#I'm enjoying what little crumbs they gave me okay

[lem0nn-juice]

Too silly for his own good

[wolfiihoney]

Fair day with papa Toji

I love daddy toji and baby gumi sm!!!

Please enjoy.💖 btw this isn’t my art, all credit goes to the owner.<333

Unedited hehe

You woke up at 9 in the morning on a beautiful Saturday with a huge smile on your face.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you rolled over to Toji's side of the bed, but he was already halfway on top of you, his enormous body draped across yours.

You couldn't help but love the way he smushed you with his weight, so you whispered in his ear "Psst, Toji? Babbyyyyy, wake up.”

"Doll... what are you doing?" Toji mumbled, still half asleep.

He was used to your morning antics and secretly loved them.

You kissed his shoulder and nestled into it, wishing you could merge with his skin. Toji felt the same way about you.

"Mmm, doll," he said, flipping onto your back so that he could hover over you, his large hand gently caressing your soft face. "I'm sure it's much earlier than the time we actually need to be up on a Saturday."

He looked down at you, his sharp eyes soft with affection.

"You always wake up so early on the weekends," he said with a small smile, continuing to stroke your cheek. "I don't know how you do it."

He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment.

"You're like a little sunbeam in the morning, always so full of energy. It’s not very contagious, baby” he said “So tell me why are we up?”

You laughed at the big sleepyhead “It’s fair day! We promised Megumi we’d take him to the fair today, remember?”

Toji's sleepy smile widened as you reminded him of his promise to Megumi.

"Ah, right," he said, his eyes fully open now. "We did promise to take him to the fair, didn't we? Can't have the little troublemaker feeling disappointed."

You gave him a playful little shove on his sculpted chest, trying to maintain focus.

"Now, behave yourself," you scolded, secretly enjoying the way view he was giving, he could be quite distracting. A quick glance at his muscular form and you knew if you weren't careful, you'd never leave the bed.

“Okay toji get dressed, I’ll go wake gumi up.” You said hopping out of bed over to the lovely dresser Toji built for you. You were going through the huge dresser fiddling through the huge folded stack of underwear, underwear that Toji keeps buying. “Ugh Toji, I wish you’d stop buying me so much underwear. I can never find my comfortable ones.”

Toji chuckled from the bed, his eyes still on you as you sifted through the drawer of underwear.

"Aww, but doll, seeing you in those cute little lacy things is one of my favorite pastimes," he said, a cheeky grin on his face.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, your fingers still digging through the pile of undergarments.

"Yeah, I know you like them, but these are too uncomfortable," you whined, holding up a particularly fancy pair of lace panties. Toji laid back on the bed, arms behind his head and completely naked, the blanket riding precariously low on his hips.

He gave you a smirk, his eyes raking over your form.

"Aww, doll, no need to wear any underwear," he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Daddy likes easy access anyway."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, and you hurried out of the bedroom towards the bathroom.

"Toji, stop it!" you exclaimed, hands covering your flushed face.

He let out a loud laugh as you fled the room.

After composing yourself in the bathroom mirror, you emerged from the shower to find your sweet baby Megumi sitting at the table, indulging in whatever Toji had prepared for him.

"Good morning, sweetie," you greeted, giving his hair a warm ruffle.

"Hi, Mommy" Megumi replied, crumbs falling from his mouth a little as he looked up at you with a beaming smile.

You couldn't help but smile back at your mature baby. He certainly had inherited his father's laid-back demeanor, a striking contrast to your bubbly personality.

Toji patted Megumi's head affectionately as the little boy hurried to finish his breakfast.

"That's my boy," Toji said, a hint of pride in his voice. "Eat up, the fair starts in twenty minutes. We don't wanna miss out on the fun, do we?"

Megumi shook his head vigorously, a giggle escaping his lips as he shoveled the food into his mouth with increased haste.

Toji watched megumi with pride as he ate his breakfast, The family you both had built together was a testament to Toji's determination and resilience, silencing all those who once doubted him.

He looped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer for a quick kiss. That simple gesture from him filled your morning with even more warmth and joy, and you responded with a soft smile, basking in the affection he showered upon you.

—

The fair was bustling with energy as little kids ran about, their tongues stained blue from cotton candy and joyous screams filling the air. However, the day wasn't all fun and games for everyone, as the sound of a little girl crying from dropping her ice cream cone in the background (Toji laughed at her a bit)

You had, unfortunately, taken on a roller coaster ride a little too intense for your stomach, leaving you leaning against Toji and heaving into a nearby trash can.

Toji gently rubbed your back. “Are you okay, doll?” He said with a little chuckle and with a weak smile you nodded

You managed a slightly sheepish grin, "Yeah, I think I'm good," you said, still getting over the rollercoaster-induced nausea. "It was fun though… maybe I should go again!?”

Toji chuckled at your suggestion to go again, shaking his head fondly. "Maybe rest first, huh?" he replied, knowing he wanted to tell you to sit your ass down but couldn't resist the sight of your smile.

Toji's heart warmed as he heard your attempt to brush off the aftermath of the rollercoaster ride. He knew you were always the daredevil type, yet seeing you look a little green around the edges softened his heart.

Megumi on the other hand, blissfully unaware of the situation, was having a blast, running around and enjoying the fair. Toji watched his favorite little guy have the time of his life and Seeing his son so happy made Toji a little emotional, and a slight blush dusted his cheeks. Toji's heart filled with a mixture of joy and sadness as he watched Megumi running around, thoroughly enjoying the fair. Seeing his son so carefree and happy stirred up memories of his own troubled childhood. A melancholy smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his eyes glassed over.

Toji couldn't help but contrast his own youth with the beautiful scene unfolding in front of him. It was a moment of bittersweet emotion, as he cherished the sight of Megumi's happiness while carrying the weight of his difficult past, and it made him slightly teary-eyed, though he tried to conceal it. You on the other hand noticed Toji's demeanor turn slightly sad and it made you worry, not wanting to ruin anyone's fun you brushed it off but only for now.

After the fun-filled fair, you were all back home, preparing for dinner. Toji was locked in a playful, totally not serious game of “tug-of-war” with Megumi over a piece of candy the little one had won earlier. As you were in the kitchen, thoughts of Toji's sudden emotional moment at the fair danced through your mind. Knowing that expressing his feelings wasn't his strongest suit and that you weren't much better, therapy was something you both attended weekly. But now, you found yourself wondering about the emotions Toji had experienced that day.

Once dinner was over and Megumi safely tucked into bed, you stepped into the living room and found Toji sitting quietly on the couch, his gaze fixated on a stuffed animal.

Toji seemed lost in thought, his eyes distant and contemplative. He didn't notice your approach at first, his mind seemingly miles away. As you stood there studying him, a mixture of curiosity and concern filled your heart.

You sat down beside Toji, your touch on his hand gentle and soothing. "Whatcha thinking about baby?" you asked quietly.

He sighed softly, returning the squeeze to your hand. "Just... how proud I am of Megumi," he confessed.

Your heart swelled with affection at his words. "He's truly amazing," you agreed, giving him a tender kiss on the cheek. "And it's all because of you," you added, acknowledging his role in Megumi's upbringing.

Toji let out a soft chuckle, his gaze fixing on you. "Nah," he replied, his smile gentle. "It's because of you."

You decided to probe further, sensing his earlier emotions. "Toji, why did you get so emotional earlier today? Is everything okay?"

Toji inhaled deeply, his eyes darting away for a brief moment before returning to your gaze. "I've told you about my childhood and seeing Megumi reminded me of how much neglect I experienced," he shared, his voice heavy with memories. You nodded, empathy etched on your face. "I know, Toji," you said gently, holding his hand as a gesture of support.

"But you're breaking that cycle," you continued, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "You're providing Megumi with love and care, and though that’s something you may have not received as a child, you're giving him the childhood you deserved."

Toji's eyes softened at your words, vulnerability flashing across his face. He looked down at your intertwined hands, the weight of your understanding sinking in.

"I never want Megumi to feel the loneliness and indifference I experienced," he admitted his voice a mixture of pain and determination. "I want him to have a family, a home, and a father that would love him no matter what. I never want him to know the emptiness I felt growing up."

As Toji's confession settled in the air, the weight of his past and the love he held for his son hung heavy between you both. Feeling a need to comfort him, you delicately moved closer, your hand still holding his.

"You're doing such a wonderful job with him," you encouraged gently. "Megumi is so lucky to have you as his father. You're giving him everything you never had, and that's what makes you an incredible dad." Toji's lips curled into a bittersweet smile as he looked at you. "I just want him to have a better life than I did," he said quietly.

You moved even closer, your presence a gentle balm to his troubled heart. "And he does," you reassured him. "He has a loving family, a stable home, and a father who cares for him deeply."

Toji's gaze shifted back to yours, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and appreciation. "You always know how to make me feel better," he murmured, squeezing your hand affectionately.

The emotional intensity began to lift a bit, replaced by a warm sense of comfort. Toji's smile softened, and he gently rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand.

He chuckled lightly then said, "You know, it's not just Megumi who's lucky. I got pretty damn lucky finding you too."

Your heart fluttered at his words, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Oh, stop it," you chided playfully, gently swatting at his shoulder.

But Toji wasn't having any of it. He pulled you closer, his free arm wrapping around your waist. "I mean it," he said, his gaze intense. "Finding you was the best thing that ever happened to me."

As the moment between you and Toji deepened, a lighthearted mood began to settle in. Toji's eyes twinkled with amusement as he tightened his arm around your waist.

"Now that Megumi's asleep," he began, his voice low and sultry, "how about you give me a little fashion show with all of those uncomfortable panties you were complaining about earlier, huh?"

“Bye Toji!” You shouted as you ran out of the living room and all you could hear was the boom of laughter coming from your crazy husband

[earlysunshines]

are we still friends? (can we be friends?)

minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; fluff, angst 

synopsis: seeing sana again during christmas causes feelings to resurface

warnings: food ; alcohol ; datzu crumbs ; cursing ; proofread halfway bc i got lazy + grammar and spelling errors probably

a/n: how to write angst?? am i cooked?? (I'm cooked) ALSO I wrote this in December so a lonnnngg time ago like when I touched the doc for the first time two days ago it said last edited 12/30/23 T-T

“y/n! come help with the decorations, it a bit tough to reach.” your mom calls out from the entrance.  

pausing in your place, you turn to respond to her, “i’ll be there in a bit, let me finish mixing everything.” 

“okay honey. make sure to wear a coat when you get out here, it’s chilly!” she yells back before closing the door. 

a giggle leaves your lips as you continue to sift the dry ingredients, trying not to spill the flour and sugar. when you’re done with a part of your cookie process, you wash your hands and throw on your puffer jacket before heading out to help your mom. 

christmas is in four days and your mom has this annual thing where she throws a big party at your place every christmas eve. she invites all her friends who are back in town—some even fly out to come to this big event—and it goes on until the concerningly late hours of the night.  

your mom didn’t get to throw this big party last year because she was terribly sick, so you missed it that time, but now she’s so back.  

this means you’re in charge of the baking (yet again) and also helping her out everywhere. it’s not that you don’t enjoy this, if anything you look forward to this event—just not this year, it won’t be the same as the previous christmas parties. 

your mom has this friend who moved in five minutes away from your house when you were twelve, and they had a daughter your age. of course, both your mothers found a way to get you guys to meet, and eventually, you’d be spending the majority of your middle and high school years together stuck by the hip. 

her name was minatozaki sana; she was the first person you had fallen in love with inside and out.  

she had this type of vibrance to her that spread through her surroundings like a bullet train. if the room was dim, it’d seem like she had brought a piece of the sun inside just by being there, instantly illuminating it. it was palpable that she had her flaws, everyone did, but with the way she held herself up and gave her all, you’d see right past her imperfections and into that warm heart of hers. 

sana expected nothing and appreciated everything, that’s what made her lips curl up into a contagious grin. the streaks of creased skin in the corner of her eyes as she flashed that toothy grin gave everyone the intimation that she was simply overjoyed to be able to have the ability to love and to care. she was so beautiful in the way she found adoration so enticing, and that’s why you had fallen in love with her. 

your years with her passed by quickly, each year was filled with vibrant memories that led you to fall even deeper into her charm. however, you never mustered up the courage to tell her how you really felt toward her, and by the time you had gotten close to spilling out your pent up feelings; sana had found herself a little boyfriend. 

chris was some guy on the basketball team—who was also a bit short and lacking skill to even make the team—he was an arrogant, pretentious, and egotistical snob who managed to win sana’s heart. how did he do this? who knows, everyone who’s interacted with him either hates his guts or is in love with his pathetic self.  

he was only nice around sana, but you had seen him when he wasn’t pretending like there wasn't a stick up his ass. he was below the bare minimum and that’s how you’d describe him, he was nowhere near sana’s league. if anything, maybe you were just jealous (and that you were), but you knew what kind of person deserved sana—chris was not someone who deserved a wonderful woman like her. 

that asshole managed to win sana’s heart and keep it for half of junior year and all of senior year of high school, then he managed to convince her to go to a college that was a five-hour flight away from home—and by the way, your town was a two-hour drive from a well-known, top notch university, one that you and sana agreed to go to when you were both in middle school. 

there was no way you’d let sana go to that college, not when chris was the reason she was going. it was a school that wasn’t even comparable to the one not so far from home, the one that had significant alumni and programs fit for the both of you. sana could easily win a decent scholarship to the university you’ve been dreaming of going to, but she was going to let him change her mind in a matter of seconds. 

there was no way you’d let that happen, so you simply walked over to her house and stormed up to her room after seeing her text regarding this whole plan, a fool’s plan.  

- 

you remember the argument that shattered your friendships in seconds, almost like it was yesterday. 

“sana, you can’t just go to that school because of chris. look, i’m saying this as your friend and because i love you: he’s not all that, and the uni nearby has great health programs, they’re ten times better than the school over there and you know it.” you argue.  

you’re pacing around the room that you and sana have had countless late-night conversations and sleepovers in, the place where you had done more for sana than chris did. your eyes land on the two strips of laminated paper that hold the memory of the time you two had gone to the photobooth on your sixteenth birthday, your brows crease at the sight of your cheeks squished with sana’s as the two of you posed. a heavy breath makes your lungs shrink as you exhale. 

“i can’t let you do this, not for him sana.” 

“but i love him so much y/n, you know this. he promised we could stay in an apartment together and that everything would be perfect, we have a whole future planned and i—” 

“what about us sana?” you cut her off, voice breaking slightly. “what about our future? we promised that we’d go to that uni together, what happened to that? you’re going to throw it away for him?” 

“you’re being ridiculous y/n, we were thirteen! things change and you need to grow up, look—”  

“we’ve known each other since elementary school and you’re throwing away this opportunity for a guy whose grades are falling apart. not only that, he’s a fucking ass! you’ve come crying and complaining to me more times than i can count on my left hand.” you respond angrily, and much louder than you meant to. 

sana looks at you in disbelief, her expression almost carrying some sort of disappointment or disgust. she scoffs and you feel your heart shatter just from hearing it, this isn’t like her at all. 

“if you were so fucking annoyed by my misery then you could’ve told me,” she responds harshly, water lining her eyes.  

“sana that’s not what i—" 

“you’re supposed to be my best friend, always there for me and to support me. now look at you, what happened to that? can’t you be happy for me and chris? i seriously love him and all you’ve been is mopey and bitchy whenever he’s around.” 

“i know more people that have treated you better than him. he’s an asshole sana, it’s clear as day and even dahyun agrees.” 

her eyes meet the floor and she says in a smaller voice, “i love him y/n, and he loves me.” 

not like i love you, never will he love you like that. 

your features soften as you look at her. “sana you can’t—” 

“get out of my room.” sana spits in a stinging tone that’s worse than a dagger to your heart. she shakes her head then turns to avoid your gaze and your heart completely shatters as you watch a tear slide down her cheek in the process. “get out of my house, i don’t want to hear it.” 

“sana,” you begin, but when you hear her sniffle, you hold back everything that’s burning in your chest. your shoulders give up and sink in defeat before you croak out an “okay.” 

turning around, you step out of her bedroom with a heavy heart and trembling lips. tears stream down your cheeks as you make your way out of the house where sana and you had spent countless hours together—hours that you’d never forget no matter how hard you tried. 

- 

each breath you take is visible in the cold air and snow compresses with each step you take whilst hanging up the christmas lights. your mother smiles once you pin the last string up and  then you take a step back to admire the illuminating pattern of diverse hues beaming when your mom presses the “on” button. 

“thank you again honey, i appreciate it.” your mom says, holding your hand and squeezing it gently.  

you turn and smile at her, shaking your head before responding, “anytime mom.” 

the two of you enter the house again and immediately you’re on your way back to the kitchen to finish up your famous cookies. you three different types of cookies: chocolate chip cookies (the fastest batch to be eaten), matcha cookies with white chocolate chips, and ube cookies—sana’s favorites. 

-- 

“ube? what’s that?” sana says, giggling softly as you hand her a purple cookie with white chocolate chunks.  

“just try it sana, you’ll love it.” you assure, urging her to try. “it’s purple too, how could you not?” 

she rolls her eyes at you then picks up the sweet treat, taking a bite of the cookie. it’s crunchy on the outside and perfectly soft on the inside, making her shoulders sink down and eyes close when the new, thrilling flavor meets her tastebuds. 

“so, how is it?” you ask, raising your brows. sana simply smiles and nods, shooting a dorky thumbs up before taking another bite. 

“it’s wonderful, it’s like coconut and nutty and has vanilla and oh my gosh it’s so… it’s really good.” she sighs, melting as she consumes your baked good. she looks adorable. 

you laugh at her response and take a bite of your own experiment, eyes widening at how good they were. sana was right, they’re wonderful. 

-- 

“ah the purple cookies, those were a hit ever since you started making them.” your mom says, rubbing your back. she looks at you with some pity, knowing about your little falling out with sana. 

you simply smile and nod. “i like them, i was going to save some for myself too.” you joke, easing some tension in the air. 

“well, i’m going to call your dad up, go visit the kim’s later and tell them i said hi.” your mom insists, placing a twenty dollar bill on the marble counter. “heard they have a holiday latte out, you should try it. dahyun’s also been experimenting with her baking and beverages, she gets better each time i visit.” 

“of course she is,” you chuckle lightheartedly, “let me just finish these last cookies and i’ll put them in the fridge for a bit. did you want anything from their place?” 

“no, it’s fine. oh wait! i have a present for dahyun’s mom, can you give her this if she’s there?” she asks. 

“mhm,” you hum,  “just put it near my bag on the couch.” 

“thanks sweetie, i’ll do that.” your mother beams, then rushes towards her room to grab whatever it was that she needed. 

-- 

ring  

the sound of the bell chimes throughout the café—which is not too busy other than the elderly group in the corner and a student typing away at their computer to the side. you catch sight of the familiar face, instantly grinning when you walk towards the register. 

dahyun is turned away from you and cleaning the espresso machine, wiping it down and yelling a “welcome! feel free to check out the holiday pastries and beverages!” without turning towards you. 

you laugh and speak up, “it’s nice to see you miss know-it-all.” and upon hearing your voice dahyun instantly turns around, beaming a bright grin and setting her rag down. 

“y/n? you didn’t tell me you were in town? what the hell where were you last year?” she questions, walking out from behind the counter and then towards you to greet you with a warm hug. she smells like coffee grinds and cinnamon, you hug her back and smile. 

“i was deathly sick last year, like seriously fighting for my life. i didn’t tell you?” 

“no stupid, you didn’t.” she sighs, then pulls away to look at you. “i’ve only seen your instagram posts, haven’t seen you in a bit and wow… you look better than in the pictures.” 

“thank you?” you giggle before she walks over to return back behind the register. “i’ve also seen your instagram… who’s that girl you’ve been posting? got a girl and didn’t fill me in with the details?” you pry, smirking cheekily. 

“oh, tzu… gosh y/n we have so much to talk about, i’m glad you’re back in town.” dahyun says appreciatively, and you don’t miss the slight pink that dusts on her cheeks before she starts again, “let’s talk over some coffee. what can i get you? on the house by the way. we have like, thirty minutes before a bunch of people start piling in.” 

a giggle leaves your lips again before you decide on a peppermint mocha. dahyun gets to work and weighs out the coffee grins as you situate yourself to the side, watching her work her magic. 

the two of you catch up on what’s been going on with college, dahyun’s love life that you’ve missed out on, and what you’ve been up to yourself. twenty minutes pass and you’ve both ended up on some old memory that has the two of you laughing like idiots again, making both your stomachs hurt. 

“so… we’ve talked about what’s been going on with me… what about you and your love life? bet you’ve met a girl too.” dahyun interrogates with a teasing tone.  

“oh, well—” you begin, awkwardly staring at the cup in your hand. “i dated this girl for a while, but we ended up falling out and staying friends, nothing much… we just weren’t right for each other.” 

“i see…” dahyun responds, holding herself back from bringing up the sensitive topic—or, well, person.  

dahyun was aware of the falling out as well, but still stayed friends with sana. however, she was your friend before she met sana, so she had made sure if it was alright to keep contact and whatnot. of course you didn’t want your own personal problems to get in between other friendships, and you still loved sana despite everything that had happened so you gave dahyun the green light.  

after running to dahyun the same night of the argument with sana, you cried for an hour or two in her room. this was the first time you turned to someone other than sana, and dahyun had been on your side of the whole situation, making it easier to comfort and reassure you. she also disliked chris, but not as much as she liked you. 

she pretty much agreed with everything you had ranted about and thought it was stupid that sana would rather choose that asshole over someone like you, and later on you’d confess that you were in love with sana to dahyun. when everything had been rocky with sana, dahyun had been by your side, and you were grateful for that. 

“well, maybe you’ll land yourself a kiss under the mistletoe, who knows who’ll be showing up to your christmas party.” dahyun nudges you, smiling as she hands you some peppermint chocolate bark treat. “i could always set you up~” 

“it’s fine, really.” you guarantee. a smile spreads across your face and you dismiss her offer with a wave of your hand. “um, by the way… has um, has she stopped by or anything like that recently? does sana still visit—" 

there’s another ring from the door opening that cuts you off, making dahyun’s attention redirect towards the customer walking in. her eyes widen and she pauses in place before smiling awkwardly, then she mumbles an uneasy “um, be back…” before walking over to the register. 

you don’t think much of her weird mood shift and instead swirl around the small remainder of coffee in the latte cup. 

“hi dahyun! it’s nice to see you again.” a voice beams.  

you freeze in place, all of your body tensing up as soon as the familiar voice processes through your ears. it’s smooth, it’s sweet, and it has that same high-pitched ring and giggle that follows. immediately, your heartbeat spikes and you’re doing anything you can to avoid interacting or even looking in the woman’s direction. 

