#okay uhm character tag time

[dearestsilhouette]

Silly burner rp images I did with my friendo!!

[piplupod]

ohhh brain static and haze how i love you

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Princess | Intro/ Part 01

There's more to it than what meets the eye.

Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues, mentions of depression

Length: 6.5k Words

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook hates loosing.

And that’s especially true when it comes to bets- because he also can’t really pass up any opportunity to show off and be the best at something. So when he took on the bet with Jimin, he didn’t think anything of it- after all, even if he lost, he could still simply teach that so-called ‘puppy’ Jimin was supposed to be working with a killer choreo and make his way on top either way.

What Jimin failed to tell him, however, was that you are an absolute menace.

Not only are you spoiled to high heavens and dressed head to toe in pretty designer pieces designed and tailored just for you, no- your attitude is making him want to throw himself into a busy road to be run over by any moving vehicle willing to do so. It’s been not even thirty minutes he’s spent in the meeting room, and he already regrets his big mouth with Jimin.

But maybe it’s just a bad first impression. Maybe, you’re just having a bad day.

“So, basically, we’ve got four weeks to make it work.” Your manager says, having finished his plan as he stands at the end of the table everyone is sitting at, you included- though you clearly do not listen to the conversations happening at all, instead occupied with a game on your switch console, decorated in plastic gemstones and cute stickers, sound not even all the way down as to not interrupt anyone.

Jungkook feels his blood boiling. Can’t you at least attempt to listen? After all, it’s your career that’s on the line.

“I’ll need the possible song choices she made, and I also gotta get a copy of the guidelines and what the judges generally look for. Doesn’t have to be today, but I’d like to have it before we start making anything up.” Jungkook offers, arms crossed. You’ve not even looked at him once today.

If he just went by looks, you’d actually be quite cute- you're clearly taking good care of yourself, and you fall right into the category of hybrid girl he’d see himself interested in- but your character seems to be the exact opposite, as you stare down at the small screen in your hands, lashes long, hiding your gaze a little from him.

“We can totally do that.” Your manager says. “I- uhm.. Are you okay with that too?” He asks towards you, and you simply take in a deep breath before you sigh, shoulders shrugging and head somewhat nodding. Your eyes however never break away from your game, instead, you just adjust your seating postition a little before you become completely detached from the situation again. “I’m sorry about that. She’s.. Having a bad day.” Your manager justifies.

Jungkook smells the lie right away.

“Practice will start at 7 AM then-” Jungkook starts, and that seems to catch your attention as your face turns into a frown. “-And we’ll practice the whole week, except weekends.”

“That’s too early.” You mumble, grumbling down at your game while your legs stretch out under the table, feet brushing against his shins. You’re not wearing shoes, only your knee-high socks, having discarded the slip on’s early on for no apparent reason other than comfort.

“She usually sleeps until.. 11 so..” Your manager starts, and Jungkook has to swallow a growl.

“8.” He says sternly, staring at you who scoffs down at your hands. “She’ll have to get up earlier then.” He decides, making you lift your chin a little, before you save your game, turn off the console and put it on the table, your arms now crossed as well as you finally, for the first time, look at him.

The fire in your eyes could seriously burn someone if it was to be manifested into a real flame, he decides.

“You’ll have to wait until I show up then.” You answer him, and his eyes narrow, feeling challenged. But before he can respond, your manager seems to sense the growing tension between you two, as he dissolves the meeting quickly to have you driven back home.

Jungkook however, can’t let go this easily.

“You forgot to tell me that she’s an absolute bitch.” Jungkook growls into his phone, sitting on his couch with the TV on but on mute. “There’s no way I’ll be working with her for four weeks without committing a crime.” He threatens, and Jimin has the audacity to laugh.

“Oh Jungkookie, don’t let her fool you!” He laughs. “She’s a literal angel, believe me. She just acts all tough.”

“Or she was just interested in you.” Jungkook denies. “I’ve spent barely an hour with her and I already know She’s gonna be a handful to manage.” He sighs.

“Come on now, she’s what? Half your size?” Jimin playfully exaggerates. “Just put her in timeout, big guy, and you’ll be fine.” He jokes, very much aware of Jungkook’s rather dominant nature due to his wolfblood. And while the joke is funny, it’s also a problem.

Jungkook doesn’t know if he can really stay calm while working with you. And his career could be over in a second if he so much as lashes out at you verbally- because no way would someone work with a hybrid choreograph or dancer who can’t keep his cool. He already has issues getting some gigs due to his wolfblood mixed in- one mistake and he can surely put his career to rest.

He really regrets taking on this bet now.

Hopefully this won’t end too badly.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You really do not turn up at 8 like he told you to.

He’s impatiently waiting in the practice room, your manager and stylist and other staff already present- everyone trying to get a hold of you with no luck at all. It’s only until an hour later that another staff member informs everyone that you’ve finally woken up, and that you’re currently on your way to the practice room.

Jungkook is pissed, to say the least.

If you work like this the entire four weeks, there’s no way he can manage to push a good choreography into your head that you can pull off properly on stage. And if you fail, it’ll be on him- and he just can’t accept that. Hopefully, you’ll warm up to the idea of actually putting effort into this.

Hopefully.

When you finally turn up, you don’t appear to be sorry at all- still somewhat asleep and in no way ready to start practicing anytime soon. Instead, you sit down and take out your breakfast to eat, while your stylist runs a brush through your hair. But what’s odd about this, is more or less that Jungkook can sense a total shift in energy right now.

It’s like they’re shielding you, giving him no access to you until they deem the timing alright.

And you just robotically eat your little breakfast, while everyone else scatters around you, rushing from spot to spot. Jungkook isn’t too sure what exactly might be happening- but then again, it’s also not unusual to see such a scene. You’re a showhybrid after all- meant to look pretty at all times and in every living moment just in case there’s a camera around. And he knows that the practice is going to be filmed occasionally for some behind the scenes content for your fanbase- which is why you have your stylist around in the first place. You’re just supposed to look like you’re not wearing any makeup at all.

No one wants to see reality, because reality is what everyone can witness if they look in the mirror. And that’s boring. That’s not entertaining. That’s not something to be jealous of, or something to admire.

In a way, Jungkook starts to feel a bit sorry for you. Do you ever have a moment for yourself?

Either way, the moment the cameras start running, you switch character almost instantly. Suddenly you’re polite, soft spoken and determined to get every step right- though your true nature does poke it’s head through on occasion, especially when you can’t get something quite right the first or second try.

“Maybe we need to work on how to keep to the beat first.” Jungkook suggests, and at that, you seem to break, sighing with an agitated groan as your tail unravels, falling limp behind you. He’s not seen this happen often- his best friend Yoongi being a dog-hybrid with a curled tail as well, who can be quite grumpy most of the time. But even he never has his tail this.. Lifeless.

It’s unnerving to see.

“I’m not lobotomized, mutt.” You groan, making the manager motion to cut the cameras for a second. “I can keep to a beat, you’re just shit at teaching.” You growl to yourself, sitting down stubbornly as you visibly try and mask the fact that you’re out of breath.

Truth be told, Jungkook isn’t technically a choreographer. He usually works with professional dancers or simply follows whatever he’s given by an artist themselves- so yes, he might actually be a little rusty when it comes to teaching others.

Do you have to be so rude about it though? No.

“Well we’re going around in circles like this.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I’ll get us something to drink. Try and calm down a bit..” He attempts to soothe your temper, as he leaves the practice room- mostly so that he himself can escape the situation for a moment.

He’s not sure what it is. Maybe your scent full of anger and fear filling the space so much that it feels like it’s drowning him in the room, or the fact that you always have to be so rude-

Wait.

Fear?

Alarmed by that, Jungkook walks a bit faster with the water bottles in hand to get back into the room- just to find you not there anymore, everyone looking at him as if they’re surprised to see him back already. “Where is she?” Jungkook asks, and your manager blinks a little, caught off guard.

“She went to get something to drink.” He states, making Jungkook frown.

“I said I’m gonna get us some. Why did she go by herself?” Jungkook asks. “She doesn’t even know where the vending machines are.”

“She said you were taking too long.” A stylist mentions. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I was gone for not even five minutes?” He growls to himself, before he hears you enter the room again, a small juicebox in hand that you punch the tiny straw into. “Don’t just run off.” He scolds you.

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah alright, Daddy.” You scoff, walking past him to sit in a corner- actually facing it for some reason, your back turned towards everyone else.

“Ah, don’t be alarmed.” Your manager explains. “She.. Sometimes does this. We don’t know either why, and we don’t really question it either. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be right back to practice.” He beams at him, and Jungkook feels weirdly played.

Something’s odd here.

But it’s also none of his business.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

The next day, you’re not there on time again.

And despite the fact that Jungkook had told you no food in the practice room was allowed, you clearly disregarded that as nothing but background noise, while you take out your bag of foods in the middle of the large room.

“I said no food in the practice room.” Jungkook scolds, walking towards you to stand right in front of you, arms crossed. “and you’re also late again. Two hours to be exact.”

“You said no food.” You shrug, lifting up the small bag of puffed rice crisps. “That’s snacks.” You respond, making him narrow his eyes and clench his jaw.

“put it to the side.” He says. “You’re here to practice, not to eat.” He reminds you, able to talk freely with almost none of your staff around today.

“can’t practice on an empty stomach.” You respond however, letting yourself fall into your bag, before you take out your phone to scroll on it while you eat your snacks- crumbs already littering the floor. “Why’s your wifi so shit in here?” You mumble to yourself, when suddenly, the signal stops entirely. “Hey, your internet cut off-“ you start, before you spot him putting his phone down. “Turn it back on-“

“Since you’re acting like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” He simply says. “wifi stays off until you practiced.” He scolds, boldly taking both your snacks and your phone from you to put it on a table close by, the act alone catching you so off guard that it has you frozen in place while you process it. “Do you want to get up yourself or do I need to help you with that as well?” He asks, and you glare at him.

“Touch me and I’ll sue you.” You threaten, and he watches you for a moment as if to see if you’re serious- before he decides you’re clearly not, with the way your tail slightly twitches, clearly needing to be consciously held down by yourself to not wag.

“Alright that’s it.” He simply tells you before he walks towards you, and much to his dismay, you let yourself fall limply down onto the ground as if you’re trying to become liquid. “You’re being ridiculous right now-“

“let me have the wifi again!” You just huff. “and my snacks. I’m hungry.” You argue.

“get up earlier tomorrow and have breakfast then.” He shakes his head, before he grabs your wrists to lift you into a sitting position. But the moment he lets go, you’ve flopped back down again, lips twitching.

Now your tail is wagging, clearly.

“so that’s what you’re after, huh?” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “too bad. I’m not playing your game.” He says, before he walks to the side where all his stuff is, changing his shoes.

“wait- What’re you doing?” You ask, watching him tie his sneakers.

“going home.” He answers without looking. “were clearly not getting anywhere.”

You sigh, groaning out lout before you angrily hit the floor-

Getting up to walk towards him, pulling his jacket from his hands before you let it fall onto the table. “I wanna practice.” You pout.

“What a bummer, princess.” He answers, taking his jacket back to slip it on. “I don’t. Now get your stuff, and then-“ He tells you, walking closer before he points to the door behind you. “-get out.” He demands.

And you just angrily huff at yourself, doing just that.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You fail to get to practice on time again the day after.

And the day after that.

But on friday, Jungkook has finally had enough of your poor excuses and frankly stupid behavior.

"Why is she late this time?" Jungkook asks your staff, jaw clenched as he's already frustrated again. You're clearly not taking this seriously, and he honestly doesn't know how anyone else has ever managed to work with you in any way.

"We're.. not sure." Your manager says, face showing his own shame about your behavior. "She turned her phone off, we can't reach her."

That's it.

Jungkook can understand a lot of things. You're used to being spoiled and having everything set in front of you on a silver platter- he gets that. Sometimes, people's minds can be poisoned by wealth and success. But turning off your phone? That's too far.

What if something actually happened? What if you're sick, in need of help, in danger? This is absolutely ridiculous behaviour, and he does not care anymore. "She said she lives in the city here, right?" Jungkook asks, and the manager nods. "Alright, where exactly?" He wonders, and a stylist of yours calls out your address.

And that sets him off even further- because you barely live ten minutes away from him. Which means there's not even a single reason as to why you would be late at all.

"What are you going to do?" Your manager worries as Jungkook changes his shoes and slips on his jacket, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle.

"I'm getting her myself."

If there’s one thing Jungkook hates, then it’s people isolating themselves just for their own convenience. It’s mainly due to his best friend years back doing that constantly- turning off his phone to get some quiet time for himself, until he actually did end up being in trouble.

And when someone tried to call him, and couldn’t get a hold of him, they just thought ‘It’s probably one of those days again.’

If Jungkook didn’t go against his better judgement, if he didn’t end up checking up on him despite his mind telling him that it was for nothing, Yoongi would not be alive today.

He rings your doorbell multiple times, annoyingly so to get you to stand up at some point. There’s no way you can sleep through that, especially when he starts angrily knocking onto your door. Suddenly, you open it, staring at him with eyes barely open. “What.” You ask, and Jungkook takes a look at you for a second.

You’ve clearly been asleep, but you don’t look rested at all- eyes barely open as you glare at him, and funnily enough, one of your ears is even a bit floppy- not quite entirely down, but also no standing as straight as it usually does. “You’re late.” Jungkook scolds. You attempt to close the door again, making him attempt something dangerous.

He puts his hand in between the door.

But, maybe Jimin wasn’t so wrong after all, because you immediately open the door again, now wide awake as you look at his hand, worried you might’ve hurt him. Only when you don’t find anything you push his palm back towards him, and cross you arms.

“Come on.” He says, nodding towards the hallway behind him.

“No.” You deny.

“What do you mean, no?’ he asks, agitated.

“I said no. I don’t wanna.” You answer, walking back into your apartment- and with your door left open, he takes it as an invitation to walk inside.

The second he closes the door and turns around, he’s in shock.

Cardboard boxes, trash bags, crumpled papers and wrappings all over the place. Shoes litter the entrance area, your coats are thrown over the chairs at your open kitchen which sink is filled with unwashed dishes. The windows are shut, curtains heavy as they hide the mess in your home from the outside world. It’s so dark that Jungkook feels like if he wasn’t a hybrid, he most likely wouldn’t be able to see where he’s stepping at all.

How long have you been living like this?

The apartment isn’t big, there doesn’t seem to be many rooms at all. After searching for a bit he finds you curled up in your large bed, pink bedsheets and blankets halfway on the floor while your little gaming console chimes and beeps while you play.

“..come on now, you’ve.. got the weekend off.” Jungkook says. “it’s just today-“

“I said I don’t want to.” You growl, face focused on your game. “now fuck off and leave me.”

Jungkook sighs. This really isn’t any of his business.

But somehow, as he walks back into the main area of the small apartment, he finds himself opening a new trashbag to throw away all the plastic strewn around. He puts your shoes in order, places the garbage bags in a corner to have them out the way, before he rips the cardboard apart to throw away easier later. He’s not sure why he’s doing that- maybe partially to annoy you and get you to get out of bed, or maybe because he pities you.

This isn’t just laziness. From the way you act, to the body language you scream out quietly, to the fact that you don’t seem motivated for anything at all.

This is something deeper.

“What’re you doing?” You growl from a corner, before you walk closer to rip the cardboard box from his hands, throwing it in a corner again. “I told you to fuck off.” You threaten, and he nods.

“heard it loud and clear.” He agrees with crossed arms, and you huff.

“Ears seem to be working then.” You snap. “the mistake must be in your brain.”

“I can assure you it’s working just fine as well.” He answers, and you snarl at that, distinctive canines showing.

“Then why are you still here digging through my shit?!” You bark at him, and he shrugs.

“Because no one deserves to rot away like this.”

It’s quiet at that, for a good moment. The only sound heard is the clock in the kitchen ticking, some faint rain against the windows, and a garbage bag slowly slipping a little from its position. And when it falls to the floor, he catches a short second of your eyes tearing up, before you turn around, looking away from him before you run off into your bedroom-

But the door won’t close with all the clutter, making you angrily growl at it while you try and somewhat pull it close.

Jungkook slowly walks towards you, to pull your hands off of the door handle, making you drop down to the floor in defeat, sitting right on your clothes that are laying on the floor. “leave me alone.” You cry to yourself, head low and hybrid ears even lower as you sit there, kicking away some of the clutter.

The wolfdog hybrid slowly squats down to your level, before he carefully moves a broken jar away from your leg and onto a small table close by. “What’s going on with you?” He finally asks, and you kick your leg again at that, a small box flying through the room.

“I just want to be alone!” You bark. “I don’t want anyone in here, I don’t want to go to practice, I don’t want to do this stupid contest, I don’t want anyone to look at me!” You complain loudly, and Jungkook would easily call this a textbook temper tantrum, if it wasn’t for your clearly desperate tears.

“did you tell your management?” He asks, and you scoff, sniffling.

“as if they care!” You huff. “it’s always just do this, do that, go here, eat that, smile, be nice, film everything.!” You tell him. “I want to go home!” You begin to cry now, hiding your face in your hands.

“Home?” Jungkook wonders, unsure what you mean. Isn’t this your home?

“I just wanna go home..” you continue to cry into your hands. “I wanna go see mom, and dad..” you mumble muffled into your palms, and Jungkook feels terrible seeing you like this. He doesn’t know you, but something is clearly not right. This isn’t acting, because your body language, your scent- everything tells him that you’re in genuine distress.

“Maybe you can visit them?” He wonders, slowly reaching out to put his hand on your knee, offering silent comfort that you, for now, seem to accept. “do they live far away-“

“they won’t let me.” You say. “they told them.. they told them I don’t wanna see them and that I hate them, and now they hate me.” You whimper.

“They?” the wolfdog asks, pushing some clutter to the side to sit down as well.

“the company.” You mumble. “because.. my dad didn’t want me to move away back when.. when I was still a pup.” You say. A pup possibly meaning that you were still underage. “and.. back then, I thought it was for the best. This was such a one-in-a-million chance..” you reveal to him. “I thought it was worth it.”

“Do they threaten you?” Jungkook worries, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“..They’re all I have.” You admit. “my.. my apartment. My money. My name. They own me.” You say, defeat evident in your voice as you slowly calm down again, tension leaving your body. “just.. leave me alone.”

“I cant.” Jungkook denies with a sigh. “not anymore.”

“fuck off-“ you start, grabbing at his hand, but he somehow moves it around, holding yours now instead.

“I won’t.” He sternly says. “Alright? I don’t know how, but I’ll figure something out.” He promises, and you look up at him with slightly red eyes, confused.

“Figure out what?” You ask, and he smiles.

“How to bring you home.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You’re very clearly not very happy about Jungkook currently cleaning your apartment with you.

You’re slow and sluggish, and you constantly complain about everything- and Jungkook can somewhat understand it. You’ve quite literally buried yourself in this little cave, having someone take it apart like this must be horribly uncomfortable. But it’s for the best- and you’ll soon realize that.

That doesn’t mean you don’t annoy him, still.

“Come on now, get up.” Jungkook scolds you, as he watches you sit on the couch.

“What?” You complain. “I’m cleaning.. under the coffee table.” You pretend, but he doesn’t take that as an appropriate answer.

“We agreed on one area at a time. We’re still in the kitchen.” He says. “now get over here and help me with the dishes. I wash, you dry.” He decides, making you somewhat reluctantly get up. It’s odd to have anyone in your apartment at all, since not even staff is allowed inside- you constantly find and make up excuses to keep them out at all times. This is your only safe space, after all.

The only place no one is looking at you.

“yesterday..” jungkook slowly says, putting another plate towards you so you can dry it. “..you said that the company owns you.” He remembers, and you nod. “To what degree?”

“I have an independence license.” You say. An independence license is basically a permanent permit to live on your own, and also work on your own. Basically, with it, you don’t need an owner at all. “But.. the company has full control over my finances and such. And they own my, you know, brand name.” You shrug.

“I meant it, you know?” He tells you, draining the sink of the soapy water. “I’ll try and figure something out.”

“Don’t bother.” You simply say. “it doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” Jungkook denies, drying his hands on a towel. But you stay silent as you put the dishes away in their proper places, not really sparing him any glance at all again.

Jungkook doesn’t really know yet how to help you. First, he wants to somehow get into contact with your parents and set things right again- maybe he can get their names and phone number from jimin who’s been working you for a good while now. And then, maybe they can help, too.

“I’m tired.” You complain as you sit down on the now finally somewhat clean floor, all the trash in bags and in a corner.

“You can take a nap.” Jungkook agrees, and you look at him with positive surprise.

“wait, really?!” You ask, tail wagging a little.

“sure. You’ve been working hard.” He approves. “and now that your couch isn’t cluttered, you can take a proper nap there.”

“Why not my bed?” You whine, disappointed.

“bed is for proper sleep. Couch is for naps.” He explains. “if you go to bed now you’ll just start rotting again.”

You stay quiet for a good moment, before you speak again, looking out the windows, curtains by now pulled open. Slowly, you walk over to the couch to sit down on, staring at your hands in your lap.

“I’m such a fuck up, am I not?” You sigh. “imagine if people knew how much of a failure I am.”

“You’re not a failure.” Jungkook denies, sitting down next to you on the couch. “just.. a bit lost at the moment.”

“Jungkook..” you say quietly, looking at his chest. “I really want to go home.” You admit, and he smiles softly.

“I know. And I’ll figure out a way, promise.” He offers, opening his arms. And much to his surprise, you take the invitation- even so much as to crawl onto his lap, leaning against his chest with your arms wrapped around him. It’s a lot more than he thought this was going to be, but he also can’t deny that this feels oddly comforting for him too.

And even though your tail is still limp and lifeless, at least you’re starting to open up. And maybe jimin was right after all.

Maybe you’re just acting tough.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook quickly learns that you really must’ve left home at a very young age- because you’re very much completely lost in translation when it comes to general tasks that fall onto someone when they live alone.

You’ve got no idea how to properly do laundry, you don’t know how to cook at all, and you have no idea what cleaning products to use for what. When he asked you if you had some window cleaner, you’d stared at him for a good second before you asked him why he can’t just use soap- and cooking in your book is simply boiling water for instant noodles.

It’s no wonder your apartment was in the state it was in. No one ever taught you how to look after yourself and your own home.

“Alright?” Jungkook asks while you stare at the washing machine with a determined gaze.

“put the clothes in, put the soap-squishy-thing in, close the door and then set it to that program there.” You repeat. Jungkook nods.

“But-?” He presses, and you stare at him for a second, thinking.

“But...uh..” you try and find an answer. “no colored stuff with white clothes? And no black with colors?” You try, and he grins, tail wagging.

“Good girl. See? You’re not dumb, you just didn’t know.” He praises. “now press start and then we can go laze around a little until it’s done.” He says, making you happily press the start button.

Something that Jungkook has noticed, is that the entire apartment seems oddly.. sterile almost, in that it looks and feels taken straight out of a magazine. You’ve got no thing personal it seems like, no blankets that aren’t a neutral color, no toys, no plushies despite you telling him by now that you love these things. Instead, you only really have your little gaming console and that’s it- your bedroom is mostly taken over by designer clothes and shoes, as well as all sorts of accessories. The bathroom contains shelves full of skincare for face and body, but everything else appears to be not at all to be your personality.

“You can get yourself some new blankets for the couch now that we’ve cleaned up.” Jungkook mentions, but at that you simply begin to pout next to him, legs pulled close to you as you slide down a little, slouching.

“Nah, they’ll say no.” You huff, watching the TV commercial play.

So you really meant it when you said that the company has full control over your money. He believed it might just involve big spendings, which would make sense- but it looks like it more so involves every single purchase you make instead.

“How long is your contract?” He asks, and you shrug.

“I think forever.” You say, flopping to the side, legs hanging off to the floor. “I don’t know.”

“Thats.. not legal.” Jungkook frowns. “did you never renew it?”

“Huh?” Your ears tilt towards him for a second. He still wonders why one of your ears is floppy these days. “..no. I don’t think I ever did.”

“I.. how long have you been with them?” He asks, and you hold your hands in front of you to start counting. And the more fingers you seem to add, the more concerned he becomes.

“Well, I uh.. wait, I left when I was..” you mumble to yourself. “and now that I’m.. I think eleven years?” You answer, looking at him.

The maximum contract length for hybrids is five years.

Five.

“I.. okay, can you do me a favor?” He asks, and you nod, slowly sitting up. “next time you’re at your company’s HQ, try and get a hold of a copy of your contract. But don’t tell anyone what you need it for.” He says.

If he can get a copy of whatever slave contract you’re under, getting you out of it will be easy. There’s strict laws for hybrids in place after all- one can’t just work them like pets, there’s rules every company has to follow. And that is the same in your industry as well.

“am I gonna go to jail?” You ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.

“No no, you did nothing wrong.” He denies, reaching out to pet your head- pleasantly surprised when you visibly accept the gesture.

Because he speaks the truth. You did nothing wrong.

You were simply used from the start.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

On Monday, jungkook is standing at your door, 7 AM.

And you really, really do not want to go with him.

“Come on now-“ he urges again, pulling on your fluffy sweater while you cling to the doorframe of your apartment building entrance, having just seen what exactly Jungkook uses as his preferred means of transportation.

“No, you’re not getting me on that death-trap, no way in hell!” You complain, escaping his grasp just for a second before his arms are around your middle, easily removing your fingers from the door with a smile sent towards the security guard as reassurance, before he carries your struggling body towards his Harley. “No!” You complain. “This is kidnapping! Abduction!” You cry out, before he puts the helmet he’d gotten recently on your head, hands fastening the strap beneath your chin before he gets onto the motorcycle as well, sitting in front of you.

And the second it roars to life, you’re clinging to him with arms and legs involved, resulting in Jungkook adjusting your grip a little to not strangle him.

Well- at least he’s not driving fast.

“I hate you.” You complain when he removes the helmet again in the underground parking lot beneath the dance studio, pupils still blown wide, cheeks a bit flushed.

“If you just got up yourself like a big girl, I wouldn’t have to drive you.” He easily tells you, helping you down from the vehicle. “we’ll do this again and again until you learn.” He explains, stepping into the elevator with you- still lowly growling to yourself, pissed off at his attitude.

You’re not a kid. He’s stupid.

But it does work, because at least you somewhat practice with him for a few hours, before you stubbornly lay down starfish style in the middle of the practice room, demanding a break- one he grants for once, even if it’s just ten minutes.

“I really don’t wanna go to that contest.” You huff, half of your face squished against the shiny floorboards. Jungkook slowly walks towards you, squatting down to flick his finger against one of your ears that’s again, a little floppy today.

