#the chances of them working out as a couple once reality sets in seems... not high? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ja3yun · 8 months ago

Text

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.7

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, spitting, dirty talk, praise kink, petnames (good girl, baby), anything else lmk. ch. 7 synopsis: minhee comes to you with the missing pieces of information you need, leading you to find the courage to speak to sunghoon, hoping you can reconcile. wc: 14.9k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! this chapter is filled with plot and answers to questions so i am hoping it all makes sense. again, thank you for the love on the last chapter! next week is the penultimate chapter so everything is starting to tie up so please enjoy <3

Scanning the next customer's shop, your shoulders are heavy with sadness. It’s not ideal to be working the day after you just lost the love of your life but reality doesn’t stop for your problems. If you weren’t in desperate need of the money, you would have just neglected to show up.

You haven’t slept, your eyes are a darker shade than before, and the smile you couldn’t stop plastering over your face the past couple of months is non-existent.

Last night, you went home just like Coach Lee had instructed but you don’t know if it was the best idea. The journey home with your mum was filled with her yapping about how true love never existed and how she knew his plan was this all along. There was no sympathy from her, not a surprise considering her face yesterday looked like she just won the lottery.

Minhee, on the other hand, sat silent, fizzing from head to toe. Honestly, you expected him to be fuming since Sunghoon was the factor in your current drift from one another, however, you did expect an undertone similar to your mothers gloating; he should be telling you ‘I told you so’ but instead he seems less boastful and more resentful.

"Your total comes to £54.35," you murmur in a monotone, extending your hand for the payment from the elderly woman. As she counts out each pound coin, you find yourself retreating into your thoughts once more, replaying the events over and over again.

Sunghoon looked so sincere when he told you it wasn’t him on the recorded phone call. The biggest question that twirled in your mind was how your mum got the audio in the first place. Sunghoon's assertion that he was only friends with Jay and Jake, who wouldn't betray him, seemed plausible, he hadn’t ever mentioned anyone but them in all the times you have spoken. So, who could have provided it to her?

That’s what you should have questioned when you had the chance, instead of letting your mind loop in on itself and confuse you to the point you didn’t even hear Sunghoon out.

You want to reach out and ask him to meet you but it wasn’t just you that got hurt yesterday.

If there’s one image that’s sticking in the forefront of your brain right now, it’s Sunghoon’s face when he found out you lied to him. Perhaps you should have questioned everything then, considering how shattered he appeared. Someone who set out to betray you wouldn’t look so devastated that you hurt them, would they?

You're also gripped with anxiety that getting in touch with Sunghoon would make things worse and he'll reveal Minhee's actions to the National Board. It scares you to think of your brother losing his chance to skate and being disqualified from competition.

Space might be just what you all need.

But finding that space is proving to be a challenge when your mind is consumed by these thoughts incessantly. You feel utterly overwhelmed, your mental state crumbling, leaving you feeling helpless.

The old lady hands over the money, and you mechanically carry on with your shift.

Once it's over, you contemplate your options for where to go next. Normally, the rink would be your refuge, but it feels too loaded with memories right now. Rina's occupied with her anniversary date with Allen, leaving you with no one else to turn to. The library, despite being open 24 hours, holds no appeal; the idea of sitting in silence, trying to study, feels like torture.

With a tired yawn, you realise there's only one place left to go: home.

______

Kicking off your shoes at the door, you trudge up the stairs, each step feeling like an effort as exhaustion weighs heavily on your limbs. The lure of your bed grows stronger with each passing moment as if it's calling out to you louder with every step.

You notice that your mum's bedroom light is off, signalling that she's already asleep, while Minhee's room emits the usual blue glow of his computer screen. If it weren't for the ache in your heart, this could easily pass for a typical Wednesday night.

Entering your room, you're greeted by an unexpected sight. It's not as you left it; the bed is neatly made, your stuffed toys lined up by the pillows, your desk reorganised the way you like it, and all your clothes tidily put away. Someone has cleaned for you, a rare occurrence unless you're sick.

The one prominent feature of your newly organised room is the gleaming glass trophy on your windowsill. It stands proudly, displaying your achievement to everyone as they enter the room.

This had to be Minhee’s doing, your mum would never go to these lengths.

Unfortunately, the award just serves as a memory to Sunghoon rather than yourself. It was the night you became officially his, the night you threw all guilt and caution to the wind so you could claim him as yours.

Taking the trophy, you toss it in your top drawer and shut it roughly, not caring about the damage you could cause it.

With no energy to shower, you change into pyjamas. It’s a bad idea to slip into one of Sunghoon’s hoodies but as it envelopes you in warmth on the cold night, you don’t think about it twice. The smell of him still lingering as you put up the hood punches you in the chest. You miss him, it’s as simple as that.

As you sink into the welcoming embrace of your bed, the weight of the day gradually begins to lift from your shoulders, only to be replaced by a hollow ache that settles in the pit of your stomach. Closing your eyes, you attempt to banish the tumultuous thoughts swirling in your mind and drift into sleep.

You toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position, but your mind refuses to quiet down. Images of Sunghoon's smile and the warmth of his hugs dance behind your eyelids, taunting you. Every time you close your eyes, it's like you're transported back to happier times.

For what seems like hours, your heart and brain fight with one another, much like the night before. Your heart aches to be with Sunghoon, to trust him completely while your head rationalises the evidence presented to you by your mother.

Just as you begin to resign yourself to another sleepless night, a soft knock at your door interrupts your thoughts. Minhee's concerned voice cuts through the silence, drawing your attention, "Y/N? Are you still awake?"

With a frustrated huff, you turn your back to Minhee, a silent declaration of your anger and hurt. Acting this way may seem childish, but this is how you’ve always acted towards him when conflicts arise between you, like you regress back to being kids.

Minhee sighs, walking to the edge of your bed before helping himself to a seat beside you, “You don’t have to speak to me but you can listen.” He looks down at his hands, wondering how to broach the situation, the words aren’t coming so easily, “I…I know I did something really shitty, okay? I shouldn’t have fucked with his skate like that, Mum just…”

When he pauses, your intrigue is piqued and you twist your head to look at him. You can see his internal battle whether to tell you something or keep it to himself. The rooted anger towards your brother grows a little, “This is the only opportunity I’m giving you to explain yourself,” you warn him with a hidden urge for him to continue.

He breathes out slowly, his voice carrying the weight of a burden, "Mum just put so much pressure on me to win, like all she’s spoken about was how I need to place first,” his words quiver slightly, a reflection of the self-doubt flooding his body.

It's astonishing how one woman can make both her children feel so worthless.

As you turn to face Minhee, his expression mirrors the familiar blend of anguish and self-doubt that you've seen on Sunghoon's face countless times. It's a painful reminder of the weight their mothers' expectations have placed upon them.

"Mini, you could easily beat Sunghoon at Nationals. You didn't have to listen to Mum," you offer, your voice laced with both empathy and frustration.

The issue has never been Sunghoon or Minhee; it's always been their mums.

Minhee takes a deep breath, steeling himself to reveal the truth that he's been carrying with him all this time, "Listen to me," he begins, his voice tinged with bitterness, "Mum needs me to win."

Your confusion deepens, leaving lines of bewilderment etched on your face as you struggle to comprehend his words, "What?" you ask, all tiredness suddenly leaving your body.

"The odds of me winning aren’t in my favour, so she put on a bet. She'll get shit tons of money if I win. She put basically all her savings into it, all my money too," his jaw clenches as he recalls the conversation they had.

Your confusion escalates further as Minhee's revelations continue to unfold before you. "Since when was Mum into gambling?" you ask, the disbelief evident in your voice.

Minhee sighs heavily, his frustration palpable as he struggles to find the right words, "There's so much you don't know about her, Bubs," he admits, his tone tinged with regret, "The gambling isn't even above board. It's all underground-type shit with high rates. I swear I didn't know anything about any of it until she guilt-tripped me into going along with her scheme."

There was no denying your Mum was a little secretive, especially after your dad left, but this is not anything like you could have imagined. You had always wondered where your Mum got the money to support Minhee’s skating but his brand deals were good enough to keep you all afloat, so you just presumed it was that.

Minhee sees you calculating in your head and decides to continue, “Once she told me, I started practising like crazy, I trained almost every day just to be in with a chance but she wasn’t confident enough so she told me-”

"To break Hoon’s skate," you finish his sentence for him, the pieces of the puzzle snapping into place with a chilling clarity.

You knew something was off that morning - the way your Mum was extra harsh on him, telling him to make sure he ‘gets it done’. It was such unusual phrasing that you should have clocked on to it sooner.

This is exactly why you didn’t want to tell Sunghoon about it. You wanted to get to the bottom of it all because you were filled with suspicion from the get-go. The thought of your own mother putting Minhee in a position like this fills you with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“Why did you go along with it? If she doesn’t get the money, that’s her problem, no?” you query, trying to tie every string of this situation together for your own peace of mind.

Minhee sucks his teeth and looks away from you, “You know how much effort and time she put into my career, she sacrificed everything for it, her old job, money, even the breakdown of her marriage was because of me. I owe her this.” He’s withholding some information, using this as the sole his sole reason for helping, but there is more to it, you can tell that much.

Your chest fills with hurt as you speak, “The divorce wasn’t your fault, Mini. Mrs. Park started that rumour and it drove Dad to leave. That has zero to do with you. Plus, she pushed you to go professional when you were a child, you didn’t exactly beg her to let you compete. You owe her nothing.”

You know for a fact it’s her words that have made him believe he is the route of all her problems. If only you paid closer attention to what was going on, maybe you could have counteracted her venom with something, anything, to help him believe he wasn’t tied to her like this.

Taking one of his hands, you scoot closer to him, the warmth of his presence a balm to your troubled soul. Resting your head on his shoulder, you feel the weight of the world pressing down on both of you. "You should have told me, Minhee. I could have helped you."

He shakes his head before encircling an arm around your back, pulling you closer to him as if seeking solace in your embrace, "I wanted to protect you. She would have dragged you into it as well if she could," he confesses, his voice tinged with regret, "I regret it. I wish I just didn’t let her manipulate me into doing that to Sunghoon. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when I saw him at the rink that day we were doing the peer reviews."

It shocks you to hear him say that, considering he’s usually cursing the boy's name every time he was forced within 10 feet of him.

There was one thing that didn’t add up though, “Wait, if mum put the bet on, wouldn’t the bet be just to beat him? Why did she try and knock him out altogether with the skate? Surely that would cancel out the bet and she wouldn’t win the money?” you query, hoping your brother has the answers.

He shakes his head, “She never wanted him out of competition, just to injure him enough that he wouldn’t be able to compete to his usual standard, y’know? I would be in with a chance of beating him then,” he tells you, stroking your side, “It was touch and go for a minute, I don’t know what she would have done if he couldn’t compete.”

Underneath your head, you feel his shoulders tense up again, causing you to lift your face to look at him, concern etched into your features. "Is there more?" you ask, dreading the answer but knowing you can't avoid it. He knows more than he is letting on, you can tell.

“Look, I’m going to say something that sounds so batshit crazy, okay, but you gotta believe me,” he says, his tone urgent, “And you know I’m not Sunghoon’s number one supporter, so you know I wouldn’t lie to make him look good.”

"Oh my god, Mini, just tell me, please," you plead, unable to bear the suspense any longer.

"The phone call was fake," he confesses, gingerly meeting your eyes as you give him a look of astonishment

Your mind reels at his revelation, struggling to comprehend the implications of what he's just said, "Fake? How? Don’t tell me you were a part of this too?"

“Fuck no, I was as shocked as you were,” Minhee protests, taking a deep breath before divulging what he knows, “I went searching after it all didn’t add up. Like, who the fuck records conversations like that in the first place, never mind sending them to Mum?”

You have to agree with him, the question also did come to your mind once you calmed down.

As he takes out his phone, Minhee's expression darkens with seriousness, his fingers tapping across the screen to reveal a series of emails. He shows you the correspondence between your mum and someone named Soohyun, highlighting the transactions and agreements outlined within.

"She paid him money to use some sort of AI to make it sound like Sunghoon was saying all that stuff about you and your relationship," Minhee explains, his voice laced with disbelief and anger, "It was one last attempt to fuck with him before the competition. She really needs that money, Bubs."

Shock courses through you, a tidal wave of disbelief crashing against the shores of your consciousness. The realisation sinks in slowly, each email adding another layer to the intricate web of deceit woven by your mother, "I-I can't believe this," you stutter, struggling to process the enormity of what he's just revealed.

Minhee gently takes the phone from your hand, returning it to his hoodie pocket with a sigh, "I know. It's like something out of a bad TV show, but it's true," he admits, his tone heavy with resignation. As his hand finds yours, a sense of solidarity washes over you, his touch offering a small measure of comfort amidst the chaos.

"To be honest, I had kinda knew it was fake," Minhee continues, his words slow and measured, "Don't get me wrong, I was livid at the idea of anyone using you that way. But on the drive home, I realized, this is Park Sunghoon we're talking about. He wouldn't dare to do that to you."

Confusion clouds your features as you furrow your brow, struggling to make sense of his words. "Huh? What are you talking about?" you ask, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

Minhee's expression softens as he meets your gaze, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "He liked you for so long, like for years. You were just so oblivious to it," he explains, his tone gentle yet matter-of-fact. "If he has the chance to date you, he's not going to take it for granted, and certainly not use you just to mess with my head."

As Minhee's words sink in, a flicker of realisation dawns upon you. Memories of Sunghoon's lingering glances and subtle gestures flood your mind, painting a picture of unspoken feelings that had gone unnoticed for far too long, "Do you know he asked me for permission to date you when we were like 15 maybe? I can't really remember exactly…but anyway, I told him to get lost," Minhee adds with a wry grin, his words punctuated by a hint of nostalgia.

Now this was new information. All you knew was that Sunghoon had knocked you back when you asked him out about that age.

“I had my reasons.”

His voice echoes in your brain as you recall what he said at the ice rink on your first date as an official couple. All this time, you had believed Sunghoon's rejection was solely his decision, unaware of Minhee's influence behind the scenes, “You told him to say no to me? Did you know I was going to confess?” Anger rises within you, not real anger but the one that siblings have for each other when one steals the remote control or eats the leftover food they were saving.

"Whoa, yeah, okay, but you have to understand I was protecting you. I don’t even know what Mum would have done back then if you started dating him, especially because it was so close after Dad left," Minhee's voice is laced with remorse as he hangs his head. "I know I had no right to tell him to leave you alone, but…"

The anger in you subsides as you see him slump a little.

"You're the most important person in my life, Y/N. You're my little sister, my best friend," he continues, his voice trembling with emotion, "He took championships and brand deals from me, fine, but if he took you away from me, particularly back then, I think I would have died." He avoids your gaze, his admission laden with shame at his insecurities.

His words weigh heavily on your heart, the depth of his love and fear for you leaving you speechless, “I’m your sister, Mini. He could never tak-”

“Hasn’t he?” His interjection silences you, “You stopped coming to my practices, we don’t hang out anymore, it’s like I barely see you,”

His words strike a chord, piercing through the haze of your own emotions. Suddenly, the gravity of his words sinks in, and you realise the toll that recent events have taken on your relationship with Minhee. You were so caught up in yourself that you hadn’t factored in how the distance would affect him.

Being caught up in your newfound relationship, you inadvertently left behind the one person who had always been there for you, the one who needed you the most. Guilt washes over you as you realize the depth of Minhee's loneliness and isolation in your absence. You and Minhee had been each other's rock for so long, but now, it feels like you're drifting apart, and you can't help but feel responsible.

A heavy silence envelops the room, thick with unspoken regrets and untold truths. You feel the weight of Minhee's gaze upon you, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"I... I didn't realise," you murmur, the words catching in your throat, "I didn't mean to drift away from you, Mini. I just... I got caught up in my own guilt, and it was easier to avoid you altogether."

Minhee listens quietly, his understanding washing over you like a soothing tide. His empathy is palpable in the gentleness of his gaze. "I'm sorry for putting you in that position. I guess I hadn't realised that trying to keep you from him was actually doing the opposite of what I thought it would," he admits, his voice filled with remorse. Bringing you closer to his side, he rubs your waist in a gesture of comfort. "I pushed you away and blamed it all on Sunghoon."

"You'll always be my number one, Mini. You don't have to worry about that," you assure him, offering a heartfelt smile in return.

If there were such a thing as twin flames, you and Minhee would surely be just that. In every universe, you both burn together, facing every trial and tribulation that comes your way. You're deeply thankful to have him as your brother.

“Did he actually like me this whole time?" You can't help but beam at the thought of the Ice Prince harbouring feelings for you all these years.

With a groan, Minhee pushes you away playfully, "Ugh, yes. He would NOT let it go either. Even asked me if he could take you to prom," he recalls with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“PROM? He wanted to take me to my prom?” You squeal at the thought, imagining Sunghoon awkwardly mustering up the courage to ask Minhee for permission to take you to prom. It's a surreal image, but one that fills you with a strange sense of warmth, “I had no idea he was that into me back then,” you idly play with your hair, trying to stop yourself from reverting back to your 14-year-old self as you imagine Sunghoon crushing on you too.

Minhee shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Probably just desperate, to be honest," he teases, earning an annoyed gasp and a few playful slaps to his shoulder. "Ow! Look, just because I’m not against you dating him anymore doesn’t mean I want to hear you gushing over him, okay?"

Your eyes widen in surprise at his revelation. "You... you aren’t against it?" The words feel fake as if you've stepped into an alternate reality where Minhee's acceptance of your relationship with Sunghoon is not only possible but welcomed.

Minhee sighs, raking his fingers through his hair, “I’m still not happy that you lied to me about it, and I am not his biggest fan,” he starts, eyes pointed at you with annoyance, “But he makes you happy and that picture you accidentally sent me was…well he clearly loves you,” It burns him to say it, you can see it in how his mouth cringes, “And after everything that’s happened, maybe I should let go of some of the grudges.”

You might have to clean out your ears to make sure you’ve heard correctly.

In one swoop, you hug him tightly, “Thank you, Mini,” You hadn’t realised the weight that you had been carrying all over your body regarding this whole secret boyfriend situation, but it’s finally gone.

“Don’t thank me just yet, you need to make up with him first,” Minhee says, “That should be easy though.”

Ah, there was that little hiccup, “It’s a little more complicated than that,” you say sheepishly as you scratch the back of your hand. Your brother stares with questioning eyes, “When we argued at Belmore I might have accidentally told him you broke his skate and that I knew,” your shoulders rise as you speak, face spreading with awkwardness and guilt.

“You’re so fucking stupid, Y/N. Why would you tell him that?!” He is exasperated by you, his hands rubbing up and down his face to exhibit his frustration with you.

“It slipped out! Come on, I could have told him well before yesterday. Give me some credit,” you argue back.

Both of you stare at each other, and the room’s silence quickly fills with your outburst of laughter. The tension dissipates as laughter bubbles between you, the weight of the conversation lifting momentarily. Despite the gravity of the situation, there's something strangely comforting about being able to find humour in the midst of it all.

"Okay, okay, fair point," Minhee concedes, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips, "But seriously, you need to sort things out with him, if he tells the board I’ll never be able to skate again,” you look at him incredulously to which he just laughs, “Yeah, I am aware of the irony, okay? Just please sort it out. If not for me, for yourself.”

Nodding, you cross your fingers, “I will.”

“I love you, Bubs,” Minhee stands and kisses the crown of your head, smiling in relief that he has his best friend back, “Tell him if he hurts you for real, I’ll break his legs next time.” Your mouth hangs open as he walks away shrugging.

The weight of the situation settles over you once more, but this time, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. You just hope you can fix this.

______

You find yourself standing at Sunghoon's doorstep, your hand poised to knock, yet inexplicably frozen in place. Why has the simple act of chapping on his door suddenly become so daunting?

A nagging voice echoes in your mind, whispering doubts about whether he'll even care, convinced that the damage has already been done. The weight of the colossal secret you've kept from him bears down heavily, compounded by the regret of not believing him when he insisted the audio wasn’t him.

Yesterday, confusion clouded your judgment, leaving you unable to think clearly, grasping onto every detail at face value. But amidst the chaos, you failed to afford the same trust and belief in his earnest pleas and declarations of love.

Now, the fear grips you tight: What if he doesn’t want to mend things? What if, because of some senseless scheme concocted by your own mother, you've lost the love of your life?

But you’re a big girl, you have to face this no matter the outcome.

With that mindset, you finally chap the door, breathing out slowly as you do so. The nerves sit in your throat as it dries out, the idea of losing him was just inconceivable.

The door swings open to reveal Jay, clearly just awake. His hair is sticking to one side and he hasn’t bothered to put on clothes, boxers being the only thing keeping his dignity. You suppose turning up to the flat at 6am on a Thursday would grant some disturbance.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Jay asks, one eye still closed.

“I need to speak to Sunghoon,” you try to convey the urgency in your voice but it comes out breathlessly. You hadn’t realised you were holding in the air until you spoke.

Jay's sigh echoes in the room, his gaze drifting upwards as he considers your request. "I don’t think it’s a good idea, Y/N, he's kinda pissed," he cautions, his tone tinged with concern.

You understand Jay's apprehension, but you can't let the rift between you and Sunghoon deepen any further. The longer you both remain trapped in this mess, the harder it will be to mend your relationship. Time might heal some wounds but it won’t fix them.

“Can I just talk to him? I need to explain,” you plead, tapping your fingers together, you avoid his judgmental gaze.

Jay's response is swift, his conviction clear as he defends Sunghoon's character. "You didn’t actually believe your mum, right? Like anyone with a clue can see how much he loves you. He wouldn’t do something like that," he states, offering a comforting gesture by rubbing his shoulder slightly. It's evident that Jay is trying to rebuild Sunghoon's image in your eyes, a testament to the unwavering bond between him and his best friend.

As you stand there, you can’t explain your thoughts during your fight with your boyfriend because you still can’t make sense of them yourself; however he was right, you should have seen his love past the lies of your mother.

Nodding with a hint of shame, you admit, “It was all just too much to process, and I handled it poorly. But I have to fix it.” Despite the weight of your guilt, a steely determination underlines your words.

Jay sees it, he understands you didn’t want to hurt Sunghoon the way you did. Maybe he’s a bit more understanding of your own grief because his best friend neglected to mention that you lied to him about Minhee and his skate.

When Sunghoon arrived home, Jake and Jay greeted him eagerly, anticipating news from his check-up. However, their excitement quickly turned to concern as Sunghoon stormed in, slamming the door behind him with such force that it caused shelves to rattle.

Concern etched across their faces, his friends inquired about the situation with genuine worry as Sunghoon recounted the events involving your mother and the recording. However, he purposefully omitted any mention of the skate. He didn't want to tarnish your image in the eyes of his friends with his own anger-induced bias. He understood all too well that they might harbour animosity toward you for your deception, and the mere thought of it was unbearable to him.

So he didn’t bother to spill it, still protecting you even amidst his fury.

"I heard him leave this morning. I think he went to the rink, like he usually does to clear his head," Jay offered, unsure if he should disclose this information but feeling a strong intuition that both you and Sunghoon needed it.

Your expression softens with gratitude as you look up, "Thanks, Jay," you say, appreciation evident in your voice.

As you begin to turn, preparing to make your journey back to your side of town and into Belmore, Jay's voice suddenly pierces the quiet morning air, halting your movements, "Wait there, I'll give you a lift," he calls out, his offer catching you off guard.

Before you can even muster a response to decline his kind gesture, Jay is already striding purposefully back to his room to get dressed.

Left standing alone in the tranquillity of the early morning, the absence of Jay's presence allows your mind to wander freely. You had prepared yourself to talk to Sunghoon at this very moment but now you have a whole 40-minute drive to contemplate his reaction all over again. It’s scary, the idea of this being the end of you both.

When Jay finally emerges, dressed and ready to go, he motions for you to follow him as you both make your way to his car. You don’t know why he’s doing this but you’re thankful for the saved time, the time to get here was already long enough, never mind making the same painstaking journey back.

The drive begins in silence, the gentle hum of the engine merging with the rhythm of your own racing heart. Jay's quietness feels unfamiliar, a subtle shift in the energy between you since your last encounter, though not entirely unexpected.

With some courage, you figure talking to Jay might help you later on when speaking to Sunghoon, “I think deep down I knew he didn’t say it.”

It’s a simple confession but one you had to say out loud.

Jay spares you a quick glance before keeping his attention on the road, “He’s doted on you, like literally obsessed with you. Do you not see that, or?” There's a hint of irritation as he speaks. He can’t fathom why you would ever believe one shitty phone call rather than your boyfriend who would drop the world at your feet if you asked.

He hasn't witnessed every facet of your relationship, but from what he has seen, he can't help but envy it. He longs to experience the kind of connection Sunghoon has found with you, hoping to find someone who reciprocates his feelings in the same way. What frustrates him about the situation is the apparent disregard you show for his best friend's love. It's as if you fail to grasp the profound depth of Sunghoon's affection, while there are others out there yearning for even a fraction of such devotion.

You angle your body to face him before speaking, “I know. There was just a lot going on and…you should have heard it, Jay. It sounded so fucking real,” you almost plead with him to see your side.

Even Sunghoon had mentioned how authentic the audio sounded, so Jay knew what you were talking about. He simply nods to acknowledge you, his expression showing understanding, “What was it then? How did she do it?”

