is my life and i love that you’re in it.”

the girl placed a sweet and reassuring kiss on his cheek as she said, “you’re my boyfriend and i intend to keep it that way until we hit another chapter.”

✩ ‘i don’t wanna lose, i don’t wanna lose this with you’ ✩

sunghoon’s last tears dropped for the night as he pulled her into a crying kiss.

his lips touched hers and he immediately felt relieved. a quiet groan slipped by his lips in the process, allowing y/n to smile into their kiss.

his hands firmly cupped her cheeks while hers were entangled into his messy hair.

his thick brows were deliciously scrunched together in satisfaction before they both pulled away.

“another chapter, hm? want to start that right now?” the boy teased with a grin.

“sunghoon!” she shouted back, allowing her boyfriend to chortle out laughter.

“i’m kidding!” he flashed a wide smile at her before murmuring, “i’m tired anyway.”

y/n playfully rolled her eyes before smacking his arm. “sure.., let’s just go to sleep.”

she dragged sunghoon to their bedroom, slumping her body down immediately after.

the male giggled and laid down on his side, pulling her into his chest like he always did. her hands gently rested on him as he placed chaste kisses on her forehead.

“good night, pretty girl.”

“good night, baby.”

✩ ‘meet me in the afterglow’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[slasherbvnnie]

Bewitched Pt II

Sorry for such a long wait, i've forgotten to post this 4 nights in a row... Enjoy part 2! Please heed the tags

NSFW, P in V, so many pet names, degradation if you squint, overall smut

Bewitched Pt I

“Why the sour face?” Mattheo looked at you, a book in his hands as you were sat next to him pouting, not answering his question.

“What’s got you down, hm?”  he asked you, setting his book to the side. You chose to remain silent, whining as he pulled you in closer to him. He adjusted you, pulling you onto his lap before he began to leave your face covered in kisses. “C’mon, give me some sugar,” he teased.

You giggled at this, looking up to him and rolling your eyes, “am I dating an old man?” You asked jokingly before he smiled, grabbing your chin and giving you a soft kiss.

“mmm…not sweet enough,” he mumbled against your lips, kissing you once more. “Nope, still not sweet enough,” he left one more kiss on your lips before he smiled and hummed. “That’s it, sweet enough.” He grinned, leaning back in the couch to look up at you. “Now c’mon and tell me what’s wrong,” he said as he gently rubbed your side.

“Your score was higher than mine,” you huffed out, whining and crashing down into his chest as he began to laugh.

“That’s whats got you so grumpy?” He chuckled, petting your head as you didn’t respond. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to lie, I think I’ve gotten better than you on every potions exam since you came here,” he said as you huffed.

“But I tried so hard this time! I barely did better than Neville,” you said as you frowned. “That sounded mean, but, I tried really hard,” you reasoned.

“I know, but you did better than your last exam. You’re improving, why are you being so hard on yourself?” He asked you, making you look at him.

You looked away slightly before fidgeting with your hands. “I just- I want good grades. I don’t want them to slip up, I just also want to- to keep up with you. I don’t want people or even you thinking I’m dumb.” You rambled off to him, Mattheo watching you with loving eyes before gently rubbing your sides.

“I don’t think you’re dumb, if anyone does think that then I’ll hex them,” he said, his voice soft but you knew he was serious with every word.

“But if I fail it won’t matter what they think,” you huffed out with a pout, Mattheo kissing it away quickly.

“Why are you fretting over it so badly? You make good grades, you’re not going to fail. You’re my smart girl,” he hummed, a blush growing on your cheeks at his words.

“I’m fretting because now you’re my competition,” you said as you looked up to him. “I mean, you were before too, but now I feel like I have to compete with you.”

“Darling,” Mattheo said gently, caressing your cheek before speaking, “we aren’t in competition. If you want to be, that’s fine. But you do know I still see you as a very smart girl. You’re right behind me in class, you’re higher than me in every other class than potions. You are smart. You don’t have to be perfect,” he said as you whined.

“I do, though,” you reasoned as he chuckled, kissing you again.

“You already are,” he spoke in a whisper now, looking into your eyes as he smiled. “You are perfect. You are smart. You are a wonderful woman and I am lucky to have you as my girlfriend,” he said as he grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it.

“Am I?” You asked, voice cracking slightly, his eyes darting to yours as he frowned.

“Is that what’s going on?” He asked, not expecting an answer. “That’s what this is all about?” He questioned again, softening as he looked up to your teary eyes.

“I just- I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like you’re too good for me, Mattheo. I feel that sometimes I’ll annoy you, or you’ll think I’m too much to deal with and go for another girl who isn’t like me at all. I don’t want to lose you,” you admitted to him, he pulled you close to him, letting go of your hand as he returned to your cheek, rubbing his thumb in circles.

“I care about you, you know that, don’t you? Would you ever leave me if I felt down, if I was sad about something?” he asked as you shook your head. “That’s because you care for me. I care for you, I would never leave you just because you’re feeling down or insecure or any of the above. I like you, all of you, that includes every little bad thought you have.” He said, his eyes never leaving yours. “None of those bad thoughts are true, and I am here to help you prove them wrong. I know that won’t stop them but I do believe I can help ease them,” he whispered to you as you showed a small smile.

“You do,” you whispered back. “I just feel bad that you have to deal with me when I have them. I feel like a burden sometimes” you admitted to him.

“You a burden? You’ve gone mad,” he teased as he kissed your nose. “You would never burden me, I love you,” he said, noticing how your body stiffened.

“Love?” You asked, looking up to him, he was only inches away from you.

“I-I do,” he said, for once his cocky demeanor disappeared and was replaced by a scared look. “I mean, I know it’s quite early but I know what it feels like to-“ you cut him off with a deep kiss, his hands slowly finding their place on the dip of your hips.

After a moment, he pulled away from the kiss, you letting a small pout settle on your lips. “What?” Mattheo asked with a chuckle as you shook your head.

“It’s not sad, more of a ‘that was so cute I’m pouting’ pout,” you said as you smiled and gave him a quick kiss. “I love you too, Matty,” you said, his smile growing as his heart thumped against his chest.

“You’re gorgeous with that smile, you know,” he said as he leaned in for another kiss. He gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his chest as he deepened the kiss. “I can show you how gorgeous you’d be under me too,” he mumbled against your lips, leading the kiss down to your neck. “or on top,” he added in. “Even from behind,” he nipped at your neck, leaving red skin in his wake. “I’ll ease all of those bad thoughts you’re having about yourself,” he promised as he looked up to you.

Your heart leaped at the look in his eyes, skin rising with goosebumps as you could do nothing else but nod. “Words, princess,” Mattheo warned as you keened, breath being taken away as you felt a familiar heat between your legs.

“Please Mattheo,” you begged, lips trembling as you couldn’t look away from his dark lustful gaze. “Please fuck me,” you whined out to him.

The dark haired male nearly went feral with those words leaving your mouth, gently pushing you down and letting you fall back on the bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows, reaching out and placing your hand behind his neck, kissing him as he caged you in with his arms. The two of you made it seem like you needed each other just as much as air, certain you would die if either one of you pulled away in the moment. When there was a pause for air, Mattheo took the opportunity to sink down, hands running down your curves as he left a kiss to your navel, trailing it lower above your clothed body. He hooked his fingers into your skirt, sliding it down before he kissed just above your clothed clit.

A soft whine slipped past your lips, legs spreading for him, his arms hooking around them to bring your hips down closer to him. “Such’a needy girl…” he said with a smirk, “wonder how ruined these could get if I left em on,” he hummed, toying with the sides of your panties.

“Mattheo,” you whined out to him, impatiently waiting for him to touch you. Your grinded your hips down slightly, earning a slap to your inner thigh.

 “Impatient,” he tsked, “thought you were my good girl?” He hummed, you whined out once again.

“Need you to touch me, please Mattheo, please,” you begged him, reaching down and intertwining your fingers with one of his hands. Mattheo watched your fingers interlace, dark eyes looking back up to you as his heart raced. Such an innocent looking girl begging for something so naughty. You were perfect.

“Since you asked so cutely,” he smirked, pulling his hand away from you to begin pulling your panties down. He kissed your calves, slipping them off before nestling back between your legs. He brought one hand up to your mouth, the other holding your hand again. You sucked on his fingers, feeling you grow wetter at the cocky grin settled on his lips. “Good girl,” he praised as he pulled his hand away, settling his wet fingers down on your clit.

You moaned at the feeling, his touch nearly electric as your nerves were frayed from the simple touch. Mattheo’s eyes were now focused on your sex, watching intently at how she reacted to every little touch. He chuckled slightly when you even clenched around nothing as he circled your clit, feeling bad for neglecting that part of your body he darted his tongue out, circling around your entrance as he rubbed your clit. Your lungs were nearly knocked out of air as his tongue entered you, your elbows no longer propping you up, your body surrendering to him completely.

You even swore you were beginning to see stars as he switched his place, his tongue now playing with your clit as his fingers entered you. The stretch elicited another moan from you, toes curling at the pain and pleasure of him pressed against your walls. “Mattheo,” you called out for no particular reason other than to let him know you were enjoying yourself. He smirked against your skin, tongue dancing around your clit before wrapping his lips around it, sucking as your back arched. You dug your hands into his hair, trying to ground yourself to reality and not the astral plane he was surely sending you to. The knot in your stomach slowly beginning to tie itself as he pumped his fingers faster inside of you, pressing against your sweet spot.

Soft pants began to push past your lips, grinding down your hips slightly to try and draw even more pleasure from Mattheo’s ministrations. “Fuck, please,” you practically babbled, lost in your own world as he brought you closer to the edge. You could practically feel the ends of Mattheo’s lips curling into a smirk, proud of himself as he heard how much he was ruining you. He pulled you closer down onto his face with his free arm, pumping his fingers in you with the perfect touch. “Mattheo, Mattheo,” you chanted, chest heaving up and down as you whimpered, back arching as the knot in your stomach came undone.

Mattheo’s movements became more gentle as he helped you ride your high, pulling away as you began to try and shove his away from you as you became overstimulated, unable to form words yet. As your eyes opened and looked to him, you saw the cockiest grin plastered on his lips, both hands resting on your knees as he admired you in all of your beauty. “You’re gorgeous,” he hummed as he moved closer, kissing you deeply, your hands snaking around his neck.

“Don’t tease me please,” you begged him, a chuckle rumbling up from his chest.

“Needy today, aren’t you?” He teased as he grabbed from under your knees, hooking your legs around his hips. “You can ask nicely, can’t you baby?” He asked.

You pouted, pressing your ankle slightly into his hips to bring him closer, looking down and biting down on your lip as he slid between your folds. He looked so pretty sliding between you. “Please fuck me, Mattheo. Need s���bad,” you whined out, hissing as his tip pressed against your clit.

“That all you can do?” He asked, resisting his urge to laugh as he saw your pout.

“If you don’t put it inside I think I’ll die,” you whined out in frustration.

This time he did laugh, smiling to himself as he pressed against your entrance. “Well I don’t want you to die,” he reasoned, pushing in and bottoming out quickly.

You let out a breathy moan, eyes shutting at the feeling of the stretch. He was bigger than just his two fingers, but it felt so much better to have him inside you. You babbled thank yous, slurred together as he began to thrust in and out, allowing you to adjust as he grabbed your wrists, pinning you into the bed.

“Sucha good girl, princess,” he praised, following it up with a groan as you fluttered against him. “You’re gonna kill me one day, you know,” he said with a breathy chuckle. “Gonna kill me with how pretty you are, how pretty you sound,” he rambled, getting pussy drunk with every thrust into you. You could only moan in response, head too fuzzy to find the proper string of words to appreciate the compliments. He didn’t usually talk to much, but you had an inkling it was his way of trying to ease your insecurities from earlier.

“Harder, p-please,” you managed to get out from in between your moans. He let go of your wrists, gripping onto your hips, pulling out almost all the day before slamming his hips back into yours, eliciting a loud moan from you. Your back arched into him, hands scrambling to grab on to any part of him as you tried your best not to come undone right then and there. You saw stars as he pressed against one certain spot, legs twitching to clamp around him so that he wouldn’t move from his position. His mouth hung open as he looked down to you, soaking in all the noises and little twitches in your face as he brought you closer to your second orgasm.

“C’mon princess, you can come again for me, yeah? Just one more sweet girl, know you’re close,” he said, groaning and rolling his head back as you squeezed around him. Your pulsating walls not helping him trying to stay calm and collected as he thrusted in and out of you.

His name left your lips like a prayer, repeating it over and over as he continued to hit that one spot inside of you. You wondered if your heart was going to explode with its pounding, a loud whimper and moan leaving as he finally drew out your orgasm. Your body squirmed in his hold, on another plane of existence as you floated down from your high. Suddenly everything was too sensitive, but felt great in every single way, like a delicious forbidden feeling. “Good girl… so pretty, just a little more, baby,” he moaned out, grunting as he pushed into you, grinding his hips against yours.

His thrusts became a little sloppy as he neared his own release, his hips stuttering as his body shuddered as he came. His head thrown back with his eyes closed as he slowly grinded against you. You swore he looked like an angel.

Once he came down, he pulled out, looking down to you as he leaned down to kiss you. It was deep but innocent this time, wordlessly professing his love once again to you. “You alright?” He asked, getting out from the position you two were in, pulling you against his chest.

“Recovering,” you said with a small giggle as he smirked.

 “You only came twice, you’ve done more,” he said as you laughed. “Mattheo!” You giggled.

“It’s the truth,” he shrugged, leaning closer to kiss you once again. “I love you,” he hummed softly, looking into your eyes with a loving gaze.

“I love you,” you said back, smiling at him. “Thank you,” you said as he rose his eyebrows.

“Why are you thanking me? That wasn’t even me proving to you how beautiful and wonderful you are,” he said with a smile. “That was just so you could feel confident enough to believe me,” he hummed as he pulled you closer.

“You spoil me,” you said with a blush as he grinned.

“You deserve to be spoiled.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Visit II

Fridolina Rolfö x Child!Reader

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You go to a Barcelona match

With Momma and Morsa in Madrid and you in Barcelona, Frido takes you to one of her games. Or, her team’s game because she’s got a little injury that keeps her off the squad for the week so she sits up in the box with you.

It’s not your first time at one of moster Frido’s games but it’s your first time at a Barcelona game. You like the jersey, you decide. It’s blue which is a Not-Wolfsburg colour but it’s also got red and that’s an Arsenal colour. The badge is cool too and you decide that Arsenal can be your English team and Barcelona can be your Spanish team like how Wolfsburg is your German team and Linköping is your Swedish team because that’s where Momma and Morsa first met.

Moster Frido isn’t playing today so you wear an Ingrid jersey instead. She’s starting today and, strangely, so is Mapi. That confuses you a little but you figure with Frido injured that Barcelona don’t have enough defenders to go around.

“It’s nice that Ingrid lets Mapi play with her,” You say as the whistle blows for the first half to begin,” Ingrid’s a good girlfriend.”

Frido laughs. “Don’t ever change, little monster,” She says. You don’t understand what’s funny but you assume it’s an adult thing that you’re still too little to know about.

Barcelona, you think, are much better than Arsenal. Not that Arsenal isn’t good but Barcelona is a lot more organised. They always know where each other are and they’re playing this first half like they actually know how to play football rather than having to settle into it like Arsenal do.

You cheer when Mapi passes the ball off to Ingrid, who weaves through the other team and passes it off to someone else. You don’t really remember much about the Barcelona team from the final against Not-Wolfsburg, not really. You don’t really know the players well but you know you’ll learn.

You’re good at learning. Morsa says it’s a good skill to have.

The person in goal is called Paños and you mark that in your brain because she’s very good. You prefer Zećira obviously but you think v is really good too and you want to watch a few more matches with her.

Barcelona scores while you think about it, some girl with Guijarro on her back.

The crowd goes wild, as does another little girl in the box. She’s wearing a Guijarro jersey like how you’re wearing an Engen one. She goes absolutely crazy. She waves a little flag and jumps up and down in joy.

“That’s little Nat,” Moster Frido says in her ear,” She’s Patri’s cousin.”

“Who’s Patri?”

Frido laughs. “The girl who just scored.”

Little Nat, as moster Frido calls her, keeps cheering and jumping around. You smile at that. That’s how you react when Momma scores.

“Do you want to go say hi?” Frido asks you and you think about it for a moment.

You could go say hi but you just move a bit closer to Frido, suddenly feeling shy. “I don’t speak Spanish,” You whisper to her.

“That’s okay,” She says,” Little Nat speaks some English too. She’s very nice.”

You think about it again but the shy feeling doesn’t go away. “Maybe later.”

“Okay,” Frido says,” Later then.”

You settle more firmly at her side, though your eyes track Little Nat all the way back to her seat. You think, if you were a little braver and you spoke Spanish, you would talk to her. But you’re shy and you don’t speak Spanish so you don’t.

You focus back on the match and watch as Mapi makes a very good save for someone that doesn’t play football. It’s nice that she’s come out to support Ingrid and is on the pitch even though her job is to get tattoos and be a good girlfriend.

Every time you tell Frido that, she laughs and cuddles you nice and close in amusement.

The match ends with a very impressive score line for Barcelona and you cheer like everyone else when it’s over.

Frido takes you down onto the pitch.

Little Nat from earlier is there too, with her parents – though she abandons them to sprint to her cousin who scored the goal earlier.

You end up with Mapi and Ingrid. “Hi, Ingrid! Hi, Mapi!” You chirp, giving them both big hugs.

“Is that my jersey?” Ingrid teases and you nod.

“Uh-huh! It’s so cool! I like Barcelona.”

“That’s great!” Ingrid high fives you and you giggle.

You turn to Mapi. “It’s nice that Ingrid let you play with her. Say thank you, Mapi.”

“Ingrid didn’t let me play with her!” Mapi says,” This is my job! I play football!”

You give her a weird look. “Playing in the park isn’t the same as playing on the pitch,” You tell her,” But you’re a very good girlfriend for helping Ingrid on the pitch today. If you keep practicing really hard then maybe you can join a proper team one day too.”

“Guys!” Mapi complains,” Come on, help me out here! Tell her I’m a footballer!”

Ingrid and Frido are too busy laughing at Mapi’s outrage to help her out.

You’re insistent on your view that Mapi exists to get tattoos and be Ingrid’s girlfriend. There’s no way she’s a footballer and you refuse to accept any other alternative except maybe that her job is feeding the stray cats in the neighbourhood. That could be her job too.

Her cat, Bagheera, is very sweet. You think you might want a cat when you’re older though you think you also want a puppy too. You don’t know if they can live in the same house but you hope so because you like both cats and dogs.

You know Morsa doesn’t want any pets right now but you do so you’ll try to convince her to let you have a pet when you go back to London. That gives you enough time to think of a plan to convince her.

“Hey,” Mapi says,” Did you go and talk to Little Nat during the match? I think you’d really get on with her.”

You shake your head. You spare a glance over your shoulder at her. She’s on her feet now, her cousin having put her down but still keeps holding her hand. She’s staring back at you with a smile and waves.

You wave back to be polite but still feel a little shy and duck to hide behind Frido’s legs.

“Someone's a little shy,” Frido says to Mapi, looking down at you,” But that’s okay. I’m sure they can make friends another time.”

(You never get to make friends with Little Nat as a child but, one day, you make a girlfriend and then a wife of Talia).

“Next time then,” Mapi says,” I’m serious. I think you and Little Nat will be great friends one day.”

You peak out from Frido’s legs.

Little Nat is still looking at you. She waves again and you wave back before you spot someone off to the side.

You gasp and grab Frido’s hand, pulling her with you.

“It’s Caro!”

Caro is standing by the water cooler, drinking from a bottle but she turns at the sound of her name. She spots Frido, who indicates downwards to where you’re dragging her over.

Caro lets a small smile appear on her face and she drops into a crouch right as you barrel into her arms. There’s something about you being older now that puts Caro at ease. She remembers when you were just a tiny baby and how scared she was to drop you.

It’s harder to drop you now and Caro’s much more comfortable. Her arms wrap around your little body and you hug her back so tightly that she’s a little shocked at how much strength is in your tiny body.

“Hi, Caro!” You say, panting from how quickly you go to her side.

“Hello, y/n.”

“You played so good!” You tell her,” Just like at Wolfsburg! You score so much! You’re so cool, Caro!” You chatter on and on about Caro’s two earlier goals.

Caro nods along to you and Frido only pulls you away when you start yawning, completely shattered by your long day in the sun.

“Alright, little monster,” She says,” Say goodbye to Caro then we’ll say bye to Ingrid and Mapi. We need to head home.”

You whine but do as you’re told, giving a hug to Caro before running off to do the same with Ingrid and Mapi.

You’re practically asleep by the time Frido straps you into your car seat. You keep yawning and your head lulls to the side. It’s adorable and Frido snaps a quick picture, sending it off to Pernille and Magda, who she knows are eagerly awaiting an update from her after the game.

[hoonieyun]

score: love!

lee heeseung x reader "y/n"

summary: after 2 years off the court due to a torn acl, y/n is ready to step back into tennis and take back the years she’s lost to her injury. after vowing to never play mixed doubles tennis ever again, she’s disappointed to find that the only matchup left is mixed doubles and she doesn’t have a partner. luckily, due to a last minute dropout, the tournament director has a player in need of a mixed doubles partner, but it just so happens to be the guy y/n played against 2 years ago that caused her injury: lee heeseung.

genre: smau!! sports au-tennis, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, romance

characters: enhypen heeseung, jay, jake, sunghoon - artms jinsoul - yves/sooyoung - loossemble hyeju (and randome side characters)

warnings: profanity, injuries, aggressive behavior, suggestive, drugs and alcohol, overall 18+

status: on going *started 11-3-2024*

reply or send message to inbox to be added to taglist!

teaser (prologue) profiles: baddiesss (and jake) pink pony tennis club

i. girl you're late!

ii. shouldn't he be in jail??

iii. only in it for the money babyyy

iv. the bow is necessary

v. you think he's ever used his brain..?

more to come...

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved. all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[moamidzyism]

one for the road (h.kk + k.th)

ʚ♡⃛ɞ another tale of boy likes girl... but so does his best friend.

fluff + angst ౨ৎ ୨୧ huening kai x fem!reader x kang taehyun, rockstar!au, college!au, suggestive featuring all members of txt, all of itzy, wonbin from riize, yunjin from le sserafim, ningning from aespa, and huening lea started. sep 1 ended. status. ongoing posting schedule. sundays, tuesdays, thursdays, saturdays [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]

event masterlist

profiles: protagonists and friends

i. opening sequence ii. it could be fun iii. the battle begins iv. 365 party girl v. lea's fan club and others vi. party animals (written; 749 words) vii. slut acknowledging viii. score! ix. twice as hard x. ayahuasca in bali xi. sucks to suck! xii. the plot thickens (written; 781 words) xiii. round of eight xiv. relationships r hard xv. the most wonderful time of the year xvi. project partners (written; 1122 words) xvii. which could mean anything xviii. busy busy bees xix. xx.

comment or send an ask to join the taglist for this series! fill out this form to join my permanent taglist! author's note: if you saw the first iteration of this series, no you didn't! this is part of my college au series~ also disclaimer: all depictions of any idols in this are fictional, for story telling purposes only. every idol included in this i love and i do not feel negatively about them !

[softfem-dom]

heyyy Ii love you and your writting and I was wondering if you could write something? it's kinda a different rq from what I saw you writing but would you be willing to write sepparate headcanons/a short blurb for different Logans? (esp the xmen 97', origins, worst wolverine, patch if u write for him and the dofp logan)

if youre comfortable with this rq style, could you write something for the different moment they/someone realized they were a girl dad™ with a platonic!teen!yn? if not that's okay dw <33

different wolverines, same cub different!logans x fem!teen!reader

a/n : okay this is diferent from the requests I usually get but it's a very welcome change in format! pd: i love you too anon <33

wc : aprox 500 words for drabble.

