#team envy forever

[smoothoperador]

.

[erinaeris]

Laios Touden and the Responsibility of Power

First off, let me gush just a bit about how fucking STRONK this man is. Olympic weightlifters are dying of sheer envy and lust over this man. He is a FUCKING POWERHOUSE.

My favorite panels ever, and judging by the cropping of the second photo, Tumblr agrees.

AHEM, where was I?

Ah yes. He's not just strong and incredibly hot, my man is literally an invasive species in this dungeon. He knows every single weak spot of every monster Thistle tried to throw at him and when he finds it he just fucking RAMS HIMSELF AT THEM AND TAKES THEM DOWN.

And when he's a dwarf HE LITERALLY BENDS STEEL.

"Beat Namari at arm wrestling"? My boy, she wouldn't let you anywhere near because you'd FUCKING BREAK HER HER HAND ALONG WITH THE TABLE. (It's such a fucking shame we didn't see Senshi at least raising an (perfectly plucked except it just grows that way naturally) eyebrow in the background when he sees this. Alas, he was too distracted by his hair.)

But I mentioned responsibility, didn't I? Strength is power in the dungeon, and we all knows what comes with great power. And Laios is, in fact, very responsible with that power!

(Futther examples under the cut, wee bit spoilers for anime watchers)

This scene lives rent-free in my head forever, because of two things: Thistle suddenly realizing just what the hell he's up against,

And Laios breaking Thistle's arm.

Now, I think Laios didn't mean to actually break his arm here, he's just half-blind and dizzy and knows he has to restrain Thistle or it will all go to shit. So that's what he does. The move you see above is a restraining hold. The point is that the person pinned down can't struggle much because the position of the arm presses the suprascapular nerve, so it hurts a lot, but unless they're held that way for too long they'll be fine.

But Thistle is TINY and elves are generally fine-boned. I think Laios really did just underestimate his strength.

And the moment the dragons aren't an IMMEDIATE THREAT anymore?

Laios heals him. Thistle's a better mage than him by miles, he could have done it himself. But no. Laios does it. He was too rough, too careless with his strength, and he immediately backtracked, fixed what he broke, and continued with more mindfullness.

And these are just the examples that stuck in my mind the most. And it happens often enough that the team isn't even fucking surprised! Laios' strength would 100% scare people who only saw him in a barfight and didn't know anything else about him. Hell, the other adventurers they meet fucking quiver before this guy who just took down a monster they had nightmares about in one blow, up until he opens his mouth and they relax. You put more malevolent software in that sort of hardware and he'd be the next Shadow Governor.

But Laios is Laios. He's a gentle soul at heart (a Great Pyrenese, specifically, the gentlest souls ever unless you're out for their flock) and he is VERY CAREFUL with his strength, ESPECIALLY around his team. Chilchuck, who is literally half his size and underfed to boot, can smack Laios as much as he wants with ZERO fear because Laios is aware he can hurt Chilchuck by literally tripping over him, so he just stays still and lets Chilchuck smack at him. I'd be surprised if he ever managed to leave a bruise. Chilchuck has to aim at Laios' weak spot (back of the knee here) just to get Laios to notice him!

But because I have some experience with marital arts and close combat, I think the fight with Shuro exemplifies my point so fucking well! Laios is HURT here, he's living every autistic person's worst nightmare.

And he HOLDS BACK. His restraint is fucking IMMACULATE.

Shuro is fucking lucky Laios still liked him when he started talking shit, because he would have broken his spine otherwise. Laios doesn't even take the fight seriously! He starts with a fucking SLAP.

Shuro retaliates with an actual punch (that does nothing but piss him off)

Laios wobbles. Shuro HITS THE DIRT.

And this is the part where he realizes just how outside his weight category he is. Shuro definitely has technique on his side, but that means jackshit when you need ten blows to to even bruise your opponent, but one hit from them will leave you drinking through a straw for a week. For a second there, Shuro thought he was in ACTUAL DANGER.

But instead of finishing the job, Laios tries to talk him down, which just sets him off again. Man was at his fucking LIMIT, and it snapped. Self-preservation who?

And the best part is? Shuro is throwing all his strength behind his punches and Laios just takes them, but Laios? He mostly pushed Shuro around!

They're mostly grappling here, precisely because Laios is very conscious his friend is pretty fragile right now.

And when he does have enough?

Shuro is flat on the ground again, and Laios has a black eye and a bloody nose. He sits down and five minutes later he's ready to go! Like yes, Shuro was at a low point here, but he's been mowing through monsters at only a bit slower pace than Laios' party. He's no weakling regardless. And Laios had to HOLD BACK SO HE WOULDN'T HURT HIM. And it's so obvious that Maizuru takes one look at the two of them and leaves them to their toussling.

When I saw her reaction I had to scroll back and take another look, because I was sure she would intervene! But she doesn't! She is aware of Laios' strength, she has to be, and she doesn't lift a finger to help her precious charge. She knows the big dog he's wrestling with knows to watch his strength.

And that's my whole point: my boi is STRONK AF! And he is very aware of his strength, and how he could hurt the people around him is he wasn't careful, so he is ALWAYS CAREFUL. He has deeply internalized the fact that to have strength is to be careful with it, to use it in service of people rather than to hurt them (possibly from his dad). He is going to SUCH a good king! He's not going to like the job but by GOD he will do it really well.

And I will give my right arm to see a fic about the first corrupt lord/governor/courtier who attempts to misuse their authority for their own gain. Kabru's gonna have to talk Laios out of an execution.

[v6quewrlds]

ALL MINE, TEE HIGGINS.

pairing⠀⁎⠀tee higgins x ex!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀7.4k.

summary⠀⁎⠀two years ago, you thought you had left tee higgins in the past. both ja'marr and tee's mother have been waiting to bring you back into the loop, at any means necessary.

author's note⠀⁎⠀i think i've written and rewritten this fic at least 4 times in the last two months. pls suspend your disbelief and imagine car sex isn't a semi-miserable experience. lost the original request for this but sorry it took me forever, here it is <3 warnings⠀⁎⠀18+ mdni, smut, jealous!tee, mama tee & ja'marr meddling, forced proximity trope, car sex, fingering, male masturbation, oral sex (m. receiving), facial lol, feelings, etc.

You took your seat, balancing your nachos in one hand and your soda in another. You couldn't believe you had agreed to come to the game tonight. The stadium lights reflected off the field, creating a kaleidoscope of color against the night sky. The roar of the crowd washed over you like a wave of nostalgia, a stark contrast to the quiet solace of your usual Sunday nights at home. You had hoped the distance between you and the game would be enough to keep you from seeing Tee, but the universe had a twisted sense of humor.

When Ja'Marr had bribed you with free tickets and the promise of seeing your hard work on his shoulder in action from the VIP suite, you had felt a flutter of excitement. It was the kind of experience you had always dreamed of, a chance to see the game you loved from a perspective most fans could only envy. But the moment you walked in and saw Tee's mother, your heart had sunk. You knew that look in her eye, the one that said she'd been waiting for this moment for nearly two years.

You knew Tee and Ja'Marr were extremely close, but you hadn't anticipated their families sharing a suite for the season - an oversight on your part that had led you straight into the lion's den. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the awkwardness to come. Tee's mother, gave you a knowing smile - one that mirrored Tee's - and a wink that made your heart race.

"Is that who I think it is?" You heard Tee's mother wonder out loud as you approached the suite. Your heart skipped a beat. You had hoped you could fly under the radar, but you should have known better. Tee's mother was sharp, and she hadn't missed a beat when it came to her son's love life.

You had met Tee's mother twice before, both times ending in an unspoken promise that you would help her son get his life in check. Now, as the woman's gaze fell on you, you felt a strange mix of dread and comfort. She was the kind of person who didn't miss a beat, and she wasn't about to let you slip away without making her intentions known. She wanted you back with Tee, and she wasn't afraid to play Cupid.

"I'm so happy you made it," Tee's mother said, her voice warm and welcoming despite the tension in the air. "It's so good to see you, baby." The Southern warmth enveloped you. You forced a smile, your eyes glancing at the field where Tee was warming up with his team.

"It's nice to see you too," you managed to say, your voice tight. You knew that the woman's welcoming tone was a loaded one, filled with expectations and hopes for a reunion you weren't quite ready to entertain.

Tee's mother leaned in, whispering in your ear. "You look gorgeous, darling. Tee's so hard-headed, but I know he'll be happy to see you." You felt a warmth creep up your neck as you took a sip of your soda, hoping the cool liquid would calm the storm brewing inside you. You knew that you had to be as normal as you could muster, especially considering the circumstances of your breakup with Tee. But as you watched Tee on the field, your thoughts drifted to those passionate nights the two of you had shared, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was still something there.

The game kicked off, and you found yourself lost in the excitement of the plays, the cheers of the crowd, and the occasional glance at Tee, his muscles rippling as he sprinted across the field. Every time he caught a pass, celebrated with his teammates, or flashed that million-dollar smile, you felt a twinge of something you had been trying so hard to bury. You focused on Ja'Marr's performance, nodding with professional pride at each catch and cringing at each hit he took.

The game ended just as explosively as it had started, with the Bengals claiming victory. The suite erupted into a roar of cheers and laughter, and you found yourself being swept up in the excitement despite your apprehension about seeing Tee. As the families began to filter out of the suite and into the hallway leading to the players' exit, you tried to hide behind Ja'Marr's parents, hoping to go under the radar just until you could congratulate him. But fate had other plans.

As the players began to pour out of the locker room to greet their families, you were quickly spotted by various team members who had become familiar faces at your clinic. They greeted you with smiles and updates on their recoveries, making small talk that you returned with genuine enthusiasm.

Tee stepped out of the locker room, standing head and shoulders above the vast majority of the crowd. His eyes scanned the hallway, looking for his mother and Ja'Marr's family. The sight of your signature sleek jet-black hair tucked between the sea of heads stopped him in his tracks. The jean shorts and jersey you had worn teasingly hid your curves in a way that had his thoughts drifting to the nights the two of you had spent together. He felt the heat of his shock and desire mingling, unsure which would win out.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder as he stood frozen in his spot. Ja'Marr's laugh only seemed to push his irritation further as he watched you interact with his teammates, all smiles and gentle touches that made his blood boil. "You can thank me later," he said, a smug smirk playing across his lips as he stepped in front of Tee to greet his family. Tee's mother pulled Ja'Marr in for a quick hug, whispering, "It's about time you got her down here, good job," before releasing him and turning her attention to her brooding, silent son.

The tension in the air was palpable as you and Tee locked eyes over his mother's shoulder. He couldn't read the emotions playing out on your face, but he knew you were just as annoyed as he was. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself before he made a scene. He didn't know what to say to you, didn't know how to act with you so close to him. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the victory night for everyone with your personal drama.

Ja'Marr reached you before Tee could say a word, pulling you into a warm hug and breaking your eye contact with Tee. "Thanks for everything," he said, sincerity in his voice. "Couldn't have done it without you." The other stray players nodded in agreement, sharing their appreciation for your work. Tee felt his jaw clench, the jealousy bubbling to the surface as he watched you laugh and joke with the men he shared a locker room with.

But as the crowd thinned and the congratulations grew quieter, you turned to leave, your eyes avoiding Tee's gaze. You didn't want to deal with this, not now, not here. Tee's mother, ever the opportunist, called out to you. "How are you getting home, sweetheart?" She feigned innocence.

Your eyes snapped to hers, a silent plea to convince her to ease the pressure. "I'm all good. I didn't want to deal with the parking headache so I ubered over. I'll just order one to get home," you replied, hoping to keep the conversation moving.

Tee's mother, however, had other plans.

"Why don't you let Tee take you home," Tee's mother said, her voice a blend of sweetness and command that left you with little room to argue. To make matters worse, Tee nodded, seeing an opening and taking it without question.

"Yeah, you still live at the same place?" Tee asked, his voice low and gruff. You nodded, unable to hide the irritation in your eyes. You didn't want to be here, didn't want to deal with this, but you had no escape. Tee's mother had set the stage, and now you had to play the part.

"Good," he said decisively, leaving you no room to argue. "I'll take you."

The walk to Tee's car was a silent battle of wills, with each step echoing the unspoken tension that had grown between the two of you. You felt a storm of emotions brewing, a tornado of anger and desire that you hadn't felt since the last time you were together. You were torn between pushing him away and throwing yourself into his arms, but you knew the latter was a dangerous path you couldn't afford to take.

As you approached the sleek black sports car, you could see his eyes scanning the parking lot, looking for any sign of recognition or potential interested eyes. It had always been like this with Tee, a constant dance of public and private personas. You knew the weight of being a public figure's girlfriend - or fuck buddy - all too well, and you weren't sure if you wanted to step back into that world again.

But as the two of you climbed into the car and the door shut behind them, the outside world faded away. The leather seats were perfectly pristine, and the scent of his cologne filled the space, a heady mix that was both comforting and infuriating. You sat in silence, jaws set and tense. You were the first to break it.

"Why'd you say that?" you spat out, your eyes on the floor mat as you fidgeted with the zipper of your purse. "Why would you put me in that situation in front of everyone?"

Tee's grip tightened on the steering wheel, his head shaking, already rejecting your frustration. "What situation? You looked like you was having the time of your life flirting with my teammates," he shot back, the edge in his voice betraying his own jealousy.

"Flirting? I was talking to my patients," you retorted, your voice rising slightly. "But that's always your go-to, isn't it? Accuse me of shit when you know damn well I'm just doing my job." You glanced up at him, your eyes flashing with anger.

Tee met your gaze in the mirror, his jaw tight. "And what about you wearing my boy's jersey?" He gestured towards you, the frustration in his voice palpable. "That's not sending a message?"

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Tee, it is just a jersey. And last time I checked, I can wear whatever the hell I want." The words hung in the air, charged with the electricity of your unresolved feelings.

"Yeah, but why his?" Tee countered, his voice thick with irritation. He started the engine and pulled out of the garage, the tires squealing slightly as he hit the gas. The darkness of the night outside the car mirrored the tumultuous emotions inside.

"It's not just about the jersey, Tee," you sighed, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and longing. "It's about respecting me as a person. You don't own me. I can't believe we're even having this conversation."

Tee clenched his teeth, feeling his blood pressure rise. "You're right, I don't own you," he said, his eyes never leaving the road ahead. "But you know damn well that ain't what this is about." His hand reached over and rested on your thigh, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles.

You felt a shiver run through your body despite the warmth of his touch. "Then what is it about?" you asked, your hand hesitating before pushing his hand away. You shifted in your seat, crossing your arms tightly.

Tee's hand hovered over your thigh for a moment before retreating. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's about... us. And how we always seem to end up in the same fucked up situation." He paused, glancing over at you before continuing. "It's about how every time I see you, I want to love on you so badly it hurts."

Your eyes searched his profile in the dim car light, the glow of passing streetlights casting shadows on his sharp features. "And what about when you don't see me?" you challenged, your voice laced with bitterness. "You still get to fuck on whoever you want, whenever you want. But the second I try to live my life, you act like I'm the one who's wrong."

Tee's eyes never left the road, groaning in response to your argument. "You think it's easy for me?" he bit back. "You think I don't miss you every fucking day? That I don't lay in bed at night thinking about you?" His voice grew softer, the anger momentarily subsiding. "But every time we talk, it's the same shit. You push me away, and I don't know how to fix it."

You stared at your hands in your lap, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. You had missed him too, but you weren't about to admit that. Not now. Not when you had worked so hard to move on. "You can't fix it if you don't know what's broken," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the hum of the car's engine.

Tee sighed. "Then tell me. Tell me what the fuck I did wrong, because I've been playing this shit on repeat in my head for two years, and I can't figure it out." His frustration was clear, but so was the desperation in his voice.

You turned to face him, your eyes searching his for a moment before you spoke. "You didn't do just one thing wrong, Tee. It's like you never knew how to just be with me without all the drama and the games. And when we tried to get serious, you just... you just didn't get it."

Tee's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Get what?" he asked, his voice tight.

You let out a long, exasperated sigh. "You didn't get that I needed more than just... this," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "I needed someone who could handle being with me without all the bullshit, without treating me like a fucking trophy to show off to your boys. I just wanted you to be able to chill the fuck out around me."

Tee remained silent, his eyes focused on the road as he digested your words. The silence grew heavier, each passing second feeling like an eternity. Finally, he spoke. "I know I fucked up. But you gotta know that when I'm around you, it's like... I just can't control myself. I can't think right."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't deny the flutter in your stomach at his confession. "Well, maybe you should learn," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. But you knew he had a point. Whenever the two of you were together, it was like your emotions had a mind of their own, a tornado that wreaked havoc on everything around you.

"I'm trying," Tee said, his voice gruff. "But it's hard when I see you with other guys, talking with my mom, wearing another man's jersey..." He trailed off, his voice thick with unspoken frustration and something else - something that made your heart race.

"I'm not with anyone, Tee," you said, your voice softer now. "I've been focusing on work, on myself."

Tee glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment too long before returning to the road. "For real?" His voice was tinged with skepticism.

"Yeah, for real," you snapped, feeling the heat of his stare. "Why can't you just believe me?"

Tee didn't respond, his eyes flicking back and forth between the road and your profile. The two of you drove in silence for a few minutes, the tension in the car thick enough to cut with a knife. The city lights flashed by, a blur of color that matched the chaos in your mind. You could feel his eyes on you and the corners of his lips pulling into a smug smile. It was infuriating, but you couldn't help but be drawn in by his magnetic energy.

"I can't stand you," you huffed, your eyes never leaving his profile.

Tee chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You never mean that shit," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill through you. He pulled into your parking garage, looking for a guest spot as he casually added, "When was the last time you got fucked right?"

Your eyes widened in shock, your breath hitching in your throat. "What the hell did you just say to me?" you hissed, your hand itching to reach for the door handle.

Tee's grin grew wider, his teeth flashing in the dim light of the garage. "You heard me," he drawled, pulling into an empty spot. "It's a damn shame you can't remember."

Your hand hovered over the door handle, torn between the desire to cuss him out and the heat that was spreading through you at the thought of your past encounters. "Why are you doing this?" you demanded, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and arousal you couldn't hide.

"Doing what?" Tee feigned innocence, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he turned to look at you. "Just trying to have a conversation, that's all. Remind you of what you've been missing." He stepped out of the car, the sound of the door slamming echoing through the garage.

You sat in the car, seething, trying to compose yourself. You didn't need this shit, not from him. But as you watched him walk around to your side, you knew you couldn't ignore him. You stepped out, your legs wobbly from the mix of emotions. He leaned against the car, arms folded over his broad chest, watching you with a smug look that made you want to scream.

Your eyes squinted, "Tee," you warned, "Don't start with me."

"I'm not starting anything," he said, his voice smoother than you remembered. "You remember that weekend you missed your flight?" Your cheeks grew warm, the memory rushing back. "You were so busy screaming my name, you ain't even notice the time."

Your nostrils flared, but you couldn't argue with that. It had been one of those weekends - passionate and all-consuming. But that was the problem with Tee. He had a way of making everything feel ten times more intense than it should have been, and you had been swept away by it every single time.

"Don't flatter yourself," you said, trying to sound unaffected. "It was just good dick."

Tee's grin never wavered. "Is that all it was to you?" He stepped closer, closing the space between you, your back pressed against the car. "Just good dick?"

Your heart hammered in your chest, his proximity making your head throb. You could feel his warmth, smell his cologne, and it was doing things to you that you didn't want to admit.

"Tee, don't do this to me," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. But it was too late. The dam had broken and you could feel the passion and frustration boiling over.

"You know it wasn't just that," Tee said, his voice dropping to a whisper. His hand reached up, cupping your cheek delicately, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. "It was never just about the sex. Like the week before we broke up, you remember that, don't you?"

Your eyes narrowed, trying to fight the memories that flooded back. That week had been intense, a whirlwind of success after the Bengals won the AFC North Championship, and the private moments you had shared in the aftermath had been more than just physical. "You can't just throw that in my face," you murmured, your voice strained.

Tee stepped closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "But it's the truth, ain't it?" he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "You can't tell me you don't miss that connection."

Your eyes fluttered closed, the memories of your passionate encounters overwhelming you. "Fuck," you breathed, your voice trembling. "Sprayed me with champagne, didn't you?"

Tee's smile grew as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "And then I ate that pussy good, just how you like," he whispered, his hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your breath hitched, and you couldn't stop the images that flashed through your mind. That night had been explosive, a celebration of victory and passion.

Your body responded despite your resistance, and you felt yourself leaning into him, your hand reaching up to push against his chest. But instead of pushing him away, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. You whimpered softly, your resolve wavering.

Tee took this as an invitation, his hand moving to the nape of your neck and pulling you in for a deep, possessive kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, and you could taste the victory of the game on him, the sweetness of his triumph mixing with the bitterness of your past. You kissed him back with a ferocity that surprised even yourself, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions - anger, desire, and a hint of nostalgia. You didn't want to be here, didn't want to feel this way again, but you were powerless against the gravitational pull of your history. As you broke apart for a moment to catch your breath, Tee's eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of surrender.

"Fuck you," you whispered, your eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and need. But even as you said the words, your body betrayed you, arching into his touch, your breasts brushing against his chest.

Tee chuckled against your lips, his hand sliding down to your ass, and squeezing gently. "I'm trying," he murmured, his teeth grazing your bottom lip.

The garage lights were dim, casting shadows over your bodies as you kissed, a silent symphony of passion and anger playing out between the two of you. You felt his other hand move to your waist, pulling you closer. You wanted to push him away, to scream and yell and tell him to leave you alone, but you couldn't. Your body was responding to his touch in a way you hadn't allowed it to in almost two years, and you were powerless to stop it.

With a low growl, Tee whispered, "You want this?" Your eyes searched his, a war of emotions playing out in their depths. Finally, you nodded, and Tee didn't need any more encouragement. He yanked you closer, his mouth devouring yours, his hands roaming over your body, relearning every curve and angle.

"Upstairs?" Tee murmured against your neck, his voice thick with lust.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of desire that clouded your thoughts. "Can't wait that long, backseat's fine," you murmured. The words slipped out before you could think better of it, but once they did, there was no turning back. You crawled into the back seat, shooting him a searing glare as he slapped your ass before climbing in after you.