"Some AI guy. She hired him to grab snippets from Hoon's interviews and make the audio," you tell Jay, omitting any mention of the gambling or other family drama

Jay's eyes widen in surprise. "Damn, seriously? She stooped that low?" he says, his astonishment visible in his tone. All you can do is nod, aware of how absurd and unsettling the situation is, "AI is so fucking scary, man," Jay says, shaking his head in dismay.

You agree wholeheartedly, a shiver running down your spine at the thought of the lengths people would go to manipulate technology for their own agendas, "It’s so bizarre," you murmur, still trying to wrap your head around the whole ordeal.

The silence that settles between you both now feels different, no longer heavy with tension but rather mutually comforting. Each of you understands the gravity of the situation and the complexities it entails.

In this shared moment of understanding, surrounded by the quiet of the morning and Jay's silent support, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, in stark contrast to the turbulence that has plagued you since Tuesday. If Jay understands your side of the story, perhaps Sunghoon would as well.

Pulling up to Belmore, Jay stops the car at the entrance, “Y/N,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts, “You’re good for one another, and Jake and I like having you around, so fix this, yeah?”

You nod, determined and empowered by his words, “I will.”

_____

As you step onto the rink, your eyes lock onto Sunghoon, gliding with so much velocity that it sends a shiver down your spine. You can't help but feel a pang of worry, knowing he's pushing himself to the limit, risking injury once more. As you approach, beads of sweat glisten on his face, his hair clinging to his skin, a visual confirmation of your concerns.

He propels himself into a jump, the sharp sound of his skate slicing through the air, reverberating across the arena. However, his landing isn't smooth; his ankle bends awkwardly, causing him to fall onto the ice.

"Sunghoon, be careful!" you call out, running to be by his side. Ignoring the impracticality of your footwear, you shuffle onto the ice and kneel beside him, "Are you out of your mind?"

Much to your dismay, Sunghoon’s ankle is thumping, a superficial heartbeat pulsing through it. He might be able to go back on the ice but he’s over-exerting himself. He doesn’t look at you, focusing on his ankle, but he also doesn’t push you away, letting you undo the bandage to assess the damage.

Seemingly, his ankle is okay, nothing torn or hurt beyond what was already there, the bruise from a few weeks ago dying into a faded yellow, a promising sign but it still pains you to see.

Standing up, you offer him your hands for support but he shrugs you off, opting to stand on his own and skate over to the exit of the rink, “What are you doing here? Come to mess up my other skate?” His tone is sharp and accusatory, indicating that he’s still angry.

“It wasn’t me and you know that,” you defend yourself, slowly walking behind him trying not to slip.

You both successfully make it off the ice, Sunghoon plonking himself onto the bench outside. Going back to his ankle, you kneel and start the process of re-wrapping the bandage tightly, again with no protest from him. Hopefully, that’s a better sign of forgiveness compared to what his voice is suggesting.

Carefully, you discard his skate to the side and gather the bandage, your cold hand sparks a jolt in Sunghoon as you hold the start of the wrap to the back of his ankle. You take your time to eliminate any cause of discomfort which for the most part you succeed in.

“You kept it a secret, Y/N. Lied to my face,” he says through gritted teeth which you don’t know if it’s from anger or pain, possibly a mixture of both, “Everything wrong in my life seems to be because of your family.” The words sting because you know it’s true. As much as you would love to be excluded from the accusation, you know he’s right.

“I know,” You say lowly, putting all your attention on his ankle.

Looking at you, Sunghoon sighs, his body heavy with mixed feelings. Just looking at you now he wants to wrap you in his arms and tell you everything is okay, that he forgives you, but he can’t do that without some sort of explanation.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks softly, staring at you as if trying to reach into your brain and pull the answers out himself.

Adjusting the bandage with a gentle twist, you offer your explanation, “Honestly, I thought I was protecting you. You had so much going on; not knowing if you would make nationals, the argument with your mum, there was just never a right time.”

Sucking his teeth, he nods, “Feels like you were protecting your brother.”

“I was, in some ways. There was something so strange going on I wanted to try and figure it out before I told you. I wanted an excuse so you wouldn’t blame him for it,” you explain your thought process to him but he won’t get it, not unless he was you in that situation.

Yet, to your surprise, Sunghoon grasps the sentiment perfectly. Protecting your brother is second nature, ingrained within you, even on the first day when everyone discovered they would be combining the rinks, you tried to protect him from doing something stupid.

The only thing he doesn’t understand is why Minhee did it.

“Did you ever find an excuse for him? Or can I blame him for this?” he points to his ankle with his other foot so you see it. You haven’t looked at him once since you started to tend to his injury.

“You can blame him for it,” you start, pausing your actions as you wonder whether you should tell him what transpired, why Minhee did it, “Minhee…My mum put him up to it, to get you injured for Nationals so Minhee had a better chance of winning.”

“Shit, okay.”

Knowing Sunghoon, he’s trying to piece it all together to save you the explanation, but this is far too complicated for him to work out on his own, “This is going to sound so crazy, but I need you to listen. My mum is struggling to make ends meet and she got into some gambling scene. She put loads of money for Minhee to win, specifically to beat you and if she wins, it’s like thousands of pounds, enough to get her out of the debt she’s in. I don’t know how it works but it’s shady. She didn’t trust Minhee to get the job done on his own so…” You trail off, hoping he’ll put the puzzle together now.

Taking the safety pin, you secure the wrap and pull down his trouser leg, yet, you still don’t look at him, scared of his reaction. If you were in his shoes, you would not believe anything about what was just said.

But unlike you, Sunghoon knows what crazy sports mums are willing to do for their kids to succeed, his mum being a prime example, “Y/N, seriously, you should have told me.”

“I didn’t find out about the whole gambling thing until last night when Mini told me. Sunghoon, please believe me when I say he didn’t want to do it, he just…he thinks he owes our mum like he’s the one that put us in debt for chasing this dream, that he’s the reason for a lot of things outwith his control.”

“Sweets,” Sunghoon breathes out, grabbing your chin, forcing you to finally look at him, “I get it, I mean, I’m not particularly chill with it since my career could have ended but the way Minhee is feeling, I do understand.”

His eyes hold yours like they’re hugging you, trying to pull you from your worries and somehow it works. You feel a little lighter, his hand now etching its way to your cheek to cradle it. Instinctively, you lean into his touch, seeking his comfort.

“I’m sorry, Hoonie,” you state solemnly, angry and hurt that he was just a pawn in your mother's game, the relationship between you both strained because of her and yet you were the one apologising on her behalf.

You’re sorry for your own mistakes, but nothing was as bad as her tricks.

Sunghoon offers you a small smile, ushering you to sit next to him on the bench so he isn’t looking down on you. The symbolism of you feeling lesser is evident to him and he can’t stand it.

He turns to face you as you take a seat next to him, his hand resting comfortingly on your leg. “That phone call, I didn't say all that. That wasn't me, you have to believe me" he begs you to trust him.

"Yeah, I know," you respond with a bitter scoff, recalling the manipulative tactics of your mother. The skater's expression shifts to confusion as you continue, "My mum did that too, another thing that’s going to sound even crazier than breaking your skate."

You recount the incident with the AI recording, detailing your mother's desperate attempts to win her bet and her willingness to destroy your relationship in the process. With each sentence, his bewilderment deepens, his eyes widening and narrowing, and his mouth opening and closing in disbelief.

"Wait, seriously? It was AI?" he interjects once you've recounted every bizarre detail.

As he grapples with the revelation, you seize the opportunity to provide some comfort, gently wiping the sweat from his brow and pushing his dishevelled hair back from his face. The tension seems to ease from his features.

You pout at him, the weight of guilt settling heavily in your chest. "I'm really sorry for not believing you when all of this came out," you admit, your voice tinged with remorse.

He reaches out to take your hand in his, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin, "No, no, Sweets, it's okay," he reassures you, his tone soft and understanding, "She even gaslighted me for a second,” he suddenly starts to chuckle, “I thought my biggest worry was people making those ‘If Sunghoon sang Chase Atlantic’ AI TikToks.”

You laugh with him, knowing what he’s talking about. One day he came to you and showed you a video of him singing Slow Down which creeped you out and impressed you all at once.

The moment of laughter dies down, the break in tension creating much-needed relief for both of you. This whole scenario is so fucked up it’s hard to believe, you’re just thankful Sunghoon is so understanding.

“What about Minhee?” he asks suddenly, passing the confusion to you, “Like, how is he in all of this?”

Sunghoon’s concern for your brother, whether big or small, makes your love for him pound in your chest. Even after everything, he was still asking about Minhee which meant he might not hold a grudge, and more importantly, not go to the board.

Is it selfish to think that right now? To still be concerned about Minhee’s career?

Your boyfriend sees your eyes twitch, his telltale sign that your mind is racing, “Sweets?”

He breaks your thoughts, “Oh, he’s uh, he’s just stressed I think. I need to properly speak to him at some point and figure out what he wants to do,” you shake off the idea that Minhee won’t get to achieve his dream, scared that you might manifest it by accident.

Sunghoon nods, sighing deeply as he sheds any of the weight that was held over him. He wishes you would have trusted him when you heard the audio, but he does understand. Sometimes, he can be too understanding and he knows this, but it’s so easy to forgive or find reasoning for your actions.

Which will help you with your next request.

"Please don't go to the board," you finally confess, your voice barely above a whisper. It takes every ounce of courage you possess to voice the plea, but you know you have to ensure your mother hasn't irreparably damaged Minhee's chance at the Olympics. You need to see him succeed - he deserves it more than anyone.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he smiles, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, "I won't, I promise. For you though, only for you."

The weight that's been pressing down on your shoulders suddenly lifts, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief. You almost cry at how patient and understanding Sunghoon is, you wonder if you’ve ever met anyone like him before.

There’s a comfortable calmness in the air, his nose nuzzles against yours as he smiles contently, happy to have you back beside him. The past two days felt like weeks. It made him realise just how important you are to his life. He can’t live without you and never wants to be apart.

“So is Minhee…cool with us?” he asks gingerly.

Your face lights up as you lean back, “Actually, he’s completely fine with it, well, he said he still doesn’t like you but you make me happy. That’s all he wants.”

Minhee and you will forever prioritise each other's happiness above all else. These recent events have underscored that sentiment, even if it took some time to fully grasp. Ultimately, you both want nothing but the best for each other.

Sunghoon appears genuinely surprised by your declaration, his eyebrows shooting up, "Really? No resentment or anything?"

"Really," you confirm, observing his reaction closely. "He... he actually told me about forbidding you from seeing me all those years ago," you add, realising his astonishment at the news about your brother being on board with your relationship likely stems from the years of Minhee pushing him away from you.

Flushed, Sunghoon shuts his eyes, “No, he didn’t,” he winces at the idea of you finding out about his long-term crush on you.

“He did. Told me how you begged him to let you take me to prom too,” you gloat, a massive triumphant smile on your face, “You loooved me all those years ago, you have to admit it now,” you joke and his face turns even redder.

Typically, Sunghoon is being chased, so to have this hanging over his head in your relationship, he knows you’ll never shut up about it. He will admit though, that the look of delight on your face is almost worth the embarrassment.

“Okay, yeah. But blame Minhee for making us miss so many years together, okay? He was shit scary back then. I thought he was going to skin me alive,” Sunghoon recollects asking him if he could ask you out to the cinema, an innocent tiny date and Minhee, the scariest 14-year-old there was to ever live at that point, well to Sunghoon anyway, practically ripped his head off.

Prom was a mistake, he was simply asking if you had a date to prom. Yes, he was going to ask you if Minhee said no, regardless of what your brother would say, but the fire in Minhee’s eyes wasn’t one to be messed with and by this point, he was a gym-attending 19-year-old with an extra protective layer over you. Enough said.

You giggle and take his hand, offering him a sympathetic smile, “He was scared to lose me.”

"Who wouldn't be," he responds without hesitation, his tone serious and sincere.

His immediate reply catches you off guard and you do a double take, surprised by the sudden intensity in his voice.

Sunghoon wasn’t just saying it; he was petrified at the thought of losing you, especially after your mother's deceitful phone call. The look of betrayal on your face had cut him to the core, a pain he never wanted to inflict upon you. He loved you too much for that.

As you process his words, you realise there's a deep emotion behind them that you hadn't fully grasped before. Sunghoon's admission hangs heavy in the air, revealing a vulnerability. Your heart clenches with empathy, knowing that his dread of losing you is deep. You softly squeeze his hand, silently expressing your empathy.

You felt the exact same way about him - terrified of losing one of the people who means everything to you.

"I'm sorry," you say quietly, your voice full of regret, "I never want you to feel like you're going to lose me."

Sunghoon's gaze softens as he meets your eyes, a flicker of emotion dancing in the depths of his own. He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss against your knuckles, "I know, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with reassurance, “I’m not letting you go anyway, you’re stuck with me now.”

You laugh, shaking your head. There's a silent vow between you both to cherish and reassure each other whenever you have to, “Can we start again?”

“Yeah, of course, Sweets.” He plasters a genuine grin on his face, elated with the idea of putting all the negativity and lies behind the relationship and starting fresh.

You stretch out your hand, teeth showing as you smile, “Hi, I’m Y/N Kang. I’m your biggest fan.”

Sunghoon’s heart pounds loudly, you are his fan but to him, you’re more like an extractor fan. If you don’t have one of those, things go rotten and that’s exactly what it felt like without you. He needed you to such the poison and pain from his bones, he selfishly needed your love to make him feel alive.

He wants to provide you with that same feeling.

Taking your hand he smiles widely, mirroring your enthusiasm, “I’m Park Sunghoon. I am your biggest fan.”

________

The bleacher seats are your makeshift study space, textbooks and notes scattered haphazardly around you as you bury yourself in preparation for the looming winter exams. The chill of the air contrasts with the warmth of your determination; you had an award to uphold after all.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend is focused on a different kind of preparation. With just four days until nationals, he's dedicated himself to ensuring his ankle is in peak condition. Despite having twisted it just a few weeks ago, he's pushing himself hard, determined to perform at his best on the ice. When he pushes himself a little too much, you’re there to pull him back, or rather nag him to be careful

You steal glances at him whenever you can. Despite the injury, he moves with a fluid grace, his dedication evident in every precise movement. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't even guess that his ankle had been injured at all.

As you bury your nose in your books, a sense of admiration washes over you. His resilience and commitment inspire you to push through your own challenges. Granted, yours is a little less intimidating, the exams you’ll take will be confined to a week inside a study hall whereas Sunghoon is skating in front of thousands and being broadcast on TV.

Lost in your studies, you're suddenly jolted back to reality by a soft tap on your paper. Glancing up, you're met with a warm smile from your boyfriend, his eyes twinkling with affection, “You’re so serious when you’re focused,” He laughs, leaning over the barrier of the ice rink.

“Are you done?” You ask enthusiastically, hoping to get out of here and get the dinner he promised you 3 hours ago; your stomach wasn’t prepared to be denied food for so long that it started to speak to you about an hour ago.

"Just about, baby. You wanna go for Italian?" Sunghoon suggests, his eyes twinkling with mischief. His suggestion makes you smile; you've been raving about gnocchi for the past two days, and he's clearly been paying attention.

As you agree, his grin widens, and he leans in close, "Great, I'll go get changed and be right out," he declares, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Leaning over the barrier, Sunghoon puckers his lips in anticipation of a kiss to which you gladly oblige, pressing your lips to his in a sweet, lingering kiss. The brief moment of affection leaves you both with a warm, fluttering feeling in your chests. With a final smile and a promise to meet you outside, he disappears to change, leaving you to gather your books and laptop.

Packing the last of your highlighters into your bag, you hear the entrance door open. Peeking over the seats, you see a familiar face walking down with his gym bag slung over his shoulder and earphones in.

"Minhee?" you question, hoisting your bag onto your shoulder before walking over to him. "Mini?" you call out louder, ensuring he hears you.

Your brother jumps a little, clearly not expecting to see you at the rink. "What are you doing here?" he asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Sunghoon's taking me for dinner. I was just studying while he trained," you explain, hoping to alleviate any concerns he might have.

Your reasoning earns a thoughtful hum from Minhee. It's still strange to talk about Sunghoon so casually with him, especially after keeping your relationship a secret for all those months.

"Is he here?" Minhee glances around, searching for any sign of Sunghoon.

"He's getting changed," you reply, nervously biting your lip. Despite Minhee giving you the green light for dating, there's still a lingering apprehension about them being in the same room together, especially after "skate gate," as Sunghoon dubbed it in an attempt to lighten the situation.

There is still some part of you that dreads them in the same room together, apprehensive to what they’ll do. Minhee is overprotective of you and Sunghoon is, well, he’s got a wrap on his ankle thanks to your brother.

Suddenly, the door to the dressing room swings open, and Sunghoon emerges, looking refreshed and ready for your dinner date. His expression is bright, his tunnel vision for you renders Minhee nonexistent to him. It’s not until he gets closer that he notices your older brother.

Once his eyes shift to Minhee, Sunghoon’s smile falters ever so slightly. He also doesn’t know how things will pan out but he knows he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“Minhee,” Sunghoon nods towards him which Minhee returns, “Are you training tonight?” You appreciate the civilness your boyfriend is trying to engage in, you know he’s doing it for you but hopefully, later on, he’ll do it because he and Minhee are actually getting along.

You can only dream of the day.

“Yeah,” he says sharply but there’s a wave of something in his eyes, something that happens when he’s thinking, “Actually, since you’re here can I talk to you? Privately,” Minhee glances at you as he says privately, indicating that he no longer wants you in the conversation.

Sunghoon looks to you for approval which you grant him obviously, hoping he’ll tell you what Minhee wants during dinner, “Sure. Coaches office is free,” he suggests, pointing with his head.

Your two boys stride over to the office and lock the door behind them.

Now, you could eavesdrop, and make sure no one throws a punch, but you’re trying to be optimistic about their relationship, so you leave them be.

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself to trust in their ability to handle the situation maturely. After all, both Sunghoon and Minhee care deeply for you, they wouldn’t want to make this any more uncomfortable for you.

Fighting the urge to pace, you take a deep breath and try to distract yourself with thoughts of the upcoming dinner. Maybe you’ll have a glass of wine with dinner tonight, and try something new. You could get dessert if you convince Sunghoon to cheat on his meal plan for a night.

Who are you kidding? All you can think about is what is going on in that office, no attempt at distraction will help you now.

It’s increasingly difficult for you to resist chapping the door and pestering them to let you in on the gossip. What could be so important they couldn’t talk about it in front of you?

15 minutes pass but it feels like an eternity as you anxiously await their return. If one of them comes out with a black eye, you’re ditching them both, leaving them high and dry. You really hope it doesn’t come to that.

Finally, the door to the coach’s office swings open, all limbs and eye sockets intact, which is a good sign at least; however, their expressions are unreadable as they walk towards you. There's a subtle shift in the air, something lingering between them, though they try to maintain a facade of normalcy.

"Ready to go?" Sunghoon asks, his tone gentle as he kisses the top of your head lightly.

You nod and look between both of them, “What did you guys talk about?” There’s no grace of subtlety when it comes to you and your curiosity; you know it has something to do with you, you just wanted to know what.

Minhee and Sunghoon exchange a knowing glance before your brother answers, “Just giving him some brotherly warnings…right?” he says it so casually but his tone is cryptic. You know there is more to it than that.

Linking your fingers with his, Sunghoon grips your hand tighter, offering you some reassurance amidst the swirling thoughts in your mind. He knows you're probably considering every possible conversation they could have had.

"Nothing to worry about, Sweets. Minhee was just swinging his big brother ego around," Sunghoon says, his voice gentle but firm. There's a playful twinkle in his eyes that eases your nerves, if only slightly.

Rolling his eyes, Minhee sighs, "Whatever, Park. Remember what I said, yeah?" he tries to pass it off as banter, but there's a serious current weaving through his voice, catching you off guard.

Sunghoon nods in acknowledgement, a silent knowing between them, "I got it," he replies, his gaze locked on Minhee with a sense of respect and understanding. This newfound dynamic between Sunghoon and Minhee is unfamiliar, and you can't quite decipher whether it's a positive or negative development.

"Enjoy your dinner, Bubs. Make sure he pays," Minhee points to Sunghoon before waving you both off and heading to the changing room.

As Sunghoon pulls at your hand, leading you out of the arena, the silence hangs heavy between you. He doesn't offer an explanation so easily, much to your dismay.

"Your brother is a shark, can I say that in the most respectful way?" Sunghoon finally speaks up, breaking the silence with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You chuckle softly, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, he's super protective," you acknowledge with a touch of pride in your voice.

"He really is. He’d do anything for you…" Sunghoon trails off, his expression thoughtful. You want to ask what he means but you resist the urge to pry further.

"Are you guys okay? You didn’t fight or anything?" you venture tentatively.

Sunghoon offers you a reassuring smile, his eyes warm with sincerity, "I think we're besties now," he quips, trying to lighten the mood. You can't help but smile at his attempt to ease your worries, "C'mon, let's go eat, I'm starving," he suggests, kissing you quickly as you reach his car.

You are grateful they managed to have one discussion without throttling one another, even going as far as to make lighthearted jokes and playful jabs.

Baby steps, you suppose.

_____

Emerging from the restaurant and making your way to Sunghoon's car, your face radiates with laughter, tears glistening in your eyes.

"Did you genuinely believe she was asking for your autograph?" you tease, barely able to contain your amusement.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, “Baby, it isn’t that funny. She literally ASKED me to sign it.”

“Yeah, the bill because you used your card,” as you say the words, another heaved laugh comes out, “You were so confident to think she was your fan.”

Crossing his arms, Sunghoon huffs playfully, feigning annoyance, but he can’t stop the smile from creeping on his face as he looks at you. With your face so bright and that beautiful song of your giggles, Sunghoon can’t stop looking at you, admiring you in this moment.

As your laughter subsides, you catch him staring at you intently. "What is it?" you inquire, noting the uncharacteristically serious expression on his face, devoid of its usual sarcastic pout in situations like these.

"I just love you so much..." he trails off, halting by the passenger door of his car, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "The thought of losing you was terrifying."

Sunghoon understands that you've both overcome the misunderstandings and manipulations caused by your mother, and you're in a better place now. Yet, the prospect of almost losing you because of it still haunts him.

You pout at his words, bringing your hands up to stroke the apple of his cheeks gently, “I hated it too. You’re so important to me, Hoonie,” you whisper, eyes softening at his words.

The months you’ve spent with him have been the best of your life, you could never deny that. Your relationship with him hasn’t been easy, interference from too many outside parties threatened to ruin it all, to rip you from your soulmate, but you will never let it happen again.

You place a timis kiss on his nose, “I promise that nothing will ever take me away from you again, okay?” you look at him with sincere eyes, hoping he truly listens to your promise.

He nods, closing his eyes with a serene smile, his graceful hands enveloping yours, imparting a comforting warmth. Foreheads touching, he savours the moment, soaking in the palpable connection between you both. He just wants to feel your love.

Never in Sunghoon’s life did he ever imagine finding love like this. Although he always knew he loved you, he didn’t know how intense his feelings were until suddenly you weren’t there anymore.

He smiles, eventually opening his eyes to look at you, your gaze holding nothing but love, “Will you come back to mine?” he asks as though this is the first date and he’s testing the waters to see if you’re interested.

“Actually,” you smile, pulling away from him slightly, your hands trailing down to fix the collar of his coat, “Minhee went out with Jungmo and my mum’s recently been going out at night so…”

Sunghoon's heart skips a beat at your implication, "Are you inviting me over?" he asks, his ears buzzing with anticipation.

You nod, a hint of nerves sneaking through as you bite your lip. "Yes, if you want to."

Considering the offer, he weighs the options carefully.

On the downside: it's a risk with your mum potentially returning home soon, the early morning departure could be awkward if he encounters your brother, and there's the potential for discomfort in the morning.

On the upside: it's a shorter drive to your place, he's curious about seeing your room, and it's the only location where he hasn't fucked you yet.

"Alright, let's go for it," he grins, the allure of the last pro eclipsing the rest.

Sunghoon opens the door for you and you settle into your seat and fasten your seatbelt while he slides into the driver's seat, starting the car.

As the car glides down the dimly lit streets, Sunghoon steals glances at you, a mixture of excitement and nervousness flickering in his eyes. The anticipation within him builds with every passing moment, the silence between you thick with unspoken desire.

With a playful smile, you break the tension, "Why do you look nervous?"

Sunghoon chuckles, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, "Not nervous, excited,” he corrects you.

You eye him up and down, “Okay then, why are you excited?”

Sunghoon lounges back as you hit a red light, taking the chance to look at you, “It’s like I’m entering enemy territory, like on those video games Jake plays all the time. I’m entering the red area, risking my life while I got on stealth mode,” he explains, getting even more giddy as he speaks about it.

“Hoonie, no one else will be home, I’m hardly sneaking you in.��

“Shhh, it’s no fun if you put it that way,” he chuckles, placing a hand on your thigh, “When I forward roll into your entrance, leave me be,” he plays.

Luckily for you, when you both arrive, Sunghoon refrains from spy rolling into your house like he’s an elite operative. Instead, he is waiting to be invited in like Stefan Salvatore.

“Baby, come on in, nothing gonna bite you,” you giggle as you take off your shoes.

Following your orders, he walks in and takes a look around the familiar entranceway. Nothing has changed since he was last here, just before your ceremony; aka, he’s noticed not one of your award pictures has taken pride of place next to your brothers.