FLUFF , GIRLDAD!LOGAN(S) , TEEN!READER , MUTANT!READER , TW FOR PAST ABUSE MENTION IN ORIGINS LOGAN.

xmen97'!logan . origins!logan . dofp!logan . patch!logan . worst!logan

XMEN97'!LOGAN HOWLETT

Ever since Proffesor Charles' death things were a bit tense in the team. Scott, even as hard as he tried, wasn't all that ready to be a leader and with a baby in the way and Logan acting like a jerk to him anytime the opportunite arose, things weren't getting that better.

However, strangely, today the team wasn't that much of a team. It was more like the family you all were. And the way you were playing on the basket court was something to see. With two of the men without shirt, Jean as a ref, and Jubilee and you bursting with energy things were about to take an interesting turn. Especially when Gambit and Logan were placed into opposite teams.

You spent the majority of the time in the sidelines, talking about the latest gossip with Jubilee, while you cheered for Gambito —who seemed to be eating it all up. But then the orange ball bounced your way, and you grabbed it before thinking of the consequences. So now you were running for your life, trying to evade the opposite team's players —which was a difficult task given how good Beast seemed to be at this.

And just when you were about to reach the basket and score, you bumped into a solid wall of muscle. You groaned under your breath, already knowing who you had just bumped into, before you were suddenly being lifted into the air. The ball fell to the ground for Morph to grab.

"an' what do we have 'ere, hmn?" Logan laughed, his voice gruff and deep as he looked at you with a smug ass smirk on his lips. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes playfully and making you scoff, before deciding to throw you up into the air and catch you.

"LOGAN!"

"what? too much action for ya, princess?"

Jean could only watch from the sidelines, a hand resting over her round belly. Rogue caught onto that, her eyes having been trained on your laughing form as Logan kept throwing you into the air and catching you —like a father with his baby. "seems like Scott ain't the only father around, huh, sugah?"

Jean chuckled softly, a fond glint on her eyes as she stared at the scene playing before her. "it does seems like it, it does" she sighed with a smile on her face.

___

ORIGINS!LOGAN HOWLETT

Since the moment James entered his homely cabin, finding it oddly silent, and walked right onto his girlfriend —Kayla— trying to convince a blood and dirt covered teenage girl into eating he knew he was in for a wild ride. His girlfriend had always been alright with the fact a mutant was living with her, and now it seemed like that number had leveled up to two.

They still hadn't been able to get much out of you, just the fact that you were an experimented mutant that had escaped and was probably being searched for. Still, his sweetheart of a partner didn't seem to mind the risk —just like she didn't mind his adamantium claws.

He was sitting on the couch, the fireplace lit up and casting a gentle warm glow over his face. However, his hazel eyes weren't looking at the hypnotizing flames, but at you. You were way more healthier than when Kayla had found you lost and scared out in the woods near the cabin, less sickly-looking. You were simply minding your bussiness, seated on the floor —on the warm and fluffy carpet— as you read one of the books that Kayla had kept from her early teenagehood.

"what're you reading, kid?" his voice was calm, soft, and with a bit of the usual rumbly tone it held. You looked up from the pages to the man sitting on the couch. "the princess bride" you spoke quietly.

You didn't speak all that much, short sentences and direct meaning behind them. But Logan still found himself humming along to your simple answer. "that one's good,"

"yeah"

"you met iñigo yet, bub?"

"uh-huh"

He found himself sporting a small smile at your responses, you weren't a troublesome kid you just had trouble opening up. But it was fine, he had all the time in the world to coax you out.

"you know what Kay' used ta' say 'bout him?" he asked you, his voice soft. Hoping to keep the conversation going for a while.

Your curious tilt of the head and the way you lowered the book slightly —subcounsciously— was enough answer.

"she used ta' say I was like tha man" he hummed, looking at you with a smile. His girlfriend did use to say that he reminded her of the spanish henchman.

A beat of silence. A wrinkle in your brow and your nose scrunched up. "you're way better" was your quiet response before you went back to reading.

He would never deny the way those words made the rest of his day, and his week, and his month. He didn't even know it yet, but when the day came that all of him but blurred parts was lost, he'd still remember a girl telling him he was way better than the swordman.

___

DOFP!LOGAN HOWLETT

Yes, he had traveled back in time to save the future from the centinels. And yes, he was on it. But while Charles and Hank tried their best to track Magneto to get him to collaborate, he decided it would harm no one to have a bit of fun with this version of you.

He knew you in the future, and you were the dictionary description of a real woman. You knew your abilities, had self-confidence, and had that damn smile that could challenge the sun. But, right now, in the past, you were nothing but a feisty 15 year old that he was having the time of his life bothering.

He walked through the empty halls of the lived-in School with that confidence and 'no-one-can-sweep-me-off-my-feet' attitude he carried everywhere, his tinted aviator glasses resting idly on the bridge of his nose. He was in search of you, and he knew exactly where to find you.

He opened the door to your room with his usual carelessness, not even bothering to knock just for the sake of annoying you, and laughing —loudly— at the way you almost jumped out of your skin.

"Logan! fucking god-!" you screeched from your place on your bed, hand grabbing at your chest. "you almost gave me a fuckin' heart attack, you asshole!"

"yeah, yeah, whatever you say, bub" he laughed, shaking his head in amusement. Before his eyes fell on the pink —glittery— notebook open wide infront of your crossed legs. "ohhh, and what is that?"

He smirked at the way you scrambled to close the thing, pink gel pen falling to the covers without a sound, as you clutched the notebook to your chest. The words written on the cover exposed you. A diary.

"nothing!"

"is that a fuckin' diary, bub?" he snorted, walking over to the bed with an amused smirk on your face.

"no it is not!"

"yes it is"

"no"

"yes"

"nah"

"yeah"

"nuh-huh" you shook your head. "yeah-uh" he replied, noding his head with a smirk on his face.

You two stood in a silent stare competition for a few seconds, but he had reflexes way better than yours and much more strenght aswell. And he ended up snatching the pink notebook from your gasp. "HEY!"

You were quick to scramble up to stand over your bed, trying to pry the glittery item from his hands as he kept dodging your hands with mocking ease while he opened it on the last page. The page you had been writting about him. When you saw his eyes start to read the words written in girly pink you sighed, a red hue creeping onto your face and growing more and more intense with each second that passed before he looked up at you again. His smirk had turned even more cocky and smug if that was even possible.

You groaned loudly before dropping back onto the bed, pulling a pillow over your face. "you think that 'bout me, bub?" you groaned in embarassment as an answer, getting a deep chuckle in return. "yeah, well, I appreciate you too, ya little feisty thing"

Your embarassment eased up a little, knowing athat at least he was not going to ridiculize you over the way you had written about him and the way you wanted to be like him when you were older —the way you held him over a gold pedestal. AS a role model.

"but, let me tell ya a thing real quick" he added. You heard the sound of him closing the diary and placing it safely on your desk. Then the bed dipped slightly. "when ya grow old, don't be like good ol' me, be like you. That's how I met ya in the future, remember?"

Just when you were about to pull the pillow off your face, and thank him, he went back to his jerk behaviour and decided to playfully suffocate you for one or two seconds. "I'm still gonna make fun of ya, though" he added. You could hear the smirk on his lips as you groaned a loud "fuck".

___

PATCH!LOGAN HOWLETT

You had gotten admited to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters when you were a kid, finding a family closer than the one bound by blood. If someone, anyone, had told you that you'd be going on missions with the X-Men when you grew a pair you wouldn't have believed them.

But right now, you realized that maybe you did aspire to be someone in the hero world. Especially when it's the Wolverine —the X-Men— the one taking you with him on his side quests.

It wasn't beacuse you had some kind of insane, min-blowing mutation that made you invincible, nah, not really. The thing was that your mutation allowed you to locate mutants and perceive their powers and level, and that did damn come in handy when it came to tracking down the targets of his missions.

And that's how you had endedp up staying in a hotel room with Logan in Madripoor. The city of crime and casinos.

You were currently all dolled up, pretty as ever by his side, with a fancy white dress with black buttons that matched his white shirt and his black eyepatch. 'Patch' is how they knew him here, one eye hidden beneath black cloth and his characteristic cowlicks slicked back. He was hidding his identity quite well.

You two were at one of the fancy casinos on the highlife streets, 'lady luck' they called it, and Logan was hoping he had enough of said luck to catch the target that frequented the place before midnight —you had a damn bedtime he was always going to stick to.

Seated at a poker table with some greedy men surrounding him, Logan had you seated prettyly on one of his legs. Holding his deck of cards with one hand while the other was firmly planted on your hip, so no dirty rich man got any 'brilliant' ideas.

Your young eyes were moving from place to place, admiring the fancy decorations in rich reds and golds. Looking at the pictures of famous people that had visited the place hanging from the walls, the gorgeous chandeliers and oogling the pretty dresses the women there wore. Logan thought it was cute how shy you got when one of those women caught your gaze and smiled your way, waving sweetly, but what wasn't cute was the way you were getting distracted. And not because of the mission at hand, but because he saw the lascivous glances sent your way —those perverted men made a low growl start to rumble in his chest.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart. Can't have you gettin' distracted here" he explained in a low tone, not even taking his eyes off of his deck —intending on at least winning the game if the target didn't show up in the end—.

"that's some serious arm candy you've got there, Patch" one of the men in the table spoke up, pushing a few more red coins on the table to to add up to his bet.

Logan growled, his hand suddenly tightening up on his hip, squeezing you to his side. "with all respect, I'm not a sex toy, mister" you huffed, frowning in disgust at the man.

Said man quirked an eyebrow at your 'attitude' before looking back at Logan, as if epecting him to scold or chastise you for speaking up. Still, he was only met by a grumble of Logan and a shoulder shrug.

"you heard the girl, she ain't no sex toy" he hummed, adding another few gambling coins to the pile in the middle of the table. "so stop tryin' to fuck her with yer eyes or I'm leaving you without 'em"

The man fell silent after that, probably a bit intimidated, while you just sat there kepon his leg and kept your eyes on his deck. You knew that if you were obedient and let him concentrate on winning this game he'd let you order as many sweets as you wanted from the hotel service. And you were really looking forward to those chocolate cookies.

___

WORST!LOGAN HOWLETT

You thought that the worst scent of all was the scent of blood. A sickeningly cloying and metallic smell that whafted into your nostrils and forced your mouth to taste of iron, so strong it was dizzying more often than not. But, lately, you've started to repulse the scent of whiskey much more.

You hated the way that alcoholic brevage clung to him. To every cell of his very being. To his breath, his skin, his clothes, everything smelled like whiskey. It wasn't a particularly unpleasant smell, but just like blood it was the thought of what came behind it, was it corpses and death or drunkeness and slurred speeches.

You both had managed to crash in an old appartment that used to belong to Cyclops before, well, his death. Except you weren't allowed to call it that, as long as you were in Logan's presence you had to talk about it —think about it— as 'the accident'. Who could've guessed he'd end up drunk out of his mind on Jean and Scott's old queen-sized bed.

He doesn't know how long he's been laying on that bed, drunk off his ass, he just knows he's sober and awake now —and without a hangover thanks to his metal bones. It's half past 4 in the morning, and he just sits there for a moment as he tries to make out what has woken him up. He waits for a few seconds before he hears the creacking of the wooden floor of the appartment coming from the kichen.

You. He doesn't know why he jolts out of bed, almost loosing his balance and falling face-first to the floor. You two are in an appartment in the city centre, you two are safe, but just the thought of you awake at half past four in the morning has something in him stirring and clawing at his insides.

"bub?" his voice is rougher than usual due to sleep, raw with the disorientaame with waking up so abruptly. "bub, s'that you?"

He blindly reachs for the doorknob to the small kitchen, pulling the door open to reveal you there. In the middle of the kitchen. Still in your pyjamas and looking as sleepy as he did and with a mug in your hands. He looks to the side slightly, spotting the bottle of milk on the counter and the opened door of the microwave. Oh, so that was what had woekn him up, the beeping of the stupid microwave.

You stood there, like a deer in highlights, with your mug of warm milk in your hands. You weren't about to admit to him that you were still childish enough to believe a warm glass of milk would send you to bed after a nightmare.

"what-?" he started, rubbing a hand over his face. "what're you doing? it's fucking 4:30 a.m, bub" he groaned tiredly—pretty much using the doorknob as support for his sleepy body.

"I-" you breathed out, voice groggy with interrumpted sleep. "-wanted a glass of milk" you mumbled, cringing at how childish you sounded.

His gaze seemed to both soften up and clear up at your words, and he found himself walking past the fog of sleep that his worn out brain was still trapped in, to join your side and close the microwave's door gently.

"nightmare?"

"yeah.."

"you want a hug or something?" he suggested, not really knowing what to do.

"yeah.."

And with that, one big arm was drapped over your shoulders —a bit awkwardly but still— while you sipped on your warm milk. His free hand reaching up for the liquor cabinet, yet stopping when he caught the way you looked at him. He sighed at that, redirecting his hand's trayectory to the cabinet next to where the alcohol was kept, and grabbing a bag of instant coffee.

Yes, you hated the smell of blood. And yes, you hated the smell of whiskey even more. But you could get used to the smell of cold winter nights shared over a glass of warm milk and a cup of coffee.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Capitol Punishment Prologue (II)

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 4.2K

Prologue | Masterlist | Part I

As you and your mentor entered a room with the tube that would put you into the arena, your fear finally came to the forefront of your mind. Your breath became erratic as you confronted your almost guaranteed imminent death. Haymitch noticed your sudden stiffness, forcing you to look at him. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re smarter than any of them. You only have to do this once. Okay?”

Seeing his sincerity and hope, your facade broke. “I don’t wanna die,” you finally admitted, tears pricking your eyes.

That broke his heart. You had spent so long convincing yourself and everyone else you were okay with dying. As upset as he had been because you were so willing to leave him, he admired your composure. But now there was a scared girl in your place. Haymitch knew you couldn’t win. You had only scored a 3 in your training. No one would bet on that. And while you had managed to survive alone in 12 for eight years, maybe you had been right. Maybe you were only able to survive in the Seam where people were indifferent and sometimes even kind. Here, your death would only benefit others.

Pushing all those thoughts aside for your sake, Haymitch gained the slightest smile. “There she is,” he murmured. “I know you can do it. You’ve actually struggled to survive on your own. The others probably can’t say the same. C’mere,” he said, pulling you into a hug. You reveled in the first comforting touch in god knows how long. His chin rested on top of your head. “You’re gonna run away from the cornucopia and then steal supplies. No fighting, okay? You’re gonna fly under the radar. That’s how you survived in 12, right?”

“Thirty seconds,” an automated voice came over the speaker, telling you that you had to get in the tube.

Haymitch finally pulled away. “I’ll see you soon,” he tried his hardest to smile, wiping away your tears. You returned his strained smile before unsteadily making your way to the tube.

Haymitch kept his facade up until you were out of view, having been lifted into the arena. He almost immediately pulled out his flask, taking a deep swig.

~

Being pushed up into the arena you were blinded by the sun and immediately confronted with a nearly unbearable heat. Gathering your bearings, you observed the arena. It looked like some sort of canyon. From what you could see, it wasn’t very wide in some spots. The largely empty field surrounding the cornucopia looked to stretch about a mile behind you before you could spot some trees. It’d be a long time before you could get cover, you just hoped that the others would be too distracted fighting each other to notice you running for a mile.

Turning your attention back to the cornucopia you spotted all sorts of weapons and supplies. Based on the heat you were tempted to try to grab some water but you kept Haymitch’s words in mind. Not to mention that if you went towards the cornucopia you lost valuable time to get to cover.

15… the timer read. 10… 5… 3, 2, 1! The buzzer went and you immediately turned, running for the trees.

You ran for god knows how long. You weren’t sure if anyone was following you but you were too afraid to look back. Afraid of turning around to see your fellow children slaughtering one another. Afraid of seeing someone chasing you, and even worse, slowing down enough, incidentally, so they could catch you. So you kept going until you finally reached the trees and even further after that. You finally let yourself slow to a stop in order to catch your breath.

Completely alone and without any supplies, you knew you needed to find someone soon so you wouldn’t die of exposure or be completely defenseless. But upon hearing a twig snap, you came to the conclusion that you weren’t in the position to run anyone yet so you continued running.

~

You eventually moved to the edge of the forest, figuring that if any singular tribute had set up camp in the open you’d be able to spot them easier. You had spent the better part of the afternoon learning to climb trees. While you lacked the muscle to actually climb, you made up for it with a malnourished frame that allowed you to climb up tree limbs that would snap under a career’s weight. You eventually figured it out, fortunately in time to see a fire spark up about a hundred yards from you.

But as you were watching the fire the Capitol music began to play, blue light flooding the sky. Looking up, you could see the fallen being projected onto the night sky. You counted as they went. The District 3 girl, District 4 girl, District 6 boy, both tributes from District 8 and 11, and finally Alder. Eight in total. Fairly low bloodbath, you had seen as many as 3/4 of the tributes get wiped out in the first 10 minutes before.

You weren’t sure how to feel about Alder. Yeah, he had been a dick but he was still a person. A person you knew. Who had a life and a family. You were sure those who knew him were wishing it had been you instead of him. Hell, you were only alive because Haymitch had only mentored you. And he had told you to run away. You were also relieved you wouldn’t have to kill him. Trying to shake off the knowledge of your district-mate’s demise, you turned your attention back to the fire.

Whoever had started a fire in the middle of a field wasn’t completely stupid. They were surrounded by a few boulders and rocks, judging by the weakness of the fire you wouldn’t have spotted it if you weren’t up in the trees.

You waited for a while until the fire was out, signaling that the tribute was asleep. So you crept from the trees, praying that this poor child you were about to kill had supplies so it’s be worth it. You couldn’t really afford to let your humanity get in the way if you were going to have any shot at getting home.

~

Haymitch watched the games from the penthouse. This had been the first year in a while he had actually sat down to watch the games. He never bothered to watch the hopeful kids he was forced to meet get slaughtered. But he watched this year, proud of you for running away and figuring out how to climb.

The cameras had only been focused on the careers ever since night fell. He supposed everyone was alone because when no fighting was going on, they only played the footage of ally interactions. The careers had formed a group. All of them except for the District 4 girl who had been killed with a spear to the chest while fighting over it with the boy from 7 during the bloodbath.

The careers had set up camp, the boy from 1 already establishing himself as their leader, having killed the boys from Districts 6 and 11, and then both tributes from 8.

But the coverage of their little bonding session was interrupted by cameras focused on the sleeping girl from 5 and you, creeping across the field.

“What do we have here?” Caesar asked the audience and Lucius Caecilius, this year’s other announcer, rhetorically.

“It looks like the District 12 girl, Y/N L/N, is on the move. The question is, if Necole Carrick wakes up, who will win in a fight?”

“My money is on Carrick. She has supplies, L/N is completely defenseless,” Caesar explained.

“Let’s see,” Caecilius said as you finally reached the girl from 5.

Haymitch watched in anticipation as you perched yourself on a rock, just above the sleeping girl. He held his breath, could you actually do this? His heart stopped as you carefully reached down, slipping the knife out of the girl’s hand. He watched you sigh in relief as you grabbed it. The camera was focused on your face as you seemed to steel yourself before softly leaping onto the ground next to her before quickly swiping the blade through the girl’s carotid artery. You jumped as the canon went off, showing the audience how shaky you were. Tears were pouring down your face as you grabbed the backpack and any other supplies before running out of the field, safely into the trees.

~

By the time the sun came back up, the tears on your face had dried and there was a puddle of vomit at the base of the tree. You had found some dried meat in the pack so you had nibbled a little on that, careful not to waste your rations. But eating had helped you stop shaking enough to climb down the tree. Unfortunately, the pack hadn’t contained any water, but it did have an empty water bottle so you set off to find water.

You had stuck to the walls of the canyons, figuring that if you had to climb them, you could. There wasn’t much room to grip them but it was possible. Fortunately, the trees still provided enough shade for your pursuit of water to not be dire.

As you continued on you became less confident until you noticed something. You couldn’t be sure but you were pretty sure you had reached a point where the walls of the canyon were curving into you. But as you continued on, you found an opening in the wall. It was mostly covered by vegetation and would go unnoticed had you not been following this wall for hours. Seeing as there were few reasons for you not to go in, you went, finding that it sloped down into the ground. Continuing on, it became lighter. Streams of light came from thinly covered holes in the ceiling, up into what you realized was the main arena. It was a miracle you hadn’t fallen down here.

As you were realizing this may be a good place to hide, you could hear it. Running water. You practically cried in relief, moving closer to it. As you reached a small stream, you immediately kneeled to the ground, scooping the water into your hands. You had learned that running water was less likely to contain dangerous pathogens or bacteria but you should still boil it. Regardless, you didn’t care. You finally had water.

After cleaning yourself off a little and filling your water bottle you continued on, following the stream. But as you went, you heard footsteps above you. Making sure to stay out of view from the streams of lights, you waited for the footsteps to be gone. But they never went away, instead, the boy from District 10, the boy who had ogled at you in the elevator, fell into the cavern. You didn’t waste a second jumping on top of him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as disoriented as you thought he would’ve been because he tossed you off effortlessly.

The next thing you knew he was on top of you, his fists wildly hitting you. Getting your feet under him, you were able to kick him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. Distracting him enough that you could kick him off of you. You fumbled for the knife in your pack as you noticed him crawling towards his fallen sword. Seeing him, you disregarded the knife in your bag, going towards the sword. You managed to reach it before him but just before he could grab the handle, you had to grab the blade. You nicked your hand but were too high on adrenaline to notice. You slipped it from his grasp before grabbing the handle, swinging it down into his head before running off.

You could hear his screams of agony as you ran back to the entrance, afraid his screams would draw other tributes. You certainly didn’t want to be trapped down here with the careers, being trapped in a canyon with them was bad enough. But by the time you reached the surface, a canon went off. Unless another tribute had been killed, at least District 10’s suffering had ended.

You no longer felt safe on the ground, you couldn’t just stay in one tree, and you certainly wouldn’t be able to just jump from tree to tree so you began to look to the canyons. There were ledges higher up you could theoretically walk across, it would just be a struggle to reach them. So you prepared yourself, subjecting yourself to bleeding fingers until you finally reached a ledge you could actually stand on. It was about 10 feet off the ground and went decently far. So you walked back towards the Cornucopia, occasionally climbing down and up as ledges got too thin and you had to go to another one.

You continued on like this for a while until you spotted the blonde hair of District 4’s male tribute. He was alone, unusual for a career tribute. You made sure he was alone before silently making your way down the canyon. He didn’t notice you as you followed him for a bit. Eventually, he stopped, turning to the canyon wall before unzipping his pants. You hesitated for a second, not wanting to be put in that position but this was your best opportunity so you took it.

As he finished, you crept up behind him, quickly wrapping your arm around his head, pulling it back so you could easily draw your knife across his throat. He tried to scream, but you cut so deep he couldn’t. This time you watched, blood pouring from his throat as the life left his eyes. Once the canon went off, you knew you wouldn’t have much time so you quickly took the belt lined with blades before running off, not wanting to risk the other careers seeing you as you tried to climb.

Reaching another remote area, you slung the blades around your hips before climbing up into a tree for the night. You hadn’t slept in nearly two days so you knew you’d have to figure something out tonight.

As you were settling down you heard chimes from above. Looking up at the sky you found a silver parachute floating down towards you. It got caught in the leaves of the branch you were on, forcing you to precariously balance on the end to reach it. How ironic it would be if you died in the Capitol’s game while reaching the thing the Capitol gifted you to survive.

You managed to grab it, settling back where you had been before opening it. First, you saw a note.

Good job, sweetheart - Haymitch

You couldn’t help but be embarrassed of the heat building in your cheeks but you tried to ignore it. Opening up the container you found some sort of salve. Unsure of what it was you reached a finger into it, immediately noticing a soothing sensation on your torn up finger. You looked at it, noticing the blood was stopping so you quickly spread it over your marred hands and any other random scrapes you had gained from all the climbing practice.

You sighed at the soothing relief, resting against the grunt of the tree.