In the confines of the car, the tension between the two of you was thick. Tee didn't waste time, his hands roaming over your body as if he knew every inch of you. Your resolve crumbled as his lips found your neck, kissing and nibbling along the sensitive skin. You let out a soft moan, your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you straddled his strong thighs.

"You missed this," Tee murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Admit it."

You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your voice steady. "Just good dick, remember?" But your words held no conviction, and Tee's smug smile grew wider. He knew he had you, and the thrill of it was written all over his face. He reached up, cupping your cheek gently. "But it's more than that, baby," he whispered, his voice a seductive purr. "It's always been more."

As he spoke, his hand moved to unbutton your jean shorts. Your chest heaved as you felt his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body that you hadn't felt in what felt like an eternity.

"You’re so fuckin' wet, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Your breath hitched as Tee's fingers found your entrance and circled it with a skill that had you biting back a moan. The friction was exquisite, and you couldn’t help but rock against him, your body begging for more.

"Tee..." you whispered, your voice a mix of warning and need. But he ignored you, his focus solely on the pleasure he was giving you. His fingertips found your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your toes curl in your sneakers. Your eyes fluttered closed as you gave yourself over to the sensation, the anger dissipating like smoke in the wind.

"Just like old times..." Tee murmured as he slid two fingers into you, the sudden fullness making you gasp. The leather of the passenger seat headrest behind your head was cold against your skin as you leaned back, your eyes fluttering closed. The sound of your breathing filled the small space, punctuated by the occasional moan that escaped your lips. You had missed this, the feeling of being filled and desired by someone who knew your body so well and on instinct.

But you weren't about to admit it. Not now, not when you were trying so hard to keep your walls up. "Don't get too cocky," you managed to say, your voice strained. "It's just been a dry spell."

Tee chuckled darkly, his thumb continuing to circle your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. "Dry spell or not, still got the wettest pussy I've ever had," he said, his voice filled with a possessive edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

You couldn't help the moan that escaped you as he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss that left you gasping for air. His hand slid from your neck to your chest, cupping your breast through the jersey and teasing the nipple into a tight peak. You felt his cock strain against his pants, and the urge to feel him inside you was almost too much to bear.

"Take this shit off," he hissed as if suddenly remembering you were wearing Ja'Marr's jersey. The material of the jersey was pulled away from your body, revealing your plain black bra. The sound of the fabric tearing filled the car, echoing the chaotic passion between the two of you. Tee's eyes darkened with desire and a hint of possessiveness as he stared at your exposed skin.

His gaze dropped, and he leaned in to kiss the soft swell of your tits, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin before biting down gently, causing you to gasp and arch your back. His other hand remained between your legs, his fingers moving in and out of you, the rhythm increasing as his kisses grew more urgent.

You felt the beginnings of an orgasm building, your hips moving in sync with his hand. But you didn't want it to end there. You wanted more, needed more. With a growl of frustration, you pushed him back and began to undo your shorts, pulling them down over your legs as Tee chuckled, watching your impatience. You kicked them aside, straddling him again, and reached for his pants.

You leaned down to kiss him, your hand fumbling with his belt buckle. The sound of metal clicking open was music to both your ears. You felt his cock, thick and hard, pressing against the fabric of his briefs. Tee groaned, his hips bucking up to meet your hand as you freed him. The sight of him, so eager and needy, made your core throb with desire.

"Fuck, I've missed this," you murmured, your voice thick with lust.

Tee gripped your hips and pulled you down onto him, his erection pushing past your wetness in one swift motion. Your eyes rolled back as he filled you, the sensation of his thickness stretching you almost too much to bear. He began to move, his hips bucking up into you with a fervor that spoke of his own desire. The leather of the car seat was cool as it dug into your knees, but you didn’t care as you leaned into his thrusts, your breath coming out in gasps.

The car rocked slightly with your movements, the sound of your skin slapping together echoing through the quiet night. Your hands gripped the back of the seat, your nails digging into the leather as Tee’s hands roamed over your body, his mouth finding your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave bruises. You knew you would wear them with a disconcerting mix of pride and shame, but right now, you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he felt inside you.

Tee’s hands slid up to your chest, squeezing your tits roughly, fingers tugging at the clasp, allowing them to fall from their restraint before wrapping his lips around a nipple. You moaned, your hips moving faster, urging him on. His other hand held you in place, keeping you tight against him as he picked up the pace. You could feel your orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that was going to shatter you into a million pieces.

"Tee, oh my god," you gasped, your body trembling as you felt yourself getting closer. His teeth grazed your skin, his hand moving down to grip your ass tightly, his hand soothing over the skin before delivering a firm slap that echoed through the car.

"You like that?" he groaned, his voice muffled against your skin. "You like when I fuck you like this?"

You could only nod, your voice lost to the sensation of him filling you so completely. 

Tee wasn’t satisfied by that alone. He pulled away from your neck and stared into your eyes, his own filled with a dark hunger. "Say that shit," he demanded, his voice low and rough. "Say you missed this dick."

Your eyes flashed with defiance for a moment before you gave in, your voice a needy whine. "I missed this dick." The words left your mouth in a rush of air, and Tee's eyes lit up with triumph. He began to pump into you harder, his grip on your hips tightening, his movements more deliberate. The car rocked with each thrust, the leather of the seat squeaking slightly under your weight.

"Good girl," Tee murmured, his voice a low rumble in your ear. "You know you missed this." His thumb found your clit again, pressing down as his fingers continued to explore the depths of you. The sensation was too much, and you felt your orgasm build rapidly, a crescendo of pleasure that you hadn't experienced in so long.

"Tee, oh god, I'm gonna..." your voice trailed off as you bit your lip, your eyes squeezing shut. The words hung in the air, a declaration of your impending climax. Tee's strokes grew more deliberate, his hips meeting yours with a force that had the car bouncing slightly.

"Tell me what you need from me," Tee demanded, his breath hot against your neck. His strokes grew deeper, more powerful, as if he were trying to claim your very soul with every thrust.

Your breath was ragged, your voice strained as you whispered, "Just make me come, Tee. Wanna flood your dick, baby." The words were a mix of submission and challenge that made Tee’s eyes burn with lust. He knew you were close, your breath hitching and your pussy tightening around him. He reached up and pinched your nipple hard, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, making you arch your back and cry out.

Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, your pussy clenching down on him as you threw your head back, your eyes squeezed shut. Tee watched your face, the way your mouth fell open in a silent scream, the way your eyes shut and your dimples deepened. He could feel your juices coating him, making every stroke slick and hot. It was like coming home, a feeling he had craved for so long.

"Yeah, baby, just like that. Take what you need from me, baby." Tee murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watched you come apart in his arms. He could feel his own orgasm building, his balls tightening as he pumped into you slowly. He waited, savoring your climax before kissing you, his own climax still quite a ways away.

Your kiss grew sloppier, more desperate, as Tee’s thrusts grew more erratic as he bucked up into you. Your body was hum of sensations, your pussy still clenching around him as you rode out the last of your orgasm. He felt his own approaching, the base of his spine tingling with the promise of release.

With a rush of movement, he lifted you off his lap and dropped you to your knees. You stared up at him, chest heaving, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and lust. Tee took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort. He leaned back against the car seat, his erection still standing proud. "Open your mouth," he said, his voice a low growl.

You didn't argue. With a flick of your tongue, you tasted the precum leaking from his tip. The familiar flavor of him washed over you, and you felt a sense of homecoming you hadn’t expected. Tee's hand wrapped around the back of your head, guiding you closer to him.

His hand gripped the base of his cock, stroking slowly as he watched you. You leaned in, taking him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip. Tee's eyes rolled back, his head falling back against the seat. He groaned, his hips jerking upward involuntarily as you took him deeper, your mouth sliding down his length. You knew just how he liked it, the way he liked to feel your tongue on the underside of his shaft, the way he liked to watch you take him in until he was all you could see.

You moaned softly, indulging in the taste of your love-hate relationship, your anger now a distant memory in the face of such raw desire. Tee's eyes never left yours, the silent communication speaking volumes about his need for you. He watched you intently, his hand still guiding your movements, his breathing growing harsher with every stroke of your tongue. Your cheeks hollowed as you took him deeper, your eyes watering slightly as you fought the urge to gag. It had been so long since you had done this, but your body remembered the rhythm, the way to make him moan and squirm.

He gently pulled you away from his length, strong hand moving to jerk himself off. "You gon' swallow what I give you, baby?" he panted, tattooed hand moving frantically over his thick shaft that glistened with a mix of your spit and arousal.

You nodded, eyes never leaving his. You hadn’t expected this turn of events, but you were too far gone to resist. Tee’s hand moved faster, his abs tensing as he approached the edge. Tee's head fell back against the headrest, and he let out a strangled groan, his hand tightening around his dick. You could feel his thighs tense, and you knew he was close.

You stared up at him, arousal and submission swirling in your eyes. "Mmhmm," you murmured, Tee's eyes snapped back to yours, his hand at the back of your head again, holding you as close as possible to his cock without allowing you the satisfaction of taking it in your mouth again.

"So fuckin' pretty, baby. Lookin' at me like that," he murmured, his hand stroking his cock. The sight of him, so lost in his own pleasure, had your pussy pulsing with a renewed hunger. You leaned in, your tongue darting out to lick the tip of his shaft. Tee groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before snapping back open, a hint of challenge in his gaze.

He stroked himself faster, the sound of his hand against his cock filling the small space. Your mouth watered as you watched him, your tongue slipping out to catch the beads of precum that formed at the tip. "You want it, baby?" he asked, his voice tight.

"Mmhmm," you murmured again, eager to please him, to show him that you still knew his body, that you still craved his pleasure.

Tee's hand tightened around his shaft, his hips jerking upward as he reached the peak of his climax. With a final, guttural groan, he spoke, "Open your mouth, baby, take it from me." You eagerly obeyed, your mouth open and waiting. He erupted with a moan, the hot spurts of his cum painting your face and tongue. You took it all, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him on your tongue, the power of his release under your control.

For a moment, you stayed like that, Tee panting and you swallowing, your eyes locked. The tension in the car was palpable, thick with the scent of sex and desire. Tee leaned back, his chest heaving, and you wiped your face with your thumb a smug smile playing on your lips. "Missed me, huh?" you quipped, trying to lighten the mood, but the words hung in the air, loaded with the weight of your tumultuous history.

Tee chuckled, his hand moving to caress your cheek gently, wiping away a stray drop of cum. "More than you know," he admitted, his voice softer than before. You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand sending a shiver through your body. You didn't miss this, you missed him, you realized with a jolt. The way he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered.

But you couldn’t let yourself get lost in that feeling. Not again. With a shaky breath, you sat back on your heels and reached for your discarded jersey, pulling it over your head. You had to get dressed, had to get out of the car, had to get away from him before you did something stupid.

"I'm starting to remember why I threw your ass out my apartment," you said, trying to keep your voice light as you pulled yourself together. Tee threw his head back, laughter filling the car. It was a sound that still made your heart melt.

"You know you liked it," he teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to tell your Mom you were a good boy," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Tee's laughter grew louder, and you couldn't help but smile, the sound of it bringing back a flood of memories you had pushed aside.

"You still got my Mom's number?" Tee quipped, still chuckling as he tucked himself back into his pants, watching you struggle to maintain your composure as you dressed. You threw him a glare that would've made a saint sweat, but he just grinned back, unbothered. That was the Tee you missed the most. Not the arrogant superstar, but the goofball who knew how to make you laugh even when you were pissed.

You reached for the car door handle, but Tee's hand shot out, catching your wrist before you could make your escape. His grip was firm but gentle, a silent plea for you to stay for a little while longer. You looked down at your entwined hands, the tension in the air thick with unspoken words. When you looked up at him, you could feel your knees practically give out.

"Look," you began, your voice a shaky whisper.

He shook his head, both hands reaching for your waist. "Don't say it," Tee said, his eyes searching yours. "Don't push me away again. I can't handle that shit." The desperation in his voice was raw, a stark contrast to the cocky confidence he usually exuded. He swallowed slowly, trying to decipher the emotions playing on your face.

You looked down at his grip on your waist, not even realizing you were straddling him again, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. You didn't know what to say. Part of you knew better than to let him back in, but the other part of you, the part that had missed the warmth of his arms, the sparkle in his eyes, and the taste of his mouth, was begging for more. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart.

"You make this so hard," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. You didn't want to give in, not after all the pain he had caused you, but you could feel the wall you had built around your heart cracking.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled you closer, his forehead pressing against yours. "I know, baby," Tee whispered, his voice a sweet promise that sent shivers down your spine. "But we can make it work. Just give me another chance. I swear I'll do better for you."

Your eyes searched his, looking for the lie you told yourself had to be there. But all you found was sincerity, a desperation that mirrored your own. You didn't want to be that girl, the one who took him back after all the shit he had put you through. But you were that girl, and you knew it. With a sigh, you nodded, your body melting into his embrace. "Okay," you murmured, the word a barely-there whisper that seemed to echo in the car.

Tee's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if he was afraid you would change your mind. His lips found yours again, a gentle kiss that spoke of his gratitude and his love. You kissed him back, your hesitance dissipating like mist in the morning sun. You had missed this, missed the way he made you feel. A nagging need for his touch, his warmth, his love.

The two of you sat there in the car, kissing, until the reality of your surroundings began to seep back in. You pulled away with a final peck, your eyes wide with the sudden realization of where you were. "Your family's probably wondering where the fuck you are," you said with a laugh, pushing him back gently.

Tee's smile didn't fade. "They'll be fine. They should know better than wait on me when I'm with you." He kissed you again, and you felt the warmth of his affection spread through your body. The moment felt so right, so perfect, like a scene from a movie. But you knew that life was rarely a fairy tale, especially for the two of you.

"Look, I'm not saying we're back together," you began, setting clear boundaries despite your wavering resolve. "But maybe we can see where this goes."

Tee nodded, understanding the cautious tone in your voice. He knew he had to tread lightly. "Whatever you need from me, I'll do it. Just don't push me away again, please," he whispered, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your stomach flutter.

You shared one more lingering kiss before you finally climbed off of him, fixing your clothes with shaky hands. Tee watched you, his own need to touch you still strong. "Need me to walk you up? It's dark as hell out here," he offered, his voice still thick with hope.

You nodded, unable to resist the comfort of his company. The cool night air hit you as you stepped out of the car, the garage lights casting a stark contrast to the inky blackness outside. Tee took your purse in his hand, the other reaching to hold yours, a gesture that felt both familiar and foreign. As the two of you made your way through the now-desolate garage, the sound of your footsteps echoing, you allowed yourself to lean into him slightly, the weight of your decision hanging heavy in the space between you.

[seijorhi]

the idea of oikawa not being ready when he meets his soulmate.

it isn't that he thinks you're not good enough, not pretty enough, not right for him, it's just that oikawa wasn't expecting to find you so soon.

soulmates are forever, you'll be there waiting for him when all's said and done, but his career in volleyball – it won't be. he's young, fit and hungry for it; in his absolute prime, but if he doesn't put in the effort now, give it everything, 100% of what he has... it'll slip right through his fingers.

he can't risk that.

there's a strange sort of desperation that tugs at his chest when he tries to explain, to get you to understand it. it's a sacrifice you'll both be making for the sake of the career he's dreamed of his whole life.

the way your smile slowly slips away when you realise he's not asking for you to be patient and give him grace when his focus is more on volleyball than you, he's saying he can't have you around at all, because you will distract him.

he'd lose himself in you.

it's not forever, he stresses, only a little while. you're perfect, and in a year or two when he's more settled in his role, the starting setter on the right team, heading to the championships, he'll be there to give you everything you deserve. no – more. he'll make it up to you, all he's asking for (but he's not really asking, is he) is a bit of time and space.

the light dims in your eyes, a strange, glassy look taking over, and slowly, so fucking slowly, you pull your hands from his, let them fall weakly to your side. it takes a monumental effort to not snatch them back up.

'yeah, okay.'

the expression on your face is all wrong, your voice almost robotic, but oikawa knows it's the right thing. you'll forgive him, because that's what soulmates do. you'll forgive him and then fall even more in love with him and oikawa will spend every damn day showering you in the love and affection he can. he'll drown you in it.

just give him this. let him give everything to volleyball, before he shares himself with you.

—

you're a little too good at it.

it's harder than he expected, going no contact. he was the one who wanted it – needed it, really, for this to work – but there'd been a small part of him that sort of hoped you'd ignore what he wanted and reach out anyway. he'd imagined sneaking a quick peek at his phone during a water break to see a message from you, something simple, casual, a 'hope things are good!' or 'i caught some of the game last week'. was it unfair of him to want you keeping track of him? to see how far he'd come in the days, weeks, months since he'd asked for time?

it's like an itch under his skin, and it grows. a few of his new teammates have met their soulmates, carry the marks to show for it. they're all smug as fuck about it, but the thing is whenever their soulmates are watching from the stands, they play with a different kind of fire. they're better. envy burns watching them celebrate afterwards, all hungry kisses and smiles too fucking big.

he knows you'd be there too if you could. you'd be there every damn game, all of their practices too, cheering him on. his biggest fan.

it's an ache. he goes home to an empty apartment, better than the one he had when he met you, in a nicer part of town, but no less lifeless. there's no one to welcome him home, to wrap him up in a hug, kiss him how he likes and soothe away the days stresses. no one to warm his bed, no other pussy'll ever be as tempting as yours.

i miss you.

i'm thinking of you.

would it kill you to break his rules and reach out every now and then? to give him some kind of sign that this distance was driving you half as crazy as it was him?

are you trying to punish him?

it occurs to him that you probably don't have his phone number. it shouldn't have stopped you, because it wouldn't've stopped him.

—

the first time he tries to follow your instagram you block his account.

it's irritating, until he remembers that you're probably trying to abide by his rules. he can't exactly get mad at you for that, tries not to, and instead does what any sane man missing his soulmate would do; creates a fake account, steals a picture from one of his sister's friends and uses that as his profile pic – even goes so far as to follow a bunch of your friends’ accounts too, just so it doesn't look suspicious or weird when he follows you too.

and for a little while, it's enough. he can see what you're up to, who you're hanging out with, where you're going. he'll watch all your stories, your friends’ stories, just for a few seconds of you.

(maybe strokes his cock to a few of them, cums in his sheets gasping your name.)

you're being patient, he's being good, it's only for a few more months, he can last a little longer–

there's a new post on your insta, a snap of you and some asshole with his arm wrapped around your waist, your lips pressed to his cheek.

'Happy six months, love you a little more every day!'

[hyunebunx]

maybe it's not our fault - chapter 02

── synopsis: after a nasty breakup that’s left you completely shattered, you’re set on giving up on love forever. That is until, in a surprising turn of events, your respective best friends start dating and one of their main goals is to restore the peace in your broken relationship. Will their plan succeed? Will they manage to play cupid and get you and your high school sweetheart back together, or will it all backfire and result in the end of their own love story?

There is only one way to find out. If only your beloved’s heart wasn’t already broken beyond repair…

╰─▸ ❝ pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader

╰─▸ ❝ content: exes to lovers, angst, mutual pining, fluff, suggestive themes, drama and heartbreak, jock!hyunjin who is captain of the uni's football team + dance major!hyunjin, college au, lack of communication.

╰─▸ ❝ word count: 13k

╰─▸ ❝ chapter 3

a/n: this took me forever i'm so sorry :((( but writer's block has been an actual bitch. there's no warnings for this chapter, just some making out and a bunch of cursing!! it's a longer one, so get comfy before reading and enjoy <3<3 please don't hesitate to let me know your thoughts!

You weren’t the most extroverted person out there but you did love attending a good party, especially one arranged by your best friends. Chris and Jisung along with Changbin, the third member of their music group, were notorious for throwing the best parties around campus, extravagant, with good booze, music, and unmatchable atmosphere.

They were in charge of throwing the first party of the year, which was taking place tonight, a mere week after school started. This particular party was a yearly event, a shared effort from both the music and dance departments, which longed for more opportunities to collaborate.

You remember the first time you attended it like it was yesterday.

Wide eyed and oh so excited about experiencing the full university package, with your newfound independence and your friends by your side, this party was the biggest letdown of the year. Thrown at a random fraternity on campus, it was a proper snooze fest, with a barely working disco ball that looked like it could collapse any moment, and a few balloons that were supposed to make the surroundings look less depressing. Last minute decorations the seniors decided to throw together so the freshmen wouldn’t complain about their lack of involvement and get them in trouble with the deans.

It sucked – plain and simple, and that’s when you decided to never attend this party for as long as you still had to set foot on this campus. That is until Changbin came up with a great plan to help the disinterested seniors and have some fun.

3racha would cover all the expenses, from drinks, music, and venue, as long as they were given liberty to do as they pleased, after promising to make this event the talk of campus and have the other departments turn green with envy. As expected, the two representatives were more than happy to comply, agreeing eagerly. Less work for them meant another responsibility lifted off their shoulders and more time to breathe and prepare for graduation without having to think about any snot-nosed juniors.

In their care, the embarrassing event that was only ever attended by naïve freshmen who didn’t know any better blossomed into the most anticipated day of the year not only by the two departments but by several others from the other side of the campus. Last year’s party exceeded all expectations, so legendary that it was still talked about throughout the whole year, the people who attended bragging about it to anyone who’d listen. And you had to agree – they managed to throw a party straight out of a scene from The Great Gatsby, with a theme oh so very fitting for the occasion.

Yes, theme, because they deemed it necessary for some unknown reason. Artsy people were strange like that, Seohyun often said. All you could do was agree and try not to take offense for being one of these people.

Anyway, everyone was excited, restlessly counting down the days until the three musketeers would return to the party scene and offer them a night to remember. Everyone but you.

“So, what’s the theme for this year?” Seohyun asks, lounging on the couch with a small bag of gummy bears by her side. The four of you were currently next door, at Jisung and Chris’ place, watching the guys run around to get ready for their party. They were the hosts, after all, it was normal to arrive as fashionably late as possible.

“The 70’s!” Jisung yells from the bathroom, still struggling with his makeup. Chris hasn’t come out of his room yet.

Seohyun shoots you an unimpressed look, stealing some of your chips. “Isn’t this just a glorified Halloween party?”

You hear him mumble under his breath, most likely rolling his eyes in exasperation before he appears before you with a slight pout on his full lips. “A little help, please?”

He was dressed in a silky, sequin shirt with matching golden boots, partially obscured by black, bell bottom pants that fitted him to perfection. In his hand is an eyeliner pen you grab to help with his predicament.