“it’s nice to see you too sana,” dahyun greets with a bubbly tone. the name being uttered from dahyun’s mouth is enough to make your hands grip the cup in your hand a little tighter. “can i get you anything?”  

“hm… i’ll have that peppermint mocha please. i’m also going to take a look around the bakery, i need to grab some treats for others. you know how it is, holidays and whatnot.” sana says in that adorable tone, it has you falling for her all over again just when you thought you’d gotten over everything that’s happened. 

quickly, you finish the last sip of your coffee before setting the empty cup down abruptly. it makes a small yet noticeable sound with the glass plate it had been sitting on, making sana advert her gaze.  

the small gift you had set down beside you is now placed on the glass that covers the display of christmas themed cakes. dahyun looks at you in confusion and tilts her head before you turn to smile at her, avoiding sana’s widening eyes. 

“thanks for the coffee dahyun, take the present on the glass to your mom—it’s from my mom to yours.” you start, trying to keep your voice level 

every ounce of restraint and discipline is fighting back the urge to simply glance at sana, who’s standing right in front of dahyun. you almost manage to avoid her, but it’s inevitable, your eyes land on your first love for the first time in almost two years. 

she’s looking at you with parted lips and surprise, but she still looks as beautiful as you remember. sana looks a little more mature than when you last saw her; the curve of her jaw is sharper, lips somehow brighter and her features are more defined overall. sana is wearing a scarf that fits around her neck comfortably, a brown, fluffy sweater, and dark sweatpants with uggs to compliment the outfit. there’s simplicity in her look—she’s jaw dropping, the sight of her makes your jaw tighten and heartbeat spike.  

her eyes meet yours for exactly three seconds, enough time to have every memory flowing in. 

clearing your throat, you finish your farewell to dahyun with a smile, “i’ll see you around, my mom says hi to your mom, tell her i also said hi too. i’ll get going now, have a good one.” 

your body doesn’t fight back the urge to glance at sana again—big mistake—before turning around and walking out the door. 

sana keeps her look on you the whole time, baffled to see you here and her own heart yearns for you. she’s missed you more than you’d ever know, and more than she’d like to admit. it doesn’t help her case that you’re ten times more attractive than when she’d last seen you at graduation. 

“you should talk to her.” dahyun says softly. sana keeps her eye on the door, you’re already out and probably in your car, but she keeps her eye on the door still. 

“were you talking to her earlier?” sana asks, now turning to face the younger woman. 

“we were catching up.” dahyun answers. the woman behind the register turns around to start making sana’s drink, unknowingly the same drink you had ordered. it all makes dahyun’s own heart sink in her chest a bit. “how long has it been since you’ve talked to her?” 

“since graduation.” sana explains, looking down at the counter. “i messed up.” 

dahyun turns around again to see sana, sorrow and regret etching into her features. the barista frows and reaches over to place her hand on sana’s shoulder, then rubs it gently.  

“talk to her, there’s always time to fix things. especially with y/n.” 

-- 

a few days past since that meeting, you’re still shaken up from it to say the least.  

sana is too, but you aren’t aware of that. 

to stray away from this event that is dreadfully close to leading to some form of existential crisis or spiral, you’re helping your mom out with setting up the last few decorations and tables while your cookies that you chilled a couple days ago bake.  

dahyun is also coming over with her girlfriend in the evening to exchange a couple of greetings and to properly introduce her girlfriend tzuyu to you. your mother had met tzuyu before and talked highly about her, so you were excited to meet her yourself.  

when the time comes, you hear a knock at the door and shoot up to answer it. you open the door and dahyun stands there with a nervous grin on her face. next to her stands tzuyu—and sana.  

your eyes widen and your jaw tenses when you see her perfect face, standing next to tzuyu with this awkward smile. she’s wearing a gray pullover and black sweatpants; an orange scarf also wraps around her neck comfortably. she looks snug and cute as ever, no matter what she’s adorable in your eyes. your heart flutters and you get all nervous like a teenager again. 

pushing away the edginess flowing throughout your whole being, you greet dahyun with a warm hug, then give tzuyu and friendly one as well. you’re not sure how to greet sana, being all shaken up by just her presence, so you resort to a smile and a small “hi sana,” then invite them all in. 

sana walks in and her hand brushes against your arm on accident, the two of you definitely notice it—though you both decide to ignore it and the warmth in your chests.  

your mom greets all the girls with a hug and the five of you sit down in your homey living room. sana sits across from you on the couch next to your mom, and you sit there avoiding eye contact as you all catch up. 

an hour passes by and dahyun is over in the living room talking to your mom about what’s been going on with her parents and the bakery. in the meantime, you decide to give yourself a break from feeling all nervous just by being near sana. 

standing up, you announce, “i’m going to the kitchen for a bit.” your mom simply raises her brows at your sudden departure, you’ve been silent for most of the conversation and it seems like you’re the only one affected by the tension in the room. “won’t be long.” you add, smiling weakly. 

the fridge is still full of some essentials, and to the side, there’s some cold brew and your favorite coconut milk; everything you need is right where you need it. you head over to the counter and grab your favorite glass cup, heart stinging at the memory of when you had received it. it was one of the many gifts from sana. 

you grab some ice and put it in the cup, then add your cold brew inside. then you grab a small cup with some honey and search for a spoon so you can mix it in with the coconut milk. 

“drinking coffee at this time?” a voice says, making you freeze. you break out of your short trance and hum in response before continuing to make your drink. 

“you know i can’t resist a good coffee, sana.” and the way her name slips off your tongue feels right. you haven’t said it often since the falling out and it still rolls off perfectly, it feels right coming from you. you’re hesitant to talk again, feeling her eyes drill into your back. something in your heart shifts and you manage to ask, “did you want something to drink?” 

“yeah,” she answers, walking over to you and sitting at the kitchen island. “same thing you’re drinking, but sweeter.” 

of course she wants it sweet, just like always.  

“okay.”  

your back is still turned towards sana and she watches you grab another glass. as you do so, she gets a glimpse of your own glass and smiles. “is that the cup i got you?”  

still fixing up her drink, you nod and answer, “yeah. it’s my favorite.” 

“a lot of your gifts are my favorites too.” she admits, her voice so soft and fragile that you’re scared the thick tension in the air might break it. 

sana watches you turn around, but you still avoid her gaze. you place both cups on the surface of the kitchen island and begin to pour the coconut milk mixtures into the coffee. the liquids swirl as they combine, creating a satisfying view. sana’s quick to redirect her attention back to you, staring at your face again. 

last time she had saw you at dahyun’s cafe, she only had the chance to get a simple glance at your features, not enough time to fully take in everything that’s changed about your apperance. there’s two new piercings on both ears and a new, small tattoo below your ear; the length of your hair is also noticeably longer. your lips part as you swirl both cups in your hands around, and then you take a quick glance to the side, allowing sana to admire your side profile and the unique curve of your nose and lips. 

you hold the mug out for her and finally meet her eyes again. sana’s favorite thing about you were your eyes, they’re still as pretty as she remembers.  

- 

it’s some thursday night during your sophomore year of high school, you were supposed to be studying with sana for your math quiz tomorrow, but she had other ideas.  

“stay still,” sana mumbles softly. 

she situates you in the chair near her desk and tilts your head up with the fingers holding your chin. she’s inches away from you as she puts some sort of sponge on your face, brows creasing as she does so. your heart is racing. 

after a couple of minutes, sana finishes up your makeup. she’s done some type of natural look on you, nothing too heavy or bold. you look at yourself through the mirror and take a moment to examine sana’s doings. as you do so, sana can’t keep her eyes off you. 

something in her heart shifts as she admires you. her eyes land on your lips, they’re oddly alluring, and sana’s cheeks burn. 

“sana you’re staring… do i look weird?” 

“no,” she practically breathes out, mouth slightly agape. “you’re beautiful.” she says breathlessly, her expression turning all serious it makes you giggle awkwardly. 

there have been many moments where sana has found you pretty, not just physically. your small gifts and reassurance have made her heart flutter, but she’s always figured that was just because she loved you deeply as a friend. but when you stare at her with those eyes in this moment, she’s so surprised by everything she feels. she's giddy and happy and warm inside and gosh her heart wants to jump out her chest and cling onto you. she's not opposed to the feeling; she always has this feeling aorunf you and she loves it. that's why she’s always around you in the first place. 

her face burns and you’re gazing at her all confused, you look so cute. 

growing nervous from how non-verbal sana has been, you try to shake her out of her trance. “hey, you’re scaring me. earth to sana? hellooooo…?” 

“how are you so pretty all the time.” sana’s eyes soften and her whole body relaxes as she rests her head on her palm. “like, your face is so perfect and your eyes… god y/n, whoever gets to be with you would be so lucky, seriously. like, you’re honestly the prettiest girl in our school, how do you not have a boyfriend?” 

your cheeks flush from the abrupt compliment, so you push her gently and giggle. sana giggles along with you, still star-struck. you’re both young and unknowingly in love with each other—giggles and teasing seem to be the only way to hide that. 

- 

sana has always found you attractive, after all these years she still hasn’t figured out why she made the mistake of pursuing chris instead of the person who was always there for her—and ten times prettier. you’ve always been right there, she’s a fool for looking right past you. 

sana grabs the mug, still making eye contact with you and both your eyes soften at the same time. 

“y/n i’m sorry.” she says immediately, “i messed up really bad and—” 

“sana,” you cut her off, “just enjoy the drink.” she watches you smile at her, it’s genuine and small, still enough to calm her nerves. you grab your glass and walk towards the door to the porch, tilting your head and urging her to come follow. sana figures she could pour her heart out later, if it were on the porch it wouldn’t be the first time she’s poured out her emotions there.  

the two of you find a seat across from each other, the fairy lights above create some type of ambiance to ease the tension that’s hanging in the air like an invisible cloak of some sort, suffocating the two of you with its unease. 

“how have you been?” sana asks. it’s cliché, but what else was she supposed to say?  

you don’t look up from the drink in your hand when you respond, “good, you?”  

“likewise.” sana lies, her jaw clenching.  

“you know,” you begin, and with intent, your eyes meet her face and she’s doing the same as you had been doing before; she simply sits there with the drink in her hand, looking quite on edge. “i figured if i were to see you again like this, chris would be with you.”  

“we broke up three months after we moved in together.” sana says quietly, “i broke up with him.” 

“sana…” you mumble quietly, surprised to say the least. “why— what?” 

“i ruined everything between you and i because i was so blinded by his affection, i couldn’t stay with him anymore with guilt clawing at me.” she explains, her voice breaking slightly. “and i couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after hurting you. losing you was the biggest mistake of my life. god, it took everything in me to come back to you.” 

“you never lost me sana,”  

“i’m just… sorry for everything, i really am.” she says sincerely, “and i don’t think enough words could really explain how sorry i am.” 

you look at her with pity, and despite her coldness towards you during the last semester of your senior year, you decide to let everything go. she’s your best friend after all, you promised yourself to be there. 

“it’s okay.” you say, it’s not the truth, but it’s not a lie either. “it was my fault too for letting the distance between us get larger.” 

“don’t say that, it’s not your fault.” sana sighs. she takes a sip of the coffee, it’s good, of course— everything you’ve ever made for her has been great. “i only stayed with chris because i was scared. that’s why it was so easy for me to leave everyone i loved behind, i think.” 

“scared? …of what?” 

she looks dead into your eyes and exhales, “i realized that, that maybe i was with chris because i was trying to push down how i felt about you.” 

you tilt your head in confusion, then begin to pry, “sana what do you mean—" 

“y/n, i was falling for you and it terrified me. i mean, i loved you, and honestly, i think i still do. i'm so fucking dumb, god i'm just oblivious.” sana says, then immediately, your heart rate spikes and your brows raise. she continues while fidgeting with her fingers, “i guess it’s easier to admit now because we’ve grown distant, and physically we’re distant enough. chris treated me alright and loved me, but i came crying to you all the time because he never treated me like how i wanted you to treat me, i don’t know why i did that. i don’t know why i let myself go through that when i had you. every time i’d kiss him i wished it were you, every time we did anything honestly.” 

sana's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, their glossy shine failing to hide the immense emotions she was desperately trying to suppress. the weight of her confession hung in the air, causing the entire world to momentarily freeze. it felt as though time itself had paused, giving you a moment to absorb the magnitude of her words. 

sana loved you, and she still does. you loved her, and you still do.  

but really, you can’t. you can’t go through with this. it’s too sudden, so unorganized and uncertain. 

all of this is a recipe for disaster. 

the echo of her vulnerability reverberated through the atmosphere, your mind spun in a cyclone of emotions. thoughts collided and collided again like football players during some game, leaving your head in a dizzying state of confusion, the sheer intensity of it all was jarring, leaving you all disoriented. the feelings you suppressed were finding their way back out, and you found yourself teetering on the precipice of vulnerability once again, just as you did years ago. 

finding out that sana loved you still gave you hope, but the revelation also made you uneasy. it had been too long without sana, and so much had happened, so there was the chance that things would be all rocky. besides, it’s just too sudden. 

“i’m— sorry for dumping all of this, i just wanted to give you closure because… well, i should’ve given you it years ago.” a tear streams down her eye as she says this, and then she begins to stand. “i should leave, i’m sorry for not letting you know i was coming— god i’m so sorry.” 

“sana wait—” you start, grabbing her wrist. she looks into your eyes, her’s are still glossy. you decide it’s better to let her go for now, unsure if this is the last time you’ll see her after this—hopefully not. “it’s okay, just… be careful. you know i’m always here, always sha.” 

the nickname that you made up for her makes her heart crack a little, she can only smile back at you for now. 

— 

the conversation between dahyun, tzuyu, and your mom is interrupted when dahyun catches the sight of sana pulling her scarf off the hook and wrapping it around her neck again. she takes account of the slight flush of her nose and cheeks, as well as her water-lined eyes. 

“you’re leaving?” dahyun asks, concern clear in her tone. sana simply smiles and nods, “yeah, i’ll see you at the holiday party. it was nice seeing you too miss l/n, i missed all of this.” 

“you’re always welcome honey,” your mother assures, “where’s y/n?” 

“out on the porch, she said she’ll be back in a bit. i’ll see you all, thank you.” sana says before departing, leaving the three women in the living room perplexed. 

a few minutes later whilst the three in the living room conjure up theories of what had happened while you and sana had been gone—you appear with a blank expression. you sit down next to your mom and lean against her, not saying a word. 

tzuyu (who is only briefly caught up with whatever had happened between you and sana, and she deinfitely needs a thorough presentation on your history) looks at dahyun and tilts her head, dahyun simply shakes her own head. 

“sana and i talked a bit, resolved and made things clear.” you say, answering the elephant in the room. “i’m heading up, i’m getting sleepy and i want to have some energy for the party tomorrow.” you add. “it was nice getting to know you tzuyu, you’re perfect for the idiot beside you. night everyone.” chuckling quietly in between responses. 

and with that you’re walking up the stairs to your room, leaving your mom, tzuyu, and dahyun perplexed yet again. 

- 

december 25th, five o’clock pm. 

you're greeting guests, various familiar faces and their parents, family friends, and whoever else you mom managed to fit on the list. 

the party is lively, with people scattered in the backyard and on the little porch while your dad grills his signature bbq meats. your mom laughs with her friends as she sips on her wine, moving her hands around as she talks to emphasize her little life updates. 

in the basement with you are your old high school friends: momo, her cousin mina, jaehyun, mark, johnny, seulgi, sooyoung, jeongyeon, and dahyun, who’s accompanied by tzuyu. the rest of your frineds couldn’t make it, they were probably out of town. all of them sit on the floor or couch with a can of smirnoff or soda, all chatting and laughing over old memories. 

you lean against jaehyun as you laugh, letting yourself hide behind his shoulder while mark ruthlessly brings up each embarrassing phase you’ve had. what a guy, a guy you’ll be figthing soon if he keeps this up. 

the feeling of your phone ringing against your palm as you hold it catches your attention, directing you from the conversation at hand. the screen shows a call from “mom♡” which earns a confused look. you answer the call, cupping the phone so you can hear her better as you answer. 

“hello? did you need something?” 

“hey honey, would you mind coming out for a bit? someone wants to see you.” 

“someone?” you ask, “one of your friends or...?” 

“just come on out sweetie.” she insistts. 

“okay okay, whatever you say.” you respond before ending the call and starting to get up. jaehyun looks up at you with a quirked brow as he sips on his drink. you look back and shrug, “my mom wants me to meet ‘someone,’ probably one of her friends or something. i won’t be long.” you respond to him and let the others know. 

"alright, take your time," jaehyun says with a nod, setting his drink down. "hopefully, it won't be too boring," he adds with a small smirk, teasing you gently. you roll your eyes playfully in response before grabbing your jacket and heading towards the sliding door.  

you were right about the guess on seeing your mom's friend, or—friends. however, the sudden chill you get when seeing the minatozaki’s on the porch makes you tense up.  

they're standing there, glasses of wine in their hands as they look at you. sana's mom has a smile on her face, so does her dad. you walk up to them and try to shake off your nerves, fully hugging sana’s mom and giving sana’s dad a side hug. 

“it’s been a while hasn’t it?” sana’s mom says, putting her hand on your shoulder and grinning. “it’s wonderful to see you again.” 

“likewise.” you respond, melting into relaxation the more you get used to this atmosphere. “how have you all been?” 

after a tense reunion with sana’s parents, they find out about your ambitions and what you’ve been up to. not much is mentioned about the falling out between you and their daughter, but the thought most definitely lingers in the cold, winter air.  

sana's parents tell you about an internship she earned at a hospital her first year, saying they’re proud of her for helping others and the bonus of the nice paycheck that came with the experience. they tell you she’s found herself a guaranteed transfer to your school and that she’s excited to help even more people in the nursing program. it sounds like sana’s a great person, she’s always wanted to help others, it makes you smile and nod as her parents update you on what she’s been up to. 

but there’s this feeling of uncertainty and sorrow brewing. the fact that you have to hear about sana from anyone but her breaks you a bit, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t hesitate to update each other back then. now, it seems like you’re missing a chunk of memories that you could’ve shared with sana. 

“we asked her to come to the party.” mr. minatozaki says, looking at you with a sympathetic smile. “she said she’d consider it.” 

“oh, i see.” you respond, nodding whilst looking at the ground.  

part of you is glad that she’s not here, but who are you kidding, there would never be a time where you’d be dissapointed to catch her near you, despite the paranoia taking over. 

“well, it’s nice to catch up y/n. we've missed you, it’s great to see how well you’re doing. your parents must be proud.” mr. minatozaki concludes, looking at you with admiration. 

“yeah, thanks.” you say, “well, i'll leave you to talk to my parents, but i'll stop by again to talk to you two. it's really nice to catch up, i've missed you guys too, and your wonderful dinners.” you add jokingly, earning a laugh from the couple. 

sana's mom kisses your temple and hugs you, then lets you walk back into the house. 

it seems like this whole night has been full of surprises—scratch that, at this point, everything is a surprise ever since you've been back in town. especially now, because once you step into the kitchen, there’s a familiar woman who’s making your knees weak all over again. 

“y/n, hey.” sana greets softly, smiling at you. 

she's just hung up her scarf on the little hook near the fridge, the same place she’d always hang it back then. there was this unspoken rule that when sana was here, there were certain spaces that belonged to her; the hook near the fridge, the chair at the dining table closest to the living room, the right side of your bed, and the left side of the couch in the basement.  

still, you’re pissed at the fact she had practically cut you off completely over a boy just to come back years later to win you back. it irritated you how easy it was for sana to convince you, but you were much angrier at the thought of her coming back to see you because her and chris didn’t work out. was she serious about the breakup? was that all it took to forget that she had caused so much mental turmoil? 

despite this, her being in your house again and seeing her at this christmas party like years before; everything reminds you of the fact that sana had always lingered in your home. 

“hey, didn’t think you’d make it.” you respond, watching her shrug. 

“my parents said your signature cookies are here, i had to.” 

can't be the only reason, you want to mumble, but your lips stay sealed. 

sana speaks again, “i stole a couple, ate some earlier actually. still as great as i remembered.” 

“thanks.” you mutter, walking over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “did you want to talk about something?” 

“what do you mean?” 

“there’s a reason you came, and i know it’s for me since you’re not in the basement with everyone else. we both know that’s the signature spot.” 

sana cringes at your tone, but gives in. 

“i just wanted to see you, and hopefully talk to you normally.” 

it's taking everything in you to hold your ground, to protect yourself from this sudden appearance that’s making you all uneasy again. you can’t let sana screw you up again with a simple visit, you can’t. 

“i know you’re sorry but sana, you treated me so terribly. do you know how much i cried? how fucking terrible i felt after losing my friend of years to chris?” you seethe, sighing. “part of me wants to start over, maybe try again—but how can i do that when there’s the chance of you throwing away everything, we rebuild over another stupid fucking guy.” 

she looks at you with guilt in her eyes, her shoulders sinking and words jumbling in her throat.  

“y/n, nothing—no one, despite what i've done to you, will ever make me forget how much i love you. there's always a space in my heart for you.” 

you scoff, anger flowing throughout you now, then walk over to her. she stands against the frame of the entrance, you stand in front of her now, looking down slightly. sana's looking at you directly in the eye, you can see the hurt and regret in her eyes; her look brings you back to your senses. 

“how do i know you’re not bluffing? sana, every ounce of me wants to redo this.” your voice cracks slightly, the hurt evident in your tone.  

“you just have to trust me, i'm sorry, i'm really sorry.” 

you feel like curling up into a ball and hiding, the way your chest tightens makes you want to cry a bit. 

- 

the party ends around one in the morning, considering the fact that some of the attendants are adults that don’t have the energy to party until the sunrises.  

jaehyun’s just crossed the line, now slurring his words and laughing stupidly while he gets touchy with the guys, so mark ends up driving him home. johnny catches a ride with seulgi and sooyoung. with them gone, you’re in the basement with momo, mina, dahyun, and tzuyu. all five of you end the night with some recollections of memories, momo’s recent date, mina’s annoying professor, and before you know it you all are hugging goodbye. 

you've already gone through three cans of the smirnoff cans, it hadn’t done much except make you a little more giggly and talkative. you were a little tipsy, that was all. 

throughout the night, tzuyu and dahyun exchange glances, their eyes meeting repeatedly, dahyuns hand rubbing tzuyu’s thigh, and the little smiles they give each other. all of it doesn’t go unnoticed – at least by you – and hints at the potential for something you don’t want to think of in detail once they return home.  

as you observe their subtle interactions, a pang of envy stirs within you, longing for that same allure and anticipation. amidst the swirling emotions, a sense of emptiness creeps in, amplified by the beers you’ve had. you're left to ponder on what’s making you feel hollow, still feeling bad after raising your voice at sana earlier. 

you can’t feel bad, you shouldn’t. whatever you did wasn’t comparable to her practically pretending you didn’t exist for almost two years. 

after rolling your eyes and saying some stupid joke to dahyun and tzuyu – the last to leave the house – you head back to the basement.  

of course, sana had to be sitting on the couch, head turned towards the tv as she sipped on a beer.  

