#y fin

[dksfml]

Love 119 [Part One]

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part 2]

pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: workplace tension, constant bickering, fluff (trust me) word count: 2.7k summary: jungwon and you made it a habit to constantly be at each other's throats, especially in the emergency room. while he barked orders, you fired back just as fiercely. but once the doors closed, the tension shifted into a warm intimacy that only you two knew. author's note: self-indulgent fic because i've seen no one writing this trope

The late afternoon sun was just beginning to dip behind the skyline when the call came in—an emergency at a construction site on the outskirts of the city.

Jungwon barely had time to glance at his watch before he was in motion, his team falling in line behind him as the sirens wailed and the ambulance tore through the city streets.

Arriving at the site, chaos greeted them. Workers were clustered around a man lying motionless on the ground, his hard hat cracked and discarded nearby, dust and debris littering the air. Jungwon’s jaw tightened, taking in the scene in a flash. This wasn’t good.

“Let’s move,” he barked, his tone sharp but calm, his team already spreading out as they grabbed the necessary equipment from the ambulance.

He strode forward with an authoritative air, his well-built frame and broad shoulders drawing more than a few eyes from the construction workers, some of whom were openly staring at him, their faces filled with a mix of concern and awe.

“Step back, please,” Jungwon said firmly but politely, the workers quickly making way as he knelt down beside the injured man.

His dark hair, just a bit tousled from the rush, caught the light, and the sharp angles of his jawline seemed even more pronounced against the backdrop of the gritty site. His team watched him with admiration; Jungwon always exuded this calm, confident charm that somehow made even the most panicked scenes feel manageable.

Jungwon quickly assessed the man’s condition. The patient was unconscious, his breathing shallow. One of his teammates handed over the stethoscope, and Jungwon listened intently to the faint sounds of the man’s breathing. His brow furrowed.

“Possible head trauma. We’ve got low oxygen saturation,” he muttered under his breath, signaling for the oxygen mask as his hands moved swiftly yet delicately over the man’s body, checking for fractures and injuries.

His every move was precise, commanding attention—not just because of his skill but the way he carried himself. Even in the face of an emergency, he looked collected, like he was born to handle the pressure.

"Jungwon," his teammate called from the side, holding the patient's chart. "No significant external bleeding. We’ve got a weak pulse though, around 130, BP's borderline. We need to get him out of here fast."

Jungwon’s eyes narrowed as he nodded, quickly making a decision. “Let’s secure his airway first and immobilize his spine. We can’t risk any movement.” He made the call as he smoothly slid the oxygen mask onto the patient’s face, adjusting it with a gentleness that contrasted the urgency of the situation. His fingers brushed over the man’s wrist, checking his pulse again. A slight frown creased his forehead.

With practiced ease, his team set up a backboard to stabilize the patient, while Jungwon prepared to radio the hospital. His deep voice echoed through the dust-laden air, crisp and calm. “We’re looking at a possible internal bleed or brain injury—trauma to the head, decreased GCS. Get Y/N on standby. She’ll want to know.”

He tapped his earpiece, dialing straight into the hospital, his tone switching effortlessly into that of a strict professional.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice filled with authority as he spoke into the receiver, “we’ve got a situation here. Male, late twenties, unconscious after a fall from height—GCS is 4. We’ve administered oxygen and immobilized his spine, but he’s unresponsive. Internal injuries are likely.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, before your voice came through, crisp and all business. “Vitals?”

Jungwon rattled off the numbers, his tone growing sharper as he outlined the gravity of the situation. “BP’s dropping fast, pulse is weak, pupils uneven—one’s blown. It’s not looking good.”

“Get him here as fast as you can,” you replied, your voice steady. “We’ll be ready when you arrive. I need him in trauma two for imaging, and you better give me a detailed report when you get here.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes subtly, though no one else could hear his exasperation. “Of course, Doctor. Just make sure the room’s prepped.” His sarcasm was impossible to miss, but before you could retort, he was already motioning for his team to get the stretcher ready.

“Let’s get moving,” he said, standing up in one fluid motion, his wide shoulders casting a shadow over the patient as he signaled for the transfer. His team lifted the man onto the gurney, Jungwon guiding them every step of the way. Despite the intensity of the moment, there was something about the way he commanded the situation—his deep voice, his piercing gaze, the way he moved like a force of nature—that made even a frantic scene seem a little calmer.

Jungwon was the kind of guy people listened to, the kind of guy people looked up to. Even with the weight of the situation hanging over him, he held his head high, taking charge like it was second nature. His team moved quickly, securing the patient in the ambulance as Jungwon gave one last glance to the scene before climbing in.

“Let’s go,” he said firmly, and with the wail of sirens, they sped off toward the hospital.

Jungwon stormed through the emergency room doors with a sense of purpose, his jaw clenched as he guided the gurney toward the trauma bay. “28-year-old male, head trauma, GCS of 4, possible internal bleeding. Move it!” His voice boomed with authority, eyes scanning the room as the ER team sprang into action.

The chaos of the emergency room was nothing new, but today it seemed more charged than usual. The tension was thick as the nurses hurried to get the trauma room prepped, doctors barking orders as they readied themselves. And at the center of it all was you—focused, sharp-eyed, already gloved up and waiting.

The moment Jungwon and his team wheeled the patient in, your eyes met his, a silent exchange of understanding mixed with the tension that always crackled between them in moments like this. Not that anyone would’ve noticed—your constant bickering was practically a feature of every shift.

You stepped forward, your voice cutting through the noise of the room. “Trauma two is open. Let’s get him in fast!”

The team followed your lead, transferring the patient from the gurney to the hospital bed with swift efficiency. Jungwon stayed close, hands still gripping the rails of the stretcher as if he was unwilling to relinquish control.

“You took too long with the vitals report,” you said, throwing him a sharp glance. “We could’ve been in there five minutes ago.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrowed. “We did take the vitals. Maybe if you paid attention, you’d know that.”

“Excuse me?” you shot back, your gaze never leaving the patient as you worked to stabilize him. “I don’t need a paramedic trying to tell me how to do my job. We had a plan, and your delay didn’t help.”

Jungwon glared, his voice low and clipped. “Maybe if your plan didn’t waste time on unnecessary scans, we wouldn’t have needed a second round of intubation last time.”

Your hands froze for a split second before you caught yourself. You threw him a withering look. “This again? You think you can waltz in here and play doctor, Jungwon?”

“I’m not playing doctor. I’m trying to make sure you don’t screw it up.” His tone was biting, but professional, and the tension in the room rose instantly.

One of the nurses stepped back, shaking her head. “Here they go again.”

You didn’t back down, leaning closer as you adjusted the IV line. “How about you leave the doctoring to me, and I’ll leave the paramedic work to you? We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Jungwon took a breath, his expression unreadable for a moment, his frustration barely contained. “Fine. Just don’t mess it up.”