“Sit, Ji.”

Jisung nods and takes a seat on the couch’s arm, by Seohyun’s feet, so you can gently start applying his eyeliner.

“For your information, everyone loves our parties and how fun having a theme makes them.” His eyes are closed but as expected, he’s not letting Seohyun have the last word.

She snorts, throwing a chip at his back. “I don’t.”

“Because you’ve never been to one nor were you ever invited.” He huffs, trying to keep still so you won’t mess up.

“Don’t be mean.” You squeeze the bridge of his nose in warning, before glaring in Seohyun’s direction, the statement meant for them both. “I asked her to come with, last year.”

Not like she needed an invitation to begin with. What started as an event only for the two departments, quickly became a party for the whole campus once 3racha took the reins. Everyone was more than welcome to come and have fun, create memories, and live the full university experience.

Then you step back to examine your work, nodding with a satisfied smile. “Done.”

Opening his eyes, Jisung walks back to the bathroom to check it out, knowing how peculiar he could be. He wasn’t a big makeup guy, only wearing any when absolutely necessary, for performances and whatnot, so him requesting your help was a big deal. It seemed he was going all out for tonight’s theme, wanting to stand out as much as possible.

Guess your best friend was officially on the market again. About time, there were tens of girls waiting in line for his attention.

“Oh, this is sick!” He comes back grinning, the smudged black liner framing his eyes beautifully and bringing out their depth in true, rockstar fashion. “Thanks, bug!”

You’re engulfed in a hug and can’t help but giggle as he sways your body from side to side before letting go.

“Glitter?” You tease, pointing behind him to your makeup bag.

“Fuck no.”

You chuckle while Seohyun laughs, getting comfier on the couch almost like she owns the place. Nobody minded, it was a usual occurrence at this point – you were past feeling shy and uncomfortable around each other.

Walking over, Jisung moves her feet out of the way before sitting down and letting them fall back over his lap, nonchalantly. “If you were invited, why didn’t you come?”

She shrugs, plopping another gummy into her mouth. “I was on that trip with Mark and his stupid friends, remember?”

Jisung makes a face and gags, earning a foot over the shoulder, that is meant to resemble a slap, before they both start laughing.

Truth be told, you’ve always thought your two best friends would make a cute couple. Despite appearances, they did go well together in the way that what one lacked, the other made up for, completing one another. Even so, you’ve accepted reality a long time ago. Them being more than each other’s pain in the ass was never going to happen.

Just as you squeeze yourself between Jisung and the couch, his bulky arms quickly moving to bring you closer and accommodate your body as Seohyun sits up to make room, Chris finally steps out of his bedroom in a cloud of expensive cologne that’s almost visible to the naked eye.

“Look who’s finally ready. I was about to put together an intervention and break that door down.” Jisung smirks, leaning back on the couch.

Chris rolls his eyes but otherwise doesn’t respond, dusting imaginary dirt off his new clothes. You helped him pick out an outfit, so now he was wearing a leisure suit, black, with the only pop of color being from the bold, flowery shirt that had the first three buttons open, exposing his collarbones and chest. In true 70s fashion, he had a heavy gold chain around his neck serving as the only accessory. Thank heavens he retired the obnoxious sunglasses.

“Oh my god, you look great!” You exclaim, beaming from ear to ear.

“Thanks to you.” He smiles, soft and gentle before running a hand through his brown curls he finally decided to not straighten.

On your right, Jisung gently elbows your side to get your attention. “But what about me?”

“Stop fishing for compliments.” Seohyun groans, standing up to walk to the kitchen for more snacks. “You already know you’re pretty.”

You chuckle, watching the exchange with interest while Chris begins putting on his matching dress shoes.

“So, you think I’m pretty?” Jisung calls after her, smirking a little too widely.

“Pretty ugly!”

The bickering starts and you ignore them in favor of walking in the opposite direction, to join Chris who’s disappeared in his room once again.

He’s by the dresser, slipping on a golden watch before checking his hair in the mirror to make sure it's tousled to his liking.

Before you can even open your mouth, he’s already turned to you. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? There’s still time for you to get ready.”

You sigh, face falling briefly as your eyes look at anything but him. “I’m sure. Thanks for checking in, though.“

“It’s going to be fun.” He adds, hand landing on your elbow in his effort to convince you. Not like you usually needed convincing, especially if he were to stay by your side the whole night like you knew he would.

You just didn’t feel like it. You haven’t been in the mood to party in a long time, and even though he insisted this was the perfect opportunity to change that, rediscover the joy such an event can bring – your stand on it didn’t budge.

“I don’t doubt it.” You force a smile, not wanting to worry him or plant any ideas in his head. Overprotective was his middle name, so if he were to sense your true emotions even for a second, catch a glimpse of your melancholy, the whole thing would be called off. He truly didn’t care about this as much as he cared about you.

“You should.” His eyes soften, lips settling into a pout that almost has laughter bubbling out of you. “You know parties aren’t as fun for me whenever you’re not there.”

A snort escapes you, gaze trailing to the framed photo of you two back in high school that’s right next to the one you took in the same spot, in his backyard in Australia, four years later this summer. “You’ll survive, Chrissy. I’ll be with you in spirit.”

He looks like he has more to say, words ready to jump out of his mouth and latch onto you so you can finally come to your senses. But Chris chooses to remain silent, sighing like he couldn’t be bothered to put in any more effort to convince you to join him tonight.

“If you change your mind, you know where we are.” He smiles, reaching up to ruffle your hair.

For once, you don’t swat his hand away, and he chuckles victoriously. You won’t change your mind, but it’s nice to know your presence is wanted nonetheless.

As you exit his bedroom, Jisung is halfway out the door, struggling to put on a jacket while Seohyun laughs at him from her place on the couch.

“Finally!” He exclaims, reaching for his keys. “Are you ready to go? Changbin texted me he’s already there.”

Chris nods, waving goodbye to you and Seohyun before walking over to join Jisung in the hallway. “You’ll melt if you keep that jacket on.”

“It’s part of my outfit, I’ll be fine.”

You watch them from the doorway, one more excited than the other as they can barely sit still while waiting for the elevator. As the doors open with a quiet ‘ding’, Jisung makes to step inside before stopping in his tracks. Without a word, he rushes to pull you into a tight hug, lucky Chris is preventing the doors from closing as he takes his sweet time.

“Call me if you need anything, bug!” He pulls away, grinning, and you already miss his warmth. “I’ll come running.”

The smile you give him in return is genuine, even though you know if you were to call, his tipsy self wouldn’t even be able to hear his phone go off. And who would amidst all the craziness a party entrails? He was there to have fun, not worry about your depressing, bed-rotting self.

“Alright, Ji.” You laugh as he reaches to pinch your cheek before he’s off, barely making it into the elevator with all limbs intact as he chooses to stick his hand out to wave goodbye until the doors close.

When you return to the living room, you’re surprised to see Seohyun on her feet and ready to go.

“Shall we go back?” She yawns, stretching her arms over her head. “They’re all out of snacks and I miss my bed.”

You raise a brow, surprised she was taping out so soon. Seohyun was a party animal; she had no problem staying awake till the sun was up, dancing the night away in one of her skin-tight, and sparkling dresses. Still, you hold the front door open. “It’s only 10 pm.”

“Your point?” As she passes you, Seohyun wiggles her eyebrows. “Unless you want to host our own little private party?”

You roll your eyes with a laugh, pushing past her as she begins cackling, the sound echoing through the big hallway that separates the two apartments. The floor only had three apartments, but your other neighbor was never home, for some unknown reason. His whereabouts were an intriguing subject for all of your friends, often coming up with all sorts of theories to explain his absence.

The latest one implied he was some sort of secret agent on a very dangerous mission, renting an apartment so close to the biggest university in the city in the hopes of blending in and not raising any suspicion.

“I’m picking the movie tonight!” Seohyun runs to the couch, her natural habitat and favorite place in the apartment, before you can even close the door. Guess that means you’ll either hide the whole time, not even being able to watch the gruesome horror, or you’ll cry your eyes out at another rerun of ‘The Notebook’.

Thirty minutes later, the lights have been turned down low, the mood lap in the corner engulfing your corner of the room in the warmest shades of orange meant to relax your tired eyes. With snacks all around you, scattered on the small coffee table, ranging from pizza to chips and fizzy drinks, you and Seohyun are sitting up on the couch, under the same fluffy blanket she adored so much.

You’re busy brushing her long hair, wearing a refreshing face mask while she tries to navigate eating another pizza slice without ruining hers when low buzzing gets your attention.

“He’s still calling?” You ask after glancing at her phone next to you, the caller ID not even phasing her. Sometimes you wish you could be as nonchalant until you remember it’s all a façade, most of the time, her poor heart as fragile and sensitive as yours.

“Oh, yeah. He’s been very consistent.” She shrugs, chewing before adding. “Which is a first because he was never consistent in his relationship with me.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, hands gentle while untangling her hair. “I thought you broke it off a while ago?”

Seohyun nods, bringing her knees to her chest while ’13 Going on 30’ plays quietly in the background, a must on your girls’ nights. “I did. He thought I was joking.”

A moment of silence stretches between you; not uncomfortable, but needed for her words to sink in and for you to realize the type of guy she has been investing her precious time and energy into.

“What a fucking asshole.” You finally scoff, shaking your head.

“Tell me about it.” She sighs, wiping her oily fingers on a nearby napkin

“I have been telling you about it.” You point out, but not in a condescending way, your hands stopping momentarily. “Everyone has. You just pretended not to hear us.”

Seohyun is quiet, and you can’t help but start wondering if you’ve upset her somehow. That wasn’t your intention, it could never be. You meant what you said but maybe you could work on your delivery?

Just as you move to reach for her, Seohyun speaks softly.

“Sorry.”

One of your arms wraps around her front from behind, bringing her body close in a comforting embrace she relaxes into immediately.

“What if it’s me? What if I’m the problem?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, fiddling with her fingers in the way she does when she’s stressed or worried about something, a habit you’ve taken notice of years ago.

“Nonsense.” You shake your head, not even wanting to hear about it. In your eyes, she was perfect, the girl who had showered you with kindness and compassion even before getting as close as you were now. Seohyun was a good person before she was anything else, her heart made of gold that sparkled under the sun, and when she was loved truthfully. Unfortunately, she hasn’t yet met the man able to bring forth her shine.

“No, I’m serious.” She turns to look at you over her shoulder while pulling away from the embrace, all of the confidence she carried herself with suddenly nowhere to be seen, the sadness in her eyes making her resemble a lost child. “What is it about me that discourages guys from commitment?”

“Seo,” your eyes soften, heart shattering for her, “there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s all the emotionally unavailable guys you keep picking and expecting commitment from.”

“So, technically, it’s still me.”

You shake your head, gently grasping her hands into yours while looking straight into her dull, hazel eyes. “Not at all. You just want to be loved.”

“I’m so desperate for it, Y/n.” She almost sobs, her distress visible even from a mile away as her hands go limp in your hold. “I keep rushing into all of these relationships, falling for every sweet word and empty promise because I’m afraid I’ll end up alone.”

“End up alone?” Now you’re confused, searching her face for any clues that might fill you in about her sudden, unreasonable worry. “Babe, you have your whole life ahead of you, what are you even saying?”

She shakes her head, almost like not wanting to hear you. “Everyone has at least one significant, fairytale-like romance in university. Look at me, three years in and all I’ve got under my belt is a few hookups and a devastating ex situationship that still haunts me.”

“And who says those aren’t significant?”

“Because I’m not going to end up marrying Mark, or any of the other guys whose names I can’t even recall!”

Her sudden outburst leaves room for silence to sneak in and try to comfort the two wounded hearts, just as you slowly move to remove both of the facemasks that were almost dry by now, surely making her as uncomfortable as you felt. It all clicks in your mind, and you suddenly realize this is something she’s been mulling over for some time now, eating away at her mind and making her feel incapable of the simplest task of them all. Love.

Seohyun is no longer looking at you, head low and gaze trained on her manicured fingers while she picks apart a loose thread from the blanket.

Just then, her phone buzzes again and you reach for it before she can react, rejecting the call and setting it face down on the table, right next to yours.

“I get it.” Your voice is soft, quiet as if not to disturb her, the tv for once louder than either of you. “You feel like you’re running out of time, but Seo, love doesn’t have an expiration date. Nobody says you have to find the love of your life by the time you’re 25, just to get married by 30 like most movies portray.”

Fresh faced, her eyes follow your finger toward the screen just in time to catch the beginning of Jenna’s love confession, an emotional scene you’ve both cried watching countless times.

“I’ve never been in love.” She confesses quietly, fixing her headband. “And I’m sorry for bringing this up right now, but it’s been driving me insane for weeks.”

You nod to show you’re listening to her every word, reaching for the remote to pause the movie.

With hopeful eyes and still enough sadness in her voice to betray her current state of mind, Seohyun dares to enquire. “How is it? How does being in love feel like?”

Instantly, you feel like you’ve been kicked in the stomach, all the air disappearing from your lungs at the snap of fingers. You’re overwhelmed as memories come rushing back, your tragic love story playing from beginning to end in a neatly made montage that would put most romance movies to shame. You remember everything, almost every second spent by your beloved’s side, from your first meeting to your first date, kiss, the first time you made love and the first time you felt it too.

You now realize that falling for Hyunjin was inevitable – you were doomed from the moment those doe eyes bored into yours, softening as he smiled in greeting. Even though you were mere kids, your feelings have always been real, even if the adults claimed you were too young for them. The love was always there, first shaped platonically but soon evolving into a heart fluttering romance that not many were lucky enough to experience for as long as they lived.

And even though it now hurts and brings you sorrow, the love was still here, even if it was reduced to a mere flicker that struggled to hang on as water kept being splashed on the flame.

But with a deep inhale that brings some of the air back, you satisfy your best friend’s curiosity. “Being in love is…the best and the worst thing that has happened to me. Simultaneously.”

Seohyun looks at you in wonder, some light returning to her pretty eyes, long flashes kissing her cheekbones with every blink as if they too, tried to comfort her. Then, without warning, she bursts out laughing, collapsing on the other end of the couch, away from you.

“You know what? I’m done, I don’t want to experience love anymore. I’m good.” Even though she’s laughing, there’s no amusement present in her tone.

You can’t help but chuckle, the joy not quite reaching your heart either. “No-uh, too late. Love will find you when you least expect it and then you’ll come running to say I was right!”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.” You clarify, reaching to pinch the headband off her forehead before letting it bounce back to smack her lightly, to which she complains loudly, kicking her feet to get you off the couch.

Soon, genuine laughter welcomes itself into your home once again, air lighter as the seriousness of the moment wears off.

You allow the movie to come to an end, the happily ever after that always has flowers blooming into your heart before standing up for more snacks, and Seohyun’s small bag of nail polish just as the credits start rolling.

Her head pops from behind the couch, body still lounging about. “Will you marry me if we’re both still single by 30?”

“Nope.”

“Gee, thanks Y/n. You’re such a great friend!”

Safe to say, your night ended on a much brighter note than it began.

Until it all came crashing back down the following morning.

You’re awakened by a commotion, an actual crash that startles you out of deep slumber, body jolting among the many pillows and stuffed animals that kept you company during the night. Sitting up, you rub your eyes before reaching for your phone to check the time, confused to see it’s no earlier than 6:55 am. No sunray dared to peek through the thick curtains so you were still a little disoriented, listening to every sound that could tell you exactly what had happened.

Seohyun was not a morning person. Did she somehow knock over a lamp in her sleep? Because the possibility of her being awake at this hour, especially after the late night you’ve had, was nonexistent.

When no other sound follows, you decide to succumb to dreamland once again, head buried in the big, purple teddy bear you got as a birthday present last year. You’re almost there, fully asleep until the sound of the front door opening and closing snaps you out of it faster than lightening.

What exactly was going on in your apartment, at 7 am on a Saturday?

With newfound vigor, you yank the blanket off of you and quickly get out of bed, abandoning your fluffy shoes in your hurry to the living room. Just then, the buzzing of your phone pulls you back, like an invisible force controlling your legs, a puppet on a string compelled to check that out before whatever was happening outside.

You take a seat at the edge of your bed, lounging after the device in wonder. Who could be texting you at this hour?

Swiping your finger over the screen, you’re greeted by numerous notifications that have silently gone off during the night, most from an app you barely use. Twitter. Ignoring them for the time being, you tap a message that has come earlier, from one of the friends you have made in class. Her text only confuses you further as the few words that greet you are only urging you to check the previously mentioned app, followed by one too many worried emojis.

Curiosity peaked, you finally do as she says, opening the app to see what exactly has prompted such a reaction out of the usual calm woman. Your timeline doesn’t look any different, full of 3racha’s fans going crazy over the new pics, and the exclusive music that was apparently played last night at the party. You manage their business account, so the sight was nothing unusual. You then switch to your personal account and are surprised to see the little bell red with notifications. When you tap it, you see numerous accounts, people you don’t even know, tagging you in their tweets and random posts, suddenly desperate to reach you.

You were not popular, especially compared to Chris and Jisung, despite managing their account and being seen with them almost every day. So, this sudden influx of followers and messages made no sense, no one was eager enough to connect with you when they could simply go straight to them.

Confused and very intrigued, you decide to open a random message, tapping on an account you have seen floating around your timeline, often talking about 3racha and their music. The difference between this account and the others was that you knew the person behind it personally, a fellow student who shared her major with Seohyun.

Once her direct message loads, you almost drop your phone right on the cold, wooden floor. Because what you see, besides her worried and confused messages, is a photo. One that was taken last year, at the same party you couldn’t bring yourself to attend this year.

A picture of you and Hyunjin, embracing on the dance floor, in your ridiculous clothing while the other partygoers have created room for you to have your moment, almost like you were a couple having your first dance at your wedding.

Tears well up in your eyes in an instant, heart thumping in your chest painfully, with a force that almost creates a hole in your body, one big enough for the organ to escape and run off. Despite the early hour and the exhaustion slowing down your response time, this moment plays in your mind like a vivid memory, transporting you back in time with scary ease.

The music was too loud and obnoxious for a moment that was supposed to be romantic and switch things up. The DJ decided to play a slow song, perfect to get the couples in the mood for dancing and smooching up on their beloved, giving everyone the opportunity to make their move and possibly find love tonight. You, on the other hand, didn’t need any of that.

Your lover was already all over you, holding your body close while leading you around the dancefloor like the expert he was, only parting when he decided to twirl you around, your delighted laughter like music to his ears.

You were waltzing, or were supposed to if only your heels hadn’t stepped on Hyunjin’s feet one too many times. He claimed it was no big deal, laughing from ear to ear, drunk on the happiness he only felt while in your presence.

So now, you were glued to the same spot, only your bodies swaying from side to side, guided by Hyunjin’s big hands on your hips.

“I’m dizzy.” You giggle into his ear, trying to make yourself heard over the loud music.

Hyunjin laughs in response, looking even more handsome than usual in his grey suit and slicked-back hair, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes. “From what? Did you drink too much?”

You shake your head, accidentally stepping on his right foot. Again. “The music is too loud. It’s hurting my brain.”

Without a word, you see his eyes begin searching around for something, the absence of his gaze and attention making you feel an indescribable hint of loneliness. He suddenly signals towards the DJ, and the person he’s managed to find in the crowd, none other than Chris, nods and walks off to the guy.

When his smile finds you again, the music along with the lighting has been turned down, creating the perfect atmosphere for all the couples around.

“How about now? Is your head better?”

You laugh, heart squeezing in your chest at the thoughtful gesture as you hug him closer, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “You’re so crazy, Hyun.”

“Only for you. Anyone would go crazy over you.” He barely manages to finish his sentence when your heel finds his foot again. This time, he hisses and before you know it, both of your feet are off the ground as he spins you around, laughing together before you’re put down, now facing the DJ booth and your friends by his side. Chris is having the time of his life, arms around a random girl as he laughs at whatever the DJ has said, dancing while simultaneously having a conversation. Jisung is doing shots with Changbin and Minho, a small crowd cheering them on, away in their own little world, unaware of what everyone else is doing.

Your hands come together at the back of his neck, eyes tearing from the scene to give him your undivided attention. “Well, I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

Hyunjin smiles, eyes intense and full of love, sparkling even in the dim lighting. His arms circle your waist, and you’re suddenly chest to chest, glued together as he leans down to speak over your lips. “You have me. You’ll always have me.”

“Always?” You can’t help yourself from pecking his lips once he nods, sure this is the happiest moment of your life. Your highs have always taken place in his arms, after all. “You’ll continue being mine even with my two left feet?”

This time, he cackles, emotions heightened by the alcohol he has consumed tonight. “You’re lucky I’m a good enough dancer for the both of us.”

“But what if I step on your feet at our wedding?”

“We’ll say it’s part of the choreography. Nobody would dare disagree with me anyway.”

You’re two fools in love, staring into each other’s eyes with such intensity that the world could be crumbling around you and neither would notice. Not being able to hold himself back any longer, Hyunjin’s lips find yours in a deep, passionate kiss that wouldn’t normally be deemed appropriate in public. But this was a party, and everyone was already too drunk off their asses to care, especially the couples that were dry-humping each other around you.

No wandering hands or harsh movements, just you two in the middle of the dancefloor, kissing like you’re the main characters in a fairytale. Your tongue finds his, and his grip on your waist tightens in warning. Even with the alcohol in his system, Hyunjin still had his wits about him – a statement that couldn’t be made about you.

So, he pulls back before you can rope him into one of your schemes, with a little more difficulty than he’d like to admit, regretting his choice instantly when you continue pecking his lips repeatedly, needing to feel him close.

One of his arms releases you just so his hand can cup your cheek lovingly, stopping you in your tracks.

“I love you.” You say against his lips, and his smile is so sincere and full of love that it almost brings tears to your eyes.

“I know.”

You blink, his words downing on you a moment later as your eyes widen, flabbergasted. “You know?!”

Hyunjin chuckles, smirking, pulling you right back to his lips when you make to move away, displeased with his answer. “I mean, after all of these years, I’d be a pretty shitty boyfriend to not know, right?”

“You suck.” He kisses you right after you respond with an eye roll, deepening the kiss instantly, no longer caring about where you are.

“I love you too.”

One of the improvements 3racha brought to the party was a personal photographer, in charge of capturing the essence of the party in as many photos as he could, and that of course included the drunk students and their antics.