“hey.” you mutter, earning her attention as she turns away from the christmas movie you paused earlier. 

“hi.” sana greets. 

every ounce of anger, irritation, and dread had been squeezed out your body at the sight of her. you genuinely think it’s the alcohol that’s making you rethink everything, making it hard to fight back that voice in your head that’s trying to stay reserved and petty. 

sana sits there, her gaze fixed on you with intensity. her glasses are perched on her nose, a familiar sight whenever she's engrossed in watching tv or anything like that. the sight only adds to her charm, making her look even more adorable. you can't help but notice her favorite cardigan draped over her shoulders – the fluffy, white knit cardigan she adores so much –it's a cherished gift from your mother, and she's held onto it all these years. her eyes bore into yours, drilling into your skull and compelling you to plop down beside her as if nothing had ever transpired between you. you surrender, maybe it’s the late hours of the night, maybe the beer, o rmaybe just sana. 

(it’s probably just sana.) 

she turns back to the movie playing, some stupid romcom jaehyun had put on as background noise. 

your eyes trace the curve of her nose, lingering on her lips and the impeccable contour of her jawline as she remains fixated on the tv screen. her side profile captivates you for a moment, holding you in some sort of spell until she breaks the silence with her soft voice. 

“i think our parents are playing card games in the kitchen.”  

“probably betting money too.” 

“remember when your dad took your christmas money for their game?” sana asks, giggling at the memory. her eyes are still fixed on the screen, you decide to tune into the movie too. “didn’t he lose too?” 

“yeah.” you sigh, sinking into the couch. “he paid me back double the next day though.” 

“so it was worth it?” 

“yeah, i think we went out to eat with that money.” 

sana turns to gaze at you, her eyes tracing the soft contours of your profile in the dimly lit room. the glow from the tv accentuates her favorite features of yours, and she finds herself lost in the sight before her. for a while, she simply stares, allowing the comfortable silence to envelop the moment.  

you turn to look at her now, you two just stare at each other for a while more. 

“maybe we can try again.” you mumble, giving into the beauty in front of you. “every part of me is against the idea.” 

“that’s understandable.” sana agrees. she sighs before adding, “you don’t have to try again.” 

“i know.” you assure, “but i think we should.” 

“i’m sorry.” 

“i know, sana.”  

as the music from the tv fills the room, silence once again settles between you and sana. you know that you can't let this opportunity slip away – it's everything you've wanted, and deep down, you realize it's everything you've needed too.  

there's a mistletoe that’s hung above the two of you, it’s been there the whole time, both of you were aware of it. it dangles from the light tantalizingly, but neither of you do anything about it. neither you or sana even mention it. your mind races to the memory of dahyun and tzuyu kissing each other under it and part of you wants to kiss sana like that, but you won’t let her kiss and make up. 

you reach out, your fingers gently intertwining with hers. you lift her hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of her skin against your own. softly, you press a kiss upon the back of her hand, you linger in the intimacy of the gesture. 

the two of you sit there for a moment, letting the world around you two fade away. 

everything about the moment renders you weak. you think to yourself that maybe, just maybe, a second chance is enough to patch things up. if it’s with sana, then maybe it’s worth it. 

[forever-rogue]

Hi! so i've kinda had the worst past couple of days in a long time and I have a joel request of him just trying to cheer you up in his own grumpy old man way where its not really working but he's trying his best + maybe some Ellie enjoying how shit he is at it. Thank you :)

AN | Joel being soft for reader and only reader 🥰 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Mention of Injury (mild, nondescript but mentions blood)

Word Count | 2.2k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel Miller was a hard man. The years and circumstances had done that to him. Every year, with every little thing that had happened he'd retreated further into himself and became a shadow of himself. 

But then had slowly he'd come more out of his shell, more alive again. He'd never again be the same man from before the Outbreak, but he could be happy again. It was something he'd thought was impossible but he was gradually beginning to believe was obtainable. It had all started with Ellie; he might have been her savior but he was every bit her savior as well. 

And there was you. You had caused him to feel a hundred thousand emotions he thought he'd long buried and forgotten. He just wasn't quite sure how to approach that just yet. But he did what he could and tried to show his affection in his very own Joel way.

Ellie might have teased him about it, but he did his best. Even if you didn't notice, that was okay. He just wanted to make sure you were happy and to put a smile on your face.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But right now there was no smile on your face. You'd gotten to the cafeteria and were on the hunt for some cookies. You were definitely in the midst of some pms and the cravings had hit. All you wanted now was something sweet. Your tummy had decided that it was chocolate chip cookies you were after. 

Unfortunately, there weren't any to be found. You had been positive that Vickie had baked some but they were either nonexistent or already all gone. You snooped around the counter and eventually found an empty tray that had suspiciously cookie-like crumbs on it.

"Animals," you sighed softly. People always descended on sweets first. You should have gone in the morning rather than waiting for the afternoon, "not a single cookie left."

You felt prickling at the back of your eyes, which you knew, realistically, was a dramatic reaction. But hey - hormones were weird and cravings happened.

Joel happened to walk in and noticed you staring dismally at the empty counter. A deep frown was tugging on your features, setting your mouth in a pretty little pout. He loathed seeing you upset. He was at your side in an instant.

"Everything alright?"

"No - yes," you shrugged as you turned to look at him. He still managed to make you weak in the knees despite how often you'd seen him. He was handsome in a roguish way and he'd always been kind to you, "its nothing."

"Don't look like nothin'," of course he wasn't going to let it go. You knew him better than that by now, "you look upset."

"It's noth - it's silly and you're going to laugh at me," your face burned under his intense gaze; you felt so vulnerable.

"Never," and that was a promise.

"I just really wanted some chocolate chip cookies," you confessed, so quietly that he almost wasn't sure he'd heard you. Then you noticed the way the corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile, "I know it's stupid! It's just that I've got pms and it's making me want something sweet. I was looking forward to some cookies."

"Oh," you didn't have your cookies and were upset. By proxy, Joel was now upset. His brows furrowed as a heavy sigh escaped your lips, "I'm sorry they didn't have your cookies. And that you're dealing with your…monthly stuff."

"Yeah," you sighed softly, "me too. But I'll just find something else. Thanks for listening to me complain."

"It ain't complaining," he hesitantly reached over and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. You tried - unsuccessfully - to ignore the tingles that surged through your veins, "I'm sure you'll find something sweet."

"Thanks Joel," you offered him a small smile, "you're very kind."

You brushed past him, giving a last little parting wave as you headed outside. Joel watched you go, a plan already forming in his mind. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was evening before you returned home, deciding that it was time for a hot shower and then into bed with a book. You were starting to feel crummy and hoped this would help. 

But when you got home, you were greeted by a delicious smell that made you stop in your tracks. You hadn't cooked or baked anything…you'd guard went up as you walked into the kitchen.

On the table there was a huge, fresh plate of cookies. You couldn't hold back your squeal of delight as you padded over to them and eagerly grabbed one and stuffed it into your mouth. The idea that it could have been a trap hadn't even crossed your kind. 

There was no note or anything, but you knew exactly who these were from. 

Joel Miller. 

Your heart felt it could burst from sheer happiness. You were going to find later and thank him; this was one of the nicest things anyone had done for you in a long time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been a few weeks since Joel had made you cookies. You still hadn't managed to properly thank him; every time you saw him he appeared to be busy or disappeared within the blink of an eye.

One day you'd do something special for him. 

That day just wasn't going to be today. You were leaving the sheepish enclosure after feeding the small herd, as it was your designated day to do so. You'd been so preoccupied with playing with them that you weren't paying much attention to the closing of the gate. 

Not until you have a piece of rogue wire scrape down your arm. A sound of surprise escaped your lips as you looked at your arm to find it bleeding.

"Oh," you stared at it until you heard a pair of hasty footsteps stop in front of you.

"What happened?" you looked up to find Joel watching you with concern etched all over his face. He reached for your wrist, hesitantly at first but when you didn't flinch away, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and gently pulled your arm towards him, "you're bleeding."

"I scratched my arm," you looked towards the fence, as though realization suddenly dawned on you. You swore that your arm started to hurt even more, "it hurts."

"I know baby, I know," he didn't seem to have a clue as to what he had said but it was definitely not lost on you. You watched him intently, unable to contain the wild thumping of your heart as he looked you over, "let's go and this cleaned up, okay?"

"Okay," you agreed softly, trying to hold back your sniffles, "okay."

He reached for your hand on the opposite arm and tenderly took it in his hand, leading you over to his place. You'd been to his house before on several occasions but something about this felt so different.

Joel was quiet as he took you upstairs to the bathroom, motioning for you to sit on the side of the tub. He made quick work of getting all his supplies together and then patching up your wound. Not that it was much, it probably looked worse than it really was, but you appreciated him nonetheless.

"It might sting a little, okay?" He grabbed the alcohol and started to clean the scratch and you tried not to hiss at the pain but you knew it was written all over your face, "almost done. It'll feel better soon."

You nodded in understanding as he dabbed some ointment onto your arm before wrapping the wound up so it would stay clean. It was over before you knew it and you were almost sad that it was done. That meant his hands weren't going to be on yours anymore. 

He patted your knee when he was done and stood back up. You looked at him with such wide, soft eyes that Joel had struggled to hold back from kissing you. Damn.

"Thank you," your voice was soft and all he could manage in response was a nod of his head. It was then that you had remembered you still had something else to thank him for, "oh! Before I forget - thank you for the cookies. They were delicious."

"H-how did you know it was me?" his cheeks flushed pink as you beamed at him.

"It wasn't hard to put two and two together," you insisted, "I complained about not having cookies and suddenly there's a plate waiting at home? Come on, Joel. You made that almost too easy! But they were also delicious."

"I'm glad you liked them," he whispered softly, "and I'm glad your arm is okay."

"Me too," you smiled up at him, "all thanks to you, Joel Miller."

He couldn't find it within himself to muster up even a single word, too afraid he might spill his innermost secrets. Instead he brushed his knuckles along your cheek ever so gently.

He didn't have to say anything, not really. Everything between the two of you was loud and clear. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hadn't been sick in a long time and realized it wasn't something you missed. When it came around, you were really down and out. 

Like right now. You caught something but from who or what you had no clue. 

You did know however that you felt and looked like absolute garbage and had no energy either. So you did all that you could - stay in bed and rest.

But you were hungry and thirsty but didn't have it within yourself to actually get up to take care of yourself.

When you heard someone knocking at the door all you managed to do was shout in response, "its open!"

A moment passed before the door was actually opened and you heard a pair of tentative footsteps. You listened to their path until they stopped in front of your bedroom.

You rolled onto your back and looked up, finding Joel standing there and holding several bags of supplies. He hated seeing you like this; you hated him seeing you like this too. 

"What're you doing here?" you asked softly as he cleared his throat nervously, "Joel?"

"Maria told me you weren't feeling well," he said gruffly, "I came to take care of you."

"'m sick," you coughed lightly as he grimaced, "don't want you to get sick too."

"I don't care," he insisted in a tone that suggested it was pointless to argue, "I'm here to take care of you. You realize I'm not just leaving, right?"

"Of course I do," you sat up as he hesitantly came over and sat at the edge of your bed, "you're a stubborn man, Joel Miller."

"I've heard that a time or two," he snorted in amusement, "and much, much worse."

"Hmm," you laughed lightly as you leaned against your pillows, "what if you get sick?"

"I won't."

"If you did," you pressed further, "would you let me take care of you?"

He paused for a moment before nodding. He knew that you were just as stubborn as him, "I would."

"Good," you paused for a moment before a serious look crossed your features, "can I ask you something, Joel?"

"Anything," he insisted softly, his voice dropping to a tone that seemed to be reserved just for you.

"You’re always so nice to me,” you tried to ignore the fact that warmth was rising in your face, enough that you were sure you could fry an egg on it, “but…”

“But…” he echoed, reaching over and brushing your hair out of your face before feeling your forehead, “but what?” 

“It’s me,” you waved your hand around, “you’re always like this with me. But not anyone else. I don’t think so anyway.”

“You’re right,” he confirmed, his simple and sure answer coughing your brain to scramble, “the kid keeps saying I’m sweet on you. She’s not wrong.”

“Oh,” you hadn’t quite processed the weight of his words…not until, “oh.”

“Mhmm,” Joel didn’t necessarily have a way with words, but he didn’t need to when his actions spoke so loudly. You smiled at him and he felt like he was the one that was going to melt into a puddle, “have you eaten?”

“No,” you admitted sheepishly, “too tired.”

“Well then,” he stood up, hands on his hips, “I’ll go and make some soup. Okay?”

“Okay,” yeah. You could definitely get used to this. He grabbed the bags with groceries and supplies before turning to head to the kitchen. But you could let him go just yet, “Joel?”

He turned around and raised an eyebrow, “yes?”

“Me too,” you was the only thing you could get out. Judging from the way his face lit up, you knew he knew what you were trying to say. 

“I’ll be back,” he promised, “get some rest in the meantime.”

“Okay.”

[junedenim]

put your heavy metal to the test

part one part two

if you're fucking him, you might as well take advantage of it

warnings: smut, fluff, facefucking, sex toy, piv

word count: 4.8k

It's Elizabeth's birthday on Friday. This means two things: an office party & a drinking party.

"Do you not want me to go?" Alex asks. He's in your kitchen making breakfast. Repeat: he's in your kitchen making breakfast. These things have started to sneak up on you increasingly—this pattern of waking up in his arms and making breakfast on weekends. 

You shrug with your cup of coffee. "You can do whatever you want." That tiptoeing-around habit has continued. There has been no addressing of what this is other than the fact that it's happening and you both want it to happen. 

He chuckles as he butters his near-burnt toast. "I know that. She's your friend and I don't want to overstep on your night out."

"Well." You lean over the counter, your arms prop up your boobs showcasing your cleavage on a full display for his eyes to look directly at. "Who's gonna take me home after a long night?"

Alex raises his eyebrows with a smirk. "You want me to?"

You stand from the barstool and walk over to the sink to empty your cup. "There's plenty of options."

You start to walk to your bedroom when his arms wrap around you tightly. "Who? Gunner?" You try to escape but his grip only grows tighter. You're laughing and it's too much but you decide to enjoy a moment when his touch is friendly and means nothing more than a laugh instead of some goal of pleasure. It's too much and just enough.

*

Elizabeth's birthday cake is a vanilla sheet cake bought by Ed at the grocery store down the street. It looks pretty and tastes shitty but it's the effort that counts and Ed is probably the best boss you've ever had (maybe, second best, but the other one gets disqualified for unfair advantages). 

You're sitting in a little group of people eating a slice of cake when Alex sits next to you with a mouthful of cake. "Got enough there?" You ask him. He sticks his tongue with a dusting of his chewed-up food. "Ew."

"Alex," Elizabeth calls from a few seats over. "You're joining our little party tonight, right?"

He nods, swallowing his piece. "That was the plan."

"Fantastic!" She cheers. "Everyone has to buy me a drink, well, unless you got a present for me. Your present is a drink for me."

"Okay."

With the group distracted and returning to their conversation, you lean over and whisper to Alex, "Or you could go halvesies on my gift?"

He looks over, all serene. You don't understand how he doesn't stare at himself in the mirror all day like Narcissus. "Are we at the stage in our relationship where we're gifting things as a couple?"

You giggle softly, covering your mouth. "Elizabeth would rip my hair out if that happened."

"Why?" 

"Because she's in love with you."

His jaw becomes slightly agape. "What?"

You stare at him, searching for a sign of trickery. "You can not be that clueless. You're pulling my leg."

He shakes his head.

"Seriously? She stares at you all the time."

"Well, my eyes are busy elsewhere." His browns stare clearly at you.

You roll your eyes. "She's been into you since before all our stuff."

"My eyes have been busy since before all our stuff."

You laugh. "You're full of shit."

He turns away and looks at the last crumbs of his slice of cake. "Maybe you're the clueless one. Did you ever think that?"

You point your plastic fork at him. "No, because you're lying."

"I'm an honest man." He sighs and stands with an empty plate. "Happy birthday, Elizabeth. I'll see you later tonight."

"You're leaving already?" She frowns. "Come on, Ed gave us an extended break for a reason."

Alex waves her off. "I have to work on some things with Ed. I'm lucky he gave me long enough of a break to eat a slice of cake."

"He works you too hard."

"Yeah, well, I like it. Have a good one, you guys." You've learned that Alex works too much. You told him you think he's going to have a heart attack one day for the emphasis he places on work in his life. He told you he doesn't know how to function without it. You told him that sounded sad and he should find ways to relieve that stress. Then, he fucked you and said that was his stress relief. And you said that was good enough.

*

He sits next to you at the bar, which should be suspicious to your co-workers but no questionable looks are shot in your direction. He's smooth in every way. He shaved this morning and he moves in such a way that you can only call smooth. He moves his hands smooth. He talks smooth. He kisses smooth.

When he put his lips on you outside the bar you could have slapped him because he tempts fate too much and you swear he is trying to get you both fired. But he molds himself to you, shoves his hand into the curve of your back, and doesn't let go for a second. He smiled when he pulled away and you couldn't do anything to that poor face of his. So lovely to look at and so loving in return. He's becoming too sweet and anyone who squinted could see the truth. His thigh rubbing up against yours and you laughing too hard at his dumb jokes but they keep hushed and you hope it stays that way (at least for now).

Elizabeth is double-fisting drinks and she sips one and then the other. You're drinking but you don't want to get drunk because you want to end the night cognizant with Alex. Elizabeth has other ideas...

"Chug your beer with me. Come on! Come on!" She urges. 

You wave her off. "I'm good. But I'll watch you."

She whines. "No fun! Alex!" She grabs a hold of his hand from across the table. "You drink with me. Come on! Come on!"

Alex chuckles, amused by the display. He pats her hand and then pulls away, wrapping his hand around his cold glass, caressing it with such care you're jealous of it. "I'm the kind of guy who likes to savour his drinks."

"Boo! No fun you two!" She slurs. Being referred to in a pair gives you tingles. A thing in which you wish to be shoved away through the numbness of alcohol. Feeling it in private is one thing but suffocated in a crowd of people you feel as if your skin could fall off. That you're exposed and they can see right through you with their feelings X-ray scanner. Maybe you're just paranoid.

Elizabeth leans forward, completely intoxicated with liquor and infatuation. "So, Alex, I've heard about this big project you have. I'll admit I'm jealous I don't get to work on it." She's jealous of you for working with him...she's going to kill you if she ever finds out.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announce.

"Okay!" Elizabeth says, all happy and perky for alone time with Alex. 

Should you feel jealous? Probably not, you've always been told jealousy isn't a good emotion. It's weird. You feel an obligation to be jealous but you aren't. Maybe it's because you and Alex are just fooling around in a highly sophisticated we-aren't-going-to-do-this-with-anybody-else-except-each-other-but-we-are-totally-not-a-couple kind of way. Maybe because you know he won't do anything. Elizabeth has been throwing yourself at Alex since she started working here and nothing has come of it. What's the difference now? He's so blase toward anything that it's obvious when he is interested in something.

Like when he walks into the women's restroom.

"What are you doing here?" You're washing your hands and he's by the door, chest pumped out and so heroic-looking with a smolder you could laugh.

"I thought we were..." He gestures between the two of you.

"We were?" You implore him to finish as you wipe your hands clean. 

His head drops. 

You laugh. "No, I actually did just have to go to the bathroom."

"Well, since I'm here..." Alex trails off for you to get the idea again.

You finish, "Fuck you? No, not really."

"Okay," he accepts. He looks around examining the stalls and sinks as you watch on. "Do you want to leave now and go do it?"

"And have everyone watch us leave together? No thanks." You say as you toss the paper towel.

"We've done it before." He's moving forward suggestively and you'd take a step back if you weren't so into it. Into him.

You move past him, brushing shoulders like it's the greatest romance, something Austenian. "And we won't be repeating." 

He moves backward, blocking your exit. "Fine. I'll leave saying I'm loaded with work and in a half hour, you'll say you have a headache and then you'll come to my place."

"I don't want to go to your place," you whine. You're being difficult but your place is closer to here and the drive home from Alex's is always annoying it almost makes you want to stay there forever (solely for driving purposes, nothing else).

"Then, we'll go to your place."

"But if you leave first you'll need a key."

"Then you go first."

"I don't want to leave yet."

"Then I'll use the key in the potted plant." A key you put there for Alex because nobody else visits enough to warrant a spare key.

"So, you're just going to mess about in my flat for 30 minutes."

He shrugs with his hands on his hips. "I'll find something to do."

You squint. "You're gonna snoop."

"You have no faith in me."

"Well, I know what I would do if you left me alone in your place for 30 minutes."

He laughs. "You wouldn't find much." His place generally carries a stark bareness to it.

"I'd find something. Everyone hides something."

"What do you hide?"

You roll your eyes. "You'll have no fun in your snooping if I tell you what I'm hiding."

He raises his eyebrows. "So, you want me to snoop?"

"I want to get out of this bathroom but you're trapping me in here. You're lucky no one has walked in."

"I'm a very lucky guy. You should know this." 

Something in his eyes makes flutter and an uncontrollable smile covers your face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs with a wide grin on his face and steps out of the way of the door. His face is endlessly endearing and you could leave if your body would let you but it would be a crime to leave without a simple kiss. 

You hold his left cheek, so smooth. You peck his lips. Twice, for a good measure. That grin is still irreplaceable and wider than ever. "Have fun putting your tampon in."

He just gives a light slap to your ass and lets you go. For now.

*

"I have a wicked headache." You place to palm of your hand on your forehead, cringing your eyes.

Alex chuckles on the other side of the opened door. It's weird having him open your flat's door. He claps his hands together. "Stellar acting. Destined for the stage."

You bow dramatically. "Thank you."

He opens the door more, letting you pass. You toss your purse on the couch, then your body. "It took some convincing. She nearly shoved two Advils down my throat before I was able to leave."