~

“Well, it’s been an unusually bloody second day, this looks like this may be the quickest Hunger Games in a while,” Caesar recapped for the audience.

“Yes, it has,” Caecilius agreed. “For those of you unable to tune in today the allies from Districts 1, 2, and 4 decided to split up today. Unusual behavior for this alliance as usually the members of this group, known as the careers, stick together until they start fighting one another. But they had a fairly successful day. Collectively they eliminated the male tributes from Districts 3 and 5, the girls from 6, 7, and 10, as well as both tributes from 9.”

“And in a surprise, Y/N L/N has eliminated the males from Districts 4 and 10. I’d like to remind everyone that she scored a 3 in her training evaluation,” Caesar reminded, looking genuinely surprised at her success.

“Clever one, she is. She kept the careers’ focus away from her. Only a matter of time before the remaining careers figure out she’s the one who killed their ally.”

“They seem to be figuring it out right now,” Caesar laughed as the cameras focused on the remaining careers.

Today's deaths were being projected into the sky and they had noticed their ally’s death. They were currently trying to track the canon fire today to figure out who could have done it. Trying to determine whether or not the killer had already been eliminated. But as they discussed they failed to mention the possibility of District 12’s female tribute.

“Oh, seems they’re forgetting someone,” Caesar laughed.

“Can you blame them?” Caecilius laughed along with Caesar. “I don’t believe a female tribute from 12 has made it past the first day since the 50th games when Haymitch Abernathy won.” Caesar murmured in agreement before he changed everyone’s attention to recounting today’s deaths, playing them on the screen.

“I’ll just say, everyone better watch out for L/N, she’s a sneaky one,” he commented as the video of Piers’ death was played.

~

You were woken up by a canon. Based on last night’s light show it was just you and the careers. Fuck. You were their target now. Unless they were stupid enough to think they were the only ones left and they were killing each other right now, saving you some trouble. But you weren’t quite that lucky as you heard voices.

You cursed internally as you realized the careers were literally walking below you now. You could hear them. “Who the hell is left?” a female voice demanded. “I’m pretty sure everyone else is gone.” You rolled your eyes, why would she admit that?

“No,” a male voice interrupted. “There’s one person left. I’m not sure who but eight died the first day, ten yesterday, and we just killed one more. There’s one more person left.”

“Well then, who the fuck is it?” She then began listing both tributes from each district, including you. “Who else is left?”

“I don’t know, but the math doesn’t lie. Eight plus ten plus one equals nineteen. Twenty-four minus nineteen equals five.”

“Whatever,” another male voice interrupted. “We’ll do what we did yesterday. If we split up, we can find whoever is left.”

“But that’s how Piers died!” the other girl protested.

“You know only one of us get out, right?” the last male who spoke corrected her. “If we kill whoever else is left, we ensure it’s one of us. And we all know one of us deserves to go home more than this last pest, right?” The others murmured in agreement before splitting off to find you.

As you waited to ensure you were alone you steeled yourself. You’ve already killed three people. If you just left everything behind and killed four more people, you could end this today and go home. But before you climbed down, you heard the chiming of another parachute. Looking up, you found another silver parachute floating down towards you. You reached out, letting it fall into your palm. Opening up, you found a note.

Get your strength up before you win this thing - Haymitch

You couldn’t help the smile that crept over your lips as you opened the container, revealing a stew. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were as you quickly ate, uncaring that you didn’t have any utensils. By the time you had finished, you had calmed down enough to set off on your mission.

It didn’t take long before you found the girl from District 2. Unfortunately, she wasn’t as dumb as District 4’s male tribute because she noticed you coming. She immediately chucked a spear at you as she turned to face you. You were able to move enough so it wouldn’t pierce your torso but it did manage to graze your shoulder.

Seeing as she didn’t manage to kill you, she immediately began running. She was fast. So, doing the only thing you could think of, you threw one of the knives in your belt at her. You were surprised the blade found its mark, sinking into her back. She fell but she wasn’t done yet so you walked over, taking her spear and stabbing it into the back of her neck.

As you continued on you noticed the thinly covered spots in the ground. Realizing that moving around unseen was a tremendous advantage, you slipped underground, ensuring you didn’t break anything in your descent. You first located the stream, replenishing your water before continuing on. You listened for footsteps as you went, almost giving up until you heard the light footsteps of who you assumed to be District 1’s female tribute.

Following the path of her footsteps, you tracked her, waiting until she was close enough to a hole for you to make your move. As soon as she was, you jumped, pulling yourself out of the earth. You had been planning to drag her underground but based on her scream, she saw you. You cursed as you dragged yourself up, giving chase to her.

She wasn’t nearly as fast as the girl from 2 because you caught up with her easily, tackling her to the ground. She struggled against you, starting a flurry of swinging limbs as both of you tried to get the upper hand. She was a lot bigger than you, attributed to her better nutrition, but she still struggled against you, screaming the names of her allies.

As you continued struggling you realized you’d have to shut her up quickly and get the hell out of there before it became two or three against one.

You found the strength to pin her, sitting on her back before sending a knife into her jugular. Just as the canon went off, you heard a yell. “Historia!” the boy from District 2 called in horror. Shit. He was huge. You’d never be able to beat him by brute force. So you ran. You went for the nearest tree that didn’t look impossible to climb but once you were about three feet off the ground, you felt a yank pull you down to the ground. Hard. You fell with so much force you were pretty sure he broke a rib because your chest exploded in pain.

You watched in horror as he swung his sword up, poised to lodge itself in your head but, with much effort, you rolled away just in time. You struggled to your feet, still holding your ribs. You threw a knife as best as you could which lodged itself into his arm. But he just ripped it out before running towards you with a sword. You jumped out of the way, once again, just in time. You knew this wouldn’t last, you were way more injured than him. As he ran at you again, you prepared to accept your death until you heard a yell. Opening your eyes you saw half of him was underground, leaving only his torso still above the earth. The only reason he hadn’t fallen completely through was because the sword sticking through his chest was lodged in some rocks, keeping him propped up.

You gasped at the sight. He looked up at you, tears in his eyes. “What are you looking at?!” he yelled. “C’mon, you did this! Kill me!” he demanded. His face was full of rage and pain, so much so you couldn’t tell if he genuinely wanted you to end his suffering or not. You would have if it weren’t for his flailing arms you were sure would try to drag you to death with him. So you turned, leaving him screaming as you stumbled towards the cornucopia to finish this.

You continued on for what seemed like forever. The pain in your chest was only getting worse as breathing became harder. The only, very slight, relief was the sound of the canon as the boy from District 2 finally died. The only question was whether he had succumbed to his injuries or if the final tribute, the boy from District 1, had put him out of his misery and told him to be careful of you. Either way, you knew you had to get the drop on District 1. You couldn’t beat him by brute force, especially in this state. So you went to the Cornucopia, waiting for him inside and trying not to fall asleep.

~

“C’mon, don’t fall asleep,” Haymitch murmured to himself as he literally sat on the edge of his seat.

The sponsors who had sent you food and medicine sat around him, watching too. Everyone was shocked when you started picking off the careers, even more so when you managed to avoid death at District 2’s hands. He had nearly let the tears fall when the boy had dragged you to the ground, clearly injuring you severely. But you managed to survive and now you just had one more obstacle to overcome.

“Oh, here comes Blackford,” Caesar announced as the boy from District 1 ran out towards the cornucopia.

He stood in front of it, arms stretched out, with a sword in one hand. “C’mon! I know you’re out there,” he bellowed. “Let’s finish this!”

“Here she comes,” Caecilius announced as you slipped out of the cornucopia. You stepped up behind the boy, wrapping your arms around him, blade poised exactly like you had when you killed Piers.

Murmurs of excitement grew the closer you got to him, and cheers exploded as the canon went off and the boy from 1 fell at your feet. There were several congratulations to Haymitch and your sponsors as he tried not to cry in relief. You were alive. You were gonna be okay.

Prologue | Masterlist | Part I

[pitchsidestories]

10 Things I Hate About You (3) II Alexia Putellas x Reader

Part 1 I Part 2 I Masterlist I Word count: 2070

The next day, you found yourself on the training pitch an hour before the actual training was supposed to start. Impatiently, you stared at the clock. Alexia should have been here ten minutes ago but there was no sign of her anywhere. Even your coach looked concerned, and you started to wonder if Alexia was the kind of person who would leave you hanging for your joint extra training. You were deep in thoughts when something scratching your leg made you look down.

A small fluffy dog was excitedly jumping up at your leg, hoping to get some pets from you. With a gasp you squatted down, stroking the golden fur of the dog; “Hi, little one.“ “Nala? Where are you?“, a voice called from farther away. In your mind, you made the connection that the dog must be called Nala but just as you were about to answer, the small dog started licking your face.

You giggled; “Excuse me?“ “Nala, no!“, the voice was now right beside you and someone tugged Nala away from you. You looked up to catch sight of Alexia in her training clothes with a look of slight stress on her face. “Oh, she’s yours?“, you asked curiously. Your teammate nodded plainly; “Yes, she’s my dog.“

Slowly, you stood up again, meeting Alexias eyes; “You’re shoelaces are open.“ To your surprise, she didn’t even look down, instead she only let out an annoyed breath; “I’m aware. I was just about to tie them when Nala ran off.“

“You should bring her more often. I’m sure the girls would love it.“, you suggested casually as you watched Alexia put the leash back on Nala and tied it to the fence. “She’s only here because my dogsitter cancelled on me today.“, Alexia explained, turning back to you. You could hear in her voice that she hated everything about this situation. Her dog, in contrast, was panting happily. “I see.“ You looked at your coach, changing the topic; “What are we supposed to do?“

“Guess what. Training.“, Alexia answered instead of your coach. It took you a lot of will power not to roll your eyes at her; “I know, genius. Still, we need to know what exercises we’re doing.“ “How about you warm up first, genius?“, Alexia hissed back at you. “I already did that while you were running late.“, you replied. Alexias eyes narrowed; “Calm down. I just told you that my dogsitter canceled. I would have been on time if it wasn’t for that little diva.“

You both looked over at Nala who had finally laid down and watched the field attentively. “You two seem to have that in common.“, you snorted. “Oh shut up.“ Your bickering was broken up by the coach who ordered; “Time for you to warm up, Alexia.“ “Sure.“, she answered, giving you one last glance and then reluctantly started to run.

When the midfielder returned from her warming up session you let out a relived sigh:” Finally.” Your attention moved from her to the man who was coaching you both:” So what’s next?” “I told you, you need to work better together, so you’re taking turns setting the other up to score goals.”, he replied in a serious tone. Slowly Alexia nodded in agreement:” With those injuries..” “We need more goal scorer.”, you ended the sentence for her.

For a moment the brunette seemed to be surprised that you were able to read her thoughts before her face turned emotionless again, fully concentrated on the task ahead of her.

With a sigh your coach looked at both of you, almost pleading:” Just do it, girls.” “Alright. You’ll try to score first, Alexia.”, you decided as you picked up the football from his hands to place it in front of you.

Nonchalantly she shrugged her shoulders: “Fine, pass me the ball then.” “Okay.” You did as the midfielder advised you but still somehow the passes did not reach her. Frustrated Alexia shouted at you:” Can you get the timing right just one time?!” “You’re way too impatient.”, you shot back equally mad. Trying to not let her emotions overtake her in front of the coach the brunette suggested: “Let’s switch positions. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

“Fine, if you think that’s better.”, you answered. Determination on her face, Alexia fixed her ponytail before telling you:” Yes, watch.” Much to both of your surprise you slowly started scoring more goals through the midfielder’s assist. The both of you were completely immersed in your game, so you did not notice your fellow teammates slowly arriving behind your back.  

Excited Leila let out a loud shriek: “That’s unbelievable. Mapi look!” “What’s going on here?”, the other defender looked baffled at what was unfolding in front of them.  Amazed the older player mumbled: “This is midfield magic.”  

“Told you, that’s how it’s done.”, Alexia smiled satisfied at you. Equally happy about the result the coach announced: “Now we can move on to the regular training.” “Oh my god, Mapi! Were you all seeing our little session?”, you exclaimed as you realized in the moment that your teammates already have arrived. A wide grin appeared on Mapi’s face:” Obviously, we have training here now too.” “Just great.”, you sighed.

During training Alexia was doing an exercise with the defender who was a friend to both of you:” Mapi, she’s too proud to admit that I know how it’s done properly.” “Is she?”, the defender’s eyebrow went up in amusement. Annoyed the midfielder was rolling her eyes:“Yes.” “I saw something else.”, the younger player winked at her. Interested Alexia glanced at her:“What did you saw?”

Mapi raised one eyebrow with a smirk; “I think you could be a deathly duo on the pitch if you keep working on it.“ “Yes! With you two, we could win the league. Would be nice if the winners name was not Atletico again.“, Leila added, her eyes bright with excitement. Mapi nodded; “I agree. Our time is about to come!“ Alexia grimaced unhappily, while you gave your teammates a wink; “With this team, everything is possible.“

When training was finished, you let yourself fall down onto the grass and took your cleats off. For a few moments, you let your breathing slow down and enjoyed the warm sun on your skin. Just as you were about to get up, Nala came running to you and jumped onto your lap, where it curled into a fluffy little ball. “Nala!“, Alexias voice was oozing with annoyance as she had to come get a dog a second time.

Mapi passed you with her water bottle in hand, grinning; “Seems like she found her favourite in the team.“ Alexia shook her head: “Absolutely not. I don’t know why she likes her so much.“ “Didn’t you say that Nala is a good judge of human character?“, Mapi asked innocently.

“Even she is wrong sometimes.“, Alexia replied. Mapi was lowering a voice, whispering to Alexia; “You don’t really believe that, do you? The connection you two could have on the pitch is undeniable.“ “There’s no connection.“, she answered cooly.

Even though, the two tried to be quiet, you could hear every word of their exchange and frankly, you weren’t surprised by Alexias statement. Carefully, you pushed the small dog off your lap; “Time for you to go back to Alexia, Nala.“ You stood up, giving your two teammates a weak smile; “Bye, girls. See you tomorrow for the home game.“ “Bye.“

The home game on the following day went better than expected and you had to hand it to your coach, the extra training seemed to have worked. The flow in the midfield was much better than in the previous games. In the 80th minute,

Alexia even scored after your assist, just like you have been practicing it. Without thinking, you ran to her, laughing; “See? You’re not the only one who can assist goals!“ Alexia embraced you in a tight hug and when you turned your head, you can feel her lips brushing against the corner of your mouth.

Alexia frowned; “Fine, you finally got it. But you need to work on your celebration.“ “Do you kiss everyone on the lips as part of your goal celebration?“, you asked, still laughing but you weren’t sure if it was just the adrenaline or the oddness of this situation.

“I was going to kiss you on the cheek but you turned your face.“, Alexia rolled her eyes. You pulled away from her, serious again; “No time for that, we got to keep going.“ “Sure.“, Alexia mumbled and followed you into your half of the field.

In the last of the minute of the game you scored, Mapi jumped on your back, her face beaming bright:” What a goal!” “Nah.”, you tried to play it down even though you did feel proud on the inside.

Cheekily Alexia commented: “I agree with her. Mine was better.”  “No, it was not!”, you disagreed loudly, even though her comment did not erase your smile it deepened even more because of that. Having different opinions made you two thrive now instead of blocking your football creativity. Widely grinning the midfielder replied: “Yes it was.”

Playfully annoyed you asked the dark-haired defender:” Leila, what do you think? Whose goal was better?” “As long as we win, I don’t care how pretty the goals are.”, Leila answered honestly. Amused you told her:“Very diplomatic.”  “I won’t get between you two.”, she stated with a knowing smiling.

Meanwhile Alexia begun with her captain voice to draw the attention of the teammates to her: “So team..” “Yes?”, Mapi looked expectantly at her. Equally impatient Leila interjected: “What’s up?”  “Yeah, what were you about to say, captain?”, you gave her a challenging glance. “It’s time to celebrate.” “Oh yes.”, the brunette defender cheered. “I’m in.”, Mapi nodded. A crooked smile appeared on your lips: “Me too.”

As it was a prestigious win for the team you and your teammates went wild at the club celebrating that victory. Worried Alexia observed you dancing on a table, men enjoying your drunk performance:” Is it just me or can’t she handle the alcohol?”  “Who?”, Aitana sounded confused.  Her captain had enough and moved towards you: “Whatever. Hey, come down there!”  

“Oh hi, why don’t you come up?”, you giggled. Sternly the brunette hissed: “Because I still have some self-respect.”  “You’re always so serious.”, you grumbled.  For a second Alexia’s vulnerability shine through before her serious mask was on again: “I have to be.” “But what about the fun?”, you wanted to know laughing. She bit her lip: “I have fun on the pitch.” “Yes, and you had fun kissing. Oops.”, you almost tipped over.

Luckily the brunette was there to catch you: “And you can’t handle your alcohol.” “Oh please.”, you rolled your eyes.  Earnestly the Barcelona captain shook her head:“ You’re ridiculous.”  “Why don’t you annoy someone else. Let me down.”, you commanded her. Much to your surprise Alexia seemed really upset:” Because no one seems to care about how drunk you are.”  “Alexia, stop-“, you begged her. “Stop what?” “I’m fine.”, you said. “You’re obviously not.”, she scoffed.

In the morning you needed a moment to realize where you were, but Narla greeted you with her wet kisses which gave you the needed clue: „Where am I?  Narla? Hello little one.” “Seriously? You blacked out?”, Alexia was standing in the frame, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Slowly you shook your head:” No, I remember you got me to this bed.” “I did. Because you were drunk.”, the captain nodded.

Quickly you pushed the blanket away, careful not to disturb the dog:“Thanks, I should go.” “You don’t want any breakfast? I’m sure you’ll need it.”, she offered. For a moment you stopped moving:” You’ve breakfast?” “Yes, why are you so surprised?”, Alexia let out a nervous laugh.

“Because you’re so nice and I thought you hated me.”  “Who said I don’t?”, she intervened. “Your gestures, what you did last night and this morning.”, you started to explain. The captain shrugged her shoulders:” I’m just trying to help a teammate.” “Appreciate it.”, you whispered. “Because maybe I still need this teammate to score.” More serious you agreed:” Right, we’ve more to win still.”

“Maybe our coach was onto something.”, the midfielder admitted.  Before passing her you padded her shoulder for a second:“We’ll see that in the next game.”

[wileys-russo]

maternal instinct (5) II a.russo

maternal instinct (5) II a.russo

"-and then finish it with a fist bump." you returned to catch the last few words of gio's sentence, sending him a smile where bella was perched happily on his lap.

"uncle gio taught me a secret handshake." bella grinned as the boy sent you a wink and tickled the five year old who laughed and fought to pull his hands off.

you'd all spent the morning at bella's own game where her team had won 4-0 and your daughter even managed to earn herself player of the match, which of course meant mcdonalds afterwards as a reward.

alessia had needed to leave before the final whistle so she'd get to her own game in time, but you made sure to film everything she missed which you had no doubt bella would make her watch at least five times later on.

alessia's brother gio and dad mario had come to bella's game as well, which the girl made sure to tell her entire team meant they needed to play well as you buried your face in your hands out of embarrassment and alessia merely laughed in amusement as you blamed her for your daughters competitive drive.

"future captain of england in the making." alessia teased as you sent her a playful glare and smacked her knee, sipping at the iced coffee in your hand as you all cheered when bella's team lined up for kick off.

hours later now the four of you were seated together at alessia's game, arsenal with a saturday afternoon fixture for once and the weather actually quite sunny meant it was a warm one.

"here babe." you sat back down in your own seat and handed bella a drink, watching in amusement as she sipped and pulled a face. "this is water!" bellas jaw dropped in disbelief, alessia's dad chuckling beside you.

"yeah it is, because you need to stay hydrated." you laughed, pulling her cap down over her face as she huffed and moved off gio's lap, slumping down in her own seat with a frown.

"drink please." you warned, nudging her as the girl sighed dramatically but popped the straw back in her mouth, sipping for awhile and handing it back to you as you carefully put it on the ground beneath your feet.

"stop pulling faces." you chuckled at her scowl, tugging her cap back down over her face again as she huffed and smacked your hand away, pushing it back up so she could see, body covered in an arsenal home jersey with russo 23 proudly on the back, matching the ones which both you and gio also sported.

"you know bella if the wind changes and you're making a nasty face, it gets stuck like that...forever." gio warned as the five year old looked up with wide eyes, her gaze turning to you next for confirmation as you nodded your agreement.

"look bella, lessi drinks her water!" mario pointed out where both teams had quickly huddled for a drink break and a brief discussion as one of the girls from the other team was being assessed for injury in the middle of the pitch.

"yeah see, she needs water so she can keep running and running and running." you grabbed your daughter and helped her to stand on your knees as bella hummed.

"mama is pretty fast." bella nodded in agreement as alessia looked upward, clearly searching for all of you in the family and friends section, bella waving like a madwoman as your girlfriend spotted her and grinned.

you smiled softly as bella stuck her arms out, making engine noises with her mouth as alessia laughed and mirrored her movements, sending bella a thumbs up and you a wink as the whistle was called to resume play.

"mama's gonna do it! she's gonna score!" bella gasped with delight a short while later, her water completely gone now as gio had challenged her to a chugging contest earlier which you were surprised hadn't resulted in either of them becoming completely drenched.

how comfortable bella had become around alessia and how easily she'd adapted to calling her mama over the last six or so months had warmed your heart, and sure enough your girlfriend found a gap and she was off in a flash of blonde and red, peeling down the sideline with the ball at her feet.

flicking it seamlessly across to beth her shot was blocked but it meant the rebound landed right back at your girlfriends feet, alessia not wasting a second booting it with all her might and you watched with baited breath as it sailed through the air and swooshed right in the top corner of the goal.

a mighty cheer echoed around the stadium as everyone leapt to their feet in celebration, alessia's arms shooting out as she raced around like a plane sending your daughter into a fit of happy giggles.

"air russo! air russo! air russo!" bella chanted, gio joining in as they both jumped up and down clapping and you grabbed your phone to take a quick video to show your girlfriend later on.

alessia's goal put the gunners in front 2-1, then in a matter of minutes which felt like hours with the ongoing offensive attempts from the opposition, the full time whistle finally sounded and you exhaled in relief.

"and to think, you were once a liverpool fan." marios arm wound around your shoulders with a tut as you shook your head, the team in question being who arsenal had just beaten.

"is there anyone she's not told that to? i was a child i didn't know any better!" you sighed, smiling curling into your features as bella and gio jumped around celebrating. "well some children know better." mario teased as you elbowed him softly.

"aren't you a man united fan?" you quipped back as he whistled and held his hands up in surrender, unable to argue the fact.

"can we go see mama now?" bella asked impatiently awhile later as you'd had to practically hold her back while alessia made her way around the pitch signing things, wanting to give the blonde some time and space to do so without bella attached to her leg.

"yeah babe we can go and see mama now." you smiled, taking her hand and leading her down toward the barrier, catching alessia's eye who held up a finger and turned away, smiling for a photo with a fan before making an apology to the small crowd still waiting.

you showed your pass to security who let you through the barrier gate, joining a few of the other girls and their families who were gathered on the pitch.

spotting alessia bella wasted no time tugging her hand from yours and sprinting off, meeting her halfway as your girlfriend scooped her up. "well hello mutant." alessia grinned, hoisting the girl up on her hip and arriving in front of you.

"hi big foot!" bella grinned back, poking alessia's nose who gasped and blew a raspberry on your daughters cheek making her squeal. "you're all sweaty!" bella whined as alessia hugged her, purposefully rubbing her cheek against bellas shoulder and putting her down as the girl started to wiggle.

"you can go say hello bell." you chuckled catching bella waving through the strikers legs to a few of alessia's teammates she'd come to know quite well.

"but no being cheeky!" alessia called after her in a playful warning as she took off, sending you both a thumps up and almost tripping over as lotte hurried to catch her.

"you know less i think she might be catching your clumsy." you hummed with a disapproving shake of your head, smile on your lips as your girlfriend rolled her eyes playfully and drew you in for a hug.