“Same to you,” you retorted, not missing a beat.

Before Jungwon could respond, one of the nurses interrupted. “Dr. Y/N, patient’s BP is dropping.”

Instantly, you refocused, the banter dropped as quickly as it had escalated. “Let’s get the trauma panel done. We need to stabilize him before moving for imaging. Prep the fluids.”

Jungwon watched you work, his arms still crossed, but he didn’t say another word. Despite the constant arguing, there was no denying that you are incredible at your job. Even in the most high-pressure situations, you were in complete control.

You worked together in tense silence, the only sounds in the room now the soft beeps of the monitors and the quiet shuffling of the medical team around them. Jungwon’s team lingered just outside, waiting for their next call, though they couldn’t help but glance back inside the room occasionally, accustomed to the combative exchanges between Jungwon and you.

As the patient’s vitals finally stabilized, you took a step back, letting out a quiet breath. “We’re clear to take him to imaging now. Good work, everyone,” you called to the team, your voice steady once more.

Jungwon uncrossed his arms, walking past you toward the door. “You’re welcome,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You narrowed your eyes at his back but said nothing. You didn’t need to. Your argument had run its course for now.

Thirty minutes later, with the patient stable and prepped for surgery, you stepped out of the trauma room, pulling off your gloves. Jungwon was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, that same tight-lipped look on his face.

“Everything go okay, or did I miss something else?” he asked, his voice loaded with sarcasm.

You glared at him. “Yeah, we managed just fine without your commentary, thanks.”

“Good,” Jungwon muttered, pushing himself off the wall and adjusting his jacket. “Maybe next time you won’t waste so much time arguing.”

“Maybe next time you’ll do your job and get out of my way,” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You love being in control, don’t you?” Jungwon’s eyes glinted, his voice dropping low as he stepped closer. “Can’t handle someone else calling the shots, huh?”

You crossed your arms, your gaze unyielding. “I don’t need to handle anything, least of all you.”

“Trust me, I’m not asking for much,” he replied with a smirk, his voice oozing with challenge.

You scoffed, brushing past him. “Try asking for less.”

Jungwon shook his head with an exasperated sigh as he watched you walk away, but his lips twitched ever so slightly. The others on their teams didn’t even blink. This was just how the both of you were. They were used to it by now—the biting remarks, the challenges, the constant back-and-forth. Every time Jungwon’s ambulance showed up, it was only a matter of time before you and him were at each other’s throats again.

Hours later, the hospital had quieted down. The rush of the afternoon was over, and most of the staff had gone home. You and Jungwon had managed to avoid each other for the rest of your shifts, though your earlier argument still hung in the air like static.

You finally peeled off your gloves after your last appointment and scrubbed your hands clean, your mind replaying the events of the day. You were tired, drained even, but there was something about that last spat with Jungwon that wouldn’t stop gnawing at you. Maybe it was the way he always had a smug retort ready or how he never backed down from your challenges.

Shaking your head, you let out a sigh. “Annoying paramedic,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing your coat and heading out of the ER.

Your apartment wasn’t far from the hospital, a quiet space tucked away from the noise of the city. By the time you have arrived, your exhaustion had fully settled in, your body craving rest.

You pushed open the door and was greeted by the sound of faint rustling from the kitchen.

“Rough day?” a familiar voice asked, soft and warm.

You smiled, the tension from earlier melting away. There, standing in the kitchen in the same paramedic uniform that had driven you crazy just hours ago, was Jungwon. His hair was a little disheveled now, his expression soft and boyish, the strict leader of the paramedic team completely gone.

“You have no idea,” you murmured, walking over to him, your eyes catching on his broad shoulders, still defined under the crisp lines of his uniform. Jungwon turned around, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when you see his easy smile, so different from the sharp tone he used at work.

Without another word, Jungwon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. The scent of antiseptic still clung to his uniform, mixed with the faintest hint of his cologne. You closed your eyes and let yourself melt against him, the weight of the day slipping away. You buried your face into his shoulder, feeling the strong muscles beneath the fabric, and sighed softly.

“You’re lucky I put up with you,” he teased, reaching for your hand and pulling your close. “Even after you yelled at me for no reason.”

“I didn’t yell for no reason,” you protested, but your voice had lost all its sharpness, softened by the warmth of being home. You leaned against his chest, letting out a deep breath. “Okay, maybe I did. But only because you deserved it.”

Jungwon chuckled, his arms wrapping around you more tightly. “Sure, I deserved it. You really hate me that much, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no heat behind it as you melted into his embrace. “The worst,” you muttered, though your fingers played with the collar of his uniform.

Jungwon smirked, resting his chin on top of your head. “Good thing we’ve got the whole night to make up for it, then.”

“You’re still in your uniform,” you mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But inside, your mind was in chaos. His broad shoulders. The way he held you. The authority he exuded at work seemed to linger here, too, but only just enough to make your heart race.

Jungwon chuckled, his hand moving up to cup the back of your head. “I thought you liked me in uniform.”

You groaned, your cheeks flushing. “Stop it. I’m tired.”

“Liar,” he teased, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His own softened as he took in your face, the familiar tenderness filling his gaze. “You love it.”

And he wasn’t wrong. As strict and commanding as you could be at work, here with him, you couldn’t help but feel weak in his arms. You were whipped for him in every sense of the word, even if you would never admit it out loud.

Jungwon kissed the top of your head, his earlier bravado fading into a gentle affection. “Come on. Let’s get you out of these scrubs and cuddle.”

You let out a soft laugh, the kind that only he ever got to hear. “You’re the one who’s going to change first. That uniform’s distracting.”

“I knew it,” he grinned, but without missing a beat, he started peeling off his jacket, revealing the tight black undershirt beneath that highlighted his lean muscles. You had to look away before you lost yourself completely.

As you settled onto the couch, your limbs tangled together in the quiet of their apartment, the world outside felt a million miles away. In here, there were no patients to save, no colleagues to impress, no reputations to uphold. It was just the both of you.

Jungwon nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his earlier strictness replaced by a cuteness that only you got to see. “You’re such a pain at work, you know that?”

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re not so easy yourself.”

And just like that, the bickering, the tension, all of it faded away. Because here, in your shared apartment, away from the chaos of the ER and the expectations of their coworkers, you were just you and Jungwon—no titles, no arguments. Just two people who loved each other, even if you never let anyone else know.

[atavlia]

14. "yo creo que esa presentación no estuvo mal."