Alex sits beside you. "What about me? I thought my clothes were gonna have claw marks on them."

"Well," you sigh, "don't flatter yourself too much. She was all over Ben when I left."

He snaps his fingers. "Shucks."

You sniffle. "What's that smell?"

"I made dinner."

"You made me dinner?"

"I made me dinner. You came back earlier than I thought you would."

You're quick to grab your purse and smack him with it. He grabs your wrist, then your hips, guiding you to straddle him. You sit on top of him. You can feel him. His every move. Your hands lying on his shoulders. His light touch on your elbows. He kisses your hand and it feels like a holy blessing. Like you're the Pope and he's kissing your ring. 

"Did you snoop?"

"I snooped."

"And?"

"You're boring." You erupt with laughter, laying your head on his shoulder. "I didn't look too hard anyway. I didn't want to invade your space."

"It's fine. I invited you to." But you don't mind how caring he is. How gentle he is as his fingertips brush down your clothed spine.

"Okay. I guess that helps because I did find your vibrator."

You hit his chest with your hands. "Ew. Don't talk about that."

"You told me to snoop!"

"Whatever. It's a common thing. Every girl has one in their drawer. We have to use it because guys never get the job done," you reason.

Alex brags, "I get the job done."

"Don't be cocky. I could be faking it."

"Okay," he easily accepts. Maybe because it isn't believable in the slightest. 

"You're being cunning. If you think we're going to do some sex thing with it you're out of luck because it's out of batteries."

"Oh, so if it's out of batteries then how are you able to use it after you're done with me."

You pull away from him, standing up, your heels clunking on the floor. "Stop it! That is a personal item. I don't talk to you about your sex toys."

"Mine's just my hand and I'm not really using it much as of late."

You cross your arms. "So, I'm your sex toy. I should be paid."

He raises his eyebrows. "You want to be my prostitute?"

You think about it. "Fair point. Pay me with dinner."

"They're your ingredients anyway."

You shake your head. "No, I mean, take me out to dinner."

"Now?"

"No!" You giggle. "Like this weekend or something. On a date," you clarify. You've slept with the guy. Why are you nervous about a date? 

Alex nods and gives you a crooked smile. "Okay."

"You're being cunning again."

"Fuck yeah. You've been blue balling me all night."

You purse your lips. "You haven't exactly returned the favour."

"You have your vibrator for that."

"Oh, okay, sure. I'll just grab some batteries." You make a point, marching over to grab your TV remote and popping it out. He follows you to your bedroom where you stuff them into your vibrator. You turn around, staring at him standing at the edge of your bed. "If you don't mind, we'd like some time alone."

He toots a laugh. "Nice try. Now put the vibrator down and let me fuck you."

"But the vibrator hits me just right," you taunt, all pouty and flirty.

His steps are controlled but powerful. You can feel his shoes thud on the floor and his gaze is controlling like he's mind-controlling you to put the vibrator down. Your grip stays steady even as his hand rounds your back and pulls you closer and closer until his lips are on you. 

"Your vibrator do this?" He teases. Your boobs are pressed against his chest and his hand is pushing your head closer to his, keeping you in a kiss. 

"They're very advanced these days," you mutter against his lips. 

He's kissing you tight and harder. Your knees buckle against your bed as you fall back onto the bed. In some chaos of tugging on clothes before pulling them fully off, Alex takes the vibrator out of your hand. He's kissing you again, distracting you. Your hand travels down the space in between your bodies and you're reaching out, rubbing your hand against his cock.

"How badly do you want me in your mouth?"

"You're presumptuous," you joke.

But he's clearly not in a joking mood as he stops your hand from moving around him. He reiterates, "How bad do you want it?" 

"Badly," you tell him. 

You can tell Alex wants to tease you more, but he's getting too worked up for verbal foreplay, so he stands up, tugging your head along with him. He grabs you by the throat and pulls you closer, so your head is dangling upside down off the bed, and then roughly shoves his cock down your throat.

"There you go," he taunts, thrusting into your mouth with brutal force. It only takes three hits to the back of her throat for you to gag on his cock, choking on its thickness. He pulls back just long enough for you to catch a breath before he pushes back in. "You fucking love it, don't you?"

You gurgle around him, trying to breathe through your nose as the pace of his pumps picks up. You do love it and wish you didn't have a gag reflex, so you could take all of him without needing a break, but he told you once before he loves it when you choke on him. 

He slows his thrusts down a bit and leans forward, palming your breasts. He plays with your nipples knowing how much you love when he does that, especially when you're in a position like this. Your squeak of surprise is muffled by his cock before it turns into moans of pleasure when he grabs a tit, roughly massaging it with his callused hands. He starts to pick up his rhythm again. Your body jerks at the action and he makes sure to shove down extra hard in response. After a few minutes of toying with your tits, his hand travels further down, running a finger through you. "Look at you, so wet for my cock already. You want it so badly, I can't believe you didn't fuck me in the bathroom. You love doing that shit, dirty girl."

You can't get any words out, but you jerk your hips up, trying to get his fingers to press harder or go into you or just do something. You're wet and aching for him. He lets his fingers slip through you a few times, making sure to avoid your clit, before he pulls away from her completely. Without thinking, you bring your hand to your pussy to replace his, but he immediately slaps it away.

Alex asks, "You want me to leave?" You shake your head. "Then, don't play with yourself."

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before turning you around. He climbs up onto the bed and urges your legs apart so he can kneel between them. The heel of his hand presses against your clit as his fingers slip through you, finding your entrance and pushing two fingers into you with ease. 

He fingers you for a few moments before leaving you empty. He positions you properly and lines himself up before plunging into you.

"Jesus," he grunts. He stays inside of you for a moment to gather himself, before he pulls out and slams back into you once, twice, three times, until he's started a steady rhythm of pumps. He pushes on his toes, bending you further, giving him an even steeper angle to pound into you. He stretches, his thighs slapping against her ass loudly with each hit, before it's too much of a strain on his muscles to fuck you at this angle. 

He stops and palms your ass cheeks and brings you closer to him. You hear the buzz and can't help but roll your eyes even if you're begging for any pleasure. "Seriously?"

"You want me to stop?" He's playing with you. Dangling a carrot in front of your face and yanking it away in an instant. You're not going to tempt fate.

"No," you answer, trying to rock against him, desperately wanting him to start up again.

He presses the toy against you and you have a hard time holding yourself up. Your arms bucking and taking your face down to laying against a pillow. He bends a little at the knees so his cock is level with your cunt, and then shoves his length into you again until they meet with a smack. He squeezes your ass cheeks roughly before sliding them down your lower back, pulling your body closer to meet every one of his thrusts with as much force as possible. 

"Oh, oh fuck," you whimper, you start to clench around him as he holds the vibrator on your clit and bucks into you. You're impressed by his ability to do both at the same time while you can't even hold yourself up. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

"Come on my cock," he tells you, his hips becoming frantic as he gets closer as well. "You fucking come on my cock. Then, I'm coming in you."

It's all you need to hear before you let go, letting your orgasm hit you in waves. You shake against him. He is still pounding into you through it, and holding the vibrator intensely onto you. Just as you start to come down, you feel him swell against the vice grip you have on him, before he lets go too, spilling into you.

His head falls into the slope of your back but he holds steady with the vibrator on you until you whack at his hand. "Too much," you cry. He looks tempted to push back but he shuts the device off before collapsing onto his back on the side of the bed that is looking more and more like his side of the bed. 

You fall on your stomach. Both of you just lie there in thought, trying to find something that will ease the shaking of your thighs and Alex's shallow breathing. "Fuck," you hear him mumble.

You make a sound in agreement but can't figure out how to do more. You feel as though you've been rewired. You feel his touch on your arm before he yanks you over into his arms. You groan, already feeling sore.

He kisses your temple before he gets up from the bed and disappears into the bathroom, returning with a towel. Loving and tender after rough and unforgiving.

*

It's late and you're in his arms and you feel as delicate as you ever have and feel like you can say anything and he would still hold you in his arms. "I think you should present the project on Monday," he tells you.

You pull your head back. "What?"

"It's really your project. I only supervised and, god knows, Jeff did nothing. It's your thing and I don't think I could—anyone could—explain the project as well as you do."

"That's a big thing."

"I'll practice with you."

"But to present to corporate and all of them. Isn't it out of character for someone like me to do that?"

"Ben has done it before." Ben is higher up than you so it's not exactly an equal comparison. 

You lift your head up to look him in his eyes and directly ask, "Are you doing this—"

He closes his eyes and tosses his head to the side. "God, don't even say that. That's two steps away from me trading sex for raises."

"Sorry."

"It's fine but it has nothing to do with that. You're brilliant," he says so earnestly you almost believe it.

"Sure," you say doubtfully.

He shakes his head and tugs you closer. "You'll see. You're the smartest person I've ever met."

You laugh. "You don't have to bullshit me now."

"No bullshitting. All those guys, Ed, corporate are a bunch of showoffs but you. You're like smart smart. Booksmart, streetsmart, emotionally intelligent. We're a bag of nothing."

"You're the smartest person I've ever met. No bullshit."

"I don't believe you."

"That's fine. That doesn't mean it isn't true."

*

On Monday morning, he kisses you in the middle of the breakroom. It's the closest you've come to nearly exposing whatever this is. It's much more risky than his office and a crowded city street. "Too much, Al," you tell him.

"I'm proud of you," he says. His thumb rubs against the corner of your lips, removing the kiss dribble. "Aren't I allowed to be proud of you?"

"You kiss everyone you're proud of?"

"Yeah, why do you think Ed and I take so long after meetings?"

"Ew!" You push him away from you, sharing a laugh between you.

The breakroom door swings open and Elizabeth walks in. It's alarming how unwilling you both are to move away from each other but she's distracted by her own cheer. "How'd it go?" She exclaims.

"Oh, yeah, she was perfect," Alex boasts, leaning against a counter.

Elizabeth claps her hands. "Did we ever have any doubts?"

"No, never," he says sincerely. You make eye contact with him and he stands up straight. "Well, I should go."

"No rest for the wicked, huh?" Elizabeth says.

"Yeah."

When he leaves she turns to you with a smile. "You better get me on the next project. God, I wish he'd talk about me that way." She's dreamy. A schoolgirl gazing onward at her teacher with her immature crush. You don't feel guilty about you and Alex but you feel shame from hiding it from her as if you're leading her on in some kind of way. But she seems to have accepted the idea of her and Alex as a fantasy. There's doubt she'll accept Alex being a reality for you.

*

You go into his office later and he's quick to attack. His lips are on you and his hands are heavy on your back. "How fucking good were you?"

You push him back. "You've mentioned it before." Alex exchanges hasty, uncoordinated kisses with you. 

"Want me to fuck you?"

"Not here."

Alex whines, you've never heard him do that before. "Quick."

You laugh. "After my stellar performance, you want me to get caught sucking off my boss?"

He seems to think about it for a moment before nodding. "You have a point."

Your arms curl around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you whisper in his ear, "I'll fuck you at my place. We'll fuck the whole night."

"Yeah?"

You pull back with a head nod and a lip bite. "Yeah."

"That reminds me I have your spare key." He moves to pull it out from his bag.

You hold your hand up. "Keep it." He's there half the week. The other half you're at his. You're fucked.

"Keep it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

*

You don't go back to your place first. He takes you to dinner first. It's nothing fancy but it's a nice enough place that doesn't need a reservation. You drink nice wine and talk about nothing in particular but none of it has to do with work. In some ways, it feels like a first date if you didn't already know so much about him; what moves him, what makes him laugh, what makes him tick. At the same time, you know so little; where he's from, why is he in this business, what hurts him. You suppose it's the same for him with you. 

You don't talk about those things. Too heavy for a first date and whatever else you are. You end up in the back of his car with the rain pelting down. You're under him, pushing off layers and wrapping yourself around him, mouth on his Adam’s apple like you mean to take a bite of it. Alex pushes the skirt of your dress up. It’s a messy thing, hasty, a necessity. You make these sounds, hitched gasps and keening moans, rolling your hips up to match the beat of whatever tune his making with the rhythm of his hips. 

You press a light kiss on the soft skin underneath his lips, and push his hand down further, placing his fingers on top of your core. You hiss from the coldness of his hands.

His cock moves in and out of you. It's slower than usual. You're unsure if it's from the tight setting you're in or the moment you're stuck in. It's more romantic than usual, even if you're stuffed into a tiny backseat. 

Alex is leaning over and pulling you, and covering your mouth with his, his soft lips swallowing your moan. You kiss softly for a few moments. He breaks, letting out, "Fuck." 

Finding the angle a bit difficult, he grabs your hips tilting them up more so he can drive into you better. He leans over you and connects your mouths, swallowing each other's moans again.

Your hands thread through his soft hair, massaging his scalp before they drop down to his back, your fingertips trailing delicately along his sweaty skin. You love feeling the muscles in Alex's back straining as he fucks you, the way they tense each time he thrusts his cock deep inside you, hitting you just where you need it, pulling him just where he needs it. Your chests are flush together. You can feel each other's hearts pounding, the redness in your skins turning to fire.

He smiles into your kiss as you hook your legs around him, digging your heels into his ass and pulling him deeper into you each time he barrels down. He can never seem to go deep enough, always wanting more, more, more.

He picks up his pace as he watches you, his hips rocking into you as you both edge closer and closer. "I'm so close," he moans, releasing your lip and opening his eyes to find yours. 

"Come for me," you urge.

You buck up into him, desperate to come but even more desperate for him to come. "Oh fuck," he cries out. His thrusts start to get jerky as you tighten around his cock.

He only lasts a few more thrusts before he lets go inside you, something habitual now. He moans as he empties himself, feeling you wrap your legs around his waist and lock him in place as he continues to spill. 

You feel yourself come undone and it's uncontrollable as you hold tight onto him, wanting to do everything possible to keep him close. "Fuck," he lets out like a statement. With a chuckle, he tells you, "We couldn't even make it back to your fucking flat."

*

a/n: so, i think this is a series now because i have like two ideas for two more parts so if you guys want it i'll do it. thanks!

[hongjoongspoetry]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Part 3 – You Know You're On My Mind

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

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

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

⛸️ Wordcount: 16.6K

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

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

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Click on me!

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

December 9th, 2024. 

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

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

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

“Do girls like flowers?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.”

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

“Is this about that figure skating girl?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No more throwing shirts!”

“Up we go, Kyo.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you only invite Hyunjin?”

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

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

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

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

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

If Mingi showed up, great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “I don’t know.”

“You want me to come with?”

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

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

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

“I guess…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All my friends are going to be there.”

“Nice friends you have.”

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

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

“You’ll come?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

“I’m Chaeryeong’s mom.”

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

“Are those for your girlfriend?”

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

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

“Oh, when is she up?”

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

“She’s last.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, son.”

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

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

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

“Welcoming our last performer of the night…”

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

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

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

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

It was beautiful. You were beautiful. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m still proud of you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You good there, princess?”

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

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

Why wasn’t he there?

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

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

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

Figure skating was the last thing you needed right now.

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

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

“Really?” 

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

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

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

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

“Wh-what!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“What’s wrong, bean?”

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

“Nothing, everything is perfectly fine.” 

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

“Mmmm.” 

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

“You still going to that game?”

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

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

“Yup.”

“Cool. Cool.”

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

“Now?”

“Yes, Dasom. Now.”

“Hmmm, it’s currently seven-thirty.”

“It’s seven-thirty!?”

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

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

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

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

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

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

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

“Want me to call Kyo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was everything but your scenery. 

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

“Boo!”

“Don’t do that!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow… This is really annoying. We’re only ten minutes into the first period and we’ve already received two points,” Jungkook fumed.

It was weird that neither Mingi or Jungkook were a part of the starting lineup, considering they were up against one of the better teams of the season. Trusting that their coach was making the right decision of keeping them off the ice, Mingi didn’t try persuading him to be put in. There were still two and a half periods left of the game, leaving plenty of time for Mingi to change the course of the match if needed to. It also gave him more time to keep an eye on you and simmer in his own rage, if he just hadn’t lost you in the three seconds he looked away. Frantically searching the bleachers for a girl with a blue scarf wrapped around her neck, you were nowhere to be seen.

“Song!”

The abrupt call of his name snapped him out of his search and he was met with the beetroot red face of his coach. 

“Are you deaf?!”

“Nu-uh. No, sir!”

“Then get off your ass, you’re going in.” As Mingi stood up, his coach threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in closer. “Remember what we talked about. There are scouts watching and they’ve heard great things about this Song Mingi, so show them you’re not all talk, yeah?”

Mingi pushed in his mouth guard and nodded determinedly.

Coach patted him encouragingly and gave one last pat on his helmet for luck.

“Good, get in there and put a stop to their number three.”  

Everything turned to background noise as Mingi leaped over the board and his blades slashed against the cool surface. There was only him and his defending zone, and the fact that you were somewhere in the crowd, probably watching him or getting cozy with that stupid figure skater. The grip around his hockey stick tightened at the image and he hated the effect you still had on him. He should’ve been worrying about being on top of his game and impressing the scouts, and not what you were up to.

Mingi and Matthew held the blue line and passed the puck between each other as the remaining blue players skated around in the offensive zone, searching for an opening to get the puck handed to them. As Mingi slid the puck to Matthew, the bigger defender quickly hurled it to the next player only for the pass to be cut off. 

Going backwards, Mingi immediately retreated home while putting pressure on the puck carrier and simultaneously keeping him from having a clear view of the net. He skillfully managed to push the opposing player (without physical contact) to the side in the defensive zone. He quickly realized that he was closed off and sent the puck diagonally backwards to another red player who moved with such speed, Mingi knew he wouldn't be able to stop the additional player in time. Protests erupted from the bench as all fourteen substitute players had a hunch of what was going to happen.

To his aid came Matthew and the two defensemen managed to shut down a possible counterattack. As the remaining players entered the defending zone, the puck was still in the possession of the red team. It landed in the hold of their number three, who was a few diagonal meters from Mingi. The winger locked gazes with the blue defender and sent him a smug smirk, tauntingly saying ‘watch this’ as he winded his hockey stick up to his shoulder and readied himself for a slapshot.

Losing all control of his body, Mingi changed the trajectory of his movements and skated almost backwards while getting in number three’s sight of line. Mingi waited for the perfect timing and when the red player rushed forward to skate past him, Mingi jutted out his hip, flipping the opponent over him and stealing the puck in the process. Cheers erupted in the arena and Mingi soared at the jumbled praises and roars of encouragement.

“This is Felix and that’s Changbin, they attend TOP University. Lix-ie, Bin-ie, this is the friend I’ve been telling you about,” Hyunjin introduced you as the crowd calmed down.

The two guys weren’t dressed in anything over the top, basic hoodies and joggers or a pair of jeans with small accessories showing their support for the Red Tigers which made you feel out of place with Keeho’s blue scarf wrapped around your neck. You recognized one of them as the guy who hosted that halloween party; buffy build, a triangle shaped head, but kind features.  

“Hey.” 

The deep voice that greeted you didn’t match the sunshine-face of the other boy beside Changbin. A sprinkle of freckles covered his nose and cheeks, his eyes crinkling as he offered you a sun-like smile that matched the color of his hair.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” you gently said and sat in the spot beside the sunshine-boy.

“It’s great to finally see the girl this one’s been obsessing about,” Changbin butted in with a teasing grin and earned himself a slap on the thigh by Felix.

“Just ignore him, he loves to tease.”

“Ah, that’s okay. I know banter when I hear it,” you smiled reassuringly and looked at the game below. 

One would think that because ice was your dome, you’d easily understand other winter sports, but you were truly having trouble keeping up with whatever was going on in the newly polished rink. The puck was traveling a hundred miles an hour and the skaters were freakishly fast, you could barely keep up with who was attacking and who was defending. It seemed like the moment one team scored, the other was immediately taking back a point. On top of all, you had zero knowledge about the rules. To say you were surprised when a — what looked to be dangerous and illegal — tackle occurred, would be an understatement. You expected at least someone to jump out of sheer anger, but no one batted an eye. They just kept watching and the players resumed as if it were the most normal thing of the day.

“Do you want to die?” Chan growled as he bumped shoulders with Mingi, getting all up in the defenseman’s face.

The chants of the Blue Wolves’ fans sent another surge of adrenaline through Mingi’s veins, not that he needed it, but gave him an ego boost to return the cockiness to the max.

“I should be asking you that. Don’t think you can get past us just like that. I’ll shut you down, Chan-hyung.”

In any other circumstance and in a conversation with quite literally anyone else, the use of honorific wouldn’t have been out of place, but hearing it come from Mingi wasn’t an indication of respect. It was a ploy to humiliate him and a way to set the tone of the game. In other words, telling him not to expect an easy win. Chan didn’t think anything less.

“I’d like to see you try.”

Mingi scoffed, a smirk of triumph playing across his lips. “I already did and guess what, hyung. I’ll do it again and again, and again. You will not get past me. I’ll knock you down until your ass makes a dent on the ice.”

Returning the ever-so-kind favor of butting shoulders, Mingi pushed past him and stopped right behind his center, ready to receive the puck or defend if the odds played out in the red team’s favor.

“I’m sorry about what happened at the preliminaries,” Felix smiled empathically and placed a hand on your shoulder for support. “If it makes you feel better, I thought you were perfect and deserved to win.” 

You forced a smile at the reminder of the event. The wound was still fresh and even though Felix didn’t have any ill intentions with bringing it up, it still didn’t spare you from the bitter taste of winning — if it could even be considered a victory — second place.

“Thank you, but the jury is rarely ever wrong.”

“Tell me about it,” he started and focused momentarily on the game again. “It still doesn’t change my opinion on who should’ve won though.”

Before you could thank him again and express your gratitude to his kindness, Hyunjin joined the conversation. “Oh, I see you’ve found yourself a new figure skating partner.” 

Glancing from Felix to Hyunjin and back to Felix again, you pointed at the freckled boy. “You’re a figure skater too?”

“Yup, I've been training with Jin-ie since elementary school. A tick would be easier to shake off than him.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, everyone practically begged you to sit beside them but no, little Lixie the new student decided it would be best to annoy Hyunjin-ie in the back.” 

With a witty remark waiting on the tip of his tongue, Felix parted his lips, but was interrupted by Changbin abruptly standing up, hands clasped around his mouth and shouting, “Come on Chan! Don’t let him get away with that!”

Glancing down at the rink, you noticed number three in the red team was pushed against the border with a blue guy towering over him. Both guys seemed to be communicating through their eyes and if it weren’t for their teammates getting in between, you were sure a full on fist fight would’ve taken place in front of everyone.