You were given a copy of this photo last year, a present from Chris who has asked the photographer himself to capture the sweet moment.

It was later framed and placed on your nightstand. Now, you were pretty sure the broken glass tore it beyond repair, so you didn’t dare pick it up from its place in the corner of the room, thankful it was face down and away from you.

What’s worse is that apparently, this photo has been spread around like wildfire, piquing everyone in attendance’s interest, which opened a discussion you could barely have with your best friends.

Why did you and Hyunjin break up?

With a heavy heart, you then make your way through all the messages and mentions, all talking about the mysterious couple in the photo, about how cute they were, and how they hoped they were still together. Until someone recognized you both and the tone of the conversation changed. Now, most people were tagging you and Hyunjin, almost like they were entitled to know why or how your relationship ended.

Some of the messages you received were nasty, and downright disrespectful, plainly asking you if they could hit on Hyunjin now that he was single. If he was good in bed, and if you’d mind if they took a spin to try him out. Or, if he was as big as he looked.

Fucking deranged people, all obviously drunk, treating you and him like nothing more than means of entertainment. Hyunjin was the captain of SNU’s most popular sports team, he was arguably the most popular student on campus. Everyone knew of him. But this was not normal, nor okay.

Since when doing what you loved came with the price of having your privacy invaded, reduced to nothing more than a piece of meat?

You were not celebrities, but normal students just like everyone around. Why was your relationship coming to an end suddenly the talk of the whole campus? Hot gossip nobody could help but discuss like people didn’t break up or get together on a daily basis around here.

What the hell was going on? But most importantly, what the fuck happened at last night’s party for this picture to suddenly emerge, seemingly out of nowhere?

When you manage to bring yourself out of your room, almost an hour later, the sight that greets you in the kitchen doesn’t surprise you one bit.

“So, you were the ones making all of that noise?”

Three heads snap in your direction in an instant, unable to hide their surprise at seeing you awake at this hour. Almost like this wasn’t your house, and they weren’t currently having some sort of gossip sesh without you, first thing in the morning.

“I’m so sorry.” Seohyun is the first to talk, the braid you fixed for her last night all messy and almost undone, stepping closer. “That was me, I stumbled on my way out the bedroom…” she suddenly trails off, eyes wide. “Babe…are you crying?”

You pat your cheeks, not expecting to find them wet, the tears rolling down your face at an alarming pace. Sharing a concerned look, Chris and Jisung hurry to you, with the latter being faster and pulling you into a tight hug that never fails to make you feel safe. Once your face hits his chest, the sobbing begins and both Seohyun and Chris circle you protectively, joining in on the hug as best as they could.

“You already saw everything, didn’t you?” Seohyun asks softly, almost like she’s talking to a frightened child. When you manage to nod in response, Jisung tenses beneath you.

“Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.” Your heart breaks at the tone of Chris’ voice, and you reach out to squeeze his hand in comfort. This was not any of their faults. You being sensitive and breaking down because of a simple picture and some weird comments didn’t have anything to do with them.

“Our department posted pictures from last year, a throwback to the first party we threw. By the time I realized the girl also posted the picture of you two, it was already flooding my timeline and messages.”

“We tried to remove it from your timeline.” Jisung chimes in when you finally calm down, gently wiping your eyes as you realize he’s still wearing the clothes from last night. “We were so focused on it that we forgot about all the weirdos tagging you and shit. I feel fucking terrible, bug, I’m so sorry.”

“This isn’t your fault.” You croak out, voice raspy from all the crying. Losing the love of your life was still a sensitive topic, yet you didn’t expect being reminded of your happier times to still hit this hard. “Or your responsibility to handle such a thing. I’m going to be okay.”

Seohyun is at your side, petting your head soothingly while removing any hair strands stuck to your wet face. “Babe, we’re your friends. I’ll personally hunt down all of these assholes and make them apologize on their knees for treating your personal life like a random TV show.”

A smile finds you, unable to keep a straight face around her even for a second, the other two nodding in agreement. “Thanks, you guys. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be fine, sweetheart.” Chris kisses the top of your head, having removed his blazer and only sporting his flowery shirt, with his sleeves rolled up and exposing some of his tattoos. You stare at each of them in turn, taking in their appearance. All three look like they barely got any sleep last night, which is pretty accurate. You and Seohyun went to sleep in the early morning, having spent the whole night talking about everything under the sun.

The guys most likely haven’t slept a wink yet, judging by the state they were in.

They must’ve rushed over here once they got wind of that mess on social media, and scheduled an intervention with Seohyun. You swear they were too worried about you.

Which is why you were extremely grateful to have their support in your life. Despite what Chris is saying, you’re aware you would have crumbled a long time ago without them by your side.

Without all of them, your world would have permanently lost its color.

A few days later, things have calmed down but you and Hyunjin were still the talk of campus. Whatever class you’re having, or in whichever building you go, there’s always someone recognizing you, gossiping with their friends without a care in the world. It’s like they have nothing better to do or talk about, just speculate about your lives for hours on end. You’ve heard them all. Most were happy Hyunjin was finally single, on the market, and within arm’s reach, ready to be swept off his feet by the next person. Or so, they say. Others feel sorry for you for fumbling such a man, shooting pitying looks every time you’re near.

It's weird and uncomfortable, and you’re unable to concentrate on anything while such people are around. So, you do what any other person would in this situation.

You stop going to class.

You spend the rest of your week at the animal shelter, taking more and more hours just so you’ll have something to do. Things are quiet here, with most people out of the loop and not involved in any of your university’s drama. Everyone besides Jaemin. But he hasn’t brought it up yet, in consideration of your feelings, you suppose. Not like you were close enough for him to care about any of that, but he’s still nice enough to pretend he hasn’t heard any of the things floating around on campus. Hyunjin is his captain, after all, there’s no way he doesn’t know.

Any which way, things will most likely blow over soon and the students will find something else to gossip about by next week. But for now, you’ll be staying far away from that godforsaken campus.

Not like you missed it anyway. This time away was a well-deserved break in your book.

“Do you have plans for this weekend?” Jaemin asks while bottle feeding a puppy that’s been brought in this week, a newborn that couldn’t be older than a few weeks at best.

You nod, eyes glued to the little angel in your lap that allowed you to trim her claws with minimal fussing, a white fluffy cat that’s been at the shelter for far too long. “I do, yeah. I’m going to a club down in Hongdae tonight.”

He raises a curious brow, stopping the rocking chair’s movements to regain his balance. The little granny chair made him dizzy. “A club? I never took you as the clubbing type.”

“Because I’m not.” You laugh, reaching for the cat’s treats as you set the clippers down on the mat next to you. “My friends are performing so I’m going to support them.”

“Your friends?”

“Have you heard of 3racha?”

“Oh!” Jaemin almost jumps out of his seat, eyes sparkling as you’ve genuinely impressed him, the puppy crying in distress. He looks down, devastated, and takes a moment to comfort him before adding. “The upperclassmen? They’re so cool, everyone on campus loves them and their music.”

Now this is an interesting turn of events. Yes, 3racha was popular, you’d know, but Jaemin being a fan? This you were not expecting, for some reason. Their music was for everyone, but Jaemin struck you as the type of guy who’d only listen to bubblegum pop and whatever music inspired him enough to create a choreography around.

Who would’ve thought he was a cool guy, with great taste, after all?

Setting his coolness aside for a moment, he was definitely a good guy, first and foremost. Tall, nice smile, friendly, and with a soft spot for animals? You can’t believe you haven’t seen it before, but he would be perfect for Seohyun! Exactly the type of guy she needed after dealing with one too many fuckboys for the past three years.

They needed to meet. And you will make it happen, no matter what.

“Yep, them.” You try to contain the grin that’s threatening to expose your newly formed plan. “Actually, why don’t you join us? We have a pretty big table and you know what they say, the more friends, the livelier the party.”

If he were to judge you based on the dark circles under your eyes, and the lack of light in them, Jaemin would realize in a heartbeat that the last thing you were in the mood for was a party.

Thankfully, he’s clueless. Still, his smile does drop a little, making him resemble the puppy in his arms

“Oh, thank you but I’m going back home tonight.”

“Wait, really?” Your smile morphs into a genuine one as you resume your task, moving to the last paw once the cat has gotten her fill of pets. “That’s great! I know you’ve been missing home like crazy.”

He laughs, setting the empty bottle on the table next to him and gently moving the puppy in his lap, a little lost on how to handle him. In his hands, you could barely spot the small dalmatian. “Oh God, sorry for talking your ear off about it all the time, by the way. But yeah, I’m taking a train tonight and I’ll unfortunately be back on Monday since we have a game.”

“Already? Doesn’t the season start in October?” It escapes without meaning to, and you only realize a moment too late, lips pressing into a thin line in regret.

Jaemin nods and doesn’t question your sudden interest. “It does. This one is a pre-season game to help us warm up and better our teamwork.”

“Oh yeah? And who’s going to be wearing your jersey and cheering you on?” Teasing him has become second nature at this point, smirking while fluttering your lashes for the full effect.

Yet, he isn’t far behind. “You can if you come.” He says it so nonchalantly that sometimes you can’t tell if he’s still joking or has suddenly decided to become serious.

And it never misses. The face you make by scrunching your nose is the true and accurate picture of disgust.

“I’m joking.” He drags out the word, huffing while rolling his eyes. When your face is back to normal, relief prominent on your features, he adds a little quieter. “Still, I’d be happy to have you there cheering for me.”

Both of your eyebrows hike up in surprise, a tinge of amusement in your voice. “Who says I’ll be cheering on you?”

“Then who will you be cheering on, huh?” He bites back, reminding you of a certain someone. “The enemy? Where’s your school spirit, Y/n?”

Finally done, you release the cat who jumps off your lap happily, returning to headbutt your hand in demand of some more treats for being so obedient. You swear Snowflake was smarter than she let on. “That depends. Who are you playing against?”

“Yonsei.”

“Oh, is Daehyun still the captain?” Jaemin nods, scooting closer to the edge of his seat, as if preparing himself for an impressive story, all while still petting the small dog that has fallen asleep in his lap. “Wow, so then this marks his fourth year as the captain. Impressive.”

Daehyun was a year older than you and most of your friends, and you remember meeting him in your first year after SNU beat Yonsei and prevented them from advancing that season. A good player, but a little too cocky for your taste.

For some unknown reason, you notice Jaemin’s light dim, body tensing in his seat as he bites down on his bottom lip, looking uncomfortable. No, not uncomfortable – nervous. Why was Jaemin nervous?

“Can you tell me more about him?”

Snowflake takes that as her cue to leave, obviously not a fan of sports, fluffy tail bouncing away with her every step, brushing against Jaemin’s leg on her way out. The front door was locked so for as long as you were concerned, she could wander around as much as she pleased.

“Me?” A laugh escapes you, trying to lighten up the sudden heavy atmosphere. “Aren’t you the one on the team?”

He looks a little sheepish, hands clasped together leisurely in a sign of fake confidence. Seeing him lack confidence was a weird sight, one you would have never associated with him before. “I joined the team late last year, so I haven’t played against them yet.”

Taking pity on him, you decide to share whatever information you remember about them, Hyunjin’s words ringing in your mind. “Daehyun is their main quarterback.” Then you pause, realizing you’re missing a crucial piece of the puzzle. “Wait, what’s your position on the field?”

“I’m a left tackle.”

Tackles were usually seen as bulldozers, their responsibilities on the field varying. Speaking from an offensive point of view, there were five linemen in a team at all times, needed for the game to be playable. Jaemin was a left tackle, which meant he protected the quarterback from the left side, working alongside the other four men to ensure nobody from the other team touched Hyunjin. When they weren’t doing that, they worked together to push back the defense and create openings for their teammates.

His role was important but not as crucial as the center. He started the game and without him, Hyunjin and the others wouldn’t be able to run freely on the field. That’s why, the title of captain was usually given either to the center or to one of the quarterbacks. On the other hand, since Hyunjin was right-handed, the left tackle protected his blindside which automatically made Jaemin the most important tackle on the field.

The center controlled the offensive line but the quarterback’s responsibility was to lead the entire team, to know their positions at all times before even thinking about passing the ball.

That’s exactly why, the decision of who’ll get to wear the heavy captain badge was the easiest one the team has had to make three years ago. Nobody but Hyunjin fit that role to a T.

And here you were again, thinking about him. Great.

Even so, Jaemin must be an impressive player to be given such an important role so soon.

“Daehyun usually comes from the right, letting the others take care of his blindside and intercept any danger. He’s selfish and likes to hog the ball, pretending to pass just to mess with your head.”

He’s listening so intently that you’re afraid he might fall, rocking chair tipped forward. “But there’s no need to worry. You’re not the one he’s after, anyway.”

For some reason, your reassurance doesn’t seem to settle his nerves, muscles tense as he begins rolling his shoulders back to get rid of some of the knots. Still, he manages to smile, obviously thankful. “Thank you. I’ll keep everything in mind.”

Just as you’re about to speak again, question his sudden change in mood, your phone buzzes loudly in your hoodie’s pocket, pulling you away from the present moment. Briefly glancing at the caller ID, you answer without much thought, Jaemin taking this as his cue to bring the small puppy back to his siblings.

“Hey, Bin. What’s up?” He didn’t usually call you, most of your communication happening through sporadic texting or whenever you’d drop by their studio to see Chris and Jisung. Changbin was the textbook definition of a social butterfly, with friends in places one wouldn’t think he even frequented. Well liked and friendly, he was the most extroverted member of 3racha, the party animal that knew how to have fun and make any situation entertaining for everyone.

“Ay, how’s my favorite social media manager doing?”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes as if he could somehow see you. “Great. I’m taking care of some cute animals right now; life couldn’t be better.”

Even though you were mostly joking, since life has been pretty shitty for a while now, Changbin chooses to believe you, joining in your laughter. “So, you’re not in class either?”

“Listen, I’d rather do anything else than sit through another one of Mr. Kim’s boring and drawn-out lectures. That guy just doesn’t know when to stop talking.”

He hums, agreeing completely. Mr. Kim was your Music Theory professor, with an impressive career behind him that in most people’s opinion should have ended ten years ago. He was one of the best, and most renowned professors at SNU, however, his way of doing things has gone out of style a long time ago, so usually, his lectures were filled with him rambling about how music isn’t what it once was, and how this university has gone to shit thanks to its unserious staff and students.

Perhaps Mr. Kim hasn’t been doing too hot lately.

“Oh, he really fucked us over this time.”

Your brows furrow, confusion visible all over your face. “What do you mean?”

“Can you swing by the studio later? I’ll explain everything in detail then.” He sounds tired, more so than usual, and you find yourself agreeing just so you won’t become another inconvenience for him.

With what seemed like a weight lifted off his sturdy shoulders, Changbin exhaled and thanked you softly. “Where’s that shelter of yours? Should I send someone to pick you up?”

You shake your head just as Jaemin pops back into the room, puppy free. “No, that’s okay. I’ll be there in half an hour or so.”

“Alright. See you later.”

The call ends shortly after, and as you pocket the phone, Snowflake returns to headbutt your hand, just as Jaemin comes to a stop in front of you. “Do you need to go? I can close up in here by myself if it’s urgent.”

It was currently six pm on a Friday, which meant no other volunteers were going to show up until tomorrow morning. You were the only two people left, having stayed past the usual closing hour just so you could keep the animals company for a little more.

You knew Jaemin was eager to return home, to his two babies – there was no way you were going to do that to him, no matter how much he insisted he didn’t mind.

“That’s fine. We can do it together.”

You swear the smile he shoots your way has something twist in your heart, a similar feeling to the knife that’s been firmly stuck in there for months now. It’s painful and you almost flinch away from him, the only thing keeping you in place being the possibility of him noticing and not turning a blind eye, asking about it worriedly.

He was perfect for Seohyun.

Closing up doesn’t take long, even though it’s your first time doing so with someone else. Jaemin keeps blabbering the whole time, finally back to normal and worry free, and you’re happy your previous conversation didn’t have any lasting effect. Game day was a big deal and he was bound to feel nervous. That never truly goes away.

Bidding him goodbye, he’s on his merry way, skipping back to campus while whistling a happy tune. The sight makes you long for the days when you were this happy and carefree, and a part of you can’t help but wonder if you are ever going to feel that way again. Happiness and content seemed so far away – what if they became a part of your brain, you could never access again?

With similar questions spinning around in your loud mind, the trip to your friend’s studio takes half the time it usually does, and you barely register you’ve arrived until you find yourself pushing the door open and entering the familiar building that belonged to Changbin’s father. 3racha’s main studio resided here, even before they gathered an audience and were just teenage boys with a dream, working towards their goals with a hunger that hasn’t yet been satisfied.

Since then, they acquired two more studios. This one was Changbin’s, his preferred workplace he could usually be found at but also their headquarters. Jisung’s was at their apartment, in one of the free rooms he turned into his sanctuary, his safe place that held all of his guitars and unreleased songs. As for Chris, he settled on renting a small place, a few blocks away, just for himself and his trusted laptop he’d be ruined without. The boys loved working together and spending time with one another but sometimes, it all got too much, too suffocating, so they needed their separate spaces to manage to work in peace and get some alone time.

All of the important meetings happened here, in the studio everything started back in high school, so it’s not like they had the time to become too independent or feel lonely. The three of them were a team, after all, Chris’ arms he could never navigate life without. Fundamental parts of him that also couldn’t function on their own, needing the glue that kept them together at all times.

The building hosted numerous businesses, providing them with the space necessary for their workers. Changbin’s father was a multi-millionaire tycoon, owning most of the apartment buildings in the city, including the one you were currently living in. He offered to fund 3racha’s dream and catapult them to stardom, just like they’ve always wanted, but they’ve always refused, firm on the decision of making and walking their own path, even if it was muddy or lacking any of the desired light.

You’ve always admired that about them, the fact that they didn’t choose the easy way, give in to the temptation that was right at their fingertips, on a pretty, silver platter.

Pressing the fifth-floor button, the elevator doors close and you’re left alone with your thoughts for a total of 30 seconds before you step into the freshly cleaned, sleek white hallway whose marble floors seem to sparkle. The sheer size of it all used to intimidate you, with all the twists and turns and numerous closed doors that seemed to mock your existence. But now, you barely acknowledge your surroundings as you stroll towards the end of the hallway, passing by a nicely decorated kitchen area with snacks, drinks, and too many sitting arrangements.

The last door, behind which resided the largest room on the floor, which was off limits to everyone except Changbin and his friends, was the only one welcoming you warmly. Almost like it burrowed some of its owner’s warmth, as strangely as that sounded.

Your hand is raised, ready to knock, and let yourself in before loud voices from inside make you stop dead in your tracks.

“I don’t think you understand how serious this actually is!” You hear Changbin say, voice raised beyond its usual volume. A murmur is all you decipher before he speaks again, distress clear as day in his tone.

“Minho, Hyunjin blew up at someone today!”

And just like that, your heart skips so many beats that you believe you’ve momentarily stopped breathing, hand flopping to your side unceremoniously. There’s no air entering your lungs anymore, frozen on the spot like you were getting broken up with for a second time in three months. Why did everything have to circle back to Hyunjin, in one way or another? Was he experiencing similar things or were you officially going crazy?

“What?” Minho finally lets out, sounding confused, sign he hasn’t witnessed the scene Changbin is referencing.

Minho, along with Changbin and Felix, who has been studying abroad in Australia for a year now, were Hyunjin’s best friends. They have been each other’s rocks ever since high school before you got the chance to meet him.

Minho was as overprotective of his people as Chris was, ready to fight anyone who dared hurt his precious friends. An intimidating panther who bared his teeth at the first sign of danger, ready to pounce and eliminate any threat.

And as of late, one thing was clear as the sky on a sunny day. Minho absolutely despised you.

“We were by the field,” Changbin begins, sighing like remembering the scene was painful, “and these girls sitting behind us in the bleachers were going on and on, gossiping about him and that stupid fucking picture. They knew we could hear them, heck the whole team could, but they didn’t fucking care and kept speculating about his relationship and the reason it ended, spouting all of this nonsense like it was any of their business to begin with!”

Minho is quiet, processing everything as Changbin stops to breathe, inhaling greedily like he is running out of time and needs to let it all out before it is too late. “I saw the moment his patience ran out, jaw clenching in anger, like a bomb ready to explode at any moment. And then, before I can do anything about it, Hyunjin turns around and tells them to shut the fuck up and get a life.”

You’re taken aback, not being able to wrap your head around the information Changbin just revealed. This was so unlike him, to react so rashly and be overcome by anger, that you almost didn’t recognize the person from the story as being him. Hyunjin was rational, level headed which helped him juggle all of his responsibilities with ease. He wasn’t rude and snappy but then again, if you had a backbone, you might’ve reacted in the same way. The gossiping has gone too far, spiraling out of control like you were nothing more than a story on the front page of a cheap magazine.

“Deserved.” Is all Minho says, a certain pride in his voice. Changbin on the other hand, doesn’t seem to think the same.

“Minho, you don’t get it. I was afraid he was going to throw his heavy ass duffle bag at their heads!”

“Maybe he should have.”

“You can’t be serious.” You hear the chair squeak as he presumably stands up, exasperated.

“And why not, Changbin? You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. People have gotten a little too comfortable with talking about actual strangers and their personal lives, harassing them on social media and treating them like fucking celebrities.” Minho’s voice is full of disdain, controlled anger dripping from each word.

Changbin doesn’t respond, which has you wondering about the look on his face. Even though Minho was harsh, he wasn’t wrong – you all knew that.

“Yes, Hyunjin is popular, but does that mean they can pick apart his life for fun? Turning him into campus gossip like he’s not just a regular student trying to navigate whatever the fuck he’s currently going through?”

“This is unlike him.” Changbin breathes out, sharing your sentiment.

“Why? Because he finally had enough and snapped?” Minho counters. “Hyunjin has been through a lot recently, and now he’s reacting accordingly. I would have been more concerned if he wasn’t angry.”

They’re both quiet for a moment, silence stretching on as the gears in your head keep turning faster and faster. Hyunjin’s behavior made no sense, especially since you lived under the impression that he was fine and dandy experiencing life to the fullest. His anger was justified, yes, but was it really necessary? People gossiped about him all the time, calling him awful names whenever the team lost a game or made a wrong call, and he has never reacted in this way.

Could Hyunjin actually be more affected by your break up than you initially thought?