You hadn't shown your mother the pictures, nor did she inquire about how it went. Her indifference was something you had learned to accept, albeit reluctantly. It wasn't the ideal situation, but like Sunghoon, you had found solace and love in other places where your mother left a void

Coming to that acceptance was cathartic.

You lead him up to your room, a bright smile on your face. It was surreal to have this opportunity to have him amongst your creature comforts, like finally all the pieces of your life have come together.

Sunghoon stops you as you go to reach for the handle, “Wait!” he rushes out. Inhaling deeply as he jitters around like a boxer about to walk into the ring, each little jump and hand tremor making you laugh. You would mistake it for nervousness again if he wasn’t beaming at the door like an idiot

“Will you calm down, this isn’t anything spectacular, It’s just my room,” you shake your head, looking at him as he continues his jumps of glee. Nothing you could say to him would stop him from acting like a child on Christmas morning, “You’re such a dork,” you snort, placing your hand on the handle.

Before opening the door, you mentally hope you tidied up before meeting him today. To your relief, the room is cleaner than you recall, albeit with a stray sock and some shoes strewn where your wardrobe is. You signal for Sunghoon to come, and he enthusiastically skips inside, looking about with inquiring eyes.

His attention moves across the shelves filled with books and trinkets, the cosy bed with its assortment of plushies, and the desk cluttered with papers and pens. Sharing this space with him creates a sense of intimacy and vulnerability, as well as elation among you both. Having him here feels like you can finally call this your home.

Sunghoon's smile widens as he takes it all in, his eyes sparkling with delight, "This is nice," he remarks, his voice soft with appreciation.

You nod, feeling a surge of happiness at his reaction, "I'm glad you think so," you reply, watching as he moves further into the room, exploring every nook and cranny as if it holds some secret treasure.

Just looking around your room is giving him further insight into your life. As your boyfriend, he knows a lot more than most, yet, seeing your soul laid bare in these four walls is opening him up to understand you deeper.

From the 2 minutes he has spent in your room, he has just found out that you collect far too many earrings, your favourite highlighter to use is pastel pink, you had an emo phase that you neglected to tell him, and you’ve been to 4 fan signs for TO1. It’s tiny, insignificant details, but Sunghoon wants to know it all.

His eyes happen to fall on a picture of you and Minhee when you were kids, “I remember this!” he exclaims, fangs showing as he twists the picture to show you as if you don’t see it literally every morning, “This was the Youth of Skating competition when we were 13,” he reminisces.

"Wasn't I just adorable?" you remark, playfully cupping your cheeks and flashing a wide grin as you try to mimic your younger self captured in the photo.

With a laugh, Sunghoon gently sets the frame back on your desk, nodding in agreement, “The prettiest one in the crowd by far,” he murmurs in a soft tone, mirroring your joy. It's as if your face radiates sunlight, and he basks in your vibrant glow.

Closing the distance between you, he replaces your hands with his own, leaning in to kiss you. His lips are tender as they meld with yours, his touch gentle as he affectionately squishes your cheeks, “You’re still the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”

Your heart quickens as he whispers sweet nothings into your mouth, his words mingling with the gentle exploration of his tongue, "I don't buy it," you tease, playfully pushing his hands away from your red cheeks, "You'll have to prove it to me," you challenge with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

A playful smirk dances across Sunghoon's lips as he accepts your challenge, his eyes sparkling with determination. With a soft chuckle, he gently captures your hands in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulls you closer.

"Oh, I intend to," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. Leaning in, he presses another lingering kiss to your lips, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Slowly, he trails his lips along your jawline, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses in his wake.

He takes off his jacket, tossing it on your desk chair all the while he’s nipping at your neck. As his hands swiftly remove his t-shirt, revealing his sculpted bare chest, your eyes are drawn to the faded hickeys scattered across his skin. You had really done a number on him a couple of weeks ago, the purple still tinting his pecks.

Before you can fully appreciate the sight, he bends down, effortlessly scooping you up, his lips showering kisses all over your face. Your breath catches at the warmth of his touch sending a flush to your cheeks, "Sunghoon," you gasp, feeling his urgency mirrored in your own desire.

Laying you gently on the bed, his chest pressed against yours, he trails his hands up and down your body, igniting flames of longing with each touch, "I know, Sweets," he murmurs, his voice laced with possessiveness, "You want me to fuck you, yeah? Prove to you that you’re the most gorgeous girl?"

“Yes,” you huff out desperately.

“Then be a good girl. You can do that for me, baby, can’t you?” he whispers into your neck, licking a stripe up your vein.

His words dance down to your pussy, arousal pooling between your legs as you eagerly nod in agreement. His confidence mixed with his praises only fuels your desire, the promise of being his good girl setting your pulse racing.

In a flurry of movement, his trousers and boxers are discarded, and he wastes no time in removing your jeans and underwear, leaving you bare and exposed to his hungry gaze. As he kisses up the tender skin of your inner thigh, his proximity to your centre sends waves of anticipation coursing through you.

“My beautiful girl, you’re all mine,” Sunghoon’s voice is low and smooth like butter.

The vibrations from his words send a jolt of need straight to your core, the ache for his touch almost unbearable. As he teasingly presses a delicate kiss to your clit, you whimper in longing, your body yearning for the fulfilment only he can provide.

His hands slide up to the top of your thighs, holding them down and apart as he nibbles gently at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. A shiver of anticipation courses through you as your hips instinctively push up, yearning for the touch of his mouth where you need it most.

Sunghoon responds with soft, warm kisses across your core, each one sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Then, with deliberate slowness, he traces his tongue upwards, sending a shudder of delight through you as he explores every inch of your pussy.

Kneading your hands through his hair, you grip tight as you beg for more and Sunghoon has no problem granting your wishes, kitten-licking your slit as he laps up your wetness.

When he is going down on you, he is like a man possessed but now it’s much worse. He hasn’t tasted your essence properly since the breakup/makeup. Your boyfriend doesn’t like to go too long without your taste on his tongue, so here he is making up for lost time as he lays his tastebuds flat against your cunt, savouring every drop of you.

You pull his head back by his hair, eliciting a moan from him as you do so, the sensation of each strand being in your command causes his dick to jump in, “Fuck, Sweets,” he hisses, licking his lips clean as he looks up at you through hooded eyes, “Tell me what you want.”

But he already knows what you want, because, without your answer, he’s gathering saliva in his mouth before spitting it on your throbbing pussy, his fingers lathering you in it, “Go on, tell me,” he mutters onto your clit, digging his teeth onto it just enough for you to buck your hips onto his face.

“Fingers, Hoonie, I want your fingers. Please,” you plead, holding your hips up to his mouth in a desperate attempt to get some release of your friction.

“Not only are you gorgeous,” Sunghoon’s fingers find their way to your entrance, circling it teasingly, “You’re my obedient, perfect girl.”

Sunghoon smoothly slides his fingers inside you, opening you up and filling you with a sweet sensation. His attention never leaves your face as he looks for your reactions, making every movement pleasurable for you.

He sees your lips falling wide and your head cocking back in ecstasy as an indication to continue. His fingers hook into you, gliding back and forth in a smooth and luring pace that matches the rhythm of your desire, and caressing you just the way you like it. Each stroke sends waves of pleasure through your body, creating a fire of passion that becomes hotter with each enticing movement.

You're a moaning mess as Sunghoon expertly finds your sweet spot, thrusting his fingers harshly as he works it with precision, "Let it all out, baby," he encourages, his voice sending your head into a tizzy, "Show me how I'm making you feel."

His words alone could send you tipping over the edge, but it's the sensation of his tongue flicking your clit and the gentle suction that has you screaming his name loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear. Sunghoon doesn't stop you, revelling in the melodic sound of his name falling from your lips like a symphony of desire.

"That's it, angel, you're doing so good for me," he praises, his words only spurring you on further. The two fingers inside you continue their relentless rhythm, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with each delicious stroke.

Your hands instinctively push him further into your cunt as you ride his face, Sunghoon's skilled ministrations bring you closer and closer to your climax, and his tongue and fingers dance in perfect rhythm, driving you to contentment with each delicious motion. The overwhelming sensation clouds your thoughts, leaving you lost in a haze of pleasure that makes your mouth water with anticipation.

With a final, electrifying thrust of his fingers and a gentle nibble at your clit, you hit the edge of release, your chest and tummy tightening. And then, with a guttural moan that bounces throughout the room, you finally succumb to the overwhelming wave of pleasure that crashes over you, leaving you trembling and breathless in its wake.

Sunghoon continues to worship you with his mouth and fingers, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm with tender care and devotion. Each touch, each kiss, each whispered word of praise only serves to deepen the connection between you.

He sucks and swallows your juices, smiling as he does so. Your walls have trapped his two digits inside you as you squeeze him tight, “Baby, relax for me,” he kisses up your stomach in an attempt to get your body to yield but your orgasm is too intense, “Shh, Y/N, breathe out for me beautiful,” he whispers as his face meets yours.

Opening your eyes, you see his gentle smile and etch a blissful one onto yours, his adoring gaze instantly rippling through your bones, helping your muscles to unknot themselves. The power he has over you is crazy.

"Told you I would prove it," Sunghoon chuckles softly, pressing a peck on the tip of your nose as he finally frees his hand from you. Shaking your head with a satisfied smile, you exhale deeply, prompting him to tilt his head inquisitively.

"Oh? Have I not done enough?" he questions, his expression filled with amusement.

"Nope," you reply smugly, popping the 'p' for emphasis, "You could do more to prove it."

Sunghoon feigns contemplation, his lips quirking to the side in mock thought, "I see, hmm…" he muses, his gaze scanning you from head to toe before he suddenly sits you up and onto his lap, taking your useless top off.

His favourite playthings are now sitting directly at eye level and Sunghoon feels spoilt for choice of what one to show attention to first. Left has always been his favourite, there wasn’t a particular reason as to why, he just instinctively went for it every time.

Before he can delve his mouth to attach to your perky nipple, you surprise him by gripping his shoulders with one hand while the other strokes his cock between your bodies. In reaction, his shoulders and back hunch over, his head now buried between your mounds.

Your slicked hand pumps him at a vicious pace, yet the gentleness of your hand causes no discomfort. After all these months together, you know how he likes it, fast and rough with extra attention to his tip; so that’s what you do, after every fourth stroke you swipe your palm over his head, the soft skin now tinted red with need.

“Sweets,” he murmurs between your breasts, his tongue licking the valley like a helpless dog, “Let me be inside you, fuck I need it so bad,” he almost whimpers as you squeeze him.

Part of you wants to keep going and tease him but your heat is leaking for him, crying out to be stuffed by his cock.

You lift your hips and guide him to your entrance, slowly sinking onto him, “Jesus,” you hiss out, his cock stretching you much wider than his previous fingers.

The pace you set is deliberate and unhurried as you savour the feeling of his thick shaft piercing into you, battering your cervix each time you slam down onto him. Sunghoon groans at the way your channel is enveloping him, moulding around him like a perfect fit.

With each withdrawal, the tip of his cock catches on your entrance, teasingly, before he plunges back in, eliciting desperate pleas for more from your lips, "Hoonie, please, faster," you beg, your desire driving you wild.

It’s time for Sunghoon to take charge, his hands clasp around your back as he pulls you further into his chest, gripping onto your skin as he goes at you relentlessly. He delves so deeply inside you that the sensation becomes overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and need. Sunghoon's hand moves from your back to brush against your overstimulated clit, sending jolts of electricity coursing through your body, causing you to writhe on his lap, "Sunghoon, please," you whimper, your voice laced with desperation.

"What is it, baby?" Sunghoon's voice, soft-spoken and tender, stands in stark contrast to the force of his thrusts, each one pounding relentlessly against your core.

"Close," you gasp out, the intensity of your impending climax threatening to overwhelm you once again. If it were any other time, you might feel embarrassed by how quickly you're reaching the peak of ecstasy, but you know Sunghoon would understand. And he does because he feels the same way.

Both of you have tangled in sheets for long enough that you both know one another’s body like the back of your hands. That, added in with the withdrawals, of course you were both cumming quickly. Neither of you particularly minded since it wasn’t exactly a hindrance but rather served as just another notch to add to the endless list of climaxes you could potentially have.

The day that one orgasm halts your sexcapades for the night, is the day Ghostface will stop being hot. Never.

Sunghoon spits on your folds, his movements primitive but intentional. His fingers rubbed saliva into your delicate skin, focusing their attention on your swollen clit, pushing you to the verge of your high. These sensations are almost too intense to take, with his rough touch on your bud and the power of his cock ramming into your walls battering you in the most delicious way possible.

The other hand on your back trails its way to your left hand, clasping it in his as he intertwines your fingers, kissing your knuckles as he stares at you, love shining through, “I love you so fucking much,” he whispers out, his hips faltering slightly as he declares his adoration for you.

Nodding, you bite your lip, prying your eyes open to look into his, “I love you too, Hoonie,” you confess back to him, hips also losing their rhythm as you struggle to focus on anything other than the coil in your stomach.

You bring your lips to his hand, mimicking his earlier actions, “Cum with me, Sunghoon,” you whisper into the back of his hand, your lips parted as you suck in a deep breath, ready for release.

Your body convulses with pleasure as waves of ecstasy wash over you, leaving you trembling and breathless in their wake. Sunghoon holds you close, his touch gentle yet possessive as he guides you through the aftershocks of your climax with tender care.

Sunghoon kisses you hungrily, his lips engulfing yours in a passionate embrace as your words push him over the edge. With feral zeal, he releases his seed in you, the white strands of his desire flying straight into your depths and blending with your own release.

Your bodies melt together in the heat of passion and you both cry one other's names along with a stream of curses, lost in the throes of pleasure and need. Sunghoon punctuates each passionate proclamation with two simple utterings of "I love you," ensuring that his words are conveyed sincerely

As you come down from the euphoric high, you find yourself enveloped in Sunghoon's embrace, his love and adoration surrounding you like a warm blanket on a cold night. In this moment, with him by your side, you feel truly complete, knowing that you are loved and cherished beyond measure.

Laying you down, Sunghoon, slides out of you gently, making sure he doesn’t hurt you, “Sweets, where is your bathroom?” he asks but you’re still too fucked out to comprehend his question, leaving him to figure it out on his own, “Stay here, baby, I’ll be back,” he instructs, putting on his boxers and tucking his semi-hard cock into them.

Leaning an ear to the door, Sunghoon assesses if anyone magically came home while you two were going at it like animals. The silence he hears elicits relief into his body as he opens the door, confident no other member of the Kang family will see his practically naked figure.

Opening a few doors through trial and error, he stumbles into Minhee’s room. The curiosity within him leads him to look around, hand searching for the light. Once he switches it on, he sees exactly what he was expecting, a clutter of mess placed in every corner. It’s similar to his room, decor-wise, but there’s one thing that he notices, standing prominent on Minhee’s nightstand.

Sunghoon reaches for the picture of you at 3 years old, sleeping next to your older brother, hugging one another tightly. You’re wearing matching pyjamas and smiles with no cares in the world. He knows your bond with Minhee is strong, stronger than most siblings; he thinks perhaps that’s why it was so easy to forgive you for lying to him. Seeing this picture now only punctuates his thoughts.

And after his conversation with Minhee today, he knows you would both do anything to protect one another.

“What are you doing in here?” you ask, hugging him from behind. Your eyes stare at the picture in the frame and you laugh, “Oh my days, Minhee and I were so young back then,” you fondly pout.

Sunghoon wraps an arm around your shoulder, “I was looking for the bathroom to get you cleaned up but I came across his room,” he admits sheepishly, rubbing your shoulder.

“Hmm,” you acknowledge, taking the frame and placing it back on the desk. You pause your motions as you look around his desk. It had been a long time since you had been in your brother's room, possibly 2 years, but you don’t remember all of the clutter on his worktop.

Picking up the paper fortune teller, you can't help but laugh at the whimsical relic of your childhood, "I didn't know he kept all this stuff," you say wistfully, your fingers tracing the faded creases of the paper. Memories flood your mind as you recall the countless hours spent crafting these simple yet cherished treasures with your brother.

Your gaze then falls upon the painting, a colourful masterpiece that holds a special place in your heart despite its simplistic charm. "And look at this," you remark, your voice tinged with nostalgia. "I remember making this in nursery. It was supposed to be a house, but I’m clearly no Picasso," you chuckle, the memory bringing warmth to your heart.

Putting it back, you see the picture you sent him from your award ceremony, sitting proudly next to his mouse, “He printed this out?” you ask no one, “I thought this would be the last picture he would want to see every day.”

The picture didn’t just represent your achievement, it represented the lies you sat in for months without Minhee knowing. This picture was amongst the bunch that had you and Sunghoon sitting happily in love, an accidental click that exposed your deceit.

Sunghoon kisses your temple, “He’s proud of you, baby,” he says, trying to ease your tense shoulders, “That night, sure, the aftermath was a shitshow. But you still achieved something amazing, and he’s proud.”

His words lighten you a little, a smile creeping on your face as you put it back. Shaking your emotions away, you look up at your boyfriend, “Let’s get out of here, I’ll show you where the bathroom is.” You push him out of Minhee’s bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“While you’re up,” Sunghoon follows you, hand in yours, “Why don’t we just take a shower?” he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

You roll your eyes and open up the bathroom door, “Fine, but only quickly, last time I started to shrivel up like a prune with how long you kept me in there,” you joke, turning the light on.

Sunghoon smirks, “I promise, I’ll be quick,” he leans down to your ear, “I’ll just make sure I go at you rough and hard, hmm?”

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #aj writes #melting point #enhypen angst

545 notes · View notes

nadvs · 2 months ago

Text

out of bounds (part three)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one | two

» masterlist

Zach regrets coming to your cabin last night.

Not because your boss stopped by. Early this morning, he ran into Ruby and she didn’t even mention catching you together after hours. She doesn’t suspect a thing.

He should’ve known that she wouldn’t think he was breaking any rules. He has a reputation for being responsible.

He regrets coming over because now, when he sees you from across the loud dining hall at breakfast, he can’t reign in his rushing thoughts about last night.

You’d stood over him as he sat and his hands were on his knees, nearly brushing against your legs, and it wouldn’t have taken much effort at all to run his palms over your thighs as your fingertips ghosted over his face.

You looking down at him like that, having full control over him, stirred something deep in his core. The way you touched him was innocent, but it made his body tense with desire. You were so close to him, your presence so intoxicating.

He fell asleep thinking about your time alone in your cabin, but instead of remembering the reality of you stepping away, he imagined you straddling him in the chair he was sitting in, pressing your lips against his, and giving him permission to run his hands over your curves.

Zach looks down at his plate. He’s sure he’s blushing. It’s insane how fast his mind has run away from him. His longing for you is starting to feel like a need, like he might feel actual pain if he doesn’t get to touch you in some way.

But it’s not allowed. And besides, if it was, even though you’ve definitely been flirting with him, you might not even like him that much. Maybe if he asked if he could kiss you or touch you, you’d tense up and look at him with distaste. He’d hate to make you feel uncomfortable.

He clears his throat and tries to focus on work. Oliver is actually eating a decent amount for once. He’s still not really talking, but he seems a little more at ease.

Zach has to thank you for helping him figure out that apparently, the kid is very particular about his appetite. He’s excited he’ll have a chance to do so when you run morning drills together.

After breakfast, as scheduled, you approach the west field with your girls following closely behind, listening to them chatter about the weird dreams they had last night.

Seconds later, one of them calls your name.

“Yeah?”

“Who are we running drills with now?”

“Zach’s group,” you say. A couple of girls giggle.

“He’s so cute,” one of them says quietly. You look ahead. They obviously have a crush on him. So do you.

You’re kind of nervous to see him considering how tense things got last night, but when he spots you, he smiles, and it brushes away all your worry.

“About time,” Zach playfully scoffs when you reach him, his campers jogging up and down the pitch.

“What’d you wait, like two minutes?” you reply, dropping the bag of supplies you’re carrying.

“Hi, Zach,” one of your campers sing-songs, earning her friends’ laughter.

“Hi,” he says kindly. “You ready for some passing drills?”

You smile to yourself. He’s totally oblivious to the fact that he has almost every girl on this campground smitten.

After you finish setting up cones and soccer balls across the field, you stand next to Zach at the touchline. As the vet, he takes the lead, shouting instructions to the group of 18 kids.

You glance at him every so often, pretending you’re following along, when really, you’re thinking about last night. Every word and every touch you shared was light and friendly, but it was all over an undercurrent of tension.

You look out at the kids again, reminding yourself that you need to keep things professional, no matter how charming he is.

After the blow of Zach’s whistle, you walk along the line of campers practicing passing, arms crossed as you focus on their footwork. You offer compliments and suggestions as you pace up the field, and minutes later, you join Zach at the side again.

“So, is it working?” he asks. “Do you like soccer again?”

You smile. He remembers how you told him that part of the reason you came to work here was to rekindle your love for the sport.

Even though the job is tiring, you have enjoyed it quite a lot. It’s refreshing seeing kids get excited about soccer the same way you used to. It’s a good reminder of why you started playing.

“Yeah,” you say, your tone soft as you look out at the deep green pitch. “I came to the right place.”

Zach’s eyes trail over your profile. He couldn’t agree more.

A few minutes later, Oliver breaks out of the line and approaches you.

“Hey, buddy,” Zach says. He’s dreading that he’ll tell him he wants to sit out yet again.

“Can I have some water?” he asks. Zach realizes he’s looking up at you, clearly having found some comfort in you.

“Of course,” you say, fishing out a bottle from the cooler. “Did you like the waffles this morning?”

“Yeah,” he says timidly. “Thanks.”

“It was all Zach,” you say. “He’s the one who bought them and got up early to make them. I think you got the best counselor here.”

Oliver looks up at Zach with a small smile. It’s the first look of genuine happiness he’s seen on the boy’s face. After he drinks water, he rushes back out onto the field.

“I didn’t mean it,” you tease Zach. “You’re the worst.”

He laughs and resists the urge to playfully push your shoulder. Getting close to you is a bad idea, because he’ll only want more.

“You’re good with kids,” he says. He can’t help but think about you meeting his sister. He knows she’d like you. “Pretty sure that’s the first time he smiled since he got here.”

You were expecting him to tease you back, so the sincere compliment throws you. You meet his eyes, feeling the same sense of easy compatibility you felt last night.

The morning sun washes over his features in its orange glow. He’s so handsome that you almost forget you shouldn’t be staring.

“So, I’m better at this job than you are?” you say.

“Okay, whoa,” he replies. “I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“Did not.”

You share a moment of laughter, but once it fades, you don’t look away from each other. Your heart starts to speed up like it always does when he gazes at you.

It feels like an elephant in the room, what happened the last time you spoke, and you desperately want to clear the air.

“Everything good after last night? You seemed…” You don’t want to use the word nervous. And upset doesn’t feel right, either. You decide not to finish the sentence. “Did you talk to Ruby?”

“She didn’t think anything was up,” he tells you. You sigh in relief, glad your jobs and reputations aren’t in jeopardy. “I mean, not that anything was up.”

You slowly nod, not sure how to take his words. Maybe it really was all in your head. Maybe your feelings are totally unrequited.

Zach catches the way your lips twist. He immediately feels anxious. He doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. And he definitely doesn’t want you to think he feels nothing for you.

“I mean,” he stammers, “that’s not what I mean.”

His muscles lose some tension when he sees you crack a smile.

“So, what do you mean?” you ask.

Zach looks down, digging the tip of his sneaker into the grass simply to have something to do as nerves fill his body. You have a ridiculous effect on him.

“Just that we weren’t breaking any rules.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “But, uh, if there was a rule I’d break…”

Your skin flushes, butterflies going wild in your stomach. He’s saying it without saying it.

“Same,” you reply. His gaze darts up to you. A pink hue spreads over his cheeks.

You both just indirectly confessed your feelings for one another and there’s nothing you can do about it. You blink a few times as you gaze at him.

“God,” he mutters with a half-laugh. “Don’t do that.”

“I literally didn’t do anything.”

“You’re…” He sighs and crosses his arms. “Looking at me like that.”

You tear your eyes off of him, stifling your smile.

“Like a coworker, you mean?” you reply. “Professionally?”

He laughs again, unsure of how the hell he’s going to last the rest of the camp season wanting a girl and knowing she wants him back and having to pretend like none of that’s true.

After the passing drill, you work on defense with your campers while Zach works on offense with his, then switch. For the last drill, you set up games of two-on-two.

You’re winded when you’re behind the touchline again, having run a drill with every girl in your group in quick succession. You’re downing water when Zach jogs up to you.

“Hey, your…” he says, pointing down. “I’ll just do it.”

In a second, he’s on his knee in front of you, tying your loose shoelace. You swallow your water, looking down, wondering how nice it’d feel to have your fingers in his tousled hair.

“Thank you,” you say, still a bit breathless.

He looks up with a smile. Your stares linger and then he straightens, standing beside you. And you’re supposed to keep your distance from this man? It’ll be impossible.

The rest of the day is a tiring blur. After dinner, you find Ami to remind her that you’re on one of the overnight shifts, so if she wants to see Malcolm after hours, your cabin will be free.

You only really do it for Zach’s sake so that he doesn’t get kicked out of his cabin again. Before you head over to one of the girls’ cabins to sleep, you text him: just so you know, i made sure ami knows i’m on an overnight so if she needs an empty cabin tonight, it won’t be yours.

Zach replies a few minutes later: You’re the best.

Then, a second text from him comes in: Professionally.