“I know.” He answers, because he does still remember your outburst, devastating cries edged into his mind.

“Hey Jungkook?” you ask, as he absent-mindedly rubs your ear between his fingers, almost enchanted by the softness of it.

“Yeah?” He answers, noticing the way you clearly enjoy such a simple touch to the fullest. You’re constantly surrounded by people, and yet it’s clear that you’re touch-starved and just treated like a doll and nothing else. How lonely must you have been until now?

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “or a boyfriend?” You wonder, leaning into his hand with closed eyes.

“No.” He answers, unsure and most of all suspicious.

“nice.” You smile, tail wagging softly. “I’m your girlfriend then.” You decide, and he freezes.

“...what?” He asks, sitting down now, a water bottle next to his crossed legs. “You can’t.. that’s not how it works.” He explains, but you shrug.

“My mom and my dad didn’t like each other either.” You reply, staring at nothing ahead, chin on your hands. “they just.. got together out of convenience. Cause they were the same hybrid breed, and I guess didn’t have anyone else at the time.” You mumble. “love isn’t real anyways. I’m pretty- isn’t that enough for you to like me?” You ask, turning your head to look at him with a gaze so.. detached that it makes him feel pity.

Is that your view on the world around you?

“You are pretty.” He responds. “but that’s not a foundation for.. a relationship.” He shakes his head.

“I don’t mind that you’re a mix.” You shrug. “you’re handsome, I’m pretty, and I have money.” You say. “if we get together thousands will flock to your dance studio. You’ll be super successful. “ You propose to him. “doesn’t even have to be for long. You can just.. I don’t know. Spend some time with me until you get bored, and then move on.”

“No.” He denies again. You frown.

“Huh.” You huff, slowly sitting up. “whatever then, I guess.”

“Do you even like me?” he asks you, confused, and you shrug before nodding.

“You’re nice. A bit stick-up-you-ass, but overall nice.” You offer.

Jungkook just watches you for a second, in full disbelief at what had been done to you. Raised in a place of luxury, with a golden spoon in your mouth and lies fed daily to create the view you have on everything around you right now. No kindness without some ulterior motive fits your reality. Everything has to be convenient for everyone involved.

“I don’t want a relationship without love, no matter what I might gain from it.” He explains himself, and you roll your eyes, before you flop onto your back, arms crossed again as you sulk. “You shouldn’t settle for less either.”

“Yeah well I wont get that.” You answer. “no one wants me. They want.. her.” You say, while twirling the silver name tag from around your neck in your fingers.

Until he leans over you, body entirely covering yours for a second, causing you to become nervous and wide eyed at his bold move. He’s looking at your neck, and you’re sure he must’ve realized what’s in it for him- after all, everyone is out for something to gain.

His hands move around your neck, fingers warm. You close your eyes as his face draws closer, awaiting the inevitable.

When suddenly, the collar around your neck is undone, and pulled off your neck.

“what-“ you ask, eyes open again as you watch him still above you, now looking into your eyes, and no longer anywhere else.

“I don’t want her.” He says, referring to the name on the tag around your neck that’s now in his hand, pushed into the floorboards where he holds himself up.

“But I’d like to get to know you instead.”

[eliciana]

Reverse SAGAU: The Weird Door At My Café

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 (here) | ...

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Tw: Reverse!Isekai!Sagau, Normal Au, Café Au, a bit of cussing like this bit 🤏.

Reader: Gn!Reader, Adult!Reader, Café Owner!Reader

Characters: Reader, Paimon, Traveler

Note: Restaurant to Another World animanga inspired au. There is a taglist if you want to be tagged. Also, I may say that the characters other than the reader may be a bit OOC cause it's been a long time since I played genshin and I'm just finishing all of my works with my knowledge left from playing the game. So sorry about it 🙏🙏.

ALSO, sorry for the inconsistent updates. I'm busy with uni and my job so, I have very little time to write.

____________________________________

'Oh no no no. It's the Traveler and Paimon. Shit! What do I do? What do I do?' You're heart is beating so fast that it might just pop out of your chest anytime. It felt like eternity, just looking at both of them, it's as is if time is slowing down. 'Should I just fake dead? No, that will make them worried then come up to me and then- OH NO!' You eyes widen in horror as the two come near you with worry etched in their faces.

"Uhm. Hello? Are you okay?" Paimon with her high pitched voice asked you. "Are you hurt somewhere?" The Traveler extended a hand, offering to help you up from the floor where you were sprawled upon.

[Reader.exe has stopped working. Brain circuit has malfunctioned. Attempting to restart... Failed. Reloading...]

You looked at them absentmindedly, your brain struggling to process the situation. "Huh?" The Traveler, noticing your distress, gently carried you and placed you back in your chair. They wiped the tears from your face with a handkerchief, their touch warm and comforting.

"Hmm. Traveler. don't you think that this place kind of resembles a restaurant of some sort? Or like Puspa Café? But just more... uh advanced???" Paimon flew around the Café, examining each and every corner. "And it smells so lovely in here." She kicked her feet in the air while giggling as she looked at the pastry you had on your plate hungrily.

The Traveler nodded but their attention was still on you who looked like as if their soul was going to heaven. 'As expected, they do seem familiar and their aura... Where have I felt this?'

As you sat in your chair, dazed and just all in all trying to process what is going on, the Traveler placed their hand in your shoulder. the warmth in their hand seemed to have had woken you up in your stupor. "Take a deep breathe. You seem quite overwhelmed by the situation." Gently their voice was. They noticed your drink in the table and slowly pushed it towards you. "Drink first, water would have been better but I can't seem to find any."

"Sorry for startling you. We didn't mean any harm." The Traveller smiled as friendly as they could. "I'm Traveller and she is my companion, Paimon. May I know your name?"

"Uhm... My name is... (Reader)..." you introduced yourself, voice still shaky. "(Reader)... That's a lovely name!" Paimon chipped.

"Oh, yes. I almost forgot. Can we know where this place might be? This place is quite different from what we are used to and as you have seen earlier, we came from that door. The door appeared during one of our commisions and our curiosity led us here. It will be quite helpful to know where we are as of now." The Traveler slowly told you, thinking that you still might be startled at the moment.

"Ah. This is a Café and I'm the owner..." you explained, trying to regain your composure.

"I see." The Traveller nodded and seemed to be in a deep train of thought at your answer.

"WAHH! Traveller! Look! Look!" Paimon squealed. She flew to the Traveller and urged them to come with her. "Wait! Paimon! Slow down will you-" Silence. An eerie silence washed over your building. It was getting awkward so you had decided to walk over to them and try to explain the very advanced planet you live in.

As you approached the duo, you coughed, albeit awkwardly, and cleared your throat. "Uhm yeahh... As you can see outside of the window, this world is not the same as your world. It's quite baffling, right? I was also the same when I saw your world on the other side of the door." You scratched your cheek.

"What is this place?" Paimon said in awe, continuing to look at the scenery outside. The Traveler just continued looking outside speechlessly, eyes darting to one thing ot another. Then suddenly your eyes widened at a realization but you still kept yourself calm.

You explained to them softly, "The planet where you are in is called Earth and we are currently in (country name) situated in (where your country is)." While they where admiring the scenery, you took a quick silent run towards the shelf where the standees of genshin impact where situated at and roughly shoved them inside an unused cabinet.

"Oh yeah, what's your planet called?" You feigned ignorance of knowing who they already are. After all, if you somehow learned that you were just a game character, what would you feel? Wouldn't you feel so detached? or something along those lines and you don't want the both of them to go into a spiral of depression and continuous questions. It's also because you don't know what kind of excuse you will make if they ever saw the standees. It's only a miracle they didn't see it earlier.

"Oh uh, we're from somewhere called Teyvat. We're currently staying at Mondstadt due to some personal bussiness." The Traveler replied.

"I see. Teyvat... I have never heard of that. Come, sit here. Choose anything you guys want, except for the *cough* pastries cause they are only going to be delivered tomorrow. Also, my treat!" You winked at them as you gestured for them to seat at a table.

"You don't have to treat us to this. We will pay you for your service." The Traveler quickly told you. "Oh please, I insist. Besides, you guys are my first customers. Now, choose what drinks and snacks you would want in the menu." The Traveler wanted to refuse again but refusing twice would be quite impolite and you seem quite the person who would not go against what they say and stick to it no matter what so, they accepted their defeat with a soft sigh and begun browsing through the menu.

"WOAH! All of the drinks and foodsin the menu look and sound so amazingg! I can't choose!" Paimon squealed. Actually, you were quite suprised that Paimon has her very first voice and not the new one. Her squeals are more tolerable and she doesn't sound like a pig going to be butchered.

After minutes of them painstakingly choosing what they want and consulting you on what some of drinks are, they finally decided on what they want. Creamy Caramel Mocha for Paimon and Hazelnut Coffee for the Traveler.

(Note: I just randomly choose what I think they would want from the drinks I have already tasted so it might contrast with what you guys think they would like.)

You went behind the counter and proceeded to make their orders while you guys talk and ask each other about you guy's worlds, of course with you feigning ignorance even though you already know most of the lore.

_________________________________________

Without any of you three knowing, you lost track of time and soon it was evening. You had so much fun teaching them about Earth and listening to their tales of adventure on Teyvat. Paimon even provided you with an extensive list of her favorite foods from each nation, in case you ever decided to visit Teyvat. Nonetheless, you feel grateful but you don't know when you will go to their world but probably when you have a glock in hand would be the best time to go there. For now, you were content to cherish the memories you had made alongside them.

It was now time to say goodbye. You feel kind of sad since you have bonded with them much more in this short time but it's time to let go. Maybe there will be another next time or maybe not but, you are sure that you will wait again for the time they will come back again even if it's a long time. After all, they are still looking for their sibling so they may not have that much time to be able to visit you.

With a heavy heart, you packed some of the leftover pastries to give them as a farewell gift. "Wahhh! Thank you (Reader)!" Paimon exclaimed, tackling you in a grateful hug. "The next time we come here, we'll be sure to bring some delicious treats from Teyvat!"

The Traveler looked at you warmly. "Thank you (Name). I'll make sure to bring the finest sweets next time we meet." They stepped forward and embraced you gently. "Although our time together was brief, I cherished every moment."

"Me too..." you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. Standing before the door, you gently waved them a farewell as they prepared to depart. The Traveler and Paimon returned your wave, their faces reflecting the same emotions you felt. With a deep breath, they turned and stepped through the threshold, embarking on their continued journey.

As you watched them depart, you couldn't help but feel a bittersweet longing. But you knew that their paths would cross again, and you would be waiting, ready to welcome them back with open arms and a fresh batch of pastries.

_________________________________________

Taglist:

@kameyo-kumo

@esthelily

@haru-tofuu

@udretlnea

@shining-nebula2000

@ifeellikejumpingoffacliff

@resident-cryptid

@allblognamesaretakenlikereally

@leilakaro

@stvrbrighttt

@chericia

@evaline-ethan

@ra404

@mmmhyperfixation

[pixxiies]

reckless

matt sturniolo

ꜝ haven’s notes / thank u guys sososooso much for 500 !! i love u all so much dearly. i have a rlly busy week next week so i wanted to give u guys smth as a thank you:) also sorry if this is supa short

ꜝ genre / angst (no happy ending)

ꜝ warnings / yelling, cheating, crying, y/n used like twice (im sorryyyy), random names for the characters (audrey and fey), slight cursing, nd thats it! tell me if i missed anything

your friends have been on your tail recently about matt’s (your boyfriend) new friend who was a girl named audrey. they have been all telling you how he’s cheating on you with her but, you refuse to believe it. you met her a few times, she’s the complete opposite of you and shes perfect. you didn’t mind it that much whenever she tagged along on you nd matt’s dates, but the thing that pissed you off was the fact that they always left you out. he even ditched you a few times to go to her house to hang out without you.

its been a few weeks since the last time you saw audrey, which you were sort of glad about. but matt has been more distant recently. you laid on his bed as you waited for him to get out of his bathroom. he came in with the towel hanging low on his hips. “matt?” you say, watching him get his clothes from his dresser. he hummed back in reply, not turning to face you. “why have you been so distant lately? is it because of audrey?” you ask softly with your hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “what are you talking about? of course not baby. don’t worry ‘bout her, you know i would never hurt you like that.” he explains while turning around now to look at you. “just have been stressed with filming and back to back meetings.” matt smiled while walking over to you nd sitting on the edge of his bed. “oh, okay” you say softly while sitting up. “‘m gonna start heading out, you wanna come over tonight?” you ask him, tangling a hand in his wet loose curls. “can’t, hanging out with chris nd sam.” he said as he leaned into your touch. “ohh, thats okay.” you sound a little disappointed but you understood that he was gonna be with his friend. “i love you, have fun” you smile while getting up from your spot and kissing his cheek gently. “love you too”

you ended up just going to your bestfriend’s house the nd you slept over there. your now sitting on fey’s bed while you both are silent nd scrolling on your guys’ phone. after another few minutes of the comfortable silence mixed with the sound of rain tapping the window before fey gasped. “hm?” you hum curiously while perching your head up on the palm of your hand. “uhm.. where did your boyfriend say he was going last night again?” she asked while looking up at you. “he said he was going out with chris and sam, why?” you say, getting up from your spot to sit next to her instead. she angled her phone so you could see it. a photo of matt and audrey kissing at someone’s party. “what?” you whisper under your breath, grabbing fey’s phone slowly to analyze the picture. “i hate to say it y/n but, i told you this was gonna happen.” she said while hugging your shoulders softly. you stay silent for a bit before handing fey the phone back. you stand up from her bed nd put your shoes back on. "where are you going?" your bestfriend asks from her spot. "going to matt's house." you mumble as you bite back tears.

"w-what?" fey said while getting up and moving next to you. "gonna go talk to him, i'll talk to you later." you say before leaving her room nd going downstairs. you get into your car, but you didn't start the car yet. you sat there nd just thought. he said he would never hurt you, but here we are. you make your thirteen minute drive to his house, parking your car behind the minivan. you slowly get out of the car nd make your way to the front door. you were met with nick, eyes filled with worry. "matt here?" you ask quietly. you got no response, but just a hug from him. "dude, im so sorry." he says softly. "nick please. is he here?" you ask again while pulling the brunette off of him. "y- well yeah bu-" the second nick said that matt was there you quickly push him to the side and you start walking to matt's room. upon opening the door, you saw audrey on top on matt’s lap, the two of them making out. your eyes soften to the sight, the brunette boy pushing the girl away. "y/n! nono it's not what it-" he quickly starts trying to explain himself. "i guess my friends were right." you say while slamming matt's bedroom door shut. "what?" he asks while standing up. "my friends matt. they all told me that you could be cheating on me with her. they were fucking right." tears start to form on your waterline as you pointed to audrey who was watching this entire thing go down.

"baby please. you know i never meant to hurt you." he says gently when he notices the tears forming in your eyes. "but you did matt! you just did! you told me that you were gonna hang out with chris nd sam but no!" you start to speak louder, your words laced with tears. "you went to a party nd someone saw you with her last night." you say again as you didn't even give matt a chance to defend himself anymore. "i know i know. can i just explain myself?" he says quietly. "no matt. because in this case you fucking can't." you say in a tone that matches his. "i didn't even know you could be this reckless with someone's heart." you whisper while turning your back to the two nd opening the door to leave. of course, matt chases after you. "y/n! wait!" he said while running out of the room, audrey for some reason, following behind. "matt i don't wanna hear it! you wrote me this long letter saying how i was the only girl you'd ever want in your life. but was that all to waste? now you're over here, ditching me nd lying to me to go hang out with another girl." you say a bit too loudly with your mascara staining your cheeks. your eyes flicker between matt nd audrey then they landed back on matt. "i hope you both go to hell." you mumble before walking downstairs with chris nd nick walking after you.

ꜝ taglist / @mattscoquette @mattsluttywaist @luverboychris @mxqdii @sweetstars-posts @xoxo4chrisss @conspiracy-ash @submattenthusiast @strnzzvsp @bambi-slxt @deftonesmatt @s7urnscc

[sidekick-hero]

In Loving Memory

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 4, prompt: Angst with Happy Ending

Tags: Modern AU, rockstar Eddie, plane crash, HAPPY ENDING, minor character death

words: 3.3k | AO3 | mature

“Good afternoon, Mr. Harrington. My name is Elizabeth Quinn, and I’m part of the cabin crew today. Thank you for choosing to fly with us. I hope you're enjoying your flight so far.”

Steve looks up at the owner of the soft voice to his right. It’s a young woman in a stewardess uniform with big brown eyes that instantly remind him of Eddie.

“Oh, hello. Uhm, yes, everything is fine, thank you.”

The stewardess smiles warmly. “I'm glad to hear that, sir. I wanted to discuss a situation we’re currently facing. As you may know, flights can sometimes be overbooked, and today we have a few more passengers than seats available in first class. We’re looking for a volunteer to move to another section of the plane. In exchange, we’re offering a significant compensation package, including a voucher for a future flight, a complimentary upgrade on your next trip, and a gift card for our in-flight shopping.”

She looks apologetic, and he can tell she hates asking him this. It’s not a particularly long flight, and he mostly booked first class because that’s what his father’s secretary always did for him the few times his parents had him fly to wherever they were. So giving up his seat for a four-hour flight doesn’t seem too bad.

“Yes, I can move to another section of the plane. That’s okay,” he tells the stewardess and is rewarded with a bright, genuine smile adorned with dimples. Another thing that reminds him of Eddie. He pushes the ache in his chest down and returns the friendly smile with one of his own.

“Thank you so much for doing this, Mr. Harrington. If you have any specific preferences or questions, please let me know. Your understanding and cooperation greatly help us ensure everyone has a comfortable flight.”

With that, she leads him to another part of the plane, presumably Economy class.

“This one right here, Mr. Harrington. It has extra legroom and is situated next to an emergency exit. I will make sure you have a pleasant flight with us. You can call me with the call button or find me at the front or back of the plane.”

Steve nods with another smile that falls as soon as she walks away to prepare for takeoff. His thoughts wander back to the reason he’s on a flight to LA today.

Eddie.

He still wonders if this is a good idea. When he bought the ticket to LA, he was sure of it. The panic that had constricted his throat had lessened as soon as he pulled up the website of the airline and he felt like he could breathe again for the first time when he got the confirmation mail.

It’s a long shot, he knows that. Surprising Eddie in LA after everything that happened but he hopes it’s a grand enough gesture that maybe Eddie will forget how much Steve has hurt him. Robin suggested to just call Eddie and apologize, explain to him why Steve was so reluctant to take the next step with him.

The truth is, Steve doesn’t think he could handle it when Eddie didn’t pick up the phone or just hangs up on him before he can say his piece. If Eddie decides that it’s too much for him, that Steve’s too much, too damaged, then be it. But he needs to see Eddie one last time, drink in those beloved doe eyes one more time.

Steve thinks about why he and Eddie fought the last time they saw each other. Growing up in a very conservative household, Steve always suspected he might like men as well as women, but he denied any attraction toward men because of what his parents might say. He knew they wouldn’t accept him.

He was 31 when he walked into a bar in Chicago with his best friend Robin and locked eyes with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Eddie was the first man he ever kissed, ever slept with. He couldn’t help himself, not when Eddie flirted with him, wooed him, and made him laugh with his whole body. Steve always assumed what they had was strictly physical, just some fun between two single guys.

But Eddie wanted more than that. He wanted a relationship with Steve.

Eddie had asked Steve to be his date on the red carpet in LA for the Grammy Awards. Eddie was actually nominated with his band, Corroded Coffin, and he wanted to show the world who he loved. But Steve was scared. Everybody would know he was in a relationship with another man. So he declined, and Eddie left Steve’s apartment heartbroken.

Steve can still see the look on Eddie’s face, the hurt in his eyes. It had shattered something inside him, but his fear was stronger. He had watched Eddie walk away, the love of his life slipping through his fingers because he was too afraid to hold on.

Steve’s thoughts are interrupted by the plane's PA system crackling to life, announcing their imminent takeoff. He leans back in his seat, staring out the window as the plane begins to taxi down the runway. The memory of Eddie's face, the pain in his eyes, is as vivid as ever.

He had tried to justify his fear, telling himself it was about protecting Eddie, about not wanting to put him through the scrutiny and judgment that would come from being seen with another man. But deep down, Steve knew it was about protecting himself. He was scared of what his parents would think, what the world would think.

As the plane ascends, Steve closes his eyes, replaying that last conversation with Eddie in his mind.

"Steve, I love you. I want us to be together, really together," Eddie had said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I want you by my side at the Grammys. I want to show the world who I love."

Steve had felt his heart pound in his chest, a mix of fear and longing. "Eddie, I can't. You know how my parents are, how everyone will react. It's not that simple."

Eddie's eyes had filled with tears. "It is that simple, Steve. Either you love me enough to be with me, openly and proudly, or you don’t. I can’t keep hiding us. I can't keep hiding you."

Steve had stood there, silent and conflicted, as Eddie walked out the door. The sound of the door closing behind him had felt like the end of everything.

The plane levels off, and Steve opens his eyes, blinking back tears. He knows this trip to LA is a long shot, but he has to try. He has to make Eddie understand how much he means to him.

Steve takes a deep breath and pulls out his phone, opening the notes app. He starts typing, trying to find the right words to say when he sees Eddie.

The flight attendants come by with the beverage cart, and Steve looks up to see Elizabeth smiling at him. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Harrington?”

“Just some water, please,” Steve says, returning her smile.

As she hands him the bottle of water, she says softly, “It looks like you have a lot on your mind, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Steve looks up at her as he accepts the cup of water and finds that he actually wants to talk with someone about what he’s about to do. He needs someone to tell him that it’s going to work out.

“I do. I’m on my way to win back the man I’m in love with.”

There, he said it. He admitted that he was in love with another man and now he’s fighting the urge to hide, scared of her reaction. But he holds her gaze, heart pounding in his chest.

“Oh,” she says, her eyes softening, “that explains the look on your face. I think you’re very brave, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve takes a moment, contemplating how much to share. But he feels a strange sense of comfort in Elizabeth’s kind eyes.

“His name is Eddie,” Steve begins, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s the most amazing man I’ve ever met. He’s kind, talented, and makes me laugh like no one else can. But I let my fear ruin everything between us.”

Elizabeth listens intently, her expression encouraging him to continue.

“We fought because he wanted us to go public, to be together openly. He wanted me to go with him to the Grammys, to be his date. But I was too scared of what my parents would think, what people would say. So, I said no. And he left,” Steve explains, his voice cracking.

Elizabeth nods, understanding in her eyes. “That sounds really hard, Steve. But it also sounds like you care a lot about him.”

“I do,” Steve says, his eyes filling with tears. “I love him more than anything. That’s why I’m going to LA. I need to tell him how sorry I am and that I’m ready to be with him, no matter what anyone else thinks.”

Elizabeth places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It takes a lot of courage to admit when you’re wrong and to fight for what you love. Eddie is a very lucky man to be loved so much by you, Steve. I hope he sees that.”

Steve smiles, feeling a bit lighter. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I really hope he does.”

Elizabeth gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving on to the next passenger. Steve watches her go, feeling a much needed sense of hope. He’s made mistakes, let fear dictate his actions, but he’s ready to make things right.

About two hours into the flight, Steve decides to stretch his legs and walks up and down the narrow aisle. He passes families with little kids, an elderly couple working on a crossword puzzle together, and two young women chatting and laughing. It’s fascinating to see so many different lives intersecting in one place.

On his fifth lap, Elizabeth appears next to him, gently touching his arm.

“Steve, could you please take your seat and fasten your seatbelt?”

He looks at her, puzzled. “But the seatbelt signs are still off.”

“That’s true, but from experience, I know the signs could come on any minute. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before the aisle gets too crowded with everyone returning to their seats.”

Steve nods, appreciating the heads-up. “Thanks for letting me know.” He heads back to his seat.

As Steve settles in and fastens his seatbelt, the plane suddenly lurches violently. The cabin shakes with a gut-wrenching turbulence, hurling passengers and their belongings through the air. Panic erupts as screams fill the cabin, and Steve clings to his seat, trying to stay calm amid the chaos.

Elizabeth dashes down the aisle, her face pale and eyes wide. She spots Steve and rushes over, her voice barely audible over the cacophony. “Steve! Call Eddie! Now!”

Heart pounding, Steve scrambles for his phone. His hands tremble uncontrollably as he dials Eddie’s number. The turbulence makes it nearly impossible to hold the phone steady, but he manages to keep a grip.

The call connects, and Eddie’s voice comes through, thick with confusion and worry. “Steve?” He asks and then he must hear the chaos in the background because he immediately adds, “What’s going on? Is everything alright?”

“Eddie,” Steve’s voice cracks as he fights back tears. “I’m so sorry. I should have been braver. I should have been all in. I’m on this plane, and it’s really bad. I wanted to come to LA to talk to you. I wish I could have done all this in person. I wish I could kiss you one last time.”

Eddie’s voice trembles with desperation. “Steve, what’s happening? Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Steve’s eyes dart around the cabin, the plane shaking violently as alarms blare and panicked voices rise. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t want this to be a goodbye, but I think it might be. I needed to tell you how much I regret being so scared, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I love you, Eddie. I should’ve told you when I had the chance.”

The turbulence worsens, and the plane begins a terrifying descent. The noise in the background grows louder and more intense. Eddie’s voice, filled with panic, tries to reach him. “Steve, stay with me! Please!”

But as the plane’s descent becomes more violent, the call goes eerily silent. Steve’s heart pounds in his chest as the only sound now is the relentless, chilling dial tone. Tears stream down his face as he grips the phone tightly.

Elizabeth returns to Steve’s side, her eyes filled with kindness and urgency. She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Hold on, Steve. It’s going to be okay, but I need you to fight. For Eddie, okay?”

Steve nods, trying to steady himself amidst the chaos. He closes his eyes, focusing on Eddie’s voice and the love they shared, holding onto the hope that somehow, somehow, he’ll get another chance.

The last thing he hears is the deafening roar of something massive hitting the ground way too fast.

When Steve opens his eyes, he’s immediately overwhelmed by blinding light and searing pain. He groans, wishing for unconsciousness to take him away again so the agony would stop.

“Steve?”

The sound of Eddie’s voice pulls him from the sweet embrace of nothingness. The panic in Eddie’s voice is palpable, as if he’s on the verge of breaking down.

“’ddie?” Steve mumbles, his mouth feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton and his tongue heavy.