"she's right you are sweaty." you mumbled feeling the taller girls body vibrate with quiet laughter. "mm but you love it." alessia teased, kissing your cheek as the two of you broke apart.

"your dad and gio send their love, they had to race out to beat traffic to get your mum from the airport." you explained as the blonde nodded, advising she'd call them later anyway as her fingers intertwined with yours.

"the girls are going out afterwards, dinner and drinks." alessia started and you could already tell by the adorably nervous look on her face where this was going. "then you're going too, match winner." you assured before she could say another word.

"but bella-" "will understand."

"you could both come, a few of the others are bringing partners anyway!" alessia perked up hopefully as you sent her a smile. "a five year old at a bar with a bunch of drunk footballers?" you chuckled as the girl deflated a little with a nod of understanding.

"i'll tell them i'm not going." "less, you're going." "but-"

"no, you're going. baby i love you very much and so does bella, but we get to have you all the time. we know we have to share every now and then!" you smiled reassuringly as alessia sighed, slumping her taller body into you for another hug, hands settling on your hips as yours wound around her neck.

"you have tomorrow off yeah? we can all spend the day together then, tonight you need to be with the girls and celebrate the win." you gently scratched at the base of her neck with your nails like you know she liked, squirming a little as she puffed out air into your neck with a nod.

"part of being a parent is compromise. bella might seem a bit upset that you're not going to be home tonight, but she'll forget about it in like an hour you know what she's like." you chuckled as alessia nodded again and stood up straight, pecking your lips quickly in a silent thank you.

“a family day…i can’t believe i have a family.” alessia whispered to herself with a shake of her head in slight disbelief. “well unless you’re some weird sort of alien then i’m pretty sure you’ve always had a family?” you teased as her big blue eyes flickered to you and her lips curved into a smirk.

“cheeky girl.”

"can we make pizzas for dinner? please!" a tiny bundle of red barreled into both of your legs. with one arm slung around your knee and one around alessia's bella wiggled her way in between the pair of you with hopeful eyes.

"listen mutant-" alessia started, crouching down to be at eye level with the five year old as you sent leah a wave who gave you a smile a few feet away.

"i'm gonna go out for dinner with the team tonight and you're gonna head home with mummy. but i'll be there when you wake up!" alessia assured as bella's smile faded. "do you have to?" bella asked with a disappointed frown, alessia looking up at you as you nodded encouragingly.

"yeah i do. but hey tomorrow how about we have a bella day? we can all hang out all day, just the three of us. do whatever you want!" alessia offered, using her thumb to shift bellas pout away as the five year old hesitated for a moment.

"can we go get breakfast? and ice cream? and flowers? and kick the ball in the park? you said you would teach me the back heel!" bella burst out in one very fast sentence, clasping her hands together with puppy dog eyes as alessia let out a laugh.

"yeah we can do all of that, and then make pizza for dinner. i promise!"

"do you promise to come kiss me goodnight when you get home? even if im asleep?" bella asked hopefully as you melted, running a hand through her hair fondly as alessias own face softened and she nodded.

"yeah bells, i promise."

~

you looked over at your phone as it vibrated, startled a little by the sudden message this time of night as you grabbed it and frowned.

iMessage from; leah at 11:23pm incoming.

"incoming?" you mumbled with a frown of confusion, jumping again as there were a few loud sharp knocks on the door, kicking off the blanket and hurrying over as they sounded again.

glancing out the peephole you relaxed once you saw who it was, unlocking the door and pulling it open as alessia practically fell inside and you grabbed her arm to steady her.

"jesus less." you shook your head as she straightened up with a big dopey grin, clearly far from sober as you closed and relocked the front door.

"baby theres one thing you have to know!" alessia slurred slightly, poking your nose as you smiled and raised an eyebrow curiously.

"this was not my fault."

"oh is that so?" you smiled, her hands finding home on your hips as she leaned into you and nodded.

"scouts honour!" she held up two fingers making you laugh. "you're an idiot. you know that?" you smiled pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"and you're beautiful. so, so, so, so, so, so so so beautiful!" alessia grinned a big dopey smile, squeezing your hips and leaning in for a kiss which you turned your head and had it land on your cheek.

"did you just pie me!" the blonde gasped as you smacked a hand over her mouth and glanced toward the living room door which remained closed. "kiss me properly!" alessia yanked your hand away and scowled.

"less bella is asleep!" you shushed her in warning as the girl merely scoffed and pulled a face. "kiss me. right now!" the blonde demanded, crossing her arms and you couldn't help but smile as she swayed to and fro slightly.

"your mouth smells like a bar cart. clean your teeth and then i'll kiss you!" you flicked her nose and turned to sit back down on the lounge to finish the movie you'd paused. "alessia!" you squealed as suddenly a body tackled into you sending you flying over the arm rest and smacking down on the sofa.

"kiss me!" alessia yelled as you smacked a hand over her mouth, eyes darting toward the living room door and holding your breath, exhaling tiredly as suddenly it swung open and a small body appeared, teddy in hand.

"you woke her up dickhead!" you whispered with a scowl, smacking your girlfriends shoulder who gasped and rolled off of you, promptly dropping to the floor. "mama?" bella yawned, wandering over as alessia groaned and rubbed her tailbone.

"daughter!" alessia sung out happily, taking bella off guard as she grabbed her and engulfed her in a bear hug, laying the two of them down on the floor and repeatedly kissing her head.

"my daughter. can i say that? oh im saying it anyway! isabella i love you so much." alessia cried out as you sighed and bella gave you a strange look, wiggling her way out of the strikers grip.

"is mama okay?" she directed the question to you as alessia was busy listing off everything she loved about both you and bella, still laid down on the floor with her arms over her face.

"mama is fine, she just had a special drink at dinner which makes her act a bit silly." you explained, taking your daughters hand and starting to lead her back toward her bedroom. "oh shes drunk!" bella realised with a nod as you gave her an incredulous look.

"who taught you that word?" "grandma!" "of course she did."

"hey she promised she'd kiss me goodnight!" bella reminded, hovering in the living room door, alessia still preoccupied with her drunk emotional rambling as you sighed.

"mama will come kiss you goodnight when we go to bed." you gently promised bella, tugging on her hand and sighing in relief when she made no move to argue, allowing you to tuck her back into bed without another word, eyes already fluttering closed as you smoothed her hair away and kissed her forehead.

"i love you to the moon and back mummy, big foot too." bella mumbled tiredly as you backed up toward the door. "we love you just as much babe, maybe even a little more." you promised, bella now dead asleep again making you chuckle and gently pull her door closed.

you frowned as you returned to the living room and your girlfriend was not where you'd left her, a crash in the kitchen having you hurry in that direction.

"when did you change?" you asked in disbelief, her dress gone and now replaced with a large baggy t-shirt covering her body instead. "i put clothes on fast. take em off even faster!" the blonde winked which ended up as a blink as you covered up your laugh with your hand.

"what are you doing now?" you sighed as she rummaged around in the fridge, grabbing out an odd variety of ingredients. "makin food. m'hungry!" alessia mumbled out, mouth full of ham as you grimaced and pulled yourself up to sit on the counter.

"go watch your movie babe, i got this!" alessia snapped her fingers confidently, stumbling slightly and knocking the chopping board down to the floor with a clatter that had your head whipping around to check bella was still asleep.

"i think you need some supervision, and no knives or stove!" you warned the older girl who grumbled something under her breath, grunting as she bent down to grab the chopping board.

"whose the chef here missy?" alessia wagged her finger at you as you shook your head with a smile. "whose the sober one here missy?" you mocked back in the same tone, watching as she returned several items to the fridge and seemed to settle for a ham and cheese sandwich.

"i wanted pasta." the blonde grumbled with a huff. "theres leftover pasta in the fridge!" you laughed quietly as her head snapped around to look at you in disbelief.

with a roll of your eyes you hopped down, returning the ham and cheese to the fridge and feeling your girlfriend hug you from behind, slouching over as her cheek pressed against your shoulder and you pulled out the tupperware of leftovers.

"whose the chef now?" you grinned as she let go of you and took the container from your hand, surging forward to press her lips against yours and nearly sending you toppling backwards into the fridge.

"alessia!" "love you, so so much." "eat your pasta you freak." with a chuckle you pulled yourself back up onto the counter again as she stumbled her way over to the microwave, not bothered with a bowl and putting the entire container in to heat up.

"hello gorgeous." the striker mumbled, hugging your torso as she slumped over again and rested her head against your stomach. "hi baby." you smiled, twisting your fingers through her hair and scratching at her scalp.

"so what happened to 'i'll just have a drink or two' hm?" you hummed, feeling her hand slip up the back of your top and trace circles on your lower back.

"i did! then i had a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, and then i lost count." your girlfriend slurred voice muffled as her face was still pressed into your stomach making you chuckle.

"didn't you say you get dreadful hangovers?" you questioned in amusement as her pasta beeped and she pulled herself back. "no! me? never." alessia grinned, reaching up to pinch your cheek and stumble over to the microwave.

"mmm good, because we have a long day of activities and you know bella isn't one for a sleep in!" you tutted and if alessia heard you she made no move to respond, sighing happily as she shoveled a mouthful of pasta into her mouth and quickly spat it back it out.

"urgh less!" "too hot!" "thats disgusting." "no its actually pretty good, want some?" "do i want some pasta that you just spat back out of your mouth? no thanks love." "hey i've put plenty of things in my mouth that you don't mi-" "alessia!"

the blonde giving you a cheeky grin you left her to it, going to check on bella before the pair of you headed off to bed yourselves, knowing occasionally your daughter had a habit of sleep walking which meant she'd end up asleep curled up in her wardrobe.

thankfully she was still sleeping soundly in bed when you poked your head in, one leg kicked out of the side of her blankets making you smile, a habit she'd picked up from her dad who told her from a young age it was the only way to sleep at the 'perfect temperature'.

closing her door again you noticed the lights behind you were off and you assumed your girlfriend had taken herself off to bed which is where you headed next.

"oh my god." you covered your mouth in disbelief at the sight before you, alessia passed out on top of the covers, one hand gripping the half eaten container of pasta and the other around a water bottle, mouth just ajar as her chest rose and fell.

with a snicker you shook your head and confiscated the pasta, hurrying off to the kitchen and dumping the remains into the bin, leaving the container in the sink to be dealt with tomorrow.

returning to the bedroom you carefully tugged the water bottle from the blondes hand, placing it down on her bedside table. "lessi." you whispered, shaking her gently as she hummed and rolled onto her side.

"babe, you've still got your makeup on." you poked her back as she mumbled something incoherent and sighed. knowing she'd wake up already feeling horrid you headed for the bathroom, grabbing a pack of makeup wipes and returning.

"less, come on love." you chuckled, gently rolling her over onto her back and sitting on the edge of the bed as one of her eyes cracked open and she muttered something that was not english.

you only hummed in agreement, carefully wiping off her makeup as she continued to mumble, not a single word of it making sense as your smile grew in amusement.

"kiss." the blonde managed out as her other eye opened and she blinked sleepily, fisting your shirt and tugging you downward as you indulged her with a few sweet pecks to her lips and pryed her fingers off, returning the wipes to the bathroom.

with a struggle you managed to get the taller girl to wiggle and shift herself so the pair of you could at least be half under the covers.

a few seconds of peace passing in the dark your eyes closed tiredly before there was a grunt and your girlfriend suddenly rolled over to practically lay herself on top of you, face burying in your neck as your hands slipped up her top and scratched her back.

"you're lucky i love you russo."

~

"good morning!" your eyes fluttered awake at the thump of your door opening, footsteps sounding before a little blonde head popped up at the end of the bed with bedhair and a grin, pulling herself up.

"morning babe." you smiled, alessia still dead to the world next to you, laying on her stomach now as bella thumped herself down on top of you, hugging you tightly as you attempted to smooth out her wild mess of hair.

"is big foot dead?" the five year old frowned, poking at the strikers back beside you who only grunted. "no she's just sleeping, i think you should wake her up. the special way!" you encouraged with a grin, settling yourself back into bed as bella's face lit up happily.

"really?" "really. its a bella day today right?" "right!"

with that she jumped off the bed as you winced but she seemed fine, disapearing out of the room on the hunt for what she needed.

"lessi baby." you started softly, laying back down and slotting your body into hers, softly kissing her neck, not even a flinch.

"time to wake up love, we have plans to get ready for." you cooed in her ear, placing a few loving kisses to shoulder as your hand moved to rub slowly up and down her back. "don't care." was all you received in response alongside a troubled sigh.

"yeah you do baby. i really really think its in your best interest if you get up now!" you spoke gently, hand moving to rest on her hip now as you again shook her body.

"no." alessia huffed grumpily, rolling to face away from you. "alright, well can't say i didn't warn you." you sighed in defeat as you heard bellas footsteps making their way back toward your room.

your smile widened seeing what she had in her hands and you shuffled across a little to give her more room as she climbed back onto the bed.

your hand shot out to steady bella who stood to her feet and nearly fell backward before she found her balance, and then she pounced.

"wake up! wake up! wake up! wake up! its moooorning!" bella sung out at the top of her lungs, jumping up and down on top of alessia who moaned, arm slithering out of the covers to try and push her off.

"no come on!" your girlfriend groaned as bella smacked the wooden spoon against the pot in her hand, causing even you to wince as a deafening noise filled the bedroom and alessia grabbed her pillow, shoving her head underneath it in an attempt to block it out.

"happy sundayyyy! happy sundayyyy! happy sundayyyy!" bella continued to sing and jump, banging her spoon against the pot as you chuckled and rolled onto your back to stretch out.

"please make it stop." your girlfriend begged quietly beside you, her attempts to throw bella off useless as the five year old plopped herself to sit down on alessia's back, still singing and bashing her pot as she bounced up and down.

"afraid i can't, its a bella day so she chooses when she stops." your hand slipped under the pillow to honk the footballers nose as she smacked you but missed, hand thumping against the mattress while you sat up and slipped out of bed.

"pancakes?" "pancakes!" bella cheered in agreement, clearly happy to forgo her original plan of the three of you going out for breakfast.

despite her self inflicted pain you did feel a bit sorry for your girlfriend and you knew rushing her out the door to a cafe would only worsen her mood and impending hangover.

"big foot get up! big foot get up! big foot get up!" bella chanted, now back to jumping up and down on the bed and still smashing her pot and spoon as you chuckled and left the pair of them behind.

"bella, babe please just give me five more minutes of sleep, come and have a cuddle?" "no! get up lazy, i'm in charge today!"

~

"mummy come run with us!" bella called out, practically hopping up and down on the balls of her feet as her and alessia stopped their training for a water break.

"i'm horizontal running." you called back, laid down on a picnic blanket in the park, sunglasses covering your face which was bathed with the warm glow of the early afternoon sun.

"that is not a thing!" alessia laughed, a squeal leaving your mouth as she squirted her water bottle at you and you winced at the cold droplets which rained down onto your sunkisses skin.

"i'll leave the running to you footballers." you dismissed with a wave as your girlfriend shook her head with an amused smile.

"less!" you squealed again, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and dropping your sunglasses down to glare at her as more water was sprayed in your direction.

"hey that one wasn't me." the blonde pointed accusingly at bella beside her who gasped and pushed at her leg. "was too! mummy shes lying." bella protested, stomping her foot and glaring up at alessia who pulled a face, spraying her bottle at the five year old instead.

"oh look mutant its raining!" the blonde gasped, sprinting off with a grin as bella chased after her, own bottle in hand and trying to get her back as the pair of them raced around the park spraying one another.

with a chuckle you adjusted alessia's shirt which was tucked under your head as a makeshift pillow, both her and bella in sports bras and shorts as they chased one another for awhile before eventually returning to actual training.

"then you flick it back and...cele!" you watched with a smile as both alessia and bella sprinted around in circles, arms shot out straight like planes, bella having been begging your girlfriend to teach her a back heel ever since she'd watched a few of alessias matches back.

"you forgot to show her the part where you miss the easy goal first!" you called out teasingly, alessia scowling at you playfully before her attention was captured by bella again and you closed your eyes.

however your lack of watching had meant you'd missed alessia call over your daughter and whisper something in her ear, the two of them growing bored of football and advancing slowly toward you.

"get her!" your eyes shot open at that as you pushed the sunglasses up onto your head just in time to see bella jump on top of you, alessia following suit.

"no! no no no please." you begged as both girls fingers jabbed into your sides, your body thrashing as alessia held you down with a grin, your laughter filling the air as bellas own little giggles joined in.

"mission completed mutant!" alessia high fived the younger girl as the two of them finally ceased their attack, bella running off to kick the ball again as you struggled to catch your breath.

"stop using her to gang up on me russo!" you kicked her as you panted, sides aching from laughing so hard.

"never gets old." alessia grinned cheekily, hovering over you and sweetly pecking your lips a few times as you shook your head and flipped her off, still trying to recover.

"stop kissing her and come play football!" bella groaned, hands on hips with a frown as alessia glanced at her over her shoulder. "you've been told." you clicked your tongue, alessia sloppily kissing your cheek before pushing herself back up.

"hey bell do you wanna learn how to do a front flip throw in?" "alessia shes five!" "joking! only joking!"

~

"thank you." alessia smiled as she tapped her card to pay, your hands full with your own and bellas ice creams as your girlfriend took hers and followed you outside where your daughter was sat at a table waiting.

"mummy!" she gasped in disbelief as you took a bite before handing the cup of soft serve to her. "what? parent tax!" you shrugged as bella huffed, cradling her ice cream protectively with a mean glare.

"less!" you gasped next as your girlfriend leaned over and took a bite from yours, causing bella to giggle and give her a high five. "what? girlfriend tax!" the blonde smiled smugly, licking her own ice cream as you shook your head.

"bella!" alessia laughed as the girl grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand downward so the five year old could sneak a bite of her ice cream. "what? kid tax!" the girl grinned clearly pleased with herself.

"oh kid tax is it? little monster." alessia pushed a finger through her ice cream and swiped it onto bellas nose who squealed. "what are we putting on our pizzas?" your daughter asked once you'd wiped her nose clean.

"bella we're eating ice cream and you're already thinking about dinner?" "not me! my tummy monsters hungry, and he wants pepperoni on his pizza."

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit - pt.iii

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

summary: As Jenna becomes more entwined in your life, you find yourself pulled deeper into the high-stakes world of racing—looks like you've got yourself your first race.

word count: 8.4k

————

The garage is usually alive with the hum of engines, the clank of tools, and the scattered voices of the crew. Everyone has their own rhythm here, groups within the crew naturally falling into place as they work on separate projects. But today is different. As soon as you walk in, you notice the shift.

The crew is huddled around Anton who has his phone out, their laughter cutting through the usual noise. You can't see what's on the screen from where you stand, but whatever it is, it's got everyone's attention. Curiosity pulls you in closer, your brow furrowing.

As you approach, Anton's voice carries over the group, smooth and teasing. "And here she is, looking all serious and focused... but wait for it..."

The guys chuckle, and you stop in your tracks, confused. You can't quite make out what's on the screen yet, but the way they're talking—it feels weirdly intimate. You shake your head, taking a few more steps forward, trying to get a look.

Anton continues, now with a mocking tenderness. "Right there! Look at that—I believe that's what we call young love, folks."

The laughter rises again, and something clicks. A sinking feeling erupts in your stomach. Heart racing, you push through the crowd until you finally see the screen. Your heart skips.

It's you. And her. Jenna.

There it is—your encounter in the garage yesterday. The split-second moment when you locked eyes with her, the subtle smirk she flashed your way. The way your hand wrapped over hers as she was holding the wrench. It all plays out on the surveillance screen, frozen in time, but somehow magnified, more intimate than you even remember.

Shit.

"Awh, my little Y/n's all grown up," Anton coos, not missing a beat as he notices you standing there now. His voice is laced with smugness. "Didn't know you had it in you."

You clench your jaw, "Shut up, Anton."

"Oh, come on! It's cute," one of the guys calls out, nudging you as if this whole situation isn't embarrassing. "A girl like that?" another crew member hollers with a whistle. "She's no Brimstoner, that's for sure. Where'd you find her, Y/n?"

As you look around you notice that everyone is looking at you with curiosity. You let out a breath. It seems like no one was able to recognize Jenna from the race. No one knows she's from Summer Valley—that she's a Viper.

"It's not what it looks like," you mumble, trying to sound indifferent.

Anton lets out a low laugh. "Sure it's not. Admit it, you've got yourself a girl now."

The teasing hits deeper than it should, and you feel your heart pounding. They're all grinning, eating this up, but for you, it's just a reminder—you still haven't texted her. Despite knowing your answer, you weren't sure when it was appropriate to text her, it's only been about 12 hours since you dropped the girl off at her home. And you were dreading seeing her again.

"Alright, alright, enough about Y/n's mystery girl. Everyone, get back to work!" Anton says, half-joking but with a playful edge. "I need a word with my cousin."

The rest of the crew grumbles as they scatter, returning to their tasks. Anton slings an arm around your shoulder, guiding you over to the car you'd stolen the night before.

"Market value on this baby is through the roof," he says, his fingers trailing along the sleek metal. "You probably won't need to work for a while after this score."

"Yeah," you reply, your mind already preparing for the real reason Anton pulled you aside.

"So... who's the girl?"

Who is she? The question lingers, heavier than you'd like to admit. What could you even tell him when you didn't fully know yourself?

"She's just someone I met at a pub a while back," you lie smoothly.

Anton clutches his chest dramatically. "You're hitting up pubs without me now? I thought we did everything together!"

"It was after one of my sales," you say, rolling your eyes. "I needed to unwind, grabbed a drink, and met her. Simple as that."

He raises an eyebrow, grinning knowingly. "I've never seen a Brimstoner that looked like that."

"She's not from Brimstone," you say quickly, the words tumbling out. "She's from... Ridgewater."

"Ridgewater, huh?" Anton mutters, as if that explains everything. "So, she your girlfriend?"

The question catches you off guard, heat creeping up your neck and flooding your cheeks. You'd been battling that blush since you stepped into the garage, memories of the night before playing on a loop in your mind. Everything about her made your pulse quicken. The thought of being her girlfriend... it sent a jolt of excitement through you, one you weren't quite ready to face. It was too early to sort out your feelings, but you couldn't deny she was stunning, and the pull between you both was undeniable. The lingering glances, the teasing banter, the subtle touches—there was a chemistry brewing between you two that you couldn't ignore.

"We're just... talking," you reply, though a small part of you wonders why you didn't just say she was a friend. Too late now.

"Anyway, what did you want to talk about?" you ask, eager to change the subject.

"It's actually about your girl's ends," Anton begins, leaning in. "I've got some friends from Ridgewater in town, and they're looking for a friendly race with our club."

You raise a brow, not quite sure why this involved you.

"I, uh, might've mentioned your name for a race against one of their drivers," he admits, mumbling the last part under his breath.

"Anton, what the hell?!" you snap.

"Come on! It's just for fun—one race, no big deal. No stakes. You don't even have to wear a Sinner jacket."

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to keep calm, but you still end up rambling. "Anton, you know how I feel about this stuff. I... I still don't even know what I want. I've never raced before. I'm going to suck."

"You could lose by an hour, and I wouldn't care," he says with a shrug. "I just want you to give it a shot, Y/n. Like I said, no stakes—just a little friendly racing."

You sigh, unsure but softening. "I'll think about it."

Anton nods, clearly taking your indecision as progress. A week ago, you would've shot him down without a second thought. "Race is in a week today, 7 p.m., same spot as last time," he says, already walking off with a wave.

He stops just before he reaches the other end of the garage, turning back with a grin. "Oh, and invite your girl! Bet she'll find it hot!"

And just like that, your cheeks burn again.

You blame your inexperience with girls for how easily your cheeks betray you. It's just embarrassment, that's all. Now, you're apparently faking a relationship and have a race tomorrow. Perfect.

Needing to clear your head, you turn toward your workbench, ready to lose yourself in modifications to the car you'd stolen. But the moment you pick up the wrench, an involuntary smile stretches across your face.