Over the next few days, your encounters with Zach are quick and friendly. He’s keeping his distance just like you are, avoiding any opportunity to have time alone.

It’s not until Friday afternoon, day seven of camp, that you’re scheduled to work another drill together.

When you meet Zach at the pitch, you’re endeared to see that Oliver is actually talking with him. As you approach, directing your girls to line up for a dribbling drill, you overhear them talking about video games.

“You can’t even get past the second one?” Oliver says.

“Does it count if my sister helps?”

“No!”

“Then, no,” Zach replies.

“But it’s so easy,” he says. “And you’re so old.”

“Alright, ten laps just for that,” Zach jokes. Oliver laughs and you smile to yourself.

“You are old,” you say to Zach when you approach them at the touchline.

“We’re the same age,” he replies.

“That’s irrelevant,” you say, then look to Oliver. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” he says. “We saw a badger yesterday. He was huge.”

“I hope he didn’t get too close.”

“Zach didn’t let us chase him,” Oliver complains.

“Probably a good thing,” you giggle, your eyes flitting up to meet Zach’s gaze.

You smile at him and even though it’s only been a few days since you had a proper conversation, he really misses seeing that smile.

Your campers settle into their own drills before merging, giving you and Zach a chance to chat privately.

“He’s really opened up,” you say, standing next to him.

“Yeah. He’s still not talking much with any of the other kids, but we talk all the time.”

“Baby steps,” you say, smiling as you watch Oliver practicing backheel kicks with another boy.

“I asked him if he’s making any friends, but he didn’t really answer,” Zach says. “I have a bad feeling they’re being rough on him and I don’t see it. I hope I’m wrong.”

“I hope you’re wrong, too,” you say sadly.

Zach gazes at you again, heart pinching from the way you frown at the thought.

“Tomorrow should be fun,” he says, changing the subject. “It’s a good break for us.”

You nod. Saturdays at camp are dedicated to fun instead of training, with plans to have a barbecue lunch by the lake, where campers will be free to swim and canoe.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you say. “Oh, have you been kicked out of your cabin lately?”

“I gave Malcolm a cut-off,” Zach tells you. “So, if he does need the place, there’s a time limit. Felt like a decent enough compromise.”

You’re glad he’s not having issues with his friend, but you do sort of wish he had an excuse to visit you when your cabin-mates are hooking up.

“Good,” you say simply.

Zach’s smile is tight, knowing you’re just trying to keep a professional distance like he is. But this sucks.

He refocuses on work.

“I was thinking of doing a round of Four Goal,” Zach says, pointing at the field. You nod, well acquainted with the games at this point, but still appreciative you get paired with vets for the support.

“But, they’ve been doing a lot of possession drills lately,” he adds. “Maybe Airball would be better.”

You glance at him to see the same pensive expression you’ve seen before. His indecisiveness is so cute.

“I can decide for you,” you say. He smirks, thinking back to that night in your cabin.

“Have I told you that you’re bossy?” he says.

“You have,” you reply, tapping his name-tag. “We’re playing Four Goal.”

“Deal,” he says with a chuckle, appreciative of how quick you are to choose. “You wanna take the lead?”

“Sure,” you say.

Before you can blow your whistle to get everyone’s attention, two of your campers come to grab water. You can tell by the way they’re eyeing Zach that they came solely to talk to him.

“Hey, Zach?” one of your girls says just loud enough to be heard over the shouting on the field.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

You’ve never been so glad that some preteen girls can be so unabashed, curious to hear how he’ll answer this.

“No way. There’s no time for girlfriends,” he says. “I’m married to this beautiful sport.” You smile, admiring how appropriately he handles the kid’s intrusive question.

Both girls giggle and rush back into the field.

“You realize that like, all the girls have a crush on you, right?” you laugh.

Before you step forward to call over all the campers on the field, Zach can’t hold himself back from flirting with you.

“I only care about if one girl has a crush on me,” he says quietly.

Your lips quirk into another smile.

“She does,” you say.

Zach purses his lips, blushing again.

You call over the campers and set up the game of Four Goals quickly. Within minutes, four teams are scattered across the field, attacking and defending goals.

You pace up and down the field on one side while Zach supervises in the other direction. Moments later, he raises his voice in a way you haven’t heard before.

“I don’t want to hear it again,” he says sharply to two boys. You realize that Oliver is standing to the side, arms crossed, looking down, and you rush over.

“We were just kidding,” one of the boys whines.

When you get close enough, you see Oliver’s eyes welling with tears, surely from whatever the boys said to him. It makes your heart ache instantly. You approach him and lead him off the field.

“You weren’t,” Zach says behind you. “That’s unacceptable.”

You lead Oliver to the main office, curious as to what was said, but not wanting to push.

You trained for this. In times of conflict between campers, one counselor should address the problem, and the other should separate the kids involved.

“You okay?” you ask softly, crouching down to his eye-level. Oliver only leans against you, sniffling. You gently pat his shoulder, letting him cry for as long as he needs to.

You confirm with Zach over the walkies that you’ll meet in the dining hall for dinner. When you make it to the building, you see him settle at the head of his table, clearly having instructed the two boys who were in trouble earlier to sit right next to him.

You ask Oliver where he’d prefer to sit. He tells you he wants to be at your table. Zach flashes you a small, grateful smile once he sees you sitting with Oliver, who keeps his head down, acting just like he did when he first got here.

Zach approaches Oliver as dinner wraps up and while you hang out with Ami by the dock during free-time, Zach sits next to Oliver at the campfire. You’re relieved when you see Oliver finally smiling again.

After lights out, Zach leaves his cabin to sit on the dock for some time alone. Minutes later, his phone buzzes with a text from you: i hope everything’s ok.

He looks up at the starry sky, wishing he could shake the heaviness sitting on his shoulders. Something that he lived through years ago was dug up today, a pale memory made fresh and cutting.

He never liked the discomfort that came with negative emotions and bad memories. It’s why he prefers to focus on having fun in the here and now.

But when he does find himself in this hole, he typically isolates himself, feeling like a burden for being anything but happy, so it’s jarring that while he doesn’t let many people see this part of him, he thinks about you sitting next to him right now.

You’re relaxing in your cabin when Zach texts you: Can you come to the dock?

The evening air is cool when you step outside. As you approach the lake, you see Zach’s broad frame in the distance, sitting at the end of the dock.

You settle beside him on the hard cedar wood, noticing that his work clothes have been swapped out for sweats and a t-shirt.

“Hi,” you say over the sound of the lake lapping against the rocks lining the shore and crickets chirping around you.

“Hey.” His eyes meet yours. They don’t have the brightness you’re used to seeing in them.

In any other scenario, you’d be worried about what sitting next to each other like this looks like to anyone who might see. But Zach’s clearly unhappy and the last thing you’re thinking about is your job right now.

“What happened?” you ask, replaying how sternly he snapped at his campers just a couple of hours ago.

Zach sighs and shakes his head, looking out at the lake.

“They were giving him crap for being shy,” he mumbles. “Calling him mute and mocking him, asking if he even knows how to talk. They didn’t know I was close enough to hear.”

Your forehead crinkles, your heart aching for Oliver all over again.

“Thanks for removing him from all that,” Zach tells you.

“Of course. I wish I could’ve done more,” you say. “He wouldn’t tell me anything, so I let him hug me until he stopped crying.”

“He just needed someone to be there,” Zach says. “And you were.”

You find relief in his words.

“He looked like he was feeling much better when you were by the fire,” you say, hoping to console him.

Zach nods gratefully and looks up at the crescent moon.

“Kids can be harsh,” he tells you. “Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, there’s bullying here. It sucks.”

He breathes out slowly, linking his fingers together. He’s in his head again. In the past. The bitter pain he’s feeling right now is another version of what he felt when he was a kid.

“He needs all the support he can get,” Zach says. “And you’ve been trying to help him since he came here. He’s not even in your group. You didn’t have to do all that, but you did.”

From the tone of his voice, you can tell he’s building up to something. He keeps his gaze fixed ahead, the moon and stars reflecting over the smooth plane of water.

Zach thinks back to the way you approached Oliver at breakfast on the second day of camp. He couldn’t make out your conversation, but he saw the pure kindness in your expression.

“I came here when I was a kid because my parents didn’t know what to do with me,” he admits. “I had no interests. No friends. I was really quiet and really shy.”

You tilt your head, your throat tight. You can’t imagine happy, outgoing Zach being anything but the life of the party like he is now.

“Kids at school would say the same kind of stuff to me that they said to Oliver today,” Zach explains.

He clenches his jaw as he thinks about the way he used to feel on the playground, being berated by other boys and pretending like he didn’t hear them.

“I’m so sorry,” you say quietly.

“I’m such a buzzkill,” he says with a humorless chuckle. “I just - I’m telling you this so you know that when you try to make a kid feel welcome, it makes a difference. Thank you for everything you do for him.”

Zach finally looks at you, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“My aunt and uncle ran this camp for as long as I can remember. My mom called them the summer I turned eleven, asking if they had space for me here. She just wanted me to find a hobby, you know? Something I liked. Even though I had no interest in sports at all.”

“But you ended up loving it,” you realize, a small smile growing on your face. The night you met, he said something about how he owed this place a lot. Now you know why.

“I did,” he says with a nod. “Don’t get me wrong, a lot of my teachers tried to make me feel better, but it never worked. Here… I belonged. I came out of my shell. People were nice to me. I fell in love with soccer and it’s why I come back every year.”

You don’t have the words to express how touching it is that he decided to share this with you, so you gently grip his forearm, stroking his soft skin with your thumb.

Then, you pull away, because now, the need to keep things strictly friendly is a thousand times heavier.

He doesn’t follow rules simply because of his tenure or because the directors are his family. It’s because of the impact they had, pulling him out of a dark place as a child. He probably feels like he owes them the world. He has a reputation, and a responsibility, to uphold.

“I’m so happy for you that you found this place,” you say. “And you help him, too, okay? A lot. Everything you did just to get him a breakfast he’d like is evidence enough.”

Zach breathes a quiet chuckle, his brows drawing together.

“Thanks, newbie,” he says.

“I’m sure it was really shitty hearing that stuff today,” you empathize. “Especially here. I’m sorry.”

He nods. You get how painful it is for him to see the beauty of this place be sullied. You get how important it is to be there for the kids who are outsiders.

He hates this walk down memory lane. While he doesn’t regret opening up, he needs a break from the tension, to come back to the present.

“You didn’t have to stop,” he says, eyes drifting to his forearm, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

You laugh, putting your palm on Zach’s skin again. He feels like he’s floating. He loves being touched and wants nothing more than to be touched by you.

“I don’t know how professional we’re being right now,” you say with a giggle.

“You kidding?” he says. “This is the definition of professional.”

Zach’s eyes wash over your face, looking at you like he’s in awe. He’s so happy that he met you and so frustrated that it had to be while you both live in the confines of workplace rules.

“In six weeks,” he says, “when the season’s over, what do you think about getting dinner with me?”

“It’s a date,” you say.

Another moment of peaceful quiet settles between you. He parts his lips to say something else, but no words come out.

“What?” you ask.

Zach sighs slowly, shaking his head ever so slightly. He runs his tongue between his lips. His stare drifts to your mouth. He feels completely helpless in the best way.

Slowly, he brings his hand up to your jaw, cradling your cheek so warmly and gently that your breath catches.

“Can I?” His voice is low and raspy, just loud enough to be heard over the crickets.

Even though you promised each other you wouldn’t do this, you couldn’t turn down his kiss if you tried.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His lips are soft and warm, pressing against yours with such sweet tenderness that your body goes numb. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re afraid you won’t be able to stop.

Zach pulls back, his nose nudging against yours.

“We should stop,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” he says. “We should.”

But you lean in to kiss him again, your lips slowly parting, tongues meeting, tasting each other. You separate.

“This is a bad idea,” you whisper.

“Mhm.”

He kisses you for a third time, your lips smacking together with hunger and impatience. His body is on fire, never having wanted somebody this badly.

“Zach,” you say, finally finding the willpower to sit up, losing all contact with him. “We can’t. It’s too risky.”

“I know,” he mumbles. “I know.”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Now that you know his history, you care more about him keeping his job than you do your own. “Six weeks. That’s all.”

“Fuck,” he whispers with a dry laugh. “That feels like forever.”

It’s the first time you’ve heard him swear and it’s unexpectedly attractive. You shuffle a few inches away from him, catching your breath, and take in his strong features in the moonlight, wishing you could go back to his cabin or yours and continue this.

“It does,” you agree, your eyes trained on him.

“You have to promise me you won’t look at me like that at work,” Zach says, his tone light. “For real.”

“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say. “But you know what? I won’t look at you at all. How’s that?”

You stare forward at the gentle ripples in the water, your lips still warm from his kiss.

“That’s worse,” he says with a hint of a whine in his voice.

“There’s no winning with you,” you laugh.

You look over your shoulder, making sure nobody is around to witness you two alone like this.

“You can go if you’re worried,” he says after a moment.

You give him a quick peck on the cheek before you stand. He watches you disappear off the dock, leaving him with a yearning he’s never had to bear before.

When Zach lies in bed that night, replaying how mind-blowing it felt to kiss you, he accepts the fact that the rest of the season will be torture. Six weeks does in fact feel like an eternity.

The summer heat is harsh the next morning, perfect for a day at the lake. Counselors lead their campers to the water after breakfast, not backing down when some kids inevitably argue that they don’t need life jackets.

When you spot Oliver alone, throwing rocks in the water, you imagine Zach at his age, dealing with bullies, feeling lost and alone.

You approach him, exchanging kind hello’s, and an idea strikes you. One of your campers, Jemma, is one of the chattiest and kindest kids you’ve ever met.

“What do you think about going out on the canoe with me and Jemma?” you ask Oliver, pointing to the girl as she rifles through inflated toys. “She’s very nice.”

“Sure,” he says quietly.

When you ask Jemma if she’d like to go with you two, as expected, she happily accepts.

You lead conversation between them as you set out on the canoe, but Jemma soon dives into asking Oliver questions. His answers are short, but it doesn’t faze her, allowing her to ramble to her heart’s delight.

Every so often, you catch a smile on Oliver’s face, clearly happy he’s not expected to talk a lot. Eventually, his answers to her questions get longer, and he starts asking her things, too.

When you dock the boat about ten minutes later, you look up to see Zach leaning forward, holding the brim of the canoe against the dock, meeting your eyes.

“Why are you stealing my friend?” Zach asks you, nodding to Oliver.

“He’s my friend, too,” you reply, looking at the boy. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he says with a smile.

“Mine, too!” Jemma exclaims. Your heart warms when you see Oliver blush.

Once Zach helps the kids out of the boat, they run off together in their matching bright-orange life jackets.

“How’d you do that?” Zach says.

You smile, taking his hand as he helps you step up onto the dock. Just last night, you were kissing right where you’re standing. You quickly pull your hand back so nobody suspects anything.

“It was a long shot,” you tell him, “but it seems it worked.”

Zach smirks, feeling his chest tighten as he stares at you. Staying away from you is ridiculously hard.

“You think anybody would notice if I kissed you right now?” he asks quietly, heavy-lidded eyes travelling over your face.

You laugh and look around at the crowds of campers and counselors surrounding the lake.

“Think so,” you reply. “You can kiss me in six weeks.”

“Six weeks,” he echoes with a sigh.

Tom fires up the grill outside the dining hall as counselors help set up for a lunch picnic. Zach’s close by, bumping against you as he puts out stacks of paper plates. He keeps his eyes low, but you can tell by his dimpled smirk that he’s touching you on purpose.

As you pass by a table to move the cooler, a few kids playing tag dart by you, tripping you up and causing you to lose your balance.

You involuntarily yelp when you feel a sharp sting on your arm, realizing you just made direct contact with the scalding barbecue hood.

“Come on, guys!” Zach calls tersley. “Look where you’re going!”

You look down at the underside of your forearm, blowing on the burn.

“You alright?” Tom asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll go run it under some cold water.”

Zach wishes he could follow, but it’d be too obvious.

You reassure your coworkers that you’re okay when you come back, loud enough to make sure Zach hears you. You’re still flattered by his protective reaction.

After lunch, the kids go back to their day of fun, most of them swimming. Dinner is quieter than usual, likely because the campers are so tired out.

Once lights out hits, you’ve never been happier to be done with the day. You enter your cabin, which is dark and quiet because Ami has already settled across the campground for her overnight shift.

You sigh in relief once you’re in the shower, washing away the sweat and grime of the day, planning to do nothing but rest tonight. The burn on your arm stings under the water, so you do your best to keep it dry.

You’re lounging in bed in your empty cabin, still in your towel, when you hear a knock at the door.

You open it to see Zach standing there, his hair wet, his college t-shirt draped over his wide shoulders as he holds out something in his hand.

“Just thought I’d…” Zach’s eyes travel down your body. He’s never seen this much of your skin, the towel offering a view of your cleavage and your bare legs. “Uh…”

“Yeah?” you laugh.

“This,” he says. He holds out a small tube of cooling gel. “For your burn. It was in the kitchen’s first aid kit.”

“Thank you,” you say, taking the tube. “That’s sweet of you. It still hurts a little.”

You look down at your forearm as Zach rests a hand on the doorframe, leaning over as he stares at you. You feel warm from the way he towers over you, gazing at you in pure desperation.

You shouldn’t invite him in. It’s a risk. There would be no going back. But the way he looks so hungry for you, the way he smells like fresh laundry and strong body wash is so painfully enticing.

His heartbeat is loud in his ears. He’s still processing a lot. How good your lips felt against his last night. How angry he was when you got hurt earlier today. And now, how very close to being completely naked you are. This is absolutely impossible.

He’s looked at you this way before, but this is a new level of intensity, making your skin prick with excitement. The thoughts of what could happen if he came in rush through your mind.

“Why do I feel like we won’t make it to six weeks?” you say meekly.

“We gave it a solid effort,” he says.

“It’s been one day,” you laugh.

“And do you have idea how hard that day’s been for me?” Zach says, making you laugh again. “We’ll just do a really good job keeping it a secret. If you want to.”

You smile again. But, you can’t do it.

“We shouldn’t,” you force yourself to say.

He nods, trying to hide how sad he is.

“Right. Yeah,” Zach says as he steps back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you reply. “I just… I would hate it if you got fired because of me.”

“If I got fired, it’d be my fault. Not yours.” His lips curl in nervousness before he says his next words. “And you’re worth the risk.”

Your eyes are hard on each other, both of you fully aware that you’re close to teetering into dangerous territory.

Finally, you say the words that he’s been aching to hear.

“You want to keep it a secret?” you say.

“Yeah. Do you?”

You nod, your eyes wide.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

You glance past him into the dark to make sure nobody else is witnessing the second you officially lose all of your willpower.

“Come in,” you say.

(part four)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#and i sincerely apologize for ending it there #zach maclaren and reader #zach maclaren and you #zach maclaren and y/n #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x reader

240 notes · View notes

corseque · 22 days ago

Text

I wanted to make a last-minute prediction post based on what I’ve seen so far. I haven’t looked at new Dragon Age news for the past couple (3? 4?) weeks, and I know I’m (on purpose to avoid spoilers) missing some (probably a lot of) details that other people already know. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW. So if I’m already right or wrong about something,

PLEASE please DON’T TELL ME.

You can come back in a month and tell me THEN. It’s just one more month to wait.

Also, this is just for fun, and it’s not serious. It’s based on vibes and also based on what I would write myself. I have developed a surprisingly specific image of what might happen to Solas and I’m just want to write it down.

I’m thinking “there is no possible way this is right………” but then I’m like “unless…..?” so a vague chance of potential spoilers

First, I’ve been suspicious about the elven gods getting free and Solas being trapped. If you think about what Solas says in Trespasser, it’s very

Part of Solas’ aim that has so far been revealed to us is he likely wants the Veil torn down, and one of the only things that is keeping him from that is the reality of the elven gods trapped in there, who would be released.

Inquisitor: “If you destroyed the Veil, wouldn’t the false gods be freed?”

Solas: “I had plans.”

But that is no longer a concern from that moment in the gameplay trailer where they are released.

“I intend to restore them. Doing so will most likely destroy your world.”

Two elven gods rampaging across Thedas sounds like the kind of “the world is being destroyed” situation Solas was talking about. It is his incision that breached their prison, and it isn’t impossible that Rook may have been almost manipulated into completing it. I wonder if Solas is playing his two sets of enemies against each other yet again?

In the old tales, Solas uses his enemies to fight each other while he is tied to a tree, trapped. He gives both sides equal advice until they are both defeated, at which point he frees himself and finishes what he set out to do.

Honestly, even though he’s “trapped,” it sounds exactly like the sort of thing that needs to happen for his work to continue.

(All of this is speculation that I think I’ll have a better idea about once I hear the full first conversation with him, and exactly how he words his point of view of what happened. If he’s very squirrelly in his wording, I’ll know he may have caused it on purpose.)

“I seek regeneration,” he said in Vows & Vengeance. The devs had said that Solas has been bringing back magic for centuries before the series even started. Perhaps it explains why the dragons have returned. It seems that his reshaping the world, regenerating it, will be successful because it seems to be moving steadily without him. So maybe this is a last and, once in motion, inevitable step in “healing” the injured world.

I think that the elven gods are very scary and world-ending, but Solas is the only one of them that reshaped the world successfully. He will be the one to do it again, not Ghilan’nain or Elgar’nan or any other god. He is a trickster his, and Tricksters are the Gods of Inevitable (otherwise catastrophic) Change.

One of the greatest criticisms of Inquisition was the lack of screen time Corypheus had. And how the climax fell flat at the end because he didn’t have enough screen time. This leads me to believe that Solas may be the “Last Boss” of DA4. Because we definitely HAVE a complicated satisfying personal relationship with him that has been set up for two whole games.

So the ending for Solas needs to do a lot of things:

“These are the times in which legends are born or slain” Solas as the Dread Wolf will die

It needs to work for both people who love and hate Solas

In order to defeat the Elven Gods, Rook has to find their weakness, which is Solas’ weakness too (maybe a fatal flaw, or how they can be truly killed) so it can be used on Solas too. Perhaps this will involve Solas trying to obscure this from Rook as best as he can

Solas fully is on Rook’s side against the evanuris, but when they’re taken care of, he doesn’t need to team up anymore

I don’t believe that you will be able to stop Solas’ plans, and I hope that they will change Thgedas’ world no matter what. I hope it’s just a fact of life that the Veil comes down

The story basically needs to involve Solas betraying Rook again, because new players need to experience that feeling in order to be in the same place with him as they were in DA3

It needs to give players a torn situation about him, one that makes you feel he’s reasonable but at the same time make it satisfying to fight him. So I believe this is why he will betray the player again, even if he is getting along with them.

I believe there needs to be a boss fight against Solas because he does have a cool big monster form and people have been promised to be able to kill him

It needs to be satisfying for those who romanced him too, but it also needs to be beautifully sad because part of the draw of the romance compared to all the others in the series is that it’s beautifully sad

For that reason, I suspect (not because I particularly want this to happen, I’m just saying what I see most likely) is that fighting and killing Solas may not actually be optional, and he is killed in every worldstate. This way, everyone gets a last boss fight and everyone experiences pretty much the same story without much branching

I think the difference between friendly and unfriendly version may be whether he is brought back to life by the efforts of those who care about him after he is killed

So basically:

Veil comes down/magic comes back

Solas helps Rook take down evanuris

Solas betrays Rook when it seems the story should be over

Boss fight with Solas as the Dread Wolf (see: my Tulpa Theory)

Solas is defeated and killed

Story ends there if Solas is hated, (story about Rook getting revenge)

If Solas is loved, Solas is brought back and rebirthed in another freer form through a spirit ritual, perhaps as Wisdom, but some part of it is bittersweet like Rose and Doctor 10 (story about regret).

But basically, no matter how Solas and Lavellan’s story ends, their love enduring will be the path to joy, or them being together. Rook can kill Solas and Lavellan can bring him back. Even if it has to just happen off-screen or in fanfic.

I think it is very likely that Solas kills Varric or another character as a way to transition from passive threat to active threat. Or maybe Rook is responsible because of the theme of regret, idk. But I think we’ll get a great cathartic end for Varric probably.

I think we may have to choose between Varric and the Inquisitor, because it’s similar to the Hawke-Alistair choice

I would be very surprised if the story ended with Solas and Lavellan went off into the sunset together in a perfectly happy ending with nothing bittersweet. But sadly, I don’t really see this happening and I think bittersweet may be the name of the game.

Other things I predict:

We can assume that the Inquisitor will have an optional death scenario when they reappear, where we choose either to let them sacrifice themselves in some way, or save them. So perhaps there is an ending where Solas and Lavellan die together and can be free as spirits, which would also be bittersweet.

I don’t really have predictions for anything but Solas, so the big lore reveals might change the situation so much that none of this applies or makes sense anymore. In which case I will probably be HAVING FUN.

I am not EXPECTING any of this to happen, I am just writing it down and posting it in case I’m right. Anyway please wait until I’m done playing to tell me if I’m right or wrong, and this is just for fun, I wouldn’t mind if the whole game was completely different.

#Dragon Age #DA4 spoilers #DA4 speculation

177 notes · View notes

empressdede · 6 months ago

Text

Me, U & Jealousy - Chapter 1

Chapter One

“We’ll have Kayla give you the run around with how everything should be set up and she’ll help you get things going. Congratulations on your first day, good luck.” Eddie, a backstage producer had told me before walking off.