“Yes, I’m here, Stevie. I’m here.” Suddenly, Eddie’s beloved face appears above him, his eyes red-rimmed and watery. “Hi, baby.”

Steve manages a smile, the pain momentarily overshadowed by the sight of Eddie’s face. How he’s missed those eyes.

The thought brings Elizabeth back to his mind, the stewardess with the same eyes. Reality crashes back, and Steve gasps with the sudden realization that he should be dead.

“What… happened?” he croaks, his voice barely audible as his strength begins to wane.

“I promise I’ll explain everything, Stevie, but first we need to get your strength back. I’ll let the nurse know you’re awake.” Eddie reaches for the call button next to Steve but stops to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s forehead. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was terrified of losing you.”

That’s the last thing Steve hears before darkness pulls him under once more.

The next time Steve wakes up, he feels a bit better. The pain is still there, but it’s dulled by the medication, making it manageable. He’s strong enough to talk more than just a few minutes, and he uses that strength to repeat to Eddie what he had said on the phone during the crash.

Eddie is holding Steve’s hand between his, his tear-streaked cheek resting gently on the back of Steve’s hand. His eyes are still red and puffy, but he speaks with a steady voice that is thick with emotion. “Steve, I could never just walk away from you. I knew you weren’t ready, even though it hurt. I planned to talk to you when I got back to Chicago, to tell you that I would wait for you, as long as I wouldn’t lose you. But when you called and I heard all that screaming… Fuck! I can’t even think about it without wanting to throw up. The crash was bad—most of the front was completely destroyed. It’s a miracle you survived.”

Steve blinks, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. “How… How did I survive?”

Eddie’s gaze is intense as he searches Steve’s eyes. “From what they told me, you were supposed to be seated in the front, but you weren’t. No one could explain why. Your seat was right next to the emergency exit, so they got you out quickly. And you had your seatbelt fastened, which probably kept you from being thrown around too much. It’s almost like fate that you survived. Only twenty-three people made it.”

Steve’s eyes widen as he absorbs Eddie’s words. The thought weighs heavily on his chest: If it hadn’t been for Elizabeth’s warning, he might not have been so lucky. He’s sure she’s the reason he’s still here.

A flicker of concern crosses Steve’s face. “Elizabeth… she was a stewardess on the flight. She moved me to this seat, told me that first class was overbooked and asked if I’d be willing to switch. And she also made sure I fastened my seatbelt just before we started going down.”

Eddie’s eyes grow wide with shock. “But… they said on the news that casualties were below a hundred because first class wasn’t as full as usual. They said no one in that section survived.”

Steve’s heart pounds as he starts to realize the gravity of Elizabeth’s actions. “I need to find out if she survived, Eddie. She saved my life, and I need to thank her.”

Eddie’s eyes brighten with resolve. “We can do that, Stevie. I need to thank this woman, who saved the man I love. What’s her name? I’ll get Chrissy on it—she’ll find out in no time.”

Feeling his love for Eddie surge, Steve lets it overflow for the first time without restraint. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

They share a long, tender look, like lovesick teenagers, before Steve remembers Eddie’s question. “Her name is Elizabeth Quinn.”

Eddie’s expression changes abruptly. All color drains from his face.

“What did you say her name is?”

“Elizabeth Quinn. Why, do you know her?”

Ignoring the question, Eddie asks, “What did she look like?”

Steve describes Elizabeth, including her big brown eyes that reminded him of Eddie’s—one reason he bonded with her almost instantly.

As Steve finishes, Eddie looks even paler. Wordlessly, he pulls out his phone, navigates to an article from the airline, and hands it to Steve. The headline reads: “Airline Grieves Loss of Crew Members on Flight 731.” The article features a picture of a stewardess who looks just like Elizabeth. Her name is listed below the photo: Elizabeth Quinn.

Steve’s heart sinks as he reads the name. “That’s her. Elizabeth Quinn.”

Eddie’s voice trembles as he looks at Steve. “Elizabeth Quinn was my mom. She was a stewardess, and she died in a plane crash when I was eight.”

Steve’s eyes widen in shock. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I had no idea.”

Eddie’s eyes are glassy as he looks at Steve. “She was the best person I knew. She loved her job and loved helping people. And now it seems she came back to help two more people: me and you.”

Steve reaches out weakly, placing a hand on Eddie’s. “I wish I could have thanked her in person. But I did tell her about you—how funny, smart, and amazing you are. How much I love you. And I should have known, because you look just like her. The same kind eyes and dimples when you smile.”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand, his voice breaking. “I’m glad you got to meet her. God, this is so crazy. I was so angry for so long that she left me. I know it’s unfair, but that’s how I felt. I miss her so much.”

“She knew you loved her. She made sure you wouldn’t lose another person you love, because she loves you too. Even if she’s no longer here, she’s still watching over you.”

“Over us, you mean. I’m pretty sure this means you’re part of the family now.”

Eddie still asks Chrissy to check the airline's list for Steve’s savior. He’s not surprised when Chrissy reports that there was no Elizabeth Quinn on that flight.

[bluerthanvelvet444]

.・˚*✧.𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

(Jimmy Darling x fem!reader)

tags: enemies to lovers plot, smut!

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, brief mentions of death, slamming against the wall (?), fingering, oral (m!receaving).

summary: Two freaks who despise each other end up...well...finding out that the other wasn't so bad.

character count: 12k.

this was a request by @brightanshiny!<3

full fic under the cut ↓

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You walked steadily, the only sound you could perceive was the grass being crushed by your low heel pumps. The birds’ faint chirp rang in your ears, accompanied by your anxious breathing. You were walking in the dark both because your sunnies made everything cloudy and because you had no idea where your destination was.

“Where you goin’, beautiful?” was what all drivers asked while slowing their cars as they saw an objectively young woman alone in the middle of a desert land. They also all drove off after hearing your response. Why would such an adorable creature be led in a freakshow?

If only they knew. You kept wandering around, your hands clutching tightly to the handle of your bag, and your heart clinging onto the hope. And then, you felt like your prayers had been listened to once a car stopped and actually offered you a ride. You had nothing to lose, especially because they said they were going to the freakshow too. You hopped in the backseat of their car, adjusting your glasses in the awkward silence.

“So uhm…what brings you to the freakshow?” You cleared your throat after asking.

The couple chuckled and turned to you. Only then you realized that the woman had three breasts, and the man had, well…one heck of a bicep. A toothy smile made its way on your face, you had already made some friends.

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Time passed while your eyes scanned the view from the window, and before you knew it, you had arrived. You were greeted by a giant entrance shaped as a wicked…devil? Whatever that thing was, it made you shiver. You wished good luck to the couple as they walked towards Elsa’s tent, you decided to prepare yourself before ‘auditioning’. You settled your bag onto the grass, and began searching for your cards, when suddenly a misshapen geek ran towards you with…a little flower?

“Flower!” She babbled with a crooked grin.

You, who had fallen onto the ground after that thing scared the hell out of you, quickly got up taking a few steps back.

“Pepper, c’mere.” A young man walked towards who you assumed was pepper.

He had brown locks falling onto his face, deep brown eyes gazing at you and your figure, and a boyish smile plastered on his face. He was wearing a simple white tank, and as your gaze traveled down, you noticed that his hands were…deformed.

“Excuse her, she’s just got a lil’ excited. S’not everyday a beautiful lady like ya comes around.” He winked.

“Oh…that’s okay. Thank you for the flower.” You smiled at Pepper, who got all giddy as you took her flower.

“A ride on the carousel’s one nickel, doll. Want me to show ya the way?” He kept checking you out.

“Oh uh…I’m not here for that.” You chuckled apologetically.

“Oh. Looking for another typa ride?” He flexed his arms and hands.

“What? N-no.” You felt the heat rising to your cheeks.

“I’m here to…join.” You added, almost bashfully.

“Join what? The carnival?” He raised an eyebrow as he peeked at your bag.

You nodded, which earned a scoff from him.

“Ya know ya actually have to be a freak to join? Or ya got a surprise under yer dress?” He chuckled.

“Uh no…I am a freak too, though.” You slid your sunglasses over your head, revealing your heterochromia. One of your eyes was light, the other was dark. His eyes widened a little at the sight, then he burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” You frowned, a wave of insecurity washing over you.

“Ya think yer a freak jus’ because ya got different colored eyes? That’s an insult to us, real freaks.” He spat.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” You narrowed your eyes as your annoyance grew.

“I don’t think ya got the right to call yerself a freak. Look at me, look at my hands, I could never be considered normal with these. But you? Ya could be a heck of a model. Yer quirk doesn’t make ya disgusting to look at. So you better leave, little girl, before you actually see what the real freaks are like.” He replied bitterly.

Suddenly you were a kid again, all the other normal children playing around you while you were sitting in the corner of the class eating your jam sandwich.

“My mom said she came from the devil’s womb…” Little Kimberly whispered.

“Really? My dad says she’s a witch…” Young Sebastian muttered.

And now, this lobster boy came up to you to tell you that you didn’t suffer enough to consider yourself an actual freak? How rude.

“You don’t know a single thing about me, I’ve been an outcast my whole life, I know for sure what I can call myself and I know even better that I belong here. I thought I wouldn’t get judged if I was among people like me. But apparently, I was wrong.” You raised your voice.

“You’ll never be like us. And what can ya even do? Sing? Dance?” He chuckled, smirking.

“I read tarots.” You crossed your arms.

“Oh well, good luck with that. Elsa doesn’t believe in that crap.” He spoke harshly before walking away.

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You ended up joining the circus. Something that you said brought up memories in Elsa's mind, convincing her. You even had your own little stand where sometimes people would stop by. Some were suspicious, some were faithful. In the end, they all left your stand with a new set of hopes. The other freaks weren’t so bad, in fact, they welcomed you with open arms. Ethel, the bearded woman, was one of your favorites. She was always sweet with you, and you felt so…safe with her. You couldn’t quite understand how such a wonderful woman gave birth to such a rude creature. Jimmy, her son, was in fact her complete opposite. Always making fun of your profession, with that stupid grin that he loved to flash, especially to the ladies. This is why at her funeral you were sobbing your eyes out. She was like a mother to you, the accepting one that you never had. And if her weird death managed to hit you that badly, it was even worse for Jimmy. He was really close to his mother, so her death completely destroyed him, making him a drunk mess and an even more annoying bastard.

After the burial, you walked to your stand, organizing it for the next day. You were putting the cards away, when suddenly a voice behind you made you jump.

“Ya got a minute?” Jimmy spoke with a broken voice, leaning against the entrance.

He was soaking wet, so you assumed he stayed next to his mother’s grave in the rain. You had to admit, the sight made your heart ache. He looked so heartbroken, a miserable expression on his face, his deep brown eyes dull, visibly lost.

“O-of course…What do you need?” You frowned as he sat down in front of you, dismissing your help with a wave of his claws. He sniffled, pointing to your cards.

“Do these actually work?” He looked up at you, brows creased.

“Uh…I mean…technically it’s all based on universe belief-” You were interrupted by him.

“Do these fucking work?” He repeated, his voice rough and angry, although you could see a hint of desperation in his eyes. You didn’t know how to answer his question, so you simply nodded, hoping that was what he wanted to hear. You sat down and shuffled the cards.

“Pull three cards.” You spread the cards over the table.

He pulled three, then turned them to face the surface.

DEATH, THE DEVIL, JUDGEMENT.

His gaze hardened and he quickly stood up.

“Are ya messing with me?!” He slammed his claws on the table, some cards falling down.

“What? No! Why would I?” You raised your voice in defense.

“Yer doing this on purpose!” He growled, then turned around and punched the tent out of anger. He buried his face in his hands, and to your surprise, he started crying. You immediately hurried to him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder, rubbing your thumb in soothing circles.

“I-I swear…it’s all casual…I didn’t mean to-” You spoke, almost ashamed, before being cut off. He grabbed your shoulders, lifting you up and slamming your body against the tend. He held you up like that, his face a few inches away from yours, you could actually feel his breath on his face. He smelled like alcohol.

“Casual, huh? I come up to ya out of pure desperation, hoping that those little fairytales you tell to yer customers will at least distract me, to let there be light…and what do ya fucking show me? Death, judgement and the fucking devil?” He spoke cruelly, his grip on your shoulders tightening.

“Y-you’re drunk, Jimmy…please…” You breathed out, scared of what his next possible move could be.

“Yer so fucking annoying!” He grunted to your face, his gaze severe as it traveled down to your lips, where a sudden change of expression crept on his face. He took a deep breath.

“but so damn addicting...” He muttered under his breath, hurriedly smashing his lips against yours. His kiss was harsh, crude, driven by a primal instinct. You were confused, yes, and you were pretty sure he wasn’t completely lucid. Yet, you leaned into the kiss, your lips moving in sync against his. He hummed as he felt you reciprocate, and roughly grabbed the back of your thighs, pulling them up and sliding between them, so that your legs were wrapped around his torso, and his hips were pressing against yours. You yelped at the sudden change of position, your arms reaching to drape around his neck. Now that you were securely clinging onto him, he grabbed your waist, his face nuzzling in the crook of your neck.

“Fucking angel…whatcha do to me…” He mumbled while sliding his lips on your neck, making you shiver. He started kissing and sucking your skin until he left a red mark. You tried to bite back a groan.

“Lemme hear ya…” He sunk his teeth onto the skin of your neck, being careful not to draw blood. That caused an almost instant moan from you and you felt him smile while he trailed kisses down your chest, against the fabric of your dress. He groaned in frustration as the thin fabric represented a barrier between you two that he had to get rid of as soon as possible. He reached to the zipper on your back, brutally pulling it down along with your dress. His eyes traveled on your almost naked figure, causing a subtle blush on your cheeks. He buried his face between your breasts, one of his big hands unclasping your bra and groping your tits. His mouth worked wonders on your nipples, and pretty much all of the skin around. You couldn’t help but groan, especially when his claws made their way on your heat, sliding your panties aside. His fused fingers brushed a few times against your clit before immediately dipping in your slick entrance.

“Ohh…! f-fuck Jimmy…” You moaned, your hands reaching to grip his curls. He grinned and pumped his fingers steadily, increasing progressively the pace. Your moans kept growing louder and louder, as you felt that knot in your tummy tighten.

“Jus’ like that, doll…takin’ it so well…” He murmured in your ears, occasionally biting your earlobe. You felt your back slide against the tent wall, in sync with the rhythm of his fingers.

“S-shit…I’m gonna- ah!- cum…” You whined.

“Let go…let go f’me, sunshine…” He groaned, his tongue sliding down to tease your collarbone. With a few more pumps, you reached the edge, coming on his fingers. Your moans were so loud you were sure that everyone outside heard you.

“There ya go, doll…so good…” He smirked, letting you catch your breath. He looked at his fingers, wet with your release. He brought them to his mouth, sucking your cum off of them. The sight drove you crazy, so in return, you sank to your knees, your hands urgently working on the buttons of his pants. He let out a small gasp of surprise.

“Uh…whatcha doin’, angel?” He breathed out, almost shyly, as you pulled his pants along with his boxers down.

“Returning the favor..” You batted your lashes at him, innocently and naughtily at the same time.

“O-oh…alright…I’m not used to uh…usually girls are all over my fingers, they don’t really pay attention to my-” He cut himself off with a moan, caused by your lips suddenly wrapping around his tip. You were surprised by his size, he was average in length, although he was…girthy. You started sucking gently, slowly and teasingly.

“Ah…like that…” He groaned and tried to fight the urge of grabbing your head and fucking your face. You smiled as you tasted his pre-cum, finally deciding to take more of him in your mouth. Once you adjusted to his bigness, you started bobbing your head up and down.

“Oh! f-fuck…so fucking good…like that…atta girl…” His eyes shut down in pleasure, his mouth opening in an “o” form. He couldn’t resist anymore, he grasped the back of your head and started fucking your face at a faster pace. The impact was harsh, and it caused you to gag a little, your eyes watering.

“Sorry doll…ya jus’...feel so fucking good…” He moaned, bobbing your head up and down even faster, catching his orgasm. He groaned, releasing hot strings of cum in your mouth. He quickly pulled out, helping you up on your feet and watching you swallow with a proud grin. He helped you put on your clothes again, and picked you up like a princess, as if you weighed nothing. He pressed some kisses to the side of your face.

“Yer my light, dollface.” He smiled, all mushy.

“Let’s go get some rest in my caravan…I’ll get ya ice cream later, yea?” He chuckled.

You had never seen him happier.

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a/n: hiiii!!! ughhhh this took sooo long, I'm so full of exams!!! BTW, I tried to write a more interesting plot, bcs I know that Jimmy is very underrated and not many people read fics of him!! poor little lobster boy. Anyways, hope you like it!!❤️❤️

taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @marchsfreakshow @fear-is-truth @doll3tt33 @angeldollw @newwavesylviaplath @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind @brightanshiny

all rights reserved!!

[ratskinsuit]

Romantic Velvette x gn Reader story where Velvette and Reader were partners before they died and after a long time they were able to meet again in hell. I imagine it happened because Reader wanted to enter the fashion world and tried becoming a model for Velvette, and they didn't recognize themself at first but after a while they did and decided to get back together.

• 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚃𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗 •

Velvette x gn!Reader

<3————————————————————-Ɛ>

Tags: Gender-neutral reader, No smut, Fluff (Kinda), angst(kinda), mentions of drinking, smoking, and drugs, cursing, Velvette being kind of a bitch, slightly mean Velvette, her poor models, Velvette being a bad employer, but we love her, Velvette being kind of invasive and touchy with reader, I'm so so sorry

A/N: PLEASE I SAW THIS AND WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE IT. I tried to keep her as in character as I can. I’m trying a different writing style but I hope it’s okay! I also couldent tell if you wanted them to not reconize themself or velvette and I’m so sorry if I messed up. I also know nothing about modeling so expect this to not be accurate, but I Hope you enjoy!

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Hell. A place known to hold the sinners of the world above. Home to all the nasty fucked-ups, the murderers, and the evil of the human world in the afterlife.

You don’t know how you ended up here. You thought yourself of a good person in life. Of course you had the occasional slip-up and weren’t the best person at times, you weren’t perfect. But what human is?

Nevertheless, after a traffic mishap, you ended up in the world with red sky and trashed streets.

You woke up in an alleyway, on the ground. You slowly blink your eyes open, trying to adjust. You sit up with a groan, looking around, confused.

You spot a lizard looking man, leaning against the south wall of you, smoking a cigarette. He has eyes red, greenish grey scales going up from his neck to his scalp. He breathes out a puff of smoke. Eyes darting around the alleyway before landing on you, and he smirks at your staring.

“Something wrong?” He chuckles, taking in another hit.

You hesitate, glancing at him up and down. “Uhm… ex..excuse me, where am I…?” You as, nervously, earning you a laugh from the man.

“Oh, I’m guessing you just got here hm?” He breathes out the smoke, batting it away and flicking his purple tongue out. “Yeah, you smell fresh. Definitely new.”

You look at him confused, not understanding what he means, an obvious clueless look on you face.

The man leans off the wall, walking over to you and crouching over you. “Your in hell kid, You died” he says.

“Your… kidding..” You say, causing him to let out a cackle. “Nope. Welcome to the underworld.” He says, before chuckling, and walking off.

You sit there for a second, dumbfounded. After a moment you stand up, wobbly, but immediately feel dizzy, so you brace yourself against the wall.

Once your vision clears, you notice your hands, no longer there. Now replaced with dark claws.

You gasp, backing up, looking at them, turning them over and looking over them. You thought you would change wherever you went, but you were scared of what you look like now. You look around the alley, spotting a mirror.

You hesitantly walk over to it, standing in shock as you look at yourself in the mirror.

Running a now clawed hand softly over your changed face and body. Did you seriously die? You ask yourself, looking over at your new form.

Tears fill your eyes and you sniffle, trying to hold them back, blinking and wiping them away.

You let out a shaky exhale, taking one last glance at your appearance, before you begin to walk out of the alley.

Once exited, you blink your eyes, trying to adjust to the odd lighting, and begin to look around, walking and exploring for about an hour.

Demons and sinners litter the streets, walking, talking with each other, one person even getting beat up. Vending machines line the streets, and you walk over to one. Curious to see what it has, only to be presented with things that you have never heard of before.

You turn away from the odd vendor, walking the streets for about an hour. Billboard signs are everywhere, advertising p*rn, drugs, and…. a badly spelled assassin company sign?

You sigh, beginning to walk again, when a hot pink van screeches to a stop beside you. It’s doors littered with graffiti, ranging from emojis to slurs.

The door slams open, revealing a van full of demons, led lights shinning down on them. Music blasting from speakers inside, beer cans and cigarettes littering the floor.

One of the demons from inside, a guy with pale grey skin, blaring red hair, and dark sunglasses grins at you “Heyyyyy, you seem a bit lost. Guessing your new here.” He says, taking a swig from a canister, two girls snuggled against him. Can people really tell that you just got here that easily?

“Why don’t you hop in hot stuff. We are heading to the Vees tower. Come on we will give you a ride!” He says, grinning, the girls next to him giggling.

You hesitate, wary of getting into a van full of strangers, in hell especially. “Awe don’t be shy cutie, we don’t bite, come on!” The girl to the left of the guy coos, pushing a stray strand of her purple hair out of her face. Her black eyes gleaming wickedly.

You decide to say fuck it, and hop in the car. I mean it’s not like you can die twice, right? Once you're in, the door slams shut again and you sit across from the three. You look them up and down, them doing the same to you.

“So, how recent are you?” The girl to the right ask, her blue eyes studying you up and down, murky green hair in a braid. You look at her quizzically, earning you a sigh. “How long ago did you die?”

You look at her, blushing a tad for not understanding what she meant. “Oh, uhm… well I just woke up about an hour ago.” You say, the guy letting out a laugh.

“Holy shit your really new. How’d ya die?” He asks, offering you his canister, to which you politely decline.

“Well the last thing I remember is some asshole swerving in front of me on the highway too fast for me to stop myself.” You say, the guy letting out a chuckle. “Shit man that’s rough, going out in a car crash must be fucking mental.” He says. "I mean me personally, i'd prefer to go out in a more badass way." He grins.

You hesitate before speaking up, not wanting to be awkward “So, uhm… where are we going again…?” You ask.

“The Vees tower, they are some of the Overlords, like the more powerful demons of hell.” The purple haired one says, pausing to continue “There is a porn empire runner, kind of a bitch if you ask me, the guy who makes pretty much every electronic device here, and the modeling agency.”

You look at them, still trying to absorb the information being presented to you. “Oh… so why are we going there..?” You ask cautiously.

“Well we are going there because a guy is meeting us to pay off some debt he owes.” The girl with the green hair says, glaring at you, the purple headed one elbowing her with a warning look.

“You know, since you just got here, and your probably gonna need a job, you should try out to be a model! I mean you got the looks.” The guy say, smirking, taking you aback.

“Are… you sure? I don’t know, I don’t... know….” You say nervously, glancing at the three. “Nonsense, your fucking hot as hell, you can definitely get the job!” The purple haired girl chirps, giving you a wide smile.

“I mean…. I, could try..” you murmer, still unsure. But on the bright side growing more comfortable with the three demons.

As you glance out the window, the van comes to a stop infront of a large building. The car door opens and you follow our after the other three.

You turn to them, rubbing the back of your neck. “Hey, uh thanks for the ride…” you say, with a smile, the purple haired girl and the guy smiling back, the other glaring. The two girls link arms. “Yeah of course, anytime. See ya around!” The guy says with a wink, before the three start heading over to an alleyway with a shady looking guy in it.

You roll your shoulders, before turning to the looming building infront of you. Sleek glass covering it all, it’s new look contrasting to the ruins of the surrounding buildings and streets surrounding you.

You go over to one of the glass panels, taking another look at yourself, a frown on your face, still not used to it. You brush yourself off, running fingers through your hair, and straightening out your clothes.

You take one last glance at yourself before you take a deep breath and enter the building. Entering, you look around finding yourself surrounded by fancy plush furniture. A scent lingering that you cant quite name.

You walk over to the front desk, the imp behind it on her phone. You wait a second, hoping she will notice you. When she seems to not notice your presence, you clear your throat. She glances up at you, a bored look on her face. "Ya need something?" She asks, looking you up and down judgmentaly.

Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious, you shuffle from foot to foot. "Oh uhm, hi.. I would like to apply to be a model..." You say. "Doesn't everyone?" She says, snickering. You just stand there awkwardly for a moment, before the imp groans and scavenges for something in a drawer behind the desk.

A moment later she comes back up with a packet, shoving it in your hands. "Just give me your name and go sit down and fill out the packet and I'll call you when she is ready." She says. You thank her, giving her your name, giving you an eye roll she goes back to her phone.

You turn around, going to look for a place to sit, ending up at a comfy white plush chair by the window. Sitting, you begin to fill out the packet, full of average questions, Name, Age, Gender, Cause of Death, Medical History, etc-

After about 20 minutes of waiting the lady at the front desk calls your name. You go up to her, trying to hand her your packet but she pushes it away. "No no no, I don't go over that. She does. Go up to the 7th floor, shes waiting for you already." You pull your arm back. "Wait who is-"

"THE BOSS. GO." She yells, causing you to stumble back a bit, gripping your pamphlet tightly. You sigh, running a hand through your hair. You head over to the elevator, luckily empty. You press the 6th floor button and tap your feet nervously.

After what feels like an eternity, the elevator button dings, alerting you that you're on the 6th floor, and the doors open. Immediately you are hit by a stronger version of what you smelt downstairs, and yelling. Lots of yelling.

Your presented a pink room, clothes and hangers littering the floors. Podiums with models of all different shapes colors and sizes. In the middle is lady, who you assume is the boss, screaming at one of the models.

"THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! ?!" She screams at them, anger written all over her face, at seeing her, you feel a sense of knowing hit you for a moment, but immediately dissipates as you brush it off.

"I-i... i'm sorry, my legs are just wobbly, i-its hard to walk in heels..p-please d- ont be mad...." The model pleads, tears streaming down her face, ruining her makeup.

"MAD?! DO I SEEM MAD?! YOU FELL AND EMBARRED ME DURING A SHOW, AND NOW YOUR RUINING YOUR MAKEUP!?" She continues yelling, the model sobbing hysterically now, on the floor in a heap.

"FIRED. YOUR FIRED GET THE FUCK OUT." She says. Two security guards dragging the poor, sobbing girl out.

Your frozen on the spot, shocked at what you just witnessed, regretting your decision to come here.

The lady groans, rubbing her temples and squeezing her eyes shut. Before you could double back, she sighs and turns in your direction, the two of you locking eyes.