As you get closer, eager to hear more, the door suddenly swings open and you stumble back, startled and embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping. And as fate has it, since you can never win, the one towering over you with his intimidating presence alone is Minho, whose cold eyes are glaring tiny icicles at every part of your existence.

He pauses, on the verge of saying something, most likely preparing to chew you out when he scoffs, deeming your existence unworthy of his attention as he walks away, grazing your shoulder with his, which has more of an impact than an actual collision. Minho’s indifference hurt, but his anger? That was lethal.

“Minho – oh, hey! Were you waiting long?” Changbin almost bumps into you, eyes flickering to yours before looking past you in search of his friend.

Still a little shaken, you make way, stepping out of the doorway. “You can go after him.”

Just then, the sound of the elevator arriving fills the air, and Changbin lets out a defeated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, it’s fine. Come in.”

You do as he says, not thinking too much about it, thankful he was too busy with whatever was currently going through his mind to put two and two together and realize you’ve been here for a while. Or maybe he did and simply didn’t care. Changbin could be too nice for his own good, sometimes.

The studio looked the same as always: fancy equipment, Changbin’s numerous instruments, two black leather couches by the floor-to-ceiling windows, and a glass, sparkly coffee table. For better acoustics, both the floor and the four walls were made of wood, dark oak to be exact. It made the room feel cozy, war,m and welcoming despite the intimidating smell of money that hit you from the moment you stepped inside.

The recording booth was where all the magic happened though, the place of birth of most of their discography. Every single inch of it was soundproof, and you remember Chris telling you about the times he used to lock himself in there just to scream when life got a little too overwhelming. To test it out, years ago when it was first set up, Minho and Jisung had a screaming competition – the sight of them from behind the tiny window that separated the two spaces, going back and forth animatedly while no sound could be heard on your end was hysterical.

A huff escapes him as he flops on the leather chair by the desk, suddenly looking so much smaller as exhaustion seems to settle deep into his bones. You’re quiet, taking a seat opposite him on the closest couch, watching as he runs both hands through unruly dark curls, pulling himself together.

“Thanks for coming.” He manages to smile, spinning his chair to face you. “Do you want something to drink?” Changbin nods towards the mini fridge to your left, and you shake your head.

“Are you alright?” You can’t help yourself, concerned after hearing his previous conversation.

“Just peachy.” He slouches into his chair, getting comfortable. “I haven’t seen you in class in a hot minute.”

You fidget on the spot, his conversation with Minho still fresh in your mind adding to your discomfort. Changbin might’ve been your friend, but you weren’t that close, especially not close enough to confide in him about such a sensitive subject.

Thankfully, a grin finds its way onto his features, eyes staring at nothing in particular as he snorts. “That’s mostly because I haven’t shown up at all this week, but you know.”

Despite yourself, your muscles relax, the atmosphere lighter. “Why are you skipping class?” You laugh, reaching for one of the small, decorative pillows nearby to hug to your chest.

“I’m making money moves, Y/n. I have no time for senile profs and fifth grader homework.”

Oh, yes, alluding to Mr. Kim and his assignments that have you analyzing the same three music sheets since your freshman year.

“See, you get me. Chris on the other hand, just scolds me for skipping.”

He shakes his head. “That’s because he gets a music boner for the guy. He respects him too much.”

You’re both laughing, easily falling back into your usual banter.

“What did he do though?”

“Right.” He rolls his eyes like he’s remembering an unpleasant memory. “So, he suddenly decided on a new assignment that’s worth 50% of our grade. A group project.”

Your smile vanishes, fists tightening on the poor pillow. “What the fuck? When?”

“Today, when we were skipping!” Changbin lets out a humorless laugh, slapping his knee as his way of coping. “Chris texted me all about it a few hours ago. Can you believe it?”

No, you couldn’t. You also couldn’t wrap your head around the reason Chris, your childhood best friend, your other half, hasn’t texted you anything about it to begin with. He knew where you were and what you were doing, not busy in the slightest, so why was he keeping you out of the loop?

And Jisung? Where the fuck was Jisung?

“Anyways, so his brilliant idea entrails pairing us up with someone we haven’t worked with before. Because out there in the real world, you won’t always get the chance to work with your friends, apparently.” He scoffs loudly, voicing your displeasure, properly annoyed at the old man. “That’s how we ended up stuck with each other.”

The way he says it hurts the tiniest bit, but you brush past it with a chuckle. “Gee, don’t get too excited, Bin. A girl might get the wrong idea.”

Changbin blinks, slowly processing your words before his eyes widen. “No! Oh my god, Y/n, please don’t get me wrong! I’m so fucking glad I got you and not some rando that won’t bother pulling their weight!”

Relief washes over you, the pillow falling slack in your lap. “But?”

“Not buts.” He shakes his head. “I know you usually work with Chan so I can understand if you’re disappointed you got stuck with me.”

“You’re kidding right?” You tilt your head, frowning. “I’m so happy it’s you and not someone I don’t know! We’re friends and I know your work ethic, I couldn’t ask for a better partner for this assignment, Bin.”

Now he’s beaming, no trace of any of his worries left behind, pleased by your words. “Thank you, Y/n.”

Changbin has always been someone easy to get along with, and he was one of the most hardworking people you knew. If you couldn’t work with Chris or Jisung, you were glad it was him. There was no doubt in your mind your team was going to ace this.

“So, what do we have to do, exactly?” You move the conversation along, leaning back to melt into the comfy couch.

“Hold on, I’ll send you the doc I got from Chan.” He wheels over to his laptop, and as it comes to life, your curiosity is peaked by something that looks like a workout plan which he minimizes a little too quickly. A minute or so later, your phone dings with a new text from him.

“We essentially have to come up with five songs by the end of the semester, and put them together in a mini album.”

Your mouth falls open, eyes glued to the screen as you start reading all of the instructions. “Why the hell is he taking over Mrs. Oh’s class? Music theory does not involve any of the shit he’s sprouting in here.”

Spinning to face you, Changbin’s distress is back in tenfold. “I know! I heard he got mad people stopped taking him seriously and are skipping his boring class.”

Great, another washed-up professor who longed for his glory days. This university loved getting on your nerves and keeping you in a constant state of stress and anxiety, like worrying about your future wasn’t already giving you enough of that. You should have just chosen Yonsei.

Exhaling loudly, you throw your phone to the side and push your hair back. “All right, a mini album about what? Because I’m sure he’s not giving us any creative freedom here.”

Changbin nods, reaching for his coffee. “The five stages of grief.”

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

After you almost popped a blood vessel because of Mr. Kim on Friday and established how and when you were going to start working on those songs with Changbin, Monday rolls around a bit too quickly for your liking.

You’ve spent the weekend thinking about it, measuring the pros and cons before deciding on accepting Jaemin’s invitation. The one which involved you getting off your butt and going to a football game. A game your ex was undoubtedly going to be present at, taking front stage.

You haven’t been to a game in almost five months, having stopped attending when things went sour in your relationship. Other than that, you have been going since your freshman year, when he was first made captain.

Football wasn’t one of your passions, never was, and never will be, but for him, you made an effort, and now your head was full of useless information about a sport you couldn’t care less about. A loss in your book, but a win at the time when it was serving a purpose. Now, you were no different from an old encyclopedia about a topic that has long stopped being relevant, outdated, pulled off the shelves to make room for the new, shinier books the students could reference in their papers.

But you had a plan.

You were going to show up, introduce Seohyun to Jaemin, and make sure they hit it off and then dip, preferably before the game even starts. It was brilliant, one of the best ideas you’ve come up with in a while. Nothing could go wrong, right? You were bound to get some good luck after the horrible run you’ve had, it was going to be alright. If a miracle were to somehow occur, you might not even bump into your ex.

However, since you chose to not share your plan with anyone, your friends were more than surprised as you sprung that on them, seemingly out of nowhere.

“You want to go where?” Chris lets out after a coughing fit, drinking from Jisung’s water. Seohyun and Jisung look just as taken aback, not understanding your sudden excitement, sharing concerned looks across the table.

“Please? It will be fun!” And then, you turn to Seohyun next to you, who froze with her milkshake halfway to her mouth. The noisy diner is suddenly quiet, almost like it shared their sentiments. “I want you to meet someone!”

She points to herself, even more confused. “Me? You’re doing this for me?”

Jisung leans over the table, getting a hold of your hand so your attention can be on him. “What are you planning, you little minx?”

You feel Chris’ eyes bore holes into the side of your head, staring at you intently, in the hopes of breaking through the wall you set up and reaching your true feelings. He knew you too well – there was no way you were as excited as you let out to be.

You expected them to be concerned, but maybe not to this extent. It was odd and out of character for you who avoided everything that had to do with your past relationship, to be so excited about something like this. Chris definitely believed it was too soon, your heart still too fragile to remain intact once you stepped into the wolf’s den.

And you agreed but maybe this was exactly what you needed. The best way to confront your fears was head-on. The more you kept running, the more you let them control every aspect of your life, allowing misery to be present at every hour of the day.

Maybe this was the first step you needed to take in order to feel like your old self again, the person you were before him. Before his love destroyed you.

And so, you try your best to ignore the look in Chris’ eyes, shaking off the discomfort his scrutiny has brought forth. “I’ve found your prince charming.”

Seohyun is surprised, eyebrows meeting her hairline as she sets down her drink, reaching for your other hand. “Babe – “

“Come on, stop worrying, all of you. We’re going to have fun!”

They’re silent, staring at each other as if they were trying to decipher the way they should approach this, how to respond. Your smile is strained but doesn’t falter, putting on your most convincing mask. Fake it till you make it and then you’ll feel alright.

In the end, Chris sighs, defeated. “Okay. Let’s go.”

You don’t get the chance to celebrate before his voice softens, gently redirecting your attention to his last words. “But if at any time, you feel the need to leave, or just get bored or whatever, you let me know, yeah?”

Once again, it looked like he managed to read your mind and find your original plan, proof of how well he knew you.

And that’s exactly how you ended up by the football field later that day, up in the bleachers searching for your seats, a little after four pm. One of your other friends, Jeongin, got here earlier to pick the best ones, close to the stairs to aid in your quick escape.

Even for a pre-season game, every single student seemed to be here, the stadium packed with people from all departments, all excited to cheer for their favorite team. And the guys on them. As your gaze trails downwards, to the field and the players who are currently crowded by a small group of girls, you manage to recognize all of their faces. Their long time girlfriends are wearing their jerseys, fussing over their uniform and overall condition, making sure the guys were fit to play. On the opposite side of the field are the guys from Yonsei, not as loud and excited since this wasn’t their ‘homeland’, but still as supported and cheered on.

You manage to spot Daehyun, who’s looking a little worse for wear, pacing back and forth like his overall game plan changed in the blink of an eye. Odd.

“Guys, over here!” Jeongin yells, patting the seats beside him with the sweetest smile on his boyish face. Seohyun pulls you along, your hand in hers and the others follow, with Jisung still talking Chris’ ear off about some new video game he managed to beat last night. He couldn’t care less about football, he never has.

The moment you make it to your seats, you’re pulled into a brief hug Jeongin plans to escape a little too soon. When he makes to pull away, you only hug him tighter, which surprisingly, he isn’t mad about, laughing loudly. Seems like he has missed you just as much.

However, when the greetings continue around you, a nearby conversation prevents you from getting out of the way, too curious to sit down.

“Did you guys hear Hyunjin won’t be playing this season?” A girl sitting in the row below asks her friends, whose faces fall at the news.

Multiple gasps are heard, one more surprised than the other. “What? No way that’s true!”

“It is!” Another girl chimes in, nodding. “Apparently some other guy is taking his place. A rookie.”

And that’s the exact moment your world seems to collapse, eyes almost popping out of their sockets as you whip around to face the field once again, desperately searching for those familiar numbers on his back. In your haste, you don’t find them, and panic threatens to overtake you until your eyes land on the captain badge pinned on a red jersey. Something looks off though, because usually, under the big C, Hyunjin has two stars, and they were supposed to add another to signify the three years he’s spent as the captain of this team.

This badge has none.

Because the guy that’s currently taking off his helmet, shaking his head while smiling brightly at something his teammates have said isn’t Hyunjin.

It’s Jaemin.

[55szn]

lacy - mv1

max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

summary yn can't keep hiding her true feelings towards max

wc 1,6 k (i was supposed to keep it short for this one but oh well)

warnings this one angsty as fuuuck, reader kinda sucks sorry

a/n first post of this series omg i'm so excited!!!!!! i haven't written in a while so this may not be the best of my works but this is still one of my favorites <33 also english is not my first language so...yeah

YN sighed as she pulled the balaclava off and immediately ran her hand through her sweaty hair, attempting to make it look decent. Once again she was finishing behind Max. The Dutch looked back at her as he got down from the top of his car and gave her a sweet smile, she tried her best to reciprocate that smile but it probably looked as fake as it felt.

She couldn't really pinpoint when her rotten mind had started to harbor these feelings towards the man she loved.

YN's first encounter with Max occurred when they were barely teenagers, amid the noisy circuits of karting competitions. There was something captivating in that lanky and slightly awkward teenager that drew YN to him like a magnet. As time went on, their bond deepened, among endless talks of shared dreams that seemed unreachable at the time.

The first time Max kissed YN, she felt in heaven, enveloped in a kind of excitement she had never known. It didn't take long before he asked her to be his girlfriend and she accepted thinking life couldn't get better than that.

The mutual decision to keep their relationship under wraps seemed obvious, a conscious choice made as they started their parallel journeys into Formula 1, that was not the kind of attention they were seeking.

She felt true happiness for Max's overwhelming success, she truly did, at least at the beginning.

But YN found herself caught in the shadow of his success, a place she hadn't anticipated occupying. Eventually every podium celebration and victory lap, served as a bitter reminder of the expectations she was failing to meet. She couldn't acknowledge these feelings so she masked this resentment beneath a facade of congratulatory smiles and kisses. The press was no help. They endlessly compared their careers and although YN had managed to get some satisfying results, she was nowhere near Max's level. They ate it up, it gave them good headlines to pit them against the other. They were the embodiment of a tantalizing narrative – two very young drivers with great success in the lower categories, shared dreams and a seemingly unbreakable "friendship", both coming into F1 with good teams and high expectations but only one of them was reaching those expectations. It was a good story, sure. But the story was tearing YN apart.

Perhaps the tipping point arrived with a very specific headline, its words forever etched into her brain: "Max Verstappen: Vettel reincarnate." With each syllable, YN's throat constricted, her stomach twisting into knots. Max seemed to effortlessly get everything she ever yearned for, now he was getting put at the same level as her biggest idol and inspiration which proved to be too much to handle for her. And with each of his accomplishments the poisonous seed of envy took root within her heart.

It was so contradictory, when she finally admitted it to herself. She loved Max more than she loved herself and maybe that was the root of the problem, her own insecurities and bruised ego. But it was becoming impossible to fake a smile every time she saw him on that top step. She knew it wasn't true but she almost felt like Max was out to get her.

She hated Max. And she hated herself for that fact. How could one harbor so much love and hatred for someone at the same time?

She was loosing her mind, her fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her emotions. Of course the ever attentive eyes of the press and the fans noticed the way her once adoring glances towards Max were now replaced with icy stares. How she couldn't even make the effort to raise the corners of her mouth whenever Max complimented her skills or her racing. His tenders words of admiration which once felt like a warm summer breeze began to feel like bullets grazing her already wounded skin, they felt like mockery. It was only a matter of time until Max started noticing this too.

Something was clearly happening, and that's why he found himself knocking on her apartment's door late at night, the echoes of the particularly hard weekend YN had endured still reverberating through his mind. The bitter taste of failure and disappointment still lingered on her lips. YN had struggled with the car and couldn't even make it out of Q2, and Sunday's race offered little reprieve, finishing in a P11 that tasted of unfulfilled expectations. While, of course, Max had made a brilliant pole position and had won the race, once again making everyone worship the ground he walked on. He hadn't seen YN since the race finished. She flew back to Mónaco that same night without even letting him know and without even asking if he wanted to fly back with her, which was the case almost every weekend. Max wasn't stupid, he could tell something was up with her lately, the distance she was putting between them, he was loosing her. And he loved her too much to let her go without a fight.

The door creaked open, YN's figure against the dim lighting within. Her jealous eyes clouded with heavy feelings. She stepped aside wordlessly, allowing Max to enter, her silence was louder that any word could ever be.

He carefully walked in, the all too familiar environment of his girlfriend's apartment suddenly feeling cold and foreign. Max was tense before taking a seat on the armrest of her couch. His heart felt heavy, he already wanted to cry. He had trouble getting the words out, something that had never happened in the years he had known YN. What had they become?

He swallowed dry before finally finding his voice. "I think we need to have a talk." His gaze was pleading for her to meet his eyes, but she kept staring at her shoes.

She froze at his words and her fingers tightened around the edge of the table she was leaning against. She could tell this conversation was coming, yet she dreaded the flood of emotions threatening to consume her, scared of the things she could say.

"What is it, Max?" Her voice was strained, an inner battle developing inside her, trying to control her emotions.

"You know what it is about, schat." Her jaw tightened at the pet name, now it somehow sounded condescending, even though deep down she knew that wasn't true. "YN something's been bothering you lately. I know it. Please talk to me."

YN's heart clenched painfully at his words, her resolve crumbling under the weight of her own inner turmoil. How could she even begin to articulate the burning envy and resentment that coursed through her veins every time she looked at him? How could she admit out loud to hating the man she loved more than life itself?

When she finally looked up and met his stare she felt the monstrous feeling that had been gnawing at her conscience completely engulf her and she wasn't in control of her own words anymore. Her eyes burning with a contradictory mix of longing and loathing. "Are you seriously asking me that, Max?" Her voice trembled with suppressed emotion.

Max recoiled at the intensity of her stare and her tone, a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach by the anticipatory feeling of his world crumbling down completely. "YN, I..."

"You know damn well what's going on." YN's voice cracked with emotion, her words laced with a bitterness that made it unrecognizable to both of them. "You have everything, Max. The wins, the championships, the adoration of the whole fucking world. Everything I ever wanted, you took it for yourself." She knew she wasn't making sense, the words were spilling out of her mouth before she had the time to catch them.

Max's heart constricted with an unfair amount of guilt. "YN, I... I had no idea you felt this way."

"And why would you?" She retorted, her voice rising with each word. "You're too busy basking in your own glory to notice how much it's killing me to be constantly compared to you." That wasn't his fault, and she knew it. It was the pure and evil hatred that consumed her that was speaking those words.

He felt like he had been punched in the gut. "I'm sorry." He shouldn't have to apologize for what he accomplished after years and years of hard work, yet he did, the fear of loosing her bigger than the need to acknowledge his self worth.

The hurt mirroring in his eyes was obvious, her tone softened before she spoke again. "You don't have to apologize, Max. You deserve it, you deserve it so much. I know that and you should too." She took a sharp breath in. "But knowing that doesn't change how I feel. I...I hate you."

He looked at her, stunned. His heart plummeted to his stomach. Her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their meaning.

"I do. I hate you Max. I hate you for being able to get everything I've only ever dared to dream of." She couldn't believe she was admitting it to Max's face, breaking the heart of the man she claimed to love.

Max felt as though the ground had been ripped out from under him, the sting of her words cutting deeper than any wound ever could. "I can't believe you're saying this," he mumbled, his voice chocked.

"I wish I didn't have to Max but I can't bear to keep lying to your face. I wish I could just pretend like everything's okay, like I'm still happy for you. But I can't, I'm sorry." YN's voice cracked with the weight of her confession, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at him with a strange mix of love and loathing. "I love you too much to keep lying to you."

The silence was sepulcral, years and years of shared moments full of love completely destroyed by the sick envy that had infected YN.

But the truth is, their love was doomed from the beginning.

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

The Princess and The Pogue | J. M.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Your daughter comes home from school telling you about a local OBX fairytale. It turns out it’s about you and your husband.

Listen to But Daddy I Love Him for full experience

Requested by @idontevenknowbsblog

A/N: This turned out way longer and more angsty than I had anticipated but I’m a sucker for the angst. I just can’t help it. I’m sorry this took me a million years to finish!

As I am an adult, all characters I write for are written as adults. Any minor characters will be aged up to the general range of their actor’s age.

Warnings: allusions to domestic abuse, controlling parents, forced engagement, so much fucking angst, only kinda proofread

Word Count: 3.5k

-

Your daughter’s tiny feet press against the back of your seat as you head home after picking her up from school.

“Mia, stop kicking,” You laugh, “Mommy’s trying to drive.”

“Sorry, Mommy.” Your daughter giggles. “I’m just so happy today!”

“I’m so glad you're happy, Baby.” You smile at the five year old in the rearview mirror. “What did you do at school today?”

“We got to draw all our shapes today and we sang the alphabet song a bunch of times!”

“Ooh sounds like a fun day.”

She claps excitedly. “Oh and Kylie’s older sister told us a fairytale at recess!”

“A fairytale? Very cool. What was it about?”

“Did you know a princess used to live here? A long time ago. She ran away with a pogue because her evil king father wouldn’t let them be together.”

Your eyes widen at her words, a small smile forming on your face as she tells the story that takes you back to what seems like a lifetime ago.

-

“Mom, I’m headed out,” you yelled through the foyer.

“Ok, hun.” Your mom poked her head over the stairwell. “Just don’t stay out too late. We have that business lunch with the Cameron’s tomorrow and it’s very important that you be there.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” you promise, “besides I’m just going to hang out with Sarah.”

“We just love that you and Ward Cameron’s daughter are friends. It looks so good for your father’s business for the families to be close. Especially with you set to inherit the company someday.”

With Ward Cameron being the biggest real estate developer in the Outer Banks and your dad owning the biggest construction company, the two men worked closely on most of their deals. They were also the closest thing to friends that either of the men had. The two richest men in the island made for a powerful team.

“Glad I can help you keep up appearances,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that, hun?”

“Always happy to help the family.” You gave your mother a forced smile and made your escape, slipping outside and into Sarah’s waiting car.

“Ready to go see your man?” She grins at you and you return the gesture.

“God, yes.“

-

You hadn’t expected to fall in love with JJ Maybank. Considering the very different lives the two of you led it was surprising the two of you ever even crossed paths, but that was one of the perks of being Sarah’s friend. When she fell in love with John B and got involved with the pogues she dragged you along with her.

It wasn’t like you had anything against the pogues. In fact, you had admired them from afar your whole life. Their freedom and adventures were something you envied, forever stuck in your kook bubble. You didn’t have a choice but to follow the plan your parents had created for you.