I was just hired on as an interviewer for WWE and I couldn’t really say I was that excited. Although this is a big opportunity for me, there was a couple people from my past who were here that I wish I could’ve left in the past.

But when my best friend, Jada, told me about the opportunity, I couldn’t let it slip through my fingers.

“I know it may seem scary but once you get acquainted with everyone, it’ll be easier for you.” Kayla starts as she takes over the tour. “Everyone here is very nice, so don’t be intimidated so easily.”

I let out a laugh, shaking my head at her. “Kayla I don’t think there’s a person here who can intimidate me. I don’t frighten easy.” It was true though. No matter how big, tall or muscular someone could be, it didn’t phase me at all. Not even a little bit.

Kayla laughed right back, “Okay, Good. I know most people come in and they’re so afraid to mess up because they work for such a big company; but I think you have enough confidence to do a great job.”

“Thank you Kayla, that really means a lot coming from you.”

“No problem girl. We’ll go around and introduce you to everyone backstage so that you can-“

“I know that ain’t who I think it is!” A voice called out from afar, and I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes. So much for keeping them in the past.

Kayla and I turned around to watched the entire bloodline walk up to us. Unfortunately I grew up with these fools, our parents were close and they always had us hanging out together. The Uso brothers and Roman were older so they didn’t hang out with me as much as their little brother did.

“We heard you was coming, but we thought Ma was just talking just to talk. Damn, look at lil Sorai.” Jonathon teased as he pulled me into a hug.

I gave him the hug in return but kept it short, pulling away from him. “I’m not lil Sorai, I’m grown now Jon.”

Joshua threw his arm around my neck to pull me into a hug as well. “She think cause she gain a lil weight she grown.” Josh laughed and I rolled my eyes.

“I’m a grown women, thank you.” I stated, pulling back from that hug as well. “I pay big girl bills now just like the rest of em.”

“Don’t think just cause you ‘grown’ you think you can walk around doing whatever. Joe on a mission to keep that whole locker room away from you.” Josh stated, throwing quotations around the word ‘grown’ as if it meant nothing to him.

And in reality, it probably didn’t. Seeing these boys did nothing but push those big brother instincts that they had over me back in high school.

They would run everyone away from me if they could. No boy stood a chance against these boys, and I wasn’t about to let them repeat my high school life all over again.

“Guys, Its been a couple of year. Don’t you think it’s time to drop this big brother act already? I mean We’re all grown now.”

It was Joe who spoke up this time. “Grown? You think she look grown Josh?”

“Nah not even a little bit, what about you Uce?” Josh asked, turning to his twin.

“Still look like the same lil Sorai from the playground. Ain’t that right Solo?” Jon asked his little brother.

Solo stared at me with the most intense look in his eyes before answering his brother. “Yeah, same lil Sorai from the playground.” He agreed, a small smirk on his face.

Solo fucking Sikoa. Damn I couldn’t stand him. Ever since we were kids, he would always teased me about every little thing and made sure to irritate my last nerve just to get a laugh. But it wouldn’t be like that this time around, I’m gonna make sure of that.

“I see you still can’t stand up for yourself Sefa. Guess some things never change.”

“It’s Solo.” He tried to correct but I shrugged him off turning to Kayla who looked amused from the whole interaction.

“Kayla, these fools are my wanna be brothers who tried to scare everyone away from me back in high school.” I stated, giving her the history of how I knew them.

“We don’t try to do nothing. We’ve successfully ran every lame away from lil Sorai because she don’t got time for heart break.” Jon bragged which caused me to roll my eyes.

“It’s a little too late for that. Listen as much as I would love to play catch up, Me and Kayla got things to do and I won’t be caught slacking on my first day. “ I turned around and started walking in the opposite direction of the group of boys to follow Kayla to wherever she had to take me.

“Aye Kayla, when y’all finish up bring her to our locker room so she can know where its at. That way we can play catch up!” Jonathan called out. Kayla let out a shout of agreement with a playful smirk on her face as we continued down the hall.

“So,” Kayla started as soon as we were out of earshot. “Wanna tell me the history behind that?” She asked teasingly.

Oh Lord.

_____________________________________________

Let me know watchu guys think so far. Gimme some love though😭🫶🏾 like, comment and repost

#empressdede #empresswriting #wwe #black reader #solo sikoa x black reader #solo sikoa x oc #solo sikoa #sefa fatu #sefa fatu x black reader #sefa fatu x oc #MEYOUANDJEALOUSY

141 notes · View notes

penvisions · 15 days ago

Text

one fish, two fish {chapter 3}

Pairing: Local! Frankie Morales x Transplant! Reader

Summary: Your day seems to be turning around for the better and you certainly don't expect for the night to end the way that it is. Maybe this is the start of things to finally settle into place, you can only hope.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: canon typical language, canon typical bad luck, angst, unlucky encounters, misunderstandings, mentions of reader getting ghosted, then frankie gets ghosted, feelings of inadequacy, recovery, ptsd symptoms, past drug use, na meeting setting, conversations with a sponsor, a lot of feelings, reader has imposter syndrome, reader and frankie finally talk things through, alcohol consumption, illusions to traumatic event involving fire / explosions, illusions to helicopter wreck in the movie, illusions to canon death, reader has a callsign nickname but no assigned name, triple frontier boys, descriptions of both frankie and santi as romantic interests, lemme know if i missed any (nicely) please!

A/N: um hi ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || frankie morales masterlist || navigation

Panic grips Frankie, reminding him of the time he had been stranded in the middle of a field beside a smoking and wrecked chopper, the crash landing he had tried to avoid becoming their new reality. They had been stranded, all five of them, with far too much money pulling taught the netting beneath the vehicle. He had tried his best, to get them to the coast, to get them home. But he had failed, the feeling all too real as he watches with a thudding heart the way you careen down the aisle away from him in the middle of a grocery store with a pinched expression.

“Daddy, why did she run away? I wanted to talk to her!”

“Maybe she was just in a hurry, mija.” He knows it’s bad to lie, especially to his daughter, but the truth is something he himself isn’t too clear on at the moment. He tries not to dwell on the way he hadn’t had the courage to reach out, a couple weeks ago now when you had let him know your phone was repaired and working once again.

He was a cowardly idiot, that’s the only reason he concluded with confidence.

Later that evening, once Cecila was snuggled in her bed with the blankets tucked in around her growing body did he allow himself the chance to sit out on his porch and let his thoughts consume him. He had no reason truly, why he hadn’t responded. The day getting away from him, work calling his attention as a routine check on an engine turned into a full-blown repair as a belt had snapped, too worn from the excessive trips into the air and idling along the runway as students learned out to operate the aerial vehicle. He had showered and thrown himself atop the bed that night after tending to his daughter, no thoughts for the phone still stored in the front pocket of his pants crumpled on the floor.

The next day it had been much the same; the outline for his day tedious but thankfully predictable with teaching, instructing, lecturing, testing, repairing. For nearly five hours until he had been able to catch his breath and take a few bites of something Will had been able to bring over, knowing how overwhelmed he was, how stretched thin he was.

He had no reason other than his own life was barely managed, as to why he hadn’t reached out. Another layer to it was how sleezy he would feel, he met you at a meeting for fuck’s sake. You obviously had been seeking out a lifeline of your own, something to cling to in the low moments. His evening routine of sitting in silence on his porch seemed to be his only respite as of late. The pack of menthol cigarettes he keeps hidden from his daughter taken out once the door to her bedroom shuts. The flick of the lighter almost Pavlovian in the way he eases some of the tension in his shoulders.

The overwhelming feeling of turning to the pills or the powder or the needles that once meant salvation no longer an option. A new need to be better, to do better. And who was he to provide better for you? When he couldn’t even approach you in a friendly enough air to sooth your worries in that moment. At the meeting he was the orchestrator of. He’s by no means a sponsor, but he does hold a bit of authority in the local community. An ear for those too shy to share during meetings, a wealth of information for those seeking it, someone who always plays a part in the annual picnics and events. A family man with no family of his own, save for his friends who give too much of themselves to him even now that their feet are back on US soil.

There’s no space for him in his life, let alone another person who deserves everything and anything. He couldn’t give that to you, the hours spent in the diner already a welcome strain on the one night he had to himself a week. He had given it up for you, your distress at his hand and actions too much for him to handle and not feel like he needed to fix, alter, repent for. Your smile had been shy at first, but oh, when it had bloomed fully before him in the bright lights of the diner? He knew he would give what little of himself was left in order to see it again.

That in itself sounded warning bells inside his head, it was surely to become another vice he would cling to in low moments. But unlike white powder or scored pills, you would were something someone to let down even as he clung to you. Pursuing you would only create more problems, not alleviate any that already plagued him. So he made the decision to keep his head down, work through the strain of being short-staffed at his job, to focus on his daughter. To let his own needs for something more idle and be shoved into the back of his mind along with thoughts of you.

He was okay, Cecilia was okay, their life was good if a bit hectic. If a bit lonely. He would survive, and he’s sure you would too without him complicating things for the both of you.

Frankie tried to be a good man, too many past deeds reminding him of why he felt the need to find repentance and be better. Should he cross paths with you again out in public, he would apologize. Offer to take you to the meeting he had scared you away from. Introduce you to the others, integrate you into the group. As a friend, as a fellow addict, as…a friend. And nothing more. It’s the least he could do if you deign to give him the time of day.

Sighing, he rubs a rough hand over his face, palm catching on his scruff and reminding him he needs to trim it. His grays are visible no matter how short it is, beginning to shine through the dark brown. He was about to get up from his spot in the whicker chair to do something about it, but he feels rooted in his spot. Legs heavy and torso leaned back into the cradle of the chair. His feet are bare, his cut off shorts made from an old pair of sweatpants allowing for him to feel the cool breeze as the evening progresses.

It's nice out. He brings another cigarette to his lips and lights it, smiling softly as the sound of your soft laughter echoes in his ears.

Santiago is rather nicer than Frankie had initially been, though there was no underlying current of mutual attraction. At least, that’s what you were trying to tell yourself, tamping down on the way the man’s eyes would sparkle when they caught both natural and artificial light. The way his curls beautiful and nearly completely steel grey looked effortlessly soft and pliable for wandering hands to tangle in. He was handsome, as you originally thought, but it was his kindness and thoughtfulness that was cementing him in your thoughts.

So unlike the snub of Frankie’s affections after that first night of actually talking to him, that night of the diner where you had thought there would be more just like it. Before you had found out that he had kept the revelation of him being a parent from you, something that hadn’t been mentioned during those long hours you had sat and spoke with him, held his hand and shared in easy laughter. Not that he owed you the truth, you suppose, because for all intents and purposes he was still just a stranger to you. A chance encounter and a lovely night of shared company that was more a memory now than anything.

The sting of his silence and then half-assed explanation and excuses had faded over the last few weeks.

Until he exited out from the truck of his friend that Santiago had called to help tow yours. There was a mechanic shop just next door to the gym one of his other friends owned, something about one of them having worked there or knew the person who operated it and would be able to get you a decent deal that wouldn’t break the bank or your resolve to make this city work.

“Fish! Didn’t expect you to be off work already.” Santiago crowds the man, arms going around his shoulders and a few loud claps of his hand on his back before they part. You see a flash of the smile that had been aimed at you over a low table only once before and your heart skips a beat even as it disappears. Frankie’s eyes land on you and you suddenly feel exposed. The bare skin of your arms blooming with goosebumps despite the warm evening air.

“Can’t believe it myself.” The two men embrace, hands slapping and then Santigo is engulfing you in a side embrace of your own. His eyes catch yours briefly, as if signaling that the next words out of his mouth were genuine.

“Been pretty long days lately. But this one needed some help, and who am I to deny her that?”

It’s quiet for a beat, Santiago looking between you and Frankie who suddenly don’t seem to be on talking terms, while Will beckons you over to ask a few questions about the front bumper. The conversation of whether or not it’s able to handle towing and what kind of issue is going on fades as you both round the front of vehicle.

“Hey,” The older man whispers, sidling up to his friend. “Thought you said you two smoothed things over?”

“We did….until I never texted her back and she ran into me and Ceci at the market.” Frankies large hand rubs at the back of his neck, curls greasy from work. He’s sure he doesn’t look too great, tired from the long day and caught off guard that the ‘friend’ Santiago needed a hand helping out turned out to be you. How did he even know you? He had only ever briefly met you at the bar, all those nights ago. Had only ever been mentioned to the man in passing, not willing to admit to selfishly and cowardly ignoring you for weeks now.

“…you didn’t say anything about that. I take it you hadn’t quite yet told her you’ve got a lil one, then, huh?”

“She nearly knocked into an endcap display once she saw it was me.” Stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his khakis, he shrugs his aching shoulders. Trying not to look too hurt by the way his heart had clenched at the reaction. It hadn’t been great but he had deserved it. He knows he did, he hadn’t been fair to you.

“Shit, Fish. That’s…I thought you said you liked her?” Santiago furrowed his brows and looked at Frankie straight on, not giving the man any space to avert his gaze. He was being a good friend, but he was also sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

“Liking her ain’t the problem, it’s finding time for her. Which I don’t even have for myself right now.”

“Well, now you’ll have time. Gonna set her up with Will for work, fill that open position for a secondary mechanic they’ve got on the base.” Before he could respond one way or another, Santiago was clapping him on the back and walking over to where Will was just pulling on the chains to ensure they were secure.

Fucking- of course he would end up being in proximity to you. Every detail of your hours long conversation rolled around his head. You would definitely get the job, your background and experience exactly what the base was looking for.

The only issue is that meant he would see you on nearly a daily basis and he’s already botched meeting you for the first time and second…he needed to clear the air. Even if it was going to be difficult to articulate the reasoning behind his actions. You deserve it, to not question in the back of your mind the endless possibilities of what had happened. If you even thought of him, if you even cared at this point.

No thoughts of other than making things right, for the sake of potentially working together and seeing the way you interact with his friends. They like you, an invitation for drinks offered for later.

A short drive down a few blocks and you find yourself standing in a nearly empty parking lot of a gym called ‘Brass Knuckles’. Frankie, Will, and Santiago were idly chatting, waiting for their friend to close up the gym for the night to walk across the street to the dive bar that was mentioned. He looks a little younger than the rest of them, but not by much. You’ve all lived your earlier years for the country, that much is obvious, in the way you all hold yourselves. The comradery was one of the things you missed the most about being around other people who had served as well. But your contact with much of your squadron had fallen by the wayside as things progressed after the attack that had earned you all an honorable discharge…

Shaking your head, you found yourself sat at a table with them all and they were discussing what to get a pitcher of.

“Any preferences, hermosa?” Santiago nudges his shoulder into yours. “You were drinking an amber the other night, maybe one of those?”

“I stick to those just cause they’re pretty even along the board no matter what city, but just get whatever you all want.” To be honest, you’re a little nervous being around Frankie. Let alone amidst his personal friend group, you didn’t want him to feel like you were imposing. He had made it pretty clear he wasn’t interested in you, even if he had tried to smooth things over in the way he had in that rambling voicemail.

It still felt like an invasion, his life his own and something he protected in omitting certain truths.

He keeps glancing at you from across the table and you weren’t sure what to think about him. He had apologized sure, but it seemed that he either feels some sort of obligation to you with all of the mix ups that keep happening or if he truly does wish to extend the hand of friendship. You don’t know him well enough to know which one for certain, thought if you were going off of the man he had been across a dingy table you would have to guess it’s because he was a good person who wanted you to be in his orbit.

“Nah, we’ll get a pitcher of that. And some appetizers to tide everyone over until dinner.” Benny winks at you as he stands and makes his way over to the bar counter.

“Pope here mentioned you’re on the lookout for a service job,” Will meets your eye with a charming smile. “We’ve got openings in Fish’s zone, mechanics and repair work. Don’t have too much in the way of engineering or assembly work, but we do have some instructor roles that need to be filled too. Safety protocol, seminar leaders, stuff like that. What experience do you have, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was an explosives expert, Navy SEAL. Did foreign tours but spent most of my time at the Pearl Harbor base. Have a background in mechanical engineering and weapons instruction. But I’m not sure how much if it is on file now should I be looked up in the system.” It’s a clipped summary though your tone is open and honest, explaining in the simplest way you’ve come to know how to for exactly that question.

Potential jobs, apartment hunting, casual curiosity when using your discount out and about, it was a constant one in your life. Though the specifics of what happened to cause the way you had been ejected from active service more personal, a little heavier and harder to explain. Your keys jangle in your hand, the plastic chip emblazoned with ‘one year’ a grounding feeling in your palm. The cool plastic gives you a little comfort as you sit amongst strangers with similar pasts.

“Did you finish out your contract? The only time information about your skills gets altered is if you take leave before the end of it.”

“I was, um,” Your eyes catch the movement of Benny moving back toward the table, the phantom feel of flames licking at your sides as the room suddenly feels way too hot. “I was honorably discharged. For medical reasons.”

He watches you closely, eyes roving over your exposed arms, taking in the muscles you’ve managed to keep up as best as you could. There was no evidence you had been sick or otherwise that was visible, all of it shielded by your top. The other two men stealthily check you for the same, though you feel Frankie’s gaze more than the others, something underlying his casual concern. “And is everything okay now?”

“Oh, um, yes. It was…” You averted your eyes to the keys in your lap, unable to formulate a polite summary of the reason you had ended up sitting across from him. It was a lot, endless meetings and deep conversations, of yelling and arguing. Of admittance after too much avoidance of the truth. A lot of fault on your shoulders, on those around you, on medical professionals and the circumstances that had begun it all.

“Don’t need the details, if you’re uncomfortable sharing them. We can discuss is further when you come into the base for a “formal” interview, if you think it’ll affect any aspects of the job.” You feel the band of anxiety around your chest relax, the breath you take in expands your lungs instead of feeling stuck in the back of your throat. “How does- what’s today again-?”

“Wednesday, you big oaf.” Benny teases as he returns to the table with a full pitcher of dark beer and a stack of pint glasses nestled into each other.

“So kind and gracious, little brother.” He rolls his eyes as he thinks something over. “Would Friday work for you? Give me the weekend to run your resume and file over with the higher ups and could probably formally offer you something on Monday.”

You find yourself at the table alone with Frankie. His friends gone to the other side of the bar to start a game of pool amongst themselves. Brother against brother with Santiago to moderate.

It’s…awkward to say the least. Apprehensive tension charging the air around you both as you sip on your beer. It’s the second of yours, though Frankie is still on his first.

“Santiago and I ran into each other,” You blurted out, unable to handle the silence. Frankie had been lost in thought, plush lips twitching as he seemed to go over words he thought to say and then changed his mind. His eyes snap up from the foam he was watching slowly disappear in his drink to you across the table. You swallowed down the way your breath stuck in your throat as his eyes met yours. Dark brown that swirled with so much pulling you toward him. “Literally.”

“He’s got impeccable timing.”

“I was having the worst day, but he helped to turn it around.”

“And now you’re sitting here across from the asshole that ghosted you.” His scoff was subdued, but the distaste he felt about himself and the way things played out was obvious.

“I wasn’t trying to say that. I was trying to- you know what, just forget it. This is all so fucking stupid.” You reach for your bag, hands uncurling from around your own drink. Frustration glowing hot in your chest as he took your words and twisted them. How dare he, you think, reeling from the whiplash of the man’s emotions across from you. You didn’t fault him for feeling things the way he did, but open communication means a lot to you. Honesty means a lot to you and he’s been terrible at both the past few interactions. “You really do know how to make an impression.”

“Shit, wait, please.” The desperation in his voice makes you pause, silent as you wait for him to continue, gauging the wideness to his eyes. He licks at his bottom lip, the pink of his tongue catching your attention far more than you want to admit. “I don’t…I’m not good at…people beyond my small circle.”

“We don’t have to talk like friends, Frankie. But we do have to respect each other as coworkers and share the hangar space if I get this job. If you don’t want to talk to me at all, I can deal with that. We can leave notes on a whiteboard or exchange emails about things that need to get done, no big deal. But I will be damned if whatever happened between us, or lack thereof, affects this opportunity.”

“That’s the last thing I want, Angel.” Frankie’s mouth is a firm line, his hands cupped around his pint glass once again, eyes focused on you and the determination settled in your expression. Almost as if he was grounding himself.

“I wouldn’t ignore you just because of how we met. I…I only regret letting my own shit taint what I thought was a good night after everything had turned around. How I’m letting it fuck this up now, I’m sorry, I know I’m not being the best right now. It’s been a long day, like you said.” You see him pause, one of his hands tensing so much that his knuckles pale. “I can work with you, I’m willing to work with you. We both deserve to do something we’ve got the skills for, I wouldn’t ruin that for you. Believe me.”

“Kinda hard to believe someone who wouldn’t even tell me about their own kid. But hey,” You down the last dredges in your own pint and move to stand up. “I’m just the girl you were trying to make feel welcome after two not so good interactions. You didn’t and don’t owe me an explanation.”

“You deserved the truth.” Frankie agrees, reaching for your arm just as you shoulder the strap to your bag. “You do deserve the truth. Let me- please let me drive you home. I can bring you back tomorrow, talk to Javier, the owner of the shop and get you a deal. I used to work there, I just…I don’t want you to think I didn’t have a good time, that I don’t-it’s me, I’m the problem. Not you, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Frankie,” You’re pinching the bridge of your nose, a headache forming as the day progresses. You still really just wanted to curl up on your couch with take out. The greasy appetizers doing their best to fill your grumbling stomach, but the call of more food in the comfort of your home was strong. “I have no energy for this right now, my day has been shit. Can we just agree to…start over? We’re adults and I don’t want to dwell on things. Please?”

“Whatever you want, I swear it. Just- one last thing, just hear me out on one last thing and then I’ll shut up about it.”

“What is it, Frankie?” You don’t wave his hand off and he thankfully squeezes it in his grasp before stepping back. His shoulders square and he emphasizes with them when he speaks next, providing you with the answers to questions you had tumbled around in your head for days after your encounter at the grocery store.

“The reason I didn’t tell you about Ceci, my daughter, is because she gets attached to people very easily since her mother left us. I didn’t…it’s a lot to learn that someone you’re interested in has a kid, let alone a clingy one. I didn’t want it to be a deal breaker for you.”

“Kinda moot now, isn’t it?” You can’t help the hint of sarcasm that leaks into your tone, wanting for all the world to move past what if’s and maybe’s of how you first met each other. If you’re going to be working together, it’s better to start off fresh, to start off on a better foothold than the rickety one you two had been sharing up until this point.

He catches the way the corner of your mouth quirks up, the arch of one of your brows as you cross your arms and jut your head a bit to the side. Teasing, you’re teasing him and when he realizes his entire body relaxes.

“I mean, you’re the one who went out of their way to make amends for not one, but two terrible first encounters. So, I think you may have been a little more invested than I was, Mr. Morales.”

“With the way you were smiling and giggling, bet you were just as invested, querida.”

“Shut up and take me home, I need a mountain of Chinese food.” You can’t help the roll of your eyes as he matches your taunts, truly set on making things better and tiding over the insecurities of past interactions and lack there of. It’s tentative, your nerves alight even as a giddiness settles in just beneath your skin. The back and forth, the easy conversation flowing like it had once upon a time.

“I know a good place, we’ll look it up and place a to go order. Pick it up on the way.” He offers, seemingly willing to try and move forward as well. There’s a hesitancy behind his eyes that thaws your lingering anger and annoyance, the hurt that had bloomed from it.

“Yeah? You gonna pick up the tab?” You challenge, stepping closer to him as you do so. The setting of the bar and the chatter of the crowd melt away as he matches your step. He’s only inches away as he rests a hand on the top of the table, his head ducked down to focus on only you. The bill of his hat brushes your forehead and you feel a flash of warmth as the memory of his lips on your cheek suddenly bubbles up.

“Picked it up last time, why would this time be any different?” He’s smirking, the glint of his teeth behind his plush lips spurring butterflies to life in your middle.

God, why was it so easy to forgive him for the misunderstanding? Because now your body was alight with the giddy feeling of connection, just like it had been that night in the diner. You only hoped that you could keep it professional, keep it friendly. And how were you supposed to know that Frankie was wondering the exact same thing? His own mind racing as his heart beats wildly in his chest that things are finally changing and changing for the better.

Off to the side, the three remaining members of your little party are nursing their new pints. The second pitcher set on the table and left for you both as they started a game of pool.

“How much you wanna bet that’s gonna happen by the end of the month?” Benny’s wolfish smile influenced by his joy of games, though it stems from a place of genuine interest and want for his friend to find the happiness he had been lacking in his personal life.

“I bet it’s gonna take them two months, and one of them is gonna mistake it for being overly touchy- feely and back off again.” Santiago rises to the bait and offers his own idea of what will happen. He knows his best friend, the way things tend to play out. His past intertwined with is own. He thinks back on the past few years, since their collective return from South America. The strides they’ve all taken since then to be better, to actually make a difference and not fall victim to the endless cycle of not feeling good enough. Frankie deserved good things, a second chance at finding someone to share his life with, even if the man didn’t personally believe it.

“I think they’re gonna hit it off, become inseparable and then one of them is gonna get jealous that the other got asked out. That’s how these things typically go, don’t they?” Will chalks the end of his pool stick, eyes trained on you two standing far too close to each other and lost in your own little bubble. All three of them smiling and enjoying seeing Frankie truly relaxed for the first time in what feels like years.