"Who the FUCK are....you.." She says, pausing halfway through an unrecognizable look appearing on her face, as her features soften a bit.

"Im... here for an interview, to be a model..." You say, the expression she had a second ago gone as you blinked, as she looks you up and down. "Ah okay your my two o-clock." You nod, going and handing her your packet.

As soon as she grasped it she threw it over her shoulder and pointed to one of the empty podiums next to her. "Go, stand up there." She demands.

"W-wait aren't you going to read my pa-" You begin but she interrupts you. "Ill read it if you get the job, this is the most important part, now shut up and stand up." She says. Not wanting to piss her off you climb onto the podium and she follows up after you.

As you stand there you, somehow, get changed into a black tight tank top and some some tight shorts. "Wait wait wait how-" You try to speak but she raises a hand with a glare. "It's part of the process, not be quiet or you wont even get a chance."

You stand there quietly, feeling rather exposed as "The Boss" circles around you like a predator, observing you, poking and prodding like you're some sort of doll. Studying you.

After about 10 minutes of her observing you, she seems satisfied and steps off the podium.

"Nice figure, no disturbing features. Now lets see how well you can actually do if you were a model." She says with a sadistic grin. Before you can even say anything, your changed into a seemingly random outfit.

A bright pink blazer with black feathers and a white boa, white ripped jeans with black combat boots. She lets out a disappointed click of her tongue. "Next." She says, changing you into another outfit.

This goes on for about another hour, change clothes, she looks, either hates it or its good but not good enough, repeat. You take the time to study her as she does this, finding something about her vaguely familiar but not being able to quite put your finger on it.

As you look at her more she suddenly stands up and points at you. "That. That's the outfit, that's the perfect one." She says, as you look down at the outfit your wearing, the thing most catching your eyes being a pair of shoes you definitely cannot walk in.

"Go on walk around in a circle let me see it, strut for me." She says, going closer to the podium, a grin on her face.

Not wanting to lose this opportunity and anger her further, seeing how she took it out on the last model, you take the risk and begin walking clumsily around the podium.

She looks you up and down as you stumble around like a drunk, trying not to fall on your face. She doesn't seem very happy with how your walking but seems satisfied enough.

After a couple minutes, when you feel like your knees are about to buckle she stops you. "Okay I think we are done with this portion, step off and we will get to the next step."

You breath a sigh of relief, as you go over to the edge where she is. You attempt to step off, but then your legs finally decide to give out and you tumble forward into her.

The two of you fall backwards, you landing on her as her back is on the floor. You instantly knew you fucked up.

Shes looking at you, extremely mad, but then she takes a minute and it falls. You two stare at each other for a moment, when you begin to start realizing who she is, but cant place it yet.

"Whats your name..." She asks, and you stare at her, confused. When you don't respond she pushes you off quickly and harshly and speed walks over to your packet that she had thrown earlier.

You scramble up as she harshly grabs it, flipping through it furiouly.

In that moment it comes to you, where you remember her from, and at the exact same moment, she lands on the first page, with your name on it. She looks up at you slowly and you two make eye contact.

"....Velvette...?" You ask, shakily.

She just stares at you for a moment before running over and grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pulling you towards her. pulling a yelp from you.

She just stares into your eyes for a second, while you pant. After a moment, her expression softens, and she quietly says; "Is... it really you...?" she asks. You voice caught in your throat, tears filling your eyes, you nod.

She grabs you and pulls you into a kiss, and without hesitation you return it. The two of you stumble onto a couch. Your back lands on it, her above you.

You two just stare at each others eyes, before she looks up for a moment, wiping the tears pooling in her eyes. She leans back down, resting her forehead against yours, and she closes her eyes, you two embracing tightly, not letting each other go.

"Fuck I've missed you."

<3————————————————————-Ɛ>

A/N: Okay, so I tried a different style of writing and I hope I did well, I tried my best on this, and I'm so so sorry if its not the best or what was asked. Also, I'm thinking about making the two girls and the guy in the van reoccurring side characters in stories like this (just for a bit more plot and blah blah) and I need names for them, so if anybody could leave suggestions in the comments that would be a great help! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Another sagau reader hearing someone insulting characters and going apeshit but when someone insults reader are like "......hmm shodul I drink hot chocolate or tea today?" This time ganyu( becose I still pissed at one guy who insulted her i her own story quest) bennet and nilou (another chance to make azar feel terror)

COMING RIGHT UP, ANON. THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING OMG 💀 I have been too dead without these requests, fr.

Click Me For Part 1!

When Someone Insults Ganyu, Bennett, and Nilou vs When Someone Insults Reader...

(Disclaimers: Might Be OOC, Mentions of Violence, & Quest/Genshin Impact Lore Spoilers!)

Ganyu

Okay, first of all: Yes, I am adding that stupid idiot cough Xin Cheng cough into this.

You were just following the Traveler and Paimon, joining Ganyu's Story Quest which, for some reason, was not completed yet. So, you decided to tag along to see Ganyu!

You weren't hyped when that beggar came out of nowhere and started to do all that fairytale stuff even you don't approve of—and you were someone that sticks themselves into your own head, thank you very much.

So when this man started to gain the audacity to insult Ganyu, you knew you had to step up and do something. No one, and you quite mean it, was going to insult her and get away with it.

"Hey!" You came out from your hiding spot (you're the Almighty Creator, you know it'll make the situation worse). "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, huh?"

Xin Cheng pales at the sight of your enraged figure. He stutters to make an excuse, but you cut him off. You're having none of it.

"Get your useless self out of here, before I decide to kick it down the mountains myself!"

To say that Ganyu was shocked that you were getting angry over a mortal was an understatement. She was beyond surprised that you even stood up for her.

But she did have to intervene with your threatening—after all, she is still an Adeptus. Protecting the people of Liyue was still her duty.

"Your Grace...Please let him go. I'm sure he already understands his mistake." Ganyu's soft voice only made your anger increase—she sounded so upset!

"Y-yes, please, Your Grace! I understand what I've done wrong, I—"

"Silence." You glare down at the mortal. Your turn back to Ganyu, and considered your choices. While you wanted to wreck absolute vengeance on this man, you also didn't want to hurt Ganyu's feelings more.

Guess you were going down Trauma Lane, then. You sigh, and stomp your feet as you turn around to glare at Xin Cheng, catching his petite form by surprise.

"If I ever see you do this again..." Your eyes narrow. "Believe me when I say it—you will be granted no mercy by any adeptus nor Rex Lapis himself. Now SCRAM!" With that, he was running for the hills. You weren't entirely satisfied, but you'll take it. For now.

What would Happen if Ganyu heard you get insulted? Well, first of all, she would gasp quietly to herself. What was this blasphemy? She's utterly horrified.

Ganyu thinks she might faint once she realizes you were nearby, checking out vendor goods next to where the gossipers were spilling terrible insults of your image.

"Y-Your Grace! Please accept my apology on behalf of the people of Liyue." Will literally run up to you and apologize for them. While she may not be the one who did it, she's still cares about the People of Liyue—and thus her reasoning as to why she's askign for the mercy of the Almighty Creator.

Your puzzled look turns to Ganyu. "Who are you apologizing for?" Ganyu blinks.

"The, uhm—the gossipers..?" You're still confused, until your eyes shine once recognition hits you like Truck-Kun.

"Ohhh, those dudes! Yeah, don't worry about them—they're pretty boring, saying the same thing like a broken record. Say—wanna shop with me? I'm paying, of course."

And that's how you got Ganyu to be more comfortable around you! :D

Bennett

Ah, our unlucky yet optimistic adventurer! This boy—he is good. He's cool, and he's rather awed by most of the kids in Mondstadt.

He was hanging out with Razor and Fischl when someone decides to insult him. this genuinely upsets him—after all, they were insulting his ability and his position in the Adventurer's Guild...

Already, Razor and Fischl were already up to defend him, but what they didn't expect is for the Almighty Creator (aka you) got to it first.

"I beg your pardon," you say through gritted teeth. "How exactly is having a bad luck aura got to do with ANYTHING related to being an adventurer?" You're glaring so many daggers you could practically say you were breaking all the walls. "Perhaps we'll see just how lucky you are when I send you to Dragon Spine and watch your dead corpses FREEZE TO DEATH?"

The insulters were paling the more you went on. Razor and Fischl aren't sure what to do—you're already there, dealing with the situation.

But Bennett? Well uh, like usual, his bad luck got the best of him, and he accidentally stumbles towards you (miraculously). He bumps into you, and you shift your gaze onto him.

"Uh—Sorry, Your Grace! I really didn't mean to bump into you, I swear!" Poor guy is scared because his bad luck affected him at the worst time of all. He thinks he might get killed.

You though? Oh, hell nah. Your gaze already soften, and you decided to show favoritism! You pull the boy into a hug, glaring at the insulters one more time as a warning to scram, before you go back to enjoying giving the boy affection!

But when Bennett hears you get insulted? Well, first of all, screw his bad luck because the insulters were quite literally telling him how bad of a Creator you were!

He immediately tries to avoid getting too deep into the discussion, trying to sway the topic elsewhere to no avail, and he pales when he realizes you were literally a few steps away from them!

And it seems his bad luck gets in the way again, because you just turned right as he was staring at you with shocked eyes!

However, instead of being mad, you were actually beaming when you see him. You wave at Bennett, smiling.

"Bennett! Help me choose some flowers, yeah?"

"Uhm—uh, Sure, Your Grace!"

And that's how the insulters were hiding in their homes for the rest of their lives as you merrily dragged Bennett out of that horrendous conversation.

Nilou

Honestly, do I need to say who decided to insult this amazing dancer?

Yes, it was fricking Azar again. What is up with this crazy old man, nobody knows. Perhaps you should put him in prison for a while until he's gained a sense of appreciation for the Arts. ALL of the Arts.

Apparently, when you had drilled fear into this man, he thought it only applied to flipping Nahida. As much as you love Nahida, you are not going to have Azar twists your words and make it seem like you grant him permission to snark down other people—especially the people of Zubayr Theater.

So when Azar finally decides to have scholars gain the nerve to insult Nilou on behalf of his stupid brain, you (of course) just had to get yourself involved with this.

"Excuse me, but since when did you have the audacity to judge someone else's profession of art, simply because it isn't 'academic' in any way?" You spat. "Where I come from, Art courses are necessary in order to move on in your academic life." When Nilou hears you, she, first of all, is grateful of you stepping up for her, and, second of all, very scared of what might be happening next.

The scholars pale, but they seem to have taken your comment as a debate.

"With all due respect, Your Grace, the Arts are anything but educational—"

"Was I looking for a second opinion, dimwit?" You narrow your eyes. "Besides, have you yourself ever tried the Art of Dancing or the Art of Music before?"

"Well—uhm, no, but—"

"Then shut up, then." The scholars begin to panic as your voice becomes low and dangerous. "You don't have an excuse to be judgmental if you haven't even tried this stuff yourself."

"Ex-Sage Azar told us to say this!" They blurt out, and that only increases your rage. Seeing that things might escalate, Nilou steps in.

"Your Grace, let's not be too harsh!" She exclaims, waving her hands frantically. "I'm sure they understand what they did wrong. There's no need to have them punished." You narrowed your eyes in disagreement, for a half second, Nilou thought she made the situation worse.

But when you sigh heavily, she knew you relented. You glare at the scholars again.

"Tell Azar if he does this again, to ANYONE, I'll cut his head off, and there's no more excuses there. In fact—bring me to him. I'll have a talk with him myself."

Yeah, Azar got traumatized again :)

But when Nilou hears you be insulted? Quite literally behind your back? She thought she was going to faint from the gossiper's comments alone! You being there to listen it to it all only made her feel worse.

She was about to confront them, until she saw other people nearby dealing with the situation. So, Nilou decides to check up and see if you were okay...After all, those comments weren't nice.

She was pretty shocked when she realized you were contemplating over wares instead, completely unbothered by the drama going on behind your back. Nevertheless, she was still going to apologize in case you were just hiding your emotions.

"Uhm, Your Grace—I would like to apologize on behalf of all of Zubayr Theater. We should've done something earlier." You look at her, confused.

"What are you apologizing for, Nilou?" You ask. She blinks.

"Uhm, the gossipers, Your Grace..?" Your eyes widen, before you bark a laugh.

"Oh, those dudes! Yeah—don't worry about them, honestly. Say—help me pick: should I get hot chocolate or tea from this lovely store?"

Let's just say you had a fun time hanging out with Nilou for the rest of the afternoon :)

AND THAT'S IT! WE ARE DONE! I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE AND TAKING 30+ YEARS TO FINISH THIS, BUT IT'S HERE! :D I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: To anyone who's waiting for The Lost Shining God of Celestia, yes I have been writing on it. However, due to personal life problems and other IRL circumstances, it's taking a little longer than expected. I am sorry, everyone!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[neteyamlover69]

OKAY I LOVED THE AO'NUNG THING SM IT WAS SO FUNNY BUT LIKE IMAGINE NETEYAM BEING THE BIGGEST SIMP EVER AND HE'S SO OBVIOUS AND DDRAMATIC jUSUDNEJSK

atwow characters social media specials

i’m so sorry this took longer than expected

special mentions ; @eywas-heir

series masterlist

LMFOAHRKFBF

as always thank you for the support on these series

please send an ask if u have a request on this series im down to do anything but please mind my rules :)

uhm i’m so sorry if im posting so slow i burn out really fast if i do too much in a short span of time

taglist;🏷 —im sorry if i can’t tag u 😭🖤

@casiia @nao-cchi @melaninsugababy @zatarias-pandora @abbersreads @tiajk @brooklynscherry-z @cyndiswrldddd @neteyamsgirll @luvlykrispy @sunny-nana @cyborgciderman2 @azleberry @simp-for-fictional-people @junnniiieee07 @icreatedthisaccjusttopostavatar @yongi-lee @vio-lente @pinkpantheris @neteyamsbaefy @lexasaurs634 @sweetlemontart @mxnuilx97 @20fandomfangirl @oyayablog @cupidlot @fuyuji-ii @itsthetiss65 @angelitebby @drugs-for-memes @calums-betch @afro-hispwriter

[angelltheninth]

Blazing Hot Desire

Pairing: Phoenix x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, friends to lovers, kissing, banter, masturbating while being watched, body cum shot, planning a date

Word count: 1.6k

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: Phoenix gets overlooked sometimes and he shouldn't be because he's literally hot.

"Are you still cold?" Phoenix asked while his hands hovered over your shoulders, warming you up slowly. The storm was still raging outside his window. He frowned as he glanced outside, "It's pouring out there. I don't want you to get sick going home in this weather."

"That's sweet of you Jamie, but I'll be fine. Thank you for warming me up, you're a great friend." Calling him a friend was a little awkward. Especially since a few days ago where you both got a little tipsy and ended up making out on his couch.

Neither of you spoke of it. Actually this is the longest you've spent together since that night. And both of you being stripped down to your underwear sure as hell didn't make things any less awkward.

You caught yourself looking over Jamie's muscles, his abs, his big shoulders and hands, his strong thighs more than once. He looked too, oh he looked quite a bit. But every time he did he tried to look away before you noticed.

"Spend the night with me." You turned your head up and looked at him wide eyes and your mouth hanging open, "I mean, because of the rainstorm you know."

Your cheeks were burning up. You needed to get your mind out of the gutter and fast, "Oh, oh yeah. If you're comfortable with it. Thank you."

"Of course. Don't mention it. Stay here, I'll get you something to wear. It's pretty warm in here but I don't want you to catch a cold sleeping only in your underwear. Not that you don't look good in it just... you know." He sheepishly scratched the back of his head, his mouth frowning in a shy, embarrassed way.

The shirt he gave you was a little big on your, not only did the sleeves go past your fingertips, but the hem of it went over your thighs, almost to your knees.

"That's one of my favorites by the way. Do you like it?" You gave him a warm smile and pulled the shirt to your nose, feeling it's softness and warmth. It also smelled a bit like cinnamon and ashes and pine. Very Jamie. He chuckled, "I'll take that as a yes."

"Yes. It's very comfy. Thank you. But what about you? Will you be uhm..." You blushed a little as he sat with his legs folded under him, his knees touching yours. He made a little 'hmm' noise, "Are you also gonna put on something more... loose? That... doesn't look comfortable." You glanced toward his croch then away towards his closet.

"Eh?" You visibly saw him stiffen upright as his eyes slowly descended downwards. His cock as rock hard, staring in the front of his pants, twitching when he looked at it. "I'm so sorry!" He covered the spot with his hands, "You see, you're wearing my shirt but you're also mostly naked? So it's... you're really attractive and pretty and hot, so there's not much I can do. It's a normal... uh... I'm sorry! I'll go take a shower if it's making you uncomfortable."

His voice was trembling as he talked, his shoulders even more so. You realized that he was scared. Slowly you reached toward his hands and moved them aside, but left your own hand hovering inches from his bulge, "Okay?"

"What?" He blinked at you, confused like he wasn't sure what you were asking, "Uh..." He licked his lips, "Y-Yeah. If you... oh!" He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes when you cupped your hand around the head, squeezing and releasing, massaging him through his tight gray boxers.

"Don't be embarrassed. You could never make me uncomfortable Jamie. I actually thought I was the one making you uncomfortable. I was the one who kissed you first that night, and then you pulled me into your lap and..." Your eyes closed at the lovely memory. You felt the hard cock give a needy twitch in your hand, "I should have been honest with you."

"We both should have been." He inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes almost black with lust, "Can I kiss you now? Properly."

"Yes." You respond a little breathless as he leans forward and presses his warm, soft lips over yours, pushing, testing and asking. You answer him by opening your mouth and groaning as his tongue flicks over and around yours.

You inched your fingers down his clothed shaft and into the band of his underwear. His abs flexed at the ghostlike touch, "Hold up doll."

"What?" Both of you pulled away, but still stayed inches from each other, lips barely touching, breathing over each other, lips puffy from the kiss.

"I want to watch you. I want to see how you touch yourself when you think about me. Because I think about you a lot." His confessed words fell over you like a blazing fire, igniting a pool of warmth and pressure between your legs.

You a little bit away from him and hiked up the shirt he have you, revealing your bra clad breasts. "I thought about you a lot too." You watched as his eyes followed your hand as it descended across your breasts, across your stomach and disappear into your panties.

With a small whimper you spread your legs further for easier access, running the pad of your finger over your clit in slow, small, tight circles.

Jamie gulped hard, his eyes fixated on the movement of your hand, the flick of your wrist, the way your breasts heaved with every breath, the sound of your moans and ragged breathing. He couldn't just stand by and watch, mostly because his cock was straining so much it hurt.

Within seconds he pulled his boxers off, hissing as the air hit his sensitive cockhead, his hand closing around the thick length. "Look at what you do to me. Sometimes when we're done with training I need to take a long cold shower just to keep it down, and even then I needed to jack off. Fuck. It hurt to wait to do it." His eyes fluttered closed for just a moment, his mind shifting to you, sweaty from practice, your workout clothes clinging to your body. "I can't hold it anymore."

"Then don't." Your voice is broken by a loud gasp. You slide your fingers through your wet folds once before you take your hand out of your panties, letting Jamie see how wet your fingers are as you took off your panties and spread your folds apart, slowly inserting one finger inside yourself. "I'm certainly not going to."

"Oh fuck." He started stroking in the rhythm of your hand moving, his hand smearing his cum from the tip to his balls, the obscene sounds increasing with each stroke. "I bet you'd feel so warm on my cock."

You chuckle, and insert another finger, "And here I though you'd never talk dirty."

"There's a lot you still don't know about me love. I'm more then happy show you." He points his cock toward you and scoots up a little bit closer, "Have you ever been covered in cum?"

Your eyes widen, looking from his eyes to his aching cock, "No." Your voice was almost a whimper, "If it's you though, I'd be willing to try it."

"Good because... I'm about to explode." Maybe a bit of a poor choice of words considering his powers. It wasn't a few seconds later that you realized that he wasn't really kidding. He came with a broken growl, stroking himself furiously while he covered your stomach and thighs with his cum.

It was really warm on your skin, and so fucking hot to see him lost in so much passion and lust for you that he couldn't contain it anymore. Neither could you.

You felt your inner walls clench around your fingers, thrusting deeper, curling them upwards and pressing the palm of your hand against your clit and your other hand under your bra to pinch your nipple between your fingers as your body shook and convulsed with wave after wave of your orgasmic high.

Jamie leaned his sweaty forehead on your shoulder, his breathing still deep, his hands smoothing over your thighs, spreading his cum over them, warming you up even more.

You sighed when you pulled your fingers out and while still wet you ran them over his abs, dipping and scratching at them. "I think we should go on a date."

"Yeah? A little backwards don't you think?" He puffs warm air against your skin, his tongue darting out to briefly lick your sweat, "But I'd be a liar if I said I haven't thought about it. Where do you wanna go?"

"Anywhere really. Maybe a picnic? We can make the food together." You leaned to press a soft, slow kiss on his Adam's apple and then to his jaw. "Maybe to some other things in the kitchen as well."

"Oh." You feel him smile against your ear, his slightly sharp teeth biting into the lobe and tugging, "So you're into that kind of stuff. Dirty girl." His voice was low, husky, downright sinful in your ears.

"Oh my god." Your cunt clenched around nothing suddenly needed to be fill again, but not by your fingers this time, "Say that again."

"Dirty girl. I had no idea you were like this. What would you say if I laid you onto the table, spread your legs apart, and ate you for dessert." He flicked his tongue across the sensitive area of your neck as a little demonstration. By the end of the night there wasn't a part of your body that he left unexplored and not a surface where he didn't explore it on.

[strawbby-shortcake]

✯ Showing Fight Club Characters Memes ✯[all gn! reader]

❀ Marla ❀ You and Marla were sitting inside the laundry mat waiting for some careless person to leave their clothes behind. The two of you rarely hung out or spoke, but when you did, it was to steal jeans and sell them. Marla used the money for cigarettes and you used it for snacks. It was sort of like "bonding time" between you and her. Not that Marla would admit that- or you.

She was getting restless waiting, and she didn't have any cigarettes on her, so she needed a distraction.

"Hey, show me something funny," Marla said, resting her head on your shoulder.

You glanced at her messy hairdo and chuckled.

"Sure," you replied.

You got out your phone and starting scrolling through your gallery. A meme that you made of Jack sleeping popped up. Marla's eyes widened and she started to laugh. She laughed for a while until she had a coughing fit.

"Maybe you should quit smoking," murmured.

"Over my dead body."

✭ Jack ✭

Jack was dozing off in his office cubicle, as usual. You were his co-worker and thought he could use a funny photo to look at while attempting to stay awake.

"Excuse me?" you whispered, gently nudging him.

"Wha-! Huh?" Jack jerked awake and looked around frantically.

"Woah, take it easy. It's just me."

Jack looked at you wearily and rolled his eyes. He was always in such a terrible mood. To be honest, he looked like he hadn't slept at all. Maybe that's why he's irritable.

You showed him a cat meme on your phone, "Here, I thought you could use a nice laugh today!"

He stared at the photo blankly, but didn't give you a response.

"Uhm... okay then, see you tomorrow," you said, quickly exiting his area.

✦ Robert "Bob" Paulson ✦ It was another full house at the testicular cancer support groups. You didn't understand why you were there. Maybe you were curious. A big man with an even bigger chest made his way towards you. His name tag said "BOB" in bold letters.

As soon as he got within two feet of you, he enveloped you in a bear hug. He smelled oddly of a mixture of sweat, perfume, and wood. You were being crushed, but patted him on the back since he was sobbing. Maybe because of his testicular cancer, or he got it removed. Either way, he was in dire need of cheering up.

"Hey, do you want to see something funny?" you asked.

Bob looked at you with teary eyes and nodded.

You showed him a meme from your gallery and he laughed slightly. You were about to put you phone away when he suddenly starting swiping from over your shoulder. Personal pictures, tax documents, the whole sha-bang. Bob saw it all. Did he care? Probably not. He just wanted to scroll.

⍟ Angel Face ⍟

You and Angel Face met at Lou's Tavern one evening. He was a simple-minded guy, seemed to be the highlight of everyone's night, and was easy-going. You two had run out of things to talk about, so you decided to show him a meme from your gallery.

"Oh, what's this?" he questioned.

"It's just a silly picture I saved."

He snatched your phone from your hands and looked at it closely. You tried to grab it back but he jumped away from you.

"What's your deal, man?" you fumed, "that's my phone."

"I'm just trying to get a better look at it!" Angel Face whined.

You sighed and shook your head, there was no use in trying to get it back at this point.

✴ Tyler Durden ✴

Tyler was working on his famous pink soap- the "yardstick of civilization," as he would call it. Lots of high end stores bought from him. He never told you the secret ingredient though.

He'd been silent for quite some time, only humming once in a while or whistling. You decided, like any good friend should, to interact with him and show him some memes.

"Tyler, hey man, wanna see something funny?" you asked.

You poked him in the shoulder a few times before he pushed your hand off.

He took his cigarette from his mouth and paused his soap making.

"What do you want?"

"I was trying to show you something, jerk face," you replied.

Tyler didn't even bothering looking up, he just continued to fiddle with glycerin. You guess that his reaction was to be suspected since he never really listened to you in the first place.

You sighed, "Whatever."

[END]

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 3 – You Know You're On My Mind

⛸️ Summary: Would you rather A) represent Seoul at the Spring Championship, B) find the answer as to why Mingi was ignoring you or C) stay in your shared flat for the winter holidays? How smart of you to go with option D) none of the above.

⛸️ Genres/Tropes: College AU, non-idol AU, rivals to lovers but it's more like one-sided resentment, hockey AU, figure skating AU, angst!!!

⛸️ Warnings/Tags: Female reader, no use of (Y/N), explicit language, brief alcohol consumption, petnames (princess, beans), a lot of tears and crying, probably incorrect use of hockey terms, fist fight, blood, verbal fight, Mingi is really mean but also aware he's being a douche, Dasom is a good friend, more side characters!!!

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.6K

⛸️ Author's note: I freaking love angst 😈 Hence why I've looked forward to the third part of Cold Hands, Warm Hearts! A warning, I have absolutely ZERO knowledge about hockey so the things you'll read concerning the hockey game may or may not be wrong idk. I've tried watching a lot of hockey games on YouTube, but they move so fucking fast I can barely wrap my head around what's happening lmaooo.

I also wanted to write my own comments for the chapter (something I should have done since the first part tbh), but I've been home with a fever for some days now and I honestly can barely sit up, let alone write extra stuff so I'm sadly skipping out on that. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this part and don't be shy to tell me your thoughts 🩷

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is NSFW and not appropriate for minors as it contains explicit scenes, not just sexual content but descriptions of both physical and verbal fights,  as well as adult language. Minors and ageless blogs, please, refrain from reading or interacting with this work or my blog!!!