"Oh, you've got it bad," a familiar voice chuckles behind you.

You groan, not again. Bracing yourself for another round of teasing, you turn around only to feel a sense of relief wash over you. It's just Hunter.

Hunter always seemed out of place among the crew. He was too pure to be mixed up in Brimstone—too decent. But everyone had their reasons for being here.

"You're lucky no one recognized her," he whispers, stepping up beside you.

"W-what?" you stammer, caught off guard.

"I was right next to you at the Vipers' race, remember?"

Your eyes widen, your heart rate kicking up a notch as you realize he knew who—or rather what Jenna was. Although you trust Hunter, it only takes one slip for the crew to find out about your association with a Viper.

"Relax, my lips are sealed," he says with a reassuring smile. "You were practically making heart eyes at her the whole race though—hard not to notice."

"I was not watching her like that!" you protest, maybe too quickly.

"Uh-huh, and I'm not gay. Come on, Y/n/n, let's not lie."

You drop the wrench and face him, unsure of why he was so accepting of this. "You don't think it's weird that she's a Viper? We're supposed to be, like... sworn enemies!"

Hunter smirks. "Please. That's half the thrill, isn't it? And since when have you ever avoided doing something just because it's 'not allowed'?"

You both glance at the car you stole and burst into laughter.

"We're not dating," you start. "I wouldn't even say we're friends. Last night was the first time I saw her again since the race, and that's what you saw on the camera footage." You find yourself admitting more than you planned to, trusting the older guy more than you expected.

"Do you want to date her?" Hunter asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No!" You blurt out, way too fast.

Hunter just narrows his eyes, giving you that look. "I thought we agreed no more lying."

You fumble for words. "I-I mean, I don't even know her! I've known her for what, four hours? Sure, she's beautiful—okay, really beautiful—but that doesn't mean I'm thinking about a relationship." You pause, trying to gather your thoughts. "Besides, I've got a lot going on right now. You know that."

"You and your excuses," Hunter sighs. "When are you going to start living for yourself? I care about you like a little sister, and you need to take chances before you regret it. If you keep waiting for the 'perfect time,' you'll just end up with a bunch of what-ifs. If you don't know what you want, how will you ever find out if you don't try?"

This is the third person to lecture you about your life choices and philosophy in the span of two weeks. Anton, Jenna, and now Hunter. Clearly you were doing something wrong if more than one person has called you out on it.

"Alright, I want to—I want to get to know her," you finally manage to say. "I should probably text her, right?"

"She gave you her number?" Hunter asks, raising an eyebrow.

You nod. "Yeah, last night. But it's only been 12 hours, I don't want to seem desperate."

"Oh my god, text her, you idiot!"

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you pull out your phone, search for Jenna's name, but you couldn't find her number. You go to your recently added numbers and smile at the name she saved herself as: Your Favourite Viper. You send her a text.

"What'd you say?" Hunter asks leaning closer taking a look at your screen.

"Hey? You fucking just said 'hey'?" He looks at you incredulously. "I thought lesbians were supposed to move fast. At this rate you'll maybe get a hug in a couple years."

Before you can fire back, your phone lights up, showing an incoming call.

"Holy shit," you mutter, eyes darting to Hunter in panic.

"Answer it! Oh my god, see what she wants!" he whispers urgently, practically vibrating with excitement.

You stare as her name flashes across the screen with shaky hands. It was just another call. Just another girl. Why are you so nervous?

You take a breath and answer. "Hello?"

"Hey Greaser! You busy right now?"

Even though the phone isn't on speaker, Hunter's glued to your side, frantically shaking his head and mouthing, No! Say no! His exaggerated hand gestures make you laugh.

You laugh at how insane he looks. "No, I'm free. What's up?"

"Great. Meet me at Birch and 49th."

"Why? What's happeni—"

Before you could finish your sentence you're caught off by a beep, indicating the call ended. "Anddd she hung up," you sigh.

"I like her," Hunter grins. "She's got moxie."

"Where even is Birch and 49th?" you ask, frowning.

"Hold on, I got you." He pulls out his phone, tapping around for a moment. "That's weird. It's a shopping mall in Summer Valley."

"A mall?" you echo, confused. "Is she taking me shopping. What the fuck?"

The older guy laughs and shrugs. "No one told you to go after a girl from Summer Valley."

"I'm not going after anything."

"Sure you're not," he teases, smirking. "Yet, you're still heading to this mall. Sounds like you're going after her."

You flip him off with a grin as you walk away.

"Keep me posted, Greaser!" he calls out, teasing.

You shake your head, already feeling the nerves returning. If you're really going to meet Jenna, you need to pull it together.

You decide it's best to meet Jenna with some leverage—maybe some news on Percy.

You spot Anton deep in conversation with Madison, just like the day of the race against the Vipers.

"Yo, Ant! I'm heading out!" you call, interrupting them without a second thought. You weren't in the mood for formalities.

Both of them turn, startled by your sudden presence. There's something off about them—stressed, maybe? Anton looks angry, but whatever flash of frustration you thought you saw vanishes quickly. "Oh, hey. Where you headed?" he asks, casual but guarded.

"Just heading to the Valley to look for some parts," you lie smoothly, keeping your story close to the truth. No need to risk getting caught if someone actually sees you at the mall.

Anton nods, signaling the end of the conversation, but you're not done yet. You clear your throat. "Actually, speaking of Summer Valley, what's the deal with that Percy guy?"

Anton's brow furrows, and Madison gives you a curious look. "I saw him at the race," you explain with a shrug, trying to play it off casually. "He just gave off a bad vibe, like he was up to no good or something."

The tension between them is palpable, but neither of them dives into it. Anton brushes it off, saying, "He's just a dumbass."

At the same time, Madison leans in with, "What'd you see?"

You turn to Madison, sensing she might let something slip. "He was talking to someone. It looked... heated?"

"Georgie," she whispers under her breath, barely loud enough for you to catch. But you do.

Before you can ask more, Anton steps in, commanding the conversation, clearly trying to shift focus. "Look, Y/n, he's bad news. I don't know what those Vipers get up to in their little after-school club, but I don't want you getting involved, okay? Vipers are trouble. Stay clear of them."

"Yeah, don't worry," you reassure him, hiding the fact that you're about to meet up with one very soon.

Suddenly Hunter's words echo in your head again: If you don't know what you want, how will you ever find out if you don't try? He was right. And now, you figure the best way to shift the conversation is by dropping a bombshell of your own.

"I'll do the race," you say, throwing out the unexpected decision.

Anton's eyes widen in surprise, and you can tell that you've just given him the perfect distraction from Percy and the Vipers.

————

As you start your drive, you can't help but notice the streets are teeming with more drugged-up souls than usual. Young, old—it didn't seem to matter; the drug epidemic in Brimstone spared no one. A familiar ache settles in your chest as you watch people you once called neighbors and classmates wander aimlessly, trapped in their addiction. It was an all-too-common escape in this town—a place where ambition had no room to grow, where dreams were crushed before they even started. The further you get out of Brimstone, the fewer of them you see, like the weight of the city's decay is gradually lifting.

You pull into the bustling parking lot of the mall, the engine's rumble fading as you find a spot near the back. It's just past 6 p.m., and the place is alive with activity. Cars are circling for spaces, people weave in and out of stores, and teenagers being obnoxious. You check your phone—Birch and 49th, just like Jenna said.

Your eyes scan the area for any sign of her, but there's no sight of Jenna. You cut the engine, but the adrenaline from knowing you're about to see her again hums under your skin.

The evening air is cool as you step out, leaning against the side of your car, trying not to seem too anxious. You check your phone again—no new messages, no calls. Maybe you should text her and let her know you're here.

Before you can even unlock your phone, the sound of soft footsteps approaching catches your attention. Instinctively, you straighten up, your eyes tracing the sleek black loafers in front of you. Slowly, you lift your gaze, and there she is—Jenna. That same confident smirk that's been etched into your mind since the last time you saw her.

She's wearing a flowy brown skirt paired with a black cashmere sweater, looking almost... harmless?

"You done checking me out?" she teases.

Your eyes snap up to meet hers. Despite her bold words, you catch the faint blush colouring her cheeks, and you can't help but hope it's because of you, not the cool evening breeze.

"Yeah, I am," you shoot back with a smirk, holding her gaze confidently.

She rolls her eyes, but smiles whilst doing so. "Alright Casanova, come on," she starts walking away from you, and you follow with no hesitation.

"Wait we're actually going to the mall?" You ask confused, as she leads you both to one of the entrances.

"Yes? Why else would I call you here. Tonight, I'm taking you shopping."

You didn't actually think she called you to go shopping.  You were only joking when you said that to Hunter.  Yet here you are.

You blink at her, caught completely off guard. "Shopping?"

"Yeah," she laughs, walking into the mall. "Come on, you'll need to keep up."

You follow her lead, trying to figure out how shopping was part of her plan to one-up Percy. A race? Sure. A late-night coffee run? Maybe. But shopping? This was a curveball.

"You're taking me shopping?" you ask again, almost incredulous.

"Yeah," she repeats with a teasing look. "You need a better jacket. That one's not cutting it."

You glance down at your worn-out jacket. It's not exactly new, but it's comfortable. "What's wrong with my jacket?"

"Nothing," she shrugs, her eyes flicking over you, clearly enjoying this. "But I want to see you in something that fits my vibe.  Something that makes you look like you're not from Brimstone."

Her words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you're unsure how to respond.  The idea of her buying you something feels... strange.  It wasn't like you needed new clothes—especially not from some fancy Summer Valley mall.  Your jacket was fine, and if it wasn't, you'd handle it.  But the fact that she wants to spend money on you?  It makes your stomach twist.  You couldn't help but wonder if she saw you as some kind of charity case—a girl from Brimstone who couldn't afford to keep up with her polished lifestyle.

You didn't want to be a project for her, someone she could mold to fit her world.  The thought makes you feel a bit defensive, but you swallow it down, not wanting to ruin the moment.  You glance at her again, her playful expression making it harder to argue.  Maybe this wasn't a charity thing.  Maybe she just liked you.

Still, it felt...weird.

You roll your eyes but can't help the smirk tugging at your lips. "So, what, you're my personal stylist now?"

She grins. "Maybe."

The two of you wander through the mall. The overhead lights cast a soft glow, reflecting off the shop windows as Jenna leads you into one of the higher-end clothing stores you'd probably never step foot in on your own.

She immediately heads toward the jacket section, flipping through racks like she's done this a million times.  You hang back, watching her with a mix of amusement and curiosity. There's something weirdly endearing about how serious she is about this.

Jenna pulls out a black leather jacket, holding it up and inspecting it. "This," she says confidently, turning to you. "Try it on."

You raise an eyebrow but take the jacket from her. As soon as you slip it on, you feel the weight of the leather, the way it fits snugly across your shoulders. It's different—definitely edgier than anything you'd pick out for yourself.  It resembled the Sinner's jacket only in that it's a black leather jacket, but something about it was entirely different—it was more you.

Jenna steps back, appraising you with a smirk that makes your stomach flip. "Now that," she says, her voice a little lower, "is hot."

You glance at yourself in the mirror, feeling a little out of place but... liking it.  You catch Jenna's eyes in the reflection, and for a second, the air between you feels charged, like there's something unsaid hanging between the two of you.

"Alright," you say, clearing your throat, trying to shake off the intensity of the moment. "I guess it's not bad."

"Not bad?" she teases, stepping closer to you. "You look like a Viper that got dipped in ink."

"Is that your plan?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Turn me into one of you?"

"Maybe," she replies, her voice light but her eyes lingering on yours a moment too long. "One step at a time, Greaser."

You laugh, shaking your head, and take off the jacket. "Okay, your turn."

Jenna raises an eyebrow. "My turn?"

"Yeah," you say, grinning now.  "If I'm trying on stuff for you, you're doing the same for me."

You have the money to spend, you just don't spend it on clothes, so one high-end purchase wasn't going to be the end of the world for you.

Jenna looks like she's about to protest, but then she shrugs, her lips curving into a playful smile.  "Alright, let's see what you've got."

You head toward a rack of clothes, picking out something you think would suit her but also give her a taste of her own medicine—something just slightly outside her usual vibe.

You hand her a dark red bomber jacket.  "Try this."

Jenna eyes the jacket before smirking at you. "I see what you're doing."

"Just trying to give you a taste of your own advice," you say, crossing your arms.

She rolls her eyes but takes the jacket anyway, slipping it on.  And of course, she pulls it off effortlessly. The red complements her dark hair and pale skin perfectly, and for a moment, you're speechless.

"Well?" she asks, spinning around with a grin. "How do I look?"

"Like you could kick someone's ass and look good doing it," you say without missing a beat.

Jenna laughs, and it's the kind of genuine, carefree sound that makes your chest tighten a little.  The two of you continue bantering, trying on ridiculous combinations of clothes, mixing high-end with completely impractical.

By the time you leave the store, both of you are laughing, arms full of shopping bags—most of which Jenna insisted on buying.

As you step back out into the quiet night and you drop off your bags in your respective cars, she turns to you, her playful smirk softening into something more genuine.

"That was fun," she says, nudging your shoulder.

You smile back, feeling lighter than you've felt in a while. "Yeah, I guess it was."

Jenna looks at you closely, searching your face, as if trying to read whether you're on the same page as her—whether you've enjoyed this evening as much as she has, and if you're not ready to call it a night just yet.

"Want to get ice cream?" she asks suddenly, her voice casual but her eyes giving her away.  There's a hint of something more in the offer, like she hopes this isn't the end.

You can't help but smile at the unexpected suggestion.

"Why not?" you say with a grin. "This one's on me."

With that, the two of you run back into the mall, a sense of urgency and excitement as you try to beat the closing time. Laughter echoes between you as you race toward the ice cream shop, determined to grab your scoops.

————

"So how exactly does shopping fit into your plan?" you ask, taking a bite of your ice cream.

The two of you ended up sitting on the edge of the now quiet parking lot, legs dangling over the curb as you chatted.  Finally, you decide to address the question that's been nagging at you all evening.

"Plan?" Jenna echoes, pausing mid-bite as she swallows her ice cream.

"Yeah, the whole thing with Percy—finding out his secrets?" you explain, slightly confused as to why you even need to clarify.

"Wait, so you're helping me?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah? Isn't that why you asked me out?" you reply, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"You didn't text me back saying yes. How was I supposed to know?"

You give her a look. "...Then why'd you invite me out?" you ask, still confused.

"Because I could," she says casually, like it's no big deal. "You said you weren't busy."

You blink at her, still trying to piece it together. "So, you just... invited me out for no reason?"

Jenna tilts her head, giving you a playful smile. "Do I need a reason?"

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The girl sitting next to you is a complete enigma.  First, she ropes you into some covert mission to gather dirt on Percy, and now she's taking you shopping and out for ice cream like it's a casual hangout.

"Well... I guess not," you mumble, feeling a little off-balance.

Jenna takes another bite of her ice cream, her gaze drifting up to the fading evening sky. "Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you.  Ever think of that?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words, but before you can react, she nudges you with her elbow, breaking the tension.  "Plus, I figured if I was going to enlist your help with the whole 'Percy situation,' I might as well reap all the benefits."

You frown, puzzled. "Like what?"

She shrugs, smirking at you. "Like seeing you in that jacket. You look good, by the way."

You can't help but laugh at that, shaking your head.  "So this was all an elaborate ploy to dress me up?"

Jenna grins. "Maybe."

You shake your head with a blush, a soft chuckle escaping you. "You'll see me in it again next week."

Jenna raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "What's happening next week?"

"I'm racing."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "Wait, seriously? You've joined the Sinners now? And you're just casually dropping that on me?"

You wave your hand dismissively. "Not exactly. It's just an exhibition race.  A week today at 7.  Same place as where we met actually. I figured it's a good chance to see if it's for me, you know?  No commitments yet."

Jenna nods thoughtfully, her expression shifting from shock to approval. "Well, it's about time you took the wheel—literally and figuratively." She smirks. "One step closer to sorting out all your issues, huh?"

"Mhmm, so you coming?"

Jenna looks taken aback by your serious tone. "How would that work? What would your crew think?"

With a sigh, you finally reveal, "They think you're my girlfriend."

She nearly chokes on her ice cream. "What?"

"They saw footage of us last night in the garage and, well... yeah. Thankfully, they didn't recognize you. I told them you're from Ridgewater."

"Ridgewater?" She scrunches her nose in disgust. "Ugh, even I can't stand those snobs."

"You're literally in the same tax bracket," you fire back, amused.

"We're way more tolerable," she insists, clearly offended. "But seriously, how could you let us get caught on camera? Don't you know there are cameras in your club's garage?"

"It's not my club. And yeah, I know, but no one ever checks them. I have no idea why Anton did that day."

Jenna sighs, the sound dripping with annoyance. The noise hits you hard, like a voice inside your head that reminds you that this doesn't mean anything, she hates being seen with you and all she cares about is risking your alliance. It stings, leaving you wondering if she's only hanging around because she needs something from you.

Wanting to shift the mood, you bring up what you overheard earlier. "Is there a Georgie in your club?"

Her eyes narrow with curiosity. "Yeah, there is. Why?"

You explain the interaction with Anton and Madison, how Madison had whispered Georgie's name when you mentioned seeing Percy having a heated conversation at the race. "I have a feeling he could help with your plan."

Jenna hums thoughtfully. "I'll get Emma to work on him," she says, already tapping away on her phone.

"Emma?" you ask.

"Yeah, she's a friend in the club. One of the few nice ones. Georgie's got a thing for her, so she'll probably be able to squeeze some info out of him."

You nod, piecing it together. That must've been the girl you saw her talking to at the race. Still, the earlier sting lingers in your chest. It bothers you more than you'd like to admit that Jenna might only see you as a means to an end.

The mood feels heavier now, so you stand up. "It's getting late. I should head back."

Jenna pauses, clearly wanting to say something more. A part of her seemed to regret driving herself here. If she hadn't, maybe this night could've stretched out longer, and you could've dropped her home like you did the previous night. But she nods, keeping her thoughts to herself. "Yeah. I guess you should."

————

The week flew by in a blur, and before you knew it, race day was here. Your first race.

You and Jenna had been texting off and on all week—mostly about the frustrating lack of progress with Percy, but there'd been some banter too, the kind that was just toeing the line between playful and flirty. At least, you hoped it was flirting.

Your nerves buzzed as you pulled up to the track, the sun starting to dip behind the skyline. The place was already alive with revving engines and the thick smell of burning rubber.

Unlike the Viper race a few weeks back, there wasn't any strict segregation going on. Sure, the Ridgewater crew—the Ravens—hung out on one side, and the Sinners were mostly on the other, but people were still mixing. Talking. No tension, no invisible lines drawn in the sand.

Stepping out of your car, the weight of the moment finally started to hit you. Anton and the crew were scattered around, but your mind kept drifting. You were thinking about the race, sure, but also about her. You hadn't seen Jenna since the mall, and even though she texted you "Good luck" this morning, the thought of her showing up was stuck in your head.

And yeah, you were buzzing to see if she'd actually come.

Hunter appeared at your side, breaking your thoughts with a friendly clap on the back. "Ready for this?" he asked, wearing that usual cocky grin of his.

You took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. I think I am."

"Good," he said with a laugh. "Because everyone's waiting to see what you're made of." He gave you a little shove, then wandered off to catch up with the others.

With one more deep breath, you walked over to where Anton and the rest of the crew were hanging out. The adrenaline was kicking in, but so was that nagging thought in the back of your mind—Would Jenna show up?

"Sweet jacket Y/n, looks like you finally splurged on yourself huh?" Anton laughs, pulling you into a bear hug.

You grin, knowing full well the jacket wasn't your doing but Jenna's. The rest of the crew were hyping you up, throwing questions your way about the race—how you were feeling, if you were ready—typical racer small talk. You played along, but your mind kept drifting.

The group started to thin out as people dispersed, and your eyes wandered over to the pillars near the edge of the lot, the spot where you first met Jenna. It was hidden, quiet—your secret spot. Was she here?

You started walking toward it, curiosity pulling you closer. That's when you saw them—four Ravens, the Ridgewater crew in their signature blue, standing around in a tight circle, talking to someone you couldn't see clearly at first. But as you got closer, the fifth person came into view.

She did come after all.

Your heart skipped a beat, that giddy excitement rising up. But that feeling was quickly replaced by something else. Her expression wasn't one of excitement or amusement. No, she looked uncomfortable. You could see it in her stiff posture, the way she subtly shifted as the Ravens talked around her.

You step closer, the voices of the Ravens becoming clearer as you approach. One of them, a tall guy with bleach-blond hair, was leaning in a little too close to Jenna, his smirk all too familiar.

"Come on, sweetheart, why don't you ditch the pillars and hang with us tonight? We're a lot more fun," he drawls, eyeing her in a way that made your blood boil.

Jenna's eyes narrow, her body language practically screaming discomfort, though she keeps her cool. "Yeah, I'm not interested," she says flatly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Blondie chuckles, not getting the hint—or choosing to ignore it. "I don't see any affiliation on you," he retorts, motioning to her lack of a jacket. "You're no Raven, not a Sinner either. You're a free agent, sweetheart. Why stick around?"

That's when you decide you've heard enough.

Stepping into the circle, you make your presence known. "She's with me."

The guy looks at you with an unimpressed raise of his brow, but before he can say anything, you shrug off your jacket—the one Jenna had bought for you—and drape it over her shoulders. "She's mine," you say, locking eyes with him, daring him to push it further.

Jenna's cheeks flush a soft pink, her eyes darting to yours, clearly taken aback by your sudden boldness. She instinctively grips the jacket tighter around her, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the situation.

Blondie snorts, glancing at his buddies before looking back at you. "Alright, alright, no need to get possessive. We were just talking." He raises his hands defensively, but the look in his eyes says he's not completely backing down. Still, they start to shift away, slowly retreating as the tension fades.

Once they're out of earshot, you turn to Jenna, your expression softening. "You okay?"

She nods, her lips curving into a grin. "Nice save," she says, still clutching the jacket. "I didn't know you were the possessive type."

You chuckle, feeling the adrenaline from the confrontation fade. "Just making sure they knew the deal."

"Yeah, well, I could've handled it." She smiles, but there's a twinkle in her eye. "But...thanks for the jacket." Her blush deepens, and you can't help but feel a little victorious seeing her like that again.

"Anytime," you reply, feeling the weight of the moment settle in. The race may be on your mind, but right now, it's her that's making your heart race.

You glance over your shoulder to check if anyone can see you, but Anton is deep in conversation with what looks like the leader of the Ravens, drawing all the attention his way. Typical Anton.

"I didn't think you'd show up," you admit, turning your gaze back to Jenna, noticing how your jacket swallows her frame, the sleeves hanging past her hands. Somehow, it looks perfect on her.

"How could I miss your first race?" she teases, her lips curling into a smirk. "You could walk out of this a full-fledged Sinner if you end up loving it."

That thought hadn't really crossed your mind before. What if you did enjoy racing? Were you really going to add "racer" to your list of titles? And if you hated it—what then? Would you leave Brimstone behind for good? Your mind starts spinning with all the possibilities, but you stop yourself before the spiral goes too deep. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

Jenna tilts her head thoughtfully. "You said this race had nothing on the line right? Just a friendly race?"

You nod, though a flicker of doubt lingers.

"Then yeah," she says, her voice firm. "I think it's fair for you to give it a shot. Figure out what you want." Her eyes meet yours, steady and reassuring. "Sometimes, you don't know until you try."

Her words calm the storm in your mind, and for the first time tonight, the weight of your choices feels a little lighter.

"I'm totally making fun of you if you lose though," she adds, giving you a playful wink.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Of course you will," you reply, trying to play it cool, though her teasing still makes your heart skip a beat.

She smirks, leaning back against the pillar with a casual confidence that somehow makes you feel even more jittery. "Just trying to keep you grounded, you know. Can't let you get a big head if you win."

"Like I need help with that," you shoot back with a grin.