JJ, on the other hand, hated kooks with a passion. He had a hard enough time with Sarah joining the group and when she brought you in, arguably the even bigger kook princess with the even bigger kook king of a father, he vowed to himself he would never accept you. After all, you represented everything he hated, the life he always dreamed of but would never attain.

He would sneer and call you “princess”, his voice dripping with disdain, doing everything in his power to piss you off, but you didn’t mind. You loved his passion and the way he would do anything to protect the people he cared about. You ignored his insults, treating him just as well as you would anyone else.

Before he knew it, your soft words and beaming smile had softened JJ. He began to actually look forward to your presence in the group, feeling sad when you couldn’t get away from your parents to spend time with them. Then, one day the two of you were the only ones to show up to a pogue hang out. You ended up spending hours just talking and getting to know each other. The rest was history and you had been together from that day forward.

Unfortunately, you knew that your parents would never let you spend time around a pogue, let alone be in a relationship with one. So, like Sarah and John B, you and JJ had to keep your relationship hidden. Thanks to the help of the pogues, the two of you had been successfully seeing each other behind your parents’ backs for over a year.

-

“I’ll be back to pick you up at 8:00,” Sarah reminds you. She pulls up to the little cove where you and JJ liked to meet. “We only have a couple of hours tonight because of that lunch tomorrow. Don’t want our families to get suspicious.”

You nod. “Got it. I’ll see you then.” You slip out of her car. “Tell John B I said hi.”

“Will do.”

She pulls away as you make your way around the rocks hiding the entrance to your spot.

“Hi, princess.” Your boyfriend grins at you in the orange light of the sunset, pulling you into a hug.

“JJ,” You breathe him in, soaking up the comfort he gives you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby. Four days without you is four days too much.” JJ leads you over to the blanket on the sand, sitting back so you can settle between his legs.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t get away much this week. My parents are going crazy about this lunch tomorrow.”

“Aren’t they always crazy?” JJ jokes, poking your side. You squirm a little bit, trying to escape his prodding.

“I mean, yeah. They’re just extra crazy this week.” You settle further into his chest, JJ giving up his attack in exchange for wrapping his arms securely around you. He nuzzles his head into the side of your neck. “But, it’s okay because at least we have right now.”

“How long do we have until Sarah comes back to pick you up?”

You let out a sigh. “Two hours.”

“That’s it? Damn.”

“I’m sorry, J.” You look back apologetically, but he just shakes his head.

“Hey, don’t apologize. We just have to make the most of the time we have, like usual. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Right.” You give him a small smile, turning back to face the sunset before he can see the doubt in your eyes. You hoped JJ was right, but you had no idea how things would ever change.

As expected, your time together flew by too quickly and before you knew it Sarah was back to take you home.

JJ was reluctant to let you out of his embrace. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right? After you finish up with all your kook business?”

“Of course, baby. I wouldn’t miss it.” You give him one last goodbye kiss, distracting him long enough to slip out from his arms. He pouts, but lets you go, knowing if it was your choice you would never leave.

-

You stare numbly at the wall, unable to will yourself to move from your position balled up on the bed. You aren’t sure how long you've been laying there looking at nothing. You didn’t feel anything, having cried out all your tears hours ago. A buzzing sounds from the other side of the room, your phone going off once again, but you don’t pick it up. It’s probably Sarah calling again to see if you’re okay after what happened at lunch. You’re not.

Having sat in silence for so long, you jump when you hear a rattling at your window. It takes you a minute to clamber over to the window with the lights out in your room. You hadn’t realized how dark it had become outside.

You peek out warily, trying to determine the source of the noise. “Shit.” You mumble under your breath as you realize JJ is perched in the tree closest to your room.

You unlatch the door so he can climb inside, turning away from him quickly. You’re thankful for the darkness in that moment as you scramble to make yourself look presentable, flattening your hair and wiping at your face. You pull down the sleeves of the massive sweatshirt you’re wearing, one you stole from JJ months ago, making sure you are completely covered.

“JJ, what are you doing here,” you whisper, “What if someone sees you?”

“I was worried about you. You were supposed to meet me hours ago, remember?” He sounds frustrated.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I totally forgot.” You run your hand down your face stressed. “I didn’t mean to stand you up.”

“You forgot? Y/N, I’ve been calling and texting for hours.” JJ moves closer, but you step back. “I thought something bad had happened.”

He takes another step back. Again you back away, trying to keep him from seeing your face. Brows furrowed, JJ moves towards you again. This time you can’t move away fast enough, bumping your dresser as you try to get away.

“Woah, wait.” JJ takes your face in gentle hands. “Have you been crying?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” You try to pull away, but he doesn’t let you off that easily.

“Baby, what’s going on? Is it something I did?” The worry in his eyes brings a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You shake your head, willing them not to fall.

“No, no. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Something with Sarah?” You shake your head again.

“Your parents?” That stills you. “It is your parents. What is it? Did something happen at lunch?”

You don’t answer.

“Talk to me, baby. I can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s wrong.” JJ’s voice is so sincere and his touch so soft. He really thinks he’ll be able to fix whatever the problem is.

You gather your strength and gently pull away from him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes when you tell him.

“My father and Ward Cameron have decided that it is in the best interest of their respective businesses for our families to be officially joined.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

You feel like you're going to be sick, but you force the words out anyway. “I am set to be married to Rafe Cameron.” You keep your eyes on the floor, waiting for JJ’s response. He stays silent.

“I had no idea they had this planned until my parent’s announced it at lunch.”

“What do you mean you’re marrying Rafe Cameron?” He tries to keep his voice calm. But you can hear the venom behind his words anyway. “You can’t just marry Rafe.”

“I don’t have a choice, JJ. They practically signed my ownership papers over to Rafe right there.”

JJ is pacing your room now, hands constantly running through his hair. “He can’t just do that. You’re an adult, Y/N. Tell him no.”

“I can’t tell him no JJ.” He stops in front of you, the look on his face half shock half anger.

“What are you talking about? You can’t just tell me that your father is marrying you off to Rafe and not even try to fight him on it.” You turn from his intense gaze, unable to handle it any longer.

‘Y/N-” JJ reaches for your arm to turn you around and you flinch back hissing in pain. Your sleeve rides up, revealing a number of dark bruises.

“I tried talking him out of it, JJ. He made it clear saying no wasn’t an option.”

JJ seethes, body tense with anger. “He hurt you.” It’s not a question which is just as well because you have no response.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He growls.

You lay your palms flat against his chest. “No, you’re not. We can’t make this situation any worse than it already is.”

“He can’t just get away with this!” JJ’s voice rises with his anger and you shush him quickly, looking back at your door.

“Please, Y/N.” His voice cracks on your name. “Things can’t just end like this.”

The pain in his words breaks your heart. You let the tears fall freely, unable to hold back the emotion any longer.

“I’m so sorry, JJ.” He cradles your face in his hands like he did at the beginning of the night. “There’s nothing either of us can do to change this.” JJ brushes his thumbs against your cheeks, brushing at the tears. “You should go.”

“No, Y/N.” He has tears running down his face too. “I can’t leave you like this.”

“Please, JJ. You have to go before something wakes him up. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds you here.”

JJ’s eyes flit down to your wrists, taking in the bruises once more before he nods slowly. He won’t be the reason your father hurts you again. You lips press against his slowly, both of you pouring all the love you have for each other into the kiss.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips.

“I love you, too. Always.”

With those last words, he slips back out your window, closing it quietly behind him. You watch as he climbs back down the tree and crosses the property. As he finally fades out of blue, you sink down to your floor, your knees unable to hold the weight of your body as it’s wracked with sobs.

-

You don’t leave your room for days. All you can do is lay in your bed and cry, mourning the loss of the man you love and the life you had planned.

If it was up to you, you would never leave that room. Unfortunately, your parents have other plans. They parade you and Rafe all over town, making sure everyone on the island knows the two of you are “madly in love” and engaged to be married in the spring. The whole pageantry of it makes you sick.

The cherry on top of the whole ordeal is the engagement party that you parents planned for the weekend. They rented out the whole club and invited every kook on the island. You’re pretty sure it’s your own personal hell.

Sarah pins one last curl to your head. “Done. You look beautiful.”

You give her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Sarah.” You were dressed in a white sundress that your mother had bought for the party and Sarah had done your hair and makeup to perfection. The whole look was stunning, but you just feel like a trophy being shown off.

Sarah gives you a sympathetic look. “You ready for this?”

“No. But I have to be.”

It takes everything in you to keep a smile pasted on your face as Rafe takes your hand and leads you out to the throng of people. Everyone smiles and hugs you, offering their congratulations. You do your best to seem gracious and excited, but all you feel is emptiness and the faces move before you in a blur.

You make it two hours into the party before you can’t take it any longer. The panic that has been creeping up your throat all night takes hold and you have to break away. You excuse yourself from Rafe, claiming a need to run to the bathroom. He gives you a harsh look and makes you promise to hurry back, but ultimately lets you go.

You hurry away from prying eyes, not letting yourself break until you get inside. Chest heaving, you gulp down air like you’ve just run a marathon. One of your hands is pressed against your chest, the other braced against the walls to hold you up as you stumble towards the bathroom.

Before you can make it more than a few feet an arm catches you around the waist, pulling you into an alcove you had never noticed. You stumble back, trying to pull yourself together, not wanting whoever grabbed you to see your harried state.

“Hey, hey. It’s just me.”

Familiar hands rub up and down your arms, grounding you. You look up to see the blue eyes that you love so much.

“JJ,” you whisper, breaths still coming fast and hard.

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

JJ holds you close as you will your body to calm, feeling safe for the first time all night.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, talk to you.”

You sigh, looking at him with sad eyes. “As happy as I am that you’re here, you have to go. If anyone sees you. My father, or Rafe-”

“What if you didn’t have to worry about them anymore?”

“JJ, we’ve been over this. I can’t break this engageme-”

“What if we just left? You and me. Right now.” His eyes bore into yours, willing you to see the possibility.

You can’t act like you haven’t had the same thought yourself, but you just didn’t see how it would be possible. “How would that work, JJ? My father controls my whole life. My money, my future, everything.”

“You don’t need anything he has to give you, Y/N.” His voice is pleading.

“JJ…”

“We can figure it out. You have a degree, I have experience. We’ll get jobs. We’ll make it work.” He reaches a hand into his pocket. “I know I can’t give you a life like this-”

“I don’t want a life like this.”

“-but I will do everything in my power to give you a good life, to make you happy.” He holds up a simple, beautiful band of silver. “Will you marry me?”

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Are you serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Say you’ll marry me. We can leave right now. I have a plan to get us off the island. Your parents won’t know until it’s too late. Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod vigorously. “I’ll marry you.”

You rip off the gaudy ring currently on your hand and JJ replaces it with the silver band. He kisses you so deeply you think you see stars.

“I love you, JJ Maybank,” you whisper when you part.

“I love you too, Y/N Y/L/N, so much.”

You could stay in that moment forever, but you both know you don’t have time to waste. JJ begins to pull you to a side exit, but you stop him. There’s one last thing you have to do before you leave.

You find a piece of paper, scribbling out a few quick words and titling to your father.

Have fun explaining to the Cameron’s that your daughter ran off with a pogue

Y/N Y/L/N

You set the folded paper on the center table, placing Rafe’s ring next to it.

“Ready to get off this island?”

You grab JJ’s hand. “God, yes.”

-

JJ was right, the two of you figured it out. You both found jobs on the mainland and created a happy life for yourselves. You and JJ got married a few months after you ran off and Mia came along a few years later.

You had kept in touch with the pogues of course and they let you know when your father and Ward Cameron’s businesses had come crashing down, forcing the two men off the island. They had no power anymore, so eight years later you decided to move back to your home. People had gossiped at first, but they moved on to the next big thing when they realized that neither you nor JJ cared what they had to say. You wanted to be in the place where you grew up and fell in love, and you wanted Mia to be surrounded by the friends that you called your family.

Mia was just about bouncing in her seat by the time you got home. You hurried to get her out of her carseat so she could rush inside and see her dad. Friday’s were always her favorite because JJ got off work early and was already home by the time you brought her back from school.

She pulled you along by the hand as she continued on about her fairytale. “The evil king disappeared and they lived happily ever after.”

JJ scooped Mia up as the two of you entered the house, making the little girl squeal in delight.

“Daddy!”

“Who lived happily ever after, Mia-mine?” She giggled as he burrowed his face in her little belly.

“The princess and the pogue!”

JJ’s eyes met yours over Mia, giving you an intrigued look.

“Kylie’s older sister told her a fairytale at lunch about a couple that used to live on the island.” You tell him with a knowing grin.

“A fairytale? That’s awesome, baby.” JJ lowers Mia back down to her feet. “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and Mommy and I will make you a snack.”

“Okay, Daddy!” The little girl runs off happily.

You make your way to the kitchen, JJ coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. “So the princess and the pogue, huh?” He smirks as you turn to face him.

“Who knew we’d become an OBX fairytale?” You reply.

“It makes sense. It doesn’t get much more ‘happily ever after’ than this. Right, princess?”

You give him a gentle kiss. “Right, pogue.”

-

Writing Masterlist

[half-bakedboy]

for the buck/tommy prompts — “you’re an idiot.” “yeah, but i’m *your* idiot.”

A few months into dating, Evan asks Tommy to a family dinner at Sergeant Grant and Captain Nash’s house. Tommy’s never been nervous when meeting a significant other’s family or friends, but he sure as Hell is terrified to meet Evan’s pseudo-parents. 

You know, the ones Tommy hijacked his own helicopter for because they saved an entire ship of people from being murdered by pirates, blown up, and drowned in the middle of the ocean where they’d probably never be found?

It didn’t matter that he had met them before. How is he supposed to feel normal about meeting two people like that? 

“I can practically hear you spiraling, and I feel like that’s supposed to be my job,” Evan interrupts his, well, spiraling. Tommy turns toward him from the driver’s seat with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I’m meeting your entire family together for the first time. How is this about you again?” Tommy asks. Evan must know he means well because there’s a soft smile on his face and he reaches out to grab Tommy’s hand. If he was a lesser man, they might have been shaking. He feels like he might start when Evan’s face turns more serious. 

“You know I haven’t had the best track record with women…” Evan begins.

Tommy can’t help but interrupt. “Good thing I’m not a woman…”

“Not a woman, I know,” Evan finishes the inside joke with him. He’s running his thumb in soft circles over the back of Tommy’s hand, spelling out words Tommy wishes he could decipher. “You’re different in more ways than that, though.” 

Tommy doesn’t speak even though Evan expects it if the long pause he allows says anything. 

“You might not be part of the 118 right now, but you’re as good as family. You’ve worked side-by-side with Hen and Chim, you were part of the first team that Cap led in L.A., and your friendship with Eddie has only grown since we got together.” Evan sighs. “I’ve always been terrified of not being enough so I’ve pushed people like you away. People who I respect, who I envy, who I wish I could be like so that they can’t replace me.” 

“No one can replace you, Evan,” Tommy inserts, even though he knows he doesn’t have to. Evan knows that, but Tommy will never stop reminding him. 

“No, they can’t,” Evan says confidently. Tommy squeezes his hand with pride. “But that makes this—us—all the more serious to me. You’re sticking around for as long as we’ll have each other, and probably after that.” Evan takes a deep breath and, with vulnerability bursting out of his blue eyes, says, “I guess, this is my way of saying that I want you in this family whether you’re with me or not.” 

Tommy practically melts at the words. It’s what he’s wanted since he first hopped in that helicopter, since before his friendship with Eddie or his relationship with Evan. He’s missed Hen and Howie, and he wants to laugh with their wives about stories from their pasts. He wants to get to know the first Captain he met who deserved to be in his position, and say thank you to the first cop to shake his hand when he finally—and accidentally—came out in a fit of frustration. 

Evan knows exactly how much the sentiment means to him, and to hear him say it out loud, makes emotion swell up in his throat. He knows it’s too soon to talk about forever, but he’s never felt something so close. 

“Plus, if they’re your family, too, they can’t be mad at me for not telling them I was bringing you because the invite was implied.” 

With the moment thoroughly broken, Evan jumps out of the car and runs around to open Tommy’s door. Tommy sighs as he exits, but reaches out to hold Evan’s hand anyways.

“You’re an idiot,” Tommy mutters with a shake of his head. 

There’s so much fondness in the words, that he might as well have said I love you. 

Evan’s grin barely falters, and he kisses Tommy’s cheek quickly but firmly. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” 

It’s not an I love you, too but one day, Tommy thinks it might be. 

[celestialprincesse]

police officer!Simon x detective!reader perhaps..? reader is higher ranked than him

I love love love this dynamic💕 @alwaysshallow writes Ghost and Higher ranked!reader perfectly too! I'd highly recommend reading their stuff on them!

The wind is nothing short of biting as you stand outside the forensics tent, pulling your coat tighter around your shoulders with a huff. Your watch reads 04:17AM, Thursday the 14th of November. Cold and tired. Homicides always come at the worst times. Sirens and blindingly bright blue and red lights only serve to worsen the migraine you can feel clawing up the back of your neck, trying to find purchase within the walls of your skull, already swimming with ugly ideas and images.

"-ed a perimeter." The gruff rumble of Simon 'Ghost' Riley's voice snaps you from your self pitying reverie, his eyes crinkling at the sides in a small, secret smile when you look up at him with bleary, confused eyes, envying the balaclava which covers his face from the nose down. "What?" A wince crinkles your stinging, cold face as your voice cracks like broken radio static. Simon's face softens at your obvious weariness. "You need to stop staying up so late." He chides you like a parent would a child, concern melting his brown eyes into molten brass. It's easy for him to forget that not everyone shares the same military background as him, that most can't go for days with only a few hours of sleep and stay sharp. "I was working on the Makarov case." You huff, running your hands down your face in an attempt to wipe away the lingering tiredness settled there. "I know it's eating at you, but you're no use to anyone when you can barely keep your eyes open." Simon's voice takes on that chastising tone that reminds you of his former military prowess - pre honourable discharge. The thought still makes you sad, fills your chest with warm, sticky pity, choking you up with a lump in your throat.

You stuff your hands into your pockets in a futile attempt to stave off the cold, rumbling out complaints and drawing instinctively closer to your colleague as he parts the crowd of forensic scientists and officers with his presence alone. The officer doesn't hesitate to lay his coat across your shoulders, forever looking out for you, if not just to see the way you relax under the warm weight of his jacket. "Can we go for breakfast after this?" A gentle smile flickers across Simon's face as you plead with him. The strength of your stomach never fails to surprise him, your ability to think about food in the middle of a crime scene eternally entertaining. Truly a person after his own heart. "Course we can."

You're not really sure why you're here, seeing as you only seem to get in the way of forensics gathering evidence as Simon walks you around the scene, detailing what the team knows so far about the crime, leaving you and your tired mind to decipher the rest. Unfortunately, with the lack of caffeine and bacon in your system, all you can do is nod dumbly and try to hide the way you keep yawning. Simon, as always, is ever present at your back, your side, letting you lean into him or mutter about how hungry you are under the pretence of talking about information relating to the crime. He's known you for long enough now to know that trying to get your brain firing at this time in the morning is futile. You work better at night.

Before Simon is given the opportunity to usher you away from the impending crushing of some poor kids' hopes and dreams, one of Graves' wide eyed, freakishly excited mentees is making a beeline your way - not that you notice when you've got your head in your hands and no will to live. The prepubescent sounding screech of their voice makes you wince, drilling a hole in your skull just big enough for the migraine to slip through. "You worked under Laswell right?" They chirp, far too energised for this obscene hour in the morning, and for someone play investigating the scene of a double homicide. "Yup." The dull, tired drone of your voice should be enough indication that you're not feeling talkative, and the look Simon angles them is unwavering enough to make a grown man weep. Not that they seem to notice. Or care. "Isn't this so cool? like a real life, actual homicide? Did you see the bodies? They were so gross."

Simon notices the way you bristle, shoulders at your ears. Despite your grumbling, you have the decency to respect the dead, something that Kate taught you long ago. "One of them had this like-" is enough to send you over the edge, shooting the kid a cruel look as you stand from where you'd been hunched in the back of the police van. "Enough." You growl, and Simon reaches out to place a grounding hand on the small of your back, trying his best to soothe your anger. "Don't be so fucking immature." The sound of your hiss is enough for the trainee to take a nervous step back. "Those are dead people. Those are dead people that were brutally murdered, in their beds at shit o'clock in the morning. Have some respect." You snap before pointing back at Graves with a furious blaze in your tired eyes. "Now go back to your shitty mentor and rifle through some bins."

"I'm impressed." Simon perks up from behind you, waiting with open arms for you to inevitably stumble into, emotionally and physically exhausted. "Breakfast?" You plead again into the plain fabric of his jumper. "Breakfast."

[gainercontent]

Room to Grow Part 2: The Wake-up Call

Elliot hadn’t seen Tom in over a year. They’d been close friends back in college, running together on the cross-country team and going to the gym every day. Tom had always been the fit one—the guy with a solid routine, a six-pack, and a protein shake in hand at all times. Elliot had respected it, even envied it sometimes, but after graduation, their paths had diverged. Elliot moved to the city for his new job and life, while Tom stayed back to start his own fitness consulting business.

But when Tom called last week, saying he was coming into town and wanted to catch up, Elliot was excited. It had been a while, and he knew it would be good to reconnect.

They decided on a small, trendy bistro in the city—a place with a health-conscious menu that catered to people like Tom: avocado toast, quinoa bowls, and smoothies with kale and spirulina. Elliot, despite his growing enjoyment of food and his expanded waistline, had agreed without hesitation. After all, he was still the same person, right? The same guy who had a solid foundation in healthy habits... just, well, a little more relaxed about it these days.

When Tom walked in, Elliot was already at the table, nervously checking his phone. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Tom’s company until he saw him. Tom was still in prime shape—muscular, lean, and glowing with that natural energy that only someone who consistently worked out seemed to possess. He wore a fitted T-shirt and designer jeans, a look that was all too familiar from their college days.

"Well, well, look who it is!" Tom grinned, sliding into the chair across from Elliot. “It’s been forever, man! You look... well, different.”

Elliot grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, a little bit of a change. Been busy, you know?”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Busy? Or *eating*? What’s up with that?” He gestured to the menu, a slight smirk on his face. “They don’t have a salad on here big enough for you anymore?”