"déjame decirte que tienes pésimo gusto" responde al instante, no porque así lo crea ni tampoco porque presentación le haya disgustado, sino mera y exclusivamente por llevarle la contra a su amiga. ( @vvngeliic. )

[ya-no-la-quiero]

Anónimo

[waverlyyhaught]

Favorite Marta and Fina Moments - Part 77 Sueños de Libertad

[j3nnix]

gracias @michellemouse por tirar la idea de miguel en el carrefour😼

[andysgallerys]

FOREVER BE LIKE:

[naffeclipse]

I've been writing Harpy!Y/N with the siren babies and I can't stop thinking about the twins grown up but still young, paired with the fact that their one parent is a harpy, and that one scene from Tarzan keeps replaying over and over in my head of grown-up scary siren Moon creeping along the surface to the edge of icy land, about to scare his small harpy parent but—

Harpy!Y/N: *preening their feathers and doesn't look up* Don't even think about it.

Orca!Moon: *pouts and half-flops on the ice beside Harpy!Y/N* How'd you know it was me?

Harpy!Y/N: I'm your parent, chick, I know everything. Now where is your brother?

Orca!Moon: *grinning like Eclipse* I thought you knew everything—OUGH *pulled into the water by Orca!Sun as they begin roughhousing and splashing water onto the ice*

Orca!Sun: *popping his head out of the water while shoving Orca!Moon under* Good morning! You're looking remarkedly preened today.

Harpy!Y/N: *softly, amused* Hello, chick.

[zenlesszonezero]

Join Zenless Zone Zero with Tsukishiro Yanagi, the deputy leader of Hollow Special Operations Section 6! Beneath her ordinary office lady exterior lies a meticulous, emotionally intelligent big sister to the team.

[astrolavas]

so in your mermaid au what is belos? is he also a merman

he wears this

[depoesiaypoetas]

Si tan sólo en un minuto apreciaras lo que digo, sabrías por qué prefiero las plantas a los ramos de flores. Que soy fan de las caricaturas y los colores aún a los 30 años, y no tiene nada de malo. Que no me gusta hablar del trabajo cuando no estoy ahí. Que ya fui a esa ciudad y lo que tú dices está sobrevalorado. Que no quiero peluches, ni regalos, ni restaurantes caros. Que abrazo mucho las pequeñas cosas y mi definición de placeres sencilos es justo eso, placeres sencillos. Que no acumulo nada y si pudiera, sería yo y una maleta para siempre, en todos lados. Sabrías al menos mi color favorito. Que en un mundo material, me gusta ser aire. Que tú y yo no somos nada compatibles. Si escucharas tan sólo un poco sabrías que con el silencio también estoy diciendo algo.

Clara Ajc

[arafilez]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ▰ ▰ ✶ WØRLD EPISØDE FIN: WILL ⪨

ㅤㅤ➛ ㅤviii.ㅤ EVERYTHING 𒉽 choi jongho❛ 𓇿

🥂̸̤ㅤㅤfluff forced proximity pg13ㅤ ✸ㅤthe last person you wanted to complete the mission with is jongho, well too bad he is the only optionㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ w: fighting . one-bed trope ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ wc: 3kㅤㅤ𠈔ㅤㅤ moodboard

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❛ you're an asshole but i love you ❜

“Everything that comes out of your mouth is stupid.”

“Choi Jongho”

“Shut up.”

You both stop abruptly at the third voice and turn towards the captain but not without giving each other one last glare. Hongjoong takes a deep breath and looks at you two shaking his head wondering what he had ever done in his past life to get such a chaotic group of spies. Because they surely can’t act like one.

“Okay now that I have your attention span of five seconds, you two are doing this mission together,” Hongjoong speaks and doesn’t bother to look up already knowing what is coming.

“I am not going with him.”

“Again?”

You both shout at the same time earning an eye-roll from Hongjoong who merely states, “Yes, and you don’t get a choice.” Your mouth hangs open at his words and you try to protest only for Hongjoong to silence you and say, “Because you two are our best undercovers.”

“Well, I am, of course, but her?” Jongho asks, mocking evident in his voice and you snicker at the immature man beside you. Being the two youngest in the team you two didn’t leave one day where you wouldn’t bite each other’s head off.

“Of course, because you are the one who brought home the information in our last mission,” you say, plastering a sickly sweet smile on your face.

“Talk with respect, I was born first,” he bites back and you roll your eyes at the lame comeback before saying, “Don’t you mean hatched?”

“Dismissed,” Hongjoong says interrupting you two and giving a stern look that makes both of you shut up and accept it and leave. Walking outside you close Hongjoong’s door behind you and feel Jongho tapping your shoulder.

“What?” you give him a look which quickly turns into confusion as you see him shushing you and pointing towards the lab door where you see Wooyoung’s sister clinging onto Yunho.

You shrug lightly whispering, “Well Wooyoung oppa is going to be fucking over the moon,” and Jongho giggles at your response knowing his hyung in fact will be.

You look towards Jongho who has a gummy smile etched on his face and for a moment you let your mind tell you he looks cute in that smile with his crinkled eyes that look like a crescent moon.

“Too bad you don’t have a brother, let alone his best friend,” Jongho remarks and the record screeches and comes to a halt. You smile at him before showing your middle finger to his face and he sticks out his tongue making you scoff.

“It’s almost two, do you want to plan tomorrow or now?” Jongho asks suddenly and you contemplate a bit balancing out your odds and he takes the cue to continue, “What are you thinking so much, you don’t have anyone to go back to your room, unlike San hyung.”

You attempt to kick him, swinging your leg in the hair and he giggles running towards his room and you follow muttering curses under your breath at the little spawn of the devil.

The relationship you and Jongho had was interesting. You two were the undercovers of Ateez and being a team you two complement each other well, bringing information as well as eliminating bodies left and right.

But, there’s always a but, you two couldn’t stand each other. You found him obnoxious and annoying and he found you too hasty. At least that was the basic reason. There were a thousand other reasons which justify why you would kill him on a good day. One of them, was his big mouth that was never shut, annoying you whenever he could.

“What is your plan? Where do we start?” your thoughts come to a halt as Jongho’s voice infiltrates your ear and you look at him in the eyes that hold a boring expression.

You shake your head lightly and sit down on his bed, which you will never admit is very comfortable, and say, “We can just simply keep a watch on them and act accordingly.”

“We will not be in any disguise genius, what if we get caught?” he throws his shoes off his legs to the corner of the room and sits down beside you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“We will improvise like we have always done till now,” you shrug lightly. Honestly, this mission wasn’t a lot. Even though it has crucial information standing on the line you and Jongho have been on much harder missions and have been alive.

Even though you might have tried to kill each other while at it.

“Fine just don’t do stupid shit when we almost get caught, like that time you suggested beer pong,” Jongho grits out, eyes flaming with anger as he remembers how you had almost slept with an official if he hadn’t saved you.