December 9th, 2024. 

The day was marked in Mingi’s little red calendar he kept away in his backpack — not that he needed the reminder, the day was practically burned into his mind — and the fanciest suit he owned was ironed three nights prior with the help of his best friend and roommate, Jeong Yunho. One would think it was an important day — as to explain why he woke up at a presentable hour with enough time to spare for a few errands and a brunch with his roommate — an exam determining his final grade or something to do with his hockey, but no it was just the day of your competition. 

Currently sitting in a sandwich shop, thumbs twirling and eyes set on the flower shop across the street, Mingi contemplated whether bringing a bouquet  — maybe roses or those tulips, they were quite popular nowadays — would be too much or not at all. The two parts of his brain clashed and before he could make a decision Yunho came back with their orders, a teriyaki chicken sandwich for Mingi while he ordered something nasty looking with a really fancy and long name that Mingi couldn’t bother remembering. 

“There you go.” Yunho settled in the seat across Mingi and dove right into his food, letting out a moan of approval. “Best sandwich in town, no kidding.”

“Do girls like flowers?”

Caught mid bite, cheeks coated with crumbs and mayonnaise, Yunho looked up at Mingi who already had his eyes set on him with a seriousness that rarely outshone his happy and goofy exterior. 

“Uhm, I suppose. I mean the girls I’ve given flowers to liked the gesture. Why? You looking to impress someone, Mings?” A teasing smile quirked at the edge of his lips. “Is it a quick fuck?”

“Dude?!” Mingi hissed and quickly threw a glance around the room making sure no one overheard their convo and labeled them as creeps.

“Oh, come on, we’ve talked about worse things than some sex deets.”

“It was a simple question, Yunho-ya. Do flowers equal happy girls? Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.”

Sensing this wasn’t a topic Mingi was all too keen to talk about, Yunho gave him some space and took another bite of his sandwich. Then he remembered their conversation three days ago and how Mingi begged him to help him iron his suit and teach him how to properly handle a tie, and if that wasn’t enough of a reason then he could always use the we’ve-been-friends-since-diapers card and pry whatever information he wanted out of him.

“Is this about that figure skating girl?”

“Absolutely not… Do you think she’d like roses or tulips?”

Mouth full of bacon, tomato, lettuce and bread, Yunho mumbled out a barely audible answer. “Roses. Definitely roses.”

“I’m just saying if Hyunjin brings you roses I’ll jump in front of the ice resurfacer!” 

Keeho laid flat on your bed, legs dangling in the air and chin propped on both palms as his eyes burned holes on your back. While rummaging through your closet you threw a random shirt over your shoulder, purposely aiming it at him and you knew it was a success as he let out a surprised ‘ack’.

“That’s what you get for being noisy,” Dasom chirped and rolled over him, her feet hitting your pillow and arms reaching the end of your bed.

“You guys promised to help me pack! I’m so going to be late.” 

An empty duffel bag sat on your bed beside the entanglement of limbs that were your friends. Despite waking up a whole twelve hours before your planned departure, you were running late or would be if you didn’t leave in the next fifteen minutes.

“Fine, but I’m just helping because I know you’ll make it big one day and I can use it to be a multimillionaire influencer. Yoon Keeho, best friend of the South Korean Olympic figure skater. It has a nice ring to it, no?”

Another shirt hit him in the face, this one coming straight out of the dirtied piles of clothes in the corner.

“No more throwing shirts!”

“Up we go, Kyo.” 

Dasom repositioned to sit criss-crossed in front of your bag and began neatly placing necessary things inside; towel, spare change of clothes, bobby pins, hairspray, your skates. 

“Where’s your suit?” She asked while zipping the bag.

“My coach still has it. Something about seeing it before the comp would bring bad luck or whatever. Like it’s a competition not a wedding and Keeho, get out I need to change.”

“I bet a round of lamb skewers Hyunjin is proposing after the comp– I’m leaving, I’m leaving, put that down!”

As the door closed you quickly stripped and threw on a sweatsuit bearing the logo of Tiny University printed on the front and back. Knowing you were practically working on autopilot while your nerves skyrocketed, Dasom didn’t want to step out of bounds and send you into a potential spiral of panic and stress but she was also very curious, and her greed won over her morals. With a soft call of your name she asked the million dollar question. 

“Did you only invite Hyunjin?”

You froze with your hands in your hair, a bobby pin between your fingers and an extra in your mouth as your gaze fell on her. Flashing you a derpy yet reassuring smile that warmed you up like the sun on a summer afternoon filled with sugary strawberries and pink lemonade. 

“No… Not just Hyunjin, I actually invited Mingi too, but I… don’t know why.” 

You plopped down beside her and played with your fingers. It all felt so silly and you didn’t even have the time to think about him or Hyunjin or anything boy related overall. Not that it was a bad thing, in fact it was great, but that meant your mind was completely occupied of nailing your choreo, imaging everything that could go wrong and to not let anything go fucking wrong. 

“Maybe it just felt right,” she whispered, as if the words were made of steel and you were of twigs that would break at the slightest contact.

Sighing, you nodded and fell back on your bed with Dasom in tow. There wasn’t much left to say. You couldn’t remember what drunk-you thought when inviting Mingi nor did you want to know. All you knew was that your heart did that little leap thing before violently kicking at your rib cage when he said he’d be there and that was concerning but not more so than your competition taking place in a few hours. 

If Mingi showed up, great.

If he didn’t then that was great too, is what you forced yourself into believing.

Mingi stood before a body-length mirror and kept running his hand through his neatly made hair. Yunho placed a palm over Mingi’s shoulder and the shifting motion immediately subdued only to proceed as the hand withdrew. 

“Stop moving around dude, you’re making me nervous!” 

Taking a step back, Yunho quietly assessed Mingi, searching for creases in his black suit or stray hairs standing up funny. There were no faults, his tall friend — that was still slightly shorter than himself — looked perfect appearance wise. It was the slight twitch of his finger and sweat collecting at the nape of his neck that gave him away.

“Why are you so nervous, Mingi-ya? It’s just a figure skating competition, nothing more nothing less.”

Taking a hold of the perfectly wrapped bouquet of heart-colored roses he paid a good penny for, Mingi pouted and shrugged his shoulders as if a toddler being put on the spot for doing something bad.

 “I don’t know.”

“You want me to come with?”

Yunho, dressed in an old tattered shirt and bright red basketball shorts with his naturally dark hair growing at the roots and taking on the look of pudding, was ready to drop everything and jump in his brand new suit planned for their graduation if that’s what Mingi needed.

“No, no. I’ll be fine, it’s just… Don’t you think it’s too much? Flowers, a suit? It’s a figure skating competition not a wedding.”

“Does it matter? Personally, if it were me, I’d rather see the girl I invited put in the effort even if it means wearing nice clothes over something raggedy. This shows you care.”

“I guess…”

Mingi jumped as Yunho reassuringly landed his hands on his shoulders, giving him an encouraging squeeze and smiling so his cheeks puffed up. “Come on, let’s get that tie fixed and then I’ll give you a lift.”

“Ah, the privileges of not having a driver’s license.”

“You mean the privileges of being a passenger princess?”

“Yah, Yunho-ya!” Came the whine as Mingi followed his friend like a kicked puppy on a rainy Monday morning. 

The arena was packed and while it wasn’t an unusual sight for Mingi — always being a witness of how the bleachers slowly filled up during his warm ups —  it was weird seeing it from an outside perspective. Everything seemed so much smaller and compact compared to when he was on the ice squinting past the blinding headlights to barely even catch a glimpse of the audience. Other than practice and hockey game, Mingi had no reason to visit the arena. There was no other sport that piqued his interest enough to stand in line, pay an overpriced entry fee and freeze his ass off on a plastic chair. He’d usually just enter through the changing rooms and skip all that yet there he was, all glammed up and standing behind a family wearing shirts with the name of some random chick printed in big bold letters. 

Thinking about it, Mingi couldn’t actually give less of a fuck about figure skating and months ago he didn’t care who represented Seoul or if they were even capabale to compete with the other cities. 

“All my friends are going to be there.”

“Nice friends you have.”

“We are friends,” you said matter-of-factly, your ‘S’ coming out with a lisp. “Alllll my friends are going.”

“You want me to come to your competition princess?”

“You’ll come?!”

You slinked your arm through his and squished it against your chest, cheek pressed to his bicep as you looked at him. One would believe Mingi hung up each and every single star individually in your name for you to look at him that way.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I’ll be there.”

It was your stupid yet endearing eyes that did it all. The little shining glint that completely vexed him and before he knew it, the promise slipped off his tongue and was spoken into existence. Mingi didn’t get to indulge more in the memory of the beauty that was your face as the lights dimmed and an enthusiastic voice boomed through the speakers, welcoming everyone and announcing the start of the preliminary that would determine the female representative of Seoul at the annual Spring Championship. 

Honestly, Mingi didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t know a lot of things; how long this would be, what time your performance would start, was he supposed to find you after or before they announced the winner? It also didn’t help that he was sweating through his dress shirt despite the freezing temperature inside. 

Performance after performance passed and he was yet to catch sight of you. Honestly speaking, Mingi was growing impatient. The numbers weren’t anything extraordinary — he had seen you do much better even when ending on your rear — and he wasn’t here to watch some mediocre ladies flip around to classical music. The weight of his phone burned in his suit pocket and he was itching to reach for it. He was three taps away from dialing Yunho and making the taller man pick him up again. Oblivious to the curious and soft eyes peering at the bouquet in his lap, Mingi stared at the ice rink with a far away look on his face and bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“Those are beautiful,” a voice came from his left. It was comforting and full of kindness. 

Snapping his head towards the person, Mingi faced a woman looking old enough to be his mom. The compliment pulled at the corners of his lips and soon a full blown boxy smile took over his face as his eyes creased into crescent moons. 

“Thank you.”

Mingi contemplated whether to hand her the darned flowers and leave while you still hadn’t caught sight of him, that way his money wouldn’t go to waste and the flowers wouldn’t end up in the bin outside the venue.

“I’m Chaeryeong’s mom.”

“Song Mingi,” he curtly answered with a little bow of his head.

“Are those for your girlfriend?”

As kind as this woman looked she sure was twice the amount noisy.

“No, they are for a… friend. She’s competing today.”

“Oh, when is she up?”

At the sight of his uncertainty, she handed Mingi a pamphlet with several numbers followed by first- and last names of the competitors. Quickly scanning the sheet of paper he landed on your name in last place and with the twenty-ninth performer taking her starting pose right as Mingi looked back up again. The urge to squish his face against the pamphlet was immense. 

“She’s last.”

“Oh! That’s Hoseok’s kid. She’s amazing and if it weren’t for my Chaeryeongie I’d root for her.”

Pride swelled in his chest and heat nipped at his cheeks. He tried suppressing the fond smile forcing its way out but failed.

“It’s actually my first time watching her perform but yeah, she’s pretty… p-pretty cool!”

“Really? Well, it’s better late than never.”

Why Mingi was getting flustered was beyond him. Not wanting to think about it and eventually fall down a rabbit hole he always did when thinking of you, he nodded and took the praise with the lady leaving a pat on his shoulder.

“Mmm, you’re smiling! Are you sure she’s just a friend?”

Mingi lowered his chin and avoided the teasing eyes of Chaeryeong’s mom. No way was he talking about girl problems with a random lady at a figure skating competition. 

“Would you spare my seat? I just need to go to the restroom.”

“Of course, son.”

With one last bow he ran up the stairs leading to the main hall and straight for the male restroom which  — to his delight  — was empty. Mingi released a breath of unease and stopped by the sink hoping to wash away the sweat collected on his hands. Looking at his reflection in the oblong mirror, he pursed his lips and splashed cold water on his face before lightly slapping his cheeks.

“It’s easy. We hand her the flowers, tell her she did great and then we leave.”

Mingi couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous over talking to a girl. Thinking about it, he talked to you all the time. Yes, most of it was hidden behind jokes and teasing remarks, but it still counted as talking.

“Welcoming our last performer of the night…”

The booming voice of the announcer echoed through the whole building and with a quick ‘shit’ falling from his lips, Mingi dried his hands off his expensive pants and ran back into the arena receiving weird stares from other people, but he wasn’t about to miss the start of your performance after waiting for over two hours. In sync with you gliding out on the ice he flew past the double doored entrance and caught himself on the metal railing. Mingi realized there was no need to go back to his previous spot, not when he had a great view of the whole ice rink from where he stood and a great look of you posing in the middle, one arm elegantly thrown over your head and the other following the length of your figure and stopping midthigh.

Stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, angelic, breathtaking, enchanting, marvelous and other adjectives wouldn’t do the justice to describe how truly captivating you looked. 

The first thing that caught his attention was your costume. It was a long sleeved dress transitioning from dark to light blue with sparkly beads going down your chest, across your abdomen and arms in a tilted motion as if the foam of multiple waves. Your costume had a tiny skirt which Mingi was sure would swirl prettily when pirouetting and twirling in the air. The upper part of your dress took on the shape of a heart and went down your back in a v-form leaving your collars, shoulders and back completely exposed. Your hair was styled in a sturdy updo matching the elegance of your suit and while Mingi couldn’t see your make-up, he assumed it would reflect the colors of your dress and accentuate your facial features in just the right way.

The starting notes of your chosen song erupted from the speakers and Mingi’s breath got caught in his throat as you glided across the ice, his heart beating in rhythm to your every landed jump. You moved with grace and for once the teasing nickname he reserved just for you had no malice objective behind it. You surrendered yourself to the music and allowed it to guide you, your body resembled the elements of nature and became an entity that was no longer your own. Moving like the ripples of a wind, flowing and rising as though you were water yet curving fiercely as a controlled fire and flourishing like a sunflower yearning for light.

It was beautiful. You were beautiful. 

Mingi would rather have spent two hours watching you skate than those other amateurs and he was slightly bitter your number only lasted for four minutes. 240 seconds of no breathing or thinking, just existing to admire you as if you were a painting exhibited in the most famous art museum in the world.

As you were entering the last moments of your performance, the music picked up and you mentally prepared yourself to do the main stunt. There was no turning back now and with confidence pumping in your veins, you inhaled and propelled yourself off the ice. Time slowed down and magically you could somehow hear the amazed gasps of the audience. Your body spun, and spun and spun and you felt the start of gravity doing its work. As if caught in a sense of Déjà Vu, the sharp point of your skates chipped the ice and threw your landing off course, and before you knew it, you landed on the outer side of your thigh. The crowd gasped again, the tone much more horrible than a few seconds ago, and all you wanted to do was continue to lay on the cold surface, but the show was yet to be over. In hopes of saving your score, you recovered with a double-axel which wasn’t nearly as appealing as the one you failed, but at least you landed it.

The performance ended with you posing in the middle — much like you practiced — and waiting for the last piano notes to run out. Despite your big fail the arena erupted in chaos of applause and whistles. Thanking the spectators with three respectful bows — each facing a different side — you skated off the ice with shaky legs and a heart hammering in your ears falling right in the arms of your coach. Mingi didn’t move until you rounded the corner towards the locker rooms and disappeared from his sight. 

A short static echoed in the hall as the AUX was rather harshly unplugged from your phone, making you lose your footing and fall on your ass.

The ice beneath was hard and cold, and it numbed your whole left leg except for the burning pain that flared up in your backside. You had to physically hold back tears as you stood back up on shaky legs.

“Majestic as always, princess, but I’ll have to deduct ten points for that eye captivating fall.” 

A chorus of laughter and gloves pounding against the plexiglas averted your attention for a split second, and the picture of an audience watching wasn’t much of an imagination as the whole hockey team stood by the entrance of the rink. 

Mingi sighed at the memory and stalked back to his seat where the kind family and bouquet of roses waited on him. 

“You missed her performance!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed and handed him the flowers.

Mingi smiled shyly, then scratched the back of his neck. “Ah no, I watched from up there.” He turned and pointed at the spot he was standing in not even thirty seconds ago. “It was a better view so yeah…”

Chaeryeong’s mom smiled tenderly with a knowing gleam in her eyes. “What a relief! You got me worried for a minute but I should’ve known you wouldn’t miss it.”

“She was amazing,” Mingi stated and received a smug look from the woman.

“Mmm, I told you so. It’s a shame she fell. Well, we’re going out for a breather but we’ll be back so please save our seats for us.”

You sat in one of the locker rooms, head in your hands and feet tapping on the floor. The performance couldn’t have been more perfect, all for it to go to shit in the end.

All the hours, sweat and energy put into practice was a waste and you didn’t have to wait for the winner to be announced to know whether it was true or not. It was ironic really, despite being in a competitive sport, you hated the concept of competitions. The idea that there could only be one winner always got to your head like a parasite planting eggs of anxiety. Your number was great, but your fall made the other girls as good if not better and that really got you spiraling. 

Not to mention neither of your parents could make it, the timing clashing with their working schedules besides driving back and forth from your hometown was too exhausting for one day. Keeho and Dasom weren’t there either, occupied with work or school projects making it unreasonable for you to be angry with them. You also didn’t spot Hyunjin or Mingi in the audience which wasn’t that much of a surprise as you could barely make out the people in the front row, but nonetheless, the lack of support was weighing on you. That’s why in these situations, you were so grateful for Mr. Jung. Not only being your coach, but for stepping up as a ten man army of supporters.

A series of knocks snapped you out of your thoughts followed by Mr. Jung’s voice on the other side.

“You ready, star? They are announcing the winner.”

“Oh, look! I think they are announcing the winner!” Chaeryeong’s mom exclaimed as she sat back down in her seat.

The competing figure skaters went back out on the ice in a neat row, all dressed in various shimmering suits creating a palette of multiple colors. The whole crowd quieted down as the announcer asked for silence and simultaneously caught everyone’s attention. Not Mingi’s though, no his eyes were set on you who — together with the other girls — lined up behind the host. 

Hands trembling and breath caught in your throat, you didn’t allow yourself to think of anything. You felt like your head was underwater. It wasn’t scary or suffocating, but not a great feeling either as you couldn’t hear anything clearly thanks to the blood pumping in your ears. Somehow you could make out the distant voice of the man holding the mic, but no words were being registered. Focusing on the white translucent puffs of your short inhales and exhales, you didn’t hear the thick voice announcing the winner. It all happened incredibly fast. One second everyone was at the edge of their seats — you imagined them to be nibbling their nails like in the cartoons — and the next thing you know, the whole arena exploded in cheers. You were so out of it you hadn’t even heard the announcement of the winner. Although it didn’t matter, because a second later the call for a girl who wasn’t you sounded through the speakers as she was welcomed up on the podium. 

“Everyone! A round of applause for Seoul's representative of the Spring Championship 2025!”

You felt yourself sink deeper and deeper into the ocean as a booming wave of applause and whistles scattered around, shaking you to the core. Tears sprung to your eyes and you silently thanked the makeup artist for using waterproof cosmetics, the last thing you needed was for everyone to notice your emotional breakdown. The winner skated up to the host and he rewarded her with a bouquet of various flowers and a sash reading ‘Seoul Representative 2025’ in gold letters. You imagined him to be wishing her good luck and words of encouragement before letting her shine in the light of attention and praise.

After bowing to the girls, judges and audience you skated out of the rink and threw yourself in Mr. Jung’s embrace who patiently waited by the open board door. His heart smile didn’t hold quite reach its natural form and came out more pained than what he’d like to and his creased eyes mirrored your own sad expression. The flashes of a dozen cameras quickly annoyed you as well as the sound of the gadgets going off and you tried your best ignoring them, but each flicker was like a stab to your heart.

You were supposed to be the winner. The camera was supposed to be on you, not on that girl.

“It’s alright, starshine. Winning is not always guaranteed,” he whispered and hugged you tighter as you started crying harder, hot tears soaking his shirt. 

He stayed with you a while inside the locker room. The silence and your occasional sniffles were the only sources of sound, besides the light chattering noise outside. 

“I’m still proud of you.”

The simple sentence brought another fresh set of tears to your eyes and you hung your head in defeat, and slight embarrassment. 

“I know you think it’s not fair and that you should be the winner of tonight's event, but that would have been too easy and that’s just not something life is… We’ll break down and start again.”

Mr. Jung had always been exceptional at shifting between being a serious and humorous coach, but the current words spoken came from someone who had experienced failure before. From one loser to another, his little words of wisdom helped you get on your feet even if you felt like you were at the lowest point of your adult life. It would still take days to get over your disappointing performance, but you’d be alright. With a pat to your head, he ushered you to wash the blue feelings off. 

While you did that, Mingi found himself once again in the bathroom, wet hands combing through strands of hair in an attempt to look less disheveled and more like he had his shit together (he did in fact not have his shit together). He sniffed the collar of his suit jacket and then his armpits, and as he didn’t detect the smell of sweat, but the aroma of his favorite cologne — that smelled of bergamot and lavender — he straightened the jacket and went out to accomplish his mission or rather plan B. 

Instead of congratulating you, like he initially planned to, he’d do something else — and what that was, he had yet to figure out — but from his own experience, he’d known better than to give you praise, especially after losing by a few points. 

Skipping two steps down the stairs, he stopped by the see-through doors instead of continuing down the hallway with several changing rooms. Mingi didn’t know what room you were assigned to and even if he did, he wasn’t planning on barging in while you were possibly getting dressed or showering. The vision of a soapy you sent heat rushing to his head, both of them, but were quickly discarded as you came out. 

You looked different from the girl twirling on the ice minutes ago. Wet hair and dressed in comfy clothes, no fancy make up or extravagant details, but a solemn expression and puffy eyes. It didn’t matter though because you were still beautiful, he thought and fixed his tie out of sheer anxiety, and opened the door. Your name swayed at the tip of his tongue and was just in need of a small push to reach your ears. Eyes entirely focused on you, Mingi missed the boy walking towards him and slinking through the opening created by the taller man.

“Thanks, bud.” Hyunjin didn’t spare Mingi another glance as he headed straight for you. 

At a loss for words and frozen in place, Mingi just watched you fall comfortably in Hyunjin’s arms and as if a masochist he stood rooted and felt his heart squeeze painfully as you melted in his hold, your sobs filling the bleak silence taking residue in Mingi’s head. 

One, two, three and four seconds later, Mingi headed home, hands stuffed in his pockets and roses left in the trashcan by the smoking area outside. Thinking back to it, he should’ve given them to Chaeyeon’s mom — or whatever her name was — at least then they’d be rotting away on someone’s kitchen table and not in a random bin on the streets of Seoul.

Entering the shared apartment with Yunho nowhere in sight — something Mingi was grateful for — he stripped out of the expensive clothes and pushed them to the back of his closet, saving his future-self from a painful reminder of what did and didn’t happen. Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, he knew not to be angry with you, but the other part, the selfish and angry one, put the entire blame on you. If there was one thing hated more than losing, it was to be made into a fool.

“I can’t believe I lost,” you said and downed a shot of soju. 

Hyunjin quickly snatched the soju bottle from beside you before you could pour yourself another shot, your sixth one to be exact.

You frowned and placed your palms against your heated cheeks. “I’m never figure skating again.”

After the little meet up with Hyunjin, he requested (more like demanded) on treating you to food, and while you insisted he admitted he’d do it either way if you lost or won. That was how you ended up in a meat house, sitting around a table for two as Hyunjin grilled the food. 

“Don’t be silly. If you give up now you’ll never win.”

You rolled your eyes and the frown turned even deeper. Gazing down at the sizzling meat, your mouth watered and stomach rumbled impatiently. You could already taste the savory flavors just by looking at it. 

“I can’t believe you dragged me here looking like this.” 

Hyunjin raised a brow, genuinely not understanding what you meant. To him you looked just fine in a pair of leggings and hoodie, and it didn’t matter that your hair was still wet or your face bare of makeup because you were perfect.

“What’s wrong with the way you look? I think you’re cute.”

A fire lightened in your core and rose up to your cheeks, ears and neck, and the air in the restaurant changed too, suddenly feeling as if you were a chicken sitting in an oven. As your heart didn’t do its usual badum-badum-badum, you realized the effect Hyunjin had on you didn’t appear. You were surprisingly calm. Unbothered even and instead of buzzing with joy you were counting down the seconds until it was time to leave. 

Not to get you wrong, you loved his company. You’d been dreaming of days like these since the first time you laid eyes on him and now that you had it, all you wanted was nothing more than to jump in bed and just go into hibernation, and forget about the world.

Something was telling you though, that even if you were eating meat and celebrating your win, you still wouldn’t feel the spirit of a winner. Deep inside, you knew the root of it. The reason as to why a gray cloud hovered over you — besides losing — and it all led back to the absence of a certain hockey player.

“Here, try this.” Hyunjin gently hand fed you a piece of beef and other fillings wrapped in lettuce. “It’s good, huh?”

“You good there, princess?”

You reeled back, momentarily stunned by the unexpected presence. Mingi grinned at your reaction and sat back. Very satisfied with his work. As he readied his own computer, you took in his appearance and found yourself growing more irritated. There was no denying that he was attractive. Thick pink lips, a straight and sharp nose and a very prominent jaw. His brown eyes were surprisingly relaxed and didn’t resemble those of a fox. The boy was even blessed with not one, but two moles. His knitted sweater was an ugly shade of moss green but it looked good on him, much to your dismay. 

You sighed and sucked through your teeth, “Why are you here?”

Why wasn’t he there?

It was as if the universe was out to get you. 

First, you lost a spot at the Spring Championship. Then you failed an assignment that took a month of your life to get done, and if that wasn’t enough, the representative face of Seoul at next year’s championship was plastered all over town. She was even on the newspaper thrown in your mailbox, which you hadn’t subscribed to! If it weren’t for your personal duo of Chip and Dale, you’d skip school just to avoid it all. 

To say, you were feeling down right shit would be an understatement, and everyone around you could feel it. That was probably why Mr. Jung canceled a whole week’s worth of practice and you couldn’t have been more relieved.

Figure skating was the last thing you needed right now.

Besides your friends and coach giving you space or peppering you with love, there was another person to be added in that equation. Hyunjin made sure to spend more time with you, always asking to go out for lunch or a stroll in the park that usually ended up with window shopping and eating ice cream. 

“Felix and Changbin have been dying to meet you, you know,” Hyunjin stated as he scooped a spoon of chocolate ice cream.

“Really?” 

You remembered Changbin solely by his Halloween party and you pushed aside the other memories that came along with that night. The other boy, Felix, you knew a little next to nothing about. 