“Either way, they have intoxicating energy. Makes me feel like I’m watching something I’m not supposed to.” Santiago claps his hands together before retrieving his phone from his back pocket. “Think it’s time to call my girl and see when her next night off is.”

They watched on as you both seemed to mess around on Frankie’s phone, fingers pointing at each other and easy laughter shared between you both. Mock frowns and the flash of tongues being teasingly stuck out at each other. They wondered what the conversation was, because when they walked away it looked nothing like it did now. Just as the phone is tucked back into a pocket, you’re both waving at the trio as you make your way to the door.

“I’d have that workplace conduct paperwork at the ready, brother. They’re gonna be trouble once they figure everything out, hell, maybe even as they figure everything out.” Shaking his head and chuckling, Will makes a mental note to stick a blank contract in each of your files tomorrow when he gets to work before going back to the game at hand.

previous chapter || next chapter

taglist: @76bookworm76 @christinamadsen @readingiskeepingmegoing

@brittmb115 @darkheartgatita @sawymredfox @burntheedges @hiddenbabynyc

@southernbe @inept-the-magnificent @littlemisspascal @jessthebaker

@copperhalfcent @pastelpinkflowerlife @guiltyasdave

dividers and banners provided by the lovely @/saradika-graphics and @/cafekitsune

#dev writes #fic: one fish two fish #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier movie #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fic #ppcu #ppcu fandom #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom

57 notes · View notes

justenjoythegossip · 10 months ago

Text

THE CONTINUING DISASTROUS PR STRATEGY REGARDING CHRIS AND ABBA’S “RELATIONSHIP”

The PR strategy regarding Chris and Abba has been a disaster, even before they even debuted their “relationship” officially with their first papwalk in NY. It has failed on almost every level. Maybe not for the brands that have been sponsoring their relationship, we would need their numbers to know for sure. But this PR strategy has been a disaster and utter failure for them either as a “couple” or for them as individuals.

The discrepancy between a product and the marketing strategy…

Let’s say you want to sell junk food from a fast food chain. You do need to find a positive angle to sell your product. You can say you have diversified and created healthier options. What you can’t do is to sell your product by saying it’s the most nourishing and healthiest food on the planet. The disconnect between what you are presenting and reality is so great that you lose all credibility to the point of absolute ridicule. You need to know your product, you need to know your brand identity and then look for every possible ways to present it in a positive light. This is what a PR spin is set out to do. And this explains why this “RS” has been such a failure for both Chris and Abba from a PR perspective. This RS hasn’t been on brand for either of them, and the way it has been marketed differs way too much from reality…

Not on brand for Chris…

During an interview with costar ADA, Chris once got very irritated with a journalist who mentioned his brand. But there is little doubt he was being disingenuous about it because he is very well aware of his brand. He is someone who is “shrewd” according to costar RDJ and who lurks around on SM to see what is being written about him. He knows his brand consisted of being Captain America, the perfect internet boyfriend and the loving dog dad. And it’s no coincidence that every single time he was being called out for something questionable he did, he posted his dog Dodger as damage control.

It has been discussed enough as it is so I won’t go into the various reasons why his “relationship” with Abba is not on brand for him.

But we can wonder whether this unlikely pairing for him was done on purpose in an effort to rebrand him. And indeed since Endgame, he has expressed his interest in playing bad guys in an apparent effort to show his range. And he seems to have specialized in more villainous parts: Ransom in Knives out, Lloyd in the Gray Man, shady Pete in Pain Hustlers. He was also supposed to play the evil dentist in Little Shop of Horrors.

But his team has sent mixed signals in this strategy to distance himself from his famous alter ego, as he keeps mentioning Captain America every chance he gets. It’s difficult to know why. Did this strategy fail in getting him the opportunities he wanted or expected? Did their strategy of rebranding him work a little too well? What we do know is that he keeps referring to the part he is most recognizable for, how precious his sendoff is to him, if he plans on coming back and so forth…

Not on brand for Abba…

Some mods have discussed Abba’s latest interview, called on her obvious bullshit and how her words and actions don’t match. Personally I am not interested in promoting her or even discussing her more than I have to. Especially since I am not too keen on giving her or her team ideas on how to better market herself. So I won’t…

Chris and Abba Baptiste are not a private and/or popular couple…

The narrative they are selling that they are such a private and famous couple just doesn’t fly. Their latest stunt with the alleged dinner with two other famous couples was ridiculous at best. They didn’t sell the “happy loving couple” part with their staged and awkward PDA, and the “private and popular” part was even less believable. The intervention of Chris’ bodyguard Guillermo was hilarious as if they were rock stars who needed protection from the frenzy of their many fans. Please… It seemed that there was no one out there, except the paps they called themselves (Backgrid) and I guess the valet who parked their borrowed car.

Again what they are selling is so far from the actual truth that it has done nothing but bring shame and ridicule upon them.

Private couples don’t breadcrumb their RS on SM, they don’t debut their RS via a staged and bad papwalk on the day of their show debut, they don’t have articles about their valentines’ cringy pics and videos before they are even posted and I could go on and on and on…

Chris and Abba are not private individuals either…

I think it has been well established that Abba is neither private nor shy. Someone who posts a shower porn on their Insta just isn’t.

But neither is Chris. I am not even talking about the fact that he leaked his own privates. One could argue he did it accidentally. But even if that’s true, he leaked his own nudes because he was trying to share a private video of game night. Chris is someone who has used his family, his friends, his beloved dog and charities he works with in his PR games for the longest of times, he has called the paps on himself, he has shared the most intimate details about himself such as when he lost his virginity and so on… The truth is that he has been more than willing to use his private life to advertise himself. Saying you are private and being private are two very different things.

And that’s part of the reason why Chris has faced such a strong backlash from his very devoted and loyal fans since the beginning of this shitshow. The disconnect between his brand and what he is currently presenting to the public is just far too great. And this disconnect has created a lot of anger and resentment in his fandom. That’s why we can safely assume that this PR strategy hasn’t served his best interest…

This PR shitshow has failed Abba as well big time and will continue to do so…

Of course, Abba is not blameless in the fact she hasn’t benefited from these PR games. She and her entourage have trolled Chris’ fandom who in return exposed her.

Also her whole attitude, her lack of professionalism/work ethic and her very problematic personality were hurdles that would have been impossible to overcome for anyone.

But she was unlikely to benefit from the charade anyway because Chris isn’t the household name he once was. Especially outside of Marvel. If people have any doubt about this, they should watch the show Billy Eichner did with Chris. It was telling.

Abba Baptiste… Alba Baptista sorry is still a no-name despite having had trillion articles written about her (about her being this great humanitarian, about her being almost abducted, about her eyebrows and so on). Because being the “wife” of an actor known for having been Captain America was never going to be her golden ticket to Hollywood. She had to put in the work.

60 notes · View notes

shelbgrey · 1 year ago

Note

I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING FOR SONE SWEETS FLUFF AND MAKING OUT. LIKE MAYBE THEY BECOME ROOMMATES BECAUSE THEY KNOW EACH OTHER SOMEHOW OR NOT, DO WHATEVER YOU WANT, I JUST WANT THE VIBE OF YHAT ONE VINE AND I JUST SAW A SAD SWEETS EPISODE AND I NEED FLUFF. Okay sorry for the yelling. Maybe she has feelings for him and then he becomes her roommate somehow and she's like "Oh shit shit shit why is he so good looking." But he's thinking the same thing and I just need some fluff and kissing and making out and cuddles after that sad episode. If you don't want to di it, that's totally understandable and fine!

You belong with me(Lance Sweets)

Paring: Lance Sweets X Booth!Reader

Summary: after Booths little sister gets death threats from a criminal the FBI is investigating, y/n gets sent to Sweets apartment to be hidden and protected. The two are best friends and are oblivious to their feelings, but once they get a chance to be alone things might change.

A/n: my first Bones fic! sorry this took so long and I hope you don't mind a did a few small changes, I hope you enjoy. Send in more Lance Sweets request, I love this man 💕

It started off as a couple of creepy Emails, I ignored them and didn't really tell anyone. I thought if the team found out about the messages I wouldn't be able to work on the case. Creepy Messages then tunred into death threats, my brother Seeley found out and changed my Email, phone number and everything then things seemed to calm down. It was fine till the killer ended up in my apartment.

Anyway, that's how I'm in my current situation, actually I wouldn't call living with my best friend a situation. Lance Sweets was my most trusted alie and I knew he'd always have my back. Dispite my brother's worries, me and Lance would become roommate for my own safety.

“this is like getting protected by a smurf in his little mushroom house” Seeley sighed as he drove down the street to Lance's appointment.

I sighed from the back seat, I knew Seeley had a soft spot for Lance but I also knew my brother was scared Shitless for my safety. He always makes jokes in face of danger, we both sorta did.

“not necessarily” Bones started like I wasn't even in the car with them. “the Perp wouldn't even expect her to be in Sweets' apartment... Meaning she's under protection and hiding in plan sight”

“umm...” I started from the back seat but my brother and sister-in-law kept going.

“Yes but she's safer with me... Technically” Seeley sighed.

I slumped in the back seat, giving up on adding my opinion. In reality I was happy but also nervous, me and Lance are basically best friends. We've been alone before but this was different, I would never admit but I've had a thing for him ever since we bumped into each other(literally) at the Jeffersonian. I couldn't help fall for his kind heart and puppy eyes.

Once we pulled into the apartment complex, the three of us filed out of the car to unloud my belongings. I didn't bring everything just my clothes and a few things I couldn't live without.

“Hey, Sweets” Seeley called out as he met us outside. I couldn't help but blush as he walked to the car to help with my things.

“Hey, y/n” he smiled and gave me a hug. I loved his hugs, they we're always so warm and comforting.

“let's get this stuff into the house” he said pulling one of my bags over his shoulder and then grabbed another box. I couldn't help but stare at arms. They were always hiden behind suit jackets or sweaters. I didn't relize how toned they looked in his gray t-shirt.

“that one might be hevy so be careful” I said.

“I got” he smiled and lead me to the elevator that lead to the floor his appointment was on. Seeley and Bones followed behind with the rest of my stuff.

“here we are” he said setting down the box to unlock his apartment.

“thanks for doing this Sweets” Seeley said setting down one of the bigger boxes on the counter once he entered the apartment.

“of course” he said smiling at me. I smiled back trying to fight the red tent in my cheeks.

“the geast room is over here” Lance said leading me down the hall with some of my stuff. “it's right across from mine, so if need anything I'm right here” he said.

“thanks Lance” I smiled as set my stuff down.

“here's the rest of it” Bones said as she entered the room and set down my bags. “thanks Temp”

I looked around my new room, it was nice and the perfect size for somthing temporary. I looked around and noticed Lance got some new sheets and a comferter in my favorite color for the bed. I couldn't help but smile at the small details he remembered over the years we've known each other.

“is the bedding okay?” Lance said coming back into the room. I smiled softy and wrapped my arms around his waist hugging him. “thanks Lance, it's perfect”

He looked down at me with the chocolate eyes that I loved so much. Moved out of his arms and he cleared his throat. “so... I'll let you get settled in” he said nervously as he walked backwards towrds the door, he showed that goofy smile but it dropped when he ran into the door frame.

I didn't feel too bad for laughing as he let out a chuckle as he tapped the door frame. “you okay?”

“totally fine” he smiled as his cheeks turned red, he pointed towrds the door and left the room.

As I started to fill my drawers up with my clothes my brother walked in. “hey... You good?”

I nodded with a smile as he set on the edge of my bed. “I'm one call away... If you need anything juat-”

“bro, I'll be fine... I'm in good hands” I smiled. He forced a smile and pulled me into a hug. “love you... Be safe”

“love ya too Bro”

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

A couple of hours later I pretty much had the room set up how I wanted it. Once I smashed down the last empty box I smelled somthing coming from the kitchen, it smelled good, like garlic and spices.

I followed the smell and the closer I got to the kitchen the Louder his music got. I peaked around the corner and watched the goof ball slightly dancing to the song Coconut by Harry Nilsson as he stired what ever he was cooking.

I could get used to this, it wasn't hard for him to make me smile. His personality and smile always warmed my heart.

He started to sing along and drum with a couple of wooden spoons. I let out a giggle making him stop.

“oh... Hey” he nervously chuckled and scratched the back of his neck. “What are you up too?” I asked coming into the kitchen. I looked in the oven and saw some garlic bread toasting in the oven.

“I figured I'd make you some dinner... Thought it would make you feel better” he said as I turned to his side and stired the pot that had the alfredo sauce.

“I really don't cook much, sorry if it doesn't tast that good” His cheeks were slightly red as leaned against the counter, he looked like he was contemplating life.

I gave him a smile and tasted the sauce as he drained the noodles. The sauce really good, not that I was suprised.

“it's really good” he looked at me suprised and took the spoon from me. “really?” he asked and tried it for himself. He nodded impressed.

“sometimes I suprise myself” I chuckled as he gave me his adorable smile.

After dinner we ended up on the couch watching TV. We couldn't decide on a movie so we ended up watching some old Scooby-Doo cartoons. With everything going on it was nice to watch something a little more cheerful.

We spent half the night giggling like idiots. I haven't laughed this hard in weeks, being with him always made me feel better. But then I couldn't help but think about what Angela said to me, she said that me and Lance were too worried about getting Seeley and Temperance together that we're completely blind to the feelings we share.

That was a few months ago and I started to relize he was exactly what I wanted in a guy, then all the bad boys, the family problems, Daisy trying to tear up our friendship didn't matter. I didn't care that Seeley was probably panicking and worrying if I was actually safe or not, I cared about how safe Lance made me feel.

“is this okay?” He asked wrapping his arm around me. Dispite the red tint in my cheeks I moved closer and rested my head on his shoulder. “of course”

It wasn't unusual for us having little space between us, but we never really been this close. Being wrapped in his arms was a feeling I didn't want going away.

Sooner, rather than later, I drifted off to sleep, as I drifted in and out I felt my body Being carefully shifted around. I woke up for a split second to relize the TV was off and I was laying on Lance's chest. Of course the couch wasn't really an ideal place for two people to sleep, but it was the best sleep I had in months.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

The next morning I woke up and went to the bathroom, when I opened the door my eyes widened.

“s-sorry Lance” I stuttered as I unintentionally started to check him out. He was only in his black slacks showing his toned chest. He had more muscle than most people would expect, I wish I could just stay wrapped up in his strong arms. He had a couple of scars on his shoulders and chest, he's told me the story after I opened up about how my dad would hit me and Seeley. I knew it was a touchy subject, but the scars made him even more attractive. It shouldn't be anything to be ashamed of, it was aprt of him.

“you okay?” he asked knocking me out of my trance. I quickly nodded noticing he was walking closer to me. The smell that surrounded him intoxicated me(in a good way), he smelled like he just showered and his Old Spice cologne.

I cleared my throat. “yeah... I just need to brush my teeth”

“right...I'll get out of your way” he moved out of the way so I could pass by him. He smiled and grabed the dress shirt that was on the counter.

While I brushed my teeth he was behind me, using the mirror to fix his collor. I leaned over the sink to spit the toothpaste out, I heard Lance gulp and when I raised back up and looked at his red cheeks through the mirror. He quickly looked down as he put his tie around his neck.

He fumbled with it for a while before I turned around and adjusted it. “there” I said softly as I fixed his collor. His chocolate eyes stared into mine as his hands fell to my waist. My heart pounded the closer he got, but I wasn't gonna stop him.

Just as our noses brushed up against each other my phone rang making him jump back.

I groaned and answered Hodgins' call.

“what do you want?” I asked not realizing how the words fell out of my mouth.

“is that how you usually awnser the phone?” Hodgins chucked.

I laughed slightly as I walked out of the bathroom, Lance had the same idea and we bumped into each other at the door frame.

As Jack was explaining how Bones and Booth found a body stuck in a bath tub and they couldn't figure out what was keeping the Skelton in the tub, that's were me and Hodgins come in, Temperance can't figure out the cause of death intill we got it out.

“sorry” I said as Lance grabed me before he accidentally bumped me into the door frame.

“sorry for what?” Hodgins asked as I heared him move around in the Lab we shared on the other line.

“never mind, I'll be there in thirty minutes” I said and hung up the phone.

“got another victim” I said grabbing my stuff.

“just another day in paradise” Lance said sarcastically.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“oh good you guys are here, I need you.... You too Sweets” Hodgins said pulling me into our lab. Lance gave us questioning looks as he followed us.

“what's up Jack?” I asked as he walked behind his desk and pointed to a container with a thick cream colored substance.

“so, I'm hoping this is similar to the mixture that kept the victim in the tub, we estimated the victim was there for about a month”

“what happened?”

“the female victim had about two other roommates, they were both gone on 'vacation' when she died, the alibis haven't been comfermed yet”

“do you think one of her roommates did it?” I asked as I checked on the turantula I kepted in the Lab.

“that's what we're thinking, Booth is about to interview the mother and two roommates” Hodgins said.

“I'm wondering if this was intentional, Cam talked about the skin having a major allergic reaction when we came in” I said.

“what is this anyway?” Lance asked looking that the cream colored substance.

“oh yeah” Hodgins said coming back around his desks so it stood in between us. “I ground up a fraction of the tub, it's a kind of porcelain that they don't make any more... There's also the body soap from the crime seen, like you said, Cam thinks the victim had an allergic reaction to it”

“and where do we come in?” Lance asked.

“I want you two to stick your hands in there and if it hardens we know what glued the victim to the tub.” Hodgins explained.

“and what if we can't get out?” Lance asked. “don't worry, I'm a professional” Hodgins laughed. Lance took of his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up, I quickly took of my jacket as well.

Reluctantly, me and Lance stuck our hands into the thick substance. The container was small so there was much wiggle room. “ow” Lance said after I acdently stabed his thumb with my nail. “sorry”

“hmm... Why don't you guys take your hands out then connect them so they fit better in the container.” Hodgins suggested, We both blush.

“don't you have a bigger container?” Lance asked. “Yes, but this container has a certain material that's needed for the experiment.”

We nodded and Lance held his hand out to me. I took it and out fingers laced together. My heart thumbed quicker that comfterting feeling holding his hand gave me. If we were in a different situation I would love this, but now we're stuck in some slimey substance.

“alright, what now?” I asked as we could now barely move our hands. Jack touched the corner of the substance and it jiggled like Jell-O.

“give it a few more minutes” Hodgins said then started to tap on his computer. “I'll be right back” He said and left the lab.

“Wait! Jack!” we shouted. I huffed and dropped my forehead on Lance's shoulder in frustration.

Lance tried to wiggled our hands out but the substance seemed to push against us. Lance gave up after a few minutes with a frustrated look. “I hope he knows what he's doing”

“yeah me too” I sighed and looked behind my shoulder hoping to see Hodgins walking around the lab.

“now that we have some free time... ” Lance started. “you want to talk about this morning?” I quickly looked back confused.

“talk about what?” I quickly asked, too to get rejected. In the bottom of my heart I had the feeling he felt the same, but his friendship ment too much to me to admit my feelings.

“n/n, we almost ki-”

“I'm back!” Hodgins chucked as he raced back in the room. Lance rolled his eyes as my other best friend unknowingly intruped.

“okay, let's see what we're working with” Hodgins said snapping some rubber gloves on. We both rolled our eyes as Hodgins placed one hand on my arm and put pressure on the box trying to lift us out.

“umm” Hodgins said scratching the back of his head. “what's 'umm'?” I quickly asked trying to break free. Lance placed his free hand on the box trying to get out too.

“get us out” Lance quickly said. Hodgins gave him a smug smile. “What's the rush Sweets?”

“I have to help Booth Interrogate the suspects” he said matter of factly.

He nodded with a small smile and disappeared behind one of his shelves. We heard a sudden buzzing sound making me and Lance bump into each other. The box almost fell over bending our wrist in an uncomfortable way, Lance grabed the box before I could totally tip over.

“this should work” Hodgins said bring over his Dremel. Lance gulped as Hodgins set the tool down and placed protective glasses over our eyes. “hang tight”

The buzzing got louder as Hodgins tried to cut threw the plastic and the now clay substance. The cutter broke causing the Dremel to stop. Hodgins pulled up and saw the cracked disk. “son of a bitch”

Me and Lance looked down and there was only a three inch cut down one of the corners. “okay... I'll be back”

Hodgins said running for the door. He then came back with a smile. “dont go anywhere”

“hardy har har” Lance said.

Silence suronded us once again. Lance sighed and shifted his feet. I got tired of standing as well and the two of us ended up shifting the box so we we're seting on Hodgins desk and the box was in Lance's lap.

Lance cleared his throat and gave me a serious look. “now Hodgins is gone... You want to discuss this morning?” he asked again. I shrugged, refusing to meet the adorable eyes I loved so much.

“y/n, you know you can tell me anything” he said softly.

I sighed, it's all or nothing, right? Without really thinking about consequences, I placed my free hand on his jaw and pulled him closer. His breath hitched but he showed no sign of moving. His head titled to the side and moved forward.

Just as our noses brushed up against each other Hodgins intruped once again. “this should work!” he grined, making us quickly pull away from each other.

Hodgins plugged in this heavy duty saw and started to cut threw everything. Eventually the container was removed, leaving what looked like a small cinder block around our hands.

“that's a good sign” Hodgins said as he grabed a small Hammer and a small hand shevel. “What is?” Lance asked.

“the way the mixture made contact with your skin proved what might kept the victim in the tub” Hodgins said as he gently and cautiously chipped the clay away.

“so the victim had the allergic reaction... Then left for dead for about a month... Between the moisture and the chemicals 'glued' her in” I said.

“Booth said her supposed best friend got her the soap, she's the only one who knew about the allergy, apparently the victim was sleeping with the killers boyfriend” Hodgins said as he got the last chunk of clay off.

“there you go” he smiled. Me and Lance tried to pull away but they wouldn't budge. I sighed and held up my hand, Lance's went up to of course.

“what now Dr. Frankenstein?” I said sarcastically. Hodgins raised an eyebrow and tried pull our thumbs apart. “ouch” I said as my skin pulled but didn't budg.

“sorry, sorry” Hodgins quickly said. “umm.. Okay we need-”

I quickly cut him off. “umm we're going to Temperance or Angela for this one” I quickly said and walked towrds the door forgetting Lance was attached for a breaf second.

“woah” he said tumbling forward then bumped into me. As we left Hodgins let out a 'sorry' as we walked towrds Angela's office, to our luck Temperance was there too.

“what happened to you guys?” Angela asked looking from her screan. “Yes, you both look very agitated” Temperance added.

“is it Daisy again? I've been wanting to set her straight” Angela asked walking forward. I quickly stoped her.

“no, this time it's your husband” I said holding up mine and Lance's glued hands. Angela let out a chuckle as she examined our locked hands.

“can you guys fix this?” Lance asked as Temperance looked at our hands too. “acetone and Hot water might work... I can get the container that had the cookies you made and you guys will have to soak your hands for a while” Temperance explained.

“I'll get Jack's acetone” Angela smiled and lefted the office as Temperance brought over an empty container. Angela then came back with hot water and the acetone. We sat on Angela's couch then stuck our hands in the small tub.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“your experiment didn't work” Angela said as Hodgins walked in. The both of us perked up from the research we were doing. “I thought I did work?” Lance asked.

“We're talking about something eles” Hodgins asked looking at the both us then back at his wife. “they're hiding something... What are you up to?” Lance said setting down the file he had in his free hand.

Angela sighed and looked at us with a guilty face. “we wanted you guys to admit your feeling for each other.” Lance raised an eyebrow not too affected, I on the other hand turned beat red.

“you guys are always worried about getting other people together” Hodgins sighed. “me and Ange, Booth and Brennan... It was time you guys got a little help.”

I felt thankful for them but at the same time I was annoyed and embarrassed. Aside from Lance, Angela and Hodgins were my closest friends, they were the only ones who knew about my feeling for a long time... That was intill it was 'obvious' we liked each other. Angela said our feelings were way more noticeable than Seeley and Temperance's ever was.

I looked over at Lance, a little scared for his reaction. His face was sorta blank, like he was processing everything. The redness in his cheeks gave me a little hope.

Lance let out a little chuckle “sticking us together isn't really the logical aproch” I said. Our hands had loosened up a bit, but we were still stuck.

“oh, that was actually for the case, but then my idea came into play later... It just sorta worked out” Hodgins said.

I moved my hand again and this time our hands came apart. “hey, we're un stuck” Lance smiled wipping his hands on the paper towle Angela have him.

“good...” I said standing up. “I need sometime to think” I started to leave but Angela stoped me.

“you guys did nothing wrong... Really, but I just need to process everything”

I turned to Lance who looked a little upset. I hated myself for leaving so quickly but everything was suddenly moving at hyper speed.

“I'll see you at home” I smiled at Lance. He smiled at me too as I refured to his apartment as home. He then looked down and mumbled 'bye'

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

I got home first, I paced back and forth in the living room, rehearsing what I was gonna say to Lance. Most scenarios ended with 'I love you', but other had me chickening out. After about thirty minutes and sighed and sat on the couch, maybe some TV with calm my head.

Old reruns of grey's anatomy was on, and like the rest of the world it seems like they wanted us together too. I know it was a coincidence, but the episode with Meredith Grey making the candle house for Derek and admitting her love for him hit harder than the last time I watched it.

My thoughts were cut off by the door opening and Lance's keys clinking on the table. “I'm home” he called out.