“That was all part of the plan,” you dismiss him airily and he rolls his eyes muttering “Sure” which made you feel embarrassed as hell because it sure wasn’t part of any plan. Heck, you already have two people in your team for that job.

He yawns stretching out his limbs and you look at him and watch his muscles flex under the t-shirt he is wearing accentuating his arm muscles and you watch him intently.

“Good muscles, no?” Jongho smirks looking at you ogling and your eyes widen at getting caught and you cough looking away and say, “Yeah whatever, those are just for show.”

You even fake a scoff to hide the warmth radiating from your cheeks and he raises an eyebrow.

“They can show you a lot of things baby,” he purrs, his body slightly leaning towards you and you stare back at his eyes with equal intensity. You are pretty sure your cheeks are red by now, and you can feel his breath too close to you, and you might be hallucinating but you see his eyes travel to your lips for a split second.

Coughing lightly, you abruptly get up before you do something you regret and walk towards the door. Jongho also sits up looking away and you say a small “See you tomorrow,” and leave.

“You have got to be fucking with me!” you exclaim, a frustrated groan leaving with me as you eye the room you are to stay for the night. It is definitely a sorry excuse for a homestay, heck you have stayed in worse places but that isn’t the problem.

The problem is sharing the room with Jongho.

A room which has one bed.

No couch.

No mattress.

Not even two blankets in what they are calling a “double bed.” Double? It is more like a single and a half. Not even half, quarter.

“No thanks, I have better things to do,” Jongho’s monotonous reply brings you out of your trance and you glare at him throwing your backpack on the small table at the side.

The table creaks making you cringe and you slowly pick up your bag and keep it beside the leg of the bed. You are not paying for a broken table. They cannot even make more rooms, of course, they can’t afford a decent table.

“You’re sleeping on the floor,” you deadpan and Jongho laughs sarcastically saying, “How about you say that to your phone’s selfie camera?”

“Selfie camera? Really?” you fold your arms cocking your eyebrow at him and he rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah well there’s no mirror.” You scoff at his attitude and continue, “You cannot make a lady sleep on the floor.”

“Where’s the lady? I can’t see her,” he retaliates with a smirk adorning his face. You take in a deep break and shooting him a quick glare you plop down on the bed.

Jongho puts his bag down beside yours and glances around. His heart panics a little at the single bed but he quickly looks away. It is three days, he can do this.

You think it is for three days, you can go without killing each other, maintain a safe distance, and return safely to the base. You can do this.

You absolutely cannot do this.

Jongho has been shuffling for the last fifteen minutes and he doesn’t stop. His tossing and turning make you annoyed and you hiss in anger and turn towards him and yell, “Jongho just sleep for fuck’s sake.”

He turns towards you and whispers, “I am trying.”

“Well, try harder, and stop moving,” you finally shoot your eyes open and look at him. The proximity makes you falter quickly and you can see your noses almost touching, his eyes scanning your whole face.

Your eyes rake his face, over every mole, cute lump and his nose-bridge and then fall to his lips. You quickly look up at him and he opens his mouth and you brace yourself for the worst teasing of your life.

“You have really nice eyes,” your eyes widen in shock and your lips part but no words come out as you continue to stare into his soft, brown eyes. After a moment you collect yourself barely and say, “Go to sleep Choi.”

Why is this hotel room so goddamn cold?

“Okay,” he whispers back, his breath fanning your face your mouth a ‘good’ because you didn’t trust your voice and turn your back to him, trying to calm your heart.

Jongho eyes rest on your back trying to even his breath until his eyes close.

You wake up in the middle of the night, or rather your bladder urges you to try to move. Except you can’t when you see Jongho’s hand draped over your waist, holding you close. His soft breath dances on your neck and you stay awake for some time enjoying the warmth of his body that feels so strangely comfortable and you hate to admit it.

Okay no you really need to pee.

You wiggle out of his arms slowly, not intending to wake him up and he groans making you go still. “Why do I care?” you think to yourself but put extra care into placing his arms down and getting up.

Coming back you jump lightly as Jongho’s annoyed eyes match yours and he says, “Come back here.”

“Why?” your cheeks tinge a shade of red and you are glad the room is dark or else you would have never lived it down. You take a sip of water from the bottle, trying to shove the feeling down your burning throat but you can’t.

Jongho keeps watching your ministrations, getting impatient with each passing second. Why can’t you just come back goddammit? He speaks up before he can stop himself and says, “You are the only source of warmth in this stupid hotel, so come back before I get hypothermia.”

You smirk lightly at his bear-like features getting all riled up and shrug your shoulders nonchalantly making him huff and turn sideways away from you. You cannot believe Jongho being this needy.

Jongho never loses his composure. Except when he is with you, you make him do crazy things.

You giggle lightly at the pouting baby bear before you walk towards him and get inside the duvet and his eye shots up as you lie down. He instantly wraps his arm around you and you murmur to him, “I am only doing this because you are cold and you will get hypothermia or whatever, don’t take it otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” his sleepy voice reverberates in the room as he holds you tightly making your insides warm up. He is just cold, don’t overthink, you scold your mind before lulling back to sleep.

The next morning becomes unusually quiet, unlike your usual bickering. Both of you check your logs sent by Yunho and work on your tactical gears and weapons. Neither of you brings up last night’s incident, an unspoken agreement forming.

At the said time, you both leave the motel and arrive at the back door of the pub. You say the code and they let you two in and you search for your perp.

“There she is,” Jongho whispers and you quickly look over to his direction and spot her immediately. “You talk with officials, I will go talk with her,” you say and he nods before you part ways. You strut your way towards her and sit beside her at the bar, passing her a glance.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you look at Jongho who has a resolute look on his face as he sits down to play poker with the officials. You smile lightly at his undercover suit that makes him look like a businessman.

Jongho knows the official has a gun ready below the table and he sends a signal to Mingi who gets ready in his position at the back. Jongho smiles lightly and continues the game like nothing happened until he is on the last card and pulls out an Ateez card from his pocket turning it swiftly to the officers.

You knock over your drink on purpose, and Mingi walks towards Jongho. “You’re dead, darling,” you whisper as soon as you see Jongho firing the bullets and you smirk lightly holding her down and she fights back. “Oh shit,” you whisper when she jabs you on your forehead before you hold her down in a choking position.

With her free hand, she punches you on the lips and you feel offended. She did not just ruin your pretty lips, and you scoffed in annoyance before grabbing the spray from your waist and using it on her.

“Bitch, you could have hit any other place but these pretty lips?” you say before throwing her figure down for an amused Mingi to watch you.

The perp falls limp on the ground and you gesture at Mingi who gladly takes her back to the headquarters. You look around in confusion and Mingi shrugs as you see Jongho still shooting. You roll your eyes pulling him by the elbow and whisper, “Tell me you got the papers.”