For a moment, the banter eases your nerves. But then the reality of the race looming ahead creeps back in, and you glance over to where your car is parked, engines revving in the distance. The scene is alive with anticipation, and you can feel the electricity in the air, building up to something big.

"Seriously though," Jenna adds, her tone softening, "I think you'll do great. You've got the skill, the focus. Just don't overthink it, okay?"

Her words hit deeper than you expected, and you feel a warmth spreading through your chest. "Thanks," you murmur. "I'll try not to."

She gives you a small nod, her eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before flicking to the track behind you. "Go show them what you've got," she says, her voice soft but full of that undeniable spark.

You take one last look at her before stepping back, the jacket still draped around her, fitting like she was always meant to wear it.

She must've thought that look meant you wanted the jacket back, because she started to shrug it off.

"—no, keep it on," you quickly interrupt. "I can't have anyone else bothering you, especially when I won't be there to stop them."

————

Anton stood next to you outside the car, arms crossed, his usual smirk tempered by something more serious. The roar of engines filled the air around you, and the crowd was buzzing with energy as the race time drew near.

"You ready?" he asked, eyeing the car, then looking back at you with raised eyebrows.

"As I'll ever be," you replied, your fingers itching at your side. You tried to shake off the nerves, but it was easier said than done.

Anton clapped you on the shoulder, a rare look of pride on his face. "Remember, this isn't just about winning. You gotta feel it, the rush, the adrenaline. If you're not in the zone, it's game over."

You nodded, knowing he was right. Winning is not the end goal—it was the feeling, the test, to see if this whole world was something you were cut out for. You glanced around, spotting familiar faces from the crew and a few more you didn't recognize. The Sinners, the Ravens, and everyone else, all here to watch and see what you'd do.

"I know," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. "Just got to stay focused."

Anton gave you a once-over, then grinned. "You're already ahead of the game. You've got your crew, and your girl showed up to watch. Not a bad start, huh?"

You chuckled, though a part of you still didn't fully understand what you were doing here—or what you were trying to prove. But you couldn't deny the thrill of the moment.

"Speaking of which, how's she doing?" Anton asked, leaning in closer. "Saw you two getting cozy earlier."

"Don't start with that," you muttered, shaking your head.

He laughed, stepping back. "Just saying, keep your head in the game. Show them what you've got."

The loudspeaker crackled to life, announcing the final call for drivers to get to the line. Anton gave you one last pat on the back. "Oh—and Y/n? Step on it. Don't stay in your limit."

You watched him walk off with those final words. It was time.

As you slipped into the driver's seat, adjusting your gloves and gripping the wheel, you glanced out the window toward the starting line. The pit of nerves in your stomach twisted a bit tighter when you spotted the racer pulling up next to you. Of course, it had to be him—the blondie from earlier, the one who had been hitting on Jenna.

He threw you a cocky smirk as he revved his engine, clearly more than ready to leave you in the dust. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the sight of him. Typical. He looked the part—flawless car, arrogant attitude, and an ego that seemed to fill the entire track.

Here he was, thinking he'd outshine you, thinking he had this in the bag. The thought sent a new wave of adrenaline through your veins, change of plans—winning is the end goal. It was personal now.

Settling into the driver's seat, you gripped the wheel tightly. Anton's last words echoed in your mind: "Step on it.  Don't stay in your limit." But the speed he wants? You'd never gone that fast, and you weren't sure you wanted to.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you glanced at the blond in the car next to you. He was smirking like he already had this in the bag. It The memory of him hitting on Jenna made your grip tighten even more. Then your eyes shifted to where Jenna stood, wrapped in your jacket. She met your gaze for a second, and you had to look away. God, what was I thinking? You cringed internally, remembering how you had jumped in like some hero and blurted out, "she's mine." What were you doing? This wasn't you.

The signal blared. Instinct took over, and you slammed your foot on the gas. The car roared to life beneath you, and you shot forward. The world around you blurred as the race began, the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Blondie took the early lead, just as you expected. He was gunning it, probably trying to hit that 200 mark like Anton said.

You weren't even close. And you still weren't half way into the race. The speedometer was climbing fast, but the memory of your father's crash came rushing back. 200km/h—that was the speed he'd hit before everything went wrong. Your heart raced faster at the thought. No way am I hitting that. I can't. But you didn't need to. You weren't trying to match raw speed; you had something better—control, technique, and years of dodging the cops under your belt.

The first stretch was relatively straightforward, and you stayed just behind Blondie, pacing yourself. He was fast, sure, but he was reckless. You could see it in the way he took the turns, wide and messy, eating up his speed. You kept to the inside, handling each corner with precision, hugging the pavement like you were born to do this. Blondie kept glancing in his rearview, probably wondering why you weren't trying harder to catch him. He didn't get it. He didn't know you didn't need to reach that ridiculous speed to win.

The track began to curve—the finish line in sight, and you knew this was your moment. There was a sharp turn ahead, one that Blondie was approaching too aggressively. You could already see it. He wasn't going to slow down enough, and when he hit the curve, he'd either lose control or slide wide, giving you the opening you needed.

Now, you thought, pulling back just slightly as you hit the turn. You feathered the brakes, hugging the inside of the corner while Blondie flew into it way too fast. Just as you expected, his car swerved wide, giving you the perfect opportunity. You floored it, slingshotting around him with precision. He was still fighting to regain control when you shot past him.

Your heart raced, the finish line right there for the taking. The engine growled beneath you as you pushed forward, ignoring the urge to check the speedometer. It didn't matter now. You were in control, and that was all that counted. The crowd blurred into the background as the finish line rushed toward you.

You crossed first.

The roar of the crowd engulfed you like a tidal wave. Cheers erupted from every corner, your name ringing in your ears like a victory anthem. "Y/N! Y/N!" they chanted, and the excitement surged through you, igniting every nerve ending. You felt invincible, a high unlike anything you had ever experienced. The adrenaline coursed through your veins.

In that moment, you understood why people chased this feeling. It was intoxicating, addictive even, and a part of you hated that you were reveling in it. The thrill of victory mingled with the elation of having just pushed your limits. But then your eyes found her in the crowd—Jenna. She stood there, a radiant smile lighting up her face, and all at once, the adrenaline surged anew.

It was a reckless desire that ignited within you, overwhelming and raw. You wanted to kiss her, right there in front of everyone, to pull her close and celebrate your victory together. The image flickered in your mind, vivid and enticing, and suddenly, all you could think about was her. You remembered reading an article once about bank robbers who, after cracking the vault, had sex right in front of the safe due to the adrenaline. A story you once thought stupid, in that moment, it made sense. The adrenaline, the thrill of accomplishing something audacious, the heat of the moment—it was all a cocktail of desire that was too intoxicating to resist.

But as your heart raced for both the victory and for her, a small part of your mind pushed back. You couldn't deny it any longer; you wanted Jenna. You wanted her bad. And you didn't care if the crew found out who she was or if they learned she wasn't from Ridgewater. You didn't care if your alliance crumbled under the weight of it all. But as quickly as the thought ignited, a flicker of caution settled in. I can't jeopardize it for her, she's in trouble.

The cheer of the crowd faded momentarily as you wrestled with your feelings. Was this thrill rooted in the race itself, or was it because she was watching you? The two sensations intertwined, leaving you breathless. You wanted to close that distance between you—you at the finish line her at the pillars.

You leaned against your car, grinning widely as you took in the moment, the reality of what you'd just accomplished. The rush of adrenaline, the celebration of the crowd, and the promise of what was to come. With Jenna smiling back at you, you knew you were fucked. You thought with this race now over some of your questions would be answered, but now you are left with more.

————

The celebration continued long into the night, the energy of victory electrifying the air around you. The next hour unfolded in a blur of races, laughter, and clinking beer bottles. Your heart was still racing from the earlier adrenaline, but now it was fueled by the heady mix of joy and the shared exhilaration of the crowd.

As you mingled and celebrated, your eyes continuously searched for Jenna, hoping to catch a glimpse of her amidst the people. But luck was not on your side; you couldn't spot her anywhere. It was only once everyone started leaving, and you were getting ready to leave, did you spot the girl.

"Mind giving me a ride home?" she asked, knowing you won't say no.

And so there you both were, on the highway to Summer Valley. "I knew you would win," she broke the silence. "How did you like it?"

"It was...nice." you answer, eyes straight on the road. After finally admitting to yourself your growing attraction to Jenna, you found it hard to look her way; the adrenaline was still coursing through you, making your thoughts a tangled mess.

"Nice? All you're going to give me is nice?" she fires back with sass.

You laugh, "I'm just confused. I don't know if I enjoyed racing, or the attention that came from winning."

The attention that came from you.

Jenna tilted her head, studying you with a curious expression. "Come on, don't play coy with me. You know you loved it. That rush, the speed, the crowd cheering your name—it's addictive. You can't deny that."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you kept your eyes on the road. "Yeah, I guess it is. But it's more than just that. It's everything that came with it. The energy, the victory...and yo—." You cut yourself off before you regret your words.

Her brow furrowed slightly, "And what?"

You bit your lip, debating whether to dive into your feelings now or keep it light. But decided to can the idea as a whole. "Nothing, anyways was your friend able to make Georgie or whatever spill?" You ask trying to change the subject.

Jenna seemed upset about the change in topic, but didn't press it any further. "Actually yeah. He didn't give much context, but Percy's meeting someone tomorrow, and we are going to spy on that meeting," she smiles proudly.

"Sounds like a plan. Do we know anything about who he's meeting or what it's for?"

"Georgie just said something about Ghost Smoke. I don't know what that is—a new racing crew maybe? That name mean anything to you?"

"Ghost Smoke?" You parrot, making sure you heard her right. She nods her head.

From what you knew, Ghost Smoke was the latest drug that was being pushed out onto the streets. The one that's been causing the latest drug epidemic in Brimstone. If what you're thinking is true—then Percy is not someone that should be fucked with. You consider telling the girl in your passenger seat about what you know, but decide to keep quiet. Not tonight.

Before you knew it, you found yourself on the brown-eyed girl's street. You instinctively slowed down, stopping about twelve houses away—probably out of habit—but she didn't seem to mind. As she turned to you, her intense gaze pierced through the dim light, leaving you wondering what she was thinking. Was she going to lean in for another kiss on the cheek? Just as that thought flickered in your mind, it was swept away by the sound of her opening the car door.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Greaser," she said, her voice playful yet filled with a hint of mystery, before walking down the road, still wrapped in your jacket.

You remained parked in the shadows of the dimly lit street, your thoughts racing as wildly as your heart had during the race. That uneasy feeling nagged at you, refusing to fade. You had thought Jenna was the answer to your questions, a beacon guiding you through the chaos, but she also seemed to be the source of many new ones. Just what was this girl pulling you into, and why couldn't you bring yourself to walk away?

next chapter

[pshcomforts]

➳ shameless | psh.

highschool!sunghoon x fem!reader

“there’s just inches between us”

synopsis: you and sunghoon are academic rivals, always going head to head.

warnings/content: written in third pov. cursing. not proofread. sexual tension. kind of suggestive? a little bit of idiots in love. sunghoon gets jealous.. and possessive? reader’s always late to class but somehow still has the best grade. (this one’s my favorite so far)

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.9k

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s partner), min-su (heeseung’s partner), and ji-woo (jake’s partner).

current song playing: shameless by camila cabello

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

2:35 ──────────────|───── -1:04

another day, another struggle of being late to class.

y/n sighed as she checked her phone for the time.

[ 10:42am ] — it read. she felt her heart weigh down at the given time. “fucking late again..,” she groaned while speed walking her legs to class. an unusual amount of notifications blew up her silenced phone, indicating that her friends were questioning her whereabouts.

“come on, i gotta make it.” the girl harshly huffed in quiet and unsteady breaths. “mr. lee’s gonna kill me.”

in minutes, she found herself booming through the door with only deep breaths audible. [ 10:56am ] — her phone beamed.

“made it..,” she murmured through her harsh gasps for air.

“y/n, you made it!” yelled her friend, dae, who had widened eyes. “well to second period but..”

“y..yeah, hold on… give me a second.” her hands smacked down on his desk as her head lowered with exhaustion.

dae giggled at her state. “did you run here?”

“i basically did!” she yelled out, causing him and their two other friends — min-su and ji-woo to laugh as well.

“you’re who i have to beat and yet you can’t even get to class on time?” a voice from behind jerkily snorted.

y/n’s head instantly bolted up at that familiar, stupid tone she could easily recognize. “shut the hell up, park. you’re here more than me and yet your scores are lower, you really wanna mention who’s beating who?” she shot back with an intense glare.

her rival, sunghoon, only chuckled in a laugh at her words. “your score was lower than mine last test, second place. i don’t think you should be talking either.” he let a stupidly handsome smirk tug onto his lips.

she rolled her eyes, blood beginning to boil the more she looked at him. “who’s grade is higher hm? exactly.” the girl uttered, before turning her full back to him.

she heard him humor a chuckle before giving a faint ruffle to her hair. “we’ll see about that, nerd.” her hands went to the messy strands, huffing out an annoyed sigh as he left with a playful smile plastered.

her friends giggled at their relationship.

“girl, you and sunghoon need to get together already.” ji-woo chimed with a teasing grin.

y/n’s face morphed into disgust before furiously shaking her head. “are you crazy?? i could never be with someone like him.”

“your dynamic is cute though. a little disgusting, but cute.” min-su added in, shrugging her shoulders afterward.

“puh-lease. he hates me and i hate him, nothing could change that.”

dae’s brows slightly raised. “mhm… okay..,” he murmured.

“look, just because you guys are dating his friends, that doesn’t mean i should date him. he’s too much of an asshole anyway, who would even like him?”

she would. the girl was in complete denial, turning all her confused love into misdirected fuel for competition.

he was a distraction and she made sure she’d always see it that way. he couldn’t possibly differ her from the strong perspective she had of him being the hot, asshole nerd he was.

he was attractive, maybe a little too attractive; but his personality couldn’t agree with that. as her academic rival, he joked and played around with her, enjoying the little reactions he could get out of the cold, heartless girl.

but she couldn’t say she liked the teasings she’d receive from him. she could never admit to it because no matter how appealing he’d may be, he was still competition.

“well we’re not saying you should-“

ji-woo’s words were cut off by the entrance of mr. lee and their widely known friend, jay.

heads were turned and confused faces had morphed in onto each student.

“class, this is park jongseong from mr. yang’s class. he’s transferred to ours so his schedule can fit a few other classes, please welcome him,” he announced to everyone.

y/n’s eyes twinkled with delight at the sight of her friend who was awkwardly waving to his new peers. “hello..,” she heard him beam with a smile.

“you’re welcome to choose whichever empty seat you’d like. i’d suggest sitting next to either of my top two students, y/n,” mr. lee pointed to her, “or sunghoon. both are great choices to choose for catching up with our class.”

given that jay was a friend of both, he remained a little unsure before ultimately deciding to sit next to y/n.

he placed himself on the right side of her, giving sunghoon a clear shot of the two alarmingly close to each other. he let a puff of air slip by his lips as he subtly rolled his eyes.

“could’ve sat next to me but chose to sit next to that loser?” he silently fumed in his seat, forcing his attention away from the two who were conversing.

sunghoon didn’t know why but his heart was burning, aching almost. he’s never felt this way before. seeing how the girl he attempted to hate smile and smack his friend’s shoulders churned his stomach.

his jaw clenched and his ears fell deaf on everything else once he heard his rival call him — “park.”

“park?? park?” he guffawed with a loud, clear scoff in his throat. “she’s calling him park? my nickname she has for me??”

he angrily folded his arms as he tried to keep himself quiet. his mouth continued to spew out a few other words about her existence, along with some curse words added in for jay’s part before being interrupted — “why are you so loud?”

his head whipped to the right, meeting eyes with his friend, heeseung whose head was laying on the desk. “almost everyone can hear you, hoon. you’re showing that you like her a little too much.” the older male teased with a shit eating grin.

sunghoon exhaled a long breath before uttering a quiet — “shut up” to his friend. just then, a little note was thrown onto his desk, catching his attention.

his head cocked to the side in confusion before turning to the direction of where the paper came from.

in seconds, he found ji-woo’s boyfriend, jake, mouthing ‘open it.’

his hands crumbled it open and found the words — ‘are you jealous?’ — written on it.

hoon’s face immediately wore a frown as his brows furrowed back to his friend. in return, jake motioned for him to write back with his hand doing little scribbly lines.

he groaned out a soft sigh before complying to his friends words. ‘jealous about what?’ he wrote, faking his coy state to hide how he felt.

he gave a harsh toss back to jake, allowing the aussie to open it with a ‘pft’ leaving his lips afterward.

‘don’t act stupid, you’re looking sus ඞ’ — written back to sunghoon.

jake tried to throw it back to him but with such a bad angle toss, it ended up landing on jungwon’s desk.

he cocked a brow at the crumbled paper, opening it to find the two different sets of colored words — red from sunghoon and black from jake.

won turned to sunghoon with an eyebrow raise, giving a quick toss back to him, not before adding in his own input of course.

‘hoon’s jealous? about what? y/n? (⚆ ̫ ⚆)’ — colored blue to the tall boy.

sunghoon gave an annoyed grunt after reading his friend’s words. almost a little too harshly, his hands quickened in a pace before throwing it to jungwon once more.

‘i’m not jealous (ง •̀_•́)ง’— he rolled his eyes at his confirmation. “me? jealous?” he quietly scoffed in disbelief.

before he could toss it to jungwon’s desk, a snatch from the right was made to the paper, indicating that heeseung had caught on to their little game.

he crumbled it open, raising his brows and widening his eyes in amusement. sunghoon softly sighed as he watched the older male start writing as well. “great.. heeseung’s in on this now too.” he whispered under his breath.

min-su’s boyfriend finished his thought and gracefully threw it to jake. ‘he’s such a liar, i heard him just minutes ago talking about them (ఠꍓఠ)’ — heeseung wrote in green.

the younger boy silently laughed, widening his bright smile as he scribbled a few words back. ‘hoonie has a crush (ꗞ _ ꗞ)’ — he threw to y/n’s rival.

sunghoon opened the note before rolling his eyes and clenching his already-tense jaw. his hand wrote out his thoughts, pen undeniably denting the paper in frustration.

the passing of the note went around the four for a while, eventually reaching niki and sunoo as well; jay staying mindless to all of it because well, he was still talking to y/n.

the two conversing and turning to one another for a peer talk was the view from sunghoon’s perspective.

soon enough, mr. lee caught on as well, and just with luck on its side, sunghoon was the one to be seen with the passed note.

“one of my star students? really?” the teacher uttered in a slight scoff.

hoon’s head instantly lowered at the obvious disappointment present in his teacher’s tone. he’s never felt this sort of fizzling letdown before and he didn’t know how to take it.

“what? no, i-“ he tried to justify, only to be cut off by mr. lee — “i’m fairly disappointed, sunghoon. i expected more.”

everyone’s eyes were on him and all he could do was have an embarrassing amount of blush on his cheeks.

“you’ll serve detention for disrupting my class after school today. see me then.”

his head lowered even more, avoiding the judgmental stares received from his peers.

a snicker then came from the direction of where his rival was at. a poorly hidden snicker at that.

y/n softly snorted out laughter, hands attempting to cover her mouth but doing it very horribly with the fact that her worst enemy was just embarrassed.

sunghoon shot a glance to her, teary eyes narrowing at the girl before shifting to jay who was trying to quiet her down. there it was again. his heart painfully throbbed at how his friend interacted with her.

“well if you think it’s so funny y/n, you can join sunghoon for detention as well,” mr. lee spat to her.

almost immediately, her eyes widened at his words. “what?? but-“

“can’t wait,” he intruded with a push to his glasses. “would anyone else like to join my two students who i thought were my academic weapons before i return back to this lesson? no? okay, let’s proceed.”

min-su, ji-woo, dae, and the rest of the enhypen members avoided eye contact from the two

y/n fumed in her seat, grumbling out quiet curse words to herself as she rolled her eyes. “he gets in trouble but i somehow get sucked in? pft, asshole.” she mumbled, putting the blame on him even though it was her own fault.

from the back, hoon placed his hand over his mouth to cover himself from sneering a laugh. sure, he hated the fact that he was about to spend more time with the girl he hated (liar), but he felt satisfied that she got in just as much trouble as him. then the thought of having to see her again clouded his head, and it pissed him off once more.

karma really was a bitch.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

hours passed through the school day, and ms. choi was the last and final teacher.

with just a few minutes left, she caught everyone’s attention. ”your tests have finally been graded, so scores will be out soon. please look out for it on the bulletin board when you get the chance.” she said, giving an approval head nod seconds after the bell rang to head over.

students scattered around to the bulletin board, little pushes and shoves were made as most of y/n’s friend group rushed for their score.

“a 95! yes!” screamed ji-woo.

“92! i can live with this,” dae pointed out.

“93! holy shit, i passed!” min-su yelled.

y/n’s eyes widened. “97?? OH MY GOD! i actually passed! all that hard work paid off!” she shouted, jumping up and down in glee.

the academic group cheered together, giving hops in their designated stance all at once. they circled around, still in oblivious glee before y/n had come in contact with sunghoon’s score.

68.

her heart dropped a little for him. she immediately stopped her jumps and examined the paper.

eight rankings.. the boy went down by eight rankings, no longer being her competition for now.

she didn’t know how to feel. for as long as she could remember, they’d been going head to head for first place, and now she’s got the upper hand.

y/n was finally in the lead and for once, sunghoon wasn’t the runner up.

her eyes continuously looked over at his score. she couldn’t even lie, she’d be in distress if her score went low like that.

‘wait- no way i feel bad for him?? i should be happy that i’m finally rank one by myself.’ she thought, scoffing in disbelief with how she almost felt sympathetic for a jerk named sunghoon. but she’d understand him — the disappointed looks from his family, the eating guilt from doing bad, the expectations to never failing again — she knew what it was like.

and it was then that y/n shifted her attention from her friends to across the hall where he was. her heart instantly thumped in pity as she watched his strikingly, attractive face turn sour with every step he took.

the look of disappointment was clear in his facial expression, and she could see it herself. she almost wore a frown when watching him slowly disassociate from his conversation with the enhypen members — something that only she noticed.

the girl watched him excuse himself to leave, then it clicked into her head that she had detention with him.

“aw fuck!” she cursed aloud, catching her friend’s attentions.

“what?” asked ji-woo with a head tilt.

“she has detention with sunghoon,” jake chimed from behind, slinging an arm around his girlfriend.

min-su and dae snickered in laughs before y/n exhausted a groan. “shut up!” she yelled to them.

“have fun,” min-su’s boyfriend, heeseung, teased with a sly smile.

“you know she won’t baby,” his girl intervened, following his smile and mirroring the evil grin he had.

the single girl rolled her eyes after noticing their friends link arms with their significant others.

“it’ll be over soon, y/n. just ignore him!” dae yelled. “i mean you could talk to him but..,”

“babe, does it really look like she wants to talk to him?” jungwon asked, planting a soft peck onto his boyfriend’s cheeks afterwards.

“well i’d rather be in there than seeing all this couple stuff.” y/n refuted, huffing out a breath of air before leaving to detention in defeat.

she left the scene, hearing the remaining words of jay scream out — “i’m staying after school for a bit, so say hi if you see me!”

when she approached the class, she felt her heartbeats in her throat. she softly clenched her chest. ‘what is this feeling? pft, this is stupid,’ the girl thought while entering in.

“y/n, good to see you’ve finally arrived on time. take a seat right there,” mr. lee spoke with another push to his glasses.

a red color picked at her cheeks when she met eyes with her arch rival, sunghoon. being announced that she wasn’t late for once in front of the person she hated was way too humiliating.

but then she remembered that he got a low score and she suddenly felt better.

y/n sat across the room from him, making sure that she’d breathe no same air as him. she gave a soft sigh as she checked her phone.

[ 3:17pm ] — it read.

it’s gonna be a long while.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

about an hour passed, and detention was almost over.

the entire time the two were stuck in there, it remained silent. tension filled the air with every quiet glance they could get, every small glimpse they could steal from each other.

a few minutes later, and mr. lee had finally announced they could leave.