“Hey, Lance” I said softly as he walked into the living room. I shut off the TV and gave Lance my undivided attention. I knew he wanted to talk, but he looked as nervous as I was. He didn't go into shrink mode, we need to talk as Lance and y/n, not as shrink and patient. It was always so easy to talk to him, so was is it hard now?

“so you wanted to talk?” I asked, breaking the ice. Lance chuckled slight and put his hands in his pockets.

“I don't know evertime we try, we get interrupted” he slightly joked.

I softly smiled and looked down then back up at him. “well... There's no Hodgins or Experiments to interrupt us... Let's talk, we need to”

“we need to talk about us” Lance said, now standing infront of me. I looked up and gulped. He sighed and gave me a soft look. “your not scared of anything why-”

I looked up at him shocked. “scared? Lance I'm scared of everything! My father, who I am, our job, and most of all I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with you.”

I don't know what possessed me, but I walked up to him and planted a quick kiss on his lips. Lance's eyes widened and slightly pulled back. I gulped feeling I made a big mistake.

“I'm sor-” I was cut off as his hand cupped the side of my cheek pulling me closer. Our lips coiled in soft, slow kiss.

His hands fell to the back of my thighs and lifted me up, my legs locked around his waist as he walked backwards and tumbled into the couch. I stratled his lap as our lips locked. His hands fell to my waist, our eyes locked as I move my hands to the back of his neck, running my fingers though his curls. His hands moved the the back of my neck pushing his lips harder to mine. His toung gently touched my bottom lip asking for entrance. I granted him entrance as my hands fell to his chest.

“Wait” he sighs lowly, resting his forehead to mine. His chocolate eyes locked with mine. “I don't want this to be a one time thing... Y/n I've been in love with you since the day I met you”

I took Lance’s face in my hands, kissing him softly. It’s a small gesture but, it seems to more serious and intimate than you expected. “I love you too...”

He smiled and planted a quick kiss on my lips before flipping us, so I was lying on the couch with Lance hovering over me. He plated a soft kiss on my neck then move north, finding his way back to my lips as his hands moved under my shirt and gripped my waist gently.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“We're together, right?” Lance asked softly. We had found ourselves in his room and instead of sleeping we just talked into the night. I lifted my head from his chest as he started to ramble.

“We can do couple stuff like going out on dates, cuddling, making out-” I giggled and cut him off with a sweet kiss.

“I'm your Lance” his smile only got bigger as our lips locked in a loving kiss. “What did I do to deserve someone as amazing as you?” he whispered as he rested his forehead to mine.

As bizarre as it sounds, I never felt so lucky to be threatened by a criminal. I'm sure me and Lance would have found our way to each other, but this situation made the possibility happen a lot quicker. I couldn't tell you want love was intill I met Lance Sweets.

#Lance Sweets #Lance Sweets x reader #BONES #Bones x reader #Lance Sweets imagines #Seeley Booth x reader #Temperance Brennan #Bones imagines #Bones TV show

145 notes · View notes

mcgnagallsarmy · 8 months ago

Text

Spuffy style Reading Challenge - #27: Monthly Key Word Reading Challenge #3

1st month - Secret, Heaven, True, House, Come, Only, Know, Winter:

A Wonderful Awful Idea by The Danish Bird [NC-17]

With nothing apocalyptic looming on the horizon and hoping to avoid a certain thick-headed commando, it seems like the perfect opportunity when Giles mentions a monster terrorising the good people of Lake Tahoe. What could be more merry than a Christmas trip to the mountains to investigate? The gang is all coming along, defanged vampire in tow. Buffy should totally be able to deal with the demon, ignore Spike and their recent “engagement,” enjoy some resort-town shopping, and be back with Mom on Christmas Eve. Right? What could possibly go wrong? Set in season 4 at the beginning of Doomed.

2nd month - Heir, Night, Bride, Down, Women, Hand, Teach, Guest:

Drive by Holly [NC-17]

Freshly turned and very grumpy about it, Buffy finds herself in a weird place. One where her friends smell like food, her former mortal enemy smells like heaven, and the so-called love of her life has made it clear that killing her is on his to-do list. Throw in some overly zealous army guys and this is not Buffy's idea of a party. So she and Spike decide to hit the road at least long enough to figure out why neither of them can hit anything else. And since they're both single and free, well, Buffy wouldn't say no to a distraction from the never-ending laugh riot that is her life. And Spike can be very, very distracting. Good thing soulless vampires can't fall in love or she might be in trouble.

3rd month - Story, Hunt, Plot, City, You, Cry, Another, Paint:

I Can Get Money by scratchmeout [NC-17]

Spike puts his past to good use to get money for Buffy. However, things become complicated when her ex shows up and targets Spike.

4th month - Darling, Funny, Familiar, Somewhere, List, Meet, Never, Word:

First Alternate by Soulburnt [NC-17]

After ‘Not Fade Away,’ Angel gets the Shanshu. A thrilled Buffy gets her curse-free soulmate. And Spike? He gets his heart shattered again. Gutted and seeing no point in staying in a world without his Slayer, Spike doesn’t hesitate when pursuing a deadly demon through a portal. He finds himself stuck in an alternate reality where he truly died closing the Hellmouth. He also finds another Buffy, one who is devastated that her Spike didn’t believe she loved him. They console each other over their losses… but are they only consolation prizes? Or can two heartbroken people get a second chance for love?

5th month - Library, Dark, Drown, Ex, Iron, Done, Love, Stranger:

If I'm Butter Than He's a Hot Knife by scratchmeout [NC-17]

Buffy meets a man at a bar on Valentine's Day.

6th month - Ink, Fragile, Road, Summer, Breath, Every, Push, Sorry:

Favor by EllieRose101 [NC-17]

Spike asks an impossible thing of Buffy––and is stunned when she says yes. Could he really have gone up in her estimation?

7th month - Mine, Again, Honey, Paradise, Still, Club, Train, Legend:

Eucharist by Holly [NC-17]

He had it all. The prophecy and the girl, merrily ever after and all that rot. But life doesn't stop.

8th month - School, Cut, Sky, Fate, Wing, Belong, Justice, Way:

The Time We Had by Dusty [NC-17]

She was there and then gone. All his life long.

9th month - Twice, World, Man, Quiet, Sweet, Hold, Shallow, Invisible:

Pardon My French by Girlytek [R]

In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea to let Buffy perform a spell in French. Begins at No Place Like Home.

10th month - Vampire, Here, Mist, Death, One, Missing, Bite, Witch:

Sweet William by cawthraven [PG]

After the fall of Sunnydale, Buffy’s living in Boston and working as a waitress, grateful that here, not everyone knows her name. She’s free for once to be herself—and to grieve.

11th month - Spice, Life, Hello, Keep, Truly, Couple, Joy, Young:

Candy Corn Mischief by honeygirl51885 [NC-17]

Spike gets roped into taking Dawn trick-or-treating.

12th month - Snow, Season, Ice, Merry, White, Under, Mistletoe, Inn:

A Christmas Wish by all choseny [PG-13]

On one lonely Christmas Eve, Buffy makes a wish to a stranger and is given a glimpse of what might have been with Spike.

#buffy the vampire slayer #btvs #spuffy #ficrec #reading challenges #elysianholly #scratchmeout #dustyfics #boy I was really trying to have this list consist only new stories

22 notes · View notes

copiousloverofcopia · 1 year ago

Text

FINALLY, the next chapter of HOLY MARY is LIVE!!!!

Thank you all for hanging in there with me. Life has been super busy and stressful. It's been hard to find the time, energy, and inspiration to keep writing but I appreciate you all so much. Please if you like my work, share it!

HOLY MARY

Sister Mary Catherine was only weeks away from taking her vows when she has a chance encounter with a man. A man she finds out is the Pope of the Satanic church.

Chapter 8: All Good Things Must Come to an End

Also available HERE on AO3! Haven’t started yet, start from the beginning HERE!

Definitely NSFW below the cut

The rain was relentless. Cascading down from all sides. Like the biblical flood of Noah, it flowed down from the Heavens. Bathing the world in fury and rage. The Abbey inhabitants remained safely inside, unbothered by its ferocity and going about things as usual.

A few weeks had passed since Mary received the new stigmata wounds. They were now all but fully healed. The bleeding, ceasing as her belly continued to grow. Each day, passing without so much as a whisper from God—or the Devil.

If they hadn’t lived it, Terzo and Mary might have believed it never happened. The two of them, living a life that seemed to resemble normalcy. Or at least as normal as a former nun and the current Antipope, who were expecting their first child, could expect. The more days passed, the more it felt like a bad dream.

Mary had tried to bury down the thoughts of what her God had asked of her. Terzo too had been trying his best to pretend that he didn’t know what was to come. Both of them were unaware of when or if this chance at happiness would be ripped away once again. Settling into feelings that were surreal and always on edge.

Primo, too, was baffled by it all. Wondering why the stigmata wounds were healing. Unlike the starry-eyed couple, who had chosen to hide behind the present moments of brightness, he was unconvinced. Primo knew deep down, this false sense of security would soon end and that there was no way Lucifer and God would allow things to remain as they were.

Despite it all, the one who seemed to be going through the worst of it was Secondo. Sulking about the Abbey as if he was more hurt and anyone else. Wearing his despair on his sleeve like an obvious stain that refused to come out. Unapproachable as ever with each passing day.

In the hollow of the confession booth, he sat. Head down and wringing his hands. Secondo, struggling with the urges he had been so desperately trying to control. His thoughts about Mary, only growing more intense as the time passed.

Still seething with jealousy with every passing glance at her sweet face or the curve of her belly. He was more broken now than he had ever been before. A man once filled with dark righteousness, the likes that only Primo had surpassed. Now his constitution was slowly crumbling inside him.

He had sought sanctuary in the booth. Hoping to find some solace in prayer, but his mind and the growing bulge in his pants would not allow it. He released himself, hard cock springing up and already dripping with need. He took it in his hand, biting his lower lip as he began thrusting up into it.

Mary’s name on his lips as he fucked his own fist. The supple leather aiding him as he pretended it was her tightening cunt. The warmth inside her, surrounding him as she held on to his chasuble. Crying out from the pleasure with their coupling and both of them engulfed in pleasure.

It wasn’t long before Secondo was grunting and pumping. Harder and harder as he felt the pressure building up inside. Finally spilling himself over his hand. Quickly retrieving an emerald-colored mouchoir from his pocket to cleanse himself of his shame. Reality setting back in quickly with the clarity of his orgasm.

“Satan, Morningstar. Brightest amongst those who fell from Heaven. I am your servant. From the moment of my conception, until I am consumed by Hellfire…I shall worship you.” he whispered as he dropped to his knees in the booth. “I have never asked anything from you. Not so much as a word. Even when you spoke to Primo and not myself, I have never defied you. Never turned from your will, your darkness—or refused any command. But now…now I must ask you—why? Why did you choose him?”

The silence was deafening. Secondo, shaking his hand as the storm continued to rage outside. Lightning, illuminating the chapel all around the booth while he sat in the darkness. Listening to the sound of the crashing of the wind as he closed his eyes. The loud pounding of the rain hitting the old cathedral style windows that lined the room. The wind whipped drops hitting the colored panes like bullets from the Heavens.

“Heh…” he chuckled a bit to himself, shaking his head. “Still, it seems the Heavens weep for what's to come—a child of Hell.” Secondo continued. “A child of darkness and Terzo, his worldly father… Fucking speak to me! Why do you leave me in silence? Have I not proven my loyalty to you? Shepherded your flock? Given my life in your service?” he growled.

Of course, you have. Even now you honor me with your lust and envy.

A voice spoke from the void of the darkness. Secondo, rushing up onto his feet, his heart pounding in his ears and his eyes blown wide. He took a moment, listening and standing still. Allowing his heart rate to slow as the booth filled with nothing but the sounds of his breathing.

“Lu-Lucifer?” he spoke into the darkness. Feeling the weight of an otherworldly hand upon his shoulder. One that felt as if it had manifested from the walls of the booth.

How could I deny such a request to speak with you Secondo. Afterall you made it abundantly clear that you have been such a good servant.

Secondo could hardly believe it. The voice of the profane one, the bringer of darkness, Lucifer had finally spoken to him. Had this been any other moment he would have relished it. Reveled in the glory that it was to be chosen to hear his word straight from his cursed lips. Now however all he could think of was his own pain.

“Why was I not given the chance to…to...”

To fuck her? Defile her divine womb with your unholy seed?

Secondo fell quiet. Of course, the secret of his desire was known to Satan. Worn plainly on his face like the black and white of his corpse paints. “Yes...” he uttered beneath his breath. A roar of laughter broke out in tandem with the storm. The infernal sound ringing in Secondo’s ears.

Who said you can’t? What's stopping you from spilling yourself inside her right now?

“It's too late. She belongs to him. I will never have the chance.” Secondo lamented. He felt the hand slowly slip from his shoulders.

Tsk tsk tsk… all that ambition and passion I watched before, your mind set on EXACTLY what you wanted. Seems it's all gone now—or is it?

Suddenly the air felt different. The silence, assuring Secondo that once more that he was alone in the booth. His mind, heavy with the words of his dark God. His pants still very much unzipped.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the bowels of the Abbey Primo sat in communion with the spirits. The whispers and shrieks, seeping through to the world of the living and speaking their truths to him. Primo had gotten his answer. Before he was able to leave there was a pounding at the chamber door.

“Che cazzo? Chi sarebbe così stupido da disturbarmi?” he scoffed as he stood up and approached the door. Lifting up the latch and opening it to reveal Terzo. “Fratellino, I am glad it’s you. There is something we must discuss…and now.”

“What is it? I have been pacing around upstairs all day fratello. Waiting for you to come and tell me what the fuck is going on. Why has it all suddenly stopped? I must know what you have learned?” Terzo begged him. He had only become increasingly more anxious as things went on. Only mere weeks remained before Mary and him would welcome their son and he had, still, withheld the truth from her.

Primo seemed to be someplace else for a moment as he stared at Terzo. His gaze, feeling as if he looked through him instead of at him. He grabbed hold of Terzo’s shirt and began dragging him back upstairs. When finally, he spoke, his words were only more concerning.

“We have company.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mary stretched out on the bed, gently trying to sit up. Her body, much harder to maneuver now than ever before. She smiled, ready to find Terzo, wherever he might be tucked away, and drag him back into bed with her. Spending another day together before the two would become three. Something however felt wrong the moment she got upright in the bed.

The wounds on her head, back, and chest began burning a bit as she got up out of the bed. Mary moved to put on her robe, hit with the feeling that she was spinning around in the room though she’d stood still. She brought her hand to her mouth as the wave of nausea hit her and then she heard it.

“Be not afraid.” a voice said from behind her. Panic sent coursing through her like blood in her veins. Mary sent over, fainting after her vision suddenly went black. When she began coming to, only a few moments later, she felt that someone was helping guide her back to the bed.

She began to relax, believing that it was Terzo. But when her vision returned, she quickly found out she was wrong. The haze cleared, revealing to her a stranger—a dark-haired, blue-eyed stranger. He seemed to almost be glowing before her. His appearance was pleasing to the eye. Tall, broad shouldered, and well dressed in a cream-colored suit. His dark hair, flowy and combed back away from his face. Despite his handsome features she felt uneasy in his presence.

“Be not afraid Mary.” he said once more. She had finally had enough sense about her to respond, but despite his statement she was still very much afraid.

“Who? Who are you?” she asked him, withdrawing backward towards the middle of the bed. Gripping tight to her covers as if they might shield her from any ill intentions.

“I am the one sent to Nazareth. The one who announced to the Holy Mother, that with just a whisper by the spirit she would conceive Christ our lord—I am the one they call Gabriel.” he told her. Instantly Mary was moved to tears. The man’s body, beginning to change—allowing her to see the full glory of his shine coming from within. The mass of wings, unfurling from behind him. Revealing to her that he was in fact the archangel he claimed to be.

“Why? Why have you come here?” she demanded.

“You know why Mary. Your time is running out. Soon that child will be born and your chance at paradise will fall like the Morningstar from the Heavens.” he explained.

“No—I won’t…I can’t.”

“Do you not understand the filth that you carry?” he asked her, genuinely confused how she could want to let this continue on.

“I am the sinner! This child has never committed anything against God. He is innocent!” Mary cried. Gabriel’s face fell to the bed. He shook his head before beginning to crawl towards her. Mary shifted back as far as she could until she felt herself almost fall off the edge of the bed.

“That child you carry is the greatest of sin. The vessel for Antichrist. The body chosen to hold the most unholy of souls, one that awaits to trample over any other that might try and lay claim towards it.” Gabriel unveiled. Suddenly it became clear to him. From the spectral pallor of Mary’s face and the horror in her eyes, it was obvious. “Oh…you really didn’t know.”

“No! You’re lying!” she screamed, Gabriel beginning to laugh in her face. He quickly grabbed her. Painfully holding tight to her arms so that she couldn’t move away from him. Mary gritted her teeth, spitting in his face as she continued to cry. The tears, staining her cheeks in redness.

“Oh, I wish I were. You have sinned against God himself and consorted with the highest of the Devil’s order…conceiving a child. This child will be the ender of nations. The harbinger of the end times Mary. All that you love, including your little painted lover, will be taken away in the burning Hellfire. It will consume you, as it will the rest of the world.” he yelled back. He reached into his jacket and pulled from it a dagger. The blade, old as time itself and glinting in the light that poured in from the window. Sharp enough to pierce flesh with such ease it could cut the fabric of time itself.

“Terzo! Oh fuck! Help me! No!” Mary screamed as she managed to pull away from him, running across the room before Gabriel flew at her. Holding tight to her shoulder and running the back of the blade along the swell of Mary’s belly. She shuttered before him, the tears spilling faster and faster as she was certain her and her child would be killed. Then something surprising happened.

“Here.” Gabriel said as he handed over the blade. Mary, stunned, gripped it tight in her hand. Looking at it in sheer awe as the dagger emanated intensely with celestial power. Her mind, still spinning and more confused— more scared than ever.

“What? You’re not going to? Why?” she asked him.

“It has to be you.” Gabriel explained, looking at her with almost pleading eyes.

“If what you say is true, why doesn’t God strike me down? End this now before, as you said, it's too late?” she asked him. Gabriel let out a bit of a nefarious chuckle.

“Free will… it’s a helluva thing.” he winked. Suddenly Terzo, Secondo, and a pack of their ghouls swarmed the room. Bursting in to find the angel had already begun dissipating just as quickly as he had appeared. Terzo quickly ran to Mary who still held the blade in her hands. Grabbing it from her and throwing it before pulling her into his arms.

“Mary are you alright…is the baby?” he asked as he looked her over. Relieved that she seemed to be uninjured. The ghouls went crazy, sniffing around the room for a hint of the angel's scent, convinced that he might still be there as Terzo tried his best to calm Mary.

“The baby…”

“What about the baby?” he asked her. Mary looked at him, her eyes filled now with anger and pain.

“You knew, didn’t you?” she snapped, pulling away from Terzo.

“Knew what Mary? What’s wrong?” Terzo asked. Then came the sharp sting of Mary’s hand slapping him across his face. Smearing his pants and leaving a red mark, welting in their wake.

“The baby is evil. He will become the Antichrist. You knew this whole time and you let me continue to carry him inside me! You let me take it this far. Now I damn us all!” she screamed before lifting up in the air before them. The ghouls, Terzo, and Secondo, all backing up in panic as they watched her rise up.

Mary screamed more, frightened as she hung in the air. Blood, beginning to pour down her face—blinding her before them. Then she began thrashing around, midair, as the marks on her back reappeared. Like lashes from a whip, crimson marks, crisscrossing along her shoulders and back. Terzo and Secondo ran towards her but were thrown backwards as they approached. An unseen force keeping them from interfering with whatever was happening.

“Secondo, fucking get Primo! Maybe he can stop this!” Terzo cried as the two of them tried to stand up. The ghouls continued hissing and growling as a light began shining out from within Mary’s wounds. Blood spilling as the droplets hovered in the air.

“Go! Go!” Secondo yelled as he and his ghouls took off immediately for Primo. Terzo fell to his knees before Mary. Watching in horror as she was tortured before him. Unable to stop it. Mary began screaming harder as the wounds reappeared in her hands. So much blood, dripping all along the ground beneath her.

“There will be great tribulation, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be.” Mary whispered through her tears. Terzo reached out for her again, watching as her feet began to bleed. The nail wounds had now appeared in the center of them as Mary collapsed onto the ground.

“Mary! No!” Terzo yelled as he rushed for her. Picking up her bloodied and battered body in his arms. Crying harder as he felt the gentle kicking of his child from inside her. Terrified that it was too late to stop anything. Finally, Secondo returned to the room with Primo and more ghouls, but it was too late. Mary had received four of the sacred wounds—and only one remained before she and the child would be killed.

Secondo placed his hand on Terzo’s shoulder as Primo rounded them. Dropping to the floor and pressing his fingers into Mary’s neck. Frantically searching for her pulse. Letting out a heavy exhale when it found it faintly present.

“She’s alive. We need to get her to the infirmary now fratello.” he explained. Terzo nodded as the ghouls helped to pick Mary up from the floor and rush her to the physician. Primo and Secondo stood silently in the room as Terzo remained, kneeling on the floor and covered in his lover's blood. Crying out as he spoke to his brothers.

“This is all my fault.”

Notes:

Che cazzo? Chi sarebbe così stupido da disturbarmi?- What in the fuck? Who would be stupid enough to disturb me?

“There will be great tribulation, such as has not been from the beginning of the world until now, no, and never will be.” -Matthew 24:21

#Holy Mary #Terzo x Catholic nun #Terzo x OC Mary #Terzo #papa iii #papa emeritus iii #ren writes #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfics #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost fanfiction

49 notes · View notes

majesticwren · 8 months ago

Text

due to high demand - me. I'm high demand. this entire project is being written entirely for my pleasure, be warned I'm being extremely self-indulgent - I've decided to write a little prequel to the events that take place here. this is set in 2018 and is the beginning of Fletch x OFC. billy will have his own little prequel at some point. enjoy.

Trigger Warning/s: alcohol consumption, mention of addiction, mention of sex, mention of trauma, sexual harassment, swearing, OFC is her own trigger warning she is damaged goods and slightly toxic, kyle is a little baby, mark is being overprotective and extremely toxic sorry not sorry, angst, mainly friends to lovers/impossible relationship dynamics.

nuclear season: part I -> | part II -> | part III -> prequel: part II -> | part III -> | part IV -> Masterlist

January 2018

There was always something melancholically romantic about an empty venue after a show. Seeing a place that had been crowded, hot and loud for hours suddenly empty and silent had a particular bittersweet vibe to it.

Erika sat on one of the foldable chairs at ringside, one leg crossed over her knee, swinging her foot to the beat of the seconds, looking around as she waited. Trying to pass the time, she fiddled with a lock of her hair.

The lights of the venue were now all switched on, making the ring at the centre of the room look extremely surgical. A couple of RevPro workers were dismantling it, pulling the apron and starting to take down the ropes. Erika moved her attention to another person on the other side of the room who was folding up the chairs, ready to load them away.

Erika tapped her foot on the floor. It was sticky under the sole of her show because of the spilt over drinks. She took some time to count the abandoned plastic cups and forgotten items she could see all over the place, making it look like the crowd partied hard. Which wasn’t far from reality. They had a good crowd at the show that night and everyone seemed to have enjoyed themselves wrestlers and guests alike.

She was proud of many of the pictures she had taken. There was a content smile nested on her lips as she was aware she had probably made rent with that event.

There were many pros to working in wrestling. It was a career she hadn’t considered before, even though she had been around the scene for years since her brother was such a massive fan and had been wrestling already for over ten years. So, she had her fair bit of knowledge and was charmed by that world but had never thought it possible to make a career out of it.

Still, now she wasn’t entirely convinced her dream had come true. Somehow, she thought she didn’t deserve it and considered it a privilege. She had hurt and disappointed so many people before, too used to being a problematic teenager than this new responsible adult that Erika was convinced it was only a matter of time before she fell into her old habits again.

But, at the moment, she was enjoying doing what she was doing and paying her living doing liked most. Photography was her life. She loved taking pictures, framing moments and making them hers forever. Plus, her job was fun and granted her the possibility not only to travel and meet many people, but she got to do it all with her dear big brother.

The most important part of following that dream, though, was that it gave her the chance to leave Australia for good. She had followed Mark to the UK only for a few weeks now and yet she hadn’t missed home once. She was always convinced that remaining in Brisbane would have meant the withering of her. There was too much of her past there and she just knew she would have never escaped it.

But, no matter how far she travelled, there was a fear always hidden inside of her that painfully reminded her how easily she could have slipped and ruined her life again.

So easy. So tempting.

“Hey, there,”

She jumped, startled when she heard that voice so close. Erika gasped, placing a hand on her chest as her gaze distractedly lifted on the tall, slim boy approaching her.

“Sorry, mate, didn’t mean to scare ya,”

Erika focused her attention on Kyle and melted into a smile, shaking her head. “Please, don’t be sorry. I was miles away.”

He approached her with a soft smile crossing his fair features. He looked like an elf, with his sharp edges, high cheekbones and glimmering, light eyes. There was something about the boy she was attracted to like a magnet. She couldn’t explain it but she couldn’t take her attention off him either. Although she didn’t trust herself enough to let herself go in that feeling. She and boys weren’t a good match. Her past was full of bad decisions and she had no intention of making another one.