“Let’s make a grand exit,” he grins cheekily and you look at him quizzically and pull him by the arm saying, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

He gives you a deaf ear shooting the fire extinguishing sprinklers as the water starts pouring. “What the actual-“ You don’t finish your sentence running out and looking at him in disbelief as he walks through the water like it is some sort of runway.

When he finally comes out after his “dramatic exit” you say, “I will be handling your CV to modelling agencies when we get back, just wait and see.”

He laughs and you scoff and stomp away as he follows you, the papers safely with Mingi sent back.

Back at the motel, he forcefully makes you sit down on the bed as he brings the first-aid kit out. You eye his ministrations and snicker when he accidentally pours some antiseptic on his fingers instead of the cotton.

“You should have told me you are hurt,” he says, lightly dabbing at the wound on your forehead first.

“Oh and stop your modelling, how on earth can I do that?” you fake a gasp and Jongho forcefully jabs your forehead and you slap his hand.

Jongho lightly flicks your forehead, his gummy smile etching his lips as he steps closer. He holds your jaw softly, turning your head up and your eyes follow his hands that busied themselves on cleaning the cut.

“Geez I am fine you big baby, I have got way bigger cuts than one on a forehead and a split lip,” you complain while Jongho carefully presses a piece of cotton between your lips. Your words get muffled and he smiles in a sinister way and says, “You are so much better when you don’t talk.”

You stick your middle finger at his face and he edges closer to you, looking down at you raises your eyebrows as you gaze back. “There are a lot more ways where I can make you quiet,” he smirks and continues, “Or make you scream louder.”

Your face flushes with warmth and reaches the tip of your ears at his words and your eyes widen. You look at your sides and see Jongho’s arms flexing as he holds the bed headboard. Fuck him and his apple-breaking arms, you think.

Fuck everything.

“Yeah?” you ask softly taking out the cotton from your lips and continuing, “Why don’t you show me the ways?”

Jongho raises his eyebrow dipping his head more and the closeness almost makes your noses touch and he asks, “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe I will,” you speak, a mischievous smile tugging on your lips and before can count to another second Jongho’s lips press to yours in a desperate kiss. You stumble lightly from the pressure and hold his shoulders tilting your head. Your lips move in perfect sync and the kiss turns from rough and desperate to soft and sensual in seconds. His grip softens and he holds your hands while you caress his hair lightly. You feel him smile in the kiss and return it as you two part.

You love this about Jongho so much.

He smiles and you bite your lips feeling shy as he pecks your lips saying, “You were right, I am stupid.” You groan at him shaking your head and trying to cover his mouth but he continues, “Stupidly in love with you.”

“Oh my god, that is so cheesy,” you groan at him and he laughs before tackling you to the bed and kissing you all over the face while you giggle.

✸ㅤ ara's notesㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ that is it, the end of my series, tbf i had fun writing this one a lot ㅤㅤ»ㅤ series mlistㅤ ateez mlist ㅤ main mlist ㅤ naviㅤㅤ𠈔

✸ㅤ taglistㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ @haneagerr @tunaasan @evidive @huachengsbestie01 @philijack @atiny-lizbeth @chxnnii @nakiiko @therealcuppicake @weird-bookworm ���ㅤ»ㅤㅤ if you liked the series you can join my taglistㅤㅤ𠈔

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[quemirabobo]

Cuando arrancamos la marcha desde la facu fue hermoso, habían nenes en la vereda levantando sus libros sonriendo, gente mayor aplaudiendo en los balcones, los autos tocando bocina (en apoyo, no para putearnos). Fuimos en subte y los empleados nos abrieron la puerta para que pudiéramos pasar y ayudaron a organizar la marea de gente que éramos, dsps íbamos todos cantando y la gente que estaba en el vagón se sumaba, un señor me dió ternura porque mientras cantabamos "la uba no se vende" dijo bajito "ni la utn"🫶 El chofer? maquinista? Prendió el altavoz y empezó a cantar "universidad, de los trabajadores, el que no le gusta, se jode, se jode" y cuando estábamos llegando a nuestra estación dijo "en la próxima se baja filo, suerte!" Es hermoso ver como el pueblo se une para defender uno de los derechos más antiguos e importantes de la nación, educación pública, gratuita y de calidad hoy y siempre en la Argentina 🩵🤍🩵

[running-with-kn1ves]

PUNISHMENT: A Reward

A/N: Decided to name our ‘PUNISHMENT’ fic boy Malachi, lemme know if this is a win or a fat L my scrumptious pogchamps. ALSO happy valentines day! (Posting this early let me be)

CW: Toxic relationship, possessive/obsessive behavior, suggestive themes, mentioning future seggsual acts/fantasies

Synopsis: Out on a group date for Valentine's Day with your possessive, jealousy-ridden boyfriend is never a good idea, especially when he finds the special surprise you’re wearing for him.

“Hrmm… seems like they have a lot of Valentine's themed stuff on the menu.” 

“Well it IS the season! No other reason for it being so packed in here...” One of your friends across the table perked up, slightly annoyed at the stuffy atmosphere.

She was right, every table was filled, every booth full of chattering couples or first blind dates, even double or thruple dates just like the one you were on. 

You were lucky your friend's boyfriend had managed to snag this place a week in advance, else you might be thigh to thigh with everyone else in a tinier booth. Ha, as if YOUR boyfriend would allow that; you'd probably be on the edge of the shared booth seat, nearly falling off just to save you from being ‘too close’ to anyone else, even your own friends. 

“Annoying… I don't get why going out on Valentine's Day is so important, what happened to dates in the privacy of your own home.” Said the devil you were thinking of, that comment nudging to how he was far more in favor of spending a “romantic” evening home alone with you instead of being here with your two friends and their spouses. 

“Awe, is puppy dog Malachi upset he has to share? We planned this weeks in advance, so suck it up, we have a right to see OUR friend tonight.” That same friend hissed. 

Your other friend nodded. He would’ve added on, if it weren’t for the death stare your boyfriend was currently drilling into everyone else across the table. You hadn’t been out in a group setting like this in… who knows how long.

“Oh, really? Don’t fucking--”

“C’mon you guys,” You grabbed onto Malachi’s thigh, a tight squeeze making him stop in his angry tracks to look down.”I’m here right now, shouldn’t we be catching up, not fighting? I missed you, missed this.” 

Your sincerity seemed to ease them up, a flash of contrition on your female friend’s face. She hated your boyfriend, clearly, wearing a scowl when she turned back to Mr. moody himself. He rested his face on his palm, looking at the other couples every now and again, always keeping a short glance at you out of the corner of his eye to make sure you weren’t having too much fun. 