“Yeah, they haven’t stopped pestering me about it, especially Changbin.”

“Mmm, have you been talking about me, Hyunjin-ah?” 

The black haired boy grew red at the teasing and nearly choked on the plastic spoon. 

“Wh-what!” 

It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered and it sure was a different sight from his usual composed self. Your chuckle filtered between the giggles and chatter of multiple friend groups. It was a surprise to see so many people outside in the snow. Hyunjin eventually calmed down and returned to his natural skin color, and he proceeded with caution at his next question, slightly afraid to walk straight into another teasing trap.

“They are going to watch that hockey game… if you want, it would be a great time to meet them.”

Truth to be told, you had completely forgotten about that sport and it had everything to do with Mingi, the only connection you had to the hockey team of your university. The last time you saw him was a few days before your performance and you hadn’t seen him since, at one moment you thought he disappeared to another country, but Keeho’s confirmation of seeing him on campus debunked that theory. It wasn’t that weird though, considering you hadn’t stepped foot in the ice rink and didn’t share any classes with him, courtesy of majoring in two completely different studies.

You wouldn’t say it to anyone, not even Dasom, but the less you saw of him, the more bored you got. Obviously, you didn’t miss his irksome comments or that stupid pet name he’d use at any given moment, yet the days seemed to go slower without the pain in the ass of a man. Going to that hockey game would maybe change that, and what better excuse than to go with Hyunjin?

“Of course! I mean,” you cleared your throat. “Of course, I’ll check if I’m free and then I’ll let ya know.”

“Great. It’s next Friday and, unluckily, I pulled the short straw so I’ll be driving… So if you can and want, there's space in my car.”

Parting your mouth to answer, the left side of your brain suddenly halted all your speech function as you caught sight of a familiar figure. 

In the many places of Seoul, he just had to be in the same park as you. Wearing a blue tracksuit with the slogan of a wolf on the front and running sneakers adorning his feet, told you he was out on a late night run. It was quite unfair how even with his hair sticking to his nape and sweat trickling down the sides of his face, Mingi still looked great.

You and Mingi had never been friends — that much you knew — but for him to just run past you without as much as a nod of acknowledgement had you questioning if something was wrong. His exhausted eyes morphed into a nasty glare as they landed on you, which served as a nail in the coffin to your theories.

“Was that Song Mingi?” Hyunjin asked from beside you.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“What’s wrong, bean?”

Laying upside down on your bed with feet tucked beneath your pillow and your head a few inches from the edge apparently wasn’t a normal thing to do if Dasom assumed something was going on.

“Nothing, everything is perfectly fine.” 

Everything was perfectly fine if you ignored the fact that Mingi was angry with you and was intentionally avoiding you like the plague.

“Mmmm.” 

Dasom fell back and mimicked your position, arms thrown out and eyes locked on the ceiling. Some days were like that, spent doing absolutely nothing. Wrapped in big fuzzy blankets laying in either her or your bed, getting lost in space or scrolling endlessly through tiktok until the clock struck the early hours of the morning.

“You still going to that game?”

You huffed, “Yeah. I promised Hyunjin I’d go and he wants to introduce me to some of his friends in return. Is Hongjoong still coming over?”

“He hasn’t rain checked on me yet, so I think so.” She drummed her fingers against her shorts-clad thighs. “Isn’t the game at eight?”

“Yup.”

“Cool. Cool.”

You slid down to the floor, brows furrowed and lips titled. “What time is it?”

“Now?”

“Yes, Dasom. Now.”

“Hmmm, it’s currently seven-thirty.”

“It’s seven-thirty!?”

The blood rushed up to your head at your abrupt movement and the whole room spun as black spots clouded your vision. Left with no choice you laid back down and clutched your skull as you tried taking control of your own body again, all while assessing the situation. The game started at eight and you had approximately thirty minutes to get changed and figure out a way to get there before then. The messages Hyunjin sent you earlier today flashed in your mind and you were starting to regret turning down his offer to pick you up, at least then you wouldn’t risk being late and embarrassing yourself in front of his friends.

“Okay, I’m jumping in the shower real quick while you put together an outfit for me that doesn’t scream ‘I spent five minutes on this’ as I walk through the doors.”

Jumping to her feet with an imaginary tail wagging left and right, she saluted. A determined yet excited look on her face. Besides writing poetry in the dim light of your fridge at three AM, Dasom had a big passion for fashion and would always play dress up with you during your childhood days. 

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

A trail of water followed from the bathroom to the bedroom and stopped below your feet. You stood with a towel wrapped around your bare body as you watched Dasom finalizing your outfit. The clothes on your bed were a baggy gray sweatshirt with bold letters spelling out ‘TORONTO’ — borrowed from Keeho and never returned — and a pair of blue jeans. It didn’t give too much, but was still appropriate for where you were going.

“Okay, go put it on. Have you figured out a way to get there?”

Shimmying on the clothes you heaved out a breath. “Nope.”

“Want me to call Kyo?”

“It’s a Friday so I’m sure he’s pre-gaming with Jiung and the others.”

“That’s true… I mean I could always give you a ride on my bike?”

You laughed at that. The bike in question was bright purple, almost lilac-ish with shimmering tinsel handels and star shaped wheel clips. It was cute, but embarrassing at the same time. Plus it would be a shit-show, you sitting on the carrier holding on for dear life while Dasom would do her best not to run people over. She was not the most trusted driver, hence the lack of a driver’s license (that she’s tried for five times and failed every single one).

“As much as I love you, I’d rather be late than arrive on that oddity and risk a broken arm or leg.”

“Hmpf, well if you don’t appreciate Melody then you can walk there!” She crossed her arms and pouted, her lower lip jutting in a show of feigned hurt.

“I don’t really mean it, Dae-Dae, I love youuuuu! I’ll come back with something nice to make up for it.”

The sour golden retriever-looking girl immediately brightened at the mention of a treat and wrapped her arms around you, her chin digging above your sternum. 

“Can you buy those shrimp chips that I like?” 

“Deal! I seriously gotta go now, I’ll text you when I get there. Kisses and hugs and all that bullshit!”

For once you were grateful not having a car as the parking lot was packed with them and other vehicles. It must have been a big deal if some people just blatantly abandoned their cars on the sidewalk, yellow tickets flapping on their windshields. The match was in full swing and it was everything you could expect of a hockey game. Red and blue blurs of jerseys zoomed past you, the sound of blades against ice, the livid roar of the crowd, cutting blows of a whistle, sticks cracking against the puck sounding like thunder and the thump as an opponent was checked against the boards. Seeing the bleachers full of people wasn’t something you expected when you crossed the entrance. The sides were divided into two parts — red and blue — and while you weren’t about to backstab your own university by sitting with the ‘enemy’ you found no empty seats between the Blue Wolf supporters. The other side wasn’t anything better except for the few vacant seats here and there, and more nude chests and faces covered in paint. 

This was everything but your scenery. 

Staring through the plexiglas you tried spotting the familiar mop of black and white hair you hadn’t seen since God knows when. You gave up as you quickly realized the gear covered almost the entirety of their faces and body proportions, making everyone look identical to one another, the only thing differentiating them being the numbers and colors of their jerseys that did little to help as you didn’t even know his. A pair of hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders and you jumped at the unexpected touch, hastily turning to see who the culprit was and coming face to face with a grinning Hyunjin.

“Boo!”

“Don’t do that!”

His beautiful laugh reached your ears and emitted a chuckle of your own. He coaxed you into his body and enfolded you in a warm embrace that you reciprocated, chin on his shoulder and arms going around his waist. It was first when the hug broke that you could finally take in his full appearance. His whole attire — suit pants, a tucked in turtleneck and leather boots — were completely black except for the long and expensive-looking jean coat and red beanie showing support for the opposing team.

“Let’s go, I have to introduce you to some of my friends.”

Without missing a beat he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers as he gently maneuvered you through the crowd. Every few seconds you flinched as the people jumped up from their seats, cheering or groaning at what was happening down below.

From across the rink in the bench area adjacent to the ice, the red and blue players filled the booths closest to their goalkeepers. The game was in full swing with both teams scoring a point each and neither willing to let up on their explosive paces. The substitute players were all buzzing from excitement or nerves — probably a combination of both — as they shouted encouraging words to the starting lineup. Like the remaining defencemen of the blue team, Mingi sat in the middle with his hockey stick high up in the air and shoulders squishing against his fellow position players, but his eyes weren’t trained on the puck flying from one player to another. No, they were set on the pair of figure skaters on the other side of the rink. More precisely, he was focused on their interlocked hands and the subtle exchange of smiles.

A red light and the loud blaring of the goal horn went off in the arena as the opposing team managed to hurl the puck behind the blue goalkeeper and Mingi could argue it was how he felt on the inside seeing you together. The big crowd jumped from their seats, waving their red merch and screaming words Mingi couldn’t hear over the angry voice of his coach.

“Matthew, what the hell are you doing?!”

“Wow… This is really annoying. We’re only ten minutes into the first period and we’ve already received two points,” Jungkook fumed.

It was weird that neither Mingi or Jungkook were a part of the starting lineup, considering they were up against one of the better teams of the season. Trusting that their coach was making the right decision of keeping them off the ice, Mingi didn’t try persuading him to be put in. There were still two and a half periods left of the game, leaving plenty of time for Mingi to change the course of the match if needed to. It also gave him more time to keep an eye on you and simmer in his own rage, if he just hadn’t lost you in the three seconds he looked away. Frantically searching the bleachers for a girl with a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, you were nowhere to be seen.

“Song!”

The abrupt call of his name snapped him out of his search and he was met with the beetroot red face of his coach. 

“Are you deaf?!”

“Nu-uh. No, sir!”

“Then get off your ass, you’re going in.” As Mingi stood up, his coach threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in closer. “Remember what we talked about. There are scouts watching and they’ve heard great things about this Song Mingi, so show them you’re not all talk, yeah?”

Mingi pushed in his mouth guard and nodded determinedly.

Coach patted him encouragingly and gave one last pat on his helmet for luck.

“Good, get in there and put a stop to their number three.”  

Everything turned to background noise as Mingi leaped over the board and his blades slashed against the cool surface. There was only him and his defending zone, and the fact that you were somewhere in the crowd, probably watching him or getting cozy with that stupid figure skater. The grip around his hockey stick tightened at the image and he hated the effect you still had on him. He should’ve been worrying about being on top of his game and impressing the scouts, and not what you were up to.

Mingi and Matthew held the blue line and passed the puck between each other as the remaining blue players skated around in the offensive zone, searching for an opening to get the puck handed to them. As Mingi slid the puck to Matthew, the bigger defender quickly hurled it to the next player only for the pass to be cut off. 

Going backwards, Mingi immediately retreated home while putting pressure on the puck carrier and simultaneously keeping him from having a clear view of the net. He skillfully managed to push the opposing player (without physical contact) to the side in the defensive zone. He quickly realized that he was closed off and sent the puck diagonally backwards to another red player who moved with such speed, Mingi knew he wouldn't be able to stop the additional player in time. Protests erupted from the bench as all fourteen substitute players had a hunch of what was going to happen.

To his aid came Matthew and the two defensemen managed to shut down a possible counterattack. As the remaining players entered the defending zone, the puck was still in the possession of the red team. It landed in the hold of their number three, who was a few diagonal meters from Mingi. The winger locked gazes with the blue defender and sent him a smug smirk, tauntingly saying ‘watch this’ as he winded his hockey stick up to his shoulder and readied himself for a slapshot.

Losing all control of his body, Mingi changed the trajectory of his movements and skated almost backwards while getting in number three’s sight of line. Mingi waited for the perfect timing and when the red player rushed forward to skate past him, Mingi jutted out his hip, flipping the opponent over him and stealing the puck in the process. Cheers erupted in the arena and Mingi soared at the jumbled praises and roars of encouragement.

“This is Felix and that’s Changbin, they attend TOP University. Lix-ie, Bin-ie, this is the friend I’ve been telling you about,” Hyunjin introduced you as the crowd calmed down.

The two guys weren’t dressed in anything over the top, basic hoodies and joggers or a pair of jeans with small accessories showing their support for the Red Tigers which made you feel out of place with Keeho’s blue scarf wrapped around your neck. You recognized one of them as the guy who hosted that halloween party; buffy build, a triangle shaped head, but kind features.  

“Hey.” 

The deep voice that greeted you didn’t match the sunshine-face of the other boy beside Changbin. A sprinkle of freckles covered his nose and cheeks, his eyes crinkling as he offered you a sun-like smile that matched the color of his hair.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you gently said and sat in the spot beside the sunshine-boy.

“It’s great to finally see the girl this one’s been obsessing about,” Changbin butted in with a teasing grin and earned himself a slap on the thigh by Felix.

“Just ignore him, he loves to tease.”

“Ah, that’s okay. I know banter when I hear it,” you smiled reassuringly and looked at the game below. 

One would think that because ice was your dome, you’d easily understand other winter sports, but you were truly having trouble keeping up with whatever was going on in the newly polished rink. The puck was traveling a hundred miles an hour and the skaters were freakishly fast, you could barely keep up with who was attacking and who was defending. It seemed like the moment one team scored, the other was immediately taking back a point. On top of all, you had zero knowledge about the rules. To say you were surprised when a — what looked to be dangerous and illegal — tackle occurred, would be an understatement. You expected at least someone to jump out of sheer anger, but no one batted an eye. They just kept watching and the players resumed as if it were the most normal thing of the day.

“Do you want to die?” Chan growled as he bumped shoulders with Mingi, getting all up in the defenseman’s face.

The chants of the Blue Wolves’ fans sent another surge of adrenaline through Mingi’s veins, not that he needed it, but gave him an ego boost to return the cockiness to the max.

“I should be asking you that. Don’t think you can get past us just like that. I’ll shut you down, Chan-hyung.”

In any other circumstance and in a conversation with quite literally anyone else, the use of honorific wouldn’t have been out of place, but hearing it come from Mingi wasn’t an indication of respect. It was a ploy to humiliate him and a way to set the tone of the game. In other words, telling him not to expect an easy win. Chan didn’t think anything less.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Mingi scoffed, a smirk of triumph playing across his lips. “I already did and guess what, hyung. I’ll do it again and again, and again. You will not get past me. I’ll knock you down until your ass makes a dent on the ice.”

Returning the ever-so-kind favor of butting shoulders, Mingi pushed past him and stopped right behind his center, ready to receive the puck or defend if the odds played out in the red team’s favor.

“I’m sorry about what happened at the preliminaries,” Felix smiled empathically and placed a hand on your shoulder for support. “If it makes you feel better, I thought you were perfect and deserved to win.” 

You forced a smile at the reminder of the event. The wound was still fresh and even though Felix didn’t have any ill intentions with bringing it up, it still didn’t spare you from the bitter taste of winning — if it could even be considered a victory — second place.

“Thank you, but the jury is rarely ever wrong.”

“Tell me about it,” he started and focused momentarily on the game again. “It still doesn’t change my opinion on who should’ve won though.”

Before you could thank him again and express your gratitude to his kindness, Hyunjin joined the conversation. “Oh, I see you’ve found yourself a new figure skating partner.” 

Glancing from Felix to Hyunjin and back to Felix again, you pointed at the freckled boy. “You’re a figure skater too?”

“Yup, I've been training with Jin-ie since elementary school. A tick would be easier to shake off than him.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, everyone practically begged you to sit beside them but no, little Lixie the new student decided it would be best to annoy Hyunjin-ie in the back.” 

With a witty remark waiting on the tip of his tongue, Felix parted his lips, but was interrupted by Changbin abruptly standing up, hands clasped around his mouth and shouting, “Come on Chan! Don’t let him get away with that!”

Glancing down at the rink, you noticed number three in the red team was pushed against the border with a blue guy towering over him. Both guys seemed to be communicating through their eyes and if it weren’t for their teammates getting in between, you were sure a full on fist fight would’ve taken place in front of everyone.

“You’d think Chan was his boyfriend and not mine,” Felix said to you — more so screamed over the loud cheers and hollers of distress — and watched an agitated Changbin slump back down in his seat, eyes following the flying puck kissing the net of the red goalkeeper.

“Boyfriend?” 

“Ah, right, of course Hyunjin wouldn’t talk about his friends. Anyways I’m dating number three in the red team, maybe you’ve heard of him. Bang Chan or Christopher, whatever seems fitting.”

Your mouth turned into an ‘o’ as the puzzle pieces clasped together. Felix never stopped smiling and even chuckled at your reaction. He found you endearing and understood why Hyunjin wouldn’t stop talking about you during their study sessions. 

“I take it, you know him?”

“Mmmm, I wouldn’t say I know him but we had a brief encounter at a halloween party.”

“Ah, that’s cool. The world is really small, isn’t it?”

The buzzer beat you to an answer, indicating that the twenty minutes of the second period were out. 

“Oh, and that’s halftime,” Felix said and stood up to stretch. 

Changbin shot him a deadly stare, as if the figure skater cursed out his entire family. “You know it’s not called that. It’s an intermission!”

“Eh, we don’t keep up with all that in Australia. Halftime is halftime in whatever sport you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were Australian,” you admitted.

“What, really?” He said in English and then switched back to Korean. “All the people I meet point out I speak with an accent so I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, now that you’ve said it I can actually hear like the faintest accent. Oh, that’s embarrassing of me.” You sheepishly smiled and scratched the back of your head.

“Nah, not really. Anyway, Bin-ie and I are gonna get some snacks, you guys want anything?”

“I’m alright, thank you though.”

Felix threw you a thumbs up and looked at Hyunjin for his reply.

“Yeah, surprise me with something good.”

“Gotcha! We’ll be back like a lil’ before they start if we don’t get held up by the bathrooms. Changbin sure does love to take his time there.”

As the duo followed the crowd out, you and Hyunjin fell into a comfortable silence and listened to the chatter of the people around you. For being your first time at a hockey game, you weren’t bored at all, despite being oblivious to the set of rules. Keeho did say something about fights being legal and you sincerely hoped to avoid that. The sport on ice you were aware of was so less violent, flashy and fast paced. It was so different from your figure skating which was more or less art or a story being conveyed by body language. 

Nonetheless, you were still having a good time, even though much of it was spent getting acquainted with Hyunjin’s friends.

“So… what do you think of the game so far?”

Snapping from the ice taken over by a bunch of kids chasing each other and falling on their rears, you hummed and looked back at Hyunjin who already had his eyes on you.

“It’s interesting. I mean, it’s nothing like figure skating, obviously, but it’s cool… Do you guys always do this? Watch hockey?”

“Mmm, not always, but whenever Chan has a game we try to show our support just like he does whenever Lix or I have anything going on with our figure skating.”

“That’s sweet of you. That’s actually really cute,” you gushed and the thought reminded you of your own friend group. How Keeho and Dasom showed up at your competitions or the many times you and Keeho attended Dasom’s poetry slam.

Hyunjin leaned closer to you, a playful smile across his features. “I don’t like being called cute, but considering it’s coming from you I’ll let it slide.”

Taken back by the almost flirtatious side of Hyunjin, you bashfully looked away and cheekily covered your mouth, hiding the way your smile expanded at his comment. Hyunjin, attentive as always, took notice of the action and chuckled.

“How, uhm…” 

You leaned back in your seat and braided your fingers together as the change of topic went from cheerful to sullen.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of those two, but yeah… How you holding up?”

Still trying to hold up your happy expression, you faced him and tilted your head, and Hyunjin had to physically hold back from planting a kiss on your cute nose. 

“I’ve been alright. There’s not much I can do to be honest and I don’t want to dwell on it more than necessary, you know?”

“That’s understandable. Why think about the things that make you feel bad?”

“Exactly. I’ve decided to focus on the more happier things in life.” You grimaced as a hockey player tripped and smacked head first into the plastic glass. “Even if that is watching people get concussions for just 13.000 won.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing, elegantly covering his mouth with the back of his hand and tipping his head backwards. A laugh of your own lingered with his and the multiple cheers in the air. 

“Three for three, Jeon Jungkook does it again! The nimble winger of the Blue Wolves can’t be stopped!” 

The announcement sounded through the arena a few seconds after the red lights flashed behind the Tiger’s goal and buzzer erupted, nearly rupturing your eardrums. Jungkook was really on a blast tonight, you thought as you followed his retreating figure, making a mental note of remembering his jersey number. Although you had yet to find Mingi, you felt proud for at least figuring out Jungkook and Chan, completely dismissing the fact that you barely knew a handful of players on the ice.

“You’re doing great out there, Kookie.” Mingi dunked him on the back as they retreated to the neutral zone. “Make that into five out of five and I’ll treat you to some lamb skewers.”

The smirk stretched across Jungkook’s face could only be described as menacingly and with  him in his element, Mingi knew they weren’t going to go down without a fight. 

“Add steamed dumplings into the mix and I’ll double it.”

As the referee held the puck in the air between the red and blue centers, the rest of the players prepared themselves for another brawl over who put the puck behind the opposing net. Mingi was warm all over, and the extra weight of pads and equipment was taking a toll on his body, as well as defending his home base, but each time a player was stopped, the pride was enough to resurrect his energy. Glancing slightly to the side, everything moved in slow motion as he briefly made eye contact with the supporters of both teams. Some were screaming at him out of happiness and others with harmless distaste, angry at his ability to shut down the reds’ plays and advances. Moving further up the rows, it was like a headlight lit up a spot in the crowd, and suddenly, amongst the hundreds of people, he could make you out like a tulip in the middle of a meadow.

The hold around his stick tightened seeing you squished between pretty boy and an unrecognizable face, and Mingi promised he didn’t care. He didn’t care as pretty boy whispered something in your ear and he definitely didn’t care as you flung your head backward, and let out what probably was the most angelic laughter known to heaven. Smoke erupted from his nostrils and the moment the puck was in possession of the red team, the vibrant colored jerseys irked him like a matador irritatnig a bull. As the puck was in play, all sound ceased to exist and Mingi zeroed in on the players advancing forward. 

Mingi would describe it as being underwater with all the noise distant and his movement sluggish no matter how hard he tried to lift his limbs, and if  he wasn’t so aware of his surroundings, Mingi would certainly think he was losing one of his five senses. 

See, although ice hockey was a sport all about seeing and physical contact, hearing was an important part too and if Mingi wasn’t revolted by your presence, he wouldn’t have missed the referee signaling an offside, and he wouldn’t have skated into the first player daring to cross the blue line that separated the defending and neutral zone.

The referee immediately blew his whistle and fully extended his right arm, fist clenched and eyes set on the defenseman, and time turned back to normal as a pop-like sound burst in Mingi’s ears. He barely managed to realize what happened when another body collided against his, pushing him straight into the boards. Chaos ensued as multiple players got involved trying to ease the situation, but the damage was already done and Mingi was sent to the penalty box — purposely avoiding the heavy gazes of the blue bench — along with whichever guy flew into him.

He cursed out loud as he slumped down on the bench. This was embarrassing on so many levels. It was one thing to ram into someone as payback, but lashing out for no apparent reason and after the whistle was (almost) unacceptable. He wanted to laugh at his stupidity; so much for not caring. 

“What happened?” You asked no one in particular, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Ah, that Song Mingi, always up to no good,” Changbin grumbled, more so to himself than you. 

You snapped your eyes to the plastic enclosure the blue player was sent off to and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. Through the year you had known Mingi, you’d never guess he could really use his size and strength to quite literally floor another person. Hockey was a rough sport, that wasn’t news to you, and considering Mingi could use his strength to his advantage, it was probably why he was so sought after. You couldn’t shake away this feeling of awareness. Just now realizing how… big Mingi actually was and you didn't know whether it was relief or pride, knowing that of all the times you pushed him over the edge, never once did he raise a finger at you out of anger or spite. 

Mingi may have been an asshole with 70% height and muscle, but he wasn’t a bad guy. 

“That’s called roughing,” Felix started explaining. “It’s like… I wouldn’t say it’s an illegal move, but if done out of motive or in a way to really hurt the other player, it could lead to a minor penalty — a timeout — or game misconduct. But it all depends on how bad the situation is.”

“So he won’t play until the end of the game?”

“Nah, he’ll probably be out in like a few minutes,” Hyunjin answered for you and clapped as the red team scored, evening out the score board to five-five.

“Then the blue team will be a player short up until then?.”

“Pretty much,” Felix confirmed and popped a chip in his mouth.

You didn’t see how that could be fair, but then again, ice hockey wasn’t your forthe and as no one in the crowd was making a fuss over Mingi’s penalty — except for pointing out his poor judgment — you didn’t say much else, but hum in agreement. For twelve minutes, you didn’t pay attention to what was happening on the ice, only applauding when the crowd did and slumped back in your seat as the supporters groaned in disappointment. Your full attention was set on the lone player in the plastic box. 

Worry, confusion and pity circled your mind and you wondered if this was how everyone felt seeing the placement of your figure skating competition. As soon as the thought made home in your head, you shooed it away, reminding yourself to focus on the happy things and not everything that was blue. 

Forcing your eyes from Mingi, the most blue thing in the arena (both clothing and emotion wise) you zoned out and the players blurred into small vivid spots twirling on the ice like flies above a bowl of fruit. You didn’t understand where the worry came from or why it decided to take shelter in your stomach. It probably wasn’t Mingi’s first rodeo in the penalty box and wouldn’t be the last on either, and you recognized his sudden outburst as the one you saw a glimpse of at the party, right before you left him with that blonde police officer. 

Mingi never lashed out in anger and if he did, you were never on the receiving end of it despite giving him back a tenfold of insults he greeted you with. Seeing him quite literally floor a guy his size, made your guts twist in discomfort. It was an emotion that didn’t look good on him at all. 

The game was growing more intense with each minute passing and the atmosphere amongst the audience was also getting rowdier as the teams were practically neck and neck, neither willing to let up. The second Mingi stepped foot on the ice again, the whole arena blew up with cheers. It was like the almost extinguished torch of hope re-awakened into a bright and lively fire, and you too held onto the light of hope that the Blue Wolves would take it home, definitely because of your loyalty to Tiny University and not the growing affection for a certain defender in said school. 

The puck was flying from one side of the rink to the other in just a matter of seconds with all players, excluding the goalkeepers, circling around and cashing the rubber like stone. 

“Here, wanna help me hold this up?”

You didn’t know how you missed the big sign leaning against Felix’s legs, but you did. With a nod of agreement, you both took hold of each side of the white cardboard cutout and quickly looked at the glittery blue writing on it. 

I am Chan’s #1 fan. 

“Don’t judge, I made it like last second.” A blush kissed his cheeks and his eyes squeezed into crescent moons as you read the corny line.

“No, no! I think it’s cute.”