Elliot chuckled nervously, trying to brush it off. "Nah, I’ve just been... living a little more. Trying new things. You know, enjoying life."

Tom squinted at him, clearly trying to figure out what Elliot was getting at. “You mean you’re eating like an actual *normal* person now, huh? Not so much of the ‘rabbit food’ anymore?”

Elliot felt a small knot form in his stomach. It wasn’t like Tom to be snarky, but there was something in his tone that made him uncomfortable. "I mean, I’ve been enjoying some bigger meals," Elliot admitted. "I’ve just... been eating more, that’s all. Been hanging out with my roommates, they love to cook."

Tom let out a light laugh, as if he’d just heard the punchline to a joke. “Oh, I get it now. You’ve got a couple of ‘foodies’ as roommates, huh? You know, dude, it’s cool to indulge every once in a while, but you’ve *got* to be careful. You don’t want to end up looking like those guys.”

Elliot’s smile faltered. He’d known Tom wasn’t the most tactful person when it came to body image, but hearing it from him stung more than he expected. Still, he tried to brush it off. “I’m not exactly packing on the pounds, Tom. Just... enjoying life a little more. It’s not a big deal.”

Tom tilted his head, inspecting Elliot more closely. “You sure about that? Because, man, you’ve got a little... softer around the edges, you know?” He chuckled. “I mean, last time I saw you, you were running marathons and eating protein bars for fun. What happened? Did you trade in the gym for a couch and some pizza?”

Elliot felt his face heat up. He wasn’t used to hearing those kinds of comments—especially not from Tom. Sure, they had always joked around in the past, but this felt different. There was an edge to it, and it left him feeling exposed. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more: Tom’s comments or the fact that they felt like they were *true*.

“Look, I haven’t exactly been training for a marathon, but I’m still active,” Elliot said, trying to defend himself. “I go for runs now and then. I’m not... I’m not just eating junk all the time.”

Tom raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying. I mean, you can eat whatever you want, but I thought you were better than this, man. You used to be *in shape*. Now you’ve got that ‘comfortable’ look. It’s fine, I guess, if you’re into it.”

Elliot wasn’t sure if he was more upset with Tom or with himself. He couldn’t ignore the tightness in his shirt, or the fact that his stomach wasn’t as flat as it used to be. And sure, maybe his eating habits had changed a little. But the idea that Tom was so quick to judge him for it made him feel small. Tom had always been the guy who had everything together, especially when it came to his body. To hear him poke fun at Elliot—his old friend—was like a punch to the gut.

Before he could respond, the waiter came over to take their orders. Tom, as expected, went for a grilled chicken salad with a side of quinoa, while Elliot, still flustered, ordered a hearty pasta dish. A few minutes later, their drinks arrived, and the conversation shifted back to the basics of their old college days. But the tension was there, just under the surface, and Elliot couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something had changed. He wasn’t the same guy anymore, and it wasn’t just about the way he looked.

“So, how’s work going?” Tom asked, taking a sip of his water. “You still doing that tech thing?”

Elliot nodded, grateful for the change in topic. “Yeah, it’s been good. Busy, but it’s exciting. I’m getting a lot of opportunities, so that’s been cool.”

“That’s awesome,” Tom said, leaning back. “But hey, just remember, man, if you ever want to get back in shape, you know who to call. I can help you get back on track. No shame in a little reboot.”

Elliot forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks, Tom. I appreciate it. But I’m good. Really.”

The rest of the dinner went by in a blur. Tom talked about his new clients, his latest workouts, and how he was trying to break into a more competitive fitness market. Elliot nodded along, though his mind kept drifting back to the words Tom had thrown his way. He didn’t know if he was more upset about the body-shaming or the fact that he couldn’t help but wonder if Tom was right. Was he just becoming “comfortable”? Was he letting himself go?

By the time dessert arrived—Tom, of course, ordering a fruit salad with yogurt and Elliot taking a small chocolate mousse—Elliot couldn’t shake the feeling of being in a weird limbo. He wasn’t sure if he was proud of his new, more relaxed approach to food and life, or if he should go back to his old habits—just to prove that he could.

But as they parted ways later, walking out of the bistro together, Elliot realized something important. 

The way Tom saw him wasn’t the way he saw himself anymore. Tom might be in perfect shape, but Elliot had something his old friend didn’t: balance. He’d stopped obsessing over every bite, stopped counting every calorie, and had started enjoying the present. Sure, it was a little messy. He was fuller, a little softer, but he was also more content, more confident in his own skin. 

Maybe Tom didn’t understand that. Maybe Tom would never understand. But that was okay.

As he walked back home, Elliot felt the familiar warmth of his roommates’ laughter spilling out of the apartment windows. They were waiting for him, as always, with a meal ready. And tonight, for the first time, he didn’t feel guilty about it. He was exactly where he needed to be.

The night with Tom lingered in Elliot's mind longer than he’d like to admit. During the walk home, he replayed the conversation over and over, Tom’s mocking comments echoing in his head like a persistent buzz. "You’ve got that ‘comfortable’ look," Tom had said, with that insufferable smirk on his face. It had stung more than he was willing to admit. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of body-shaming, especially not from someone who was once a close friend.

But as he walked through the door of the apartment, where the comforting sounds of Ryan and Mark laughing over dinner filled the air, he felt that familiar sense of calm return. It wasn’t about Tom or his judgment. It was about this—this life, this space he’d created with Ryan and Mark. They had welcomed him, no questions asked, no criticisms about how much he ate or what he looked like. 

He’d spent too much time obsessing over his body, too much time worrying about the way others saw him. He wasn’t going to let Tom’s words define him. He wasn’t going to let them ruin the progress he’d made—his freedom to enjoy food, to live without guilt. 

That night, Elliot made a silent promise to himself. He was going to embrace it. He wasn’t just going to go back to his old ways, trying to fit into someone else’s idea of what was "right" or "healthy." He was going to match Ryan and Mark bite for bite, savor every meal, and let go of any lingering insecurity. If this was his new life, he was going to dive in, unapologetically.

****New Chapter will be posted each Thursday****

[lestappenforever]

So, I’m like a realist, right? Sure, yes, I ship people from time to time but I know it’s just for funsies. So, I saw a lestappen edit last week and was like “hey cute guys, what’s up with these two? I better check it out.” and have fallen into a bit of a rabbit hole it seems. So I’m back in the real world now, where Max is in a long term relationship and Charles has a girlfriend, and am wondering: how does one explain Max’s behaviour? Does he just have a friend-crush on Charles? Has he always wanted to be friends with him since they were young and it was just hard since they’ve been rivals for so long? Does he envy him maybe since his father wasn’t a pos and he still turned into a great driver? Is it a “it’s lonely at the top” kind of situation, where he’s never been able to make many friends his own age? (I’ve seen Charles with a bunch of friends outside of racing, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Max with any, but that could be on me.) I mean, a blind person could see that Max takes every opportunity to talk to him or be close to him and he knows stuff about him I’d personally be too embarrassed to admit (like getting his “stupid” quote exactly right or knowing about the twitch thing with his girlfriend forgetting her keys, etc.). I guess I’m looking for the actual non-shippy explanation for this behaviour cause it fascinates me. What are your two cents on this?

Hi anon, and welcome to the world of Lestappen! We're happy to have you. ❤️

I will preface this by saying that shipping is solely for fun, and I don't actually believe Max and Charles are in a secret relationship or anything of the sort. The majority of Lestappen shippers on Tumblr are on the same page about this, with some exceptions, but there are exceptions to anything. And a big part of shipping is speculating, being delusional about them, and overanalyzing things.

Now, in terms of a non-shipping explanation as to why these two behave the way they do around each other, I think it's a combination of all the reasons you've already listed. And the thing about Max and Charles is that they have known each other for so many years. They have been in each other's orbit, in one way or another, for the majority of their lives, and there is no denying that they have seen each other as one of — if not the — biggest rival they've had since they were children. Despite the fact that a lot of the current drivers on the grid have raced each other at some point before F1, there doesn’t seem to be any of them that have the same sort of rivalry that Max and Charles have, which goes so far back. And that kind of bond is one that I believe sticks with you forever.

Now this is not a delusional take at all, as this quote by Armando Filini, manager of the Maranello Kart, the first team for which Leclerc raced, proves: “They were always fighting. It didn't matter if they were competing in a tie or in a final, if it was raining or if the track was dry. Once we were in Genk, Belgium, in the first free practice, and they went on track. Charles and Max met, began to push each other and almost hit each other, with the risk of being left out. Jos Verstappen and I were glued to the fence to look at them and he turned around and said to me: 'These two will fight forever. They will fight even in F1′. A prophecy”.

Even though Max and Charles obviously haven’t been best friends for the majority of the time they've known each other, and they've only started building what appears to be a genuine friendship in the last few years, they share a connection that has been evident to people around them since they were little.

Max's comment from last season where he said that he wasn't surprised both him and Charles were sitting in that press conference together because he always thought that if he made it into F1, Charles would too, is just another testament to how tied together they actually are. And Charles' fond recollections of their karting days in the past season shows that it's a mutual thing: that Charles feels that same bond with Max that Max feels with him. And I think this is the whole baseline for why they've never been able to be normal about or around each other: because they go so far back and their lives are so intertwined that I honestly don't think either of them is fully capable of treating the other as just any other colleague or friend, because they don't see each other that way. They're something more, and by that I don't mean they're secretly in love with each other — they just have this bond that goes beyond normal friendship, forged through years of rivalry, envy, conflict, mutual growth and respect, and eventual friendship.

I have a childhood friend sort of like that: obviously not with the rivalry and drama that comes with the surroundings in which Max and Charles met and grew up, but someone that I share a bond with that I don't share with any of my other friends, old or new, and it's honestly my most treasured friendship because it has helped shape me as a person in a profound sort of way. He's not my closest friend and not the friend I talk to the most since we live on different sides of the country and our paths haven’t crossed much in the past few years, as is often the case when you grow up and become an independent adult. But when I do talk to him and hang out with him, it kind of feels like coming home. And to me, it seems like Max and Charles share that same type of bond.

This is just my personal take as I obviously don't know Max or Charles, and this is all based off of watching their interactions and watching their relationship develop over the past few years, as well as deepdiving into their history in the past. But this is the explanation that makes sense to me.

[tisayemate]

Vaporised

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader (callsign Vapour)

Fluff

Summary: Vapour teaches Hangman to put his mouth where his money is.

AN: tomorrow’s my birthday!! (Yup, sharing the same birthday as Scarlett Johansson and Mark Ruffalo 🥹)

Story under the cut:

Hangman was in rare form that morning—if by "rare" you meant absolutely, maddeningly, always insufferable.

The squadron had barely settled into the briefing room when Jake "Hangman" Seresin made it his mission to antagonize everyone in his orbit.

"Rooster, you planning to keep that mustache after I wipe the floor with you today?" he quipped, leaning back in his chair. "Or is it aerodynamic enough to help you fly better?"

Rooster shot him a flat look. "Shouldn’t you be studying the rulebook, Seresin? I hear you keep forgetting what 'teamwork' means."

Jake laughed, loud and carefree. "What can I say? I don’t need teamwork when I’ve got skill. I’m just built different."

"Built irritating," Phoenix muttered under her breath, earning a smirk from Bob.

In the corner of the room, you—call sign Vapour—remained silent, arms crossed, and gaze steady on the whiteboard. You had no intention of getting involved in Jake’s antics. He’d teased you enough in the past, despite the fact you barely spoke to him.

“Awfully quiet over there, Vapour,” Jake called out, turning his attention to you. “What’s the matter? Saving all your words for your post-match excuses?”

You didn’t even glance at him. “I, unlike some, don’t waste words,” came your reply.

That earned a round of "oohs" from the others, and even Hangman seemed momentarily caught off guard before recovering with a grin. “We’ll see if your flying’s as sharp as your tongue.”

The reason you were called Vapour wasn’t a mystery to anyone. During a training exercise, you’d pulled off a miracle landing with barely a drop of fuel left, earning you the respect of the instructors and the envy of a certain cocky aviator. Jake had never stopped trying to one-up you since.

Today’s dogfight simulation would be the perfect battleground.

Up in the air, Hangman’s taunts were relentless.

“Vapour, you sure you’re up there? Haven’t seen you all game,” he teased over the comms. “Or maybe that’s just your style—light and forgettable.”

Phoenix groaned. “Do you ever shut up, Seresin?”

“I’m just providing commentary,” he replied. “Gotta make things interesting while I mop the floor with you.”

You stayed quiet, focusing on your maneuvers. You weren’t interested in banter—you had one goal: take Hangman down.

Jake was good. Annoyingly good. But he was also predictable. He liked flashy moves and big risks, and you had no problem using that against him. You let him chase you for a while, luring him into a false sense of control.

“Gotcha now, Vapour,” he said smugly, locking onto your tail.

“Do you?” you replied, your voice finally cutting through the comms.

With a sharp roll and a sudden cutback, you slipped out of his sights and got behind him instead. Jake’s curses filled the channel as you locked on and fired the simulated kill shot.

“Hangman, you’re tagged,” Maverick announced.

Silence.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Jake Seresin had nothing to say.

“Vapour!,” Rooster cheered. “Finally someone shut him up!”

You smirked, leveling your jet and heading back to base. 

Back on the ground, Jake’s usual swagger was noticeably absent as the team debriefed. Rooster, Phoenix, and the others took turns mocking him, clearly reveling in his defeat.

Jake made a beeline for you afterward, his expression unreadable.

“Vapour,” he said, folding his arms. “You got lucky.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Luck? Or maybe you’re just all talk.”

For once, he didn’t have a comeback. He just stood there, staring at you like he was trying to figure you out.

Before he could say anything else, you gave him a pat on the shoulder. “You know Hangman’s actually the perfect name for someone who just got left swinging in the wind.”

And with that, you walked off, leaving him standing there—thoroughly humbled.

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | January 1st-7th 2024

First rec of 2024! Happy New Year everyone! I hope it's a good one!

(damn, can you tell I was off from work? this rec is long af 😅 I know it's a bit late but once I got done I just wanted to yeet it off my drafts asap)

Complete

🔥 All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.

i'm down on my knees (i wanna take you there) by burnthatbridge/ @burnthatbridge (PWP, Glory Hole | 5K | Explicit): Buck is… a little drunk. So, he honestly thinks, when he first spots it, after stumbling into the stall, clumsily undoing his fly, and taking a very needed leak, that he’s seeing things. It takes him reaching out — with a hand he was already going to wash and probably should doubly do so now — and sticking a finger through it to convince him that the sight hasn’t been fabricated by his inebriated brain. It’s real. It’s a glory hole. His first thought is, huh; his second is, I have got to show Eddie.

making love to the flashes by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (PWP, Hot Firefighter Calendar | 11K | Explicit): When Buck had told them all the Hot Days, Smoldering Nights, Men of the LAFD Wall Calendar had selected him to represent the 118 for the month of July, Eddie hadn’t thought much of it. He’d congratulated him with a clap on the shoulder, laughed along with Hen, Chim, and Bobby’s good-natured teasing, and that had been that. Well, Eddie certainly isn’t laughing now.

with a bird at your door by @sibylsleaves (S6, Getting Together | 3K | General): Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him.

we're gonna need some land between our bodies by @sibylsleaves (Post-Poker Date | 9K | Explicit): or, Buck and Eddie can't fuck yet (four times Buck and Eddie try to define the relationship and the one time they do)

my heart's a secret (tell me you'll keep it) by @sibylsleaves (Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Or, Buck tells Chimney a secret. This proves to be a mistake.

the winner takes it all (the loser has to fall) by @burnthatbridge (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Buck and Lucy compete to see who's the better kisser. Eddie somehow finds himself the judge. (Part 1 of winner takes all)

the winner takes all (of me) by @burnthatbridge (PWP, Buck/Eddie/Lucy | 4K | Explicit): An alternative ending to Buck and Lucy's kissing competition. (Part 2 of winner takes all)

Calling (So You'll Answer) by Princessfbi / @princessfbi (Angst, Hurt Buck | 29K | Mature | Warning: Rape/Non-Con): “Buck? Did you drunk dial me?” Eddie did not envy Buck’s headache in the morning. He fought back the urge to smile at the thought of Buck, hungover and pouting with his curls in wild form on his head and his hands twisting and knotting in his favorite hoodie for the comfort the texture brought him. “Can you come take me h-home?” Buck asked, his voice sounding so painfully young. “I don’t …feel good.”

Smoke and Ashes Brushed Off with Ink by @princessfbi (Tattoo Artist Eddie AU | 18K | Mature): Tattoo Artist!Eddie Diaz AU inspired by the tumblr thread about praise kink discovery when getting a tattoo.

i'll lie awake for you by diazbegins/ @evanbegins (Married Buddie, PWP | 8K | Explicit): Or: Buck and Eddie, newly-weds, spend their well-deserved time alone.

I'd Wait Here Forever by @princessfbi (Angst, Stalker | 21K | Mature | Warning: Rape/Non-Con): “Come on. You and me could—” Buck caught Chimney moving to intervene between them but the words were already falling past Buck’s lips before he even realized he was speaking. “I have a boyfriend.” Buck stopped when he registered the words. So, did Chimney before he shot Buck a look over his shoulder like Buck had grown a second head. Probably because, like Buck, Chimney knew that Buck did not have a boyfriend. In fact, he’d been single for a painfully long time since he and Taylor split up. Single and probably very obviously hung up on his best friend who didn’t seem to notice the way Buck would throw himself into oncoming traffic if Eddie asked.

Tear Me to Pieces; Skin to Bone by @princessfbi (Undercover Mission, kidnapping | 22K | Teen | Warning: Violence): Bobby wasn’t comfortable with the LAPD wanting to use Buck as bait. Because that’s exactly what Buck would be: bait. Or: The LAPD want to borrow Buck for an undercover mission to hunt down a serial killer. No one is thrilled.

pink and black and blue by devirnis/ @devirnis (Getting Together | 1,5K | Teen): “Hey!” Buck calls. Eddie spares himself a moment to briefly entertain the idea of fleeing out the back, but knows it would ultimately be pointless. His truck is in the driveway so Buck knows he’s home, and they’re on shift together in two days and there’s no way his bruises will be gone by then, no matter how much he ices them. “In the kitchen,” Eddie answers resignedly. (Bad Things Happen Bingo: Black Eye)

on sleep and unspoken things by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Post-S4 | 2K | Not Rated): “You reached out for me. On that day. You tried to touch me.” The words sink into the silence between them. He did, didn't he? Eddie doesn't remember much from the shooting—only pain, and fear, and screaming (his own and so many others), and the vague echo of Buck’s voice—but he remembers that.

in red blue green by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Documentary | 11K | Teen): The commissioner signs off on a workplace documentary set in the 118 to better community attitudes towards the fire department. Unfortunately, whatever is going on between Firefighters Buckley and Diaz is a much more interesting story.

with blood in my nose by @henswilsons (Canon Divergent, S4E14: Survivors | 9K | Teen): or, Buck is the one who gets shot instead of Eddie.

let me know you (bedhead and morning breath) by @burnthatbridge (Post-Lightning | 6K | Explicit): Buck hasn't gotten off since the lightning strike. Eddie watches him do something about it.

sometimes an onion really is just an onion (and that’s all there is to it) by snarkymuch / @snarkythewoecrow (Post-Grocery Store Argument | 5K | Teen): Buck wanted fajitas, so he went to the store for the sweet onions he needed, but he got the wrong kind because he unexpectedly ran into the team, which had nothing to do with why he was crying in his kitchen--obviously, the shitty onions were to blame. And his day just gets worse from there--as he ends up fileting off a strip of skin, bleeding everywhere, then accidentally hitting his talk-to-text and sending a ramble he never meant anyone to hear to the last person on earth to care: Eddie.

i find you in everything (but its here you find yourself) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck takes another sig of beer, "she left." "Sorry, man, I know you liked her. Guess where most people are scared of death, a death doula is scared of life." "Wow, that's actually pretty poignant," Buck says. "Didn't know you had it in you." Eddie just rolls his eyes. "Its weird, though, her being scared off by a donor baby." Eddie frowns over at him. "Chris didn't freak her out?"

Paper Rings by buckleyblueyes (orphan_account) (Canon Divergent, S4 | 6K | Teen): Maddie went quiet for a moment, looking at him not with pity, but instead with empathy, and shared sadness. “So. What did you find, then?” “An engagement ring.” The words weighed heavy on his tongue. “He’s going to propose to Ana.” 

Burn a bridge, learn how to swim by WatermelonShots (AvocadosUnderTheEaves) / @applesorcery (Getting Together | 13K | Mature): In which there is some unexpected making out, some pining, one third of an existential crisis and a lot of unhelpful advice. Not necessarily in that order. (Part 1 of Burn a bridge, learn how to swim)

Can't cross the sea just standing there by WatermelonShots (AvocadosUnderTheEaves)/ @applesorcery (Established Buddie, PWP | 7K | Explicit): In which there are sleepovers and snakes and some jealousy. (But probably not the kind you think.) (Part 2 of Burn a bridge, learn how to swim)

tell me how it feels (say it ain't so) by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do)1 @lover-of-mine (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Eddie hears Natalia saying Buck's death was cool and things spiral out of control from there.

Arm Candy by @princessfbi (Poker Date spec | 8K | General): “Act cool.” Buck shivered at the rumble of Eddie’s voice. “I think I got us in on the game.” Act cool? Act cool! How was Buck was supposed to act cool when he had Eddie dressed like sin parading Buck around like— Buck choked on his tongue as he finally realized what Eddie was doing and why apparently everyone had been so blasé about Buck going undercover after treating him like he was made of glass for weeks. “Am I the arm candy?” Eddie was damningly silent.

empty, broken, lonely, hoping by DaniWib/ @daniwib (Post-S6, Presumed Dead | 44K | Mature): Eddie's world crumbles when Buck’s apartment building becomes engulfed in a cataclysmic seven-alarm fire, resulting in a devastating mass casualty event. Amidst the chaos, Eddie and the rest of the 118 grapple with the heart-wrenching belief that both Buck and Christopher have met a tragic fate within the merciless inferno.

i lit the match, the firemen can do the rest by honestlydarkprincess / @honestlydarkprincess (Post-S6, PWP | 6K | Explicit): Or, the one where Eddie is pining and decides to drive over to Buck's. He doesn't expect to walk in on friends-with-benefits Buck and Natalia and he definitely doesn't expect the night to end with him getting everything he's ever wanted with Buck.