“i sincerely hope that my two star pupils won’t disrupt my class again, have a great rest of your day.” he murmured, lips firmly pressed together to emphasize disappointment.

y/n groaned out a sigh once the teacher had made his exit. “finally gonna go home,” she mumbled under her breath.

a clink from behind was made, indicating that sunghoon was still in the class. she gave a quick stink eye and though he couldn’t see it, she felt stupidly proud of herself.

she exited out before he could, head directly staring down onto her phone, causing her face to meet a very broad chest.

y/n shot her head up, expecting to see a stranger but instead saw a familiar face. “oh jay! you stayed!” she yelled.

his face beamed a bright smile before nudging her head. “yeah i had to for a class, how was it spending time with sunghoon?” his brows raised in amusement, enjoying how frustrated she got.

“shut up, park!” she cackled, sending a smile and a smack to him.

it was then that sunghoon’s feet were glued to the ground at the door frame. he seethed through the gaps of air in his teeth. there it was again; that stupid pounding in his heart.

the nickname ‘park’ was in a different sense of tone that he’s never heard before. a playful, sweet tone that set him off in the wrong way.

“park?” he unbelievably scoffed.

he watched the two interact from afar, hearing how they unintentionally flirted with each other was boiling his blood. jealous? no. can’t be.

“are you about to leave?” he heard jay ask her with his infamous smirk.

“yep, just waiting for my brother.” y/n beamed, showing him a bright smile that should’ve been for hoon.

the tall male rolled his eyes. she’s never that nice to him.

“i could take you home if you want?” jay asked, lips pressing into a line.

sunghoon’s heart dropped, sank even. taking her home? his arch rival? hell no.

he stepped into the scene with a firm jaw clench. arms folding in an irritated way, he spoke — “i’m gonna talk to y/n, no need to take her home.”

he stared down at jay, unintentionally burning holes into the boy who had accidentally got involved. no sense of indulging familiarity spoke in his eyes because all he could do was drag his enemy away with a tight grip on her wrist.

hoon brought her to a more secluded area, ignoring her confused whines to let go. he loosened his grip, letting go just to grasp her in his hands again. they dug into her shoulders as he pushed her back against the wall.

he furrowed his brows before keeping his gaze down, avoiding eye contact. y/n didn’t say anything as she stared at him in confusion.

only heavy breaths from him were heard before he angrily spat — “you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

his teeth gritted, digging his fingers deeper into her shoulders. he didn’t know why he was acting this way. he just couldn’t stand the fact that she was so close to jay after basically spending an entire day together.

y/n’s brows furrowed at his question. “what? what’s wrong with you? i was just talking to jay.”

hoon’s head picked up at her words, finally locking gaze in a softened look she’s never seen before. “does he mean anything to you?” he croaked in a husky voice.

“he’s just a friend. why are you even asking this? you’re not my boyfriend,” the girl scoffed with a slight smile. “you’d like to be though, wouldn’t you?”

“shut up,” he seethed in a stern expression. his softened eyes turned back to a glare. y/n quickly caught onto the pent up frustration in it, hinting that his test score added in on his outburst. “you don’t know how badly i wanted to pull you away from him today, how badly i should’ve shown him that you’re not his.”

sunghoon’s face inched closer to hers, noses delicately coming in contact. she could feel his breath on hers and all she could do was feel physically weak.

“i should’ve huh?” he uttered in a scoff, trailing his gaze from her lips and back to her eyes. “would you have liked that?”

their lips were close to connecting, grazing against each others. she’d pull in but he’d pull away, and when he’d pull in, she’d pull away as well.

✩ ‘i want you to give in, i want you to give in’ ✩

tension raised and so did their body heat. y/n’s hand was firmly pushed on his chest but she didn’t actually push him away, she just liked having the chance to have her hand lay there. she felt her heartbeats get louder within each second, chest heaving at how close he’s been getting.

✩ ‘there is tension between us’ ✩

“this is not like you, sunghoon.” her brows furrowed more. “you can’t be acting like this.”

“i can’t?” he cracked with a shit eating grin. “and why can’t i?”

his head cocked to the side before questioning with his eyes. “isn’t it better for us to act like this than us acting like enemies?” he inched his lips closer once more, letting just heavy breaths be audible to ears.

✩ ‘i just wanna give in’ ✩

y/n’s hands finally pushed against his chest. “control yourself, park. you’re not my boyfriend.” she repeated, face becoming stern.

“control myself?” he laughingly mocked. “you don’t know how much i’ve been doing that in front of you. i’ve been holding myself back this entire time from doing more, and you want me to control myself, now?”

✩ ‘it’s been a secret for the longest time’ ✩

sunghoon’s grip tightened around her shoulders once more, pressing her harder against the wall.

“look at me, pretty girl.” he spoke, letting one of his hands hold onto her chin.

y/n gulped. her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach at the sudden name change. she’s never seen this side of him before. it was new and unfamiliar, and she liked it.

✩ ‘i need you more than i want to’ ✩

hesitantly, she let her eyes fall on him.

he jerkily smiled, enjoying how his academic rival had now fallen under his touch.

“control myself?” sunghoon restated. “fine, i’ll control myself.”

he quickly backed away, grip loosening and letting go. he watched her fall into ease, hands clenching onto her chest to stop her rapid heartbeats.

a sly smirk curled onto his lips as he raised his brows. “see you tomorrow, nerd.” he uttered, walking away soon afterward so he could have the last say.

y/n stayed still in her stance. her sense of touch almost went numb as she tried to process all of what happened.

she suddenly felt her phone buzzing, indicating that her friend group was calling. her brows pinched together before declining the call, and texting that she’d join when she’d get home.

a breath of air left her mouth once she found a text notification from her rival, sunghoon.

park 👎🏼:

Let’s talk soon, pretty girl.

I don’t think I could ever control myself around you.

nothing would ever be the same between the two again.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[wethotcrazy]

SYMPATHY IS A KNIFE

pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 3727

this is loosely based off of sympathy is a knife by charlie xcx, it’s a lot of world building please bear with me i have a vision (-﹏-。) also expect cursing. this is quite a long one (im working on multiple parts), i'll try to post as much as can.

part ii part iii part iv

All children are encouraged to do their best, dream big, and reach for the stars. But let's be honest: how many kids actually achieve that goal? How many adults can say they have been fighting for their place for far longer than they can remember?

Not a lot.

That kind of passion was rare. But perhaps it was more than passion; maybe it was the sick sense of wanting something bigger than yourself. Maybe she was just a workhorse that never learned when to stop. 

Growing up karting was where Yn found a love for motorsports, it was her dad that introduced her to it. A part of her felt for the older man; this had been his dream as much as it was hers. Back then, it had always been just a hobby, even though she had already achieved multiple wins. She never thought it would come this far.

At 16, she was picked up by the Red Bull junior team to race in various junior categories, eventually making it into Formula 3 and then Formula 2. Even then scoring points and race wins came easy. Years of hard work and dedication had done her well, with many saying that a Formula 1 career was surely in the cards for her.

And if she was being honest, Yn was hungry for that Formula 1 seat.

Yn’s laptop lit up with an email, enclosed was her contract with VCARB. She was going into Formula 1.  Was it arrogant to say she had been expecting this? Could you blame her for asserting it wasn’t a matter of if, but when? 

But signing the contract should have felt like a victory, a promise fulfilled, a chance for everything she’d worked toward to pay off. But as the seconds flew by, Yn could already feel the weight settling over her, heavy as a storm cloud. The stakes had never been this high, and the whispers were already there, quietly accusing, scrutinizing. Her entrance into F1 wasn’t just a testament to her skill and ambition; it was a flashpoint, a reason for some to undermine her achievements and question her right to be here.

F1 wasn’t just a men’s world—it was a battleground where “passion” for her felt dangerously close to “obsession,” and her relentless pursuit of victory was both her strength and her vulnerability. Yn knew that she couldn’t just be good; she had to be perfect, ruthless in her pursuit for wins and podiums, and undeterred by every sly remark and skeptic. Sympathy, after all, was nothing but a knife in disguise, and she’d long since learned not to expect it from anyone, even her team.

Her first day at VCARB was a whirlwind of meetings, briefings, and countless faces both excited and skeptical. The engineers studied her, sizing up the girl who was stepping into a seat she’d earned, but one they seemed to question if she could keep. Her jaw tightened with determination—she would prove every one of them wrong, and not out of spite but out of an unyielding hunger to carve her name in F1 history.

Yuki arrived in the afternoon, a familiar face in a sea of unknowns. With an easy grin, he crossed the garage, his demeanor effortlessly lighthearted as he joked with the engineers before catching her eye. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you here so soon,” he teased, a glimmer of pride in his eyes that he knew she’d earned.

She let a small smile slip, and for a moment, the walls she’d erected came down. “Surprised? I thought you’d know better,” she quipped back, crossing her arms.

“Not surprised,” he replied. “Just excited. Maybe I’ll finally have someone here to keep me on my toes.”

But behind their friendly exchange was an edge, a reminder that this was a competition and that teammates or not, they were both vying for survival in the world’s most ruthless racing series. They had both clawed their way here, and no amount of camaraderie could change the fact that every second on the track was a chance to prove they deserved to stay.

Underneath Yuki’s easygoing nature, she knew there was a fierce competitor. She’d seen him race, seen the raw talent that made him as unpredictable as he was quick. Yn knew they’d push each other to the limits, that their friendship would inevitably become a duel of ambition. And she wanted that—it made her hungrier, sharper.

But there was something different about her fight. Being the first female F1 driver in years meant her wins were never just hers; every success and failure became ammunition for those who doubted women in motorsport. There was no room for mistakes, and any slip-up would be amplified, dissected in the press, on social media, even in private conversations she was never meant to hear.

One night, as she stared out at the empty track after hours, she felt Yuki’s presence beside her. “They’re going to be watching everything I do,” she said, voice low, a rare admission of vulnerability.

“They watch all of us,” he replied softly, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I know how hard you’ve worked to get here. And… well, if they think they can beat you down, you’re gonna prove them wrong. Just… stay hungry, yeah?” He nudged her shoulder gently.

“Hungry?” she scoffed, steeling herself. “I’m starving.” 

Yuki chuckled, but it was laced with respect. “Good. Because that’s what it takes.”

The season had started on fire for Yn. Her first four races saw her consistently in the points, an impressive feat for any rookie, let alone one under as much pressure and scrutiny as she was. Headlines praised her talent, with journalists and fans alike marveling at her ability to keep up with more seasoned drivers. Her team, too, seemed to start letting their guard down, seeing her not as a gamble, but as an asset. But as is often the case in Formula 1, the success didn't last forever.

Her fifth race began with promise, but Yn knew almost from the start that something was off. The car felt different, twitchy around the corners, each lap feeling more and more like she was on a knife’s edge. Halfway through, she could feel her grip on the track slipping, but she pushed harder, unwilling to lose ground.

With just a few laps remaining, the inevitable happened.

The crash was swift and brutal. The car spun out in the third sector, her back tires skidding as she lost control. She hit the barriers hard, the sound of carbon fiber breaking echoing through her helmet. Her vision blurred as the world spun, then finally stopped, leaving her breathless in the cockpit, staring at the wreckage around her.

Her engineer’s voice came through her headset immediately. “Yn, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly, trying to steady herself, adrenaline still pumping as she felt the sting of defeat sink in. “I… I’m sorry. I lost it. The car just—slipped.”

There was a pause on the other end, a moment that felt like judgment even through the crackling radio. “We’re glad you’re okay. We’ll get you back to the garage. We’ll review the data,” her engineer replied, his voice careful.

Yuki’s voice came through on her personal channel moments later, after seeing her crash on his onboard. “Yn? You alright?” His tone was laced with concern, stripped of the usual playfulness.

She swallowed, fighting the frustration building in her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… pissed off.”

“You’ll be back next race,” he assured her, but she could only respond with silence. The shame of letting her team, her fans, and herself down weighed heavily on her.

In the post-race interview, Yn struggled to find the right words. The cameras focused on her, the flash of lights overwhelming as journalists fired questions, each one cutting a little deeper.

“Yn, it was a tough day. Do you think the pressure got to you out there?”

She clenched her fists, forcing a composed smile. “I don’t think it’s about pressure. Today just… wasn’t my day. The car was giving me some issues, and I did my best to control it. Sometimes, that’s just racing.”

“But after four races in the points, are you worried this is a sign of things to come?”

The question sliced through her like a knife, and she could feel the weight of the implication: that she was fragile, a fluke who’d just been lucky.

“No, I’m not worried,” she replied, her voice steady but tense. “One race doesn’t define my season. I’m here to compete, and I’ll be back even stronger next race.”

When the interviews ended, she caught Yuki’s eye across the paddock. He gave her a nod, a silent show of support that reminded her she wasn’t alone, even if it felt like she was carrying the world’s judgment on her shoulders.

The news coverage the next day was ruthless. Headlines screamed with exaggerated disappointment: “Yn Cracks Under Pressure?” and “First Female F1 Driver in Years Falters After Promising Start.” A few outlets were kinder, chalking up the crash to typical rookie mistakes and downplaying any concerns over her ability to handle the car. But most took the crash as an invitation to dissect her every move, doubting whether she could handle the demands of the sport.

Social media was ablaze, fans and critics alike chiming in, and Yn could barely stand to look. She knew this was part of the game, that everyone in F1 was under scrutiny, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that for her, the stakes were higher. Every failure she faced felt amplified, a reason for the world to question her right to be here.

Yuki called her that night, his voice calm and soothing against the chaos swirling around her.

“I’m just so pissed,” she admitted finally, her frustration cracking through her voice. “I wanted to prove that I belong here, and now… it feels like all anyone sees is this one mistake.”

“You know that’s not true,” he replied, a hint of warmth in his tone. “Everyone makes mistakes, even the greats. They’ve all crashed at some point. Don’t let them take that fire from you. Because once the season’s over, they’ll see what you’re made of.”

She took a shaky breath, comforted by his words. It was strange—she’d started this journey expecting every teammate to be a rival, another barrier to overcome. But in Yuki, she’d found someone who understood the relentless, hungry drive that fueled her, and who respected it.

The next morning, her team’s engineers ran a debrief, analyzing the telemetry and tire data from the crash. They assured her that she’d made the right call in pushing the car, that the twitchiness wasn’t imagined. Yn felt a flicker of relief; maybe she hadn’t just cracked under pressure, maybe it had been an unfortunate mix of circumstances. But no matter the reason, she knew she had to rise from this stronger than before.

It had been a long race, Jeddah was grueling and relentless, yet Yn had been on the verge of a breakthrough. She was fighting tooth and nail for P8, going wheel-to-wheel with Fernando Alonso in the final laps. She’d been holding her own, each move calculated, each corner taken with the precision she’d been honing for years. This was her shot, her chance to show everyone she wasn’t a fluke or a face in the crowd. She was ready to prove herself.

Then it happened.

They clashed in the final sector, both fighting for space. Fernando took the inside line, edging her out, and she, desperate to hold her position, stayed close, too close. Their wheels touched, and in a flash, her car lost stability, skidding and spinning before colliding with the barrier. The jolt left her breathless, her hands gripping the wheel as the rage took over.

Her engineer’s voice cracked through the radio. “Yn, are you okay? What happened?”

She clenched her jaw, trying to control the fury building up inside her. “That fucking guy, Alonso! He squeezed me—left me no room!” Her voice was shaking, frustration and adrenaline spilling over. “I had that position!”

There was a silence on the radio as they processed her words. “Copy, Yn. We saw the incident. Just stay calm.”

Stay calm? She’d given everything, and now, twice in a row, her race had ended in ruin.

After the race, Yn felt the press of cameras and microphones on her as she trudged toward the media pen. She could barely contain the frustration bubbling inside her, a storm barely held back as reporters closed in, questions already on their tongues.

“Yn, this is the second crash in a row. Are you feeling the pressure of Formula 1?”

“What’s your take on the incident with Alonso? Do you blame him?”

Yn took a steadying breath, but the calm she'd usually conjure wasn't there. “Look,” she said, voice tight, trying to keep her tone steady, “I know what happened out there, and Alonso gave me no space. I was holding my line, fighting for position like we all do. I’ll review the footage with the team, but if people think I can’t handle the pressure—they’re wrong.”

The next question felt even more loaded. “Is it challenging to maintain focus, given the scrutiny you’re under as the first female driver in years?”

She forced a smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not here to be a spectacle; I’m here to race. Everyone’s under pressure in this sport. It’s what makes us competitors. The scrutiny just makes me hungrier.”

Her words were pointed, but she could already feel the twisting of her words forming in the reporters’ minds, their pens scratching away, headlines already buzzing to life in their notebooks.

The news the next morning was merciless. Some articles analyzed her crash with Alonso, calling it a “rookie miscalculation,” while others openly questioned whether Yn’s composure was “cracking” under the scrutiny. The worst were the opinion pieces, suggesting she might be better suited to junior categories if she couldn’t handle the rigors of F1.

Yuki found her in the paddock later that evening, her expression set as she packed up her things, clearly wanting to avoid any more eyes on her. He walked over, hands in his pockets, a gentle smile on his face.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Rough race out there. I saw the footage—Alonso really gave you no room.”

She shot him a look, her expression unreadable. “Thanks, Yuki, but I don’t need anyone to say it wasn’t my fault. I should’ve handled it better.”

“It wasn’t about fault,” he countered softly, unfazed by her edge. “It was a close fight. You held your ground. Besides, you’re doing something none of these people could even dream of.”

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shoving her race gloves into her bag. “Spare me the pep talk. I don’t need anyone’s sympathy. Especially not yours.”

He took a step closer, not backing down. “This isn’t sympathy, Yn. You’re one of the best rookies on the grid. Every one of us has crashed. I know what you’re going through, and I know how much you want this. But maybe don’t let their voices drown out what you already know—you deserve to be here.”

She wanted to tell him to stop, to remind him that it was different for her, that every mistake was fuel for those doubting her existence in this sport. But instead, she looked away, unable to bring herself to speak. She didn’t want to be seen as weak, as someone who needed reassurance.

Yuki sighed, catching the conflicted look in her eyes. “Alright,” he said quietly, his gaze softening. “Just… don’t forget that you’ve got people here who believe in you. No matter what the headlines say.”

She gave him a brief, reluctant nod, her voice a whisper. “Thanks, Yuki. But belief isn’t going to get me P8.” She turned and headed for the exit, leaving him behind as the words hung in the air, heavy with the reminder of just how high the stakes were.

Yuki knew things had changed since those days in the Red Bull junior program. Back then, it was just him and Yn, two kids pushing limits, sharing laughs and late nights studying data, feeling like the world wasn’t so big, like maybe they’d take it on together someday. She’d always been determined, sometimes stubbornly so, but she’d had that spark, that glint in her eye when she talked about F1 like it was the only thing that mattered. But now, standing at the pinnacle they’d dreamed of, Yuki could feel the distance growing between them, a wall she was building with every race, every misstep, every setback. 

He tried to remind her of those lighter times, even when the racing got intense. On weekends, he’d linger in the garage with her, cracking jokes, trying to coax a laugh out of her, like they used to do after tough sessions back in Formula 2. But it felt different now. She had this look, as if there was a weight pressing on her that no amount of lightheartedness could lift. 

The night after her crash with Alonso, Yuki tried again, catching up to her outside the paddock as she was leaving. “Hey!” he called, jogging to catch up. “Thought maybe we could grab a bite together. There’s this place nearby that serves ridiculous ramen—reminds me of the spot we’d hit after races.”

She hesitated, her gaze distant, before letting out a sigh. “Yuki, I’m tired. I just want to go back to the hotel and review the data. It was a messy race, and I don’t think I have much appetite.”

Yuki’s shoulders dropped, but he shrugged, forcing a smile. “We could just hang out, then. No data. Just us. I mean… it’s been a while since we’ve really relaxed, you know?”

She gave him a weary smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I appreciate it, really. But I need to focus. I can’t afford to mess up again, not with everything they’re saying.”

He could hear the bitterness in her voice, the resentment barely hidden beneath. It killed him to see her like this—so hardened, so guarded. She was always the toughest of the rookies, fearless, but now it seemed like her own passion had turned against her, trapping her in a never-ending battle against herself. 

He tried again the next day, lingering by her side during their briefing, sending her a grin every chance he got, trying to bring back that easy dynamic they used to have. But it was like she was somewhere else, somewhere far away where his words couldn’t reach her. She’d nod along, respond, but always with that distracted air, her eyes flicking back to the screen, the telemetry, the data, anything but him.

By the time they were heading out after debrief, Yuki couldn’t hold back anymore. “Yn,” he said, his voice softer, catching her arm as she went to turn away. “I know you’re frustrated, I know it feels like everything’s on the line, but… this isn’t like you. You’re carrying everything on your shoulders alone. Let me be there, like we used to.”

For a moment, her expression softened, a glimpse of the Yn he remembered, the one who used to nudge him in the ribs and joke about who could get pole on the practice track. But it faded just as quickly, replaced by that same stony determination.

“I appreciate it, Yuki. But you don’t understand. It’s different for me.” She pulled her arm back gently, looking away. “Every mistake I make gives people more reasons to think I shouldn’t be here. Every crash, every missed point. Sympathy’s a knife in this sport, and I can’t afford to need anyone’s help. I just… I have to handle it.”

He let her words sink in, feeling the sting behind them, realizing that every race, every session was turning her into someone he barely recognized. But he understood, maybe better than she thought. Yuki knew that in F1, there were those who supported you, but there were also those who’d gladly let you fall, especially if you didn’t fit their mold.

“Maybe it’s different for you,” he said quietly, keeping his voice steady. “But you don’t have to do it alone. We’re teammates. We’re supposed to be here for each other. I’m… I’m supposed to be here for you.”

She looked up at him, and for a second, he thought he’d broken through. But she just shook her head, a faint, sad smile on her lips. “Thanks, Yuki. Really. But I need to be strong enough on my own. If I rely on anyone too much, they’ll use it against me. I have to prove myself, no matter what.”

Yuki watched as she turned away again, shoulders squared, that unyielding resolve back in her posture. He knew there was no convincing her, no getting her to see that it was okay to lean on someone every now and then, that it didn’t make her weak. But as she walked away, he felt the weight of her words settle on him, a sadness mingling with frustration. This wasn’t the Yn he knew—this was someone who felt like she had the world against her, like every race was a fight to justify her existence in F1.

Later that night, Yuki found himself with Pierre, staring at his untouched bowl of ramen, his mind churning. He’d always known Yn was strong, maybe even stronger than him in ways he didn’t fully understand. But it was painful to watch her shoulder that strength like a burden, pushing everyone else away, including him. 

He thought about what he could say next time, some way to convince her that she didn’t have to do this alone, that he wasn’t there out of sympathy, but out of respect and genuine friendship. But deep down, he knew that as long as she felt the world’s expectations pressing down on her, she’d keep her guard up. For now, all he could do was be there, waiting, hoping that one day she’d let him in, let him remind her that even in the ruthless world of F1, there was room for someone who’d stand by her side, win or lose.

[caashmoneynae]

MY MASTERLIST. -> click here for more.

❦

HALFTIME.

JORDAN POOLE x BLACK!FEM!OC

SUMMARY: in which Teja goes to one of Jordan's games and ends up engaging in sexual activity in the locker room. ✨

❦

"𝗜 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧'𝗦 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧, 𝗕𝗔𝗕𝗬!" Teja exclaimed, a smile on her face, as her dark brown eyes sparkled at seeing Jordan make a three-pointer and she clapped her hands loudly, the area she was sitting in erupting in loud cheers while she watched her man and his team travel down the basketball court.

(A/N: pronounced 'TEA•JUH')

"let's go, Poole!" Monaé, Teja's best friend, exclaimed, hyping the man up and boosting his ego, as she and Teja smiled in sync and they watched their team play defense.

the teams were in the second quarter and there were only 5 minutes left on the clock. the Golden State Warriors had 56 points — leveling up from 53 due to Jordan's shot — and their opponent had 53 points, diminishing their tied score and causing both crowds of fans to get antsy since halftime was coming up and they wanted their team to be in the lead.