One of the spouses --you had forgotten the name of by now after the evening’s short introductions-- had begun talking, complaining about coworkers or customers, one or the other. 

Wow, has it been so long that your friends have completely different lives now, new people that they spend their time with that you weren’t even told about? Well, its not like you’ve exactly been open to receiving that kind of news, or able to be, with so little time to make phonecalls lately, your phone always seeming to disappear, phone numbers no longer existing in your contacts… it was truly a miracle you managed to have this outing, and Malachi thought so too. 

“I swear if she prods at me again,” Your jealous guard dog of a boyfriend started, hand clenching the red, heart-embroidered table cloth.

“Take it easy, okay? I know you don’t want to be here but-- just do it a little longer, for me. Thats what we agreed, right?”

You took his hand in yours, bringing up his clenched fist to your lips. You thanked the skies that physical affection always seemed to drown out his fiery temper. You wondered how much longer that’d last. 

“Fine. But I can’t stand looking at them anymore, come ‘ere.” Malachi patted his thigh, hands moving to your hips to help bring you to your new seat. 

“Seriously? We’re in a.. A nice restaurant, with my friends--”

He gave you a knowing look, one that said ‘if you don’t listen, i’ll drag your ass back to the car without the pleasure of friendly goodbyes.’ 

You didn’t know if you could handle the embarrassing shit he put you through anymore. It tested the strength of your will and the integrity of your soul at this point. 

You did as he demanded, slowly making your way to sit on the edge of his lap. Most of those around you didn’t seem to notice, an occasional glance looking to see what you were doing, but ultimately going back to the lively story of one of the nameless significant others. You tried to hover above him, afraid to fully commit to sitting down on top of him, but a small ‘what are you doing’ and forced downward push of your hips made your butt make soft contact with his lap. 

“That’s right… that’s better.” He cleared his throat, putting one arm around your waist and the other on your knee. You directly blocked his view, your boyfriend not moving to see the rest of the group, instead leaning against you like a perfectly shaped body pillow. 

“Can’t you atleast act normal? Don’t you have any shame around other people,” You whispered, knowing that one of your friends was reading the uncomfortable expression on your face and was in turn, giving a similar expression of discomfort. 

“Hey, you know how bad I can be, this isn’t even the worst of it. You want me to really embarrass you?” 

A waiter  broke the quiet spat you were having with him, asking if you’d like another drink. He didn’t acknowledge the man behind you, either out of not seeing him or to purposefully avoid the dark eyes digging into his soul behind your shoulder. 

You croaked out a polite “yes please,” looking for your friend’s fellow responses. They all answered in kind, the waiter scurrying away to another busy set of tables. 

Malachi scoffed, coiling around you tighter. 

“D’you see that? I knew we shouldn’t have come out here, in front of prying eyes… bet he’s hit on every other pretty thing he’s seen walk in here, so don’t get any ideas.” 

 You almost turned around to gawk at your boyfriend, such an insensitive and insecure string of words wounding you. 

“I would never..” 

You almost let him ruin the rest of your evening, the dreadful pit of wanting to go home entering your tired mind. But you promised yourself you’d try to make an effort in repairing your friendships, attempting to memorialize your friend’s smiles and laughs, trying to come up with the names of their spouses you had just heard a half hour ago. If you wouldn’t see them again for a while, atleast you could have this. 

And with the two-second memory your boyfriend often displayed,(except for when it came to your “betrayals”) he was enamored with something new. 

“Oh, what do we have here…” Malachi tip-toed down the elastic waistband of your pants, looking at the lacey red lingerie underneath. It wasn’t hard to spot, not when it was a drastic change from your usual tame undergarments. Well, tame for him, he had seen them all at this point. 

You wouldn’t have noticed his prodding peculiarity if it weren’t for that worrying heightened pitch in his voice, one that always started trouble. Fingers nipping your tummy and around your wrist weren’t unusual, you had become accustomed to it from how he pawed at you at home, never seeming satisfied, but this, wasn’t the usual lack of personal space.

“Hey! You weren’t supposed to see that.” You slapped his hand away, having which already gotten a full touch of the goods you were hiding. 

“What is that supposed to mean--” Malachi started, and you knew he was about to expect the worst. You shut him up as fast as you could. 

“It’s supposed to be for tonight, idiot!” You whispered with a harsh tone, starting to get fed up with his childish reactions, which always seemed to jump to conclusions. “...Did you forget that it’s Valentine’s day or what?”

You barely let the words escape from between your teeth, not wanting to admit the silent internet escapade you went on to find something that wouldn’t tear your ass in half or be so tight you’d be left with more marks from it than him. But even so, after the sneaking around in trying to catch the package before he could and clearing out your emails as soon as possible, he still managed to see it before you had planned. 

Now, you wondered if it was worth it, with the lace itching your chest and the other giving you a wedgie. 

“awe.. no way, for me? All for me?” Malachi was promptly sweet on you, much different than the heel-biting mood he was in a short few minutes ago. 

You leaned back to get close to his ear, shifting your eyes anxiously. You really didn’t want your friends to know about the violently ravenous side of your boyfriend that wouldn’t stop him from making a scene about it here and now, which you anxiously tried to prepare for in case of the worst. “It’s for when we get back home…so lets just enjoy our time here, just sit still with me for a little longer.” You tried your usual ‘gentle parenting’ method, holding the heavy knuckles around your waist, to soothe him into letting you spend just a little bit longer with your friends.

Malachi kicked his feet, exasperating at this newfound interest and the ways he could torture you with it, could make you beg him for its secrecy. Oh how he could envision having you at his mercy, so cute and sexy but ultimately deserving punishment for going behind his back about something so temptatious, something another man could see and take if he weren’t there.  

“But now, baby I don’t know if I can wait.” He grinned, raking his teeth over his bottom lip so much it looked like it hurt. You felt him shift underneath you, leaning up to grind against your backside. “Man, you really should’ve hid it better, ‘cause now its all I can think about..”

You rolled your eyes, feeling his heavy exhale against your cheek. Your friends were too immersed in their own conversations with their loved ones to notice anything else, legs strewn over one another and fingers interlocked as they felt the cheap haze of their Sweetheart Cocktail’s and Rosé’s of Love. You would’ve much preferred to be tipsy along with them by now, but the truth is you were too nervous with the possessive man beside you to truly let loose anywhere other than alone. On top of that, the scolding you’d get from him for being so relaxed was not worth the extra headache. 

And yet, the wanton expression he held for you, the hands that fiddled to get deep and play with his surprise, made you feel so wanted. More wanted than your friends had  made you feel this evening. They just looked at you with concerned frowns and confused cocks of their heads as they questioned to why you were still with this crazed maniac. 