With ten seconds left of the game everyone in the arena stood up which made you and Felix raise the sign even higher. When everyone thought the game would end in a tie, a player from the defending line of the blue team somehow managed to steal the puck from two red players and sent it hurling across the rink, right in the sanctuary of his teammate’s stick who calculatedly launched it towards the red goal and past its keeper. The buzzer went off and chaos ensued. From what you could see all the Blue Wolves players crowded the scorer and dunked the defender who sent the winning assist, while the fans raised the volume through the roof. Whistling, cheers, laughter, even some old fashion booing circulated the arena.

Not all that upset with the outcome of the game, Felix applauded and turned to his friend who seemed to be quite butthurt. “Song really is crazy good, isn’t he Bin-ie?”

“Whatever, he’s lucky Jake sprained his ankle and couldn’t play today or he’d have them all eating ice. Ha! Get it, cause they’re playing on i–”

The rest of the conversation was tuned out as you focused on the celebrating team, trying to catch sight of eighty-nine. Your eyes traveled from one bulky player to another and then, as if your prayers were answered, the player came right into view. 

Mingi walked beside a shorter guy clad in blue and you assumed it was Chan by the sole way he pointed up at you and the other guys. Your suspicion was confirmed as the helmet was removed and Chan’s face was illuminated by the strong lights. You could just make out the faint movement of his mouth, saying something to the giant beside him. 

“Good to know your girl is cheering for the right team, Mings.”

Mingi followed the invisible line leading to where you stood and scanned the group of friends. He immediately recognized Hyunjin and the buff one, and he didn’t even manage to take a proper look at the third boy as his eyes found yours. Beautiful as ever, he thought and admired as much of you as possible. Your face, clothes, make-up and everything about you was perfect, and the passive aggressive comment was almost brushed to the side until he zeroed in on the paper in your hands. It was in that moment that the rose-tinted glasses slipped down his nose, jealousy quick to seep into every corner of his existence and he remembered why he’d been avoiding you for weeks.

Before he could send you a sharp (and unjustified) glare, he redirected his anger to the guy beside him. 

“Oh, don’t be like that. She was the one to look at me first.

Mingi wasn’t a violent person, he really wasn’t, but there was no acceptable excuse for why he did what he did. 

As if born ready for this day, Mingi used his teeth to tear off his gloves and pounced on Chan. One hand grabbed around the collar of his red jersey as the other was colliding with his cheek. He managed to get in two more punches — the first successfully collided with Chan’s jaw and the second just barely missed the bone of his nose — before Chan used his own limbs to defend himself. The red winger grabbed hold of Mingi’s helmet and snatched it off his head, and seized the chance to send a fist flying in his face, returning the punches he received from the blue defender. Red bruises quickly littered across their knuckles and warm blood covered their skin, the thick liquid pouring from both Chan’s nose and Mingi’s lip.

The crowd was going wild, the whistles of the referees were being ignored and it didn’t take long before the remaining players of each team were trying to separate the two brutes. 

“Oh my God!” 

Felix and Changbin flinched at your gasp. 

“He’s fucking crazy. Hey! What the hell?!” Changbin jumped between the seats and rocketed down towards the ice with the rest of you hot on his heels.

The silence was deafening. Everyone was curious as to what was going on and why a fight ensued now that the game was over, usually the nose breaking happened on ice and not off. Whispers and rumors spread like a wildfire, some claimed it was the aftermath of adrenaline while others thought of something more extreme like hard drugs taking over. Nonetheless, the crowd riled them on, clearly finding joy in the brawl. You weren’t anywhere near when the referees and teammates broke them up, Mingi being forcefully sent towards the locker room as Chan stayed laying on the ground, crimson face and teeth no longer pearly white.

“What the hell, Mingi,” you muttered under your breath and slipped through the mass of people, running to where you assumed he’d be. 

Your head was working a hundred miles an hour with the images of Mingi hunched over Chan, fists violently beating the blonde and a lot of blood covering his face. You were sure you’d never get them out of your head and you shuddered at the amount of red that ran down Chan’s nose. For the sake of the giant asshole you grew attached to, you hoped it wouldn’t put a stop to his career, both school- and sportwise. It would by far be his dumbest decision yet. For what even?

A group of reporters stood outside a door you assumed was reserved for the Blue Wolves and if that wasn’t enough of a give away then it was the loud cheers and victory singing echoing out to the hallway. In reality you wanted nothing more than to barge inside and interrupt their celebration — how they could celebrate after that bloodbath was still something you couldn’t wrap your head around — but you did no such thing. The moment the door opened you pushed the reporters aside and flew in with your head first, paying no mind to the perverse wolf whistles and cheers of the adrenaline drunken boys. You didn’t even bother with them as your eyes scanned the room that smelled of sweat and axe deodorant for him. Jungkook, seemingly the most normal one there (which spoke volumes), quickly understood why you were there and approached you with no teasing glint or malice in his gaze.

“Try looking by the abandoned gym on the ground floor. There’s a vending machine there we usually go to so I assume if he’s taken off somewhere it should be there.” 

You wasted no time in turning on your heel and practically sprinting down the route you repeated like a mantra. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine.

Lo and behold, he was right there and if it weren’t for the worry growing in your belly you’d go back upstairs and reward the playboy with a big smooch to his rosy lips. 

Mingi sat down on the floor, legs up to his chest and forearms folded on his knees. His sweaty forehead was leaning against the skin of his arm and an anxious rhythm of his heart beat in his chest. It was hard to miss the red on his knuckles. Inhaling a shaky breath as if it would steady your own heart, your feet stopped before him falling right in his line of sight. Surprised at the unexpected company, Mingi looked up and got a first row ticket of the concern swimming in your eyes. You didn’t know what to expect going after him, but the annoyed — almost disgusted — scoff he let out cut through you like a knife and twisted as he looked back down. Despite the act of annoyance aimed at you, Mingi wasn’t actually that annoyed with you but rather with himself because after everything he still had the urge to reach for your touch and he hated it. His jaw clenched at the circumstance and his nails dug in the palms of his hands. You weren’t even supposed to be here, it made everything ten times harder than it should’ve been.

Having had enough of his pity party Mingi and the weight of your gaze judging him, he pushed up from his position and walked right past you. No hello, no second glances, just walking as if you were a ghost he couldn’t see let alone feel. His movements halted when you latched onto one of his wrists, knowing that if he truly wanted to get away he’d shake you off like a ragdoll and be on his merry way. Although he was with his back facing you, the fact that he stood  rooted to the ground was the approval you seeked to continue with your winged attempt at getting him to speak.

“Mingi, what the hell was that?” 

The two of you weren’t heavy on the use of honorifics, but hearing you spit his name out like that surely sent a shiver down his spine. You weren’t pissed off, he noticed, you were actually worried and it was quite amusing. The nerve you had of showing up after that fiasco to interrogate him about his actions. Who the hell did you think you were?

“Huh? Why did you do that?” Shaking his arm, you tried again. “Can you please say something? I’m worried for you and your silence isn’t helping, please just say something.”

Mingi didn’t budge and you were starting to lose it. The avoidance wasn't enough, now he was blatantly ignoring your attempt at helping too.

“What is your problem?! I’m trying to help you, something’s obviously happened so why won’t you tell me!”

Ripping his wrist out of your hold, he turned around and it took every particle in you not to cower at his sharp eyes staring you down. 

“You want to know what my problem is?” His loud voice bounced off the walls and punched you right in the gut. 

There was so much anger in his gaze, his tone and his body. Everything screamed of anger and you didn’t even know why you were on the receiving end of his emotions. You were just trying to help.

“You! You are my fucking problem!”

“What?”

“As if you don’t know what you’re doing. Acting all nice and cutesy like we are friends, like you’re interested in ever befriending me which now that I think about is so stupid because you and I? What a joke. We’re a fucking joke!”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Mingi scoffed again. He looked to the side, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. There were so many thoughts going through his head and all he could think about was what words to use to hurt you the most. To make you feel the hurt he did.

“First, you invite me to your stupid competition and then you come to my game sitting with him! Was this all a game, huh? To get back at me for all the dumb shit I did to you because if it is then wow, you’ve really proven yourself to be more shallow and boneless than I ever thought. I mean, you’re really going out of your way to get under my skin and act like a fucking–”

Mingi closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut, the veins on his neck were more prominent than ever and his face was almost identical to the red color of Dasom’s hair. He really needed to calm down before he said something he’d regret. Not that it mattered, the damage was already done and he knew the aftermath was already biting him in the ass. Shit, the look of your glossy eyes was quick to make his inside burn with remorse.

Each insult was a poisoned arrow aimed at your heart. The words physically hurt you more than ever before and you weren’t aware just how mean Mingi could be. Your previous bickering never stooped on a level this low before and it brought tears to your eyes but even that wasn't enough to stop his rant. Not wanting to be caught vulnerable in front of the guy who was practically stepping on you with his shoes, you quickly wiped away the tears that managed to escape.

Mingi knew he was taking his frustration out on you and he knew it wasn’t fair because you hadn’t done anything wrong. It all kept piling on his shoulders. All the instances he saw you two together; the joint practices, your embarrassed giggles any time Hyunjin breathed, watching him console you in the hallways like a poor reenactment of a romcom, sitting so close together at his game, shoulders touching a little too close for Mingi’s liking… If that stupid piece of cardboard was a bomb waiting to be activated, then Chan was the flame that set everything off. 

“Oh, great. This is really great now you’re fucking crying too. You think some tears are going to make me feel bad? They won’t, I don’t care anymore okay? I’m done with you and your fucking shit. So go back to your prince fucking charming and don’t even bother looking for me, you hear? I’m fucking done!” 

You shrunk back at his unwavering and stern voice. Having nothing more to say Mingi stormed away, blood boiling and hands shaking as the final words set in. The last you saw of him before gut-wrenching sobs wrecked your body was the door slamming up against the wall and back the doorframe so hard the walls vibrated. And later that same night when Mingi got home, he wouldn’t even be surprised if you decided to never look at him again, let alone speak with him. 

Different emotions tore you apart and it was hard to make sense of anything that happened in the past ten minutes. The questions — what, why, how — were endless and you wanted to go home, preferably dig a hole in your bed and not come out until better days, whenever that would be you didn’t know. Tears burned your cheeks like lava and snot tickled your nose, dropping off your chin and onto your shirt. With the already wet sleeve of your sweater you wiped everything off your face, not in the right mind to care about what Keeho would say about his precious shirt. Like a baby cub seeking its momma bear for comfort, you retreated home yearning for the closest touch of a mother you could find.

“You have reached the voicemail of Choi Dasom. Please leave a message after the beep.”

After the fifth attempted call, you gave up and continued trudging home. Dark clouds hovered over Seoul and the light pelts of rain quickly became a downpour. Being picked up on Dasom’s bike didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Unlocking the front door of your shared apartment you were greeted with Hongjoong and Dasom sitting awfully close on the couch. They jumped apart as you harshly dropped the keys in the fruit bowl and froze at the sight of you; bawling, wet and shivering. Skipping the formalities you wasted no time diving in the shower and by the time you ventured back out, Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen as if the boy was never there to begin with and you couldn’t have been more relieved. You’ve had enough boys for the next ten years of your life.

“Beans?” 

It was probably the dumbest thing to cry about, but your lips still quivered and the tears you just managed to stop surfaced at the nickname. The girl caught you in her arms and you buried your head in her shoulder as your cries got louder. Dasom offered you solace with gentle rubs to your back and patiently waited until your labored breathing became even. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” she whispered and slowly guided you to your bedroom. 

Attentive as always she helped you get under the covers and shuffled in beside you to which you immediately buried your face in her bosom, her hand slank under your neck and connected with the other at the back of your head. You lay there in each other’s presence and listened to the coexisting beat of your hearts. Dasom didn’t try coaxing the troubles out of you and you heaved out a big breath. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at the constant tears and after waking up from passing out of exhaustion, you knew you’d be a victim of an unbearable headache and heavy feet. The whisper of your name was loud in the silent room and you hummed in reply, letting the other girl know you were in fact awake.

“You wanna talk about it?”

The most obvious thing would be to talk about it; talk about why you burst through the door, face wet and not entirely because of the rain. Your mom always told you to never sleep with an empty stomach, a busy mind or a heavy heart and while you didn’t appreciate the advice at the minute, future-you would (hopefully) think back to this moment and thank you for your courage. Dasom followed in tow as you sat up criss-crossed, taking your hands in hers and giving them comforting squeezes every once in a while. By the time she was pulled through the story of your evening — meeting Changbin and Felix, having a good time with Hyunjin, to seeing Mingi beat the living shit out of Chan and then him lashing out on you — the clock struck somewhere between two and three in the morning, courtesy of a few short crying breaks in between. Glancing up at your friend who was still digesting the events, you felt lighter at the thought of having your very own sun sharing warmth and hope wherever she went.

“He likes you,” she eventually said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You sniffled and wiped at your nose again, hands falling to play with the bedsheet. 

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know who I’m talking about?”

You thought you ran out of tears hours ago but were proven wrong as a new batch stung your eyes and eventually trickled down your sore cheeks. Dasom pulled you in another soul crushing hug and held the back of your head, nails gently massaging your scalp.

“Why are you crying, bean?”

Through tears and her thick cardigan you replied. “Because we aren’t talking about Hyunjin, are we? He’s the one we should be talking about.”

“But we aren’t and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

It felt wrong crying over someone who held no significance in your life just a few months ago. The same guy who riled you up like it was his daily dose of sunshine and who set it as his life mission to have you curse him out. The guy who called you stupidly cute nicknames and walked you home at night, offering up his jacket to keep you warm and safe from colds. The guy who didn't turn up to your competition and then lived in your head like an annoying song playing on repeat refusing to disappear. The same guy who shook you to your core with his angry words and fiery gaze.

“Why am I like this?”

“Like what?” 

Dasom wasn’t foolish. She knew what you were going through and could only hope you’d come to terms with the unknown feelings rather than to be the one revealing the reason behind your heartbreak. 

“Drawn to a guy who’s mean and an asshole when I have the perfect one right there, waiting and catering to my every need.”

“I know I’m supposed to hate him for the things he’s said to you and I do, I really do bean…. so if you think I won’t at least glare him down in the hallways then I’m revoking your position as my best friend… But I’m going to be completely honest with you, bean because that’s what you deserve. I think something else must have triggered him to lash out, it couldn’t just have been because you were simply sitting beside Hyunjin.”

She gently played with your hair as the words sank in.

“He really hurt me.”

“I know, bubs and I’m so sorry. Know that nothing excuses that behavior.”

“Then why do I still think of him even when he’s shit. Why won’t my brain let me be happy with Hyunjin?” You broke from the huge and fell back on the bed, hands gripping the sheets as if they held all the answers to your questions. 

“Hyunjin is safe. We all like the safe and predictable, right?” 

Your nod of agreement spurred her on. 

“But Mingi, oh Mingi, is exciting. He drives you crazy, keeps you on your toes and throws you off course yet you can’t ever really get enough of him no matter how much it annoys you. I see it and I’ve been seeing it for months now and I promise this is the most objective version of me speaking right now.”

“But I like Hyunjin,” you whined, refusing to accept your own feelings.

“And you like me and Kyo too,” Dasom whispered softly, like a breeze passing through a field. “But we don’t fall in Mingi’s category.”

The days leading up to the holidays were spent within the four walls of your room waiting for the time to pass until you’d take your suitcase and haul ass across the country, definitely not because you were afraid to stumble across the very person you were avoiding. After the not so pleasant discovery you didn’t know what to make of yourself or your feelings. You couldn’t just phone him and proclaim your undying love because last time you checked, he explicitly made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you. You from a few months ago would throw a party big enough to think it was for a quinceañera or a sweet sixteen celebration with this information, but the present-you acted like Bella Swan during the disappearance of Edward Cullen just a tad bit less depressing.

Dasom was the first to leave. Her parents surprised her with a vacation to Jeju-island and her flight left the first morning of winter break. Keeho was still in the city but with college out of the way, he took on more working hours than usual. His immediate family lived in Canada and the plane ticket would be more expensive than the salary he’d get over the next two weeks. With your two friends unavailable you passed time thinking about the one who shall not be named and realized how unfortunate the whole situation was. You also realized you probably wouldn’t act upon your feelings as you didn’t with Hyunjin and would just let them flow until evaporating into thin air. 

Speaking of Hyunjin, you and him still texted back and forth albeit the conversations were slow and not nearly as exciting as you once found them to be. Your sudden disappearance at the hockey game was covered with a quick lie of ‘not feeling well’, which he immediately believed because, why wouldn’t he? Christmas wasn't anything special. It started with an early message of Hyunjin wishing you a Merry Christmas attached with a selfie of him in a Santa hat and fake beard, and the rest of the day was spent inside with your family watching movies and drinking hot cocoa. 

The new year was welcomed on the couch where a bump would sooner or later be formed and that alone was enough to explain the excitement level in the household. You all went to sleep a little after midnight and as you laid in your childhood bedroom, feet almost sticking out of the small bed, you mindlessly scrolled down the explore section of Instagram. A pang of sadness struck you at the picture staring back at you through the screen. It was a post of Mingi and his friend — the golden retriever looking one — posing on a snowy mountain both clad in skiing gear. The taller of the two had an arm slung over Mingi’s shoulder who, in return, sported a boyish grin and held up a peace sign. The split lip had healed perfectly and the only indicator of him being in a fight was the slight plum colored mark under his eye (courtesy of a nice punch delivered to his nose). At least someone was happy with you out of their lives. 

Angry, sad and just tired, you exited the app and shoved your phone under the pillow drowning out your scream. You didn’t even know why his post landed on your feed. Wasn’t the explore page supposed to show videos of millennials doing cringy trends and not the most recent activity of the dude that shit all over you.

This continued on for days. While you were decomposing in your room he was updating his Instagram account as if a celebrity. Pictures and videos of him clubbing until the early hours of the morning, pretty girls and tables full of alcohol captured in short stories and then a complete 180; sharing clips of him flying down snowy mountains, doing stunts and whatnot.

If he was so upset with you, why were you the one wasting days self wallowing? It wasn’t like you could party away the worry. Your hometown was the size of a nut meaning A) you knew everyone and their mother, and B) every person in a ten mile radius was well-over the age of forty and the closest thing that came as a party would be the retirement home down the street. Then again, playing bingo with the grannies was better than binge watching gut-wrenching dramas. At least you’d be clearing your ‘to watch-list’.

The weeks passed in a blur and, before you knew it, you were back in the comfort of your apartment with two days to spare until classes started rolling again. Dasom would be home the day after and Keeho was either passed out in his apartment or working his second shift of the day, leaving you to unpack the chaos sealed inside your suitcase. Swirls of snow beat violently against the windows, turning the outside world into a winter wonderland. The heavy weather picked up on your journey home and as you traveled halfway back to Seoul, the ground was slowly being covered in white flakes. You only got so far with your unpacking when a series of knocks rattled against the front door. 

“What’s uuuuup?!” Keeho screeched as you opened the door and an equally excited Dasom rolled in with her red large suitcase. 

“What are you doing here?!” 

They pulled you into a hug. Keeho’s loudness and Dasom’s giggles warmed up the place in no time and you immediately felt better.

“Surprise!”

“I hate you guys!” You exclaimed and squeezed their waists, head resting on Keeho’s shoulder with Dasom’s nose buried against your chest.

“Don’t lie, we know you love us. Now let’s get this bitch started!”

Scurrying to the kitchen Keeho brought back three animated cups; one with Naruto, Totoro and–

“You’re not drinking beer from the cup plastered with a picture of my dead cat!”

“Of course not, that one’s yours. Mine’s the Naruto one and Dasom gets Totoro, for obvious reasons.”

Said girl skipped quickly to the pantry and pulled out multiple bags of snacks. The huge smile on her face got you all curious.

“What’s got you all happy?”

“Nothing, I've just missed you guys! Jeju was fun but it would’ve been better with you there,” she pouted and poured the snacks into separate bowls.

“Pfft, don’t listen to her. She’s been texting that Cruella de Vil boy all winter break.”

Her smile grew and grew until it was a full blown grin and you squealed in delight, genuinely happy for your friend despite the green monster gnawing at the back of your head. 

“Tell me everything, c’mon!”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The fun and what would be the start of a girls’ night was interrupted by Keeho. “I should be the one asking you that, little miss I’m in love with my greatest enemy.”

Gasping, you turned to Dasom. “You told him?!”

“So it’s true?!” 

He leaned towards you and nearly snickered as your hands covered your mouth — if it weren’t for the serious circumstance — and stared at him with wide eyes. You walked right into his trap and as you told him everything that happened — the good and the bad — Dasom threw her hand out, palm facing upward..

“Pay up, pretty boy!”

“They aren’t even together!”

Dasom, a feral little chihuahua, jumped on him and a wrestling match took place in the middle of the living room. You couldn’t find it in you to be mad or upset. Leaning back against your arms, you watched them with a smile tugging at your lips. This is what you missed back in your childhood home. As much as you loved your family, the one you built in the heart of Seoul was very dear to you.

The ding of your phone snapped you out of your love-struck daze.

Hyunjin [07:16 PM] you back home yet?

You [07:16 PM] yeah, arrived a few hours ago

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] im glad

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] how was it?

You [07:17 PM] Good to see the family again but God did I miss my bed

You [07:17 PM] What were you up to?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] yeah no kiddin ik exactly what u mean

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] Nothing much, did a lot of practice on the choreo w Iseul

You [07:17 PM] Ohhhh how’s that coming along?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] it’s good but nowhere near perfect

You scoffed at the reply.

You [07:17 PM] I’m sure you’ll get it down in no time

Keeho harshly grabbed your shoulders, peering down at the screen but not comprehending any of the words.

“And who are you texting?” 

“Hyunjin.”

“Hyunjin!” Dasom sang, already tipsy from the soju she downed while you were busy typing away.

“And what does Mr. Popular want?"

Hyunjin [07:19 PM] wanna help me practice? 

Author's note pt.2: There's one thing I'd like to say regarding this chapter. When it comes to significant others, situation ships, partners, etc do not ever let anyone speak to you in a condescending matter. It doesn't matter how upset they are or what you've done for them to explode, you should never, and I really mean NEVER let anyone talk down to you. The only reason I didn't make MC obliterate Mingi is for the sake of the story, otherwise I'd have her drag him along the streets of Seoul like a dog, lmao. Anyway, if anyone speaks to you like Mingi did to MC in their fighting scene, please either leave/break up or put them in their place. You deserve to be treated with respect and love as much as anyone else.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return: Chapter Three

Some Friendly Advice

This is a fullblown multichapter fic now. Get ready for a slowburn mutual pining fic full of love and angst and so much drama. I'm sorry in advance (if you want to be tagged in any follow up just reply to this post or send me a message!) Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 5k

Part One | Part Four | Table of Contents | Read on A03

You woke up in a bed that wasn’t yours and a room that was much too dark to be a bunkhouse. Marco must’ve brought you back to his cabin after you fell asleep at the party. How embarrassing. You hadn’t even drank that much. Yesterday must've been more exhausting than you realized. 

You stretched out your arms, trying to push the sleep out of your body to start the day. Your hand pushed against another body, which was odd. Marco didn’t usually share a bed with you, but it happened sometimes. 

“What time is it?” You groaned.

“Not sure.”

The voice that definitely didn’t belong to Marco made you pause. It was hoarse, so it took you a few moments to place it. 

“Ace?” Your voice caught in your throat as you spoke. 

“Hi.”

You suddenly felt very claustrophobic, sharing such a small space with your commander. When it was Marco you never minded, but this was Ace. And you shared a bed with him last night. You didn’t even remember leaving the party. How on earth did you end up here, in this small and very private room?

Ace must’ve sensed your discomfort. “Nothing happened,” he quickly assured you. “Marco’s door was locked, so I brought you in here to sleep.” 

You raised your eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see it. You didn’t believe him. Not completely. 

“So why am I in bed with you?”

“Oh. Uh, well-” He sounded abnormally nervous as he stammered on his words, trying to find an explanation. “Uhm, you…kind of asked me to join you?”

Your mouth dropped open, unable to hide your shock. “Bullshit,” you hissed.

“I swear!” Ace said. “I was going to sleep on the floor, I-”

A sharp knock cut him off, and both of your eyes cut to the door. 

“Ace!” Marco’s voice called from the other side. “Wake up, man! Pops wants to talk to you.”

You could feel Ace tense at Marco’s words, and you found yourself concerned as well. Nothing happened on the Moby Dick without your father knowing about it. You weren’t sure if that included who spent the night in which rooms, but you prayed that your father didn’t concern himself with things so trivial. 

Ace cleared his throat, his eyes darting around the room nervously. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”

You scowled at him and his nervous behavior. “If we didn’t do anything, why are-”

You had been whispering, but Ace clamped a hand over your mouth and threw a finger to his lips, silently begging you to be quiet. 

Marco’s voice hummed disapprovingly from outside the door. “Ace? Come on.”

You heard the door knob jiggle as Marco tried to enter the room, but thankfully Ace had locked it last night. 

“I’ll meet you there!” Ace called out, slight desperation in his voice. You knew that wouldn’t go unnoticed by Marco. 

“No way,” Thatch’s muffled voice came from outside the door. “Hurry it up with whoever you got in there and let’s go.”

So it wasn’t just Marco waiting outside. You squinted your eyes in suspicion at Thatch’s words, but Ace just shook his head at you, begging you to be silent. 

“I promise I’ll explain everything later, okay?” he whispered as softly as he could. “But I swear on my life, I would never-”

“Ace!” Marco’s voice came again, and you heard a chorus of laughter outside the door.

“Coming!” Ace yelled to the group congregating outside your door. He redirected his attention to you and whispered one last thing. “I would never take advantage of you, or anyone, like that. I swear. We’ll talk later, just stay hidden until we all leave.”

With those words, he jumped out of bed and threw the cover over you. You heard him shuffling around the room getting dressed, and you were thankful for the blanket covering your face. It hid your reddened cheeks from your imagination going wild. A small part of you wanted to peek out from under the covers, but your morning had already been filled with enough embarrassment. 

“Damn, Ace,” Curiel hollered through the door. “Who on earth do you have in there? You must be taking your sweet time-”

You heard the creak of the door opening, and you froze. You were under the blanket and safely tucked away from any outsider’s gaze, but you couldn’t help feeling small in this situation. 

“Wish it were you?” Ace teased, cutting Curiel off. 

“Dude, you look horrible!” Thatch barked out, a gaggle of laughs emitting from various commanders. “What poor soul kept you up last night?”