Especially with a pretty, sweet boy like Kyle seemed to be. Especially since he was so close to Mark not only as his colleague and team partner but being taken in like a little brother as well. She just couldn’t risk it.

“Can I sit?” He pointed at the chair to her side.

“Of course,” Erika nodded, trying to shake the cringe off herself. Her skin rippled in goosebumps only thinking about having him too close. She couldn’t think too clearly when he looked at her, which was just ridiculous.

He dropped his bag with his ring gear on the floor and fell heavily on the little chair distending his long legs. “So, what do you think about the show?”

“I think it was great!” Erika smiled, looking at him and damning herself for the excitement it gave her to share a moment alone with Kyle. She felt the butterflies in her stomach warming up. “That move you did,” she tried to regain focus, looking back on the ring, “off the top buckle? That was so good!”

“You think?” He wondered following her eyes to the ring. “I thought I landed badly and everyone noticed.”

“Well, if you did, I didn’t see it.” Erika didn’t mention how closely she was looking at his moves. She cleared her voice, lifting her professional camera. “I took a cool shot of your front flip mid-air, wanna see?”

“Hell yeah,” Kyle scooted closer, looking over her shoulder as she fiddled with her camera.

Erika tried her best to remain calm and not react to his closeness but it was hard. His scent was inebriating, he smelled of clean linen and lavender. It made her mouth water and her hands shake with the desire to push her face into his neck and inhale.

She shrugged off a shiver, concentrating on the dozens and dozens of pictures she was scrolling through and then smiled when she finally found the one, showing it to him from the small camera screen. “There it is. It will look a thousand times better once I develop it. But even like this, it looks pretty good.”

“Shit me,” Kyle attentively took her camera into his hands, handling it with care as he looked into the screen, examining the picture she took. “Is that how I look when I do it?”

Erika nodded. “Cool uh? You look very good.”

“Could I have a copy of the picture once you develop it?”

“Of course! I mean, I generally do give the guys I work for a hard copy and a file copy that I share with the wrestlers too. So, you’ll be good to go.”

“Can I have a look at the rest of the pictures?”

“Yes,” Erika cleared her voice, “I mean, I haven’t peaked through them so most of them will be off-focus or blurry but sure.”

As he pressed the little arrow button, starting to look at all the pictures she had taken of the evening, Erika slowly started to feel a warm feeling spread through her. She was suddenly fidgety, wondering what went on in his mind as he looked at what she could do. It was somehow intimate, showing to him. Erika’s pictures were used by companies and wrestlers alike on their socials, but no one knew it came from her, there. This felt like Kyle just had access to a very personal window of how she viewed the world.

“Wow, you are good at this,” Kyle smiled distractedly, still scrolling through her work. “These are so good.”

Erika blushed. And immediately froze, feeling panic settling in her nerves. She looked away, imposing herself to find some control over her emotions. She had never blushed before, not for a boy anyway.

“Thank you,” she pushed her hand out, hinting to him to give her back the camera. “It won’t take me long to get the pictures fixed up and printed, so you can see them once they are done.”

“Do you have a studio?” He wondered with interest stretching on the chairs by his side.

Erika shook her head. “I will in a few weeks. I am trying to get a lease on a tiny hole of an office from where I’ll be able to work. I am planning to have a proper dark room and maybe even a desk space to hire an assistant. But for now, I am doing it the old-fashioned way,”

“What’s that?”

“My laptop.” She explained shrugging, “It’s a bit of a hit or miss kind of job, sometimes it pays well, sometimes it doesn’t. But I think I can make it work better If I get access to an office space.”

“Like an investment.”

“Yes,” Erika smiled, appreciating his care to know details about her more than what she was supposed to. “Exactly that.”

“Are you coming out with us tonight?” He then wondered leaning his head to the side.

She felt his eyes on her and wanted to bask under his attention. She had never had a problem with that. Generally, she thrived when she was under the spotlight. She was a very confident young woman aware of her appearance. Maybe too much, sometimes. She had won many things, in the past, because of her pretty face. Especially hearts. She was used to having it her way, but when she decided she wanted someone there wasn’t escaping it. Except with Kyle felt different. She didn’t want to conquer him or win him over. She liked him. Not only his appearance, even though his large smile made her feel things she had never felt before. The real deal was the kindness of heart he had; he was so polite in the way he behaved, and he wore his heart on his sleeve and wasn’t apologetic about it.

Plus, he was spoiling her. Kyle made her feel seen and listened to in ways she wasn’t used to. Which said a lot about the relationships or situationships she had in the past.

And that was precisely why it was so dangerous to play with that fire and she did everything in her power to fight against it. She could see it would lead to ruin for all parties involved.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” She looked away, sadness settling in, aching in her chest.

She wanted to go. She wanted to spend some time socialising. She wanted to be around him. But precisely because he seemed to want her there, she was better off staying away from booze and pretty boys.

“What!? Really? There’s a darts tournament between the guys, sure you want to miss that? I mean not to brag, but I’d beat you at darts.” He winked.

Erika felt flushed. “I’d love that because I think I might be good a darts” she damned herself as soon as she said that, “But I have an early train in the morning. Can’t miss it.”

“Oh, I see. Well. that’s a shame,”

“Next time, maybe?”

“You are on.”

“Oi,” A deep, thunderous voice echoed through the empty venue. Both she and Kyle jumped on their seat, turning over to find Mark waiting. “Ready to go?”

Erika huffed, looking over at her brother studying them. He didn’t seem too happy and she knew why. So, even before he could say anything, she jumped up and grabbed her back and jacket, putting some distance with Kyle.

“What were you doing?” He wondered quietly once she was close.

Erika shrugged. “Nothing, we were waiting for you.”

Before he could say anything more, Kyle approached her side and the two exchanged a fist bump. Mark didn’t continue, but she could see the concern hiding in his gaze. And it hurt her.

Mark hid behind a smile as he welcomed the boy, “Hey, mate,” he was so affectionate to Kyle that it made her heartache. She was happy they met. Kyle was a good friend to her brother. But, again, that was yet another complication and another reason for her to stay as far from the Aussie as she could.

“I’m gonna head home,” she started, hinting at the door as she fixed her bag on her shoulder.

“Yeah?” Mark looked at her, “I thought you were coming to the pub?”

“Nah,” Erika shook her head. She wished she didn’t but her gaze wandered on Kyle briefly. “I am quite tired. I think it’s for the best.”

“Okay,” Mark pulled her into a hug, kissing her forehead. “Grab a cab though. I don’t want you around the underground alone at this hour.”

“I’ll call one now. You boys go ahead and have fun. I’ll leave the light on in the hall for you when you come home.”

She watched them approaching the venue door. Mark pulled Kyle under his arm as they walked and they merged with some of the other wrestlers on the show that same night. A few of the boys waved goodbye at her before they left. Just then, she approached the bar counter, releasing a soft sigh.

“Hey,” she hinted at the barman cleaning up, “would you be so kind to call me a cab, mate?” She wasn’t even trying to hide her disappointment. Just thinking about all that she may be missing made her heartache. It felt like the more distance there was between her and Kyle, the more she hurt.

Pathetic. She had to snap out of that little crush and get over it. And fast.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he stepped towards her, “can I get you a drink while you wait? On the house,” the boy winked at her. His flirtatious behaviour bounced right off her. His charm too, didn’t bother her.

“Nah, thank you, I am good.”

She could see the barman’s interest following her movements as he leaned on the counter in front of her. He was an attractive man, sure, and she had no doubt his pretty face and that little stunt of chatting up the ladies probably got him places before. She knew it all too well. She was it too. But even though she knew well how it worked and she felt like she should have been fluttered by his attention, maybe even intrigued, it just slid off her without making her feel a thing. If not slight discomfort.

Before he could say or ask something else, Kyle ran back in, approaching her. “Hey, Erika?”

“Yes?” She immediately turned towards him, not even noticing how much her heart and body moved for the Aussie. “What is it? You ok?”

“Yes, yeah,” he nodded, sliding a hand to the back of his neck. He was blushing so sweetly it made her think about strawberries. Though his eyes were bright and sharp as he looked at her. “I was wondering, could I have your number?”

Erika choked. She knew everything wrong with that. It was the same reason why she wasn’t allowing herself to go out. It was why she avoided being around the house alone with Fletch when Mark wasn’t around. It was why she had avoided being around him in general. Except when she didn’t and fell into whatever it was that attracted them like magnets.

It was stronger than her common sense, she was nodding even before she could think straight and kept being selfish as Kyle offered her his phone for her to type her number in.

He was smiling like an idiot. Or maybe it was her.

When he got his phone back, he held it like a trophy. “Thanks,”

“Don’t tell Mark,” She suggested, probably saying the first smart thing in a minute.

Kyle offered her the largest of smiles and then dashed off.

As he left, she felt all the warmth he brought with him leaving her body and making her feel empty.

“That little prick has balls,” the guy behind the bar chuckled.

Erika smiled, still looking at the door. “That he does.”

“So, how is it that a pretty girl like you is not going out celebrating with all those boys?”

Erika tapped her nails on the wood, starting to feel an itch under her skin. She wanted to be vague, she knew what was the polite, British way of just generally saying stuff without actually saying anything to strangers. But she was too tired for that too. Politeness hardly got her anywhere.

“Well, let me tell you,” She began, “Got a crush on that little prick,” she vaguely pointed at the door, “he is my brother’s best friend and I can’t afford to fuck that up so,” she huffed, “I am staying well clear and doing everything in my power to get over him.”

“But you just gave him your number.”

“Yes, I never said I was smart at it.”

The guy behind the bar smiled. “I’m Matt, by the way,”

“Erika,” she said as they shook hands.

“So, Erika,” he looked up at her, hitting her up with a gaze she was sure had conquered many hearts before, “Want some help forgetting about the little prick?”

The proper way was to politely decline, get a cab, go home and do her best to accept going to bed alone. That would have been the new adult, mature way to deal with the situation. She was well aware of what was expected of her. But still chose otherwise.

The comfort of her old ways, knowing exactly what would have happened and how she would have felt was much better than knowing how much she was going to be eaten up by regrets, alone, in her little room.

“What time do you get off?” She wondered melting into a smile.

She didn’t much care for the guy himself. But he offered a distraction and it seemed like a valid idea not to think about Kyle.

“Half an hour.”

She nodded and took a seat on one of the stools, “In that case, I’ll take that drink, thank you.”

February 2018

A few weeks later, Erika stood in the centre of the small room she could call an office.

The place was a little dishevelled. It was dark, cold and a little dump; the rent was overpriced, but it was hers. The walls could have done with a new touch of paint, and she was convinced the space would have looked much more welcoming and personal with pictures hanging up; the carpet seriously needed a deep cleaning, and the sad curtains by the windows needed to be retired, but she still looked at it with the most pride.

A smile crossed her lips, and her heart was leaping out of her chest as she toyed with the set of keys the agency gave her. She still didn’t feel secure enough to trust her dream coming true, but that was a pretty big step forward compared to where she had come from only six months before.

“Hey-o,” she recognised Kyle’s voice immediately as he chirped from the entrance door, “anybody in there? Erika?”

Her heart jumped out of her chest.

“Come on in!” She welcomed him, skipping back to the door where she found the Aussie. “What are you doing here?”

As soon as he saw her, he whipped out a massive smile and pulled, from behind his back, a big bunch of colourful flowers and a bottle of bubbles. “Well, I thought the situation required celebrating!” He offered her his presents.

Erika’s chest tightened as she took the flowers and brought them up so she could smell them. Then she took the bottle too, looking at it with interest. She melted into a sweet smile, immediately damning herself for what she was feeling.

Whatever tied her to Kyle only got stronger and deeper day by day. She tried to fight it. She tried to deflect and lie to herself, pretending that ignoring it all was enough to make it disappear. And yet, Kyle was constantly there to remind her how wrong she was.

She just needed to look at him to feel a magnetism pulling her towards him, making her hands tremble with the need to touch him. But it was a constant battle she fought, leaving her feeling cold and empty every time she denied herself her wish.

And yet, he kept coming. He kept being there, around her, everywhere, even when they were far from each other, she still felt him. Every day he made it a point to wish her good morning and good night. He’d ask her about her day and listen with interest to everything she had to say. He’d make her laugh. He’d give her compliments. He was just present in her life. How she wished she could say confidently they were only friends.

But friends didn’t desperately wish to kiss each other.

Thinking about that made her realise she was looking at his lips and she had to force herself off the thought.

“Thank you, Fletch, this is so sweet of you,” she looked up at him, leaning her head to the side, “I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Why did you think I asked you the address of this place?” He chuckled, “I wanted to make sure you welcomed this new chapter with the right energy.”

Erika smiled, absolutely smitten by him and his selfless, unashamed caring.

“Thank you,” before she could even think clearly and stop herself, she leaned in for a hug. Her intention was for it to be quick and polite. That was what friends did, wasn’t it? She couldn’t be further from the truth.

Kyle welcomed her with a soft hold and, by the time she wrapped her arms loosely around his waist and pressed her face into his chest, the world stopped spinning.

Erika tightened her hold around him, only for Kyle to do the same, taking the initiative to lean his chin on the top of her head, cradling her softly.

There was no salvation after that for her. Erika was toasted. Her heart was beating so fast inside her chest that she was sure he could feel it too. Her stomach twisted as warmth flooded through her, fuzzing her thoughts and waking up a hunger, a desire in her lower abdomen that would only hurt with every second she wouldn’t give into it.

“I wanted to be here for you, today,” he gave away, brushing a soft, intimate kiss on her temple.

Erika looked up at him and Kyle’s bright gaze fell into hers as he dived into her eyes. He was so close his scent was inebriating her senses. He looked so pretty she couldn’t take it.

“Did you come alone?”

Kyle nodded, “Your brother doesn’t even know I am here.”

Erika felt so dirty for lying to Mark.

They had kept a low profile, pretending nothing was going on and they hadn’t spent the past weeks texting. Sometimes they’d text from across the same room and Mark would take the piss out of Kyle for texting his “little lady”, not knowing she was the one receiving his interest. They made a little joke out of it, but Erika didn’t find it funny.

She hated shutting Mark out. He knew everything about her and could read her like a book. But he didn’t know that part. She was terrified of his reaction if he had known what was going on between her and Kyle, which was nothing. She lied to herself too, constantly. Even though the second she found herself around Kyle it was undeniable she was the most clueless of them all.

Erika gulped, looking down at Kyle’s lips again, unable not to, his mouth was so attractive to her. Especially when he was so close.

Kyle dared to cup her face in his palms. Erika sighed, closing her eyes and letting herself go in his soft hold. His hands were big and warm. And she was dying to feel them all over her.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered, so close to her face she tasted his breath on her tongue. A hot shiver crossed her. “I like you, Erika. Been liking you a while.”

“Kyle,” she tried to find some common sense, although only the idea of refusing him ripped her chest apart. “We can’t.”

“Why?”

“Mark,” she was still holding the flowers and the bottle of bubbly in her hands, and even though she was trying to fight for her life not to succumb to him, she didn’t even dare to move an inch away. “He’d never approve.”

“Leave him to me. I am sure if there’s someone he’d like to be with his sister, that would be me.”

“No, Kyle, it’s not you the one he wouldn’t approve of. It’s me. I am not good for you,”

“Let me decide that.”

“You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me,”

“Then tell me. I want to know you.”

Erika chuckled dryly, quickly dismissing him. He would have run away, as far as possible from her if he had known half of the things she did.

“I mean it,” he continued, “I want to know everything about you.”

“You make it so hard,” she whispered, moulding herself in his hold as Kyle softly caressed her jawline.

“I am not hearing a good reason to stop.” He leaned in, brushing his lips on her forehead, “Tell me no and I’ll fuck off. But if you want it too,” as he moved, hovering above her, Erika moved her head, raising her chin only so their lips would touch. “Then,” he continued, whispering so close to her mouth it gave her goosebumps.

Before he could continue, Erika took the worst decision of her life and, dropping the flowers on the floor, she grabbed him by his t-shirt and pulled him down in a kiss, desperately clinging onto him and releasing everything she had stopped herself from feeling for so long. Selfishly taking everything she wanted from him.

Kyle blindly closed the door behind him and then his arms wrapped around her, pulling her against him. His hands ran across her body, feeling her curves, grabbing on her clothes, only to pull her tighter against him.

Unapologetically, Kyle slipped a hand into her hair grabbing a handful and made her bend underneath him, deepening their kiss. As soon as their tongues crossed and his flavour exploded into her mouth, Erika released a soft moan, feeling her body waking up completely.

However, before she could slip into deeper waters of desire and future regrets, Erika gathered the strength to push him off herself.

“Kyle, please stop,” her breath was heavy as she kept her hand on his chest, not to keep him far from her but to feel him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He wondered, checking she was ok.

Erika shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts. Because the only wrong she could identify in that entire situation was the distance between them.

She had a taste. She scratched the itch. That was going to be it. It was going to have to be enough.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. We can’t happen. Please,” her heart shattered into a million pieces seeing the look he gave her. “Please,” she whispered again, almost getting lost in his eyes.

Kyle accepted her choice and let her go, taking two steps back. He leaned picking up the flowers and passed them over to her, shrugging awkwardly. “Here, take them.”

She felt defeated as she accepted the flowers back. She couldn’t bear the idea of seeing him leave and didn’t want to accept them being done. It was supposed to be the way, just severing their little fling or whatever, but she was stupid and selfish.

“Do you want a little tour?” She wondered, hoping Kyle would indulge her.

He didn’t disappoint and melted into a gentle smile, nodding. “I’d love to.”

They held hands as she showed him around, telling him everything about how she envisioned her studio.

March 2018

Erika stood ringside, her trusted camera at hand as she watched the match through its lenses.

The crowd was hot tonight. They clapped and booed, chanted and roared and were generally super involved in the matches, which was something she always loved to see.

Erika moved around the ring, taking every occasion to grab a shot, just like she always did, capturing as much of the energy in the ring as she could.

The two boys going at it right now were new in the company, she never met them before, but that didn’t change a single thing in the way the crowd perceived them. The heel was doing his job, flipping everyone off at any given occasion only to get everyone’s boos up. And the other, being the good guy he was, was there to make him regret it every time.

How she loved wrestling. It was such a theatrical, highly athletic pantomime.

The match ended with the good guy pinning the heel. The crowd went wild. Erika too, smiled, as she kept taking her shots of the guy celebrating.

Then, as the guys cleared out and the announcer moved back to the ring, starting to explain the next match on the mic, Erika moved too towards the wrestlers’ entrance, readying her camera to capture Aussie Open’s entrance.

Of course, she was working for the wrestling company and her work needed to be equally good for all the participants in the events. But she couldn’t help herself from having favourites. The number of pictures she had taken of Kyle and her brother that she had never sold because they were candid shots of two guys and had nothing to do with wrestling was embarrassing. Especially of Kyle’s. She loved taking his pictures. But that was a secret, of course.

Still, she patiently waited there, camera at hand, kneeling to take a good shot of them coming out in their new shiny, matchy gear.

Aussie Open was announced and their music started as they rolled out, basking in the crowd's welcome.

Erika smiled behind the camera, taking her pictures as the two posed and then moved with them to the ring.

Mark and Kyle slipped through the ropes and circled the apron, looking into the room, and pointing at people in the crowd only to get a reaction. They were both talking some shit either to the crowd or to each other, fully committed to their role.

Then, as Kyle confidently strode by the corner she was hanging around, he broke character one moment to look down at her, offering her one of his sweet smiles. “Hey, baby,”

Erika took a picture of him, grabbing that moment for herself. He called her baby now. Not always, but when he did it made her feel warm all over. It was so hard for her not to reach out and touch him.

Mark approached Kyle and landed a heavy hand on his shoulder, bringing him to turn as the announcer presented their competitors. Erika moved around the ring again, towards the entrance, ready to go back to being a hundred per cent professional.

She kneeled by the crowd, exchanging a quick, polite smile with a couple of guys by her side who seemed to be enjoying the show just like everyone else. She leaned ready to take her shots.

And then Erika was stricken. Nothing could have prepared her for the frosty feeling taking over her as the heavy hand of a stranger landed on her ass, giving her an unrequired smack. She felt the stranger’s touch straight into her stomach and it made her twitch as his fingers dared to squeeze on her.

She turned quickly towards him and raised her camera, taking a shot of his face. She acted out of instinct, not thinking about the consequences. It was the only thing she could consciously think of doing. No words were coming out. Not even anger. Just pure, disgusted surprise.

“Hey,” he angrily confronted her, trying to grab her camera, “Cancel that, you bitch. I haven’t permitted you to take a picture of my face.”

She wanted to say she hadn’t permitted him to squeeze her ass either. It was on the tip of her tongue. And yet. Nothing came out.

Erika stepped away, hiding her camera behind her back, feeling something close to fear choke her as the guy stood up, ready to chase her. She truly thought he was going to hurt her.

“Hey, hey, you prick,” Kyle shouted, jumping off the ring, and intervening. By then, everyone’s attention was on what was happening there.

Mark followed Kyle as they both stepped in between Erika and the guy in the crowd, who was proud and drunk enough to face them, even when he was no match for either of the Aussies.

“I’ll break that hand of yours, you cunt,” Mark barked.

Kyle stepped in between them, shielding Erika with his body. “You ok?” He touched her face, looking down at her.

Erika didn’t refuse him. Her hands travelled to his wrists, as she moulded under his touch appreciating his closeness. “Yes,” she huffed, her eyes escaping Kyle’s as she looked back at her brother, making sure he didn’t do anything stupid. “I’m ok,” She then tapped on Mark’s shoulder, “Don’t bother,” she suggested, even though the guys seemed to be ecstatic to receive attention. “Mark? Please, leave it alone.”

“Maybe you should get her to wear something more covering. You can’t blame me.” The guy was drunk. He was mumbling his nonsense only looking for a fight and Erika hated that she didn’t want her brother to give it to him. “When they look like sluts, I say they look for it-”

There was no stopping Mark after that.

Before she could even think about trying and stop him from jumping to the guy’s throat, Kyle scooped her away, trapping her in between his arms, and protecting her. This time, she hid in between his arms, closing her eyes. She didn’t want to see what she had caused.

The crowd shouted so loudly it made her head hurt.

The announcer, from the ring called for security that came through to break the fight and to kick out the people who disturbed the show.

“I’m sorry,” she shook her head, “I am sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

Kyle shook his head, kissing her forehead tenderly. “Don’t you dare to apologise,” he chanted to her ear, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Later on, that same evening the mood was off.

After the incident, going back to the regular flow of the show had been difficult. While Kyle and Mark were supposed the be heels and treated as such, the crowd started loving them after they displayed chivalry. Everyone kept asking her if she was ok from that point on. And she hated it. Erika just hid behind her camera the rest of the evening, pretending detached politeness, but didn’t ever move from ringside.

Now they were gathered for a drink and some late food at a local pub just around the corner from the venue where the show took place. Erika sat in her booth enjoying a plate of steaming hot chips as she watched Kyle play pool with two of the boys from the show.

When he smiled, she smiled too, wondering what had been said to make him laugh.

Mark heavily dropped himself next to her, placing his beer and a massive portion of nachos, blocking her view.

“Hey,” she welcomed him with a smile.

Mark was deadly serious. “I know something is happening between you and Kyle.”

“OK?” Erika frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t be vague with me, I’ve suspected it for a while. I see the way you two look at each other. And tonight, with the way he protected you-”

“Mark,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “You did the same thing.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me the way you two were hugging was nothing.”

She didn’t look at him. “It was just a hug.”

“I love you. I will always love you. You know that. And believe me, it hurts me to say this. I know I’m being an ass right now, but I want you to stay away from Kyle.”

Every word that came out of Mark’s mouth slashed through her like a knife. It was a painful reminder of everything she had been, everything she had done. Everything her brother had to fix for her. Not leaving any space for the person she was desperately trying to become.

“Why?” She challenged him, gulping down her pain, and looking straight into his eyes.

“You know why. I can’t stand the idea of watching you hurt him. Because you will. Maybe not willingly. But he doesn’t deserve it all the same.”

Erika's chest ached. She looked away, trying to hide away her pain. She wanted to shout and cry and kick, but couldn’t. Somehow, she trusted her brother more than how she trusted herself. It was easier to accept that he must have been right about her. It must be like he said. She wasn’t good for Kyle and would have never been good.

“I mean it, Erika. I’d break the world for you. But I’d do the same for Kyle.”

“You are breaking me right now,” she shook her head and then looked back at him, anger flooding through her gaze, lighting her up. “You think I haven’t tried to stay away? See? I knew you’d end up telling me this and I did. Stayed as far as I could. Pretty difficult to do when we live together, travel together and work together,” Erika shrugged. “But it is as you said. I obviously can’t offer anything better to someone than failure.”

“That’s not what I meant,”

“Don’t you dare try and justify your cruelty. You said it, loud and clear. I am not good enough for Kyle. Thank you, brother, for reminding me.”

She grabbed her stuff and got up, storming out.

Something stirred inside of her. It was an old, familiar feeling of how she was used to dealing with strong emotions from before. Part of her was trying so hard to be better. But she didn’t know how when even her brother, her only anchor in that world, didn’t believe in her.

Anger and pain were easy to suppress or ignore when she was self-destructing, taking everyone else down with her in the process.

#kyle fletcher #kyle fletcher smut #kyle fletcher x reader #kyle fletcher x ofc #aew fanfiction #kyle fletcher fanfic

18 notes · View notes