“What I would do to bend you over in front of these idiots, make you do more than say my name while wearing these adorable lacey little--” 

“Don’t tell me you’re already thinking of heading out.” Your female friend piped up, looking at the credit card Malachi put on top of the split receipt that has been sitting lonesome for a good while. 

He almost broke, annoyed at the sudden interruption. 

“Afraid so,” Your anticipating boyfriend gleamed, not even her sour attitude dampening the rising excitement in his perverted mind and tightening pants. “We have some other plans to attend to.”

“What could be more important than friends?” She asked, looking at you to advocate against your controlling spouse. 

You felt a greedy palm reach up your shirt, falling back down to paw for the thin garment below your waistline. 

“If we don’t go now.. I don’t know how much longer I can wait. Can’t promise that I won’t  rip these fucking shorts off you here to see what all is underneath.” He whispered against you through gritted teeth, barely able to stop from kissing you raw. 

“We’ll stay… just until the waiter comes back for his tip.” You choked out, not letting on about the roll of Malachi’s hips that pressed you up against the table. 

[i-heartmiguelmora]

☆𝘋𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘏𝘊𝘚☆

loves to share all his space knowledge with you!!

ur the star of his life {space uh thingy ig..}

he got you guys matching bracelets 4 ur birthday {ofc they said stargirl and starboy.. they also glow in the dark}

gives you nicknames not pet names!! {he'd be to akward with pet names}

was reeeaally shy around you {he still is.. but not as much ig}

literally so shocked on how he pulled you or... who you pulled him?

really insecure abt himself he feels like he's not good enough 4 he bc ur likee waaaayyy more popular then him and way more known yk?

anyway he's such a baddie {nvm}

like robin you have to clean him up after he gets jumped or bullied..

was quiet but once you guys dated for awhile he warmed up then started talking more

he loves hanging out at your house {ifyky his dad..}

one time he let you do his makeup and lets just say.. uhh.. your never doing it again..

you draw stars over his scars <3 {not sh scars, scars left from being bullied..}

he's literally so adroable!!

he literally has insomnia..

literally always has eyebags..

After star Wars came out (1977) he was literally so obsessed it was all he could talk about..

he also stutters.. alot.

As soon as you introduced urself in science (bc y'all both have the same science class and were partners for a project) he was immediately like "c-call me finn.! "

clueless as shit.

since he's good at math ig..? he helps you with ur homework {if you arent *great* at math}

he likes candles..

his favorite candle scent his probably pumpkin spice bc of the fall kind of vibe yk?

one of his "rockets" failed and smacked you in the head one time he always tells you to back up like baacckk.. up

for some of your dates instead of like going to the movies you go star gazing and he tells you about all the constellations

anyway thats it he's just there yk?

[ya-no-la-quiero]

Orgullo y prejuicio / Jane Austen

[frociaggina97]

te quiero dillom

[softtdaisy]

🌲 save us for later l pierre gasly

summary. Christmas could have been great. if pierre didn't forget to tell his parents you broke. and you didn't have to pretend you were still together.

words count. 2,434

a/n. ok I'm totally obsessed with this one and I really hope you will love it as much as I do🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

“I can’t believe you did that.” 

You heard Pierre sigh by your side, like he was already tired of this situation.

Like it wasn’t his fault if you were there today. What a joke.

“You don’t even try to understand.” he added, still focused on the road to not look at you. You noticed he was gripping the wheel so hard his joints were white. Or how he was biting his lips so badly, a habit you helped him to cease doing but apparently he didn’t stop, it was almost bleeding. 

But you couldn’t care less. Because this was so typical of Pierre: putting the blame on you by saying you didn’t want to hear his explanation.

“Oh.” you laughed nervously, turning to look at him. “Maybe you’re right.” you took a break long enough for him to frown, wondering if you really agreed with him. He knew for sure that during your past arguments, none of you would flinch this easily. 

“I really can’t fucking understand how you could lie to your parents and pretend we are still together, Pierre.” 

“What was I supposed to do?

“Tell the fucking truth.” you replied, slamming your hand on the dashboard. 

This was absolutely not how you planned your Christmas’ eve. 

Well, to be honest, you didn’t plan much. Your parents were away for the holiday and you were just going to eat some homemade food in front of a christmas movie. Nothing much but a well appreciated evening.

For sure, you didn’t plan on spending it with your ex-boyfriend and his family.

Pierre suddenly drove on the sideway and stopped there, getting some horns from annoyed drivers. You looked at him with confusion, he wasn’t the reckless driver type. Obviously. It was his habit to scare you when you shared the car.

He stopped the car and turned to you. “I fucked up, ok? I know that. On so many levels.” you rolled your eyes at this and held back any bad comments. “But everything went fast after our breakup. I haven't seen them since this summer and I couldn’t announce that we broke off our engagement through the phone. When my mom said they were waiting for us tonight, I didn’t have the heart to ruin their christmas. You can blame me for lying. But don’t fucking blame me for protecting my parents for god sake!”

Pierre was right. You knew it. 

It was something you’ve always kinda admired about him: how his family would always go first. You couldn’t count the number of hours you waited for him in the hotel room, ready to go out and celebrate, while he was on the phone with his parents or his brothers. For sure, you would be a liar to blame him for something you’ve always encouraged him to do.

Especially considering that you accepted to play pretend tonight for the sake of protecting them, too. 

When Pierre called you tonight, you didn’t answer. When he texted you, you barely read the message.

When he knocked on your door, you didn’t have any other choice than to open.

And when he told you, you needed to come with him at his parents’ place to act like a couple even though you’ve been apart for three months now because he still hasn't told them about you…well you laughed. Nervously. And argued a lot.

Then you realised you didn’t want to be the bad person in this narrative. What was one night in a whole life?

You sighed, still looking at Pierre. He still hasn’t moved, waiting for an answer from you. You got lost in each other’s eyes.

And that was the thing that convinced you to come. The fact that he was ready to bring you back home if you really didn’t want to accompany him.

“Fine.” you sat back normally. “You could have told them I wasn’t available.” 

You heard Pierre laugh softly. “You still want to have the last word I see.”

Most of the ride went quietly after that. Pierre put on some music and you answered most of your texts. You only started to talk again ten minutes before you arrived to make sure you had the same ideas in mind. No break up, you were still planning your wedding and happy as before. And the reason you didn’t see his family in so long was simply a lack of time from both of you. 

“And…” Pierre started once he was parked in front of his family house. You frowned, wondering what you could have potentially forgotten. You memorised everything and it wouldn’t be that hard to pretend after a three year relationship.

But then it hit you when he took the box out of his pocket. “I almost forgot it at home but it’s here.” 

You remember when Pierre proposed to you. 