“You’d think Chan was his boyfriend and not mine,” Felix said to you — more so screamed over the loud cheers and hollers of distress — and watched an agitated Changbin slump back down in his seat, eyes following the flying puck kissing the net of the red goalkeeper.

“Boyfriend?” 

“Ah, right, of course Hyunjin wouldn’t talk about his friends. Anyways I’m dating number three in the red team, maybe you’ve heard of him. Bang Chan or Christopher, whatever seems fitting.”

Your mouth turned into an ‘o’ as the puzzle pieces clasped together. Felix never stopped smiling and even chuckled at your reaction. He found you endearing and understood why Hyunjin wouldn’t stop talking about you during their study sessions. 

“I take it, you know him?”

“Mmmm, I wouldn’t say I know him but we had a brief encounter at a halloween party.”

“Ah, that’s cool. The world is really small, isn’t it?”

The buzzer beat you to an answer, indicating that the twenty minutes of the second period were out. 

“Oh, and that’s halftime,” Felix said and stood up to stretch. 

Changbin shot him a deadly stare, as if the figure skater cursed out his entire family. “You know it’s not called that. It’s an intermission!”

“Eh, we don’t keep up with all that in Australia. Halftime is halftime in whatever sport you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were Australian,” you admitted.

“What, really?” He said in English and then switched back to Korean. “All the people I meet point out I speak with an accent so I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, now that you’ve said it I can actually hear like the faintest accent. Oh, that’s embarrassing of me.” You sheepishly smiled and scratched the back of your head.

“Nah, not really. Anyway, Bin-ie and I are gonna get some snacks, you guys want anything?”

“I’m alright, thank you though.”

Felix threw you a thumbs up and looked at Hyunjin for his reply.

“Yeah, surprise me with something good.”

“Gotcha! We’ll be back like a lil’ before they start if we don’t get held up by the bathrooms. Changbin sure does love to take his time there.”

As the duo followed the crowd out, you and Hyunjin fell into a comfortable silence and listened to the chatter of the people around you. For being your first time at a hockey game, you weren’t bored at all, despite being oblivious to the set of rules. Keeho did say something about fights being legal and you sincerely hoped to avoid that. The sport on ice you were aware of was so less violent, flashy and fast paced. It was so different from your figure skating which was more or less art or a story being conveyed by body language. 

Nonetheless, you were still having a good time, even though much of it was spent getting acquainted with Hyunjin’s friends.

“So… what do you think of the game so far?”

Snapping from the ice taken over by a bunch of kids chasing each other and falling on their rears, you hummed and looked back at Hyunjin who already had his eyes on you.

“It’s interesting. I mean, it’s nothing like figure skating, obviously, but it’s cool… Do you guys always do this? Watch hockey?”

“Mmm, not always, but whenever Chan has a game we try to show our support just like he does whenever Lix or I have anything going on with our figure skating.”

“That’s sweet of you. That’s actually really cute,” you gushed and the thought reminded you of your own friend group. How Keeho and Dasom showed up at your competitions or the many times you and Keeho attended Dasom’s poetry slam.

Hyunjin leaned closer to you, a playful smile across his features. “I don’t like being called cute, but considering it’s coming from you I’ll let it slide.”

Taken back by the almost flirtatious side of Hyunjin, you bashfully looked away and cheekily covered your mouth, hiding the way your smile expanded at his comment. Hyunjin, attentive as always, took notice of the action and chuckled.

“How, uhm…” 

You leaned back in your seat and braided your fingers together as the change of topic went from cheerful to sullen.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of those two, but yeah… How you holding up?”

Still trying to hold up your happy expression, you faced him and tilted your head, and Hyunjin had to physically hold back from planting a kiss on your cute nose. 

“I’ve been alright. There’s not much I can do to be honest and I don’t want to dwell on it more than necessary, you know?”

“That’s understandable. Why think about the things that make you feel bad?”

“Exactly. I’ve decided to focus on the more happier things in life.” You grimaced as a hockey player tripped and smacked head first into the plastic glass. “Even if that is watching people get concussions for just 13.000 won.”

Hyunjin burst out laughing, elegantly covering his mouth with the back of his hand and tipping his head backwards. A laugh of your own lingered with his and the multiple cheers in the air. 

“Three for three, Jeon Jungkook does it again! The nimble winger of the Blue Wolves can’t be stopped!” 

The announcement sounded through the arena a few seconds after the red lights flashed behind the Tiger’s goal and buzzer erupted, nearly rupturing your eardrums. Jungkook was really on a blast tonight, you thought as you followed his retreating figure, making a mental note of remembering his jersey number. Although you had yet to find Mingi, you felt proud for at least figuring out Jungkook and Chan, completely dismissing the fact that you barely knew a handful of players on the ice.

“You’re doing great out there, Kookie.” Mingi dunked him on the back as they retreated to the neutral zone. “Make that into five out of five and I’ll treat you to some lamb skewers.”

The smirk stretched across Jungkook’s face could only be described as menacingly and with  him in his element, Mingi knew they weren’t going to go down without a fight. 

“Add steamed dumplings into the mix and I’ll double it.”

As the referee held the puck in the air between the red and blue centers, the rest of the players prepared themselves for another brawl over who put the puck behind the opposing net. Mingi was warm all over, and the extra weight of pads and equipment was taking a toll on his body, as well as defending his home base, but each time a player was stopped, the pride was enough to resurrect his energy. Glancing slightly to the side, everything moved in slow motion as he briefly made eye contact with the supporters of both teams. Some were screaming at him out of happiness and others with harmless distaste, angry at his ability to shut down the reds’ plays and advances. Moving further up the rows, it was like a headlight lit up a spot in the crowd, and suddenly, amongst the hundreds of people, he could make you out like a tulip in the middle of a meadow.

The hold around his stick tightened seeing you squished between pretty boy and an unrecognizable face, and Mingi promised he didn’t care. He didn’t care as pretty boy whispered something in your ear and he definitely didn’t care as you flung your head backward, and let out what probably was the most angelic laughter known to heaven. Smoke erupted from his nostrils and the moment the puck was in possession of the red team, the vibrant colored jerseys irked him like a matador irritatnig a bull. As the puck was in play, all sound ceased to exist and Mingi zeroed in on the players advancing forward. 

Mingi would describe it as being underwater with all the noise distant and his movement sluggish no matter how hard he tried to lift his limbs, and if  he wasn’t so aware of his surroundings, Mingi would certainly think he was losing one of his five senses. 

See, although ice hockey was a sport all about seeing and physical contact, hearing was an important part too and if Mingi wasn’t revolted by your presence, he wouldn’t have missed the referee signaling an offside, and he wouldn’t have skated into the first player daring to cross the blue line that separated the defending and neutral zone.

The referee immediately blew his whistle and fully extended his right arm, fist clenched and eyes set on the defenseman, and time turned back to normal as a pop-like sound burst in Mingi’s ears. He barely managed to realize what happened when another body collide against his, pushing him straight into the boards. Chaous ensued as multiple players got involved trying to easen the situation, but the damage was already done and Mingi was sent to the penalty box — purposely avoiding the heavy gazes of the blue bench — along with whichever guy flew into him.

He cursed out loud as he slumped down on the bench. This was embarrassing on so many levels. It was one thing to ram into someone as payback, but lashing out for no apparent reason and after the whistle was (almost) unacceptable. He wanted to laugh at his stupidity; so much for not caring. 

“What happened?” You asked no one in particular, surprised at the sudden turn of events.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Ah, that Song Mingi, always up to no good,” Changbin grumbled, more so to himself than you. 

You snapped your eyes to the plastic enclosure the blue player was sent off to and sunk your teeth into your bottom lip. Through the year you had known Mingi, you’d never guess he could really use his size and strength to quite literally floor another person. Hockey was a rough sport, that wasn’t news to you, and considering Mingi could use his strength to his advantage, it was probably why he was so sought after. You couldn’t shake away this feeling of awareness. Just now realizing how… big Mingi actually was and you didn't know whether it was relief or pride, knowing that of all the times you pushed him over the edge, never once did he raise a finger at you out of anger or spite. 

Mingi may have been an asshole with 70% height and muscle, but he wasn’t a bad guy. 

“That’s called roughing,” Felix started explaining. “It’s like… I wouldn’t say it’s an illegal move, but if done out of motive or in a way to really hurt the other player, it could lead to a minor penalty — a timeout — or game misconduct. But it all depends on how bad the situation is.”

“So he won’t play until the end of the game?”

“Nah, he’ll probably be out in like a few minutes,” Hyunjin answered for you and clapped as the red team scored, evening out the score board to five-five.

“Then the blue team will be a player short up until then?.”

“Pretty much,” Felix confirmed and popped a chip in his mouth.

You didn’t see how that could be fair, but then again, ice hockey wasn’t your forthe and as no one in the crowd was making a fuss over Mingi’s penalty — except for pointing out his poor judgment — you didn’t say much else, but hum in agreement. For twelve minutes, you didn’t pay attention to what was happening on the ice, only applauding when the crowd did and slumped back in your seat as the supporters groaned in disappointment. Your full attention was set on the lone player in the plastic box. 

Worry, confusion and pity circled your mind and you wondered if this was how everyone felt seeing the placement of your figure skating competition. As soon as the thought made home in your head, you shooed it away, reminding yourself to focus on the happy things and not everything that was blue. 

Forcing your eyes from Mingi, the most blue thing in the arena (both clothing and emotion wise) you zoned out and the players blurred into small vivid spots twirling on the ice like flies above a bowl of fruit. You didn’t understand where the worry came from or why it decided to take shelter in your stomach. It probably wasn’t Mingi’s first rodeo in the penalty box and wouldn’t be the last on either, and you recognized his sudden outburst as the one you saw a glimpse of at the party, right before you left him with that blonde police officer. 

Mingi never lashed out in anger and if he did, you were never on the receiving end of it despite giving him back a tenfold of insults he greeted you with. Seeing him quite literally floor a guy his size, made your guts twist in discomfort. It was an emotion that didn’t look good on him at all. 

The game was growing more intense with each minute passing and the atmosphere amongst the audience was also getting rowdier as the teams were practically neck and neck, neither willing to let up. The second Mingi stepped foot on the ice again, the whole arena blew up with cheers. It was like the almost extinguished torch of hope re-awakened into a bright and lively fire, and you too held onto the light of hope that the Blue Wolves would take it home, definitely because of your loyalty to Tiny University and not the growing affection for a certain defender in said school. 

The puck was flying from one side of the rink to the other in just a matter of seconds with all players, excluding the goalkeepers, circling around and cashing the rubber like stone. 

“Here, wanna help me hold this up?”

You didn’t know how you missed the big sign leaning against Felix’s legs, but you did. With a nod of agreement, you both took hold of each side of the white cardboard cutout and quickly looked at the glittery blue writing on it. 

I am Chan’s #1 fan. 

“Don’t judge, I made it like last second.” A blush kissed his cheeks and his eyes squeezed into crescent moons as you read the corny line.

“No, no! I think it’s cute.”

With ten seconds left of the game everyone in the arena stood up which made you and Felix raise the sign even higher. When everyone thought the game would end in a tie, a player from the defending line of the blue team somehow managed to steal the puck from two red players and sent it hurling across the rink, right in the sanctuary of his teammate’s stick who calculatedly launched it towards the red goal and past its keeper. The buzzer went off and chaos ensued. From what you could see all the Blue Wolves players crowded the scorer and dunked the defender who sent the winning assist, while the fans raised the volume through the roof. Whistling, cheers, laughter, even some old fashion booing circulated the arena.

Not all that upset with the outcome of the game, Felix applauded and turned to his friend who seemed to be quite butthurt. “Song really is crazy good, isn’t he Bin-ie?”

“Whatever, he’s lucky Jake sprained his ankle and couldn’t play today or he’d have them all eating ice. Ha! Get it, cause they’re playing on i–”

The rest of the conversation was tuned out as you focused on the celebrating team, trying to catch sight of eighty-nine. Your eyes traveled from one bulky player to another and then, as if your prayers were answered, the player came right into view. 

Mingi walked beside a shorter guy clad in blue and you assumed it was Chan by the sole way he pointed up at you and the other guys. Your suspicion was confirmed as the helmet was removed and Chan’s face was illuminated by the strong lights. You could just make out the faint movement of his mouth, saying something to the giant beside him. 

“Good to know your girl is cheering for the right team, Mings.”

Mingi followed the invisible line leading to where you stood and scanned the group of friends. He immediately recognized Hyunjin and the buff one, and he didn’t even manage to take a proper look at the third boy as his eyes found yours. Beautiful as ever, he thought and admired as much of you as possible. Your face, clothes, make-up and everything about you was perfect, and the passive aggressive comment was almost brushed to the side until he zeroed in on the paper in your hands. It was in that moment that the rose-tinted glasses slipped down his nose, jealousy quick to seep into every corner of his existence and he remembered why he’d been avoiding you for weeks.

Before he could send you a sharp (and unjustified) glare, he redirected his anger to the guy beside him. 

“Oh, don’t be like that. She was the one to look at me first.

Mingi wasn’t a violent person, he really wasn’t, but there was no acceptable excuse for why he did what he did. 

As if born ready for this day, Mingi used his teeth to tear off his gloves and pounced on Chan. One hand grabbed around the collar of his red jersey as the other was colliding with his cheek. He managed to get in two more punches — the first successfully collided with Chan’s jaw and the second just barely missed the bone of his nose — before Chan used his own limbs to defend himself. The red winger grabbed hold of Mingi’s helmet and snatched it off his head, and seized the chance to send a fist flying in his face, returning the punches he received from the blue defender. Red bruises quickly littered across their knuckles and warm blood covered their skin, the thick liquid pouring from both Chan’s nose and Mingi’s lip.

The crowd was going wild, the whistles of the referees were being ignored and it didn’t take long before the remaining players of each team were trying to separate the two brutes. 

“Oh my God!” 

Felix and Changbin flinched at your gasp. 

“He’s fucking crazy. Hey! What the hell?!” Changbin jumped between the seats and rocketed down towards the ice with the rest of you hot on his heels.

The silence was deafening. Everyone was curious as to what was going on and why a fight ensued now that the game was over, usually the nose breaking happened on ice and not off. Whispers and rumors spread like a wildfire, some claimed it was the aftermath of adrenaline while others thought of something more extreme like hard drugs taking over. Nonetheless, the crowd riled them on, clearly finding joy in the brawl. You weren’t anywhere near when the referees and teammates broke them up, Mingi being forcefully sent towards the locker room as Chan stayed laying on the ground, crimson face and teeth no longer pearly white.

“What the hell, Mingi,” you muttered under your breath and slipped through the mass of people, running to where you assumed he’d be. 

Your head was working a hundred miles an hour with the images of Mingi hunched over Chan, fists violently beating the blonde and a lot of blood covering his face. You were sure you’d never get them out of your head and you shuddered at the amount of red that ran down Chan’s nose. For the sake of the giant asshole you grew attached to, you hoped it wouldn’t put a stop to his career, both school- and sportwise. It would by far be his dumbest decision yet. For what even?

A group of reporters stood outside a door you assumed was reserved for the Blue Wolves and if that wasn’t enough of a give away then it was the loud cheers and victory singing echoing out to the hallway. In reality you wanted nothing more than to barge inside and interrupt their celebration — how they could celebrate after that bloodbath was still something you couldn’t wrap your head around — but you did no such thing. The moment the door opened you pushed the reporters aside and flew in with your head first, paying no mind to the perverse wolf whistles and cheers of the adrenaline drunken boys. You didn’t even bother with them as your eyes scanned the room that smelled of sweat and axe deodorant for him. Jungkook, seemingly the most normal one there (which spoke volumes), quickly understood why you were there and approached you with no teasing glint or malice in his gaze.

“Try looking by the abandoned gym on the ground floor. There’s a vending machine there we usually go to so I assume if he’s taken off somewhere it should be there.” 

You wasted no time in turning on your heel and practically sprinting down the route you repeated like a mantra. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine. First floor. Abandoned gym. Vending machine.

Lo and behold, he was right there and if it weren’t for the worry growing in your belly you’d go back upstairs and reward the playboy with a big smooch to his rosy lips. 

Mingi sat down on the floor, legs up to his chest and forearms folded on his knees. His sweaty forehead was leaning against the skin of his arm and an anxious rhythm of his heart beat in his chest. It was hard to miss the red on his knuckles. Inhaling a shaky breath as if it would steady your own heart, your feet stopped before him falling right in his line of sight. Surprised at the unexpected company, Mingi looked up and got a first row ticket of the concern swimming in your eyes. You didn’t know what to expect going after him, but the annoyed — almost disgusted — scoff he let out cut through you like a knife and twisted as he looked back down. Despite the act of annoyance aimed at you, Mingi wasn’t actually that annoyed with you but rather with himself because after everything he still had the urge to reach for your touch and he hated it. His jaw clenched at the circumstance and his nails dug in the palms of his hands. You weren’t even supposed to be here, it made everything ten times harder than it should’ve been.

Having had enough of his pity party Mingi and the weight of your gaze judging him, he pushed up from his position and walked right past you. No hello, no second glances, just walking as if you were a ghost he couldn’t see let alone feel. His movements halted when you latched onto one of his wrists, knowing that if he truly wanted to get away he’d shake you off like a ragdoll and be on his merry way. Although he was with his back facing you, the fact that he stood  rooted to the ground was the approval you seeked to continue with your winged attempt at getting him to speak.

“Mingi, what the hell was that?” 

The two of you weren’t heavy on the use of honorifics, but hearing you spit his name out like that surely sent a shiver down his spine. You weren’t pissed off, he noticed, you were actually worried and it was quite amusing. The nerve you had of showing up after that fiasco to interrogate him about his actions. Who the hell did you think you were?

“Huh? Why did you do that?” Shaking his arm, you tried again. “Can you please say something? I’m worried for you and your silence isn’t helping, please just say something.”

Mingi didn’t budge and you were starting to lose it. The avoidance wasn't enough, now he was blatantly ignoring your attempt at helping too.

“What is your problem?! I’m trying to help you, something’s obviously happened so why won’t you tell me!”

Ripping his wrist out of your hold, he turned around and it took every particle in you not to cower at his sharp eyes staring you down. 

“You want to know what my problem is?” His loud voice bounced off the walls and punched you right in the gut. 

There was so much anger in his gaze, his tone and his body. Everything screamed of anger and you didn’t even know why you were on the receiving end of his emotions. You were just trying to help.

“You! You are my fucking problem!”

“What?”

“As if you don’t know what you’re doing. Acting all nice and cutesy like we are friends, like you’re interested in ever befriending me which now that I think about is so stupid because you and I? What a joke. We’re a fucking joke!”

“What are you even talking about?!”

Mingi scoffed again. He looked to the side, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. There were so many thoughts going through his head and all he could think about was what words to use to hurt you the most. To make you feel the hurt he did.

“First, you invite me to your stupid competition and then you come to my game sitting with him! Was this all a game, huh? To get back at me for all the dumb shit I did to you because if it is then wow, you’ve really proven yourself to be more shallow and boneless than I ever thought. I mean, you’re really going out of your way to get under my skin and act like a fucking–”

Mingi closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut, the veins on his neck were more prominent than ever and his face was almost identical to the red color of Dasom’s hair. He really needed to calm down before he said something he’d regret. Not that it mattered, the damage was already done and he knew the aftermath was already biting him in the ass. Shit, the look of your glossy eyes was quick to make his inside burn with remorse.

Each insult was a poisoned arrow aimed at your heart. The words physically hurt you more than ever before and you weren’t aware just how mean Mingi could be. Your previous bickering never stooped on a level this low before and it brought tears to your eyes but even that wasn't enough to stop his rant. Not wanting to be caught vulnerable in front of the guy who was practically stepping on you with his shoes, you quickly wiped away the tears that managed to escape.

Mingi knew he was taking his frustration out on you and he knew it wasn’t fair because you hadn’t done anything wrong. It all kept piling on his shoulders. All the instances he saw you two together; the joint practices, your embarrassed giggles any time Hyunjin breathed, watching him console you in the hallways like a poor reenactment of a romcom, sitting so close together at his game, shoulders touching a little too close for Mingi’s liking… If that stupid piece of cardboard was a bomb waiting to be activated, then Chan was the flame that set everything off. 

“Oh, great. This is really great now you’re fucking crying too. You think some tears are going to make me feel bad? They won’t, I don’t care anymore okay? I’m done with you and your fucking shit. So go back to your prince fucking charming and don’t even bother looking for me, you hear? I’m fucking done!” 

You shrunk back at his unwavering and stern voice. Having nothing more to say Mingi stormed away, blood boiling and hands shaking as the final words set in. The last you saw of him before gut-wrenching sobs wrecked your body was the door slamming up against the wall and back the doorframe so hard the walls vibrated. And later that same night when Mingi got home, he wouldn’t even be surprised if you decided to never look at him again, let alone speak with him. 

Different emotions tore you apart and it was hard to make sense of anything that happened in the past ten minutes. The questions — what, why, how — were endless and you wanted to go home, preferably dig a hole in your bed and not come out until better days, whenever that would be you didn’t know. Tears burned your cheeks like lava and snot tickled your nose, dropping off your chin and onto your shirt. With the already wet sleeve of your sweater you wiped everything off your face, not in the right mind to care about what Keeho would say about his precious shirt. Like a baby cub seeking its momma bear for comfort, you retreated home yearning for the closest touch of a mother you could find.

“You have reached the voicemail of Choi Dasom. Please leave a message after the beep.”

After the fifth attempted call, you gave up and continued trudging home. Dark clouds hovered over Seoul and the light pelts of rain quickly became a downpour. Being picked up on Dasom’s bike didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Unlocking the front door of your shared apartment you were greeted with Hongjoong and Dasom sitting awfully close on the couch. They jumped apart as you harshly dropped the keys in the fruit bowl and froze at the sight of you; bawling, wet and shivering. Skipping the formalities you wasted no time diving in the shower and by the time you ventured back out, Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen as if the boy was never there to begin with and you couldn’t have been more relieved. You’ve had enough boys for the next ten years of your life.

“Beans?” 

It was probably the dumbest thing to cry about, but your lips still quivered and the tears you just managed to stop surfaced at the nickname. The girl caught you in her arms and you buried your head in her shoulder as your cries got louder. Dasom offered you solace with gentle rubs to your back and patiently waited until your labored breathing became even. 

“Let’s get you to bed,” she whispered and slowly guided you to your bedroom. 