“Whoever it is, I bet they’re feeling it now!” Another voice quipped, one you didn’t recognize. 

You could feel yourself starting to steam with anger, and you forced yourself to calm down. Steam would alert everyone to your presence, and ruin your current anonymity.

“Shut up,” Ace mumbled. He seemed to be equally as annoyed with their jests. He shut the door quickly behind him as you hid under the covers, leaving you alone in the darkness. The sounds of group laughter was shortly followed by heavy footsteps receding, and you finally breathed a sigh of relief. You were finally alone. 

You wanted to believe that Ace had brought you to his room on his own accord, but the end of the night was becoming clearer to you by the second. You had asked Ace to go back to his room, asked him to lay in bed with you. You might’ve even taken it a step further and actually slept with him, if he hadn’t been so uneasy about doing so. 

Ace certainly wasn’t the one to blame in your current situation. But it did seem like he had some kind of reputation amongst his fellow commanders. Their words made your chest hurt, though you weren’t sure why. You barely knew Portgas D. Ace. It all felt complicated, and made your head spin just from thinking about it. 

You groaned, finally removing the cover and looking around the room. Ace’s room was an organized kind of messy. You could see that everything had a place where it kind of belonged. Even if nobody else understood his system, he would. 

He didn’t have a lot of things, but the one recurring thing you did see scattered across his room was, strangely enough, sea shells. All of them were different sizes, shapes, and colors. There were probably hundreds scattered around his room. On his desk, on his nightstand, even along his wall. You would have to ask him about it later, if you could ever muster up the courage to speak to him again. 

You needed to leave. You didn’t want to be back here when Ace and the other commanders returned. Your stomach rumbled in agreement, and you decided that the dining hall would be your next stop. You opened the door and slipped out into the hallway as quietly as you could. As you clicked the door into place, you gave a quick glance around to see if there had been any witnesses, and your eyes met Izou’s. 

Your eyes widened upon the realization. You opened your mouth, debating between begging for his silence or explaining what happened, but Izou held a hand up. 

“None of my business, kid,” he said quickly. “It’s already forgotten.”

Izou darted into his room before you had a chance to form any words, leaving you alone in the hallway. 

“Thank you,” you muttered to both Izou and the universe as you started down the corridor. 

Anyone else would’ve plastered your scandal on the front page of every News Coo they could find. But Izou had always had your back. You weren’t sure why you didn’t go to him for more things instead of Marco. Maybe you should talk to the sixteenth division commander more often.  

It was ending breakfast time in the mess hall, so there weren’t many options left. You grabbed a few pastries and sat down with some of your old friends who were always late risers after a party night. 

“You! You didn’t come back to the bunkhouse last night!” Whitey announced as you sat down next to her. 

You gave her a side glare, and you saw all of your friends perk up at the hint of gossip. 

“I always sleep in Marco’s room on party nights,” you said. Which was the truth, just not the truth about last night. 

“Marco, huh?” a girl you didn’t know said, with deep curiosity. She had fiery red hair and purple lipstick on. “You’re into older guys then?” she asked.

“Ew,” you said, disgusted with her implication. “Marco is like my brother.” You took a bite of the raspberry pastry you had grabbed. “Or maybe like my uncle?”

“Your hot brother-uncle,” Epoida corrected.

You wrinkled your nose at the thought. “Gross, Epoida.”

“We all have our own tastes, hunny.”

“Clearly.”

“So what’s yours?” the red-haired girl asked you. She was watching you closely, making you a little self-conscious about your disheveled appearance. 

“Y/N is the second division strategist now,” Brew said, sitting down next to the red-haired girl. “That title speaks for itself about what she’s into.”

The group turned to look at you in shock. The news must not have spread yet. You wrinkled your nose in disgust again, hoping they didn’t see the blush appearing across your cheeks. 

“You’re one to talk, Brew,” you shot back. “You always loved to-”

“I’m settled down now!” Brew remarked, cutting you off before you could finish your sentence. His arm wrapped around the red-haired girl. “This is Sally, and I’m all hers!”

You gave a soft snicker at that, thinking back on all the times Brew had tried to get with you before you had left. “I guess people really can change,” you said snarkily.

Brew stuck his tongue out at you from behind Sally, which made you snort. At least some things never changed. 

“When are we supposed to hit the next island?” you asked, hoping to change the subject away from love interests. 

“I think tomorrow,” Whitey said, looking out the porthole to the sea. “I hope tomorrow. I need an island day.”

“Makes sense.” You took another bite of your pastry. “We need to restock before the mission next week.”

Apparently that news hadn’t gotten around either, because everyone’s head swiveled to look at you. 

“Mission?” Whitey asked.

“How do you know about a new mission?” Epoida demanded. 

“Oh, I didn’t know it wasn’t public. It’s not finalized yet,” you said. It wasn’t finalized because you hadn’t gotten the list done. Damn Portgas D. Ace for distracting you so much. 

“Did you not know it was a secret because Ace told you?” Brew asked. His voice carried a little tune when he spoke Ace’s name, and you had to grit your teeth to avoid saying something sarcastic. 

“It’s actually because I’m the strategist,” you said between clenched teeth. Your hand had turned into a fist, crushing your pastry. 

“Brew, cut it out!” Whitey came to your defense, rolling her eyes. “Y/N wouldn’t go for a guy like Ace anyway.”

Epoida nodded. “Ace is way too much of a…” she paused, trying to find the right words. 

“Man-whore?” Sally offered.

“Flirt,” Epoida corrected, shooting Sally a look. “He still is a division commander, Sally.”

“Only because he took Y/N’s promised position!” Whitey yelled. 

Her upstart caused a few people to glance your way. “Whitey,” you hissed. “It’s fine. Really.”

“Really?” asked Sally. “I thought you’d be more upset from all the stories I heard about you.”

“I’m really okay,” you said truthfully. “I like working with Ace.”

All of the girls gawked at you, their mouths wide open. But Brew busted out into laughter at your comment. 

“Oh my god,” Brew wheezed out. “He’s already got you wrapped around his finger.”

“Y/N,” Whitey said, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him already.”

“What?!? No, of course I didn’t!” you insisted, though it wasn’t necessarily the truth. You had slept in the same bed as him, but you hadn’t slept with him. It was different.

“I swear he’s slept with half the girls on this ship,” Epoida said. 

“And half the guys,” Brew added, which got a contemplative nod from everyone at the table. 

“Y/N,” Whitey grabbed your shoulders and turned you to stare her straight in the eyes. “You cannot be put under Ace’s spell, okay? Promise me.”

“Whitey, you’re being ridiculous,” you laughed nervously. “He’s not that bad.”

“She’s already been taken,” Brew muttered.

“Poor soul,” Sally said in agreement. 

“You guys!” You yelled, shaking Whitey’s grip off you. “It’s not like that! It just-I couldn't-he wanted-”

“She’s hopeless,” Epoida said. 

“Would you all stop it!?” you hissed. 

“You are going to get your heart broken,” Whitey promised. “Beg Pops to switch divisions. He’ll do it for you. Get as far away from Portgas D. Ace as you can. While you still can. He’s cruel and he’ll only use you. Please trust me on this.”

“Thanks for the advice,” you grumbled, though you didn’t mean it. You had lost your appetite from the conversation, so you picked up your plate and stormed out of the dining hall. 

You needed to work. To distract yourself from everything you had heard at breakfast. Unfortunately, those stupid papers were in Ace’s room, and you hadn’t had the foresight to grab those this morning. And after what you had learned at the breakfast table, you weren’t particularly in the mood to go seek him out and talk to him at the moment. 

Luck seemed to be on your side at the moment, though. The commander's chambers were empty except for Haruta, who eagerly smiled at you when you entered. 

“Hey! How are you?” He asked. “Did you enjoy the party?”

“I did,” you said, politely smiling. “Just have to finish up this report for Pops. Ace isn’t here, is he?”

Haruta frowned at the mention of Ace. “He’s still in the mission meeting.”

“No worries, I think his room is unlocked.” You knew it was; you hadn’t locked it when you left earlier. But you couldn’t tell Haruta that.

You quickly popped into his room, scanning his desk to find the papers he had held hostage last night. They were there, and you scooped them up and left the room. You were about to leave the commander's chamber as well, when you realized something. 

“Hey Haruta, can you help me with something?” You already knew what his answer would be. 

“Whatever you need!” 

You grinned and sat down next to him on the couch. “I don’t know some of these names or their fighting abilities. Can you help me assess them?”

“Sure!” He was practically bouncing from excitement. “I used to be a strategist too, so I know all the info you need.”

“It’s more just a capability ranking, if you don’t mind. I’m trying to keep an open mind,” you explained.

You all went through the two pages of names you were unfamiliar with. You had to admit, Haruta was very helpful in his assessment. It was concise, but included all of the information you needed to know. By the end of your time with him, you knew everyone’s time on the ship, fighting experience, and what devil fruit ability they had. It was extremely helpful.

When you finished the last name, you found yourself sitting and talking with him for a little while. It was refreshing to talk to a familiar face who wasn’t teasing or scolding you. Haruta had been on the ship for a long time. Not as long as you, obviously, but he had joined the Whitebeards when he was a kid. It was the only family he had, just like how you had been. 

You both talked about what you learned and how you grew in your two years. Haruta had become a commander right before you left, and it was clear now that your father knew what he was doing when he appointed him. He really seemed to grow into a great person and commander. His appointment had sparked your journey to Wano, though you didn’t tell him that. 

“There she is!” Marco’s voice boomed at the entry to the common room. 

Both you and Haruta turned to look at him and the others coming into the room. 

“There’s a strategy meeting tomorrow morning! I’ve been looking all over the ship trying to find you.”

“That’s my cue,” you mumbled, gathering up your stuff.

“You don't have to go!” Haruta pleaded. A part of you didn’t want to go either, but you had work to do and distractions to avoid. 

“Ace will be here in a second,” Marco said. “Pops asked the three mission commanders to hang back.”

You ignored Marco, choosing to address Haruta before you left. “It was lovely catching up with you. Let’s do it again soon?”

You hadn’t meant to say it loud enough for all the other commanders to hear, but you could see them all exchanging glances in your peripheral vision. You chose not to comment on it, and instead walked out of the room, heading for the library. 

You stopped at your bunkhouse to change into a fresh pair of clothes and freshened up before you went to work for the day. As Haruta had explained each person’s abilities, you made plenty of notes about where they should be positioned, now all you had to do was write it up into a formal report. 

By the end of the day, your strategy report was 4 pages long. You had the fourth division flanking the left side with an additional twelve members from the second division, and the eleventh division flanking the right with fourteen members from the second division. The rest of the second division would hang back and assist as needed, with communication being made through transponder snails. 

It would work. You were certain. It was the safest maneuver for everyone involved, and it allowed extra security if there were any surprises or change in plans. It gave flexibility and a solid offense. Satisfied with your work, you took your papers back to your bunkhouse and placed them in your bedside drawer. 

You had managed to successfully keep Portgas D. Ace off of your mind for the entire day. Until you walked into the dining hall. Your eyes managed to instantly find him, and he smiled at you, giving you a little wave to come join him in the dinner line. 

You quickly averted your eyes, pretending you didn’t see him. Trying your best to ignore the heat rising to your face, you looked for Whitey, and found her further back in the secondary line. You walked over to join her and Epoida, laughing and chatting with other crew members. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, stepping in line with them. 

The two individuals you didn’t know stared at you, but Whitey and Epoida smiled at your arrival. 

“Still mad about this morning?” Epoida asked cautiously. Her eyes flitted over behind you to where Ace was standing, and she smirked. 

“This morning?” you asked, trying to remember. You were certain she didn’t know about your night with Ace, so she must’ve been talking about breakfast. 

They had made you angry in the moment, but you had time to cool off. Reflecting now, they were only trying to warn you about the kind of person Ace was. You were grateful for that. 

Epoida leaned in close to you to whisper in your ear. “He’s watching, you know.”

“You think he likes the show?” you sarcastically responded, trying to show it didn’t phase you. 

The act would’ve worked, but your devil fruit ability betrayed you. You could feel the tips of your ears burning, and your hair around them started to singe. Epoida bursted into a cackle at your embarrassment, and you shoved her away from you. You had to resist the urge to glance over at Ace, knowing that’s exactly what Epoida wanted you to do. 

Your back was to the room, so you didn’t see him approaching. But you did see everyone else’s eyes getting big, and then you heard Ace’s cool voice from directly behind you. 

“Hey ladies,” he said, his hand resting on your shoulder. You flinched at the closeness of his voice, and ignited your skin where he touched you, causing him to pull back in pain. 

“Sorry. Forgot,” he mumbled, rubbing his hand. “Do you mind if I steal this lovely lady away from you all for a moment? Got commander stuff to talk about.”

“Commander stuff,” Whitey mocked. “Right.”

Ace gave Whitey a nervous glance and flashed her a smile, but it wasn’t as confident as usual. 

“You can talk to me here,” you stated. “We’re amongst allies.”

“Right..” Ace said, looking around the circle. 

It appeared that even though you were among allies, Ace was not. All of the others in the circle were glaring at him as if he had kicked a puppy on his way over here. 

“So what’s up?” you asked, trying to ignore your friend’s gaze.”

“Oh, right.” Ace turned his attention to you, and you struggled not to get lost in his spotted freckles or his dark eyes. “There’s a strategy meeting tomorrow. Figured we could go through the names of the divisions and I could help you write up a report for it.”

“Already done,” you said coolly. “Haruta helped me out this morning and I got the report written.”

“Oh,” Ace said. He was staring at you with a confused look on his face, as if he were waiting for something more. You could hear the girls next to you stifling their laughs. 

“You can look at it if you want,” you offered, unsure of what else he needed. 

“No.” Ace blinked, as if he were trying to comprehend what to do next.  “No, I trust you.”

“Cool.” You turned your attention away from him. “So anyway Epoida, this morning I was just in a bad mood. Better now, thanks for checking.”

You could still feel him behind you, just out of your view. Everyone else in the group kept glancing at him.

“Ace?” you asked, turning back around to face him. 

“Yeah?”

“Did you need something else?”

“No,” Ace said, looking at the rest of the group. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”

“Sounds good. Bye.”

You waited for him to walk away before you turned to face your friends again. 

“Dude,” Epoida said. “He’s trying to get with you so hard.”

“He is not.” You rolled your eyes. 

“He definitely is,” one of the girls said. “When he puts his hands on people’s shoulders like that…”

“The Mark of Portgas D. Ace!” the other girl said, giggling. “You have to sleep with him now. It’s only a matter of time.”

“And then he’ll leave you,” Whitey said bitterly. “Onto the next shiny thing.”

“You guys are being dramatic,” you said, but you felt a knot of jealousy forming in your stomach. 

“Happened to me,” one of the girls said. “And Whitey.”

“It did not!” Whitey said. “We did not-”

“Oh right,” the girl waved Whitey off. “You never made it home with him.”

“Shut up!” Whitey hissed, her face flooding with pink. “That was a few months ago! It doesn’t even matter!”

“Doesn’t it?” the girl taunted. You got a feeling that their argument was deeper and more malicious than either girl was letting onto. 

“Can we stop talking about him?” you let out an exasperated sigh. “I feel like he’s all I ever hear about.”

“That’s because it’s begun.” Epoida wiggled her fingers at you like she was putting you under a spell. “He’s all you’ll ever hear about from now on.”

“He’s always been the talk of the ship,” one of the girls said. “Something you’ll just have to live with.”

The girls started talking amongst themselves again, about other crewmates and possibilities of an island soon, but Whitey was unnaturally quiet. 

“Whitey,” you mumbled to her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Her eyes were glassy when she looked at you. “He’s no good, Y/N. No good.”

She ran off, leaving you alone with the three chatty girls. You didn’t care for their conversation much, but Whitey’s reaction bothered you. Not many people could make her emotional, especially over something that happened in the past. 

Portgas D. Ace made your heart flutter. But apparently he did that to a lot of people, and he had hurt one of your best friends in the process. You wouldn’t let yourself fall into the same fate. You refused to do so. Not just for your own preservation, but for Whitey too. 

You grabbed your dinner to go and headed for the library for a quiet space. You needed to go over your plans one more time to check for any bias or oversights. You sat silently, reading over your proposal as you shoveled food into your mouth. The strategy appeared to be airtight with the information you had been given, but you were afraid of missing something obvious.

“Thought you said you were done with that,” a voice teased, and you cursed Ace for finding you so quickly. 

“Just going over it one last time,” you replied simply, not looking up from your papers 

“Nervous for tomorrow?” he asked, sitting down in the seat next to you.

“No,” you lied, which prompted a chuckle from Ace. You were normally a good liar, but Ace seemed to always be able to know whether you were being truthful or not. 

He grabbed the papers from you and glanced over them. It wasn’t nearly long enough for him to read even a paragraph before he nodded and put the papers down. “Looks good.”

You scowled at him, reminded of Whitey and tears she had. “This may be a joke to you, but people’s lives are on the line.”

“It’s not a joke to me,” he said, looking at you with a confused gaze. “I just trust your ability to plan.”

“You don’t know me well enough to trust me,” you shot back. “Read it and give feedback.”

Ace looked at you for a moment, and you held his gaze with an intense stare. He resigned with a sigh and began reading your work. 

You were surprised that he did so without little argument, and your heart skipped a little at his willingness to help you. But Whitey quickly came back to your mind, and you steeled your emotions. Portgas D. Ace may be a good commander, but he wasn’t a good person. 

He quietly read for a few minutes while you doodled in the margins of some old notes, trying to distract yourself from him. 

“I only have one suggestion,” Ace said as he finished up the report. 

“Which is?”

“You need to give the fourth division two more members. Or take away two members from the eleventh division.”

You scowled. “But the eleventh division is less skilled. Which is why I gave them more resources.”

“I know that, but it will still offend Kingdew and his subordinates. You give them the same number of people at first to prove they’re equals. Then we’ll deploy more people at the start of the battle when they ask for assistance.”

“But the goal is to make them as even as possible from the start.”

“But we need them to be cooperative. Giving one person less people will cause hostility on each side for different reasons,” Ace explained. “Put Clavis and Mateo under Kingdew, move Iliana to Thatch. Take Philric, Ulster, and Maxie off the initial assault. It’ll even out their abilities and firepower of each side without being too obvious that Kingdew has stronger assistance on his team.”

You hummed, thinking about his suggestion. “I really wanted Clavis to be available for the first rescue team.”

“It’ll be fine,” Ace reassured. “It will spare Kingdew and Thatch any problems with superiority. One man won’t make that much of a difference.”

“You would.” It slipped out before you had a chance to think. 

“Well, yeah,” he agreed. He looked up at you, flashing his signature smile. “I am the ace, after all.”

You couldn’t help it. Your heart fluttered. You could feel yourself falling for this stupid boy, and you hated yourself for it. You had to stop this before it got too out of hand.

“Clavis and Mateo to Kingdew, Iliana to Thatch, Philric, Ulster, and Maxie to the first rescue team. I’ll make the adjustments.”

 You reached for the papers, but he held them away from you. 

“Can we talk about last night?” His voice was low when he spoke so nobody would hear him. Even though there was nobody in the library, you glanced around nervously. 

“I know what I need to know about you, Ace. There’s nothing more to talk about.”

He looked hurt by the harshness of your words, and you did your best to act like you didn’t care. 

He sighed, holding the papers out. “I just wanted to make sure you knew-”

“Nothing happened,” you finished, snatching the papers back. “I know. Thanks.”

You gathered your stuff quickly and got up to leave. 

“And nothing will be happening,” you clarified. You looked down at him, still in his seat. “I’m sorry if I gave you mixed signals, so let me be clear now. I may be your strategist, but that’s all I am.”

God, he looked so sad. It almost made you want to take it all back; to kiss his lips right then and there in that dark and dusty little library. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. You refused to be used by your commander, even if you broke your own heart in the process.

[cryptidcorners]

Hello again! I have yet another request to ask of my favorite Mike writer, if you are in want of something to make. How about Abby’s babysitter girl and her are playing/reenacting Abby’s favorite fairy tale, then Mike steps in just in time and Abby demands he come over to play Prince Charming. Humiliating Mike, amusing the babysitter, and then also stirring up romantic feelings all the while. Thanks so much!

Crown - Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

Description: Mike is dragged into another one of Abby's plays, being forced to play Prince Charming with you as some warrior princess as the pairing. As Abby's creative tale unfolds, she's completely oblivious to your romantic tension with her older brother.

# requested by @/scribblesandsherlock

Media: FNaF!Movie

Character: Mike Schmidt (+ Abby)

Tags: Babysitter!Reader, Flusteted Mike, Domestic, Fluff, Playing With Abby, Fantasy Themed, Romantic Tension, Slice of Life, Friends to ? ? ?, Some Flirting, Cute Stuff, Feminine Terms used !

No Warnings.

read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist

"And then—" Abby was holding a cardboard tube colored messily over your head, blessing you with the imaginary title of "Warrior queen of the Rabbit Kingdom." which held a decent ring to it. Trying hard to desperately not break out of character, you giggled and replied as seriously as you could: "Thank you for bestowing this honor on me, Queen Schmidt."

Abby giggled and cleared her throat, shaking in excitement. "Now, I give you the honor of my son. Prince—uhm, Schmidt." She shrugged at you with a smile, then shifted back into her Queen Schmidt personality. "So you can get married and live happily ever after," her eyes wandered around for a toy suitable to fit the role. You gazed around too, "Oh, no. Is your son, perhaps, missing?"

"I hope not." Abby said, "You'll see him." she scavenged around and you sat comfortably. Until you saw Mike walk into the room, fixing the color of his sweater, unknowing of the world he was about to accidentally walk into, "Hey Abs, have you seen my—" Mike halted. "What is happening?"

"Hey, you can be the prince." Abby said, "I think my crown can fix you."

Mike raised his hands defensively, "Oh, no. I'm not good at playing royalty." he shook his head. "Besides, I need to go shopping."

"When will you be back?" You asked in your normal tone of voice.

"Three," he said. "Three-ish?"

"Ah,"

"Mike, please." Abby begs, tugging her sluggish older brother by his sleeve as he stumbles hunched toward to level with her. Mike huffs, "Do I really need to be a prince? Why not a knight, or something cool?" he humors lightly. His eyes wash up at you, and he can't resist giggling at your costume made from scratch. It was impressive what Abby could make with her scrapes of material and tape. "No, she's the the knight." Abby pointed. Amused, you respond, "and a princess."

"And a princess." Abby adds, "And a witch!"

"Oh. So, I don't get any powers?" Mike says dryly, though there's a scrape of playfulness wrapped behind his blunt demeanour. He sat up and shut his eyes promptly for Abby to delicately place a cardboard mock crown on Mike's head. Abby smiled, before replying honestly, "That's because you're lame. Maybe next time you can be a princess, witch and knight."

"Goodie." Mike was obviously trying to drag a laugh out of you with his dramatic tone. You could see his eyes twinkled when it worked. There was a circle of stuffed animals and dolls, all clad in an organic costume made from Abby's workshop of a room.

"Okay, now we have a prince." She discarded the toy in her hand. "Now, you two can get married. And rule The Rabbit Kingdom."

"Married?" Mike knew it was pretend but his face flushed. "I didn't know that,"

"I am a princess, and you're the prince." You explained, almost toying with him. Mike chuckled, covering his face in light embarrassment.

"Yeah, Mike. Catch up." She cleared her throat. Mike was enjoying it much more than he thought he would. Maybe it was the idea of marrying you that sounded appealing, but that was ridiculous. He didn't love you. Did he?

Abby grabbed a floppy cat with buttoned eyes and calico patterns, making a deep voice. "I am the priest, and I say, that—we are gathered here today to see a prince and a princess get married. And, well . . ." She trailed off. "I don't know what a priest says, so. You're married!" She dropped the toy and tube together. Raising her hands out dramatically with a fun smile. "You can kiss now. Like couples do," she snickered.

You and Mike got close, giggling and awkwardly talking over each other as you tried to find a loophole. Mike swore his face was as hot as a furnace, and your stomach was twisted with butterflies caught in a trap. Abby broke the strange mental tango between you two, "You can hug if you want."

"Oh, right." You gazed at Abby, then back at Mike.

"Yeah, we can do that." He said. And so you did. Falling into a tight embrace for a couple seconds. Mike wanted to be longer, but he had errands. Plus, he doubt you'd stay long enough. Abby giggled, "You guys are husband and wife, now! Awesome." she looked around, eyes plotting something. She ran towards her room,"One second, I need to get something! Don't leave, Mike."

Yet, as soon as she disappeared. Mike stood up with a grunt, sighing. With a gentle smile, you gazed up at him. "Going so soon? We just got married."

"Very funny." Mike's cheeks flared as he removed the crown delicately and ran his fingers through his curls. He sighed and grabbed his wallet that was sitting longingly on the tabletop. "Tell her I got kidnapped by some monster or something, I'll think of a way to sneak in."

"Well, you got the right girl." You walked up to him, grabbing the door. "I am a warrior too."

"You're very in character." Mike hummed. "Is this going to be referenced often? Is it gonna be a thing?"

"Maybe, maybe not." You chuckled.

Once Mike had left his house. He felt an intense whirlwind of emotions. Romantic emotions. Loving feelings and sick stomach aches. Mike knew he wasn't a real prince, nor were you the ruler of some Bunny Palace but part of him was thinking of a life like that. Not with royalty or talking animals, but just you two. Married. The thought wasn't too strong, yet. But it kept him smiling when he was shopping. All the way through.

[lonely-moon-artist-blog]

Le Dialtown Mob

E.

Yeah I know I skipped a day. The reason for that is that I completely forgot to check the theme and I was thinking about Dialtown Mob like..

FOR A DAY LOL.

So gonna ramble like a bit about my favorite scenes and. I gonna say it's probably just every time Shooty and Stabby are on screen in third chapter. I think they're so dumb. And yeah I do know that they're probably not the best people or something but.. I dunno I just really like em. AS CHARACTERS. <Liar.>

As for this day I decided to draw FOUR CHARACTERS. And.. Uh.. Wow I had enough energy for that. I'm actually proud of myself. Looty and Smashy are also here. Those are their names right.?? Uhm I'm a bit not sure to be honest. But still I'll tag them just in case.

Like.. Basically they've been seen in one scene.. But still.. I decided to draw them too. Yeah.

Yeah I used this small as fuck picture as a reference. I remembered that there might be someone who drew them BUT I COULDN'T FIND THAT FOR THE LIFE OF ME-

Ahem.. Okay. That's all. I may take some quick rests from some themes but I WILL FINISH THIS CHALLENGE.

Even if it will cost me my sanity.