The Comfort of Your Hands by Spotsandsocks/ @spotsandsocks (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck accidentally starts running his fingers through Eddie’s hair. Eddie lets him and things slowly move towards something special.

unfold me (tell me you love me) by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (S4, Love confession | 2K | Teen): Eddie goes on a date and has some realizations about what he really wants

the measuring contest by ColorMeParanoid/ @color-me-paranoid (9-1-1 LS S2E3: Hold the Line | 2K | Teen): Hen snorted from her own cot. “Trust me, guys. This isn’t the kind of measuring contest you want to play with Buck because you will lose.” But, comparing scars and exchanging crazy stories when meeting other people in your profession was basically a rite of passage so of course they didn’t take her warning seriously. It became a challenge instead and Eddie settled in for the show.

live while we're young by ashavahishta / @ashavahishta (De-Aging | 5K | General): Or: Some wonky magic leaves the firefam to take care of a tiny Buck for a few days. He's really, unfairly cute.

Radio Silence by madamewriterofwrongs/ @madamewriterofwrongs (Hurt Buck | 9K | Mature): Bobby was going to have a long talk with him about his self-sacrificing habits. For now, he kept his words calm and authoritative; for both their sakes. “None of that, you just hold still. Are you injured?” There was silence. Around him, the paramedics and firefighters of the 118 waited with bated breath. “Pretty bad.” There was little humor in his voice, though they could hear him trying. “My head. And uh, hahaha,” his laughter came as a gust of air. “I’ve been impaled?”

Buck Is My Warrior by elisela/ @elisela (Fluff | 5K | General): “We’ll be filming a special edition of American Ninja Warrior,” Troy announces after the introduction to the current contestant ends, “focused on our brave first responders. Go to our website to find out more details and how to submit your videos.” Oh. “Buddy,” Eddie says, “I don’t really know if that’s my thing.” Christopher looks at him, then says, “I want to nominate Buck.”

The Badass Background of one Evan Buckley series by Onlymystory / @theallandthemoreofit (Navy SEAL Buck | 5 works | 32K | Complete):

A Six Minute Man (Hostage | 3K | Teen): Or the one where Buck's secret background as a Navy SEAL comes in really handy in a hostage situation. Buck Begins (Backstory | 1K | Mature): When Evan Buckley Spencer is five years old, he wants to be a firefighter. They save people he says. He’s going to be one someday. One of the Good Guys (Revenge | 3K | Mature): Eddie says “You find every single person that hurt our son and you burn them to the ground.” - The Moscow Rules are simple. “Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. The third time is enemy action."

With A Little Help From My Friends by @extasiswings (PTA Eddie | 3K | Teen): Eddie makes friends outside of work and realizes that Buck might not, in fact, be just a friend

(Not) Under the Mistletoe by Tizniz / @tizniz (Christmas | 2K | Not Rated): Buck is definitely not avoiding Eddie at the Christmas party where mistletoe is everywhere.

Flash Forward by @daniwib (Different First Meeting | 3K | Explicit): The last thing Eddie remembered was pressing the tiny, blood smeared photograph of Christopher to his trembling lips while huddled behind rocks, hiding from the insurgent's attack. The next thing he knew was when he woke up, naked, with a muscular body on top of him. OR: Eddie has a flash forward when he gets shot during his last tour.

WIP

and we are homeward bound by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (established Buddie | 1/3 | 3K | Explicit): "Okay," Buck says finally, muffled. He rubs his face against Eddie's shirt again. "You promise you're not going to dump me if he smashes a salad bowl over this?" "I promise I will not dump you if our kid has a tantrum about us finally getting our act together," Eddie recites solemnly. Buck laughs against his shoulder and finally pulls back. Or: Buck and Eddie get around to telling the people they love that they're together. (sequel to Something Dumb to Do)

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 21/? | 14K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

Chapter 21. 10. Surprise kisses, in which your lover wasn't prepared but responds immediately

🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 10/? | 25K | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

and if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Canon Divergent Season 6, Friends with Benefits | 2/18 | 9K | Explicit): or, an alternate look at season 6 where buck and eddie have been casually sleeping together since before the beginning of the season. somehow, this changes both everything and nothing at all.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 104/? | 283K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Re-Read

🔥 the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by theleftboobgrabber (Post S3E15 | 49K | Explicit): When the squad bets on how long it will take for Buck and Abby to get back together when she comes back to LA, Eddie is forced to reconsider keeping his feelings for Buck a secret.

🔥 come out to the sea, my love by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Canon Divergent - Tsunami | 8K | Teen): Tsunami au in which the 118 find out about Buck and Chris being stranded on top of the ladder truck and come to rescue them before they get separated.

🔥 Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart by Taste_is_Sweet (Sentinels AU, Tsunami | 82K | Teen): Clara Williams just wanted to visit Pacific Park during her layover in Los Angeles. She never expected to find a young, exceptional Sentinel dying for lack of a bond. Actually, what she really never expected was a tsunami, or the same Sentinel to save her life. But Clara's a Guide, so now she's on a mission to keep Evan "Buck" Buckley alive until she can get him to Eddie Diaz, the Guide who should have bonded with him, but didn't. Because Clara can't bond with Buck, no matter how much she wants to. There's just one problem: Buck's convinced Eddie doesn't want him, and he might not survive long enough to find out the truth.

i (for)get you by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Temporary Amnesia | 6K | General): buck hits his head, forgets the past month and suddenly eddie has a secret girlfriend... right?

you're my whole house by hammersmiths / @henswilsons (Getting Together, PTA Eddie | 12K | Teen): Eddie shrugs. “Christopher mentioned to Daniel that Buck and I are partners. I mean, sure, it’s a little weird that she invited him over as well, but—” “Partners,” Hen interrupts, “like work partners?” Eddie and Buck glance at each other. “Uh, yeah?” Eddie says. “What other type of partner?” Hen stares at them for a moment, before she bursts out laughing. “You dumbasses. She thinks you’re together.” or, Eddie joins the PTA.

I can't love you any more (than I do now) by wikiangela/ @wikiangela (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 2K | General): Eddie's pretty sure he and Buck are dating and kind of living together. Neither acknowledges it, until Eddie finally does.

Tell me where you wanna go by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Post-S6E11: In A Flash | 4K | Teen): Buck wakes up from his coma and Eddie offers him a passenger seat and a couch and a home.

🔥 Autocowrecked by HMSLusitania/ @hmslusitania (Miscommunication | 2K | Teen): Eddie is never, ever using the talk-to-text function on his phone. Ever again.

[bellzsq]

“5 more minutes”

Y/n wakes Pablo before he has his first training back with his team.

Warnings: none.

Y/ns pov

“Baby, time to wake up.” I said as I opened the curtains to our bedroom.

“Amor… no..” Pablo groaned as he covered his eyes.

“Yes. It’s your first day back.” I pulled the sheets off of him.

“5 more minutes” Pablo pulled the sheets back making me loose my grip.

“You take forever to get ready, plus I’m driving you and I need to go to the market for groceries.” I told him.

“Great so we both really have no where to be in a rush,” he smiles at me sarcastically as he sat up.

“Get dressed.” I rolled my eyes before making my way to our bathroom to brush my teeth.

“I made you breakfast, it’s on the counter and your protein shake is already made so I suggest you hurry up before it gets runny and you don’t drink it.” I said.

He groaned loudly before pulling his body up from our king size bed.

“What’s even for breakfast?” He yawned.

“Pancakes..”

“Junk ones or the protein banana ones?” He put his white plain shirt on.

“What do you think?” I shot him a quick glare before putting my toothbrush in my mouth.

He put his arms up in surrender. “Just making sure,” he smiled before he made his way downstairs.

After I was done brushing my teeth I went into our closet and picked out a simple alo yoga outfit.

It was just a simple black pair of leggings and a navy blue alo sporty bra.

I put random Nike socks on with my black Nike tennis shoes.

I went back to our bathroom and used a little bit of gel and put my black/brown/blonde (whatever color your hair is) hair in a slick back bun.

Pablo came back into our room and changed into a pair of Nike sport black shorts and his black Nike long sleeve with Nike air maxes.

He brushed his teeth as I got my purse and my phone off the charger.

Once we were both ready and downstairs I got the car keys to my white Mercedes and I got in the drivers seat and he was in the passenger.

“Don’t go too slow, you know how much I hate it when you make me late.” Pablo had a bit of attitude.

“What’s your problem?” I looked left then right to see if cars were coming then I turned right.

“The pancakes were burnt on the bottom!” He raised his voice a little.

“Are you serious?! Pablo it’s a pancake. There’s nothing special. And you had a protein shake you will be fine.” I rolled my eyes at his sass.

“Whatever. You just never wanna admit that you messed up,” he opened his phone.

“I do admit. Here! ‘I burnt the bottom of your pancake because I was finishing a text to my mom. Sorry.” I stopped at the red light.

“My phone didn’t even charge last night,” he put his phone on the charger in the middle under the radio.

“Are you excited for your first day back?” I said with a small question in attempt to clear the tension.

“Yeah, pedri said that everyone is really excited to see me and help me recover.” He looked out his window.

“That’s good, they wanna help you through your hard time…” I turned left into camp Nou.

“Okay, have a good time shopping. Don’t forget the chocolate protein powder and bananas.” He grabbed his bag and his phone.

“I never do… have a good training.” I said before he shut his door.

After me and Pablo had arguments, even slight disagreements we never say I love you for a couple hours.

But it’s a normal thing for us. It’s not out of hate or envy. It’s just how we both are.

I watched him get into the training ground building where the boys change before staring training.

I pulled out and seen taia, raphinhas wife was behind me and she did 2 honks to say hi.

I drove to the market 20 minutes away then grabbed my purse and phone and locked the door.

As I strolled through the isles I made sure im everything I was getting was low calorie and had atleast some protein and fiber. If not Pablo would have a fit.

After I was done shopping there I seen a new flower boutique so I dropped off all the groceries in the trunk then went in.

They were all beautiful and my eyes landed on beautiful red roses.

Red was Pablo’s favorite color, plus they represent love so I got them and bought them to the checkout.

The woman checking out the flowers was a beautiful middle eastern woman.

“Today your total will be $92.68. But would you like a costume note?” She asks me.

“Yeah that would be great,” I smiled kindly at her.

“It would be another 10 dollars if you still wanna do it.” She says as she took the small papers out.

“Of yeah go ahead I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, what would you like the note to say?”

“Happy first day back”

“Okay…” she wrote the note in beautiful hand writing and I signed my name at the bottom in sharpie.

I handed her my card and as it was processing I spoke up.

“So is this a new boutique? I feel like I’ve never been in here before..”

“Yeah we just opened this weekend. We haven’t had many customers yet and I feel like the price isn’t helping much. But we need money to pay rent to this place.”

“Yeah I understand. In my perspective this is a very nice place you have.” I said as she handed my card back and the bouquet.

“Thank you very much. Have a great day miss,” she smiled.

I smiled back kindly then left the store back to my car.

It was about time to go get Pablo. He was leaving training early because Xavi didn’t want him being too active his first day back.

Once he got in the car I reached behind his seat and handed him the flowers.

“What’s this…” he held them in his hand observing the flowers.

“Amor.. you didn’t have to..” he read the note getting a little teary eye.

I don’t blame him. It was his first day back being with his people, he was probably overwhelmed.

“I had to.. I’m so proud of you pabs..” I kiss his pink lips softly.

“I love you..” he smiles at me softly with a sparkle in his eye from the tears..

“I love you so so much hermoso..” I rub his cheek softly.

I started driving again.

“How was training? Was it worth the wait?” I ask him.

“It was great. Nothing changed between any of us. It was like the good days..”

“Good I’m happy it’s going well.”

Sorry guys I know that was maybe a bit boring but yeah that’s all I have for today.

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

I love how all the winner of the life series could essentially be the main character of their own story.

AND I'M HERE TO EXPLAIN IT TOO YOU!

Grian, the obvious, the original, there in the series because of him they're going through death games because of him and he's the only one who remembers the first one and is the only one who remembers the initial reason why they're there.

He was not doomed by the narrative. He doomed everyone else in the narrative and he asked to watch them die over and over again it's his fault he is the Doom in the narrative.

He's like a psychopathic main character trying to make everything right but it's not working out

Scott, because if Grian isn't the main character then it's Scott.

He figured out what Grian what Grian was BEFORE THE OTHER EVO MEMBER DID-

He knew that something was fucked up and he went against the Boogeyman causing him to move down a placement every other game. To be infected with coral diseases, and give his soul mate intentionally mental harm so that they'd hurt themselves to spite him.

He does everything for his friends, even if they don't remember. He does what he can for his husband, even as he watches him fall for a man other then him everytime.

He's making SACRIFICES for Grian mistakes, making sure that the next winners dont wake up in a cruel soulless void like he did.

Pearl, waking up after winning only to find out that the man she'd been made to hate so much actually let her win, and let her know the truth, and it's her own BROTHER'S FAULT/BESTIES FAULT THAT SHE HAD TO ENDURE ALL THAT.

She's now left with thought of what happened after Evo, how she hated someone that care so deeply for her safety that he literally committed suicide, and how her brother/bestie betrayed her.

Martyn, has been dealing with the voices inside his head for ages now. It is recognised by the previous winners so Scott teams with him to set him free.

He is now left, the winner of a game that he never wanted to play, a broken man. What happened to Ren? What happened to Evo? WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'M A LISTENER?!

It's Grian's fault that he has to deal with the voices in his head? Scott a man who cared for him so much he betrayed in an instant because of the voices he couldn't control? He'd Crawley thrown pearls to the side when it was clear she needed him most?

He has to now look Jimmy in the eyes, knowing what they are and who they used to be and continually failing to protect him, only spurred on by the fact that Scott never gave up on Jimmy too so why should he?

Scar, being the initial Collateral Damage to Grian's doings, once he wins he'll have to grapple with the fact and face his new reality. Like an ordinary man being hit with 10 to 15 trains.

He sacrificed himself in the first game for what he thought was his forever partner, his soul mate, only to be cheated on 2 games later? He was isolated and seen as a liability. You'd have to look pearl in the eyes and recognize their past actions of both torturing themselves and another.

The only man who had faith in him was Scott, allowing him to win that game but at what cost? Did he really have to know?

He's tired of not understanding... And the watchers will use his envy, hatred and raw confusion to there advantage, Grian's foil.

Cleo, seen as the underdog yet brash ally, she clawed her way to victory easily, within a day even.

She's immune to the Watchers effects, as you can see how the other winners were left poisoned.

Her friend Grian, the reason why she's here.

Scott, someone who tried to save her, by giving her knowledge.

Pearl, an evil to ally. An unwary friend.

Martyn, her soul mate and by technicality ex, driven into madness.

Scar, He's Scared he's anxious and he knows just as much as she does. He feels useless because others have treated him as such. Her own son, plagued with self-deprecating thoughts.

And the watchers taunt, as she has to put the piece back together of what they've broken. So that they can overcome and win.

[poppadom0912]

Together (Epilogue)

Warnings: Mentions of hospitals, injuries, kidnappings and death

Summary: Life moves on whether or not you want it to.

A/N: This is it my lovelies! It's lowkey been two months since I first released my baby into the world and you've received her with nothing but love. Thank you so much for all the support you've shown, it truly makes me want to write more and better.

I hope you enjoy the final part of this series. This has been so much fun and quite a wild ride. Lots of emotions, I won't lie, some parts really got deep but when you read this, it'll all be worth it. 🤍🙃

Did I lie about the fluff? ... I'm so sorry, I just couldn't resist😭

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist

Black was not your favourite colour.

Some said it nicely complimented your red hair and you kind've looked badass but you couldn't see it. Besides the fact that it was slimming when you wore it, you tried to avoid the colour as much as possible. You much preferred the dark navy and greys instead.

That's why you hated wearing your dress uniform, even if it was for a joyous occasion.

Fixing the black suit, you sighed. According to your lawyer, showing up in uniform created more empathy and so not only were you wearing your uniform, but Jay too.

And Will… Well that was another conversation.

It had been two months since the kidnapping and things were, things were definitely different.

Due to circumstances, the trial had been pushed back a little. Well, their sentencing had, the trial went off without a hitch and all of Intelligence could attest to that but today was the day everyone found how for how long exactly they were going to be jailed.

Everyone had been bitter and rightly so.

Stepping back from the car door, you finished fixing your hair in the car window, happy that no baby hairs were sticking out and the gel was doing its job. You were asked for professional and so a bun seemed fitting.

Going around the car, Kelly joined you by your side but dressed casually. He wasn’t directly involved and your lawyer didn’t make a specific request. According to her, things could go sideways and things needed to look good on your side.

You envied the lack of black your boyfriend was wearing. And what annoyed you even more was the Jay’s uniform was more of a dark blue.

Jay fully healed over the past two months, no injuries for the naked eye to see but the scar was still there on his thigh, the trauma burned into his mind forever after. Similar could be said for you but while Jay was back on duty, you were still taking it slow and doing admin work at the firehouse after being a bored mess at home alone.

Therapy wasn’t much help. Your psychologist wasn’t the problem, in fact she was a darling, but not all things could be fixed. You eventually came to terms with the fact that this would never leave you. As a team, you’d have to turn a new page and keep on going, with the hopes that it became a distant memory no one had to recollect.

“Y/N.”

You could never get tired of hearing his voice, the tranquillity it brought you needed to be studied. His loving face sent you a soft smile, his eyes scrunching up in attempt to keep you calm and collected.

“Jay messaged me, they’re waiting inside.”

With a sigh, you interlocked hands and let Kelly lead the way inside the courthouse. Anxiety weighed down on you heavily, making it feel like you were walking through a sentient sludge that kept trying to pull you down.

A smile graced your lips but at the sight of your older brother in his dress blues, his entire crew by his side, your smile faltered. As soon as it began wobbling, your eyes burned as everything started to go blurry.

Your chest hurt too much, it suddenly felt like you were having a heart attack in the middle of the courthouse.

“Oh Y/N.” Jay sighed, enveloping you in his arms not a moment later. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry.” You croaked out, huffing into the crook of his neck, being mindful not to mess up his uniform. “Gosh, I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

“Stop that, don’t apologise.” Jay chided, tutting alike to how Will would whenever you two got into trouble. Whenever Will did that, you knew his annoyance wouldn’t last long, he loved you and Jay too much to hold a grudge.

Shit, now your tears were rolling down your flushed cheeks and making small marks on Jay’s shoulder.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

Jay didn’t say anything for a long time. You were almost scared he wouldn’t answer you like last time. The more time past, the more you knew he wasn’t going to say anything and the same exact scene from two months ago flashed before your eyes, almost sending you into a fit of gut-wrenching tears. But Jay proved you wrong.

“I don’t know what to think anymore Y/N.”

*****

Maggie sighed, shoulders deflating as she sat on the hospital bed. It had been a long day.

Whenever she wanted a break from the ED, she usually found one of the rooms in the ICU where the patient was usually either unconscious or in a coma. The peace and quiet provided her the time and space to get back into tune with her thoughts before going back to being the charge nurse of the bustling emergency department.

Looking at this patient, she didn’t need to look at the chart to know what happened, she’d been in this particular room every single day since their arrival. This patient had a certain pull that made her want to know everything about their condition.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Sharon said, her voice calming as she entered the room, closing the door behind her. “Everyone was waiting downstairs, you missed it.”

“I know.” Maggie replied solemnly, her hands readjusting the blanket around the coma patient. “But they did it, right?”

“They did it.” Sharon confirmed as she moved to stand on the other side of the bed. It was great news, news that should’ve resulted in tears of joy but the charge nurse barely moved an inch.

“Life without parole.” There was a pause, beeping and the whooshing of machines filling the silence. “They weren’t going to settle for anything less.”

“Good.” Maggie replied, her lips pulled tightly together.

Neither of them said anything afterwards. There was still so much that needed to be discussed but the right people weren’t in the room currently. The one big question loomed heavily over them like a stormy cloud just waiting for the right moment to start raining.

“Take a break Maggie. Eat a little something before you join the rest of them.”

Without waiting for a reply, Sharon turned and left the room, mumbling she had a meeting in a few minutes when in reality, she hated being in this room as much as the next person.

Maggie stewed in her thoughts, too many flying all around the place for her to properly take a break.

“Still no change?”

Maggie’s silence was more than enough of an answer. She truly hated her job sometimes, especially when she had to break the news to waiting family members.

“No movement since you left last night.”

Jay’s eyes still filled with tears every time he was given news.

“Are we- Do you think we’re doing the right thing Maggie?” Jay tumbled over his words from where he stood in the doorway, too scared to enter the room. The sadness laced in his words made him sound so innocent and childlike, Maggie just wanted to hide and protect all three Halstead’s from the horrors of the world.

But looking at the coma patient on the bed, Maggie knew her words were biased.

*****

One week later

You were going crazy. You didn’t know how much longer you could handle this. You hated playing the waiting game.

It was in the middle of shift when you got the call. You were finally back to full time firefighting, Crocket deeming you fit and healthy two days ago to work again. The happiness that followed his news only lasted so long.

Your emotions were haywire. When you entered the ED for what felt like the billionth time, you felt your heart physically stop at the sight of a red eyed Maggie. From beside you, Jay was scarily silent, not breathing for a good minute.

But then she smiled, dimples and all.

Connor was supposed to tell you but he was rushed into an emergency surgery and entrusted the charge nurse to tell the two most important people in Will’s life the news.

“Will’s going to make a full recovery. There’s going to be quite a bit of rehab and physical therapy but he’s going to be just fine.”

And for the first time since their initial reunion in the warehouse just over two months ago, all three Halstead siblings would be together again.

It was going to be a long and difficult path to recovery. You and Jay had your own struggles and having Will in a coma only made it harder. But now, Will had the love and support of his baby brother and baby sister, the two people he did all of this for.

And yes, maybe Jay would reem his for being a stupid bastard, protecting them from literal criminals with his life. Obviously, you would chime in when necessary but the big goofy smile on your face did nothing.

All was well now. The future was looking bright for the most of it, guaranteed it be a bit rocky in the next coming weeks that would consist of a gruelling recovery process but at the end of the tunnel, you were all coming out stronger than ever.

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale @iamasimpingh0e @lanea-1 @swidkid @jamie0515