Attentive as always she helped you get under the covers and shuffled in beside you to which you immediately buried your face in her bosom, her hand slank under your neck and connected with the other at the back of your head. You lay there in each other’s presence and listened to the coexisting beat of your hearts. Dasom didn’t try coaxing the troubles out of you and you heaved out a big breath. A wave of exhaustion washed over you at the constant tears and after waking up from passing out of exhaustion, you knew you’d be a victim of an unbearable headache and heavy feet. The whisper of your name was loud in the silent room and you hummed in reply, letting the other girl know you were in fact awake.

“You wanna talk about it?”

The most obvious thing would be to talk about it; talk about why you burst through the door, face wet and not entirely because of the rain. Your mom always told you to never sleep with an empty stomach, a busy mind or a heavy heart and while you didn’t appreciate the advice at the minute, future-you would (hopefully) think back to this moment and thank you for your courage. Dasom followed in tow as you sat up criss-crossed, taking your hands in hers and giving them comforting squeezes every once in a while. By the time she was pulled through the story of your evening — meeting Changbin and Felix, having a good time with Hyunjin, to seeing Mingi beat the living shit out of Chan and then him lashing out on you — the clock struck somewhere between two and three in the morning, courtesy of a few short crying breaks in between. Glancing up at your friend who was still digesting the events, you felt lighter at the thought of having your very own sun sharing warmth and hope wherever she went.

“He likes you,” she eventually said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You sniffled and wiped at your nose again, hands falling to play with the bedsheet. 

“He doesn’t.”

“How do you know who I’m talking about?”

You thought you ran out of tears hours ago but were proven wrong as a new batch stung your eyes and eventually trickled down your sore cheeks. Dasom pulled you in another soul crushing hug and held the back of your head, nails gently massaging your scalp.

“Why are you crying, bean?”

Through tears and her thick cardigan you replied. “Because we aren’t talking about Hyunjin, are we? He’s the one we should be talking about.”

“But we aren’t and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

It felt wrong crying over someone who held no significance in your life just a few months ago. The same guy who riled you up like it was his daily dose of sunshine and who set it as his life mission to have you curse him out. The guy who called you stupidly cute nicknames and walked you home at night, offering up his jacket to keep you warm and safe from colds. The guy who didn't turn up to your competition and then lived in your head like an annoying song playing on repeat refusing to disappear. The same guy who shook you to your core with his angry words and fiery gaze.

“Why am I like this?”

“Like what?” 

Dasom wasn’t foolish. She knew what you were going through and could only hope you’d come to terms with the unknown feelings rather than to be the one revealing the reason behind your heartbreak. 

“Drawn to a guy who’s mean and an asshole when I have the perfect one right there, waiting and catering to my every need.”

“I know I’m supposed to hate him for the things he’s said to you and I do, I really do bean…. so if you think I won’t at least glare him down in the hallways then I’m revoking your position as my best friend… But I’m going to be completely honest with you, bean because that’s what you deserve. I think something else must have triggered him to lash out, it couldn’t just have been because you were simply sitting beside Hyunjin.”

She gently played with your hair as the words sank in.

“He really hurt me.”

“I know, bubs and I’m so sorry. Know that nothing excuses that behavior.”

“Then why do I still think of him even when he’s shit. Why won’t my brain let me be happy with Hyunjin?” You broke from the huge and fell back on the bed, hands gripping the sheets as if they held all the answers to your questions. 

“Hyunjin is safe. We all like the safe and predictable, right?” 

Your nod of agreement spurred her on. 

“But Mingi, oh Mingi, is exciting. He drives you crazy, keeps you on your toes and throws you off course yet you can’t ever really get enough of him no matter how much it annoys you. I see it and I’ve been seeing it for months now and I promise this is the most objective version of me speaking right now.”

“But I like Hyunjin,” you whined, refusing to accept your own feelings.

“And you like me and Kyo too,” Dasom whispered softly, like a breeze passing through a field. “But we don’t fall in Mingi’s category.”

The days leading up to the holidays were spent within the four walls of your room waiting for the time to pass until you’d take your suitcase and haul ass across the country, definitely not because you were afraid to stumble across the very person you were avoiding. After the not so pleasant discovery you didn’t know what to make of yourself or your feelings. You couldn’t just phone him and proclaim your undying love because last time you checked, he explicitly made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you. You from a few months ago would throw a party big enough to think it was for a quinceanera or a sweet sixteen celebration with this information, but the present-you acted like Bella Swan during the disappearance of Edward Cullen just a tad bit less depressing.

Dasom was the first to leave. Her parents surprised her with a vacation to Jeju-island and her flight left the first morning of winter break. Keeho was still in the city but with college out of the way, he took on more working hours than usual. His immediate family lived in Canada and the plane ticket would be more expensive than the salary he’d get over the next two weeks. With your two friends unavailable you passed time thinking about the one who shall not be named and realized how unfortunate the whole situation was. You also realized you probably wouldn’t act upon your feelings as you didn’t with Hyunjin and would just let them flow until evaporating into thin air. 

Speaking of Hyunjin, you and him still texted back and forth albeit the conversations were slow and not nearly as exciting as you once found them to be. Your sudden disappearance at the hockey game was covered with a quick lie of ‘not feeling well’, which he immediately believed because, why wouldn’t he? Christmas wasn't anything special. It started with an early message of Hyunjin wishing you a Merry Christmas attached with a selfie of him in a Santa hat and fake beard, and the rest of the day was spent inside with your family watching movies and drinking hot cocoa. 

The new year was welcomed on the couch where a bump would sooner or later be formed and that alone was enough to explain the excitement level in the household. You all went to sleep a little after midnight and as you laid in your childhood bedroom, feet almost sticking out of the small bed, you mindlessly scrolled down the explore section of Instagram. A pang of sadness struck you at the picture staring back at you through the screen. It was a post of Mingi and his friend — the golden retriever looking one — posing on a snowy mountain both clad in skiing gear. The taller of the two had an arm slung over Mingi’s shoulder who, in return, sported a boyish grin and held up a peace sign. The split lip had healed perfectly and the only indicator of him being in a fight was the slight plum colored mark under his eye (courtesy of a nice punch delivered to his nose). At least someone was happy with you out of their lives. 

Angry, sad and just tired, you exited the app and shoved your phone under the pillow drowning out your scream. You didn’t even know why his post landed on your feed. Wasn’t the explore page supposed to show videos of millennials doing cringy trends and not the most recent activity of the dude that shit all over you.

This continued on for days. While you were decomposing in your room he was updating his Instagram account as if a celebrity. Pictures and videos of him clubbing until the early hours of the morning, pretty girls and tables full of alcohol captured in short stories and then a complete 180; sharing clips of him flying down snowy mountains, doing stunts and whatnot.

If he was so upset with you, why were you the one wasting days self wallowing? It wasn’t like you could party away the worry. Your hometown was the size of a nut meaning A) you knew everyone and their mother, and B) every person in a ten mile radius was well-over the age of forty and the closest thing that came as a party would be the retirement home down the street. Then again, playing bingo with the grannies was better than binge watching gut-wrenching dramas. At least you’d be clearing your ‘to watch-list’.

The weeks passed in a blur and, before you knew it, you were back in the comfort of your apartment with two days to spare until classes started rolling again. Dasom would be home the day after and Keeho was either passed out in his apartment or working his second shift of the day, leaving you to unpack the chaos sealed inside your suitcase. Swirls of snow beat violently against the windows, turning the outside world into a winter wonderland. The heavy weather picked up on your journey home and as you traveled halfway back to Seoul, the ground was slowly being covered in white flakes. You only got so far with your unpacking when a series of knocks rattled against the front door. 

“What’s uuuuup?!” Keeho screeched as you opened the door and an equally excited Dasom rolled in with her red large suitcase. 

“What are you doing here?!” 

They pulled you into a hug. Keeho’s loudness and Dasom’s giggles warmed up the place in no time and you immediately felt better.

“Surprise!”

“I hate you guys!” You exclaimed and squeezed their waists, head resting on Keeho’s shoulder with Dasom’s nose buried against your chest.

“Don’t lie, we know you love us. Now let’s get this bitch started!”

Scurrying to the kitchen Keeho brought back three animated cups; one with Naruto, Totoro and–

“You’re not drinking beer from the cup plastered with a picture of my dead cat!”

“Of course not, that one’s yours. Mine’s the Naruto one and Dasom gets Totoro, for obvious reasons.”

Said girl skipped quickly to the pantry and pulled out multiple bags of snacks. The huge smile on her face got you all curious.

“What’s got you all happy?”

“Nothing, I've just missed you guys! Jeju was fun but it would’ve been better with you there,” she pouted and poured the snacks into separate bowls.

“Pfft, don’t listen to her. She’s been texting that Cruella de Vil boy all winter break.”

Her smile grew and grew until it was a full blown grin and you squealed in delight, genuinely happy for your friend despite the green monster gnawing at the back of your head. 

“Tell me everything, c’mon!”

“Ah, ah, ah!” The fun and what would be the start of a girls’ night was interrupted by Keeho. “I should be the one asking you that, little miss I’m in love with my greatest enemy.”

Gasping, you turned to Dasom. “You told him?!”

“So it’s true?!” 

He leaned towards you and nearly snickered as your hands covered your mouth — if it weren’t for the serious circumstance — and stared at him with wide eyes. You walked right into his trap and as you told him everything that happened — the good and the bad — Dasom threw her hand out, palm facing upward..

“Pay up, pretty boy!”

“They aren’t even together!”

Dasom, a feral little chihuahua, jumped on him and a wrestling match took place in the middle of the living room. You couldn’t find it in you to be mad or upset. Leaning back against your arms, you watched them with a smile tugging at your lips. This is what you missed back in your childhood home. As much as you loved your family, the one you built in the heart of Seoul was very dear to you.

The ding of your phone snapped you out of your love-struck daze.

Hyunjin [07:16 PM] you back home yet?

You [07:16 PM] yeah, arrived a few hours ago

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] im glad

Hyunjin  [07:16 PM] how was it?

You [07:17 PM] Good to see the family again but God did I miss my bed

You [07:17 PM] What were you up to?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] yeah no kiddin ik exactly what u mean

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] Nothing much, did a lot of practice on the choreo w Iseul

You [07:17 PM] Ohhhh how’s that coming along?

Hyunjin [07:17 PM] it’s good but nowhere near perfect

You scoffed at the reply.

You [07:17 PM] I’m sure you’ll get it down in no time

Keeho harshly grabbed your shoulders, peering down at the screen but not comprehending any of the words.

“And who are you texting?” 

“Hyunjin.”

“Hyunjin!” Dasom sang, already tipsy from the soju she downed while you were busy typing away.

“And what does Mr. Popular want?"

Hyunjin [07:19 PM] wanna help me practice? 

Author's note pt.2: There's one thing I'd like to say regarding this chapter. When it comes to significant others, situation ships, partners, etc do not ever let anyone speak to you in a condescending matter. It doesn't matter how upset they are or what you've done for them to explode, you should never, and I really mean NEVER let anyone talk down to you. The only reason I didn't make MC obliterate Mingi is for the sake of the story, otherwise I'd have her drag him along the streets of Seoul like a dog, lmao. Anyway, if anyone speaks to you like Mingi did to MC in their fighting scene, please either leave/break up or put them in their place. You deserve to be treated with respect and love as much as anyone else.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[wontheworld]

you spoke too soon | 21

"Baegjo! Ynnie!"

"Baekgu! Hoon!"

"Bae-Bae!" The two said together while making a heart with each other.

"Oh, Sunghoon," Yn pouted at the camera before looking at him.

He looked back, "What is it, Yn?" He questioned.

"We're not bae-bae today! I'm Barbie and you're Ken!" She expressed.

Sunghoon gasped before moving his arm like a robot, feeling embarrassed. "Oh my gosh, I forgot," he said, moving his arms, trying his best not to burst out laughing.

"Ah, Sunghoon, you're not an actual doll!" Yn said, shoving his shoulder.

He gave her a questioning look, "What do you mean? Who's Sunghoon? Barbie, I'm Ken!" He smiled.

She rolled her eyes playfully before looking at the card in her hand, then back at the camera. "Today we have some special comebacks and stages!" Yn said excitedly.

"That's right, we have Choi Yena, VCHA, 8Turn, (G)I-DLE, RIIZE, and more performances coming your way!" Sunghoon smiled at the camera.

Yn smiled and nodded at Sunghoon before turning to the camera, smiling herself. "But right now, let's enjoy Hui on the stage with his solo debut!" Yn ended as the camera stopped airing, and they waved goodbye.

"You can't even act like Ken without laughing. How do you think I feel pouting all the time?" She said, making him laugh.

"You gotta admit, I ate that arm thing up," he said.

She side-eyed him before shaking her head, "I fear you didn't. You left a lot of crumbs. The plate is still full! Did you even nibble at it?" She teased him, causing him to pout.

"You didn't have to go that far, YN! Come on, be nice to me. I bought you coffee yesterday!" He said.

"Yeah, you buying coffee is causing more rumors to stir up! Oh, I just remembered, tomorrow we're filming a video for the variety show," she said, remembering their task for tomorrow.

He hummed, "I wonder what they're going to do tomorrow," he said. "Do you want to go to your waiting room or mine?" He questioned.

"Mine!" She said, making him smile before opening her waiting room door.

🧸.

The next day, Yn arrived in one car while Sunghoon arrived in another. They talked to the camera in their separate cars as the staff drove them both to the location.

"I honestly don't know what they have planned, but I'm sure it's going to be fun. But I'm kinda nervous," Yn said to the camera.

"Why are you nervous?" her manager asked.

"Manager Kim just seriously asked why I was nervous... because I'm scared. You guys are spooky with ideas. What if you guys take me skydiving or something? I'll actually cry on camera," she pouted.

They drove into an empty parking lot. "See what I mean? This place is empty. Are we doing a haunted house or something?" Yn whined as her manager laughed before another black car pulled up beside them.

"Okay, Yn, I'm gonna need you to cover your eyes, and I'll lead you outside the car and into the place," her manager said.

Yn squinted her eyes suspiciously at the woman before closing them. Her manager walked her out of the car and into the place. As Yn felt a sudden cold breeze, she started shaking a bit.

"It's cold in here, what the..." she cut herself off from finishing, not wanting to curse on camera.

She heard Sunghoon laugh right next to her, startling her as she still had her eyes shut tightly. "It's not that cold, it feels nice in here," he hummed.

She shook her head. "Can we open our eyes? Wait, Sunghoon, are your eyes closed?" she questioned him.

"Yeah, don't worry."

"3, 2, 1, open your eyes now!" someone shouted as Yn and Sunghoon both opened their eyes slowly before gasping.

They were at an ice rink. "No way!" Sunghoon smiled genuinely.

"No wonder it's freezing in here," Yn said before her manager put a coat on her as she thanked her.

Sunghoon kept smiling at the rink, making Yn a little creeped out. "Icey boy, get on the rink and stop smiling so weird!" Yn said, making Sunghoon laugh.

"Let me get my skates on first!" he said, sitting on the bench as her manager gave him skates. Yn joined next to him, putting skates on.

She sighed, "I've only skated a few times!" she whined to the camera, making Sunghoon smile.

"I've skated for almost a decade of my life. I love ice skating," he said, getting up.

Yn tried to follow him but kept wobbling over. "This is so embarrassing," she said as the camera caught her struggling on the ice rink.

Sunghoon was already skating around, smiling and laughing. Looking at him made her feel bubbly inside.

"Show-off!" Yn shouted as he skated by her.

He smiled, "Come on, take my hand so you won't hurt yourself," he said as she grabbed his hand.

She stayed as close as possible next to him, leaning on him like he was a part of her. "How do you do this shit?" she whispered to him.

"Come on, just do this," he said, showing her. She tried to follow, but she fell on her butt, making him laugh.

They played a few games on the ice and just skated around for fun before wrapping up the video.

"And have a Bae-Baetastic day!" They ended the video, waving at the camera as it panned up to the ceiling before cutting off.

"At least I know how to ice skate a little!" she smiled, trying to skate but ended up falling on top of Sunghoon.

"You spoke too soon," he groaned.

She sat up and apologized to him as he got up and helped her. "Maybe I did speak too soon," she laughed.

He shook his head and patted her shoulder. "You'll never be as good as me, sweetie," he winked, making her roll her eyes.

"Never said I'll be as good as you," she said before holding his hand as he led her off the rink.

Prev behind the scenes next

Taglist: @deobitifull @hoonstxr @seulgipage @purennn @haechansbbg @minetaphobe @badasgirlfriend @seunnimg @hyuzaa @ttylxox2 @ariadores @nyfwyeonjun @who-tf-soddhi @nqvgue @mikus-bakery @luvlyniya @akuspic @nxzz1skz

[running-with-kn1ves]

Walla....kn1ves....genius big brain yandere writer....i just (re)found your Yves work (im sure you saw me freak out in the tags lmao) if you have the time/energy/inspo pls i beg you for a speck, a crumb, a droplette, ANYTHING of my baby Yves x fem!reader. I'm not sure how specific is too specific but I have a truckload of daydreams and prompts for this man dc im down BAD BAD for the way you write him. I'm not sure if this is too specific of a request but can it be yves holding himself back constantly because he wants to *romance* the reader but its so obvious he's itching for more until one day he finally snaps and takes her (specifically him giving her his virginity and whoops maybe going crazy when he finds out she isnt one)? I'm just obsessed with his characterization and want to see him in a ton of situations and feeling/reacting to different things. The stern dom undertones his whole vibe has disguised by a friendly foreign guide 🥵 The drabble of him was sooooo good and such a tease of his personality, it's so enticing hahaha. If that prompt is no good or doesn't inspire you then anything else is fine and ofc if you have no inspiration for Yves at all then that's a-okay too!!! Thank you sooooo much for thinking up that beautiful man and sharing him with us!!! Hope you enjoy your holidays💞💞💞

A/N: Ugh I'm so sorry I took so long in answering 😭😭 I was gonna write like a whole piece but my time has been cut dramatically, so please accept this poor little piece!! I was honestly so overjoyed at seeing your tags, it makes me so happy to see people's reactions to my stuff ┗( T﹏T )┛I wish I could have more time to write for this because I love the concept, I'm a huge fan of the "mysterious foreign guide who's just a little too friendly" kind of trope. Thank you so much for your support anon and I hope you enjoy this!! OG piece here for any of you nerds!

TW: Kidnapping, implied dubcon/noncon, manipulation

It wasn’t hard to notice Yve’s shift in behavior. Well, this shift out of many. When you first met him, he gave off a kind, well-meaning but nervous vibe. He did his best to show you around, to make you comfortable and converse with you in english to the best of his knowledge. That kind persona shifted into something more… desperate; obsessive, once he brought you back to his apartment. He was still kind, still well-meaning and observant to your needs. He apologized profusely when you got upset from how he kept you from leaving, promising that you weren’t missing anything important in class and that he could show you real culture instead! What could you learn from a textbook that would be better than seeing the country itself?

But time and time again, Yves made excuses to keep you inside, to make you stay by his side whether through photoshoots or studying, with him as your “teacher”. You had to learn the basics before taking such a “big” step out into his country, right? Unfortunately for you, Yve’s only taught information on the most trivial subjects. From words like “textbook” to “glass”, you were able to make meaningless sentences that wouldn’t serve you well in conversing with native speakers outside of Yve’s little apartment. Sure, it might help you occasionally, but it got you no where closer to understanding Yve’s rushed mumbling and incoherent rambling. 

With your sudden move to his apartment and his new change in conduct, Yves had slowly become less generous. He didn’t make as much of an effort to talk in english anymore, and made far less points to explain himself. You couldn’t tell what caused this new change-- a change that you were soon starting to accept as Yves showing his true colors. The man was still attentive to your needs, still caring and kind-- but the posessiveness that had slipped out almost entirely seemed to be taking hold. And while you’d think that a growing obsession would make it more beneficial to you-- it in fact, made your difficulty increase tenfold. Yves began to direct you on what you should wear, when you should eat, what you should do for the day.

 Not only that, but his attentiveness to…more intimate needs were far more prevalent as well. Whether it was bathing, or the need that pulsed between your legs, Yve’s was there to try and take care of it. You pushed him away multiple times, awkwardly trying to tell him that you were fine-- but it never seemed to stick. He always just looked at you with a tilted, confused expression, muttering in his native tongue as if he didn’t understand. So when the foreign guide began to sleep next to you instead of the cot on the floor, and began to press his morning erection agaist your backside sleepily, you knew your protests weren’t having any effect.

You would have walked right out of that teensy apartment the moment you felt he didn’t listen-- if you weren’t so afraid. If you weren’t afraid of the loaded handgun in his locked nightstand drawer, or how easily he could destroy your life at your new university-- which he mentioned offhand multiple times in a casual manner-- you would have walked out. The power he held against you, a foreign student with failing grades and no money, was too much for you to ignore. So, you decided to bide you time. It was only a matter of weeks until he got bored with you, you decided. But his new actions didn’t seem to prove that. 

In fact, the lustful, mischievous look he gave you that evening was the complete opposite. His scrawny frame jumped atop yours, hooking his hands behind your neck and leaning in to try and kiss you. He had planned an unusually fancy dinner, lighting candles you had never seen in his apartment before and bringing a bottle of wine with some italian takeout. You tried to question him about the mound of pillows and blankets on his balcony, the sudden romantic lighting, but the male only gave you a broad statement on how it was a “celebration” of sorts.

Yves’ sudden prowling mood after dinner wasn’t a complete shock-- considering you felt his eyes on you the entire evening-- but it still caught you a tad off guard. You tried to reject him, to push him away after each kiss, but it was done with such little effort and such great fear that you stayed silent once he muttered in an annoyed tone in his own language. Yves took your silence as a surrender, friskily lowering his hand under your shirt to caress your abdomen. He rambled against your flesh in half-english as he kissed you up and down, not afraid to let out vocal little noises of pleasure, or grunts of satisfaction ones he heard your breath hitch or a hum of desire come from your lips. 

But it wasn’t until he uttered a sentence with a familiar word, did you actually reply to him. You recognized the term from messing around with your friends, when you jokingly learned dirty words from your textbooks and the internet to use when you finally entered the country. You never expected to actually utilize them unless you went to a club or bar and happened to meet someone. One of those words, was ‘virgin.’ A more tame term compared to the bunch you had memorized, but one that you and your friends had idiotically decided to research. Though, it seemed your stupid endeavors had paid off. 

As Yves repeated himself, you began to understand the sentence a bit more. The man was seeming to imply… you were a virgin? Something about you both no longer virgin-ing? Maybe he was saying that he was going to ‘virgin’ you? You couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say, only mustering up the courage to poorly explain your sexual status to him, first in english and then in a broken version of his language. You tried to repeat yourself, thinking you might have said your statement wrong-- but Yve’s shocked expression and sudden lack of kisses seemed to prove you wrong. 