Teja and Monaé both dressed in Golden State Warriors apparel, but Teja's was more customized because Monaé did it for her. her shirt was long-sleeved and royal blue and on the left side of her chest, it said "Basketball Girlfriend" as "Warriors" sat on her left sleeve. on the back of the shirt, it read "Poole Belongs to Me" and under it read his jersey number as all of the words were spelled in gold letters since royal blue and gold were two of the team's colors.

her brown legs adorned black jeans and her feet held white Air Force 1's as a gold anklet dangled around her left ankle and gold hoops sat in both of her ears, a gold 'T' necklace sitting comfortably around her neck while a gold necklace that read 'Jordan' in cursive sat there as well. her black silk-pressed hair was side-parted and swooped to the right side as a few bobby-pins sat in her head to make sure her swoop stayed in place, her lips glossy with Vaseline and adding a 'pop' to her appearance.

it was clear as day that Teja knew she looked good, and though she preferred silver jewelry over gold, she always made sure to wear some gold to all of Jordan's games.

hearing cheers, Teja's eyes averted to the clock, and she realized that not only was there one minute left before halftime, but the other team had tied with the Warriors for a second time. she looked back at the court and her gaze intensified as she lightly chewed on her bottom lip, the time running down quickly while the Warriors traveled down the court with the ball.

Draymond Green passed the ball to Stephen Curry, and Stephen passed the ball to Gary Payton II, and Gary passed the ball to Jordan, who passed the ball to Andrew Wiggins. it seemed as if the time was only winding down quicker and quicker, and this caused Teja's palms to grow sweaty while her eyes flickered between the clock and the court.

as if on cue with the clock hitting 10 seconds, Andrew began making his way to the basket, swiftly dodging the opponents that tried to stop him while his teammates played excellent defense, as he suddenly jumped up and dunked on the men below him, the ball going through the net with ease and the buzzer sounding out into the lively court while Teja and the other fans began cheering.

"can't wait 'til our boys take home that dub, Mo'!" Teja smiled, the two women standing up from the stands, as Monaé smiled with her and the two began to walk down the staircase behind the other fans.

"girl, who you tellin'? one more win and we goin' to the playoffs, baby! ooh, i can't wait to celebrate!" Monaé smiled, holding onto Teja's hand so they wouldn't be separated by the large crowd, as Teja looked up at the scoreboard and read '58-56', making her smile slightly widen while she looked back at Monaé and the duo made their way to the concession stands.

"oh yeah, we fa'sho' gon' celebrate this win. and then after that... i'ma give my baby his reward, ya feel me?" Teja smirked, playfully raising her brows, as Monaé laughed and shook her head, playfully shoving the woman's shoulder while Teja laughed.

"T, you a trip! but i feel you, girl, no doubt." Monaé smirked as Teja stuck out her tongue and the two did their handshake, their pinkies locking at the end while they giggled.

"ooh, hold up. Mo', hold my purse, i'ma go to the bathroom real quick," Teja announced, taking her phone out of it and putting it in her pocket, "i'll be right back before halftime ends."

"you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Monaé asked, grabbing the purse from the woman's hand and slinging it over her shoulder.

"nah, you good, 'Naé, i'on want you to lose your place in line," Teja assured, looking down and checking the time on her Apple Watch, as she looked up at Monaé and gave her a small smile in reassurance, "make sure to buy me some nachos, mama! you know how i like 'em."

"will do, Mrs. Poole!" Monaé smirked playfully, watching Teja jog away from her, as Teja laughed and shook her head, a wide smile on her face while she made her way to the restrooms.

the farther Teja was from the crowd of fans, the more the loud sounds of them began to turn into low murmurs, and she tucked her phone into the back pocket of her jeans as she made her way to the woman's bathroom. before she could walk into the restroom, however, a large hand grabbed her by the arm and yanked her into a room, making her squeal out of surprise, as she watched the door to the room shut and she saw lockers in the corner of her eye, making her realize she had been yanked into the Golden State Warriors's locker room by no one other than Jordan.

"you know i hate when you do that shit!" Teja exclaimed, punching the man in his arm, as Jordan laughed at her and pressed her up against the door, kissing her lips while he sneakily locked the door.

"you still love me tho', girl," Jordan chuckled, a small smirk on his face, as he eyed her down and ran his tongue over his plump lips at the sight of her attire, "mm, you look good. who you lookin' this good for, baby?"

"nobody but my man," Teja smiled, cupping his face in her hands, as she placed a few pecks on his lips before giggling, "now why you bring me in here? you got 8 minutes left before it's time for you to go back on the court."

Jordan didn't respond to her question. instead, his smirk only widened, and his nonverbal answer immediately clicked in Teja's mind as to why she was pulled into the room so abruptly.

"uh-uh, Jordan, i know you not tryna'..." Teja trailed off, raising a brow, as Jordan chuckled softly and his brown eyes looked into her dark brown ones while lust started to cloud his pupils.

"oh, i'm definitely tryna'..." Jordan smirked, mimicking her past statement, as he let out a low chuckle of mischievousness before kissing her lips, the kiss oozing with passion and causing Teja to procrastinate on kissing him back while his hand latched around her neck and pulled her closer to him.

falling into the temptation rather quickly, Teja kissed Jordan back and she soon melted into the kiss, making his lips curl up into a smirk, as he let go of her neck and tugged at the waistband of her jeans, pulling away from the kiss and trailing wet kisses down her jawline while Teja's breathing turned uneven due to rising arousal.

"you movin' real slow like we ain't got a lot of time in here." Teja breathily mumbled, kicking off her shoes, as Jordan chuckled softly and his hand slipped into her pants before he swiftly removed them and made sure her phone remained unharmed.

"i know what i'm doin', mama," Jordan muttered, his voice slightly deeper due to sexual desire running through his veins, as goosebumps spread across Teja's skin at the tone of his voice and Jordan noticed this, a smirk crossing his lips while he placed a few wet kisses on her neck before tapping her left thigh, "jump."

wrapping her legs around his waist, the two kissed for a final time before Jordan hoisted her up onto his shoulders, carefully lifting her smooth legs onto his muscular biceps while she lightly scooted up on the smooth wooden door so her hips would be level with his face.

it was definitely safe to say that this wasn't their first rodeo.

"pull these to the side for me, princess." Jordan spoke lowly, his eyes flickering up to her, as Teja bit down on her bottom lip and gripped the right side of her panties, pulling them to the side and revealing her soaked sex while Jordan licked his lips at the sight.

not wasting any of the short time they had left, Jordan immediately dug in, his pink lips wrapping around her swollen bud while he gently sucked at it like he was a baby and her clitoris was his pacifier. moaning softly, Teja gently laid her head against the door as she ran her fingers over Jordan's head, her brows slightly furrowing while his hands squeezed her thick brown thighs.

"sh-shit, Jordan," Teja moaned airily, her brows slightly furrowing, as she felt his tongue slither and wiggle inside her folds and her hips lightly jolted against his face, "mmh, eat this pussy, Daddy... eat your pussy just like that, baby."

"like that, mama? hm?" Jordan hummed against her, sending vibrations through her core and up her spine, as Teja shakily whimpered and her back slightly arched off of the door, her grip on her underwear tightening while she rubbed the nape of her boyfriend's neck.

"yessss— o-oh, shit!" Teja gasped, feeling his middle and ring fingers slide inside her walls, as her palm gently smacked the door she was pinned up against and her eyes rolled back, feeling soft kisses be littered around both of her inner thighs while her juices began to drip down Jordan's hand.

moans, whimpers, and whines fell from Teja's two-toned lips and sounds of her gushiness aired out into the room as her eyes fluttered closed and her hand moved from the nape of his neck to his hand on her right thigh, gently squeezing it while she shakily exhaled. Jordan's fingers thrusted inside of the woman at a slow and semi-deep pace and he laid kisses around her vagina, occasionally laying some on her clit and causing her hips to jolt.

suddenly, Jordan's fingers curved, and Teja's whole body jolted as tingles almost immediately dispersed through her body, her grip on Jordan's hand tightening while she gasped loudly.

"oh, fuck, t-that's my spot!" Teja cried, feeling Jordan's hand slither underneath her shirt, as he pulled one of her breasts out of her bra and kneaded it in his palm, his index and middle fingers fiddling with and tugging at her sensitive nipple and earning feeble whimpers from her parted lips.

"right there? huh, pretty?" Jordan cooed, his eyes staring up at her with a combination of lust and mischief, as Teja vigorously nodded her head and her eyes rolled back, "ooh, you 'bout to cum, ain't you, baby? i feel that pretty pussy clenching, mama, you 'bout to wet my face up?"

Teja felt the pace of his fingers start to pick up and each thrust had him poking at her g-spot as her stomach muscles tightened and she let go of Jordan's hand, her hand sliding underneath her shirt and gripping her second breast out of intense pleasure while she practically gripped the life out of her underwear. her thighs began to tremble and her lips rested agape as Teja suddenly gasped and her stomach caved in, her body jolting and her brows furrowing while her legs locked on the man's shoulders.

"y-yes! oh, yes, yes, yes— fuck, baby, i-i'm cummin'!" Teja whined loudly, her hips grinding against his fingers, as Jordan laid his tongue out flatly and caught her nectar atop his pink muscle, causing a shiver to go down Teja's spine while she rode out her orgasm.

"there you go, beautiful. ride that nut out." Jordan cooed, a small smirk on his face, as he licked his lips and gently pulled his fingers out of her erogenous walls, slipping them in his mouth while he sucked her juices off of them and looked up at her.

sighing softly, Teja raised her head from the door and looked down at Jordan, noticing the smirk on his face instantly, as she let out a soft laugh and shook her head, removing both of their hands from underneath her shirt while she put her breast back into its cup.

"we ain't never doin' this again." Teja chuckled softly, letting go of her underwear, as Jordan chuckled and lowered her legs back down to his waist, her legs loosely locking around his hips while he kissed her lips.

"You know damn well this shit gon' happen again, T."

[lathalea]

Entangled 3/10

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Dwarf OFC (The Hobbit) Rating: G (subject to change) Warnings: ANGST Summary: Arranged marriages are common among the dwarven nobility. After reclaiming the Lonely Mountain, the Kingdom Under the Mountain needs to be rebuilt. Thorin agrees to marry a lady from the Blue Mountains, securing a mutually beneficial alliance with the Broadbeam Dwarves. Lady Mista is said to be a practical and hard-working dwarf-woman, willing to give him an heir who would secure the line of succession. A decent queen material, his advisors say. If only Thorin could let go of his past… You can find this fic on AO3 (search for lathalea). ✨ Chapter list: Chapter 1 (Prologue) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3... ✨ Entangled Masterlist

Khuzdul:

Azsâlul'abad - the Lonely Mountain (both the mountain and the dwarven kingdom known among Elves and Men as Erebor)

Tumunzahar - Nogrod (my headcanon for this story is that the dwarven city of old had been rebuilt and populated by the Broadbeams)

‘Urdêk - local name of ‘the Lonely Mountain’ (referring to the dwarven Halls within the mountain), used by its inhabitants

Zabdûna undu ‘Urd - Queen Under the Mountain

‘Urd - local name for Lonely Mountain (referring to the Mountain itself)

Later that night

Mista sighed, finally freed from the weight of her crown and royal garments by Katla, her new maid. The girl knew her duties well and quickly helped her change into her sleeping gown. As soon as Katla curtsied and left the bed-chamber through a gilded door, wishing her queen a “fruitful night”, Mista – who did not feel like a queen at all at that moment – poured herself a glass of water. Her throat was parched, and her whole body felt stiff. She glanced at the other door in her chamber; the dark walnut door that led to the King’s chambers, but it was still closed, and no sounds seemed to come from the other side. Apparently, she still had some time for herself.

Mista took off her glasses and squinted, looking into the mirror in an opulent golden frame. This sumptuous object hung on the wall in her new chambers in the royal wing of the dwarven kingdom of Azsâlul'abad. The reflected image was blurry, and so she squinted harder, stretching her neck forward. Finally, she made out a dwarf-woman, plain and far from being a beauty, her mousy hair unbraided — except for her marriage braid – and still adorned with scores of diamonds. Diamonds are the bride’s best friends, an old saying claimed. Yes, she was a bride and she was wearing a luxurious, crispy white sleeping gown. Why? Because, by a turn of fate, on this very day she fulfilled her dearest, her most secret wish: today she wedded the only Dwarf she loved. 

Mista became Thorin Oakenshield’s wife – and the Queen Consort of Azsâlul'abad.

And now she was waiting for her lord husband to fulfil his marital duties.

A knock on the door — the dark walnut door — jolted her from her reverie.

“Come…” She cleared her throat and tried again, hoping her voice did not tremble too much, “Come in.” 

She had barely enough time to stand up and straighten the silks of her sleeping gown. It was hard not to notice that her fingers were trembling more than her voice.

The King Under the Mountain, Thorin II Oakenshield, entered the room. Gone were his crown and his opulent wedding attire; he wore plain bedclothes, but his dark, wavy hair streaked with silver was braided only with his marriage braid, exactly like hers, just as the tradition dictated. She couldn’t stop herself from admiring his strong shoulders, his lush beard pleated into two thick braids, and his regal profile. Years passed since their first meeting in Tumunzahar, and yet her heart fluttered as if she were that girl hiding behind a statue again. “Good evening, My Lady.” He stopped by the fireplace, slowly taking in the room. Surprised, Mista could not help but notice the tension in his movements. Surely, he could not be nervous, was he? Not him, not now, away from the prying eyes. He was the fearless hero of Azanulbizar, after all, and she was only a bookish, unremarkable girl. It simply could not be. “Good evening, My Lord,” she replied and stole an apprehensive glance at the four-poster bed beside her. “Are your chambers to your satisfaction, My Lady?” Her newly wedded husband asked, putting his arms behind his back and taking in the room as if he was seeing it for the first time. Was he? Impossible, Mista scolded herself. Princess Dis informed her that he hadoverseen the renovations himself to ensure they offered the utmost comfort to his new wife.

Mista cleared her throat and took a deep breath.

“Indeed, they are, My Lord. I am very grateful. These rooms have exceeded my expectations by far,” she admitted truthfully. She was used to the comfort and splendour of Tumunzahar, but Azsâlul'abad’s opulence was unmatched.

“I am glad to hear it. If you  are ever in need of any one thing, please do not hesitate to ask for it. As the royal consort, Lady Mista, you shall receive only what is best in my kingdom.” He spoke in a steady tone, his low voice slightly hoarser than before.

“Thank you, My Lord, for your generosity,” she lowered her head, wondering whether he was just as uneasy as she was. He thanked her with a nod and observed her silently for a few moments. Mista knew very well how she must look in his eyes and swallowed in embarrassment. Her figure was not what they call “statuesque”, her bosom was too small to be considered enticing, and so, if anyone asked Mista, the low cut bodice was a waste of the tailor’s skill. Besides, she was a bit on the stocky side, and not in that feminine way that was so highly admired among dwarves. As her mother had pertinently put it, “curvaceous” was not the word that described Mista’s figure. Apparently, she resembled a stone slab the most. Crude, angular, and plain. To put it simply, she knew well that she was not the most graceful nor alluring woman in the dwarven kingdom of Azsâlul'abad. Therefore, she felt a bit of relief at the fact that her new lord husband’s gaze did not stray below her neck.

“Let us sit down for now.” He pointed at the two armchairs standing nearby, “and talk.”

Mista hid her confusion at this statement, and joined him quickly by the fireplace. Talking meant that the moment she both dreaded and hoped for would be delayed.

After a few moments of silence, the King finally spoke, his voice solemn, “We have found ourselves in quite unusual circumstances, My Lady. We have been joined in the eyes of Mahal and our people, and are expected to consummate our union. I believe, however, that the best course of action would be for us to wait until we… are better acquainted with each other.”

“Oh, I see…” she replied, taken aback. Something stung in Mista's chest. Was she that unalluring to him? She mustered all her strength to appear unmoved and quickly added, “That is very… thoughtful of you.” “I gathered that you may not feel too comfortable,” his throat bobbed as he looked away, “sharing your bed with someone you have only met for the first time yesterday.”

A surprised, nervous chuckle escaped her, but she stifled it quickly, “Are you jesting, My Lord?” “I am not certain I take your meaning.” He frowned. “We met for the first time in Tumunzahar, at the feast in honour of your family’s arrival to our city,” she explained, cheerily at first, and then — not so much as the signs of puzzlement became more pronounced on his face. The King, her newlywed husband, knitted his eyebrows together. A ball of ice began to grow in her stomach. 

Mista added, her voice barely audible, “And you… you asked me to dance.” “Did I, My Lady?” he tilted his head slightly and looked above her head, perhaps attempting to recall the event. “That must have been… eighty years ago?”

“One hundred and three,” she interjected quickly and then felt her cheeks burn instantly. “I wore a blue gown adorned with sweetwater pearls and you asked me about them. We discussed pearling; I believe you wanted to try it yourself in order to find a pearl for your sister.”

Recounting those long-gone events she treasured in her memory for so many years, she saw an absent expression on his face and the enthusiasm in her voice slowly died off. Mista had hoped that the King, Thorin, would easily recall how he laughed at her silly dragon story or the moment when he showed her how to make a raven out of her dance card to her mother’s utter bafflement. Sadly, the handsome features of his face said the opposite.

“My apologies, My Lady,” he replied, shaking his head slowly. “I am ashamed to say it, but I must admit that I cannot recall that particular event. It seems that too many years have passed since then.” Silence fell after his words and she lowered her gaze, clasping her hands on her lap to prevent them from shaking. Suddenly, in her well-warmed-up room, she felt cold.

“Forgive me, I seem to have forgotten my manners,” Thorin Oakenshield stood up swiftly and made a small bow. “I did not mean to imply that your age…” “No offence taken,” she swallowed the lump in her throat as he sat back down. “We are not younglings any more. You were correct, My Lord. That feast happened long ago. Anyone could have forgotten.”

Anyone. But not Mista. She kept on cherishing the memory of that meeting, and when she first heard about the offer of marriage, she could not believe her ears. She thought that perhaps Thorin Oakenshield remembered her fondly for all these years and… nevermind. It was clear that she was mistaken. He did not recall Mista at all. Why would he? She was simply one of the many uninteresting maidens he had danced with. Plain and easy to forget. So unlike her stunningly beautiful sister Adla who never learned the bitter taste of rejection; whose husband waited impatiently for their wedding night – and with whom Adla now had three sturdy sons.

Thorin Oakenshield drummed his fingers on the armrest of the chair but remained silent. Mista stared at the elaborate pattern of the carpet under her feet. Somewhere deep in the bowels of the mountain the mine bell struck for the third time since midnight when the King poured wine into two goblets that stood on the nearby table. Only then did he finally speak. “As you know very well, My Lady, this… marriage,” he said that last word with a hint of uncharacteristic hesitation, “was to serve several purposes. Did your father inform you about all the clauses of the contract before sending the proposal to me?”

Her eyes widened. 

“Before…? I do not understand. Were you not the one to offer the alliance between our houses, My Lord?” Thorin II, the King Under the Mountain, frowned, “The offer came from your father.” “Oh… I see,” her throat tightened. Her eyes pricked. “Were you not aware of this?” The King’s eyes searched Mista’s face. “Father spared me the details,” she admitted, trying to ignore the dull ache deep inside her that seemed to come in waves. It was not the first time Lord Tair, her father, did something of this sort, but she promised herself it would be the last time. The Lonely Mountain and the kingdom beneath it was beyond his reach. 

“I have been informed of the cornerstones of the deal: you give the Broadbeams of Tumunzahar the trade licences and I…” Mista swallowed. “I give you heirs.”

Somehow, she managed to keep her tone of voice casual. Her voice did not tremble this time. What a relief. Perhaps she was not as alluring as Adla, perhaps her husband — unlike Adla’s — was set on delaying the consummation of their marriage, but at least she kept her dignity intact. She would only need to hold in the tears until she was alone again. 

“That is indeed a very straightforward approach,” the King offered with a nod. “I understand that this must sound to you like a soulless contract, but rest assured that I aim to follow all the clauses of the agreement. And as the Queen Under the Mountain, Zabdûna undu ‘Urd you will be treated with the utmost respect due to the royal consort.” “Of course, My Lord, I did not expect anything less of you,” she uttered. He had been a true gentledwarf when they had met for the first time, after all. One hundred and three years ago. “Your reputation is that of an honourable Dwarf. That is why I agreed to this marriage.”

“Then I will strive to maintain it. May I reciprocate by saying that although I do not yet know you well as a person, your conduct gives you great credit. I admired how composed you were during the ceremony, but perhaps that is not a surprise, knowing that you come from such an ancient and noble house. And I have heard of your admirable work in the Blue Mountains. All those traits are exactly what the kingdom of ‘Urdêk needs from its Queen,” the King gave her a small smile.

“I am happy to hear it, My Lord,” she whispered, looking at her hands on her lap. Your admirable work. Warmth spread in her chest. “May I ask what ‘‘Urdêk’ means? I don’t think I am familiar with this word.”

“Forgive me, this is how we call this kingdom – our home within the Mountain,” he offered. “We do not often use it when talking with outsiders. But now, you are one of us, My Lady.”

Mista’s throat tightened, but she was somehow able to utter a handful of words. “Thank you, My Lord.”

“The task before us both,” the King continued, unaware of the sudden wave of emotions that washed over her, “is to serve the Kingdom Under the Mountain to the best of our ability. Our people will rely both on you and me now.”

Our people. You and me. Those words rang in Mista’s ears like the loudest mine bells after a discovery of a new gold deposit would.

“I will strive to learn my duties as fast as I can and help you with your work, my king,” she replied, feeling his gaze on her face, but unable to meet it.

“Perfect. Time is of the essence, so Lord Balin has taken the liberty to find a capable secretary for you. She will introduce you to the way things are run here. And if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask him. You can trust him – he taught me most of what I know about ruling this kingdom. He will be more than happy to offer his advice to you as well. There is a lot of work ahead of us; my wish is to make the Mountain fully habitable to our people as soon as possible.”

“You can count on me, My Lord,” she replied enthusiastically. “The people of ‘Urdêk, the Longbeards, the Broadbeams, and everyone else — our people — are returning and they deserve to find new homes here.”

“It brings me great joy to hear you say it, My Lady Mista,” the King took a goblet in his hand and raised it, as if to toast her, before taking a sip. “Once again the proverbial generosity of the Broadbeams turns out to be worth its weight in gold.”

“As you know, I have never visited Azsâlul'abad before, but I have heard many tales of its greatness of old. What I have seen so far only confirms these tales — and I wish to help return the Lonely Mountain to its former glory if I can.”

She looked timidly at the King from under her eyelashes and saw a flicker in his eyes as he peered at her.

“And I will do what I can for you to feel at home here, My Lady,” he gestured at their surroundings. “This kingdom is now yours as well.”

“You are very kind, My Lord,” Mista bowed her head reverently.

For a moment, they sat in silence. 

“Well, this was a productive conversation, My Lady,” he clapped his hand against his muscular thigh and then rose from his chair. “I will not impose myself upon you any further. You must be exhausted after today’s ceremonies. Allow me to bid you good night,” King Thorin, her husband, made a hasty bow and returned to his chambers.

The sound of the closing door echoed dully in the silence of her bedchamber.

For a long while, Mista stared blankly at the dark wooden surface behind which her newly wed husband disappeared, without even once addressing her as “wife”. She was barely aware of the tears that fell from her face onto the soft fabric of her nightgown. Even this elegant piece of clothing was not enough to make her alluring in the eyes of the King. If she only were as enticing as Adla…

It was Mista’s wedding night and she felt like the greatest fool in the world.

✨ Chapter 1 (Prologue) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3... ✨ Entangled Masterlist 💙💙💙 Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it! 💙💙💙

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