You went to Greece during the summer break, last year. One night, while you were walking around the city, you found a place that was recreating Mamma Mia and invited everyone to sing and have fun. And so you went there, singing Abba the whole night. At some point during the night, after a kiss that lasted longer than it should in public, Pierre looked at you with a big smile and said “I want to marry you.” You laughed, thinking he was joking. But he wasn’t. “I meant it. Would you marry me?” and this time you started to cry, nodding so hard you had a neckache. 

You later learnt that Pierre had imagined a whole different scenario for the proposal. But it spoke with his heart and did it when it felt perfectly right.

And tonight, you were putting back the ring you worshipped with your whole heart. “It feels weird.” you whispered. 

Pierre didn’t answer and simply left the car. It was hard for him too. Acting like he didn’t lose the woman of his life over stupid decisions.

“Vous voilà! Je suis tellement contente de vous voir.” (oh there you are! I’m so happy to see you)

Before you even got the chance to prepare yourself in front of the door, Pierre’s mom opened it and took you both in her arms. You couldn’t lie, it felt good to see her and feel just as appreciated as before. Like nothing changed. And it was the truth, somehow. For his mom, nothing has changed. You were still her son’s fiancé, the one she almost saw as a daughter.

You looked at them, the way she kept touching his face to see any changes. And, what she told you one day, if he had any scars from races he tried to hide from her. You had this weird feeling of being home. Like you were right where you belong. For a second, you were back a year ago, when everything was perfectly fine. 

But then it hit you when Pierre took your hand to bring you inside to see everyone. It always felt natural when you were holding hands. In one of your birthday cards, you told him he must be your soulmate simply because your hands seemed to be held by the other. 

Tonight, it didn’t feel natural. It was hesitant. Pierre wasn’t confident about closing his fingers on yours and you could feel it.

Everybody seemed so happy to see. They all see you as an official member of their family. And it would be lying to say you weren’t happy to be by their side too. 

It helped that you didn’t see much of them for months. You spend the first two hours of the night talking with everyone but Pierre. Asking about their life, their own family, their friends… you had many things to learn. And you avoided some questions. That was one of the rules you established with Pierre. Pretend that the wedding was a big secret you couldn’t tell a thing about. For the rest, you just made the truth prettier.

Sure, you started a new job. But you didn’t admit it was a full time one because you didn’t go to the races anymore.

Yes, your pet was doing so fine. You just had to find the right pictures that would show your new apartment. 

No, you still haven’t decided where you would spend the winter break with Pierre. Because you weren’t going on any holiday anymore. At least, not together.

The dinner was a little harder to live. Because you sat next to Pierre, like it was planned. Like it has always been. And this time, compared to the whole drive, you felt more trapped. Because you couldn’t roll your eyes at what he was saying, or avoid his hand when he tried to touch you. Everyone would notice that and understand that something was wrong. You had to be careful.

So careful that, at some point during the evening, you even forgot why you were acting like that. You got lost in his stories about races you went to and especially those you miss after your breakup. You laughed at his joke, sympathised with his bad moments and cheered at the podium you missed.

You remember that day, or night actually for you. You didn’t watch the end of the season after your separation but you still had the notifications from the official account. So you knew the results. And when you learnt that Pierre had secured a second place on the podium, you almost called him. It was still a natural reflex: this desire of celebrating with your loved one.

But you didn’t. You didn’t even send him a text. And for one good reason: the last text you got from him was simply “Je suis désolé” (i am sorry) and you couldn’t handle the pain of going through the pain again. 

There had been hard times these past months where you almost forgive Pierre for breaking your engagement. There had been many times where you still wanted to call him and insult him for breaking up just because he woke up one day and realised this was maybe not what he wanted for his future.

What was this? This has been the question you’ve asked yourself many, many times. Was it your couple, your wedding or just you? You had no idea. Pierre couldn’t even explain it himself. He just knew that it wouldn’t be fair to keep pretending he was happy in a life he learnt to despise.

And it was now, sitting by his side, that you realised you had overcome all these mixed feelings. You felt alright. Not good, because the wound was still wide open. But you had accepted it. You would never marry Pierre. And you didn’t want to anymore.

After he finished telling the story of the last race of the season and the battle of champagne he had with Charles, while everyone was talking together, Pierre turned to you. You both got lost in each other's eyes. And you were convinced his little smile was a soft thank you. For being here, for lying, for…being happy. 

Because it hadn’t been easy months for Pierre either. Many times he woke up, thinking he had made the worst decision of his life. And some morning, he still wonders if he didn’t lose you for nothing. And those questions weren’t created by some insecurities about his happiness because he knew that he felt happier without this weight on his shoulder. But because he was scared he had ruined you. He would have accepted to be miserable for the rest of his life over this stupid. But he couldn’t accept hurting you forever.

But tonight, you both realised that maybe, things were going better for the both of you. And maybe, that night, was the one you both needed to start healing.

This helps the rest of the night go smoothly. You played games together, laughed together without thinking about the lie you were telling everyone. Even the drive back home felt natural, you talked about his family a lot. He even asked about yours. It was a whole different from the outward journey earlier. 

Pierre insisted on walking to your door with you. “It wasn’t that bad, right?” you couldn’t help but smile at him. He had this kind of unserious almost flirty tone like he needed to prove to himself and to you that he was right, in the end. It wasn’t such a terrible thing to do. 

You crossed your arms on your chest, a way to protect your heart from opening itself again. “No it wasn’t. You’re right.” he shrugged like it wasn’t such a surprise and you immediately hit him in the chest. You both laughed and oh how it felt good to be this lighthearted again for a few minutes. 

It meant more than you imagined that you were standing in front of your door, with your ex-fiancé in front of you. When you could already be in the bed but rather got lost in his eyes. Because you knew exactly what this moment was. And deep down, you weren’t ready to let it go.

You could hear Pierre talk before he even opened his mouth. “We were good together, huh?” you tried to not focus on his glossy eyes or the way he was playing with his fingers. 

“Yeah, we were.” you smiled, containing your own tears from falling. “It was good while it lasted.” 

Pierre crossed the few steps between you. You closed your eyes when you felt his lips on your forehead. Such a kind and sweet attention you remember he had when you started dating. When, for the first time maybe in his life, he wanted to take things slow to make them last. But this time, there were no other moments to share. And you had to watch him leave your place.

For the last time. 

You finally put the key in the door, taking your time to not close this chapter of your life too fast. “Eh!” you jumped, turning around immediately and saw Pierre holding the elevator’s door open. “You know I'll still love you, right?”

“I do.” you tried to ignore this weird feeling in your stomach, not waiting to think about the fact you ended up saying the two words you would never say to him. “Me too.” 

There lies the truth. You loved each other. Still. 

But you couldn’t be together anymore.

And so when you finally opened the front door and got inside. When Pierre finally let the elevator closed on him and brought him back to his car. You both knew what it meant.