“You have…. Sex?” Yve put a hand to his mouth, eyes begging you to respond.

“Uh….yes?” You said with an awkward expression; you hoped he was asking what you thought.

Yve’s let out a choked gasp, looking as if you had crushed his heart in your palm. 

He looked down, voice cracking as he mumbled something incoherent, and likely not understandable to you in the first place. 

“I….I i’m sorry?” You tried to apologize, seeing how shaken Yves had become at finding out you weren’t as inexperienced as he. Despite his eagerness, you could tell he was new to trying to initiate something you had already grown long accustomed to, new to being so intimate. It was actually in part of his eagerness that you realized he wasn’t of the same sexual history. He was full of anticipation and desire, throwing caution and logic to the wind to fulfill what he had read in books and seen in films.

 Yves seemed to treasure the act of losing ones virginity far more than you had-- but you had only noticed it now. The candlelit dinner, the mood-fitting music-- your first experience was nowhere near as romantic. 

Yves seemed shaken, his low, almost sob-filled words growing heavier. He grew more aggressive, seeming to realize something now that he had processed this unexpected news. He had assumed you were just as much of an amateur as him-- that he’d be the one to “deflower” you in an act of passionate romance-- a bubble fantasy that had just been popped. But the male realized-- if he couldn’t have his desired outcome, he’d have to make due with what he had. Which was to make sure you’d fall to your knees, experiencing the best night of ‘passion’ that would make you never want to crawl to another man again. 

He was going to claim you-- to make it so those nights you spent with others never counted. 

You could only understand a fifth of what Yves breathily moaned into your mouth, once again jumping your bones though this time much more roughly. Before you could say anything further you had felt his quick hands unbutton your pants, his own thrown to the floor. He didn’t listen as you begged him to atleast let you move to the bed, where you would no longer be visible to prying eyes on the balcony. But he didn’t care-- Yves had already taken off his shirt, intent on ripping yours away too. He didn’t care anymore if this wasn’t going to be special for the reason he expected-- he was going to make sure you would be left with a night you wouldn’t forget.

[jeongheart]

10:30 am

summary: walking down the street (i guess? just a quick chan drabble).

w.c: 600.

tags: established relationship, fluff.

a.n: i actually don't know what is this lol, i don't even have a title. this was born because the girl i like was making fun of me bc i have flat feet and i always complain about it ... and then chan sent a message on bbl complaining about the same thing and yeah, wrote this on my way to work so don't know if it's any good.

as always, english is not my first language so sorry in advance for any mistakes. share your thoughts if you like, appreciate it very much!

"Baby, my feet hurt" You complain for the fifth time that hour.

You've been walking since you left the hotel two hours ago, Chan insisted on taking advantage of Japan's sunny weather to visit all possible places before the sun went down. His refusal to go by train was based on:

1) The ticket wasn't worth it.

2) You were going to miss seeing the foliage in the less crowded areas.

3) "A little air wouldn't hurt us".

Chan just laughed and gripped your hand a little tighter to, in his own way, force you to walk when you stopped in front of a stained glass window in order to rest your feet that already felt hard in the arch of it, with a stabbing pain spreading to the fingers.

"My feet hurt too, but you don't see that I'm complaining, do you?" Your partner counterattacked at your frown.

You weren't really mad at him, you just wanted to rest for five minutes, your waist was also starting to feel sore after all that walking.

Chan didn't wait for you to answer him or walk again, and he took you by surprise when he effortlessly pulled you towards him until you collided with his back.

"What are you doing?" You questioned him with a slight smile appearing on your face.

"Climb up" He exclaimed simply, as he crouched low enough for you to get comfortable on his back without having to jump so much. The height difference between the two of you wasn't that much, but Chan was easily four inches taller than you.

Still, you appreciated his gesture.

You looked around at the passers-by who were swarming in the streets, some were deep in conversation or on their phones, some others looked at you curiously and then smiled tenderly, and others looked at you sarcastically.

"It's okay, come on, let's keep walking" You urged the man who was still in a squat position waiting for you.

Chan sighed in amusement and made a sign with his hands for you to hurry up "Come on love, I'll carry you".

You blushed a little and without giving the situation too much thought you jumped and got on the broad back of your boyfriend. When he felt the weight of your body, he ran his hands up the back of your legs to secure them behind your rear.

You held on tight to his shoulders as he took the last leap to settle you correctly on his back.

"Where are we going now, my princess?"

You laugh, but with all your might this time, it was really impossible to feel anything other than warmth next to Chan. The people who weren't looking at you before were definitely looking at you now, but you didn't care in the slightest.

You gently encircled Chan's neck and pressed your face to the back of his head so that you could whisper in his ear "Wherever my white steed decides".

Chan snorted but then gave in to the joke and let out the loudest laugh you had ever heard, the pigeons that were relaxing eating the crumbs that the elders left for them flew scared into the sky causing the two of you to laugh non-stop again.

Before you can finish laughing to take a breath, your boyfriend began a run towards the end of the square with you on his back, this time you really held on tight as you felt how Chan's grip became more noticeable on your legs.

The wind hit your face and while you saw people pass by like lightning due to Chan's excessive speed you couldn't help but smile fully and let yourself enjoy the ride.

[wings-of-ink]

Hi Lunan!🥰 First of all,I'd like to show you my appreciation for your IF. It's so well written and immersive, it's been a while since I read something and could fully focus on it, I get pretty distracted when I'm not enjoying the reading😂I got sad when I reached the end of it 🥺I'm looking forward the next update, but while it doesn't come out, I'm loving reading all the asks. You're very kind when aswering them, and it's fun to get know more of the ROs by their reactions. That being said, could you please spare some crumbs and tell us what would be the ROs reactions if MC gave them matching necklaces, in crushing stage?🥰

Hello, my dear! Thank you so much for such a beautiful compliment. It means so much to me that you’re immersed in my little world. And as someone who also struggles to keep focused when reading, I am very honored. ^_^

I would also be delighted to give you some crumbs, nay some teeny tiny loaves of bread for your ask, lol.

Oswin:  Holds the necklace with great reverence. The thought of a gift and compounded with it also being a part of MC. They match, they’re connected. He’s giddy with hope. He wears it every day.

Zahn:  Goes uncharacteristically quiet. So many twisting thoughts and emotions hit. Excitement. Flattery. Affection. Guilt? Do they deserve this? 

Duri:  Is very flattered, but tries to cover it up with jokes. There’s those uncomfortable little floppy feelings in their gut again….Would MC let Duri put their necklace on them?

Rune:  A little laugh bubbles up from them. When was the last time they received such kindness and affection from someone? A gesture so pure that they’re not sure what to do with themselves…

???:  He feels as though he hardly deserves such a token of affection. Is this really okay for him to accept? He wants to…

Thank you so much for the ask and the very kind words, Anon! You’ve made me feel as warm as our ROs with their matching necklaces!

[ggomos-maribat]

A Real One for Christmas

Cross posted from AO3

You know, when I said I was ready to return the favor,

I didn't expect it to be like this

Pleaseeee? 🥺🥺🥺

It's just for one Christmas dinner

EVERYONE has their own boyfriend or girlfriend now

And Ma and Pa's been asking when I'm getting together with someone

you're overlooking something here

your best friend knows me

how do we explain that to them?

we just tell them the truth

we met online and hit it off

uh huh

he won't ask questions in front of the family

i think

i can think of a million reasons how this can go wrong

it won't🙂

wow that smiling face is really assuring

that's good ^ _^

seriously?

another question..

am I supposed to know about your powers?

that's the fun part

if they know you're a 'civilian'

they'll be fighting to hide their powers

and/or tech

thru the whole dinner

you're actually evil

haha

this is me getting back at them

so i'll fly you on the 20th?

i can't fly with you

you need to book me a flight, im in Paris

France

Europe

Or else they'll be suspicious

Right

I'll ask Dad to help get you one

What about HM?

I'll make a prediction here and say that he won't be attacking a few days before christmas

cause he'll do it on christmas

but just in case, I can bring Kaalki or you can fly me

or I can ask Chat to cover for me

okay

see you :3

hey, this makes YOU owe me a favor

but this is your return

this isnt equal to what u did

it is :3

Marinette sighed and flopped on her bed as she threw her phone to her side. Meeting Jon Kent had been both luck and misfortune for her. One day, he was just a cute stranger she met after a boredom-filled night and then the next, they had accidentally found each others' identities when Superboy happened to pass by Paris.

She dragged out a groan. What on earth was Jon even thinking with that charade? They were facing a family of Kryptonians and detectives for crying out loud. 

"What's the matter, Marinette?" Tikki flew in munching on her last cookie crumb. 

"That was a very regretful groan." 

She screamed when she saw her partner's head pop through her open skylight. A pillow was instinctively thrown at Chat, who dodged it effortlessly. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" she glanced warily at her trapdoor, hoping her parents wouldn't come rushing in. 

Chat dropped down on her bed and stretched. "Meowch. Can't I visit my dearest friend every now and then?" 

"I think Marinette has a predicament," Tikki tattled as she nestled on top of Chat's head. 

"Oooh, what predicament? Do share, M'lady." 

Seven pieces of cookies, two more woeful groans and a story later, Chat was laughing out loud. 

"You think this is funny?" Marinette scowled. 

"I'm sorry," Chat wheezed, not at all sounding remorseful. "But you and I have read enough fanfiction to know where this is going." 

"But this is not fanfiction. This is real life." 

"And in real life," the black-clad hero sang, "Jon Kent likes you."  

Marinette scoffed. It wasn't that easy of course. Jon was one charming smile after another, targeting her unsuspecting feelings while not knowing anything.  

"So?"  

"So. . .?" Chat cocked his head.  

"What about Hawkmoth?"  

"Him? I can take care of the city while you're out," he replied. "You go enjoy your little Christmas getaway while I—"  

"Should we exchange our Miraculouses?" Marinette asked her kwami.  

Tikki gave a half shrug, "I don't mind joining Adrien for a while."  

"Yes! Two days with no cheese smell!"  

---

The flight to America was uneventful, but the car ride to Kents' was. Jon had reminded her before and after her trip that he and Conner were picking her up. She'd lied to him over text, saying that she wasn't nervous at all, but her rapid-beating heart was betraying her.  

And Plagg wouldn't shut up about it. And asking her for a charcuterie board at dinner.  

She could only make a futile attempt to control her heartbeat in the old farm truck with two Superboys.  

"Marinette, was it?" Conner smiled at her through the rearview mirror.  

"Uh . . . Yeah." She squirmed. Jon squeezed her hand. She squirmed some more.  

"By the way, Dad wanted to pick you up instead of Conner but he has dinner duties," Jon explained, "He told me to tell you."  

"It's okay. I'm thankful he paid for the flight and everything."  

"Jon told me you met online," Conner pressed, earning a frown from Jon. "He wouldn't elaborate."  

"We just started off as chat buddies and the next thing I know we were getting closer and he asked me out."  

"Hm that's interesting." A slight smirk popped up on Conner's lips. "Jon's never mentioned you before." 

"This is exactly why," Jon pouted. "You'll scare her off."  

A fake gasp. "Moi? I'm just a guy from Smallville. No one too special."  

"Eyes on the road, Kon. And don't go too fast, this isn't your motorcycle."  

"So how did Lois react when she found out?" 

Marinette saw Jon shudder under his holiday sweater. "She was furious."  

She paled. "Your mom got mad?"  

"I should've seen that coming anyway, because I never told them." Jon raised his hands. "Not your fault, though! Mom's excited to meet you."  

"How exactly did you meet?"  

"Kon. Questions later. Focus on driving, jeez."  

Marinette swallowed. If they had to pull off the act in front of Jon's family, she had to step up. "It's okay, Jon." She touched his arm. "We met in an online chatroom and we've been talking ever since." 

"Tinder? Grindr?"  

"Kon!" Jon's cheeks turned into a deep shade of red. "Can we talk about something else? What about you and Tim? Talk about that."  

"Me and Tim?" Conner smiled widely, almost evilly. "You want to talk about us? Tonight we're going to make lo—"  

"Okay, okay! Not that!" Jon raised his voice. He turned to Marinette. "Sorry."  

She squeezed the side of her bag which was starting to shake from Plagg's giggles. "It's okay. I promise."  

"You shouldn't have come—" 

"Hey, no, we already agreed to this, didn't we?" Marinette smiled shyly. "We're doing this dinner."  

Withholding a smirk, she laughed. "And it's not like I can fly back to France in a minute." 

And to this, Conner's eyes widened as the car swerved sharply to another lane.  

----

Lois Lane was first to tackle her as soon as she stepped through the front door. She stumbled back a bit, but managed to return the tight hug.  

"Marinette! I'm happy you can make it." She turned her head briefly to the commotion behind her. "I have to apologize—we're not yet done with the preparations."  

Marinette could see half of the Wayne family staring at her curiously from the kitchen. She pretended not to notice as Jon took her coat. "It's alright, Ms. Lane. If there's anything I can help with—"  

"No, you're our guest! You can sit here first and the table will be set in a few minutes." The reporter hurried her to a comfy couch in the living area. "And please, call me Lois."  

"Thank you . . . Lois."  

Jon leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Dad needs me to help with a few things. Will you be okay on your own?"  

She took his hand gently. "Of course. Go."  

He gave her one charming smile before going. At the same time, others came filing in . . .  

. . . And an arrow sailed past her head and into the wall.  

"ROY!"  

"That is my new—ow!"  

A blue-eyed man snatched the small contraption from the archer, glaring at him pointedly. 

"We have a guest, idiot." Another man strolled into the room.  

Dick Grayson, Roy Harper, Jason Todd, Marinette made her guesses. Jon had already told her all about them, even going as far as to share their quirks and personalities. Nightwing, Arsenal, Red Hood.  

"I am so sorry!" Roy's eyes went wide. "It was for my . . . Er—archery competition!"  

Jason smacked him.  

"Didn't we already tell you about this?" Dick hissed while pulling out the arrow from the wall.  

Roy mumbled a response that Marinette couldn't make out.  

"Really really sorry for that." Dick turned to her. "Are you hurt anywhere?"  

"I'm good!" Marinette assured before their arguments worsened. "It didn't hit me."  

"Good." Dick glared at Roy again. "I'm Dick, and these are Roy and Jason."  

"It's nice to meet you," she smiled sheepishly.  

"Guys, you're crowding around the poor girl." A woman in a wheelchair entered, and the others gave her space.  

"Hi, I'm Barbara, you can call me Babs." The woman offered a welcoming smile which Marinette returned. At that moment, more people were ushered into the living room, by the Wayne's butler who was brandishing a spatula and muttering about banning them from the kitchen.  

Marinette felt a chill down her spine.  

There, at the corner of her eye, he was staring at her. Calculatingly.  

Crap, he definitely recognizes me.  

She pulled out her phone and sent a quick message to Jon.  

---

The Kents and Waynes (read: Alfred) didn't disappoint with the food. Marinette realized how hungry she was when she gazed at the dining table.  

"You have to try Ma's apple pie," Jon whispered next to her. "I bet your bakery can't compare."  

"I'll be the judge of that," Marinette rolled her eyes. She settled next to Jon, across from Clark and Lois. Damian was diagonal from her, making it more difficult to avert her gaze.  

After the setting of the table, passing of bowls, picking up of servings, Clark made small talk within the light chatter.  

"So Marinette, what do you like to do?" Clark asked.  

"Art. Designing," she replied, "Helping my parents bake."  

"Oh come on," said Jon, "Marinette is a prodigy. She's been recognized by Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeois gave her an offer once."  

"Big names in fashion," Bruce Wayne commented, sending Marinette into a blush, "That's impressive."  

Jon piped up again before she could kick him under the table. "Her designs are amazing. And Jagged Stone regularly commissions her for concert pieces."  

"Wagged Shtone?" 

"Master Timothy, please don't talk while eating."  

"You know Jagged Stone?!" Tim gaped at her after swallowing down his food.  

"Jon's exaggerating." Marinette tucked her hair behind her ear, "It was just a few pieces for his concert."  

"Don't downplay it, Mars, you're talented," Jon smiled gently.  

"Looks like you're very proud of Marinette," said Lois.  

"O—of course I am! She's my girlfriend after all."  

"Well, I'm happy Jon brought a wonderful girl home," Ma Kent beamed, handing Marinette another piece of baked lasagna.  

"Can you get me an autograph from Jagged?" Roy asked.  

"Me first!" Tim cut in.  

"I'd like one too," Kara joined in.  

Marinette laughed nervously, "I'm sure I can get one for everyone." She glanced to her side. "Umm . . . Conner are you okay?"  

He continued rubbing his shoulder. "Yeah, someone threw a tree at me too hard while we were collecting firewood."  

An invisible tension (which Marinette purposefully ignored) swept across the room. Beside her, Jon spoke up. "Hey, I said I was sorry!"  

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows, resisting a laugh when she saw the semi-panicked faces of the others. "Jon threw a tree at you?"  

Tim conspicuously kicked Conner's leg below the table.  

"A tree! Yeah!" Conner's eyes widened. "We collect tiny trees for firewood! Really tiny ones!"  

"Oh. . .?"  

"Please ignore him." Tim kicked his boyfriend again. "Mari, tell us about Paris!"  

---

"Chilly night, huh?" 

Marinette could've sworn she jumped to the ceiling as she yelped at the voice. She'd step out into the front porch to get some air as the families cleaned up after dinner inside. She didn't expect the girl who Damian had brought to come approach her. 

"Yeah, really cold," Marinette saw her breath fog up. She hugged herself, feeling Rachel stare directly at her. 

Rachel had been quiet during dinnertime, but she wasn't a forgettable presence. Marinette knew about her as well (even before she knew about the Kents) because of a mission (more accurately, a snooping errand) assigned to her in the past. 

"Aren't you cold too?" Marinette rubbed her palms together. 

"I do well with the cold," the girl replied. "Damian's been looking at you the whole night." 

Yeah, I noticed that too. 

"Really?" Marinette chuckled nervously, gazing elsewhere. 

"Yes. It seems like he knows you." 

"He must be mistaken . . ." 

"He isn't." Rachel shook her head. "I'm not sure why he's suspicious but I trust you." 

"Trust---huh?" 

"I can feel that you're good. Lucky even." A light smile was on her lips. "You're good for Jon." 

I thought the smell of cheese would've masked whatever luck Tikki gives me. "Thanks?" 

"I'm coming back inside. You?" 

"Uhh . . . I think I'll stay here for a bit." 

With a nod, Rachel walked back into the warm house. Marinette released a sigh of relief. Confirming that Damian did recognize and remember her brought back memories.  

She wasn't proud of her time in the League, but it wasn't something she can turn her back to either. Especially since she still had to be loyal to its heir. She let out another heavy sigh and— 

"AHH!" In a surge of alarm, Marinette threw whoever was behind her over her shoulder. She was suddenly met with familiar green eyes.  

"Oh . . . Amir . . . I'm so sorry!"  

"It's good to know you still have your reflexes." 

She winced as she helped Damian stand back up. 

"I will go straight to the point. What are you doing here?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Did my mother send you? Is the League looking for me?" 

Marinette huffed. "Okay, first of all, that is an insult to Lady Talia. If she wanted to see you, she'd do it herself. Not send me to go undercover in a Christmas dinner." 

Damian raised an eyebrow. 

"Secondly, I'm not here for anything but Jon. Because I'm his girlfriend," she emphasized. "It's just a coincidence and I even hoped you wouldn't try to talk to me." 

"So you have no business involving me?"  

"I don't." She glanced warily through the window of the house, wondering if Jon (or any of the Supers) was listening. "Jon is . . . he's really important to me. I like him." 

"Does that mean you know about . . .?"  

"Yeah, all of it." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "But don't tell anyone. Jon and I are waiting to see how long we can mess with them."  

"I see." Damian pursed his lips, putting on an expression that she knew meant that he was thinking deeply. "If Kent hurts you in any way, I have a stock of kryptonite." 

"Uhm . . . Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?"  

"No." A tight smile. "I . . . Apologize for misunderstanding. I just haven't seen you since the League fell."  

"I'm just in Paris, Amir." Her shoulders sagged. "Trying to live normally. Sorry I haven't reached out."  

"We should go back inside. You're shivering."  

Marinette followed Damian into the house just as her phone rang. She sucked in a breath, read the message and met Jon's eyes from across the room.  

He immediately went towards her and pulled her to the stairs, yelling, "We'll be in my bedroom, don't listen to us, okay, bye!"  

---

Jon had offered to take her at first, but she declined to protect their cover. She had taken the Horse Miraculous and rushed back to the Kents' using the space power-up. On a day when she thought Hawkmoth wouldn't strike, he akumatized poor August again. 

Marinette had exchanged Miraculouses with Chat during the battle. She sat on Jon's windowsill in her Cosmobug suit as she caught her breath.  

"I'm really sorry," she breathed out. "Did they ask questions?"  

"They think we're still locked up here so it's okay. How was the battle? Did you get hurt?" Jon scanned her for injuries.  

She held his shoulders. "I'm okay. It was a quick fight but I was worried I wouldn't make it back in time."  

He pulled her into a tight hug, eliciting another blush. "Sorry I made you stressed out."  

"Hey, it's me returning the favor, remember?"  

The first time they had met in person, Superboy was in Paris, encountered an akuma battle and accidentally found her identity. She'd made him promise not to tell anyone about what was happening in the city, but he promised to collect the debt.  

"And I really enjoyed tonight. Everyone was nice." Marinette grinned. "If not a bit too obvious with their identities."  

"Let me guess. Conner and Roy were the most careless."  

She giggled. "No, I saw Bruce pocketing a Batarang and Clark reheating the chicken with his heat vision."  

Jon laughed along with her, still not letting go from the hug. Marinette buried her face on his chest. I wish it would always be like this.  

"I wish it could always be like this," said Jon.  

"Hm?"  

Her earrings started beeping but she paid them no mind.  

"Like . . . Bringing you over. Spending time together," he mumbled. "but we can't. You're not . . . We're not . . ."  

She swallowed. "Do you want it to be real?"  

He pulled away a little, to look at her properly. "Do you?"  

Marinette bit her lip. It wasn't the best time. It could strain their friendship. We'll never talk again!  

"Yes, I want it to be real," she confessed. "I've . . . I've liked you for a while now." 

His eyes turned bright and the corners of his lips lifted.  "Really? Are you sure? Because I was scared you won't feel the same and I made it weird . . ."  

Her arms looped around his neck as she mirrored the elated look. "Nope." Her lips lightly touched his cheek. "I like you a lot, Jon."  

He was practically buzzing with excitement, which made her want to laugh. "Really? Like really, really?" He held her more tightly. "You want to be my real girlfriend?"  

"Of course I do—"  

The door clicked open. "MARINETTE! WE GOT YOU PRESENTS—!"  

A wave of light flashed and Marinette felt her transformation wear off and a drowsy Tikki floating at her side. Conner, Tim, Dick and Kara were staring slack-jawed at them, crowded around the door.  

Jon helped her down the windowsill. "Umm, we can explain?"  

[mochiwrites]

The entire Martyn and Scar dynamic is like good food to me /pos

Eating it up yum yum

THAT LAST SCENE MOCHI. HOW COULD YOU. /pos

OKAY. OKAY CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS SCENE THOUGH. PLEASE. PRETTY PLEASE. IM TALKING ABOUT IT

putting it under a read more since it's spoilers for the new chapter (PSPSPSPS YOU SHOULD READ THE NEW SONGBIRD CHAPTER)

I NEED TO DISSECT THIS ENTIRE SCENE OKAY.

first of all, this scene was not planned. I did not mean to write this scene. my outline for this chapter was "train station, train ride, grumbo into hotel room" that was IT. but then I was writing it and made a split second decision to throw in a scene of martyn and scar on a whim

I had ZERO plan for this scene and just let the thoughts flow. and we landed on probably what's become my favorite scene of the chapter. martyn grilling scar for answers, the peek into scar's head???? there are two lines in particular that I am going to point out.

“You don’t have a loyal bone in that stolen body of yours, Scar.”

“Don’t you dare utter that name, fae. You will not control me, do you understand?” 

no I'm not going to explain. I am simply going to put these two specific lines in your hands. go wild folks <3

anyways! this scene is SUCH a good example of scar and martyn's character dynamic, the tension that was mentioned in the previous chapter, how fae and changeling dynamics in general look. it gave me a great opportunity for some very subtle world building <3 nice little crumbs of scar backstory and fae lore <33333

I'm really happy people are enjoying the scar and martyn dynamic :D I'm taking a lot of inspo from their third life dynamic hehe

[enumchase]

Okay as my all-time favourite Ted lasso artist and blog; what are your honest thoughts about the finale episode??

i've still only seen the episode once but just for you, sweet nonnie, i will rewatch it for more thoughts, but for now:

LOVED probably 80-90% of the episode and it was bittersweet and emotional af

every single one of the callbacks made me so happy especially the offside and nate's play

the so long, farewell scene?? are you kidding me???

trent. TRENT. my sweet gal. my little guy. i'm glad we got a final few ted/trent scenes in there and so grateful for the crumbs and mr lance's wardrobe.

i'd hoped for the whole season they weren't gonna do the love triangle thing with roy & jamie again, but unfortunately they did and even left it till the finale which was disappointing, but i did like how they resolved it, even if the throuple didn't happen (:/ or at least didn't happen onscreen)

i needed more nate this episode - i was hoping he wouldn't return just as a kitman and i wanted to see how that conversation went, but as always nick delivers on the stuff he DID get and i'm eternally grateful for his presence in the show

seeing the full diamond dogs just brings me so much fucking joy god i love six (6) men

barbara is such a little freak i love her and everything about her

one final triumph of tony head's rupert was incredibly satisfying to see i love old men. but WHERE IS BEX. i needed to see the rebecca/bex/ms kakes revenge storyline

re. the tedbecca of it all, i really thought they were gonna do it till the airport scene and am still surprised they didn't, which meant that the first fakeout scene was absolutely uncalled for and felt really in bad faith after the fact, even as a person who does not actively ship them

now for the stuff i REALLY. really. did not like, as evidenced by a number of dozens of tweets and two long stern worded replies in brendan's ama: absolutely unbelievable that beardjane were endgame when basically no other established ships/relationships ended up being endgame. very disappointed about the direction the show took them in and the writers' not realizing how harmful it can be to celebrate a toxic and abusive relationship. most important i think beard deserves better than jane but maybe that's just the beard fan in me talking.

i wish ted & beard would've had a deeper conversation re. jane & leaving london before they literally got on the flight, and gave us more resolution with these two men whom i dearly love and want to see more of - it does NOT help when brendan says they "don't see each other for years" because cmon. this is a feel good tv show. you don't have to bring your "real life friendship" stuff into here. make us feel good about ted leaving please.

and finally, ted leaving, which i definitely expected. i just didn't expect that the people trying to make him stay to not have any effect on him at all. i agree with others that ted seemed quite distanced and detached for the whole episode, but they'll most likely never end up addressing this ever again. i wish he'd explored more options than just "leave permanently and never come back" - and ended up being the same place he started before he came to london, but i appreciate the effort he is making for henry.

as for the future of the show, i hope there'll be a spin off with maybe some of the existing characters but definitely a whole new showrunning/writing/creating team, i would love to see other's interpretations for the characters & universe i've grown to love over the past year and a half.

so yeah, that's about all i can think of re. the finale. i was holding out for the last 15 mins of flashforward montage to be a dream sequence but brendan debunked that theory pretty definitively yesterday, so there's that. i appreciate the show for what it was to me and forgive it for what it wasn't, and i will still be enjoying the bits i enjoyed from it wholeheartedly - it was not a perfect show, but it was a great show to have enjoyed over the past year and a half and to have shared with the rest of y'all. i cannot wait to see what the universe, and everyone who was involved with the show will go on to do next and you'll be damned if i wasn't gonna follow jimmy lance's career until he is fully out of work. richmond till we die <3

[coldflasher]

Asks, you say? WELL THEN!

What's your favourite and least favourite ColdFlash scenes in the show?

reiterate previous apology for asking for asks and then not answering them till a day later haha

oohhhh this is a good one. i was really gonna be like "oh i can't choose but here are my top faves" and then was like please babes they have like 5 scenes together, just pick one. be brave. it'll be okay

SO. i'm gonna go for the whole ARGUS scene in infantino street. the whole thing in general but specifically the part where they're crouching outside king shark's cell bickering and handing the cold gun back and forth while len goads barry about whether or not he really has it in him to be a killer. infantino street really did give us that perfect glimpse into how WELL coldflash work together and it makes me a little sad that we never got a scene of them working together where one of them wasn't anxious and miserable—family of rogues!barry was all giddy and excited to be playing the supervillain while len was radiating stress worrying that lisa's head would explode at any second; infantino street!len was at his snarky best and clearly enjoying winding barry up, but barry was too worried about iris and the savitar situation to banter back the way we all know they can and do. and like yeah i know technically they'd never work together in the first place except in a dire situation so that would always have been the case, but a girl can dream

the ARGUS stuff is the most extended interaction we see between them and i think it really opens up new layers in their relationship and it's just a fascinating reversal of their usual dynamic with len being the angel on barry's shoulder rather than the other way around, when previously he'd have been the devil encouraging him to be bad... also i just have a thing for seeing barry with the cold gun for completely normal and non-horny reasons (i joke... unless....)

least favourite... that is so hard when we as a fandom have so few crumbs that it feels impossible (and somewhat sacrilegious) to not enjoy any coldflash scene lmao. i guess any scene where len is a hologram/flashback/speedforce avatar is always a disappointment cos i remember when eps aired and we'd find out wentworth was gonna be there and we'd all lose our minds and then it was like "SNARTBAIT OOH HA HA"

but even for those scenes, i found things to like. like one that comes to mind that isn't a fave is when barry comes across len as a speedforce avatar wandering around hospital corridors in wally's dead mom prison mindscape, but also that's the scene that brought us "you made him want to be a hero, just like you" so like... how could i hate her?

OR there's that scene from 2x01 where barry's fighting len and mick and len is like "I'LL KILL YOU, RAHHHH" which i don't love cos it doesn't feel very in-character (just the delivery idk it always gave off vibes) but then we get the funny but also kinda sad reveal that it's OOC because it's not real and barry is just having a pathetic little daydream about fighting len and mick whilst he's holed up alone in S.T.A.R Labs like :( so again. how could i hate her??

so if we're gonna choose i'll probably either go with the speedforce avatar thing OR, if it counts, when barry meets the legends and asks where len is and they're like "he's dead, but he died a hero though" and barry's like okay cool, i'm gonna smile wistfully and not gonna ask any follow-up questions. to be fair they did make up for that by having len's death haunt him for the rest the show's tenure but it was still a letdown imo

[pickledpascal]

Meat & Candy

Chapter Six

Warnings: general anxiousness, 18+ themes, fluff.

Word Count: 1.5k

Meat & Candy Masterlist

Previous Chapter |

Dean had to take a deep breath at least five times in the last few minutes and decided to do his breathing exercises. Was he really that nervous to be going on a date? Well, yeah. It didn’t even have to be a date with Cas, it could’ve been with anyone . He hadn’t been on a “regular” date in years. He and Benny would have their benders and other… things . He wasn’t even sure if he had been on a “regular” date before. Cassie might’ve been the closest when they had dinners nearly every Friday together. 

Shit, Cassie. Was he making a mistake by inviting Castiel there? Well, it wasn’t her house but it was the closest thing to it. Dean took another breath as he stepped inside the bakery. It smelled amazing in there, always did. Then again, he and Cassie weren’t as close as they used to be. They were still friends, but far from intimate and they didn’t spend that much time together anymore.

“Hey, Cassie!” Dean smiled as he waved at her, his worries melted away. “How’s sales going?”

Cassie was behind the glass counter, an apron around her waist. “Just fine, Dean.” She smiled back with a cocked eyebrow. “How’s the restaurant?”

Dean leaned against the counter, glancing at the other patrons enjoying their pastries and various types of coffee. They all seemed content. Similar to how all his customers left. “Doing well.” He said softly.

“Looks like both our dreams came true.” Cassie pointed out, getting his attention again. “Now, I'm assuming you didn't come here just to chat to little ole me so… what can I get ya?” 

Dean looked at all the different baked goods as if he was looking to try something new even though he'd get the same thing as always. “One maple bacon donut,” He glanced up at the drink menu, “And a medium latte with sweet cream, please.”

Cassie pressed a few buttons at the register and flipped the tablet for Dean. “That'll be $10.67.” 

He paid and added a five-dollar tip with a wink. He always made sure any place he went to for any service got a healthy tip, especially if they were a smaller business. 

Dean waited by the counter, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Summer was starting soon but it wasn't too hot to wear a jacket anymore. He glanced at the clock on the wall every so often. It was getting so close to when they were supposed to be meeting but Cas wasn't there yet. He didn't know why, but his heart started racing again. God, he thought he was over that already. 

Cassie had his order out in just a few minutes and gave him a sly smile. “Got a date?” She asked.

“How'd you know?” Dean squeaked as if he wasn't shifting every two seconds. He grabbed his coffee and donut, immediately taking a bite of it followed by a large gulp from his coffee. 

Cassie gave him a look, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief. Dean could be really oblivious at times. 

Dean gulped down everything and nodded at her, a nervous smile fluctuating on his lips. “Right, yeah.” He flicked a couple crumbs off his shirt. 

He bee-lined for a table by the windows so he could see Castiel as he came in. Just to be prepared. Or something. However, Cas must’ve come from the other direction because Dean didn’t see him until he stepped through the door. Dean’s heart stopped as Cas waved before going to the register to buy whatever sweets or coffee he wanted.

Dean coughed and lifted a hand to his mouth to smell his breath. Okay, it was fine. He then scratched at his beard to smooth it and make sure it was styled how he liked. Nearly as soon as that was finished, Castiel sat across from him. 

“Hello, Dean.” He smiled softly and glanced down at the goods he got, taking a sip from his coffee. “I wasn’t sure which donuts to get… so I got an array I thought Claire and I would like.” He said softly, a light blush on his cheeks.

It was good to know Dean wasn’t the only nervous one. It made him feel better, a bit of weight off his shoulders. 

“That’s okay,” Dean smiled, amused. “But I have to warn you,” He motioned to the five donuts in front of him. “These go bad after a day or two. I mean, they’re still edible, just not as good.” He took a bite of his own donut and then wiped his lips.

Castiel’s eyes caught the movement before he cut one donut—Boston creme—in half. “So how do you know the owner?” He asked as he took a bite.

Dean pursed his lips and looked away for a moment. “Me and Cassie, we used to date a while ago. But we're just friends.” He was quick to add that last part. 

“Oh! Really? Why did you date?” Castiel didn't seem phased much, perhaps even a little excited to learn more about Dean's past.

Dean rubbed his nose a little. It's not that he didn't want to talk about it, he was just surprised at how well Castiel seemed to take the information. He sipped his coffee. “Um, we went to the same high school. And we're both trans so… just kinda clicked because of that. I think we were the only openly trans kids at the time.” 

Castiel hummed in response. “It must've been… nerve-wracking. I'm glad you had someone to relate to.” He smiled gently.

“Yeah…” Dean smiled a little to himself at the memories, glancing at Cassie. 

For a while, she was everything to him and more, but the sparkles faded and he realized that maybe he didn't want to be with her forever . At least, not as a lifelong romantic partner. Dean had been thinking about maybe providing some of Cassie's baked goods at his restaurant for pickup or something but he had Charlie for that.

“How'd you end up working for the Tribune?” Dean asked, trying to learn more about Cas. All he really knew was that he was a journalist, also a single father, and he absolutely loved his cooking.

Castiel shrugged. “I just went to college at the University of Illinois for Journalism and thought getting a job at the Tribune would be a logical thing to do.” He let out a soft laugh, glancing down at the table. “I'm sorry, my life is not as interesting as yours.”

“It's okay, don't worry! Honestly, it's nice to be around someone whose life is not as…” Dean struggled to find the right words for a few moments. “Not as crazy.”

“Good… that's good.” Castiel nodded. 

The rest of that morning was spent talking about their children, the donuts they both had, and a few memories of their brothers. It seemed they bonded in more ways than one. 

Food lovers? Check.

Single dads? Check.

Weird brothers? Check.

Although Gabriel was technically the older brother, he seemed to act incredibly childish at times. Dean had to agree after knowing him for a while.

They left the cafe together as Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Um, when do you, uh, wanna do this again?”

“Soon… very soon,” Castiel said, gripping his paper bag that held the donuts. “Perhaps next week?” He suggested. “I don't cook too well, but you can come to my house.” 

Dean nodded, a soft smile on his face. Contentedness. “That sounds good.” 

They awkwardly stood by each other on the sidewalk for a bit.

“Can I—” Dean was cut off.

Castiel had kissed him, lifting his free hand to cup Dean's face. It was soft but surprised Dean nonetheless. He wanted to be a gentleman about it, but Castiel couldn't wait.

“Yes.” Castiel whispered as he pulled away.

A larger smile broke out on Dean's lips before he wrapped his arms around Castiel's waist and kissed him deeper than before. The way their lips slotted together, the way their bodies slotted together just felt right. Like maybe, just maybe, Dean had found his person. And he wasn't about to let Cas go without giving him something memorable. 

A goodbye kiss. One that wasn't really a goodbye, more of a ‘I’ll-see-you-very-soon’ kiss. 

“Hey, can y'all leave? I think you're scaring my customers!” Cassie joked from the door. 

Dean glanced at Cassie. “Sure, just, uh,” he looked back at Castiel. “Talk to you later.” He pecked his lips quickly before leaving.

Castiel watched him walk to his car, a light feeling in his chest. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. Just because he was given an interview to do. Maybe he needed to thank Crowley. He quite liked wine, perhaps Cas could splurge on an expensive bottle with his raise.

“You're really in love with him, huh?” He heard Cassie's voice before he turned to face her.

He coughed, shrugging. “Well, uh, I don't— I couldn't say right now.” He knew that he was bullshitting himself.

Cassie chuckled. She could tell too. “You do. I can tell.” She soon went back inside the cafe. 

[softquietsteadylove]

Your boxer and ballerina thenamesh au is the best thing in the world but it also makes me think of that lovely show: battle of the blades

So if it's not too much to ask, hockey player Gil x figure skater Thena? :o

"Again!"

"Again!"

"Again!"

Thena grit her teeth as she landed, her knee wobble only getting worse with each impact it took. Her ankles were killing her. She dragged in breath, the cold of the rink filling her lungs.

"Enough--we're done for today. I'll see you on monday if you can do better."

Great session, Coach. Thena nodded, taking another minute on the ice to take her hair out and let the air blow through it as she took the opposite exit off the ice. It would be good for her to cool down.

"Uh, are you...okay?"

Thena blinked. She looked to her left, seeing one of the boys from the hockey team that always had the ice slot either immediately before or after her practice. Today they were in after her, but there was always a half hour separation so the ice could be resurfaced and there was enough time to avoid conflict.

But there he was, smiling, waving somewhat sheepishly.

"I'm sorry?" she tilted her head at him as she stepped off the ice, blade guards in hand.

"Uh," he floundered, looking around the empty bleachers. "S-Sorry. Your coach seems kind of...intense."

Thena drew in a long breath and then sighed it right out. She was exhausted after this practice in particular. She walked over, sitting down next to him on the bottom bench. "They tend to be. It's the only way to be truly good."

"That can't be true," he refuted with an easy shrug. "Coaches can be tough, sure, but I don't see why he would have to yell at you like that."

Thena glared at him, her shoulders rising, "I don't see why it's any of your business."

But he didn't flinch at the way she snapped at him, just shrugging his truly massive shoulders. "Guess it's not. Just seems kind of mean."

Thena looked down at her knees, covered by her tights. "I suppose. He's like that with all of us."

"What an asshole."

Thena let out a quiet laugh before pressing her lips into her palm.

"What?--are you not allowed to laugh?" he leaned forward, looking half-teasing and half-serious.

Thena gave him half a smile. "My father doesn't enjoy mockery."

"That's your dad?!" he squawked, gesturing with his thumb to the opposite side of the rink, where Arishem had stormed off without so much as a glance in Thena's direction.

"I live with my mother, but...yes," Thena conceded. She didn't know why she was telling him this--any of it. But there was something charming about him. Certainly more than the captain of his team. "He's coached me since I was young. I almost don't remember a time in my life when I wasn't skating."

The hockey player shuffled on the bench, kicking his legs a little, not yet laden with goalie gear. "Do you even like it?"

"Hm?" she looked at him as he rifled in his bag for something.

"Do you like it?--figure skating?" he asked again before sitting up again with two protein bars in hand.

"I suppose," Thena's eyes drifted down to his hand. She was starving, but Arishem had a strict 'no consumption of any kind' policy while in the rink at all. It could affect her performance, he said.

"Well," he toyed with the wrapper of one before holding out the other to her. "Maybe you've just done it for so long that you don't know what else you could like...?"

Thena looked between him and the protein bar. He seemed so...nice. Just smiling, holding out what she was sure were precious calories just before a demanding practice of his own. But she accepted the bar delicately, listening to the rustling of the wrapper over the pounding of her heart. "Maybe..."

"I mean," he shrugged, taking a bite of his (and continuing to talk with his mouth full). "I think Ikaris is kinda like that. He's just done this for so long that he doesn't really know what else to do, y'know? That, and he's so competitive."

"That brute, you mean?" Thena laughed faintly as a few crumbs flew from his mouth to the floor. She took a more gentle bite of hers. It was chocolate. She loved chocolate.

"Yeah, I guess that's him," Gil laughed, having no reservations about the slander of his team captain. "He can be all right. He just...needs to be able to relax a little."

Relax a little. What a thought. Thena took another bite and sighed. "Do you think it would really change him that much?"

"I don't know if it would change him," he shrugged again, looking at her with bright eyes. "But people are more fun when they're themselves, and they can be more themselves when they're relaxed, right?"

She had never considered it before. Her father had such a way about him that maybe she had never been allowed to consider. Maybe this was what Ajak meant when she said that she wanted Thena to get in touch with herself more.

"I'm Gil, by the way," he rushed after gulping down his last bite. He wiped his hand on his pants, sticking it right out for a handshake, uncaring of how dorky it seemed.

Thena perched just her fingers in his, but he gave them a friendly little squeeze all the same. Lightning shot through her, making her feel squirmy on the inside. She pulled her hand back. "Thena."

"Well, I guess your dad wouldn't want me saying anything," he scratched his cheek, and Thena saw a trace of facial hair there. "But I thought you were really good. It's cool to see you jumping and turning and stuff."

She'd received praise before. She had won competitions with her skill, received compliments from the others her father coached. Her mother praised her endlessly, attending all her contests--even enduring the presence of her father to do it. But looking at Gil smiling at her as he said it, she felt truly...accomplished.

Thena looked back down at the half a protein bar in her hands, feeling her cheeks start to flood with warmth. "Thanks."

Gil cleared his throat, balling up his wrapper and shoving it in his pocket. He watched the zamboni make its rounds over the ice, resurfacing it for his practice. He looked towards the door, hearing the loud and already rowdy arrival of his teammates.

"I suppose that's your call."

He looked back at her as she finished off the protein bar and balled up the wrapper in her fist. "Guess so."

Thena inhaled, drawing up her shoulders again. She wasn't sure if she would get to converse with him again. Their schedules conflicted almost directly with one another's. "It was nice talking to you."

Gil shimmied a little closer to her again, leaning his head forward so he could look at her as she looked down at their white and black skates. "I liked talking with you too."

She peeked up at him, only turning her head as much as needed. He was a lot closer than he was before. Awfully close--too close? No.

"I can take it for you," he held his hand out and nodded his head. "The wrapper--there are trash cans in the changing rooms. You probably have to go home, right?"

She nodded. Her mother was probably waiting for her as they spoke.

He smiled as their hands brushed with a simple exchange of garbage. "I'll bring another one for you next week."

Thena inhaled sharply, feeling another tingle in her spine. "You don't know if we'll run into each other again."

Gil shrugged. "So I'll save it for you. And I'll come early and stay late if I have to."

Thena blinked as he stood, having made his promise so lightly but so seriously. He waved at her again and she waved back dumbly, "okay."

He turned and looked at her a few more times before joining the herd of his other teammates.

"You finally talk to her, Gil?"

"Shut the hell up!" Gil barked at his teammate, shoving him towards the changing room doors.

Thena collected her breath to the best of her ability. She felt like she'd been on the ice for a whole other hour after just a quick conversation. After replaying some of it in her mind she stood, ready to head to the parking lot. She startled at the appearance of her mother, leaning against the stand railing. "Ajak!"

"I was wondering what was keeping you," she smiled, and in a way that made Thena bristle. "It's not like you to linger."

"Sorry," she muttered, fully intent on walking straight past her.

"I didn't want to interrupt you and your boyfriend."

"Mother!"